#now doing this work. literally not enough time between things to leave and get food. STILL have so much left on my to do list

[bunnyboy-juice]

oughghgh desperately craving the "reset all needs" pills that dont exist

[10byten]

Meeting Jaehyun’s friend

So here's part 2 of this publication ! The dinner with the rest of 127 and how you manage to charm them all over the course of one evening. I hope you’ll enjoy it. 💘

As soon as Jaehyun steps into the apartment, he’s hit by the most delicious smell teasing his senses. In the living room, a table filled with Italian dishes catches his eye. You’re standing in the kitchen, carefully spreading lemon glaze over a cake. He can’t resist. He slips an arm around your waist and pulls you close, hugging you from behind. You tilt your head slightly, giving him access to your neck, and he starts placing soft kisses along your skin.

“You’re incredible. What is all this?” “I wanted to do something nice for you… and make sure your friends eat well tonight.” He chuckles, looking at the food. “I’m worried they’ll start coming over too often after this.” You laugh, “Would that be such a bad thing?” In one swift move, he spins you around to face him, a playful glint in his eye. “Hmm, yeah, actually. That would be a problem. I wouldn’t get enough alone time with you.” He leans in, kissing you deeply, savoring your lips as if it’s been years instead of just a day apart. His hands wander lower.

“Mm-mm,” you murmur against his lips, breaking the moment, “your friends are literally going to be here in one minute.” “I’m starting to regret inviting them. Who even needs friends, anyway?” “That’s a great question. We could just pretend no one’s home. Let them get bored of ringing the bell.” Jaehyun groans dramatically, pressing his forehead against yours. “This is exactly why you’re dangerous. You’re always so perfect.”

Before he can pull you in for another kiss, the doorbell rings. You laugh softly, escaping his arms, leaving him pouting like a kid. He trails behind you as you open the door, his gaze still glued to you, stars in his eyes.

The night kicks off better than anyone could’ve imagined.

The boys are all immediately charmed. They compliment your cooking nonstop, their plates barely staying full for longer than a minute.

“I have to admit, I had my doubts when we got to the door earlier,” Haechan jokes. “For a second, I thought we’d open it to find Jaehyun standing there alone, and it’d finally be time to stage an intervention.” You raise an eyebrow, amused. “An intervention? For what?” “Well, we’ve heard a lot about you… like, a lot, and Jaehyun was so secretive about everything, we kinda started wondering if you were even real.”

“Oh, I see,” you tease. “Or maybe you’re all just crazy and have been talking to an empty chair this whole time.” The room erupts into laughter. Johnny raises his glass. “Damn, dude. Now I get it. She’s a keeper.”

Jaehyun grins, looking completely smitten. “You can bet I’m not letting her go.”

Yuta’s eyes light up when he realizes you know a bit of Japanese. You both slip into a quick conversation, leaving the rest of the group completely mesmerized.

“Uh, are we allowed to know what you two are saying?” Mark finally asks, looking between you and Yuta like he’s missing out on the most exclusive secret.

“Nothing all that exciting,” Taeyong replies for you, his tone a mix of intimidation and admiration as he glances at Jaehyun. “But, honestly? It’s impressive. Respect.”

Johnny leans back with a smirk, looking directly at you. “So let me get this straight—you cook, you’re funny, interesting, multilingual, and, no offense Jaehyun, you’re absolutely stunning. Are we sure he’s the one? I mean, if you ever start doubting or if things don’t work out, call me, yeah?”

You laugh, playing along. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the offer.”

Jaehyun shakes his head with a small laugh, his eyes softening as he leans down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Not even a chance I’d let that happen,” he murmurs, his voice firm but full of affection.

When you stand to grab dessert, the guys erupt into dramatic gestures of approval toward Jaehyun—thumbs up, silent cheers, all of it. You giggle, shaking your head as Taeyong gets up to help you clear the plates, following you to the kitchen.

“That’s really sweet, but you didn’t have to,” you say as he starts collecting dishes. “It’s the least I can do. I know what it’s like handling a big table like that.”

You laugh, teasing him. “Yeah, I guess you’re kind of the dad of a huge family.” He nods, chuckling. “But I can’t cook half as well as you. Honestly, I think you’ve stolen everyone’s hearts—and their stomachs—tonight.”

“Hmm, not sure I’ve won Jungwoo over yet, though.” Taeyong laughs softly. “Well, before you, it was him sharing a room with Jaehyun. Just a little case of jealousy—it’ll pass, don’t worry.”

In the living room, the guys can’t stop talking about you.“Where’d you even find her?” Mark asks, clearly amazed. “And do they have more in stock?” Johnny leans back, grinning. “Honestly, I get why you hid her from us for so long. If it were me, I’d move her to some remote cabin in the woods and never let anyone else see her.” Doyoung, never missing an opportunity to tease, smirks. “Dude, I hope you know she’s way too good for you.” Jaehyun just rolls his eyes, grinning smugly. “I knew she’d blow you guys away.”

Haechan squints dramatically. “Unless she’s secretly, like, an assassin or something. You know, using you as a cover story.” Jaehyun smirks. “She can use me for whatever she wants.” “Yup, there it is. You’re done for. Completely whipped and hopelessly in love,” Yuta laughs, shaking his head.

Jaehyun blushes slightly, his confidence slipping for just a moment. It’s obvious to everyone in the room just how head over heels he is for you.

You and Taeyong return to the table, carrying the cake and a stack of plates. The moment Jungwoo takes his first bite, his eyes widen, and he practically lights up.

“This is amazing! You have to tell me the recipe,” he gushes, showering you with compliments.

You smile, feeling a wave of pride. “I’d be happy to make another one just for you, Jungwoo.”

And with that, you’ve officially won over the last holdout at the table. Taeyong gives you a knowing wink, as if to say, Told you so. You grin back, proud of yourself.

Jaehyun, watching the whole thing, can’t help but marvel at you. Seeing you charm his friends so effortlessly makes his heart swell. Somehow, he feels like he’s falling even deeper in love with you—if that’s even possible.

As everyone moves to the living room to settle down with some tea, Jaehyun puts on a vinyl, letting soft music fill the air while the conversation flows. The guys start shuffling around, competing to make space for you to sit next to them, but Jaehyun steps in, cutting through their suggestions.

“You’ll be just fine right here.” His tone leaves no room for debate as he grabs your hand, guiding you gently. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

You settle in willingly, your arms sliding around his shoulders as his arm tightens protectively around your waist. His hand rests firmly on your hip, just above your thighs, his touch possessive but comforting.

You’re too wrapped up in the conversation with the guys to notice, but Jaehyun doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second. Watching you laugh, hearing your voice, and feeling you this close—it’s driving him crazy.

The self-control he’s been clinging to all night in front of his friends is wearing thin. His thoughts drift to everything he’s been wanting to do since he got home. He leans into your neck, burying his face in your hair as he breathes in your familiar scent, the one that he’s absolutely addicted to. A wave of desire hits him, and you feel his hand tighten on your hip as the muscles in his thighs tense beneath you.

You know what that means—your man wants you, and he’s done hiding it.

Yuta, who knows Jaehyun better than anyone, doesn’t miss a thing. He notices the shift in Jaehyun’s mood, how his mind has clearly left the room and wandered to other plans for the evening. With a knowing smirk, Yuta takes charge.

“I think it’s time we head out,” he says, signaling the end of the night.

Johnny takes your hand and kisses it lightly. “Dear Y/n, I speak for all of us when I say—please, don’t break our Jae. We’ve never seen him like this with anyone.”

You smile at the heartfelt declaration, warmth spreading through you. Looking over at your boyfriend, you catch him walking toward you with that familiar look in his eyes. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing against you like a puppy craving attention.

All he’s waiting for is for the door to close so he can sweep you off to his room and make sure every bit of your focus is on him—and him only.

“I promise, I’ll do my best,” you tease, giving him a playful smile.

The guys thank you once more before heading out, leaving the two of you alone.

-

On the way back, the guys chat excitedly about you, sharing their individual impressions. They all gush about what they loved—how effortlessly you fit in with Jaehyun and how glad they feel that their friend found someone like you. There’s one, however, who stays quiet.

“Taeyong, what did you think of her?” Yuta asks, a playful curiosity in his voice.

“I agree with you guys,” Taeyong replies, his tone soft. “She’s... unique.” Guys keep talking on.

But Doyoung, ever observant, notices Taeyong’s distant expression—his eyes unfocused, as though lost in thought. He starts to wonder if maybe one of them has been a little more taken by you than the others.

For the rest of the night, and even the days that follow, Taeyong can’t get you out of his mind. He finds himself replaying your interactions. And in his head, the same words keep echoing: It’s just a crush. It’ll pass…

-

As soon as the door shuts, Jaehyun’s lips are on yours like he’s been starving for days. Between each kiss, he whispers, “Thank you, my love, for tonight.” When his lips trail down to your neck, you take the chance to reply.

“It was my pleasure. I really loved meeting the guys. I’m so happy you introduced me to them.” “Hmm, yeah, but now I’m worried they’ll want to see you way too often.” You laugh softly. “What, afraid you’ll have to share?”

That’s when he pulls back slightly, just enough to look you in the eye, his expression darkening in the most delicious way. He presses you gently against the wall, his voice dropping. “I don’t share. Not when it comes to you. You’re mine. Completely.”

Your knees practically give out at the serious tone in his voice. Everything about him in this moment—his gaze, his touch, his entire presence—screams love and desire.

“I’m afraid you’ve made me selfish,” he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jawline. “And maybe a little too possessive.” You shiver at his words, at the heat they stir in you. “I’m sorry for that.” “Don’t be.” His voice is low and rough now. “But you’re gonna have to deal with it.”

“I think I can manage,” you whisper back, breathless. “Good,” he growls softly, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.

In no time, he’s carrying you to the bedroom, intent on showing you exactly how grateful he is for tonight—and how much he adores every little thing about you.

-

[sanguineterrain]

the teeth you know | dick grayson

Summary: The war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. When you fled Gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the Vampire King and the love of your life, Dick Grayson. You were wrong.

Pairing: vampire king!Dick Grayson x fem!reader. based on the dc vs vampires comics

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: smut!!! 18+ only. oral fem receiving, manipulation, romantic dick, me retconning whatever smarmy little bastard they wrote in dc vs vampires bc that is NOT my dick. dick is literally so gone for you, vampire king or not. themes of death, war, vampires killing humans. if i missed any warnings lmk!

happy almost halloween! follow your dreams and fuck that superhero turned vampire. it'll definitely fix them this time.

the divider

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

Tonight, you dream. 

You don't usually have good dreams. Not since this whole war began. Your dreams are filled with red. Always red, always terrifying. 

Except when he's in them.

The first few times it happened, you yelled at him for intruding on your subconscious. For warping your emotions and making you miss him. He'd laughed at that. 

You should look at yourself a little harder before blaming me. I just appear. You do all the dirty work of missing me, my love.

You're in Gotham in tonight's dream. The old Gotham, of course. Before any bastard undead creatures could suck the life out of your city. Before Dick Grayson haunted your dreams. 

You're on a rooftop ledge, legs dangling. You stare at the harbor. The city's wet from the rain and alive. So alive. You start to cry. 

"Oh, honey," he says, and you cry harder because he sounds exactly like the Dick you knew. 

He keeps his distance, sitting a few feet away. You refuse to look at him, because this is exactly how he gets you to miss him. Dick makes a soft noise when you scrub at your face.

"Have you been eating enough?" he asks, and he almost sounds tender. But you know better. "I'll track down a produce shipment, tell my men to intercept the boat for you."

"Fuck you," you say. "I don't take food out of people's mouths."

Dick edges closer. He feels big in your dreams, looming over you. 

"You wouldn't take food out of anyone's mouth. There's no longer a faction on the planet that requires all that food." 

Because the vampires have all but wiped humans out. You snarl. 

"Why can't you leave me alone?" you snap. "I know you're cruel, but the least you could do is let me dream in peace."

"Have I been cruel to you? I don't mean to be, sweetheart. I visit to check on you."

