#it's seriously a terrible thing to do to yourself it's just sad at this point

[selfportrait27]

Look I know people get dumb and ugly on Tumblr too, but this is every single day on Reddit:

"Prove it. Change my mind. Do all of my thinking for me and take responsibility for my worldview. Oh you can't? Well I guess I'll just have to keep getting dumber and add you to my list of people to blame then. Thanks for proving my point yet again."

[amisunderstoodgoddess]

— point of no return

rating: explicit. 18+ only

summary: you're used to hiding your true feelings for your best friend, but tonight is the point of no return in your relationship.

Author's note: fic based on the Chaise Atlantic soundtrack - seriously, there's nothing more addictive than Jeremiah Fisher and Chase Atlantic.

English is not my first language

I apologize for any errors you may find.

"Jesus, you keep settling for these idiots..." You hear your friend Jeremiah's deep voice approaching you in the empty hall; the sound of the music and the banter of your friends downstairs is now more muffled.

His disdainful stance changes dramatically in the space of a heartbeat, his beautiful blue eyes soften and harden right in front of you as he looks all over your body for physical harm.

"Wh-what?" You ask as you try to wipe your tears quickly, hoping he didn't see it, forcing a shaky smile.

"Your boyfriend, or whatever he is, just passed me on the stairs and didn't even have the decency to respond when I spoke to him and-and...hey..." He trails off when he gets the full view of your face - your face flushed and wet with tears.

"What happened? Did he do something you didn't want? By God, if he did anything, I swear it-" he's grumbling and widening his already imposing posture, obviously prepared to chase your boyfriend for explanations - ex boyfriend, you mentally correct yourself. You would have laughed, if you had any presence of mind for it.

"Jeremiah." You take his hands in yours, so small and delicate compared to his, drawing his attention. "He didn't do anything…well, actually he did, but…it's complicated."

You know he doesn't understand, not with the confused way you're acting, but you're both interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Jeremiah acts quickly and pulls you into his room, locking the door before anyone sees the two of you.

He backs you up against the door without any warning, putting an arm to the side of your head so you can't escape. You try to ignore the swarm of butterflies that dance in your belly as he looks at you through those long dark lashes. The scent of his masculine cologne – sandalwood and something warm and rich, like the purest heat of the sun, something that seemed to cling constantly to his skin – now, suddenly enveloping you too.

A flush forms on your cheeks and you look away from him, embarrassed by his proximity.

Jeremiah is cozy. This is a fact. There's no way you can sit next to him on the couch, side by side, without his arm around you or his head resting in your lap. That's how it's always been since you became friends years ago.

But the way he's looking at you now, body so close to yours, eyes searching yours with sincere interest… somehow it feels different. It feels new.

"Tell me what happened, please." He says seriously, way too serious for him, cupping your chin with long fingers so you'll face him again.

"No-..." You take a deep breath, "it was no big deal. We just broke up. That's all." You want to say this without crying, but tears are already pooling in your waterline once again.

There are a few seconds of silence, filled only by both of your breaths. He just looks at you, carefully assessing your face.

Just when you think he's not going to say anything else, Jeremiah sighs, long and almost relieved, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You frown at him and he has the decency to at least look embarrassed.

"Sorry, sorry! I know you feel terrible right now, but honey, breaking up with that guy was one of the best things you could have ever done. I can't pretend I'm sad about it." He says smoothing the flushed skin of your cheeks fondly.

"Actually, he was the one who broke up with me." You sniff, biting your lip nervously.

Jeremiah freezes and blinks a few times like an owl, processing what you just said.

"What?!" It suddenly bursts. "W-why? Why would he do that? You decide to break up with him…fine, understandable…but why the hell would he break up with you?" He's clearly nonplussed, brows furrowed and curls brushing his forehead as he shakes his head in denial.

"I don't know. He said something vague about me being too needy...he said that sometimes I 'feel too much', whatever that means."

This seems to drive him even more out of his mind.

"What the fuck is that explanation? He wants to tell how you should be, is that it?"

You sigh and try to slip under his arm, overwhelmed by the whole situation, but he squeezes your waist and pulls you back against the door, bringing your bodies even closer.

“That's not what he meant and you know it, Jere. You're taking what he said out of context and that's not fair."

It feels like a barrier has burst after your words, something that once held Jeremiah to sanity and is now no longer there.

"Fair?" He lets out a sharp sigh and shakes his head in disbelief. An oddly cruel smile curves his full lips. "You know what's not 'fair'? Seeing your best friend settle for someone who is beneath her in every way. They don't even deserve to lick the dirt off your boots, Y/N. You deserve so much more than that."

It's your turn to smile wryly. “Then how come no one wants me, Jere? My last two relationships ended in a matter of weeks and you know it. It's the most they can handle by my side. It's time to see reality. They're right, there's something wrong with me."

You are really crying right now. Heartbroken. Not for Mike. You really don't care about him, to be brutally honest. He was just another attempt to fill the emptiness.

The emptiness that left your aching and vulnerable.

Jeremiah reaches out to you, pulling you in and wrapping you in the warmth of his broad chest. "Shit. I'm sorry, princess. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just hate seeing you like this." He strokes yout hair and you sniffle into your shirt. “But you need to know that this is not true. People can't help but want to be with you. You are light. Everyone loves you.”

He pulls your head back, making you look at him again, almost touching your forehead to his, bending his tall body to maintain eye contact with you. Pale blue eyes meet yours, watery and fragile, and for just an instant, you know your eyes betray your secret hope, keeping your own love for him secret. Your eyes disconnect from the intense eye contact and look anxiously at his lips for just a second before re-establishing the connection.

You swallow hard and try to steel your resolve.

You can't do that, you can't confuse the common charisma and intense affection that Jeremiah expresses for basically everyone, with what you really want him to feel for you.

You cannot project your own feelings onto him.

You're not sure when that had changed. When did you start to think differently about Jeremiah, your best friend and constant presence in your life growing up. You moved in your teens and you both didn't have contact for a few years. And since you came back to Cousins, you decided you couldn't risk spoiling your friendship with mixed feelings - friendship that still remained strong, like when you were kids, like not a day had passed since you left.

But Jere certainly grew up while you were gone, and so did you.

Your feelings for him were no longer innocent.

Sometimes you could have sworn the feeling was mutual. You couldn't escape his smoldering gazes when he found you in the kitchen, sitting on the stool wearing one of his hoodies that looked giant on your smaller frame. He would confidently stand in front of you, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee while his eyes roam your legs, not saying a single word to you.

Despite that, you weren't entirely sure. And Jeremiah was too important for you to risk ruining your friendship.

It was getting tough, though. Especially with the way he was looking at you right now.

There was a risk in that, you knew that. You were friends. Your family, friends, and social group were all intertwined. You weren't entirely sure how he felt. It could all come crashing down around you if it went wrong, whatever it was.

There would certainly be questions and there was a lot to think about. But, God, it really was hard for you to think of anything while you were pinned against his bedroom door, with his thigh wedged between your legs - testing, probing, discovering...

Maybe it was the alcohol you drank earlier, maybe it was just heartbreak from the humiliation of being rejected by Mike, maybe you just went really crazy and out of your mind after all...

But before you could think, you were acting.

You look at him, your eyes are still watery but your mouth is set in a firm line, something needy in your expression. “And you, Jere?”

He sighs: "What about me?"

"You want me?" It's a challenge. You say the words without really allowing yourself to think about the consequences. Part of you is so tired of it all - of pretending and hiding.

Your eyes follow the sweeping fall of his golden-brown curls across his forehead to his Adam's apple, which rises and falls with the way he swallows. You lick your lips. You want him. You've wanted him for so long. But there was always this fear of seeking more. He's your best friend and honestly, you don't think you could handle losing him.

He no.

Not Jeremiah.

He's always been the main constant in your life and if you didn't have him…you didn't want to think about what that would be like.

So why, why did you open your mouth?

You are so scared.

You think you might be going crazy.

“Y/N.” He swallows hard. You think he might try to deny it, and, as much as you shouldn't, you're the one approaching him this time, brushing your noses together...eliminating all doubt from the context of your question.

You just need to know. Even if it hurts. Your heart feels like it wants to get out of your chest, but you choose to throw caution to the wind - you've already gone too far. Your hand reaches out, sliding over his nice shirt, feeling the hardness of the muscles along his chest. His hands wrap around your waist and are so big that they reach your back, pulling you closer.

He's looking at your mouth and you think 'fuck', grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down as you go up on your toes, crushing your mouth to his.

He doesn't hesitate. He's leaning your hard against the door, his hand tangled in your hair as he returns the kiss fervently, sliding his lips over yours and pressing your body to his.

The kiss is everything and nothing you expect.

It doesn't start out subtly or in the weird, messy way that first kisses between two people typically characterize. No, this kiss is intense, hot and tastes right. Like he's kissed you a thousand times before.

He bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth and deepen the kiss. At the same time, one of his hands comes up to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your mind spin.

His tongue tastes like mint bubblegum as he kisses you hard, deep and, oh, it's too much and not enough at the same time, because you think you'll never get tired of the taste of him - it burns you deep. You moan into his mouth and it causes something like a growl in the back of his throat. Something dangerous and full of need.

You move against him, wanting more, but the sliding of tongues and lips eventually overcomes you and you forget what you were going to do. When he stops the kiss to inhale for just a moment, sucking, tugging at your bottom lip, you barely have time to think before he's crushing his mouth to yours again. His teeth chatter softly and you feel your heart skip and stutter and pound at the intimacy.

His other arm pulls your thigh around his hips and he pins you against the door with his body, crushing you with broad shoulders and wet mouth and desperate intentions. You squeeze a handful of curly hair between your fingers and pull, and he sighs against your mouth in drunken relief.

And when he pulls back a little, blue eyes slitted, entranced, looking chained and addicted - vaguely you think that no one has ever kissed quite like Jeremiah Fisher.

His hand is still on your throat like a necklace, the other holding your leg around his waist as his lips trace along your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You cup his face with trembling fingers and pull him back into your mouth, catching his soft bottom lip between your teeth in an amused bite.

He moans into your mouth. “Y/N…princess…I've wanted you for so long. God."

“J–Jere…” You whimper and unconsciously push your hips into him, rocking against his hard, defined abs.

"Yes dear? Are you well? Still okay?" he asks, needing to know if it was still okay for you, if you wanted to stop.

You nod quickly – God, everything's more than okay – and he grunts contentedly, pressing your hips down so you can feel…oh…hard and big, hidden inside his pants, rubbing just once against you - just so you feel what you're doing with him.

You both moan at the contact, his thick fingers curling a little more into your throat. "I need your words baby, I need you to say it's okay."

You shake your head nonstop, starting to feel distant. “Please,” you murmur. “Please, Jeremiah, just—” your voice starts to crack, starts to shake, and he silences you, kissing you before you can say his name again.

You lean against him, desperately tugging at his shirt as you become frustrated with his intense presence. You crave his skin, but all you can hold onto is the soft cotton that hides what you want.

Sensing your uneasiness, Jeremiah smiles into your lips and holds your other leg against his body, squeezing you into him as he leads you towards his bed.

You barely hit the soft mattress before he pounces on you, kissing your lips vigorously, devouring you inside and out. His big palms are flat against the mattress, perfectly framing your head where you're lying, but it's not enough.

Of course, it's not enough. You want his hands on your body, taking everything he can from you and giving you back until you're exhausted and panting.

You pull hard on the shirt that still frames his broad shoulders, dragging the fabric up and away from his skin. In a desperate sigh, you spill syllables onto his lips, and all you can do is hope he has some mercy.

“Jere,” you say again, breathless and close to tears, revealing your surge of pent-up need for him. "Take it off. Please."

And he does. Finally, impossibly, he does.

You watch with glittering eyes as he drops to his knees and pulls his shirt over his head, the warm light from his room spreading over his golden skin until he glows. A perfect package of defined abs muscles, broad chest and shoulders, strong arms with veins running the entire length, curly hair falling around his face, and of course, blue eyes a few shades darker with desire...he's a like a Greek god.

You watch him with desire, watch his shirt fall to the floor beside the bed, watch his deft hands reach out to you, fingers hooking under your own shirt that's too big for your body.

Same exchange, maybe. You lose your own shirt to his purposeful hands, leaving you with nothing more than the plain bra you usually wear and little shorts that expose too much skin. Jeremiah pushes the big body back to yours, intoxicatingly but patiently, and kisses the last breath of your lungs until you're writhing and clawing at his skin.

It's unimaginable when your skin finally presses against each other. Bare bodies and desperate desires, nothing is left but desire burning between your flesh. You moan and allow Jeremiah to have you however he wants, and he wants to trace his lips across your front in a smooth line of kisses, fluidly unclasping your bra and pushing it off your body like the thing is an offense to him.

"God, fuck, you don't know how long I've wanted this…" By the time he got the thing off your body, his lips were all over your neck and collarbones. Kissing and sucking your skin into his mouth, leaving his marks on you. Your fingers dug into his hair and pulled, the reward was a strangled moan you could feel against your skin. "Fucking long, baby."

And suddenly he was leaning down with his mouth on your breast as his hand came up to caress the other.

Another sound, something between a moan and a gasp, escaped your mouth as he licked your nipple with his hot tongue. You tried to cover your mouth with your hand, but he pulled it away and placed it on his shoulders once more.

“I want to hear you, princess.” he whispered into your damp skin, looking up at you from where his face was buried in your breast and gently biting your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. "You're so fucking perfect, Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with desire as he teased one of your nipples with his tongue. While the hand that wasn't occupied with your breast found its way between your legs, pushing your shorts off your body with a few tugs.

