#like every time i think of them i just feel so fond...

[sengenism]

just me and my bestie faking our deaths by padding our weakling chests

[solxamber]

Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day with: Octavinelle

Go here for other dorms

Azul Ashengrotto

You approach Azul in the Mostro Lounge, your heart pounding against your ribs. He’s behind the counter, meticulously checking over inventory, looking as polished and composed as ever.

At least, until he notices the neatly wrapped heart-shaped box in your hands.

His sharp eyes narrow slightly in suspicion. “What’s this?” he asks, adjusting his glasses as he peers at the chocolates like they might explode.

You blink. “It’s chocolate.”

“I can see that,” he says, ever the businessman. “What I mean is—why?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Typical Azul. Always thinking there’s some hidden clause, some kind of catch. You hold out the box a little more insistently. “Because it’s Valentine’s Day. And because I like you.”

The effect is instantaneous.

Azul’s expression shatters. His carefully maintained composure cracks like glass. His fingers twitch where they rest on the counter, and for the first time, he seems completely, utterly lost.

“You…” He blinks rapidly, his voice quieter now. “You like me?”

You tilt your head, watching his face turn a shade of pink you didn’t even know he was capable of. “Yeah. I thought that was obvious.”

Azul makes a sound. You’re not sure if it’s a laugh or a quiet gasp of disbelief. Either way, he clearly doesn’t know what to do with himself.

He exhales sharply, adjusts his glasses again—completely unnecessarily—and shifts his weight like he’s trying to ground himself. Then, as if desperately grasping onto something familiar, he clears his throat and straightens up, the businessman in him taking over.

“Well,” he says, smoothing a hand over his coat, “in that case, it would be highly inappropriate of me not to offer you a proper date.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Oh?”

Azul nods, trying so hard to appear composed despite his ears still burning red. “Mostro Lounge serves only the finest cuisine. Allow me to treat you to dinner tonight. Naturally, I’ll cover all expenses.”

Your lips twitch. “You’re really making a date sound like a business transaction.”

Azul scowls immediately, crossing his arms as he actively fights for his dignity. “That’s not—! I just meant that it would be—! Ugh.” He sighs, pressing his fingers against his temple before looking at you again, this time softer.

“…I’d like to take you to dinner,” he amends, quieter now. “Because I like you too.”

Your chest warms.

Now you’re the one who feels a little breathless, your heart stuttering at the rare sincerity in his voice.

You smile. “Then I’d love to go.”

Azul exhales, as if he’s been holding his breath this whole time. He nods, then quickly busies himself with setting out a reserved sign for the best table in the lounge—as if planning everything right this second will keep him from combusting.

You watch him, amused, and so, so fond.

For all his smooth talk and confidence, he’s just as flustered as you are.

Jade Leech

You really should have prepared for this better.

Jade Leech was not the kind of person you could just walk up to, hand over chocolates, and expect a normal reaction. You knew that. And yet, here you were, clutching a heart-shaped box like it was a live grenade, stumbling through your words as his ever-present, knowing smile grew sharper with every passing second.

“So, um,” you start, regretting every life choice that led to this moment. “I—I made these for you. Because it’s, uh, Valentine’s Day. And also because I—uh—”

You stop.

Jade is watching you way too intently, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he waits so, so patiently for you to finish your sentence.

You take a steadying breath and just force it out. “Because I like you.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he hums, soft and thoughtful, as he takes the chocolates from your hands—his fingers brushing against yours, just barely. Then, without warning, he leans in.

Way too close.

Your breath catches.

Jade tilts his head, studying you like he’s greatly enjoying the way your face is rapidly heating up. “How interesting,” he murmurs, his voice low and far too entertained. “You’re quite adorable when you’re nervous.”

Your stomach flips.

Jade watches your reaction for a moment longer—dragging this out on purpose, the menace—before finally pulling back. And even then, not by much.

His smile softens, and there’s something almost warm beneath the teasing glint in his eyes. “I accept,” he says simply.

It takes your brain a full three seconds to catch up. “Wait—you—”

“I like you too,” he continues, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You blink, still thoroughly disoriented, and Jade laughs quietly, clearly enjoying himself. “Shall I take you to dinner tonight?” he muses, tapping the box lightly. “It would only be fair, since you’ve already given me such a lovely gift.”

Your heart is fighting for its life.

“…Yeah,” you manage. “That sounds nice.”

Jade grins. “Perfect.”

And just like that, you know you’ve fallen right into his trap.

Floyd Leech

You’re pretty sure you’re about to die.

Because the second Floyd spots the chocolates in your hands, his entire mood plummets.

One moment, he’s just existing—normal Floyd behavior, a little lazy, a little restless. And the next? Oh. Oh no.

His grin disappears. His eyes darken. His whole posture shifts, and suddenly, he looks one wrong move away from squashing the nearest person to death.

“…Whatcha got there, Shrimpy?” His voice is low, slow, and dangerous, like a predator catching the scent of something it doesn’t like.

Your fight-or-flight instincts scream at you to run.

But you don’t.

You force yourself to stay put, lifting the chocolates a little higher in a silent please don’t kill me gesture.

“…They’re for you,” you manage.

Instant. Mood. Whiplash.

Floyd blinks. And then—all at once—he’s grinning again.

“Ehhh? Really?!” His entire demeanor flips so fast it gives you whiplash. Suddenly, he’s giggling, practically bouncing as he snatches the chocolates from your hands and leans in so, so close.

No personal space. Not even a little.

It’s our space now.

Floyd hums, inspecting the box like he’s debating whether to eat the chocolates first or eat you. “Y’know,” he drawls, tilting his head, “if these were for someone else, I probably would’ve squeezed ‘em real, real hard.”

Your stomach drops. “I—uh—”

“But they’re for me!” he interrupts, all teeth and delight, pressing the chocolates against his chest like a prized possession. “So it’s fine~!”

You exhale, shaky. “Great. Love that.”

Floyd chuckles, and before you can react, his arms are around you. Tight. Secure. Warm. He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath against your skin.

“Mmm… you’re mine now, though.”

Your heart short-circuits.

Floyd giggles again, sing-song and sweet, but his grip is firm, unyielding. “Forever n’ ever, right, Shrimpy?”

You swallow hard, helplessly flustered. “…Yeah.”

His eyes glint with satisfaction.

“Good,” he purrs, and somehow, you just know—

You’re not gonna regret this. (probably)

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[aayakashii]

For seven days, I'll be posting Valentine's Day themed headcanons for each House in Tokyo Debunker!

All prompts come from this post here ♡

And dividers are from @saradika-graphics 🫶

Taglist: @wannaberecluse

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

Valentine’s Day in Vagastrom

Alan

how does he show affection?

Through his hands. He is always touching you somehow. If he's nearby, his hands will rest on the top of your head or on your shoulders. Alan's not that good at expressing himself through words, but the way he's constantly drawing impossibly closer to your body leaves no doubt in your mind – he craves you near.

does he like hugs? what are his hugs like?

He loves them, but will always be hesitant to give them first due to his insecurities. Alan absolutely melts, however, when you settle yourself on his chest and hug him tightly – fondness for you immediately warming his heart and allowing him to hold you just a bit closer. His hugs feel like safety; you found your rock and it will be your very own shelter forevermore.

is he good at flirting? how does he flirt?

He's quite aware that he's awful at flirting, which is why he doesn't even try. He does compliment you frequently – and meanwhile, his hand goes up to rub his neck in order to dispel the embarrassment, and his eyes are cast downwards. He would love to be able to look at you properly the next time he says you look pretty.

is he good at gift - giving or does he struggle to get it right?

He tries his best, but Alan probably doesn't even realize Valentine's Day is coming around until he overhears some students talking about the date. At that point, there's no time to go out anymore (it's already Valentine's Day after all). So he'll most definitely give you the safe options: chocolate and flowers. He'll try harder next year (he'll ask someone to put a reminder on his phone).

is he quick or slow to give his heart away?

He falls fast, but it takes him a long time to come to terms with it. Thoughts of being unworthy of you are too loud in his mind most of the time, and he pushes the need to be close to you deep into the corners of his consciousness. When it all boils over and he can't hide it behind his stoic façade anymore, he finally gives in to you and to his emotions, tired (but also relieved).

does he find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Extremely hard. He knows he feels it, that's for sure. But his whole life, he talked with his punches. The words feel weird in his tongue, and it frustrates him. He can only hope he's clearly conveying his feelings for you every time you hug each other. He hopes you feel it all, right there, in the pores of his skin. And you do.

does he get jealous in a relationship?

Not really. He trusts you, even though his confidence might falter and the self-deprecating thoughts might take hold for a moment. You're quick to know when to reassure him, so all the negative emotions dissipate as soon as you hold his hand again.

what is his ideal date?

Wherever you want to go with him. He doesn't have a secret spot, nor a safe place to show you. His garage doesn't feel proper, and the campus holds too many memories he would rather not think about during a date. Wherever you decide to go, it'll be fine with him, as long as you're there.

would he ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He doesn't expect anything, honestly. He's fine with just being together, but if you propose to him, he will obviously say yes (after a long, awkward moment of silence in which he was trying to get his bearings straight). If you want HIM to propose to you, you'll have to tell him and express your wishes.

how does he feel about valentine’s day?

Never really thought of it, doesn't really care about it, but he saw the way GA students were fretting about it, so he figured you might be into the date, like them. If you care, he cares. That's basically it.

does he get protective easily?

He's EXTREMELY protective. Acts like a guard dog – a menacing shadow that follows you around and glares at anyone that might try some funny business. Sometimes, you have to tell him to relax and just enjoy the stroll with you, but his doberman senses just won't turn off, ever.

does he believe in true love?

He never thought much of it. He knows he loves you, so it must be real. He wonders if he deserves such a delicate, sweet experience like being truly in love with you. And every day, you make sure he knows he does.

Leo

how does he show affection?

He would rather be caught dead than explicitly show you genuine affection. Instead, he'll be calling you annoying while draping his legs on your lap and laying his head on the crook of your neck. He expresses his true feelings every single time he clings onto you, never letting go as soon as you come around his vicinity.

does he like hugs? what are his hugs like?