"Bullshit, Dick." Saying his name makes you shake. "You visit to manipulate me. I'm not going to give up my location, I'm not going to turn against my team, and I'm definitely never going to be your queen."

Dick is next to you on the roof ledge, now. He leans in and you stiffen at his eyes. You still aren't used to the absence of blue.

"Of course not. I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to," he says, hand slipping across your jaw. You immediately slap him away. He makes a displeased sound. 

"Why don't you find someone else to manipulate? I'm sure you've got countless minions who'd leap at the chance to be with you for eternity." 

"I don't want anyone else," he murmurs. "I've thought of nothing but you since we parted. I wish you hadn't run, my love. Things would be better if we were together, you’d see.”

"Hah. You used to be so much better at compartmentalizing, Grayson. Guess vampires aren't so good at controlling their own desires."

He laughs, tosses his head back. His fangs glint. Dick's smile is deceiving; underneath the charm, there's unimaginable power. Vampirism has treated him well: he's always filled out, lean with muscle, carrying an easy strength everywhere he goes. 

You, on the other hand, suffer from poor nutrition. You didn't sleep well before this mess; now, it's nearly impossible. 

(Except when Dick visits, you feel rested the next morning. You'd never admit such a thing to anybody, but it's the truth.) 

"Oh, sweetheart, but why would I bother controlling my desires now? There's no one stopping me from having what I want."

You stew in silence, turning away from him. Dick sighs. 

"What do you want, hm? Tell me. I'll give you anything." 

"I want you to free every human you're holding captive," you say. "And I want you and your people to stop this war."

"Such a golden heart," Dick says. "That's what I love about you. Always so good."

"You used to be good too," you shoot back bitterly. 

"No, I used to be obedient. There's a difference. I used to be Bruce's little, golden cow."

“He treated you well.”

“When I fell in line,” he says.

You fall quiet again. Dick scoots closer. You scoot away. 

"You know I've already let a few of the humans go. For you, honey. As a sign of goodwill. I'm not totally heartless, you know."

You roll your eyes. 

"Right. Well, us cattle don't find it merciful when we're sent out on our own to die, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't thank Your Highness on my knees."

"You are not cattle," Dick says fiercely. "Don't talk about yourself that way."

"My life is no less human and no more important than theirs," you say, temper flaring. "So, yes, I am."

"That's—"

You fall off the roof before he can say any more. Your stomach swoops similarly to how it would if you were awake. But then the stars bleed into the skyline, and there's a flash of golden light. 

And now you're in a bedroom. It's not one you recognize, richly decorated with golden accents and silk sheets and curtains. You'd almost mistake it for a room at Wayne Manor. 

"Now this is much better, don't you think? You're wearing my favorite color."

You look down and see that your pajamas have been swapped for a long, blood red, chiffon nightgown. It hugs every curve and dip of your body, the sleeves and collar trimmed in soft fur. The neckline is somewhat modest, but the fabric is totally see-through past your thighs. 

It's something a queen would wear. 

"Beautiful," Dick murmurs, voice rough. "Fuck, honey. This is the sort of thing you should wear all the time."

"Change me back," you demand. "I am not a doll for you to dress up, Dick."

"No, of course you're not. This is just a taste of how you'd live if you were with me, my love."

"I will never live with you. I'd rather die."

Dick hums, then draws closer. You back up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He prowls further, eyes sharp like he's hunting prey. Your pulse quickens and you have to remind yourself that this is just a dream. 

"What happened to us?" he asks softly. "I know that, at one point, you loved me."

"Yeah, that was before you turned into a monster. I loved a man." 

"I'm no more monster than any of the men you've known," Dick says. 

You scoff. "God, where'd you get that one? Jason?"

Dick smiles, and it almost looks human. "No, that was a Grayson original. And it's true. Man has never been good. You don't like me because now I drink a little blood?"

"I don't like you because you used to be good, and now you're not."

He hums. "I'm not all bad, my love. I can be subdued, tamed. You want me to be tame? I can be good for you. I can give you anything your heart desires. Our wants are the same.”

Dick eases you backwards onto the bed. You shouldn’t let him. Shouldn’t like the cold press of undead flesh against your heat. Shouldn’t like how he holds you, how convincing he sounds. You know your wants aren’t the same, that Dick is playing you, and you’re being easy.

But… but it's not like you'll ever see him for real again. No one will know. 

And God, it's been so long since anyone touched you. You pined for this, what seems like forever ago. Dick Grayson wanting you had felt impossible, until it wasn't… but by then, he'd become the very thing you'd sworn to hate. 

"This–” You swallow. “This isn’t right.” 

But your legs part for him to kneel between. 

"Tell me to stop and I will. I serve you first."

Dick hovers over you, hands planted on either side of your head. You're getting wet. You ache in more ways than one. 

"This is cruel," you whine.

"I don’t mean to be cruel,” he says gently. “Do you want me to stop, my love? My beautiful queen, who hasn’t been touched in so long. You’ve needed me, haven’t you?”

“Not–not your queen,” you say, panting, but you let him in, let him settle above you. 

“If you say so, my love," he says, nuzzling your neck. You tense even though he can't actually bite you. 

His fingers thread with yours. The position is unbearably intimate. You’d forgotten how romantic Dick was. How loving. Briefly, you wonder if he kept that through the shift.

It’s impossible, you insist as he kisses your jaw.

"You're a dream in red," he purrs. "I might prefer it to you in blue, but it's a close call."

"Your ego is ridiculous," you say, and Dick unlinks one hand to pet the apex of your thighs with two fingers. You're still clothed, and you're still dreaming, but the heat and pressure and slick feel so real. 

"The sounds you're making certainly don’t keep my ego in check," Dick says with a proud grin, fangs on display. 

Then he rips your underwear off, ducks between your legs, and licks you until you cry. 

You arch off the bed, and even in the dream, his strength is easy, one hand keeping you pressed to the bed. Dick pushes one of your legs up to get a deeper angle, moaning into your cunt. Your leg goes up easily even though in real life, it would pinch. You’re not as flexible as he is.

"Dickie," you cry, tears slipping down your cheeks because it's so good, it feels real, you wish this was real, wish you had him back. 

He nips your thighs, groans into your sex. Dick ruts the mattress, the first loss of control he's shown. It makes you wetter, knowing that he's so gone for you. It's sick to like such a thing, but you never stopped loving him, not really. You can't seem to reckon the man from the monster. 

You come hard on his tongue, and he keeps licking until you push him away. 

"You haven't been touched in ages, I bet," he says, lips shiny with your arousal. His eyes are a brighter red. His chest heaves. He looks hungrier than before he started.

"Been a bit busy,” you say when your brain comes back online. “End of humanity and all that."

His eyes go soft. You hate that he can still make that look. 

"Why are you so stubborn? Why won't you let me take care of you? You belong at my side."

You scowl. "I don't belong anywhere, Dick. Certainly nowhere near you."

His eyes glitter and he grabs you by your hips and kisses you. You let him, because you're absolutely pathetic and because you haven't been touched in ages.

Dick laughs against your mouth and peppers kisses on your throat before pulling away. 

"I'll send your team food. They won't even know it's me," he says, half-lidded. "My beloved queen. You'll never starve. I didn't know it was so bad."

"I am not your queen and I don't need your charity. In fact, you know what? I'm waking up. Right now."

Dick smiles, and kisses your hand. Then he gets off of the bed, and fixes his collar. He must be aching in his slacks, dream or not, but he straightens up like he has all the time in the world to fuck you. Like he knows you’ll be back.

"Of course, my love. Whatever you want. Till next time."

The dream fades from a golden bedroom to your dark, tiny hole of a room you've camped in for a few months. 

You turn your head and look at the clock. It's still late. 

Your thighs ache. Your mouth tingles where he kissed you. 

You swore to never pledge yourself to the Vampire King. But you never made any such promises about Dick Grayson.

[princessbrunette]

thinking about calling pogue!rafe over because your hot water isn’t working and he’s acting all annoyed but he’s lowkey kicking his feet at the fact that he gets to be in your home. maybe even asking him to stay after your shower so you can cook him something as a reward and play house for a bit 🩷🩷🩷

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

my favourite thing about pogue!rafe is that he acts soooo inconvenienced by your presence. he hates kooks, think they’re so stuck up — so he can’t help but feel to push you away. always referring to you as a ‘stuck up little girl’ whilst he’s only a couple of years older than you. he’d done some work on the house before, and whilst your parents are away you literally don’t know who to call to fix your hot water problem so you try him, pacing around your room.

at first during your call, he tells you he’s got a shit tonne of work to be doing on other houses and doesn’t have time to drop everything for a kook princess. he can practically see your little pout through the phone, but keeps up his attitude until you thank him for his time anyway, sadly throwing out a little “no, i understand it’s okay. i’ll probably just hit up that jj maybank. i heard he’s pretty handy.” and suddenly he’s changed his tune, physically sitting up from his slouched position to be all “shit, okay fine… fine. i’ll be there in twenty minutes just — just don’t call anyone else a’ight?”

he’s sulking when he turns up with his tool box and that muscle tank and shorts with paint and dirt on them — unable to stop sucking on your bottom lip because he’s just so big and strong. he’s ignoring your lustful gaze with everything in him as he walks through to your bathroom. “lets just get this out the way, yeah?” he drawls as he gets to work.

you sit on the sink and swing your legs, not leaving him alone as he works simply chatting his ear off, seemingly unphased by his blunt replies, finding creative ways to shut you down like reminding you “yeah, uh you’re my little sisters age.” however you seemed totally unscathed, only working harder to prove you’re grown enough to take him.

“should be workin’ fine now so uh… just wire me the money n’we’ll be good. doin’ overtime right now so i kinda just wanna go home.” he waves you off and you step infront of him.

“you’re finished working?”

“di’nt i just say that kid?” he drawls and you grin, dragging him to your lounge.

“perfect! look i really wanna thank you specially for bein’ so helpful to me even though it’s clear you don’t want to. let me cook you dinner. please? i got beer and uh… i’ll make it really good. oh please rafe, my parents are away and i’m all alone.”

he sighs like it tortures his whole being, but he couldn’t deny that your house was super nice — nicer to hang out in than his shitty little fishing shack that he calls a home. he’d heard the cops had been sniffing around for him wanting to talk about a little ‘altercation’ he recently wound up in and didn’t have the energy to deal with that. no one would suspect him in the kook princess headquarters.

he cracks open a beer and lounges on your couch watching tv as you prepare the food for him before sticking everything in the oven and heading upstairs to shower. he doesn’t notice your presence disappear until you’ve returned in the tiniest little night gown and damp hair, leading him to the dining room where you serve up his food.

“some real housewife shit, huh?” he can’t hold back his smile as you seat him infront of a hearty meal. you feel all warm at the implication, shrugging modestly.

it’s inevitable that you wind up in his lap after he’s eaten, having sat with him and flirted — leaning over the table with your tits practically spilling out. you can’t quite recall how you got there, in between telling him you had nothing on under the nightgown and him telling you that it wasn’t his fault that men had primal instincts or some shit like that — but soon he was pulling your dress up to your waist and stuffing himself inside you, roughly fucking up into you.

“oww, rafey!” you whine at how rough he’s being with you, not used to being treated like anything but a princess. he can tell it’s an act though, and you truly do love it from the way your walls contract around him.

“nah, nah you knew what you were doin’ inviting me here. what were — were you just sittin’ around with a fuckin’ wet pussy waitin’ on your moment to invite me round n’let you fuck on me? huh? that was this is?” he bucks his hips, holding onto you to completely take control from below, bashing you against the table with each thrust that was certain to leave bruises.

you whimper, pressing your body to his trying to win over some affection as you sniffle. “just got such a crush on you, rafe.” you mewl and he scoffs, taking that moment to pick you up in his lap and place you on the dining room table instead, gaining more control so he could keep rutting into you.

“sick’a you little kook girls tryn’a — tryn’a use me like im some little experiment that you can toss to the side afterwards.” he complains, gripping your hips and practically using you like a toy. if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be completely limp.