"Ah, fuck…" He sighed into your nipple, tingling your skin, feeling how wet your panties were as he probed you with two fingers, circling your clit over the fragile tissue tentatively once. You let out your most embarrassing sound yet: a high-pitched moan, whimper, something like that. You'd be mortified if you had the mental capacity for it.

But Jeremiah only grew up listening you.

"Do you like it, baby?" he asks in his husky voice, kissing your belly and reaching down.

"Yes, Jere, please...I want this so badly..."

His big blue eyes blinked at you from under the heavy curtain of lashes, staring at you so intently you thought you would come at that moment.

Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath as you watched him push the soaked fabric of your panties to the side, still not taking his eyes off you. And slowly, as if he were mocking you, his lips finally descended.

You threw your head back with a silent cry at the feel of his mouth on you, and then he was there, his tongue parting your wet lips and plunging inside you. His teeth grazed your swollen clit in a single pulse of pleasure that had you squirming involuntarily, making room only for him to get his hands under you and grab your ass, pulling you closer to him. The position allowed him the freedom to tongue fuck you, moan against your folds, and the vibrations combined with the lewd feel of him inside you like that…you had already reached the point of no return.

"Damn, you taste even better than I thought baby…" He mumbles drunkenly before returning to tease your clit with his lips, his tongue running fervently over the nub. His hands moved beneath you once more, resting your legs on his shoulder. Jeremiah looked down at your glossy folds, almost shaking with excitement. "You look yummy enough to eat, kitten," he said with a wild laugh. His lips found your clit once more.

You screamed, your fingers pulling at his hair. "Jere!"

You cried his name.

He growled into your folds at the needy sound of your voice.

Within moments, you felt yourself getting more and more tense. He moaned, sucking the sensitive flesh once more and you screamed. That small action was all it took to push you over the edge. Every muscle in your body snapped and you cried his name with passion. And he continued his cares, long after your body had stopped shaking.

Impatience quickly replaces momentary lethargy and you find yourself gently pulling his head away from you, still flushed and panting. "Jere, please, for God's sake..."

You don't even know what you're begging for anymore. All you know is what you want. You want his touch, this newfound pleasure. You want it all.

He licks his lips and stands quickly, pulling his pants and underwear off his body as he lets you look at every inch of his exposed body.

His cock is the most spectacular thing you've ever seen and you try to hide your shock; he's the perfect balance of long and thick, more than enough to let you know your pussy will be full, struggling to accommodate him.

Maybe he'll leave you with a memory, a delicious pain. Something to remember that night.

You desperately want to remember that. And you want him to remember you too - like this; hot, sweaty and needing him.

He crawls across the bed until he's on top of you once more, all golden skin and defined muscles, sun-kissed hair and cock leaking precum.

You don't think you've ever seen anything as beautiful as Jeremiah.

Your mouth waters, your eyes reveal your thoughts as you stare at him. The glow in that pretty face makes you hesitantly, shyly reach out and curl your fingers around him.

"You are so beautiful." You murmur against his lips, his mouth opening with a snort and his pool blue eyes fluttering at the feel of your soft skin caressing his warm length. He's heavy and wet between your fingers and you can feel the veins pulsing along his length with each slow stroke of your palm.

"Ah princess, that's it…" he moans before white teeth hold his lower lip hostage as he looks at you from under dark lashes and heavy lids. The question hangs there, needy and urgent. You nod, fingers of your other hand encircling the back of his neck in a confident grip, legs spread wide as he aligns himself with your pussy with one hand and supports his weight on the bed with his forearm next to your face.

“Tell me what you want, my love, and I'll give it to you.” His cock jumped and you felt yourself shiver in anticipation as his head slid up and down your core. The swollen tip is shiny and wet on you and you can feel your pussy trying to pull him in with the shallow thrust when he finally presses against your entrance. He does this a few times and you whimper in frustration. He just smiles one of his wide, bright smiles, except this time there's something almost desperate there too. You wrap your legs around him and take a deep breath as his cock pushes into you, just the tip remaining immobile as he stares at you blushing back at him. He combs your hair back and places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I'm going to ruin our friendship baby…” he breathes and your heart almost sinks before he pulls away and slides inside you again. "You understand?"

He begins to sink into you in an almost affectionate rhythm, allowing you to become familiar with his length. You grab his arms and squeeze them tight each time he pushes himself an inch deeper into you, sighing and rolling your hips with him, grunting as he slowly advances on you.

You blush even more when he chuckles evilly at your reaction. But you can't stop. You're ready to cry, hypersensitive and aroused by the last orgasm, desperately needing another.

His cock moves inside you some more, your pussy straining to pull him in. You shudder, the sensation delicious and torrid and aching all at the same time.

Your eyes close when he's buried to the end.

“Fucking perfect,” he exhales, squinting his eyes and breathing through his mouth. "You were made for me, princess."

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for another hungry kiss and when he hits you, you whimper, biting his bottom lip. He growls and runs his nails along the skin of your neck until he grab the strands of your hair, eliciting a loud, pent-up moan from the back of your throat.

"Please..." You start and don't finish, rolling your eyes with each thrust.

"Please what? Use your words, kitten." He's being cruel. He knows how desperate you are, how much you want him. He is trying to exert control over you.

But you don't like it? A voice from the dark depths of your mind mocks.

Yes, you do.

"I want you to fuck me, Jere," you gasped, your eyes heavy with desire. "Take me...make me yours. Please..."

"Good girl." he mutters, sending a shiver down your spine. He runs his thumb over your breast until the nipple forms a hardened peak. "So good for me baby."

You can barely breathe, you feel so full. Your nails dug into his back and you both hiss at the sensation. He thrusts into you hard, his hips rocking back and forth inside you. All you can hear is the sound of your meowing and skin hitting skin.

His hands grip your hips so hard you're sure you're going to hurt tomorrow. You beg, a strangled cry breaking from your lips as the pressure you feel builds.

And so he's turning you two; a quick, fluid movement, without leaving your body, until you're sitting on top of him as he's sprawled across the bed. You're panting and flushed, embarrassed that you're the one setting the pace now, but your desire is too high for you to remain quiet for long.

You bite your bottom lip and nod, indicating that you like this. Jeremiah smiles softly and cups your hips, pushing you back once, then pulling you forward. He groans and clenches his jaw as you circle your hips to tease his hard cock.

You feel his hands caressing your ass, squeezing, pulling and pushing you onto his cock.

"Damn, you look so good like that." he breathed, his husky voice reverent, dreamy, needy… "I can't wait to see you mess all over my cock."

Suddenly, he seems to lose his temper, pulling you up and down the base of his throbbing cock with force, making you gasp in surprise. Despite that, you feel a sly smile stretch your own lips, the satisfaction of good sex coursing through your body becomes addictive. Not that you'd have much of a basis for comparison, having only done it once - fast, clumsy and unsatisfying.

God, nothing like this experience with Jeremiah. He should have been your first, you are absolutely sure.

You rest your hands on his sweat-damp chest, forcing yourself to move your hips up and down faster. You moan, looking up at him as you tease your clit into his pelvis.

Jeremiah plants his feet on the bed and slides his hands behind you to cup your ass cheeks, opening you and lifting his hips to slam you deeper. You gasp and dig your nails into the skin of his chest, eliciting a hoarse moan from the man.

He looks at you, all clenched jaw, furrowed brows and hazy blue eyes boring straight into you. A moment passes, then another, the feeling of something big coming closer and closer.

“I could barely handle it..." he admits hastily, taking one of his hands from your ass to spread it across your belly, squeezing and massaging your flesh. “The idea of someone else's fucking hands on you, princess. Of those little guys touching what's mine…” Jeremiah lets out a shuddering breath as his hand continues up your side, thumb gently brushing the underside of your breast, causing liquid heat to pool in your core.

You whimper as he cups your breasts and pinches your nipple, moaning at the feel of his fingers sending electricity to your swollen clit, making you roll your hips harder against him.

Your toes curl and your thighs flex as you approach the edge. You lean down to capture his lips with yours, skimming your tongue along his before sucking mint and sunshine on your tongue. He moans into your mouth as you let your tongue run past his teeth and along his bottom lip.

His grip on your ass is almost painful, making you move faster. Jeremiah licks his lips and watches you as he uses the heels of his feet to thrust faster and faster into you.

"That's it love, let go for me, I want to feel you come all over my cock."

You part your lips and scream as you crush your pussy against his pelvis and come hard with your rolling hips. Pleasure rushes over you like waves as you tighten around him. Jeremiah gasps and watches your slow, hazy descent. He grabs your hips and throws you onto your back once more.

You squeal as he stands between your thighs, looking up at you with a dangerous smile before slamming into you and making you scream a loud moan. There's no patience or time for you to recover, he fucks you up during your overstimulation.

"Come on, princess, you can handle it…" You moan in response to his wild words, and grip the sheets beside you as he slides his forearms under your knees to push your legs against your chest.

You struggle to look down when you see that his gaze is fixed between your legs, nearly drooling as his watch his own cock enter your wet pussy with each hard thrust. His lips part and his messy golden hair falls in front of his electric blue gaze. He licks his lips and groans as he pumps into you harder, pushing you back against the bed.

The sight makes your pussy clench with a fresh wave of need.

You lift your hips and bend slightly as he tilts his hips, hitting your G-spot and making your toes curl. You flex your thighs and grab the pillow to scream in ecstasy as you suddenly collapse around him once more. Surprise etched across your flushed, sweaty face as you widen your eyes. Jeremiah laughs, but he's barely holding it together now, as broken as you are.

Each thrust sends the bed creaking and hitting the wall, the sound drowned out only by the loud music and shouting from the lower level of the house.

He smiles, breathless and close to the edge.

“Come for me, Jere, please...” you murmured to him, exhausted and shaky. You want to tell him to cum inside you, you're on birth control and you trust Jeremiah above anyone else. Do you really want. But all you can do is stare at him through narrowed, watery eyes, silently begging him to finish inside you.

He seems to understand you, like he always does.

He moans and pushes your legs even closer towards your chest, focusing on his own growing climax. He quickens his hips and his knees widen into the bed as he approaches. Moans escape his lips as his thrusts become erratic.

“Fuck, fuck, I've wanted this for so long,” he moans loudly, desperately. "Fill that sweet pussy. Fuck, take it all baby..."

His nails dug into yours legs as he slammed harder, his hip bones colliding with the backs of your thighs. His throbbing cock inside you soggy, wet pussy was music to his ears, pushing him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips before parting them in ecstasy, lost in the way his cock was fucking your tight pussy.

And then you hear his breath hitch. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, stretching your pussy and making you feel fuller. Jeremiah curses under his ragged breath, speeding it up until he lets out a loud groan. "I'm cumming, fuck, fuck..."

If you had any energy left, you would have cum from just the needy sound of his voice, but your body is limp and exhausted after three intense orgasms. So you just watch it carefully; the way his bushy brows are drawn together in the most beautiful agony, his golden brown curls sticking to his forehead, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his golden skin glistening with sweat, his defined muscles flexing and relaxing...

He's perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Jeremiah pulls off of you and collapses noisily beside you, breathing hard and you slowly stretch your legs out, feeling like you might get a cramp at any moment. He lifts himself up on one elbow as your legs spread slowly in exhaustion along the sheets.

He grabs some kleenex from the desk next to the bed and goes back to wipe it between your legs. "Are you well?"

"Mmhmm...yeah, but I don't think I can get up." You said softly and laughed, putting an arm over your eyes.

"Don't worry about it baby, we don't have to leave now. We can stay here all night actually." He said and you can hear the smile in his voice, the satisfaction and happiness.

For some reason that made you more embarrassed than anything that had happened just a few minutes ago. The fact that he was obviously pleased awakened a kind of self-awareness in you that wasn't present before.

God, what did that mean to him? Was it something induced by the heat of the moment? A unique thing that you would keep only in your memory?

You didn't dare remove your arm from your face, too embarrassed to really look at him right now.

He had no idea. Inside, your heart was doing somersaults and you almost thought about crying with sheer relief and happiness at having fulfilled one of your greatest desires in life.

Here, in the low lighting of his bedroom, you couldn't pretend that you probably weren't head over heels in love with your best friend.

You could never again pretend you weren't in love with Jeremiah Fisher.

But your daydreams were interrupted when he moved beside you, and soon he was sliding under the covers with you, wrapping himself around you like a cocoon, like something safe and warm and fluffy - not the sexy man who just eat you and touched you and made you come three times in a row.

“I really like you, princess,” he whispered, his voice cracking in the process, right in your ear. You heard him smile as he gently pulled your arm away from your face, forcing you to look at him.

You swallow and try not to vent the insecurity you're feeling.

"I meant everything I said, you know." He continues, his eyes clear and shining like the sky, even in the dim lighting of the room. "You are mine. Always have been."

You let one of your hands rest on his chest, feeling his heart race under your fingertips. God, you want to agree. You want to give yourself to him more than anything...

He's right, you were always his.

But there is one thing that still troubles you.

“What if I want you to be mine too?”

He lets out a chuckle, bringing his head forward to rest in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “That's easy, love. I've been yours longer than I care to admit. And now I've had you this way, I'm not at all willing to let you go."

You sigh and smile, your eyes becoming blurred with tears once more. When Jeremiah pulls away, he laughs at the satisfied expression on your face, placing a sweet, slow kiss on your swollen lips.

His tone was teasing and affectionate as he said, “What are best friends for anyway?”

[skyahri]

Remember Part Four |SatoSugu X Reader| HC Series

Part Three Masterlist Ko-fi

A/N: Y'all, I'm so sorry it's so late. My mind has been buzzing in a different direction.