He hugs you like it's second nature. He's unable to stand beside you and not hold you somehow, all while acting as if him clinging onto you like a koala is perfectly normal. If you try to hug him, however, he'll throw a hissy fit, much like a cat that doesn't want to be pet.

is he good at flirting? how does he flirt?

He's fantastic when it comes to flirting ironically with ANYONE. When it comes to flirting genuinely with you, however, he simply malfunctions – much to his dismay, his cheeks burn bright red, he stutters stupidly and Leo wishes a hole could open up in the ground and swallow him. He's great at getting what he wants from others; terrible at getting what he wants from you.

is he good at gift - giving or does he struggle to get it right?

He knows exactly what to give you. But he also thinks about how he could entertain his followers. He'll most likely film your reaction when he gives you the trendiest, most expensive Valentine's gift and relish on the compliments of his fans as they call him a great boyfriend. But don't worry. Once the camera is off, he hands you a smaller, more thoughtful gift. All while saying he just doesn't want you to whine about him not paying attention to you.

is he quick or slow to give his heart away?

He gives his heart to you slowly, little piece by little piece. He doesn't like the vulnerability, nor how much trust is involved with handing you his heart. Therefore, it might take a while until he feels completely comfortable with the thought of being wholly yours.

does he find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He never says it, preferring just to think to himself. You've learned to hear the fondness that coats his voice whenever he's thinking that, though. The way his eyes are half-lidded, his smile is sincere, and how he calls you "silly" – which is probably the closest to a compliment that you'll get for a long time.

does he get jealous in a relationship?

He's painfully jealous of everyone and everything. If someone just touches you accidentally, he will go into a fit of jealous rage. Under all the layers of nonchalance and assertiveness, Leo is terribly insecure. He doesn't realize his rage stems from jealousy, nor does he know his jealousy comes from the fear of being left behind. He just lets that green little monster take over his body until you manage to calm him down, and he finally retracts his fangs.

what is his ideal date?

Surprisingly, he wouldn't mind turning off his phone for a little while to spend quality time with you. He would like somewhere calm and quiet, that wouldn't overwhelm his senses. An onsen in a small town isn't exactly the type of place you'd imagine Leo visiting, but if it's to spend time focusing on you, he would very much prefer that.

would he ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He wants to ask because he wants it to be pompous and glamorous. He wants to post the photos on his sns, obviously, but more than anything, he wants to keep the memory of every meaningful date for you two registered on as many photos as possible.

how does he feel about valentine’s day?

He never cared about it, but loved to pretend he's looking forward to it whenever he posts. His flings were never important enough to warrant celebrating Valentine's together, but with you, he's finally gonna know the true experience. You could say he's kinda looking forward to it for real now.

does he get protective easily?

Not really. Most times, he's the one playing damsel in distress. If push comes to shove, however, he'll change his inoffensive behavior in the blink of an eye.

does he believe in true love?

Leo is too much of a skeptical man to believe in things that come from fairytales. But he's open to changing his mind if you want to give it a shot.

Sho

how does he show affection?

He doesn't hesitate to hold you and say sweet words into your ear, but his most genuine way of showing affection is through food. Whenever he asks if you've already eaten, what do you want to eat, if you'd like to try his new recipe – these are all his very own ways of saying he cares deeply about you.

does he like hugs? what are his hugs like?

He loves them, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up with every chance he gets. If you hug him first, he takes that as permission to just keep holding you wherever he goes, like you're just a little keychain. His hugs feel grounding and you can feel the comforting scent of bread and cake emanating from his clothes (even if he doesn't even work with pastries).

is he good at flirting? how does he flirt?

He's annoyingly good. It genuinely feels like he was born with this skill and he makes good use of it with you. He's all lazy smiles and half-lidded eyes whenever you pass by, kisses in empty rooms with promises of more and compliments that leave you fuzzy and floaty.

is he good at gift - giving or does he struggle to get it right?

He's great at gift giving, especially because he's very into making your gifts himself. He's a crafty man and don't people say that handmade gifts are more thoughtful? He'll make you a whole bouquet of paper flowers, carefully painted, that will never wither AND homemade chocolate. And you just know that chocolate is more delicious than any store-bought brand.

is he quick or slow to give his heart away?

He goes at a normal pace, but once he realizes he has feelings for you, he feels like a middle school kid with a crush. What do you mean he stutters and blushes whenever you're around? He's an adult, for fuck's sake. He confesses to you like he's ripping a band-aid off. He just wanted to get over it as quick and painlessly as possible, shoving his heart into your hands for you to do whatever you want – step on it, throw it away or keep it safe. He was more than relieved when you decided to give yours in return.

does he find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He's still embarrassed by it, so it's quite hard. He says it during meaningful moments, but it still comes out of his lips a bit too stilted. He loves you, he does, but he also has years of building an aloof persona on his back – it was his defense mechanism. It'll take a little while to destroy those walls.

does he get jealous in a relationship?

Not that much, he just gets mad at the audacity of some people to try and shoot their shot with you. He's quick to appear right by your side and hold you tight and close to him, just to let them know that you're with him.

what is his ideal date?

Sho loves to go to every type of festival with you. Spending time with you trying different foods, finding silly matching trinkets, and playing all sorts of rigged games – that's a perfect day in his book. And of course, the day has to end with you two cuddling after spending so much energy outside.

would he ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He doesn't have a preference, honestly. It doesn't matter who asks, if it's you or him, all that matters is that both of you will say yes and start a new chapter of your life together.

how does he feel about valentine’s day?

Before his food truck, he really didn't care. After his food truck, he just thought it was a great sale opportunity. After you, however, he began seeing it under a new light: a holiday to look forward to, a chance to make it a special day for the two of you.

does he get protective easily?

Very much so, but he's subtle about it. Like when he's jealous, he just stays nearby, ready to step in if anyone ends up being an actual threat.

does he believe in true love?

Sho used to think that these types of things are embarrassing, even a little childish, but when he looks at your figure whenever you're sleeping beside him, he can't help but believe in it a little bit.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hey, awesome to see requests open! If you'd like, I have something not s/o related.

Nocturne confirmed that Anette can see any spirit that's died, not just her own ancestors. Could you write a little something, where she comes up to Alucard to tell him she's been seeing two spirits (Trevor and Sypha) hang around hik particulairly often? I think it could be really fun or sad whichever way you decide to take it ❤️

“Are all Belmonts like this?”

“Irritating? Oh yes.” Alucard replied to Annette’s question. For all the things that changed in the world, that was the one thing that never seemed to change. “To be honest it’s years since I had anything to do with them.”

“If you say so.”

At the time, Alucard hadn’t asked what Annette had meant when she said that. He hadn’t put too much thought into it, nor had the time to ponder on every passing word from a human girl’s lips; no matter how fond he might be of them. The conversation had gone completely out of his mind until Anette reminded him just before her & Richter departed.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you. Something that…they wanted me to tell you.” She told Alucard. Seeming to stumble over her words, or simply hesitating to tell him. “At the time I wasn’t sure what I was seeing when I looked at you sometimes. Shadows of loss. People you had killed haunting you. But, the light around them seemed warmer than that. Protective even.”

The dhampir listened to the little mage with curiosity. Wondering who she could be talking about. “These spirits, you say,” he asked her, “are they of a man in a dark cloak with black hair and a woman with blonde hair?”

“He has a dark cloak.” Anette confirmed. “But his hair is more sandy than dark. With a scar on his face and Richter’s crest on his back. The woman has red hair.”

Alucard’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be….after all this time….

“I was hesitant to tell you about them because the bond felt strong and important, but the message is rather conflicting with that aura.”

“What’s the message?”

“It’s….” Annette’s face reddened with embarrassment, and she lowered her voice to just a whisper to tell him, “Eat shit and die.”

There was a pause. Then Alucard began to chuckle uncontrollably as his shoulders shook. “Yes, fuck you too Trevor.” Alucard wiped a tear of laughter out of the corner of his eye. “Thank you, Annette.” He told her. “You’ve given me a gift. You have no idea how it feels to talk to friends again.”

[nana-luvy]

-> 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

warnings: fem!reader, established relationship, just fluff

It had always been special between you two, somehow, to Luke you were just oh so special. You were every day since you’d first come to camp, in mid-fall a couple years back. But it wasn’t because you were already claimed by Aphrodite, or because your piercing eyes had bore into his first with no intention to back out when you met. You were just…special, in a way he couldn’t exactly pin-point yet could somehow elaborate.

You were special in the confidence you wore like one of your necklaces, at all time around you, exuding it effortlessly like a second skin wherever you were, and intimidating aura he wasn’t used to. He was drawn to it in a way he found twisted, wanting to make your resolve waver and to seep in through the cracks to see behind, but being near you always had him buzzing like from the smell of a heady perfume, your presence alone the thing he wanted forever near and yet the sole thing he was so intimidated by.

You were special in the way you always appeared to stay true to yourself, even in the most out of place situations. He’d always remember the day you arrived at camp, black heels —that, and you corrected multiple times since, were called mary-janes— and knee high socks, tight halter top and short ruffle skirt, coming down Half-Blood hill with a pink bag thrown over your shoulder: you seemed so out of place. So you chose to make the place fit you instead, taking one step after the other confidently, winking at people you didn’t know who eyed you while you walked down on the slippery grass, not even tripping once, and Luke had never been so shocked and amazed, not that he remembered.

And you were special in the way you always kept him on his toes, never knowing what could come next, but knowledge he could surrender when it made the blood buzz in his veins any time you looked at him. He should’ve been used to it by now, except he never wanted to get used to it, he wanted to feel the rush, feel the sparks, and you were the one to make it possible.

As you cleared your throat behind him, making him turn around and take you in, he was reminded of that once again, his mind running a hundred miles an hour just to process how you both could’ve ever landed in this situation. The sun was kissing the horizon behind you and he couldn’t care less about its magnificent hues when you stood before his eyes, twisting a strand of your hair around your finger with a smirk adorning your face.

“I barely saw you all day.”

Gods, even just the tone of your voice did things to him he’d never admit.