“dont want you with other girls! not — not gonna get rid of you i just want you.” you defend, and finally he slows his punishing pace to catch his breath, staring down at you analytically with parted lips, dick twitching inside you at the confession.

“that right?” he deadpans and you nod, teary eyed. “that why you let me in this princess cunt raw? huh? no protection or nothin’? just… just hoping i pull out? ha…” he chuckles maliciously, starting to push in deeper once more, upping his pace just a tad. “yeah… yeah maybe i should nut right in here—” he caresses your lower tummy making you whimper, completely at his mercy with your legs split. “knock up some kook pussy. won’t just be a phase then will i? nah baby… nah you’d be stuck with me for life.”

he’s got a sick smile on his face, but what he’s not expecting is for you to grip the back of his neck, your bottom lip wobbling with a serious look in your eyes. “do it.” you command and his face drops a little, realising that maybe he was dealing with a girl that had it bad for him. that, or you’re trying to get some sort of revenge on your parents. either option made his dick throb.

ೀ 🐰 ‧ ˚ 🪽 ⊹˚. ♡

[suzukiblu]

hi, question for you, have you ever experienced prolonged writer’s block before? do you happen to have any advice for getting a writing flow going again, that you’d be willing to share?

bc i don’t want to get too heavy in your asks, but between chronic illness/fatigue and longterm autistic burnout i haven’t been able to write a single word in several years now, and GOD am i tired of it. it’s like all the stories and words are stuck inside me and i can see it all in my head but the faucet is jammed and i just can’t get it OUT! i have been slowly feeling like the creative embers are maybe starting to spark again but it’s so hard not to get impatient with myself because it never seems to actually transfer to paper (or word document or notes app). any ideas or tips?

no pressure to answer this if you don’t want to of course, regardless i really enjoy your writing and i’m so glad that i can at least engage with fandom through other authors even when i can’t write my own stories! 💛

Oh god, yeah, I DEFINITELY have experienced that, hahasob. I have gone through at LEAST a year or two without, like, putting down a single word or even drawing anything, just total creative block/not there-ness. Like I feel u on that one, bud.

Good news: now if I write less than 2k in a day I think "oh that's kinda low, huh", so like . . . definitely "didn't write jack shit for [ INSERT TIME PERIOD HERE ]" has yet to sink me, and therefore fuck if it's gonna sink ANY of us. We persevere!!

So like, in my experience actually helpful writing advice is just SO wildly "you just gotta try shit 'til something works"-based that I'mma just give you a list made up of a bunch of, like, assorted tips and tricks that I use on myself to make my brain put words down when it's being stubborn about it, though different ones work at different times and obvi YMMV here anyway because for obvious reasons these are all approaches that I have tailored to my own needs, hah, and some of them are a bit facetious and some are also a bit heavy, but absolutely and unironically I reguarly use them all and they have all repeatedly worked for me.

Also, they're all gonna be goin' behind a cut because WOW there's actually a lot more of them than I realized I had, hahaha. The psychiatrist who recently used me as a case study told me I was very self-aware, so take from that what you will, friend.

Get up and do a chore/take a shower/eat a snack/literally just walk through a friggin' doorway, more often than not it'll at least make your brain reorient enough for you to realize you were just beating your head against a wall and need to do [ INSERT DAMAGE CONTROL/HARM REDUCTION BEHAVIOR HERE ].

Track your progress. Write to-do lists and cross shit off 'em. Keep track of your word count when you write; put it in a spreadsheet or a notebook or on a graph on your bulletin board.

Get a NEW way to track your progress. I currently use, like, three different "to-do list" apps to varying degrees in varying ways, not counting just my basic calendar app ( for the record: Finch, Structured, and just a generic notes app, but mostly Finch and Structured and seriously I CANNOT recommend Finch enough, go get yourself a bird buddy immediately. do you want a friend code, I will GIVE you a friend code, I think it gives you a bonus mini-pet or something if you use it. ), and also set myself MANY a phone alarm to remind myself of things that I need to do in case I space out or get distracted by somebody/something/the specific phase of the moon.

Did you take your meds? Take your fucking MEDS, self, good LORD.

Leave the house even if for literally, like, thirty seconds to just stand in some actual natural light. Or leave the house to go eat at a cafe or library or fast food place and just put yourself in a new environment for literally any length of time whatsoever.

Switch pens. Switch notebooks. Get a NEW notebook. Use your laptop instead. Use your PHONE instead. Get a nicer notebook. Get a shittier notebook. Use the scratch paper at work. Use the Procreate app on your friggin' iPad if you gotta, whatever, you do what you want!!

Don't write!!

Seriously just don't, go watch an actual scripted TV show or movie or read a book or a comic or some fic. Feed your brain something you didn't have to make up yourself.

Come up with a convoluted way to trick yourself into being accountable to someone else. Join a writing group. Make a Tumblr post about how you're gonna go write now. Ask Tumblr for their opinion on what you should write now. Ask Tumblr to spin this random wheel spinner game you generated and tell you what answer they got, and then write THAT.

HAVE you had a snack? Did you eat breakfast? Did you eat lunch? Did you remember to move around the house at any point whatsoever during the day? Maybe like, do that. Like, at least the snack part. Maybe a stretch or something wouldn't hurt either though.

Meal prep is so fucking useful and saves you SO much annoying time and also, like, makes you eat actual veggies and fruit and shit, genuinely actually works, the gym bros were not wrong, go figure. Also then you don't have to think about what you're gonna eat all the time and then cook it and then clean up and then--yeah anyway meal prep, god bless it. Once a week I make a batch of pasta salad and roast a pan of good-when-roasted veggies with like, garlic and salt and pepper and some olive oil and add bacon after, and then I portion it all into tupperware and in the morning I add spinach or crack an egg into that day's share of veggies for breakfast and maybe make some toast, and just grab one of the pasta salads whenever I want something lunch-like. It saves SO much time and distraction when you are hurting for free time/focus. So, SO much.

Unfortunately the gym bros were also correct about exercise, if that's doable for you. Exercise does in fact make you feel better and more energized and less depressed, fuck those guys for being right about that shit. Assuming you have enough iron in your blood to actually, like, do it, which admittedly I frequently do not, but the point stands.

Dude why are you even trying to write, you're so tired, go to bed and get up early, you write SO much better in the mornings anyway.

Hey, I know that's how you USED to write, but like, is that actually how you write right now? Is that actually even what works for you anymore? Actually maybe outlines COULD be helpful or maybe you don't need all those worldbuilding notes all at once; maybe your inner architect needs to let the building decay and go back to nature or maybe your inner gardener has developed a taste for trellises, metaphorically speaking and all.

Please eat something. Also please DRINK something. Like ideally water but we'll go for anything that involves a liquid, seriously.

Hey did you know actually if you ONLY eat instant ramen and microwave pizza you'll probably get scurvy and die instead of, like, writing your magnum opus? Like probably?? Put a fucking egg in that ramen, man! Slice up a scallion in that bitch!! EAT AN ACTUAL WHOLE FRUIT or at least, like, buy a smoothie with actual fruit involved somewhere in it on occasional. The whole fruit, unfortunately, is better. I like apples. Apples take a REAL long time to rot if I forget they exist for a couple weeks or whatever. But like, mango smoothies are also the shit, can't turn down a mango smoothie or a good strawberry-banana. Hey did you know the grocery store just, like, will let you just buy one single apple and they don't give a fuck? You're free! The cashier won't remember you in five minutes!! Buy your one single apple and work your way up to maybe two apples next time!! Also now I want an apple!!!!

Don't write. Don't write THAT. Write the other thing. No, the OTHER other thing. No, not THAT other other thing.

The rules are made up and the points don't matter.

Fuck it, we ball.

[ INSERT FULL-THROTTLE STIMMING BEHAVIOR HERE ]

Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic.

God, that's the weirdest fucking idea you've ever had, literally NO ONE but you would read it. So you should write 180k of it and also make it even weirder and yes it will absolutely be the one fic that just about everyone in MCU fandom who knows you exist knows you for, don't even worry about it, this isn't based on a true story at all.

Actually you could probably storyboard this scene to figure out wtf is happening here. Or like just draw literally anything related to this story, a bit of that might work some kinks out of the whole process.

Did you get that snack yet?

Hey go pet your dog, she's very soft and wants attention and also her OWN snack. Pet your dog and eat an apple and idk watch some anime or a weird niche documentary or an even more niche reality show, have you seen Deep-Fried Dynasty yet, it's on Hulu and was surprisingly engrossing.

Why are you even following the rules, we've been over this, they are made up and the points do NOT matter, and also you're not even getting graded for this anyway.

Yeah okay that thing you wrote sucked, but it turns out that Dean Koontz somehow has a writing career and also Twilight happened to all of us, so actually even the suckiest thing you ever write is gonna be better than the perfect ideal of the scene in your head, because the suckiest thing you ever write is something OTHER people can READ. And again: Dean Koontz has a career. Colleen HOOVER has a career. And fucking good for them, they're killing it, they are fucking WRITING!! Who gives a damn anyway, fix it in editing if you're that worried about it, they call it a rough draft for a reason.

Hey if that thing doesn't work you can just, like, delete it. Or rewrite it. Or stick it in your back pocket and do something else for a while. The sunk-cost fallacy is bullshit and you don't have to listen to it.

Maybe drink some more caffeine, that'll calm you down. [ DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE OF ADVICE TAILORED TO A PERSON WITH MORE ADHD THAN LITERALLY NINETY-FIVE PERCENT OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH ADHD; THAT PERCENTAGE IS ON THE ACTUAL LEGITIMATE DIAGNOSTIC PAPERWORK ]

Seriously you can just write anything you want, nobody can stop you. Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic enough that that's like, thirty-seventy odds at BEST.

God that idea is so niche and weird and niche, better tone it the fuck down to--oh wait no mass appeal means you're writing popcorn and literally no one will remember it in five minutes anyway, stop reflexively censoring yourself for some imaginary audience that will just chew straight through your one-size-fits-all story for The Content(tm) and then immediately move onto the next one without even bothering to hit "kudos" or remember anything about it later. I have written shit so weird that people still remember how weird I was TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER, man, and that is why literally anyone will EVER remember that you exist or wanna read your stuff or follow you to a new fandom where they don't even know the source material, fuck it, they'll wiki some shit. And also who cares anyway, it's YOUR stuff and YOU wanna read it. Your agnostically-possible god did not make you this weird and niche for no reason, don't pussy out now!!

Actually you can just write in the bath/on the bus/while waiting for your roommate to finish up with the guy running this estate sale. You've got your phone, right? Fuck it, pack a notebook. Pack an extra notebook. Pack a smaller notebook. Pack a BIGGER notebook.

It's not stupid if it works. You don't have to do what literally ANYONE else is doing, you just have to do what works.

You can literally just skip to the good part and write that, actually. Nobody's gonna throw you in writer-jail. What are we, cops?? Actually do you even need this lead-up here or do you just need to write this one specific blorbo gettin' laid REAL enthusiastically kinkily and/or maybe having a nervous breakdown sobfest over their perception of their personal self-worth and everything else is kinda just window dressing??

I mentioned the snack thing, right? Also sugar rushes are fake but sugar CRASHES are real so maybe be a little careful on that one, maybe buy some trail mix/jerky/smoked salmon, smoked salmon is SO good, smoked salmon is just objectively delicious.

Go talk somebody's ear off about what you're trying to write about. Bonus points if you can find somebody who matches your freak enough that you write, uhhhhh /checks smudged writing on wrist/ a 60k Overwatch fic in two weeks and also like 280k of Witcher fic in less than a year specifically because they're just a real good cheerleader. Wow. Wow that was a lot more Witcher fic than I was aware I had written. THE POINT IS LOOK FOR A WRITING BUDDY, WRITING BUDDIES ARE THE SHIT.

If the writing buddy doesn't work out though the first time I won NaNoWriMo I did it directly out of spite because someone said they didn't think I actually would. So like, spite is always an option, you can always keep that one on tap if you gotta.

