#ive been noticing this happening for like. a year now. so i thought maybe i should say something about it

[bmpmp3]

post ankle-twisting clarity

[dovelydraws]

I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but for a long time now I've noticed huge swaths of people following me after going through my entire blog spam-liking my rise fanart, and ignoring literally everything else- and to those people I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I will not be drawing rise fanart again.

[risuola]

IV — EPIPHANY // Sukuna thought nothing can break him. He's powerful, he has influence and means to always come on top – or at least that's what he thought, because now he realized that he's nohing but weak.

contents: angst, blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 2,6k words

a/n: in this part i wanted to give you a little insight into Sukuna's persona. show the menace in him, show the threat and how he is when he's not influenced by weakness that is our precious y/n (aka when he's not confused as hell by what's happening in his heart). i rewrote this part four times before i was finally somewhat satisfied with it.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

You are safe with me.

Sukuna thought about the words with hilarity. The sentence so simple and kind, it felt foreign to realize that his own mouth allowed it out of his system. An odd sort of disdain washed over himself and he found it laughable that throughout his entire career of blood and murder, what made his blood pressure raise up was a lie he told you. A strangely comic amalgamation of letters and syllables that each time he thought of them made him more angry and more amused.

You were safe, technically, or maybe that’s what he wished to believe when he replayed the events of one very unlucky Sunday evening in his memory. It began lovely, too lovely in fact, but he chose to actively ignore the oddity of it – he came to terms with how easily you were able to render his senses useless whenever you came into the field of his view wearing something as pretty as the dress you picked for the date that day. It was in a shade of pink that you deemed similar to the color of his hair, a dusty rose, you called it, and Sukuna wasn’t sure exactly how much truth was that, but he couldn’t care less about it when you looked so drop dead gorgeous. When he watched you walking next to him through the crowded alleys in the park nearby your apartment building, he couldn’t help but notice only you in the mass of people around him. He felt like a teenager in a way, with his heartbeat drumming against his ribcage with pace similar of this after sprinting for long time. You were capable of triggering reactions in his body that he thought were long gone with the days of his youth but he was fine with it. As long as he could witness your beauty, he was fine with everything.

Sukuna laughed gravelly as the sequence of memories played in his mind – the dark sound of his voice causing two police officers outside the bars of his cell to tremble. Oh, how much he hated you and your stupidly breathtaking face for whatever the hell you did to him. If he could, he would tell you what he thinks of it right now and if not careful enough, he might tell you a little too much. Confess maybe. Yeah, he might do that someday. And maybe move out somewhere where you��d truly be safe. Where he wouldn’t feel like a fucking idiot for saying words that are so damn obviously a lie.

Moving out felt like a good idea. In couple of years, when he’s done ruling the criminal forces, he could take you out of Japan, somewhere far away and protect you from any harm. He’d take you somewhere warm, where he could shamelessly admire the way your skin tone looks under the golden rays of sun and the way your eyes shine and glisten like the most expensive and rare gemstones. The thought of you brought a wide smile to his face, as the picture spread in front of his closed eyelids. In the cold of his cell, he could almost feel the burning touch of your fingers tracing the shapes of his body.

* * *

Sixteen days.

It’s been over two weeks since you last saw Sukuna and it was getting harder and harder to go about your days. You missed him. You missed his face, his strong arms that manhandled you around despite your playful taps and tugs. You missed the huskiness of his voice, the low purrs he made in the morning whenever he’d nuzzle his nose against your temple inhaling the scent of your skin that he swore he was addicted to. And above all, you were worried and restless, and scared.

Whenever you closed your eyes, your mind was flooded with memories of the Sunday date you went on with Ryomen. He picked you up and handed you a little bag filled with your favorite mochi – the ones stuffed with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, a delicacy made in only one place in Tokyo and you remember how your heart swelled with warmth and love when you realized he had driven to that shop on the other side of the city just to get you few pieces of sweets. He was wearing his usual, black dress pants and a leather belt, perfectly polished boots and a dark grey sweater that made him look both casual and dangerous, with the tattoos around his wrists exposed under the rolled-up sleeves and his sharp features, that somehow whenever were turned towards you seemed a little bit softer.

You felt like a princess next to him, you felt loved and protected with his large hand enveloping your smaller one in his warm embrace. It was perfect. It was perfect until–

You didn’t exactly pick up what happened and how it happened. Even now as you think of it, you can’t truly recall how that tale-like evening turned into a mess that led you to lose your sleep every night that followed. It was a flash. One second you were leaning into Sukuna’s palm, greedy to steal his warmth and love and next one you were pushed tightly against his chest behind a bench. His hand, that was embracing you with as much delicacy as one would use to touch a doll made of porcelain was suddenly pressed harshly to the side of your head, covering your ear. Someone was shooting, Ryomen was shooting. You felt the impact of each bullet being extracted from his weapon. Each one of the subtle shakes of his muscular body reverberated throughout your smaller frame. You heard guns, despite his effort to protect your eardrums, but the loud explosive sound mixed with screams of people around was loud and clear in your head. An echo of danger and violence that you witnessed firsthand even though the man that held you did everything he could to protect you from the event.

You remember vividly the moment Sukuna groaned and cussed lowly. It followed a soft tremble of his large body and at first you didn’t realize what happened, but then you felt the unexpected wet warmth on one of your hands. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he was telling you over and over again as your eyes began to water at the realization that one of your palms was covered in blood. His blood.

“It’s just a scratch,” he was lying to you, but you didn’t know it was a lie until you saw him later. The magazine in his gun was empty sooner than you thought it will be and the foreign shooting continued. It seemed like there were few attackers, but you couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from. All you remember was that you stayed hidden in the large body of your lover for the entire time until the police sirens broke the scene.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, doing everything in your power to hold back sobs, as he kept you close to himself. You knew that police couldn’t be good for him and if not for you, he would most likely run away somehow, but he stayed there, behind the bench, holding you tightly and making sure not a single bullet could land on your fragile body.

He didn’t look mad, not even annoyed, when he was telling you what to do next and how to act in the face of what was to come, and even though you had the hardest time registering it through the immense fear you felt regarding his future, you were nodding. He was calm, and you thought that he stayed calm for you because the scene of shooting was enough of a distress for you already. And then, you saw him in handcuffs, with his hands shackled behind his back, guided towards the police car. Cops that were responsible for escorting him looked almost funny next to his towering frame and if he only wanted, he would quite easily throw those officers away. But he didn’t. And he didn’t do it to save you.

You remember the last time you saw him he sent you a smile, more so a smirk, when one of those cops harshly pushed his head down, making sure he got into the car. Few moments later, he was gone and you were left with the mess of the crime scene and the burden of a witness.

Later, you were informed by one of his pawns that it’s not gonna take long, but you knew that things were serious because few days slowly turned into a week and then two weeks and he still was in jail. And you couldn’t go visit him because he said so. You stayed in his house, safe and sound in the bed you always shared with him, except now you were alone and cold. You missed him. And you were worried.

It killed you inside to think Sukuna might face charges. A life sentence, most likely. There was only so much that you knew about his criminal past and you were sure that he kept many secrets from you, that he wanted to save you from the heavy burden of his misdeeds and cruelty. You knew how dangerous his lifestyle was, how dark was the path he chose to fallow and you knew that even someone as strong as him couldn’t escape the jurisdiction forever. But why now?

You couldn’t shake off the devastating feeling of emptiness whenever you wandered between the luxurious interiors of his mansion. It felt like you couldn’t stop worrying, day in and day out you were thinking if he was alright. Was he properly fed? He told you that he won’t contact you while in jail to protect you, but all you wished for was just to hear his voice. You were worried about the way authorities treat criminals of his sort. What will they do to him? The mere thought of torture or interrogation filled you with dread and anxiety. You never felt so alone and helpless.

* * *

It took too long.

In fact, detention took much longer than Sukuna anticipated but time behind the bars was nothing but an entertainment for him. It was amusing, it allowed him to let loose. Surrounded by an air of sadistic satisfaction he didn’t get to experience in years, he played game of pushing and pulling, a game of power. Despite being enclosed and surrounded by dozens of officers and guards, Sukuna had a sense of control over his situation, and it amused him. He was enjoying the misery that he caused others, relished in the fact that he was feared and hated. It made him almost giddy. There was a twinkle in his eye and a playful grin on his lips, he relished the experience.

“I’ve got few questions to you.”

He smirked, sitting smug and relaxed. For the nth time he was questioned; a futile attempt of getting information out of him, yet another display of the illusionary power that authorities thought they had but lacked severely. It made Ryomen laugh out loud each time he sat against a new face, it pleased him, he loved the feeling of having the interrogator’s full attention. Detectives that tried to enforce the law onto him looked tough, each one of them, until they dropped their weight onto the metal chair in the interrogation room. The heaviness of the sinister aura was unnerving to anyone who dared to approach and the criminal enjoyed breaking them one by one.

“Do you?” Sukuna spoke, his voice low and menacing, but bearing a thrill of amusement and excitement. The heavy chains that grounded his frame clinked as he moved just slightly and the shiver that went down the spine of the man in front of him did not escape his watchful eye. “Afraid?”

“Hardly,” a tone of false confidence responded to the question and Ryomen chuckled. To him, this was a game, and he was winning. He found joy in annoying the interrogator, knowing that he couldn’t get anything out of him. It was stimulating, it was fun. It was a game of cat and mouse. It felt euphoric to answer the questions, knowing that his words were confusing, that he was able to mess with the man’s head, make him question his own judgement.

Years and years of being on the top of mafia managed to clear his memory of being vulnerable and the caricature of it that he was now experiencing served for a nice refresher. He felt excitement to play with the law and as he sat there, restrained by metal bounds, he realized why he became a criminal in the first place. The constant chase of thrill and power was what made him who he was.

As the detective sat there, intimidated more and more with each passing second, Sukuna watched the disaster unraveling with a dark glint in his eyes. He enjoyed every moment of the tension and knew that chills were running down the spine of his current opponent. He was imposing, savoring the fear and the exquisite feeling of danger that surrounded him. It was intoxicating, it made him feel alive. He played with the interrogator as if the predator would play with its pray, he stared at him with a small grin of pure evil.

“You’ve been stubborn this whole time,” the officer said, clearing his throat and straightening his spine to make himself appear bigger but to Ryomen, he was merely a source of amusement. The criminal stayed relaxed and leaned forward, slowly closing the distance between his own face of death and the eyes of the person in front of him.

“Was I stubborn?” He questioned, his tone low and menacing and his lips stretched slowly, baring the teeth. “You’ve got me all chained up and still, you can’t get your job done?”

“You’re chained up because of the potential threat you might pose.”

Sukuna laughed. A raspy and low chuckle came from his throat; a dark omen that hung heavy in the air as if signifying the upcoming danger. It was cold and malicious, an ominous showcase of his real persona, of someone who has no compassion and knows no mercy. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at the sight of sweat running down the face of the man in front of him. He exuded an aura of fear, leaving everyone in the room unsettled.

“If I only wanted to, I could rip out your throat with my bare teeth.” Ryomen’s voice was low, it was quiet and nearly whisper like but the message it carried was more than enough to freeze the blood inside the veins of the interrogator.

“I assume you’re familiar with the idea of good cop bad cop method,” the man spoke again after a moment of dread. He cleared his throat once more, squared up his jaw.

“And which one are you?”

“Oh, I’m neither, but allow me to show you something,” interrogator reached to the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a phone with his sweaty palms and pressing down few buttons.

The moment Sukuna looked down on the screen, his expression changed. A ghost of anger washed over his features as he took in the picture. Suddenly, he felt a wave of burning hot filling his veins and reaching his face; a dizzying sensation of dread and rage and then he realized that the power he wielded was nothing. With his eyes fixed on the little phone and his jaw clenched, shaken by the rush of adrenaline and with his knuckles white, Sukuna Ryomen experienced acknowledgement. An epiphany of sorts. The illusion of might and influence burst like a bubble made of soap and slowly he realized that he’s nothing but–

“Seeing something familiar?”

–weak.

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed @b3llair3 @lzaj19 @sanzusforeverwife @annshz, @mrs--imperfect @kaminari-no-ritsusha @gojos-princesa @burpzz

[3igbootyl0ver]

who hurt you? [ii]

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: Tara mistakenly puts herself in a relationship she thought would be full of love.

word count: 1822

warnings: (Tara's POV), mentions of abuse, violence, angst, swearing

a/n: ok hi guys this is mostly Tara's POV and won't really be focusing btwn her and r's relationship. the next part would probably be the last one too but im always up on doing head canons for this pic. anyways apologies for any inaccuracy for this part, if ya'll have any feedback or suggestions feel free to dm me or send anonymously.

part [i] | part [iii] | part [iv] |

Tara never meant for any of this to happen.

She first met Amber a year ago, at a party that invited everyone from both Blackmore and Woodsboro High. Tara went with you at first, but you quickly got caught up in the chaos of the event, drinking with friends to drown your frustrations over the rivalry, leaving Tara to wander through the crowd alone.

Tara glanced around the room, feeling a bit out of place without you. It was her first real taste of a high school party, but somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. You were missing. Some were celebrating—laughing, dancing, and basking in the glory of their win over Blackmore—while others attended this party just for an excuse to get drunk, but Tara wasn’t feeling the same rush. That was when she noticed Amber standing off to the side, holding a drink and watching the crowd with a knowing smile.

Amber had been a wild card that night. No one expected her to show up, least of all Tara. But Amber’s reputation preceded her—everyone knew she was sharp, calculated, and, most importantly, she knew how to play the game. She wasn’t just there to celebrate; she was there to get ahead.

Tara’s initial impression of Amber was a mix of admiration and curiosity. Amber seemed to hold herself in a way that suggested she knew something no one else did. And that intrigued Tara, even if she couldn’t quite explain why.

As Tara wandered away from the chaotic center of the party, she ended up near Amber. The two of them started talking, mostly small talk at first—what they were doing after high school, the thrill of their victory, and the peculiar tension between Woodsboro and Blackmore. Tara found herself drawn to Amber’s cool confidence, the way she seemed to have everything under control.

But what started as a simple conversation slowly shifted into something deeper. Amber had a way of making Tara feel like she was the only one in the room, even when there were dozens of people around. Tara’s mind kept drifting back to the feeling Amber gave her: like maybe she could be something more, something beyond the quiet girl who never quite fit in.

And so, things began to unravel.

Tara never meant for it to go this far. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, just a casual connection. But somewhere along the way, Amber made it clear that she wasn’t just interested in Tara’s company—she had a plan, and Tara was a part of it. Tara hadn’t realized how deep Amber’s intentions went until it was already too late. Now, Tara was left to figure out how she’d let herself be pulled into something so complicated—something that, in hindsight, was far more than just a meeting between two people at a party.

Everything was bliss when Tara and Amber started dating. She was kind, gentle, and attentive—the kind of person who made Tara feel understood and like the most important person in the world. It felt like a dream. Amber would send her thoughtful texts, surprise her with little gifts, and always knew how to make her laugh. Tara felt safe, seen, and loved in a way she hadn’t before.

But as time went on, Amber’s true colors started to surface—slowly, almost imperceptibly at first.

It started with small criticisms. At first, they were disguised as concern, little comments about Tara’s appearance or habits that Amber claimed were meant to help her. "You know, if you ate healthier, maybe you wouldn't feel so tired all the time." Or, "I don’t think that outfit is really doing you any favors." Tara tried to brush it off, telling herself it was just Amber wanting her to be her best. But the comments grew sharper, more frequent.

