#it's also glazed which is why it looks weird | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ariestrxsh · 6 months ago

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷content warning: smut, innocence corruption, praise, mommy kink, thigh riding, oral (m!receiving), glasses kink, loss of virginity, sub!virgin!matt, dom!reader, friends to lovers

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷summary: you and matt are best friends and share everything with one another - except for what you each sound like in bed - that is, until now.

this fic was requested/inspired by this ask 💋

never lose me

"I have a question," you told your best friend Matt over dinner, leaning in closer to him and peeking up at him before you took a big bite of your pasta. You'd invited him out to celebrate a promotion you'd gotten at work, and you also wanted to ask for boy advice.

"What's up?" He asked, tearing off a piece of garlic bread and popping it into his mouth. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses as he made eye contact with you. "When you're having sex with a girl, does it bother you when she's loud?" You giggled, kind of embarrassed to ask.

"Why would that bother me?" Matt asked, his blue eyes darting around while he thought about how to answer your questions without confessing to you that he was a virgin. "I don't know. It's just this new guy I've been casually seeing. He's like, really quiet in bed. Almost makes me feel weird for being as loud as I am," you admitted.

He nodded to let you know he was listening, but behind his glazed over stare, he was thoroughly imagining all the naughty words you'd say and all the ways you'd scream whilst in the throes of ecstasy.

"He doesn't say much. He doesn't moan very much. I can't tell if I'm not satisfying him or if he's just shy," you confided in him, smoothing out your crimson dress that hugged your curves so snugly. "Well, have you tried asking him?" Matt timidly responded, studying the way your pretty red lipstick looked.

"Well, kind of. I mean, when I'm giving him head or stroking it for him, I'll ask, 'Do you like that, baby?'" You said in a seductive tone. Matt found it difficult to look you in the eye as he felt blood rushing to his appendage below his waist at the tone of voice you used. He took his napkin and subtly placed it on his lap to hide his growing erection.

"Mhmm," Matt nodded, halfway reassuring you that he was listening and halfway answering the question you'd just asked. "And he'll say it just like that, 'mhmm,' but even the way you said it sounded more convincing than when he says it. I just feel like he's not into it."

You took a sip of your red wine, your third glass of the night, leaving a lipstick print behind on the glassware. "Well, he's probably just nervous. I can't imagine he wouldn't like it when you.. do that stuff to him," Matt struggled to get out, twisting his ring like he always did when he was thinking about something.

"Are you shy in bed? I get the feeling you want to be loud, but you hold back," you lowered your volume, smirking at him. "That's none of your business!" He widened his eyes and smiled at you while he blushed. "See? You're already getting all shy on me," you laughed, taking another drink.

He nibbled on his lip and fiddled with his ring some more, and you noticed it had been a while since he touched his food. "Matty, are you okay? I didn't mean to get too personal with you or anything. I just get curious about what you're like in bed sometimes," you chuckled, reaching over and brushing your thumb against the back of Matt's hand.

Matt's gaze flickered up at yours and he raised his eyebrows in a surprised expression. "What!? You don't ever think about that kind of thing?" You replied, your cheeks turning pink. "I mean, of course I do," he laughed, hiding his face behind his hands.

"Why don't you satisfy my curiosity then and tell me how you sound?" You playfully flirted with him, slipping off your high heel and running your foot up Matt's pant leg, which turned Matt on even more. "Listen. I would have told you by now if I knew," Matt timidly replied, looking up at you for your reaction. "What do you mean?" You asked, gathering and twisting your noodles with your fork.

"I mean, I've never had sex," Matt said quietly, bracing for your reaction. He knew you weren't the type to tease him about it, but he was just so used to it by now that he was already prepared for it. You accidentally lost your grip on your fork and it fell against your plate with a loud clatter as you peered up at him once more.

"Never?" You asked with a bit of pity resounding in your voice. "Never," he innocently shook his head. "But surely you've done other stuff," you insinuated, picking your fork back up and picking at your food. "Nope," Matt softly answered, picking up his glass of water. "Why not, Matty? There's no way you haven't had any offers," you answered.

You knew Matt never talked about his sex life with you, but you always assumed it was just because he was being a gentleman and respecting the privacy of his sexual partners. It's not like Matt wasn't good-looking, and even though he was a bit dorky, you always found that endearing about him.

"I mean, girls are interested in me, and I can usually tell when they are, but all the girls who have ever been interested are so indirect, and all they do is drop hints like they want me to make the first move. I'm just not really into that. I want a woman who pursues me for once," Matt shrugged, adjusting his glasses again.

"So, you're saving your virginity for a dominatrix?" You raised an eyebrow at him, teasing him and giving him a sly smirk. You watched as Matt got all flustered and started running his fingers through his brown hair. "Well, I wouldn't word it like that. I just want a woman who's in charge and knows what she wants," Matt replied, blushing.

"Yeah? You want her to boss you around a little in bed, baby?" You cooed through your seductive smile. Matt rolled his eyes and let out a nervous giggle, but he neither confirmed nor denied your allegation.

You knew that your friendship with Matt was unconventional. You guys often did things together and talked about topics that most people would consider to be inappropriate for friends to engage in, but neither one of you minded how close you were. After all, you were just friends.

The waitress approached your table, offered you some boxes to take the rest of your food to go, and dropped off the check. Matt started to reach for his wallet, but you stopped him. "No, no, no. I invited you out, baby. I'll pay for your dinner," you grinned at him, reaching for your purse.

"Twisted my arm," Matt jokingly scoffed at you and acted like it was the biggest inconvenience to put his wallet back into his pocket, but he secretly loved that you always insisted on covering his bill. After you'd paid and left a generous tip, you went to get up from your chair.

"You ready, Matt?" You asked, standing up and grabbing your purse and your coat. "Uh, wait. You think we could sit here for a few more minutes?" Matt latched onto your arm, stopping you from leaving the table. There was an urgency in his voice.

"Yeah, of course. Why? What's up?" You tilted your head at him and softly caressed his face. "Please. You're gonna make it worse. Need just a few minutes. That's all," he said, batting your hand away. Your eyes traveled to the napkin placed over his lap, and you picked up on what the problem was.

"Oh, don't worry. We'll wait here until it goes away," you smirked at Matt, biting your lip. He blushed and let out a nervous laugh at how easily turned on he was, but you secretly loved it.

Once Matt's hard on had subsided, the two of you made your way back out into the parking lot, your red heels clicking against the pavement beneath you. You threw your arm around his shoulder, steadying yourself on him and towering over him. He reciprocated your gesture, hooking his arm around your waist.

"So, do you really think about what I sound like in bed?" He teased you, unable to let go of that tidbit of information you'd shared earlier. "Oh, from time to time," you snickered. You pulled your keys out of your bag and went to unlock your car, but Matt reached for them. "Hey, how about I drive? You've had a few drinks."

"Yeah, just a few," you rolled your eyes, holding your keys out of his reach. "Come on. I know that you're careful. But what if someone else causes an accident? Then you'd automatically be at fault because you had three glasses of wine tonight," Matt looked at you with his big, blue eyes.

He knew you were stubborn, but he always knew how to reason with you. "Fine," you smiled at him, handing him your keys and hopping into the passenger seat.

Matt started up your car, tilted the rearview mirror down, and moved the seat forward a bit to adjust to how much shorter he was than you. "It's so weird seeing you in the driver's seat. You're always my passenger princess," you teased him, connecting your phone to bluetooth and throwing on one of your playlists. He playfully side-eyed you as you serenaded him from the passenger seat.

When he pulled up to your house, he lowered the volume on your car speakers. "Hey, you mind if I crash here tonight? I kind of didn't think about the fact that I don't have a ride home unless I take your car," he innocently asked, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

"Of course you can stay here, Matt. You're always welcome to stay the night with me," you ran your thumb over the back of his hand again, a gesture you did often because you knew how much Matt valued physical touch. You stepped out of your car and grabbed your purse and your coat, slinging both over your shoulder. Matt, who still had your keys, unlocked your front door, letting the two of you inside.

You steadied yourself using Matt's shoulder as you stepped out of your heels, one foot at a time, still towering over the boy by a few inches. "You know, Matt. I don't think you should be self-conscious about being a virgin. I think it's really hot," you giggled into his ear, unable to stop thinking about how pure and innocent he was.

"Well, I was never insecure about it until people laughed at me when I told them," Matt responded, looking down and pushing up his glasses. "That's because other people are insecure and convinced that everything is a race. Don't worry about them," you drunkenly responded. "Thanks for saying that," Matt shrugged and gave you a smile.

"Come up to my room with me, Matty," you cooed, running your stiletto nails through his hair. He glanced up at you with a submissive expression and nodded, following you up the stairs. His gaze landed on your legs, and he silently appreciated every curve as you led him up to your bed in a calculated manner.

"I wanna shower before bed. Will you help me with my zipper?" You asked him once the two of you were standing in your master bedroom outside your bathroom. "Sure," Matt replied, feeling the tension in the air as you spun around, peeking over your shoulder.

He took the zipper between his two shaky fingers and slowly pulled it down, revealing your back to him. "Come hang out with me while I shower so I don't get bored?" You invited him in, batting your lashes in his direction. "Yeah," he replied in a soft tone.

You turned the dial on your tub and began running the water while you grabbed your makeup wipes and started washing the lipstick from your mouth. Matt sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, watching you remove the pigmented color from your face.

"Matty, I know you don't know what you sound like during sex, but indulge me for a second. How do you sound when you touch yourself?" You softly asked him, looking into his blue eyes. His cheeks started to turn bring red, and his face grew warm. "Um, I guess I'm not super loud, but I make some noise, and I definitely have to try to stay quiet," Matt disclosed to you.

"Yeah? I bet you whimper," you smirked at Matt. "Why are you thinking about that?" Matt wondered, teasing you and purposely ignoring your accusation. "Just a little curious. That's all," you seductively replied, still buzzing from the wine. "Well, just for the record, I think I would like it if a girl were loud in bed," Matt smirked at you. "Oh, really?" You asked, licking your lips. "Mhmm," he quietly answered you.

"No peeking," you ordered Matt as you started to slip out of your dress. He covered his eyes and shut them until you'd disappeared behind the shower curtain. "You can look now," you said to Matt as you tilted your head back, allowing the hot water to drench your hair.

He let his eyes adjust back to the bathroom lighting, and he watched as the steam in the air began to fill the space in front of him. He took off his glasses, wiping the condensation that was in the air from them before placing them back on his face.

"Thank you for driving me home and for being such good company," you thanked Matt from the other side of the curtain. "That's what friends are for," he responded, but the word friends started to lose its meaning and began to seem more like a strange sound than an actual term the longer it tumbled around in Matt's head.

"So this guy you've been seeing," Matt started off with a twinge of jealousy in his voice. "What about him?" You peeked your head out from behind the curtain with shampoo in your hair. "Do you think you'll end up dating him?" Matt asked, his eyes flickering up at you from his ring he was fidgeting with again.

"I don't know. I don't want to sound superficial, but the fact that he's so quiet during sex and doesn't give me any reassurance that I'm doing a good job is kind of a dealbreaker. It really kills the mood for me," you admitted, removing your detachable shower head and rinsing out your hair with it.

"What kinds of things would you want him to say?" Matt casually wondered out loud. "It's kind of embarrassing," you started to say, scrubbing your body. "You can tell me. I won't laugh," Matt assured you. "Well, I'd want him to moan really loud for me and not hold back," you started to say, letting your imagination take over.

"I'd want him to tell me how good I'm making him feel," you said, your hand dipping between your legs and softly running it along your folds while you pictured it was Matt under your control, saying this all to you.

"I'd want him to say something like, 'just like that mommy' when I'm doing something with my tongue that he really likes," you hissed through your teeth as you spread your lips open with two fingers, letting the warm water from the shower head hit your most sensitive place.

Matt quietly listened, his lips falling slightly open and his eyes subtly widening as he pictured you doing unspeakable things. His erection started to strain against his pants.

"And I'd want him to tell me when I'm about to make him cum," you said right before an obvious whimper escaped your lips as you kept the shower head pointed at your clit. Matt started to giggle. "Hey, you said you wouldn't laugh," you peeked out from behind the shower curtain, giving Matt a pouty face.

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing because I think it's funny or anything. I just laugh when I'm nervous," Matt replied, sighing and fidgeting with his hair. "Awh. Do I make you nervous, baby?" You cooed, and Matt blushed and nervously chuckled in response.

"Another reason he and I probably won't ever date is that he doesn't really like how close we are," you admitted to Matt. "You and me?" He asked, sounding surprised. "Mhmm," you hummed from the shower. "He knows we're just friends, right?" Matt asked, unfogging his glasses once more.

"Yeah, but he thinks something's going on between us," you replied, shutting off the water after you'd rinse all your bodywash off of you. Matt was caught off-guard by this, but the more he silently mulled over the dynamic the two of you shared, the more he realized how often the two of you toed of the line of being just friends and being more than friends.

"Well, he doesn't have anything to worry about. I'm a virgin," he laughed and shrugged, putting his glasses back on. He watched as you leaned out of the shower to grab your towel, exposing your breast to him while you held eye contact and smirked when you watched his gaze drop to your chest.

"I'm sure you'll lose your virginity before you know it," you responded, wrapping the towel around yourself and stepping out of the shower. "You think so?" Matt asked, chewing on his lip. "I know so. There's no way a cute little submissive thing like you isn't going to draw in the attention of a girl who's bold enough to make a move," you cooed, licking your lips as your eye caught a glimpse of his hard on. "I hope so," he whispered.

You sauntered off into your room, and Matt followed behind like a lost puppy dog. You dropped your towel and started changing in front of him, and in an attempt to be as respectful as possible, he turned his gaze away from you.

"I'm gonna go get set up in the guestroom, and I'll see you in the morning," Matt told you, getting ready to leave the room as you slipped into a pair of underwear and a tank top. "Oh, come on, Matty. Stay. What's the fun of a sleepover if we don't get to hang out all night until we fall asleep in the same bed like we always do?" You asked, pouting at him.

He slowly nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. "You don't mind if I sleep in just this, do you?" You wondered, presenting your pretty, black lace panties and black camisole. "I don't mind," Matt answered, staring at you in awe.

You dried off your hair and started brushing through it, and after a few more moments of silence, you brought up the original topic of discussion, the same one you and Matt had been dancing around and circling back to all night.

"Could I actually just show you how loud I am?" You shifted your eyes up at Matt as you caught your lip between your teeth. "Show me how loud you are?" He naively wondered. "How loud I can get during sex? I really feel self-conscious about it, and I need your opinion," you batted your lashes again. "Uh, sure. Why not?" Matt said, trying to keep his cool. "This is purely for science," you raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded.

He felt like he was in a dream, watching as you put each of your legs on either side of his knee. You lowered your weight down onto it until your clothed pussy was resting right on his thigh, the increase in pressure creating a wonderful sensation for you. He could feel your heat and the soft thump thump of your throbbing clit through your panties. You leaned in and locked your soft lips onto his.

It wasn't the first kiss you'd shared. You'd kissed each other a handful of times when you were younger, under the guise that you were just practicing, but this was definitely the most passionate one.

His whole body started buzzing as your tongue begged for entrance, swirling around in his mouth. He could taste the red wine on your breath. You let out a loud moan against Matt's lips as you started rocking back and forth on his leg.

He immediately felt the fabric of his jeans strain against his hard cock as he studied the way your lips fell open and your eyes fell shut once you'd pulled back from the kiss. "Oh, Matt," the words escaped your lips loudly as you picked up the pace. He loved hearing you say his name in such an intimate manner and seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Your hands made their way to Matt's chest, curling your fingers and latching onto the his jacket as you rode his thigh, and you slowly started to push the fabric off over his shoulders. Your involuntary sensual sounds filled the room, and you started grinding on his knee a little harder.

Matt held his breath as you reached for the bulge in his jeans and started palming it through the denim. "Oh," he quietly whimpered at your touch.

He could feel how wet you were getting, rhythmically rolling your hips forward as you humped his thigh. Your moans resounded, reaching their crescendo as you fell apart on Matt's knee. "That's it. Gonna cum," you cried out.

You held him in an embrace as you finished, falling limp against him and nearly screaming in his ear. He wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, your wet hair tickling his forearms and your chest pressing against his cheek as it rose and fell while you caught your breath. You were both blushing.

"Did you think I was too loud?" You quietly whispered just above his ear. "You were loud, but I liked it a lot," Matt said after a short pause. You let out a laugh. Matt's cock was aching. "Oops. Sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you climbed off his knee, revealing a wet spot you'd left behind on his jeans. "I don't mind," he replied quietly, staring up at you.

Maybe the two of you were too close, and maybe it was inappropriate to grind on your best friend's thigh, but why stop now? His breath hitched in his throat as you descended to a kneeling position in front of him. "Now it's your turn," you seductively relayed, your fingers crawling across his lap, making their way to his zipper.

"My turn? For what?" Matt naively asked, wide-eyed. "To show me how you sound in bed. Please, Matty. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight unless I know," you pouted at him, undoing the button on his jeans. "Wait. What if this complicates our friendship?" Matt wondered out loud. "Oh, come on, Matty. We're basically already dating. We do everything a couple would do except have sex. Maybe it'll actually make things less complicated," you smirked at him.

Deep down, he knew you might be right. "O-okay," Matt stammered, peering down at the way the teeth of his zipper came undone between your fingers. He went to take off his glasses, but you stopped him. "Matty, please. Keep them on," you requested, and he nodded.

You gave him a lustful and devious expression as you pulled his pants down just enough to access his throbbing dick. He lifted his hips as he looked into your hypnotic eyes. You reveled in the fact that you were going to be the first to make him make those sounds that were about to pour from his mouth. You reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock, mesmerized by the sight.

His tip was the same shade as his parted lips, and it was shiny with pre-cum already. You started to curl your fingers around its thickness and gently stroke it up and down. "Look at that," you gasped while you observed more clear liquid drool out of it, admiring how sensitive it was. Matt softly whimpered as it quivered in your hand.

You ran your palm up his shaft, grazing the head and spreading the fluid around, using it as lubricant while you pumped it back and forth. He let out a soft whine as you stimulated him. "Good boy," you praised him in a low, seductive tone.

He started gently bucking his hips up, driving his sensitive dick further into your hand while he let out a few stifled moans. "Don't hold back, baby," you cooed, picking up speed. "Mmm. It feels so good, mommy," he cried out, sending blood straight to your clit.

"That's it. Let me hear you," you responded, slowly closing the distance between his aggravated tip and your soothing lips, latching onto his most sensitive nerve endings. He gasped at the sensation. It was impossible for him to stay quiet.

Fervent noises filled the room while he watched as you made the head disappear behind your lips, then his shaft, and then you slid all the way down until your nose was pressed up against his lower tummy. "Yes, yes, yes," he whimpered, holding your wet hair out of your face.

You loved how responsive and interactive he was, doing everything you would have wanted a boy to do while giving him head. You bobbed your head up and down a few times, coaxing more pleasant sounds from Matt while he savored the soft, wet, warm feeling of your mouth.

You slid all the way down on his shaft again until the tip was in your throat, this time holding still while you hummed against his dick. "Please. Please keep going," Matt begged, trying to buck hip hips again, but you held them down, keeping him from being able to move. You were driving him crazy.

"Mommy, please move your mouth. I'll do anything," he implored, his voice cracking with desperation. You teased him, moving your head up and down but just slightly and at a painfully slow pace. "Faster, mommy," he begged you.

After a few more minutes of his pleading, you finally gave in, sloppily drooling all over his cock while you moved in a steady, calculated rhythm, stimulating every nerve ending on his rod while he inched closer to the finish line. "Feels so good. Gonna make such a mess for you, mommy," Matt desperately whined.

The words leaving his mouth suddenly had you aware of how empty you were feeling between your legs.

You moved back up his length with your mouth, but this time, when you reached the tip, you slipped it out of your mouth and smirked up at Matt. "Please. No. Why'd you stop?" He wondered, sounding distressed by the way his pleasure came to an end suddenly before he was done.

You stood up. "Be a good boy and wait," you responded lustfully, dropping your panties and pulling off your top. Matt fell silent as he admired your body, his eyes following every curve.

The shape of your body drew in his stare to your most intimate parts, the way your thighs came together in a v shape, practically directing his eyes towards your pussy. His eyes wandered up towards your breasts that he'd only ever seen for seconds at a time when you'd changed in front of him.