Stephen King did not write "On Writing" because he didn't want you to write. Francesca Lia Block did not introduce you to the weirdest and gayest shit teenage!you had ever read so you'd grow up and be a fucking NORMIE about this shit. SIR TERRY PRATCHETT DID NOT WRITE LIKE SIXTEEN OF YOUR FAVORITE BOOKS OF ALL TIME BECAUSE HE DID NOT WANT YOU TO WRITE WHAT YOU WERE ACTUALLY FRICKIN' INTO.

Clean your room. No, better than that. Okay fuck it just set a ten-minute timer and do what you can in that time, we work with the spoons we've got.

Random number generator. Random color generator. Random "hey followers here's a very oblique poll, don't even worry about what it's about, just click a button please and thank you".

Did you know the internet will just GIVE you free graphs/trackers/bullet journal page designs and you can just print 'em out and do whatever the heck you want with 'em?? Yes my new little "color in the squares every day you do the thing" tracker IS just six daily writing tasks and two daily "just go pick some stuff up in this specific room" tasks and that is MY BUSINESS, MS. SIR AND MR. MADAM AND MX. [ INSERT BUZZER SOUND ]. And also, like, has done much better at getting me to do chores than anything else has in a minute, go fig.

You can actually just do whatever you want forever.

Literally, like just forever.

Fuck, how many times HAVE you done this? You'll never get better for good, it'll always go bad again, you'll always get sick again, you'll always get SAD again, you'll always fucking forget how to even DO this again and have to start all over.

Well yes, obviously, because you'll always have done it again. So do it again. One more time.

( seriously though did you take your meds-- )

[thatdeadaquarius]

GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)

Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-

The almighty all powerful wise creator isss

✨️A literal child✨️

Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️

Baby you taking on the world aw

DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/

Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,

Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-

I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲

☆

Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short Headcanons

Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment any I missed. /gen

Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.

You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀

Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child

if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you

and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)

(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)

You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes

it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest

(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)

Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food

She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3

They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you

(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)

Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol

Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…

Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you

Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out

Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol

she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her

(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)

SPEAKING OF BARBATOS

ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)

if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol

takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go

tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)

anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want

(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)

(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)

☆

srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)

and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭

I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)

hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Sigh sometimes the MQ and FX hate, while yeah I’m not gonna tell you how to feel about a certain character is just so…biased?

Like listen. The whole gist of MXTX characters is that they are ALL flawed and do things realistic humans would do. It just pisses me off that the characters do things that make sense with their flaws and struggles but people always justify XLs pain and mistakes while absolutely hating on the rest.

And also: it’s been stated that FX looked for XL. Like literally in the first book of the novel I believe. And MQ OBVIOUSLY THINKS XL IS MAD AT HIM AND HATES HIM WHY WOULD HE GO LOOK FOR HIM WHEN HE THINKS THAT?!

Yes Mu Qing left XL when he was struggling, yes it was shitty but also: his literal MOTHER was sick, HE also lost his country, Xianle wasn’t traumatic only for XL (obviously he went through lots of shit different from MQ and FX) but he ALSO lost his home, he watched his people die, he was bullied relentlessly and literally BELIEVED XL and FX didn’t like him but he still STUCK with them even after he was yelled at by the entire world he wasn’t enough.

MNQ as much as I find him hilarious, clearly takes every moment he can to dismiss MQ and make him feel bad about himself ever since he was 15. 15. Do you know what hearing that type of shit every day of your life can make you think? He has self esteem issues while being prideful bc he’s a human being and all humans contradict themselves people!!! He left to help his mother, and with the 33 gods scene OMG YEAH obviously it was bad but once again let’s take a look at what happened alright?

ALSO ALSO I’d like to add he probably thought FX and XL wouldn’t struggle that much, bc FX and XL have been pretty successful their whole life, he probably thought they didn’t need him to survive bc he’s been told they’ve always been leagues above him.

Anyway:

1. MQ sees the officials fighting XL.

2. MQ, gets asked to fight XL while XL asks him to side with him. He has struggled his whole life to be recognized, he does and becomes a lower court official, and now he’s caught between a rock and a hard place. (Is that the saying? English isn’t my first language oop)

He wants to help XL he so obviously does, but once again- he has been like a dehydrated person his entire life and now he gets a chance to have water- only for him to be given the choice to give it up for his friend. Was it selfish? Yes. But did it make sense? Obviously. AGAIN he’s been STRUGGLING his whole life- and like XL said at one point, why isn’t he allowed to think for himself just once? Plus even after having the offers of being a lower court official he waits and helps XL and his family for a long time until he leaves.

3. When XL says MQ is his friend (which btw- MQ had no idea about bc again, he has the entire world tell him since he was a TEEN that he has no right to be XLs friend and that he isn’t, and being a TEENAGER WHO HAS BEEN BULLIED BY HIS PEERS AND TEACHER (who btw isn’t supposed to talk shit about their students bc teachers are there to teach and be patient and such) HE BELIEVES IT BC ALSO AS MUCH AS I LOVE XL LETS BE REAL HE HASN’T DONE A LOT TO HELP HIM HAS HE????

(Tumblr deleted this part I hate everything why)

It said, yes while XL defended him that one time with MNQ when he was blamed about the whole entrance to the festival thing and later on with the bullies WHICH BTW has clearly been happening for a real long time) MQ has been reprimanded by the state preceptor since he was 15. FIFTEEN PEOPLE. Do you know what hearing that his hard work will never be enough compared to others, yo be bullied endlessly like that will do to a person?

He’s been struggling his whole life to be recognized for his work- he’s like a starving man finally being able to have some food- why wouldn’t he want to keep it that way? After he’s worked SO hard for SO long why wouldn’t he try and keep his head above water after drowning all his life?

Like LOOK what this kid goes through

Also before you comment on the “he himself wasn’t very likeable” have you ever heard of self defense mechanisms? MQ has shown to be quiet and rule abiding whenever people of higher class (which btw is practically everyone) have interacted with him, however when people have bullied him (which btw he has also shown to take quietly???) he has only sometimes defended himself. He’s always on guard- and he reacts when he thinks someone is blaming him or using his status to be prejudiced towards him. Of course he’d grow up thinking everything was a little jab- that everyone was against him, because growing up thats what he saw.

He is immediately defensive bc it’s what he had to learn to do to survive.

And MQ follows the rules because he has been taught to survive from a young age.

And even after he ascends MNQ is SO shitty to him, only showing us a bit of what MQ had to go through EVERY DAY as a TEEN. XL never took his guoshi and was like “hey man can you please not bully this guy so much? Please don’t be so prejudiced towards him.”

He doesn’t. And again, thats bc XLs flaw at that time is he doesn’t know what others struggle with since he’s been successful and pampered his whole life, obviously he wouldn’t think about that at the time which is a flaw- just like MQ has flaws as well and acts accordingly.

AND AND it also says he’s been struggling in heaven as well.

And look at that. Much more difficult. Much more? That implies he had been having it hard enough before. Guys he was STRUGGLING OF COURSE HED TRY AND SAVE HIMSELF OH MY GOD

Anyway- he takes a step forward and clearly looks torn. We don’t know what he was going to do- but if he truly hated XL he could’ve easily beat him up. It’s until an asshole literally brings up, once again, something MQ has been bullied, self conscious about since he was a kid that MQ becomes mad- and it triggers him to side with the officials- but also give XL a small mercy. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he do it with malice? No.

MQ thought he was doing the right thing. MQ has always done what’s best for him to survive bc he was raised in a family where not only where they poor, but his father was a criminal. Obviously he had to learn young to think about himself. Obviously he was selfish at that point because he finally was able to show his worth.

ALSO HIS MOTHER PROBABLY DIED IN THE TIME-SKIP HE WAS PROBABLY GRIEVING TOO OH MY GOD

AND ALSO PEER PRESSURE? THAT WAS CLEARLY PEER PRESSURE AND MQ CAVED UNDER IT BC HES HAS ISSUES OH MY GOD.

Sorry anyway let’s keep going.

Afterwards yes. He lets XL get pushed, he sees him run away. But again, this is what MQ thought was helping. He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was helping in his own way.

Can we also add, maybe he didn’t want to fight XL? Maybe he didn’t want it to keep escalating bc if it did it would mean beating XL up?

Even after the others goad him, MQ never touches XL. He could’ve hit him, he could’ve beaten him up and unloaded years of prejudice from everyone (including XL accidentally being classist- he doesn’t do it on purpose of course but there have been moments when XL accidentally just never lets poor MQ ignore the divide between them)

(Let’s add crossing the line is such a good song for the two of them omg)

And while selfish he chose himself- he has been choosing XL all his life, hasn’t he? Hes stood by him- why isn’t he allowed think of himself once? Why can’t he want to be successful, to be happy for once to have himself be acknowledged?

Am I saying what he did was good? No. But it makes sense for him and I’m not going to demonize a person who has clearly been struggling with self worth issues, being bullied and told all his hard work meant nothing who chooses to think of himself for once.

And then even after that happens MQ CHASES AFTER HIM. Yes he doesn’t help him, but chasing after him? The officials probably saw that and given the assholes they were probably shit talked him about that later.

MQ didn’t have to go after him but he did. He did.

Late? Yes. But he still did it.

And even so he later also admits he did it so he could help them out- SO BEING AN OFFICIAL ALSO WASN’T A SELFISH ACT- he wanted to use it to help his friends as well

PLUS ITS EVEN SAID BY HIM HE ALSO DID IT TO HELP XL AND FX 😭

Anyway he helps XL up and then apologizes. MQ apologizes.

People say him justifying his actions by comparing it to XLs robbery is not the same and doesn’t compare but uh-

XL robbed someone because yes, he didn’t have a choice, and he didn’t do it because he liked it. It went against his beliefs and morals bc he had to survive.

MQ didn’t help XL bc he was also struggling in heaven with the officials, and he clearly wants to help XL and doesn’t like it, but does something that goes against his beliefs and morals because he had to survive.

And afterwards- he goes and does something that heavenly officials can’t do. He gives them gifts. Which FX states that is dangerous and they can’t do.

MQ does risk himself for XL- yes it’s late. But he risks his skin for XL. He clearly didn’t think things would be so bad for them- he clearly thought they’d be better off because again ITS WHAT HES BEEN TOLD HIS ENTIRE LIFE.

And then again- he apologizes.

He has had time to think- has had time to meditate away from everyone else. He has realized he was wrong. He realized he fucked up and goes to make up for it.

He made a mistake. He had no reason to do that, to give them food and then offer to give them medicine- but he still did.

And I am so sorry, but it seems hypocritical of everyone else to justify XLs actions because of his struggles, pain and grief- when while yeah, MQ didn’t go though the same he still suffered, he still went through his struggles and pain.

I love XL but how come HE can act according to his feelings and pain and afterwards be forgiven but MQ can’t?

XL made mistakes because the world drove him to it- because of what he went through and suffered.

MQ also made mistakes because the world drove him to it and he had suffered too.

Again, they’re not in the same scale- but the justification of the actions is the same.

They were both driven to something and the actions they took were based on what happened to them. Then they realize their mistake and make up for it.

Phew anyway sorry for the rant it’s just. It hurts me to see characters not being treated the same- to be hated because of their flaws when the MCs get to have everything justified and ignored.

MXTX again, shows characters can make mistakes and have flaws. Hua Cheng is forgiven for his. Xie Lian is forgiven for his.

Why can’t Mu Qing’s be as well? He certainly made up for it by almost dying and having a cursed shackle didn’t he?

He’s been thinking his whole life XL didn’t like him. He fully believes it. And he does actions that are selfish- yes but he didn’t do with the intention of hurting XL on purpose.

And then when he thinks XL is being kidnapped and stalked (which lets be clear he wasn’t but for MQ and FXs POV it is lmao) by someone who has also KILLED OFFICIALS, plus is known to be manipulative and kind of crazy, get close to XL he does his best to help him??!

Like we do think it’s wrong because we have the context of everything XL and HC went through together- but MQ and FX dont.