"You always mess things up," Amber would say when Tara made a mistake, like forgetting to pick up groceries or missing a text. "Why can’t you ever get anything right?" Her tone wasn’t playful anymore. It was condescending, even cruel. Tara began to feel like she couldn’t do anything without Amber pointing out what she’d done wrong.

The verbal jabs escalated when Amber started to get possessive. At first, Tara thought it was just a sign of how much Amber cared. But Amber's jealousy started to feel suffocating. She'd ask Tara where she was going, who she was with, and why she didn’t tell her first. "You don't really need to hang out with them, do you?" Amber would ask, her voice dripping with insinuation. It would have been even worse if she had hung out with you. It was as if you were Amber's breaking point. "They don’t even care about you like I do." "I’m better than them; why are you still hanging out with them?"

Tara found herself apologizing constantly—for things she didn’t even understand; she would say sorry just to avoid the tension. 

It was always the same cycle: Amber would get irritated for no reason, her voice would grow cold and sharp just to insult Tara. "You always do this; you always make everything more difficult than it has to be. Why can’t you just do things right?". The next day, Amber would be apologetic, trying to console Tara, making her forget everything that happened the day before. She said all the right things, but Tara couldn’t ignore the knot of anxiety that lingered in her chest. She had a way of twisting everything, making Tara feel like she was always in the wrong, walking on eggshells.

And soon, the emotional abuse turned into physical fights. One day, Tara had dinner plans with Mindy when Amber confronted her again, "You always do this," she snapped. "You always choose them over me." Her voice was cold, venomous.

Tara tried to explain, but Amber wasn’t hearing it. "You think you can just leave whenever you want? No, you’re not going anywhere." Before Tara could react, Amber grabbed her by the arm—tightly, her fingers digging into Tara’s skin. "You’re hurting me, Amber; let me go!" Tara shouted, trying to pull away, but her grip tightened. She twisted Tara’s arm painfully, forcing her to sit down.

Tara’s heart was racing. She didn’t recognize this version of Amber—this wasn’t the woman she had fallen in love with. The love they once shared felt like a distant memory, replaced with anger, control, and fear. Tara was terrified, but she didn’t know how to escape. Before the day ended, Tara made up an excuse to Mindy that she couldn’t make it. She thought about her friends. Chad, Mindy, You. How will she be able to explain herself? She’s embarrassed and ashamed of herself if she were to ever face either of you. 

There was once when Amber picked up Tara from school when she saw her talking to you, both of you giggling like lovestruck teenagers, like you were in love with each other. And Amber simply couldn’t have that. Once both of them got back to Amber’s house, she gripped Tara’s arm, demanding an explanation. "So you’re just whoring around your school with someone else? Especially them? You’re just a slut, aren’t you?" Amber seethed, her nails digging into Tara’s skin, leaving another mark on her skin. Tara stood there, tears streaming down her face, knowing no matter what she said, it would be dismissed, twisted, or ignored. "You’re mine, Tara. I’m not letting you go anywhere," were the last words she heard before being shoved down the stairs, undoubtedly leaving bruises all over her body. She knew the next day Amber would whisper apologies, giving her kisses and hugging her in an attempt to make her forget.

Tara began pulling away, distancing herself from you, from Chad, from Mindy, from Anika—everyone. It wasn’t that she didn’t care anymore, but she couldn’t bear the thought of Amber’s wrath falling on them, especially you. She couldn’t risk you getting hurt because of her, couldn’t risk Amber turning her anger on the people she loved. The more Tara tried to protect her friends, the more she isolated herself.

Every moment felt like a calculation; every text, every phone call, every plan made without Amber’s approval felt like a risk. Tara started to feel like a prisoner in her own life, like Amber was always there—watching, waiting for her to slip up, to make a mistake.

Amber had a way of making her feel like she was constantly under surveillance, always one misstep away from an explosion. Tara couldn’t shake the feeling that Amber was breathing down her neck, that every time she laughed too loudly with a friend or spent too much time away from her, Amber would find out. And when Amber found out, the consequences would be brutal. Tara had learned that the hard way.

It was like living in a constant state of fear. Tara’s heart would race whenever she saw a message from you or heard from one of her friends. She hated that it had come to this—that Amber’s control over her had stretched so far that she couldn’t even speak freely without worrying about the fallout.

But more than anything, she hated that the woman she loved, the woman she had trusted, had become someone she feared. Every day, she woke up wondering how much longer she could live like this. How much longer until Amber's control over her—and over everyone she cared about—was too much to bear?

Amber’s behavior spiraled even further. The emotional abuse had crossed into physical violence, and Tara was left unsure of where it would go next. Amber would apologize, beg for forgiveness, and then turn around and hurt her again. Tara began to feel like she was losing herself. She was afraid of what might happen if she tried to leave, afraid of what Amber might do. 

Though she would still post pictures of them together, of them being in a happy relationship for people to see online, the reality was far different. Behind the carefully staged photos, the smiles seemed forced, the laughter hollow. She knew the posts didn’t reflect the late-night arguments or the hidden marks on Tara’s body. Yet, there was comfort in the illusion, in maintaining a facade that everyone else admired. It was easier to keep up the pretense than to confront the discomfort of what was really happening—of the slow unraveling that no one could see. The attention, the validation from likes and comments, provided a temporary sense of relief, a distraction from the gnawing uncertainty she felt every time she looked at Amber when the camera was off. It became a blurred line for Tara to interpret what was the reality and the sick image she created of her and Amber online. 

But one thing was clear: this wasn’t love anymore. And Tara didn’t know how much longer she could stay in a relationship that was slowly suffocating her.

-----------------------------

a/n: next update might be awhile bc exam season is coming up and im a chill girl that needs to rest so you'll probably hear from me in like 2-3 weeks :p

[vex91]

Ahn Yujin - Snowfall melody

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Summary: During preparations for their tour, Yujin decided to surprise her members with a solo piano stage. In order to do that she signs up for piano lessons and meets a girl that unknowingly to her would become her biggest distraction during this busy time.

A/N: Just some short Yujin fic I cooked up for @pupyuj birthday <3

3rd's POV

Ahn Yujin.

You read the name one last time before the time for the lesson came. In years of your job you had a few interesting things happening but an idol signing up for your class was the first - especially an idol like Yujin.

You were very aware of who Yujin was, it was completely impossible with the work she put to be more known with her group so when you saw her name on the list of applications, it took your breath away for a moment.

Now Yujin was learning under you for a week now and you could already see that she was determined to give it her all but determination wasn't entirely enough to learn something and Yujin was a prime example.

"Ugh the piano hates me" Yujin sighed as she hit another wrong note on the song she wanted to learn for her stage. She was all into the idea that she wanted to play it live and show her fans that she could do it if she wanted to but everytime she was hitting at least one wrong note.

She could hear you chuckle beside her as you started showing her how to do it properly again and her brain stopped as the smell of your perfume enveloped her.

You were so distracting to her since day one but Yujin couldn't quite put her finger on what it was but now in this small room, surrounded by music sheets and the faint sound of snowflakes tapping against the window. It was hard to concentrate on whatever you were saying to her as your perfume messed with her head - her eyes focused solely on your lips as you talked about... whatever you were talking about.

"Yujin?" Your soft voice pulled her out of her thoughts as she looked at you confused. A sheepish grin on her face at the way you laughed at her.

"Sorry, what was that again?" she stammered, straightening up and pretending to focus on the keys.

You gave her an amused look, one eyebrow raised "Are you sure you're okay? You've been a little... distracted today" Yujin laughed nervously at your question.

"I'm fine" she blurted, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Just... focusing really hard"

You chuckled softly, shaking your head but deciding not to press further. "Alright, let's try it again. Remember, slow and steady. Don’t rush the transitions"

Taking a deep breath, Yujin placed her fingers on the keys and attempted the piece again. The first few notes were decent, but as the melody progressed, her mind wandered back to you. By the time she hit the middle section, she flubbed another note and groaned in frustration, slumping against the piano.

"Maybe we should take a break huh?" You smiled comfortingly at her hoping that she won't get too discouraged. You really liked the idea she had for her stage and wanted to help her with her surprise.

Not long after you and Yujin found yourselves by the window, drinking hot chocolate you prepared earlier. The snow outside let out a little and now it was snowing beautifully outside. Your whole attention was on the snowflakes and you didn't notice Yujin's eyes being elsewhere.

"They're so pretty"

"Yeah... so beautiful" Yujin said and you turned to look at her only to lock eyes with her. Your cheeks flushed when you realized she was looking at you the whole time.

Yujin didn't break the eye contact, instead moved closer.

"You weren't looking at the snow... huh?" You chuckled nervously and with a small chuckle Yujin leaned in.

"I wasn't"

And before you could response, her lips brushed against yours in a gentle and hesitant kiss before she pulled away.

"I've been looking at you this whole time"

[aewon]

what's after like?

sunghoon x f!reader genre: fluff warnings: none wc: 1,295

inspired by after like by ive!

for @bywons event! love u sruby

Sunghoon has been your best friend for as long as you can remember.

Your earliest memory is of 4-year-old you with 4-year-old Sunghoon, playing in the sandbox. 

A mean kid came by and ruined Sunghoon's sand castle. You didn't like seeing another kid cry, so you told the boy's mom. 

He got dragged out of the park, kicking and screaming.

You returned to the sandbox to see Sunghoon smiling, and that's when you introduced yourselves.

From that point forward, you and Sunghoon were inseparable.

You went through every stage of life together, even the awkward ones.

Of course, when puberty struck, you noticed Sunghoon becoming more handsome than you last remembered. 

Now, you didn't say anything.

Sunghoon was cocky in a playful way. You didn't want to stroke his ego further. 

This newfound attractiveness came with more people, especially girls, interested in Sunghoon.

You were 14 when he got his first girlfriend.

Not wanting to cross any boundaries, you stepped back, only interacting with Sunghoon when he initiated it.

That relationship didn't last, and before you knew it, Sunghoon became known as one of your school's playboys. Having a new girlfriend every month became a habit for him.

But you didn't judge. You didn't pry. You didn't do anything.

Sunghoon was still your best friend, and you didn't want to jeopardize that.

Today, you and Sunghoon are at your house, chilling. 

“How are you and Veronica?” You ask, messing with your hair in front of your vanity.

Sunghoon, lying on your bed, shakes his head before saying, “We broke up.”

Confused, you turn to him, “But I thought you guys were doing well?”

“It just didn't work,” he said, scrolling through his phone.

While Sunghoon has had several girlfriends, you haven't even had your first boyfriend. 

Being a senior in high school without even having your first kiss is kind of embarrassing. Then again, you've never been teased for it.

“Can you help me get a boyfriend?” You ask, taking the conversation in a completely different direction. 

“You don't need a boyfriend,” Sunghoon replies curtly, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“I know I don't need one, but I want one. You get to have a million and one girlfriend, but I can't have a boyfriend?”

Sunghoon finally looks up at you, but the usual playfulness in his eyes is not present. Instead, he almost looks angry.

“Guys are no good. You don't need somebody who's just going to play with your heart.”

You don't know why you're suddenly annoyed, but before you can stop yourself, you snap, “What, someone like you?”

Sunghoon eyes widen, taking in your words. 

You turn away from him, immediately regretting what you said, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that-”

Before you can say anything else, Sunghoon leaves your room. You call after him, flinching as you hear the front door slam.

Tears prick your eyes, and you bury your head in your hands.

Great, now you just ruined the one genuine friendship you had.

The next day at school, you try to look for Sunghoon, but he's nowhere to be found.

You ask his other friends, a group of boys Sunghoon met in his first year.

“I saw him this morning, but he seemed to be in a pissy mood, so we didn't bother him. Did something happen?” Heeseung asks.

You sit at the table, telling them what happened the day before.

“Y/N, don't worry about it. Technically, what you said isn't wrong. Maybe it sparked something inside Hoon,” Sunoo says, touching your shaking one.

The other guys look at each other like they know something you don't. As you're about to ask what's up, the bell rings.

You sigh, frustrated, but get up, leaving for class.

The rest of the day passes with no sign of Sunghoon. In your last period of the day, you hear two girls gossiping in the back corner.

“Did you hear about Sunghoon?”

They immediately catch your attention, and you subtly lean back to hear the rest of the conversation.

“What happened?”

“Younghee asked him out during lunch, and he rejected her. Can you believe it?”

Younghee? You know her, she's one of the most popular girls in your school.

She asked Sunghoon out, and he rejected her, you wonder why.

From what you know, she's a nice girl. There's no reason as to why Sunghoon shouldn't have at least given her a chance.

Once the bell rings and your day ends, you rush to the parking lot to see if you can spot Sunghoon's car.

You see it, but he's already speeding out of the parking lot onto the street.

You sigh. He must be avoiding you. You must've hurt his feelings.

Getting into your own car, you drive home with a sense of guilt plaguing your heart.

When you get home, you see Sunghoon's car parked by your house.

He's sitting on your porch, head in his hands.

You park in your driveway, get out, and walk up to him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, slinging your bag across your shoulder.

He looks up, his eyes red, like he'd been crying.

You immediately bend down to his height, “Hoon, what's wrong? Did something happen?”

He shakes his head, “No, I just needed to talk to you.”

You invite him inside, and the house is quiet because your parents aren't home.

He sits on the couch while you go to the kitchen for water. 

Once you sit down, Sunghoon starts speaking. 

“I'm sorry for running out on you yesterday and avoiding you today at school. I just had a lot on my mind.”

“Sunghoon, I should be the one apologizing. What I said was too much, and I didn't mean it.”

He shakes his head, “You don't need to apologize… you were right. I do play with girl’s hearts. I’m one of the guys I told you to stay away from.” 

“But Sunghoon,” you start, “You're so much more than that. You're kind and caring. You put others before yourself, especially me. You're one of the greatest people I've ever known. I don't know why your relationships don't work out, but they don't define you.”

“I know why they don't work out,” he says, “They don't work out because I'm the one who doesn't give any effort.”

“But why, Sunghoon?”

“Because they're not who I truly want.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch, putting your hand over his, “Then who do you want, Hoon?”

He pauses.

“You, Y/N. I want you. I've always wanted you.”

You don't register his answer for a second, the words running through your mind a million miles a minute.

“Me?”

Sunghoon nods, “It's always been you. I know I shouldn't have used those other girls, but… I thought I couldn't have you.”

“Sunghoon,” you coo, “You've always had me.”

You place a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his head to face you.

His lip wobbles like he's going to cry again.

You press your lips on his, stroking his cheek.

He kisses you back, turning his head to deepen it.

You've never felt something like this—this amount of happiness and warmth.

His hands make their way to your waist, holding you tightly.

You feel his tongue tease your bottom lip.

Opening your mouth slightly, you let him inside. 

The taste of him makes you feel weak.

You don't want to pull away, but you need air, so you do reluctantly. 

“Is this real?” Sunghoon asks, stroking your waist with his big hands.

You giggle, “It's real, Hoonie. You know what comes after like?”

He shakes his head.

“Love. I love you, Sunghoon.”

He smiles, his fangs, your favorite part of him, showing. “I love you more, Y/N.”

i will be updating mafs today so look out for that hehe

[spidernuggets]

Anon asked: ive always had the thought that jason is an extream romantic, especially so when he was younger. I present jason seing reader and thinking she (or he or they) are the most beutiful person in the world But would he pine silently? Or do everything in his power to make them fall in love w him?

Jason Todd x Reader

"Eventually"

Dick was only supposed to take him to the cafe for a quick break. Never in a million years would he think he'd lock eyes with someone he'd want to be a part of their life with. And that's exactly what happened that day.