"Be a good boy and let mommy cum one more time, and then it'll be your turn. Got it?" You asked, slowly stepping towards him again. "Anything you want, mommy," he obediently nodded.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, taking his dick into your grip and guiding it towards your hole. "Oh my god," Matt gutturally moaned with his eyes rolling back as you slowly descended onto him, taking it inch by inch. He couldn't believe you were taking his virginity.

"Don't you dare cum yet," you smirked at him as you lowered all the way down and started bouncing on his cock. He nodded at you with his glazed over eyes and his jaw hanging open as you picked up speed, your tits bouncing in his face while he admired them.

You started rubbing your clit while you rode Matt, and more urgent whimpers poured from both of your lips. "How's it feel, Matty?" You cooed. "Best feeling ever," he moaned, peering into your eyes. "You're so big. You fill me up so good!" You exclaimed as his dick rutted into your g-spot. He swooned at your compliment, placing both his hands on your waist.

You rocked your hips forward, your pussy gliding up and down his length, and you felt your legs behind to shake. You could feel Matt's dick throbbing in your hole as he whimpered for you and looked up at you with his most desperate expression, which sent you past the point of no return.

Your pussy spasmed around his sensitive cock, and he could feel every contraction as you called out his name loudly over and over. You rubbed your clit in tighter, faster circles. He felt your whole body tighten while you shook and loudly squealed as you finished onto him, leaving behind the milky evidence of how much fun you'd had leaking down his shaft.

"Please," he begged, staring down at the mess you made on his cock and knowing he'd done that to you had him right on the edge of his climax. "Please what, baby?" You bit your lip, still riding him. "Please, mommy. Don't stop. Need a warm place to cum inside," he cried out.

"Of course, baby. Of course you can cum inside," you assured him, cradling his head and pushing your breasts into his face. Your rose-scented bodywash filled his senses. He peered up at you with his pretty blue eyes that were filled with lust and desire. His eyebrows were furrowed together in an expression of sheer pleasure.

Goosebumps arose all over his flesh as an orgasmic rush coursed through his body. He whimpered fervently against your chest, his cock twitching and draining inside of you. You loved watching him come undone underneath you. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick until he started hissing through his teeth about how sensitive it was.

You brought your movements to a stop, tilted Matt's chin up with your hand, and kissed him while he was still inside of you. He looked up at you wide-eyed and panting. "Wow, I never knew sex could be that intense," he innocently shook his head. "I made you feel good, didn't I?" You asked, nibbling on your lip. "So good," he replied, pushing up his glasses.

"That was so hot. I knew you'd be a whimperer."

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demonic0angel · 24 days ago

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Thoughts while Reading Red Hood Comics (click for clarity)

To be frank, I only read all issues of Red Hood: the Lost Days, issues 1-12 of the first volume of Red Hood and the Outlaws, and then 1-26 of the second volume of RHATO. So here is what I’ve been thinking and drawing as I read them.

*SPOILERS*

1) I made Artemis a suit that could be used of she was working with Jazz and Jason as Wolf and Red Hood in their gang, with a helmet that covered her identity. However, I might remake it bc I’m not happy with it.

2) I was inspired to draw an outfit with a blend of fashion styles while reading RHATO 2nd vol., issues 7-11. I, of course, drew Jazz as the subject.

3) Chibi Starfire and Wraith for no particular reason.

4) Why did I read all of this? So I could figure out Jason’s timeline during the period of time where he was resurrected so I could use it for Pokémon AU. You may judge me, but be glad I’m doing research!!

5) I remember drawing Kori in her imagined full suit and I was worried that it was too revealing. After reading RHATO, my version of her looks like she's going to church 💀 I did, however, loved the scenes where she got wet/injured bc it was cool asf to see her fire hair being weakened like that.

6) I kept wondering how I was gonna fit Jazz into all of the timeline with this new knowledge, but I think she’d come a little bit after RHATO and the contents of Jason’s journey would probably shift a lot in order to accommodate a DP crossover. However, I wanted to create a space suit for Jazz anyways, as inspired by RHATO issue 12 from the first volume.

7) Legit gagged and wanted to kms when I saw Talia kiss Jason in the comics (ladies, please!!! Bat Dick cannot be this good!!!) but I loved the scenes where she's absolutely terrified of Jason. I thought it was so interesting how everyone feared him, even if it's honestly a load of glazing nonsense.

8) I hated how RHATO characterized Kori, but I kept wondering what would happen if a better version of her (not the RHATO version) and Dan met. I think in a weird way, they'd be really good friends for various reasons. To Dan, Kori reminds him of Jazz and to Kori, she can tell that he is a hurting soul that needs a friend. I also imagine that with Tamaranean customs and ghost culture (the phanon hc that fighting/touch being a big deal in the ghost zone), I think they'd be super fun together. Also, hot and cold?? Orange and green?? Hero and villain?? Like hello?? Is no one seeing the yin and yang going on???

9) I really, really, really wanted to draw a Red Hood plush that is inspired by the Enderman from the Minecraft Cuutopia plushy series. He is squishy and marketable.

10) Isabel is super cute but holy shit, girl, STAND UP!! The way she's written is also ridiculous bc of the amount of plot holes and characterization? To be frank, it's extremely strange that she remembers the 15 year old boy on ONE airplane ride several years ago (especially when she was probably 19+ years old!!), that she would flirt with another passenger (and Jason specifically, like the writers tried to glaze him so much that it was just 😟), and that she'd STILL flirt with him when he tells her that he's going to a funeral. Girl. You're too cute for this. Please raise your standards!!

Conclusion, RHATO the 2nd volume was pretty enjoyable and RH: Lost Days is interesting. RHATO the first volume was hot garbage, but what kept me going for a little while was this one line from a review about RHATO #8: " It makes me wonder if her bed is the final sight on the tour, wink wink cough puke." which made me CACKLE LIKE OMG 💀💀

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devilish-cherry · 2 months ago

Text

ᨳ♡₊➳ jujutsu kaisen x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack with plot

"You hate your job. The pay is bad, your manager is worse, and customers are somehow both entitled and clueless. Just as you finish contemplating whether unpaid breaks are a human rights violation, weird new people keep showing up to the café. They all seem to know each other. Sometimes they talk in cryptic phrases. What the hell is this domain and why do they want to expand it? One time, a man with stitches on his forehead walked in, made prolonged eye contact with you, and then left without ordering anything. You’re pretty sure he was a serial killer. Another time, the one with white hair and sunglasses indoors mentioned a "higher mission", and you’re 90% sure this is how cult documentaries start. One of your regulars only speaks in weird food-related phrases. You assume he has some kind of medical condition, but no one explains anything to you. But you are not about to ask questions, because ignorance is bliss and also job security. And unfortunately, they are all weird and they seem very interested in coming back."

꒰ masterlist ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 7 ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 9 ꒱

ᨳ♡₊➳ or read on archive of our own!

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: hihi!! i would’ve updated sooner, but unfortunately, my body decided to nerf me with a sickness debuff. tragic. 😔 BUT!!! i had so much fun writing this chapter. like, full-on giggling to myself like a mad scientist. i really hope you guys enjoy it!! (or at the very least find it as funny as my fever-ridden brain did)

The day starts like any other. Which is to say, badly.

Greg the Manager, who has been conveniently absent all morning, suddenly materializes with the urgency of a man who just remembered his parole officer exists. He’s slightly out of breath, like he sprinted exactly halfway here and then gave up. His tie is loose, his shirt is untucked, and his eyes have the glazed-over look of someone who is about to make their incompetence your problem.

“Oh, by the way, a news crew is coming in five minutes.”

You pause mid-coffee pour. The statement is so absurd, so wildly out of pocket, that your brain flatlines for a solid three seconds. “A what.”

Greg, already retreating like the rat he is, waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah, some feel-good story about supporting small businesses or whatever. They called a few weeks ago? Thought it’d be good PR. Forgot to tell you. Anyway, good luck!”

You stare at him, waiting for some kind of elaboration. An explanation. An apology. A joke. Anything.

“And you’re telling me this now?”

Greg shrugs, the human embodiment of the ‘Not My Problem’ energy. “I forgot.”

“Greg.”

“Gotta go, bro.” And like that, he vanishes, as if he were never there to begin with.

You stand there, emotionally buffering. You stare at the empty space where he once stood, trying to come to terms with the fact that a news crew is about to descend upon your personal hellscape with exactly zero warning. You look down at your apron, which has a very concerning stain on it (origin unknown), and realize your only hope is radical acceptance.

There’s no time to panic. You take a deep breath, straighten your apron, and slap on your best retail smile—the one that says I hate my job but I need to pay rent!

The café door swings open, and in comes the news crew with the confidence of people who have never suffered a single day in food service. The camera crew bustles in, setting up tripods, adjusting microphones, and looking around like they’re trying to absorb the rich ambiance of your workplace. Which, to be clear, smells like burnt espresso and quiet desperation.

The reporter, a professionally dressed woman with overly bright eyes and the enthusiasm of someone who has never once been berated by a middle-aged woman demanding to know why oat milk costs extra, beams at you. "We’re so excited to feature your charming little café!"

The words I would rather die are on the tip of your tongue, but you figure that’s not what she wants to hear. Instead, you nod politely. “We are also excited.”

She turns toward a customer near the window—Muffin Guy, your most mysterious regular. He sits in his usual spot, staring unblinkingly at the muffin before him, as if waiting for it to reveal a prophecy.

The reporter, undeterred by the strange aura surrounding him, approaches. “We love to highlight loyal customers!” she chirps. “Sir, could you tell us what you love most about this café?”

Silence.

The camera zooms in.

Muffin Guy does not blink.

He does not move.

He does not acknowledge the camera, the reporter, or the fundamental concept of human interaction.

The silence stretches.

The tension is suffocating. The reporter’s smile wavers. A single bead of sweat rolls down the intern’s forehead. Someone in the back coughs.

The reporter, clearly regretting all of her life choices, tries again. “Sir?”

Still nothing.

The camera stays on him for a full twenty seconds.

It is unbearable.

You mentally check out just as the reporter shifts focus to you, her expression slightly cracked but still hopeful. “So, tell us about this lovely café.”

You recite your dead-inside script: “We serve coffee. Sometimes people drink it.”

There is a beat of silence.

The reporter’s enthusiasm dims like a cheap LED bulb. “Wonderful.”

The reporter, visibly eager to move on from whatever existential nightmare Muffin Guy just put her through, scans the café for her next victim. You can see the calculations happening in real time behind her eyes: Okay, that guy and the barista were a bust, but surely the next person will be normal.

Unfortunately, she picks Choso.

Choso, who has been standing near the counter watching you with his usual unblinking intensity, straightens up as she approaches. You can tell he's eager to be of assistance, but his posture is too stiff, his expression too serious, and he moves with the slow, deliberate energy of a cryptid trying to blend into human society.

“How about you?” The reporter smiles, extending the mic. “What’s your name?”

Choso stares at her for a beat too long, like he’s mentally reviewing whether or not he should tell her. Finally, he leans toward the microphone. “Hello,” he says in his usual dead-serious monotone. “I am Choso."

The way he delivers it makes it sound like a warning. Like he's introducing himself as an omen of death.

The reporter, momentarily thrown off by his delivery, laughs nervously. “Oh! And what do you like about this café?”

Choso considers this. Too long.

Like, way too long.

The camera guy shifts. The boom mic sags. The intern wipes a bead of sweat from his brow.

Finally, Choso nods to himself, having seemingly reached a conclusion of great personal significance. A normal person would say something safe like the coffee or the atmosphere or that it’s not a Denny’s. But Choso is not normal. “The barista.”

The camera zooms in on your horrified expression.

The world stops. The temperature drops. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks.

The reporter blinks. Once. Twice. Three times, like she’s trying to reboot her system. Her professional instincts desperately try to steer this awkward trainwreck back onto the tracks. “And what about the drinks?”

Choso nods, like this is an acceptable question. “The lattes bring me peace.”

The reporter hesitates. “They… bring you peace?”

“Yes.” Choso stares directly into the camera, like he’s about to issue a public service announcement. His expression is completely unreadable. “I have known suffering. But the lattes are satisfactory.”

There is an audible silence. The kind that only happens when everyone in the room is simultaneously thinking Oh, this man has killed someone before. It’s like everyone suddenly realizes they are part of something far bigger than themselves. Something unknowable. Something profoundly unsettling. Somewhere in the background, Yuji is shaking his head like a man watching a car crash in slow motion.

There is no appropriate response to this, and yet the reporter is contractually obligated to continue this interview. “...Right. And, uh, what do you do?”

Choso doesn't hesitate. “I protect my brother.” he answers with a hint of pride.

“Oh!” The reporter latches onto this like a drowning woman grasping for a life preserver. “That’s… nice?”

Choso tilts his head, as if considering the very concept of “nice.” Then, as if suddenly struck by divine realization, he adds, “I would also protect the barista. If required.”

You nearly choke on your own spit.

The reporter, alarmed, shifts slightly away from him. “...Required from what?”

Choso does not blink. “Threats.”

“What… kind of threats?”

Choso narrows his eyes. “Unclear. But I remain vigilant.”

The weight of that statement sinks into the room. The energy shifts. The café suddenly feels smaller.

Then, with no warning, Choso reaches into his coat.

The reporter flinches. The intern drops his clipboard. The cameraman tenses, like he’s about to record a live crime.

Yuji, who knows exactly where this is going, starts waving his arms in the background like a man desperately trying to stop a rogue missile launch.

Choso pulls out… a single hard-boiled egg.

The collective exhale from the crew is audible.

Solemnly, as if this is the most important action he will ever take, Choso extends the egg to you.

“Eat.”

You stare at the egg, then at him, then at the egg again.

You clear your throat. “I, uh... Thanks, Choso.”

Choso nods once, as if you’ve just agreed to some kind of unspoken contract.

The reporter looks at the camera like she is moments from calling the police.

While the reporter is still trying to process the whole mildly threatening egg presentation situation, Gojo—human calamity, agent of chaos, destroyer of peace—has decided that his one and only mission is to singlehandedly ruin every single camera shot.

The moment the cameraman turns around, Gojo materializes behind the reporter, flashing a double peace sign like he’s about to drop the hottest mixtape of the century. His grin is blinding. His sunglasses somehow catch every possible light source.

The cameraman pivots, adjusting the shot.

Somehow, impossibly, Gojo is already there.

This time, he’s leaning against the counter, holding a latte he definitely did not pay for, sipping obnoxiously with exaggerated flair. He winks at the camera like he’s in an over-the-top commercial for overpriced cologne. If he had a fan blowing his hair back in slow motion, it would be perfect.

“Sir, please move,” the cameraman pratically begs.

Gojo, unfazed, turns his full attention to the lens.

“HELLOOOOO~,” Gojo sings, waving both hands like a game show host who has just revealed a brand-new car. “I’M THE FACE OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT!”

This is objectively false.

Before you can attempt damage control, Gojo launches himself next to you like a man with zero impulse control and a PhD in being a public nuisance. He throws an arm around your shoulders, his sunglasses catching the light dramatically, making it impossible to tell if he’s about to endorse your café or announce the second coming of Christ.

“This barista?” he announces dramatically, pointing at you with a flourish like he’s about to knight you on national television. “The best. The backbone of this place.”

Yuji, in the background, is visibly panicking. “Gojo-sensei, please. No.”

Gojo completely ignores him. Instead, he strikes a different pose, basking in the camera’s attention like it physically sustains him.

“I come here every single day,” he declares with the confidence of a man who lies recreationally.

You narrow your eyes. “You show up, like, once a week at best.”

Gojo ignores you, too.

The reporter, attempting to maintain some semblance of control, nods hesitantly. “Oh! So you’re a regular—”

“You know why?” Gojo interrupts and then pauses, letting the tension build as if he’s delivering the monologue of a lifetime. “The experience. The drama. The coffee that, against all odds, continues to exist despite this machine’s cursed energy.”

He gestures vaguely to the espresso machine.

As if in response, the espresso machine lets out a deep, unsettling groan that seems to reverberate through the walls.

The reporter looks horrified. “Cursed—what?”

“Nothing!” Yuji yelps, visibly panicked, as he attempts to grab Gojo. “He’s joking! Joking! Ha ha ha!”

Gojo, still completely ignoring Yuji, gestures dramatically to the café at large.

“I’m just saying,” he continues, effortlessly resisting Yuji’s efforts, “the vibes? Unmatched.” He motions toward Muffin Guy, who is still staring directly into the camera like an urban legend caught on night vision footage. “Where else do you find a guy like that?”

The cameraman—who is either an artist or a man in the process of losing his grip on reality—zooms in on Muffin Guy.

It is haunting.

Yuji tries to grab him once more. Gojo dodges effortlessly, throwing up finger guns at the camera.

“Hashtag Support Local Businesses!”

You consider whether it's legally permissible to quit mid-shift.

The reporter, who looks like she has aged twenty years in the past five minutes and like she's beginning to suspect that this café is actually some kind of underground social experiment, attempts to regain control.

Before she can salvage any part of this nightmare of an interview, the door opens.

The camera instinctively pans toward the entrance. The crew is expecting another customer, maybe, finally, someone normal.

They are wrong.

Toji walks in, moving with the kind of dangerous ease that suggests he’s about five seconds away from committing a felony or taking a nap—whichever comes first.

Toji, who was very much not expecting cameras, tilts his head slightly, his eyes flicking to the reporter, then the crew, then to you.

You lock eyes with him.

You watch, helpless, as he slowly takes in the situation.

Then, with the kind of ease that only comes from years of very questionable decision-making, he smirks.

“Damn. This place got cameras now? What is this, evidence?”

Behind him, Shiu walks in, immediately lights a cigarette inside the café like a man who has never respected a single law in his life, then realizes—far too late—that there are cameras everywhere.

Slowly, with the calculated movement of a man processing a series of very poor life choices, he lowers the cigarette, muttering under his breath, “Oh, shit.”

The reporter goes still.

You can see the realization dawn on her face—the slow, sinking horror that she has just stumbled into something she was never supposed to witness. The reporter looks at you, eyes wide with concern.

You meet her gaze, deadpan.

You just nod.

By the time the segment actually airs, it is nothing like the wholesome, feel-good small-business feature it was supposed to be. Instead of showcasing a “quirky but struggling café,” the final product is an absolute trainwreck.

The official headline?

"Muffin Man, Mystery Egg, and Wanted Criminal? Local Café More Concerning Than Quirky."

It gets worse.

The tone of the segment suggests the café is possibly haunted, a front for illegal activity, and a gathering spot for deeply concerning individuals. It does not encourage people to visit. It warns them. Every shot looks like it was pulled from an unreleased horror documentary about places you should not go. The ominous background music—something that belongs in a Dateline special—only adds to the effect.

The highlights include:

The news crew inexplicably leaving in the full, unbroken 15 seconds of Muffin Guy staring directly into the camera like he’s either a demon or an AI-generated horror experiment. No words. No movement. Just him, staring—waiting—as if challenging the audience to comprehend his existence. The way they edit it makes it look like he’s part of some psychological horror movie, a lost soul trapped between dimensions.

Choso’s interview, which, thanks to the dramatic lighting and his very serious tone, is framed like a true crime documentary. They use dramatic zoom-ins on his expression, emphasizing the fact that he looks way too intense for a man talking about coffee. The way he deadpans “I have known suffering. But the lattes are satisfactory.” is played over eerie background music, making it sound like he's fought in at least three wars, suffered great personal loss, and only finds solace in lattes. The words "Remains Vigilant Against Threats.” slide across the screen in bold letters.

Gojo and Yuji wrestling in the background while Gojo dramatically yells, “They can’t prove I don’t work here!” The footage is grainy, shaky, and the captions just read: [Incoherent yelling] as Yuji desperately tries to prevent Gojo from launching himself directly into the camera.

Toji, smirking at the camera, casually implying he is a wanted fugitive. The producers slow down his words for dramatic effect: “Damn. This place got cameras now? What is this, evidence?” followed by a zoom-in of his grin and the words: "??? Unknown Criminal Activity ???"

The espresso machine, actively rattling and smoking in the background of multiple shots. At one point, the camera catches it letting out a deep, unsettling groan, and they overlay dramatic violin music as the reporter visibly recoils. The segment's b-roll footage of the café includes multiple instances of the espresso machine shaking, glitching out, and occasionally making a noise that sounds vaguely like a demonic whisper. The captions simply read: [UNSETTLING METALLIC GROAN]

Greg the Manager, with the most suspicious phrasing humanly possible, stating, “We’re totallyyy not violating health codes!” The phrasing alone guarantees that everyone now believes the café is absolutely violating health codes. The camera cuts immediately after, giving it the same energy as a villain’s last known sighting before fleeing the country.