Guys, if your friend was hanging out with a criminal who has killed your co workers, appears as if they’ve been stalking them and then have a whole place set on idolizing them (which yes I know the cave of 10k gods is a religious practice and I have defended HC from people who say it’s creepy, I’m just giving the POV from MQ bc why would a ghost king worship a god? In universe it would be confusing and for them be creepy) wouldn’t you be worried too? Hello!!! From their POV this is a horror movie 😭😭😭

Anyway I’ll cut this rant here. I’ve been wanting to do a whole thing analyzing both MQ and FX and this doesn’t even come close to everything I want to say but I’ve tapped to much.

It’s fine to not like them. However don’t shit on other people and demonize them completely without understanding their story and why they were written that way.

If y’all wanna talk about this more my asks are open 😌💕

[storiesaplenty]

Part 7

The Pitt Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy, though. This has not been proofread. Please enjoy, though.

Warnings: a bit of swearing. Unplanned pregnancy.

WC: 1389

©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work. All readers are female, unless stated otherwise.

A few months ago, Dr Whitaker had a one night stand, not knowing she was the daughter of Dr Robby.

"I thought I lost you today, and I couldn't imagine my life without you in it now. I can't keep lying to myself anymore about how I feel. I love you." I told her.

I could see what I said sink into her mind, as she shook her head no, and pulled my hands from her face.

"Dennis, you were only concerned about the babies." She said to me as she turned to walk into our home.

It was my turn to shake my head no at her, as I followed her inside, closing the door behind me.

"Will you listen to me? Will you face me?" I waited for her to face me.

"You were the first thought I had when I heard about the shooting. I love the two of them, but do not think like that. I was concerned about you, because guess what, I love you."

"Dennis, you hardly know me." She tried to say, but I had enough of this.

"I know your favourite colour. Your favourite food, snack, song, artist. The list goes on. I know you would rather be home than go out. That when you are excited about something, your eyes just light up and you can not stop talking about it. Like when you found the exact dresser you wanted for your bedroom."

"Dennis," I interrupted her, needing her to understand how I truly feel about her.

"I love you, and I have since I literally laid my eyes on you all those months ago."

I waited for her to say something, anything, but she just looked at the floor, and walked away, leaving me standing there, dumbfounded.

◇

Her and I didn't spend the night together watching tv like we usually do.

She fended for herself for dinner, just like I did.

I was just about to get into bed, when I heard a knock on the door.

I looked at it, contemplating if I should open it or not, but then she knocked again, this time a bit more soft.

So soft in fact, that if I wasn't paying attention I most likely would have missed it.

I opened the door, and she looked right into my eyes.

"Dennis, may we talk?" She asked me, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her large shirt she is wearing to bed.

"Of course." I stepped aside, for her to come into my room. She sat on the edge of the bed.

I pulled up the desk chair and sat down in front of her so we were facing one another.

"I am sorry I walked away. I just didn't know what to say."

I reached out to grab her hands that are now in her lap.

"I get it, and I am okay with you not having feelings for me." I wasn't but I wasn't going to push her.

"The thing is Dennis, I do have feelings for you, and that is what scares me. I don't do relationships." She has told me that before.

"It is okay to be scared. It really is, and look we can always go back to how it was between us." I gently said, even though I wanted nothing more than to kiss her after finally admitting she has feelings for me.

"I just want to explain to you why I am like this. The reason why I don't do relationships." She took a deep breath.

"You know my Mom isn't in the picture, and I was raised by my Dad." I nodded my head yes, knowing that bit.

"My mom cheated on my Dad with her coworker. Well, a couple of them. My parents weren't married, but my Dad was going to propose to her. She gave up her parental rights and I haven't seen her since. My Dad was willing to work it out with her, but she just told him no, and packed up her stuff and left. I watched my father slowly break because of a woman who said she loved him. I watched him become a shell of what he used to be for a long time."

"I am not like your mom. I'm not going anywhere." I told her.

"I have never been in a relationship as I always shut down anyone who has shown romantic feelings towards me, so this is all new to me."

"I am not going to push you. If you want to go back to the way it was between us, I am more than okay with that."

"You are very sweet Dennis, but I want us to try being together. I have fallen for you, and I have fallen for you hard." She said the last part softly.

"I would like that very much. Look, even though this is sort of starting backwards, let me take you on a date. You deserve to be treated the right way." I have had our first date planned out for months, hoping one day she would say yes to actually going out with me.

"I would like that."

Her and I talked a bit more until I noticed she was fighting to keep her eyes open. She went to her bedroom, and I laid down in my bed, trying to fall asleep after the day I had.

◇

It has been a couple of days since our talk, and tomorrow night is the night where I will be taking her out.

I knew she wanted to try Vallozzi's, so I surprised her with dinner reservations.

I was hours into my shift, talking to a man who had come in by ambulance with a broken arm, who was waiting for an x-ray to be done.

I was just finished telling them that once we have the results, then we figure out if he needs surgery or not when a new patient caught my eye.

"I'm fine, I swear I am fine." I heard him say.

"Ken." I called out his name, and my brother turned his head at the sound of his name being called in the city.

"You know this man Dr Whitaker?" Mateo asked.

"I do, now what seems to be the issue?"

"He was crossing the street, and was hit by a car who tried to slow down, but she hit him."

"Put him in room 5." Dana told them, and they did as she said, as I walked behind them.

I looked him over, and he was very lucky. He has a few bumps and bruises, and a few stitches he will need. Did tests to see if there was any internal bleeding, but nothing.

I was just starting to stitch when I asked him why he was in Pittsburg.

"Got a job offer, was here for the interview."

"Did you take it?" I asked him, knowing how much he wanted to leave our small town.

"I did. It was pretty much mine, but this was just for formaladies." He said as he hissed through the pain. These are not his first stitches, and most likely won't be his last.

"How's the family?" I finally asked.

"They are good. Not happy about me moving away, but we both know that place isn't for me." He was right, as he has always wanted out of there.

"I hear I am going to be an uncle again. Congratulations."

"Thank you, it is exciting. Twins." I went onto the next stitch as I finished up the first one.

"I mean, one of us was bound to have twins. When do I get to meet the lucky woman?" Ken questioned. I became heistant, but I had no reason to be.

"She is meeting me here after my shift, if you would like to stick around."

"I am staying at the Cambria Hotel. Not far from here. Come by for dinner. My treat."

"I'll let her know, but you're done here." I let him know how to take care of his wounds and stitches.

Ken left the hospital, and I took a moment to call her.

I told her that my brother was in town, and he wants to meet her, and is offering us dinner.

"I will be there. I will bring you a change of clothes." I thanked her, even though I am nervous about this.

Something felt off, and I just couldn't shake it.

Part 6 ♡ Part 8

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 3

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 1426

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

JAKE POV - (One Year Ago)

He can’t stop watching you. Smiling, laughing, serving customers caffeinated beverages on their way to work. The sunlight streams through the front glass window of the cafe, the rays illuminating everything of you that they reach. Your hair, your eyes, your skin. You’re bright, happy, healthy, stunning, and it does unreasonable things to his heart.

He’s been sitting there for two hours now, not even pretending to occupy himself with a magazine or newspaper or anything that will make him less conspicuous. You’re the only thing that has his attention. The only thing that ever has his attention when he comes to this world. He spends this time, each second of it, observing your every move, memorizing every feature of your face, and when you leave for the day, he follows. Just so he can be a little bit closer to you.

You’ve never noticed him, and sometimes he chuckles at your lack of awareness and how well it works in his favor. You have no idea that he trails you from the cafe to your apartment. You have no idea that he stands outside your building as night cloaks the day. You have no idea that he leans against the same lamppost he always does when he comes to see you, his stare latched on to your window—third floor, second from the left—as you strip yourself of your uniform and into your pajamas. He’d watch forever if he could, but he, and those like him, do not have that luxury. 

The hand that lands on Jake’s shoulder is expected and he turns his head to his friend. 

“Time to go,” Javy says. “In a month you can come back and stalk her some more, but we’re cutting it close. We have to get back.”

Jake sighs, giving your bedroom window another glance. The light clicks off. “I know.”

“She’s not going anywhere. I’ve kept an eye on her in your absence and she’s had the same routine for the last six months,” Javy reminds him as he rolls his shoulders, preparing for the weight of his wings to return. 

Cartilage and bone materialize as his gray feathers, one by one, seek him out from the spot he had shed them. Each one returns to their place, layering themselves together until his wings are fully reformed. 

Javy gives them a testing flap, scattering the fallen leaves at their feet. When he sees Jake has yet to call for his own wings, he huffs. “Seriously, it’s eleven fifty-six. Do you really want to spend six months in The Tower because you chose to stare at your little girlfriend rather than be punctual…again? You literally just got out.”

Jake stands from his leaned position and a moment later his black feathers find him. He spreads his wings out in a stretch. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Javy says with pride. “So let’s go.” Then he’s shooting up into the night, a speck in the darkened sky. 

Jake takes one last look at your window, imagining himself in that apartment, holding you, kissing you, falling asleep beside you. He doesn’t want to leave you behind. Leaving you behind is leaving a part of his heart behind. But he has to do it. For the night, you’re warm and safe tucked in your bed, and that will have to be enough for him until his return next month.

“Good night, Angel,” he mutters. “Sleep well.” Then he follows after his friend.

—

Food everywhere. Grapes smashed in between the stones of the walls; plums dotting the floor, one having rolled under the bed; juice from apple slices staining the rumpled bedsheets; the silver tray, now dented in the middle, thrown across the room. All as if some bratty tornado tore through the place. Except now the brat is missing. 

He’d guessed you would struggle to stay put once you regained enough of your energy, which is exactly why he'd planned to sit by your bed while you slept. But—albeit very reluctantly—he had listened to Javy’s advice about giving you some space for the night. A mistake, clearly, because now he has to hunt his little escapee down.

Shaking his head, Jake rubs the back of his neck and gives the room one last scan in case you got the bright idea to hide until he got close enough for you to whack him in the skull with something hard. When the assault doesn’t come, he jogs to the window and peers through it the way you were when he found you standing there the other day, your pearly wings in all their grandness cascading gracefully from your back. 

Glancing to the nearby field many stories below, he spots you seated in the grass with your knees tucked to your chest. His pounding heart stutters in relief.

How the fuck did you get out, Angel? he thinks as he hurries from the room, down the multiple twisting staircases, and through the maze of halls. You’re the last person who should have the ability to leave this place. New residents of The Tower have been known to roam the halls for months at a time, trying to find a way out until they surrender to exhaustion and return to their rooms, and yet you walked right out the front door?

When he reaches the main floor, he stops short at the silhouetted figure leaning against the doorframe. He knows that figure well, and realizing that someone he trusts has been keeping an eye on you from a reasonable distance permits Jake to take a calming breath before he steps closer. 

“She’s…content, I think,” Javy says, tucking back his large gray wings to provide enough space for Jake to comfortably stand beside him. “Doesn’t seem to want to run off.”

“Only because she doesn’t know where to go,” Jake sighs, running his fingers through his hair. And thank fuck for that. “How long has she been out here?”

“At least since four. That's when I found her,” Javy informs him. He looks at Jake, playfully grinning. “We watched the sunrise together.”

“Has she seen you?”

“No. She hasn’t so much as turned her head in hours,” he answers, then after a pause of consideration, says, “How do you think she managed to make it out on her first try?”

Jake shakes his head. He has that very same question. Anyone would. “I don’t know, but had I known she could, I would have locked the damn door.”

“Maybe The Tower felt bad for her,” Javy suggests. “You know she always made it easy for the unfairly imprisoned.”

Unfairly imprisoned. Yes, Jake supposes that is what you are. But it’s not for forever, and it’s simply to protect you while you adjust to your new life by his side. Surely, you can understand that. And then you can start accepting the happiness and love you’re denying yourself. 

“She fucking scared me,” Jake says, and Javy snickers.

“Then I imagine you're even.”

“She's not scared of me, she just has to get used to me.” Jake watches the gust of air flutter your feathers. You still haven’t moved, save for one hand's fingers which continuously weave through the blades of grass. “She's taking her damn time though.”