- - - - -

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Satoru..."

He'd been begging to join you on your unofficial outing for the better part of an hour. He'd been following you around, making empty promises to behave and offering you random things in return if you'd just allow him to accompany you. But you knew better, and after nearly thirteen years of knowing the man, it was safe to assume he'd only cause a headache.

"I'm serious. Let me go with you. You don't have to do everything by yourself, you know."

"Satoru..."

Your patience is wearing thin at this point. There's a silent warning that follows the hiss of his name, but he ignores it all the same.

"Just let us in. Let us help."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"I know it has something to do with Suguru."

You froze, staring blankly in front of you for only a moment before turning around to face him. His expression was hard, something that you've seen many times over the years, but never one you'd expect from pre-tragedy Gojo- someone still high on the spoils of his upbringing and blind to the heartache of the real world.

He'd said it with all the confidence in the world, like it was a fact and not some half-assed conclusion he (and presumably Geto, too) had come to. Your lack of response and obvious shock must have been all the confirmation he needed- to say everything that's been on his mind since that encounter in the bathroom two weeks ago. To hell with Suguru's endless warnings about coming on too strong. He was tired of waiting for you to come around.

"You're struggling..." his voice was uncharacteristically soft, like he was worried he'd spook you, "You don't sleep. You skip meals. You disappear without so much as a goodbye. We know you're doing all of this for the greater good, or whatever, but it's hard watching you kill yourself in the process. I just want to take some of the weight off of you, but you won't let me."

You can only stare up at him. He'd tipped his glasses down to the tip of his nose, allowing you to look into his pretty blue eyes. (That asshole knows your weaknesses). It's easy to get a read on him, the seriousness of his words reflecting perfectly on his face. But even if he does mean it, you can't bring yourself to drag him into your never-ending pit of hopelessness.

"I appreciate it, Satoru, but I can't take that kind of risk. This could very well be my only shot and I can't risk losing him just because I can't handle a little pressure-"

"It's not a little pressure and we both know it."

"You just don't understand-"

"Then make me understand!"

"He leaves, Satoru!"

Maybe he's more in tune with your brain than you are, or maybe he just knows all the right buttons to push, because the stress simmering in your mind seems to bubble over in that moment. You inhale sharply and let it all out.

"Things happen, terrible things, and it changes him, and he just... leaves. I can't tell you because I can't risk fucking up our only chance to save him. I just-" a heavy sob breaks through your sentence, but it doesn't deter you, "I love you and you love me, but we love him. We need him, Satoru, and he isn't around. We're not the same. We're sad and empty and it's lonely."

It spills out like word vomit. You can't control what you're saying and you can barely process the actual syllables, but you don't stop.

"I can't spend another decade wearing his shirts that you've spritzed with his cologne and wishing he were there. I can't spend another Sunday looking at the extra chair we keep at the dining table just in case he comes back. I avoid your nightstand because I know you keep a ring in there for him. You and I still text in the group chat even though he's been inactive since that night!"

Satoru is quiet for once in his life. He's been completely stunned into silence, not daring to interrupt your ranting. Your eerily calm pleading turned into shouting at some point and he's grateful for the privacy of an empty school on a particularly busy day.

He hates the tears in your eyes, even more so when they start to drip down your flushed cheeks. He wishes that he had better listened to all of Suguru's annoying lectures about sympathy and empathy (or whatever it's called) because he's grossly ill-prepared for this conversation.

He settles on pulling you into a hug, because while words aren't his strong suit, actions certainly are. He lets you cry into his chest without complaint. You grip the fabric of his school-issued white button-up and let go of all the pent-up grief from the past twelve years.

"So,"

He waits for you to become slightly more composed.

"What are we gonna do about it?"

You chuckle at how unapologetically comfortable he is with himself. You don't remove yourself from his embrace, choosing instead to hide the incoming tension.

"We stop him."

"From?"

"A year and a half from now, Suguru goes on a solo mission to a small village, where he will kill a hundred and twelve villagers. He takes over a cult, whose new goal is to kill all non-sorcerers in an attempt to end curses forever."

Satoru swallow hard. Honestly, what the hell was he supposed to say to that?

"... seriously?"

Well, apparently not that.

You push off of him and punch him square in the chest. It's playful, kind of, lightening the atmosphere a bit.

"Okay, okay. I just mean, like, if Suguru were to switch sides, that's definitely the prerogative he'd take. So, what now?"

- - - - -

You sat across from him on the city bus to your destination, an envelope in his hands.

"This is it?"

There are three newspaper clippings inside. Obituaries, spaced years apart, and non-specific. Names, dates, and kind words, but nothing more.

"Yeah... that's it."

Satoru slumps back in his seat, his blue and white kimono fanning out across the seat. He sighs and slides further down, pouting like a child who didn't get his way.

"Why not wait until we have more information, then? Seems like a waste to me."

"They host a harvest festival twice a year to bring in money, but other than that, it's pretty closed off. This is the only time I can gather information without raising suspicion."

"What are we looking for?"

"Suguru spares two little girls. I only met them once and I didn't have the opportunity to ever ask him about it, so my knowledge is limited. I know they're sorcerers and that they adored Suguru, but nothing else. I was hoping to check out their home situation, if possible. The request the elders send in is very... hostile to say the least, so I was wondering if there was some build-up to the event."

"You think maybe they're being mistreated? Suguru would definitely snap over something like that."

"I think that something happened right around the time the girls would've acquired their cursed techniques. Villages like this tend to be irrationally superstitious. Three unexplained deaths and two girls who can see monsters probably won't go over very well."

Satoru let his head fall onto the window with a loud thunk. His brain was starting to hurt. Is this really what you're up to when you sneak off? Coming up with an elaborate hypothesis based on nothing but (only possibly relevent) future knowledge and guesswork? He'd only been on the case for two hours and he was already drained.

"So what are we gonna do?"

"Depends. I brought some talismans to hide around the area at the very least. If we see anything concrete, we'll return to the school and submit an official request to Yaga."

"I don't understand why we're sneaking around. Isn't future vision a good enough reason to investigate?"

"I'd like to keep this whole thing away from the elders if possible. Yaga and I have an understanding of sorts, but the geezers aren't as amicable."

You knew Satoru could at least understand that much. While he doesn't have the extensive experience you have with them yet, he's still vividly aware of just how scrutinizing they can be.

You can see the restlessness settle onto his face. He hates the back road way of things, preferring to charge in head first and think about consequences later- a big reason (among many) that you didn't initially plan to key him into any of this.

"We can't just, I don't know, ask Suguru to chill out or something?"

You lean over him and flick his forehead. He flinches back and starts to complain, but is cut off by the screeching of the bus's brakes.

The two of you exit the vehicle and make your way down the dirt path that leads to the village. You expected to feel something, anything really, but even once you're past the torii there's nothing. No cursed energy, residuals, or any sign of abnormality.

Satoru must not see anything either, because his brows are pulled together and there's a slight frown on his face.

Even without seeing anything off about the place, it's still weird. The only time you've ever been here before was directly after the massacre. Now, not only are all of the villagers alive, but the whole area is bustling with tourists.

You only have a moment to glance over the sea of people before Satoru is pulling you over towards the food stands. He heads straight for the Takoyaki stand and stuffs a handful of yen into the vendor's hand. He practically shoves one of the trays in your face and takes one for himself before pulling you off again.

"Satoru, stop! What are you doing? We aren't here to dick around!"

Two minutes. It's only been two minutes and yet he's already lost sight of the goalpost.

He doesn't show any signs that he's heard you, instead opting to maneuver through people until you're parked next to a giant oak tree on a small hill. He drops the wrist he had taken and turns around. He's wearing that shit-eating grin, the one that clearly says he's up to no good and doesn't feel all that sorry about it.

"We can do both. Enjoy the sights, eat some food, grab some fresh produce, and gather information. Consider it a win-win situation."

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to come. You never take anything seriously."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing two things at once, princess. Besides-"

He grabs your tray and sets both down on the ground. He turns you around rather aggressively and pushes on your shoulders until you're both sat on the grass, his long legs awkwardlybent on either side of you. He leans forward so his head is over your shoulder and his hands slide down to rest on your elbows.

"Look."

You're rolling your eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting, about to lecture him, but then you see it- two little girls, a blonde and a brunette.

They're with two people who you can only assume are their parents. They seem fine. Happy. Healthy. Smiles on their face, sweet pastries in their hands, and powdered sugar on their cheeks.

You glance around from your elevated space and notice that everyone you can confidently assume belongs to this village looks fine. Vendors are laughing with their customers and farmers are helping kids pick berries off the remaining bushes.

"I don't understand..."

"It's just too early to intervene. We'll come back in the summer and go from there, okay?"

You relax your body and lean back into him.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Now,

He hands you the tray kindly this time and leans back just enough so he can enjoy his own while still invading your personal space.

"How about we eat our Takoyaki, browse around a bit, hang up some talismans, and then head back home? Suguru should be back tonight."

He'd successfully worn you down. You couldn't argue with him even if you wanted to. He'd gone with you to the (apparently useless) event, found exactly what you were looking for, and solidified that nothing could be done quite yet.

So what else is there to do besides having to his demands?

"... alright."

Nothing.

He smiled at you.

"Good girl."

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[thewulf]

May I Kiss You? || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - But a story where it’s Jake x reader and she’s in the dagger squad and her and Nat are like “one of the guys” and reader hates it cause she likes Jake (Jake likes her too) but she thinks he sees her as manly and everything... Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahhhh this was so much fun to write. I love a sweet af Jake. A good hurt/comfort if you will!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 3.0k +

“Nat, this is too much.” You checked yourself out in the floor-length mirror feeling terribly self-conscious in the skintight gold lacy mini dress she’d picked out for you. You’d never been one to show off and this dress was showing off everything, not much was left to the imagination. You felt like your boobs were spilling out and the cutouts left little to guess about.

She shook her head, “No it’s not! You look hot as fuck Bee.” She grinned checking you out without shame, “Besides, it’s just for a couple drinks then we’re going to the show. It’s not like we’re dressing up for the guys.” You’d earned your callsign, Bee, after not shutting the fuck up about bumblebees and why we needed to save them. Needless to say, you’d gotten the guys to plant wildflowers everywhere they could and trees where they shouldn’t. What could you say? You were convincing.

“No, you look hot.” You pointed to her even tighter red dress that looked rocking on her olive skin. Not much would look bad on Nat though, she could rock pretty much anything you were convinced, “I look so fucking out of place.” You sighed in defeat.

“Shut up Y/N. Seriously, you look really good. Jake won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.” She grinned knowing how to push your buttons perfectly.

“He will not. He doesn’t notice me at all.” You frowned, “I’m just one of the guys to him.” You wished it didn’t affect you so deeply but here you stood. Sad and upset.

She laughed, laughed of all things, “You really have no idea do you?” She quirked her eyebrow up in the most Natasha way possible. Basically, calling you a dumbass right to your face without outright saying it.

“Don’t put these thoughts into my head Nat!” You groaned careful not to smear the makeup you’d just spent far too much applying.

She punched your shoulder lightly, “Come on Bee. Think about it. He goes out of his way to sit next to you in class. He basically demands you be his wizzo. Jake Seresin has never had a wizzo before. He rushes to sit next to you at lunch… honey he likes you. Maybe even loves you.” She smirked knowing that’d truly get through to you.

You pursed your lips thinking it through, “So?”

She laughed, “Stop deflecting. He doesn’t act that way with me. Or Halo. He’s simply obsessed with you darling. He’s going to lose it when he sees you in that number tonight.”

You groaned again, another fresh set of butterflies erupted in your stomach, “Don’t remind me.”

“Why not?” She turned towards you.

“He’s literally never seen me in anything other than a military issued uniform Nat. What if he doesn’t like what he sees?” You were letting your nerves get the better of you. You knew you were being irrational.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes right in your face, “Well he’d be a fucking idiot then, wouldn’t he?”

When you walked in you made a beeline straight towards the bar. Not having a damn clue you’d drawn the eyes of the blonde pilot you’d grown to adore in your time back at Top Gun. The two of you just clicked. Two peas in a pod. He made you feel safe. You made him feel comfortable.

He, quite literally, couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Nat noticed. You didn’t. She’d make sure to point that out to you later.

Nat had to pull you away from the bar

Payback whistled when the two of you finally made it over, “Don’t you two look lovely. A little overdressed.” He quipped, digging a little?

Nat roller her eyes, “We’re going to a play after this.

“Would you look what he cat dragged in.” Bradley spoke up setting his drink down and taking a seat across from you, leaving the seat next to you for Jake whenever he wanted to join the group. Little did you know he was stalling because you quite literally took his breath away. He didn’t know how to not look like a dumbass in front of you.

“How nice Roos.” You rolled your eyes feeling yourself ease at the boys casual banter with the two of you. They weren’t making your feel great but not like shit either. Classic men.

He sighed, “You both look pretty. It’s just weird. We’re not used to seeing you guys look like women.”

You smiled, “I said the same thing!”

Nat groaned, “Please don’t encourage her boys.”

Jake then joined sliding in next to you giving you a soft smile before turning his attention towards Rooster across from you. He was trying his damnedest to not start right at you. You smelled beyond incredible it took all his damn willpower not to scoop you right on up for himself, simply irresistible.

The conversation flowed before Nat tapped her watch letting you know it was nearly time to go. You nodded in understanding trying to hurry up and finish your drink.

“Bagman you’ve been awfully quite.” Nat smirked trying to draw something out of the lovestruck man knowing it was her last chance for the night.