There is a random, blurry, and heavily pixelated, freeze-frame of Greg at the end of the segment, edited in black and white, with the words: “DOES THIS MAN KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING?”

The answer is no.

And finally, the closing words from the reporter, who stares deadpan into the camera, fully drained of life and hope, and states with exhausted finality:

“I am never going back there.”

The screen cuts to black.

A single ominous boom sound plays.

Gojo, watching the segment from his phone at full volume in the café, nods to himself, clearly proud of his work. “We did great!”

Yuji is actively attempting to dig a hole and bury himself in it.

Choso, on the other hand, looks genuinely pleased. He gives a slow, approving nod. “I have promoted the barista’s establishment.”

You stare at him. “That was not promotion, that was a federal warning.”

Gojo waves a dismissive hand. “Details, details.”

You don’t have the energy to argue. You’re already preparing for the worst when you walk into work the next morning.

You expect Greg the Manager to be pacing anxiously, waiting for someone from the health department to shut the place down.

You expect fewer customers because, surely, surely, no sane human being would willingly come to a place that was just portrayed as a front for criminal activity, a ghost-infested hellhole, and a potential cult meeting ground all in one.

You do not expect to see a line out the door.

You stop in your tracks, processing the sight of dozens of people wrapped around the block, all eagerly waiting to enter the chaos.

The café is more popular than ever. People aren’t scared. They’re curious.

Inside, Greg—who has learned absolutely nothing—is practically buzzing with excitement.

“Dude, FREE PUBLICITY!” he cheers, spinning in circles like a man who thinks chaos is good for business. "We need to, like, start making merch!"

You stare at him. Then at the never-ending line of morbidly curious customers.

Then at the espresso machine, which lets out a low, menacing growl.

Then at Muffin Guy, who is—as always—unmoving.

Then at Choso, who is standing in his usual spot by the counter, nodding approvingly, like he has manifested this outcome through sheer force of will.

Slowly, you reach into your pocket, pull out your phone, and start updating your resume.

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: fun fact: this chapter is based on my real-life nightmare scenario. i have never been a barista, but i have worked in an animal shelter (as a manager, no less—why did they trust me with that? unclear.), and i still have war flashbacks to the absolute menaces that walked through those doors. (there was a time when a man i instantly recognized from a local true crime documentary tried to adopt a dog from us?? he was found innocent because of very questionable reasons so needless to say i was terrified the whole time lmfao)

one day, the higher-ups told me the news was coming to interview us, and i lived in pure fear from that moment on. i spent days spiraling, imagining the absolute worst possible situations. (what if i tripped over a dog? what if i accidentally said something insane on live tv? what if i just. forgot how to speak?) i had actual nightmares about it. thankfully, they never came while i worked there, but the fear? the dread? permanently ingrained in my soul. so naturally, i had to make the barista suffer through it. :)

also!! just a heads-up—i wrote another side story for a choso x reader request set in the minimum wage, maximum suffering universe! not canon to the main fic, just a fun little “what if” scenario, feel free to check it out! as always, thank you so much for reading and your feedback!! reading your reactions makes my day, and i’m so grateful for everyone enjoying this little unhinged fic. hope you all enjoyed the chaos of this chapter!!

₊⊹. tag list: @alpha-mommy69 @luluminati @amortsukii-writes @inthedarkshadows000 @isomehowexist @not-aya @emochosoluvr @lov3vivian @literallyushiwaka @kodditty @arrozyfrijoles23

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #choso x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #higuruma x reader #naoya x reader #shiu x reader #mahito x reader #shoko x reader #jjk crack #jjk x gender neutral reader #k #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

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luvvixu · 11 months ago

Text

the end

synopsis: the end of your relationship was inevitable. that's why both of you and gojo satoru individually prepare yourselves against the pain and separation of an upcoming divorce. and when that thing came, you suddenly found yourselves trapped inside the circle of your marriage where denial is present, and acceptance is absent. let us all see how the marriage walk through the end.

tags: divorce!au, ex-husband!gojo, angst, hurt/no comfort, mentioned of death, mentioned of trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: here's an almost 8k words of oneshot about gojo marriage again. i've mentioned this before but im taking a very small break and will be back on june 5 with an update regarding to the chapter of mind over matter ff. be sure to check out the announcement!

it was a peaceful morning on your balcony with satoru gojo, your husband for almost two years. you are reading your newly purchased book with your glasses on to help you see the letters.

you take a second peek at your husband who was already gazing at you from the beginning. his gaze was painted with a mixture of sadness and adoration towards you. looks like he had something to say, and you're right, he did have something to say when he mumbles your name.

oh god, you knew where this conversation would be. keeping your eyes bore on him, you fully turned your attention to him and waited for him to speak what's on his heart and mind.

"i think we should file a divorce."

his voice was monotonous and yet you knew it really wasn't, his face also did the same since you also didn't hold one either. your expression still remained calm like he was not asking for a divorce as you closed your book and then put it back on the coffee table.

meanwhile, satoru couldn't read you at this moment because you were quiet, too quiet for his liking. were you so shocked that you couldn't react to his sudden cut of ties? or was it just you already expected this the moment when you woke up?

probably, the most accurate reason and answer was the second one. satoru watches you lean on the seat with your hands clasp on your lap. he also never fails to see the neutral glaze in your eyes.

"if you are wondering why i didn't hold any emotion as you speak, that's because i already reacted a year ago." a sigh escalated from your lips as you removed your glasses also and put it on the table.

"you expected that this day would come?" he said in silence while secretly fiddling with the calluses on his hand—a hidden and canonical habit of satoru whenever he feels anxious and worried.

before this day would come, the two of you got married when both of you were twenty. a young, dumb, and somehow not stupid but definitely reckless who took a big tramp of change among themselves.

satoru was the one who asked you to get married after almost four years of being inside an on and off relationship. that was very fast and very reckless at that time—but of course you agreed because you are a fool to get yourself blinded by your love towards him.

so, the two of you got married and with only some people whom you both held close dearly attended the said wedding. it was simple and civil, but to you, it was your everything. the wedding and this marriage mean so much to you.

your marriage went pretty well in your first few months of being married. both of you got yourself a house with a nice garden that you absolutely adore, you also got yourselves a work almost instantly too. satoru got more missions since he was now a graduate, while you work in your own cafe and occasionally take jujutsu stuff.

things were really fine with heaven as the witness. until one night during your almost first anniversary, you caught him going home around three to four o'clock in the morning with a smell of alcohol and woman's perfume that's definitely not yours. he's really drunk, which was weird because he hates alcohol. you wondered what's the occasion or any celebration that should be celebrated and whatnots, but you can't think of any. so that leads you to silently crying.

you did not confront him about your first suspicion of cheating, you want him to admit it himself, but that doesn't mean you're going to tolerate that piece of shit because for god's sake! there's a fucking hickey on his neck that night, you knew it wasn't yours since you've barely had an intercourse due to both of your busy schedules.

you remember asking him about his whereabouts that night like you weren't aware, but his answer just disappoints you, he told you that he had an emergency mission and needed him in action asap at kyoto around 11pm and it took him some time to finish it. as mentioned before, his answer disappoints you, because your assumption has been partially proven.

satoru was clearly lying about his whereabouts that night but still the cheating allegations were not clear. maybe the seemingly foreign hickeys on his neck was already evidence but you're probably still in denial, so you didn't instantly conclude that he was really cheating with you.

but you still couldn't shake off his illicit affairs. why? because satoru was lying about the emergency mission on kyoto. he wasn't there, you knew that because you were the one who took the mission, not him. satoru actually rejected the mission because he's busy with other matters so you took it yourself without even telling him.

all of these things that are happening leads you back to that day when he proposed to you. it was so sudden that it made you a little bit skeptical. but when you asked him why he suddenly asked you to get married? easy, you didn't know.

however, you had your hypothesis that after geto disappeared and went on his rebellious phase, you let gojo use you to relieve his grief. that is why when you realize that this marriage is meant to not last long, you secretly cry to yourself during your first year anniversary as a married couple.

meanwhile, satoru knew to himself that he couldn't stand a long-term relationship. though he also started to feel bad for making things go very quickly with you, his love towards you is pure and genuine. in fact, he would do anything just to keep you safe and happy. but he wasn't able to do that when you're the opposite of him.

he is selfish and you are selfless.

no matter how hard he tried to change or even make things up for you, he just couldn't do it. there's this invisible dark string that pulls him inside the void of darkness. and he couldn't afford to bring you down with him. the thing that geto did really left a scar, a permanent scar to his chest that creates an inescapable hole that keeps on growing bigger and sucking his life in the process.

while you, you fully commit yourself to him. that's why everything would be pointless for satoru to let himself get hurt just to protect you. because you would literally throw yourself in the fire when he's burning.

it was like the two of you are a magnet with the same pole. you can't attract each other no matter how hard you try to let them collide.

back to reality, your head was faced downward. your husband sought for your eyes by calling your name meticulously, but you refused. an internal laugh at your pathetic figure rang through your mind, you are laughing at yourself for believing that you are already prepared for this moment, turns out, you're not—you’ll never be.

satoru mumbles your name again. and all of the sudden, you just let out a nod, followed by a small sigh. you let yourself look at him again despite the unnoticed tears in your eyes.

"okay, but let's spend this whole day as husband and wife for the last time. let's do the things we usually do during our free time." you said, and satoru agrees with you almost instantly. he thinks this is the least thing he could do for you before setting each other free.

everything went normal for the rest of the day. satoru takes you out for lunch, visits your favorite cafe for desserts, and even goes to the park where he asked you out to be his wife.

and right now, the two of you are in the cemetery, specifically in haibara's graveyard. the sun was proceeding to its dusk, making the place a bit solemn because of its ambience.

"do you think he'll be mad at my decision?" your soon-to-be ex-husband asked you with his small tired voice. haibara was your bestest friend of all and he actually talked to gojo when he's still alive about his relationship with you. he would like gojo to take care of you and treat you more than you deserve in your entire life.

"i don't think so. haibara only wants the best for us. he's a man of freedom, after all. and yet, how ironic because he, himself, has no freedom during his time in the jujutsu." you answered him as you watched the candle burn itself.

satoru looked at you. "how about you, y/n? are you mad at my decision?" he asked you a bit hesitant.

you just smiled at him and said, "i will answer that later, satoru." satoru nodded at your answer, he understood that you had a lot to say to him later.

after some time, you two decided to go home to your shared apartment. the journey back was fun and relaxing, it was filled with smiles and laughter that will soon vanish as the dawn is coming.

6:00 PM

both of you arrived at home. you helped satoru hang his coat on the raker like you usually do whenever he comes home during winter. this small act is something that would be definitely missed by him dearly, since you will not be around to do it.

"thanks for agreeing to go out with me." you said to him with a smile that almost reached your eyes. the only thing that stops you from giving your bestest smile was the divorce, but you subside because this is your last day as a married couple. you have to enjoy it to the extent.

"that was the least thing i could do for you before…nevermind." he said. satoru was not cheerful enough to make you smile whenever your eyes met. you also noticed that he was downhearted since you visited haibara's graveyard.

though as you were heading in your shared apartment, he was smiling and laughing. guess you didn't overlook him at all and you failed to notice his hidden pain.

you watched him lay down on the couch. "you looked bothered. was it because i didn't answer your question earlier?" you said quietly.

satoru didn't say anything, and according to his vocabulary, silence means yes. you sigh to yourself and take a seat on the same couch where your husband was lying in.

your hand reached out for his face, cupping it as satoru looked at you with his hooded eyelids. those magical six blue eyes are staring at you with known emotion, pain and agony.

"you didn't ask me why i suddenly wanted to get divorce…" he mumbles, nestling his head in your palm.

"you agreed without questioning me. i don't even see you cry about this. why y/n? are you hurting yourself by keeping your emotions inside you?" he continued. the pain in his voice breaks your heart into bits of pieces. satoru looked so vulnerable, his true emotions are showing exclusively for you.

you let out a small but bitter chuckle. "crying is not part of the things we usually do during our free time together, toru." his eyes widened at your answer. a droplet of tears slide down on your palm. satoru was crying, and you let him weep because you knew he's pent up.

"and i'm not mad at you. i also didn't ask you any questions because i know you know what you are doing and i respect your decision." you added.

"although, i admit. i want to bawl my eyes out. i want to scream because my heart is aching for believing that i was prepared for this moment." your breathings started to become shaky also just by watching satoru weep under your touch.

you refused to cry. at least not now.

"but i don't want to ruin this day by crying. i want both of us to savor this moment with smiles and laughter. so that when we part our ways, we wouldn't have any regrets to hold."

"so, satoru…let's continue to spend the rest of our night happily, hmm?" you let yourself smile for him to be motivated to stop from crying. however, he did the opposite. satoru cried even harder.

your hand is being cradled by him. you could feel his tears on your palm followed by his little hiccups. this scene alone in front of was usually enough to make you cry even harder than him. it was utterly heartbroken to see your man cry like this.

"hush, my…" love, that's the word you would like to say but forbids you to do so. satoru also noticed it too and he absolutely hates the feeling of it.

"l-love. call me love. c-call me like you used to call me before. first name basis is not part of the things we usually do during our free time together." he mimicked your words earlier. though it may sound like a joke, it isn't. satoru has been dead serious since the beginning of the day.

"my love…"

"y-yes, my sweetheart?" he responded.

your lips quiver from the overflowing emotions in your chest, but you still refuse to let yourself cry even when you're all by yourself. god, you are hopeless and devastated.

but dear me, it felt so good to hear him call you with endearing words. oh how you wish this kind of moment would last forever. maybe in another life, it would be. only if fate would be kind enough to give satoru to you again, maybe it will and it would be.

8:00 PM

satoru was all alone. his eyes were puffy from crying and stuff. he was such a mess. and if anyone would see, they would probably think that he's a zombie because of how low energy he was.

it took him almost an hour to stop crying. and you declared that this is the first and would be the last time that you would see him cry very hard.

right now, he was currently packing his things as he was about to move out tonight while playing betty by taylor swift. somehow, his mood got even more affected by this song, for every lyric hits him hard and he doesn't know why.

"♪ you heard the rumors from inez, you can't believe a word she says ♪" the radio sang. a shaky sigh came out from his mouth, he felt like crying again.

“♪ most times, but this time, it was true ♪”

"let me help you pack your things." you suddenly barge inside your onced shared bedroom after cleaning up for tonight. you are also in your sleep wear when satoru looks at you.

“♪ the worst thing that i ever did, was what i did to you ♪”

you didn't fail to notice that he is listening to one of your favorite artist's songs. a flashback hits you, it was the moment where you persuade him to listen to it with you. now, he has grown invested in their songs.

he mumbles a small okay as he watches you sit down beside him and redo the messy clothes he just stuffed inside his luggage. most of his clothes were luxurious like polo shirts, slacks pants, coats, and his favorite, blindfolds.

your eyes soften when you come across a small pouch that contains hair ties and bobby pins you onced bought for him as a prank. you still remembered the moment he let you tie his messy white locks with colorful pins and he looked so incredibly pretty with it. you couldn't help but to feel yourself getting emotional again.

don't cry. don't cry. don't cry.

meanwhile, satoru remained very quiet, for he was staring at the photo in his hand. it was your wedding photo where the both of you are wearing traditional japanese attire. he couldn't help but stare at your smiling face for too long. you looked so beautiful.

the wedding was very simple, but satoru describes it as one of his happiest days, and he is not lying to himself whenever he would say that. because he onced dreamed of getting married to you, and it came true. he also had the same state as you, both on the verge of crying.

"i wonder…would you get remarried someday?" he asked out of the sudden. you shifted your gaze to him and found him staring at your wedding photo. instantly, your eyes went soft.

"i am not sure." you replied silently as you closed his luggage and proceeded to the other one.

your hands momentarily stop working as you stare at them and watch it shake. "but if i do, it would probably take me a decade or so to find another husband to love." you said. but truth to be told, you had no motivation left to find another husband.

"you're twenty-two right now. so like…you'll be thirty plus by then when that happens," he calculated. "how about you? would you consider getting remarried also?" you asked him the same question.

he thinks for a moment before nodding slightly. "probably yes." your heart let out a wince but you tried your best to hide it. those words unintentionally hurt you and cut you deeper than a knife.

"w-well, i just wished good luck for both of us in the future." the crack in your voice didn't go unnoticed by satoru. he was about to reach you but then eventually dropped it. "me too…" was all he could say.

"anyway, do you mind if i ask…where are you staying after this?" you trailed off.

"i'll stay with higuruma for a day before moving out to my new apartment. speaking of that man, i told him to be here around midnight. so we still have four hours to be together." he answered

"...yeah."

10:00 PM

the two of you are sitting on the same seat just like this morning in the balcony. you are wearing your favorite cardigan as satoru was in his coat to fight the cold weather of the night.

all of his things were already packed and ready to leave. soon, you'll be alone and this house will not be lively as usual because his presence will be missed.

both of you refuse to say a word, yet. because you two are scared to have another breakdown that made this marriage even harder to break. especially satoru, he was aware that deep inside him he was not ready to let you go. he was just lying to himself because he is aware that he can heal if he gives himself some time.

"y/n, can i hold you here in my arms?" satoru swallowed all of the bitterness he felt for leaving you just to hold you again, for one last time. you slowly stood up from your and came towards in front of him.

your soon-to-be ex-husband gazes upon you. however, you refuse to meet those warm eyes that you loved the most. satoru slowly pulls you into his lap and cradles you like his greatest treasure, which you definitely is.

when your face hits his shoulder, you couldn't help but to hide your face deeper into his neck. "the place i'm going to stay afterwards is far from here. are you sure you will be okay?" he whispers in your ears.

"yeah, i'll be fine." you nodded solemnly. "i also planned to stop from my work for a while." you added.

"why?" satoru raises his eyebrow. he thought you loved your job as a barista. you enjoyed making coffee and wherever there's extra pastries left in the cafe, you would take it home for him to try it.

"don't worry, i had a lot of fortune that could last for a century. and besides, you even said i had a midas touch, so surviving won't be too hard for me." when your parents died, they left all of their fortune to you. so that makes you an instant millionaire and nobody knows that beside your husband.

satoru gently pushes you to meet his eyes. "i think this moment is perfect to give all of my secrets away. i don't need any perfect lies to hide from you anymore." he tucked the loose hair on the back of your ear, admiring your beautiful frame under the pale moonlight.

he gulped nervously, and for some reason, you're becoming very anxious about what he's going to tell. all you had to do was to wait for him to speak his thoughts out.

"the reason why i want to divorce is to have a new life and forget about the past. that includes you, y/n." though he only started, millions of knives already stabbed your poor heart. your eyes stared at him, a bit widely.

satoru couldn't bear to look at your pained expression, but he forced himself to look at you. so that you would feel his sincerity. "before suguru disappeared, he once told me to choose another path of life. he told me to run away from the jujutsu, run away from my life." he said, almost whispering.

"although, i want you to come with me. but…"

"i somehow got myself involved with the jujutsu too?" you continued it for him. satoru falls silent, so that means yes, it is true.

satoru cups your face. "i'm sorry, y/n. i really, really love you. but this is not the right path for us. you'll get more hurt if you continue to get tangled with me. so, after a lot of thinking and consideration…"

"i became selfish once again. i chose myself over you, y/n."

for the nth time, the walls you have been building around your emotional state are starting to shake once more. you could feel the hot tears building in your eyes.

you will not cry. you will not cry. you will not cry.

"i-i understand…although, you don't have to apologize for choosing what is the best for you. i'm actually glad that you're finally doing it." you plant your palms over his hands on your cheeks, closing your eyes to swallow up those annoying tears.

"i'm such a bad husband, aren't i?" satoru chuckles weakly. what has he done to deserve you like this? your understandment is something that he greatly admires in you. your heart is pure like an angel from above.

an angel like you can't fly down hell with him.

but god, you're making yourself willing to go down with him without any hesitation and that is just completely wrong.

and for the past years, satoru would make a mistake and you are there to correct him patiently. he would always tell himself to make something and make everything up for you. but who would have thought a divorce is the best thing to do?

"to be honest, not at all. remember what i told you before we got married? you are the fire and i'm the—"

"gasoline?"