"Can we make this quick? l'm behind on training, Jason grumbles. Dick scoffs in response

"Calm down, we 'll be quick. Hi, yeah, I'll just get an Americano, thanks.'

"Of course," you reply. "And for you?" You ask towards Jason.

Jason's head lifts up and stares at the pretty person in front of him and suddenly he forgets how to speak.

Jason does NOT believe in love at first sight. He'd ever fully love someone romantically until he believes that both parties of the relationship have full devotion to each other.

No, he doesn't believe in love at first sight. The person standing in front of him just happens to be someone he'd like to get to know more.

"Uh.. sir?" You call out to him as Dick turns his headtowards him in confusion

Jason shakes his head. "Uhm... sorry, I'll just get an iced hazelnut coffee, I guess," he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear.

"Perfect.. I'lI call out your orders when they're ready,' you tell the two men as they nod and step to the side. Dick paid both orders with his card and put a couple of coins into the tips jar.

Once they both got their orders, they both thanked you. Jason let Dick walk away first before seeing that you had you back turned, making another order.

He didn't know what he was thinking, but he just got the urge to quickly walk to your tip jar and place two 20 bills in.

When you finished your shift and counted up your tips, you couldn't believe that someone would've placed a 40 in. Or maybe 2 people placed a 20 each? Who knows. But you were happy nonetheless

Ever since Jason first unofficially met you, he's been visiting the cafe on his own a couple of times every 2 weeks or so. Then, the visits once every week, then twice every week. Now, Jason visits the cafe every chance he gets. And he realises it may seem stalker-ish, but he's had a grasp of your roster patterns and only shows up to the cafe when you're working.

And you've noticed it, too. And so has your coworkers. After his first visit, you told one of your coworkers the next day about the cute guy you ordered one of your favourite drinks.

And when one of your other coworkers was going over security footage to see who was nicking a cookie or two from the pastry shelf, she reported to you that it was Jason who left the two 20 bills in your tip jar. And you swear you got a heart palpitation.

When you see Jason walking up to the cafe through the windows, your heart sped up, and you get excited and start making his usal hazelnut iced coffee.

When he walks to your counter, you place his drink in front of him.

"Hazelnut iced coffee?" You smile towards him as he returns the grin.

"Know me so well," he replies, taking the drink and placing a 50 in its place.

As you go get his change, he shakes his head. "Just keep the change, sweetheart," he says as your eyes widen.

"What?? No! That's like a 1000% tip!" You exclaim worringly.

And Jason laughs. "It's fine, plently more where that came from, Y/n."

Your brows pinch in confusion as you look down, remembering your nametag.

You lightly scoff and roll your eyes and shook your head. "I don't care, here," you say, handing him his change.

"Fine. How bout I use this money to take you on a date then?" He asks.

You hesitate. Sure, the guy's cute, but... you don't even know him..

"I'm busy," you impulsively say, mentally slapping yourself for the lame response.

"I never said when."

"Busy anyway, tight schedule."

"Liar, you know I'm always here when your working."

"Yeah, I know.."

"I know you know."

"Shut up," you say, and you couldn't help but smile at the small banter between the two of you.

Luckily it was a quiet day and there was no line.

"I don't even know your name," you proudly say.

"It's Jason. And fine. How 'bout," Jason takes a napkin and writes down his number. "Friends. For now. And I take you on a date."

You think for a moment before agreeing. "Eventually," you say, not wanting to be too quick into dating some guy.

"Eventually," Jason repeats.

"But!" You say. "No more massive tips. I'm not going on a date with someone who flaunts money," you condition.

He nods in response. Jason raises his coffee as a salute goodbye. "Eventually," He bids a farewell as he walks out.

"Eventually," you quietly say to yourself, excited to see how this friendship would bloom.

From your condition alone, Jason realises you'd prefer handmade or cheaper gifts rather than grand gestures or expensive offerings.

One time, during the first few weeks that he visited the cafe, he noticed a copy of Little Women behind you.

So you were somewhat into classic literature.

He prepares a little note for you in replace for the cash tip.

When he gets his drink, he pays and puts that note in your tip jar.

You take it out and read it when he leaves.

Be the Amy to my Laurie? ;) it read.

The next time Jason visited you, he placed a red rose in your jar, and this gesture definitely made you blush.

After a month or so of him olacing cute notes and small gifts in you jar, you finally accept his proposal of a date.

And soon, the two of you became an official couple. This was the point where Jason became more of a romantic than usual.

He recited poems and sonnets. Wrote love quotes from his favourite classic novels, putting it in your bag before you headed for work. He made sure you knew his love and affection he has towards you every day.

And sometimes, he'd feel a little cheeky and slip a 50 'tip' in your wallet when you're not looking.

I'm so sorry that this is probably short and lame, Anon, I had so many technical difficulties with this 😭

I based this mainly on Titans!Jason Todd, since he m seems to be more flirty and expressive than other Jason Todds I've seen.

I wasn't sure how to incorporate this into a fic, but I'd think that firstly, when he first sees you, he definitely wants to know you more, but based on his background, he doesn't wanna scare you away, so he silently pines in the background before having the courage to make a move.

I will take to my grave that he recites book quotes and poems cuz he's our little theatre nerd.

In my opinion, when Jason first sees someone, he wouldn't fall for them or anything like that. I'd think that if he hangs out with them enough, then he'd start to have a crush on them.

But when he finally realises he loves them, he loves them HARD. Like he can't imagine a life with anyone else but you.

Thanks so much for the request, Anon. Have a great day!

[vickytaa]

Music keeps me alive. M.S. Chapter IV

sumerry: y/n's father passed away, and she moved to Boston to finish school. She always keeps her headphones on, only she knows the reason why. What happens when she meets Matt?

Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III

Y/n Pov:

I was never a big fan of parties, especially when I didn't know anyone, but being next to Matt always calmed me down a bit. After the thing with Emily, everything felt weird and uncomfortable, but the guys quickly noticed it on my face and made me feel at ease again.

“Honey, I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be right back,” I told Matt, who kissed me on the forehead and let go of my hand so I could go. It didn't take long, or well, a little bit. I just did my business and touched up my makeup a bit, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back out. The party wasn’t bad, and getting to know the guys' friends better is great, it's just that I was tired and I've never been one to go to these parties, but if Matt liked it and it made him happy, obviously I was going to go with him.

As I walked in, I was met with a crowd of sweaty bodies dancing together, which made me a little uncomfortable. But when I found Nick talking to Chris, everything else faded away. Reaching the circle where everyone was chatting, I saw him. Matt was wrapping his arm around Emily's waist, just like he used to with me. He must have made a mistake. But how could he not realize it wasn't me? Maybe he'd just had too much to drink... But Matt doesn't drink much. I was approaching them when I saw Emily grab his jaw and kiss him. He didn't pull away, he kissed her back. How? Why? Didn't anyone notice that I wasn't the one with Matt?

Without realizing it, my eyes had filled with tears and some rolled down my cheeks. My breath caught in my throat. My heart ached. Those few seconds of their kiss felt like years to me. I felt invisible, until Matt heard a sob coming from me and turned around. That's when he realized that the girl he was kissing wasn't his girlfriend, it was Emily.

I was in shock, my world was falling apart, again. "What? Y/n?" I heard Matt say, looking completely confused. I had trusted him, I had told him things about myself that I never thought I would tell anyone else. I couldn't think of anything else, I wanted to get out of there, away from everything, from everyone, lock myself in my room and never come out. So I did, I turned around and started running through the crowd, while I heard Matt shouting for me to stop as he ran after me.

"Y/n! Wait!" Matt repeated, his voice desperate. I had managed to get out of the house, but hearing him cry made me unable to contain my pain and I turned around, this time stopping. "Y/n, I- I didn't- I didn't realize that... that it wasn't you. I had too much to drink and when she..." Matt started to speak, trying to explain what happened, but I couldn't take anymore pain, so much betrayal, so much everything. "No, Matt!" I tried to interrupt him, but I couldn't. He had come very close and grabbed my arms tightly, afraid I would leave. "I thought you had already come back and..." "Matt! Stop!" I yelled, now desperate because I couldn't escape. Matt stood still, slowly raising his gaze that was fixed on the floor to meet mine. My tears were now falling uncontrollably, despite my enormous effort to stop them. "Matt, let go of me," I said, now in a softer, lower tone. But he didn't let go. "I don't want you to leave Y/n. Please," Matt started begging me not to leave, which hurt me even more, but I had to stay strong and respect myself. "No, Matt. Now let me go," I said again in the same tone. "No, no, no, please don't go, I need you," Matt said as he began to kneel in front of me. He was crying uncontrollably, begging me please not to leave, grabbing my legs. "Matt let go of me!" I shouted and my voice cracked.

Hearing my voice crack, Matt let go of me. I quickly ran away from there, not wanting to hear anything else from anyone. I didn't know where I was going or how long I was going to walk, all I knew was that at that moment I needed my dad. He had always been there for me in the best and worst of times, always trying to make me feel better. Even though sometimes I didn't quite understand what he was saying, he always found a way to see the good in the situation, or a way to make me feel good, no matter how bad the situation was. For example, when my cat Sherlock died, he made sure to be there for me the whole month, giving me gifts, affection, making me laugh, despite the fact that I wanted to cry, among many other things that I had never realized I needed until he was gone.

And that left a huge void in me, a pain in my chest, a sadness and a need for him to come back, not at 2 in the morning at my lowest point of mental breakdown, but when I was laughing with my cousins while playing at the last family dinner all together.

I didn't need the music. When I said it kept me alive, it was a lie, what kept me alive was the memory of my dad. The countless nights I spent sleeping in his arms while listening to his favorite records, the road trips singing at the top of our lungs while mom laughed at how much we were alike, that's what kept me alive.

After an hour of walking in the middle of a neighborhood I didn't know, I decided to order an Uber home. The ride was quick, I got home and opened the door, still in costume. "Hi honey! How-" My mom started talking until she looked into my eyes. "What happened to you? Are you okay?" She started asking me a million questions, but I wasn't really listening. I couldn't feel anything but pain. Why does something bad always have to happen when I'm having a good time? It broke my heart to see myself so vulnerable in front of my mom, not knowing what else to do but wanting to run away from everything, like we had done when Dad died. My mom understood that I wasn't going to talk now so she hugged me. She knew I needed my father there, and maybe that wasn't something he would have done, but now he wasn't there and she had to find a way to make me feel a little better. I was crying uncontrollably, and my mom's hug made me cry more, but it helped me, because I felt more comfortable expressing my feelings, I felt accompanied, I felt at home. After a while hugging, my mom helped me go to bed and lay down next to me. Maybe I'll never say it, but I was very grateful to her.

That night, I could sleep very little, so my mom let me sleep a couple more hours and then try to talk about what happened yesterday. When I woke up, I stretched and grabbed my phone. There were thousands of messages and missed calls from Matt, but I couldn't even start looking at them when my eyes started to fill with tears again. I decided that maybe I wouldn't want to see my phone for a few days, so I just turned it off and got out of bed. My mom was making breakfast, like every day. "Good morning, my love. How are you feeling?" she asked. How do I feel? It was my time to speak, to explain everything that had happened, to talk about everything that has been happening to me lately since Dad died, to talk about my desire to leave, to talk. But who cares? If I have a problem, the problem is mine and I have to solve it myself, if I talk to someone I'm sure I'll bother them, I can't talk. If I talk, I cry. Why can't I explain what I feel like everyone else?

I simply swallowed my urge to cry and nodded. I sat down for breakfast and just sat there, staring at the plate of food in front of me. "Y/n, please," Mom said without explanation. I started eating. When I finished, I went upstairs to go back to sleep. I had nothing else to do. When I got up, I would just stare at the ceiling, not knowing what to do. Read? I couldn't form a complete sentence in my mind. Listen to music? I can't even hear my own thoughts. Talk to someone? I cry.

The moments from last night replayed over and over in my mind. The turn the night took, before we went out we were all doing great, happy, and at the end we didn't even leave the party together. I wonder what Matt is thinking, what he's doing. Is he thinking about me? Why would he think about me now if he didn't think about me before kissing Emily? God. I need to sleep and never wake up again.

The emptiness inside me grew bigger and bigger. I don't know if I'll ever trust anyone again. I feel broken and alone, as if the world around me is falling apart and there's nothing I can do but watch it crumble. I don't understand why he would want to make me believe he was in love with me and that he loved me only to break my heart. A big part of me wanted to talk to him and tell him what a jerk he is, the other part wanted to believe that it was an accident and that there's still hope.

The following days were the same, I only left my room to eat or go to the bathroom, I missed a whole week of school, I left my phone off, in short, I disappeared for everyone except my mom. She understood that I didn't want to go to school now because I didn't want to see Matt's face, but she refused when I asked if we could move because if I did anything here it reminded me of him, and that hurt me a lot. "No, honey, we're not moving again." I was crying again, begging her to leave. "Mom, please!" I said in my broken voice, full of pain. My mom's heart broke seeing me like that, but she couldn't take a step back again. "Honey, listen, when your father... passed away, I couldn't go back home because I was afraid of having to start over without him. He was the engine of my life." Her eyes began to fill with tears, she paused to catch her breath and spoke again, "That's why we moved, because I couldn't go back home and see all his things. But now that some time has passed, I could think about it better and I think maybe it wasn't the best thing on my part, because with that I taught you that if something bothers you you have to run away from it, and no, you have to talk. I barely knew Matt, but he seems like a good guy, and it shows that he really loves you and would never do anything to make you feel bad." She finished and I saw a tear fall and roll down her face. "Mom..." I said in a weak voice. "Honey, talk to him." "I... I can't," and with that I ran to my room and locked myself in again.

When the weekend arrived, I found myself out of my room, in the living room, listening to music again after so many days. As the first song was about to start, I heard the doorbell ring. Who was it? I wondered. Honestly, I didn't want to see anyone, especially at that moment, because I had red and swollen eyes, my hair in a messy bun, a big t-shirt and shorts.

But I didn't think about it much either, so I quickly got up from the couch and walked to the door. The doorbell rang again, it seemed like the person behind the door was desperate. "I'm coming!" I said, a little annoyed by the impatience. I opened the door and there was Nick, who looked very worried, and as if he had been crying, but little compared to what I had cried. "Y/n, I need help," Nick said. I knew this was serious, because he went straight to the point, without greeting or anything. Before I could ask, Nick explained what was happening: "Matt... he's not eating, he's not talking, he won't leave the room, Y/n please, we've tried everything, but-" I interrupted him, "Wait, wait, what happened to him?" I couldn't believe it, Matt was bad, very bad. Could it be because of...? "When you ran out that night, we went after Matt and found him crying on the floor. We took him home, we tried to talk to him, but he doesn't answer, he just locked himself in the room and won't come out. I'm afraid he's going to do something bad. I'm scared, Y/n."

I knew what happened between us had affected him, but hearing it from Nick? This is terrible. Nick is never afraid of anything. I knew I had to do something to help his brother, as much as it hurt me, Nick and his brothers were still my friends and seeing him so devastated broke my heart.

I tried to calm him down a bit, we spent some time together, but my mind was fixed on Matt, I had to help him. So when Nick left, I turned on my phone, after a few days off. And there were millions of messages from Matt, of all kinds, but they all ended with an 'I love you, I'm sorry'. I can't deny that my heart didn't break as I read the messages.

