#like you can literally see the bullshit spitting from their mouths

[reedeemable]

“I hate this character cause they canonically did something bad in cut content”

[suguru-getos]

| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 2 |

-> Part 1

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna. Chapter Summary: After humiliating Gojo in the cafeteria, he has better ways to force pay-back. Hey! That shirt you ruined, was expensive.

Warnings: Oh he is a real piece of shit here with a barely there moral compass. Mentions of humiliation, bul!ying, belittling, teasing. The reader is slowly getting into an auto-pilot mode.

New chapter every week, comment down below if you want to be tagged! ^^

Taglist: @mc-reborn @tvdumarvelhpsimp @alula394 @getoxmahito @knanamii @he4rts444mi @localginger22 @animeisforkings @ran6ia @creative1writings @lenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @zoemaelol @shoutascoffeepot

It feels like pure humiliation, the way you walked off from the cafeteria. Satoru stood there, the warm, sticky gravy sticking to him. It feels like a sensory nightmare. White hot rage simmering through the very marrow of his bones. He exhales, glancing up just to see if there was anyone dumb enough to enjoy his misery he could stomp on. Nobody had the balls to, nobody has the balls to until you come across.

What was your fucking problem?

He walked away from the cafeteria, long strides eager to seek you out and punish you ruthlessly for your deranged and depraved, bratty behaviour. Satoru Gojo is worshipped like the literal god, who the hell are you? Meanwhile, you, amidst all your molten courage flowing in your veins, were the epitome of anxiety. You can't mistake his blazing steamy rage filled blue eyes greying… to be anything but merciful. You're not delusional.

A veiny, pale hand gripped your hair, the other wrapped around your mouth as you were dragged through the lonesome corridor. You whimpered at the burn in your scalp and before you could register what was happening, Satoru was standing in front of you. Baring his hostile teeth as he grits. "You've done it." He's almost amused, contemplating what more he can do to you, what more can you really handle… then again, does it matter if you can or can’t handle?

"Here's what's going to happen…" He pushed himself against your chest, unrelenting at how disgusting you might feel, transferring the filth on his shirt to yours. You struggled like a fish out of water. Satoru is taller, bulkier, stronger and you realize that soon enough.

"You will be my silly little pet, because guess how much this shirt costs?" He chuckled, whispering gravely against the shell of your ear. "1800 dollars, missy."

You feel shocked upon hearing the price, eyes widening as he slowly leaned his hand away so you could speak.

"Either you fucking pay me back, with interest for each day. Or you shut the fuck up and be my silly little pet for a month I will stomp on, my little useless errand girl. Sounds fitting to someone who looks like you, no?" He smirks, watching the colour fade in your eyes. He is sort of impressed by himself, the way he instantaneously thought of such a brilliant idea. That money means nothing to him, but not everyone is that blessed.

Once you finally gathered what was happening, you raised a brow. "Why should I be an errand girl to someone who collided against me and is now begging to be paid for his filthy shirt? Learn to walk properly asshole!" You spit back, eyes siren and jaw gritted.

"Kay then, I will ask your mommy and daddy to pay for their daughter's bullshit." He left your hair, the pain subsiding into a dull ache.

He wasn't fucking serious was he? You and your parents weren't essentially on the best terms, they have just shifted to Tokyo and while they would be willing to pay, your self-respect wouldn't allow you. Your mother would keep taunting you about this for the rest of your life… you really don't want that.

Satoru noticed the shift in your behaviour when he mentioned your parents - "Heh, guess they don't like you either huh?" He smirked, not caring how hard it would jab you. It kinda did.. but you couldn't care less. Not coming from him especially.

"10 days, of me being your errand girl." You wanted to be ploughed down into death once you uttered these words. There was nothing you could do anyways. Parents involving, not so much…

"A month." Satoru shrugged, smirking. He has you exactly where he wants. His sole goal is to make you cry every single day and make sure you apologize for being a little shit to him.

"And, you do whatever the fuck I say you to. If I tell you to clean my shoe with your tongue, you 'fucking' clean my shoe with your tongue."

Oh it felt like dying, like you were stabbed endlessly by a thousand swords when he said that.

"How do I know after a month you wouldn't bother me or my parents with the money?" Satoru raised a brow, smirking. "I'm a man of my word, little bitch." He squeezed your face in a single hand, watching your puckered lips. "I say you're free after a month, then you're free after a month, though you'll wish every single day that you paid me back." He chuckled, rolling his eyes as he let go of your face with a jerk, letting the back of your head collide a little with the wall.

You were so cute, small, stompable…

"See me when the school ends."

Satoru walked away with that, and your shoulders slumped. This is what it has truly come to? You needed some time to yourself after this, why are you always so pushy and so cocky? What if you didn't humiliate him… a month of sheer torture is what you've signed up for, just to not be tortured by your mother. Besides, it's a lot of money and you don't think your parents owe you because a shitty ass senior got pissed.

You dragged your feet to him, after the school ended. His whole group was present, they were busy chitchatting. Satoru perked up like a spoiled brat the moment his eyes glazed through you beneath the glasses. "My little lap bitch is hereeee~" He perked, walking towards you and smirking at how you grimace when you see the way he was treating you.

"Go, fetch us popsickles." He grinned, giving you the money. You didn't say anything, trying oh so hard not to slap him across the face and breathing out. "Mkay."

You looked up, counting the number of people, "Excluding yourself, no popsickles for you." He simply shrugged.

Oh he was getting beneath your nerves so bad. "I wouldn't buy them for myself." You explained anyway, "Don't wan' em." With that, you walked away, getting to the vending machine and getting those fucking popsickles which you rather wish were poisoned so he dies for good.

When you're back, he made sure you give them to everyone, made sure you give it to him- after opening the packet- and then dropped it.

"Whoops, gotta run again lil girl." He chuckled, his friends were… stunned too. Satoru is a cunt, they all know that. He pushes people through their limits but he's never been this much of an asshole towards any girl. Maybe because none of them did anything except slither around him and worship him.

You tear up, you have never… felt this humiliated in your life ever. Nanami gives his popsickle to Satoru, "Here, Gojo san. I don't want it. Please take it." He is so polite, kind… but his Senpai had other plans.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" He raises his voice a little, and you are left with nothing but a reminder of him demanding this money from your parents. Your feet are stoned to the ground though, unmoving. "Okay." You managed to say again, taking a deep breath as you force yourself to the vending machine yet again, bringing back his popsickle.

You thought highschool would be fun, you would make new friends, go to karaoke parties, excel in subjects, in extra curriculars, whatnot.. you never expected yourself landing into the clutches of rich asshole Gojo Satoru.

Once you're back, you unwrap it again and give it to him. For fuck's sake he finally accepted.

"Kay, gimme your number." He extends his hand with his phone on it, letting you reluctantly add your number and saving it as 'Servant'. Showing it to you to rub salt on your wounds. "Off you go, see you tomorrow." He smiled. You were relieved you don't need to see his face for the rest of the day.

Once you reached home, you cried. All the emotions overwhelming you all at once. Guess he was right, he will make you cry everyday..

The rest of the day passes by in a haze before you find yourself back in school again.

"OH good morning little errand girl!" Satoru's presence looms, he was waiting for you at the entrance, you looked up at him. Not responding for now. You needed to get to class. OH so you're being indifferent now? Satoru is pissed…

"So eager to go to class, I have a job for you though!" He snickers, watching your stompy feet come to a pause. Good, you were still listening. He will push you a little more. "During the lunch time, go and bring my lunch for me, kay? You won't eat unless I finish." He smirked, walking away.

The problem is… it's not fun anymore. At least… not how it was when you retaliated. Maybe he shouldn't have used the money thing and just teased you when you had the means to push it back. You just nodded and left.

During the lunch time, you did as directed. Bringing his plate to him in front of everyone… oh it satiated his silly little ego so much.

Though he wonders if you will snap… finally. If not, he can just push it. No? He extends his hand to Haibara who reluctantly gave his water bottle to Satoru.

Before you could process what happened, you were drenched. The white shirt now translucent, showing your bra. Everyone laughed, some of them were gawking at how the shirt does no justice to you, now that it sticks to your skin, you look much more delectable. "Oops, my hand slipped." He says again, though he knows he's pushed this one too hard. Today was only the second day. Besides, a vile feeling erupted beneath him when he felt others gawk at you. Look away. Look. THE FUCK. AWAY.

Rolling his eyes, he puts his blazer on you, "Here, go get changed.." He mumbled, your silence was not helping. Not fucking helping when you shivered at the coldness of your body, how you just… took it. You didn't even cry, this was to be expected from him anyways.

You nodded, walking towards the infirmary alone. "For fuck's sake…" Satoru snarled, whatever left of his inner conscience slapping him hard as he followed you to it. Making sure you change your clothes and gave you a juice.

You were silent again, taking it from him. "Got nothing to say?" He raises a brow, "I thought you were all big and mean…" He emphasized again.

"Nothing to say. I expected worse." You shrugged, walking away. You expected 'worse'? What kind of worse…

"What the fuck do you mean?" He holds your wrist, "You know, like beating me the fuck up or something." You looked at his eyes. Wow… you truly think of him as vile and disgusting don't you? Why does it pinch him so hard? He's done nothing but bother you and made you believe he is trash.

"Kay." He mumbles, walking away. He's the one bullying you and he's the one being bullied at the same time.

Satoru Gojo doesn't bother you for the rest of the week and the weekend after.

Monday… he asks you to hold his bag for him all the way to his home. Watches you cutely manage both yours and his bag when he could easily hold your bag and you…

You're panting softly when you reach the Gojo estate, cutting the call from your mother and texting her you'll be late. "Here's your bag." You gave it to him and he took it from you easy peasy. "Alright, well.." He can see the sweat beads on your forehead, the way you are twisting your shoulder for relief. Suguru has already stopped talking to him because of this behaviour. You look cute, even when you piss him off so bad.

"Go run home." Satoru scoffs and leaves. Maybe he should just shorten the duration from a month to 15 days… but then, would you become the rebel he liked you to be or would you just ignore him…. contemplation, contemplation… and lots of contemplation.

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 7: congee   

contents: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru & reader, ieri shoko & reader, extreme friendship, swearing, fluff, gojo being really whiny this chapter, gojo calls you babe.

summary:  a healthy satoru gojo was already annoying, but a sick satoru gojo is almost unbearable. shoko comes up with a plan, while you and gojo learn about the things that you have in common.

wc: 5.2k

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

“oh my god, gojo.” you deadpan, shaking your head. “cmon babe, answer the question.” he whines between a mouthful. you roll your eyes, abruptly moving to get up. ughhh. why did he have to tease you all the time? his dull eyes widen at the prospect of you leaving, “nononono, okay – okay, you don’t have to answer … just stay, please?”

ieri shrugs off her covers in a huff, irritation oozing from her restless body as her phone dings yet again. groaning as she got up, she snatches her phone from her desk, the brightness from the phone making her squint. she mashes the call button with disproportional aggression –  it was way too early for gojo’s bullshit, even for her.  “what the fuck do you want? do you know what time it is?” she spits out, hearing gojo’s familiar huff on the line.  “’was just textin’ you, boo! you didn’t have to call, that was your choice!” ieri rolls her eyes at this audacity, noting that his usual baritone sounded strange. “i cant sleep when all I hear is constant dinging, dude!” ieri deadpans, she hears gojo sneeze, her eyebrows raise. “why do you sound like that, satoru?”

“uhh, like what? handsome? hot? attracti–“  “no, you sound sick.”  “no im not, I never get sick.” he snaps, “if you just wanted to hear my voice, shoko –“

a mischievous smile full of realization stretches across ieri’s face, “oh shit – you’re sick aren’t you?” “don’t be an idiot, i’m not sick – i don’t get sick.” he grumbles.    “is a little cold knocking out the gojo satoru?” ieri teases, sitting back down on the side of her bed.  “i swear, you’ve been hanging out with me and suguru too much – “   “heh, were you up all night thinkin’ about your cute babe? is that why you got sick – ” her voice lights up with glee at the prospect of teasing gojo.    “hey!” gojo nearly shouts irritatingly, “you know that isn’t true, sto–“

“oh man so it is true, I fucking cant wait to tell suguru –”

“shokooooo!! just shut up and listen! i’m just tired is al–“ gojo interrupts himself with a coughing fit, in time with ieri’s snickering.  

 “okay, don’t come to class, gojo. you’re actually sick I can already tell.” ieri grimaces.

“aw, are you worried about lil ol’me?” he answers voice hoarse, sounding more and more congested by the minute.  she scoffs, “ugh gross, no. I just don’t want to get sick. stay away from me.” ieri hangs up before gojo could whine. she lies back into bed with a heavy sigh, a healthy satoru gojo was annoying, but a sick satoru gojo was diabolical. he was going to make this everyone’s problem.

gojo satoru: ur so rude to me, u need to fix that ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡) (5:11am)

ieri shoko: wow bitch after I was going to get you soup later?  (5:12am)

gojo satoru: ( ˶°ㅁ°) ! nvm u r my fav don’t tell sugu ily <3 <3 <3 (5:12am)

ieri shoko: see that’s what I thought go sleep now srsly (5:13am)

gojo satoru:   (⸝⸝⸝･ᯅ･⸝⸝⸝)◞♥︎ (5:14am)

ieri takes a screen shot of the text message, glow illuminating her tired face – oh this will come in handy someday. diving back into her plush mattress, ieri’s thoughts move back to gojo, confident that he was pouting miserably in his room. she shuts her eyes with an amused scoff at gojo’s dramatic antics. rolling over into a more comfortable position, she quickly conjures up a wicked plan before falling back to sleep with a grin on her face.

“really, suguru?” you moan as you watch him take some of the bok choy from his own bowl before placing it into yours. “I said that I was okay!” shooting geto a pout.  “stop being such a fucking–“

“hey, you literally just ate one piece.” he judgementally comments as he meets your challenging eyes, silently encouraging you eat more.

“I can serve myself!” you huff as you lean your chin on your closed fist.

“yeah, how are you gonna kick his ass tomorrow if you don’t eat enough?” ieri teases, eyes on her phone.

“I can pin him without it!” you mumble, catching geto’s amused head shake. you easily take a bite of the vegetable courtesy of the big mother hen seated next to you, playfully knocking your knee to his.  

geto really worries too much.

as you swallow the last bite of your bok choy, you look around the table, eyes settling briefly at gojo’s empty chair.

“satoru still feeling like shit?” geto asks catching your loaded gaze, to which ieri groans as she puts her phone down with a clatter. “idiot has a fever but doesn’t want to rest,” ieri says between a mouthful of rice, “he fucking woke me up at 5AM today!” while suguru sighs, mumbling “yeah sounds like him. when I brought him medicine a few hours ago, he was just playing games on his phone.” geto rolls his eyes. “ah shit – that reminds me, i actually should go pick him up some soup or something after this.” ieri sighs, drumming her nails on the kitchen table, “ughhhh yaga wants me at the morgue in 40 minutes though.” you wrinkles your nose, “I never know how you can eat and then go straight to doing… what you do.”

shoko shrugs nonchalantly, taking a bite of the sauteed pork. “mhm, you get used to it.”

“you’re still eating, though – I can go pick up it up? I have to grab something from the combini anyway.” you suggest.

“mhm? you sure?” ieri mumbles, still focused on her meal. “if you wait a couple of minutes I can go with you?” geto suggests. “nah suguru it’s fine, you’re still eating anyway and you have a mission in like 2 hours.” you say quickly taking out your phone to check the time. “what were you going to get for him, ieri?”

“oi! how many times do I have to tell you, it’s shoko!” she throws her crumpled napkin at you, earning her a sheepish smile from you.

old habits are hard to break. and you were stubborn.

though you haven’t been close to her for a long time, you liked ieri. she was outwardly straightforward, smart and determined. ieri had a bluntness to her that you found refreshing albeit a bit harsh at times. often balancing gojo’s playfulness with an iron fist, she would steamroll him and geto when their mischief got too far or more often than not, encourage it when she thought it would be entertaining to watch. like that last week where gojo and geto tried to steal all the clocks at the school, but ieri suggested instead that they turn back all the clocks in the school 2 hours back because she wanted to get more sleep. unsurprisingly she got what she wanted.

but inwardly, you knew ieri as being understanding with a kind forcefulness that you found charming. recently she got into the habit of pushing you to hang out with everyone when all you wanted to do was rot in bed. she’d complain that you were being a “boring old man” and that you should “start acting your age with them,” recently she would even arrive at your door with takoyaki and magazines promising a night new founded laughter. 

her friendship was coarser than geto’s, encouraging you to make mistakes with the background promise of helping you pick up the pieces while berating you for your stupidity. she was the type of person that would have your back but would yell at you if you were making a stupid decision– she fought for you even if that meant fighting against the moronic version of your past self.  friendship was generally a new thing that you were getting used to, but with ieri’s friendship you felt lighter.

“the congee with ginger and chicken broth or something. it’s good for his congestion.” she answers as you take out your phone to type in a note. ieri’s eye catches the silvery gleam of your phone charm dangling from your hands, a knowing smile reaches her lips.

“y’sure? I won’t be that much long – “ geto starts before shutting up immediately as ieri’s foot violently wacks into his shin under the table, earning a repressed grunt.

 “... you good, suguru?” you ask, settling your phone down on the kitchen table. you meet his violet eyes, eyebrow cocked.

“he’s fine!” ieri answers sweetly. geto’s eyes narrow at ieri before she meets his questioning gaze in exasperation. oh my god, suguru – look at the charm! large light brown eyes directing his annoyed gaze to the table. looking at your phone adorned with a familiar silver star, his sly mouth hides the beginning of a shit eating grin, understanding immediately colouring his features. ah, I see.

stretching your neck to the left, you get up with a huff. the chair behind you slightly screeching as you move to collect your dirty dishes and wash them in sink.

“alright, I’ll see you guys later then.” you add brightly, whiping your hands before glancing down your phone screen opened gojo’s contact. quickly slapping your phone closed.

“be safe later, suguru,” you say patting his shoulder, catching his reassuring grin before walking out of the room.

“shoko, that fucking hurt.” geto hisses dramatically after ensuring that you’ve left. his chair moving back with a screech as he rubs his shin, shooting ieri a questioning look. “do you keep rocks in your shoes or something, god.”

ieri sighs. “you know what’s more painful? watching those two idiots! ugh, they need to figure their shit out.” ieri groans reaching across the table to steal a sauteed carrot out of geto’s bowl.

he chuckles, a warm sound reverberating around the corners of the room. “knowing them though, they probably don’t fully know it themselves.”