Luke took a few steps forward, slowly closing the distance between you two as you didn’t even move a single finger, knowing he’d come to you.

“And I’ve been mourning it every second…”

“I’m making a poet of you, aren’t I ?”

The boy’s lips stretched in small grin, trying to contain the dumb smile tugging at them, because you didn’t need your ego stroked even further by seeing him react to the littlest of flirting. “What can I say, I guess I just needed the right muse.”

You giggled right in his ear as his hands found your waist, slightly tickling the bare skin of your sides before finding purchase on the small of your back. Luke’s smile broadened as your own fingers tickled his nape mindlessly, arms slung over his shoulders, his face coming close to yours, his forehead touching yours with little effort as you stood tall in your heels.

“Be careful, Castellan, or I might start to think you’re quite fond of me, in the end,” you teased, tilting your head to the side in that charming way that had his heartbeat unknowingly increase.

“Believe me, dearie, I’m way past that stage,” he started, looking longingly in your eyes. “Better yet so, I’m putty under your gaze, how is that ?”

Your eyes closed as you chuckled, slowly opening back up to catch his gaze searching yours already. “It’s a good start. But, next thing you know…” You brushed a single finger against the side of his face, tracing along the scar you loved to decorate with lipstick marks, your touch lingering on a skin he felt to be heating up by the seconds. His breath almost caught in his throat as the pad of your finger gently traced along the underside of his jaw, tilting his head up. You closed the small gap between you two, leaving a chaste kiss on his pulse-point and a pink lip shape behind, your voice a whisper in his ear. “You’ll be on your knees, begging to carry my bags and kissing the floor I walk on.”

The poor boy could feel the blood rushing throughout his body, set ablaze, while you just stood there knowing perfectly well whatever emotions were stirring up inside him, and choosing to just absentmindedly play with the short curls on his neck. Luke gulped down hard, finally lowering his face to rest it on your shoulder in defeat. “You’re one of a kind, aren’t you ? Having the best of times while you endlessly tug at my heart…”

“Your heart ? Oh I would never, that I would only cherish. But your mind…” He could practically hear the smirk in your voice as you spoke. “Call me cliché, but I want it wrapped around my pinky finger.”

Luke looked up, only to be met by the flashing, content smile that made your face glow when it reached your eyes, and he almost wanted to get lost deep inside them for an instant, before getting his wits almost fully back —his body straightened every time your fingers as little as grazed his nape.

“You’re cliché, dearie, that’s in your dna,” he simply stated, as relaxed as he could be when his heart was hammering in his chest like it was. And he knew it was silly, really, to be this affected when it had been this long since the first time. Yet, it still always felt like the first time when it came to you, he was always unprepared and accepting anything you’d give him. “But promise to never leave me, and I promise I’ll be wrapped around your finger until you’ve wrung me dry.”

You hid your laugh behind an ever-growing smile, slightly biting the side of your lip before bringing your hand between the both of you, a balled fist with the pinky sticking out. “Promise ?”

“Promise.”

And just as your finger interlaced the boy leaned down, catching your lips with his in a kiss full of a passion he wouldn’t ever attempt to hide, blooming inside his chest like a rose in the spring.

And just as you were about to separate, he couldn’t resist leaning forward a little more, your back arching as he held you tight against his front, his lips whispering on yours. “I guess you’re stuck with me now.”

Did i loose the plot along the way ? maybe. But who gonna say a thing huh ?

Also, I wanna develop bimbo!reader now, I fear there is no going back.

Love you byyye ~

Nana <3

[twstyuna]

Shadow

Characters: Skully J. Graves, Ramshackle Ghosts, Yuu/MC, Grim, Sebek Zigvolt

Summary: A ghost waits in Ramshackle.

Notes: Ao3 is having issues so I'm doing this for once. Because. Um. Idk productive procrastination maybe. Anyway ghost! Skully. Which one? Um. I tagged this Creepy Fluff on al3 might want to check the other tags there. Or just read there. I should be doing other things at unreasonable hours but oh well

This is platonic btw.

Ao3 Mirror | Masterlist of other stuff

There's hardly anything left of him when they arrive. 

He's little more than a whisper in the wind, so weak soul-wise that even the ghosts in Ramshackle can't perceive him. Ghosts, after all, are spirits, and what are spirits but desires and drives? He cannot remember what he desires, or why he lingers. There is nothing for a fellow specter to recognize in him, thin and empty as he is. He thinks though (when he does think, which he doesn't do often since there's so little of him to think), that he must be waiting. That must be why, no matter how long he sleeps, or how time wears away at what little remains of him, he still wakes in Ramshackle. 

There's hardly anything left of him when Ramshackle becomes home to a living being for the first time in years, but there is enough for him to ache at the sight of them. 

They look terribly downtrodden, and terribly frightened by the state of the building. Perhaps it is a good thing that he is so lacking. Perhaps he'd only frighten them further into a grave with his looming self, and the thought of scaring them so when they are in such low spirits feels cruel.

His fellow ghosts, more lively and present than he's ever been, have no such qualms. He cared little before, for how they'd scare away ruffians and vandals from Ramshackle, but the human is neither. It sparks an aimless anger that he can't do anything to put out. Let the ghosts protect the property all they like, but this human is. . .

Familiar, in a way he cannot place, with how hollow he has become. 

Magicless, he finds, as they depend on a feline direbeast to fight their foes with flame.

Lonely, he learns, as all he can do is watch, as he waits for their return to the rundown building at the end of every day.

They have their beast. They have their friends. They even have the other ghosts who have grown fond of their living housemate. But Ramshackle isn't their home, though it might be his. They bring back tomes plentiful and heavy that they pore over deep into the night, trying to find a way back to their world.

He'd help if he could, but he cannot turn a page any more than he can brush the hair from their tired face as they blink blearily at their books, and he so does want to do those things. He wants to help. It's only right for him to, after. . .

He has not slighted them, beyond his helpless neglect, but he feels sorry for them, and just. . .sorry. They deserve another friend. They deserve someone else to help them if the Headmaster won't. Someone to speak to when their friends are back in their dormitories. Someone to hold them steady, or at least be by their side when they wake in the dead of night, sweating and stifling their voice for the sake of their sleeping familiar.

Their dreams are full of ink and monsters. 

He knows because he's checked. He's not much of a ghost, but he's more magic than mage, more power than person, an ancient thing that's been idly amassing the mana that flows so thickly on the school grounds for centuries. He has plenty of magic for a touch of oneiromancy, and he's found himself wanting things enough to deal in matters unphysical. So he takes those night terrors away when he finds that he can, and the nightmares of blot and harm are pulled and crushed as easily as one steps upon a worm. When they sleep soundly after, it is soothing to watch them. 

He rather likes watching them regardless of the state of their consciousness. They are so sincere and sweet and yet a spark breaks though sometimes, especially as they speak to their friends, and he finds himself smiling as he looks at them. They're patient with their friends, and determined to help, and endearing as they are, and he can't he can't help but fear that the light they are will be snuffed out soon.

It's a pity he can't follow them out of Ramshackle. Such a bright soul should be treated better than they have been, magicless or not, but they are always tired, always a little sad, and their hopes of home fade day by day, faster than their scars do. He hears enough from Grim and the Heartslabyuls, and all the others who come after, on how they are picked upon, or how they get into accidents. Overblots, an unbelievable three of them, are quite the accidents to have. He'd give them his magic if he could- what use does he have for it, dead as he is? Even if it's not some forgotten desire but magic that's keeping him anchored in the world of the living, he'd gladly give it all to them. 

He can't give them anything though. All he can do, really, is watch those he thinks he was waiting for, and be company in Ramshackle that can't provide any true comfort, and pretend, sometimes, that when Ramshackle's prefect waves goodbye to Ramshackle's ghosts as they leave for school, that he numbers among the younger specters.

That's all he can do, until they bring in the painting. 

He's never been fond of the way he looked. He'd have avoided mirrors if he could see his reflection in them, he knows that then-

Because once he sees his face, captured in pigments and time, and he remembers.

He remembers sketching the painting on campus. It was an rather ugly thing when it began, but he'd learned by and by, bit by bit. He'd improved over time, and he'd painted over it between his travels, filling the canvas with brushstrokes and magic and the memories, driven by the odd need to leave something of himself.

He remembers the sudden inspiration that struck him that day he went to the book fair at Foothill Town. He'd thought it might leave, but it never did, and it drove him to spread Halloween throughout Twisted Wonderland in a festive manner that would keep it beloved and celebrated for ages to come.

He remembers the strange loneliness that had haunted him since that day too, a feeling like he'd forgotten something. It waxed and waned as the years went by, every new town bringing with it a curious hope that had him looking forward to new faces and never quite finding the ones he sought.

Skully J. Graves turns to Yuu, and to Sebek Zigvolt beside them, and he remembers a spiral hill and moonlit days, kingship and kinship and his idol's blessing-

"I suppose," Sebek says, stepping back to see the painting in its entirety, how it hangs against wall, how it looks with the meager furniture in the dim light. "That this room is not as terrible as the others."

"That's because I cleaned it."

Sebek shoots them a look. ". . .this is cleaned?!"

"As it can be." 

A sigh. "I cannot believe the Headmaster allowed you to bring it here!"

"Well it wasn't easy, but it's better here than hidden away in a storage room right?"

"I think it looks perfect here! The King of Halloween in Ramshackle- it oughta bring in a lot of sweets like a good luck charm!"

Yuu chuckles. "I don't think that's how it works, Grim. But I think he fits in just fine."

"That is only because Ramshackle resembles a haunted house!"

"Well this room doesn't. And I'll take good care of the room and our dear king until I go."

"You must! The Headmaster spoke of its rarity. This portrait is an irreplaceable treasure-!"

"I'll treat it like a friend. I think that's a pretty good standard of care- I treat you well, don't I?"

Sebek opens his mouth. Then closes it. The boy sputters and Yuu laughs, and when he reaches out, his hand passes through them still.

"Well, I think we would have been friends," Yuu says, gazing at the painting, and what a terrible thing it is, to be a ghost.