"no silly, that's a song." your laugh brightens up the atmosphere. satoru smiled at your happy demure, he likes seeing you this joyful.

"you are the fire and i'm the fireman. a fireman would not function completely when there is no fire. meaning, why would i, a fireman, be here if there's no you, a fire." you raised your fingers to help you visualize your point.

"does that make sense to you?"

satoru shook his head. "no."

you snapped your finger. "exactly! you think i'm bad at explaining things, while i think of myself as great at explaining things. that's the same as you thinking you're a bad husband, while i think of you as a great husband."

"..."

"i made you speechless, meaning you agree and i'm great at philosophy!" you boosted yourself by imagining a crowd was giving you a round of applause.

your husband wonders for a moment before cackling a laugh. "that still didn't make sense to me but it brought a lot of comfort to me. thank you, y/n."

"come on! just admit you love my philosophical nonsense." you pouted, hitting his shoulder playfully.

satoru laughed once again, pulling you by waist as he buried his face in your hair. "of course i do. i love everything about you." and he would still do, always and forever.

"i'm going to miss this." you mumbled as you relaxed on his touch. satoru also agrees, kissing your head all over again.

"and i'm going to miss you too, a lot." he said sincerely. the two of you held the longest stare on this day. you just let yourselves drown with each other's enticing orbs.

satoru was the first one to break the record by sighing and rubbing his eyes. the truth is, he couldn't bear to look at you any longer because he could see how broken you looked through your eyes just because of him. instead, he hides his face once more on your neck.

“i'm really, really, really sorry, y/n. i'm so sorry for using you. i’m so sorry for cheating on you. i’m so sorry for hurting you. i'm so sorry for not choosing you again. i'm so sorry for being selfish. i'm so sorry for everything." there it is, again. his hot tears are back and now drenching your shoulder.

"i used you as a getaway from my sins and from the grief that day, y/n. you should've said no when i asked you to marry me, but why did you do the opposite?" his voice became slightly thicker, he's definitely frustrated.

"i did it for love, satoru." you answered without hesitation.

satoru momentarily stopped crying as his breath hitch. "yes, i'm already aware of your true intentions that day. but i still chose to marry you because i love you. i know it sounds so dumb but it's true." you continued.

you could feel his arms around your body tighten, scared of letting you go from nothing. it was like he was begging the gods, if there was one seeing the both of them right now, to let him be delusional and not take you away from him.

"let me ask you this time, do you regret marrying me?" you whispered.

your husband looked at you with unshed tears. "i don't. but i regret that this is the end of us."

why is it always the time where someone would tell their true feelings when everything is falling apart? so if this divorce wouldn't happen, does that mean his word would be forever kept inside him?

"i've always wanted to tell you that i was actually glad that you became my wife. i thought you would be my endgame. instead, you became the reason why i am still here and breathing."

the void of regret is slowly pulling him inside. but you are there to make sure that he would survive the gravitational pull. you just loved him so you will help to let you go.

"i love you, my sweetheart, my y/n, m-my wife..."

12:00 AM

it was quiet, really, really quiet. higuruma was looking at the two of you all over again. his eyes showed sympathy for both of you and he was sad because this is the end for you and satoru.

right now, both of you are staring blankly at the divorce paper on the table. no one was making a first move by signing it.

you let out a sigh, a heavy feeling was buried deep in your heart. your whole body feels so numb and you still haven't cried for today. everything feels so wrong, yet at the same time it feels right. you don't know what to do anymore.

as you recall your conversation with him, you just wished it didn't end and would continue forever. because you know you'll never get tired of hearing his voice, his laugh, and his philosophical nonsense too.

not to mention, you've also dreamed of building a family with him. a mini satoru and mini y/n sounds nice, doesn't it? as your eyes wandered across this apartment, you can depict your children with him running around. god, if you were dreaming, please don't wake up.

"higuruma, can you please just wait for me in the car…? i-i would like to have a final conversation with my wife." satoru suddenly spoke and nanami left without hesitation.

"so this is it?"

"yeah, t-this is the end." satoru chuckles breathlessly. there was like a big chuck on his throat that made him feel suffocating. truth to be told, he doesn't want this to be the end. but again, he has to.

"thank you for giving me a total of the best six years of my life, toru. i mean it, thank you." you counted the first four years of your relationship and the two years of your marriage. playing with your hands to mend the shakiness, it was a constant reminder that only a few minutes left before the surname satoru would be stripped of your name.

"thank you too, y/n. i also had so much fun and love these past six years. thank you for all of the things you have done for me." he said silently.

all this time, you are the only one looking at him because his eyes were focused on the paper in front of him. "good luck on your new path. i wish you the best." you intentionally called his attention.

"you're really staying here in this apartment…alone?" satoru asked you.

you let yourself smile slightly as you shifted into a more comfortable position. "yeah… just in case you feel homesick, this would be a reminder that you still have a home…only if you want to." the air in this room is very thick and it's suffocating you.

"t-thank you, y/n, really." he expressed his gratitude once again.

a nagging feeling tells you that satoru was about to go back on his decision at any minute. and you too would probably go back to your decisions you had set for both of you. it would be more devastating for you if satoru didn't achieve his plans for himself in the near future.

"let's not make higuruma wait."

satoru falls silent. now he was stuck in a madness of a dilemma. in short, he was starting to rethink his decision to the point that he didn't notice he was staining the divorce paper with tears. his hands began to shake violently along with his cries becoming louder any minute.

satoru finally lost his cool as he wailed loudly in front of you. the sound of his sobs made you clench your lip as your chest tightened once more.

you on the other hand, you're trying your best not to slip any tears down from your cheeks. you successfully stopped them from falling this morning, you couldn't afford to cry not because there's only a few minutes left before you would let yourself fall into a pit of sadness.

sensing that neither of you would make a move, you are aware that satoru couldn't bring himself to do it even though he had to. so, you gently steal the paper away from him.

divorce agreement…it read. oh how you despise those two words.

"satoru, i mentioned to you a while ago that the reason why i want to spend this last day as a married couple is because i want us to leave without holding any regrets." you started with your pen touching the paper. satoru's eyes widened, he wanted to stop you from doing it but nothing was coming out from his mouth.

"i can see it in your eyes, you're doubting your decisions." you continued as you wrote your name. in satoru's horror, only your signature is needed and everything would be over for him.

however, you stopped writing. you tapped the table to gather his attention to you. there he saw you smiling dearly at him.

"did you have fun spending time with me this whole day?" satoru knows your intention. you are encouraging him to do what he was supposed to do even if it means leaving you.

"yes…yes i do, i enjoyed being with you." he stuttered. the tears were still streaming down his face and he was using his sleeve to wipe it. you reached for the tissue and gave it to satoru as you watched him wiped his eyes and blow his nose.

"that's good to hear. i also had fun being with you. not only for this day, but the whole time i was with you, i enjoyed it." you grabbed his hands to soothe it by massaging those long and calloused fingers. satoru watches you and eventually becomes slightly calm by your actions.

you inched your lips into his fingers and kissed it delicately just like he used to do with you before. everything went blur to him and only the sound of your sweet nothing was audible into his messy world.

"i know you'll be doing great with or without me. so satoru, put more faith in yourself. this is another big step for us, and i want you to be ready just like i am." you swiftly slide the divorce paper in front of him. but this time, it has your signature on it.

satoru felt like he was being showered by the cold water as he stared at the paper with pure horror evident on his face. you finally did it, so there is no turning back now.

"h-how—when…! when did you sign it?" his voice cracked due to his frazzled emotions firing him repeatedly. satoru reaches the highest point of heartbreak he ever experienced in his life.

"when i gave you the tissue." you whispered weakly. to your dismay tears are only a slip away from your eyes a thousand times today.

"i don't want to sign it. i don't want to! i don't want to leave you anymore y/n!" he yelled. you accepted his lash out with open arms, but you can't do anything anymore. you finally signed the divorce settlement, and this paper wouldn't go if there's no signature of satoru.

you suddenly pull him into a passionate yet heartbroken kiss to shut him up. satoru eventually responds to your kiss, becoming more emotional than ever. while you are busy keeping him in company, you sneakily put the pen in his hand.

satoru felt an object in his palm, he knew you're telepathically telling him to sign the paper but he still refuses to acknowledge it, at least not yet. as he continues to devour your lips, his eyes are still producing salt tears that add more emotions in the atmosphere.

"i could see a bright future ahead of you, satoru." you muttered between the kisses.

"mhmp—you should grab it, please." you continued to deepen the kiss to lure him. but he voluntarily stepped away just to make a counter argument for that.

"but i could lose you if i do that." he whispers solemnly.

"we've already lost each other when we realized that everything was going too fast for both of us." you chuckled bitterly at your statement. "that it why it is time to face the consequences, by setting us free." you added.

"do…do you really want to do this?" he hiccups.

"this is what fate wants us to do." your voice is soothing as hell. it held no grudges nor resentment, just pure calm and adoration towards him.

but satoru still didn't bug and he still doesn't want to sign the papers.

your gaze never leaves him as satoru buries his face on his palm, weeping so quietly that you could almost hear a pin drop. it was getting so hard to watch so you looked away and slowly walked away.

"i am going out for a bit." you mumbled quietly, not waiting for him to reply or look as you walked away with your whole body shaking.

outside, there you saw higuruma leaning on his car exterior. "hey…" you greeted weakly. higuruma looked at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes.

"hey…how did it go?" higuruma asked, his gaze falling on the papers in your hands.

"emotional." you joked.

"so, that's the end now?"

"...yep, that's the end now."

silence engulfed both of you, just your almost steady breathings and his observing orbs burning through your skin.

"never thought satoru could cry harder than he did when geto-san…you know." higuruma said, sighing as he tucks his hands on his pockets.

you nodded. "i know. satoru lost suguru literally, while he only lost me through relationship. he'd become more vulnerable around me, and that scares the hell out of me."

"i, his weakness, has become more exposed to his enemies. i know sooner or later, they would swoon to get me just to make him fall on his knees. we don't want that to happen, i don't want to be a bait nor a cause of his downfall. temporarily or permanently, satoru must not fall, no, not anymore." you continued.

"y/n-san, i hope you would also realize that failures, downfalls, mistakes, and damages are unavoidable, gojo-kun is no exception to all of that." higuruma argues.

"satoru is going to live a good life and have a future that he deserves, so who am i to halt it?” you ignored what he said because you know he was right.

“this is a big step for both of you. i just wished that everything would go well for the two of you.” higuruma smiled at you.

“we will, eventually.” you return the smile and then excuse yourself to go back inside, just to see satoru still crying nonstop.

approaching his figure, you wrapped your arms around his body to console the man. “don't go back to me now, satoru. if you cannot bring yourself to let go, then i will help you.” you whispered into his hair.

satoru pulled away just to look at you with his teary eyes. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m really sorry.” he keeps on apologizing to you, while you just smile at him and wipe the tears in his eyes.

“it's alright, satoru. i already forgave you a long time ago.” you said.

“i can't sign it. i don't want to sign that anymore.” he confessed. a small form made its way to your temple” “but this is for both of us. don't you want to have a brand new start? how can we thrive when we both have shackles on our feet?”

“i-i thought everything was easy. i thought i could l-let you go that easily. but i was wrong. it's so hard to let go of us, y/n. and as much as i would like to do what i meant to do, it's just so hard to see us disappear from our now individual lives.” satoru buries his face on your stomach. your hands immediately made its way towards his hair as tears are threatening you once again.

“it's hard to let you go too, satoru. but it would be harder to see you suffer more when you're here with me.” it was getting late and satoru was still amidst the crisis, but you are determined to get him out of there.

“look at me, toru.” you cupped his cheeks and made him look at you. “you’ve still got a whole world to see. so don't you ever get worried about me because i’ll be more happy to see you free without any worries.

“go live a life that you weren't able to do when we were still kids. do what you always wanted to do.”

“and just so you know, i will always love you and you will always have a special place in my home.” you put his hand to your left chest where your heart lies. “here, satoru. you'll always be here.”

satoru pulled you into the tightest hug since it was literally the last and you wouldn't mind. reciprocating the hug, you finally smiled whole-heartedly and it even reached your eyes.

“whatever happens, i love you, y/n. i love you more than anything. i have loved you since the first time i saw you. and i will always love you even if this would be the last time i would see you.” throughout the six years that you two had been together, from boyfriend-girfriend relationship until to marriage—this was the very first time he declared his love to you with so much intensity.

your eyes nearly gave up on how long you've been trying to hold your tears. but you still swore that night that you'll never shed a tear unless satoru is out of the scene because you knew how much effect your crying causes him.

to hide your emotions, you pull him closer and share the last and passionate kiss as two persons who share the same surname are binded by the law. both of you could feel the emotions begin to overflow as things become more sensitive.

you were the first one to pull away as satoru was still crying. cradling his cheeks, you connected your foreheads together and said again, “let's not make higuruma wait any further.”

satoru knew it was time, time for him to finally sign the divorce paper that he's been planning for a month now.

he expected this one too just like you, so it shouldn't hurt, but why is his heart still aching? with a final stroke of his signature, satoru felt so empty. his soul feels like missing and something was taken away from him.

both have done it—a trial away and the marriage will no longer be valid. there would be no mr. and mrs. gojo now because both will live differently.

grabbing the paper with your shaky hands, you turn around at satoru and give him the final hug with a final kiss. “good luck on your new life, satoru. i’ll always cheer for you and support you until the end.”

“thank you so much, y/n. i really mean it.”

and with that, you and satoru shared the same sad smile you could utter at that moment. sure, this night will end bittersweet, but tomorrow is a brand new start.

you watched satoru walk solemnly towards the car. he looked like a ghost wandering around the vicinity without any will to search for the true paradise for him to rest. it really broke your heart that this is the end for both of you.

and with now fully signatured divorce paper on his hands, satoru felt that each step he took, he felt like fainting on the spot because of how devastating he felt.

but you cannot undo everything now. satoru had officially become your sweet memory and a stranger on the street at the same time. just as he was about to go inside the car, you called out for his name one last time.

your ex-husband looked at you with tired, red, and puffy eyes. you let yourself give the bestest smile you could offer at this moment. a smile entitled one last smile before saying a goodbye.

"if we found each other in another world, let me be your wife again!"

satoru's eyes glisten with tears once more. nevertheless, he also offers you the bestest smile he could manage. he is now letting his broken heart go out of your grasp. forcing himself to swallow and accept that in this lifetime, you are no longer his.

but if the two of you would be reborn or somewhere in the multiverse, he would pray that the two of you got the life you onced failed to build, and that was something he would wish for forever.

"of course! and i will choose you this time. we would make a family that we once dreamt of, and i will give you the honor to name our children." satoru yelled back, making your smile widen.

you could finally rest knowing that there would be a lifetime waiting for both of you somewhere in the future. and this time, you are not being delusional because you know it'll be going to happen and you'll make it happen.

"emi!"

"what?" satoru halted his steps to focus his attention on you.

"i want our first born daughter to be named emi." you've actually dreamed of having a child with him, in that dream, her name is emi. it was like a sign to you, so when you woke up, you immediately searched its meaning and found out that emi means blessed.

you are blessed.

both of you definitely feel blessed to have each other.

that being said, you have kept that name for a while now. sooner, you wished that name would be used with satoru's surname entangled to it.

because in this life, it was unfortunate not to use the name emi. you only want to use that name with him and only him. for you lived with him, loved him, and dreamed with him.

but patience is a virtue. you are willing to wait for that dream, for him. time is not a problem to you because you'd be fully patient just for him.

"have a safe journey, gojo satoru. i will be waiting for you in our next lives." you gently bow your head to send your wish for his safety.

with that, satoru enters the car without looking at you anymore. he was afraid that if he looked at you, he might find himself running back into your loving arms again.

"we'll be going now, y/n." higuruma rolled the window and waved a farewell to you.

you just nod at him while you watch the car slowly disappear from your eyesight. sad but true, you will be waking up all alone from now on 'till your thirties.

no more satoru to wake you up with cuddles. no more satoru who would make corny jokes randomly. no more satoru to who would always remind you that you have a husband. just no more satoru gojo—

drip…

a tear, followed by another, and another until it just flows uncontrollably. you are finally a crying-mess. you're letting yourself cry and let your emotions out by a shout of pain escaping out from your lips.

it was all over.

satoru chooses his life over you, and you choose satoru over your life. with your knees planted on the pavement, your hand travels towards your mouth to cover your loud painful sobs.

all of the tears that you had been keeping since this morning, finally had their freedom to flow at your cheeks along with anguish scream that came out of your broken heart.

you finally lost this time.

[a special chapter will be posted soon, so stay tuned and just comment if you want to be added on the taglist for this one — ©luvvixu2024]

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #anime #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #luvvixu #gojo satoru angst #satoru angst #angst #jjk angst #jjk gojo

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suzukiblu · 5 months ago

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WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; "Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!" (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Um,” he says. “I don’t know that one, I think. What was it on?”

Lynn shrugs. Billy thinks–well, at least Lynn told him about something he liked, so he can at least try to find it, he figures.

It takes him a slightly embarrassing amount of time to figure out Lynn is talking about literally the “no signal” screen with all the static, but in his defense he totally forgot that was even a thing and also, like, that is definitely not a show or anything. Though also Lynn didn’t actually call it a show, and either way Lynn wouldn’t know it wasn’t a show, probably, so . . . yeah, whoops.

Billy definitely should’ve figured that one out a couple minutes sooner, but at least he figured it out. He doesn’t get why Lynn wants to watch static, but since most dads have to sit through, like, Barney and Paw Patrol, he figures he’s getting off lucky. He hasn’t watched TV in a while, no, but he definitely remembers how much Paw Patrol sucked.

Ugh.

Lynn definitely likes the static either way, so it doesn’t really matter as long as he’s happy, Billy figures. Or, um–well, maybe not happy, really, ‘cuz he’s not sure he’s actually seen Lynn all that happy yet, but at least, like, content? Or like . . . mostly content?

. . . semi-content?

Billy really, really hopes Lynn at least isn’t unhappy to have gotten stuck with him. Which–like, if he does change his mind about staying, obviously they can figure something else out for him, but Billy just . . .

He really wants this to work out, and he really wants to take good care of Lynn, and just–like–

He really wants this to work out. He’d just–he’d feel really bad, if he couldn’t take care of Lynn right. That’s all.

Well–no. It’s a lot more things than just that.

The three of them eat in front of, uh, “No Signal”, and it tastes–really good, actually. Like–really good. It’s maybe that it’s been a little while since anybody cooked for him, at least kinda, but Billy feels . . . he feels sort of weird about how good it all tastes, and kind of keeps his eyes on his food for most of it. The static isn’t really something he wants to watch anyway, and he doesn’t wanna make Lynn feel like he’s getting stared at or anything.

It’s really, really good, though.

“This is so good, Lynn!” he says enthusiastically, beaming over at him, and Lynn–stiffens, briefly, and then stares blankly at him. Billy resists the urge to wince. Okay, uh . . . yeah. Maybe that was a little too much, or too loud or something. “Um–sorry, just–”

“It’s fine,” Lynn says stiffly, then tenses a little and looks down at his plate. Billy kinda hates that his own kid thinks interrupting him is gonna get him in, like, trouble, but he knows that’s just because Cadmus sucks. So it’s like–it’s something Lynn’s gonna need a minute to learn, probably, but yeah. Just one more thing, he figures.

“I really like it,” he says, scooping up another bite of the salmon and pretending to be oblivious to Lynn’s reaction to that. He thinks sometimes that’s just better to do with simple stuff, instead of making somebody feel like everybody thinks they’re messing up all the time. “I kinda thought the, um–glaze? I thought the stuff in the glaze sounded kinda weird to put together, honestly, but it’s really good.”

“. . . it’s balanced,” Lynn says, not lifting his eyes off his plate. His shoulders relax a little bit, though, so Billy thinks he probably did the right thing. Or at least a right thing, since he guesses there’s probably more than one “right” thing to–anyway. Not really the point.

“‘Balanced’?” he asks curiously. “Like it’s healthier, you mean? Like a balanced diet thing?”

“Um . . . no,” Lynn says. “It’s–brown sugar is sweet. Mustard’s–sour. Tangy. So it’s not too much of one or the other.”

“Oh!” Billy realizes in delight. “That’s so smart, Lynn! I wouldn’t’ve even thought about that.”