I couldn't wait any longer, there was no more time, I changed into a more comfortable outfit, greeted my mom and left the house, to head towards the triplets' house.

a/n: I cried writing this chapter. What happens when she goes to their house? I can't wait

love yall:))

[christinarowie332]

stupid kids in love

part three to “stupid horny fucks”

warnings : angst , SMUT !!!! , kinda fluff . sub chris if u squint . cock warming . m! receiving , f!riding . SMUTTTTTTTT

—————-

“what?” i cut him off , it feels like a punch to the gut . a thousand different things race my mind , the loudest drowning the rest out . what the fuck does that mean .

“look i don’t fucking know what to say . it was a stupid thing to do i know but you don’t understand, i have literally been fucking fighting myself with the knowledge that i am literally obsessed with you . i’m talking like … i can’t actually imagine myself with someone that isn’t you , and i know u shouldn’t have a one time fuck with a friend or someone your in love with but i fucking did , and i’m sorry that i made it awkward and i’m sorry you don’t feel the same and i’m sorry i didn’t tell u before and i’m sorry that i don’t fucking regret it .” chris finishes his incessant ramble and i’m stood frozen . literally everything he has just said was insane . like it feels like a dream . maybe a nightmare.

“chris”

“and i’m sorry that it happened the way it did , i feel like fucking shit knowing that was your first time and it was bad , i wish i could go back and stop myself . i’m so fucking sorry” he cuts me off , basically pleading with me . i wouldn’t be suprised if he got down on his knees and started praying. with all of his apologies ,all i can think about is holding him , he has absolutely nothing to be sorry for , i feel the exact same as he does. so why the fuck am i still frozen. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL FROZEN .

“chris i love you”

“please just hear me out- wait what” he cuts himself off and meets my eyes . his eyebrows soften before they furrow in confusion. i step forward , taking his face in my hands , searching each of his eyes , watching the tears that were flowing over his cheeks stop . i didn’t notice until now ive been doing the same , they pool on my chin , dripping down my collarbones and soothing the same place he had kissed me a week ago .

“chris i have loved you for years . don’t u dare apologize for anything, i was insecure and overthinking. i don’t regret the sex if you don’t , it was fucking perfect. please don’t run away now .” i say quietly, i silently pray he understands. that he believes me .

“u were the one who ran away” he says , refusing to meet my eyes , it was as if he thought that if he looked up , i would disappear. i grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me , his usual confidence gone in my grip . “and i will spend forever trying to make it up to you chris .” i reply , my lip shaking under my teeth as i try and hold back a sob , he needs me as much as i need him . he’s wanted me as long as i’ve wanted him . i have nothing to worry about .

we stay in silence for a while , before i tug him forward into me . his arms latching around me tighter then ever . i’m not going anywhere, i want to say . but the pressure of his body against mine finally silences the voice in my head , i completely melt in his grip . the scent of his cologne and just him flood my senses as my face rubs against the soft material of his sweatshirt .

he tilts my head to look at him , the blue of his eyes almost gone as the darkness of my hallway makes him seem like a shadow . almost unreal to look at . but he is real . i know this because his lips touch mine in a way they never have before , slowly melting into his touch as his tongue softly caresses mine , his hands move from my back . slowly trailing to my face as he pulls me closer , deepening the kiss impossibly closer . i kiss him back with the same amount of passion. no . love . that’s the only word for how his lips move against mine . how his hand moves to my neck, his thumb brushing against my pulsing veins . he could have his hands wrapped around my neck and i would trust him . i would let him squeeze the last breath of air in my lungs just to have this be my last memory.

i walk him to the wall , my lips never leaving his , his back hits it and as soon as it does he flips us around , pinning my back against the cold object . his body is basically attached to mine as he presses his pelvis to me, slowly rolling his hips against mine as i match the movement. our pace quickens , the soft kiss turns into a hungry one , soft groans as we explore each others body like the first time , his hand reaches towards my thigh and trails towards my knee, lifting my leg as i wrap it around his waist . my hand that was once on his face makes it to his chest as i push him towards my living room , never once breaking contact with his lips .

the moment i feel him hault and hit the edge of the couch , i push him down . immediately straddling his lap and pushing his hair back through my fingers , feeling the soft strands gently slide over my skin . i re-attach our lips , he pulls away but i chase his lips still looking for contact . “y/n this isn’t-“ i kiss him again , cutting him off but he moves back and swerves my attempt to carry on .”y/n listen to me “ i look from his lips up to him, “i need you to know that this isn’t the only think i want . it’s not just for the sex , i want you . i need you. it’s always been you . i should have said that before but i was just-“

“stop apologizing.” i say putting my hands on his chest to i can see him properly, “chris , we were stupid horny fucks , it was both of us , i don’t fucking regret it so just kiss me!” within a second of my words leaving my throat, his lips were on mine again . his hands travel to my ass , lifting me as i grind against him , my hands grab my t-shirt , lifting it over my head . his eyes fly to my chest , before dunking his head into the skin and sucking dark marks into it making my head throw back and my hand to grab his messy hair . after a few seconds i tug on the brunette strands , making his lips detach from my throat and look at me with the most attractive expression i’ve ever seen . his lips were plump and pink, along with his nose and cheeks, his eyes droopy and black as his pupils dilate . his lips were slightly parted so i took the chance to slide my thumb against his bottom lip , pulling it down and watching him squirm underneath my core , feeling his very hard dick against my clothes .

“for someone who doesn’t care about the sex , your little friend sure does …” i whisper while moving my hand to his face , tracing his cheek bone with my thumb gently . moving my hips against the hard object prodding at my pelvis . he whines slightly at the movement, making my lips turn into a smirk , producing a breathy laugh from him . “are you okay with this?” i ask playing with the hem of his shirt , asking to take it off , he nods and starts to help me . i smack his hand , resulting in a very confused look from him , i ignore him and pull it over his head , throwing it to the ground and getting off his lap to kneel in front of the couch. “and …are you okay with this ?” i ask looking up at him through my eyelashes , putting two fingers under the band of his sweatpants , running it across the ragged elastic material . he nods quickly and i take my hand away . “chris , words please baby” i say sitting on my heels and waiting for him to answer me .

“yes, fuck please” he says , letting out the air he was holding in anticipation. i smile at him and place my fingers under the band again , pulling them down . he raises his hips letting the sweatpants free for me too move down his legs , letting them pool around his feet . my hand ghosts over his cock , slowly moving up and down the material of his boxers , feeling him twitch . ”please” he breathes out . “please what?” i reply , loving the power this gave me . i could practically feel the pool between my legs , it should be teasing him but all it’s doing is making me wetter . he doesn’t need to know that though .

“touch . please just touch me y/n” he says , attempting to pull his boxers down. i take the fabric from his hands and pulling it down the rest of the way . his dick springs up and almost hits me in the face , making us both laugh, but he quickly gets serious when i grab his dick with my hand and spit down on the tip . his head throws back , shakey breaths and whines from his throat as i kiss his tip , tongue rolling around the sensitive skin . i take half of him in my mouth, letting my hand work the rest . slowly sliding my head up and down his dick , my lips rolling over his veins as he takes my hair into a makeshift ponytail and pushes he down further . my nails drag into his skin as i try not to gag as his tip hits the back of my throat , leaving red marks down his thigh , lewd sounds coming from both of us as i moan around his cock.

he pulls me up by my hair arruptly , my chest sliding against his dick as i come up , making him shutter and whimper. “what?” i ask , thinking i did something wrong or that he was in pain, “i was literally about to cum down your throat?” he says breathlessly, tilting his head slightly and furrowing his eyebrows .

“and u think i didn’t want that?” i ask as confused as him . he just relaxes and smirks, looking down at my lips and kissing me slowly . i pull away , pushing my sweatpants and my underwear down together , wanting more then anything to feel him inside of me , i straddle him again , letting my folds slide against his dick . he grabs his dick and slides the tip up and down . “jesus y/n” he says , referring to the fact i am basically fucking dripping at this point , i just roll my eyes and change the subject, “you ready?” i say , he smiles . “shouldn’t i be the one saying that?” i just tilt my head at his words , raising my eyebrows. “yes y/n” he continues .

as soon as the words leave his mouth i sink down on him , too fast . i can literally feel myself burn , he notices and kisses my lips again , brushing the hair from my face with one hand , wrapping the other around my waist to lift me up . “you okay” he speaks with concern , i humm in reply and slowly start to lift myself on him . slowly the pain turns to pleasure. feeling him deep inside of me . rolling my hips to get a deeper feeling , i drop my head to the crook of his neck leaving open mouthed kisses on the skin , breathing heavy and letting soft moans fall from my lips as he starts to thrust upwards . his hands are on my waist , before moving to my ass , helping me lift myself on his dick , he grips it hard enough to leave bruises , but the feeling in my stomach overshadows that pain as i feel the knot slowly start to gain more tension.

“chris , mmh, fuck” i breathe out before putting my hands on his chest and pushing myself up to look at him .”chris- FUCK … chris i’m close.” he lets out a strained moan , before nodding frantically and bringing his hand down to my clit , running fast circles on the bundle of nerves . my nails dig into his chest as i half-ball my fists and run them down his chest . he bites his lip harshly , attempting to muffle his own noises, but ultimately the sounds that leave his throat are breathy groans as his dick twitches inside of me .

the room that encapsulates us are filled will loud grunts and high pitched moans as we both completely undone around each other . i clench around him after i feel his warmth shoot inside of me , painting my insides white as i come almost straight after him . a string of curses leave our mouths before i collapse on his chest. listening to his quickened heart beat in my ears , feeling his hands rub up and down my breath as we both come down from our highs .

after a while i go to get up but he stops me . “is anyone home tonight?” he asks me , running his fingers through my sweat drowned hair .

“no why?” i ask , relaxing into his touch . “let’s just sleep like this” he says grabbing a blanket and covering us both on the sofa . i nod and lie back down on his chest , resting my head on his shoulder , breathing in his scent on his neck . he grabs he around my shoulders and wraps his legs around me , swinging us to the side so we can lie down on the sofa properly. his dick slides out slightly so i take the opportunity to wrap my legs around him and push myself closer to him . he lets out a small whimper at the sensitivity and i giggle , apologize and kiss his neck as i get comfortable against his body again .

“hope you know we’re defo not gonna be friends after this” he says , making me look up to him .”ur my girl now , you know that?” he says smiling and placing a small kiss to my forehead .

“yeah i’d fucking think so”

—————

hope i did y’all proud ☝🏻 i feel like im going to hell for writing this .

—

taglist:

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @kvtie444@kenzieiskoolaid @urmyslxt @chrisenthusiast @mattslolita @iheart2021chris @parkerssecrets @recklesssturniolo @lovingsturniolo @paper-crab @daddyslilchickenfingers @strniohoeee @ermdontmindthisaccount @sturnphilia @bluesturniolo333 @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @chrisolivia4l @freshlovehacker @its-jennarose @kitaysworld @liz-stxrn @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @flowerxbunnie @mattsbratt @slut4chr1s @oversturn @mbbsgf @fredswh0re @nickenthusiast

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XVI (kinda? Idk. Explanation in the note.)

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. I would say reader is ooc in this one, or it might feel like that. I don't know. There are also mentions of a difficult family situation (awful father, deceased mother, etc.)... Oh, and this almost makes me look anti-Gojo (I'm not, though).

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part IV, Part XV

----------------------

“Aomori?” you repeated in disbelief. Isn’t that like…?”

Haruki leaned forward on his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands in frustration. You watched his fingers bury themselves in his brown curls and tug them.

“It’s about a ten-hour bus ride or four hours in the train...” he said without looking at you. His eyes were on the table, and you could only see the top of his head. “That if I’m lucky… Which I am not, obviously,” he grumbled and lifted his head to look at you.

You two were at the coffee shop where he worked, or rather, used to work. He had submitted his resignation the day before.

“That’s far.” You were not sure of what else to say. The notice of his departure was coming in too sudden. Only a few days ago you had been talking about maybe meeting up on New Year’s Eve, and now he was leaving? “For… For how long?”

Ikeda looked outside and shrugged. “He’s transferring me there so I guess he means at least until the end of high school, and then…” he frowned. In fact, he was not sure of what would happen after that. “I’m sure that jerk will come up with something else.”

Haruki looked back at you and, realizing what he had said, quickly apologized for speaking like that in front of you.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t believe he did this behind my back. I knew he could not stand seeing me, but I never thought he would plan something like this and ambush me any other Tuesday.”

He sighed, and you looked at him with sympathy. It was the most distressed you had ever seen him, and the most upset too.

Haruki, who always looked happy and unbothered when he was with you, had only ever appeared uncomfortable, and sometimes even angered, when he spoke about his father. At first, you had believed they just did not get along, but it was more than that; Haruki had told you once that his father seemed to resent him since his mother left.

“I’ve never blamed her,” he told you one day while you waited for his train, “she was sick and he was never at home, but when he was, he was horrible to her.”

He had then showed you her picture. A beautiful woman with long brown hair and bright eyes a few shades clearer than her locks, smiling and hugging an eight-year-old Haruki; he had definitely gotten the looks from her, and it was evident she had loved him dearly.

Due to her illness, Haruki’s mother had passed away just a couple years after leaving her husband, before she was able to fulfill her promise to his son to come back for him. Hence, Haruki had ended up stuck with a resentful father who was almost never at home, but when he was, he was as horrible to his son as he had been to the mother he resembled. And now, he was sending him to live with his uncle in a distant prefecture to attend a new school.

He had given Haruki little less than a week to, and the boy quoted, “wrap up any business in Tokyo.”

Apparently, that included you, who did your best to comfort him, even if there was not much you could say or do.

“I will miss you,” Ikeda said after you assured him it would be alright and that two or three years would sure fly by, and then he would not need to listen to what his father or his uncle said. It seemed his mood had improved a little at that.

“I will miss you too,” you told him, still wrapping your head around the idea of not seeing him anymore.

If only you could see curses, maybe there would be another way out for you, maybe we could have more time.

You pushed that thought away. That was selfish thinking, was it not? Of course, you would not want Haruki to live in gore and pain as a sorcerer. There had to be better, more peaceful options for him somewhere.

“I like you a lot.” His words pulled you out of your head, and when your eyes focused on him, you noticed his face was flushed, but he was looking right at you. “I think I could have loved you. Not that I don’t now,” he smiled softly, “but in the way I wanted to love you.”

There was a tinge of sadness in his voice, but your heart was beating faster as he spoke. Did that mean you wanted to love him too?

“I…” you started, but he shook his head and smiled.

“It’s fine. I thought we had more time, so I did not tell you sooner, but now, I just realized I wanted to let you know in person.”

Haruki had not planned to confess that day. He was only going to tell you he was leaving and ask you to stay in touch but realizing that it might be the last time he was going to see you in, perhaps, a long time, he felt he needed to tell you. He had wanted to tell you since the first time you had accepted going out with him that summer, but he then thought it was better not to rush and just let your friendship take its course.

At the end of the day, people should honor their feelings.

That he believed whole-heartedly. That is why Gojo’s attitude had annoyed him, acting as a jealous boyfriend around you if he was nearby but still claiming to be just your friend. If he wanted more, he should admit it instead of doing whatever he thought he was doing that day he accompanied him to the station.

“Haruki, I like you too,” you said sincerely.

But do you like me as I like you? the boy wondered.

He would not ask you that as he would not ask for more at this point. What could he ask, that you waited for him? He was not that arrogant to believe you had to do it nor that idealistic to make promises he knew time could swallow. Knowing that you had cared about him was enough.

He gave you a closed-eye smile. “I’m so glad.”

***

But saying it had not changed anything. You and Haruki had agreed to staying in touch and he had hugged you tightly before letting you go.

Maybe he knew we would drift apart.