“yeah, fucking six eyes my ass.” shoko grumbles, taking an aggressive bite out of some broccoli. geto picks out some of the vegetables from of his bowl, chopsticks moving them easily into ieri’s. “give them some time.” ieri takes out her phone to type out a quick message to gojo.

ieri shoko:  you can thank me later  (5:43pm) gojo satoru: for what? ( •̀ - •́ ) FOR WHAT? ????  shokoooooooooo  (5:45pm)

you shrug your long scarf off with a sigh, juggling the bulging plastic bag in hand. your rosy cheeks sting from the cold, you huff to keep your hair out of your face. you sigh before knocking on gojo’s door gently. “gojo?” you call out, knocking louder. foot now tapping impatiently, rolling your eyes “gojo! dude, I brought you foo– you know what, i’m coming in,“ turning the handle, your eyes widen at the sight before you.

gojo was sprawled out diagonally on his bed, limbs falling in different directions like he had just fallen from the sky. his dark blue comforter half on him, an arm propped up cover half his face, dark glasses discarded somewhere, offending eyes shut tight, eyebrows scrunched up sadly. the cold sunlight outside, streaming in from his half-opened window illuminates gojo’s white hair, the messiest you’ve ever seen it. he looked like pathetic fallen mop.  

“gojo?” you whisper, moving deeper into his room, his foot twitches at his name. placing your scarf and plastic bag on his messy desk filled with volumes of manga, stray pens, packs of opened digimon cards and this week’s half finished homework. if you looked closer you saw that he had some rather impressive doodles of curse -hybrid yaga on it and what you thought was a fox version of geto. on the corner of the desk was a small bottle of cold medicine and a box of tissues, probably evidence of geto’s visit earlier in the day.

“gojo..? hey?” you hesitantly move closer to his still figure, the rise and fall of his chest catches your eye. you hated the break the peace, but he had to eat so you gently shook his shoulder.

“mhmmm, hey babe…” he mumbles voice deep and scratchy, blue eyes squinting at you, still tinged in sleep.

“i brought you something to eat, have some before it’s gets cold.” he rolls over onto his front with a groan, speaking into the pillow. you sigh, ill prepared for an even whinier gojo. “I cant understand you when you’re mumbling.” “mmprfff don’t wanna. s’too bright, hurts my head.”

you move across the room to close the window and shut his blinds, “yeah dumbass, the blind are open,” you scoff. moving back to his desk, you rustle through the plastic bag of food, pleased to see that the congee was still hot. retrieving a spoon, a bottle of hot green tea and some napkins as you approach gojo’s bed with purpose.

“don’t be mean to me – im dying.” he hoarsely whines, sniffing.  “you’re not dying, don’t be a drama queen.”

he sneezes loudly, shaking his frame.  “alright, can just sit up? you’ll feel so much better after you eat...”

“m’not hungry.” he plops back into bed, turning his back to you, shrugging his comforter over himself to counter his slight shivering.

you sigh heavily, small hands rubbing your eyes, “i’m not feeding you, c’mon.”

he mumbles noncommittally – a strangled noise between a whine and a grunt– he dramatically adjusts his thick comforter around his strong shoulders. you narrowed your eyes to take in gojo’s appearance - he really didn’t look so good. he was paler than usual, his usual rosey cheeks void of colour, his messy hair, slightly sticking to his clammy forehead.

“gojo, please?” you ask, voice tilting up. “you have to help yourself too, y’know?” you add quietly, a strange softness in your tone that he barely recognizes. turning his head he meets your eyes and for a second you see his eyes shine a little brighter.

he sighs, moving up to lean his back against the headboard, legs crossed, pouting up at you, his hair ruffled like a sad cockatiel. you turn around quickly to hide your giggle at his childish expression and helpless state, instead busying your hands with the plastic bag.

“careful,” you mumble as you place the plastic bowl of congee into his clammy hands, dipping the spoon into it. “it’s hot.” he murmurs his thanks with a sniffle, allowing the warmth of the plastic bowl to ease his discomfort in his body. the fact that you were here – in his room – was a big comfort that he couldn’t deny.

after you watch him carefully swallow a few spoonfuls in approval, you look at him with a frown on your face. “you know why you got sick? because you didn’t wear a warm enough coat in sapporo.” you nag.

he weakly grins “yeah, because I was warming you up on the floor, maybe next time it should be the other way around, eh?” you breathe in sharply, cheeks burning at the memory of you how woke up next to gojo in your hotel room in sapporo last week. his soft breathing comforting you, his right arm was out stretched welcoming your smaller frame as you settled comfortably by his side. he was warm but your cheeks burned even hotter when you remembered gojo’s yelp as you accidentally smacked in the face in surprise as you struggled to create some distance. Gojo was too close for your liking. you sighed in relief as your alarm you had set on your phone went off, a loud disturbance snapping you back to reality and saving yourself from the awkward discussion. you had hoped he wouldn’t bring it up again.  “i’d rather swallow a curse.”  you deadpan, shuffling your feet, crossing your arms across your chest.

“even like that super ugly one that suguru swallowed?”

“i’d swallow the ugliest curse.”  you retort immediately. gojo whines your name as he shoots you a dirty look in exchange for your too proud grin. “really, babe? that’s so rude. …what about that slimy one last week?” “you mean that gross slug thing that ieri said looked like you?” you snicker. he huffs, “it did not look like me! that thing had like 6 weird humps.”

“those weird humps were probably the reason why suguru threw up for like 2 days after.” “heh, he said it was one of the worst tasting. ‘member how he complained that it tasted so bad for only a second grade? then he ate all my melon gummies after.” you laugh at the memory of geto ferally tearing open the gummies and pouring them into his mouth to gojo’s incredulous’ gawking. “hey,” he sniffs. gojo pats the to the side of his bed, a silent invitation to sit. “you’re making me nervous just standing there, grumps.” he croaks.

you hesitate, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “I swear gojo.. if you get me sick – “

“i wont!” he whines. “god, babe. cut me some slack.” gojo pouts. usually gojo’s dramatic pouts had no effect on you, you’ve seen them time and time again, his pouts almost a permeant fixture on his face. it’s efficiency fading with it’s increasing frequency.  but this time coupled with his low energy and his pale face emphasizing the dark rings around his eyes - you have the decency to feel a little bad.

you gingerly sit on the side of his bed, careful to not jostle his dinner too much. you watch gojo grab the spoon and gently blows on the rice porridge before bringing it to his lips.

 “… thanks.” he says meeting your eyes as he stirs around the congee with his spoon.

“hm?”

“for this,” he motions at his bowl of still hot soup.

 “s’okay. im only here because ier – uh shoko asked.”

he drops the spoon dramatically. “what, so you’re saying that you don’t care about me?” he coughs, tone sharp and wounded. “oh my god, gojo.” you deadpan, shaking your head.

“cmon babe, answer the question.” he whines between a mouthful. you roll your eyes, abruptly moving to get up. ughhh. why did he have to tease you all the time? his dull eyes widen at the prospect of you leaving, “nononono, okay – okay,  you don’t have to answer … just stay, please?”

you weren’t used to gojo asking you for things so sincerely. he must feel terrible to be this open with you. you study his face, perhaps you would be merciful today.

“you don’t really shut up, even when youre sick, eh?” you grumble.

gojo visibly brightens when you flop back down beside him onto his bed, lying on your back stretching out slightly with a groan. “nah not really, even when I was a kid.” he coughs.

“…did your servants take care of you when you got sick?”  you mention casually, picking at your nails. “mhm yeah, but I never really got sick that often.” he says thoughtfully. “they made sure I was always healthy, I had to take those shitty vitamins all the time. something about how important it was to train and fully harness the gifts given to you blah blah blah…”  

“yeah but when you did I bet everyone knew about it.” “what can I say? i’m kind of a big deal.”  

“more like a big pain in the ass.” he scoffs, placing his half full bowl of soup on his beside table. blinking slowly.

 “heh, I know you like this as–“

 “hey. finish your food. i walked in the cold to get that for you!” craning your neck to see how much he’s eaten.

“m’full.” “gojo. ive seen you eat like 6 burgers in one sitting, you can’t possibly be full.”  “don’t want it. i feel bad.” he whines softly, laboured breath, the mattress jostling as he lies down beside you.

you prod his shoulder, sighing. “at least take your medicine.”  “don’t want it. tastes gross.” he mumbles turning his back on you one more, shrugging his head into his shoulders as if to hide from you.

“just a few more bites –“ “nuh uh.” he buries himself in his comforter, moving it over top of his head.

you palm your forehead. you had to be patient. gojo was sick, he couldn’t help it, right?

“if you take it… I’ll give you a surprise.” you try, lips slightly moving up in approval as the blankets shift, his ears perking up. “… a surprise?”

“mhm. a good one.” gojo’s imagination runs rampant. he was never one for material objects, he got whatever he wanted when he was young. whatever he asked for - even mentioned in passing - it would magically appear the next day. but this was different. this was something from you. something with him in mind, whatever it was he knew that he would cherish it, pin it up on his wall so he could look at it every day if he could.  gojo knew you were thoughtful, he’d see the way you listened to ieri offhandedly mention her coffee order at break only for you to arrive to class with her perfectly made coffee the next week. gojo had recalled the time geto had mentioned that you had packed some of geto’s favourite homemade umeboshi onigiri for a mission with the excuse of “you always forget to pack lunch on early missions and I already had the ingredients.” gojo didn’t even know that geto liked umeboshi onigri. you were a deadly combination of quietly thoughtful and observant, but he noticed that you strangely went out of your way to refuse anything in return. perhaps his surprise would be a slice of cake or, maybe a pack of digimon cards! or maybe a promise to accompany him to jinbocho get some manga with him, something he’s been nagging you to do for weeks. but if he was being honest, he fostered a silly fragile hope that the surprise could maybe, just possibly be a soft brush of your lips on his cheek -  “take it or leave it. it’s a really good one, i promise.” promise? those are big words coming from you. you were never one threw around words so carelessly.

sensing victory in his hesitation, you move to get the medicine on his messy desk that geto had left there. shaking the pills playful, you glance at his hopeful face. sighing, he sticks out his hands as you cheekily deposit 2 pills into his large palm. he swallows the offending antidote, while you hand him the bottle of green tea to wash it down.

“now, where’s my surprise?” he says as you lie back into his messy bed.   “stick out your hand.”

obediently, he quickly reaches his hand out.

you smack you’re palms against his, in a shitty high five. you laugh in gojo’s face of betrayal. “ah, aren’t you the luckiest guy in japan, not everyone gets one of those from me.” but satoru gojo was a sore loser, he was always going to force your hand. he easily loops his fingers through yours, hands settling on top of the covers. your eyes widening ever so slightly at the sudden movement.

“so stingy with me, babe.” he comments under his breath. still holding your hand gently, his thumb moving back and forth on the back of your hand. he was warm, warmer than usual – maybe his fever was returning.

almost instantly you snatch your hand back, your senses coming back to you, mumbling something about how he was infected. in the warm lighting of his room, he relishes in the slight blush decorating your cheeks, his hazy grin shining the brightest of all. you frown lightly as gojo usual’s soft triumphant laugher came out as wheezy huffs. he sounded like he was getting worse.

crossing your arms across your chest, you turn slightly away of him as you take in your surroundings, trying to focus anywhere but the irritating boy beside you. it was your first time in gojo’s room. it was neater than you had expected albeit your expectations weren’t high. he had a shelf full of volumes of mostly shonen manga – but your eyes catch a few familiar romance manga titles pushed to the very edge of the shelf –  spines bent and well read. he had a comfortable looking chair piled with spare uniforms and that light blue hoodie you remembered he wore in sapporo.  he had a small tv in the corner hooked up to a game cube, multiple game covers stacked in a pile, probably where him and geto spent most of their time. despite all of the gojo’s little toys, his room was almost bare of any personal touches, no letters from home or photographs of the gojo estate or with his parents.

“was this taken at the beginning of the year?” you ask, eyes landing on a the sole photograph in his room: a photo of shoko, geto and gojo haphazardly pinned above his desk. “yeah, I think maybe 4 months before ya arrived? we really need to do an updated version with you in it too.” he murmurs, voice muffled by his arm covering his closed eyes. humming you take in the photograph, your eyes dart to  geto to the left, his sleek eyes closed with a soft grin on his face, head tilted towards a much shorter ieri. you almost laugh as you see that part of gojo’s head was cut off due to his height and probably fact that ieri was taking the photo, her smile bright, brown eyes sparkling. on the left gojo had his arms around geto while his right-hand flashes a peace sign as his wild smile echoes his slightly longer messy white hair blowing in the gentle breeze, his dark glasses perched on his face. this was probably taken around early summer last year judging by the lush green trees in the background. they looked so happy despite knowing each other for only a few months. it was strange to you how they could be so close in such a short amount of time. “…it’s weird isn’t it?” he asks, eyes still closed.

“hm? what is?” “having friends.”

it was almost irritating at how easily gojo could catch you off guard, always two steps in front of you. his reputation as the strongest shining true.  you turn your head to meet his tired half opened eyes. “.. yeah, it – it is.” “I had to get used to it too, but it’s fun though, right?” he grins at you, “suguru hated me in the beginning.” “suguru?” you laugh incredulously. “yeah he was so fucking particular about the stupidest shit. i got along better with shoko initially – she was more straightforward and she let me have her pineapple buns in the morning.”

“it’s probably because you’re cocky and annoying,” his eyes full openly your scalding comments.

“hey, I’m not an–“ “ – and you always get him in trouble.” you add thoughtfully.

“me?! he’s the one who comes up with half of the plans! laxatives in yaga’s coffee? suguru! the random evacuation last week because of flooding on the second floor? not me - suguru!”  he starts to chuckle but it turns into a cough, he settles into lie on his side to see your face better. “gotta admit, those were good though.”

“‘member when ya first arrived and no one was allowed to be left alone of the cursed weapons shed? yeah, exactly. not me! baby’s not so innocent, he definitely has some evil ideas, babe.” he sniffs, adjusting the covers to cover himself better.  

you snicker, that sounded right to you. you could see geto’s chaotic streak when he sparred with you, often yelling out random things to catch you off guard and annoyingly they worked. while geto was sly about his mischief, quietly fostering chaotic ideas and plans, gojo was boisterous about his chaos, wearing it proudly on his chest – they really did compliment each other well.

“sure, gojo –  but you’re the one who encourages his ideas.”

he pouts, but before he could retort he feels you shift closer to him to creep your hand onto his forehead, the gesture causing gojo’s heart to beat erratically.

“you’re really warm, dude.” gojo has to quickly swallow the purr that threatens to escape his tongue, as your hands brush his bangs out of the way, sweeping his scalp gently. with your soft skin tingling on his, he finds that he’s disappointed that your touch retreats too quickly.

“yeah, you look like shit,” you tilt your head back to get a better look at his flushing face, “you’re really red, are you feeling okay? ” you say, eyebrows furrowed, “do you want me to get you more tea or something?” propping yourself up on your elbow. with his eyes half closed he shakes his head softly, “nah, m’okay.” “then fully close your eyes, dude. try and get some rest. your body clearly needs it.” “don’t wanna. s’too boring.” you tsk at his at his stubbornness, noting that he was already drifting off.

he's so fucking stubborn.

he falls asleep gently and then all at once.  if you were held at gunpoint and you had to choose your favourite version of gojo it would be of the current one lying in bed.  in the daytime, gojo was constantly vibrating with excitement, a never-ending flow of energy overflowing from his over the top presence. you could sense his cursed energy if he was within a 10-foot radius. it was blinding and overwhelming, easily engulfing you, it’s strength powerful and overbearing – just like him. gojo. but here in his room, he was quiet and free from his cocky smile and smart tongue. in this light he was bathed in a gentleness that seemed entirely out of place with the honoured one. you thought it was almost selfish that you preferred him this way, softer, unguarded – weak. even gods have an off day, you suppose.  but lying on his bed while he felt so unwell, you couldn’t help but see him for what he really was – just a boy. a teenager who chattered about his favourite foods, complained about homework and wanted to hang out with his friends. satoru. this realization felt heavy, being with him in this moment, there was an unfamiliar pull you didn’t understand. Lying beside him drowning in his scent as you see his unguarded slow breathing, you’re more aware of his memories surrounding you, enclosing you in this space. to distract yourself, you decide to tidy up his room.

careful not to wake him for a second time today, you roll off his bed. collecting his container his half eaten food, you place the barely touched bottle of green tea on his bedside table beside the bottle of pills. finding his glasses on the floor you place them on his desk as you plug his phone in to charge, softly playing with the silver beads of his phone charm. after clearing his desk, you turn to adjust his comforter softly. gently you raise his blanket to tuck him into bed, ensuring that all his gangly limbs were covered. your eye catches gojo’s soft sleeping face, he way his lip juts out slightly in his slumber mouth slightly open, his fair eyebrows scrunching like he was thinking about something. did he dream? you wondered what he could possibly dream of when he had the world at his fingertips. you hoped that if he did dream, they were peaceful ones. you hesitantly reach out to touch his cheek, convincing yourself that you were just checking his fever. you were relieved that he wasn’t as warm as he was did before, silently enjoying the way his cheek felt on your palm. “get better soon, gojo.” you whisper, watching his face relaxing at your touch. sighing, you quickly retreat your disobedient hand as you move to turn off his lamp. quiet strides to move across his room before shutting his door gently. you were already halfway into your room when you laugh softly in realization:  you did care about satoru gojo. when did that happen?

snackies!tags: @starmapz @ghost-buddies

a/n: all hail queen shoko!!! i'm so glad to finally get to write her. this chapter had some intense friendship moments that were fun to write. hope ya'll enjoyed this thick juicy chapter - head image credit: Toradora! dividers from: @/adornedwithlight

[swampstew]

Can I request Buggy with Fluff N3 for the event? Thank you!! ❤️❤️❤️

Hello anon❤️ Thank you for your submission and patience! I hope you get a chance to read this :) You requested fluff, subtle intimacy, and I give you: [ Simple Touches ] Bandaging/stitching up an injury

Oh Captain, My Captain Buggy

Warnings: None. Fluff and cute stuffs. Ended up sorta sweet n' romantic in a way I wasn't anticipating but Buggy deserves it tbh, cutie but wet n' pathetic King of the Pirates❤️ Word count: 1.1K

“OOOOOWWWWW!”

You push through the pained howls of your Captain as you stitch up his latest injuries. For a man who had eaten the chop-chop fruit, he sure got brutally chopped up by other people more than he should reasonably be.

To be fair, his latest network of contacts involved some intense and no-nonsense individuals. Two in particular who seem to have a rather tight hold on his gorgeous blue head as he did their bidding and processed their contracts.