“. . .you don’t need to eat,” Lynn says, glancing guardedly at him. Billy shrugs.

“Yeah, but still,” he says. “I do, like–like to, when I can.”

“. . . you like to eat?” Lynn asks hesitantly. Billy doesn’t let himself get weird and complicated or think too much about it and just nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “And this tastes awesome. We should make a copy of the recipe to make again, if you and Tawky like it too.”

Lynn stares blankly at him while Tawky nods approvingly.

“You care if I like it,” Lynn says, less like a question and more like a weird, confusing little realization. Billy . . . well. He knows how that feels, so just smiles encouragingly at him.

“Yeah,” he says. “I mean, you need more food than us anyway, so actually it’s more important that you like it. Also, um, you’re my kid, so I want you to like it more than I wanna like it myself anyway.”

“. . . why,” Lynn says, which is a question, but doesn’t really sound all that different. They should maybe do a little talking practice when he’s feeling up to it, Billy notes to himself. Like, for intonation and stuff.

“You’re my kid,” he repeats reasonably. “Plus I already know what foods I like, and you still gotta figure out your favorites and stuff.”

“‘Favorites’,” Lynn repeats, and then, slower–“Because I’m your kid?”

“Yeah,” Billy agrees. Lynn does not look any less blank, which–right, Lynn really doesn’t know how this stuff works. Or–how it’s supposed to, anyway. “Um, because I’m taking care of you, yeah? Like–people who are taking care of you are supposed to care what you like and what your favorites are and all.”

Lynn looks blankly at him for another moment, then slants his eyes towards the TV.

“Is that why you put on No Signal?” he asks.

#billy batson #conner kent #captain marvel #shazam #superboy #young justice #young justice animated #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!#qwertynerd97

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getmeoutofhell · 11 months ago

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I’ve Been Waiting

w/: ethan landry

request: hi!!!! could you write a ethan landry x reader smut but like they’re enemies and having a very heated argument about something when he just wants to shut reader up and kisses her roughly after saying something like “god, just shut the fuck up already” or idk and they end up hate-fucking😭 really want the dom!ethan x sub!reader trope like with degrading and maybe some praising too🙏🏻😭 also tbh i really really like your writing you’re amazing

summary: sam sent ethan to your place to get her jacket she left. you hate ethan, but he doesn’t wanna hear it.

a/n: hey my love, ofc i will write this for you!! you’re so sweet.

warnings: smut, cussing, degrading, arguing & let me know if i missed something!!

“listen you fucker!!” you yell at ethan.

“who the hell you think you’re talking to y/n? you’re the one who started this whole thing in the first place.” if looks could kill, ethan would’ve been dead.

“ethan shut the fuck up. i said something to you first because you kept looking at me weird ever since you got here.” which was true, he did keep giving you looks ever since he came over. you had no idea why sam sent ethan over here to get her jacket. but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

you saw ethan roll his eyes like he always does before he spoke again. “oh my god you’re so damn dramatic. like jesus do you ever just sit and think about anything before you go off?” you would be damned if you sat here and let ethan talk to you like that.

even tho you were seated, as soon as he said that you stood back up. “what the fuck is wrong with you, huh?! you’ve never liked me in the first place so i have a right to question the way you act towards me. you’re the damn prob-“ before you could finish your sentence you were cut off with ethan smashing his lips into yours.

you were in shock, so you barley kissed back at first. ethan then pulled back.

“just shut the fuck up already.”

you didn’t have time for a reaction before ethan said something again. “i know what you want.” he said to you. even tho his kiss was nice, your anger still showed. so you put your hand on each of his shoulders to push him back away from you.

“don’t act like you didn’t want me to do that.” you only started at him in response. maybe he was right, but you’d never tell him that.

he then pulled you to your bedroom.

“you’re so pretty y/n.” he whispered to you as his fingers glazed over your delicate skin. you had no idea why you waited this late for him, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything right now.

“stop fucking taking.” you mumbled back. you softly moaned as he kissed up your neck. “you’ve been waiting for me to fuck you, huh?”

your no response gave it all away. as much as you’ll deny your love for him, it was clear as day that you had some type of feelings for ethan. his voice and nerdy personality drew you in the first time y’all spoke to each other. but your hate for him still showed.

his hands then went to the him of your pants. he started to tease and play with you.

“ethan, stop playing around and fuck me already.”

he smirked at you.

“be patient slut.” he spoke. you would be lying if you said his voice wasn’t making you more wet then you were already were.

you wanted to beg him please but stopped yourself before the words slipped out.

he looked at you with lust filled eyes as his hands pulled your panties to the side. god, he was beautiful. gorgeous eyes and lips. you wanted to reach up and kiss him, but didn’t.

his index finger started rubbing your clit in slow circles, gathering your wetness. you were slowly getting fed up and he noticed. smiling at you, ethan started going faster and adding another finger.

“is this what you wanted baby?” he asked you. you almost whined at his words, but before you could say anything you felt two of his fingers slide inside of you. your eyes closed as your head went back into the pillows below you.

“mm.” you moan slightly as his thick fingers slide in and out of you. it felt so good you couldn’t help but ask him to go faster, which he did.

“ethan, i’m gonna cum don’t stop.” you tell him. just as your about to orgasm he pulls out.

“ethan why did you stop?” you were angry, but not so much.

“i couldn’t waste a beautiful orgasm on my fingers. i need to feel you cum around me princess.” him saying that made your face feel hot, as you felt your pussy clench around nothing.

“whatever.”

not even 5 minutes later ethan is sliding inside of you. his hands on your hips as he stretches you out. you take a deep breath as he looks at you before looking between y’all’s bodies.

“fuck look at that pretty pussy taking me in.” you slightly smirk at his comment before his hand trails up to your throat, lightly squeezing. before you could say anything, his starts speeding up inside of you, causing you to moan loudly.

“fuck ethan! mm.” his face moves next to your ear as he whispers to you.

“how long have you been waiting for be to do this? you’re so wet.” he grunts in your ear before going deeper inside you. he felt so fucking good inside of you, skin on skin could be heard all around the room. you couldn’t help but moan his name once more as another orgasm started approaching.

you and ethan were both moaning and close to cumming. “can i…cum inside you baby? please.” he almost whines out at you.

“yes, please ethan.” not even a second later you feel him groan one last time as his hot cum fills you up. you clench around him one last time before you cum over him. his fingers rub your clit, helping you with a better orgasm.

your legs are shaking, and your struggling to catch your breath. ethan looks at you again, but you didn’t notice since your eyes were closed. his weren’t filled with lust, but with something else, love.

heyy!! i hoped you enjoyed!

masterlist!

#slashers #slashers x reader #ethan landry #slashers x y/n #ghostface x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you

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leth-writes · 9 months ago

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yandere Chrollo x reader

My requests are open!

Warnings: graphic discussions of violence and gore. 18+. Also, it does end in a weird place, if anyone wants me to continue, please ask!

summary: You can see ghosts. Chrollo is surrounded by them.

You weren’t quite sure when your powers first developed; but for as long as you could remember, they were there. You never could muster up the courage to tell anyone else. At first, you were sure you’d gone crazy, but as time progressed and the powers grew stronger, you knew it was the truth. That was worse, to you. If anyone, especially your parents, found out you could see the deceased, your freedom would disappear and you’d be forced into the television circuit. It wasn’t easy to hide them, to pretend not to see the screaming, sobbing apparitions that filtered through the haze of your periphery.

With experience, you’d come to sort your ghastly visitors into one of two camps; the angry, and the scared. The angry raged endlessly about their pain, shouting curses no one could hear in voices long-cracked from effort. Even you couldn’t make out what they were saying. They were the ones that often remained in their final forms, distorting their flesh until it made a new mask that melted their old identities away. Currently, one in a bowler hat and vintage suit with long, stringy, scraggly gray hair was stomping around in their slick dress-shoes, face bloated and skin sloughing off from their prolonged exposure to water. Everytime their mouth opened, their thick, purpled tongue lolled out, pushing through the distorted features that made up what used to be a face. Their eyes were glazed, making it hard to tell what they were looking at. You could see, where their shirt rid up during their particularly violent rampage, the blue-toned skin sagging and discolored. When they moved, they left wet footprints behind, which soon dissipated. He took a pause in his tirade to attempt to kick over a nearby trashcan, then tried harder as his soaked shoe passed through without so much as a wobble. Angry apparitions were usually able to interact only with you, which is what made them dangerous; particularly violence specimens were known to attempt to push you downstairs or pull at your hair, which is why you made every effort to ignore them as much as possible. If they realized they could touch you, you’d be the victim of their unending fire.

Even despite the harsh violence of the angry apparitions, you preferred them to the alternative; the scared ones. They still maintained their more humanoid appearance, unlike the angrier variant, and yet, they were all the more haunting. Scared ones tended to be the young, the old, and the tragic, sobbing and rocking and hugging themselves out of fear. They silently begged and pleaded for help, and yet there was nothing you could do for them. It was best to turn away, without giving them false hope.

You’d spent your whole life avoiding the ghosts, and yet you were never successful. Even worse was when you passed someone who had a specter clinging to them; mothers clinging to children who’d never known them, victims attempting to push their murderers, babies crying for their parents to no avail. It was hard, being unable to tell them just what happened to their loved one, being unable to lie about their baby finding peace. You couldn’t even try to help the victims, because no police officer would take “they told me” as evidence in a murder trial.

So, you moved on. You learned to turn away, to act as though you saw nothing. It was easier that way, though you knew others wouldn’t view it that way. So, you quieted down about your ability, moved away from anyone who knew you when you were younger, and picked up a job at a cleaning company that allowed you to avoid any interaction in your daily life. Your work at the cleaning company took you all over YorkNew, allowing you to prevent putting down roots during your longer jobs. It was just easier not to get attached, because you knew you’d eventually slip up when a more personal face joined your eternal entourage. Clara, the receptionist, was nice enough, and you didn’t mind getting preferential treatment in job assignments.

“Hello, Happy Home Cleaners, how can I help you?” Clara flicked her long honey blond hair over her shoulder, clicking her long pink nails against the aging keyboard. You leant against the chipped blue counter, watching absently as she typed in the information for a new client. Seeing the name pop up, you perked up. Seems like it was an all-hands-on-deck job for the opera house, which was having a giant auction. You knew it would be entertaining, and the tips from rich clients were always better. Clara set the phone down with a ‘clack’, finishing the assignment’s log before looking up and catching you watching. Clara was a middle-aged woman, short and chubby, with pale and pink-flushed skin and hazel eyes. She was sweet and kind, like an older sister or a motherly figure you’d never had, and you weren’t too upset about the lunches she’d taken to picking you when she realized you’d usually forget to eat.

“What’re you thinking?” She asked, leaning on her hand.

“I know the opera house’ll be a big job, but I’m excited for all those tips, and maybe I’ll get to see the items and watch the auction… I always liked watching rich people blow all their money on useless crap.” You drawled. She laughed, looking startled by your candor. “I knew you’d say that, and before you ask, I’ve already added you as priority for the assignment. You’ll get your chance to heckle to uber-wealthy, just wait.” she smiled, then turned away as the phone rang again.

Later on that week, you were on your way to the job at the opera house. You couldn’t wait to get inside, but as you peered out the dusty window of the van, you were in awe at the sheer size of the building. It had large, glimmering windows lining the entire building. Spotlights on the ground floor roved over the exterior of the building, briefly illuminating the windows and sending reflections glimmering all over. There were police all over, which seemed off to you, but you guessed the uber-wealthy were paranoid as is, so you put the concern aside. As you stepped out, you looked around, wide-eyed and gawping. The entryway was grand, with red carpet lining the walkway, armored guards in sleek black suits bracketing the entrance, a large red overhand, and gold railing enclosing the area. The entrance had glass doors lined with swirling silver motifs, sliding open as you walked through with a gust of air conditioning.

The inside of the building was even more grand, with plush gold carpeting and ceilings so high you couldn’t see the roof. The light was strong and yellowed, casting a warm light over the various staff scurrying around. A tall, slim man in a black suit with a large, hooked nose and pale, grayish skin pulled taut over sharp cheekbones, his narrowed black eyes flashing before widening into a false calm, stepped forward. He towered over you and your colleagues, hands clasped behind his back as he looked down his long nose at you. “You’re the staff?” he questioned. As your supervisor stepped forward to address him, he turned and began speed-walking away. Your supervisor turned, baffled, to look at you before gesturing wildly to keep up with the thin man, who was turning a corner.

The man led your small group through a door and into the bowels of the building. The ceilings were noticeably lower and gold carpets morphed into grey and cracked concrete, lining the walls with various old pipes and service doors. The lights were harsher, putting the slim man into an even paler state as he speed walked down the long hall, footsteps clacking and echoing against the concrete and pipes. Finally, after what felt like hours, he opened another metal door into the staff’s area. It was a more moderate area, brown wooden plank floors with dark walls, red velvet carpets marking the area where the stage began. “This area is where the items will be stored and brought out for auction. It needs to be cleaned, as well as the stage and the seating areas. I expect it to be properly done, or you will not be paid. If you are spotted, act professionally. Any chatting will result in you being immediately fired. You are not here to chat, you are here to work so that people worth more than you can enjoy the spoils of their hard work. It’s enough that you are even allowed to be spotted; normally, that would be grounds for immediate termination and blacklisting. Be grateful I’m being lenient.” and with that, the man whipped around and marched off, leaving your supervisor in the dust. Your supervisor, Jason, faced you, baffled, before he regained his composure. “Alright guys, split up and get to work, I guess…” he mumbled, scratching his head. Wanting to avoid another interaction with the tall man, you moved out from behind the curtains and began working on the thick boards of the stage.

By the end of your shift, you were exhausted, arms feeling like noodles, but satisfied. You’d made great work on the stage, and you’d probably be able to begin working on the main room the next day. Determined, you exited the building, surrounded by coworkers. As you walked out, you spotted movement out of the corner of your eye. A short, chubby man with a bald head and bulging red eyes was talking quietly to the guards, but what caught your eyes were the plethora of ghosts surrounding him. The majority were angry; you focused on a thin man, face unrecognizable with blood and bits of flesh and bone splattered everywhere, exposing the violently red inside of his face where the skin had been peeled away, was gesturing violently, getting in the face of the short man. The apparition didn’t have eyes, but you could imagine they would be boring into the face of the shorter man. Evidently, that short man had wronged him in some way, and if he was the type of man to do something like that, you wanted nothing to do with him. Now frightened, washing away your previous confidence, you scurried along to the van, climbing in without a backwards glance.whoever that was, you hoped you would be able to avoid him.

The next day, the opera house was busier, swarming with staff scrambling to make final preparations. You returned to your work from the day before, prepping the main area with your coworker to prep it for the auction that would be taking place in only a couple of hours. You were excited; it was the only thing you had to look forward to all week, unable to normally see any fun entertainment due to your unusual schedule. You all worked quickly and efficiently, quietly finishing up any last-minute patch jobs before leaving the room to do some busywork backstage. You spotted the thin, tall man with the narrowed eyes, and he quickly waved it over. “You, you’re efficient and quiet. Go downstairs and welcome the guests. Our greeter called in sick. If you mess up and offend anyone, you’ll be more than fired. Go.” he barely glanced at you as he spoke, pushing you forward. “But I'm a cleaner! I can’t-” “don’t care. Go, or you don’t get paid.” you grumbled, finally stopping grabbing your feet and moving forward of your own volition.

You entered the grand entryway again, observing the swarms of people filtering in. The thin man directed you to the base of the escalators. “Just tell people where they need to go. I don’t care what else you do, just don’t mess it up or it’s your head on the line.” he snapped, before power walking away toward another group of servers. You floundered for a second, staring vacantly into the massive crowd. It was only then you noticed the suffocating haze of the undead, crowded and overlapping as they struggled to stay near the person they were grappling toward and attempting to attack. The entire crowd was full of murderers, and that was only possible if the crowd was full of mobsters. Suddenly, you realized why the police were so present, why the thin man was so short; it was a mobster’s auction, and you were right in the middle of it. You stood ramrod straight, shaking hands gesturing for the approaching men and their corresponding apparitions to make their way up the escalator toward the main hall.

You stood there for the better part of an hour before the crowd thinned enough to make your way back to the main hall. By the time the large doors came into view, the guards were standing outside, arms crossed. “No entry,” the one on the left said shortly, gesturing for you to stay back. “But I'm staff! I’m supposed to be inside with the rest of my team!” you cried, exasperated. “Too bad. It’s too late for entry. You can go hang out in the lobby and wait for the rest of your team if it’s so important to you. Now get going, before I escort you out.” turning around with a huff, you barely avoided stomping away to the main lobby.

You’d been loitering in the lobby for close to an hour when you first heard the screams. Your head whipped up in time to catch the armed guards rushing through and thundering up the escalator. Worried, you chased after them, taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to keep up. “What’s happening?” you cried, frantically trying to see into the main auction hall. “They’re… gone?” a guard said, puzzled. “What do you mean, gone?!” his supervisor said, lowering his visor. “How does a room of people just disappear?” you hopped up, attempting to catch a glimpse of the inside, before whipping around and vomiting. What had once been a beautiful, if empty, room, had now been entirely swarmed by apparitions, wandering about confused. They were riddled with bullets, some so much that you couldn’t tell what part was which, crawling along and moaning silently in agony. Ghastly blood was streaked everywhere and limbs were strewn about, torn off front the force of the bullets. None of that was too bad, you’d even seen worse earlier that night, but what truly made you sick was the sight of Jason, frantically attempting to reattach his severed leg. His other limbs were completely misshapen and bent out of place, bone shifting under thin, blood soaked skin and poking out underneath shredded bits of pink muscle. The bone was shock-white, shattered and bent, and coated in viscera and sinew, and his arm was bent completely backward, causing him to drag along, attempting to reach out to you- and it was too much. You couldn’t handle it. Uncaring of the guards questioning your sudden shock, you raced out of the hall, dashing down the escalators and tearing toward the van. You hopped in, banging your palms against the steering wheel and breaking down crying. You’d never hated your curse more than when it let you catch one last glimpse of someone you’d lost.

You called the main office. No one picked up. Seemed they’d already been informed. Deciding to head home, you dropped the van off. Entering your dingy apartment, you dropped your coat off on the floor and slid off your shoes. You stumbled toward your room, flinging the door open and quickly changing into your comfiest sweater and a pair of ratty shorts. You plugged your phone in, wandering out toward your kitchen and grabbed a bowl. Pouring your favorite off brand cereal into the bowl and grabbing a spoon, you plopped down on your old grey couch, flicking on the news.

“In other news, a massive police response has been mounted after hundreds of people went missing at the YorkNew opera house, and with no new leads any witnesses are asked to come forward and contact YorkNew police with any leads or information.” A tall, thin news anchor began, her short clipped brown hair perfectly coiffed and styled away from her face. Studio lights glared down, illuminating her orangey makeup as she gestured to her co-anchor. Her co-anchor picked up, gesturing to a photo of the opera house.

“While there is footage of the crowd entering the room, security feeds cut soon after. The artifacts present for today’s auction have also been reported stolen, leading police to believe it was a botched robbery. There are no suspects at this time, though rumors abound that the mysterious Phantom Troupe may have been involved.” He finished, looking at his co-anchor.

“The Phantom Troupe, well-known urban legend, are a group of mysterious thieves known to leave no witnesses in their wake. Theorists believe that the troupe, known for their spider tattoos, may simply erase any footage of themselves. Others argue they may have a supernatural ability allowing them to prevent being seen. And yet, this case is similar to other rumored Phantom Troupe cases, each with similar characteristics; a famous artifact missing and entire rooms of witnesses vanished. Police have not released any information about this potential tie.”

The Phantom Troupe? You’d never heard of them. You almost scoffed at the idea, before quickly reminding yourself that you too had a seemingly unexplainable ability. Was it so hard to believe that some with similar abilities decided to use them for more nefarious purposes? COmpletely unsettled, you changed the channel to a mindless comedy, letting yourself relax as you snacked.

You were called back in the next day. You found yourself surrounded by fresh employees, the only remaining cleaner left from the vanishing, as it had been labeled. The new employees, older women with a penchant for gossip, had immediately swarmed, asking countless questions about your role and what you’d seen. You’d shut it down quick, snapping that you didn’t want to hear about your dead colleagues, and they’d gone sheet-white and wandered away. You found yourself up in the bar, drinking copious amounts of vodka to get the thought of the bodies out of your head. Predictably, you’d not lasted a minute in the main auction hall before you had to run out. The new supervisor suggested you take the edge off, so you were ordering another drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a young girl with bright blue spiked ponytails, bouncing along in her bright white silky dress and sandals. You turned around, unwilling to be reminded of the young colleagues you’d lost.