You had kept texting and calling each other after that. Once he was with his uncle, he had given you his address, so you could exchange letters; he even sent you a few postcards with some pretty views around his new city. For a little while, you thought you could remain friends and just live on it, but his absence became increasingly painful, and when you both got busy with school again, and he was barely replying to your messages and his letters felt distant, the realization that maybe you had truly loved and lost was devastating.

It happened slowly but not painlessly. There was just never a good time for a quick call anymore, the messages were fewer and shorter, and you probably did not reply to the last one because there was nothing to say, and finally, the letters. Oh, the letters... Once funny and vibrant as your friend had been, they became nothing but curt and disappointing. It was hard to believe that two people who once had so much to talk about could barely bring themselves to write more than a few lines for each other.

I guess people can enter your life seamlessly, but they can hardly leave like that.

Your friends comforted you to their best, and Satoru made it his mission to ensure you would not feel lonely doing the things you liked anymore. Despite your protests, he attached himself to your hip as he had done it when you were kids, even on the days when you did not want to leave your room.

And when, months after Haruki’s departure, you sat down in front of the training fields, tired of waiting for a letter that would not come, Satoru held your hand firmly as you accepted your loss and stayed by your side unfaltering, the same way you would do for him when Suguru left you all later down the road.

That was how, as the seasons changed, you quietly let go of your friend who had been a child of the spring himself.

----------------------

Note: I almost did not want to include this part? I mean, I felt like the other guy needed some explaining, and as much as I enjoyed it, I would say this is almost a filler, so I'm sorry of it's bad. Anyways, if the next part is not the last one, it will sure bring us quite closer. I've not forgotten where I left Satoru, promise!

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XVII

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler @sadmonke @allie-jay @username23345 @spin-garden @ashehateaccount @kayzens @blehtotheblehtothebleh @stellasloth @bloopsstuff

[nekokoaa]

The Agreement - Miguel O'Hara x Therapist!Reader (II)

Summary: It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.

In other words, you and Miguel make a deal.

Rated Explicit, fluff, smut

3.1K words | (2/5) chapters

Chapters:

(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V)

Author's notes: Good news, this fic has been extended to 5 chapters! 6 if I decide to do a chapter in Miguel's POV. We'll see! Also I think some people reached out to me about a tag list! Definitely comment on this post if you want to be added :)

Also on AO3

II.

The first session was the staple of this agreement for a while. To the point where it felt like you were disturbing Miguel when you would appear after his missions. You thought it was when he needed you the most. With the job comes the stress—the anxiety. Every spider-person knew that whether you were one month in or had years on the job. You all knew there was only one person who could protect the people and it was a cesspool of pressure all spider-people were carrying. 

Including Miguel.

So you would visit him after his missions with the intention of closing that cesspool. And every time, he would greet you with that scowl on his face. It would be there from the beginning to the moment you're sliding your hand over his, innocently, gently. A touch he hasn’t felt in God knows how long. A touch he ignored he needed, but never complained about.

In the first few sessions, little was said between you two. Mostly talked about mission statuses and the mental health of the spider-people. Within time, the topics expanded to your universes and your homes. Nueva York being his. New York was yours. And later, by the end of every session, you were discovering layers of Miguel most didn’t know about.

It left you curious to the point where you looked forward to his sessions every week. You tried not to cross any boundaries—but you ended up sharing more about yourself with him than other spider-people. Usually, you were the one listening and advising.

“Cat got your tongue, has it?” It wasn’t the sound of Hobie’s voice that pulled you from your thoughts but the light strum of his guitar, the normally loud instrument’s sound was weakened without an amp. As always, he lounged on your office couch, feet kicked up on the armrest with his guitar on his lap. 

“Not necessarily,” you responded, feeling embarrassed that you had spaced out when he was talking. Noticing, Hobie smirked. He loved it when things seemed awry.

“I seen it all. Little Miss Perfect in her head. Maybe I should be the doc and you’re the patient, yeah?”

“Maybe we should start having these sessions during the day. You do know it’s 1 AM.” Late sessions with Hobie felt more like you were hanging out with a friend. A waste of time but much-needed company.

“So?” Hobie shrugged, a melody was released from the strings. “Night is when the fun happens, mate.”

And Hobie was right. Your sessions with Miguel were always late in the night when most spider-people returned to their universes. Miguel would still be working, red eyes on those orange screens. You would be next to him, close to where you could feel each other’s heat. Sometimes presence was just enough. During these sessions, the clock’s minute hand would move a little too fast. An hour went by like a minute and then you would overstay. You didn’t know what to call those moments after. It was better to not give them a name.

You would leave and return with two coffees. Miguel would thank you, pulling away from his work and then you would chat till the night aged. The night never expired without hearing one of Miguel’s witty but rude comments.

And when you would give him a smile and your hand went on his bicep, it meant you were leaving.

It meant the fun was over.

Yeah, Hobie was definitely right. You were way too much in your head. Even now as the clocks strike 10 PM as you waited for Miguel in his office. Tonight wasn’t a session, but you wanted to check in to see how he was doing. That was normal, right? Checking in? Not like you did it to anyone else but it was still normal in your mind.

It was better than returning to your universe—to your empty white-walled apartment. There were memories buried within that place that you would like to forget.

First came the tremors, and then the tiny hairs on your skin erected. The pen you were holding slipped from your fingers, levitating above you. Gravity no longer existed for small objects and the air became dry but moist at the same time. It was like logic itself was confused as reality was torn open by a yellow portal and who emerged from it was, of course, Miguel fully covered in his spider suit. The sight so familiar, you had thought back to when you were first recruited by the Spider Society. 

Imprisoned by the white walls of your apartment, you felt that same energy shift and that yellow portal appeared in your room like a stain. But to you, it was a hexagonal halo around Miguel who emerged from it, reaching into your universe, saying the words, “doc, we need your help.”

Life was never dull after that.

“Do I look like a blue panther to you?” Miguel approached you with his arms out. You hummed, turning your head sideways as your eyes trace over Miguel’s figure. The yellow portal closed behind him, and soon reality had returned to its natural state. You could feel Miguel getting annoyed the longer it took for you to answer. His hands went on his hips, eyes narrowing.

“Wellll….”

“Ugh, give me a break,” he brushed past you as you laughed. You followed him, grabbing hold of his arm to stop him from walking away.

“I’m kidding! Kidding!”

“ Ha ha ,” he scoffed, shrugging his arm out of your grasp. Like a red laser, his webs shot out from his wrist and he lifted himself onto his floating platform. Even after his missions, he still dived back into work. “Lyla, create a new recruit profile for Gwen Stacy, Spider-Woman from Earth-65.”

“Earth-65?” You webbed yourself after him, peeking from behind his back to look at the orange-screened monitors. “I thought that was one of the universes we’re not recruiting.”

“Jess wanted her to join. She helped us capture Vulture and… I guess she did a pretty good job at it.” Miguel pulled up a hologram of the security camera in the Villains Cell Block. Jess was processing the captured Vulture to send him home in the next line up and next to her was a teenager with blond hair, the ends of it dyed soft pink. You assumed that was Gwen as Miguel zoomed in on her face.

It was rare to impress Miguel so much that he was willing to bend his own rules. Gwen Stacy from 65 was friends with the anomaly. “Cool, then I’ll schedule a session with her. Can’t wait to meet her.”

“What are you even doing here anyway?” Miguel asked, giving you a side-eye glance as he swiped the hologram away. A few more popped up about the last mission he was on and a couple more he had to do in the future. “We did our session this week.”

“Aah,” you had rehearsed your reason several times before arriving in his office and your mind still came up blank. “Just… checking in.”

You could tell he raised his eyebrow behind his mask, “Checking in?”

“Uh yeah, isn’t that normal?” You so wanted to bury yourself underground.

“Then you must have a lot of free time on your hands, doc.” Miguel shook his head, not bothering to inquire more. Not like he had any time to. His mask disintegrated and he shifted his focus to his work. You would’ve left him alone at that point because Miguel didn’t like to be disturbed once he got started until you noticed something off about his face.

“What happened to your lip?” You asked, noticing the dried blotch of blood on the corner of his bottom lip. It even looked a bit swollen.

He let out something like a sigh, a groan, or something in between before speaking quickly. “I don’t know probably happened in the fight or something—Lyla!”

“You should treat it. It could get worse, maybe even infected.” Your fingers grazed his jaw, tilting his head slightly up while tiptoeing to examine the cut. Perhaps, it was because of these sessions that you have gotten so used to touching Miguel. Before, you would’ve earned a warning scratch on your hand by now so something had changed in him as well.

“Infected?” Miguel let out a condescending laugh, his fangs making an appearance. His brown eyes deepened into red as they looked you down. It was almost as if he was mocking you. “Don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

“Does it matter? We’re still human, aren’t we?” It was a question you received so often from your patients that you suddenly found yourself asking that exact same thing. You had yet to find an answer that made sense. Yes, you’re human. No, you’re not. Maybe it was easier to not create a binary answer and to just go with what you believed in. At least that’s what you told your patients when they sat on your office couch. They seemed to have accepted that answer.

Miguel, however, felt different. He turned to face you, his large hand encircling your wrist as he pulled your hand away from his face. He stepped forward with a slight sway, and that was when you realized the size difference between you two. He might as well have been a skyscraper, casting a shadow over your figure and shielding you from the orange glow of the screens. His head was tilted up but his eyes—damn, his eyes barreled down on you, locked on like a sniper scope. It was predatory. And you had never felt so small before in your life. 

“More than,” he answered lowly, releasing your hand from his grip and then he returned to his work.

You stood there, holding your wrist which was hot to the touch as your heart boomed against your ear drums. There was a dull ache in your head and shivers ran up your spine. It could only mean one thing. Your spidey senses were alerted. It happened a couple of times when Miguel would get this way. But he never hurt you. He would never. So why was every fiber of your being telling you to run from him?

You swallowed air, anything to get yourself to calm down. Hesitating, you glanced at Miguel who had buried himself in his work, seeming to have forgotten you were in the room. 

More than human. You had never thought of yourself more superior to the people you were saving. Maybe it was because you used to believe you were the only one with powers in your entire universe. It was easier to think of yourself as an unfortunate freak burdened with the duty of justice. But when you walk the halls of HQ, surrounded by like-minded spider-people in staggering numbers, you could understand Miguel’s point of view. All of you were strong, intellectually smart, and capable of doing extraordinary things that are beyond the capabilities of humans. And then you have Mayday who was born with these abilities. 

You knew the dangers that could come with having a superiority complex. Even then, Miguel was someone you couldn’t exactly leave alone no matter what he thought or how often he pushed you away. It wasn’t something you could explain. Did a moth ever question why it was attracted to the light, beautiful but deadly to its soul? All you knew was that it was better than being alone wandering aimlessly in the dark.

You left and returned with a medkit in your hands. A tap on Miguel’s shoulder earned quiet mumbles from him, claiming he was going insane for being interrupted before he looked at you, brown eyes flicking between the medkit and your face. 

You were as stubborn as he was and he knew you wouldn’t get off his back unless you got what you wanted. So, with a sigh, Miguel followed you off the platform to a large metal block you urged him to sit on.

You opened the medkit, pulling out the items you needed to treat his wound. Miguel stayed quiet. You could feel his eyes on your face, looking over every part of you. It was hard to ignore it considering how piercing his stare could get like he was trying to uncover the deepest parts of your soul.

“God, I feel like I’m always giving in to you,” he spitted out, hissing when you pressed a moist rag to his lip a little too hard.

“Good.”

“Just means you’re always in my way.”

“Still a good thing.”

He rolled his eyes and then they went right back on you. You were so focused on cleaning the blood off his lip that you didn’t notice how close you got to his face.

“You know, puedes sentarte .” You were startled to hear another language in your ear. More or less, you understood him, moving to sit next to him until you felt Miguel’s hand on your hip stopping you mid-motion to guide you on top of his lap. “Better.” 

You let out a less than graceful squeak, cheeks flushing, “O-Okay.” You were taken aback but then you remembered the agreement. As long as there was no kissing, no sex, then this was fine, right?

You continued to tend to Miguel’s cut, ignoring your steadily rising heart rate, but you were also admiring Miguel’s face. His high cheekbones, sharp jaw, and loose curly hair were perfectly combed back. He was definitely a handsome man and he had the most perfect body. You have never seen such wide shoulders in your life.

“You’re like a mother—sort of.”

“What the fuck,” you frowned. It wasn’t something you wanted to hear while sitting on this man’s lap especially when you were internally praising him.

“There was a time when I came home from school with my lip busted after beating up this bully and my mom did what you’re doing.” It was slight but Miguel’s expression softened. He was looking at you but you could tell the warmth in his eyes was from recalling an old memory. It was the first time he brought up his family, and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You were a troublesome kid, weren’t you?” You joked, placing a small bandage over his cut.

“My dad thought I was too, probably why he busted the other side of my lip after.”

You stiffened, smile immediately dropping. You weren’t foreign to domestic violence stories from your patients back in your universe. It was a sensitive topic, but knowing Miguel, he didn’t want to be coddled about it.

“Sorry,” your fingers brushed the other side of his lip. There was no cut there but you could imagine the pain he went through when his father struck him. “Your dad sounds like an asshole.”

“He was.”

“I… wanted to be one, a mother,” you admitted. “When I got married to Harry, I couldn’t wait to start a family. I wanted a little girl like Mayday, cute with the fattest cheeks. But I only had a 5% chance of conceiving, my doctor told me it was nearly impossible, and when Harry found out… Well, he divorced me. Something about my inability to continue the Osborn family line...”

You spoke without looking at him. You were still ashamed of the reason for your divorce. Harry made it feel like you were a failure of a woman. He was a misogynistic asshole that only viewed women as a means to continue his family line. You wondered what spell he cast on you to make you fall in love with him because looking back, he never seriously cared about you as a person.

It took you a year and a half to recover from the hurt. The white walls of your apartment would remind you of every argument you had with him, of when he berated you, of when he made you feel less than. You spiraled into a hole you never wanted to be in again.

Little Miss Perfect. Gosh, you were far from it.

You noticed Miguel’s hand was stroking your thigh. He looked… sad. He probably understood you the most when it came to wanting a family.

“It’s a canon event for some, you know. A spider-person must go through a breakup… But after, we always find love, right?” You shrugged, smiling softly after.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” It was rare to hear Miguel sound soft, his voice lower than you ever heard it before. His large hand never stopped treading along your thigh to your hips and then back down again. Slow and agonizing, mapping out your shape. You wondered when you got so close to him, both hands resting on his strong shoulders, chests nearly together. You were slowly gravitating towards him—to the heat of his lips. Those red eyes were normally deadly but now it was with something else, flicking between your lips and eyes. Want, desire, and everything in between.

Surely, you didn’t know what to call this moment. It was better to not give it a name. It was better to just give in because it’s been so so long since you’ve been touched. Didn’t you deserve it? Didn’t he? The hand upon your thigh felt hot, you could feel it through your spidey suit. How glorious would it be if it was upon your bare skin?

Your head was too noisy. Your morals screaming. No kissing! No sex! He’s your patient! Any excuse you thought of appeared, making you resist.

It was too much. You lowered your head before Miguel could lean in any further. His lips were so close that his hot breath was brushing your cheek in waves. You couldn’t bear it so you slightly pushed against his chest to create some space. “I… have to go.”

You managed to say, moving to stand but you felt resistance from his hand on your hip as it held you in place. You and Miguel shared a look. For once, he wanted you to stay.

But you weren’t going to be held back by that look in his eyes.