"I'm sure you would," Sebek grumbles. "You are an incredibly brazen human- if you could befriend my liege, you could certainly befriend a King of Halloween through your stubborn insistence- "

"I think he would have liked you too."

Sebek casts them a baffled look. "Why? "

"Just a feeling," Yuu smiles.

"Would have made a good minion too," Grim nods.

"Why you little-! "

"Come on," Yuu laughs. "I'll treat you to something from Mostro as thanks for helping hang it-"

"I do not require compensation for something as trivial as this! Only a weak human like yourself would struggle with such a simple task!"

"Well I'd still like to treat you anyway - and you Grim, yes, you too. Gotta treat my friends well, right?"

They do. They have. They will.

It is a shame he has not and cannot do the same.

[ddlydevotion]

yandere! bestfriend x fem reader

currently listening to: 400 lux by lorde ࣪ ִֶָ ⋆

a/n: reader wears eyeliner + platonic obsession that leads to more, female yandere ૮₍'｡ᵔ ꈊ ᵔ｡`₎ა

Sophia wasn’t the most extroverted person out there, and she never really had someone to call her ‘bestfriend’. She was just a bit too shy to make conversation with the people in her college classes, and didn’t know how to carry the conversation further than a simple compliment.

As she made her usual trip to her favorite coffee shop before heading off to class, she decided that she had enough of the relentless sense of loneliness looming over her. She decided that she was going to go up to someone, make proper conversation with them, ask for their number and then propose a time to hangout.

You know, as normal people do. ‘I can be normal’, Sophia thought.

It was time for her to head inside the cafe to pick up her order, and there you were. As soon as she walked up next to you at the ‘pick up’ area, her hazel eyes remained on you. There was something indescribable about you that gave her a sense of safety. Her timidity could take a break for a second. She took it upon herself to compliment your choice of makeup as she couldn’t help but admire your cosmic black eyeliner.

You thanked her, blessed her with a gleaming smile and she was sold.

As I’ve mentioned before, Sophia isn’t used to having close friends as she’s always been shy when it comes to new people entering her life. This makes her cherish your presence with everything her body has to offer. From the very second the two of you met, you showed her nothing but kindness.

Sophia has an amazing relationship with her family, especially with her mother. Her mom couldn’t be happier at the news of Sophia making a friend as she’s always encouraging her to ‘get out of her shell !’

Sophia is constantly thinking of you and can’t help but purchase things with you in mind. For example, if she’s grocery shopping and sees a snack that you’re noticeably fond of, she’s gonna buy it for you! It became a habit of hers ever since she saw how happy it made you the first time she did it.

She has memorized every single one of your likes & dislikes. You mention the fact that you love horror movies? Well, guess who gifted you five dvds of all your favorites! Absolutely nothing gets past her when it comes to you. She wastes no time in gifting you items that you’ve mentioned you enjoy.

Her heart melts when she sees that her contact name in your phone is ‘phia 💌 🎨’ , and a picture of the two of you gleefully smiling at the camera as her contact photo.

Drags your seat next to hers so that you can be even closer to her. Traces shapes onto your thighs as the two of you sit together.

She was the one who proposed that the two of you have each other’s location. “it’s just to be safe!”, she says. Her reasoning has extreme truth to it but she also just wants to be able to see where you are.

She’s the type of girl to bake a cake when it’s her dog’s birthday.

She has done it before and will continue to do so.

When you talk about your celebrity crushes or tell a story of someone hitting on you, a hideous ache blossoms within her chest and she gets so sad. She questions her feelings the first time that it happened. You’re her best friend! She should be happy at the news of you having a potential love interest but she’s not.

She can’t help but feel envy towards your future lover, someone whose presence hasn’t even manifested yet. What if they don’t treat you the way you deserve? What if they don’t hold you the way she does? What if they hurt you? Neglect you?

What if they’re not her?

this is quite literally how desperate she gets about you 😭

She often times catches herself peeking down your shirt. Her hands linger on your hips a few seconds more when the two of you are hugging. You’re pulling away and her fingers are practically clawing at your shirt. She feels sososo guilty for thinking of you in any position that is far from innocent but you’re just so pretty and nice. She’ll forgive herself.

Gives you a customized key to her apartment .

she absolutely loves drawing/painting in her free time and sticks to working on cartoonish art projects. She even drew the two of you as little cartoon buddies. example example

yeah, “buddies”.

When she’s alone late at night, she finds herself scrolling through photos of you as her fingers make their way inside her shorts.

she has severalll plushies on her bed.

has little sonny angel figures on the dashboard of her car.

nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck when the two of you are cuddling during movie night. She loves being able to smell your perfume when she gets really close up behind you. The excuse she uses for wanting to cuddle you so often during these movie nights/late night hangouts is, “it just helps me sleep better when we hold each other. You’re really warm (๑•́ -•̀) ...”

Not that she’d even need a reason to get you to cuddle her, but she gets so worried that you’ll find her creepy for her constant need of physical contact. Get ready to reassure her that you don’t feel that way at all, because she gets self conscious quite frequently. She just wants you to find comfort within her presence and she’ll be damned if she ruins it.

okayy that’s it ☺️💌!! might or might not do a part two, and my requests are open.

[prodixal]

"Aye. I wouldn't say I was green with jealousy of this...fictional friend of yours. Mildly jealous, maybe? A tad bit?" he wasn't entirely sure if being jealous of someone who did not exist was better, or worse, than the alternative. Either way, he was not fond the guy -- or the idea of him. "Besides you are far more jealous than I. If this was one of our competitions you'd be sure to win. For a change." he shrugged at the words, as if they were spoken with utmost certainty -- and yet he knew them not to be true. Rickon did not think it was possible to feel jealousy stronger than he did, and yet he kept those feelings at bay when they did arise -- mostly. It was unbecoming of a lord, to act on such impulses. And he had no right to jealousy, not with her. As she proceeded to explain her thoughts, with brows furrowed and words broken in their struggle to convert feelings into thoughts -- he had half a mind to stop her. It felt oddly wrong that she should need to do that, that she should need to reassure him when she was just as much her own person as he had been his own. Just as capable of making decisions, just as certain. And yet it felt good to hear -- it felt good to allow them, even if only this once. Because they etched on, every word of hers engraved into his mind like it was made of stone and they were chisel. "Alright." he says at last then, and his eyes go visibly softer, and his breath eases following much relief. "Thank you. For choosing me." it is all he could utter, all he knew how to express in return. And his cheeks turned warm once more, as she leaned further in. "I would be quite content staying in this room with you as well. For a good amount of time." Her sudden push against his chest nudged him to fake an injury through a hearty laugh. "I keep no secrets from you, that is a vile accusation." he said through that laugh, and his eyes searched to find hers in a moment of contemplation. "You need not know such things." it came out warm and honest. "I've not the words to string together into poetry that could accurately describe the extents of your beauty. No poet does. Such is my curse, and yours -- that I should admire you wordlessly and you should have to accept that." nervousness was surpassed only by the sweet taste of relief, as he expressed something he held onto for much too long. "And know that, well, so long as I am me and...you are you --" his eyes could not hold her gaze, not truly, though a smile did linger. "You will remain the single most beautiful thing."

As she rested her chin against his chest once more, and her fingers traced over his collar bone sending fresh goosebumps up his skin, Rickon felt incredibly at ease. His mind was freed of the barricades placed between his mind and his soul, and for a moment he let himself recall the first time he'd ever laid eyes on her. He remembered everything about that day. The way sun felt against his skin upon reaching the capitol for the very first time. The way smells overwhelmed his senses, and colours were so bright and varied. He remembered the sounds of distant laughter at the bay, the southern birds singing. He remembered how she wore her hair, the colour of her dress, the violet in eyes, the smell of jasmine. Clearly, as if it were all unfolding before his very eyes, he recalled the sound of her voice -- and how quickly she went from a stranger, to a friend. How such moments were written now, permanently, across time and space. So many strings had to intertwine, so many stories come to pass, so much had to have gone exactly right so he could meet her then, so he could hold her now. Rickon pulled her closer, as that thought settled. "It is different to how I thought it would be too." he said quietly, still somewhat lost in thought. He'd never imagined crossing so many lines, never meant for things to get this far. "You must know I never..." voice traced off. Only couple moons ago he would have been betrothed to someone else. His feelings, in a grand scheme of things, always mattered very little. So whatever he did, and did not feel for her through time, mattered little as well. A sweet thought of her smile, a shiver at the touch of her hand, a warmth at the sound of her laughter, those were but harmless, and rare, indulgences. They never went further than that. "I did not plan for things t -- to turn out the way they did." and yet, here they were. So perhaps a part of him had wanted it all the same. Perhaps when all else became distant and obsolete...the principles of duty, and honour and certainty, he wanted her more than he'd ever dared to admit. "But I am glad it is alright with you." he shifted gently, not do disturb the place she lay. "It is alright with me too." Daenyas words entered the room like a sweet lullaby. Perhaps he had been exhausted of travelling, of thinking -- but the hopefulness within her voice made his mind latch on to her effortlessly. He knew no such happiness would ever find them. That no good times would ever come to stay. Long periods of joy, of health, of summer, they were the most rare thing of all. And not for the likes of them. Not in this lifetime, perhaps not even the next. She must have known it too, the girl who spoke with death knew death did not rest. And yet here they were, together, in a moment that made him buy into every single word anyway. Moment so sweet he'd imagined perfectly what their life could someday be. Life where war was long gone, and summer was at its peak, and they were happy and healthy and together. The thought warmed him, even more so than her hands as they dug into his hair anew. Head rested upon her collar, eyes closed as he was permitting the tiredness and the thoughts to overcome him. "A long stretch of good..." he repeated, almost as a whisper, a prayer of sort. "I am prepared...I think." smile pushed into dimpled cheeks, and he did not hear the words she drowned within the fabric of his shirt. Yet he knew them to be sweet, and so without opening his eyes or moving much at all, he placed a gentle kiss upon her neck and let his mind wander off with the dreams.