You hopped down from your stool, sighing and setting a generous tip down for the bartender. You made your way to the elevator, avoiding glancing back at the loud laughter of the blue-haired girl. You wondered how she could be so happy in a building where hundreds had died violently, but you guessed she didn’t know the full truth. Well, you didn’t need to be worried about her. She’d be fine, especially if she could afford to be at the auction.

Your shift dragged along, ignoring the gossiping ladies took more effort than you expected, but you didn’t have much mental bandwidth to worry. You finally finished cleaning the stage area, but the auction was set to start and the formerly-stolen, now found, artifacts were being brought in, contained in bulky wooden crates. Yet, shouting suddenly broke out, and you raced out into the hall outside of the auction room. The young blue-haired girl was slumped over, but what caught your attention was…

You’d never seen so much damage. Countless apparitions flooded the hall, all angry, all screaming and writhing in pain. Your eyes zeroed in on a young boy in traditional white robes, eye sockets leaking bright red tears against his ghastly white face; his eyes were gone, scratch marks dug into the soft skin surrounding his sockets, and the gaping holes locked onto his mother, whose eyes, unlike her son’s, were leaking out of her sockets. They looked almost like scrambled eggs, popped and flat, and her face had turned purple from her anger as she screamed. Another man, one in a ratty, hole-filled suit, had a bright purple face and his tongue hanging out, his neck bent at an unnatural angle and the bone popping through the skin as though his head had been forced downward. Crowds of people, dozens with their eyes missing or popped, and hundreds with bent necks or half their face caved in or missing limbs, all surrounding one man. The man, it took you a second to identify him through the crowd, was holding onto the blue-haired girl and shouting at a guard, who looked shocked. It was too much for you. A feeling like an icy bucket of water being dumped on you hit, then a hot flash, and your hearing went as your ears rang. Then, you were on the ground, blinking your eyes open and rubbing your head. The blue-haired girl was gone, and the man, you could see his choppy black hair, complemented by his stark white skin and a plush white cloth covering his forehead, was staring at you. He didn’t seem scared, or confused, just… amused. Another bolt of fear ran through your body.

A guard was fast approaching. Your head snapped up, breaking the eye contact with the man and his field of bodies. “I-I’m okay. I’m fine. I just- I just need to go, I’m gonna go.” You forced out, jumping to your feet and backing away. “Are you-” the guard began. “No, I’m okay. It’s fine.” You whirled around and speed walked away. “Ma’am.” A smooth voice broke through your panic, and you felt a hand grasp your upper arm. You tried to shake it off, but the grip was concrete. You snapped back around, glaring at the man. His face was partially obscured by an apparition phasing through, burned skin peeling and exposing dark, cracked muscle. You gasped lowly, and the man’s eyebrows ticked up. “Are you alright? You look like you’re going to be sick… Do you need to take a seat?” He began to pull, gently guiding you toward a room. “No. No, I don’t need to… please let go!” Your voice cracked as it raised half an octave. Once again, the man’s eyebrows ticked up, and he let go of your arm.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere hxh #lethwrites

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brittle-doughie · 2 months ago

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Y/N!Daydreamer Cookie's list of most to least liked beast cookies:

1. Eternal Sugar Cookie: The clouds are so, so comfortable, plus it's always great to share sweet dreams alongside other cookie.

2. Shadow Milk Cookie: His stories are great and he knows how to get me entertained. My powers also start to manifest at best whenever I am on his stage, because I always feel like part of story. He does seem to be amused by my powers, but at the same time I feel like he is bit irritated whenever I fell asleep, even if he doesn't show it, maybe because I don't follow his "script"?

3. Mystic Flour Cookie: "May you rest for now, someday you get the true peace greater than deepest slumber as you become one with flour" That's what she says to me whenever I fell asleep, it's a... Bit weird, but she doesn't mind... Or even care? That I fell asleep in weird places.

4. Silent Salt Cookie: He is silent. But that's all, I wish he could be more talkative and tell me more stories of his.

5. Burning Spice Cookie: Noisy... Very noisy, because of constant destruction he makes and even his yelling... I can't fall asleep at all.

That's when they got winners! Eternal Sugar was standing on the first place, Shadow Milk on second and Mystic Flour on third. Meanwhile Silent Salt and Burning Spice are lost much to the irritation, Eternal Sugar was holding a prize on which was written "Y/N Cookie's favourite cookie", Shadow Milk Cookie was looking pissed off, meanwhile Mystic Flour looking apathetic as usual, as there was no meaning in victory or defeat... At least that's what she says so.

Shadow Milk Cookie looking at Eternal Sugar: You...! Why did you win?! I basically did all the hard work! I build scenes, made decorations, sew clothes...! And you...! You did nothing but sleeping!

Eternal Sugar looks at Shadow Milk, then at the rest of beasts, she looked stoic at first, then smirked: Pff! Bunch of losers.

At this point, beasts became furious, they glared at Eternal Sugar before attacking her, Eternal Sugar was flying away with a prize.

The ES glazing is real.

#brittle answers

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missmimii · 10 months ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 ☆彡 | 𝐌 - 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨��𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In which Matt has one wish for his birthday

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. None!

♡︎－ ℳ𝒾𝓂𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓈 － Happy birthday to my favourite boy in the whole entire world (short Drabble）

Matt’s nose glimmers with a soft glow of candle light, the warm hue glowing into his blue eyes as he nips at his bottom lip. Twenty one. It seemed fake, impossible that he had really grown up so damn fast. A gentle hand kneaded the back on his neck with affection, curling the hairs at the base of his neck around her finger as he let out a sigh. That also seemed fake, her.

“Make’ a wish, baby?” She spoke, Matt’s eyes flicking upward to hers. Beautiful. Hair’s framed her jaw so sweetly, a smile on her kissable lips as she tilted her head down at him with a nurturing expression. With a little shake of the head, Matt flicked his gaze back to the candle lit cake. Ice cream slowly melted off the sides, dribbling onto the cardboard underneath as he waited his wish out. “Think of something you really love, hm?” Something he really loved?

Matt slowly lifted his gaze, eyes sliding across the table, realizing all he could ever want was around him. Marylou cheesed at him from across the table, hand in hand with Matt’s father’s as the two gazed at their son with such pride. Nick had a lazy smile on his lips as he leaned back in his chair, Chris’s head resting on the eldest triplet’s shoulder, a smear of buttercream frosting on the tip of his nose from when he blew out the candles to his cake. Nick couldn’t help himself.

Then her, Matt tipped his jaw up and met eyes with her. Butterflies fluttered in his belly as she brought a hand to his cheek, cupping the right side of his jaw delicately, thumb circling the soft skin as she hummed ever so softly. “Make a wish.” She murmured, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on his forehead before pulling away. And he did, a warm aroma of frosting and his girlfriend’s perfume engulfing his nostrils as he leaned forward.

Pursing his lips for a moment, just before Matt’s eyes lulled shut as he blew out a light stream of air. Woosh, fire flowed off into a gusts of smoke, a comforting burning smell flooding his nose as he felt his shoulders fall. Claps were shared around the table, bubbly praises as Matt felt his lips twitch. My wish. Heart heavy with warmth as he brought a hand to his chest, pressing his palm into the fabric of his T-shirt as he concealed emotions that were far too sad to show. “Good job, baby.” The girl chuckled, the sound a beautiful melody to Matt’s ears.

As Jimmy leaned an arm across the table, everyone’s voice taking over the couples ears as Matt threaded a hand through his brown locks sheepishly. He felt .. weird. Though the attention wasn’t necessarily on him, he could actually feel the warmth and presence of everyone’s love. For him. A gentle weight was placed on his shoulder as he looked up, her hand on the boy’s shoulder as she laughed, looking around and talking to his family.

The room was dark apart from a soft illumination of a tea candle that sat aside the cake, the same cake he mentioned months prior to the special day that was his. She remembered. “Hey,” snapping from his daze, the girl glimpsed at him with concern. “what’s wrong?” Baby.

Cooing lightly, a hand lifted to brush his hair back as he stood upright from his seat. “Nothing, nothing－I’m fine.” Matt breathed out, leaning into her touch as his eyes fluttered shut. The girl watched as his eyelashes fell against the skin of his cheeks, resting his head on her open hand as she got impossibly closer to the perfectly emotional triplet. He was hers. “Then why are you crying?” A lone tear trickled down from the corner of his eyes, the blue abyss’s glazed over with wetness as he allowed them to escape.

“I’m not.” He mumbles, sniffing as he brushed his knuckles across the wetness under his eye. Laughing softly, both hands cupped his cheeks in a gentle manner. “No?” The girl mused, Matt letting out a little laugh at her tone, sniffling, “M’just happy.” So fucking happy.

Humming, she pecked his nose once. “Why the tears then?” She murmured against the now pink skin, resting her forehead against his as the two gazed into each other’s eyes. Matt brought a hand to her neck, gripping the side gently as he rubbed the soft dewy skin with adoration. “Just’ feel lucky.” He uttered, seeing her eyes glitter with shyness as he leaned in, littering kisses and nips to the side of her neck. “So fuckin’ lucky.” Matt mumbled in between pecks, voice coming out hushed.

Taglist! － @fratbrochrisgf f@jetaimevous s @sturnstvr @sturniolosarethebest @stonermattsgf@imwetforyourmom @st7rnioioss @endereies @pkfferoo @mqttittude @mattsbrowser

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #writers on tumblr #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #fanfiction #fanfic #i love you #happpy birthday #baby

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phantomphangphucker · 19 days ago

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Phic Phight - Little Miss Hoity-Toity And Her Drag’ Of A Time

For: @armed-with-knitting-needles and Library_Of_Cronos

Paulina has always known she was special, because of course she’s special, she’s Paulina Sanchez. Though, this is, like, totally not the kind of special she’s supposed to be, you know? As in, it’s veering into freak category and Paulina does not do freak. Anyway, she’s gonna make that freak Danny kid explain freak stuff to her, since he obviously knows about that stuff.

If there was one thing Paulina wasn’t used to, it was having issues, having a problem. After all she was perfect, gorgeous looks, dainty pretty voice, luscious hair, flawless style, stunning teal eyes and a perfect jawline. Even her teeth and skin shone with beauty. The biggest issue she ever had, was ever supposed to have, was slightly dry lips when her favourite lip glaze ran out or the store not having something in her size.

She even had that last issue recently, until it fixed itself of course, as it should have. Hmpf.

But now she has a different issue, an issue issue. All thanks to this stupid weird town. Stupid weird glowy dragon thing messing things up on her. Messing her up.

She’s still not really sure what happened with all that weirdness. All she knows is she agreed to go to the dance with that weirdo loser to piss off the geek goth freak, then there’s a dragon, like, an actual fantasy dragon in the bathroom. Well first there was that shirt they sold out on and she got, like, super mad; then she got her shirt anyway. She’s still a little confused about that but guess she’s just so wonderfully lucky.

And after the blue dragon she woke up in the football field of all places? Why would she be there when she’s not cheering? And then Dash tried weakly hitting on her. Ugh, boys were so sad and desperate. Fun and annoying.

Leaning in towards her mirror slightly as she taps on her lip glaze, she got the new cherry honey drip shade today! Capping the bottle, wiggling her mouth, and sticking out her tongue. If she, like, pushed? or wiggled maybe? her tongues insides or something? it would suddenly be forked! and glowy green! It was gross and freaky and she didn’t like it.

That wasn’t even all of it! Things tasted… stronger? with it? And her teeth could be all pointy and sharp! Like a cats! Cats were adorable, and she absolutely made fangs actually look cute unlike the goth freak, but it was super freaky. And Paulina didn’t do freaky.

Pulling her tongue back in and moving to put in her earrings, tracking the shape of her ear to make extra extra sure it wasn’t pointed. The super strong hearing was neat, great for gossip! But pointy ears were so not in style, at least if they did suddenly point on her, her hair would hide them. Just in case she’ll add a bit of volumizer to her hair. The shimmering glowy blue nails, sharp like claws, she could give herself were really pretty though, even if she did almost cut her hair with them one time. That had been so terrifying. Her hands became actual claws if she pushed too hard though and that wasn’t pretty. At least she knew what to do to keep her eyes from glowing green and slitting! Do not get angry. She’s really positive so that’s super easy! But she also can’t get annoyed, which was waaaaaaay harder. So many things were, like, really annoying. A boy not knowing his place by not fawning over her. Teachers giving dumb class work when a concert was going on that she totally had a cute outfit picked out for already. Dash and his weird obsession thingy with beating up the freaky Fenton boy. Lillian stealing all her good hair ties last week. Sooooooo many things to be annoyed by, it was a struggle, truly.

But the green eye thing gives her some kinda hint on what to do, or more so who to make fix it for her.

The weird spooky kid who got messed up by his parents freaky science-y stuff. Danny. His eyes got all glowy green too whenever he got annoyed or mad or excited or, like, emotional at all really. It annoyed her a little that it did really suit his skin, if he wasn’t such a freaky loser she’d even call it cute. And fine, it was part of why she said yes to him for that dance. Ugh.

Point is, he had weird freaky powers and now so did she. But she doesn’t know why. Her parents aren’t weird crazy scientist inventor people, with a weird crazy portal thingy in their basement for her to trip into; that boy was such a klutz. All that she knows is that she met a dragon creature, passed out because dragon obvi, and now she seems slightly… dragon? It’s like the dragon infected her or something! Was It, like, a were-dragon or something? Sooooo weird.

Patting her cheeks to increase her natural blush a little, “whelp, I’m going to make it that freaks problem”, and getting up, flipping one side of her hair over her shoulder. Whether he wanted to help her or not didn’t matter, of course he would want to, obviously. She was Paulina, after all.

It’s hardly hard to find the boy, totally expected, he’s by his locker with the creepy geek and freaky goth. Those two weirdos are arguing with each other again as if he’s not even there. She, frankly, has no clue why he even hangs out with them. If they were popular, or rich, or hot, she’d get it but no, they are not. She’d rather have no friends than be friends with those two. Ew. Extra ew with creepy geeky one. At least with the goth she can respect her slightly for wearing designer clothing, even if the designs were super icky, and for being a strong willed girl. But her personality was so ugly, and the vegan dirt eating thing? Ew ew ew.

Anyways, she saunters right up to the three, one had on a hip and the other grabbing Danny’s ear. Smiling sweetly, “I’m borrowing you for a minute, ‘kay?”, and drags him off by the ear before anyone can even consider denying her. Since she knows the goth totally would, ugh. That freaky witch was so weirdly possessive. It was not flattering, and couldn’t be good for her skin; not that her skin was good to begin with, with how gross and sickly pale she was. She never seems to have pimples though, so that was something she guesses.

Oh whatever. Not Paulina’s issue.

She pulls the boy into the girl’s washroom, making him a flushing embarrassed mess immediately. Gosh that was such an easy way to throw a stupid boy off their game, almost sad really. Then again, the girl’s washroom was obviously cleaner and smelled nice.

“Er, uh, ah, Paul- Paulina, uh, what… what are you, um, doing?”.

Oh she really hopes he doesn’t drop his pants again. Sure his boxers were actually clean unlike most guys but still, she so doesn��t need to see that any more than she already has.

Running a hand through her hair and batting her eyelashes a little, trying to make him just that little bit weak in the knees (she had absolutely heard him say that happens to him around pretty girls. Aka not Sam).

Crossing her arms, “okay look, you’re, like, totally a freak and all-”. He looks slightly annoyed but still totally nervous so wahtevs. “-but, like, that’s kinda what I wanted you for? So, you know, it’s cool right now”, and purses her lips cutely at him.

He blinks, flushing a little and rubbing his neck, “it’s… cool?”.

She hums and nods a little, faintly smirking, “uh huh. Dios mio, definitely”. It’s not. Definitely not. Pouting at him a little, in that way she does when she’s coaxing Dash or Kwan into doing something for her by pretending to just be a little damsel, “especially ‘cause we, like, totally have that in common, and I’d, totally, like pointers or whatevs. So got any tips for a girl?”.

He scrunches up his eyebrows at her like he doesn’t get it, surely he can’t be that dense right? That’d be so sad. Then he… surprises her? It’s, like, she doesn’t know, like his whole posture changes? Like he’s ‘at attention’, like what her father does sometimes when someone’s making him angry or telling him something suuuuuupeeer important. Weird. So weird. His back’s straight and she can just tell his hands are only relaxed because he, like, is forcing them to be? Weird…. and kinda cute? Nope! Not thinking about that! His face is firm and jaw set, voice is… gentle but stern? He’s weirding her out a little actually. Only older hot boys acted like that??? “What do you mean exactly?”.

She twirls a bit of her hair with her finger, feeling… kind of… awkward and weird now? He was acting older than her and she doesn’t know what to do with that okay?! She never knew quite how to act around her army cousin either! Biting her lip, “um, well”, oh whatever! She uses her fingers to push her upper lip up, making her teeth sharper, she wasn’t about to stick her tongue out at him, what was she five??? And then holds her hands up, finger nails towards him, and pushes? them to make them, like, claws again. Took her soooooo looooonnngg to figure out how to really do that. Super annoying. Like, really. This should not be her problem.

He blinks and loses a bit of that weird tough boy edge, which she’s honestly thankful for. What is she supposed to do with that kind of behaviour from a boy who’s supposed to be at least a few months younger than her??? Dios mio. He steps forwards and moves his hands towards hers, looking at her face, “do you care if I, freaky Fenton, touch them?”.

If she did she wouldn’t be showing him! Hmpf! “Obviously not”, sticking her nose up in the air, “that’s why we’re in here”.

He shrugs like he doesn’t really care before just grabbing her finger claw things. It… feels very weird because they have scales! Like a lizard! Ew. And the claw parts have no give like nails do. So weird. She could really do without all of this. Ugh. She’ll actually consider being, like, actually nice to him if he can fix this. She huffs at him but doesn’t stop him from looking her claw things over like he’s a doctor or something.

Right don’t those whacko parents of his technically have, like, doctor degree things? Weird. And his sister was scary smart, and not, like, geek nerdy loser smart, but, like, rocket scientist veterinarian smart. Future rich I-built-my-own-fortune smart. She totally respected that. And her hair was a really pretty shade of orange, she totally got Dash’s little crush on the girl.

He’s still eyeing her claws, “how long have you been able to do this?”.

She puffs her cheeks out cutely a little, “I don’t know, like, sometime after that dance with the totally weird dragon in the bathroom?”.

He cringes his entire face, it is supremely unattractive, he should never do that again. Her scowling daintily at him, “do you want wrinkles, don’t do that to your poor face. Ew”.

He blushes furiously again, good. Turning his head to the side and coughing awkwardly, “uh, wrinkles aren’t really a problem for me”, glancing around a little before giving her a small nervous borderline adorable puppy look, “you know, weird spooky powers and all”.

Wait! So this weird dragon thing might cure her from ever having wrinkles!!! Putting her hands- claws to her face, careful not to cut herself, “oh mi god, are you saying I’ll never have wrinkles”, putting a hand to her forehead and dramatically feigning fainting, “I’ve changed my mind, this is very cute”. Scales over wrinkles one hundred percent! Especially because she could make the scales go away!

He actually chuckles a little, clearly amused by her, not that she’s going to complain about that… in private at least. Or, well, mostly private anyways. “I’m not making promises, but eh?”, he shrugs, “you probably? Won’t? Have wrinkles? But-”, he scrunches up his eyebrows again, “-is the claws and teeth all? Nothing, you know, more extreme and stuff, uh, no, er, reason or anything though, but like yeah…”.

Oh man this boy so could not hide nerves. She can’t help but giggle at him meanly with one hand over her mouth, eyes crinkling lightly, before shaking her head and dropping her hands, “no. My eyes are doing that, you know, green thingy yours do all the time, especially when you’re around Dash”, smirking faintly, “but with, like, slitting like cats do? And my tongue can fork”, moving her fingers up to one ear, “and my ears can get all pointy, hearings, like, super good now though”.

“And that’s it?”.

Oh she hopes it is! Puffing out her cheeks at him again, hand claws going to her hips and leaning at him slightly, “it better be!”. Gee how freaky was Fenton??? Not that she blames him for keeping what he could to himself, totally gets that.