“Don't be unfair. She's known you for a couple of weeks—a couple of very difficult weeks—which is nothing compared to the head start you had.” Also true, to Jake’s dislike. But he’s shown you how much he cares, and that should be plenty to help you catch up. Then Javy says, “You should take her back. Just for a few hours.”

Jake’s head snaps to the right, eyes just short of bugging from his head. “Are you insane?”

Javy shrugs. “The day is coming up. It might be easier for her to be here with you if she knows she has the option to visit her world.”   

“That’s not her world anymore.” 

“True,” Javy agrees. “But don't you miss seeing her smile?”

Jake swallows. He’d give anything to see you smile again; smile at him again. Though he was gifted one when he was deep inside of you, praising you, telling you how beautiful you were, offering the same compliment since he brought you here has not elicited the same reaction. If anything, you frown more intensely, with more effort. 

“It's too soon,” Jake says. “She's still attached, and I can't trust her.”

“It's more important that she trusts you,” Javy counters. “And this could be your olive branch, my friend.”

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @fandom-life-12 @hookslove1592 @buckysteveloki-me

[bahrtofane]

matching pjs

Aurélien is just attched to you, literally. stay the night, please?

word count - 1K+

watch it - flulff and fluff and more. loosing my mind here yall this is what a blurry vid does to me

-----

Aurélien has decided that communication is a thing of the past

Don't look at him like that he doesnt wanna hear it. Instead he'll just cozy up to you and trust your instincts to be able to tell what he means.

You don't have it in you to move him aside from his perch glued against you. In full honesty it's rather cute. I mean just look at him, face pressed up against your shoulder while he watches the highlights that play on the living room tv. Hes quite literally pressed up right against you to the point where you can hear every breath he takes. You don't mind, not one bit. 

You showed up not even a full 30 minutes ago, supposed to only stop by to see him before you head to your own home. But seeing as the fluffy oversized blankets have been brought out, you dont think youre going to leave anytime soon.

He shuffles from under the blanket, finding your arm and intertwining his with it, linking hands together. He uses his thumb to trace against your skin, humming softly while his eyes follow the Brazilian team in front of him. 

He hasn't said more than the greeting you got when you walked in. kicking your shoes off and stealing a pair of his slides. Your bag is somewhere, you think in the other living room. It's fine. 

He's been meaning to organize his phone layout, so he handed it over to you when you got cozy on the couch. It's what you've been doing besides giving him kisses. A sleek black and white layout fits him you think, so it's what you've chosen to chip away at.

The widgets are all done, just organizing them now. You make a picture of the both of you at the Bernabeu front and center, smiling while leaning against each other. It makes you smile, blowing air from your nose. 

He peeks over at this, and you tilt the phone. He gives you a nod, resting back on your shoulder.

You get done soon enough. Just 2 pages filled with his most used and essential apps. You've done good work. 

You slide the phone onto his lap, and he peppers the back of your neck in kisses as thanks. 

The highlights have ended now. And he slides from you just an inch to fish for the remote that's gone somewhere. He sighs, brows furrowing and heaving himself off the couch grumbling. You get up with him to help look. 

You find it nestled between two cushions, handing it to him while he gives you a soft look.  

“I think it time for me to head home now.” you sigh.

He pouts, reaching for your hands. You give them, and he gives them a gentle tug.

“I know, but it's getting late and i didnt even bring anything.”

Another pout as he comes closer, biting his lips.

Oh no no no you are not falling for this. He blinks, tilting his head. Youre so gone for him. 

“Please?” his lips part, barely a whisper.

“Fine,” you groan, bringing him for a quick peek. 

He chuckles, padding over to where it looks like dinners been sitting.

“I was um waiting for you to eat.” he scratches the back of his head.

“You should've told me chuchu.”

The nickname makes him look away and instead goes to warm the food while you take a seat at the dinner table, watching him glide around the kitchen.

“Hope you like fish.”

You shrug,”i like anything with you”

He laughs,” you're a sap today.”

“Says you mr I'm going to glue myself against me.”

He waves you off with a spatula, “youre warm what am i supposed to do.”

“Nothing. I like it. It's cute.”

He hums, “potatoes or asparagus. Or both.”

“Both.”

He nods, getting the plates out. 

You drum against the table. 

He sets two steaming plates down and scurries back over for silverware and cups. 

“There you go. “ he sits in the seat across from you, smiling.

“Thank you.”

You eat in relative silence, giggling here and there when he keeps poking leg with yours. 

You offer to do the dishes, which he refuses, but you don't care, racing to the kitchen and cleaning up while he mopes. 

“You can never just relax here huh.”

You shrug, “I want to help out sue me.”

He flicks your arm but lets you go. Going to do his rounds for the night. Feeding his dog checking the locks and cameras and what not. 

He comes back to a sparkling kitchen, food tucked away. You end up finding your bag, slinging over your shoulder while you follow him to bed. 

“I got sweats and t-shirts and pjs for you, take your pick,” he opens his closet for you.

“Don't mind if i do.”

He lets you get changed, going to the bathroom and doing his little routine. 

Your clothes are folded on a shelf in his closet when he gets back. And he's comfy cozy in his pjs. Funny enough you end up with matching pj bottoms. Classic plaid. 

He laughs, “great minds think alike.”

“They really do,” you nod.

You set your alarms for the next morning, plugging your phone in and setting it on his night stand. He mirrors you, doing a last check of his emails and texts. 

“You know the theme is really nice i like the black and white. “

You smile. “Thought you'd like it. I was thinking of all black but it suits you more like this i think.”

He hums, “gonna stay for breakfast?”

You shrug, “probably, you know i suck at saying no to you.”

‘Nah you just love me too much.”

You snort, “that too.”

You slide into bed together, tucking the covers under your chin while you sigh. Waiting for him to slide up beside you, which he does in no time. 

“Thank you for staying. Sleep well love, good night.” he gives you a soft kiss. 

“Mhm,” you mumble against his lips. “Anytime pretty boy. Love you”

You're about to have the best sleep of your life.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being upset that my boyfriend of 3 years doesn't remember our anniversary even though i know he has adhd? ☕️☕️

I (26 W) have been dating my partner (32 M) for over 3 years now. He is officially diagnosed with ADHD and I am currently waiting for my own diagnosis for ADHD. He got diagnosed shortly before we got together and he has opened to me about how insecure he is over his disabilities causing a rift between us since all his previous relationships end with his partners leaving after they "get tired of dealing with his issues" because he also has autism and has been rude before in regards to my weight despite knowing that i am recovered from an eating disorder and this is the context in which his insecurities were disclosed to me. I also don't mean rude like accidentally, he literally put his hands on my stomach and said "what is this" after we had already had several Big Fights in regards to his previously rude behavior. For further context, I told him on our second date that I have a strict boundary around food and my weight and would appreciate it if he kept comments about my body weight or how much i eat to himself because it's triggering for me.

I try to be mindful of his limitations but recently, he asked me if he had forgotten our anniversary. This wouldn't bother me as much if it wasn't our third anniversary coming up in a couple of weeks and if I hadn't repeatedly told me over our time together the exact date of our anniversary. Now, I don't expect him to remember dates off the top of his head. I struggle with that information myself but what I DO hold against him is the fact that he KNOWS he forgets things and doesnt make ANY effort to have a failsafe against that. I put everything in my phone and he WORKS in tech so he knows how easy it is to set a repeat event with reminders nowadays so I don't understand why he can't just fucking figure out how to remember our anniversary without constantly making me be the one to remind him. I have told him exactly this and asked him why he didn't write it down over the last 3 years if he knows he's bad with dates. he said "that's a good point" and that was that. Now, he keeps trying to manipulate the information out of me by asking me when I'm like half asleep because he "thought i might slip up and just tell him."

Am I in the wrong for being mad over this? it feels like he doesn't care enough to do the bare minimum of being in a relationship with another person. I've dated others before with ADHD and it's never been a fucking issue before for them to remember our anniversary. I myself put in the effort when I care about someone to do the bare minimum and write down information I want to remember about someone. I just don't understand why I feel so guilty over getting mad about this when I feel like I have every right to be upset because it's not like I haven't been forthcoming before, it's not like i haven't repeatedly told him over the years and he puts in birthdays to his calendar so like why doesn't he care enough to put our anniversary into it? He wants to marry me but I dont want to spend the rest of my life reminding him to care enough about me to remember things like my birthday, our anniversary or my eating disorder.

But I also know that expecting people with ADHD to remember things is kind of an ableist move and I don't want to start an argument where I'm being a dick to his disabilities. So WIBTA if I decided to make this into a big deal because it is for me knowing my partner has ADHD and cannot help being so forgetful all the time?

What are these acronyms?

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Turn - A Pedrotober Drabble

Day 11 of Pedrotober: Any Max Pedrotober hosted by @norththelemon and @alyssamariag. View the full prompt list HERE and view my entire Pedrotober drabble catalog HERE.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E because I apparently can't write anything non-explicit with this man. Unprotected p in v, brief mention of oral (f receiving), fingering.

Word Count: 1810

a/n: This is a No Outbreak AU because we like to live happily with Joel Miller as if nothing bad ever happened ever. a/n: I legitimately blacked out with this one. Completely. Originally I was going to write a cute little fic about Mr. Ben and the next thing I know this was on the page. Yes, a Max is involved here. You'll see. I offer this again to the wives of Joel Miller. I hope it holds you over until the wolf thing.

"I do not like horror movies, Joel."

He's been insistent all day. Horror movies, he has so proclaimed, are a Miller family tradition on Halloween, but you'll have nothing of it. They freak you out, with their gore and their jump scares and their monsters. Half the time the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park were enough for you to lose sleep, and now he wanted you to watch something with vampires?

"It's not that bad. It's barely horror at all, actually," he assures you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. You have to admit that his tactics are starting to wear you down, from the way he'd crawled under the covers the second you'd woken up to the way he was pressed against your back now.

Still, you shook your head. "It's not happening."

"Come on," Sarah moans from her place at the kitchen table. "He's not kidding. It's literally not even scary."

"Scary is a relative term," you insist, trying your best to ignore the way Joel's hands are teasing the skin beneath the t-shirt you're wearing. "I just never understood the hype. Why would I want to watch people get eaten alive?"

Sarah looks over at you both with exasperated eyes. "They're not being eaten alive, they're being turned." Apparently, she's the foremost authority on vampire terminology now.

"She's right," Joel mutters against the back of your head, pressing a kiss to your hair before stepping away to lean against the table, joining his daughter in a united front to convince you.

"It has the actor you like in it," Sarah emphasizes. This causes you to turn to look at her with narrowed eyes. She's smiling widely, ignoring her dad when he asks her what actor she's talking about, his own gaze flickering back and forth between the two of you as he tries to work out the secret you two seemingly share.

You sigh. "It's not scary at all?"

Sarah shakes her head. "Nope. I mean, there's some blood. Okay, a lot of blood. But it isn't scary, I promise."

You continue to contemplate for a moment, weighing your options. You know this is important to them, to Sarah specifically, and you want to be part of the traditions they're sharing with you. And it is just one movie. "Fine," you agree, and you know you've made the right decision when Sarah jumps up to hug you tightly.

Joel, however, remains where he is at the table, still trying to work something out in his head as Sarah rushes to the living room to start up the DVD player. You follow a moment later with your food, pressing a kiss to Joel's cheek as you pass to follow his daughter.

"Wait," he calls after you, "what actor?"

~

You have to admit, they were right. The movie isn't all that bad. Sure, it leaves you questioning why Joel allowed his daughter to watch this, but you also can't complain about the way his arm is wrapped around your shoulders, securing you to his side any time the gore becomes a bit too much. Plus, seeing your favorite actor play a cocky businessman named Max sort of makes it all worth it. He's younger here than you're used to seeing him, and clean-shaven. Still undeniably handsome, but it does make you grateful for the scruff of Joel's jaw when you hide your face against it.

You're somewhere in the middle of the film when you catch Sarah continuously checking her phone. "You gonna put that away?" Joel huffs from beside you because of course he's noticed too.