“Good night, Miguel…” With a flick of your wrist, a string of webs shot out towards the ceiling and you quickly slipped yourself out of Miguel’s hold and out of his office. 

Miguel remained still for a moment, almost like he was frozen in time. But once it settled with him that you left, his hand that was on your hip closed so tight into a fist, it began to tremble. A heavy sigh passed through his lips while his other hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose. He just needed a moment. 

Just a moment to realize not everything he holds in his arms disappears from his life for good.

Within time, he spoke.

“Lyla.”

Lyla generated next to him, floating by his head. “Yeah, Miguel?”

“Did you finish creating the profile?”

“One, you didn’t say please. Two, I didn’t want to interrupt,” grinned Lyla.

Miguel groaned until his back met with metal and draped an arm over his eyes. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for jokes?”

“When are you ever?” Lyla was expecting Miguel’s usual quips to her antics, but when she received nothing but silence from him, she frowned and gave in to his request. “Fiiiine, profile was done ages ago but I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Next Chapter

[steddieas-shegoes]

For the requests: Steve has a good relationship with his parents & when they come back from wherever & someone (Nancy/Robin) tells them about the UD & his parents react by calling out every single adult involved. Maybe he got badly hurt, & they were called in & upon finding out they call out Joyce, Hop, Owens & Murray for the way no adult inthese kids lives had any clue about what their kids were going through. Nor were their parents given notice esp bc having underaged kids sign NDAs is not legal nor legally binfing (Maybe all the parents of the party kids are there and get all the info just like the Harrington's)

MY DARLING! LIGHT OF MY LIFE! HONESTLY this one hit different. You know how much I love making Steve suffer and when he has good parents, a lot of his suffering disappears. But it was nice to branch out a bit. Also finally some common sense! KIDS SHOULD NEVER BE SIGNING AN NDA THEMS THE FACTS! Steve's parents are here to fight for everyone so WELCOME TO THE CHAOS OF STEVE'S OVERPROTECTIVE LAWYER PARENTS! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Steve Harrington had managed to avoid the hospital for years. Not because he shouldn’t have gone, but because he refused to go.

But this time, he was unconscious, which means he didn’t have a choice.

And now, staring at his parents’ shocked and appalled faces next to his bed, he realized he wished he’d just died, actually.

“This happens…often?” Anne Harrington asked Dr. Owens, who looked like he wished he was also dead.

“It does happen more often than we like. But it appears to be fixed now! Steven has been a wonderful asset to us, which is why we want to make sure he is comfortable and all his medical expenses are paid.”

He handled that well, Steve thought.

“And this is the first time anyone has bothered to call us?” Richard Harrington asked much too quietly.

That was his ‘I’m about to lose my shit’ voice and Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“I do apologize, we had to deal with enough NDAs as it is,” Dr. Owens replied, not realizing that he was speaking to two lawyers who were about to ruin his life.

Steve let his head rest against the pillow of the hospital bed, sighing.

“At what age did Steve sign his first NDA?”

“I believe he was 16.”

“And did he have a lawyer present?” Anne didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “I can tell you he didn’t. We’re his lawyers and we were not even called. Are you the one in charge of this shitshow?”

It wasn’t often Anne Harrington said a curse word. Steve only ever heard it a handful of times, usually after hanging up with a client who would lose their case.

“I am one of the people who is tasked with this, yes. But if you don’t mind, I need to check in with a few people before I can truly devote time to this conversation.”

“Oh, please. Continue on with your day. Don’t mind us sitting next to our son in the hospital.”

Dr. Owens sighed, knowing this fight was barely even starting, and left the room.

Steve’s parents turned to him.

“How many concussions have you had?”

“Why didn’t you call us?”

“Who else knows about this?”

“Will this happen again?”

The questions were too much, and Steve’s head was pounding. He couldn’t do this right now.

“Hopper.”

“Jim Hopper? I thought he died.”

Admittedly, his parents had been out of town for a while. They didn’t know Hopper was back as of a few months ago, and probably didn’t realize he’d taken over as chief again.

“He didn’t. He’s around here somewhere.”

“He knew about all this?”

“Mom, I love you, but my head is splitting down the middle. I need to stop talking.”

Anne slowly brushed her hand through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Of course, honey. We’ll be back soon. Do not sign anything without us here, okay?”

“Okay.”

His dad briefly touched his shoulder before they both left the room.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Until he was woken up by yelling.

Not just any yelling. Richard Harrington yelling.

If he wasn’t chained to the bed by an IV and blood transfusion bag, he would be up and in the hallway.

Apparently, he didn’t need to worry, though.

His mom came into the room, leaving the door open to the hallway so he could hear everything.

“I’m glad you’re awake, honey. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Who is he yelling at?”

“Every adult who didn’t bother to take care of you the way they should. Not just you, but all of these kids,” she said, tone more annoyed by the second.

“I don’t understand.”

“Honey, you’ve been protecting these kids in ways you never should have had to. All these adults who were involved never told any of us what was going on. They let you keep standing in the line of fire, getting hurt, seeing things you shouldn’t have to and never even bothered to call us. You signed NDAs with the government without parents or lawyers present. That alone is illegal, do you understand that?”

“So I’m in trouble?”

“Oh, honey, no. You’re not in trouble. Your dad’s having a few words with the chief and Dr. Owens.”

Steve tuned in to what was being said in the hall.

“I cannot fathom what you’ve done. Expecting these children to save this town, the world, and not even have their own parents know? Who are they supposed to turn to? You? And what have you done to help them? As far as I’m concerned, you should be arrested and imprisoned. If I have anything to say about it, you will!”

“Mom, can you please get him to stop? I know he’s upset, but Hop really protected us a lot, okay? And Dr. Owens was just doing his job.”

“A lot of people have just been doing their jobs instead of considering that maybe children shouldn’t be responsible for defeating actual monsters.”

Well. Yeah, she did have a point there.

“Where is everyone?”

Anne sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, running her thumb along the back of it.

“The Munson boy is in the room next door, he’ll be okay. Robin is home with her parents. Most of the kids are now with their parents, but that Sinclair boy is still being watched for concussion symptoms.”

Steve sighed with relief.

No one was lost. Everyone had pretty minor injuries. Maybe he was able to protect everyone.

“That Dustin boy is relentless,” Anne said with a smile. “He really looks up to you.”

“Yeah, he’s like a brother to me.”

“His mom didn’t know about any of this either, did she?”

Steve thought about it.

Honestly, she probably had some idea. Maybe not of the real details, but she had to know Dustin was involved in something he couldn’t talk about. Same with most of the parents.

But Steve’s parents were gone a lot. Their main office was in Boston, and they would often have to travel around the country for their clients. He was used to not seeing them, only getting to talk to them on the phone once or twice a week.

It’s easy to hide shit over the phone, and when they did manage to make it home, the Upside Down monsters were safely tucked away underground.

They had no way of knowing anything was wrong. He did it on purpose, just like all of the kids did.

Even without signing the NDAs, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t have told their parents.

“I think we just thought we were protecting you guys.”

“Honey, it’s not your job to protect us. It’s our job to protect you.”

She looked so sad.

Steve didn’t want her to be sad.

“Mom, you couldn’t have done anything. And we’re all safe.”

His dad walked in the room, face red. He closed the door behind him and ran his hand over his face.

“Doctor said Steve can go when the nurse comes to disconnect him from everything soon,” he said, coming to sit in the chair by his bed.

“That’s good news. We’ll get you home and settled. We canceled our flight out so we can stick around for a while and make sure you’re okay,” Anne said with a smile.

“You guys don’t have to cancel your trip. Your clients need you.”

“Not as much as you need us, son,” Richard said, giving him a soft smile.

“I’ve handled it before, though.”

“And you shouldn’t have. Trust me, this town, the government, they’ve got a shit storm coming and I’m leading it,” his dad huffed.

A knock interrupted Steve’s response, the door opening slightly before they answered.

Eddie.

“Steve? You okay?”

Steve’s parents looked at the door, then back at Steve, who was doing his best to hide the fond smile on his face.

It wasn’t working though, not when he saw the way Eddie was trying to take inventory of his injuries from across the room.

“You can come in, Eds.”

“Who’s this, honey?” Anne asked.

“This is Eddie.”

“Oh! You poor thing. I heard all about what you’ve been through. Let me just say, if we had caught wind of it earlier and knew you were Steve’s friend, we would’ve been representing you in court,” Anne rushed to say, her hands fluttering over Eddie’s when he got next to the bed.

Eddie’s wide eyes would have been amusing if Steve didn’t worry that he might run for the hills at the care his parents showed.

“Uh. Thank you?”

“Do you need anything right now? Do your parents need anything?” Richard asked, sitting forward in his chair, business face on.

“Um, just me and my uncle, but no. I’m heading home, but wanted to check on Steve before I go.”

“Of course! You guys are close friends?”

It was an innocent question. His parents just liked to know who was in his life, that’s all. But Eddie looked at him with panic written all over his face.

Steve gave him a small smile, then turned to his parents.

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend.”

They were quiet for a moment, which Steve expected. No matter how well he thought they’d take it, he knew it would be a shock.

But his parents didn’t let him down.

“How long have you been together, Steve?”

“Since March. Four months?” He watched as Eddie started to back away, probably expecting the worst.

Anne smacked Steve’s arm, forgetting for a moment that he was in the hospital for a reason.

“Sorry,” she said before crossing her arms. “You’ve had a boyfriend for four months and didn’t tell us? We could have come back and arranged dinner to meet him. I’m so sorry our son is rude, Eddie. He wasn’t raised that way, I assure you.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped.

“Um. What’s happening right now?”

“We’ll be home for a while to make sure Steve is alright. We’d love to have you over for dinner soon. With your uncle if you’d like,” Richard added as Eddie just stared between them.

“What do you like? I just got a new cookbook that has so many European dishes I want to try. Are you a fan of Polish food? You know what, no, what about Greek? We haven’t had good Greek food in so long.”

Steve was laughing, he couldn’t help it.

“Steve, what the hell is going on here?”

“Eddie, that’s my mom, Anne, and my dad, Richard. They’re kind of the best, and apparently they want you and Wayne to come for dinner. Think you can find time in your schedule?”

“Uh.”

“Oh dear. Do you have a concussion? They should monitor you kids better,” Anne worried, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks and look in his eyes. “Should I get a nurse?”

“No, mom, he’s okay. He just expected you two to freak out.”

“About what?”

“The fact he’s a man.”

“Oh! I do suppose that’s a reasonable concern.”

“Eddie, let me ask you this: do you make Steve happy?” Richard asked.

“I think so.”

“And he makes you happy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then it sounds like we have no reason to be upset. Now, dinner? Maybe tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

Steve laughed loudly.

“Eds, come here,” Steve gestured for him to come closer.

Eddie moved next to the bed, his arm bandaged, and a new cut with stitches in it on his forehead.

“Closer.”

Eddie leaned in.

Steve leaned up and kissed his lips. Just a quick peck, just enough to get the point across that this was really okay and really happening.

“Tomorrow at 6?” Steve asked before he pulled away completely.

Eddie nodded.

“And please bring your uncle, we need to discuss our plan for a lawsuit on behalf of all of you,” Richard spoke up from his chair.

“Oh. Yes, sir.” Eddie pulled away from the bed, nervously playing with his rings.

“Richard is fine, son.”

Eddie was blushing, which Steve was absolutely going to make fun of him for later.

“See you tomorrow, then?” Eddie asked awkwardly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Oh. Uh. Yep. Love you too, Stevie.”

He raced out of the room, leaving Steve and Anne laughing quietly.

“Poor boy. Didn’t know what to do, did he?”

“No, I think he isn’t used to a positive reaction when people find out about him.”

“His uncle knows about you two, though, right?”

“Yeah, Wayne’s been great.”

“Good. Well, I’m going to find a nurse so we can go home. You should be comfortable in your own bed.”

“And I am going to make a quick call to my buddy in Chicago to see if he can pull some information on this Owens guy. We have a lot of work to do.”

Steve was used to this. For some kids, maybe this wasn’t good parenting. Maybe his parents being gone for a lot of his life had a negative impact.

But Steve never doubted how much they loved him. They still came home for every birthday, every Christmas. They still managed to take a family vacation every year. They gave him everything he needed and most of what he wanted. They supported him through everything, the proof right here in front of him now.

[starb3rrys]

I've read your Tecchou breaking down... so would you mind doing the same but for Chuuya?(if it hasn't been done yet)

Like our baby needs to, considering how much he had gone through...

(Also, the comforting person can be either a genderless person or maybe Dazai... your choice)

Thank you ❤️

Aww, you’re right, poor Chuuya needs more love! I have never read stormbringer so take everything I write with a grain of salt. In addition, I apologize for the long wait but I do hope you enjoy this! ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )/

☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆

Tired Nights

Chuuya x GN!Reader

Slight angst, Fluff/Comfort

Scenario: The death anniversary of the flags was right around the corner, Chuuyas mood always seemed to be at an all time low around this time of year. Hateful thoughts, regrets, and pain flooded his mind...I suppose even the strongest of people could admit defeat at the eyes of the past || Tecchou Ver.

☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆

On a quiet afternoon, the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the numerous graves of once lively people. Your eyes scanned the quiescent area, locking onto a familiar figure sitting by five lone tombstones atop a hill.

Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked, alerting the once calm man. "Oh, it's just you.", the man said with a small sigh. "Yep, just boring old me.", you said with a neutral tone as you sat on the grass next to the man. "How'd you even find me here? Stalking me now?", the man said with an unintentionally annoyed tone.

"Oh come on, Ive known you for how many years now, Chuuya? I know you like the back of my hand...just like how I know that around this season, every year without fail, you disappear without a word and come to this graveyard.", your voice was confident as you looked at Chuuya, taking notice of his tired eyes.

Your gaze switched to the five untouched gravestones, each reading a different name but sharing the same death day. "Were they close to you?", the question left your lips in a quiet whisper. Chuuya scoffed, "That doesn't even scratch the surface...", Chuuyas hand softly swiped some dirt off one of the gravestones. "They were like my family, honestly, the only real family I've ever had."

Your once confident smile faltered into a small frown, it was rare to see Chuuya like this as you could practically hear the sadness dripping in his tone. "What happened to them?", you asked curiously.

Chuuya let out a shaky breath, "Selfish acts made by selfish people.", he grimaced. "Do you miss them?", sympathy present in your voice.

"Of course I do.", Chuuya said with a serious yet gentle tone."They were good people--maybe not in the eyes of others--but they lived fighting for my happiness...and died for my well-being...", his voice wavered. "Hey...it's not your faul-" "BUT IM NOT INNOCENT EITHER!!", Chuuya cut you off.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Chuuyas face; tears streaming down his face, teeth clenched as his eyes were glaring at you.

"I SHOULD'VE BEEN THERE! I SHOULD'VE KNOWN!", Chuuya let all of his frustrations out. "Chuuya you couldn't have known-" "BUT I SHOULD'VE! I SHOULD'VE DONE MORE! IF I CANT EVEN SAVE THOSE CLOSE TO ME, THEN WHAT IS THE POINT OF HAVING THIS OVERPOWERED ABILIT-Mnh...", Chuuya is cut off as he felt your soft lips on his, after a few seconds he melts into the kiss, instantly calming him down. You pull away and caress his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear, "Its okay...".

Chuuya tears up and moves into your arms, his head resting against your chest as quiet sobs left him. "I miss them so much..." "I know, shh... I know...".

Chuuya let out a broken chuckle, "If they could see me now, they'd probably laugh."

You kissed the top of his head, "They definitely would, you have a lot of snot and boogers right now", a giggle following your playful comment.