“DAMNIT Y/N that HURTS!” Buggy hollers at you, tears spilling down his face in pure agony. It makes your heart break. Still you push on.

“It will hurt more if it festers and worsens. Then we’d have to seriously chop pieces off you,” you chide him gently, done with pushing the needle through the tail end of the long gash on his chest. “This is going to sting a bit but I’ll count down from 3. 3—” you tightened the sutures securely before he could hold his breath.

“YYYYEEEEOOOOOWWWW!!!!” his head flew from his neck, as did his hands and feet from his body. “GRR!! YOU ENJOYED THAT TOO MUCH!” he spit at you.

You give him an unimpressed look, “You know that that’s not true. Now get back here. You have some wounds on your face and right hand that need to be disinfected and bandaged. If you can make it through without any complaints, I’ll give you a treat. Sound good?”

His head reattaches to his head but his hand floats down to grip his chin, “A treat? What kind of treat?”

“A nice one. We got a deal?”

With a nod, Buggy reassembles himself and sits still as you inspect each cut and bruise. Washing away the dirt and dried blood, applying a salve on the wounds, and wrapping each one in a bandage or long, woven cotton wrap to soak up any leaking from the cuts. A hushed song brews in your throat and without realizing it, you start to emit the tune from your lips as you patch him up.

Buggy watches you closely as you lightly hum to yourself while you work. Normally, he would literally talk his ass off about anything and everything – but watching you treat him so tenderly has his mouth dry and his mind quiet. Trying to understand the feelings in his chest that you cause him to have with your firm but kind personality. Not understanding why you treat him with such dignity and warmth despite his antics; you’re one of the few people who sees through his bullshit but you also accept it, encourage it even. In his brain playing back all his interactions with you over the last year that you’ve been on his crew to better understand what your deal is.

His eyes bug out of his head for a moment, a memory unearthing itself. With Alvida.

“I think the new doc likes you, Bugs,” she tilted her cowboy covered head at Buggy. When he gave her a confused look, she scoffed and used her head to gesture at you sitting at the bar with his most trusted men. “You’re telling me that you’ve NEVER noticed how much time they manage to spend with you, or how they always talk you up? That they know almost everything about you that not even your own crew knows about?” Buggy scoffed, “Most of my crew are idiots, why would I tell those morons anything?” Alvida gave him a bewildered look, “Then why do you share anything with the doc?” “I don’t share EVERYTHING!” “Oh no? So you haven’t spilled to them how Emperor Shanks is the only man you can respect as the next King of the Pirates?” His hands flew to her face and smothered her speech, “QUIET YOU DAMN WOMAN!”

Buggy felt like an idiot.

That was maybe three months ago.

“All done. You should heal up in no time but if you feel worse, you know where to find me.”

Buggy brought his hand to the back of his neck, “Yeah. Sure.” He wasn’t sure how to pivot from being a crybaby patient to a flashy guy with rizz when he suddenly felt…overly aware of how he acts around you. To be perceived by you and now knowing that you were perceiving him.

“Wh-where’s my treat?”

“Oh that’s right I do owe you a nice one. Wait right here.”

His mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to plan, trying to scheme a charming personality in 2-seconds flat as he watches you go to your desk and pull out a dark bottle. Buggy didn’t notice how attractive your face is as he did just now. He always thought you were the most attractive in the crew in general, but now he was seeing your face. And he found that…he actually quite liked it.

Your step falters are you become aware of his intense stare. You feel…insecure suddenly. Is there something gross on your face or scrubs? Does he not like liquor suddenly? Oh no, is your hair messy?? With a trembling hand you tuck some loose hair behind your ear and lightly touch your scrub as you present the bottle.

“An aged rum that I nicked from our last raid. I hear it’s a grossly expensive brand.”

Buggy took the bottle and rolls it in his hands quietly, not saying anything at all. You watch him nervously, anxiety eating at your gut, a hot flush spreading behind your ears and the back of your neck. You know for a fact that Buggy likes expensive things, no matter what it is. Even if he hates what it actually is, like that time he tried bull fighting fish caviar. He was laid up in your office for a week after that one. He still keeps a preserved jar around, just so he can say he has it on hand.

“I hear it goes well with steak, or something,” you mumble, confidence draining away slowly.

He perks up to that, “Steak? Oh yeah, yes that does sound like a good pairing.” He stands up from the cot and shifts on his feet.

Buggy the Star Clown is shooting his shot.

“If I make Cabaji cook up a few steaks, would you…be interested in joining me for dinner? A flashily impromptu date?”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head, that being the last thing you expect to hear from him. You had been certain that you would have to ask him out yourself with all the hints and nudges you gave him in the past seemed to go, well, right over his head.

“Oh! Y-yes that sounds nice!”

Smiling, Buggy turns to exit. Passing through the threshold he turns back to add, “I’ll pick you up at your cabin later. Escort you to the dining hall and all that jazz.” He ducks out of the room.

You’re glad he isn’t there anymore because your knees weaken and you grab the cot in support. Thrilled, you look at your schedule and decide to close up early. The injured would have to stay injured on their time, you had an important date tonight.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Beetober 2024 Day 3 - Oh brother

Hitoshi is only half awake as he shuffles over to the kitchen, where the tantalizing smell of coffee is calling to him. He grunts when he makes out two shapes in front of him, too tired to really open his eyes fully, and he throws himself into his chair to the sound of light chuckling.

“There you go,” Yamada’s annoyingly chipper voice informs him and Hitoshi immediately hones in on the pot of coffee being slid towards him.

Sweet, sweet liquid of life.

He cradles the cup close, inhaling the sweet aroma for a moment before he takes a big gulp, effectively burning his mouth and not caring one bit.

It’s only when Yamada lets out a considering hum that Hitoshi finally blinks his eyes open for real.

Yamada is seated across from Hitoshi, his eyes darting from Hitoshi to his left and when he follows Yamada’s gaze, he’s not really surprised to find Aizawa slumped right next to him, cup of coffee equally cradled in his hands.

“I think I want a paternity test,” Yamada says out of the blue and Hitoshi startles badly enough to make the coffee slosh over the rim.

“What?” he stutters out because he doesn’t think he heard that quite right.

“A paternity test. For you and Shou. I think that’s something we’ll have to do at one point,” Yamada goes on, as if his words aren’t completely and utterly insane and Hitoshi looks over to Aizawa, silently pleading for the other man to say something.

“Irrational,” Aizawa grunts out, because of course he would and Hitoshi and Yamada let out the same amused snort.

“I don’t think so,” Yamada says, after winking at Hitoshi before he motions for him to drink more. “I mean, look at you two. You’re practically mirror images of each other. Zombies in the morning. Eyebags for days. Gravity defying hair. Mental quirk that scares the shit out of other people. Absolute adoration for cats. No time for bullshit in the mornings and only marginally more time for bullshit any other time of the day. I think we really need to get that tested.”

“We’re not related,” Hitoshi and Aizawa say at the same time and then share a brief, amused glance.

Yamada wildly gestures with his hands as if to underline his point and Hitoshi rolls his eyes as Aizawa narrows his own at Yamada.

“I’ve only ever been with you. There’s no reason to get a paternity test.”

“Yeah, well, indulge me, huh?” Yamada says without missing a beat. “And besides. If it says negative I get to harass you of literally having a soulmate in son form, because there’s no way the universe created Hitoshi and made him like this without the express intent to bring him to us.”

It makes Hitoshi’s face burn, but for once it’s not out of shame. His previous foster parents would have meant that to hurt, would have hidden barbs and insults in a statement like that, but Yamada simply means it.

He thinks Hitoshi was made to be fostered by Aizawa and him and it makes warmth unfurl in Hitoshi’s chest.

“Fine,” Aizawa says, much to the surprise of everyone at the table. “But you’ll do one, too.”

“Me?” Yamada asks, pointing a finger at himself, as if Aizawa could mean anyone else and Yamada and Hitoshi share a confused look.

“But we’re nothing alike?” Hitoshi also offers now, because he can kind of see why Yamada would ask this of Aizawa.

Hell, Todoroki is still insisting that Hitoshi has to be Aizawa’s secret love child and by now he has at least half the class convinced, too. Hitoshi has to admit that there are some similarities between them but with Yamada? They have nothing in common at all.

“Prowess in the kitchen. The way you drink your coffee. Voice-activated quirk. Uncanny observational skills. The ability to play a room to your liking. If I have to do a paternity test based on what you said then you have to do one as well.”

Hitoshi stares into his coffee, as black as the machine spits it out, before he looks over to Yamada, who also drinks his coffee black. Aizawa on the other hand has milk and sugar at the ready, because he despises the bitter taste if he has another chance.

It’s one point in his favour but—

“I can’t cook nearly half as good as Yamada,” Hitoshi complaints and Aizawa snorts into his cup.

“Maybe, but your cookies are to die for,” he easily gives back and now even Yamada nods.

“He’s kind of right, kiddo,” Yamada slowly says, clearly still thinking Aizawa’s words over. “And I mean it’s only fair, right?”

“And like this we can be sure that he was made to be both our soulmate-son,” Aizawa says as if that makes any sense at all and still, Hitoshi ducks his head in embarrassment when his cheeks go yet again hot to the touch.

“Alright,” Yamada cheerily says and claps his hands together, clearly done with that topic for today and Hitoshi briefly wonders just how fast this entire thing will be forgotten by the two adults.

~*~*~

It turns out that nothing ever gets forgotten in the Aizawa-Yamada household because three days later Yamada sets two small boxes down on the kitchen table.

“What’s that?” Aizawa asks, eyeing the boxes with distaste and Yamada gasps as if he mortally offended him.

“The paternity tests we talked about,” Yamada says just before Aizawa can reach out for the box and it makes him freeze.

“You were serious,” he mutters after a moment and Hitoshi is left staring between the two, because he doesn’t quite know what to say to any of this.

He thought Yamada was joking, too.

“Of course I was. Imagine, Shou, just imagine, the test results come back negative. We hang them on the fridge and then put the adoption paper right over them!”

Hitoshi jerks at the reminder of the still ongoing adoption process, because there’s a small part of him that still can’t believe they really, truly want to adopt him.

But the necessary files have been filled out, all the required visits and talks have been done and now it’s just a waiting game.

And Hitoshi has to admit that it would be a little bit funny, to do what Yamada just said.

Aizawa must think so too, because his face goes all soft in that way that still surprises Hitoshi even after almost a year of living with them, and when Aizawa briefly glances over at him, Hitoshi knows that they are going to do it.

And really, what’s the harm in a silly, little thing like that, right?

~*~*~

Hitoshi is almost ashamed to admit it, but when Yamada comes in with two identical letters, nerves settle in his stomach.

It’s stupid, because they all know what they are going to say but Hitoshi still can’t shake the slight feeling of dread running through him.

He knows Aizawa and Yamada care for him, it’s more than obvious in their behaviour and even more so in their wish to properly adopt him but he still can’t help but to think that maybe the results of this one stupid test will change everything.

Maybe they will read that they are not his father’s and then it will suddenly dawn on them that they want nothing to do with him.

“Hey, kid, you okay?” Aizawa asks, pressing into his side for a moment, effectively grounding Hitoshi who comes back to himself at that.

“I’m fine,” he says and he can tell just how believable it is by the raised eyebrow he receives from Yamada.

“Sure you are. You want us to open this, or burn it?” he asks and it’s not an empty offer.

Hitoshi knows that they would do it without hesitation should he even so much as hint at wanting that and so he shakes his head.

“We’re opening them,” he decides and sits down at the kitchen table, expectantly looking at Aizawa and Yamada to join him.

They do almost immediately but when Yamada slides Aizawa’s letter over to him, he shakes his head.

“You open them both, and then just tell us,” he grumbles, leaning slightly to the side, just enough to be able to brush his shoulder against Hitoshi’s and he’s so grateful for this that he presses further into the contact.

“Alright, fine, fine, leave all the work to me then,” Yamada grumbles good-naturedly as he tears the letters open, though he doesn’t immediately read what they say.

He puts both of them on the table, face down, before he grins at them.

“Here it goes,” he then laughs out, flipping both letters over and eyes quickly scanning over them.

Hitoshi knows that something must be horribly wrong when all the colour drains from Yamada’s face and his eyes roam over the pages more quickly, more desperately.

Aizawa must notice it, too, because he leans forward, no longer pretending to be disinterested.

“What’s wrong? What do they say?”

“We’re his uncles,” Yamada’s trembling voice announces and the words are accompanied by a faint ringing in Hitoshi’s ears.

“What?” he breathes out and Yamada reads over the letters again.

“It says, right here—” he accusingly stabs the relevant part “—that we’re his uncles. Both of us. He is our nephew.”

For a moment nothing happens, everything feels suspended in air and then Aizawa jerks away from the table so violently that his chair topples over before he runs out on them.

“What the fuck,” Hitoshi mutters, because nothing about this makes any sense at all, but when he looks at Yamada, he is only met with a watery smile.

“You’re our nephew,” Yamada says again and Hitoshi doesn’t understand how that is possible.

“What is going on?” he demands to know because Yamada is crying and Aizawa left and he supposedly has family and nothing makes sense.

“It’s—fuck,” Yamada mutters and scrubs a hand over his face, before he comes around the table, taking a seat in Aizawa’s previously toppled chair. “So, this wasn’t quite how we wanted to bring up the topic of family to you,” he mutters, even as he tries to give Hitoshi a smile.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, that neither Shou nor I had a very good family,” Yamada admits and reaches out to take Hitoshi’s hand. “I mean, you already know I’m adopted, but I never told you why.”

“And you don’t have to,” Hitoshi blurts out because no matter what those stupid letters say, he doesn’t want to force them to tell him about something they don’t want to talk about.

“It’s fine, kiddo. It’s doesn’t bother me, not anymore. It did for a long time, but—” Yamada trails off with a  shrug. “I was born with my quirk, you know. And my very first scream deafened my birth parents and the staff in the room. From what I’ve gathered, they decided then and there to give me up. I never even learned their names.”

“That’s such a shitty thing to do,” Hitoshi mutters, because it’s hardly Yamada’s fault that he had no control over his quirk as a literal new-born.

Yamada shrugs again.

“It happened and my moms are great so it all turned out fine for me in the end.”

Hitoshi worries his lip for a moment, because even though Yamada seems to be fine with things, the same can’t be said for Aizawa. Who is still hiding away in their bedroom.

“Aizawa—” Hitoshi hesitantly starts and Yamada sighs.

“It’s a bit more complicated for him,” he admits, looking over his shoulder to the bedroom. “His family was—absent. Neglectful. They were barely at home, and from what I’ve gathered it’s been like that since he was around four. He mentioned having a sister once, but I’m not even sure he remembers her name. He—was just always alone.”

“Until he found you.”

“Hey, excuse me, I found him,” Yamada corrects him with a small smile and he reaches out to ruffle Hitoshi’s hair. “But yeah. He hasn’t talked to his family in almost twenty years now I think and he pretends that he doesn’t care, but we know him better than that, right?”

“We do,” Hitoshi nods and stands up. “Which is why we can’t let him be alone right now,” he decides and starts to march off towards the bedroom, only to be halted by a hand on his wrist.

“Kiddo—”

“I get my overthinking from him,” Hitoshi plainly says. “If we leave him alone with his thoughts for too long it’s going to be bad.”

He speaks from experience on this, because Hitoshi overthinks like it’s his goddamn job and he knows Aizawa is prone to do the same, even though he pretends he isn’t.

Yamada must realise that he’s right because he nods once, letting go of Hitoshi’s hand and then following him silently to the bedroom.

Hitoshi doesn’t dare to hesitate because if he does then he will start to overthink this, so instead he only pushes in. Aizawa is seated at the edge of the bed, slumped over, hair hanging in front of his face, the picture of misery and Hitoshi doesn’t think, he just acts.

He sits down right next to Aizawa, leaning heavily into his side, impatiently patting the bed when Yamada lingers in the doorway for a moment too long.

It’s only when Yamada is seated as well, that Hitoshi speaks.

“As far as I’m concerned, this is a downgrade,” Hitoshi states and he can just make out the faint “Oh, brother,” from Yamada.

He clearly spends too much time around Class 1A, if that is his go to curse, Hitoshi thinks but then pushes straight on.

“Let’s look at it like this, okay? Our families—” he does not stumble over that, he does not “—managed to screw all three of us over. Our two families managed to let all three of us down at one point, they abandoned all of us, and I for one, do not want them in my life. I know Yamada doesn’t either, because he could have looked for his birth parents and never did and clearly you don’t want your family anywhere near your life as well. Right or wrong?” Hitoshi demands and Aizawa lets out a harsh breath.

“Right,” he eventually mutters and Hitoshi nods because this is about what he expected.

“Okay. So, look. Just a few days ago you joked that the universe literally made me to be your son. It’s just—it’s all just a little to the left, right?” he tries because it kind of is.

He wasn’t made to be their son, he was made to be their nephew, which explains all the strange similarities but ultimately doesn’t matter.

Because fuck the universe, Hitoshi thinks and takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what he’s going to say next.

“And like I said, I think it’s a downgrade, anyway,” he repeats, before he reaches out for Aizawa’s hand and then Yamada’s. “Because you’re my dads. It doesn’t matter what that stupid paper says. I don’t care if you’re my uncles, because you’re not. You’re my dads.”

It’s the first time he calls them that out loud and it’s less terrifying than he would have expected it to be. It mostly just feels right.

Hitoshi is not surprised to hear a sob from his right, because of course Yamada would cry at that, but he was not at all prepared for the same sound to come from Aizawa.

Hitoshi has just enough time to send a panicked look at Yamada before Aizawa pulls him in for a rough hug, cradling his head close.

“You’re the best son I could wish for,” Aizawa breathes out and it makes Hitoshi’s eyes burn as he clutches at Aizawa’s shirt.

Yamada drapes himself over Hitoshi’s back, breathing just as unsteadily as Hitoshi and Aizawa, and even though Hitoshi’s eyes burn, he still thinks this is a pretty good moment.

“These letters do not go up on the fridge, I don’t want them there,” Hitoshi decides after a long moment and Yamada laughs wetly.

“Okay, kiddo,” he agrees and Aizawa hums.

“The adoption papers, though—”

“Those definitely go up!” Hitoshi is quick to agree and Aizawa hugs him closer for a moment before he moves away.

“Thanks, kid,” he mutters, his voice a little bit scratchy and Hitoshi gives him a little grin.

“I got my overthinking abilities from you, I know how to deal with his,” he admits and it makes Aizawa huff out a laugh.

“Clearly,” he says as he ruffles Hitoshi’s hair, much like Yamada did earlier and Hitoshi leans into it.