" YOU CONFESSED TO YOUR JEALOUSY JUST EARLIER ." daeny reminds him lightly , her brows arching with it as her lips twitch in response to his smile . although , now with everything that has happened perhaps the confession can be put into different context . " you said you were frightfully jealous of my faster , stronger friend . have you forgotten ?" she finally allows a smile to bloom over her features at his nudge , a huff of laughter escaping her as she bumps into him lightly in return . " by that you mean it is annoying how charming i am ?" daeny blinks at the words , startled by the line of them . her brow furrows a bit in confusion . " i offer because — because you're rickon ." it seems quite self explanatory to her somehow . of course she would offer . it is rickon . is such a feeling not mutually felt ? she's quite sure rickon would offer quite a great many things to her as well . gods , he offered this , this journey , this danger he had put himself in , for her . was it not the same ? " and — " daeny fumbles for words , for how to explain . " as you are rickon i feel quite strongly for you . and about you . " her eyes meet his with the words , her gaze searching even as she tries , " i wish for you to be happy and i wish to make you happy and — " another fumble for words , her brows knitting tighter together to say , " you are very important to me ." her gaze flicks over his features , searching some level of understanding as she says, "i enjoy things very much when i do them with you . and so as such if i were to pick who to do such things with it ... " a shrug that is more a nervous movement than anything else . " would be you ." she has to blink in surprise as her hand is captured , and as a kiss is placed on her finger she can only feel her ears warm in surprise . the warmth of her flush only grows as rickon continues . " i know you are perhaps charming me ," daeny starts with an arch of her brow at his words , her head tilting with it even as she still feels the warmth of his touch in her hand . " but i actually quite like this room ." she lets her gaze travel around the room with the words , thoughtful before she meets his eyes again to say , " under other circumstances i would be quite content to stay here with you i would think . at least for a good amount of time ." it is pipe dream truly . an unrealistic one . she knows they both know that . and yet daeny feels the need to verbalize it all the same . daeny can't help the warm feeling that floods through her at the sound of his laughter , her grin growing impishly as the action rattles their hands on his chest , as giggles escape her as well . she shifts impossibly closer as if proximity will perhaps bottle the feeling . in a way it perhaps does . " i am glad to hear that i am not the only one who struggles with this ." daeny makes a show of sighing , her eyes twinkling before she lightly teases , " although your story is of course much stranger . i accept you all the same ." daeny rests her chin on rickon's sternum as he speaks , feels her cheeks warm once again as he starts . for a moment it seems as if he perhaps gets lost in thought , an act that only makes her impossibly warmer at the concept . and yet the sentence never finishes . daeny didn't even realize she was waiting for the conclusion until it never came . " i — " daenya has to blink a bit to clear her head , shaking her head a little as her brows furrow to say , " what is that supposed to mean ?" the thought that whatever rickon was thinking was deemed better to not tell her only makes daenya feel more flustered in the moment . she smacks her palm down on his chest with not nearly enough impact to actually wound . " you are keeping a great many secrets lately , you know ." daeny huffs lightly , and yet there is no heat in the words . no , all the heat has somehow found its way to her skin . daeny moves to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear in an attempt to compose herself .

and yet it is rickon taking her braid next , him moving to tuck it away . daeny allows her chin to rest on him anew . she can feel his heartbeat thrumming underneath the point of contact . " i do not mind it ." daeny replies gently and honestly as her lilac eyes meet his . she shrugs once again as she sweeps her palm gently over the cloth of his shirt , smoothing over it before she's pivoting to allow the tip of her finger to trace over his collarbone . " and i do not think it greedy ." there's a beat as her fingers trace back and forth over the skin , her eyes on the movement before she shrugs and adds , " ... i do enjoy that it is me you wish to ask ." daeny can only huff as he continues , her fingers rubbing circles into his scalp as she turns her head to rest her cheek on his chest . there is a beat there where she indulges in the rise and fall of his breath before she says , " you tease me ." a pout even as her fingers gently comb through his curls . " i have never pitied you ." she drinks in the closeness for a moment before she's blinking as he continues . the words push her to straighten , to meet his eyes as she says , " it does benefit me ." the words are insistent , and in the moment daeny is quite sure of them . although she cannot say how exactly she is benefited she knows she is . just as she is benefitted now , as they lay together . this benefits her in a way she is quite sure little else can , and yet rickon provides it so freely . she is grateful for it . " it does ." she sighs as she moves to lean on him anew , fingers twirling a curl around her finger to say, " you will just have to trust me on this fact , rickon ." she blinks as he moves to sit up , surprised by the gentle motion even as his fingers move to enter her hair . her brows furrow . " in ... " daeny fumbles a bit for words . her hands , now extracted from his hair , gesture uselessly to say , " such a way ! you must know what i mean , i —" her brows twitch to furrow . " i knew we would be together for the rest of our days . or at least as many of them as we can . and i knew you felt the same ." a nod as she meets his eyes , as her fingers twist a bit as she adds , " and yet this is different than how i thought we may have meant that ." there's a beat there before she meets his eyes meaningfully again to add , " ... but it is alright with me ."

his next words instantly cause her brows to furrow , knitted together gently as her thumbs pass soothingly over the soft downy hairs curling at his hairline . " i like you as you are ," she insists . it is not the first time daeny has extended such a sentiment and she will do so again . rickon was rickon , and she quite liked him that way . for him to be more like her of all people was not something she would particularly long for . and perhaps for that his admiration comes as a surprise . she allows her hand to smooth over his curls as he speaks . her next words are a whisper and they are a gentle one . a hopeful one as she moves to press them near cheek to cheek as she rests her face on his shoulder . her lips press against it in what is not a kiss but could easily become one as she says , " but perhaps things will be good for a long while ." daeny's eyes are bright with the hope . her fingertips comb through his hair , again and again in a soothing rhythm . " perhaps they will remain good forever one day . wouldn't that be lovely ?" daeny's tone is hopeful as she turns her head towards him , her words near murmured into his ear . " you should learn to enjoy it in preparation for that day . because it will come ." daeny's tone is certain . her head shifts a bit in a nod . " of course small things will happen . you will perhaps stub your toe or maybe ... you will find dinner burnt . but there will be a long stretch of good one day and — you should learn to enjoy it before then ." it is her hope really . that one day there will just be a long stretch of good . a great many years of it . perhaps not today or tomorrow but at some point . she does not want to be weighed heavy with dread when that day comes . she wants to enjoy it as it's happening instead of in hindsight . she shifts to accommodate rickon as he moves closer , as he embraces her and tucks his face into her throat . daeny slides a hand up the nape of his neck and into his hair anew as she warms with pride at the words . at the concept that she could offer such help . she tucks her face into his shoulder once more . " ... you help me forget too ." and it is the truth . the heaviness of it all feels far away in rickon's presence . his previous words echo and daeny can't help but think that she has surely benefitted in a great many ways . her words are hushed and murmured against the fabric of his shirt as she says , " ... thank you ."

[crescentfool]

the persona 3 protagonist 25th anniversary nui in food appliances!

[moreaujeans]

quite pleasantly surprised by wicked movie but i Will say we were robbed of elphaba leaning in close to glinda saying “come with me to the emerald city” followed by glinda’s “i’ve always wanted to see the emerald city” while looking deep into her eyes arms around her shoulders twirling elphaba’s hair

[geddy-leesbian]

cryptic spoiler for what im writing rn

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

y'know, I've been seeing a lot more posts talking about how fanfic, specifically, puts characters into boxes and takes away the nuance of them, and while I think that's an important discussion to have, I also find it quite perplexing? Like, these posts seem to come from people who don't even, or maybe very rarely, consume fics in the first place, and I say that because, if you do consume fics semi-regularly, you kind of learn? how to gage what the stories and characterisation are going to be like based on the tags and summary? Sometimes, you do have to step into the fic to figure it out, but it hardly takes very long to realise if it gels with you or not. Idk, it's not anything serious or important, but it does give me... "girl, what were you doing at the devil's sacrament" vibes, you know?

[heartshapedtrap]

just hung out w friends for five hours and feltso full of whimsy I could pass out <333 I miss them so bad already but I get to see them tomorrow tooooo

[deathsmallcaps]

Replying to tags but then I ran out of room and I think i was if not cooking then at least microwaving

#dude when I was in 6th grade I read #the veldt #and at the time it disgusted and genuinely scared me because I was #just so surprised that people - children! - could be raised to be so heartless #idk if I read it for the first time as a 23 year old it would scare me so much #but goddamn

#I think we're both people who are *at least* good at literacy but we're both a little too STEMmy #to look at it the way some English teachers want us to? #like they want people to go from 'damn that's fucked up → what themes are the authors trying to explore here → what about the world #made them think of that and perhaps what are they trying to get us to consider and think about and perhaps change' #obviously not all writing is a fable with a moral at the end #but a lot of good writing has some sort of central belief that it wants the reader to consider

#(I struggle in creating that with my fiction ugh and I think a lot of booktok books do too and it bugs me that we have that connection)

#but anyway #I think you and I'd first reactions are like #’that's horrible → how can we prevent that specific problem from occurring again' #like take the lottery. my (and maybe your?) first reaction is like 'that's horrible → they should ban the lottery' #but the English teacher is going to want us to think 'oh gee okay so this is a commentary on traditions. why would this tradition be started #/necessary? does the lottery reflect the overall morals and sensibilities of the overall society (aka fond of the death penalty etc). #what sort of tradition might this mirror today? connecting to historical events and the fact that the person stoned and the author were #women. aka the gender commonly stoned for witchcraft in New England #do you think that's related?' etc etc etc wrapped in metaphors and shit. and tbh that's how I learned a lot of my religious and political #philosophy as well as history. I really like Thomas swift's 'a modest proposal' (satire) for that reason.

but that was NOT my initial #thought process for English class. I had to be heavily trained into thinking that way and often my first instinct is to not engage with the #metaphor an just go straight to the logic/sensible answer. blah blah blah. I really respect lit and history teachers as a profession but boy #do I not want to teach it because I would be so slack on writing the kinds of questions that would get the kids to engage with the meta. #once I got a piece I got it but it was a struggle every damn time. because I had to get over my feelings of well why didn't they just not #do that'

the biggest one I can think of is 'song of Solomon' by Toni Morrison. I think my senior AP English teacher wanted us to really #consider authors and characters of color (he was white but it was 2018-2019 aka Trump era) so he taught us othello and TM. othello is a #little easier to understand because iago is just being a little bitch about a Black foreigner getting a promotion and a hot wife and no longer being able to convince himself that he was better than Othello

But TM’s main character Milkman? Unlikeable, spoiled little shit who doesn’t give a damn that he’s the 1 percent of his marginalized community and he’s frittering his privileges away so hard that it literally induces suicidal and murderous tendencies into the people around him. Among other things.