He tilts his head at her, hums, and then has the guts to actually ask, “can I touch your chest quickly?”. Her making a point to raise an extremely judgy eyebrow, what kind of boy asks that! He goes very red, good!, and stumbles over his words, “I- what shit, fuck, uh. Crap”, turning away and gesturing exaggeratedly at the wall, “not in a weird creepy Tuck way-”. Oh good, he knows that boy is super gross, at least he’s not that dumb. “-I mean in a more, If I can touch your chest I can, like, feel- oh shit that sounds way worse”, he bends over and wheezes, “I swear it is not creepy”, straightening up really quickly, “I sorta have a whole ass ‘nother organ normal people don’t and it’s in my chest and I can tell by touch if you have that too and if you do then you’re way weirder than just what you described so can I check?”.

She blinks at him, that was, like, so many words to take in, wow. Blinking again and crossing her arms, “fine. But you better watch those hands and you tell no one”.

He holds both his hands up, “yup okay obviously not gonna tell a soul”, swallowing, “not like that would make me look good either you know”. She rolls her eyes and doesn’t move when he moves his hand to put a few fingers on her chest, just a bit under the collar bone at least. It’s weird. It’s awkward. If anyone comes in here her reputation is going to need so much damage control. Ugh… Unless it was Star, Star would never hurt her like that. Star was great.

…

It’s really uncomfortable him just standing there, fingers on her chest, and staring at his own fingers. Quirking an eyebrow at the freaky boy, “well?”.

He jumps, like he’d completely forgotten she was even here, how rude and unbelievable. No one should be forgetting Paulina! Especially when they were touching her! Hmpf! This boy! “Oh, um, right. Just give me a second, I’ve only been this way for like a year at best okay? I’m not some expert who can tell in a few seconds”. She rolls her eyes at him a little.

Her pouting a little, “alright fine, I get it”, giving a cutesy sigh, “just hurry up”.

“Yeah yeah yeah, let me concentrate”.

So bossy! Ugh. Though she guesses he’s less sad and weird like this. Well… more weird but a better kind of weird. Whatever. He smiles and nods to himself after a couple more seconds or something, taking his fingers off of her quickly, “well you’re not just like me, so that’s, I dunno, probably a good thing?”, shrugging, “eh”, looking up at the ceiling and tapping his chin, “what I think happened is you got basically infected? I guess? by that ghost dragon from the dance, with ghost dragon ecto”.

“That was a ghost dragon!”. Was that worse or better??? Blinking and tilting her head slightly, “so ghosts are, like, totally real? Your whacko parents aren’t crazy?”.

Danny snorts, chuckling, “yeah. Hence me calling my spooky powers, ‘spooky’”, waving a hand around, “mine are more, uh, general? than the dragon thing you seem to have going on”.

Meaning she’s special, good. She should be special. She doesn’t like how ‘infected’ sounds though… “I’m not going to, like, die right?”.

“Naw. It’s been a while, if you were going to keel over you would have by now, and you don’t have a core so not kinda dead either”.

Okay she feels like she’s losing him a little here, maybe he actually was smart? And not in the loser kinda way? Weird. Pouting a little, “is it just going to go away then? Or?”.

He scratches his head, totally looking confused, “honestly? Uh, no clue? But if it hasn’t gotten worse or better by now then no? Um, probably not?”, giving her a silly dumb little thumbs up that is oh so very awkward, “so congrats on dragon stuff? I don’t know I just vibe with my weird shit”, dropping his hands, frowning a little, and shaking his head, “honestly? with all the ghost shit that’s happened in the past few months, if it can rub off or whatever like this then you’re probably going to be the first of many who are slightly spooky”.

Oh great, so this was gonna be, like, an everybody problem. Meaning she’s simply ahead of the curb, the first one on trend as always. Still though, this isn’t really a trend she wants to be, like, legit proudly rocking, “well keep this to yourself, I do not want me being sorta dragon, or whatever to be school gossip until I decide it’s cool”; because once Paulina Sanchez decides something’s cool, it’s cool.

“So long as you don’t go telling people I have extra organs, people give me enough shit as it is”.

… Wow did he always swear this much? Oh whatevs she probably would too if she was stuck with his freaky family and loser friends. Sighing at him, “fine. Now how do I get this stuff to stop just, like, doing its own thing?”.

And he actually laughs at her in the mean way, like the kinda laugh she’d expect to hear from Val or Brittany, “ha! If you figure that one out tell me”, tilting his head at her, “why do you think I keep loosing my freaking pants? Or getting stuck in walls? Or dropping crap? This shits a fucking pain in the ass”.

She blinks, “you know, swearing is so not cute”. Sure as a boy he could get away with it more but still. But she’s so glad this is just giving her claws and teeth and stuff, and not, like, making her pants fall off. She could never return to school again.

He flushes, like he just remembered who he was talking to. “Er, sorry?”, shaking his head, “anyway, if you wanna be sure sure, you’d have to, well, let my parents check you out. Honestly? Don’t recommend”, he glares, not at her but, like, the air? Wow he is so easy to distract, easier than most boys. “Telling them was definitely the worst choice I coulda made. Zero outta ten, one hundred percent regrets”.

So… so she is not getting a ‘check up’ from Danny’s whacko freakazoid parents. She’s heard more than a few rumours of them being actually dangerous and harming their kid, super messed up; that’s one of the reasons she doesn’t really bother him about his crazy parents. Bugging people because their parents are mean to them is never cool.

“Oh and don’t let the ghosts find out”, him grinning a bit manically, one of his fangs even sparkling or whatever, “other wise they’ll hunt you for sport”.

Okay normally Paulina isn’t one to care about the lower class or the losers and geeks and nerds and weirdos and whatnot, but like, this sounds pretty not great and might hurt her or something? “Wow your life sucks”, shaking her head and poking him one on the forehead, she didn’t come here for him to, like, trauma dump, “I’m def not telling your crazy ‘rents. Nevar gonna happen. And why would I tell some freaky ghost? Ew”.

“Uh, good? Plus I could, legit, just steal their stuff and scan you myself”, then adding in a rush, “or give it to you to use on yourself after I explain how the dumb things work, heh”, him swallowing, “as for control? Just practice with however it works for you? The eyes are lost cause, so… breathing exercises?”, and tilts his head innocently, “and don’t be too surprised if you have new tastes or instincts and stuff? Considering dragon you’ll probably just like meat more maybe, I don’t know”. Well that seems okay? She so totally wasn’t going to be weird about it like that creepy geek kid was, ew.

Ugh, he really isn’t that much help, but it’s something she guesses. As per usual she’s the most reliable one. “I’ll allow you to use whatever thing on me, I’m above that sort of thing. I guess you weren’t nearly that useful to me, Naco”. He couldn’t fix it, didn’t have any, like, tips on it, and now she has to worry about his whack job parents or ghosts finding out. But at least she might never get wrinkles! And she wasn’t, like, dying or something.

He rubs his neck, “ah sorry?”, then jumps a little, almost startling her, his face lighting up a bit, somehow getting paler all over, “oh! Yeah that dragon that, I guess, dragoned you? She’s a ghost princess so”.

Oh but of course, if Paulina was going to get strange dragon powers they would be from royalty. It was only proper. Smirking and sticking her nose up in the air, “I would expect nothing less”. If anyone in this dumb town was going to get something from royalty, it should be and deserved to be her and only her.

He finger snaps and finger guns at her, earning him a disgusted scowl. Like, really? He was such a freaky dork. Him wincing, “right, totally not friends, cool”.

She scowls a little more, not enough to risk wrinkles but still, “absolutely not”. Even if they had this… ‘thing’ in common, that meant absolutely nothing in her opinion, and her opinion was the one that mattered. Huffing and using one hand to wave him off, at least she had her hand back to her perfect normal manicured nails, “you can go now. If I want to talk about this, I will, don’t even think about coming up to me about it”.

He… actually rolls his eyes at her, hmpf how dare he! “Yeah, sure, Paulina”, sighing and moving to walk to the door, looking back at her, “just, actually let me know if you do have, you know, issues? There’s literally no one else who could possibly help you, if you do. My parents are nutz, but they’re also geniuses. And I have no issue lying to, stealing from, or sneaking around them”, then the door opens and he’s gone; her catching a glimpse of him running a hand through his hair and laughing in, like, a cocky amused way?

That exit was… like totally cool actually? Danny Fenton was the last person she expected any amount of aura farming from what the??? Shaking her head and moving to the counter, to check her make up obviously. Sure she also puts that sort of… pressure to her eyes to make them slit and glow green, tilting her head, it’s weird but… yup it totally does suit her; especially if she’s matching with an actual princess. Sharp defined angular face and sharp defined eyes, it’s a look. Not one she’ll be rocking around anyone though, like, ew no nevar. Blinking her eyes back to normal and turning to head out herself, it’s been long enough that no one’s going to think she was doing anything with the freak Fenton boy. Even if her opinion of him went up slightly, that would only mean anything if she actually bothered to mention it to anyone. Which she won’t, like, duh. If that silly naco wants to ‘climb the social ladder’ then he at least needs to dump those ‘friends’ of his. Like, absolute necessity. Especially the creepy techno geek.

Up date the clothing next, obviously. Maybe if he leaned into that tough side of him she caught a glimpse of? With the fangs and piercing blue eyes and pale skin that could totally work for him. Perhaps, if she does figure out a handy tip or two she might deign to tell him. That way if he ever does climb out of the social hole he’s in, she’ll already have something on him.

End.

Prompts: Post "Parental Bonding," Paulina retains a small fraction of her dragon powers. Everyone knows Danny has ghost powers. No one (or only the people who know in the show) knows he's Phantom

#danny phantom #phandom #fanfic #phic phight #danny fenton #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #paulina sanchez #gothmoth #everyone knows danny has powers #dragon paulina #phic phight 2025

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bayeis · 5 months ago

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I've joked about it in the tags a lot but I've decided to sit down and actually compile a list on why I'm only half joking when I say my job is conditioning me to be the next Jonathan Sims

The Buried: A lot of my job involves putting people in small confined spaces, often with no windows and and a single, locked door. We frequently have people with claustrophobia that realize agreeing to be locked in a small space means being locked in a small space. 9.9/10 times they are peer pressured into doing it anyway, and have a miserable time

The Corruption:

The Building is rotting. There is no nice way to put this. The walls are slick with mold and soft to the touch, the ceiling drips despite us being on the ground floor of a two story building, the carpets squish with unknown water, and yet people's eyes just glaze past it. Our landlord for the building is a thick accent russian man who, for the past 4 years I've worked here, has changed his name on the emails several times, despite it undoubtedly being the same man, who I have met in the flesh twice before. The first time was to come into the building, shake my hand, and leave. The second time was to ask me to bring him upstairs (not apart of our business but we still have the key for some reason), which I did, and then have not seen him since. Speaking of upstairs, the handful of times I've been there it's just. Bizarre. An entirely furnished office space, completely abandoned. There's everything from paintings on the walls to files still in the cabinets and scattered across desks. I could not tell you what the office space used to be, or whatever the employees that worked there used to do, but I do know it was officially, genuinely abandoned because it was deemed unsafe to be in, from the sheer amount mold and rot. How it is somehow safe for us to work directly below with leaking ceilings I have no idea. I've occasionally had to dart up there with our key to snag a pair of scissors off one of the desks or some other office supply we can't locate in our own half, though I always disinfect them the second I bring them downstairs, and always wear a mask when I'm up there. There's also the bugs. I am so genuinely serious when I say one day I swept the lobby of our building and discovered the shelled corpses of around 300 dead superworms. Like the kind you would feed a pet lizard. I have no idea why they were there, how they got there, or anything. I just swept them up and disposed of them as my coworker watched in horror. Weird worm sightings aside, the building is frequently swarmed both in and outside with bugs, despite weekly exterminator visits. The stairwell to the second floor (located outside) spends about half the year covered in what has to be hundreds if not thousands of moth caterpillars and cocoons. Walking in that back porch area is near impossible as you cannot look anywhere without seeing the walls, floors, stairs, doors all bumpy and withering with the sheer amount of caterpillars (of the not so friendly verity as well. They feel like shattered glass to the touch and will frequently leave a rash). My old manager once found one in her ear. There. Are. Bugs. Everywhere.

The Dark:

Fairly self explanatory. The building gets zero light. The lobby has full glass doors, and walls of windows facing multiple directions but no matter how many blinds you open or what time of day it is you'll find your eyes slightly straining in the just slightly too dim setting. It's never bright enough. When we can get our lights to work (frequently blow out, and when they are attempted to be replaced we find that nearly every light fixture required a different kind of special bulb, meaning that to fix it requires hunting down that kind of random bulb, which will be different from all the others. An effort frequently left undone, dotting the building with random spots of shadows) they don't really help, not because they aren't bright enough, but because the building was designed with weird corners, so all the light the fixtures could be potentially giving, is almost immediately blocked out with odd shaped walls and randomized corners. Some rooms just don't have windows to even attempt to sap out some of the sunlight. The room the employees are made to sit in (about an 8ft by 8ft room) for the majority has no overhead lights, no windows, and like the rest of the building, the walls are painted solid black to sap any remaining light out. The only way you can see in there is from the glow of the monitors and two dim lamps shoved in opposite corners. We get complaints from customers that it's too dark and they can't see well, and we've tried everything to fix it, a desperate combination of lamps LEDs, and fairy lights, but no matter how hard we try, how many blinds we throw open, it's never bright enough.

The Eye:

Remember that employee room I mentioned with the monitors? Workers are instructed to sit in the room (control room) and watch their designated cameras. This is not a security job. Off the top of my head, our (relatively small building floor) has about 30 cameras. There is no where in the building you can be that doesn't have a camera. Even the control room has a camera so we can watch the employees watching people. Some of the cameras are on (all the cameras are always on, with the only way to shut them off being to physically rip them from the walls) but we have yet to find out how to access their feed. The cameras like to frequently switch, in that I mean their security codes, IPs, and registration numbers will jump and switch with each other to no rhyme or reason. When that happens I have to grab the notebook dedicated to writing down whatever this weeks IP numbers are and attempt to metaphorically shove the cameras back into place. We are not a security job, but we are, if you didn't know or guess, an escape room. The entire job, as I previously mentioned, is to sit and watch people freak out through the cameras. Everywhere a guest turns if they look up, there is a camera. Every word they say is recorded and logged. Every action they take is carefully judged. All while a worker sits in a completely dark room, all day, watching their designated cameras intently. I think, for the sheer inherentness of what this business does and advertises, we are the most closely working with the eye. I am one of the managers now, and there are even cameras pointed and trained at where I sit, even thought there shouldn't be anyone to watch them.

The Lonely:

This one applies less to our customers and more to the poor employees. This job is soul crushing. You can go an entire shift, sitting alone in a small dark room, watching people have fun, as you silently observe. I have thankfully graduated out of the control room into front desk, and yet I can go entire days not seeing a soul, watching people chattering as they enter and exit our neighboring buildings through windows that never seem to catch the sun. The "employee area" where we are supposed to be able to hang out in between games isn't really built for socializing. It has been overcrowded and shoved with chairs, so many fucking chairs, that it becomes near intimidating to try and navigate. The most use the room sees is when an employee shoves some of them together and takes a nap, because there is nothing to do. It's not like the employees don't like each other either, we all get along wonderfully for the most part, as well as coworkers relatively around the same age can (helps that we're all queer too), but once you're halfway through a shift, and absolutely nothing of interest has happened you start to drift. A typical lull between games (which can stretch for days in the off season) will usually result in me sitting alone at front desk, answering an occasional ghost call that hangs up immediately when I answer it, an employee sitting in the back area, surrounded by empty chairs facing the graveyard where we write old employees names, and another employee choosing to nest down in the control room, in the dark surrounded by monitors reflecting myself and the other worker being alone, angles scattered across the dozens of cameras. Even when we are busy, there's almost no time to socialize. I still sit alone at a front desk made for two, mindlessly checking people in with no altercation to the script, and the game hosts focus on their game, crammed into the control room with several other game hosts, all willingly silent as they watch whatever designated family they have through their cameras.

The Spiral:

Again, we are an escape room. The whole appeal is to present ourselves as confusing as possible. From room layouts, to our hallways, to the way the building wraps and twists, dumping people out at one door, opposite of where they just entered from, it is designed to drive people crazy. Honestly we don't help either. For our own entertainment, game hosts are particularly obtuse and confusing, partially because we don't want you to get out too early and partially because we have been watching the exact same thing over and over and over and it's starting to drive us a little crazy. People always do the exact same thing in the rooms, there's very little variation from the jokes made the to ideas brought forward. So if the game host wants to keep a little sanity, it's up to them to reek havoc on their game in hopes of startling out a new response, which, if one does occur, gets snapped up and thrown around the control room to the other employees for a slice of entertainment like a sliver of meat thrown to a starving pack of dogs.

The Stranger:

The doll room. Not a traditional "the stranger" kind of presentation, but gives that same prickling unnerving feeling.

In the exact center of the building layout there is a tiny room that is decked in as many old porcelain dolls as possible, all strung up from their necks and twisting around gently in non existent wind. Walking past the only physical door into the enclosed room, you'll usually hear the door rattling in it's frame, or one of the dolls knocking against the door. The room has no vents, no fans, no overhead lights. It's only light source is two red light bulbs, and the room was custom built by our owners. And like, I get it. It's an escape room. There's a creepy room. 1 + 1 equals 2. I cannot even being to describe the feeling this room gives or brings. Almost every time there is a group in there, one person in the group will become more unnerved then the rest, because one of the dozen of dolls looks uncomfortably similar to a doll they or a family member had as a child. The doll will sway on it's string noose as the cameras pick up the trickle of "doesn't that one look just like grandmas doll?" "this one kinda looks like my Betsy doesn't it?" with a chorus of agreements and half given glances, as the rest of the group gets absorbed with the next puzzle, and the single member who brought it up stares, and eventually leaves the room, typically not reentering the rest of the game. It is the strangest thing to watch (no pun intended). Occasionally, the similarity is met with delight, but more often then not it just seems to unnerve. The doll room also shares a wall with the control room, which means nothing, but is occasionally fun to kick.

The Web:

There's the obvious ones, our rooms are meant to trap people, the game hosts jobs besides watching the cameras is to manipulate the line of thinking the customers have, ect, ect. The most unnatural thing to note here isn't the standard workings of an escape room however, but the sheer vast amount of spiders in this goddamn building. I have never seen so many spiders in my life. We can't shake them. From how disgustingly rotted our building is at this point I think the spiderwebs are one of the only things keeping our building together. Again, we have an exterminator come by every single week both in and out of the building. The spiders refuse to let up, every day is a constant battle of knocking down their webs only to turn around and see they've put several more up. We've all but given up on trying to get them out of the employee only areas and now focus our war to the battle grounds of where customers can see to only mild success. This isn't even a regional or habitat thing, no other building I have lived or stayed in in this town has ever even come close to touching the spider infestation happening here.

In terms of other entities such as the Hunt, Slaughter, and Desolation, I can think of a handful of things that might align my job and them, but nothing solid enough that's worth mentioning. There has not yet been anything that reminds me of the End, Vast, or Extinction.