He knows that they will need to talk about this some more, and in all honesty it doesn’t yet feel quite real to Hitoshi that these two are related to him, but all of that doesn’t matter.

What matters is that he has his dads here with him and Hitoshi knows that that is never going to change.

[munson-blurbs]

So sick and tired of a cheating Eddie fic, how about an Eddie x reader fic where chrissy cheats on him with the asshole Jason because Jason put her up to it. Eddie is heart broken and since that was his first crush and love he was severely humiliated and depressed but reader comes up and not only loves him but fucks the shit outa him, literally he gives nothing he just receives tonight. Basically Dom Eddie but tonight he's sub

(please add him wimpering sjgssjjh)

Wanted

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), dom!fem!Reader, sub!Eddie, lil bit of fluff?

WC: 2.1k

--

“Hi.”

The sound of your best friend’s voice startles you. You lean over the side of your bed and turn down your stereo, Stevie Nicks’s contralto quickly fading out. “Hey–hey, what’s going on?” Your tone quickly shifts from excitement to concern as you take in his tear-streaked face and bloodshot eyes. Your gaze lands on the bouquet of roses clenched in his hand, and your heart sinks. “Did something happen with Chrissy? Did she stand you—”

“It was a dare.” Eddie cuts you off bitingly, letting the flowers fall to his side. “It was all a fucking dare. Jason put her up to it, and when I got to her place tonight, they were making out on his couch.” He blinks back tears, though he could swear that he’s cried enough tonight to dehydrate. “S’my own stupid fault; thinking that anyone actually wanted to be with the Freak.”

Your stomach lurches at the way he spits out the words The Freak. It’s a bitter taste in his mouth and he doesn’t try to hide it like he does when he’s around the guys. “I get it,” you say softly, reaching out and taking his hand to lead him inside.

He shakes his head, frizzy curls brushing against his cheeks. “No, you don’t,” he protests. “You’re pretty–like, really fuckin’ pretty–and smart and funny–” He stops mid-sentence, cocking his head to look at you. “Wait, are you only nice to me because of a dare, too?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the suggestion of such an act. “Yes, Eddie,” you deadpan, “I’ve been your friend for the last ten years because of a dare. Phew, it feels so good to get that off of my chest!”

Eddie playfully shoves you, a reluctant chuckle escaping his lips. “All right, fair enough.” He tosses the bouquet onto the coffee table, where they land with a defeated thud. His eyes roam your body, taking in the way your shorts hug the curve of your ass, and he feels the familiar twitch in his boxers. “You really are beautiful, though. Don’t bullshit me about knowing what this feels like.”

“But I do,” you insist, plopping on the sofa and tucking your legs underneath you. “I know what it feels like to want someone so badly, but they’ll never feel the same way.” And in a moment of raw vulnerability–or perhaps stupidity, you’re still unsure–you ramble on. “Like when they’re only into perky cheerleaders and wouldn’t take a second look at me.”

“Oh–oh,” Eddie says, thinking he understands exactly what you mean. “But neanderthals like Carver–they’re not worth your time. You deserve someone who actually cares about you, y’know?”

“S’not Jason,” you mumble, ducking your head to try and hide the bashfulness that inevitably takes over your face. You can still see his puzzled expression, so you relent. “It’s you, Eddie. I’ve had the biggest crush on you forever, but I know you like Chrissy, so I’ve kept it to myself. I’m not asking you to like me back, but you…you need to know that you’re wanted. You’re so wanted. And when you find the right girl, you’ll both want each other just as much.”

Eddie stands there, utterly dumbfounded. “Y-You have a crush…on me?” He spins a ring around his finger. “Shit, I had no idea.”

“Good,” you reply with a nervous giggle. “I didn’t want you to know. I never wanted to ruin our friendship like…like I’m doing right now.”

“You’re not,” he murmurs, taking a quiet step towards you. “I’ve spent all this time trying to find someone who cares about me, who makes me feel good about myself, and who is damn gorgeous…and here she is.” 

You let your gaze meet his. “Here I am.” Your hand rests on his denim-clad bicep. “And if you’d let me, I’d like to show you how wanted you are.”

“Oh, hell yes.” His lips crash against yours with a hungry kiss as you press him up against the wall. His knee nudges between your thighs as he hooks his forefinger into your belt loop, drawing you even closer to him. You tangle your tongue with his, tasting the tobacco of his last cigarette as you deepen the embrace. Your hands busy themselves with his handcuff belt; as soon as you unlatch the intertwining metal, you drop to your knees in front of him.

Tugging his pants down to his lower thighs, you palm the outline of his burgeoning erection through his boxers. “So big, Eds,” you muse, planting soft kisses along his pelvis. “How’m I gonna fit all of you in my mouth?” You toy with the elastic waistband, snapping it against his skin. His legs tremble at your touch, so much so that you worry his knees might buckle completely and he’ll land on top of you. Which, ordinarily, wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

But tonight, you want to be on top.

You pull his cock out, the tip drooling pre-cum. “Such a pretty cock. Anyone ever tell you how pretty it is?”

Eddie shakes his head, the only thought in his brain centering on the way your fingers wrap around him. “N-No, never,” he stammers. 

You lick a line up the center of his shaft, watching as it twitches involuntarily. “Tell me,” you start, “who broke your heart tonight?”

“What?” The question clearly catches him off-guard. 

“Do I have to repeat myself?” You heave an impatient sigh. “What’s the name of the girl who broke your heart tonight?”

It seems bizarre to say it while you’re on your knees in front of him ready to give him head, but Eddie obliges. “Chrissy.”

“Okay.” You nod, considering his response. “So here’s how this is gonna work. I’m gonna suck you off until you forget her stupid little name. And once that happens, I’ll let you cum. S’that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Eddie swallows thickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” You swirl your tongue around the fleshy head, using your hand to pump him. He’s growing even harder inside your mouth; the moans escaping him are pornographic. 

“Right there, don’t stop”

“Feels s’fucking good”

“Mmm, yes, FUCK YES, need this—need you”

It’s his last cry out that makes you pull away; too much of a demand for your liking: “Faster, go faster.”

You release him with a wet pop, his dick smacking harshly against his stomach. He whimpers at the loss of contact. “Am I doing something wrong? My blowjobs not good enough?” you ask, batting your eyelashes as you feign innocence. 

“N-No, you’re ‘mazing,” he slurs helplessly, already drunk on your mouth alone. 

You steady yourself, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance. “Then why are you telling me what to do?”

“‘M sorry,” he whines, and you relent, taking him between your lips teasingly. One hand resumes working his shaft, while the other cups his heavy balls.

You hollow your cheeks, slowly allowing more of him into your mouth. The salty tang of his pre-cum starts coating your tongue, and you collect it with a content sigh. You can feel the thick vein that runs along his length, and you use it as a roadmap for where to lick and kiss. 

Eddie’s clenched fist slams against the wall, rattling the clock hanging on it. He’s so close.

“What’s her name?” 

Your voice startles him out of the fantasy world he’s concocting in his head, one where he’s bending you over the counter and fucking into you at a rapid pace. “What? Oh, um, I dunno.”

His blatant lie earns him another roll of your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me just so I’ll let you cum. Good boys tell the truth. You still remember it, don’t you?”

Eddie begins protesting, but stops as soon as he realizes that his efforts are futile. “‘S Chrissy,” he mumbles.

“Okay then.” You spit directly onto his tip, watching the saliva trail down to the unruly thatch of curls at the base. “We’ll keep trying then.” You’ll have to pull out all the stops to get him where you want him. You open your throat, allowing him as far back as possible before your gag reflex kicks in. 

This time, he’s the one who pulls away. “‘M sorry–”

“Don’t be,” you wave off his concern. “I can take it. Besides, you like when I choke on your dick, dontcha?”

“Mhm,” he agrees, with a small nod. “I fucking l-uhhhhh-fucking shit-love it.” He puffs out a long, strong exhale when you start sucking him off again, and you smile knowing that you’re the reason he’s coming undone. He bucks his hips ever-so-slightly, and you seize the opportunity to test him again.

“What’s her name?” you press him, sinking your teeth into the plush of his exposed thigh with a little nip.

“Don’t fucking know and don’t fucking care.” Eddie’s voice is low and raspy; this time, you believe that he’s telling the truth. “Just want you–only you.”

“Hmm.” You pretend to ponder this for a moment, standing up so you can kiss the side of his pretty neck. “Want isn’t strong enough, Eds. Y’gotta need me.”

“Fuck, I need you. Need you so bad; need t’be inside you. Need you to make me feel good. Feel wanted.” He’s panting, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can catch them. “Please, pleasepleaseplease, ‘m begging you, baby.”

You chuckle at how pathetic he sounds as his tough guy, Dungeon Master exterior fully crumbles. “Take off your pants and sit on the couch.” Pausing for a second, you add, “shirt, too. Want to see all of my good boy.”

“Yes ma’am.” He kicks off his pants and boxers as he stumbles to the sofa, yanking his faded Dio tee over his head and carelessly tossing it to the floor. He starts to reach out to undo the button on your jeans, but you slap his hand away.

“Did I say you could touch?” When he shakes his head woefully, you grab his chin to jerk his head upwards, looking him directly in the eyes. “Use your words.”

“N-No. No, ma’am,” he quickly amends. “‘M sorry, y’just look so good.” 

You don’t dignify that with a response, simply adding your pants to his pile of clothes before straddling his waist. “You can feel how wet I am, if you want.” You smirk at the last part of the sentence. Of course he wants. One timid ringed finger slides along the soaked cotton of your panties, and he shivers beneath you. “S’all for you, Eddie. My pussy wants you.” You slide them off, grabbing his throbbing cock with your hand as you align yourself. He stretches you when you sink down onto him, more than you’d anticipated, and now it’s your turn to moan. “Fill me up perfectly, Eds. Can’t believe I waited this long to have you inside me.”

Using his chest for leverage, you bounce up and down on his dick, feeling every last ridge against your walls. All he can manage is a string of swear words, practically incoherent while you ride him. He’s buried to the hilt, and you’ve never had anyone this deep before. You’re debating whether or not to tell him this when he murmurs, “‘M gonna cum–shit–can’t hold back. Where–fuck–where d’you want it?”

“Inside,” you say hurriedly, quickening your pace. “Been so good f’me, Eddie, and good boys get to cum inside.” His large hands grip your hips as he spills into you, the two of you finishing in tandem. You clench around him, milking every last bit of his seed. 

He stays inside of you, making no effort to move, but he brings his hands to your cheeks and pulls you in for a long kiss. “Thank you,” he says softly, nose bumping against yours. “For making me feel wanted and for, um, making me realize I’m into whatever that was.” He’s blushing, a deep crimson, and you realize that he’s never been dominated before. He shifts suddenly, creasing his brow. “Does this make us–”

You silence him with a kiss. “That’s tomorrow’s problem,” you shrug casually, like you didn’t just fuck the shit out of your long-time crush. “For now, let’s get cleaned up and get something to eat.”

Eddie nods. “Ice cream? My treat.” He squeezes your waist, and the touch has you biting your lip with want.

“Better be.” You nip at his earlobe playfully. “Good boys always buy ice cream after sex.”

--

[akaikali]

TMAGP EP 16 REACTION (SPOILERS)

CELIA HOLDING ALICE HOLY SHIT MAN THE SAMALICELIA POLYCULE IS GOING SOMEWHERE I also think this might be Celia's instinct to comfort from being a mother maybe??? BUT ALICELIA FEELS. My God their ship name could be a palindrome. Insane.

DEAR LORD DID ALICE SEE HER PARENTS DIE???? MY POOR GIRL.

Tape recorder is gone??? And yeah I suspected that the woman had been dead the whole time. Something was using her as a mouth piece, maybe something relates to ep 11 with the deep??

I think Celia and Sam saying they believe Alice is gonna bring them closer. I know people are sus of Celia so it could be a ploy to get closer to the OIAR employees, but I don't know, with her disliking Lady Mowbray, I'm more inclined to trust her.

The fact that Alice says "paid my horror dues" makes me think she knows more about said horrors and is working at the OIAR specifically to avoid it. Were her parents killed by The Horror?

"I think there's plenty of it go around at the moment" Yeah she's talking about Lady Mowbray. Seriously, I have respect for Celia, she really stood her ground last episode.

Man the fact that we were like "omg what if Alice's phone call ends up being a statement!!" In a serious way meanwhile Alice is like "yeah no Freddie will probably spit out in a few days so nothing to be concerned about". What if. Tho. Gwen ends up hearing the phone call. That would be interesting. Speaking of, where is our corporate girlfailure.

Sam you awkward little bean I love you. I'm sure Celia and Alice just gave him the fondest, "You're such a dumbass" look.

SOCIAL MEDIA INFLUENCER TIME????

OH NO. OH NO FUCK AM I GOING TO FALL IN LOVE WITH INK5OUL. THEIR VOICE.

I'm sorry I now understand what Alex meant when he said this episode was social-cringe-horror. The misuse of AAVE is actually so accurate please help my I'm on the floor screaming this should not be this funny-

Damn so does Ink5oul tattoo....pain or something? I don't have a tattoo myself (yet. I'm gonna get one. As soon as I stop being squeamish about needles. Oh. Needles.) But I don't think they're meant to hurt THAT much???

...I genuinely SHOULD NOT like Ink5oul this much. Please. You cannot do this to me I cannot have a Michael Part 2.

OH MY GOD ITS A YOUTUBER DRAMA VIDEO IM GOING TO FUCKING DIE I CANNOT BE LAUGHING THIS HARD.

I'm sorry THE SITUATIONSHIP FUCKING SENT ME YOU'RE TELLING ME INK5OUL IS IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH A GOTH GIRL INFLUENCER PLEASE RUSTY QUILL I NEED TO BE SERIOUS I CANNOT DO THIS.

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD I CANNOT DO THIS I HAVE PAUSED 7 TIMES NOW JUST BECAUSE I WAS LAUGHING TOO HARD TO KEEP HEARING. INK5OUL IS HOT AND A GOTH CONFIRMED.

Shut up. SHUT UP. NOT FUCKING DIG. ARE YOU SERIOUS. NO WAY.

Also let me add all the video sound effects are taking me out I LITERALLY cannot do this PLEASE-

OH MY GOD. WAIT. IS THIS WHEN INK5OUL WAS LOOKING FOR THE BODY WITH THE TATTOO FROM EP 11. HOLY SHIT.

"Hell no i ain't gonna call it in" girl by making the video you are basically calling it in what the fuck

THE YOUTUBER DRAMA IS TAKING ME OUT PLEASE THIS IS SOME NICOCADO AVODACO VS STEPHANIE SOO TYPE SHIT (Stephanie Soo all the way honeyyyy).

So...Does Ink5oul have the ability to make people feel pain through the tattoos they do? It's seeming like that's the case.

"The views are cutting me" HUH???? THATS. LIKE. THE EDGES ARE CUTTING ME??? WHAT IS HAPPENING??? HELLO?????

IS SHE DYING. THATS HORRIBLE RN WHAT THE FUCK ALICE LITERALLY JUST SAW SOMEONE DIE NOW SHE HAS TO HEAR SOMEONE ELSE DIE????

Okay wait now that Sam has let go of his "be professional" bullshit I'm back on his track SAMALICELIA LETS GOOO

THERE SHE IS THE CORPORATE GIRLFAILURE

Ohhhh Lena. Oh boy. I can understand her tbh, Gwen has no idea what's happening and she's just doing her own thing. Whether she's evil or not, Lena still knows better what's going on and can avoid unnecessary risks. Especially since Lena does seem to care if other employees get hurt.

I SEE HOW IT IS GWEN. SO YOU'LL BE HORRIFIED BY MR. BONZO BUT NOT OF THE CANNIBALISTIC HUNTING WOMAN BECAUSE SHES A LADY OF THE ARISTOCRACY. CLASSISM AT ITS FINEST. I HATE MR. BONZO BUT AT LEAST HES A WORKING CLASS...CLOWN MONSTER THING.

Okay so the Externals are like. A Thing here. Kind of like avatars? I'm not saying in the sense of fears, I mean they're beings that are not human anymore and possibly dangerous.

Wait but I understand Gwen though "You can't take this away just because I did something you never bothered to tell me not to do" this happens to me so much Gwen my babygirl you are So Autistic.

I saw someone say that Gwen needs to be dommed. I cannot say I disagree, especially when Lena tells her to sit down. Anyway we're gonna move away from that thought.

I am not joking. I paused a total of 17 times throughout this episode because I started laughing too hard. I think I have a new favorite episode.

[paradoxolotl]

OH PARA MY DARLING!!! :))))

For the writer ask can I beg to see a snippet of Neil being banned from another coffee shop (Andrew's maybe 👀) or what led to him being banned from half the coffee shops?? (From Sugar, Spice, and Corporate Espionage)

My beloved PAS ♥️

Unusual Asks for Sugar, Spice, and Corporate Espionage

~

“Sir.”

Neil took a slow sip of his coffee. Only his third cup of the day. Or hour. He couldn’t remember anymore. The beauty of a deadline he had pretended to prepare for rearing it’s ten hours until due highlight covered head? Kevin’s “inhuman level of coffee consumption” ban was lifted.

Not that Neil followed it all that closely anyways. What did Kevin know.

“Sir.”

He flicked his eyes up and to the left, hand still blindly typing away at his keyboard. He had a word count to hit after all. The familiar death glare of a service employee not paid enough to give a proper fuck but forced to anyways waited for him. Usually, Neil continued silence turned most people away, or at least made them uncomfortable enough to spit out whatever they decided was worth interrupting him over. But this one only glowered harder, jaw setting.

“Ma’am.” It turned up at the end like a question, but Neil’s voice held too much faux pleasantry to be recognized as such.

Nostrils flared on her inhale. “Sir-” and honestly the amount of complete disdain and over your bullshit she packed into that single word even impressed him- “you need to leave. Now.”

Oh boy, this was almost worth pausing an essay for. Neil finished his sentence. “I’m actually pretty busy at the moment,” he said, turning back to his work. Was a Freudian mention too much? He tapped the space key twice, not quite hard enough to move his cursor. Probably not.

“Sir.”

“Jesus,” Neil muttered. He needed more coffee. Matching her glare with one of his own, Neil shook his cup, the pitiful remains just enough to splash against the sides. “I’m a paying customer. You can’t just kick me out for no reason.”

“You taped crime scene photos to our windows!” she snapped. And well. Okay yes, that was true. He didn’t need to spare a glance to see the expanse of carnage he had set up.

“It’s for research,” he said.

She jabbed a finger at the cup in his hand. “And that isn’t even from here.”