But the words that came out surprised even his fellow pilots who made light-hearted jokes, “Mama always said if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all.” Bob’s wide eyes said it all for the men in the group. That was just mean and so wholeheartedly untrue.

Your heart dropped immediately, was that how he really felt? You didn’t think you were ugly but damn did that comment dig deep. The rest of the group must’ve felt the tension growing between the two of you as they scattered instead of hyping the conversation up.

Nodding your head, you set your glass down on the nearest table, “I think we were ready to go, right Nat? Don’t want to get there late, they might not let us into the play.” Laughing nervously, you gave your friend the wide eyes indicating you needed to get the hell out of that bar, now.

“Yeah, you’re right Bee. We gotta get going.” She set her glass down too, “Later boys.” The two of you waved as you walked out right on out of the bar without a second glance and to her car.

When you got inside the safety of her vehicle you sighed pressing yourself back into your seat wishing it would just eat you alive, “That was mortifying Nat.”

She hummed in agreement, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Let me talk to him okay?”

But your groan indicated you did not really agree with her, no, “Nat, just leave it alone. He clearly doesn’t have feelings. He wouldn’t have been so fucking brutal tonight if he did.”

She shook her head while navigating through traffic, “He was just trying to look cool in front of his buddies. You know how men are. Irrational.” She tried leveling with you. You knew the argument was moot anyway, neither of you would give in. Never.

You sighed, “Whatever you say Nat.”

A knock on your front door woke you from the light sleep you’d fallen into while watching football on a lazy Sunday afternoon. You tried ignoring it, but the person kept knocking. Definitely not a delivery driver.

Pulling yourself up from the couch you swung open the door surprised to see the blonde pilot on the other side of the entryway. Your heart starting racing and your mouth suddenly felt very dry.

“Jake, what are you doing here?” Your wide eyes and defensive stance let him know how badly he’d fucked up. All that time he’d spent with you seemed to be flushed down the drain at a stupid half-brained comment he didn’t even really mean.

“I’m here to apologize.” He stepped forward.

“Oh.” You were a little confused. He’d seemed so adamant about he felt not moments ago.

You looked like a deer struck by headlights. Jake nudged your side trying to draw you out of your head, “Can I?” He asked.

“Do what?”

He frowned, “Apologize?” Did Nat put him up to this? Was it some sort of stupid, sick joke?

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. It felt awkward. So, unlike any other time you’d been with him. This felt forced. Uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry. I did not mean what I said. You have to believe me Bee. Please.” He went to grab your hand and you let him, he seemed sincere, “I got caught up in the moment. The guys were teasing me before you two got there looking as good as you did. And Jesus, did you look good Y/N. I just wanted them off my back and I took it out on you. And that isn’t right.” He grabbed your chin with his other hand seeing your eyes well up with a fresh set of tears that threatened to spill over.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry beautiful. Please. You have to know how highly I think of you. You’re everything and more love. Smarter than any woman or man I’ve met. Quicker than any pilot in the air. Prettier than any girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re it Y/N.” He whispered. That was all it took to in cry even though he asked you not to. This was the Jake you were used to. The Jake back at the bar was more like Hangman, an utter fucking dick. This was Jake. Your favorite sweet boy Jake. The one you’d fallen madly in love with over the years.

See you and Jake met at your first go around at Top Gun years prior. Jake had always had a soft spot for you. Especially after you waxed his ass so flawlessly in the air. It took him months to find a way to beat you. When he did you have him a high five. The competitiveness didn’t matter, your colleague was getting better. That meant better for everybody in the field.

But you were never available. Whether it was your long-term shithead of a boyfriend from college or some random fling the timing just never worked out. Then you were shipped off to the other side of the country and you lost touch.

Jake about lost his mind when he spotted you sitting next to Natasha the night before the first day at the Hard Deck. Rubbed his eyes and all, you just didn’t seem real. When he went up to talk to you he was quite frankly shocked to find you without a rock on your finger. You were a fucking catch, why weren’t you taken? It really confused him when he learned you were single. He was ashamed of the male population. But it meant one thing. Jake could focus on you and only you now. He didn’t need to fuck around with these meaningless one-night stands. He could find meaning with you.

When he wrapped his arms around you it just felt right. Even if you were upset with him you couldn’t help but to melt right into his loving embrace. You just felt so whole. So protected and secure. Like he’d never even let a bad thought cross your mind. But it was never suffocating. It was just right. Everything you needed when you asked. Jake was special and you knew it. You’d never let one little slip up crack the foundation the two of you had so delicately been pouring for the last few years.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled when you pulled away from his chest.

Jake frowned deeply. Using both his hands his pushed your wild hair away from your face, “What are you apologizing for sweetheart?”

You let out a breath trying to regain your normality, “Crying. Messing up your shirt.”

“You have to know I don’t give a damn about that Y/N. Are you okay?” He placed his palm on your cheek wrapping his fingers around your head gently. You nuzzled into him out of habit.

Closing your eyes you nodded towards him, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re here.” You admitted softly.

Using his other hand, he pulled you back into his embrace. He brought your head into his chest, “I’m so sorry lovie. You looked so stunning in that dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Payback said I was literally drooling.” He chuckled squeezing you softly.

You were enjoying every second of this sweetness between you and him. You’d learned slowly how he loved, through touch. He needed this as much as you did. As touch adverse as you’d been when you’d met him you’d grown to crave his every touch. Anytime, anywhere you’d let him grab ahold of you. You didn’t care, you wanted it more than anything. It blew your mind how he had changed you so wholly in that regard.

“It’s okay Jake.” You kissed his chest through his clothing. Something so innocent but sent him into a damn frenzy. He’d never had anybody do something quite so… sweet? Intimate? Love on him the way he wanted?

He knew it was officially over for him the moment you did that. Something you’d likely never remember doing but was now officially seared into his brain for forever, not that he was complaining. No, not at all.

“How’d I get so lucky to find somebody like you?”

You shook your head in his embrace, “Shush.”

He smiled knowing how hard it was to give you a damn compliment. Something he was going to work on with you. He knew he needed to do something major to really let you know how he felt, or you’d never believe it. He was tired of waiting. Tired of seeing you slip right through his grasp.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked knowing you’d never expect what was going to come out of his mouth next.

He wasn’t sure if was going to be able to tell you before he melted into a puddle seeing your sweet little doe eyes looking up at him, waiting, “Anything Jake. You know that.”

He tightened his hold around your waist before letting it all out, “You really are the most beautiful woman I know Y/N, inside and out. Fucking stunning. And you… you are so easy to love.” He smiled seeing your gaze on him, soaking in every single word, “What I’m trying to say is, I love you.” His thumb rubbed the skin where your shirt rode up sending shivers throughout your body.

“You what?” Your eyes widened as big as saucers as your voice raised an octave or two, certainly not expecting that confession.

“I love you.” He smiled, the words spilling out of his mouth much more freely than before. It felt fucking freeing to him to admit that to you.

Your eyes darted around his face before landing on his green ones. His beautiful green eyes, “You do?”

His smile could’ve melted you as equally as you seemed to be able to melt him, “I do. Very much so.” You not immediately darting away was a good sign. He could tell it was just taking you some time to process what the hell he’d just dropped into your lap.

“Oh, wow.” Biting your lip, you really tried of something better to say but that’s all that came to your mind.

He continued grinning seeing your brain short circuiting. You were rather expressive with your features, and he could see the confusion rise and fall. Adorable as ever. One of the many reasons he loved you so deeply, “Have I not made it obvious?” He asked, his smirk would’ve knocked you out had you not been clinging to him.

“I…” You paused realizing he had made it rather obvious. He called you lovie for God’s sake. Nat was right you were just blind to it. Not believing Jake could have actual feelings for you. You too had fought them off for years. You wanted him more than ever when you broke up with the douche bag all those years ago. But Jake was at a different stage in his life, or so you thought. He was bringing home random girls while you wanted a steady partner. It seemed incompatible. Had you actually talked though you would’ve learned he was just distracting himself from you. Two fucking idiots.

“Go on.” Jake urged you on, giving your hip a light squeeze.

You laughed softly letting the blush coat your cheeks for him to see. You didn’t have much to hide anyway, “I guess you have. I just haven’t noticed.” Smiling sheepishly, you added, “I am oblivious, you know that.”

He laughed pulling you fully into him, “You are lovie. You really are.” He kissed the crown of your head relishing in the moment. The pure simplicity of the moment made him feel the best he had in quite a long time.

“Jake?” You asked softly. Were you going to admit it to? Did you love him? That was easy, hell yeah you loved him. You’d loved him for a long time too. He showed you what a man was like. How a boyfriend should treat a girl. How to be loved. It was him. It was always going to be him. Your Jake.

“Yeah sweetheart?” He looked down using his free hand to stroke your hair. He didn’t really give a damn if you were going to say it back. You staying with him, letting him hold you was more than enough. It was all he needed.

But you had different plans. You were going to tell him. Had to tell him, “I love you too.”

His eyebrows rose in clear shock, “You do?” This time he was questioning you like he couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth. Certainly not prepared for that.

“I do. A whole lot.” You giggled feeling that same weight releasing off your chest.

He grinned hearing those words and that joyous sound, “Well that calls for one thing then.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

He smirked, eyes darkening just a shade, “May I kiss you love?

You nodded quickly before you could back out, “Please.” A sinful look crossed his face before he grabbed your face in his hands so gently it sent another shiver down your spine.

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[animeyanderelover]

Hi, could I request Itachi, Dabi and Narancia with a female s/o that is extremely insecure over her big nose? Thank you!

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, threats, isolation, female reader

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata @simplydlightfuldestiny @flaming-vulpix

S/o is insecure over her big nose

Uchiha Itachi

🍡You're far too harsh on yourself. It just makes Itachi sad when he sees how you constantly attempt to cover up your lower face by wearing masks but he doesn't force you to put them away, especially if you have had bad experiences in the past where bullies ripped covers away from you to make fun of your nose. After all he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable around him. He hates it even more when you talk low about yourself and bring up the argument that he wouldn't understand you because he is so handsome. So what if he is handsome according to you? Have you ever committed atrocities like he has? Is he a good person because he looks beautiful? He's the one supposed to feel terrible for kidnapping a good and beautiful person like you out of his own selfish desires. He keeps his frustration away from you though, remains patient. If he needs to dedicate hours of his day to discuss with you all the reasons why he loves you than he is fully committed to do it for you. If you do not believe him he is very much set on proving you wrong, he has stalked and observed you so intently that he is able to retell every habit and every moment that has made him fall in love with you even more.

Todoroki Touya

🔹Seriously? You think that you are ugly due to your nose? Shit, if you're ugly he must be a hideous abomination. Touya could almost consider it insulting that you have the nerve to talk shit about yourself whilst he is literally a burnt corpse walking. As soon as you start talking lowly about yourself he is absolutely joining you by talking self-deprecating about how awful he looks as well. Funnily enough you don't like when he talks about himself that way and he is always quick to return your complaints by retorting that he doesn't like listening to you either whenever you refer to yourself so negatively. If you can talk shit about yourself he is free to do so as well. Fuck, he has even more reasons to do it about himself considering that half of his body is barely held together flesh at this point. Such arguments usually always make you shut up pretty fast as if realising that he has it even worse than you. By all means, don't feel guilty when such thoughts cross your mind. As long as it serves its effect in stopping you from feeling as insecure about yourself as you normally tend to do Touya is quite content. You know, he and a lot of other people would have given a lot to look as normal as you do.

Narancia Ghirga

🍊​If you're feeling insecure about your big nose Narancia probably only heightens your anxiety but the poor boy is much too dense to notice that the constant attention he gives your nose makes you feel only worse. It's one of the first things that he pointed out when meeting you because it just stood out to him but he actually thinks that it's quite cute. He never realises that it's this constant attention on the part of your body you feel insecure about that makes you often uncomfortable around him, not until either someone from his gang or you yourself tell it to him very directly. Afterwards it does end up being worse though because now he feels like he has to constantly prove to you that you're beautiful. He constantly kisses your nose and when he introduces you to someone he always points out that you have a pretty nose and demands the other person to agree with him. Covering your face will absolutely not happen or else he might end up crying because he feels so upset that he is unable to make you feel beautiful about yourself. If you have any bullies he will turn into an absolut menace and terrorise them until they never show their face around you again.

[frenchtantan]

Okay, after that mini-date between q!Tina and q!Bagi, I have some gripes to settle regarding how some people have been reacting.

First and foremost, cc!Tina. Miss ma’am, I know you’ll probably never read this, but let me tell you, if I hear you one more time saying you’re not good at roleplay I will SCREAM! You are SO passionate and in the moment, so immersed, and you immediately level yourself with how into it the people you’re interacting with are. You’re not afraid to make your character show vulnerability, fear and sadness. This is PEAK roleplaying skills, and it’s so enjoyable to watch! Please never feel invalidated just because you don’t have a 60 pages Word document about your character. You’re SO talented, and your monologues from the mini-date are incredibly poignant.

Secondly, I wanna touch upon the notion that q!Tina is easily swayed. This has some truth to it, and it did show with q!Bagi most of all. Many times she changed an answer about a question or a topic because q!Bagi had a different one. However, those were all about menial things. “But what about her opinion about the Federation?” I hear you ask. Well, it’s true that the people she’s been hanging out the most with (q!Foolish, q!Jaiden and q!Ironmouse) are either pro or neutral towards the Federation. However, because they are still keeping her at arm’s length, they don’t go into too much details as to the why and how. q!Foolish and q!Jaiden especially have a mutual trust and share secrets that they’d never tell q!Tina, at least not now. As such, while at first simmering in a relatively Federation-friendly climate, it wasn’t such a big focus point, especially since she was so new. Like she said, she lived in blissful ignorance, and the people surrounding her didn’t really do anything to change that.