It took me foreverrrrrr to engage with the text beyond GOD I HATE THIS GUY but once I was able to examine his psychology and the mean flip side of ‘if you want to fly, you have to get rid of earthly attachments’, which he does at the end of the story.

Was it a chore? Absolutely. But have I ever forgotten the story or the literary tools it gave me? No.

Maybe I’m just speaking for myself in this longass response - you and I usually talk animals and men not books 😅 - but yeah every English class is full of these annoying stories that are meant to rattle one’s brain and I REALLY avoid rattling lmao. Tbqh again I respect lot classes but I’m glad they’re over lmao

But anyways I listened to Levar Burton’s podcast ‘Levar Burton Reads’ from start to finish, and he once read (as a three parter) Toni Morrison’s Recitatif. It’s the story of two girls, one Black one white, who grew up around and with and against each other during the mid 1900s.

I didn’t know what the story was getting at, aside from the surface ideas of the American Civil Rights Movement and privilege and stuff. But LB usually asked questions or briefly mentioned the author’s main idea at the end. And when he did? HOLY FUCK.

If you ever decide to listen to it (I’ve never gotten my hands to a print copy so idk if they usually have some sort of author’s note at the end to ask the reader this question)(I love LB’s voice he’s a pleasure to listen to if you listen to Recitatif) please @ me and tell me if it also blew your mind and made you consider how you viewed the POV character of the story.

Because it blew my mind and made me really consider why I assumed things about the pov character. Im not going to say anything further because I feel like I’m spoiling the point but yeah.

Anyways again this could be just me but I’ve always had trouble moving on from the straight solution mindset. When I was 12 I was in a model UN and I was told to write a report about Togo and its healthcare issues. I took this to mean that I had to research the common issues there (such as unclean water and mosquito bite diseases) and then come up with solutions.

It was incredibly embarrassing to do all that and then hear every other group explain their countries healthcare issues and WHY (historically, monetarily, etc) their countries struggled with such things. And my ass went up there and talked about affordable mosquito deterrent changes to water sources and cheap water cleaning services.

I didn’t realize it then but like. It perfectly exemplified my lack of instinct to subtextually interact with instructions and prompts.

And the thing is. May the universe bless and boost the fucking lit teachers out there because my poor students are entering math class with lit skills 6 grades under where they should be and are genuinely unable to interact with straightforward STEM instructions. My college had every ed major take a ‘teaching literacy’ class and sure I passed but the thing is. I’m not really the person that’s supposed to catch these kids on that subject. I’m supposed to be a secondary math teacher. So a lot of the advice in that class simply wasn’t applicable and I wish it was!!! I’d be happy to help in that subject but also I WAS TRAINED TO BE A MATH TEACHER. AND MOST LITERACY AND LANGUAGE DIFFICULTY COURSES ARE NOT DESIGNED WITH STEM IN MIND. (Which is why I want to learn enough Spanish that I can teach kids learning English math as well because that’s an area that doesn’t get a lot of crossover and a lot of kids fall through).

Well this turned into a ramble goodnight lmao. I’d say this was a decently microwaved thought track lol

[celiababy]

Ain't Right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, cum eating, name calling, kinda mean Joel, alcohol, vomiting, an extremely brief mention of suicide

Disclaimer: I lowkey don't know the logistics of the show so if some things are wrong please look over it I'm just trying to write smut about Joel Miller godbless.

Ain't Right part 2

Ever since that tortured old man showed up in Jackson, your life hasn't been the same.

Tommy's older brother, and your absolute undoing.

When Joel Miller rode into town, it was like everything suddenly made sense. The skies got clearer, the air smelled better, and the birds even chirped their love songs louder.

Everything about him drew you in; his cold demeanor, stoic face, tired eyes—but gentle around those he cared about, which was only a few select people.

And you certainly were not one of those select people.

Joel didn't know what to think about you.

To him, you were odd. Yes, you were undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Jackson, but he felt distance between the two of you was essential.

He felt this way because he knew.

Joel wasn't oblivious to your stares; he might've been an old man, but he remembered the laws of attraction fairly well.

He didn't like the thought of you liking him.

You were young, attractive, and had plenty of age-appropriate prospects just begging for your attention. Every boy in Jackson wanted a piece of you—but you only had eyes for Joel.

He was getting old and tired, ain't no reason why you should be so fond over him.

He also didn't like that you made your attraction so obvious. It made people whisper, and Joel about had enough teasing from Tommy.

"You gonna let that young thing jump your bones or what, Joel?" Is an example of the few things his brother would chirp at him whenever you were around and had eyes on him like he was a target.

So, all things considered, it's no surprise when Joel is reluctant to make a supply run with you.

You had begged Tommy to let you go out and finally start pulling your weight, carefully adding that Joel would be a great teacher for a first timer like yourself.

You stand near the truck, squeezing the straps of your backpack while watching Joel and Tommy whisper to themselves a couple feet away.

"You can't find anyone else?" Joel growls lowly, narrowing his eyes at his insufferable brother who he’d really like to strangle right now.

"Are you seriously scared of a twenty year old girl, Joel?" Tommy asked exasperatedly, throwing his arm out in disbelief. "It'll take two hours tops, what the hell are you so scared of?" Joel is exhaling through his nose, dragging a hand down his jaw in complete disgruntlement.

"You know what the hell I'm scared of Tommy—goddammit," He gets in his brother’s face before realizing you’re still watching them.

He takes a moment to back up and calm down, breathing out through his nose.

"I do not need this town thinkin' I am encouraging this girls...feelin's." He murmurs lowly.

Tommy rolls his eyes before shoving Joel's backpack into his chest.

"Just don't fuck her, Joel. How hard could it be?"

Joel watches as Tommy turns his back and walks away, leaving just you and him.

Joel had spent a lot of time making sure he was never in a situation alone with you—now he was about to be your unsupervised mentor.

He feels a groan try and crawl its way out his throat, but he pushes it down.

He starts walking to the truck, not even looking at you as he passes and yanks the driver side door open with more force than necessary.

"Let's make this quick." He grunts out, climbing inside.

You do the same, only with a little bit more enthusiasm. ***

The trip is a complete bust.

Joel barely paid you any attention, no matter how many flirty gestures you made at him.

You'd say something remotely suggestive and he'd either glare at you, or just flat out ignore you.

But you were relentless. Giving up on him wasn't in the cards for you, no matter how many judgmental looks he casted your way.

You guys had been driving back to town for around five minutes; Joel has kept his eyes firmly on the road in fear of you sparking a conversation with him.

But you do anyways.

You turn your body to face him in the bench seat, your eyes cascading down his breath-taking side profile.

You zoned in on the gray patches of his beard, and how his face had the remnants of a long, unforgiving life weaved into his wrinkles and scars.

You're momentarily rendered speechless by his looks before he side-eyes you.

"What?" He huffs out, not being able to handle your intense stare any longer.

"Why not?"

A beat.

"What?" He asks again, his brows furrowing together, an annoyed and confused expression painting his features.

"Why won't you fuck me?"

Joel physically winces at your language, scoffing in what looks to be disgust as he starts shaking his head.

"We're not starting this." He snaps firmly, a tone in his voice that you haven't heard before.

Completely disregarding his words, you start.

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" Joel groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is it because there's someone else?" He's close to snapping. "Is it because you can't get it up? I heard thats a problem with guys your age-"

Joel slams on the brakes, sending you lurching forward. He shoves the truck into park before turning to face you, a scary look on his face.

"I am not going to fuck you--Christ almighty," Joel raises his voice at you.

You're staring at him, wide eyes and lips parted in surprise. You weren't really expecting this.

"you're bustin' my fuckin' balls, Look kid," He starts up again, this time with a softer tone. "M'about 40 years too old for you-"

You cut him off with a murmur. "36, I did the math."

"Same damn thing," he snaps, shaking his head. "Point is—you don't needa be wastin' your time with me; there are plenty boys your age that will satisfy your...you."

You scoff in his face but try to disguise it by clearing your throat.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Joel," You start, a sad smile spreading across your lips. "S'just sex." You say with a shrug, blush coating your cheeks because now your mind is imagining sex with him.

He stays silent and looks away from you, closing his eyes like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

That urges you to say more.

"I won't tell anyone," You're practically whispering, looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me."

Joel's heart cinches in his chest at your words, mostly because he can tell you're being so genuine.

Why the hell did you like him so much? He just couldn’t understand it.

But he can't entertain this any longer because he knows if he did, he'd give into you.

"I don't wanna hear another goddamn word outta your mouth." Joel says in a strikingly even and calm tone, putting the truck into drive and continuing back.

He's eerily silent, and so is the rest of the trip because you're too dejected to speak.

Eventually, you both arrive home and you're fast to get out of the truck.

You slam the door and keep your head down as you walk away, snow crunching beneath your boots.

Joel takes his time, watching you storm off with tired eyes.

He feels bad for being so rough on you, but he figured it was the only way to get you to stop liking him.

Tommy walks up, a concerned look on his face as he looks back between you and Joel.

"Guessin' you didn't fuck her."

***

Nobody had seen you in days.

The pain of rejection had you in a mental place that you had never experienced before.

No one has ever denied you—ever.

The situation was 100x worse considering you actually liked Joel, and he wasn't just another toy to play with.

Joel figured his life would get easier with you not around, and it kinda did in some aspects.

But he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt slowly eating at him like a parasite.

He'd been cruel to you in the way he went about things, and he felt bad.

Had he really broken your heart? He didn't know you liked him that much.