"My friends are having a sleepover and asked if I wanted to come," she explains, still frantically typing away on the screen. Your eyes fall back to Max, letting the scene between Joel and Sarah play out while you're distracted. Truthfully, you're unsure why you didn't watch this sooner.

"Hey," Joel nuzzles the side of your head, his hand running down to your waist and pulling you from the trance you've fallen into. "You still with me?"

The movie is nearing its climax, and you know already that you're about to watch yet another death scene from the man on screen. "Yeah," you whisper unconvincingly.

He shifts slightly, "I don't believe you." His breath is hot against you ear, and you whimper slightly when his lips trace down to your neck.

"Sarah," you whisper harshly, a warning reminder that his daughter is sitting right next to both of you on the couch.

Joel grins against you, one hand pulling the hair back from your shoulder to give him better access. "Sarah's not here. She left fifteen minutes ago."

You're pulled from your daze and your eyes dart to the last place you saw her on the other side of Joel. Sure enough, the seat was empty. "Where did she go?" you ask, your body reacting a lot faster than your brain as your boyfriend's hand trails along your body. There are screams on the TV, but you don't know from who because your eyes have fallen shut at the sensation of his tongue as he licks a stripe across your skin.

"Friend's house," he informs you. "Gone for the rest of the night."

Oh. Oh.

"Joel." You aren't sure if his name is more of a plea or a question, but you aren't about to stop him as his hand again teases the skin of your stomach, except this time it's reaching lower. "What are you doing?"

"Turning you," he jokes gruffly before latching onto your neck. You wince as he marks you, but you do nothing to push him away. Instead, your hands grip into his curls, searching for something, anything to ground you as he sets you ablaze.

"Gonna tell me about that actor you're so enchanted by?" he grits out, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your leggings. "Because I'd be willing to bet that I can do a lot better."

You turn so you can catch his lips, teeth clashing as he swallows the proper moan he pulls from your lungs. Your hands are everywhere, and so are his as he encourages you to throw one leg over his lap, holding tight to your thighs as he stands with you in his arms. The movie continues to play as he carries you from the room, leaving Max behind to meet his fate.

"He's got you all transfixed," he drawls out as he tosses you onto the bed, immediately covering you with his body a moment later, lips hovering above yours. "Am I not enough? Joel grinds his hips into yours, his length hard against your center, and you can already feel how slick you are. How much you need whatever he's willing to give you.

How much you need him.

"Yeah? You need me, baby?" Joel questions, reading your mind as his hands make quick work of your shirt so he can latch onto your breast, the other pinched between his fingers in a way that has you arching off the bed. "Gonna come for me?"

God, you want to. You want all of him. Inside you, around you, completely smothering you, and you rake at his back, surely leaving marks on the skin beneath the shirt that still covers him. He lets you pull it off before he does the same with your leggings and underwear, revealing a mess that's solely for him.

He needs no guidance as his fingers circle your clit, back and forth until your whole world is spinning. You think you're begging him, to give you more, but you're mesmerized in an entirely different way now. It causes the world around you to grow hazy.

"Stay with me," he whispers, and you fight against the fog as he slides one finger, then two, then three into you easily. "That's it," he talks you through it, but you're long lost to the sensation. Completely absorbed in the way he drags his fingers along your walls just so. You thrust against him as pleasure sparks behind your eyelids, and then you're gushing against his hand.

It takes a moment for you to regain some sort of consciousness, but when you do, Joel is already sliding his cock along your slit, patiently waiting for you to come back to earth. "Still thinking about him?" he asks you, lips again finding that spot behind your ear, sucking your skin. You can only shake your head, words far from the forefront of your mind. His response is timed perfectly with the push of his length into your welcoming heat, "good."

He rocks against you, setting a brutal pace that almost matches the intensity of the film you'd watched earlier. The frantic need. Here, in his bed, it's not a need for blood, but for something else entirely. It's intoxicating, the way he grinds you into the mattress, driving you higher and higher and higher.

"Taking me so well." And you are, you know you are because he's filling you in a way that only he can. Completely. Thoroughly. Unconditionally. He shifts, hands pressing your legs further apart as you writhe beneath him, pinning you down as he hits something inside you that has you gripping the sheets at your side.

You whine out his name, the high-pitched sound joining the symphony of noises filling the bedroom. The creak of the bedframe beneath you and the slap of his skin against yours as he somehow moves faster. The heavy sound of your breathing, rough as it mingles with the grunt he makes when you shift your hips higher. The way you gasp breathlessly when he takes your hand and guides it to your center.

"Fuck," he mutters. "Come on, come on, come on." It's a chant as he changes the angle again to something devastating. You know he's close, you can tell from the way he's panting, but you know he won't fall without you. Thankfully, you're not far behind.

The room is silent then. That or you've blacked out entirely as pleasure consumes every fiber of your being. You're faintly aware of him spilling into you, heat radiating through your body before he collapses against you, his weight settling you into the bed as his lips once again find a home along your collarbone. You're tugging on his curls when you finally regain some resemblance of your consciousness.

"So," he whispers against your skin, "are you pro horror movie now?"

It's an insane thought, but you love him for the way that that's where his mind is at when his cock is softening inside you. "It wasn't really a horror movie anyway," you return, wrapping a leg around his waist to keep him where he is, "but perhaps I could be convinced if my favorite actor..."

Joel silences the thought with his lips. A convincing argument indeed.

[soulshaped]

find me where you've left me

sirius black x reader | exes to lovers

wc: 1.6k

It seems silly to you, waiting outside for so long that you’ve lost complete feeling in your legs. Even covered by laced tights, the skin of them is now cold to the touch. The cigarette lit between your fingers is the closest thing you have to warmth and the feeling of its smoke swirling in your lungs keeps you just grounded enough to stay. 

You should leave, that much is painfully obvious. You should be at home right now, wrapped in a warm blanket instead of standing out here like a complete fool. But you can hear the laughter rumbling from the inner walls of the Leaky Cauldron and you can’t move. You don’t even know if it’s coming from them, from him, you can’t tell. Even then, it is all enough to make you stay and try to convince yourself to open the door and go in. 

The end of your cigarette is just beginning to kiss the tip of its filter when, 

“Merlin, why is it so fucking frigid out here? Moony, can we go back in?”

“It’s been seconds, we’ve literally just opened the door.”

“I don’t care! Feed your ugly habits on your own time, it’s my birthd-”

You really should have left when you had the chance.

It takes only seconds before a very, very drunk James is enveloping you in a hug that nearly crushes all of the bones in your back. He’s practically wailing your name as Remus tries to rip his best friend’s arms off of you with a slightly apologetic, slightly amused look in his eyes. 

“James, for godric’s sake, get off of the poor girl.” 

“Happy birthday Jamie,” you smile. 

“Where have you been?! We’ve been waiting all night for you!” 

“I’ve only just arrived, was just about to come in when you lot came tumbling out the door.” 

Remus knows you. Not in the way that Sirius ever did, but he knew you well enough to see right through your white lies. You suppose it comes with the territory of decade-long friendships, but at this moment, you wish it didn’t. You wish you could run away from Remus’ increasingly pitiful gaze and James’ drunken whines without feeling even a sliver of guilt. But they know as well as you that you were never going to make it home, even if every single survival instinct you had told you otherwise. 

“Well, come in then! It’s been faaaaaaar too long since I’ve seen this adorable, scowling face.”

“Yes, come on dove, it’s awfully cold out here,” Remus wraps his arm around you reassuringly and much to your dismay, ushers you through the pub doors. 

The intense warmth of the bar hits you first, followed almost immediately by the smell of cheap beer and fried food. It’s a little disgusting. It’s overwhelming. But still, it’s comforting to be here again after so much time away. How long has it been by now, six months? A year? Ever since the break up, you’ve had trouble keeping track of the time. Every day, you get up and you go to work. You ignore calls and answer texts with only the vaguest of responses. You try to forget the mess of it you made, but it’s harder than you ever imagined, so you try to forget it all. The mess grew and grew and before you knew it, it was much too big for you. What a foolish thing to do, you think. You realize now that you’ve missed it, so very dearly. In those quiet moments, lying in bed, you have missed it. It felt like dread, but it was yearning and you have missed it. Even more so, when you near the table of such familiar faces. 

Lily reaches for you first, her blazing red head of hair being the last thing you see before she buries you in a tight hug. It means more to you than she knows.

“Where have you been?!”

She unknowingly echoes James’ words exactly, and your instincts are stuck between laughing and crying in relief. 

How did you ever think you could go without this? 

You’re bombarded by hugs and kisses, one after another, and you wish you could bottle their warmth up, stow it away on a shelf for your rainiest days. It all happens in a blur and then, suddenly, he’s in front of you again. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, y’know.”

He pulls you into his arms by instinct, like this is how it was always supposed to go. There is no hesitation, like you were always supposed to end up here, with him, time and time again – a missing piece found again. 

“I’ve been around, you could’ve found me.”

“Sweetheart, you are the hardest thing I’ve ever had to look for.”

“That can’t be true, you lose your motorcycle keys every third second of the day.” 

“You’re rotten,” he places his lips on your temple, “I’ve missed you, we all have.” 

He speaks the words into your skin, so gently. He was always his most gentle in these moments; he is always loving, but for you, he is always gentle. His presence is overwhelming; it crowds you in the most torrential and blunt ways, in a moment's notice, he is everywhere. Even when you can’t possibly squeeze into the overcrowded booth after him, his grip on your waist is unwavering, like there is nowhere else you should sit. 

Stories, new and old, are told again and again over countless drinks. The new ones are just as exciting as they are depressing to hear, you can’t help the little details you’re missing as if the story isn’t quite all there, some inside joke that you’re only now catching the tail end of. Marlene complains about her new (to you, at least), shitty boss that she kind of wants to seduce while everyone groans at her to just fuck her already. Remus talks a little about his new chapter of a book you know nothing about and Dorcas discusses her on-and-off again situationship in excruciating detail. 

Lily and James talk about their tentative plans to move in together sometime in the next year, but the look in James’ eye makes you a bit suspicious. It’s nervous, almost, like he’s holding himself back from spilling something big. It’s the same look as when he had to keep his promotion to captain of the Quidditch team a secret. He lasted a day before he spilled over breakfast in the Great Hall. 

Sirius taps on the bit of revealed skin on your hip twice, signaling you to turn towards him as he leans in closer to your ear. 

“He’s thinking of proposing. Soon, we think. In the next few months.”

You try your best to keep a neutral look on your face as you pull back to look at him. 

“Shut up.”

“I’m Sirius.”

You want to roll your eyes for this terrible, terrible joke you’ve heard too many times, but you can’t help but laugh. It bubbles out of you like a hiccup, and you start to laugh so hard you want to cry. You might cry. 

Sirius shuffles you out of the booth and nudges you out the pub door before you have any say in it, you think you hear him saying something to the table, but you can’t tell. You’re already crying, the tears blocking out all of your surroundings. All but Sirius, who stands in front of you now, in the cold, cradling your face in his uncharacteristically warm palms. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sor-”

He shushes you before pulling you in, your face meets his neck as his hands meet the nape of yours, holding you to him. 

“It’s not your fault, baby.”

“It is, though. I’ve missed out on,” you gasp in between sobs, “everything! I’ve missed out on everything. And now James and Lily are getting married, Remus is writing a book for godric’s sake, and you…”

“And I’m the same.”

“You’re not.”

“I am exactly the same,” he smiles gently, “I am right where you left me.”

You lift a finger and swipe under his eye gently; it’s a habit that started back in your school days, when Sirius was experimenting with black eyeliner and you were hopelessly in love with him. You would always brush your thumb under his eye, maybe to help wipe off the residue, maybe just as an excuse to touch him. 

The breakup was mutual, for the most part. It was never for a lack of love, but rather, too much of it for the two of you to handle. Both of you are not known for your understanding of love and commitment, neither of you were taught how to properly by family, not like James or Lily. As teenagers, that seemed so far off like it was never going to be a problem, not knowing. All you had was this immense, overflowing love for each other and even the thought of it becoming too much was incomprehensible. And yet, come adulthood, after years of being with one another, it became suffocating. 