Then comes q!Bagi. Slowly but surely, they both develop a crush on each other, and as such, q!Tina wants to impress. She grasps at a small excuse to flip her view of the Federation as a way to do that, but again, in that moment, it’s not a big deal. And because they are very shy with each other and clumsily flirt, the seriousness of the topic is still somewhat behind a curtain, even though q!Bagi has been knee deep into the dark side of the island. The terrible truths and secrets, the violence, torture, betrayals, she’s seen it all already, but when around q!Tina, she puts on a brave face and acts all sweet, because it’s clear she likes her a lot! However, she does sometimes let a smidge of truth slip out, which q!Tina unconsciously hears and stores in her memory for safekeeping without thinking too much of it.

Finally comes the turning point. q!Bagi discovers q!Cellbit is her long lost brother, and he reacts badly to it, leaving her profoundly sad. q!Tina is present enough to start to see how complex her crush’s life is, through multiple days. After a setback, q!Bagi decides to invite q!Tina on the mini-date and fully opens up to her. Despite building up to it, this wave of information comes crashing down. q!Tina is hit with everything. But most importantly, she is confronted with how blissful her ignorance was, and she is SCARED, leading to her AMAZING monologue about it. However, this fully awakens her critical thinking, and she actually starts to reflect on the situation! Seriously, I don’t know how people didn’t see that! Multiple times through the mini-date, she not only expresses her honest opinion, but even does so when it CHALLENGES q!Bagi’s. She defends q!Foolish, q!Jaiden and q!Forever, she tells her that one of the Cucuruchos is nice, she questions the idea of leaving the island, the Federation’s desire to harm, and so on. At that moment, she’s not trying to impress anymore, she wants to understand, and suggesting otherwise is highly disingenuous, reductive even.

By the end, there isn’t even a real agreement reached on any of those questions! However, what becomes clear is that q!Bagi did something nobody has truly done yet for q!Tina: she opened her heart, and decided to be completely honest. For a while now, q!Tina had become jaded about who to trust, noticing how much the others were keeping secrets, even her close friends. It upset her, and made her act irrational. Yet q!Bagi, without any second thought, chose to trust her. Not to manipulate her, not to test her, but because she truly wanted q!Tina to know who she was. She did that out of respect, to give her all the keys to make the most informed decision about their relationship. Through some more heart-to-heart, they realize they both feel the same way about the others keeping secrets, and now they know they have each-other, at least for the time being.

This leads me to the third misconception: q!Foolish. Doozers, I love you guys. The past months, you’ve fought tooth and nail to make sure q!Foolish wasn’t mischaracterized by the fandom, and I fully support you for it. However, there is something you need to realize: the other cubitos are NOT the fandom. They shouldn’t know, CANNOT know his POV, or q!Jaiden’s. As a result, the hard truth is that due to q!Foolish’s chaotic nature and seemingly wavering loyalty, NOBODY apart from q!Jaiden actually trusts him with regards to Federation matters. He’s often filibusting, joking around, and deviating when it comes to these matters, he has shown to be ready to arrest people. He CHOOSES to act like that, and since others don’t know his endgame, you cannot in good conscience blame any of them when he does not appear trustworthy. Even q!BBH with whom q!Foolish has somewhat of an unspoken bond, doesn’t tell him everything. I know you all want q!Bagi to have a conversation with him to understand him, but it’s going to take way more than that for any islander (again, other than q!Jaiden) to see him the way you do, much less q!Bagi.

This includes q!Tina by the way. As she said during the date, he’s been keeping her at arm’s length, so she’s started doing the same. He may have good reasons to do so but she can’t know them. Now, as she also mentioned, this has become kind of a mutual understanding of what they’re willing to share, and while it remains so, their friendship is almost certainly not endangered. That being said, if it WERE to come to blows, you cannot fault her if she ends up siding with q!Bagi, who’s shown willingness to cross bridges he hasn’t. Again, this is the worst case scenario. She’s still defending him so it’s suuuuuper unlikely to happen.

So yeah, that’s about it! TL;DR

q!Tina might sometimes be easily swayed, but keep in mind that when things get serious, she does have a good head on her shoulders and is capable of critical thinking.

While it’s important for the fandom to understand q!Foolish, it’s equally crucial to realize he does not appear trustworthy to almost all islanders because they don’t have the information the viewers have.

[finniestoncrane]

Hello! Totally not personal ask here, haha.

How do you think Arkham Riddler (or/any other riddler) would react to reader being a people pleaser?

Like they will do things that said they wouldn't do just because someone asked them to do, or that they will go way out of their way to do things that will make The riddler less stressed or angry.

Thank you so much for the work that you do. 💕

People Pleasing Reader

Riddler Headcanons ok don't be so cute you are too nice thank you ;-; ALSO hello??? i can't believe that i, a people pleaser, have not considered this yet lmao 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: not very much!, slight insinuation of taking advantage of someone's kindness

btas

i think more than anything, he's have a few choice words for you, a bit of advice he'd like you to consider very seriously

because he's been in a position where his desire to please only led to him being used and mistreated

granted he was trying, most of all, to please himself, but the realisation that others were using it to their advantage with no consideration for him? it hurt

so he's convincing you to be wary of your tendencies, and reassuring you that he would never take advantage of your kindness

young justice

he'd be surprised that someone was so willing to do anything for him that it would definitely knock him back a little bit at first, but i think he'd settle into it pretty easily

of course he's still going to approach you with his eyes trained to the ground, shuffling his feet, and muttering in a hushed voice

but every day he'll get a little bit better at asking you to do things for him, and it won't be long before you're being surprised by just how intimate his requests become...

dano

it's strange how easily he's found he can charm people, given how much time he spent being overlooked and pushed around

and while you're maybe not the first to be lining up to buy matching military surplus boots and a mask, you're still more than happy to help him achieve his goals, even if they don't happen to align with your own morals

because who could say no to that stupid little face when he's got his wet eyes on and is asking you to help him torture someone to death? ;-;

gotham

it's people pleaser vs people pleaser, who will win?

i mean obviously poor sweet edward will, because as he's determined to make you happy

the back and forth between you both, doing your good deeds, owing and returning favours, offering any kind of assistance at any time, is a little bit ridiculous

but it means you're both living an existence that's almost devoid of any bother, living in complete and equal bliss, the true comfort for people pleasures

arkham

this isn't so much something he reacts to as much as it is something he expects from anyone who comes into contact with him in any way

if you're not there to serve him with undying and unquestioning devotion then what's even the point?

so your natural habit of bending to someone's will just to make sure they're comfortable will come in handy

especially if you're able to provide some well-deserved (and needed) stress relief before he gets to the point where he has to demand it from you

unburied

people pleasing goes well with his desire to be pleased constantly

to know that the minute he whines or looks even slightly sad that you're going to come running to him, pillows in hand, glass of freshly squeezed juice with ice, his favourite blanket, wearing that underwear he likes

he's a princess, well and truly, and it's a requirement he be treated this way

so the moment he finds out you're a bit of a people pleaser, to a fault some might say, he's using it to his advantage

telltale

what a terrible weakness for someone to have, and worst of all, you let the wrong man know about it

or are you so deeply entrenched in your compulsive need to make those you adore happy that you would knowingly put yourself at risk just to make sure he knew you were there for him, to do anything he asked of you?

either way, it's less people pleasing now, more "servant" because if he can get you to do his bidding with nothing more than a smile and a snap of his fingers, then he's not giving you up easily

[saninthebuilding]

when the rain pours, it dries - tewkesbury

summary: after a tough day, you find yourself sitting alone in the rain. typical movie scene, of course. however, in your time of despair, who is it that arrives to help you up? none of than dear old tewkesbury.

word count: 1k

warnings: rain, hurt/comfort, angst (?), emotions, pre-established relationship, living together, L-bombs, tewkesbury being the sweetest boy

a/n: rewatched enola holmes 2 and i had the urge to write about tewkesbury. so i wrote about him.

hope you enjoy it! <3

~

it was a rainy evening, and i was sitting on one of the benches that were spread out in the park near the lord's office.

without an umbrella.

of course, it had not been my intention originally to get drenched by the downpour. however, i had been out trying to find clues for my newest case and had ended up losing track of time. as a result, i was now stuck sitting here, wet and cold and so utterly alone.

today had been absolutely terrible.

i had been put onto a new case only a few days ago, yet i had still not found any clues. the client had barged into my office early this morning, ruining my so far perfectly good day, screaming at me for being useless and wasting his time, money and hope.

i was trying- i really was. and things like these do not just happen overnight. but the couple heard none of it, calling me a liar, fraud and a thief, before walking out the door.

for some reason, it was too much for me.

on top of the rent being due for the apartment that tewkesbury and i shared, and all the mental strain i was feeling with mother being gone and the fact that i would never be as good as sherlock and tewkesbury being so busy with the lords, i think i had reached my breaking point after that.

which was why i was now sitting here on this bench in the rain, on the verge of tears.

oh come on y/n, don't be ridiculous.

but it was too late, because tears were already starting to stream down my face.

the fact that the rain was covering them up was a small blessing.

sniffling, i shoved my face into my hands and cried, irritation giving way to the disappointment and sadness that had building up for weeks now.

just great.

suddenly i heard footsteps coming up the path, only to stop right in front of me. then the rain stopped hitting the top of my head, and i looked up to see an umbrella covering me. a hand gripped the handle, and the person bent over from beneath, revealing tewkesbury standing in front of me.

he was holding an umbrella- a smart decision in this weather, and was staring at me in confusion.

"y/n?"

i instantly got off the bench, embarrassed that he had found me in such a state. however in my rush, i ended up stumbling and tipping forward, hands catching the front of tewkesbury's coat for support.

he let out a surprised grunt, his free arm coming to wrap around my waist, catching me before i fell.

"by god, y/n, you're soaked."

i raised my head to see him staring at me, eyes wide. "uh- sorry," i mumbled, righting myself and looking away. mentally scolding myself, i rubbed the raindrops off my face and turned to meet his gaze with a forced smile.

"hello tewkesbury. lovely weather, is it not? i was just out here collecting my thoughts. what brings you here?"

i could tell i was speaking too fast, and that my story was completely ridiculous, because  i wrung my hands together in an attempt to calm myself.

"are you alright, y/n?" tewkesbury asked, seeing right through my sorrowful attempt at lying. "you seem...a little off."

"oh no, i'm perfectly fine, i assure you. absolutely wonderful. just enjoying the rain."

he raises an eyebrow, skeptical from under his unnecessarily large black umbrella. seriously, who made that thing? he could fit 5 people in there.

and then there was the matter of him.

how could he look so handsome an such an ungodly hour?

"so, um... what exactly are you doing here?" i asked, hoping he would just answer my question instead of worrying about me.

i hate it when he worries.

he sighed, taking the bait. "i was out at the lords' all day, remember? there was that meeting to discussion the formation of a new bill, so i only just got released."

i cringed, realizing he had told me this both last night and this morning before he left.

oh no, i've completely lost it.

why couldn't i do anything right?

i could feel the tears rising again as my throat began to close up, and i let out a shaky breath.

tewkesbury noticed.

gentle fingers tilted my chin upward, and i saw him looking down at me with concern etched on his face.

"y/n, have you been crying? your eyes are red and you sound upset."

"what? no...no! i'm alright tewkesbury, i-"

my breath hitched mid-sentence and i could feel myself starting to panic.

not again.

tewkesbury cupped my cheek, before pressing his forehead to mine. the warmth of him was a shock to my cold and wet skin, causing me to flinch.

"oh y/n..."

tewkesbury pulled away and motioned for me to take hold of the umbrella, before removing his coat.

"here, put this on."

i opened my mouth to argue, but the look on his face was more than enough for me to be quiet and slip it on.

"thank you" i whispered, sheepish at how much he was having to do because of me.

tewkesbury pulled me into his arms without a word, simply letting the sound of the rain surround the both of us.

after some time had passed, he spoke up.

"truly, y/n. you must understand that you may lean on me if you need to."

"but i-"

"please, y/n. just trust me. i am always here for you if you need me, but that requires you to let me. i cannot help you if you do not let me."

i buried my face into his chest in an attempt to hide the tears that were filling my eyes.

"i don't want to burden you with my worries..." i mumbled, voice muffled by the cloth of his waist coat.

tewkesbury sighed. shifting his grip on the umbrella, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to the top of my head.

"you're never a burden, my love. not to me."

despite my best efforts not to cry, tears began to find their way down my cheeks, and i hugged him tight.

"i love you tewkesbury."

"i love you y/n."

[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing V

Master list here (includes chapter links, summary, and character bios)

Warnings: referenced explosion, injury, wounds, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, hurt/recovery, caretaker and whumpee

Something had changed about Halle. Dylan wasn’t sure what had changed, just that something had. He had, very surprisingly, woken the next day—he could only assume because of the change in light—to Halle sitting next to him. He lay on his stomach and everything hurt.

“There you are,” Halle said gently. “How are you feeling?”

Like I had been at the epicenter of a bomb going off and had thrown myself on top of Thomas to prevent him from dying instantly. “I’ve….been better.”

Halle smirked. “I’m sure you have. But seriously, how’s the pain level?”

Dylan considered a moment. The pain is manageable, only about a six out of ten, so likely a fifty out of ten for a normal human. “Not bad. Thanks for patching me up,” Dylan said as he braced to roll off the table. He wanted to go to bed and sleep for a week. He doubted the Authority would give them a night.

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going? You need to stay put, Dylan.”