Other things to note,

Quitting is weird? People do, don't worry it's not a genuine hostage situation, but once they leave they are very rarely every sighted by coworkers again. I don't just mean not visiting the building, I mean like going completely off the grid and moving states if not in some cases countries. The entire time this business has been open and operable I've been the longest standing employee, at a record 4 years of the 7 it's been open. I could not name a single employee that has ever truly quit and has been easy to contact again by anyone. If you are able to, it's usually polite conversation with any mention of how you know each other (meeting at the job) being laughed and shut down quickly. No one whose left this place wants to talk about it and I get it, believe me. When we get an influx of summer employees to help with the rush the heat brings, I'm no longer allowed to help train because I would try warn the employees to pace themselves so they didn't experience Game Host Death too early (what we call when a game hosts snaps, having watched the same thing over and over and eventually loosing their mind over it, resulting in crying when told they have to run a game, weird twitching/manic-esque break downs, or in some memorable cases, game hosts just walking out in the middle of hosting a game). This is incredibly ironic considering the majority of employees have admitted the only reason they stick around is because they like working with me but I'm not here to toot my horn. There's also a large collection of employees who are neither employeed nor not, who have moved an hour or so away and have gotten a different, closer, better paying, and enjoyable job, and yet inexplicable will show up once in a blue moon asking for a shift at the escape room for no other reason then they felt compelled to. Typically anyone whose worked here for more then a season falls in this category. Currently we have four official employees for the off season (including myself) and yet if I count this stragglers who all genuinely hate this job (also including myself) our employee numbers easily go over 20. I cannot even imagine what the owners taxes look like for that (all paychecks and stubs are handled by a women who I have only ever emailed and never met). The owners themselves actually don't even live in the same state as us, and we are not apart of a chain. This is the only escape room they own. They're main business? Sheep farming. Which actually, that might be the slaughter right there. Despite working for them for so long, the amount of times I have met them can be counted on one hand. They are completely uninvolved, this business is no mans land. I've thought about quitting multiple times, even briefly lived in another city states away, and yet still found myself back, inexplicably every time I think about leaving again a nice little bonus or raise hits my paycheck, a system I can't really complain about. As for the other managers, I've outlasted several. The only way I have ever seen anyone on the management team leave is to have the biggest mental breakdown known to man and disappear. That's literally it. I've watched it happen so many times. The only employee that came close to being here as long as me was my original manager, who, a couple of months before she left, started loosing her mind, twitchy, paranoid, at her wits end. She isolated and locked herself in one of the rooms for about a month, only emerging at the end of the shift. I tried to approach her once about it and she shaved her head as a panic response. This fucking job, it was choking her from the inside out. Eventually she couldn't handle it and left, effective almost immediately. In the span of a month I watched several new managers cycle in and out, from the women who would sit behind me and silently cry, to a previous employee who realized the jail cell of a role she was being forced into an dipped before the owners could lock the door on her. The current manager is the ex fiancee of the women who locked herself in a room for a month. The horrors are a cycle fr

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kelperine · 9 days ago

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I just saw thunderbolts and I have many thoughts

Spoilers ahead ‼️‼️‼️

1. Taskmaster dying was so pointless and honestly kind of disgusting. I tried seeing if it’s was an actor issue but apparently the writers took her out to show that “the stakes are high and anyone can die” which is a convoluted way to say nothing because we know none of the other team members are dying through cast leaks and plot armor. It rubs me the wrong way that a movie centered around character redemption threw out the girl who went through the same mercenary pain as them and got not sufficing redemption in black widow or thunderbolts. Rip Taskmaster you are special to me and I would never have done that to you. We lost a girlie today 💔

2. I liked Ghost alot in the ant man movies and honestly forgot as her character became quickly irrelevant because let’s be real ant man is no one’s favorite series. She didn’t do much in this movie, no one seemed to really connect with her and holy shit what was that bulky ahh suit 😭 I’d kill to have the white suit back from her first appearance, that was so cool. Also every move she made got fucking countered immediately. If your character can be countered by a jbl speaker blaring fetty wap then maybe she’s not a great addition to the team.

3. I thought the Bob/Yelena/Walker camaraderie was pretty solid, they all had good banter and seemed to genuinely care about each other. I don’t want to glaze Walker but I liked seeing the small ways he showed affection like shifting from calling him Bob to Bobby, and even picking the fruit for Yelena and Ghost. Hell he even took that one hit for Bucky and hauled his ass back to the elevator. I’m not sure why he was suddenly a team player but it was nice to see. That being said we lacked a whole group connection, obviously Walker cared for Ghost but Ghost didn’t seem to connect with anyone else, nor did Bucky really talk past his circle of Walker, or Alexei with his circle of Yelena. I would have liked to see a better full team moment like the Avengers shawarma scene. Everyone was pretty solid by themselves but I don’t really think of them as a group, just people who have their person if that makes sense.

4. I was going to complain that Bucky wasn’t in the movie enough because he’s my favorite and I saw it just to see him on the big screen. I was originally worried that he was going to be put through mcu hell again after his redemption in tfatws but I honestly think it was smart to distance himself from the thunderbolts team. It gives everyone else a chance in the spotlight because Bucky has already overcome his trauma and serves as a sign that they can too. I always kept him in mind during the void episodes knowing that reliving hydra must have been awful, but he’s at a point right now where he was able to blow it off and even joke to the others by remarking sarcastically that his past was great. I love seeing him in a place of healing <3 That being said I know my boy is struggling being in a team where 2 people are a stark reminder of Steve rogers. Like If I was in a team where two people looked like my dead boyfriend id throw hands every second, walker and alexei I would be out for blood 💀 Not to mention Sam who is very much captain American but it probably still hurts Bucky to see that red white and blue even when the proper person displays it.

5. You are telling me there is arguing in my sambucky household?? Marvel don’t piss me off. My one little Sam Wilson mention is Bucky arguing with him about some avengers bullshit?? Marvel I am going to run these ones. I was expecting a little call at the end like “honey you won’t believe the day I’ve had” NOT A DIVORCE.

6. Sentry was a bit confusing, he felt like a weird character to add in the timeline right now in that way that he’s pretty similar to Adam Warlock. He felt like a weird combination of Warlock x Homelander if that makes sense lol. Towards the end the movie started to feel like The Boys lmao, I thought Valentina was about to become the head of Vought and had to remember what universe we were in. Don’t get me wrong I love Bob and I part of me hates that I’m buying into the “lol so random XD name” kind of character but he was pretty chill, I know my boy is gonna love Johnny Storm just wait.

7. Where is Yelena’s Guinea pig?? I was hoping to see him in the back of the tower with a fancy set up but alas… Outside of showing the fact that Yelena doesn’t lack humanity through her rescuing if it, it is also a symbol of what they’ve all been through as Guinea pigs are commonly test subjects. I know it’s right on the nose but I think it’s still a nice touch

8. The end credit “avengers” suits were so fucking ugly ima be real 💀 Bucky what are u wearing go find a Henley

9. Fight could have been over in ten minutes if Walker and Bob kissed 🤷‍♂️ Fellas is it gay to slam a man against a wall and stare lovingly into his eyes?? Walker, first Lemar and now this? Buddy I cant defend you. Also you can’t tell me Bob and Yelena wouldn’t be the most fire lavender couple you’ve ever seen. If u want Bob u gotta go through Yelena and Walker, that’s their bbg 😤

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theghoulboysblog · 2 months ago

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tell me things you love about ryan bergara :)

awww i love this question so much anon :))) thank you thank you!!! sorry i took so long to answer. i’ve been a little overwhelmed with school and stuff. i’m gonna name my top five cause otherwise we’d be here FOREVER haha:

1. he’s so gentle. i think that’s my favorite thing about him. he truly is a soft, sweet, gentle guy, and i think that gets overlooked because he is also bratty frat boy coded 😔 but two things can be true!!!

like, there’s something about watching him smell flowers and pet horses and birdwatch so happily that just makes me think “wow. this is such a gentle man with a big heart who loves beauty and nature and life.” no wonder he’s best friends with shane ‘gentle giant’ madej. they really are one and the same! :)

(also him proposing with a strawberry ring box in a field? his constant softness with animals? him calling fireworks “flowers in the sky.” like shane was so right when he said Ryan has really a lovely heart like why don’t we talk about how gentle and sweet he is?!?)

2. this kinda goes with the first one but he’s so loving and comforting. like everyone always talks about the times where shane comforts ryan which makes me SO HAPPY but also like… ryan comforts shane too! :( it is so precious watching videos where ryan is comforting shane or praising him.

like when shane was drunk and yelling and then got embarrassed and apologized to ry and ryan said, “it’s fine dude :) no need to get self conscious, you just get excited sometimes :)” then soothed him with a little physical touch like omg it always makes me so happy :)

or his little “omg, dude :) you’re doing great, bud! :)” to shane on a ghost hunt when shane was finding flies and was really happy. that literally plays over in my mind. like what a sweet guy. i love him. just best buds doing best bud things :)

3. he’s so little guy coded. i know he’s actually like 5’9 so he’s a little taller than me (5’7), but even when i saw him in person he was exactly as small as you’d think 😭 all the girls on stage were his height and it was actually so funny like 😭 understand this is not an insult at all. it makes him so attractive and cute and less intimidating to me. like i understand why shane will sometimes just hug him out of nowhere cause i mean he’s literally just!!! ☹️💛🌸🌸

4. he’s so funny. like some of the shit he says is so top tier bro. not even glaze he’s just peak 🙏

like holy fuck i really did place this brick seven years ago and yk what?!? hell yeah!

5. he’s so pretty. i mean. just look at him. nothing else to say like 😭🙏

AHHH IM LITERALLY GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IM TRYING TO BE SO NORMAL BUT HES LITERALLY JUST SO COOL TO ME. IDK.

but anyways thank you for prompting me to be weird and parasocial about this guy! much appreciated!!!! :) much love to ya!!!

#aly answers #hahaha i almost put this in the main tag #what a mess that would’ve been!!!#ryan bergara i love you #my own personal ryan bergara tag that i love sm :)#hahaha thank you anon sorry for the wait!!

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clocainiac · 7 days ago

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That was amazing, thank you! Do you think you could also do a revival 2024 version? Pretty please and thank you!

i’m going to assume this is for electra and the components for the wembley version so that’s what i’m writing because i’m definitely not biased at all and i love all electra’s and their components a totally normal, sane amount… (and look at those gorgeous creatures in their natural habitat) AND once again i got some help from @dove-bunny-love, who is literally my no.1 fan!

ELECTRONENTS!REVIVAL X READER

- WARNING: Nothing is explicitly NSFW in this post but cuddles and kisses ensue, and there’s implied sexual content, if this makes you uncomfortable i’m sorry but i’m sure there’s other posts of mine you will enjoy! ALSO this is a bit more out there then the one I wrote for the other Electronents let’s say, it’s much more… freaky. ALSO ALSO Electra goes by they/them!

- The first thing you noticed when talking to Electra was that they used their hands, A LOT. It seemed instead of expressing using their face, their hands were how they communicated. I guess that’s why you were drawn to them so quickly, even if the more likely answer was because of their magnetism which you couldn’t deny was a strong force.

- Always hovering near them was Killerwatt, the security truck who was short (which was hard not to be when stood next to the Goliath that was Electra) but imposing. He was always watching, with this unimpressed look, lips pressed thin. It was oddly attractive, like an unexplainable attraction that would probably get a few weird looks from other trains if you tried telling them.

- So you kept your thoughts to yourself but that didn’t stop your wandering eyes (or daydreams for that matter.) You have tripped many many many times while being too busy making goo goo eyes at Electra and their components, which to the coaches dismay, means detailings start becoming very common. The coaches catch onto this quickly, meaning they giggle and tease you a lot… Always jabbing you in the side the moment Electra rolls by, their blue LED’s constantly stealing your attention.

- When you saw the other components around, you managed to make small talk but that was the extent of your interactions. You were nervous enough talking to Electra and they always sought you out first, which means you taking charge and talking to his closest companions was off the table.

- That all changed however, when you noticed a pattern. Every time Greaseball would ruffle Electra’s feathers they would angrily skate over to you, giving you a rundown of what just happened even though word spread quickly in the yard and by now you already knew. Their components would be behind them waiting for them to finish talking to you, you assumed it was so they all could reassure Electra.

- Electra would always wait a couple seconds after their rant just glancing around at the scenery before making direct eye contact with you, which was intimidating to say the least. Not wanting to get on their bad side you obviously glaze them and agree with them so much even their components look embarrassed by you; Electra on the other hand looks overjoyed.

- Electra would always slide a hand over their slicked back hair, sighing in a way you imagine was satisfactory. Before you could say any thing else, Electra would click their fingers and with that they would all be gone. Funnily, Electra continued to seek you out, sometimes with all the components or just with Killerwatt.

- Each time it stoked the fire in your heart, you couldn’t help but feel touched you were their comfort person of choice. It became more clear when Joule and Volta started giving you advice on how to properly calm Electra down or direct their attention somewhere else.

- Joule was more assertive in her approach, giving you phrases to say that would encourage Electra to rant but not rile them up. Soon after that exchange, you had Volta teach you! Well more like he indirectly insulted you while telling you how to direct Electras focus on something else, but Volta’s sassiness was no deterrent for you as you matched his energy. He seemed impressed that actually stood up for yourself and you even managed to get a couple giggles from him. (Maybe even a blush too, but he would argue till he was blue in the face that he didn’t!)

- You assumed that would be the end of your conversing with the both of them, turns out sharing tips and tricks for Electra wasn’t the only thing you could chatter about. Joule would regularly try and make you laugh at work and then nonchalantly skate away before anyone could see her so you looked crazy. After you clocked off you would always find her so you could play fight as you ‘told her off’ for putting you off work! It would always end with one of you pinned to the ground, with undeniable tension and long stares at each others lips.

- Volta was much more subtle, he would watch you from the side of his eye as you skated up to work. Once he decided you were close enough; he would let out a very dramatic long sigh. Which was loud enough to get your attention. He then proceeded to look you up and down before rolling his eyes as if to say ‘really?’ before begrudgingly explaining that your makeup was just too aggressive for your face.

- Before you had enough time to get offended, he would smile smugly telling you that it’s alright because he’s here and he can fix you up. Suspiciously, he has all the colours that you need and a perfect match for your skin tone ready to go in a little purse… You silently let him work on you as he gossips about the whole yard, and when I mean he goes in on everyone? It was like hellfire! Just pure venom and strays for everyone! You shouldn’t have enjoyed it but you couldn’t help but giggle which caused Volta to chastise you incase you messed up his hard work.

- Were you confused about being told on how to deal with a vulnerable Electra? YES, very much so. Your confusion became even worse when you decided to see Wrench, you just wanted some answers. I mean Electra coming up to rant to you personally was unique enough, let alone the other components allowing it and encouraging it!

- However, the moment you entered her repair shed you realised your one fatal mistake… There was absolutely nothing wrong with you, you were in tip top shape. Before you could create some weird illness or problem, Wrench noticed you. A flash of happiness swept her features before her face settled back into its resting bitch position. You nervously got on the bed, trying to deflect all her questions about why you were here by subtly bringing up Electra. Or well, you thought it was subtle but the way Wrench’s eyebrows kept furrowing the more you asked may have changed your mind.

- In the end she sighed, catching you in the act. She placed her hands either side of you on the bed, asking the simple question of why you were really here. You held your breath, she was so close and you couldn’t tell if she was angry or annoyed. Frustratingly, you couldn’t seem to respond! Nothing was coming out of your mouth, causing Wrench to tut before pulling out a small box from her desk. She pressed it into your hands, explaining to give it to Electra the next time you see them and that to remember for next time to be honest.

- Still in a daze you managed to skate out of the shed, and to your joy, guess who came up to see you? Electra! But they didn’t look happy for one, they were huffing and puffing while Volta and Joule tried fanning them off as Killerwatt stood just to the side. Before Electra unleashed their anger, you pushed the box against their chest, blurting out that it’s for them. They looked quite shocked that you stopped them and for a minute you were worried you disrespected them.

- All the components eyes were bouncing between you and Electra as Electra opened the box with their long acrylics. They took one last long look at you before opening the box and gasping. Accidentally throwing the box in the air as they covered their gaping mouth in shock.

- Luckily, Killerwatt with his cat-like reflexes caught the box and peered inside himself, he went rigid before lifting his shades to get a better look. It got even worse when Volta and Joule looked over Killerwatt’s shoulder, Joule burst out laughing in between little screams whereas Volta dramatically gasped holding onto Killerwatt for dear life.

- Well shit, that can’t be good. You didn’t know what was in the box and at this point you really don’t want to as Electra pulled out a ring. Fuck you Wrench, Is all you could think. She had totally set you up and now you looked like a complete idiot! As you prepared yourself to skate away and escape to another country, Electra exclaimed how they knew this was going to happen.

- Shocked, you looked up at them waiting for them to continue. They sighed clearing their throat before telling you; how Electra would always catch you looking at them and when you comforted them you did it so naturally it was as if you knew them already. Once he said that you saw Volta and Joule give eachother knowing looks, your attention got dragged back to Electra as they reminisced on you following them all the time so it was clear you loved their presence.

- That was when you realised you have been well and truly set up. You weren’t particularly mad but what hypocrites! Wrench was preaching about honesty but she just made you unknowingly propose to Electra; not only that, but Volta and Joule were encouraging this. No wonder they kept giving you advice! You wondered if Killerwatt was involved too, but you doubted it as he was always hovering around Electra and from the way Electra was acting you were sure they didn’t know what was going on behind their back.

- You now had two options: 1. Tell Electra it was a big misunderstanding and that you didn’t ACTUALLY mean to give him the ring and brave the crushing shame, or 2. Accept it and happily live the rest of your days with a group that you were attracted to anyways.

- To cut a long story short, you went along with it. You even put the ring on Electra’s finger yourself and you had to admit Wrench had good taste as Electra kept fawning over it, gushing to the fellow components before composing themselves. Electra declared that you would move to their shed immediately and sent Killerwatt with you so you could get packing. You don’t object, instead just nodding and smiling like everything is normal (Look at you, you already have this dating thing locked down!)

- Over the next week, you moved in! This of course, spiked alot of rumours which you and the components all giggled about. You couldn’t count how many people assumed you were selling your items off to Electra to pay off debts. It got to the point where Electra would just shove the ring in people’s face which in turn created a whole new branch of questions. You quickly found out that Electra didn’t actually enjoy all these personal questions.

- Although, Electra is an attention whore, they don’t enjoy sharing private information (they are actually quite introverted!) So the components took it upon themself to answer anybodies questions, which led to Killerwatt’s stress levels being at an all time high. He was constantly checking on the group and you, since he was terrified some psycho fans would come to the yard and try something.

- Luckily, he was constantly around Electra and the components due to working with them (obviously) so he could keep an eye on them, you however worked a whole different route. To help him get over his fears, you suggested he teach you some self defense! He agreed quickly and got right to work, you mostly worked on stamina and your defense rather than attacking a potential enemy. They tended to be quite long winded sessions that ran into the evening where a nice breeze would hit the both of you.

- One of these evenings, you were both sat outside watching the sun set over the yard. The training session was rough and exhausting so you unconsciously started leaning into him, he was warm and surprisingly comfy! You don’t know why but something was tugging on your heartstrings, maybe it was how perfect everything was fitting into place or the beauty of the scenery but you started pouring your heart out to him to say thank you for all the help.

- Once you finished, it looked like he wanted to say something back but he was stumped. So instead he gently took your chin and leaned in for a chaste kiss, well it started chaste before tongues got involved. It was on that fateful night you found out Killerwatt had a fondness for mint tic-tac’s.

- The next component you ended up snogging was Wrench, she was actually out of her repair shed for once! Even if it was 2:00 am… She was splayed out on the sofa, nearly on a one way ticket to snoozeville, until you popped in. Turns out you couldn’t sleep either, so without saying a word you snuggled up to her side which she readily accepted, using your warmth to soothe her aching limbs. It didn’t take long for her to recover just enough strength to give you a couple kisses before she drifted off.

- Volta was next, as he caught you before you could rush to your work and practically forced you to sit near his vanity so he could work on you. His hands were like ice, but they were so precise it kind of spooked you how robotic it felt. You shuddered at each stroke and flick of his brushes, the bristles undeniably ticklish. It all came to a head when he offered you some lip balm, being the sweet summer child you are you said yes! Which led to both of you being 30 minutes late to work, and your makeup smeared on each others faces.

- Joule being the firecracker that she is, was surprisingly patient before kissing you. She must’ve been planning to get you alone as she invited you to watch a movie with her, or to be more precise you came back to your room being turned into a pillow fort with 5 different movies to choose (with your favourite snacks!) So you weren’t complaining. Sadly, none of the movies actually got watched as you both were too busy playing footsies and sucking each others faces off to actually pay attention.

- Though what shocked you the most was, Electra. They were the last to get you alone, but you found out it was for a very good reason. They managed to secretly set up (with the help of their components of course) a picnic just on the edge of the yard, filled with all the savoury snacks and sweet treats you could desire. Not only was the weather perfect but the ambiance in particular just made it feel serene, like it was you two disconnected from the world for a little.

- The conversation flows, not once faltering to awkward silence, in fact it seems the both of you can’t stop talking to one another. That was until, Electra sighed wistfully looking into your eyes before saying there was a reason they wanted you alone last. Well that was ambiguous, you leaned in wanting them to continue. They giggled a little before revealing that they used all the information from the components to know exactly what you like.

- Well, let’s just say that picnic blanket got so ruined it had to be chucked immediately, and you may have traumatised the whole yard from being so loud! But hey, it’s not your fault! If anything, blame the walking, talking vibrator with a really nice ass.

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