The commitment suddenly felt too serious, the love was too overbearing. When you are never taught how to love and care for another being for what is seemingly forever, when you never have these examples to look up to, it is an impossible task. It is daunting, it is terrifying. You reassure one another that you’re both so young, you’re only in your early twenties and there is so much more life to live. But neither of you wanted to admit the reality of the situation – most of your lives have been spent together, rather than apart. The breakup that followed was inevitable, really. 

But after all of this time, you realize you would have rather spent it with him beside you. No matter how many months, years, decades may pass, you would always prefer to spend it with him.

So he is right, you are right where he left you.

[wizardnaturalist]

I am not about to sit here and claim that any work is above reproach, but so many criticisms of RENT are either directly addressed within the show or are just. not true. and this perennial discourse about how Problematic it is annoys me, so here we go

Why don't they just pay the rent?

are you kidding me

did you watch the show??

they don't have any money

the situation established at the beginning is that Benny has allowed them to stay in their apartment rent free for the past year because Roger was unable to work and he and Mark wouldnt be able to afford living expenses as well as Roger's medication otherwise.

Benny then tells them that unless they break up Maureen's protest, they will not only have to immediately start paying rent, they will also have to pay back the entire previous year's rent or else be evicted

needless to say if you ware barely scraping by, you do not have a year's worth of rent and then some just sitting on hand

Mark was cosplaying poverty, he could've gone back to his parents' house at any time.

perhaps

all we know about Mark's parents from canon is that theyre pushy and he doesnt want to live with them. We don't know any details of their living situation or home life

but even if he would have been fine moving back home, it would have meant abandoning both the community he had grown into, and Roger.

Roger literally had not left the apartment since April died, and was not well enough to work to support himself at the time. Mark leaving would mean leaving Roger without support.

Mark's view of the homeless is often voyeuristic and expoitative.

yah

the conflict between Mark's comparatively privileged upbringing and the poverty amongst which he now lives is a major part of his character

remember when that homeless lady told him to fuck off

that didnt just slip in by accident

The whole show is about not being able to afford things, and then Mark quits his job for his Ideals.

Mark was not entirely jobless before being employed at the magazine. He wasn't going from having a job to unemployment. He always had money for food, clothes, medication, etc., even if it was tight

he just wasn't employed in his field. it wasnt a question of Having A Job or Not; it was about whether Mark was willing to accept the chance to get closer to making a living off of his art, even if it went against his morals, or whether he could be content carving out filmmaking for himself in a way that felt right

I thought Jonathan Larson was gay and died of AIDS.

not his fault??

neither Larson nor his estate ever claimed either of those things, you just jumped to a conclusion and made it everyone elses' problem

I can't believe this is a common "criticism"

A straight man has no right to write about the AIDS epidemic.

I dont know how to tell you this, but AIDS is not a gays-only disease. what are you, a politician from 1986?

RENT was not about being gay, it was about the disease. Roger, Mimi, Mark, and Benny- half the main cast- are all straight as far as the audience is aware. other than gay people, the most at-risk groups at the time were IV drug users, sex workers, people of colour, and impoverished people, all of whom are represented in the show

Larson may not have had AIDS, but many of his friends and loved ones did, and died of it. how incredibly callous to say that someone cannot write about the tragedy they personally lived through, just because they are not of the demographic you most associate with it

Larson plagiarized the whole cast and all the major story beats from Sarah Shulman's People in Trouble.

this is one that cropped up on tiktok a couple years ago

have you read the book?

I have

the only similarities are that they are both about poverty and AIDS in New York, and there are characters who cheat on their partners. that's it.

it's like saying Veep plagiarized The West Wing because theyre both about white house staffers. or like those guys who claim any fantasy story featuring swords and the hero's journey is a Star Wars ripoff. it' absurd.

RENT is directly and openly based off the opera La Bohème by Puccini, as well as incorporating autobiographical elements from Larson's life

stop just repeating things you hear

in conclusion: there are real criticisms and analyses to be had with RENT, but these are not them

[cheesus-doodles]

No, a darling that understands that the toman founders are obsessed with her and uses it to her advantage. Need someone she hates put in their place? Get baji to do some beating up. Low on affection and need cuddles, Mikey or kazu up for the job. Basically she’s like a secret mafia boss sending these boys to wheee she needs them and rewards them with food or cuddles, got them all wrapped around her finger.

ahh i see where you're coming from now anon! don't think I've written a manipulative or vindictive darling before, so enjoy!

Masterlist

‎‎

To start off, I would say that the Toman founders would absolutely know and understand what you were doing. They are delinquents after all, you can’t fool them that easily - sending gang members to beat people up and run their errands while keeping themselves out of trouble is literally the name of the game.

And they liked it. They liked that you were acting like a 'proper', or rather whatever that means to delinquents, gang princess would, and the boys would be more than happy to let you do send them around to do your bidding. It didn't matter to them that you were attempting to manipulate them, or that you were being vindictive - all they could see was that you saw them for who they were and what you meant to them, and you didn't run. You were okay with it. You wanted to be with them. Be it flexing their might or (the boys' favourite) more personal matters like cuddling or tasting your new recipes, from that moment on, anything you asked for that they could give you would be yours.

The Toman boys would probably attempt to split any of the dirty work you so nicely ask of them by speciality; crime would be Kazutora obviously, anything that requires breaking and entering or stealing, this baby boy would be more than happy to do it. Pah and Baji would be pleased to handle intimidation or a good beating, while Mikey and Draken would help you to wield the full might of Toman should you need them. And Mitsuya would turn up the charm and sway and turn your poor, poor victim's closest friends against them. Anyone who dared cross you enough for you to sic your friends on would be miserable if they were lucky, and in hospital if they weren't so lucky. Yet no doubt that each would try to steal the work from the other - it's not like they liked to go out of their way to do more. But it was work from you, and they were sure the tougher the favour to fulfil, the greater and higher value the reward they would get from you.

And of course, the time and the affection that you showered on your boys would be greatest thing you could pay them with - that you still valued them the most, that they were your only and best friends. No doubt there will be a huge turn of infighting among the six about what they deserve for their enormously important role in the favour you asked for them, no matter what it was. Could have been a simple request for them to pop down to the nearest supermarket to pick up a bag of potatoes and Mikey and Kazutora would insist it was like landing on the moon, with everyone else nodding along - everyone wanted cuddle time and handmade food. You'll have to step in countless times to cool heads before things get out of hand, promising enough for all six Toman founders to get them to stop making a fuss.

But note that letting you guide them towards their next target wouldn't stop them for simply beating and chasing anybody they thought was a threat. They will do anything for you, and they will make sure that there is no one to come between you and them. Your relationship with them is the most important thing, and you were their gang princess. Toman's and only Toman's. You belonged to them in every sense of the word, and no one, not Mikey, not Draken, would let you slip from their fingers, not when you were their word.

The only line you should never ever dream of cross is lying to your Toman friends, because they see it as a slippery slope to you leaving them for someone else. The moment they catch you in a lie is the moment all your privileges are revoked.

[softxsuki]

Hey, congrats on your new milestone! I was hoping to participate in your event if that’s okay! Could I do your song drabble one with ‘Figure You Out’ by VOILÀ with Gojo from JJK. GN!Reader please! It would be great if you could include the line ‘I could love you with my eyes closed’ ‘Kiss you with a blindfold’ ‘Figure you out (mm-mmh)’ romantic with fluff please! Thank you!

1.5k Follower Event Song Drabble "Figure You Out" With Gojo (JJK)

This event is now closed. You can view the masterlist here.

| Pairing: Gojo x Gn!Reader| Genre: fluffish | Post-Type: Drabble | Word Count: 970 |

Warnings: slight swearing, y/n's date neglecting them

Note: Happy first day of October :3 Finally it's starting to cool down a lot and I'm living for it. It's already midnight, I was busy all weekend long so I forgot it was Monday, aka, my posting day. Thankfully I wrote this one in advance, so it only needed to be edited a bit and posted :D. Hope you enjoy!

Gojo was pissed, beyond pissed as you dragged him with you to introduce him to the guy you’d been talking to for a few weeks now. As your best friend, it was mandatory for him to get to know the guys you dated, but he already hated this one based on the things you had shared with him.

He was selfish and never took the time to figure you out; never cared enough to do things you liked to do or go to restaurants that you liked, oblivious to anything that interested you. Currently the three of you were seated at a table at a restaurant with food you couldn’t even eat, yet you quietly sat beside your date, looking through the menu to see if you could find anything that caught your eye.

“They can’t eat this food,” Gojo says flatly, not even bothering to look through the menu, a bored expression on his face as he finally gets the chance to see the guy who was absolute trash. The guy who stole his chance to finally confess to you after years of crushing on you and just as he was about to risk it all and ask you out, this guy had come out of nowhere and whisked you away.

“They’re literally looking through the menu, stop speaking for them man,” the guy rolls his eyes, already set on what he wanted since he was a regular at this place.

Gojo glares at him as you awkwardly glance between them, before Gojo abruptly stands up and drags you off with him. The guy tries to grab him to stop him, but can’t even touch him because of Gojo’s infinity, as the white haired man wordlessly takes you where your date can’t hear.

“Why are you putting up with that piece of shit?” He huffs, releasing your arm once they both of you are far away from your date.

“He’s not that bad…” you sigh, knowing the words leaving your mouth were lies. The man you really wanted was the white haired one right in front of you,  but he was your best friend, there was no way he felt the same for you.

“‘Not that bad’ my ass, he’s done nothing but think of himself the second we entered this place. There’s not a damn thing on this menu that you like. He should know that by now! Or does he just not care enough to even ask what you like? I’m sure you’ve spoken about yourself to him, that's how dating works, but he hasn’t remembered anything you’ve told him, has he?” He grits, extremely worked up by this.

“He’s all I have, Satoru. I’ve had so much bad luck with dating, I can’t just dump him for something as small as forgetting the foods I like or don’t like. I need to at least give him more time to see if he’s worth it…” you sigh, leaning back against the wall.

“You don’t need to do anything! Do you even actually like this guy?” 

You pause for a moment. You felt bad that this guy was more of a way for you to try and get over your best friend who you couldn't imagine liking you back. “I- I’m still getting to know him…”

Bull. It was a load of bull.

Gojo, grabs your chin and tilts it up so you’re looking at him, taking a deep breath of courage.

“Leave him and be with me,” he says confidently, his heart hammering in his chest. He had never been so nervous in his entire life, if you didn’t feel the same way, then him saying this would ruin your friendship, but he needed to tell you.

Your eyes widen in shock, unsure if what you heard was real or not.

“Satoru wh-” he cuts you off before you can even finish speaking.

“Shut up and just listen for a second. I know everything about you, your favorite color, the facial expressions you make when you’re happy and upset, every subtle eyebrow move–I know it all. I know you like the back of my hand and remember every detail you’ve ever told me. You know why? Because I’m in love with you, dammit. I’ve been in love with you for years now, but have been too scared to say anything,” eh says, looking straight into your eyes.

“I could love you with my eyes closed, kiss you with my blindfold and figure you out. I may have the six eyes, but I don’t need them to figure out the things you love, or the way you prefer things. Drop that guy, and give that chance to me. I’ll treat you better,” he whispers slowly, dropping his hands from your chin, his blindfold raised, exposing his beautiful blue eyes so you can see the truth in them.

“Yeah, let's do it,” you say finally, surprising him and yourself.

“What?” He asks in shock, taking a step back and leaning against the opposite wall, one of his hands rising to touch his forehead.

“Let’s do it. You’re not the only one who’s been silently longing to be together. I love you too…I just didn’t think you’d be into me like that. With your history with women and all…” you groan.

“Yeah, but you’re you. How could I not love you?” He smirks. “Let’s ditch this loser, just text him that you’re done with him. I’ll take you somewhere you’d actually love.”

And that sounded perfect to you as you quickly message your date that it wasn’t working out, as the both of you sneak out the back door, hopping into Gojo’s car as he drives you to your favorite restaurant (which was a lot more fancy and nice for a date than the fast food place your other date had taken you to).

Posted: 10/1/2024