What’s the point of staying put? Everything hurts. You don’t care. No one cares. The Authority certainly doesn’t care. “I’ll be ok. I just want to go to bed.”

Halle surged forward. “Let me help you, please.”

Dylan stared at Halle. Halle watched him with her green-grey eyes, and Dylan saw something that he hated worse than anything else: pity. Halle pitied him. I am a piteous thing, aren’t I? “Why? Why help me? Why be kind to me?” What does she want? People are only ever kind when they want something from me. And I just have nothing left to give at this point.

The pity faded from Halle’s gaze, replaced by uncertainty. “I just think you need to rest, Dylan. Let me help you.”

Dylan sighed. Why? Why bother? They’re just going to send me out there again to get hurt. To hurt others. And then you can just patch me up again. “Thank you, Halle.”

“What?” “Thank you. I’m not being very gracious. You’re….you’re being very kind to me.” Dylan allowed Halle to help him off the table. The truth was he really did hurt. Maybe Halle was right. I really am hurt. I do need rest.

“You weren’t exactly the best patient last time. This is the only way I think I’m going to be able to be sure you actually take the time to recuperate.” Halle repositioned the pillows on the bed so Dylan could lay on his stomach. “Hang tight,” Halle said quickly and she hurried from the room.

So much for helping me. Dylan closed his eyes as he lay his head down on his folded arms. He was so tired. Everything hurt. But what hurt the most was that he had deluded himself into believing saving Thomas would change things. I did this to myself. I created this cage. I know things won’t change. I should just take solace in my time alone. That’s all I have. Is my time alone. It’s dark here. Dark and quiet. So terribly quiet. Am I even alive? I’m barely human. Less than human. Pain is what I have. That’s all I’m good for. Pain and darkness.

Halle bounded back into the room. “I wanted to talk to you about this book! We can finally have a book club meeting since you’ve given me so much to read. You have all the time in the world to explain yourself to me.”

Dylan couldn’t help but smile. “Did you like it?”

Halle pulled up a chair next to Dylan’s bedside. “Of course I did! But why did it have to end that way?”

“What way?”

“It was so sad. Everything was going great. Until it wasn’t. And then it ended. Where’s the happy ending you promised me?” Halle shook the book for emphasis.

“Happy endings are never promised, Halle. Surely you know that.” God you are innocent. I should hope you quit soon. This place will turn your soul black and rotten.

“But this is a book! A book! I can have a happy ending in that!” Halle put the book down.

Dylan opened his mouth to reply, but Halle interrupted him. “All of these books,” Halle pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, “have terrible endings! Things don’t get better in this one. Everything the character worked for is destroyed in this one. And this one,” Halle pointed to the last book on the list before the one Halle had just finished reading, “this one has the happy ending I was promised. Only for it to be ripped away in the last sentence! It’s awful!”

“Hey,” Dylan said with mock indignation, “that one was one of my favorites.”

“Dylan you need better books. Better yet you need to watch some…” Halle stopped speaking, her cheeks reddening.

“I know what movies are Halle. I used to watch them once upon a time.” I’ve been here more years that I haven’t. But I was human. Once. I had human desires, hopes, and dreams. Once. Now….well, I don’t get to have any of those things.

“Why don’t you have a TV now? I would have figured you would have quite the film collection since you are so pretentious about books.”

Dylan looked away, not wanting to see the horror in Halle eyes when he spoke. “I’m….weapons aren’t allowed anything with an information network. I….I read what they allow me to read. And sometimes I can’t even do that.” I am a monster that is too dangerous to be trusted with knowledge. Even though I have never done anything to hurt anyone the Authority hasn’t willed to be hurt. I save our people. I am a monster of their creation. Their greatest shame. Their greatest weapon.

“Oh.” Halle’s watch buzzed. “I have to go.”

Before Dylan could reply, Halle left. I would leave, too. Why stay around someone who isn’t allowed to watch TV? Who isn’t allowed out. Who has to wear these damned cuffs twenty-four seven. Dylan sighed. It was all too much, this life.

The next time Dylan woke, the sun had retreated behind the clouds and Halle sat in the chair by his bedside. “You’re back,” Dylan observed.

“You talk in your sleep, did you know that?” Halle’s face was guarded, her voice flat.

Dylan felt his cheeks heat. “Do I talk about anything interesting?”

“Who’s Owen?”

No one you will ever get to meet if I have anything to do with it. “No one of consequence.”

Halle arched a dark brow. “You are a terrible liar, Dylan.”

Dylan didn’t reply. I don’t need to be good at lying. No one believes me when I speak the truth anyway.

“No matter, you don’t have to tell me.” Halle’s eyes flicked to the door. “I may have smuggled something in here for you.” Halle pulled a laptop out. “It doesn’t have any internet access. Or ability to do that. But it does have the top films of the last two years on here. I…I didn’t know how long it had been since you had seen a movie, so two years is what you get. For now.”

No one has done anything like this for me. Ever. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Halle’s eyes filled with pity once more. “Everyone deserves kindness, Dylan. Every human has inherent dignity and worth and deserves to be treated with kindness.”

Ah, but I’m not even human, Halle. “I don’t think I qualify as human, Halle.” “You were once. You’re just as human as me. Maybe you just have some extra skills imbued into you.”

Imbued. That’s a good word for it. Tortured and experimented on is more like. “Thank you. I’m…I’m not used to people treating me kindly, Halle. Thank you very much.”

Tags: @beomsstudio @mousepaw @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @eyehartart @corbytheking

@seysposts @cosmic-butterflys @wormjerky @godnessofmagic

@daddyslittlestgirlll

@thatlittlefirestarter @defire @jthecalmone @shook-skull @sagencrafts

@theforeverdyingperson @bilightningwhumper @cryptid-potato @fox-fox234 @deepfriedpan

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@lexiebiss-blog @whumplump @geozone430 @jumpywhumpywriter

[blingblong55]

Science- 141 + Los Vaqueros

This is based on a request:

Im sorry if this is such a downer but im in a really bad place rn andi need something to cope but can I have Los Vaqueros + 141 seeing their best nurse crying because their parents called them a failure for dropping out a doctor and wasting money and now their nurse thinks she's useless. The extent of their sadness is to the point of a seriously bad mental breakdown

Angst?, some fluff, platonic relationship, F!Reader

It's just science Don't let it break you down

You had become the favourite nurse for all of the 141 and Los Vaqueros men. So much so that in any mission where they had to go to a new country, you'd have to go as well. They trusted you with anything and everything, no doctor or other medical staff could get through them like you did. The one man that trusted you the most was Ghost, before he took his mask off back in Mexico, you had already seen that face, hundreds of times.

141 and Los Vaqueros, are working together in a new assignment, you of course were told to go with them. But after the last mission, you found it hard to concentrate on much. Things were becoming more difficult, and best believe there was a reason for this.

You have been a nurse in the military for about 5 years now, the things you've learned in you field, the memories you have created and people you've met are something you thank you job for. But about a year into you working as a nurse, you started to look into becoming a doctor. Something you always dreamed of becoming, and to be honest, it was a job position your family saw you in. Once you go into medical school, the worst stress you had gone through, it took a year and a half of your life to quit that dream.

You only had told your family you were pursuing that dream and of course Laswell, who moved your schedule around so you could attend school. On a great day, well at the beginning, your family called you.

They had received the news you had quit med school, and best believe they kept yelling at you. The text messages were also no good,

Mum: how dare you!!!!

Mum: we worked hard to give you a good life and education and the only thing we asked was for you to become a doctor and you failed us!

Dad: You are such a disappointment

Dad: a literal disgrace to my family

For days on end, the calls and messages kept coming through. Every day you'd start with a headache, reading through their shit messages, crying before breakfast and acting as if you only slept so little. It was getting out of hand, you started to get more and more tired.

You questioned your role in the military, asking yourself if you were even good enough to help people. But, you could cope with all that, it was easy to do it. It had become so usual to feel these things and ask all of these questions to yourself, it no longer fazed you. You'd jog or run to get this energy out of you.

Until tonight.

Echo team had been sent to a mission, a terrible one. Everyone came back with at least one injury. Blood on the floor as a few soldiers were dragged into beds. Everyone was woken up, Delta and Charlie team were sent to finish the mission. But as you and the other medical personnel ran through the med-bay, helping anyone that required assistance, you had found yourself crying in some supply closet.

Soap and Rudy had heard about the hectic night all of the medical teams were going through and the first person they thought of was you. So, naturally for the two men, they wanted to show you how much they appreciated the job you were doing. They made you some rather warm coffee and your favourite, carrot cake, well more like fairy cake/cupcake.

For about 30 minutes, they went around med-bay, calling and asking for you. Most shrugged and jogged back to some other rooms, others pointed in different directions. And thats when they heard your cry. They knew the stressed you put into tonight, but they didn't quite understand it, so they called for backup.

The rest of 141 and Alejandro were all waiting for the right time to open that door. One single knock and they couldn't hear you, "Hey kid, its us...can we come in?"

You unlock the door, the second you see Price, your arms wrapped around him as you hugged him. You sobbed and mumbled some words he couldn't quite make out. His hands patting and rubbing your back. Your sobs becoming louder as he whispers, "It's okay, kiddo. Let it out, we're here."

The other men just stayed quiet and stared. Mental breakdowns were normal in the military, the stress and pressure you are put through is beyond what civilians can go through. So, in some sad way, they all understood. Slowly, priced took you by the hand and guided you out of the closet in which you had spent at least an hour crying and laughing at yourself at.

Once they reached their part of base and into the common room, you stay there, arms crossed, a pillow being held.

"Lass," Soap said in a soft and gentle voice as he was the first to break the silence, "can I ask, what caused this?" He always cared so much for you, after all, you had become his best girl, and the only person to tolerate his banter.

"I....I think...no, I know I don't belong here."

"Belong where?" Alejandro asks.

"Here."

Ghost chuckles, he sits down and pats your leg, "I don't belong here, Soap, Gaz, and sure as hell Rudy doesn't either," he sighs and pauses, his finger at your chin as he makes you look at him, his other hand caressing your cheek and wiping your tears, "and my beloved, I know you don't belong here too." His voice carrying sincerity.

"Price and I, we may have our years of experience, but," Alejandro sits next to you, "sometimes things get hard, it happens."

"We can only take so much before we break, my dear." Gaz sits across from you.

"What caused this?" Rudy asked,

You sigh and look at the pillow, playing with the edges of it before answering, "a...a while ago I decided to become doctor," you paused before feeling like you were disappointing them, "I only lasted a year and a half in med school."

Price understood, in a way, why you had that mental breakdown.

"Y'know, I didn't become captain so easily."

"I failed a test and re took it well over 13 times before they made me colonel." Alejandro confesses

"And he made me the subject of that frustration." Rudy laughed a little.

"It was yer parents, wasn't it, lass" Soap spoke up, he and Gaz knew the story.

You, overworking yourself to make them proud, although that never came around. The word "proud", was never said to you, thats why you over accomplish things and thats why you are here in a couch, crying and being comforted by the men you have grown to call a family.

You look at soap, ghost's hand still rubbing your cheek as he wipes the tears away. "Yes."

Soap gets up and goes to you, kneeling in front of you as he looked you in the eyes, "You were born into a family that doesn't always appreciate you. But one day things are going to be very different."

He stood up, held your hand and gestured for the others to follow his lead, "c'mere, my bonnie." He kissed your forehead and hugged you, the other men doing the same.

At least 30 seconds after they gave into this group hug, gaz spoke first, "I don't mean to say this in a bad way, but...I think she gets it, hug over."

You chuckled and they pulled away, Price and soap stayed though.

"We love you kiddo, your place in this team is the most valuable." Price kissed your cheek and pulled away, not Soap, this was his excuse to show you his appreciation for you.

"We love ya so so much, but I do love ya more," he kissed your forehead once more before looking into your eyes, "my very best gal." He winks and wink back, something you two have been doing after each moment like this, although this time, the other witnessed it.

it's just science Don't let it scare you now

-----

A/N: Yes, I did use that Matilda quote...shut it..anyways..love ya<3

Tags: @anonymuslydumb (love ya, pookie bear<33333)

[cozyqueerchaos]

Protective Sonic Sonadow edition hc’s?👀💕✨

EEEEE ANON U ARE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE <3 - sonic often fusses over shadow's injuries (which shadow is v unused to since he heals)!! shadow will come home with a gaping wound and sonic will freak out and force him to sit down and let him bandage it lol - on that note, he's very gentle with shadow outside of fights (which often leads to more fights haha) - sonic hates all government bullshit but he tries extra hard to be a dick to GUN agents, on shadow's behalf. shadow says it's unnecessary but GUN doesn't know they're dating so there's no real need to put a stop to it :> - sonic will drape himself over shadow when he feels like shadow's in danger. shadow will be talking to some asshole and/or villain and sonic will walk over, rest his chin on shadow's shoulder from behind, and give them the most threatening smile you've ever seen in ur life - they definitely argue about who gets to give who their jacket when it rains

BONUS,, excerpt from a fic i may or may not ever finish:

The edges of Shadow’s lips quirk, annoyance falling away to reveal Sonic’s fucking amazing boyfriend who worries way more than is really necessary. “Sounds like a good way to kill an afternoon,” Shadow says, then looks very much like he regrets that word choice. 

His face falls, not back into anger but definitely not amused, either. Something sad and quiet. Something Sonic sees more often than the rest of the world ever gets to; the traumatized mess of a person Sonic has fallen terribly, blessedly in love with.