Neil glanced down. The cup sported the bright orange colours of Fox & Nip Cafe. He looked up to the hat the employee was wearing. It was purple, with The Drip stitched in white across the front. Slowly, he raised the cup to his mouth, tipping the last of it into his mouth.

“I’ve told you guys before. I don’t see what the problem is,” he said. “Your coffee is shit. You know that right? I could order a triple shot and it wouldn’t even hit me. It’s an art, how you’ve taken something so easy and weakened it to the point of threatening extinction.”

Turning in his chair, Neil pointed to the man not even pretending not to be watching. “Your coffee is shit!” he said, making the man jump. He turned back to the employee. “This is literally the worst coffee is town. You have two things going for you: the tables are big enough to work at and your muffins aren’t sweet like fucking cakes. If I have to provide my own passable coffee, I should be allowed to use the space provided to finish my work.”

If looks could kill. “Get the fuck out,” she said.

Neil had three rules he lived by. Number two: when a retail employee drops the word fuck as a promised threat, it’s time to go.

Tossing her a quick salute, Neil shoved his laptop back into his bag and left everything else behind. He didn’t really need the photos anyways.

Two blocks down, he pulled out a small notebook from a side pocket. With a sigh, he crossed out The Drip from his list.

[cockslutpadalecki]

It’s Chemicals That Make Me Cling To You

Summary: It’s clear how you both feel about each other, but you’re both too stubborn— too afraid to voice what you fear most.

Characters: Joel Miller x F!Reader.

Words: 1.4K.

Warnings: heavy angst, smut with feelings, age gap relationship, vaginal sex, a dash of daddy kink, multiple orgasms, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: This was meant to be filth, but the angst gods weren’t happy. Beta: @princessmisery666​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

Joel hasn’t spoken to you in days. Literal days. And that’s not even by your standards of over-exaggeration. 

At first you don’t care— thankful for a moment of peace from his berating voice. And on the surface, you keep up appearances— not wanting to show him you hate the silence. Hate the way he still manages to chide you with just a look.

Once dawn breaks on day three, you’ve had enough.

One tiny stupid decision leads to another. And then one more, the snowball effect apparent as Joel finds you holed up in the basement of the hotel, infected dead scattered at your feet.

You beg for the silence back when he opens his mouth. 

How could you be so stupid?

Think you can handle surviving on your own? 

You almost got yourself bit.

He kicks a body out of his way as you snip back, “Well, I didn’t,” like a fucking child. 

“And if you had? What would you have done?” Joel asks, retreating to re-hoister his gun.  

“Spare me the fuckin’ lecture,” you mutter under your breath.

He closes the gap between you, lips tight in a scowl. He smells like dirt, sweat, a hint of something sweet beneath the surface. It’s perfectly Joel. “You wanna repeat that?”

“Nah, I’m good.” You give a little shrug, watching his eyes spark with ire. 

He reaches up, grabbing the collar of your jacket and tugs you towards him. “I just saved your damn life, you ungrateful little shit,” he spits, his breath hot on your cheek, “and you’re not even gonna thank me?” 

“Thank you, but I was handling it just fine.” 

“Oh, handling it, huh?” Joel smiles sarcastically, the dimple in his cheek deepening beneath stray salt and pepper hairs. “Guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” he adds, signalling over his shoulder with his head at the deceased surrounding you, “y’know, seeing as you’ve got everything under control.” 

His grip loosens from your jacket, stepping back. The dissipating heat from his body leaves you cold. Needy.

“Don’t,” you rush out as he reaches down for his discarded backpack.

Joel straightens at the sound, eyes narrow. “Don’t, what?” 

He wants the affirmation that you need him as much as he does you. Even if he won’t admit it. Stolen, heated trysts in the dark are your wordless compromise. You don’t declare your feelings, and in return, he’ll give you intimacy. You try to fool yourself, it's merely physical, but the longing is there. Sitting deep in your chest like a wound— the scar on the surface long gone, but you can still feel the ache every time you move.

The space closes again as he drags himself towards you, boots scraping across the debris-strewn floor. His warmth returns, bringing with it a familiar stir of heat to your gut.

“Don’t,” you let the word linger on your tongue, feeding Joel’s anticipation before snatching it away, “forget your knife.” 

Tongue caught between his teeth, he laughs, unamused. You wait, hoping he’ll crumble but your anticipation is snatched from you as he bends over, scooping up the weapon at his feet.

His bag follows, swung onto his shoulder in one fluid motion before he’s turning away from you and heads toward the door. 

Rejection burns hot in your veins as you stare at the back of his head, watching his form retreat the further he moves away. What do you have to do to get him to open up to you? Die? 

Swallowing thickly, you battle internally with yourself before rushing after him. You manage to catch up, running in front of him but Joel keeps walking, forcing you to scuttle backwards in tiny, awkward steps. 

“Don’t,” you breathe out, “go.” 

“But you can handle it yourself,” he shrugs. “You don’t need me.” 

“I do,” you protest and Joel stops in his tracks, staring down at you, his dark eyes searching. “I need you.” 

“No, you don’t.” He starts striding forward again, past you, but you quickly block his path. This time you skip the begging and pleading, hurrying onto your tiptoes to press your lips to his. 

“I need you,” you repeat, this time your voice oozing with more than just desperation. He stares forward, unbothered. 

It bothers you. 

“Joel,” you hum. Cupping his jaw with your hands, fingers smooth through black and gray as you encourage him to look down at you. His eyes are still dark when they flicker in your direction, but they no longer feel cold— devoid of emotion.

You whisper his name once or twice more, but it does nothing to stir warmth into his features. 

Eventually you purr, “Daddy, please,” and pepper his mouth with dozens of tiny kisses. You let the last deepen, nipping his bottom lip with the edges of your teeth. 

Feeling his breath rattle and catch in his throat, hubris swells inside you, proud that you’ve chipped away at part of his resolve. You slide a hand down his chest, over the belt at his waist, and pause for a beat. 

It’s too long to wait. Joel reacts before you can grab his cock, and wraps his fingers tightly around your wrist. 

Joel smashes his lips against yours— hot, wet, starved kisses that make you breathless. Hurried steps force you backwards until you collide with the wall, while hurried fingers flick open the button on your jeans, giving him the opportunity to slide his hand beneath the fabric.

Stomach twisting with dirty arousal, your eyes flutter, unable to focus. You melt into his touch like candle wax, dripping onto his fingers as they slip through your silken heat. 

He needs no instruction— the intricate details of your body are etched into his brain like a mind map because despite your taunt, Joel has you unraveling like a spool of thread against his palm within minutes. 

Your scream bubbles in the back of your throat, but before it can pierce the quiet air, his spare hand clamps hurriedly over your mouth.

“Ssh.” He kisses hot to your lips when he removes his hand. “You know better.”

You groan inwardly, body still pulsing as Joel strips off your jeans, tugging them roughly down your thighs. Dirty denim hangs limply from your sneaker when he picks you up, your legs curling around his waist. 

He’s inside you within the time it takes for you to inhale, the first drive of his cock stealing your breath.

Joel fucks you in silence. Unsaid words hang in the air. Heated praise and affection get lost, buried beneath closed lips. Too afraid to voice them. Slaps of wet pierce through the quiet, shattering the absence of sound as he pulls you back and forth along his cock.

It hurts, but not in the physical sense. A deep ache sets in beneath your ribs. The kind that won’t go away with pills or alcohol, but the sort of dull throb that intensifies the longer time ticks by.  

He buries his face into the slant of your neck, damp-heavy kisses dance over your skin— painfully delicate in comparison to the way he fucks you in needy haste. You try to speak, muttering his name, but his hand moves to cover your mouth again. 

“Silent,” is all he husks into your ear, his thrusts slow and deep. How he expects you to be quiet while he’s inside you— like this— it’s impossible. 

It makes you wonder if he’s afraid that you’ll let something spill from your lips that you shouldn’t. Something that will infect you both, changing the dynamic forever. Something you can’t take back, a death sentence. But there’s already the unspoken that lingers between you, hiding in plain sight. 

Instead, you swallow down your moans, letting them stack up in your chest like dominoes until you come again, and they tumble from your lips— muted, but no less frantic. 

When Joel pulls back to look at you, he doesn’t verbalise what he’s thinking— he barely ever does— but you can hear it in the way he takes you in. 

Idiot, I almost lost you.

Breath sticky hot, his lips graze yours with intent. “Make another sound and I’ll shove my cock down your throat.” 

Eh. Close enough. 

You nod slow. Understanding. 

“Good girl,” he mouths before burying his face back into the crease of your neck. Tears gather while you cling to him as he comes, his teeth sharp against your skin in an attempt to silence his own moans.

Maybe he doesn’t see it, but you suspect he does. You’re already infected, and just like there’s no cure for the parasite ripping apart mankind, there’s no cure for loving Joel.

***

4EVS: @amirra88​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​ @cheesyclaire​ @chibijusstuff​ @callsignrambam​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @daughterofthenight117​ @doozywoozy​ @foxyjwls007​ @geekofmanyforms​ @heyyouwiththeassbutt​ @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets​ @ilovefanfic86​ @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @labella420​ @mogaruke​ @maliburenee​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nik2writes​ @obsessivelycapricious​ @patrick-hockslutter​ @princessmisery666​ @phildunphyisadilf​ @sage-writing​ @sea040561​ @sweeterthanthis​ @slutformarvelmen​ @smokeandnailz​ @stoneyggirl​ @stoneyggirl2​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @thegirlnextdoorssister​ @unfortunate-brat​ @wayward-dreamer​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​

[butmakeitgayblog]

ADHD here, please tell me, teach me, write instruction to how brush and floss your teeth three times a day.

Please.

Do you set alarm clocks? Do you have apps that reminds you? T_T

And no, wisdom teeth ARE NOT easy.

I gotchu

👇👇👇👇

Nope no apps or alarms. It's all less about a schedule, and more just working it into your eating routine. Making flossing and brushing part of your eating process is the easiest way rather than just relying on memory or "oop it's 1pm, gotta brush!" when you may not even eat lunch until 2, you get me?

Here's my process:

1. Brush before you eat breakfast. If you feel a bit nauseous in the mornings, try and sip some water to settle it down, but whatever you do, do not eat or drink anything other than water before your first brush. Why?

Eating softens the enamel! Acidic drinks (coffee, juice, etc) softens the enamel! If you eat/drink and then brush, you are quite literally brushing away your teefie's lil coat of armor!

2. Brush yo damn tongue. I know it sucks. I know you'll gag. It's hell. Do it anyway. I'm suffering with you ✊

3. Don't just go crazy everywhere in there. If you're zigzagging around your mouth like it's Mario kart, you're missing spots. I brush in sections to guarentee coverage. Top right molars - front, bottom, back, back edge. Bottom right molars - front, top, back, back edge. Etc. In total, six sections each brushed exactly the same.

I'm fully aware written down it sounds OCD levels of bullshit, but I promise, it's the same 2-3 minutes spent brushing as usual, just organized and effective rather than pure chaos and a prayer of plaque removal 🥴

Also, don't brush too hard. If your bristles are bent and smooshed, ease up my god you're brushing away the enamel by force 😳

4. After you brush and spit - Do. Not. Rinse.

Don't.

Put the water down.

If at most you have to refresh the tongue from feeling weirdly coated, take a tiny sip of water and gurgle only on the back of the tongue and spit.

I say this because the longer the toothpaste stays on your teeth, the better. You want that flouride and whatnot doing its thing on your enamel and gum line as long as possible, so give it as much time as you can and let your mouth naturally clean it out. It will.

5. Floss after every meal. Every one. It will become a habit and you'll start to hate the feeling of not flossing after. Floss after snacks!!! If it's solid food, floss. Period. Flossers can and will become your best friend because they are so convenient. I love them, I just keep a few in the zipper part of my wallet and whenever I'm out, I can (and do) floss on the go.

Side note, there is a right and wrong way to floss. So, be mindful of that.

6. Other than morning time, brush after meals when you can, HOWEVER!!!! WAIT AT LEAST 20 MINUTES (see part 1.) In those 20 minutes after you finish eating, drink water and thoroughly swish it around your mouth to help dilute the acid sitting on your teeth. Floss during this time as well to get the crud out from between your teeth so it's not just sitting there. If you're out in public or at a job where you can't brush after lunch, brush as soon as you get home. Literally take off your shoes, hang up your coat, kiss your pet (or spouse or... idk houseplant) hello, and then go brush.

8. After your final brushing of the day, eat or drink nothing else but water. Nothing.

Look at me

Nothing else ಠ_ಠ

If you do want to eat or drink again, gonna have to wait 20 min and brush again 🤷‍♀️

So you see, it's less about a schedule and more just working the act of brushing and flossing into your normal eating routine. Make the two synonymous. Make it part of your meal process. Eat. Floss. Rinse with water. Wait, then brush.

Important*****

For those who have days when they cannot mentally or physically make themselves brush, listen to me. I understand. It's ok. Believe me, I do know more than I ever say on here. But don't do nothing. If that is you, keep a small bottle of listerine next to your bed/chair so you can swish and spit. Buy a bag of flossers and keep those near you to at least floss. Buy those little one use brusher sticks/a clean rag and toothpaste and use those. If that's the best you can do, there's no shame in that. I promise your future self will be so, so grateful for these little things, because even a little is better than nothing. And in the end you deserve to have your mouth feel fresh, even when you yourself don't have the spoons to do much else.

[asksuccubussides]

What if you were an asexual succubus wouldn't that be fucked up or what Chapter 13

Masterpost of chapters

The first thing that stirred Remus' awake was the strong smell of tea that made his eyelids flutter half open and his mouth slide agape to mutter for Emile to go have breakfast somewhere else. Though in his tired state his words came out merely as nonsense.

"Good morning darling" He felt a warm hand touch against his cheek making him lean into the touch to which he heard the person chuckle softly.

He opened his eyes and saw Janus sitting on the bed beside him while reading a book and drinking a cup of tea. The air was flooded with a smell of eggs being cooked that gave him the urge to throw eggs at Roman.

"Are you feeling peckish for some breakfast? I've already had some. You totally don't snore like a hippo by the way" Janus snarked.

"Awwww J-Anus you made food just for lil gross meeee"

"Dear I appreciate that you still believe I can cook after the dinner we had last night but no, absolutely not, Vivsie made the breakfast"

Remus looked up to see the emo standing by the tiny kitchen area with an apron on and eyeliner from the night before smushed across his cheeks. The demon grabbed ahold of his human's pajamas to drag him closer so he could whisper "The virgin's gonna poisssssooooooooonnnnn mmmmmeeeeee"

"No, no dear. If anyone is going to poison you it would be me. Virgil would just spit in your tea"

"Yeah I'll spit in your tea motherfucker!" Virgil exclaimed.

"Jokes on you! I like spit!" Remus yelled back.

Janus closed his book and kissed his date on the cheek before getting out of bed "You two muppets can sort that out while I decide my outfit for the day. This will definitely go very quick and swiftly and I will be done before you even notice I am gone"

As the warmth from his human's body slowly disappeared Remus did grabby hands for him to come back. Instead Virgil sat down on the edge of the bed and handed him a plate of eggs and pasta left over from the day before. He didn't even get a fork.

Suddenly while eating Remus felt a smack to the back of his head "HEY!" He looked over to the emo while rubbing his head "YOU C-"

"I told you not to come here"

"Well where am I supposed to cum then!? ON THE FLOOR!?"

Virgil had a full body shiver "Don't say that shit man!"

Remus squinted at him before bonking his fist against the top of the emo's head. Virgil pulled in a handful of his messy hair making the demon nearly drop the plate on Janus' bed. Both of them stopped and put aside any food so as to not disturb their shared human\s pretty pristine sheets before going right back to wrestling.

"Alright, on a scale from beautiful to stunning, how do I look?" Janus asked as he walked back into the room.

In an instant the two men had pulled away from each other and did their best to look normal. Remus did a double thumbs up while Virgil pointed out that Janus would overheat in the sun if he wore that. Jan returned to the bathroom and the men returned to fighting each other.

"I bet you don't even know about J-Anus' super secret tattoo" Remus bullshitted just to see the reaction.

The emo's face went as red as a stop sign as he smacked the demon right on the nose. Janus came back in with a changed shirt and did a little spin to show his skirt flaring up.

"YOU GOT A TATTOO??? JANNIE! You promised if you did we would get it together!!" Virgil yelled.

Janus sent a look to Remus "Don't lie to my dear little friend. He's gullible"

The demon cackled as Janus walked up to him and ran his fingers through his poofy hair. Remus moved his arms around his human's waist and looked up at him with a bright smile. From the corner of his eye he could see Virgil literally twitch with rage.

"You look great" Remus said.

"Aw, Thank you dear"

"You're driving there right" Virgil butted in "Not taking the bus right? I mean uh I've heard parking is pretty good there"

"We are"

"And you're bringing some water too right? With being in the sun all day and you know how-"

"How bloody overpriced water is at public events" Janus finished his sentence "I know and I am bringing my fancy black wide ass hat as well"

An itch in Remus' legs was roaring for him to go. He got up from the bed and pulled his human along as Janus said goodbye to his roomate. A twinge between Virgil's eyebrows made it abundantly clear how anxious he was as he blared right at the demon.

The moment the couple left the apartment Janus let his finger move against his demon's choker "Did you sleep with that on darling?"

"Was I not supposed to?"

Janus smirked “Cheeky. Are you sure you're not underdressed?"

"I am perfectly underdressed thanks"

"No. No. I think I might have something that will truly liven it up" He said as he fished around in his bag before pulling out a matching neon green leash for his demon's choker.

"SO YOU DID BUY LEASH WITH!!" Remus lightly  dragged in one of Janus' dreads "Liar liar. Keeping secrets from me"

"I would neeever keep anything from you darling" Janus teased back as he helped attach the leash to the choker.

"Is this sex thing?"

"It doesn't have to be" Jan scratched him under the chin "You just have to be good boy"

Remus leaned into the touch "That I can do!"

--

They arrived well before any sort of parade would start because Janus had insisted on looking at the pride market in the park nearby. Remus looked for bugs between blades of grass while Janus sorted through every single book in the second hand book stand. The demon had tried to wait by him but after about 5 seconds he had gotten bored and started eating fistfulls of dirt.

Eventually Janus came dragging along an overfilled bag with books. He sat down beside his demon and looked at the caterpillar Remus had found before Jan showed him every book he'd bought.

"It was 3 for 2. A diva has to splurge every now and then don't you think" Janus handed him the bag "You're carrying this for the rest of the day by the way"

"Ah sick. One of my arms is going to turn beefy muscular!"

The sun beamed down from between the trees making tiny light streaks play against Remus' brown skin. It made his faded freckles become visible and when he was looking at a bug on the ground Janus surprised him with a kiss to the freckles on his shoulder.