Chuuya rolled his eyes and sniffled against your chest, "Shut up..."

"You know you love me, Chuuya~", "Do I?", he asked sarcastically.

You both snickered, bodies close to one another as night overtook the sky...

EXTRA:

"The flags would have definitely liked you..." "Really? How so?" "Cause you're a huge pain in my ass, they'd find you funny." "I mean- not to BRAG or anything, but I make one of the port mafia executives laugh on a daily." "Really? What idiot would laugh at your lame jokes?" "I WAS TALKING ABOUT YO-"

☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆★ ☆

I love the pookie Chuuya, sadly I'm too lazy to read the translated version of stormbringer without the pictures. I always like making the reader playful yet kind with the characters, mostly because I find that dynamic funny. (Im sorry.) Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this story I did in the backseat of my car...16 hour roadtrip!! SEND HELP

[silverofthunder]

☆ the prisoner ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader || 🔞 MDNI 🔞

summary: Bying an abandoned house in the middle of the nowhere had seemed like a good idea. But as the nightmares came to plague your dreams, you started slowly to realize that the place you had thought would be a calm, safe haven to you, was anything but that.

content/warnings: 5k words, mystery (kind of), evil demonic creature!Copia, demonic powers, emotional manipulation, nightmares, self-harming, vomiting, non-con vibes, hurt (with minimal comfort), suicidal thoughts, kind of dark & twisted romance, obsessive & possessive behavior

⚫!! this fic might disturbing as there is no nice things happening; Copia is pure evil in this, so if there's something triggering, i suggest you don't read this !! ⚫

I don't know what got into me but I got this idea of something really dark and this piece was born. I've never written anything like this but oh, how fun it was to just go wickedly wild with this. Evil!Copia might own me after this. I'm also kinda scared to post this but hey, this is a work of fiction so... I went to straight into the deep end. Hope that some of you like this!

You should have known it wasn’t a good idea. Bying an abandoned house that was in the middle of nowhere must have been your first idea that was actually the worst. Not that you knew it until it was too late.

But the house had looked so cool – it had something that called you right from the very fist time you saw a picture of it. But when you actually saw it with your eyes, you knew you had to get it and after a few weeks you got the announcement that it was yours. You were so happy when you got the keys and could finally start planning some renovations that needed to be done. You didn’t want to change too much as the house had some character and it didn’t take that long until you could finally stay there.

You enjoyed the quietness, the surrounding forest – after living in a bigger town for several years, it felt like a heaven to finally be able to breathe some fresh air and not feel the rush that seemed to always be present in town. However, after a while you couldn’t help but notice how it was almost too quiet. Despite that the forest was right there, you rarely heard birds or any other animal sounds, the fog there seemed to get thicker even though it wasn’t even autumn yet.

And one night when you stood on the porch, smoking a cigarette, your eyes caught something right on the line of your yard and the forest. The fog made it hard to see properly but it resembled a shape of a man. You stared at it for a while, your heart beating a little quicker in your chest, and then you took a long drag of your cigarette and closed your eyes. You let out the smoke and when you eventually opened your eyes, the man – or whatever it was – was gone.

Maybe it was just your imagination making some stupid shit up. It wouldn’t be a surprise as the place like this could easily get your imagination go wild. Or who knew, maybe someone from the nearest town had heard that someone had bought the house and was now just messing with you a little.

You shook the silly thoughts from your mind and finished smoking your cigarette before going back inside and to your bedroom. You placed your phone on the night stand and slipped under the blankets with a sigh. The sleep became fast and was followed by the dream.

You stood frozen in place, the fog around you so thick you barely see the path you were walking on. The air felt heavy and almost… suffocating. Your head turned side to side and then you heard a rustle and caught something in the corner of your eye on your left. Slowly you turned to look at whatever was there and as soon as your eyes settled on the dark figure, definitely in the shape of a man, you wanted to run. Something within you was screaming ’run’ but your legs wouldn’t obey you. You gasped for air as the man stepped closer to you and now you saw that he had… claws? And something was dripping from those claws.

Blood.

You swallowed, your heart now beating rapidly in your chest, pure fear settling deep within you. And in the next moment you heard a sound that was like a laugh but it made your blood run cold and your skin crawl in the most unpleasant way and then the man – or creature – was gone.

Copia was delighted to know that someone had finally bought the old house. He had now a chance to finally get what he had longed for so long… But he had to be careful at first. Keep a distance, then start slowly to worm his way into the mind of the resident. It shouldn’t be hard to break in and make them realize where they now belonged. To whom they belonged.

A wicked smile rose to Copia’s lips as he looked at the porch, the person standing there, smoking a cigarette. They seemed calm but Copia could sense there were some uneasiness in their bones. It would only be a matter of time before that would turn into a fear, a proper terror and Copia could hardly wait that.

Days went by and Copia watched closely over the person. He was the shadow in the darkest corner, following every movement they made. And their dreams… He had to get into them, make them darker. That way it would be easier to lure them into his world. Eternal darkness was lonely but he knew how to fight against that. He didn’t need to be alone.

Now as he watched the sleeping person, he flexed his clawed fingers, wanting to go and touch them. But it wasn’t time for that, not yet. Instead he inhaled deeply, that oddly sweet scent hitting his nose instantly and he let out a low growl. It was a bit too sweet, it needed to be sharpened.

You threw cold water over your face and dried it with a towel, then looking your face in the mirror. There were slight dark circles around your eyes telling that you hadn’t gotten enough sleep. For a few weeks you hadn’t slept that well as the nightmares had been disturbing you. It was always the same kind of atmosphere in those dreams – distressing, heavy, threatening. And in the middle of it was always the same man, or creature.

With a sigh you set the towel aside and walked to you work room, opening the upper drawer of your desk and took the old, worn-out diary out of it. You had found it a few days earlier in the attic, secured into a box. The lock had been so rusty it had opened easily and so you had gotten the access to the diary. At first you thought you didn’t want to find out what was written in it but eventually your curiousity had won and you had started to read it.

It had been hard to read, the handwriting being quite messy but you had been able to make out some sentences and words.

A demonic creature in the house. Nightmares. Scratches on the skin. The feeling that someone is watching you all the time.

Some of those sounded familiar. Especially the feeling that someone was watching you. At first you had brushed that feeling off but now that it had gotten even more stronger, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. But you didn’t know what you could do to it so you tried to just go on. Whatever was there… Well, maybe you would eventually found it out.

Nightmares was another thing you could sign. A demonic creature didn’t really ring a bell but there was some creature in your dreams so maybe it was that? Or did that mean the one watching you was a demonic creature? You didn’t know if you believed in those – you couldn’t believe in anything you hadn’t seen, right?

Scratches on the skin. Those you hadn’t seen – yet and it was terrifying. What would it mean when they appeared? That someone was actually there, in the house, with you? So many questions but so little answers. You opened the diary, searching for the last page that contained writing, the last words…

Leave before it’s too late.

That was written much clearer and repeated a few times until it all turns into a mix of red and black. Blood and ink, maybe. Something in your stomach turned as you thought of what might have happened to whoever had written the diary. Then you closed the diary, setting it on the desk before sitting down on the chair and opening your laptop.

You had googled your house before, obviously, but you hadn’t really paid much attention to other stuff beside the sales ad. You typed the place into the search bar and started going through the results.

Missing people, no bodies found. Stories of the ’man of the forest’ and several mentions of demon that lived in the house. You weren’t exactly surprised but the results definitely didn’t ease your nerves. Which ones those things were actually true and which ones were only made up, that you couldn’t tell.

Suddenly a loud, screeching sound interrupted you and you almost fell from your chair as you turned to look at the window. A shiver run down your spine as you saw long, clawed fingers scraping the glass. Your heartbeat rang in your ears as you stared how the claws dissappear from your sight. Then you waited and waited, tried to listen if you could hear anything else, something unusual. But you couldn’t.

Only quietness was left.

You breathed deeply in and released the breath slowly, then shook your head. Maybe your tired mind was starting to really play tricks on you. It had happened before so why would this time be any different?

Copia was smiling widely, walking towards the person who now leaned against the tree, eyes wide with fear, the smell of fear strong around them. Copia flashed his fangs, extending his hand and wrapping his clawed fingers around the person’s throat.

”Mmmh, such a delicious sight you are,” he purred venomously, leaning closer to the person who let out a miserable cry, squeezing their eyes shut. That sound made Copia hum pleased and he tightened his hold around the person’s throat.

”Burns,” the person croaked out, tears spilling from their eyes and Copia only chuckled darkly.

”Shhh, it won’t hurt long.”

He did enjoy seeing his preys hurting. But this one was no ordinary prey, no. This one was something else. Something so much better. He then released the person’s throat, his eyes falling to the red marks on the skin and ran one claw over it, the touch making the person sob and twitch. Copia licked his lips, moving his fingers under the person’s jaw and tapping the skin with his claws.

”Open your eyes,” he asked but the person gave just a little shake of head. Copia grabbed a hold of their jaw, repeating the words with a growl. The person finally obeyed, opening their eyes and Copia’s smile grew pleased.

”That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The person didn’t say anything, just stared at him with watery eyes and Copia could hear their heart beating rapidly. He could sense how much they wanted to run away, as far as they could get from him. They couldn’t run, though, as Copia didn’t want them to. On rare occasions he allowed the preys to run but it was more fun like this – when all they could do was stand frozen in place and take whatever treatment Copia offered.

And usually the treatment they got was far from pretty.

”What are you?” The person’s voice was barely audible and they looked like they had almost given up. Accepted their fate, whatever that might be. Copia chuckled, squeezing the person’s jaw.

”Your worst nightmare.”

You stopped by the small cafe when you were driving back to your house. It was kind of strangely cozy with its slightly worn-out table-chair sets and with a decor that you could only describe as witchy. You bought a coffee and a little piece of chocolate cake and went to sit in the corner, near the window.

There weren’t that many people in but you couldn’t help but notice that a few of them seemed to look at you curiously and then whispering something to whoever was sitting beside them. It was a small town where most of the people probably knew each other, at least by face, and you hadn’t visited the places in there for many times so people probably didn’t recognize you.

You tried to ignore the staring, moving your gaze out the window. The clouds seemed to be darker, the blue sky disappearing behind them – most likely it would soon start to rain. The leaves in the trees were also starting to change their color, the red, yellow and orange blending into the green, and you couldn’t wait to see the nature in its autumn glory. You could imagine how beautiful the forest would look from your porch.

”Monster lives in your house.”

You got startled by the voice and turned to see a little girl standing close by, looking at you with wide eyes. Beside her was supposedly her mother who offered you an awkward smile. You smiled at her back before turning your attention back to the little girl.

”I don’t believe in monsters,” you said as politely as you could, and the girl blinked, shaking her head.

”Not all of them are real but the one in your house is.”

What the--? You let out a sigh, taking a sip from your coffee and the mother of the girl took her hand.

”Sorry, she is a bit… meddlesome,” the mother said, making a face at that and you gave a small wave of a hand. That wasn’t the first time someone said something like that about your house. Despite not visiting the town much, the whispers still had reached your ears.

You quickly finished your coffee and the cake, exiting the cafe and walking to your car as fast as you could. When you got inside, you slammed your forehead against the wheel, letting out a string of curses. You were tired, confused and a bit afraid. People weren’t exactly wrong – you knew there was someone in your house, at least part of the time. But who, that was still a mystery to you.

Copia dragged his claws along the wall, watching the person flinch and turn their head from side to side, eyes wide before walking over to another wall and doing the same, this time much slower. The person’s eyes settled onto the marks, mouth hanging open in shock and Copia could sense the question burning on their tongue.

He waited, patiently, but for his disappointment the person stayed quiet. They squeezed their hands into fists, anger replacing the shock on their face as they stormed off to another room. Copia followed close by, seeing how the person grabbed the old diary from the desk drawer and sat down on the bed, opening it.

Copia recognized that diary. Remembered how he had watched it to be written. The owner had suffered greatly until the very last day. It had been such a fun game. To drive the poor one mad and then strike when they had least expected it.

Copia smiled at the memory, still fresh in his mind.

”Stupid diary!” Copia chuckled at the person’s frustration as they went through the pages. ”Why can’t you give me any clear answers?”

He walked closer to the person, stopping right beside them, and thought of forcing them to look at him. The power he would feel when the person would gaze up at him, fear clear in their eyes, a weak plea on their lips. He imagined how he would run his claws along those pretty features, rip those clothes off and reveal the body underneath, admire it before marking it as his.

He was almost touching the person as he broke out of his reverie, and backed off a few steps. It was hard to keep control when something so delicious was right before him. But he didn’t want to ruin his chance – if things went right, he could be able to feast from this for a very long time. A little more time was all he needed.

The dreams, nightmares, had turned into more sexual ones and whenever you woke up, you were feeling so strange that you were sure you were starting to lose your mind. It wasn’t the only odd thing, though, there was also the red scratch marks that now marred your skin, mostly on your neck and arms but a few times you had spotted them on your hips and thighs.

They were real, lingering on your skin for days.

In resent nightmares you had seen the man, the creature, finally revealing himself from the shadows as he used your body to his own fun. Before he had been just a shape, like a black smoke-kind of thing and now he had a face of a man, covered with black and white paint, other eye seeming very human-like while the other glowed inhumanly white. Fingers with long claws, sharp fangs that was revealed whenever he had that wicked, predatoric smile on.

And his voice… That deep growl, it seemed to nest into you in a way that made you want to rip your skin off. He might have looked partly like a human but it was clear that he wasn’t a human. No human could ever make you feel like that. There was something so dark in him, no sign of kindness in his eyes when he had looked at you while your bodies had been slotted together in what should have been a pleasurable heaven.

To you it had been hell.

You took a pillow and pressed in against your face, screaming into it as you had done several mornings. It helped a little but not enough. You felt dirty in the worst way possible and went to shower quickly, trying to scrub him off of your skin, of your memory. The scratch marks stung but you didn’t stop scrubbing until some of them started to bleed.

With a head hung low you watched how the water turned to pink, disappearing eventually to the drain. After stepping out of the shower and drying yourself, you looked for some ointment and applied it upon the worst of the scratch marks. You did your best to avoid focusing on your image in the mirror and got dressed quickly, feeling slightly better when most of those ugly marks on your skin disappeared from your sight.

You went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for something to eat. You weren’t that hungry as the images of your dreams made you feel nauseous but you still had to eat something. You made yourself a sandwhich and sat down on the nearest chair to eat it. A few days old newspaper was on the table and your eyes landed on the small headline on the left corner.

A missing person found dead in the woods

The body had been found near the other town and the police had apparently arrested someone that they thought had been behind it. So far there hadn’t been any disturbing news regarding the area where you lived but for some reason you believed that people might just keep their mouths shut if they saw something unusual happening. Hell, that was what you were now doing.

But the thing was… If you had talked about this all to someone, would they have believed you?

With a sigh, you continued munching your sandwhich, focusing your gaze somewhere at the opposite wall. It was a quiet morning, as usual – too quiet. At first it had been so relaxing and welcomed but now it only seemed to be a sign of something bad, something that still mostly hid in the shadows. You could feel the heaviness upon you, a force that seemed to grow darker every day.

A sudden tightening in your stomach made you froze for a moment and you dropped the rest of your sandwhich onto the table. The nausea had come back with a force and now you had to rush into bathroom and bend over the toilet to empty your stomach. Tears spilled into your eyes as you finally slid to the floor after you were sure nothing more came up.