“Hey,” Sonic says, and Shadow raises his eyes from the floor to refocus on him. His arms are crossed, as they always are the second Shadow begins feeling unsafe, but if anything it makes him appear more vulnerable. “I’m okay, yeah? I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”

At least, he hopes not. But who can say, really? They live strange lives.

Shadow makes a pained noise, hands flying up to his quills. He glares at the ceiling like it’s personally wronged him, and it takes Sonic far too long to realize he’s trying not to cry. “That’s not- you know that’s not what I’m upset about.”

“I do?” Sonic asks, because he really fucking doesn’t.

Shadow stops, lowering his hands. He blinks, once, eyes wide and a little bit glassy. “...seriously?”

Sonic shrugs helplessly. He sort of wants to stand up and pull Shadow into his arms until that look is nothing but a bad memory, but he gets the feeling a hug may not be welcomed at this precise moment.

“Oh my god,” Shadow says disbelievingly. He doesn’t sound angry, just… bewildered. “Sonic. You jumped in front of a bullet for me.”

Sonic pauses, thinks back to earlier that day. Huh, yeah, that might’ve happened, but- “I didn’t get shot, though?”

“That’s not the point. There’s a difference between living dangerously and actively throwing yourself in harm’s way.”

“I was protecting you!” Sonic protests, but Shadow’s already waving him off.

“I’ve told you, I heal, you should always allow me to take hits-”

“I’m not gonna let you get hurt,” Sonic snarls, rage surprising even him. Shadow pauses in his rant, eyeing Sonic warily. “And you can’t heal if you’re dead.”

Shadow stands there for a long moment. He stares at Sonic with those steady crimson irises, all unearthly calm, and then says, completely serious, “I would always choose you over me.”

Sonic’s rage dies in his throat, and then it’s back twice as strong. “Well, that makes two of us, faker. Of course I’d die for you.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Sonic realizes it a millisecond too late. If Shadow was trying not to cry before, now he’s failing at it. “I don’t need more people dying for me, you idiot!” Shadow yells, rubbing at his eyes before they can get any glassier.

[crowwyrmm]

I wrote an angsty blurb about Jean and Harry so I'm dumping it here. Might turn it into a full fic eventually.

enjoy ↓

"What is this? Some kind of fucking joke?" The man's eyes are dark and cold. He's leaning against the side of his door, arms crossed.

[Empathy] He seems startled to see you on his doorstep- and not overly pleased.

[Perception : Vision] He's wearing ill-fitting trousers and a dark blue shirt with long sleeves. There's something odd about seeing him without his uniform.

[Electrochemistry] It feels intimate.

"No. No jokes. I just... I was hoping we could talk? Over coffee, maybe?"

"Why do you have that?" He pointed to the small pot in your hands.

"Oh!! It's a gift- for you! It's a cute little cactus, with a flower blossom too, look-"

Jean opened his mouth to say something, but you were still going.

"You don't have to worry about watering it all the time, it's prickly-- but cool, and it's very resilient. It reminded me of you."

Jean raises his eyebrows, his lips pressing into a tight line. Silence falls between the two of you.

You feel a crushing weight in your chest. And your palms are sweating.

"Uh-huh.... thanks." There's an edge to his voice as he takes the potted plant and looks it over. His face is hard to read, but it looks like something in him caved. He sighs heavily. "Alright, fine. Come in.”

[Composure] This is going better than you thought it would. Just keep it cool, don't freak out.

[Reaction Speed] RUN before the scary man with the sad eyes makes you feel horrible about yourself again!

[Inland Empire] No. He needs this, just as much as you do.

You follow Jean inside, quietly observing the cosy wooden furniture. A painting of a horse hangs on the wall above a worn leather couch. You take a seat at the tiny dining table, nervously twiddling your thumbs.

Jean is in the kitchen. He sets the cactus on the windowsill in front of the sink and starts preparing a pot of coffee. You can hear the sizzle of the pot as the scent fills the air. He exits and takes a seat at the table across from you.

“What do you want?” His voice is as sharp as his gaze. Anger flares up behind his stoney eyes.

“I wanted to apologise to you, for all the bullshit I've put you through.” Your words are soft.

The man narrows his eyes. “Oh please!” He scoffs, “Do you seriously think I haven't heard this bullshit before?” His shoulders grow rigid.

“But–”

“Yes, I know! You're the sorriest goddamn cop who ever lived. This isn't the first time you've shown up grovelling on my doorstep.” A scowl is written across his face.

“Jean…” Your voice cracks, “I don't… I can't remember what I did to make you feel this way, just that it was horrible.”

“Oh yes. Let me help you, give you a little run-down- maybe?” Before you have a chance to object, Jean continues, “You permanently crippled a man in a fit of blind rage, a month ago. You went undercover to sleep with prostitutes and then arrested them. When a woman accused you of harassing her you tried to get her child taken away. You– you fucking leave a trail of destruction wherever you go, and it's always been my job to clean up after you.” His voice is shaking with rage, his fists clenched on the table in front of him. “I can keep going.”

God… did I really do all of that?

[Half Light] You did. You can still remember the sound of bones cracking.

“You don't need to.” There's a growing pit in your stomach. You start feeling a little ill. “I already know that I've done terrible things, I've spent weeks rediscovering every awful thing I've ever done for myself!” A heavy sigh escapes you. “Listen. I wish I could’ve been a better person, and a better partner to you– but I wasn't. All I can do now is try to move forward and… prove to you that I can be better.”

The words feel familiar and bitter in your mouth.

Jean crosses his arms tight to his body, still scowling. Silent rage radiates from him, but he says nothing.

“I have a fresh set of eyes, a new outlook on life. They say people have to hit rock bottom before they'll change. That was my rock bottom, Jean. I'm a changed man, ready to take accountability for my life.”

Jean shakes his head, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Do you think I’m a moron? That may have worked on me when we were young men, but not anymore. I've heard it all before. There is nothing left for you to say.” He pauses, briefly, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes. “Guys like you don't change, Harry. You might be able to bewitch this new little partner of yours, lure him in with your honeyed lies and empty promises. But not me. I'm not your emotional dumping ground, go see a fucking psychiatrist.”

[all-or-nothing-baby]

i've said similar before (as have countless others on here before me) but i'm taking a moment to say this again:

IT'S OKAY TO LIKE MEAN/BAD/HORRIBLE AND EVEN JUST DOWNRIGHT PURE EVIL CHARACTERS

and i think it's wildly stating the obvious to say the following but apparently there are still some folks who need to hear it:

CHARACTERS AND THE STORIES THAT THEY'RE FROM ARE NOT REAL; THEY ARE ALL MADE UP BECAUSE STORIES ARE MAKE-BELIEVE AND CRAFTED FOR OUR ENTERTAINMENT

irl, i seriously dislike mean people. i despise bullies. i can't think of anything worse than a person who does 'evil' deeds to others and enjoys it. granted, i can at times end up feeling sorry for some of these arseholes bc a lot of the time there are genuine reasons for their poor behaviour; sadness/trauma/mental illness/etc. but that isn't me dismissing that behaviour, i'm just trying to have some understanding and empathy for their suffering because it's clear that it's effecting their humanity, y'know? it's often a sad reality, but does not mean i would excuse a person treating others badly.

STORIES ARE NOT REALITY

the characters from the books/tv show/movie/play/podcast etc that you like are not real. they are dreamt up to help us learn lessons from a young age, to make us laugh at their stupidity, to help us see that those who have found themselves on a dark path are mostly there because something terrible happened to them. these characters are brought to life for us in sometimes terrible forms—those truly dreadful villains—to help us work vicariously through emotions we all suffer with from time to time, the irrational feelings we can have of revenge or world domination lol. there is anger that we, as a race, all have to deal with, intrusive thoughts that we all sometimes struggle with. when we feel ourselves wanting the badguys in the movies to win, it can help us to manage these kinds of real life feelings we suffer, and it might mean we can learn how to deal better.

it's like wanting to punch someone. i would personally never actually want to do that—but occasionally as humans we might feel like we want to.

DOING THINGS LIKE USING A PUNCHBAG OR AGGRESSIVELY CHOPPING WOOD CAN BE THE SAME KIND OF REPLACEMENT ACTIVITY AS ENJOYING A MORALLY BAD CHARACTER. IT IS TAKING A FEELING AND RELEASING IT SAFELY WITHOUT DOING ANYBODY ANY ACTUAL HARM

also, none of us are perfect creatures! none of us. liking a bad or morally grey character can sometimes be because you might see some of their toxic traits in yourself, and feel better about the fact that even though you have faults, at least you're not as bad as they are. or maybe you know somebody like the character, someone who—even though their actions are wrong and you don't agree with them—has had a terrible life and you have some understanding of why they behave in the way they do. maybe the character helps you understand that person more and have more empathy for them and others like them?

AND SOMETIMES BAD GUYS ARE JUST GOOD FUN

baddies get to do the things we sometimes wish we could! who doesn't occasionally wish they could do a michael douglas d-fens in falling down?! or have the whole world kneel at their feet as loki does?! or be so be clever and cunning you can get away with any criminal plan you damn well choose like james moriarty?!

even the 'pure evil' characters in media are written so that we love to hate them, otherwise we wouldn't care about what happens to them, and caring about the story and it's characters is the whole point. and even if you just wholeheartedly love them—like you completely adore those vile bastards, regardless of all their evil deeds—that's okay! they're not real. just because you enjoy a character like hannibal lecter doesn't necessarily mean you want to murder and eat people, you just like a character who does terrible things because they have been written to be liked.

IT IS ENTIRELY NORMAL TO BE ENVIOUS OF AND/OR SIMPLY ENJOY A VILLAIN, BECAUSE THERE ARE SHADOWS AND REFLECTIONS OF OURSELVES, ALL OF US, HOWEVER BIG OR SMALL, IN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM

so, the paramount thing to remember is:

VILLAINS AND BADDIES AND MEANIES IN MEDIA ARE! NOT! REAL! THEY ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS AND IT IS ABSOLUTELY FINE TO ENJOY THEM BECAUSE THAT IS THE VERY THING THEY WERE CREATED FOR

anyway, thank you for coming to my ted — *gets shot by the bad guy*

[midorishinji]

Disappearing act - chapter XVII

Geto observed her more carefully, trying to decide whether she was being serious or not. — Killing non-sorcerers? — It's an option, but I don't take it seriously. Do you? — Yuki pressed him with a loaded question. Suguru Geto thought of them all — Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Riko, Kuroi, his parents, Satoru — and his chest filled with an unbearable pain, but also an incredibly monumental love, so much that it felt like it would stretch and burst at the seams of his heart that could not contain it. He thought of his father again, reading him "Night on the Galactic Railroad" when he was young, and he thought of Satoru reading his own copy now during his leisure nights. He thought of Giovanni and Campanella, and of the Scorpio of the night sky, and of the nobility of sacrifice, of setting yourself on fire to warm the world.

Satosugu ｜Finalized｜Long fic｜Also being published in Portuguese and on AO3

Chapters: I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI - XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII

Chapter XVII: you are more to me than any of them has any idea

Some situations are truly inexplicable. If a year ago someone had told Suguru Geto that he was in love with his best friend, he would have laughed at that hypothesis — Satoru was selfish, annoying, frivolous, had terrible manners, and yet he was the person he trusted and respected the most for being paradoxically altruistic, courageous, challenging, fair, funny, entertaining and so many other qualities that only he seemed to see, but that was completely different from falling in love, that's what Geto would have said. Despite this, there he was, sitting on the bed of Satoru Gojo, heir to the Gojo clan, as they watched “Love Letter” on the night of his birthday, and Satoru fought with all his strength not to cry, a losing battle.

He had never imagined Satoru as being the type of person who cried watching sad movies, but in a way, that didn't surprise him; people who smile the most are usually the ones who hide their suffering even deeper, that's what his mother had once told him, and he knew that this applied especially well to Satoru. Always keeping everything to himself, disguising pain with cynicism and sarcasm, carrying the burden of being the strongest alone. But around him, Satoru allowed himself to be vulnerable, to just be himself.

In the film, Hiroko shouted to the mountains, hearing the echo of her own voice: — How are you? I'm doing fine... — at the same time Itsuki Fujii whispered weakly in a hospital bed the same words. The two repeated the same thing, again and again, Fujii increasingly fragile, Hiroko increasingly desperate, tears streaming down her face and emotion choking her voice. They were both mirrors of each other, tied to the person who united them forever, who was now buried in the mountain to which Hiroko screamed at dawn. No grand declaration of love, no grand gestures, nothing pompous, because “I love you” is often “how are you?”, “did you eat?”, “you need to sleep”, “I thought of you”, “ I miss you”, “let's do something together” and so many other variations, like a secret shared between two people, a specific language that only two understood.

Satoru wiped away some insistent tears, looking away from the screen as he pretended to clean his glasses. It wasn't one of his most convincing performances, and he was aware of that. His chest hurt so much it felt like it was going to explode, because a person can only keep a secret for so long before they’re consumed completely, and he was reaching his limit. Being so close to Suguru that his bodies were touching, and at the same time so far away, was something that hurt him, shattered his nerves, tore his heart apart, messed with his head. So close, and at the same time so far apart. And Suguru, the always patient, calm, gentle, fair, docile Suguru, certainly pretended not to notice so as not to hurt him even more, because at that point, there wasn't a single person on this entire damn planet who hadn't noticed that Satoru Gojo was red with embarrassment whenever they hugged, trembling with terror and excitement at his touch, and lost himself in ramblings whenever he felt nervousness untie his tongue in completely random monologues.

He knew he needed to say something. That swallowing those same words over and over again was killing him inside, suffocating him with this love that bloomed inside his chest until there was no room for anything else. And even then, he couldn't say anything. When he parted his lips, they dried up, anxious, and his tongue became limp, coward, unable to articulate anything, then he fell silent again.