There was a constant humm of noise as the crowds of people zig zagged between market stalls and picnic tables. It was the most color the demon had seen people wear in this drowsy country so far and ever so often he saw someone walk past with a similar choker or leash as him.

The park was laid in between shopping buildings and brown cobblestone houses with grey streets in between. The streets were already humming with people out and about but soon enough they would be filled to the brim.

Somewhere in the air Remus sensed the smell of an angel far away but it was quickly forgotten behind the scents of food stalls and the rubbery smell of balloons.

"How strange" There was a wrinkle between Janus' eyebrows as he checked his phone "Apparently there was a bus crash not too long ago"

The demon tried to look over his shoulder "Are there pics?"

"Rude and insensitive dear. It was good we the took the car innit"

"Just once I wanna be in traffic crash. Bucket list goal"

Janus gave him a judgy look before rolling his eyes and putting his phone away. Remus laid his head in his lap and began crushing bugs between his fingers.

He looked at his human peacefully sitting in the grass and he, unlike Janus, didn't notice any of the people casting quick glances to Janus as they passed them by. He didn't notice the kids pointing or the couple quietly whispering. He only noticed when Janus started to fix his outfit because he knew that meant he was getting ready to go.

Remus stood up and held out his hand to help his human up "Madam" He teased.

"Good boy" Jan murmured right back.

The demon didn't think of letting go of his hand. Both of them glanced down at their hands before Janus let his thumb caress up and down against Remus' skin to which Remus silently let their fingers intertwine as they started talking towards the rest of the market.

"I am not usually much for pride specific things, I prefer to show off my immense homosexuality via classic flamboyancy, but I think most of this is made by local artists which is important to support" Janus rambled to which Remus nodded along. "Do you want anything dear?"

"I am being sugar boyed now???"

"NO!....I am not rich nor am I a classy old lady...Yet. I simply have proper nice manners"

Remus squeezed his hand "Sure sure"

The demon let out a loud squeal as he suddenly pulled Janus by the hand past a line of people and up to a booth in the corner. His arm vibrated with excitement as he pointed at a series of stickers with snakes holding various pride flags. He looked to his human with a toothy grin that made Janus feel like his legs were made out of jelly.

"Snake!" He yelled, as if he had to clarify.

"Ah yes. I don't have eyes so I totally can't see that it's snakes"

Remus nodded before moving to look around the rest of the booth as if showing him the snake had been his one and only mission and now he could continue chilling while Janus chatted with the person selling. He could feel his hand being tugged around as Remus moved but he didn't mind.

Janus leant forward so the seller could hear him better "You don't happen to have any aromantic themed snake stickers?" He cast a glance to Remus "Demiromantic specifically please? Oh and a pride one"

The seller put the pins into a tiny plastic bag before handing it to Janus and he turned to his date so he could put the pins into the book bags. The demon had an unusually somber expression as he let his hand run against an asexual pride flag hanging from a nearby booth. Janus knew he could just squeeze his hand to get his attention but to be extra he tugged in the leash hanging down to the demon's hip.

At the pull Remus’ gaze flickered to meet Janus' and he straightened his back and pulled his shoulders back before shaking his head around to try and shake his thoughts away.

"Don't go and show your tallness now prettyboy" Janus joked while pulling on the leash in the same way one would pull at the rope to a clock. "What were you looking at?"

Remus noticeable thought of what to say before responding instead of simply spluttering out the first words he found "...I was just thinking of how nice humans is and their creations" He smiled so his gums showed but added in hastily "And with their blood and organs too of course. Love them organs"

"You should go to a church. You'd love the organs in there, though they might set you on fire" Jan snarked back "Oh gosh! Look! Someone's selling crocheted coasters! I need those!"

The human pulled him along through the crowd and Remus' feet tripped over themself and fumbled behind as he looked back to cast another glance at the purple flag still hanging there. He got the thought that it was mocking him.

--

"Ah yes. This was indeed as corporate as I had imagined it to be. Do you smell that? That is proper rainbow capitalism at work" Janus said as they stood by and watched the pride parade go by "And it is even whiter as well innit"

The human snickered to himself and Remus smiled at the way his nose scrunched up and the slight dimple that appeared on the unscarred side of his face.

"If everyone exploded into blood puddles it wouldn't be white anymore" Remus suggested, completely missing the point.

"Great idea darling" He checked his watch "Say, how about we go for an early dinner before exploring the nightlife? My spine is totally not beginning to spite the hell out of me for daring to move around"

Remus put on a serious expression and pointed to the nearest trash can "Dinner"

"Spoken like a man with a heart of poetry"

"Can i eat you?"

"....No...."

"Then you get choose dinner"

"Well thanks for deciding not to feast on me darling. I will take it as the deepest of compliments"

"No. No. See. The compliment is I wanna eat you!! I only wanna eat you and no one else ever.....Aside from that one guy but I only ate like his arm so it is fine- But now I only wanna eat you for forever!"

Janus squinted at him before letting up into a laugh as he decided to take it as a joke "Okay well I think we are going somewhere that doesn't serve human meat tonight"

The last parts of the parade went by as the couple walked down the street that was completely new to Remus but with the added crowd practically felt new to Janus as well. The human pointed out the different restaurants though he had to admit he hadn't actually been to many of them since Virgil got too anxious to go out to eat even if Jan always took on the burden of ordering.

Remus hadn't noticed it at first but when he looked down he saw that he and Janus were holding hands again. It felt so natural he wasn't even sure when they had started or who had reached out. He thought it was lucky that despite them being different species their hands had still been molded to so perfectly fit together.

"Which part of latin america are you from now again?" The human asked.

"Uhhhhhh" Remus could feel a single sweatdrop fall down his forehead "The south west part of the uh bottom"

"...Ah. So Chile then? Excuse me I am just Such an expert in geography"

"YeAh sure! Where all the cool hunk bulky men come from"

"Well I don't particularly know any Chilean restaurants nearby but I know some Caribbean ones, because as we all know Latin America and the Caribbean have the exact same cuisine. In some ways-"

Just as Janus had started a new train of thought the door opened to the Caribbean restaurant and the person coming out briefly held it open for the couple. It was a tiny place with the counter almost right by the entrance with the actual seating room being to the right. The menu was written up on the wall above the counter and as Janus read it he suddenly felt Remus move up to him from behind. His demon snaked his arms around his shoulders and leant his pointy chin against the top of Jan's head.

"Tell me if you need help translating anything dear"

"I will take whatever you take"

"A perfect opportunity to poison you I see. Did I not warn against that just this morning"

"Naah. You too coward and I am immune. I would just puke it out on your silly shoes"

"There is nothing silly about my shoes! Besides puking would leave you vulnerable so In that case I would simply stab you and have it done with"

The cashier had started to stare at them so Janus quickly jumped into action and ordered before finding an empty table near a corner while having to stop Remus from grabbing every salt shaker from the tables they passed. Jan took the chair closest to the wall so that he could people watch while the demon immediately started to play footsies under the table.

He moved his shoe against Jan's until it became a tug of war where they tried to move the other one's foot as far back as possible. At least Remus assumed in his mind that was the rules, until his human broke up into a chuckle.

"I used my fancy shoes dear" He laughed.

"Fancy shoes not gonna protect you from my strong hunk toes!"

Janus picked up his dining knife "Here darling I’ll show you a different game. You'll totally hate it" He motioned for Remus to lay out his hand "Palm against the table, and be still"

He whacked the knife between Remus' fingers while humming to himself. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his date bite  his lip to stop himself from happy flapping his hand around.

He finished and held the knife over to the demon "Now you try, on yourself of course. I wouldn't want my gloves to be ruined"

"You know me so well J-Anus!"

Remus immediately poked the knife right into his finger before wildly cackling at the feeling of it. He booped side to side while mimicking the knife motions Janus had done. When the waiter arrived with their food they just cast a weird look to the demon before serving.

They had both gotten a serving of jerk chicken with beans laid upon a bed of rice which the demon started to stab furiously at with his fork so that individual rice pieces stuck to the fork. He chucked them down his throat in the same way people threw popcorn into their mouth. Janus looked at him eating for a little bit before deciding to comment as he took off his gloves and laid them beside the plate.

"I am quite sure there are more efficient ways to consume that"

"Yeah but this has more fun. It's about the cHASE! The HUNT!"

"I see" Under the table Janus let his hand wander to Remus' bare knee "Aren't you just the most vicious hunter there ever was"

Remus' smile widened like jelly "I am"

Jan pinched the skin of his knee before moving his hand away to start eating but as they ate Remus kept stroking his leg against Janus' which made the human's cheeks blossom a soft pink.

"As I was saying before" Janus began with his hand covering his mouth to hide the last bits of chewing "I don’t believe I have mentioned it before but I am technically-"

His words were cut off as he burst into a cough attack just as the spiciness of the dish hit him. His face turned another few shades darker as he gulped down a glass of water and Remus fanned his napkin towards his face.

"Are ants crawling up from your stomach"

"Not helping dear" The coughing wavered out "This was genuinely delicious though" His eyes had watered a bit along with his nose running.

Remus leant forward and wiped a bit of snot away with his finger.

"If you lick your finger, my dear stupid muppet, I will throw you out of the window"

Out of pure dickery Remus jokingly stuck out his tongue towards his finger to which Janus grabbed the end of his leash from under the table and yanked it down so fast that his chin slammed into the table.

Remus cackled "That felt fun!"

"I knew you'd like it, you demented sod"

"What were you saying anyway?" The demon beat his hand against his chest "I listen, I care"

"Oh right- Yes. I am technically" He paused for a moment to think "..Third generation? Third generation Cuban immigrant, afro-caribbean obviously, but it's so totally not strange at all to know those facts about yourself while it isn't applicable in the slightest to your actual life. The majority of the workers and pseudo parental figures at the orphanage were white and therefore I am completely allianted from a culture I would have known if my parents had lived. And at the same time I am too black to ever fit into some white british culture. Fun! You're following?"

The little geography knowledge Remus had fired up as he exclaimed "We both would have been from Latin america!"

"Well I still wouldn't have been from there but I understand what you mean" He chuckled at his date's bright smile "I would love to learn Haitian Creole someday, Lots of people speak it in Cuban too. The etymology of creole languages are absolutely fascinating. They're in some ways very similar to Lingua francas but they often have existed for far longer" he let up into a dreamy sigh "Imagine the grammatical evolution"

'Rude. Daydreaming about learning other languages when you don't even know sign. C. U. N. T' Remus signed.

"I imagine that you just now signed that I am very handsome and smart for wanting to learn so many languages"

"I was actually showing how much knowledge I know of British words. Cunt!"

"You know the most important thing truly darling" Janus dabbed the napkin next to his mouth before continuing "Now that I have so eloquently and selflessly bared a tiny bit of my dark and rotted soul-"

"I not asked you to"

"-I've been meaning to ask you something"

Remus leaned back in his chair and pushed his empty plate away while letting out a puff of air "Uh huh?"

"I haven't brought it up before since I didn't want to be rude-"

"Since when you care if rude"

Janus didn't respond, only looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What? I like that about you! Love rude! R stands for uh Rad. U stands for You! D stands for Dick and E stands for Excrement"

"Maybe you never should have learnt english" Jan teased to which Remus laughed. "But really while I looove being a rude bitch I do believe that it's best to only be rude about the things people choice about themself and can feasibly change, bitching about someone's accent or cackle does no one good after all-"

"Are you about to say my cackle bad. If so just punch me like a true bitch so we can fight!"

"No. No. I've just" Janus twirled one of his dreadlocks around his finger "I have noticed that" He rolled the hair between two of his fingers as he searched for words "Your eyes are normally just soooo not at all expressive and emotionally obvious and beautiful but both times we" He leant a little closer across the table and lowered his voice "Both times we were close to intimate your eyes seemed so....different"

Remus didn't respond, instead he leant in just as close and started to play with one of Janus' dreads "And?"

"It wasn't at aaaaall as if you looked like someone had just dropped your ice cream right in front of your eyes both time- Or not even that- You just seemed- You looked a bit uhm...Dead...And- And I am very aware that your experiences with sex far outweigh mine and that most of my impressions of sex have been through media which obviously romanticizes it so please do tell me if that is just how your eyes happen to look and it doesn't say anything about your enjoyment. And I am also aware that you've worked with it and I suppose that my eyes get a bit dead when I'm working too but I didn't think we- That you were in work mode when we. Well you understand what I mean dear"

After nearly a minute of Remus silently looking down at the table he finally asked "Why do you care?"

"Well darling it's not as if there is a very famous saying that eyes are the window to the soul and looking dead might mean you're not enjoying something"

"Why you care if I'm not enjoying?"

"Because I am capable of basic human emotions like caring about others. Oh no actually it's because I'm a deadly succubus trying to suck the lust out of you" Janus muttered back to which Remus went a bit pale. "Wait! Darling! Did you just make it sound like you don't enjoy it? You said you did before, not that I'm mad about a little lying or changing of opinion"

"I'm...." Remus sunk his head into his hands as he felt his stomach churn from hunger to the point of nausea. It was like hot flashes going up his back right to the tips of his fingers, like he could feel his heartbeat ringing in his ears, like his horns were glowing such a dark red it made him dizzy.

His horns. It had been so long since he thought of his horns, or his tail for that matter. Living among humans for so long made it so easy to forget the parts he had to hide.

He felt Janus stroke he edge of his shoe against his ankle "Y'know...." Remus took a shaky breath "I once started a collection of human teeth I found on side of roads" He forced a smile "Isn't that funny"

Janus reached out his hands across the table and laid them atop of Remus' arm "That's not what the conversation was about honey-dear, and you know it"

"I once ate a man's arm"

"You can tell me if something is wrong. For you, I will actually listen"

Remus shook his human's hands away "I've been pissed on, thrown up on, thrown up, gotten razorbladed, choked and hit and knocked out during fuck! And that's the part I enjoyed the most of fucking! I can have sex easy! There is lots wrong with me but I can have sex all fine. I've had a lot. I can keep trucking and fucking"

"I was asking if you enjoyed it"

"Can't you finish eating so can we go light dumpsters on fire or something fun like that and not talk like this right now"

Janus looked him up and down before responding softly saying "...Okay. We can talk later"

He took a bite from the food and immediately started to cough again and within an instant the tension in the air had dispersed and Remus was back to laughing as he got his human some more water.

"How did you eat this without a single sound?!"

"I have eaten lots of weird shit. Like a man's arm"

"No cannibal jokes during dinner please"

"Maybe if you eat it all at once it won't be as bad"

Janus gulped the rest of it down before instantly regretting it as his eyes watered and nose ran "Why did I listen to you!?"

"I am much wise"

"You are as wise as this is sweet. This is just the mildest, most comforting non spicy thing I have ever eaten in my long luscious life" Janus continued to string out lies as he fanned himself.

--

Afterwards the two of them went to get ice cream for dessert. Janus had thought that they could share to make it a bit romantic but upon hearing the freakish mixture of flavors his date wanted to get he decided for them to get separate ice creams.

The conversation between them flowed like water. Remus told him about a niche genre of 70's exploitation horror films he'd gotten into which in turn Janus questioned the ethics of the work environment for the actors during that time since the 70’s were known for horrendous working conditions in film which somehow ended up in them discussing found footage movies until Remus grossed Janus out with mentioning theories about whether snuff films really existed and the conversation had to ebb into an end before Jan lost his appetite.

"You ever been to a club before?" Remus asked while Janus was checking the event map on which local clubs were holding pride nights.

"Of cooourse. Every other night! You know how Virgil is! Clubbing is his life!"

"No then. Okay okay. Well it is loud and if you want to talk you should learn how to smoke very very soon cause smoke square only talkable place"

"Such wisdom"

Remus scratched at his mustache while looking smug "Hehe indeed"

The club nearby was pumping hot with how many human bodies were pressed in there. Even the line to hang up their jackets and bags was long enough Remus started to run in place to get the ants out of his legs.

There was so much motion all around him Janus' eyes got tired from darting from place to place. There were bars on either side of the club and standing tables stationed all around, most of them filled with left behind or forgotten cups of water while the dancefloor in the middle of the room was overfilled with groups of friends or partners dancing together.

And so many men. Bears, twinks, men who definitely had faceless photos on grindr, men who on a second glance he realized were butch lesbians and men who clearly just like him were here for the first time. And none of them looked like his Remus.

"Why you standing like a statue?" Remus asked as he leant his head on top of Janus' and looked down at him.

"HUH?"

Everything was also loud as hell. Right now the dj was playing a medley of Kylie Minogue's greatest hits and every gay man in that room was losing their collective mind.

'Now would be a good time to know sign' Remus signed and somehow he made his hand movements seem smug.

Despite Janus not knowing sign he could guess what he was saying and in responde he rolled his eyes. Remus smiled at him as he played with one of his human's dreadlocks between his fingers. He formed the hair into a heart shape that made Jan playfully slap him away for being too cheesy.

Remus shimmied his shoulders before motioning to drinking and looked to his human with a questioning look to which Janus locked his elbow with his and waved to the dance floor. Every single of the demon's pointy teeth showed as he grinned.

The way his human's skirt twirled as he danced was the most gorgeous non gorey thing he’d ever seen Remus thought. The songs were going by so fast he couldn't make out any of the words being sung. To him all it was was the bass pumping so hard the thumping went up into his ears and the lights shifting colors every other second.

A creeping sense of lust crawled along his back as he felt the stares of people digging into the back of his head. He supposed he had been lucky with people being too busy all day to sense his succubus presence.

Though when he turned his head to check he noticed that no one was actually looking at him but people were casting glances at Janus's facial scarring. Remus looked at his human and though his expression didn't say anything the demon still wanted to cheer him up, even if this was normal to him.

"I CALL THIS THEE GRAVEDIGGER" Remus yelled over the music before pretending to dig a hole to the rhythm of the music.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Janus laugh and it made tiny fireworks go off in every area of his body.

He started to pretend to nail things to walls while yelling "THIS IS THE ANGRY BUILDER"

--

"I adore your love for proper disinfection and cleanliness" Janus commented as he watched his date grab a cigarette stub from an ashtray and asked a stranger to light it.

"I can't get cancer so it fine"

"Oh honey, that was not the diseases I was referring to"

They were leaning against the railing in the corner of the smokebox right outside the club. Both of them were warm and sweaty from dancing which made steam rise from them up into the darkening evening air. Janus sipped on a margarita while the demon smoked.

Even though they were outside the music was still ringing in their ears and Janus could feel his eyes itch in that specific way where he knew he was tired but there was far too much adrenaline running through him to rest any time soon. 