He sits in his living room, contemplating how to go about this entirely fucked up situation.

He debates making amends with you, apologizing and rejecting you again but in a gentler way.

He deliberates on his plan of action while nursing a glass of whiskey before he's interrupted by three bangs on his front door, followed by a screeching: "JOEL"

He mutters a 'what the fuck' under his breath, walking to the door and picking his 9mil up on the way.

His eyes widen when he sees you-standing there in all your glory.

It's the middle of winter and snowing like hell, yet you're wearing shorts and a tank top with a beer bottle in your hand.

"Jesus, kid-what the fuck," Joel ushers you inside quickly, taking his big jacket off the coatrack and draping it over you.

He also tosses his gun to the side, obviously you were no threat.

"You tryin' to get frostbit? Christ," he's swearing and muttering profanities as he guides you over to the couch, now basically swaddling you in blankets.

You've never been inside his house before, only ever walked passed it a few times. It smells like him.

You, however, smell like alcohol and bad decisions.

Joel picked up on how drunk you were the minute you stumbled through the door. He takes the bottle from your hand and sets it aside somewhere, glaring at you like how a mad parent would.

"The hell are you doin' out in the snow like that? Fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"

His words are kinda fuzzy in your ears, you're so drunk that you barely even register them.

An unprompted giggle spills from your lips as you shake your head at him.

"It's not snowing silly," You chide, making him out to be an idiot when, in actuality, it's a damn blizzard outside.

He knows from that statement alone that you are way off your rocker tonight.

"How much have ya had to drink, kid?" Joel asks, raking a hand through his graying hair.

"Don't call me kid," You snap, a quick flash of anger in your expression. "M'not a kid."

Joel rolls his eyes so hard that he probably caused a tsunami on the other side of the world.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What are you doin’ here?” He asks exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his jaw while looking at your trembling figure.

There’s a long pause before you answer. You just got distracted by his big brown eyes.

“Jus’ wanted to say hi.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from his face.

“Say hi?” He reiterates, looking at you like you’ve actually lost your mind.

You probably have.

After a moment, Joel can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, letting his body lean back against the couch.

The absurdity of it all turned humorous to him.

Here you are, sitting in his living room, practically nude with only his coat and blankets protecting your modesty, having just trekked through the snow all for what? To say hey?

You’re still sitting there, motionless and trying to remember how to breathe because his laughing face has your heart lighting off fireworks.

“Fuckin’ hell—hi.” Is all he says, turning his head to the side to look at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You smile like a dope at him, so extremely happy to be there in his company.

But the alcohol in your system is fighting you, and you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

“S’it cool if I say the nigh?” You slur, falling vertically on the couch, your head crashing onto Joel’s thigh.

You nuzzle your cheek against the fabric of his jeans and Joel is just about to gently push you off, but he stops himself.

You look so comfortable and so at peace that Joel can’t do anything except stare at you.

Your cheek is slightly smushed, your lips are parted, your eyes are shut and don’t plan on opening—it’s insane to him how at home you looked.

Like you belonged here, head rested on his lap.

Fuck.

He was fucked this time.

He doesn’t move you. Instead, he fixes the blankets on top of you so you’re fully covered, and sits there with you the entire night.

He’s really gone soft.

***

When morning comes, you’re first to wake up, accompanied by a splitting headache.

You don’t even notice how Joel’s hand had fallen onto your waist some time during the night because you’re too busy making a b-line for the bathroom.

You chuck your guts up into the toliet, clutching the porcelain and groaning out in pain.

Joel wakes up to the sound of your hurling, momentarily disoriented before he remembers last nights events.

He’s quick to come to your aid in the bathroom, wasting no time gathering your hair in his fist to get it out of your face.

"S'right, get it all out," He murmurs out encouragingly, seemingly unfazed by the disheveled sight of you.

You’re too sick to be embarrassed, that’ll come later surely.

He sits on the wall of the tub as he continues holding your hair back, yawning every now and then like this was just a regular Tuesday morning.

Eventually, by the mercy of God, you get it all out of your system and slump up against the wall.

“M’sorry,” You immediately apologize, figuring that is the only right move in this situation.

“Don’t be. Been through plenty'a that in my day.”

His words are uncharacteristically reassuring and you find yourself taken back by them.

You soon realize this is probably just the hazy morning Joel, the Joel where he isn't worried about anything except coffee and breakfast—like everything wrong in his life is put on the back burner for this short minute in time.

“I’ll get you some water and Advil, sit tight.” He grunts before standing up on his feet, knees popping as he walks out.

You watch as he leaves, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

Aside from the vomit part, you could get used to this.

You've never seen him so...domestic. His hair was all messy, his voice was raspy, he had that morning haze over his features that you felt so honored to witness.

You suddenly felt compelled to look at your own appearance, hopping to your feet and looking in the dirty mirror.

You resist the urge to audibly gasp at your reflection, opting for a disgusted look instead.

Your hair is a rats nest, your clothes are a mess, and your mascara has rubbed off in black smudge all over the skin around your eyes.

In a desperate attempt to look at least semi-presentable, you wash your face with water and comb through your hair with your fingers.

The idea that Joel had seen you looking like that was making your stomach churn again.

Before you can grovel about it any longer, he rounds the corner with a glass of water and little brown pills in his hand.

“Here,” He says softly, handing you the water and tilting the pills into your open palm. “Take these ‘n drink all that water and ya should get to feelin’ better.”

You do as he says, swallowing the Advil in one go before taking a big sip to wash it down.

His eyes drift down to your shoulder, where your tank top strap has fallen. No doubt from all that vigorous throwing up you were doing moments ago.

Without thinking, his fingers graze your forearm before bringing the strap back up to its correct position, clearing his throat in the process.

A beat of silence falls over the both of you.

You’re gobsmacked by the complete nonchalance of his touch, staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock.

“What?” He asks defensively, his tone pointed.

You look between him and your shoulder strap, then slowly move to set your water down.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck?”

“Goddammit—” Joels cursing before you can even finish saying the last word in your sentence.

He turns away from you, probably the fastest you’ve seen anyone turn in their life, and walks towards his room with an accelerating pace.

He shakes his head in disbelief all the way down the hall, pivoting on his heel to duck into his bedroom.

You follow him, not really fazed by how he completely refused to answer your question, though you didn’t think he would anyway.

Before you can step foot into the threshold of his room, Joel walks out, causing you to back up.

He shoves a stack of clothes in your direction, looking down at you with a frustrated face. “Put these clothes on and go home.”

You look down, realizing he was letting you borrow a sweater and jeans of his so you didn’t die walking back to your house from the cold.

Your heart warms at this thoughtfulness.

Without wasting any time, you take the clothes from his hands, smiling happily. “Can I keep them?”

“Why the hell would you wanna keep my clothes?” He’s got that confused/angry look on his face as he asks, and you have to suppress a giggle at the sight of it.

You bring the pieces of fabric up to your nose and inhale, humming as you breathe out again. “They smell like you.”

“Christ,” Joel beings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Fine, do whatever. Just hurry up and change, jesus,"

Ever the tease, you set down his clothes and begin to lift your tank top like you planned to change right in front of him.

Joel's hands shoot out to stop you, a 'don't try me,' look on his face.

"Put them on over your clothes," Joel says sternly, watching the way you sigh because you weren't fast enough in lifting your tank top off.

However, you sieze the opportunity in front of you.

Joel's hands are holding yours down, so you work to intertwine your fingers, invading his space by stepping forward.

"Or, you could take my clothes off," You purr, your chest now flush with his torso.

Joel exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as he tried deciding how he was going to get out of this situation.

But then he paused.

Looking down at you now, so eager and wide eyed, made him wonder.

If he fucked you, and made you realize it wasn't what you were probably imagining in your head, maybe then you'd finally leave him alone.

He would just...pretend to be awful at sex.

(Even though it had been so long and he wasn't sure if he'd actually need to 'pretend' anymore.)

There's a long silence that drags out between the both of you.

Your stomach is doing flips because it's looking like he's finally going to agree.

His resolve cracks and Joel can't do anything but sigh in defeat.

Slowly, Joel pulls you back into his room, closing the door behind you both.

Time is moving in slow motion.

You can't believe it's finally happening.

He guides you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, prompting you to sit down on it.

"I'm only going to do this once," Joel's voice is uncharacteristically low and calm, and it has your core tightening.

You nod in acknowledgement, waiting to see what he's going to do next.

With care, he pushes your shoulder down so you're laying on your back. "Are you sure you want this?" He asks, brown eyes searching yours.

"Have I not made it obvious?" You quip, a giggle following shortly after.

Joel only shakes his head before his fingers latch around the fabric of your shorts, pulling them down and off your legs.

"S'pose you have." He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.

You're vibrating with excitement and you repeat what you tried earlier, only this time succeeding with taking your top off.

Of course, you're not wearing a bra.

Joel realizes in that moment that he bit off way more than he could chew.

He hasn't seen breast that weren't on a soggy piece of paper in at least a few years, and yours--well, his cock stood no chance.

You hear him swallow, watching as he can't seem to stop staring at your chest.

Realizing that he might need a little encouragement to start speeding things along, you smile up at him and whisper, "touch me Joel".

Yeah, screw this. His plan of pretending to be bad was now entirely forgotten—he was going to do what he wanted, so help him god.

He huffs out a curse before sliding a hand up your torso, stopping once he's fully cupped one of your breasts in one hand. He kneads it like dough while using his other hand to disappear under your panties.

A choked moan erupts from your lips once you feel his fingers brush along your clit, rubbing around and spreading your slick around all too slowly.

"haven't even done anythin' yet and you're already fuckin' soaked..." He murmurs really to just himself, his eyes casting down to watch as he rips your underwear off impatiently.

"M'always like this whenever you're around," you mewl to spur him on, spreading your legs wider.

"Oh you are, huh?" Joel repeats back, the tiniest bit of cruelty in his tone that makes you shiver.

You nod, bucking your hips into his hand desperately.

"don't get why you like an old man like me, s'gross." His tone is flat but it's clear he's teasing by the way he curls his fingers inside of you. He's not really expecting a response, but you feel compelled.