Suguru rested his head on his shoulder, the gesture that was repeated so many times with the roles reversed, which made Gojo's heart skip a beat. Out of kindness, he didn't say anything about Satoru's soft heart, who was moved like a child by a romance movie. — You were right, Satoru. This film is really sad.

— Do you think it's true, Suguru? That we fall in love with a person for the first time, and look for them everywhere else afterwards?

Gojo wanted the answer to be “no”. That he would say “this is too dramatic”. That he’d say “once you get over it, it stops hurting”. He wished he was wrong, like he never had wished for before, even though he knew the true answer in his heart.

— I think so too. I've been thinking about that since you told me that day, and I think it's true. Before you said it, I had never noticed how I always compare others to the person I like. Sometimes someone does something, and I think “he would do the same”, or “he is also kind like that”, or “he would do it differently, in another way”, and after I realized it, I can no longer deny it, there's no way to escape. — Geto said, his eyes focused on the television screen. The white snow of the mountains filled everything except for the red spot on Hiroko's sweater, red as blood.

He.

— Oh. — Satoru murmured, surprised. His face had the most intense expression of panic he had ever had in his entire life, calculating all the implications of a pronoun.

— I hope you don't mind, but I bought you another gift for your birthday. You devoured my Natsume Souseki collection, so I bought you a copy of “Heart”. — I offer my heart to you, was what he wanted to say, without having the courage to do so. That was what was written between the lines of a language made for two.

— Natsume Souseki... He was the guy who invented that story about the moon being beautiful, right?

Geto nodded. — Some people say so, but I think it's just a legend.

Silence. Satoru seemed lost in his thoughts, like a mathematician calculating probabilities. Long minutes passed while they watched the film in that same position, so comfortable, so natural, as if they had been made for that moment.

— Hey, Suguru.

— Huh?

— “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

With incomparable stealth, Geto looked out the window, nonchalantly. — I don't know, it's still four in the afternoon, I don't think you can see the moon that early.

In that moment, Gojo felt like screaming, feeling that his face probably went through all the shades of red in the universe, and a few more that only shrimp could see, and he tried to hide it by covering his face with his hands. — Suguru…!

The other laughed. — “Yes, I can die happy now.”

Silence.

— Suguru, I…

— I know. I love you too. — Geto replied, kissing him. For a moment, nothing else seemed to matter: not the Time Vessel Association, not Kaori Itadori, not the social worker and the children, not the elders, not what other people would think. Everything faded into insignificance, completely disappearing into the background.

[thetragicallynerdy]

Jim cooking something? I don’t know why that was the first thing I thought of.

Oh I love it yes!! Ok so we all know i have a headcanon that Jim is a terrible cook right? Well if you didn't then now you do XD

This is set in the sad modern au i'm writing that's Jim/Ed - at this point they've been living together for maybe 2-3 months. It is important to note that in this one Jim is deep in denial, and a dumbass, and maintains that Ed is just their friend with benefits even tho they live together and have been dating for like 6 months. Okay? Okay.

Thanks for the great prompt pal!!

--

Text from jimbo: hey do you know how to put out a grease fire

Text from jimbo: as a hypothetical

Edward grabbed his coat and hit dial. Jim answered on the first ring. A fire alarm was wailing in the background.

"A grease fire?" he demanded, flipping the store sign from open to closed. It wasn't like he was going to get any walk ins for the rest of the night, and Izzy would forgive him the mess he'd left. "Seriously?"

"It wasn't my fault! Your stupid fucking fancy stove -" there was a loud clanging sound in the background, followed by a swear. "Look, it's fine, everything's fine, don't come home for like - three hours, okay?"

"The fire extinguisher is under the sink," he said, forcing his voice to stay calm. "Please for the love of fuck put down your phone and use it. Or a baking sheet, or a lid, and smother the fire."

"Oh, we're way past that -" Jim's voice disappeared. A cupboard door slammed, and then there was the tell-tale fwoooosh of a fire extinguisher.

Edward carefully locked the shop door with one hand, and willed his heart to stop racing. He made his way to the parking lot and stood by his bike, tapping his foot and waiting.

Finally the noises died down. The fire alarm still wailed in the background. The phone rattled, and Jim's voice appeared.

"Hey," they said breathlessly, "it's out. You - uh. You don't have to come home right away. You're at the shop for a few more hours, right?"

Edward exhaled. Good. Out was good. "And leave you to clean up all by yourself? I'll be home in ten."

Jim went quiet. When they spoke again their voice was too small. "Okay. See you when you get here."

--

There was a fire truck outside of his house when he pulled up on his bike. Lights flashing, parked half-way on the lawn. A few firefighters milled about, while half a dozen neighbours stood on their porches to watch. Nosy assholes.  

Edward tried to ignore the smell of smoke and rushed for the front door, pulling off his helmet as he went.

“I’m the owner,” he said when the first fireman turned his direction. “My partner said there was a fire –“

“Oh, the roommate. Yeah, they said you’d be here soon, this way –“

Roommate. Christ. Jim, you dense motherfucker.

“Right,” he said, giving a weak smile. “Roommate, that’s me.”

The house reeked of smoke. As soon as he stepped inside he could hear Jim’s voice, flat and firm, arguing with someone.

“I’m not going.”

“Sir, we would strongly encourage that you get that burn looked at. If not at a clinic, at least let our medic look you over –“

“I fucking said no –“

The worry ticked up a notch. “Jim?”

A quiet, muttered, “oh, thank Christ,” before their voice raised again. “In here.”

He followed their voice into the living room. They stood with arms crossed and a glare on their face, three firefighters circling them.

Edward strode over and swept them into his arms, lifting them clean off the floor. Jim stiffened, then slowly relaxed into the hug.

“You’re alright?”

They exhaled. “Sí, estoy bién.”

The firefighters waited politely until Edward set Jim back down and turned around to greet them. Introducing himself as the homeowner got him a handshake and a smile.

“Just a typical kitchen greasefire,” one of them said. “Got a little bit out of control, but it was out by the time we got here.”

“Neighbours called them,” Jim muttered. “It was fine.”

Edward nodded. “Right. And what’s this about Jim needing to be seen by a medic?”

“Well, they’ve got a bit of a burn on one hand, never hurts to get it seen,” the tallest of the firefighters said. “Since we’re here and all.”

Jim scowled. “I said I’m fine. I’ll stick it in cold water.”

One look at their face told him it wouldn’t be a fight he would win tonight. They looked ready to bolt.

“I’ll take them to the clinic if we need to,” he said, flashing a reassuring smile at the firefighters. “I’ve got some first aid experience.”

The first firefighter sighed. “Alright. We’d encourage you to go to a clinic if they're having any difficulty breathing or have excessive coughing after smoke inhalation as well.”

Edward nodded seriously. “Right, sure, absolutely. Will do.”

--

Twenty minutes later and the firefighters were pulling out of their driveway. Edward stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the damage.

It was bad. A massive black stain spread up from the stove and across the wall and ceiling, nearly all the way to the corner of the room. The pan still on the stove was a charred mess, and it looked like bits of the microwave above the stove had melted. There was a burnt towel on the stove, a clear failed attempt at smothering the fire.

Soft footsteps padded in behind him. When he looked over his shoulder Jim was looking anywhere but at him, arms crossed tight over their chest. They'd been soaking their hand in cool water for the past ten minutes, but he guessed they had gotten fed up with it.

“Don’t be pissed, okay?” they said, in that quiet tone they’d had over the phone. “I know I fucked up.”

Edward shook his head, turning to face them. “I’m not pissed.”

“Yeah, you say that, but you’ve got your upset face on.” They gestured at the wall, mouth thinning. “And I fucking destroyed your kitchen. I’ve only been here three goddamn months and I’m already fucking it up.”

Sometimes he wanted to shake them.

“Jim. I’m not pissed about the kitchen. I don’t give a fuck about the kitchen.”

“But –“

“I am upset,” he continued, “because I was goddamn worried. You scared the fucking shit out of me! And you got burned! And you fucking texted me when you should have called!”

Jim’s face twisted in confusion. “But I’m fine.”

“Oh my fucking god –“ he walked over and took them by the shoulders, looking them right in the eyes. “I know you’re fine. But you could’ve not been. Okay?”

“I –“ they wilted a little, then nodded. “Okay.”

He pulled them into a hug. They came willingly, wrapping both arms around his waist and pressing their face into his chest. Edward rested his chin on their head and held them close.

"You're important to me," he said quietly. "You could burn the whole goddamn house down and I wouldn't give a shit, so long as you were safe."

Jim was quiet for a long moment. But they weren't running, so he counted it as an improvement. "You’re really not pissed?”

“Naaah.” He smudged a kiss to their hair. “It was time to re-do the kitchen, anyhow. I fuckin’ hate the paint colour.”

Jim huffed a laugh. “You liar.”

He was, a little. He’d liked the yellow. But he would like whatever came next, too.

“What the fuck were you cooking, anyway?”

They groaned. “Bacon. Just fuckin’ normal bacon. I was gonna do pancakes for when you got home, so we could do breakfast for dinner.”

Edward laughed. He couldn’t help it. “You destroyed my kitchen cooking bacon?”

“I know, I know –“

He kissed their hair again, squeezing them tighter. “You’re such a fucking bad cook. I love it.” I love you.

“And here I thought I was getting better.” Jim slowly pulled out of his arms, giving him a sheepish smile. “I won’t cook if you’re not home.”

“Don’t be stupid. Just, like, keep the fire extinguisher on hand, yeah?” He pulled them out of the kitchen. It was warm enough that they could sit out back while the last of the smoke cleared. “C’mon. I’ll order us a pizza, then we can look at that hand of yours.”

[downbytheriversside]

something you think that's underrated (show, music, ship, habit, animal, absolutely anything. can be multiple/a list. go wild)

Oh get ready to be here a while here we fuckin go...

Wind. It reminds me what it's like to be alive

Matt Maltese. Sad boy music that's so so good and makes me feel so much pain and catharsis. Also a lot of his songs are byler/Mike coded. You deserve an Oscar, shoe, everyone adores you, outrun the bear (byler will pov), as the world caves in, strange time (its second or third line is literally "and we'll both gladly lose our minds LIKE!!). Also paper thin hotel is tom wambsgan's song, and tom wambsgan's alone.

Lucas GODDAMN Sinclair. Need I say more? Doesn't matter cus I'm gonna- I genuinely believe he's the best written and performed character in the whole show, he's my sweet child ray of sunshine I love him dlfkgkfdn and he would NOT be the same without what Caleb brings to the table in his performance. And since day ONE he fucking ATE I keep putting EMPHASIS on so many WORDS but I digress. I do understand the problems with some of his writing which sucks but he is still incredible and you can tell that Caleb cares so much about him which I always love to see

The oh hellos album dear wormwood. Omg. Omfg. It's fucking TRANSCENDENT. ANYONE READING THIS WHO HAS GONE THROUGH/IS GOING THROUGH A TOXIC OR ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP OF ANY KIND LISTEN TO THIS IT IS SO HEALING. Not only is it cathartic asf but it depicts the anger and regret and pain and resignation and fucking every emotion under the sun that you experience in those kinds of relationships. And just how connected all of the songs are. The album itself is a loop, seriously. The last part of Thus Always to Tyrants (the final song on the album) leads right into the beginning of Prelude. And while we're on the subject of thus always to tyrants can we talk about how fucking impactful it is to end the album on that note? On a bittersweet toast to the people who hurt us because there is no getting rid of what they did, only making yourself stronger from it and healing?!!? About the notion that what they did was terrible but that is something you'll never forget because you can't but you're moving on to better things, wondering if they will change/have changed from who you knew them as?!??! ARE YOU FUCKNG KIDDING ME!!!!! AND just how connected the lyrics and melodies are in all of the songs. I've listened to the whole album easily over a hundred times and I still notice new lines that relate to each other or when bg melodies in one song are the main motif (?) of another. You can tell how much care and thought and love and emotion was put into its creation and I love it so so so much. Also if you dear reader do not want to spend 40 min listening to the album please please please just listen to Pale White Horse and Where is Your Rider. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Jesus fuck these songs. I'm just typing about them and I got chills like. I'm not joking at all when I say these songs actually changed my life. And the interconnectedness of them (sorta like a horse and its rider?) is just so special. They're whole fucking experiences to listen to and I will never get tired of it. Aaaaaaaahhh I wanna keep talking about this album but we'd be here for a long long long time but I might make a post about it if anyone was actually interested on my music blog @lyricsdumblikethelinoleumfloor at some point so. Stick around for that ?

Forehead kisses. We need more of those pls

Sincerity. For the love of the night sky. BE EARNEST! BE SINCERE!! BE GENUINE I WILL FUCKING STAB YOU-

Little thumb rubs while holding hands

My mutuals all of you deserve love and appreciation and tenderness every one of you fuckers I love you all <33333

Cucumbers. Shit fucks

LIBRARIES! Please if you can visit your local library, it'll be so lovely I prommy

Humans committing to silly bits together. And just like building off of each other's energy. One of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed and that I'm so grateful to have experienced

Introspection. For the love of fuck pleaaaase more people need this. Everyone needs to practice introspection idc just do it it's not some shameful act it just helps you grow

Peach flavoured things. They're yummy 😋

My ever growing gnome figurine collection pretty underrated imo kinda flying under the radar imho

Burger King foot lettuce

Laying on the floor and doing nothing. 10/10 activity honestly. Especially when you're in a sun spot shit fucks

And that's m'list! Glad you made it to the end, sorry for the long post