His hand wandered to take remus but when he looked over to him he caught the demon about to eat ash right from the cigarette.

"NO!" He pulled in the leash which made Remus drop the cig as his head got pulled close to Janus' "No!"

"Just a little ash"

"No! Bad Remus!"

Remus kept full eye contact as he slipped out his tongue and slurped up the remainder of Janus' drink. "I was feeling bloody parched innit" He said in a bad British accent.

"You're bloody buzzing, that's what you are!"

"Blimey!" He slapped his hand against his forehead while putting on a fake frightened look. "Somebody better make me less of a troublemaking little sod" He teased.

"Shut up"

"UggghH J-Anus daddy"

Janus' cracked up into a slight blush while pushing his hand right into Remus' face "You are so stupid"

"You love me"

"I hate your guts"

"Imma take that as sarcasm"

"I'm parched. If you buy me another drink I might decide whether it's sarcasm or not"

--

The majority of Remus' "dancing" was just him bouncing up and down while letting his arms flail all around which Janus found quite cute in a way. The demon linked his hands together with his human's and got him to bounce along before spinning him around.

They did a bit of a two step together and Remus leant his forehead against Janus'. As the song slowed was about to move his arms around his date’s waist but the demon didn’t notice because bouncing like a goddamn trampoline got tiring real fast and he was already motioning for them to sit down for a little bit.

Janus was just about to nod when the dj switched to playing songs from Beyonce's latest album and his eyes went as wide as a cat who had just seen its favorite toy.

The demon went to a table near the wall while Janus stayed on the dance floor. He could definitely smell some other succubi in the club but no succubi with half a brain would try to seduce a human they'd seen a fellow succubi dance with.

Though he did see that Janus started to dance with another human man. He couldn't see the man completely clearly from in between the hordes of people but the man was tall and wide shouldered with beaded cornrows that shimmered in the club lights. Ugh, The beads were rainbow colored too. How fashionable and well themed.

Remus got the distinct urge to slam that man specifically with a hammer but not in the joyful way he usually thought of violence. It was a new kind of feeling that made his eyebrow twitch and his nails dig into the table wood.

Maybe he was just hungry, he thought but his appetite didn't blossom when he looked at the man, only when he looked at Janus.

He watched as Janus and the stranger kissed, and not just on the cheek like he and Janus had. His nails left claw marks on the table and his teeth churned against each other but he couldn't get himself to look away.

The room was crowded with strangers and yet when Janus' glanced over the only eyes that met his were Remus'. Their eye contact held as Janus kissed the stranger, as he had another man's tongue down his throat and his spit on his lips.

The song ended and so did the kiss. Remus saw Janus yell something over the music to the man and gave him a smile before their contact ended and the man disappeared into the swarm as if he had never been there in the first place, or maybe Remus just didn't care to pay any more attention to him.

Janus' cheeks were flushed when he finally had gotten through the crowd and gone back to stand beside Remus.

"DO YOU WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE?" He yelled.

"SURE!"

By the time they had checked out their bag and jackets and gotten outside the sky had turned a dark blue and the air ran a pleasant chill against Remus' bare knees. There were only a few stars out but the city was still bustling with people in bars, existing and leaving and going home or staying over at friend's.

The adrenaline was still making Janus' head thump in rhythm with the bass that became further and further away as they turned off from the main street and geared towards where their car was parked. It felt like the night air was waking him up from some sort of warm blurry dream as it filled his lungs.

"Did you bloody see that?" He asked.

"You exchanging leftover food with that guy? Yeah I did"

"It happened so naturally! Is it always like that at clubs?"

Remus shrugged.

"Fascinating" janus said it in the same tone of voice the narrator of a nature documentary would. "It was fine with you was it not? It's not like we're dating innit"

"I know"

"You still seem a bit short in tone there darling"

Remus didn't give any response aside from some vague shake of his head.

Suddenly Janus stopped in his tracks and went over to a picnic table nearby to sit down on the top part of it before patting the spot next to him. By now they had gotten to a less busy part of the town where only a few drunken people were waiting for ubers or going home arm in arm. Remus sat the book bag aside and jumped up to sit cross legged next to him so close that his knee rubbed against the side of Janus' thigh.

"When I-" "Can I-" They spoke at the same time and Janus motioned for his date to go first.

"Can I say something honest?"

"No" Janus scoffed "I hope you shut up and lie for forever and ever"

"I think something's wrong with me"

Janus gasped and put his hand over his mouth "Nooo. You don't say. No way. Nothing like asking to see pictures of a bus crash to show how normal you are"

When Remus didn't joke back Janus slowly let his hand fall back down to his lap and leant a bit closer to try and meet his eyes but Remus kept his head down so his messy curls fell down in front of his eyes.

"I don't know how to say it in this language very well" Remus continued. "But when you asked about that at the restaurant.....I wish you could understand me" He said in his native language.

Janus cupped his hand against Remus' cheek and felt the warmth linger against his fingers as he waited for him to speak. He saw Remus taking a deep breath before continuing.

"I can have sex, dunno if I'm good but my dick works and ass works and everything is normal and stuff but I feel...Nothing. Sometimes it hurts a little but then just- Just like rubbing two hands together. Nothing sexy or good. Just rubbing. I often zone out up into dream land and think of gore and piss and shit and fun stuff and just come back when it's gone or like over"

He had practically blabbered it all out in one breath and as he finished his eyes darted up and down Janus' face searching for any change in his expression. His legs bounced, his feet tapped into the table and his nails moved to pick at dead skin. Anything to keep himself distracted from the possibility of Janus hating him.

"Did you zone out when we-"

"Yeah. After clothes started like coming off"

"Oh...."

Remus felt his stomach drop.

"Well before Virgil walked in all I did was uhm, excuse my french, touch you down there from the outside of your shorts. Was that okay with you?"

Janus looked at him with such genuine worry in his eyes it made Remus want to burst into tears and pull his own skin off.

"Yeah...Yeah! Completely okay! I said I can have sex! I can! No problem! I don't even know why I'm saying this!"

All at once regret washed over him because what if Janus now wouldn't want to have sex with him so he couldn't kill him so he could never return to hell and never see Remy or Emile or his brother ever again. He saw that Janus' lips were moving but no sounds reached his ears. God he wished he could kill The manager somehow.

"Can you say again?" Remus asked "I just zoned out"

Janus placed his hand on top of his "I know that we enjoy joking about it but there's genuinely nothing wrong with you darling. This just means we have to discuss things more if we ever do want to be intimate and I adore discussing shit with you. You're my lil good ol gossip-discuss-shittalk-boy"

Remus held in any urge to cry but couldn't get himself to form any sort of coherent response. At most he did some vague nod.

"Would you use the word asexual for yourself or is it more of a biological thing for you? Or some other variable thing I haven't even considered" Janus continued "If you know what asexual means-"

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHAT ASEXUAL MEANS!" Remus snapped as he felt something ugly regurgitate up his throat "I'm not That stupid! You think I've never laid with someone like that! That my brother never suggested that word!? I wish I could- I know what it is but it doesn't- I am not. I can't be"

He couldn't explain to Janus that he was a demon, a completely different species. He couldn't explain how there was no way that the human concept of asexuality could fit on him when he couldn’t even survive without feeding on lust. He had just been created wrong.

"I know you’re feeling emotional right now darling but don’t raise your voice at me like that" 

"Sorry"

"It's okay, just not again"

"I don't like being reminded of that asexual word” Just saying the word made Remus feel wrong “I don't like it- I don't like reminding myself that I can't be that. I try not to think about it"

Silently Janus assumed that Remus was meaning that his numbness to sex was because of some specific traumatic event that he didn't feel ready to talk about yet and decided to not ask about it any more. He simply held his hand a little tighter.

"Sure dear" He stroked his thumb up and down along his skin.

"You still want me?"

Janus snickered and was about to make a snarky joke but decided to be as clear as possible "Yes"

Remus smiled and knocked his shoulder against his human's "Aww. Grosssss”

“Do you feel any better now dear?”

“....Hmmmm…Yeaaash”

“Lying is obviously fantastic and I hate that telling the truth and being vulnerable’ actually bloody works sometimes. Annoying innit”

“Very innit” Remus leant in and rubbed the tip of his nose against Jan’s which made him laugh “So what did you wanna say?"

"Oh right.....Well you saw how I kissed that man?"

"It was hard to miss"

"It was my first kiss" Janus hesitated ever so slightly before continuing "And it made me realize that I wanted my first kiss to be with you"

Remus got so caught off guard he let out a weird yelpy sound and his mustache twisted upwards before he sputtered out "C-Cool"

"Cool?"

"Yeah 'cause uhhh ‘Cause- Uhm brain working- One sec- Uhmm Yeah because seeing you kiss him made me realize I don't wanna lose you and that I like wanted to be honest with you"

"Then it sounds like we are in agreement huh" Janus reached up and cupped Remus' cheek "Can I?"

The thought flashed in the demon's head that this was the first time anyone had asked for a kiss and nothing more from him.

He nodded.

Janus leant in and kissed him.

It was very adorably obvious that it was Janus second ever kiss since he kissed Remus in the unsure way someone who was trying to figure out how hard or soft he should press his lips would. His eyes were closed but his eyelids flickered still since he was too happy to fully keep them close.

The demon laid his arms around Jan's shoulders and moved his head slightly to make him more comfortable. His lips were as full and sweet as they looked and still tasted slightly like a fruit cocktail.

Actually it wasn't just a slight taste.

It felt just like feeding but...pleasant. Like how Remy and Emile had described it feeling like during sex. Like slices of oranges, dribbles of honey and lemon juice flowing into his mouth. Like he was having the first decent meal of his life.

But it didn't make sense. Remus moved back from the kiss and searched for answers in Janus' expression but all he saw was his lovely human trying to keep his smile in control but quickly giving up and grinning as wide as he could.

"Are you horny right now?" Remus asked bluntly.

Janus scoffed but it turned into a giggle "No. Should I be??"

"...No...No. This is- You're so pretty. I wish I could eat you and keep your heart in a little jar and walk around with it everywhere! Can we kiss again?"

"PLEase yes!"

They kissed again and this time Remus let his eyes close and let himself feel Janus' hands gently press against his cheeks. The feeling of feeding continued and he had no words for it anymore, just euphoria.

For the first time in his life Remus wasn't hungry.

"It's late" Janus murmured as the kiss ended, though his hand moved to rest on his demon's knee.

"Right yeah uh big moon" He was as close to speechless a Remus could come. His head kept spinning about how in the hell he could have fed from a non horny kiss.

When he barely got a response from the demon Janus continued "So are you driving me home?"

"YesS! Yeah!"

--

"I can't focus on driving" Remus suddenly said halfway on their way home.

"Why, do you want to crash into a bus perhaps"

"No- Well that too but I want to keep kissing you"

The sound of Janus bursting into giggles carried Remus the rest of the way home.

--

Janus watched as Remus took the book bag out from the backseat "Do you want to stay the night?"

"UuuuuUUuh I mean won't the sour virgin get annoyed by our sloppy tongue yodeling kissy sounds all night?"

"Darling, Never use those words in that order again please, but I suppose yes that might be a problem"

"I dunno babe"

"Babe?? Babe????" Janus dramatically fluttered his eyelashes "Now where the hell did Babe come from?"

"'Cause you're such a handsome pretty big ol ba-"

The words suddenly stopped the moment Remus turned to walk towards the apartment complex. Janus watched as his eyes grew wide and the bag slipped out of his hand and fell to the pavement.

When he turned to see what had caught him off guard all Janus saw was a stranger standing near the apartment entrance. Even in the darkness of the night the stranger's brightly white hair stood out like a lighthouse along with their nearly ghostly pale skin.

Before Janus had time to remind Remus it was rude to stare like that the demon had already taken off running towards the stranger as fast as he could. The human didn't know what to do but to pick up the forgotten bag and try to keep up.

He saw Remus collapse to his knees in front of the stranger and hug tightly around their legs. When Janus got closer he realized his shoulders were shaking as if he was sobbing but he wasn't letting out a single sound. 

[aajjks]

USE THIS ONE INSTEAD!!! i had to fix the typos lol 😭

DHP!JK

fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuckkkkkkkk!!!!!!

ian tries to play it off; lie and get away with it like he does with crystal but it doesn’t work. jungkook sees right through his bullshit, now, the only option left is to tell crystal everything. “shut. the fuck. up” ian is glaring daggers at his little brother. he doesn’t say it but his eyes are pleading, begging jungkook to keep his mouth shut about the affair.

ian likes to think that he’s doing this to protect jungkook. it’s what he’s done his entire life, but what if there was more? ian likes to entertain that thought from time to time but after what sarang has done to jungkook and his family, there is no ‘more,’ only ‘what it is’ and its become a problem. she is the problem. these are the excuses ian tells himself to justify his adultery—it’s all her fault. i had to do this because of her. he did this for y/n.

“please…please don’t tell her” ian begs but jungkook isn’t convinced. having enough of jungkook’s bratty attitude, he grabs his younger brother by the collar and shoves him against the door of the dressing room. “listen here you little shit, i did this for YOU. i jeopardized my marriage so you could fucking prosper. you should be THANKING me. if it wasn’t for me, sarang would’ve fucking raped you again!”

“mom told me about what you did, jungkook and now your spoiled ass wants to get rid of me too? i don’t FUCKING think so. we’re family. i’m your fucking brother and i did this because i love and care about you!”

~🫧

“If it wasn’t for me, sarang would’ve fucking raped you again!”

Jungkook doesn’t think twice before he punches his brother hard. How dare he say that?

She didn’t rape him, she tried to, but she didn’t succeed. There is a huge difference. How could he say something so triggering?

“ILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” Jungkook punches him again. He fucking hates his family. They’re all psychotic.

How can they claim to love him but do the most disturbing bullshit to him? “YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF. YOU ARE THE ONE BEING RAPED BY HER NOW HAHAHA.”

There is a maniac look in his eyes

Jungkook growls and grits his teeth, that familiar anger, threatening to make him lose his mind

Jungkook no, he’s your brother

“I SWEAR to God that I hate mom and you. You guys are fucking psycho. YOU ONLY DID THIS BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO FUCK HER. YOU MISSED THAT PUSSY.”

He doesn’t care if he’s making a scene, his brother shouldn’t have said that.

“DID I PUSH YOU INTO HER BED? FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU.”

“you didn’t do this for me. You’re just fucked in the head hyung.” He spits before putting on his shirt and he opens the door.

He stormed out of the dressing room, he gives the suit to the clerk and eunwoo is so confused.

“Jungkook? Where’s Ian? What the fuck happened?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but he takes the suit and storms off to his best friend’s car.

Eunwoo runs after him.

“What the fuck jungkook! Ian’s literally bleeding in the dressing room. What the fuck did you do?”

Jungkook groans.

“Leave him there to rot! Just come here and drive me home. NOW.”

•••

Jungkook storms into the house, harshly shutting the door behind him that it makes a cringing noise. “YN WHERE ARE YOU?” He asks. Throwing his coat on the couch.

It’s winter, but his body’s feeling hot with anger

He’s so angry he’s literally fuming.

“YN WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

[estellardreams]

Tachophobia Expanded Universe: Incorrect Quotes

Niko: Then either Sonic is a god or could kill god, and I do not care if there is a difference.

Camellia, looking at a dead phone: How do we bring this thing back to life? Magic? Live sacrifice? I know a guy in town-

Camellia, holding a toy lightsaber: I’m Darth Vader! Doctor Aster: I’m done with everyone’s bullshit.

Camellia: What do we think of Niko? *pause* Damien: *sighs* Nice pal. Kyle: I think they're gay.

Damien: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much? Kyle: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is! Damien: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!! Kyle: You take that back!!! Damien: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.

Damien: Is this gaslighting? Am I being gaslit? Doctor Aster: If I were gaslighting you, you’d never know it. Damien: Is THAT gaslighting? Doctor Aster: Shut up.

Damien: Hello, I'm Damien. I work at a shop now. Here to help. Look, they gave me a badge with my name on it in case I forget it. Very helpful, as that does happen.

Damien, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast. Kyle: You're kinda ugly.

Camellia: Do you guys want to see a butterfly? Kyle: Ooh, yes please! Doctor Aster, with their laptop open: I'm not going to stop working to look at a stupid bug! Camellia: It's not a bug though... Doctor Aster: ... Kyle: ... Doctor Aster: Well I still don't want to see. Kyle, realizing: Please don't throw- Camellia: Whee! *throws a stick of butter*

Damien: Just wondering, did you get any sleep? Camellia: Did I get any... leap? Damien: What...?

Niko, gesturing to Doctor Aster: Camellia, look what you did! You made Mom upset! Damien: Mom, please don’t cry, we’re sorry! Camellia: I’m sorry Mom... :( Doctor Aster, near tears: I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!

Kyle: Hi could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire? Damien: Microwave for 40 minutes. Camellia: WHY WERE YOU MICROWAVING A LEMON?! Damien: I read boiling lemons helps cover up bad smells and I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges, but I didn’t own any pots… Niko: Did you burn an orange too? HOW?! Damien: Microwave for 40 minutes.

Kyle, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

Camellia: Onion rings are vegetable donuts. Damien, used to Camellia being dumb: Sure... Camellia: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed. Damien: Okay? Camellia: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake. Damien: Camellia: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio- Damien: Jesus, that one is a little- Niko, interested: No, no, Camellia, keep going.

Kyle: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths. Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.

Damien: What's that? Camellia: Chocolate. Damien: What's chocolate? Camellia: Candy. Do they not have candy where you're from? Damien: Yeah. Grapes, nuts. Camellia: No wonder you're so bitter.

Kyle: Don’t you have any dignity, Doctor Aster? Doctor Aster: Uh, no.

Niko: Hey Damien, do you have any hobbies? Damien: Swimming.. Niko: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to- Damien: In a pool of self hatred and regret.

Damien: I’m terrible at expressing myself. Doctor Aster: Don’t worry, actions speak louder than words! Damien: Yes, but my actions are also bad.

Kyle: Oh gosh I wish I got more sleep I only got six hours! Camellia: Six? I only got three! Niko: You guys got sleep? Damien, comes stumbling out of their room and grabs a jug of coffee before saying: What year is it??

Camellia: You’re insane! Doctor Aster: Sure I am, what’s your point?

(OH MY GOD WHEN I SAW THIS GENERATED I SCREAMED:)

Damien: Welcome to my room. As you can see, I've knocked over many chairs because I get so tilted at the towers. Kyle: Uh, this isn't really tilted. Or a tower. Damien: Well you see, it's a gamer pad. Not many girls come in here because I get friendzoned so frequently. But that's okay. Kyle: I'd like to be in the Friendzone! I like friends! Damien: It's not as pleasant as you think. They don't treat you like a friend. They treat you like an item. Sometimes I wish I could be more than just an accessory to these women; But unfortunately, as a gamer, I don't get respect. Kyle: I'm not a gamer! so maybe they'll respect me! Damien: That just makes you a beta cuck.