You drew your legs closer, wrapping your arms around them and burying your head between your knees. Sobs jolted your body and you cried until you just couldn’t anymore. On the outside you looked like a mess, you had no much energy to do things and internally you were screaming.

Screaming into the void where no one could hear you.

Poor thing, Copia thought as he watched the person trying to tame the vines that had grown too big on the side of the house. They had fallen down a few times and Copia could sense that their strength had lessened. He flashed a pleased smile as he knew that his moment to shine was about to come soon. The poison was already rooted within them, slowly spreading, consuming them.

Copia went closer, leaning against the wall, eyes glued to the person who let out a frustrated grunts every once in a while as they cut the vines and pulled them off. Their shirt hung on them loosely, much loosely than it had sometime ago, the red marks on their skin now more prominent. They healed slower even though the person had put some kind of ointment on them.

With every passing day the beauty of the person grew and Copia was fully entranced. Meddling with dreams had been fun and all but the best part was yet to come and he couldn’t wait for it. It was a different thing to be the plague of the dreams than to be the nightmare of the reality. Though, for the person, the line between the dream and reality had already gotten blurry.

Copia hummed and the placed his claw against the wooden wall, slowly carving a long line onto it, and watched how the person’s head turned right towards him. The look in their eyes barely had any shock or surprise in them as they stared right at him. Of course, they couldn’t see him unless he wanted them to but still, their eyes were straight on him, then moving to the carved line.

With a weak laugh and a shrug, they returned back to their work and Copia continued watching them, his mind already wandering to what was to come. How his work would soon be complete. Step by step the eternal darkness was starting to feel less lonely. Soon he would have a companion to share it all.

He could already feel the power that he would possess after the union was complete.

Mine, mine, MINE.

The voice sounded so real and you blinked your eyes open, your vision blurry for a while. You shook your head, breathing heavily and soon you heard that voice again, the sound of it so loud you jumped straight up from the bed.

”This isn’t funny anymore! Whoever you are, stop messing with me!”

You knew it wouldn’t probably help but you had to do something. An echo of an evil laugh came somewhere behind you and you turned to look at there, seeing nothing.

”Leave me alone!” Your voice sounded thin and weak and tears burned in your eyes. You were so desperate for this all to end. This nightmare had to end.

There was a wind-like sound and then the same voice was whispering something right into your ear – or that was how it felt.

Run, run, RUN.

As the last word came out, your legs worked like an automatic and despite the weakness in your muscles, they carried you downstairs and out of the house. The cold night hit your skin immediately as you were wearing only an oversized t-shirt and your underwear. You didn’t look back as you run, heading straight towards the forest, the thick fog surrounding you as soon as you reached it.

You wanted to stop but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t. Tears were now blurring your vision and you could barely breathe as you legs led you even deeper into the forest. And then it felt like you collided with an invisible wall, cutting your way and sending you to the ground. Soon the same evil laugh reached your ears, making your gut twist and you knew whatever was coming, couldn’t be anything good.

A figure of a man stepped into your line of vision from the shadows and the closer he got, the more details you started to see. You recognized him – it was the same man, or creature, from your dreams. The black and white paint on his face, the glowing inhuman white eye, fangs and claws. You couldn’t do anything than sit there, on the ground, frozen, a huge wave of dread swirling inside you. The closer the creature got, the more… powerless you started to feel, like someone was trying to shrink you.

You knew instantly that there wasn’t anything kind in that creature. Everything around him screamed danger and evil, as well as the way his eyes seemed to flash when he kneeled down and placed one of his clawed fingers under your jaw.

”Finally we meet in person, my darkest one,” he spoke, his voice making cold shivers run down your spine. You swallowed, then drew in a short breath, your whole body starting to shake as you fought against the mysterious force that kept you stuck in there.

”Oh, poor thing,” the creature cooed mockingly, slowly dragging his claw along your throat. ”There’s no point in fighting. You can’t go anywhere unless I let you.”

The smile that rose to the creature’s lips, didn’t leave anything unclear and you were starting to realize that maybe your nightmare hadn’t even started properly yet.

”Let me go,” you said through your teeth, and that only made the creature chuckle wickedly, his fingers wrapping around your throat as he leaned closer. He mouth was so close to your lips and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for his next move. Your nails dug into the ground as you soon felt a pair of lips pressing against the corner of your mouth.

The kiss burned and you let out a scream, though it sounded so weak in your own ears. The creature’s hum echoed all around you as his hold around your throat tightened.

”I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

That was the last thing you heard before the darkness filled your mind.

Your whole body felt like being on fire as you finally got a part of your consciousness back. Everything hurt and you could only make out a figure hovering above you and the blurry surroundings. You were inside the house, in your bedroom, on your bed, completely naked.

”Shhh, it won’t hurt soon,” the creature spoke as he run his hand along your body, and you writhed underneath him. His voice was far from comforting.

Nothing had ever hurt so much. It was blinding, the burn slowly crawling under your skin. And all you wanted was it to end, you would do anything to make it end.

”Please, make it stop,” you cried out, tears flowing as it all was too much. Lips pressed against your cheek, claws digging into your hip and it only made it all worse. The creature took it slow, he wanted you to suffer, he enjoyed seeing you in pain. The chuckle he let out after another burn wave hit you, was pleased.

It was slowly sinking in that this all had been just a fun game to him. That he had pulled the strings right from the start and you hadn’t been able to do anything but to play along. This had been his goal all along, to use you as he wished, mentally and physically. There would be no way out of this nightmare anymore.

You wished you could die. That would surely end the suffering.

”Oh, I like the way you think but sadly that’s not my plan,” the creature said, his lips fanning over your marred skin on your chest and something within you shattered.

So you were getting the worst fate one could think of.

”Mine… You’ll mine,” the creature continued, his voice seeming to ooze more power with every word. ”You’ll help me to rule the darkness, the shadows.”

You drew in sharp breaths as the creature’s lips found your most sensitive parts of your body and you felt the nausea twist in your stomach. He growled as you writhed, some wicked pleasure blending with the disgust as your body reacted to his touch. It was wrong, so wrong. You grabbed a fistful of sheets, the burn spreading all over you again, the pillow under your head feeling damp from all the tears you had shed.

”Do you want me to take you?”

No, you wanted to say but that wasn’t what came out of your mouth.

”Yes.”

And in the next moment, he entered your body, claiming you as his. The pain only got worse but it lasted only for a moment, being soon replaced by something that you couldn’t describe. It wasn’t pain but it was far from pleasure, too. You felt something flowing into you – something purely evil, conquering you, filling your every cell with darkness.

There was no gentleness, only harsh movements as the creature defiled your body. You wanted to scream but it was only possible in your mind, the echo of it mixing with the moan escaping from your mouth in reality.

Or was this even the reality, you didn’t know. And it didn’t matter whether this was a dream or reality as the nightmare was still there, in the form of this creature that looked too much like a man. A handsome man that surely would have caught your attention if you had seen him somewhere in town.

A devil in disguise, spreading his poison into you and bounding you to him.

As his eyes finally met yours, you knew that there was no point of return. This house, the place you had thought would be your safe haven, had now become a cage and the man, the creature above you, in you, was a predator. A predator who loved to play with his preys. But you weren’t a prey, no, you were something much worse.

A prisoner, his prisoner – maybe even some kind of a spouse – for as long as he wished.

[freakenomenon]

Hi friend :] I want to understand Ellen as a character better and you seem to have a good grasp on her, so could I ask about your ideas for her? No pressure though either !

YOURE ASKING ME ABOUT MY IDEAS FOR ELLEN?? IVE WAITED YEARS FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME ABOUT MY IDEAS FOR ELLEN!!! /REF .. AGAIN

OKAY to start off. the biggest thing i noticed about her in particular that is pointed out better in the manual than it is displayed in the game is the fact she would rather run away or ignore a problem than actually deal with it and heal. and if you combine this with the fact she usually reacts to ( and CONFUSES ) her own fear with anger. or hostility.

stating herself that she hates crying because she knows she doesnt feel "sad" ,, she just wants to kicks someones ass. which is probably a trauma response. considering she grew up in a rather unsafe neighborhood, which resulted in the death of her brother and cousin. IM JUST RESTATING CANON HERE BUT MY POINT IS.

i feel like if in the game they reeled in the part of her character that is very clearly avoidant, distant and even frequently disassociative. they'd have. a character.

alongside the fact that it's implied she very clearly cannot grasp the concept of not being able to handle something. she's overcome almost everything in her life, but the moment she can't understand another humans feelings. or why another human would treat her the way. most of the people in her life have.

she's more familiar with algorithms than people after all. not to mention that nimdok ( ugh. ) says that ellen is honest to the point of being offensive. first of all fucking. Jesus autistic much. secondly this could also be due to her isolating herself and feeling more at home with her work and electronics than she is with people. a computer is easily fixable if she ends up fucking something up.

its not like you can remove a rom chip on a person and reprogram it to not feel insulted if you tell them they look like they have a dirty microwave. that is probably an oversimplification of my thoughts on that part, but you get the point.

now. to. just. get this part of her character out of the way. just. warning for mentions of rape , miscarriages and other nasty things ahead.

i am not saying that in the situation where someone were to rewrite the game. you have to completely remove the aspect of her being a victim of rape. i simply just think it could've been approached in a better way. as I've stated many times. personally i don't even know where to start with rewriting this aspect of her character??? the most i have is replacing the maintenance man with someone she might have known. just to add more to what I have. maybe a boss or coworker she was close with who exploited their position above her both in the workplace and within the more obvious racial bias of society at the time. using it against her as an excuse to break her boundaries, break down her defenses, and eventually take advantage of her. something like that. just so it has more of an impact on her as a whole, and make her relationship with intimacy and relationships with humans , platonic or not. more strained. having to scratch and fight with the core of her being that wants. and deserves proper intimacy and general care. to keep herself safe. to prevent herself from being violated like that again. her vulnerability is what caused her to end up in that spot. she cant let that happen again. she cant be a hopeless victim again. not again.

yknow because thats how trauma works. it actually effects the victims life in ways other than just ending up with fucked up trigger and a fucked up phobia. wow.

now to the other part of this. I'm. going to be so honest. I would just scrap the miscarriage stuff and the existence of eddie as a whole.

it's so meaningless and minuscule in her character that i bet my pinky toe that half the fandom would look at you like you just said something TED levels of crazy if you brought it up without further grueling context.

.. that's. actually all I've got for now if you trim off me just asking to further establish aspects of her character that i think are interesting. if you've got any questions ill be more than happy to answer! <3

[jasperandhenryslovechild]

my friend and i have watched the henry danger trailer over and over again at least 30 times, and we've watched it COUNTLESSLY at .25 speed and pausing every 5 seconds to point out random ass little tidbits and make assumptions and theories.

this is a hyperanalysis dump of everything we've noticed so far!

under the cut🗣️🔥‼️

in chronological order!!

BLACKOUT?

whys bro got CLAWS NOW WHATTT

i still want to think this is blackout but at the same time the claws kinda throw me off since i don't think those were in df? so it's kinda weird? IDKIDKIDJD QE DO HAVE MORE THIS GUY CLIPS THOUGH AND IDK WHO HE IS BUT I LOVE HIM! #! #! $ BEAT HENRYS ASS BRO GIVE US THAT HURT WE'VE BEEN WAITING ON FOR SIX YEARS/j

that's all ive got about bro, i did also make an entire theory post about him though so OUT OF THE WAY BUDDY/j

BIZWATCH TRUTHING

ignore how it's shittily put together cropped images i have lots to share and don't want to exceed tumblrs image limit, i am NOT making another post with all the same fuckin things😭😭

BIZWATCH RUMORS (literally just me reading a sign in the background) are TRUE. charlotte is absolutely not in on this because she wouldn't have let this name slide/j it is growing on me though!! the fact that bizwatch has such a large & expensive building implies that this could be far into the future of the dangerverse timeline— henry's first appearance back since hd is like 3 weeks after the beginning of df and his last appearance i want to say is like 2 or 3 years since the beginning of danger force, and i don't think anybody in the history of like ever has made enough money with their underground vigilante business to be able to have such a flashy & huge hq

also, why is it in existence??? if you're the SINGULAR HEROES in the most dangerous city in the world, you'd want your hq to be more..... hidden?? yknoww....??? and not pull a man's nest??? not complaining though it looks silly

also also, the clip glee dango released could maybe be taking place in that building??? not sure though because of how run down it is but still oooo aaaah

MISSY'S BEDROOM!!

i have SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT MISSY'S BEDROOM BECAUSE THERE ARE SO MANY LITTLE EASTER EGGS HIDDEN IN IT AARRGRGGRHH

firstly, the way henry falls into the bedroom makes me think that like he fell out the window and the reality altering device took him into missys bedroom and like accidentally saved bros life which would be so funny 😭😭

there are SO MANY REFERENCES LITTERED IN THIS

from top to bottom, left to right

"[??]-INSPIRED GRAFFITI SWEEPS THE CITY"

added the extra image because it's clearer there, but IS THAT A WALL DOGS REFERENCE? #?? ## IS THAT A HENRY AND THE BAD GIRL PART ONE AND TWO REFERENCE? #! #?

" ..... Exiled by Swellview......"

i dunno who the hell they're talking about with that one but like also at the same time it's blurry as shit and i kind of guessed... quite a few of these are guesses......

"Kid Danger and ThunderGirl in daring traintop meelee"

THUNDERMANS CROSSOVER REFERENCE! $!! $! $ this girl is dedicated i lwk forgot that happened

"Swellview Dispatch: Kid Danger Dies in Firey Blimp Accident and Saves Entire City. The City Mourns Its Young Hero"

okay so they DOO know about the finale

does that mean missy was the ultimate fucking theorizer above us all??? is she the only one in this universe that puts the two and two together that bizwatch ceo henry hart looks a lot like dead superhero kid danger??? guys missy is the only one in nickelodeon history to do that she might be a lot smarter than we thought, having the capabilities of basic logic..... /j I LOVE HER ALREADY

or maybe she thinks she just used her reality altering device to bring back the dead, in which case i subtract points/j

"A Superhe[ro]...... Answ[er]... The [??????].. all pay"

literally no clue, the pay part makes me want to think budget cuts ref? but im not sure i need more context to that one— i would literally pay any amount of money to buy ANY of these set pieces bro😭😭

"Swellview Dog Society calls foul (?) on irresponsible breeding practices"

not a reference to anything as far as im aware but... good to know? swellview has a dog society now funzies

"Kid Danger Calls Out Bill Evil"

DANGER THINGS REFERENCE! $! $! $! DANGER THINGS MENTIONED! #! $! $!! $

i do know that there was one ill find later that was a rock box dump reference and i thought it was so fun

SHE HAS A KID DANGER COSTUME AWWHH I'M CRYIGNFNND I LOVE HER I LOVE HERR

the reality altering device abbreviates to rad... like how swellview academy for the gifted abbreviates to swag.... im so done😭😭

how did she even get access to that shit??? she has a blueprint above her computer when she was like doing all that coding stuff and its the blueprint to the device itself, does that mean she like made it herself?? maybe like in tandem to the omega weapon she had someone make it for her?? idk idk i need to watch this fucking movie bro 😭😭😭

POSSIBLE OTHER VILLAIN??? WHO ARE YOU MY BRO WHAT SCI FI SHORT DID YOU POP OUT OF

OTHER STUFF (VILLAINS & STUFF)

PIPER TURNS INTO BATS AQWWWHWH I LOVE HER

just got back from doing day 2 of finals though & im tired as all hell so i don't have that much more for now but i may continue dumping stuff later 😭😭

if i add more ill reblog it🗣️🔥‼️