You lurch forward, gasping at the feeling. "I really like you," You rush out breathlessly. "I'd do anything you wanted me to." You say earnestly as you stare into his eyes, loving what you're seeing.

Joel remembers when you told him that the first time, his heart cinching the same way it did then.

Joel is at war with himself. One side of him is screaming that this whole situation is fucked up and he is better off without you.

Another part of him thinks that this is the most he’s ever felt in a long time. And he doesn't want to lose it.

You can see the gears turning in his head. His fingers have slipped from you and you wince at the loss.

Slowly, you sit up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your nipples pressing into his shirt.

He's confused and momentarily panicked when your faces get so close together, his hands seeking purchase on your hips.

In an unexpected move, you rake your hands through the side of his hair, looking lovingly at his face.

"I just wanna be someone for you," You murmur, your face breaking a little as Joel's resolve also cracks. "Doesn't matter what. I'm very versatile." You mumble the last part to try and lighten the mood.

Joel just stares at you—something swimming behind his eyes that you can't quite place.

Eventually, he crashes his forehead against yours, sighing out.

"You're makin' this fuckin' impossible." He rasps before kissing you with a passion you've never felt before.

You feel victorious.

He's finally given in to you.

Eagerly, you kiss back, wrapping your legs around his torso and grinding your bare cunt against the bulge in his jeans.

"Then stop trying so hard to get rid of me," You sigh out, chasing his lips even as you're trying to speak.

He groans and you catch it in your mouth, the pressure on his clothed cock making him dizzy.

“Fuck,” He’s quick to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it somewhere on the floor. “Lay back.” He demands and you immediately follow suit.

He's never been that...assertive with you before. It makes you tingle all over.

He looks starved as he peers down at you, specifically your cunt.

He literally can’t tear his eyes off your sex—he only looks up to your gaze when you let out an impatient whine.

He rips down his pants, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.

Now you can’t tear your eyes away from his sex.

You’ve only dreamt it so many times, but now that it’s finally in front of you—it all just feels surreal.

It’s better than you imagined, perfect.

“I don’t have a—”

You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off immediately. “S’okay, like it raw. Closer to you that way.” You murmur.

Joel looks physically pained that he’s not inside you right now. For some reason, you just know all the right things to say.

“Closer to me?” He huffs out, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the bed where he stood.

Now your cunt is flush with the base of his member and the sensation drives you both insane. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”

Joel rasps, but the way he says it reveals just how far he’s fallen. He knows you’re crazy, and yet here he is, balancing you out.

He glides his member back and forth against your folds, gathering up your wetness with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows.

He looks so concentrated—meanwhile you’re writhing with pleasure and impatience. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for him.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs to himself, eyes tracing all over you.

You freeze.

Joel had complimented you for the first time, and it was genuine.

He notices you stiffen and takes a moment to pause.

Your entire body erupts with goosebumps, your heart beating at exceptionally fast speeds.

He's worried for a second that something is horribly wrong.

“What?” He asks, confused at what’s got you so wound up.

Your face is flushed red as you bashfully giggle. “You called me pretty.”

Ah fuck.

Joel finds you so charming it hurts.

After he remembers how to breathe again, he rolls his eyes and clears his throat.

“I have my cock to your cunt, of course I find you pretty.”

You smile and shrug. “Still. Nice to hear.” You’re all smiles until his tip prods at your entrance, causing a gasp to leave your throat.

He continues to apply pressure with his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

“Fuck Joel—are you trying to kill me?” You whine, hips wiggling to get him in.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Relax, m’almost there.”

Slowly, he begins pushing his way inside. His mushroom head breaches you entirely and it feels like you can hear the angels singing.

He continues forward, the stretch being mainly around the middle of his thick cock.

But you’re taking it like a champ.

Joel braces himself with hands on both sides of your torso as he bottoms out, a groan crawling its way out of his throat.

The sensation is absolutely delicious.

A little bit of pain from the stretch, but so much pleasure from the fullness.

“Joel, ohmygod you feel so good inside me.” You moan, throwing your head back.

Your hips start moving on their own, but he immediately stops you with two large hands.

“D-Don’t move—fuck.” Joel grumbles out, his face pinched together in what looked like pain.

You’re confused for a moment, thinking maybe that he might just be really into cockwarming.

But then it hits you.

“Were you gonna come?” The tone in your voice makes it seem like you’d be elated if that was the case—like the most flattering thing in the world.

Joel looks pissed that you caught on so quick.

In truth, the moment he put his tip in, he was holding back his orgasm.

Can you blame him? He’s only fucked his hand for the last couple years.

“S’been a while.” Is all he can say, his chest heaving up and down in concentration. You know he’s embarrassed, but you can’t help but smile like a dope at him.

“If you come, please do it inside, please,” you beg, reaching out for his arms that caged you in.

Joel's rational mind feels like it just touched down in looney town after hearing your begging.

He feels crazy because he liked the thought of the idea you proposed. You even see him hesitate. But then he scoffs and shakes his head.

Joel drops down closer to your face, slowly starting to rock his hips into you. "Tryin' to baby trap me, girl?" He grunts in your ear, making you moan out.

Your walls are clenching down on him, and it’s making it that much harder to hold back. “No-no, promise, just wanna be full of you." You manage to blubber out...unconvincingly.

You probably didn't really want a baby with Joel, but your lust-driven brain was working on fumes and you just wanted to do what felt good.

Joel's grunting in your ear was not helping things. His fingers were gripping your hip so hard, you figured it would probably bruise tomorrow

Good. You wanted whatever he would give you.

"Christ--m'not gonna last much longer," Joel groans, picking his head up a little to meet your gaze. He wanted to kick himself for not being able to last, but when he saw your face, all those feelings disappeared.

You looked so--perfect. Soaking up the moment in case it was the last, god you hoped it wasn't the last time. Now that you've finally had a tase of him, you weren't sure you could live without it.

Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him firmly in your cunt. Joel notices this and also your pleading eyes, a growl leaving his throat.

"Please, please, please, please," you beg, never breaking eye contact with him as his thrusts pick up speed.

He ruins your long string with pleas with a needy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat like a starving man.

You accept it happily, moaning out into the kiss while Joel manhandles your hips to take his cock.

The feeling is damn near euphoric for both you and him. It gets even better when Joel's hand comes down to rub at your clit again.

Your back arches off the bed as you gasp and moan out, wrapping your arms back around his shoulders. "F-Fuck!" You moan into his ear, probably drooling on his shoulder in the process. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-" you sputter out in choked sobs. He was really good at working on your clit, you couldn't do anything else but thank him for it.

Joel feels a surge of something when he hears you. He's never had a woman thank him in bed before.

It's enough to push him over the edge. And apparently you too.

"I'm gonna come Joel, please don't stop," There are pools of tears in your eyes that Joel is just now noticing. He's about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.

"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. But then he picks up speed again, and in no time he's like a madman jackhammering into you.

You're a mess of screams and cries and moans underneath him, happily taking everything he was giving you.

When Joel feels himself about to come, he notices how your legs are still tightly wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and he manages to scoff out.

"Gotta let me go baby," You've never heard that pet name from him before, and it makes you crumble. His hands move to grab at your thighs, kneading the flesh there.

You whine out but reluctantly release the grip your legs had on him. Joel doesn't waste time before hugging both your legs on his chest, keeping them firmly placed while your feet squirmed by his ear.

"Atta girl," he murmurs before picking up speed again, his cock head pressing into your cervix.

It's all too much for you. Joel looks so amazing pounding into you from above, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his salt and pepper hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.

Your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.

In a staggering turn of events, you come first.

Your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.

Seeing and feeling this, Joel is quick to follow in your steps. He rips himself from that warm hole of yours and pumps himself dry onto your stomach.

You watch it all with wide eyes, you wouldn't have missed Joel's orgasm face for the world!

Of course, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was open as he was breathing heavily, and his eyebrows turned down like he was mad.

God he was so beautiful.

His thick ropes of cum shoot all over your stomach and even your breasts as he jerks himself off to completion.

When he finishes, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes to see you scoop up his cum from your breast with your finger and shove it in your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around his seed and you swallow eagerly, humming out in satisfaction at the taste of him.

Joel's watching in complete fascination, though his expression looks a little angry. When does it not?

"taste so good," you mumble with your finger still in your mouth, looking up at him with your big eyes.

He moves before he can think about it--ripping your hand away from your lips and caging you in a slow but deep kiss.

He soon falls down beside you and soon rolls over onto his back, his chest rising and falling from the excursion.

You curl into his side, watching his side profile so intently. You had just fucked Joel Miller.

And it was everything you had dreamed of. Extreme happiness doesn't even begin to describe your feelings right now.

There's a long stretch of silence that drapes over the both of you. Eventually, Joel breaks it with something extremely off topic.

"Last night...you didn't just come here to say 'hi', did you?"

You're momentarily speechless, not expecting that question from him at all. But you can't stop a giggle from coming through your lips.

"Actually, I came to confront you." Your voice is soft as you begin speaking, thinking back to last night's ordeal.

Joel doesn't expect this answer, his head turns to look at you while you speak. His arm comes down to drape over your shoulder.

"I was really upset cus you rejected me n'all. I just couldn't accept the whole, 'age gap' excuse. I wanted to know if you just really didn't like me or not." You're murmuring, drawing soft lines with your finger on the skin of Joel's chest.

He huffs out a breath at the explanation, shaking his head. "Guess you got your answer, huh." He grumbles out, somewhat ashamed of himself that he couldn't hold back.

You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I did," you chirp happily, admiring his face again. "You know you're gonna have to fuck me, like, everyday now, right?"

You're kidding. But you're also not at all.

Joel scoffs and sits up, moving to pick up both his and your shirts. "Fat chance. Barely had enough stamina for one round." He grunts out, finding the neck hole in your tank top and putting it over your head for you.

You don't bother to pull it down over your breasts so Joel does it for you.

"It's okay, we can build up your tolerance over time." You quip with a teasing smile, loving the way Joel turned to glare a you.

He couldn't believe the youth these days.

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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