Niko: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

Camellia: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Doctor Aster: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.

Doctor Aster: What kinds of sounds annoy you? Camellia: Are we talking real sounds or imaginary ones? Doctor Aster, now interested: Lets say imaginary. Camellia: Spiders wearing flip flops.

[boyakishan]

In the event of the mugging.

Notice the mugger

Run from the mugger

Assuming that step two isn't possible, an example of a variety of responses is posted below:

Mugger: give me your wallet

Me: I don't have a wallet.

Mugger:

Me: y'know, if you're trying to dislocate your shoulder you really shouldn't do that.

Mugger: huh.

Me: may I?

[assuming they don't give me the gun]

Mugger: back off. Hands in the air!

Me: ok, ok, geez you're grumpy. Only trying to help.

Mugger: give me your wallet.

Me: *reaches into inside of pockets*

Mugger:

Me: you don't have to act so nervous, put the gun into your jacket.

Mugger:

Me: are you really this stupid? If people walk by, see you mugging me they'll help and this will get so much more complicated. Gun into your jacket.

Mugger: are you seriously giving me advice?

Me: hey, if I'm getting mugged the least I can do is make as painless as possible.

Mugger: just give me your wallet!

Me: I'm trying to, but my finger's got locked into my pocket.

Mugger: you what?

Me: my pinky is looped around my keyring, which is stuck between two pens holding my palm. If I let go, I'll lose my pens.

Mugger: ... What?

Me: I can make more money, I can't bother digging through my house to find my pens

Mugger: huh??

Me: anyways-

*grabs his wrist, raises the arm and pushes him forward, knife in hand.*

Mugger: WAAH

Me: Luigi!*stabs the man*

Mugger: *raises gun to my face.*

Me: I have my grip solidly around my knife, which is currently embedded in your neck. Shoot me, the knife goes flying and you die of bloodloss.

Mugger: GIVE. ME. THE WALLET.

Me: If you shoot me, I'll twist the knife out as I die. Unless you get to the hospital, with my spit and fingers on your gun...

Mugger: are you insane?

Me: I'm a man who's literally given advice to a mugger. What do you think?

Mugger: ...

Alternatively

Mugger: HANDS IN THE AIR

Me: shhh, don't shout.

Mugger: HAND-

Me: *shoves a finger into his mouth.* If you're trying to attract everyone's attention, I'd suggest you keep shouting.

Mugger: ...

Me: what do you want?

Mugger: step back.

Me: *Shoving the gun aside.* Is this your first time?

Mugger: *forces gun at me* step. Back.

Me: *raises knife.* Wanna bet how hard my muscle memory trained arm can stab your neck with?

Mugger: ...

Me: lower the gun, put it back in your pocket.

Mugger: this is a mugging.

Me: and I'm going to make this streamlined. Calm down, surprisingly, some people have considered what's happened when they get mugged.

Mugger: I- you. Just give me your wallet.

Me: No. Lower the gun.

Mugger: I have a loaded gun-

Me: and you've hooked my arm I can't move it to get my wallet.

Mugger: ... Oh.

Me: Wow, not only is your stance and confidence lacking. But it appears you're lacking in the brain department.

Mugger: excuse-

Me: *tilts the gun sideways.* I have a gun, AND my knife. What a joyous day. Now, why are you mugging me?

*whatever*

Me: *depends* ... Ok? Cool, I guess. *takes a pic*

Mugger: hey!

Me: *cocks the gun* March towards the police station, if you run I'll shoot your leg and drag you to the hospital.

Mugger: ...

[Other mugging thing]

Mugger: give me your wallet.

Me: huh?

Mugger: your wallet, this is a loaded cocked gun-

Me: ... Why are you holding the gun sideways?

Mugger: wallet or I shoot.

Me: ... What's a wallet?

Mugger: where do you store your money?

Me: Uhm. In that trash can?

Mugger: ...

Me: no, wait. Under the trashcan.

Mugger: ... bullshit. Give me your wallet

Me: ... Won't that gun dislocate his shoulder?

Mugger: ... What??

Me: like, guns produce recoil. If he shoots me like that, the gun will miss and then I can just. *mimes throwing a punch*

Mugger: ... *looks at his grip*

Me: oh shit I said that outloud.

Mugger: just. Give me your wallet.

Me: why?

Mugger: *reason?* [More likely] none yo business.

Me: m'kay, really quick- oh hi officer.

Mugger: *looks behind him*

Me: *pulls the knife out and stabs him* [or more likely, pushes the gun out his hand, knife in other hand at his neck.]

Mugger: ...

Me: m'kay, step away from the gun, you take it and try shove me off I pulled my arm and start. Pushing down.

Mugger: *slowly backs up*

Me: keep going, step away.

Mugger: ...

Me: *grabs the gun, checking the mag*

Mugger: *glances around* [if he tries something stupid whild I grab the gun either shoot him, stab him. Or hop/roll aside.]

Me: Yeah, you're not very smart.

Mugger: ...

Me: alright, let's go to the station.

Most likely, I'll either run, talk my way out of it, or play dumb. But I'm very prepared to stab people so ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

[lucan-multiverse]

cosmic sidestep - their multiverse p4 [Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3]

--

The days crawl by in his not-life.

He’s out of place. Lost. Purposeless. There’s too much time to think, to remember, to compare. Sleep becomes a chore and the moment his head hits the pillow, Luc discovers himself lost in wretched dreams where Blake and Ryan somehow blend together and he’s trying to reach for them only for his own face and his own hands to shove him away.

He always wakes up disorientated. Dry heaving, choking back tears and fighting for air in a way that brings the nice doctor running to his side and injecting him with something calming until he can breathe again.

Once, Luc had thought he was past this. Not the bitter tang of his grief – that would never fade, but the sharpness of it. It had dulled under the spark of hope he nursed close to his chest. Hope that Blake was still out there. Hope that the only man he belongs to isn’t truly gone.

He could never truly be gone. Luc refuses to accept that possibility.

But the days wear on and yet another year rolls by since the mission to explore closer to the rift had been given the go ahead and Blake had been chosen. Of course he had. He was one of the best.

And then Luc’s parents too. Chosen by the Galaxy Alliance’s top brass too, for the same reason.

And Luc, far away on the outer rim, had only just made it back in time to watch the launch from the deck of the Astral Horizon with his sister and her brood at their side.

It was supposed to only be a flyby, a cursory scouting run, but no one had anticipated the flare. One minute they were there, the next, the anomaly’s readings were off the charts. It flashed, a blinding, bright crescendo-

Then… they were gone.

Luc still counted every single day. Every hour. Every moment without them.

How he functioned – losing his husband and his parents in the same pulsing swell of light and heat– Luc didn’t know. Olivia had been distraught, but her children and her husband had saved her from succumbing to despair completely.

There hadn’t been anyone left to save Luc. Just the ghosts that walked with him through the empty voids of his heart.

--

“This whole thing is fucking insane,” Luca spits angrily, and not for the first time, falling backwards onto the bunk he had once called his own. It hadn’t been that long since he had carted his small bag of all his worldly possessions, his little drone and his guitar to settle into Ryan’s quarters near the bridge but this bunk still felt a little bit like home. Familiar, really.

Harris gives him a sympathetic pat.

“It is fucking wild,” she agrees.

Luca shakes his head furiously, mouth hard and tense. It’s easier to channel his low grade unease and anxiety into anger than it is to face what’s really happening. It’s crazy. It’s insane. It’s…. it terrifies him in a way he can’t bring himself to face.

Much easier to wield his denials like a weapon.

“We don’t even look alike!” he continues to vent.

Burgaw snorts from the other bunk. “Yeah, you do.”

“Bullshit!”

“Luca, he’s literally you. Fifteen years from now,” Harris says. She gives his cheek a cheeky pinch in an effort to lighten the mood. He knows she’s trying to make everything less weird, to ease his unease but all it does is make him seethe. “I knew you would always keep this babyface even in your thirties, though, and now there’s proof.”

He slaps her hand away, wanting to give in to the hot tears pricking behind his eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s gonna be okay, Luca,” Burgaw sighs. Her voice is a disembodied echo from the top bunk. She’s lying back and he can’t see her eyes, only her profile as she stares at the Berlin’s metal ceilings. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious about his world? Where he came from? Your other life?”

There’s a lot he wants to say to that. It all percolates around in his brain, too many thoughts and fears and same sickening replay of his stomach dropping into his boots. The first time they had explained who the stranger was, where they had found him – none of it seemed real. Right up until they put them in a room together, Luca had thought the whole damn thing was a joke.

In the end, it was the expression on his other self’s face – his face, just… older - when Ryan had walked into the room that had made Luca suddenly believe.

Luca had never had anything worth losing before, but he already knows what he will look like if he lost Ryan.

--

Luc isn’t particularly surprised when Mason tracks him down in the starboard observation lounge. The captain had deemed him safe enough to have run of the ship, except for the hulking escort that shadowed his movements. Some behemoth with super powers that didn’t exist in his world. What did they call it? Bio-ticks? Close. Biotics.

Luc had tried briefly to strike up a conversation with the man, only to get vague grunts in reply. Clearly not a talker and Luc didn’t have the energy to push it.

When the door opens, he doesn’t look away from the nebular swirling in the distance. He expected it to be his escort, only he gets his Dad instead.

The urge to call him that is tight in his chest. Mason, in his world, had been the one to stay home with them when they were younger. Then his parents had swapped and it had been Isaac at the forefront of Luc’s teenage years. It’s unsettling coming face to face with Mason now. Mason with a different face.

Luc almost half expects to see his twin on Mason’s heels and the sudden bout of longing for his sister slams him so hard he almost forgets how to breathe.

The devastation must show on his face because Mason’s lips purse. “If this isn’t a good time, I can come back.”

Typical Mason. “No,” Luc sighs, gesturing to the couch across from him. He’s resigned to this.  It’s been a long time coming. “I figured you would have questions eventually. You talked to Isaac?”

Mason crosses the room, stalking almost. He moves like a predator and he watches Luc just as intently. It’s not natural. In fact, it’s downright terrifying if Luc allows himself to think about it too much. He swallows as Mason lowers himself to the seat, trying to guess at all the parts of him that had been augmented.

He’s heard the rumors too. And the ship’s intranet was a gossip and information goldmine that had been embarrassingly easy to get access to.

Too easy. Luc couldn’t help but wonder if he had had a little help.

He eyes Mason now and tries to smile. Odd to think this lethal killing machine in front of him considered him to be the threat. But he’s typical, a-grade all human. There’s nothing particularly special about him except that he slipped through a tear in the space time continuum and ended up in the wrong reality.

Mason leans back, stare unblinking. “I did.”

“So…” Luc waits for Mason to say more but he doesn’t. “You know.”

Mason nods, giving little away. “I do.”

The beat goes on too long. Silence in the wake of the ship’s life support systems and only the ragged edge to Luc’s breathing. He feels himself fraying. All his edges, held tight protectively, somehow start to unravel.

And he has to ask.

He has to know.

“Can you help me?” Luc whispers through dry lips, even though he knows it’s pointless. They’re at war, their resources here are stretched pitifully thin. There’s no guarantee he’s even in the right time slip.

There’s no guarantee they’re even alive… but Luca won’t forgive himself if he doesn’t try so he squeezes his eyes closed and pins his hopes on a dream. “Can you help me find them?”

-- Mason hadn’t meant to seek Luc out, but he runs twelve laps around the Berlin and still finds himself restless. He slows, grabbing a barely needed towel and wiping the few minor drops of sweat from his augmented body and finds Luc in the observation lounge.

Now that he looks closer, he can see the echoes of Isaac in him so clearly. The straight spine, the lifted chin, the shade of his eyes and the line of his nose. Luc is fine boned, lean, and even in his 30’s he still looks obscenely youthful even if he’s shed the ever present softness of his cheeks his younger counterpart still sports. Luc carries himself with the confidence of a soldier. A military man. And with what Mason has learned of their other selves, he’s not surprised this Luc followed his father and went career too.

But now that he was here, looking into Luc’s slightly wary face, Mason isn’t sure what to say.

In another world, this young man is his son.

The magnitude of it. The longing. It’s bittersweet to know.

“Did something happen?” Luc finally asks, long after Mason had known he’d been speaking for Isaac too when he promised they would do what they could. What could they do other than hover and wait by the tear? They couldn’t sit out the entire war on the fringes, he knew that. But for now… they’d stay.  “Or do you need to ask something?”

The invitation for more is there, laid starkly on the table. Luc knows Mason is curious and Mason doesn’t bother to hide it.

“Is it weird for you to talk about?” Mason finally says, shifting in his seat. It seems vaguely unnatural, like he’s only playing at being human. It’s less disconcerting the more time Luc spends with him and somehow, the separation makes the ache inside him hurt less.

“No,” he finally answers. “Not really. I kind of like it, I guess. Makes me remember. Makes me think about them – makes them feel real. Otherwise I just end up wondering if it’s all a dream.”

“Still. It can’t be easy.” Mason lifts a dark brow and Luca knows he’s pointing in a roundabout way to his father and his husband. “Being here with us.”

Luc leans forward, linking his fingers. “Well. Yeah. Some parts more than others.”

Mason doesn’t need the explanation. He had never understood the intensity that brewed between the Berlin’s pilot and the much younger engineer but he’s less surprised than he should have been to know it transcended lives. It makes him think of his own changing feelings. Of the nights he had spent recently in the Captain’s quarters, savoring with delight the way Isaac shivered and melted and came apart under his touch after succumbing to Mason's first kiss. Mason thought he had lost his home, had resigned himself to being alone the day he had slipped the ring off his finger and dropped it bitterly into the ship’s recyclers, only to realize now it had only been a waypoint for something so much deeper.

Something real and profound. And unexpected.

He pulls his attention back to the dark haired man in front of him. Luc’s dark eyes watch him knowingly.

“Your… husband,” Mason cringes slightly to say the word and he’s not entirely sure why. “I don’t know why it feels weird to hear you say that when you talk about Ryan.”

“Blake was my flight instructor back in basic,” Luc half laughs. He’s almost smiling, even if his eyes are a little shiny. Mason can see how he still smarts from his loss but he’s trying to muscle through. “I took one look at him, felt something I couldn't explain, and pursued him relentlessly.”

Mason hadn’t expected to hear that. He tries to reconcile it with the version of Luca he knows - young, unsure. Crippling self-doubt. He can see here this is where the two of them diverge and he needs to know more. “You pursued him?”

“Well, we fucked the first night,” Luc says blithely, waving a hand. Mason blinks and chuckles inwardly. Yeah, still Luca. “-and I couldn’t let him go. Luckily it was mutual. But when almost got caught and when Blake realized our relationship might mean I wouldn’t be allowed to graduate, he sorta tried to pump the brakes-“

Now that didn’t sound like the Blake Ryan Mason knew.

“But,” Luc continues, this time with a genuine grin. “I convinced him to just marry me instead.”

As quickly as it came, Luc’s smile slips but Mason tries to hold onto the moment.

“I don’t imagine that took a lot of effort,” Mason said dryly, half smiling. He was thinking of the Luca and Ryan he knows, their sheer codependence and Ryan’s protective fierceness every time someone looked twice at him curled around his boy.

“No,” Luc agreed. “It didn’t. But we had to keep it secret for a long time.”

Mason’s frown makes Luc clarify. “Galaxy alliance regs. So we wouldn’t be separated.” He slumps back against the couch and turns his face to the stars outside the viewport. “But I guess that didn’t work out so well after all.” -- [part 4]

[wonderful-world-of-hetalia]

About your agere post...

Why do you always have to lie? I am that so-called "former mutual". You are willfully misinterpreting what I said to villainize me, even when I wasn't speaking about you, OR real age regressors. What I was very CLEARLY talking about at the time are the adults who PRETEND to age regress in order to manipulate minors who don't know better. How dare you put such insensitive, ableist, vile words in my mouth. If your post was truly made with positive intent, you would not have needed to drag a friend that you lost in fucking June of 2022 into it. Keep our names out of your mouth. Mind your goddamn business. I'm tired of hearing about your bullshit.

hello anon, which I can clearly tell who you are from your tone; I will not stoop down to your level, but i am willing to educate about what age regression is because it seems that even when you said that in the first place, you've confused age regressors with the dreaded DDLG community, who are known to infiltrate many SFW spaces; those same people in that dreaded community are the ones who you were "CLEARLY talking about at the time are the adults who PRETEND to age regress in order to manipulate minors who don't know better."

as i said earlier, the DDLG (and variants) people you confuse us with do not belong in agere spaces at all, since they believe regression is inherently kinky, which is already a huge misconception about agere. there have been countless reports of ddlg people using regression to lure actual regressors into their fetish without consent, which is actually fucked because many regressors are minors who cannot consent! when people regress into littlespace we cannot consent even when their body is an adult! literally look at how many times regressors have to tell the ddlg community to not interact with anything, because many times, the ddlg community does not have boundaries and will sexualize anything seen as childish, innocent, cute, or even in some cases, sexualize an entire alternate fashion that was meant to repel these people away in the first place.

now let's go on to why people regress and there's a good amount of reasons why. “People with a history of trauma may be more likely to regress” and is “used by people who’ve experienced childhood trauma, mental health issues, or physical health issues.” i regress because i have survived abuse, and i have involuntarily regressed when i am reminded of the countless times i have been abused and dehumanized from my family and from my abuser, who was very prominent in this fandom although if i recall, they have moved to the Centricide fandom. other factors of why people regress include:

schizophrenia

dissociative identity disorder (DID)

post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)

depression

dementia

borderline personality disorder (BPD)

think about why people regress in the first place before making an incredibly harmful assumption about a perfectly healthy coping mechanism that has been recommended by countless psychiatrists as a means to heal from trauma and to reclaim a childhood many survivors never had.

this extremely toxic mentality is why I have said that the hetalia fandom has been extremely dangerous towards regressors, especially if someone sees one of the country people as a caregiver to them! germany has always been the closest thing i’ve ever had to a father figure, because guess what? i lost my dad when I was 3 due to generational trauma taking a toll on him!

also about that last part: your names have never been mentioned at all, even in the tags??? i do not stoop down by calling out the names of certain people because i am an adult with critical thinking skills and know better than to spit the vile names of those who harmed me. besides, why not mind your own business when you see regressors having fun and healing their wounds with the anime country guys? consult this image: