#so their first impressions of each other are essentially:

[therebelcaptain]

While I enjoy seeing Cassian having a deep and intimate relationship with Bix as it shows his vulnerability in a way we've not seen before, it also feels at odds with the image of Cassian I’ve had since 2016—someone who had sacrificed everything for the rebellion. The impression I got from lines like “you’re not the only one who lost everything” is that he’d been virtually alone and isolated in this fight for years before we meet him in Rogue One, his only constant companion being K2. It felt like he’d been keeping himself in a prison of his own mind for the sake of the rebellion.

But in this season, Cassian seems more than willing to walk away for the sake of protecting Bix a mere two years before Rogue One. We're at the halfway point and Cassian is a lifetime away from the man we meet in Rogue One—he was honestly much closer at the end of season one. And maybe that's the point—that things like love can get in the way and hold people back from doing what they must in a revolution—but like others have already said here, making it the focal point of both Bix and Cassian's stories this season feels like a disservice to them as individual characters. Hell, it's not even something that hasn't already been explored in the show. Vel and Cinta's relationship in the first season already looked at how complicated it can be to fall in love while in the rebellion, so I'm not even sure of the necessity of doing the same thing with another couple, much less Bix and Cassian. It seems like the writers room decided an end point for the two of them—likely Cassian being forced to kill Bix, if his last conversation with Luthen is anything to go by—before working backwards to somehow make it feel earned instead of constructing a story that actually felt right for the characters.

While this is essentially what Andor is an exercise in, Cassian already has a specific end point that they need to work toward, but the majority of the main cast doesn't. The next batch of episodes picks up a year before the film, so Cassian's going to have to lose everything in one fell swoop in these next episodes otherwise I'm not confident that he will end up where he needs to be by the end. There are things mentioned in the Rogue One novelisation that could be explored in order show Cassian's further evolution into a fully fledged rebel who's willing to do anything for the movement. Jenoport is one such thing that comes to mind, but that probably won't happen given Cassian hasn't even met K-2 yet.

On the other hand, there is a lot more room to play with Bix as a character. Her end point isn't set in stone in the same way that Cassian's is. They could have explored a myriad of things with her character working through the trauma of being tortured and finding her own way to the rebellion as a result. While that is a factor in her story arc this season, it's frustrating to see her relevance to the story be tied so directly to her relationship with Cassian. At this point it's clear that she's only being kept around so her inevitable death can further galvanise his commitment to the rebellion. After everything she's been through as a character, Bix deserves so much more than being fridged for Cassian's story arc.

To those of you who think my opinion on this is because I'm a diehard Rebelcaptain girlie, it really isn't. Like I've said before, I actually like Bix and Cassian as a couple and would have enjoyed their scenes together more in a different context like maybe in a flashback to their youth. I'd always seen them as childhood sweethearts who still loved each other in their own ways, but had grown apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed. That made a lot of sense to me. What doesn't jive with me is that we're seeing this so close to Rogue One where Cassian is supposed to be living for the rebellion first and foremost and seemed to have been for many, many years. And at this point, the gap between these two men is the size of valley.

[strawberrystreamfields]

More Carolina Stuff (minor spoilers for the story quest?):

[fxrheisenn]

Andrus Laansalu talked about making Disco Elysium at EKA (Estonian Academy of Arts)

"Initially, the church wasn't a focal point. There were certain characters that needed to visit this location, and I asked, "Seriously, what do we have in our church?" The others replied, "Nothing at all. Our church is completely bare—just a wheel, really. It's quite basic."

That's when I decided to unleash my creativity in the design. For example, they chose to install a glass structure at the top of the church to create a reflective surface. It was like placing an optical clock up there. Therefore, one of the most crucial aspects of designing the church was ensuring the lighting was just right to create the desired atmosphere."

"Let me show you an example of Baroque architecture, which is rich in detail. We're also designing the interior of the church based on large cathedrals. However, the foundation you use might not yield the expected results, because the church itself doesn't require such intricate details. Sometimes, it's about simplifying the design."

"I used Articy for the initial scriptwriting of Disco Elysium. The image only represents a tiny fraction of the text and choice variables involved. This system was also the reason I eventually abandoned the project after a year of outlining the script and shifted my focus to becoming a sound designer. My mind struggled to keep up with the dynamic graphic rules, but fortunately, a more talented writer took over afterward."

"In terms of sound design, it's essential to develop different layers to bring out the charm of the church as a cohesive space. Although this represents only a small portion of the overall design, each layer actually requires a significant amount of time to compose the whole....... Whenever there's a shift or a change due to the dialogue itself, you need to adjust the background sounds. Each time you modify the details in the dialogue, I have to refine the background audio, ensuring that these elements build upon each other like an intricate layer of work."

"It's funny how many scenes involve characters getting smacked in the face. My job was to recreate those, so I locked myself in the bathroom with a recorder and hit my forehead until it turned red.

As a sound designer, I really dig those unsettling, drill-like sounds. So, I mixed in creepy lectures, metal scraping, moans, and cries of pain—because I just love that stuff! (laughs)

Players will be moving through all kinds of areas, so it's super important to make the sound transitions feel natural, trying to create a more immersive vibe in certain spaces.

With all the scenes featuring big cranes, you can hear them from far away, and I wanted to capture that eerie ringing in your ears. That's going to be a thing throughout most of the game. I've found ways to really mess with players while they're playing!"

"I've come across a lot of old objects (like phones and radios) that I needed to perfectly replicate the sounds. I started to become a bit of a hoarder, buying up different models of old phones whenever I found one to add to my collection. The sound effects I can simulate from them are really impressive."

"Some of the devices don't actually exist in real life—just a mix of architecture and tech. When I need to create sound effects, I first look for something similar that exists in our world, then I try to simulate what the sound and appearance of that thing might have been like a century ago.

Towards the end of the game, there's a character carrying a fuel canister. We needed the sound of the canister, so we dug one up from our garage—it had been sitting there since it was five! I realized this would make the sound perfect. So, it had been there for 50 years, and after 40 years, it finally found its purpose.

In some places, I needed unique sound waves, and recreating them was a real headache until one day I happened to walk by a swimming pool and stumbled upon an old wartime torpedo. You can rotate the torpedo's probe, and it slowly rises up, like a proud zombie head. The sounds it made were exactly what I needed!"

🙋How did you manage to get funding?

"Well, since we're in Estonia, you just need to know a wealthy person. You don't need five people—just two who can network, hang out together, and convince them to keep investing! (laughs) Back then, we constantly ran out of money and would tell them, 'Oops, looks like we spent it all! Can you invest a bit more?' That's how we made it through!"

🙋How did you all come together to make the game?

"Luck. It usually doesn't happen this way, and that's the key difference. It has to be. If not, you couldn't create a game of this scale - well, I mean in terms of budget. But creatively, Estonia definitely has writers and artists who can pull it off. With such a small population, there are a lot of quirky folks who are good friends. We were really lucky, though - lots of fortunate circumstances came together. It brought the right people together, allowing those talented fools to collaborate with us. They had experience but hadn't tackled projects of this magnitude before. So yeah, luck is pretty important!"

Lecture experience shared by 白兔YIYANG SUN on 小红书, reposted & translated by me with her permission.

[shiny-jr]

from SCARABIA

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Jamil Viper.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: Hey! Hey... How y'all doing...? I know it's been nearly two years since I updated this.

Pomefiore   |   Scarabia   |   Octavinelle

Jasmine. The scent of freshly ground jasmine tea leaves permeated the air, an attempt to cast a relaxing affect. However, it only had the opposite affect, as you knew enough to determine where the letter might've originated from. A vertical envelope sealed, with no wax seal or string to hold it shut. A perfectly normal envelope but labeled urgent.

Each word seemed so carefully planned, the ink creating coils and lines like woven fabric as if printed. It nearly felt too unnatural, from the formalness that spiraled into quick and rushed writing. After this many letters, you've picked up by now that the neatest ones likely have something to hide, but they likely got tired of hiding it. Pretty penned words and apologies in ink were used to conceal what the writer truly felt.

To the player,

Do not leave Ramshackle dorm tonight.

Mondays you visit Mr. S's Mystery Shop for the essentials. Tuesdays you sneak into the botanical garden. Wednesdays you spend time with Professor Crewel as he stays late to grade exams in the Alchemy Workshop. Thursdays you hide in the Coliseum as Coach Vargas rearranges equipment. Fridays you slip into the back of the library where Professor Trein is reading. Weekends you're either with Headmaster Crowley in the Hall of Mirrors or guarded in Ramshackle.

They know you leave Ramshackle at midnight. I just want to warn you. No one is supposed to be around at midnight. It should have remained a short moment away from the confines of Ramshackle, but, the same people you've been avoiding have heard about your nightly escapades.

I know I'm one of those people you're avoiding. Know that I'm not upset at you. I don't fault you for it. You've known my true nature for a while now, but you could realize that even I'm not twisted enough to stalk you and get your schedule all on my own. All that above? Information I heard. I don't approve of tracking you, not when you deserve to have peace and quiet if you want it. But I don't mind influencing a classmate or two with magic to hear what's going on inside each dorm when they're threatening your brief moments of peace. There's the obvious happenings, and the not so obvious ones.

That being said, you do know that I am willing to do what it takes to protect your space and to advance my standing above the rest. That's something I don't bother to hide around you. So, I'll tell you the happenings. The obvious that others have probably yapped about already... Malleus and his cohorts have taken up the task of guarding Ramshackle, so they know about your trips. Ignihyde is mostly quiet, but Ortho has been talking to Kalim a lot about "fun" plans to involve you in. Pomefiore maintaining their refined image to impress you when I doubt that it's all real.

The Leech twins have been particularly prone to violence recently, and Azul lacks his usual confidence although he tries to hide it. In Savanaclaw there's been multiple brawls because of the tension but Leona seems to be sleeping in more than before. Heartslabyul is as chaotic as ever, but it seems like they feel the most responsible for what happened. I've seen those two first years, Ace and Deuce, try to visit Ramshackle all the time but never get past the gate.

That's not all, but that's all I'll say about that for now.

I'm not trying to bother you, I can promise you that. I managed to put a stop to about ten plans Kalim was ready to set in motion just this week to grab your attention.

You realize what this is by now. I know you do. A warning from me, an attempt to redeem myself. Although "redeem" doesn't seem like a suitable word, because I don't really believe true redemption is possible. Not with what I allowed to happen to you. But I only care about myself, and you. No one else. So I don't care if their plans fail. In fact, I'm glad to tell you this, just so they won't see you.

Don't let them see you. They don't deserve it. None of us do. My advice to you: avoid your usual destinations for about a week or two. After a while, they'll start looking elsewhere. Give me a few more days, I'll start planting false rumors soon to throw them off. Like how you were spotted in the woods behind campus or the sports field. That will get them off your back for a while. If you plan to go to the cafeteria eventually for a meal, take the long way through the back. Hardly anyone goes that way. If you want a home cooked meal, let me know. I'll send something your way if you just ask.

One last warning. You're going to get a letter around the same time you'll get this one you're currently reading. It's an invitation from Kalim. Don't go. He's planning a surprise party with the exact people you're avoiding.

Anything you tell Kalim will eventually be told to others, you should know that. Anything you say to me will be kept a secret I will closely guard. If you want more information or greater details, something to be delivered since I imagine you'll be in Ramshackle for a while, or just desire new company for once... I'm here. Even if you don't want me, I'm here. With just one response from you, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Tell me whatever you wish, and I'll see to it just to be back in your grace.

Awaiting your response.

Best wishes,

Jamil Viper

A chill traveled up your spine as you processed the message you just read. The window was right beside you, so you reached up to pull the string of the blinds, blocking out the sights in fear of someone watching through those very windows.

"Grim, we're going to have to take a rain check on our trip to the cafeteria tonight." Once you dropped the letter, you went window to window, closing and locking each one, pulling down the blinds and readjusting the curtains.

"Aww..." The feline watched in confusion as you moved around to check the locked front and back doors. Normally he would've immediately whined and complained about the canceled trip to the place with food, but he sensed your reemerging paranoia. Following you, his tail swished behind him as he walked on all fours. "What's with you? Was it something in that letter?"

Pulling on the door handle, you were only satisfied when it didn't budge. "Yes."

When you handed him the letter to read, his little paws grasped onto it and he handed you a second open letter that was unfamiliar. Sniffing the jasmine scented letter, Grim pulled away and plopped down with it. "I was reading that other one while you were distracted. It sounds fun and it would be worth going if they weren't crazy obsessed, you know."

Fun?

When you took a closer look at the letter Grim handed you, it was evidence that Jamil had told the truth in this instance.

Even from where you stood, you could make out the shimmer of the torn envelope forgotten in the living room floor feet away from where you stood. Grim has throughly torn through it, the exterior was white with a corner accidentally stained by black ink. The interior of the envelope shined like gold. Was it real gold? Probably not, but at this rate, anything was possible.

The letter was clearly perfumed, and each word was written far more casually than in other letters you had already read. Each word was written in clear black ink, and there seemed to be a doodle marking the end of every paragraph. There was a heart, a smiley face, and a star, just to name a few. Just by a glance, it didn't carry the same heavy content like the others did. There was only one person you could think of who would have written this.

Hi, Player!

You are invited to a celebration in your honor!

That's right. Tomorrow, at the Scarabia dorm, I'll be hosting a party just for you! There's gonna be every type of food you can think of, the best songs to dance to, and invitations have already been sent out. It's gonna be the biggest party this place has ever seen! I even imported some gifts from off campus to give you later. I'm sure you're probably wondering why throw a party after everything that happened, huh?

Well, I had two reasons. One, I wanted to use it as an apology. I'm sorry. I really really mean it. I know I keep saying it with every gift and letter I've sent you. I don't even have a clue if you've read the ones I sent before. I hope you've seen them. Did you at least like the bracelet I sent last time? It's real gold from my homeland!

The second reason was because I just really want to see you. Even if you just come by for a minute, just one dance or have one plate of food, that would be enough. It would make me happy. And maybe it might make you happy too? Jamil said it isn't a good idea, but its worth a shot! And really, we're all miserable without you. I figured that it would be a way to cheer everyone up, not just you and me. Right now, I think everyone could use a bit of festivity to lift their spirits. Especially you, and honestly, me too. Ever since you shut yourself in Ramshackle, everyone's been worried sick.

I hope you're doing better now! Admittedly, I still feel guilty about what happened. Whenever I think too much about it, I get scared when I imagine what you went through and what could've happened. I wish I could turn back time to when you walked into Scarabia and pretended to be someone else. My heart recognized you before my brain did, and I was too happy with you to even realize that the joy I felt in that moment was so familiar. It was familiar because I was with you, and I'm only that happy when I'm hanging out with you! I think about that day a lot, you know. But you didn't tell me it was you for a reason.

You were scared, weren't you? That's why you kept looking around so much back then. At first, I thought it was because you were curious of the dorm, but I was wrong. You weren't scared of me, were you? I hope not. You know I would never ever hurt you, right? Even when you were known as the "imposter," I didn't want to cause you any pain at all. I just wanted to ask: why? Why was this happening? Why had they caused Yuu to break down? Why were they doing it and causing us so much pain?

Because without you, we were hurting. Badly.

I was hurting, and I don't ever remembering feeling a pain like this. It feels worse than any sort of bitter poison or heartbreaking betrayal. I'm so, so, sorry.

I don't want to dwell on the past too much. It hurts to think about. I hope you'll be willing to at least consider forgiving me? It seems like a lot to ask, and I have no idea what you're thinking. I really want to see you, and hanging out again, and forget all this ever happened. But I can't do that, because I have to consider you, your thoughts, your opinion on everything.

Sorry, sorry, I don't want this letter to sound depressing. It's supposed to be an invitation! Everything's gonna be okay, it has to be. Soon, maybe, I'll get to see you again and everything will be right. I won't feel this pain in my chest anymore, once I'm with you. Right now, let me take this chance to just try and explain how much you mean to me... Uh, I never thought I would actually get this opportunity. It doesn't feel real. I don't even know if the right words exist that capture my emotions. Let's see... When I wake up in the mornings, you're the first thing on my mind as the sun comes up. When I fall asleep at night, you're all that's in my dreams as the sun goes down.

People think I'm too hopeful, too naive, when it comes to you. But I'm not! One day, I know we'll be together again, and we'll be happy! I'll get to just live beside you, the real you! That's been my wish ever since I've met you through your vessel, Yuu.

We're already halfway there! You're here, in our world, I've met you, I've spoken to you, I've been so close I literally touched your hand! Yeah, we messed up along the way, but we'll make up for it! All that's left is to earn your forgiveness, and my wish will have come true once you allow me to be next to you again! I'm so so close, and yet you seem so far away. Just out of reach, but I'll get there, don't worry. I'll make up for everything. All you gotta do is guide me. Tell me what you want. Please.

I'll check up on you soon, okay?

See you tomorrow,

Kalim Al-Asim

[nereidprinc3ss]

please don't say you love me

in which fwb!spencer reid and fem!reader get into an argument about the nature of their relationship.

18+ (implied intimacy) warnings/tags: friends with benefits arrangement, it goes bad, reader is so clearly anxious avoidant, reader is so me-coded, self-loathing, difficulties with emotional intimacy, arguing, derek and penelope make an appearance woo, a little dramatic, no happy ending (a nereidprinc3ss first!) a/n: it happened guys I stopped writing for a few days and last night randomly was inspired to finish this fwb piece and it essentially turned into a vent and went a completely different direction than i thought it would but here we are!!! i hope you enjoy, I loved writing, ilysm

“Are you reading it? Did you get to the part yet?” You ask, buzzing as you peer around Spencer’s arm to see where he’s at in the book you’d handed him. Sometimes you think it takes him longer to flip the pages than to read them. 

He doesn’t answer, but you see the flickering quirk of his lip like something is amusing him. It’s been a few minutes and he’s maybe halfway through. He has to have seen it by now. 

You’re clinging to his arm, eyes darting pointlessly between the text and his face, searching for a reaction. It comes in the form of a furrowed brow, a disbelieving smile, and something between a barking laugh and an exclamation of, “what?”

“You read it?”

His eyes narrow and he flips back a page, taking a bit longer to reevaluate. 

“Our moans and grunts drowned out the screams of the dead and dying only a few hundred feet away.”

You giggle furiously, clapping a hand to your mouth when you snort, and you feel Spencer’s focus shifting to you, even with your eyes screwed shut. 

“And you read this whole series?”

At that you sober up some, still hiding the bottom half of your face and brows drawn sorrowfully as mirthful tears well. You’re slow to admit your guilt with a nod, and his expression is somewhere between horror and fascination. 

Your cheeks heat and you cover your face, laughing again and shaking your head shamefully as he ridicules you. 

“Why? Why would you do that to yourself? I don’t even know if I can be seen in public with you, that’s—” he’s haphazardly tossed the book back on its display table and grabbed your wrists, pulling gently and laughing too. “No, show me your face. This is—you need to explain yourself. This is unforgivable.” 

“No! I swear it was a morbid curiosity, I didn’t like it, I’m sorry! I—”

“Reid?”

You both freeze. 

It’s not the most dignified position, admittedly—hidden among the shelves in a bookstore, pressed too close to be friendly, his hands around your wrists. 

So you don’t mind when he drops them like hot potatoes and gives you a few inches of breathing room. 

“Hey! Uh—you’re—”

Spencer is looking between you and two other people at the end of the aisle—a quirky bespectacled blonde in a flouncy polka-dot dress and her taller companion, ripped and head shaved, sporting some impressive eyebrows. Right now they’re conspicuously raised—his eyes are also pinballing between you and Spencer. 

For a moment, everyone is just sort of… looking at each other. 

It’s a little bit… awful?

Finally Spencer clears his throat. 

“Um, what are you guys doing here? Just… looking at books?”

Something is off, and you feel like shrinking or running, but you just stay glued to your spot. 

In sync, they hold up copies of the same book—and it takes you not a second to place the author’s name, in imposing red font at the bottom like it’s important. Rossi. 

The pieces click into place. These must be Spencer’s co-workers—Penelope and Derek, if his descriptions of the team have served you well. Part of you is starstruck. Part of you is embarrassed. They’re clearly shocked to see Spencer with a girl in the wild, so you know he hasn’t told them about you—and why should he, you think, why should he tell his friends about the girl he’s been sleeping with for months now? 

Finally, the blonder half of the duo speaks. 

“You’re—this is a girl. That’s. Who is that? Hi! Who are you?”

She’s literally pointing at you, eyes drifting between you and Spencer like it just doesn’t make any sense. Derek gives her a look and gently pushes her hand down. 

“Hey. That’s enough.” Then he offers you a polite smile, though you sense a bit strained, and his eyes too keep wandering back to the man next to you. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no! You’re not… interrupting…” Spencer trails off and you sense he’s looking at you and gauging a reaction but you’re just smiling idly at his friends and waiting for this to be over. He finally thinks to introduce you by name, and you offer a shy wave and a smile to your new acquaintances. 

Penelope points (that damn finger again) but this time it’s less accusatory, and stays below chin level. 

“Cool shirt. I love that band,” she offers genially. Your brows raise and you look down, trying to remember what shirt you’d tossed on before leaving Spencer’s apartment an hour ago. 

“Oh! Thanks,” you smile, and you’re relieved to mean it this time. 

Another frosty silence begins to descend, but Derek doesn’t let it settle so much this time, to everyone’s satisfaction. 

“Alright, well. It was nice to meet you. Enjoy your date.”

There’s too much weight on the last sentence, and Derek gives Spencer a eyebrows-raised-meaningfully look you don’t understand. You’re just glad Spencer keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t immediately insist that it’s not a date, because it’s not, and that’s fine, but the vehement denial would bum you out. 

The pair walk away in the kind of clenched silence that means they’ll start fervently whispering as soon as they are out of ear shot. You watch their retreating figures and chew your lip, sensing that the carefree and playful energy of five minutes ago will have evaporated by the time you turn back to face your companion. 

“Strange,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, and you’re slightly jarred when Spencer replies from beside you. 

“Which part?”

All of it. 

Turning to face him, you smile, and it doesn’t reach your eyes but it doesn’t need to. 

“Oh—nothing, sorry.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, only stares at a point somewhere above your head and narrows his eyes like he’s thinking unpleasant thoughts. 

“Was I an asshole, to you, just now?”

It’s unexpected. You don’t have an answer prepared, so you say something that feels like a lie because you can’t prove that it’s not the truth. 

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I just… I don’t know. I get weird around them, sometimes. I don’t always know what to say, like, when my personal life and my work life intersect, because for a long time I didn’t really have a personal life. And I think they still think I don’t know how to talk to girls, so…”

“You don’t know how to talk to girls,” you remind him. “Let’s go look at the puzzles.”

Maybe you spend too much time with Spencer Reid. Maybe that’s the problem—too long in his presence and he’s eating away at your neural tissue like you’ve got cysticercosis and he’s the T. solium (a terrible thing he had explained to you a few weeks ago.)

Maybe you need a break from him, to stop breathing his air and sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothing, because you’re forgetting that he’s not the entire world and that is a very bad thing to forget in a situation like yours. The entire world cannot be the size of his apartment. 

But you also just like him so much. As a friend, of course. That goes without saying. You like his strange sense of humor, and the way he lights up when you ask him an obscure question. You like your legs across his lap while you watch his old shows. You also like being kissed by him, and hugged by him. You like being taken care of like no one has ever taken care of you, and you like the way he always touches you, soft and kind and so on purpose. 

You never meant to like him so much. 

This affection—it has grown, insidious and parasitic, and now that it’s been pointed out to you like a lump in your side, it’s impossible to ignore. 

What you and Spencer have works precisely because you’ve kept things platonic and casual. That way, there’s no worrying about emotional baggage or arguing about feelings because there are none to be found and no precedent that any such things should or need to occur. You can’t hurt each other’s feelings if your feelings aren’t on the table. 

So why can’t you stop thinking about earlier?

Why can’t you help caring that he’s been keeping you a secret from the people he loves most?

“So, essentially the book is his first deep dive into meta-fiction. It was pretty revolutionary at the time, and while not his most celebrated novel, I’d argue it was his most relevant and culturally pervasive. I’d actually love to hear your interpretation of the story—it’s truly different for everyone. It’s a little like… like a literary Rorschach test. Do you wanna borrow it?”

You’re a tangle on his bed—arms, legs, sheets—it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins. All you’re sure of is his hand, tracing his fingers in chaste lines, feather-light up and down your inner thigh in the way he knows you like. Usually it’s so soothing you melt and fall asleep within minutes. Right now it’s only stoking some sparking electrical fire in your chest—the buzzes and bursts from which have you on edge. Ready to cave in at any second. You wish you could relax. You’ve been trying.

Spencer is in no hurry for you to respond, and so doesn’t seem to mind when it takes you a long while to find your answer. 

“I think I need to go home.”

It comes out too scratchy, as you haven’t really spoken for several hours. Not as casual as you were going for. He angles his head down toward you and his hand stops and you realize it’s actually worse like that. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Everything is fine, I just… I wanna sleep in my own bed tonight, I think.”

It’s late and you shouldn’t be making him drive you across town, but he’s always amenable to what you want. This is the longest you’ve ever stayed at his place, after all—a rare long weekend—and before that a few weeks had passed with no cases to speak of, during which time you’ve been staying with him more and more. Spencer seems to be completely content letting you eat his food and use his shower if it means you don’t leave. 

“I know the feeling well,” he admits, and your heart twinges with the care he takes to not bump or bend you or pull your hair as he shifts. He’s already been out of bed, and so is more dressed than you. Really, most people on the planet are more dressed than you, and you pull his nice sheet higher up your chest as he sits on the edge of the mattress, looking down at you and with a sort of worry in his eyes. He finds your knee through the fabric. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Stop paying such close attention, you want to tell him. And in the same breath, please don’t ever look away. 

“I’m… good.”

It is easily the least convincing performance of your life. Either you’re self sabotaging or you want him to push you further, and you don’t know which is worse. 

When his brow ramps just the slightest bit, you know you’ve fumbled it. 

“I don’t believe you.”

You shrug. “I don’t need you to.” And then you sit up, still holding the sheet to your chest. “Can you hand me a shirt?”

Enough clothing has accumulated around the room recently that he could pretty much reach out in any direction and find something for you to wear.  He grabs a sweatshirt hanging from the bedpost and holds it out for you, and you pull it over your head, before dropping your feet onto the cool wooden floor and grabbing the first bottoms you see—a pair of floral pajama shorts. How have so many of your clothes ended up at his apartment?

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

You scoop your bag up from a chair and flit around the room, haphazardly stuffing away discarded clothing to take back home. It’s true that it’ll be nice to get back to your stuff—your shower products and your closet and your silk pillow cases. You shouldn’t be spending so much time here. It’s not your space and you’ve been sacrificing your own needs to be closer to him, which is something you’d rather not do for any man. 

“You can drive me home. I’ll send you gas money.”

“You don’t need to send me gas money,” he says, tacking your name on to the end of the sentence in a way that raises your hackles instantly. 

“Yeah, I do. You drive me around constantly. I’ll pay you back and start taking the metro, or something.”

“I don’t want your money,” he scoffs. 

“Fine. Then I’ll call a car.”

“That’s unnecessary. I’m happy to drive you.”

“Why?”

Silence hangs. Spencer has by this point stood up, and he’s watching you with a furrowed brow and slightly parted lips like he doesn’t understand where this animosity has come from. Honestly, you’re not entirely sure either. You didn’t realize you were harboring so much of it. 

“Am I supposed to see you as an inconvenience?”

“I’m not your responsibility.”

“No. You’re not. We have a relationship and I don’t mind doing things for you.”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but you sure as hell were thinking it. 

It feels good to say, like stretching a sore muscle beyond its limits or pressing into a bruise until you get past the ache. Sometimes when things hurt, it’s best to feel the pain and move on. 

He looks absolutely perplexed, the lines between his brows only ditching deeper. 

“Is that what this is about?”

“Oh my god, Spencer, no, I don’t care—”

“Because earlier at the bookstore I asked you if I was being an asshole and—”

“I do not give a fuck about earlier at the fucking bookstore!”

It’s too late to be yelling, but he doesn’t scold you. He just sort of looks at you, like you’re something mildly unpleasant. It makes you feel worse. 

A long moment goes by. 

“Fine. I’ll take you home.”

You let him brush past you, nothing more than a breeze on your shoulders as he disappears from the darkened bedroom. For a moment, you can’t follow him. All you can do is stand there and try to contain that sour, stinging, crying feeling in your eyes and nose because there’s no reason for you to be crying right now. 

From the living room, he calls, rather abrasively, “Are you coming?”

“Yes,” you huff, and it is as wavering as it is insolent, so obviously the only word holding back a full-fledged deluge of tears. 

One minute. One minute to sniffle and take deep breaths and wipe abashedly under your eyes because you refuse to be dramatic about this. Refuse to get over-emotional. You will not let it matter this much to you. 

When you decide you can show your face without making a scene, you march out of his bedroom and straight past where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, keys in hand, to the front door. 

He doesn’t move. You burn smoking holes into the dark wood of the door with your eyes, and the two of you are apparently at an impasse. 

“I’m ready,” you eventually snap, always the impatient one between the two of you, casting a sharp glance over your shoulder. 

“I’m not.”

“You said you would—”

“I know what I said,” Spencer cuts you off and shuts you up, “and I changed my mind. I’d prefer to talk about it before I take you home.”

By the time he finishes the sentence you’re already wrestling your phone from the depths of your bag in search of a ride sharing app. 

“Okay, well I’m done talking because I don’t think there’s anything to talk about, so—”

“No, you’re done talking because this is what you do. You can never admit it when you want something because that would mean acknowledging that you’re a human being with emotions, and that’s too scary for you.”

Surely you misheard him. You turn around, a deep frown contorting your features. 

“Excuse me?”

He only looks at you in that expectant, knowing way of his. 

“It’s too scary so you run away. You’d rather burn your relationships to the ground and rebuild them with a new person every time than actually let someone in.”

“You don’t know me!” You yell.

“Do you actually think that’s true?” Spencer says, pushing off his perch against the counter, voice shrilling and raised slightly as he gets visibly agitated. “You think I’ve spent hours upon hours with you and I don’t know you at all?”

“You have no idea what I’m like in a relationship because this isn’t one. You have no fucking idea what I want, so do not presume to,” you seethe. 

“You want a relationship. You wanted my friends to know you and you didn’t tell me that because you’re fucking terrified of the fact that I do know you. You can’t stand the idea that regardless of how many times you tell yourself it’s just sex, you have been vulnerable with me, and you’ve told me things you’ve never told anyone before, like why your last three relationships really ended, and how you constantly self-sabotage when you’re on the verge of getting what you want because you think you don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up!”

“No. I’m not just going to let you walk away from me like you did everyone else who could’ve ever cared about you because I know once you walk out that door you’ll stop responding to my calls and texts and I’ll never see you again, which is a juvenile pattern and completely unsustainable if you don’t want to keep pushing people away for the rest of your life!”

“God, Spencer, stop!” You sob, staggering back like you’ve been stabbed. 

The urgency, the raw, desperate scratch of your voice, stops him in his tracks. 

Every place an arrow penetrated a chink in your armor aches, and it hurts so much worse because he knew exactly where they were. You don’t know when or how it happened, but he’s right. Despite your most valiant efforts, Spencer Reid knows you. Somehow he crept in and grew over every limb like ivy. It’s crawled over your feet and up your legs and it’s keeping you there, rooted in place in his apartment, sobbing silently into the crook of your arm because you feel utterly paralyzed with fear. 

Just as he’d said. 

It’s silent for a long stretch of time, unquantifiable the same way the distance between the beach and the horizon is unquantifiable. It’s sprawling and infinite and desolate. The only relief from the drowning quiet is the occasional gulp of air or gasp from you which furthers your humiliation. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer finally whispers, soft and unsure like rays of weak sunlight over staggered tides, in the grey morning after a raging storm. It’s an attempt. It’s earnest and afraid. 

The energy radiating off of him is so tangible that you can sense his desire to come near. To hold you. But that would be your worst nightmare come to fruition. This—this warbling and crying in front of him in silence in his dark apartment is god-awful enough. But to be comforted? For him to bear witness up close and personal to your humility and your ugly, jagged pieces—that inspires true catatonia. That is everything he said you were afraid of, and he was right. 

You resent your human nature, and the fact that you care how his friends look at you and that it stung when they did so with little more than apathy. You hate that you care that he hasn’t told them about you. You hate that you feel so unimportant—because more than anything, you want to be fine with being unimportant. 

You want to be fine. Constantly. 

You hate that you feel. You hate that you care. 

But you always have. And so fucking deeply. 

Somehow, Spencer Reid is the only one who has ever noticed. 

Eventually, his self-restraint snaps and he surges forward at the same time as you take a shuddering inhale and step back. 

“Please don’t touch me,” you whisper. Afraid that if he did, his fingers would only sink into your flesh like decaying fruit. That you would disintegrate in his hands, and he’d finally see you’d been rotten the whole time. 

He speaks softly, holding his hands up to show you he’s not a threat. 

“Okay. I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go home.”

“I’ll—”

“No. I don’t want a ride. I’ll get a car.” You speak quietly. Efficiently. There’s no point in pretending this doesn’t feel catastrophic anymore. 

His brows furrow. Like a moth to flame, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he draws nearer again. 

“I’m not comfortable with you on the street at this hour.”

“I’ll wait in the lobby,” you insist, pleading, a wounded animal, because he doesn’t seem to understand how every casual notion of kindness is a violence, how he’s ripping into you and making it so you’ll never be able to put yourself back together. He can’t be kind like you’re easy to be kind to. 

If you’re easy to be kind to, you are just as easy to hurt. Accepting that kindness is a sort of vulnerability you feel you can’t afford right now. 

Another moment of silence, of stillness, as if you’re both bolted to the ground where you stand. 

When he speaks it’s a blow to the chest because you’ve made him cry too. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, quietly, and a venomous self-hatred drips down your throat. Because you’re doing it again.

Maybe this is all you will ever be. 

You fail to stifle a sob and Spencer steps closer still, saying your name desperately and so quietly like it’s his last rite. 

And you try. You try harder than you ever have to stay in one place, to get a hold of your vibrating and to swallow all those slithery feelings and ignore every alarm telling you to panic when he reaches out to touch your arm because it’s never safe to let people in. But when his hand finally brushes you, it’s like a cow prod. You jolt backward. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you whisper all in one harrowed breath, and there’s so much you’d like to say—you’re right, about everything, you do know me, you know what I want, I tried, I’m ashamed—but none of it matters. None of it is enough. He’s backed you into a corner of your own making, and the only way out is by pushing him aside even if it hurts you both. 

So you don’t say anything else. You leave him there, in the dark of his own apartment, and you disappear down the hall. 

Maybe this is all you will ever be.

[steveslevis]

i want your things in my room

azriel x roommate!reader

summary: azriel is your roommate and one of your best friends. it's normal to have a crush on and have horny thoughts about your best friend every once in a while...right?

warnings: mutual pining, idiots in love!!!!!, angst, alcohol consumption, masturbation (m), dom/sub dynamic, oral (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, so much dirty talk from az, slight degradation kink, praise kink, sir kink, semi-unprotected (?) rough piv, slight breeding kink, choking/breath play, size kink/big dick azriel as usual, dacryphilia, probably some things i missed idk

word count: 8.2k

a/n: based off of this ask!!!! don't ask how i wrote this so quickly idk what took over me

“Are you ever going to admit that you want to fuck Azriel?” a low, unamused voice murmurs in your ear as you feel the couch cushion behind your back dip slightly with the weight of their elbows. 

You whip your head around at an impressive speed, coming face-to-face with your best friend and neighbor, Nesta, who is smirking at you as she extends a plastic cup filled with a mystery concoction of alcohol towards you. 

She’d caught you staring at your roommate from across the living room, ignoring the rest of the people bustling around you to essentially undress him with your eyes. Well, it didn’t take too much to undress him with your eyes, considering he’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a fully open button-down short sleeve shirt, accenting the gold chain dangling around his neck and the swirling tattoos over his bare chest and arms. It’s not your fault that he’s attractive and nearly shirtless, it’s just distracting. 

“I will never admit such a thing, because it’s not true.” you retort matter-of-factly as you pluck the cup from her hand with an incredulous glare. 

“Oh, sure.” Nesta hums unconvincingly before rounding the couch to stand in front of you, holding a hand out to you to help you stand. “Let’s go, the boys want to play beer pong.”

A groan falls from your lips as you stand, letting her pull you across the room to the corner where Cassian had set up a folding table and ten cups on each side. Azriel and Cassian are standing on either side of the table, practicing tosses while poking fun at each other. 

Cassian is the first to notice you and his girlfriend walk over, a wide, drunken grin spreading over his face as he sets the ping pong ball down to pull Nesta in for an embrace. As he does, Nesta grumbles something about how she just saw him ten minutes ago and that he’s so clingy when he’s drunk, but there’s nothing but love behind her eyes as she jokes with him. 

Oh, how you wish you had someone to look at you like that.

 An arm slings around your shoulder as you stare longingly at the couple, breaking you from your desperate trance. You look over to see your roommate tugging you close, a half-smirk on his lips as he stares down at you. 

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” you say to him before looking back to Nesta and Cassian, who are giggling to themselves in between kisses, in their own little world. “I’m so happy Nes finally found someone who actually makes her happy.”

“Oh yeah, they’re disgustingly adorable.” Azriel replies, a slight cringe playing on his face as his eyes flicker to the couple as his hand falls to the small of your back to guide you to your side of the pong table. 

“What? Not the affectionate type, Azzy?” you tease, a twinkle in your eyes as you try to hide the disappointment at his disgust in the public affection, though you’re not sure why you’re disappointed considering you’ll never be on the receiving end of his romantic affection.

“I don’t know, not really.” he hums thoughtfully, arranging the cups to his liking as he avoids your gaze. 

“You wanna know what I think?” you question, bringing your drink to your lips to take one long gulp. The two drinks you’d had prior to standing up are finally catching up to you now, leaving you with more courage and a warmer chest than you had five minutes ago.

“Pretty sure you’re gonna tell me what you think regardless of if I want you to or not, sweetheart.” Azriel teases, looking down at you as you take a step towards him, a smirk plastered on your face.

“I th–think that you just haven’t found the right girl to make you want to publicly display affection.” you say confidently, chin raised high to lock eyes with him. “I think you just need to find the perfect girl that you’ll want to claim as yours and scream it from the rooftops.” 

The two of you have a momentary staring contest as you search his eyes for any sign that you’re right, but finding none. Azriel opens his mouth to give you a smart retort, but before he can speak, someone backs into you and makes you lose your footing. You stumble forward, your chest falling flush with his bare abdomen as his hands reach for your waist to keep you from falling. He looks down at you then, eyes glued on your breasts as they threaten to spill from your top as you wrap your arms around him. 

All he can think about as he watches you scramble in his arms is how much he wants to say fuck it to this party and take you back to his room to see what those perfect tits look like in his–

A giggle falls from your lips, interrupting Azriel’s lewd thoughts when you finally stand up straight and take a step back when he lets you out of his arms. Your cheeks are flushed when you pull away, as if you’re just as flustered as he is about the interaction. 

“S–Sorry about that.” you laugh nervously, turning to look over your shoulder to make sure nobody else is going to knock you over. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Azriel chuckles dryly, moving to stand halfway behind you in order to prevent you from being knocked over again. 

“Are you two done being idiots for long enough for us to play or not?” Nesta calls over the table, raising her brows at you, which makes you roll your eyes at her as you nod. 

To any outsiders, the game of beer pong definitely looks like it’s being played by two love-sick males and the females that they’ll never get enough of. Nobody would guess that the “couple” being exceedingly touchy and overly-affectionate was the pair who just discussed his hatred of public affection, especially by the fact that he can’t keep his hand off your back, and how it keeps almost falling to your ass every time you jump with happiness when you make a cup. 

To anyone watching, it’s extremely obvious that Azriel is so infatuated with you that it’s almost ridiculous. To you, it’s anything but obvious as you tell yourself with every touch that he’s just your roommate and he’d never look at you that way. 

________________________________

Azriel can’t sleep.

Usually after a party at the apartment, he’s out as soon as his head hits the pillow, but not tonight. 

He’s plagued by thoughts of you, thoughts he probably should not be having about his roommate. 

The two of you have always denied any feelings for each other in front of your friends, but there’s no denying how you run through his mind every night. 

“We’ve just grown very close since living together, we’re best friends.” you’d said one night when your friends asked, as you were clinging onto Azriel’s arm on the couch drunkenly, “and best friends can flirt with each other and shouldn’t get any shit for it. Sometimes it just happens, alright?”

His mind races as he stares at the ceiling, unable to focus on anything but you, thoughts of you racing through his mind at breakneck speeds. 

Thoughts of you underneath him, your breathy moans ringing in his ears as he thrusts into you mercilessly. Thoughts of tears streaming down your cheeks while you choke on his cock as he fists your hair, fucking your face while cooing to you about how you’re such a good little slut. Thoughts of bending you over the kitchen counter to take you from behind, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other over your mouth to muffle your cries.

Fuck.

He should not be fisting his cock to the thought of you, especially with you sleeping one room over, but he can’t help himself. 

Ever since you moved in with him after you switched apartments with Cassian to escape the nightly fuck fest from Nesta and Cassian, Azriel hasn’t been able to keep you out of his late night thoughts. He knows it’s wrong, knows that imagining you riding his cock as he pumps his spit-slick length is fucked up, but you’re stuck on his brain. 

Tonight specifically, he does not give a fuck. He’s too horny for his own good, especially after seeing directly down your shirt when you fell into his arms. So, he continues to stroke himself, breathy grunts falling from his lips as his imagination runs wild. 

Azriel typically isn’t one to cum too quickly, but things have been different since you’d moved into the apartment. At first he’d told himself that he wasn’t having girls over so you wouldn’t have to listen to that, but deep down he knows that’s not the true reason. He’s utterly touch-starved and desperate for you only, so it only takes a few pumps with images of you flashing in his mind for him to finish into his fist, chest heaving and heart thumping against his ribs. 

It’s fine, it’s totally okay that he just came in less than five minutes to the thought of you riding his cock. 

Best friends do that sometimes…right?

________________________________

“So have you guys fucked yet?” Elain asks as she plops down on the couch next to you, making you nearly choke on your wine. 

It was your turn to host so-called “girl’s night” that Feyre and Mor insist on having every month, so you’re sitting in your living room with all three of the Archeron sisters, along with Mor and Amren, drinking wine and chatting about nothing in particular. 

You turn to look at the quietest Archeron sister, eyes wide in disbelief at her question. 

“I’m sorry?” you question, raising a brow at her as she smiles innocently at you.

“You and Az,” she clarifies nonchalantly, pouring herself another glass of white wine as she speaks, “have you guys finally gotten over yourselves and decided to confess your feelings and fuck?”

Elain is the last person in the room that you’d expect a question like that from, especially considering she’s the only one in the room with a history with your roommate. The two of them hooked up for a month or two last year, right before she met the love of her life, Lucien. There were no hard feelings between the two of them, but it was still an unexpected question coming from her. 

“Okay, you’re the second sister who’s asked me almost the same exact question about Az this week.” you say with narrowed eyes, shooting both Elain and Nesta glares as they smirk at you. “There’s nothing going on between us and there never will be. End of story.”

Your voice is firm, but that doesn’t stop the strange feeling that spreads across your chest as you speak. 

“Oh come on!” Mor calls out, shaking her head at you. “You can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that you feel nothing for him at all. I see the way the two of you look at each other and how you shamelessly flirt all the damn time.” 

“I don’t feel anything for him, I swear.” you retort quickly, trying to push your feelings down as they threaten to bubble over. “Even if I did feel anything for him, he doesn’t feel anything for me, so it doesn’t matter.”

Silence falls over the room as everyone exchanges knowing glances, making you groan as you feel out of the loop. 

“Why are you all looking at each other like that?” you huff, a frown pulling your lips down as you take another sip of your wine. 

“You really think that Azriel doesn't have feelings for you?” Feyre questions, making your frown deepen as you shake your head again. 

“You’re surely blind then, girl.” Amren calls out casually, shaking her head at you with slight disappointment. “That male is in love with you.”

“N–No he is not!” you nearly shriek, cheeks flushing at her words. “He is not in love with me! Like I’ve said before, we’re best friends, that’s all.”

Unconvinced murmurs spread through the room as you speak, making you laugh nervously. 

“Can we just–just drop it? I don’t wanna talk about Az anymore.” you ask finally, reaching for the remote on the coffee table, “We’re supposed to be watching that stupid dating show and taking shots every time someone cries for no good reason, so let’s do that instead.”

Nobody argues with you as you fumble with the remote, but exchange more knowing glances before continuing the night without another word about your roommate.

After four episodes of the cheesy dating show Mor had picked out to make fun of, everyone decides to call it a night, leaving you alone in the silence of your apartment. You know Azriel will be home from Cassian’s apartment soon, so you make quick work of cleaning up the living room so you can sneak into your room before he arrives. 

Unfortunately, the door to the apartment swings open and closed as you’re putting the last wine glass into the dishwasher. You look up to see a very annoyed Azriel standing in the middle of the living room, running his fingers through his hair as he sighs loudly. 

“Hey,” you say softly, frowning as you take in the exasperated expression on his face. “Are you alright?”

The harsh lines on his face soften slightly when he looks up at you, a frown mirroring your own replacing the scowl that he had before.

“Yeah–Yeah, I’m fine.” he replies, shaking his head quickly. “Cass and Nes just need to keep their noses out of my business is all.” 

“Oh? Are they very invested in your sex life too?” you say, forcing a teasing smile on your face. 

“Yes, it’s fucking annoying.” he groans while striding into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge, “I’m sure they say the same shit to you, I’m tired of them trying to push this fucking ridiculous idea of me asking you out. It’s getting old, they should know that’s never happening.” 

Fuck. 

Your smile falters for a millisecond before you let out a forced laugh, shaking your head as you ignore the way your heart sinks at his words. You knew he wasn’t interested, but he seems absolutely repulsed by the idea of asking you out. 

Is the idea of being in a relationship with you that disgusting?

“Yeah–That will definitely never happen.” you reply, your voice sounding a lot sadder than you’d planned. You point your gaze to your phone in your hand, pretending to check the time as you blink back a tear that threatened to spill at his reaction before taking a step towards your room. “I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight Az,” you say without looking up at the male once. 

You close the bedroom door behind you and throw yourself on your bed without a second thought, letting your tears finally spill down your cheeks as you tug the comforter over your body. 

If you weren’t thinking about finally letting your little crush on your roommate go before, you definitely are now.

________________________________

The environment in your apartment flips on its head after that night, mainly because you forced it to change. While laying in bed crying yourself to sleep after hearing his disgust, you’d decided that you wouldn’t allow yourself to get caught up on Azriel anymore, that you wouldn’t let yourself flirt with him constantly or even let yourself touch him because it would only complicate things more. 

So you’ve been keeping to yourself, not spending any time in the shared spaces of the apartment, and avoiding him unless absolutely necessary. 

Azriel always seems halfway offended when you shy away from his touch now, something like hurt swimming in his eyes when you don’t feed into his flirtation, but that’s not something you should worry about anymore, so you don’t let yourself think about it. 

Everyone around you is extremely worried about your well-being, as you haven’t shown interest in going to parties or dinner or doing anything with the group in the last few weeks. Little do they know, you’ve been avoiding them for two reasons; because you don’t want anyone to ask about Azriel again and because you don’t want to put yourself in the predicament of getting drunk enough to flirt with him again. 

Unfortunately for you, Nesta dragged you across the hall to their apartment tonight, insisting that you come spend some time with everyone instead of holing up in your bedroom like you have been every night. You let her drag you over to their apartment, mainly because your hurt has fizzled into anger now, so you’re okay with getting tipsy tonight to dull the sizzling irritation. 

After three too many seltzers and a few slices of pizza, you’re feeling less annoyed by your roommate’s presence. You’re sitting on one of the couches in Nesta’s apartment with the Archeron sisters and Lucien, giggling about anything and everything with the females while Lucien busies himself on his phone and massaging Elain’s scalp as she lays against his chest. Cassian and Azriel are on the adjacent couch, while Rhys, Mor and Amren are carrying on at the kitchen island in a heated argument about nothing in particular. 

“So, Y/N.” Feyre starts after taking a long sip of her white wine. “What have you been up to? It feels like we haven’t seen you in weeks.” 

“Oh, don’t even start with her.” Nesta groans, shooting a glare in your direction, “she won’t even tell me, her girl best friend, what’s been up her ass lately.” 

“I’ve told you a thousand times, Nes, I’m fine! I’ve just–just been trying to expand my horizons lately,” you say halfheartedly, slightly cowering under your best friend’s glare. “Just been trying new things, I even went on a date last night.”

“What?” all three sisters say in unison, eyes wide as they stare at you sitting between them.

“With who?” Feyre questions, and you realize that all other conversation in the room has stopped and all eyes are on you now. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, guys–”

“With who?” Nesta repeats, silver eyes narrowed as she stares you down. 

“E–Eris Vanserra.” you murmur, only loud enough for the sisters to hear clearly, a blush spreading across your face as you speak. 

“Did you just say Eris Vanserra?” Cassian questions from the other couch, staring at you expectantly. 

You can feel Azriel’s eyes boring holes into you from next to Cassian with his gaze, which makes sense considering you went on a date with a male that he’s hated for years. Little do they know, you two had a great time but decided it would just be a one-time thing due to some differences in relationship expectations, so things ended swiftly after you hooked up. 

“I did,” you say with a smirk, finally sliding your gaze to Azriel for just a moment, who seems extremely annoyed by your revelation, “Seems like going on a date with me isn’t a fucking ridiculous and repulsive idea to every male out there.” You turn back to the sisters, trying your hardest to avoid seeing how Azriel reacts to your snide remark, opting to describe the date in detail for the girls instead of looking at him. 

You successfully avoid any interaction with Azriel throughout the rest of the evening, though you feel his gaze on you multiple times. Eventually, the night dies down and you decide to head back to your apartment, in desperate need of some good rest. You hug your friends and promise you won’t disappear for so long anymore, knowing that Nesta will drag you out of your bedroom by the hair if you even try. 

You finally make it to your bed a little after midnight, cozying into the covers as you try to ignore the gnawing feeling in your chest that feels a little too similar to yearning for your comfort as you attempt to fall asleep.

________________________________

Azriel can’t sleep. Again.

And it’s because of you. Again. 

He’s not plagued with horny thoughts about you this time, but he truthfully wishes he was. It would be better than whatever this feeling was that was overtaking his chest. Every time he thinks back to the look on your face after your remark about going on a date with you being a fucking ridiculous and repulsive idea, his heart threatens to squeeze itself to death in his chest.  He can’t shake the image of your pain-filled eyes, can’t shake the thought of how you’ve avoided him at all costs since he made that remark all those weeks ago.

He knows he fucked up, knows he hurt you in a way that he’s unsure how to fix right now, but he knows that he has to win your trust back somehow.

________________________________

A week later, Azriel is leaning over the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cereal at 10pm when he hears the apartment door slam shut, followed by a sniffle and a stifled sob. 

Before he can stand up straight, you round the corner to the kitchen a small gasp falling from your lips when you see him standing there, fucking shirtless and too sexy, like he’s mocking you for another failed date. 

“S–Sorry, I didn’t hear you in here.” you say when you look up at him. 

“It’s fine, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he chuckles dryly, taking you in as you stand frozen in front of him. You’re wearing a satin emerald green cocktail dress that hugs your curves in the best way possible and black heels that make your legs look like they go on for days, your hair is mussed now, but he can tell that it was perfectly curled and styled before you left, along with your smudged mascara and worn-off lipstick. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, the remnants of tears pricking the corners of them as you try to blink them away. “Are–Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright.” you say, finally brushing past him to grab a glass from the cabinet before filling it with water. “Just another shitty date.”

“With Eris?” he questions angrily, shaking his head. “I swear, I’ll kick his ass–”

“No–Not with Eris. We broke things off after that first date.” you say with a humorless laugh before taking a sip of water, “It was some other guy that I thought would be nice, but he tried to fuck me before taking me out and got really–really fucking rude after I told him no, so I left. I hate stupid, one-and-done hookups like that.” you sigh before muttering under your breath, “Guess finding a nice guy who wants to actually go on a date with me without me putting out is a ridiculous idea.”

“Well, they’re all fucking stupid if they say they don’t want to date you.” Azriel mutters, rolling his eyes at the thought of someone turning you down when you went out looking like that. “Can’t believe some stupid fucker would see you turn up to his place looking like that and decide that he doesn’t want to show you off to the world.” 

“Az–”

“I’m serious, Y/N!” he all but yells, brow furrowing as he looks you over again. “You look beautiful even after crying half your makeup off, I can’t imagine how good you looked when he first saw you.”

“You don’t have to flatter me out of pity, I know you don’t find me attractive, Az.” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the male as he takes a step towards you.

“Who ever said I didn’t find you attractive?” he says, his voice dropping an octave as he reaches for your chin to make you look up at him. “Just because I fucked up all those weeks ago and said the idea of asking you on a date was ridiculous when I was angry and drunk doesn’t mean anything, I still find you so fucking attractive.”

“Azriel,” you warn, voice shaky as your mind races. Everything is happening so fast that you can’t truly process what he just said. “D–Don’t…”

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” he retorts, careful not to touch you anywhere else as he tries to think of how to navigate this situation, whether he should get on his knees to beg for your forgiveness or if he should just take you in his arms and kiss you until you forgive him. 

Your knees buckle at the nickname, one that you haven’t heard from him in so long. Usually, he only calls you that when you’re both tipsy and feeling extra flirtatious, but you know he’s stone-cold sober right now, making it all the more intriguing. In your mind, you’re convinced he still truly thinks the idea of going on a date with you is ridiculous, but he did just admit to finding you attractive, which makes you more turned on than it ever should. 

Oh, fuck it.

Without a second thought, you stand on your toes to lean up into him, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him down for a heated kiss. Azriel almost stumbles away when your lips press to his, but his hands fall to your waist to steady himself as you deepen the kiss. His mind is buzzing as your tongue slips out, teasing his lower lip before biting it between kisses. After a few seconds, Azriel pulls away, panting slightly as he looks down at you with wild eyes. 

“I–I, what are you doing, sweetheart?” he questions in a hushed tone. 

“I think I need you, Az.” you say desperately, a slight pout on your face as you stare up at the male. 

“But, you were just complaining about how you hate hookups.” he murmurs as you stand on your toes in an attempt to reach his lips again. 

As much as he wants to take you right here and right now, he doesn’t want it to be because of an emotional tirade on your part.

You know it’s fucked up that you’re so turned on for your roommate right now, especially after getting mad at the male who tried to fuck you earlier, but you don’t care. You don’t want anything or anyone but him right now, despite your clouded emotions and any hurt you still carry for the male in front of you. 

“Is this just a hookup to you?” you retort before shaking your head to cut him off before he can speak, “A–Actually, don’t answer that right now. I just know that I need you right now. I don’t care if you hate me or however you feel about me.” 

“Gods, I do want you.” he murmurs, pulling you up for a quick kiss. “But I need you to tell me that you want me right now.”

“I want you, Az. I need you.” you say against his lips, “I–I’m yours tonight if you’ll have me. No strings attached tonight, I just–just need you. I’ll never mention this again if you don’t want me to.”

Something snaps in Azriel then and he can’t hold back anymore. He grabs your hips then, pulling you up to sit you on top of the kitchen island with your legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss he pulls you into is desperate and hot, your tongues and teeth clashing as his hands hastily push your dress up to your waist, revealing the black lace thong underneath. His hand glides between your thighs, fingertips grazing over the lace to feel the heat already pooling at your core.

“Fuck, love.” he murmurs against your lips, “You’re so wet, aren’t you?”

“Y–Yes,” you squeak out, hips bucking involuntarily against his hand. “So–So wet for you, Az.”

“Yeah? Just for me?” he teases, a smirk growing on his face as he circles your clit through the fabric, “Want me to taste this sweet cunt and make you cum on my tongue?”

You breathe in a ragged breath at his crude words, nodding feverishly at him as your mind spins at the sudden change in his demeanor. He just chuckles then, pulling your hips to the edge of the counter while also pushing your thong to the side to give him a full view of your glistening core as he shifts to his knees. Azriel mutters something under his breath then, two fingers teasing your clit before licking a stripe up your cunt, making you gasp loudly. 

“F–Fuck!” you whine, hand falling to his head as he eats you out like a man starved with loud smacking of his lips to match. 

“You like that, baby?” he says when he pulls away momentarily, positioning your legs over his shoulders before sliding a finger into your heat. “I bet those other stupid fuckers didn’t eat you out like this, did they?”

“I–I, they never did, n–never have.” you gasp, grinding your hips against his face when he dives back in with a chuckle. 

“What a shame, a cunt this pretty deserves to be devoured at any possible time.” he murmurs against your slick skin, slipping another finger in, “Want you to cum all over my face before I even get a chance to fuck you tonight, you deserve it, love.”

“‘M already–already fucking close, f–feels so good.” you retort, tugging at his hair as he pumps three fingers into your cunt while focusing his tongue on your throbbing clit, pulling moans out of you in a way you didn’t know was possible until now. 

Azriel only hums against your clit, letting his fingers set a brutal pace inside you as he licks and sucks on your sensitive bundle of nerves. He wraps an arm around your waist then, pulling you close to him to stabilize your squirming body as he continues his assault on your core. 

“Such a good girl with such a sweet little cunt,” he praises, gazing up at you while he licks at you once more, “Can’t believe I’ve never gotten to taste you before, don’t know if I’ll be able to share after this, love. You’re making the prettiest noises for me and I don’t want anyone else to hear them.”

“Then d–don’t share, o–oh fuck!” you whimper, thighs quaking as you feel your orgasm approaching. 

“Let me claim your pussy, sweetheart. C’mon, make a mess of my tongue and fingers.” he coaxes between licks, three fingers pressing into you quickly as you cry out loudly, “That’s it, baby. Yeah, I know, I know. Let go, love.”

Your vision blacks momentarily when you reach your peak, chanting his name loudly as he fingers you through your orgasm, cooing softly while pressing kisses to your inner thighs when you finally come down from your high. 

There’s a smirk plastered on Azriel’s face when he finally rises from his knees, lips glistening with your slick while he continues to slowly pump his fingers into you. Your mouth gapes slightly when his thumb presses into your overly-sensitive clit, and you reach for his wrist to stop him as overstimulation wracks your body.

“You did so good, sweetheart.” he coos, ignoring your silent protest for him to remove his fingers as he leans down to steal your lips in a kiss. “So good for me.”

“A–Az, I–I can’t.” you whine, bucking your hips when his thumb brushes your clit again. 

“You want me to stop?” he questions, though he already knows the real answer.

“I–I want you to fuck me.” you plead, shaking your head to cut him off before he gives you a smart reply about fucking you with his fingers. “Want your cock, please.”

“How could I say no when you ask so sweetly?” he coos, finally pulling his fingers from your dripping heat to pull your body flush with his. “Let’s go to my room, yeah?”

“Yes, sir.” you say jokingly, but the nickname triggers something in Azriel as he wraps your legs around his waist to carry you to his room, a low growl ripping from his throat.

“Don’t call me that if you can’t handle what will come after.” he warns, eyes dark as he pushes through the door to his bedroom. 

“What if I can handle it, sir?” you tease, biting your lip as you look up at him with wide, doe eyes. 

“Oh, you’re in for it now, sweetheart.” he growls, tossing you into the middle of his bed, “Strip for me, baby.”

Both of you make quick work of stripping out of your clothes, desire thick in the air as you make desperate glances at each other. After tossing your underwear and dress to the side, you crawl on your hands and knees to the edge of the bed in front of him. You reach your hand out for his cock once it springs free from his boxers, ignoring the nervous feeling in your chest when you see how large he is. 

“So–So big,” you remark, eyes wide as you stare at it.

Your eyes meet his as you lean into his cock, eager to wrap your lips around the leaking, red tip, but his hand in your hair holds you back before you take it into your mouth. 

“As much as I would love to see you choke and cry with your pretty lips around my cock, we’ll save that for another time. I need to fuck you, right now.” he says in a low voice, pupils blown with lust as he tugs you up to be face-to-face with him. “Is that alright with you, sweetheart? Can I fuck you senseless with my big cock?”

“Y–Yes, sir.” you say, nodding desperately at him. 

“Good girl, now lay back on the pillows for me.” he instructs, following you onto the bed to kneel between your spread legs. 

One of his large hands rests on your inner thigh while the other grasps his thick length, tugging on it lightly as he guides himself to your entrance. There’s a beat of hesitation as he slides his tip along your dripping folds, and he looks up at you for a moment.

“I’m–I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, please–please Az. Just fuck me.” you beg, hips canting up into his to make him groan loudly. 

“I’m clean, too. You sure about this though, sweetheart?” he questions, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation but finding none, “Because once I start, I’m not gonna be nice, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to give up this sweet cunt, you might be mine forever once I fuck you.”

“Yes–fuck, yes. I’m all yours, sir.” you say breathlessly, a pout on your lips as you beg.

“Alright, sweetheart. Now be a good girl, stay still and take what I give you, alright?” he retorts, gripping your hip as he finally slides into you with a groan. “Fuck, that’s so good, baby.”

Your mind goes blank when he bottoms out, feeling so fucking full as his cock nudges against your cervix at the perfect angle. A strangled moan falls from your lips when he starts to move, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as pleasure nearly blinds you.

“Look at you, such a good little slut.” he teases as he picks up the pace. “Already crying for me, sweetheart? Is my cock that good?”

“Y–Yes, so fucking big, sir. F–Feel so good, so–so full.” you whine, eyes squeezing shut with tears streaming down your cheeks as he continues to pound into you. 

“That’s it, your tight cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?” he grunts, one hand falling from your hip to wrap around your throat experimentally, fingers splayed over the soft skin gently for now. 

Your eyes snap open at the feeling of his hand around your neck, looking at him with wide eyes as he smirks down at you mischievously. He gives your throat a squeeze then, making you moan wildly at the feeling of your breathing being constricted and relinquishing control to him. There’s a feral look in his eye at your reaction, making him chuckle while his hips connect with yours roughly.

“Ohh, look at that.” he purrs mockingly, letting his hand squeeze around your throat a little tighter now. “You like being choked don’t you?” he asks, earning a subtle nod from you, “You love it when I’m in control like this, huh? You like it when I hold you down and make you take everything I give you and take your breath away?”

“Y–Yes! Fuck, I love it so much, sir.” you reply eagerly, hips bucking up to meet his as your fingers find your clit. “I–I’m gonna cum. I’m so close, s–sir.”

“Go ahead and cum on my cock, love.” he growls, his length pumping into you relentlessly. “I’m not gonna stop until I cum deep in you, though. Gonna let you milk my cock like a good little whore and then fill you with my cum, alright?”

You can only nod, mind blank once again as your walls flutter around him while he mutters degrading yet praising things to you as he continues to bully his cock deep into you. After this second orgasm of the night, you’re on such a high that you can’t think straight anymore, only babbling nonsense falls from your lips as Azriel’s groans and the smell of your arousal fills the air.

“I’m close, sweetheart.” Azriel warns finally, pushing your own hand away from your clit to rub circles around it with the hand that’s not wrapped around your neck. “Gonna cum with me, baby?”

“Y–Yes, gonna cum on your cock, sir.” you moan, the first coherent sentence you’ve said in a few minutes, feeling that familiar coil winding in your gut once again. “C–Cum in me, please.”

That’s all the encouragement Azriel needs before he’s reaching his own high, cock fully seated in you as his hips stutter. He mutters sweet words to you under his breath as you cum with him, bodies as close together as they can be without melting into each other. 

It takes Azriel a few minutes to collect himself, panting against your skin as he finally releases you from his hold and rolls off of you. He looks to you then, seeing a blissful smile plastered on your face as your eyes are halfway closed, euphoria mixing with exhaustion as you catch your breath. 

“Hi, sweetheart. You did so good for me, such a good girl.” he mumbles to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead as you murmur to him under your breath. “Gonna go get some stuff to clean you up, alright?” 

You nod tiredly at him, watching as he slides some boxers before leaving the room. He returns only a minute later with a glass of water, a wet washcloth and a makeup remover wipe. He rummages through a dresser drawer for a sleep shirt as well, setting it next to you on the bed. Your heart flutters as he sits down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to help you sit up. 

“Drink for me, sweetheart.” he coaxes, smiling down at you while holding the cup of water to your lips. 

You almost finish the entire glass before you pull away and he sets it on the bedside table, then gets to work wiping off your thighs. He switches the washcloth out for the makeup wipe once he’s satisfied, reaching up to clean off your face. 

“I can take my makeup off, Az.” you giggle, trying to reach for the makeup wipe but he pulls it out of your reach. 

“No, no. Let me.” he insists, wiping gently at your cheeks, lips and eyes to get the remnants of your makeup that wasn’t wiped away off. 

You sit up fully after he finishes, reaching for the shirt he’d sat next to you in order to slide it over your body. He walks to the other side of the bed after that, pulling himself under the covers as you turn to look at him with wide eyes. 

“What?” he questions, brow furrowed as you stare at him with a sad look in your eyes. 

“Can–Can I stay in here with you tonight?” you ask meekly, afraid of how he might react. 

“Of course, why would I kick you out, love?” he says gently, pulling the comforter up to invite you to cuddle with him. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get some rest, okay?”

You smile weakly at him before climbing up to his side, letting his arm fall around your waist as you rest your head on his chest while he presses a kiss to your forehead. You know you should be worried about what’s to come tomorrow, but in the moment, while sitting in Azriel’s warm embrace, you couldn’t care less.

________________________________

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

The most peaceful sleep Azriel has had in months is interrupted by an incessant knocking on the front door of the apartment. He groans loudly before opening his eyes while rolling over, eyes falling onto your sleeping form. 

His heart skips a beat at the sight of you snuggled into his comforter, chest rising and falling steadily as you sleep peacefully in his fucking bed. Warmth fills his chest as he admires you, but is soon interrupted by another annoying knock on the front door. He leans down then, pressing a kiss to your temple that makes you giggle softly in your sleep, before sneaking out of the bed to slip a pair of sweats on to open the door. 

The front door swings open to reveal Nesta and Cassian on the other side, both with amused expressions on their faces and bags filled with food in their hands. 

“What do you guys want?” Azriel questions, narrowing his eyes on the couple. 

Nesta shoulders past him, pushing into the apartment to make her way into the kitchen to rummage through the bags of food at the kitchen island. 

“Excuse you,” Azriel scoffs, internally cringing as his mind flashes back to what he’d done on that very counter the night before. “Who said you could just barge in here like this?” 

“It’s Saturday morning, we always have breakfast with you guys and neither you or your roommate were answering your phones, so we thought we’d just come over.” Nesta says casually. “Where is Y/N anyways?” 

“Sleeping.” Azriel says too quickly, panic spreading through his chest as he watches the couple make themselves at home, knowing that you’ll likely wake up soon and have to face them as you walk out of his bedroom. “Why don’t I just let you know when she wakes up and you guys can just come back when we’re ready?” 

“Sleeping? Where?” Cassian says incredulously, glancing at Y/N’s bedroom, noting the open door and empty, perfectly made bed before realization falls over his face. “No fucking way.”

“Cassian, I swear to the fucking Gods–” 

“What? What just happened?” Nesta questions, finally looking up from the counter and to Azriel, noting his mussed hair and the ghost of a lipstick stain on the corner of his jaw. “Holy fuck. You guys finally did it.” 

“Can you both shut the fuck up?” Azriel interjects, a frown etched onto his face as he glares at the couple. “Yes, we fucked. It was a heat of the moment thing and–and we haven’t really discussed what happens next. So I’d appreciate if neither of you were here when she wakes up so I can actually say what I need to say without you two fuckers staring at me expectantly.”

“Are you finally gonna confess that you’ve been in love with her since you first met her and that you can’t stand the thought of her being with anyone else but you?” Cassian questions with a knowing smirk, earning a withering glare from Azriel. “What? Those are your drunken words, not mine!”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m going to say yet, but I know that you both need to get out of here.” he hisses, starting to usher the couple out. “Breakfast is on me today, repayment for bailing on you guys, okay? Just request me the money and get the hell out of here. You two will be the first to know about what happens, I’m sure.” 

Both Cassian and Nesta make their way out of the apartment begrudgingly, leaving Azriel alone to walk back to his bedroom. You’re still asleep when he walks in, but stir slightly when he closes the door and slides under the covers next to you. Your eyes flutter open only moments after he presses his body against yours, your brow furrows as you take in your surroundings, obviously forgetting what happened last night in your post-sleep haze. Eventually, you look over to him, an expression somewhere between a frown and a half-smile on your face.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, giving you space to sit up in the bed as you stretch your limbs and prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Morning,” you say with a tired smile, a blush creeping up on your cheeks as you look over at him. “I–I almost forgot about last night.” 

“Yeah?” he chuckles, smiling down at you adoringly, “I definitely didn’t.”

You’re silent for a moment, mind whirring as you think of what to say to him. Your chest feels like it’s going to cave in at the thought of Az wanting to continue being your fuck-buddy, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle being sexually involved without romantic involvement with him. It would fuel your crush way too fucking much. You tell yourself that you just need to lie to his face and say that it was a mistake, that it didn’t mean anything, but he speaks before you get a chance to let your word vomit come out. 

“Okay, okay. I can see you internally freaking out already.” Azriel chuckles nervously, fully sitting up in the bed before reaching out to cup your cheek and get your attention. You look up at him and his hazel eyes are swimming with a mix of wonder and nervousness. “Let’s talk about it, okay? I, for one, had a really good time last night.”

“I–I did too.” you stammer, heart pounding against your ribs as your stomach churns. “B–But I can’t do it again.”

“And why is that?” he questions, a frown pulling his lips down. 

“Because I know you don’t want anything out of this, I–I know you wouldn’t want to be involved with me romantically and–and I can’t handle that.” you say, forcing yourself to look away from him, eyes focused on the comforter in front of you instead. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s not want at all.” he starts, shaking his head rapidly. “I want to be involved with you romantically, I was drunk and upset when I said that it would be a ridiculous idea to ask you out. I only said that because I thought you didn’t want me. I didn’t know you felt the same and was trying to protect myself. But–But now that I know you feel the same and that I hurt you by saying that, I’ll work my ass off every day to prove to you that this is not some meaningless fooling around and that I need you in my life. That I need to wake up next to you every morning and that I think I might’ve been falling for you since I met you in all honesty. I need you to know that you mean so much to me and I’m not just here for some quick fuck, okay?”

“I–I,” you stammer, at a loss for words at his confession. “You better not be lying to me, Azriel. Because I think I’ve been falling for you for just as long.”

“Oh thank the fucking Gods.” he sighs, finally leaning down to pull you in for a sweet kiss. “I promise to prove to you every day that I’m not lying, that I’m in it for the long haul.”

You giggle against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him as close to you as possible, heart filling so fucking full as his warm lips press against yours.

“Was I dreaming earlier or did I hear someone pounding on the door a little bit ago?” you question when you pull away from the very long-winded kiss.

“It was Nes and Cass coming here for Saturday breakfast, but I told them to fuck off.” Azriel replies with a chuckle.

“Do you think we should go tell them what happened?” you ask, eyes wide as you think of your friends finding out about you sleeping in Azriel’s bed without you knowing. 

“I think they’ll get the memo if we take the day to spend by ourselves, don’t you?” he retorts, peppering soft kisses down your neck.

“I definitely agree,” you giggle, leaning into his embrace, “I don’t know if I wanna leave this bed today.”

“I definitely agree.” Azriel mimics, laying down on the bed and pulling you up to straddle his waist. “I have just a few things I’d like to do instead of visiting with them.”

tags (add yourself here!!): @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @Bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @Buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace @feyretopia @mad-hatters-lover @kissesfromnovalie @mulledwinetea @saltedcoffeescotch @mrsjna @chillymountsjess @azriels-human @messageforthesmallestman @delphinefour04 @kbear8863 @secretsicanthideanymore @randomgurl2326 @shushsstuff @Caitm1 @eeniemeenie @esahintzkanen @lafawndiaries @homeslices @juliebluehufflepuff @portkeytomyworld @ashjade19 @wildfloweroutlaw @lilah-asteria @dreamsandatars24 @korebringerofded

[caffeinatelove]

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟdating reo and nagi

𝐛𝐲𝐫: these are just headcanons! female reader, polyamory, intended lowercase, includes swearing, possible out of character / mischaracterisation, fluff, very reader-centred and indulgent, suggestive & sexual themes!

getting together wasn’t something any of you had planned.

perhaps you went to hakuho high as well, crossing paths with the two by getting into group projects and sharing bento at lunch. or maybe you were hired as something like a health nutritionist for blue lock, having to essentially babysit them when reo would huff about his experienced palate not allowing him to stomach such cheap side dishes and then nagi who would barely eat due to his own exhaustion.

either way, one thing became clear immediately: you had caught their attention.

reo made it obvious from the start. or at least he tried to.

he was charming, confident and somehow always knew what to say. time and time again he found ways to be around you. shamelessly complimenting you. spoiling you. doting on you.

the mere thought of having two people to pamper and look after was very appealing. so to say reo was doing everything in his power to get you, would be an accurate statement.

but truth be told, you were a bit oblivious to his advances. under the impression that reo was just a very charismatic man who had more money than sense you figured that he acted this way with all of his friends. because he sure did act like it with nagi.

oh boy, how wrong you were.

then there was nagi who took way longer to confront the fact that he might be interested in two people at once. it wasn’t that he didn’t like you, but he just didn’t know what to do with the feeling. and the confusion only intensified once he noticed how worked up reo was getting over you.

liking one person? sure. but two? that was a thought he needed warming up to!

the realisation hit him like a semi truck one day, whilst watching you and reo laugh together. something unfamiliar bloomed in his chest, realising that he didn’t want to indulge in that moment with just reo.

but you, too.

it took months of forced proximity, lingering touches and moments where it was clear that the three of you were happiest when together, for nagi to finally accept it.

and by the time you made it official? nothing really changed since the three of you had been each other’s for a long time.

anyways, being in a relationship with the two left you constantly showered in affection. because while the boys did have their own moments together, and lots of them, their mutual obsession with you was what truly defined the relationship.

nagi is clingy as hell, especially. not in the traditional way because he’s not really whiny or needy about it, but if you’re within reach? trust that you’re getting cuddled like a doll.

the first time it happens you’re really caught off guard. you assume he’s too engaged with some video game on his phone to even notice you walking past, but without looking up, he’ll mumble. "ah, y/n. sit with me."

pleasantly surprised, you move to sit next to your boyfriend on the couch, but that’s when he balanaces his phone in one hand — grabbing your waist in guidance and pulling you casually onto his lap with the other.

incredibly flustered, you try to balance yourself on his broad shoulders. "seishirou, i can’t really see what you’re doing like this–"

he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder, pressing his chest to your own as he continues to play. "just stay. please?"

it doesn’t matter if he’s playing video games and suddenly needs a new form of motivation. or if he’s just doomscrolling on his phone and needs someone to share his love for mindless media consumption with, or even if he’s half asleep in bed and needs a cuddle buddy. if you pass by, he’s tugging you into his lap. as well as claiming that it’s too much effort to sit alone. (somehow)

reo, on the other hand, is definitely more outright romantic.

i feel like he’s big on those sickeningly sweet pet names, and princess is his trademark favourite. sometimes it’ll be innocent, merely calling out to you. sometimes he’ll say it with a smirk, and sometimes it’ll be whispered against your ear to fluster you.

it’s kind of like a secret weapon — he enjoys how you get embarrassed so easily. and it’s kind of satisfying to see his charm get put to good use again after having to face nagi’s constant nonchalance. which can be a bit of a confidence killer.

and on the note of embarrassed, no matter how much you insist you don’t need something, reo will still find a way to buy you whatever you want. whenever you try to disregard it, it kind of just makes him want to get it for you even more. what you can do? the boy loves a good challenge.

"reo, this is way too much. i swear, i’m not spoiled, i don’t need it.” you’ll ramble, unable to tear your eyes away from the price tag on the vivienne westwood purse you initially swooned over.

he’ll snort. "that’s cute, princess. now tell me which colour you like best, just so i can go and buy both anyways."

nagi, who’ll also be chilling during the mini impromptu shopping spree, chimes in. "i think the leather one suits her more."

"great taste, treasure. here, i’ll get someone to ring up both."

your mouth falls slack in a gape of exasperation.

reo has stated that he’s a guy who typically gets what he wants. and what he wants? you. you and nagi, wrapped up in the little world the three of you built together.

and you guys barely go out anyways, unless it’s reo dragging you to some new expensive place he wishes to visit.

"this is way too fancy." you’ll mutter, looking around the luxurious restaurant. from the candlelit dinner to the impeccable view of the city hanging just below you. it was indescribable.

"it’s not often that we get time away from blue lock. besides, you deserve the best." he’ll smile at you, pretty smug as he can tell how enthralled you are by everything.

"mhm. she does." nagi will hum, biting into his wagyu with surprising energy.

reo will laugh under his breath, turning to face him now although the adoration in his gaze doesn’t waver. "you just like that i pay for everything."

"mhm. i do." nagi responds, completely unbothered as he shoves another piece into his mouth.

when you’re not going on dates dressed to the nines, though, most of your time together will be spent chilling at home. and in the off chance that they’re free for a whole weekend, you’ll usually wake up completely sandwiched between your two boyfriends'.

reo loves spooning you, burying his face into the back of your hair and pressing soft kisses where he can reach. while nagi would be pressed against you like a koala until his long limbs reach reo, totally trapping you in the middle.

"err, guys, i need to get up." you’ll grumble once the time comes, unable to free yourself from the vice-like hold of two athletes.

"no, you don’t." reo will sleepily counter.

and if anything, you saying that just makes nagi tighten his hold. "mmm. stay.”

domestically wholesome moments like that were truthfully your favourite, and as more time went on, the more they occurred.

upon lounging in his house one day, you noticed that nagi had his own 'pet' cactus, named choki. you asked reo about it, not really expecting your other boyfriend to have anything… live, but once he explained it to you, you thought it was totally adorable. it was surprisingly thriving, too. which showed that that your boyfriend actually did have the willpower to take care of things!

even if a cactus was extremely low maintenance.

you found yourself buying a 'pet' flower of your choice to match. bringing it round to nagi’s house often and watering it next to his, as if it were an actual pet going on a play date. he adored this, and entertained the thought of it completely.

reo, who quickly caught onto the whole thing, also bought a succulent of his own in order to not be left out. it only took a few days of him bragging about how his was the healthiest, until nagi quietly pointed out that his succulent was actually fake.

they totally argued about it, reo growing heated in defence and nagi trying to prove himself right by lazily tugging on one of the succulent leaves. it wouldn’t budge, showing its synthetic material, but reo would just swat his boyfriend’s hand away, telling him to lay off his child. you watered your flower in the corner, sheepishly humming to yourself.

yeah, your boyfriends' were very silly. but in saying that, it was also majorly why they were very loveable. and you often found yourself wanting to repay all the love they’d shown you up until now. one day, whilst shopping alone — because you knew that if you went with them it’d be a day to never end — you stumbled upon possibly the cutest sanrio plushies known to man, and you decided to pick one out for both of them.

you land on grabbing a gudetama plushie for nagi. you think it’s extremely fitting seeing as they’re both severely sleepy creatures. which was mostly the driving force behind choosing it. then, going a bit niche, you decided to get a plushie of tuxedo sam for reo. they both looked put together and very handsome. so you thought: why not?

reo pretended not to fawn over the gesture of you getting him a plushie, and a childish sanrio one at that, but he definitely sleeps with it every night. nagi just straight up uses it as his pillow. unapologetically.

now hear me out i feel like they also have moments where they compete against each other just for fun and just because they can.

like one day, you steal one of reo’s hoodies just to relax in, and he absolutely loves it.

"is that mine? you look so good in it. you know what? keep it, princess." he’ll immediately insist, practically drooling over the sight in front of him.

nagi will notice it too, of course, but he doesn’t say a word.

the next day, you wake up with a different hoodie draped across you. blinking curiously, it takes a moment for you to realise that it’s actually nagi’s. it’s basic and black so you don’t come to that realisation for any particular reason other than the fact that you’re practically swimming in it, due to how oversized it is.

"did you put that on her while she was sleeping?" reo will sigh.

"maybe." nagi hums.

"oh my gosh." you stifle a laugh, bunching the sleeves up to your elbows.

reo will heave a laugh, turning to his boyfriend, "you’re unbelievable."

"mmm. but she’s wearing mine now."

jealous nagi is a real concept! like maybe you go to reo specifically for help one day, before praising the boy on whatever it is that he helped you out with.

nagi overhears the entire interaction, simply staring blankly at the two of you, and you think nothing more of it. because that is classic nagi behaviour if you’ve ever seen it.

until later on, you decide to ask him for help with something, maybe like opening a jar or grabbing an item that you keep on the very top cabinet. and he’s fully aware of what he’s doing when he tells you to "go ask reo."

the sheer pettiness in his words makes you giggle, and you can’t help but to ruffle his white locks. "ah, you’re not jealous, are you?"

"i don’t know what you mean." he refuses to help you out for a solid ten minutes before eventually giving in to your head scratches.

and no, these sweet moments you share with your boyfriends' aren’t limited to just time spent away from blue lock. whenever you’re there, in the compound, you’re always checking on the two specifically.

even going as far as to be their cheerleader when you had the time.

reo loves when you call out his name mid-game. he acts all cool on the field but the moment he hears you screaming at the top of your lungs his ego is fully restored.

meanwhile, when you cheer for nagi, it kind of distracts him. but in a way, that kind of gets his head more in the game once he realises it. it’s like your voice elicits a subconscious urge to play harder.

the moment their match is over, their attention is focused on one thing, and that’s on immediately jogging over to you. before you can even react, you’re being attacked with affection. reo kisses you first, it’s deep and full of energy. then nagi follows instantly, pressing slow lazy kisses along your jaw.

of course this prompts immense curiosity from the rest of blue lock. as, whoever was unfortunate enough to witness such a display of public affection, realises that isn’t just some weird bromance you intruded on, anymore. no. something was there. and that’s what led the three of you to eventually confess the truth about your relationship.

“so, uh… how does that even work?"

everyone’s supportive, of course. chigiri snickers, saying something along the lines of how he knew the entire time. kunigami is taken aback by the weirdly modern relationship style, but he gives the three of you a strained smile regardless. gagamaru nods curtly. bachira bounces with excitement for the happy revelation. even rin seems to just shrug at the news.

but isagi’s blunt question still echoes in the confined room. his gaze alters from nagi to reo before finally settling on you. you can tell that he’s just genuinely curious about the dynamic when he adds on,

"like, do you guys take turns? or–"

igaguri suddenly shouts from next to him. "what kind of a perverted ass question is that, isagi?! i know you’re curious, but have some decency like the rest of us!"

"what?!" the other boy immediately turns into a defensive flustered mess. "i didn’t mean it like–i wasn’t talking about that! not a very holy assumption for you to make!"

you can’t help but to bury your face into your hands. reo simply snorts. nagi couldn’t care less; at least everyone knows now.

there were some disadvantages that came with it, too, though. like the occasional bad reaction from the other jerks that happened to reside in blue lock for the time being.

"three people…" kaiser would scoff in his thick accent, eyeing you in judgement once word got around to him. "some relationship. is this not just glorified cheating?"

"not really, no." nagi would hum calmly.

noticing his disinterest, kaiser then tries to provoke your other boyfriend. "aren’t you a mikage? guess that explains the predicament. people with their daddy’s money always crave for more.”

"hey! don’t assume such things." reo barks. he was wholeheartedly about to square up, had nagi not been holding him back.

ignoring them, he then tilts his head mockingly towards you. "and you. so selfish you really need to have two boyfriends? women these days. never satisfied."

kaiser’s misogynistic insult hits you with about the same impact of a soggy tissue. you just look up at him in amusement. "yep."

that was quite a loaded statement to make. seeing as you were more than satisfied with your boyfriends'.

in fact, isagi wasn’t entirely in the wrong to ask such a question. the truth was, you did tend to take turns. it was …less overwhelming that way. although less was subjective. because when it came to reo and nagi, neither of them knew when to stop.

you recalled a few nights ago. how reo would exhale a worn out laugh, sprawled out on the bed, knowing he’s already had his way with you and then some. "hey, treasure, careful. you’re gonna overstimulate her."

nagi would hum, still lapping at your spongy walls despite your last orgasm having washed over you a good few moments ago. "mmm. she likes it." he argues. knowingly.

he’d been eating you out for the better half of twenty minutes. how his jaw wasn’t tired yet was still a mystery. turns out mr hassle man really did have energy for things he deemed important. and turning you into a complete mess? was of utter importance. and it was a victory that came rather easily. maybe you’d be holding up a bit better if reo hadn’t been previously pounding into you at a merciless pace.

“guys.” you’d whine, helplessly reaching for reo who immediately takes pity on you, shifting closer so you can cuddle him, "but i already… three times..."

reo coos, a heavy palm settling on one of your boobs as if to remind you that this is far from over. "you wanted both of us, sweet girl. don’t act like you can’t take it now."

his words make your face flush in embarrassment. and simultaneously, leave arousal coursing through your veins.

“now, you gonna be good and come again for nagi?" his thumb runs across your sensitive nipple, toying with it.

just when you’re about to confess that you don’t think you can handle it, nagi seems to use the last slither of effort he has stored up inside him. lifting his head up slightly, he parts his lips before gently wrapping them around your clit and sucking on it.

with a surprised moan you claw at reo’s chest, entire body trembling at the sheer intensity of the sensation.

“there it is. come on.” reo coaxes, noticing the familiar shiver in your body. yep. you’re close again. you don’t get much sleep at all that night. but let’s just say, your boyfriends know how to take care of you.

the next day, at the blue lock compound,

"woah, l/n-san, is everything okay?" bachira would wonder aloud, noticing the very obvious limp in your step during breakfast.

"yep!" you’d squeak, unable to face the boy without shame settling on your face in a warm red hue.

while you never really paid much thought to polyamory in the past, you wouldn’t change a thing about your relationship now. you loved your two boys, and that wasn’t going to change. જ⁀➴ ㅤᰔ

[james-bucky-barnackle]

I mean?

Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N

Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.

A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.

It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.

You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.

The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.

“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.

“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.

“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.

The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”

“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.

“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.

“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”

“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”

“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”

“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”

“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.

“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”

Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”

You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”

The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.

“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,

“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“Oh, you have?”

You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”

“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”

“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”

He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”

“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.

“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”

You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.

You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.

“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”

“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”

Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”

You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”

The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”

Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.

You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”

You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.

Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”

You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”

Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”

You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you. 

The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”

Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”

You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.” 

Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.

The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”

You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.

“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”

He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”

“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”

Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”

“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.

Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”

“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Eight it is."

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[chososbabymama]

Boyfriend!Sukuna who has a habit of saying ‘no’ when you ask him to do something as he immediately gets up to do what you asked.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who buys your pitbull a thick gold chain, ‘so the other dogs at the park take her seriously.’

Boyfriend!Sukuna who SWORE he wasn’t interested in your silly little tv shows but sits with you every Sunday to watch South Central Baddies.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who has a habit of chewing on things (bottle caps, pen caps, straws, etc.) so you buy him flavored toothpicks after he chewed the bottom of your favorite pen.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who bought you a huge bouquet of flowers because he knew you’d been feeling depressed the past couple of weeks and he missed seeing you smile.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who openly expresses his love for the way you handle Yuji, treating his nephew more like a son (Yuji definitely calls his uncle ‘dad’, and it makes both of you beam with joy each time).

Boyfriend!Sukuna who took great pleasure in being able to provide for you, taking you on trips, paying for your hair, treating you to dinner. In his mind, it was his way of saying thank you for taking care of him and being there . Always making sure Yuji was taken care of, doing the grocery shopping, not to mention you doing your own work for graduate school, Ryomen Sukuna would be a fool to not show you how much he valued you and your efforts.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who doesn't care to impress your folks. He knew he was a brash man, a little rough around the edges, that he wasn't the type of person your parents imagined you'd end up with. It'd taken 4 shots of Tito's and winning gin rummy against your father for them to start opening up to him (your favorite part of that night was when they'd decided to do a duet and sing I Like It by DeBarge)

Boyfriend!Sukuna who remembers your first date, how nervous he was sitting across from you that night. The poor man had spilled his glass of water all over himself because he was so nervous (he’ll deny it was nerves and claim the waiter bumped the table), accidentally stepped on your toes under the table (several times), and even caught part of his jacket sleeve on fire from reaching over the tables candle. What broke him was when he tried buying you flowers on the way home to try and make up for it, you BOTH were horrified to see hives suddenly break out on your skin and find out through a late night ER trip that your were allergic to that specific flower. Sukuna wont admit this either but he cried like a baby in your hospital room and again when you talked later and said you still wanted to go on a 2nd date with him (appalling luck aside, the date went extremely well).

Boyfriend!Sukuna who likes to bite you. He’ll be lying on your stomach while you use his back to read your book, when you first feel him start to suck on your tummy you don’t think much of it. As soon as you feel teeth you move your hands and look down to see your boyfriend with your tummy LITERALLY in his mouth, wide red eyes boring into yours as if you weren't essentially being used as a chew toy.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who'd gotten your name tattooed around his ring finger after your 7th date.

Boyfriend!Sukuna who was more excited than you when building your first pillow fort, arranging several pillows and blankets around you both to make a nest of sorts (he wasn't at all amused when you'd asked him if his omegas heat instincts were kickin in)

Boyfriend!Sukuna who feels the square velvet box burn a hole in his pocket. His fingers drum against the table anxiously as he watches you play with Yuji, wondering if you wanted the same things he did. But suddenly, you and his nephew turn in his direction. You’d taken one of Yuji’s hands and waved it his way, both of you having wide smiles on your faces as you giggle and tell the young boy to, “say hi to big grumpy!” At that moment Sukuna knew there was no way in hell he'd let another day go by without putting a ring on your finger.

Husband!Sukuna who watches you and Yuji make a house for the gingerbread family in the kitchen. He watched with adoring eyes as the boy in your arms picks up 3 gingerbreads, all decorated differently. With a wide, toothy grin Yuji proudly shows them to the tall man; declaring that, "dad! dad! guess what? it looks just like us! Do you like it?" The pink frosting smudging both of your cheeks, hair being held back by silly cartoon headbands, the fondness Sukuna felt for the both of you. He made his way to the kitchen island, wrapping an arm around your waist and the other to ruffle his boys hair before pressing a kiss to the crown. Nodding and gazing at you both with adoration, he coos out a sweet "Yeah little guy, I fuckin love it."

[spidermanifested]

heres MY rambly black sails analysis for the day, after watching the show twice in as many months i wholeheartedly believe in the "long john silvers quote unquote missus in treasure island is max, not madi" theory

the most obvious thing, as others have pointed out, is that in treasure island long john silver runs an inn with his wife, a black woman, in bristol, which is absolutely not madi behavior-- i cannot imagine madi would take him back in the first place much less move with him TO ENGLAND-- but IS maxs exact area of expertise. but theres so many other things that cement it for me

as early as episode 2, max tries to convince eleanor to buy out the inn and run it together with her when england takes nassau back. this is her dream-- to share power over her life with a woman she loves, free of the pressures of the outside world. (youll note this also happens to be silvers dream for himself and madi. the parallels)

in season 4 shes faced with the suspiciously similar option to take a husband to be the face of her business, completely on paper, for the sake of the public eye. and she refuses! she doesnt want to give a man that kind of power over her. not only that but she desperately wants to retain some kind of truth in her identity-- she admires anne for her honesty, her courage. these are things she can rarely afford to express. in refusing a marriage of convenience, she asserts her autonomy.

But. black sails tells us over and over again that an oppressive society will always find ways to batter down these private boundaries. there is no island safe from colonial rule. mirandas peaceful house in the interior is burnt to the ground. the maroons are forced to accept a freedom that comes at the price of abandoning those still enslaved and taking part in their continued subjugation. the things it takes to make these spaces are terrible, and unsustainable, and when it comes to being gay in the 1700s there is a tightrope to walk between privilege and privacy, one that destroyed flint and the hamiltons, thats even narrower to max as a self-made woman of color.

given all that, i do not believe she can girlboss her way out of her circumstances no matter how many lessons she took from what happened to eleanor. nor do i think the show believes it. i think the political-marriage-offer plot point is another illustration of that theme-- maxs desire, and silvers desire, to build a warm, happy room in the middle of the imperial machine, without meaningfully striking out against the machine itself, is destined to be futile no matter how strong they are as individuals.

max and silver are mirror images of one another. each of them is essentially the narrator of one half of the story. it is absolutely agonizing how BOTH of them tried to convince their lovers to abandon their ambitions, to settle for a quiet life with them, and in doing so saw that relationship destroyed by their own fear of an uncertain future....

....And its even MORE agonizing to imagine them finally securing the trappings of a domestic life... but without the love. and they know the love was what mattered! theyre always going to know!!!

it bookends PERFECTLY with their alliance at the start of the series. theyre right where they started, trusting no one, pretending to be humble and harmless, planning to steal the EXACT SAME TREASURE, except now theyre 50 years old and jaded and bitter and both pining after their lost loves. silver probably pictures madi whenever he tells people about his wife. when he and max have time to themselves they talk solely about finances and nothing else. its honestly impressive how miserable this is for every single person involved. im losing my mind

[robertreich]

The Truth About Immigrants and the Economy

Immigrants are good for the economy and our society! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

For centuries, immigration has been America’s secret sauce for economic growth and prosperity.

But for just as long, immigrants have been an easy scapegoat.

One of the oldest, ugliest lies is to falsely smear immigrants as criminals.

It’s just not true. Crime is way down in America. Anyone who says otherwise is fearmongering.

And whatever crime there is is not being driven by immigration. Immigrants, regardless of citizenship status, are 60% less likely to be incarcerated for committing crimes than U.S.-born citizens.

Maybe that’s why border cities are among America’s safest.

Immigration opponents also claim immigrants are a drag on the economy and a drain on government resources.

Rubbish!

Quite the opposite, the major reason immigrants are coming to America is to build a better life for themselves and their families, contributing to the American economy.

The long-term economic benefits of immigration outweigh any short-term costs. The nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office estimates that adding more immigrants as workers and consumers — including undocumented immigrants — will grow America’s economy by about $7 trillion over the next decade. And those immigrants would increase tax revenue by about $1 trillion, shrinking the deficit and helping pay for programs we all benefit from.

Immigrants of all statuses pay more in taxes than they get in government benefits. Research by the libertarian Cato Institute found first-generation immigrants pay $1.38 in taxes for every $1 they receive in benefits,

This is especially true for undocumented immigrants, who pay billions in taxes each year, but are excluded from almost all federal benefits. After all, you need documentation to receive federal benefits. Guess what undocumented immigrants don’t have. Hello?

And of course, one of the most common anti-immigrant claims also isn’t true.

No. Immigrants are not taking away jobs that Americans want. Undocumented immigrants in particular are doing some of the most dangerous, difficult, low-paying, and essential jobs in the country.

Despite what certain pundits might tell you, immigration has not stopped the U.S. from enjoying record-low unemployment.

And as the Baby Boom generation moves into retirement, young immigrants will help support Social Security by providing a thriving base of younger workers who are paying into the system. The fact that so many immigrants want to come here gives America an advantage over other countries with aging populations, like Germany and Japan.  

What’s more, immigrants are particularly ambitious and hardworking. They are 80% more likely to start a new business than U.S. born citizens. Immigrant-founded businesses also impressively comprise 103 companies in last year’s Fortune 500.

And immigrants continue to add immeasurably to the richness of American culture. We should be celebrating them, not denigrating them.

It’s time to speak the facts and the truth. We need immigrants to keep our economy — and our country — vibrant and growing. They are not “poisoning the blood” of our nation. They’re renewing and restoring it.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

How do I stop being anxious all the time in relation to being trans? I have an appointment to go on T in 2 weeks. I'm anxious about coming out. I'm anxious about someone figuring it out before I come out. Ahhhh. I have a therapist for anxiety but I don't think it's helping.

Hoping I don't make you even more anxious, but the bottom line is some folks *will* find out and you just gotta learn to roll with it.

What has helped me:

Getting good at identifying red and green flags in cis people

It's become a habit of mine to scope out people when I join a new community. I look at profiles, what people post, etc. It's a little tiring, but I try to find the allies and other trans asap in a new fandom or whatever.

Planning for the worst

To be trans is to always have a plan to Get Out of Dodge.

A lot of times, The Worst is really only temporary embarassment. I deal with this by keeping my head held high and leaning into the more "don't fuck with me, I am tired" part of my personality.

Fake it 'til you make it -- I used to have a paralyzing fear of public mortification, and over time have ripped that apart. Sticking to my boundaries helps a lot, and I am not afraid to say, "I will not answer that question."

Here's the thing, though -- people tend to be impressed when you weather the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, and you'll likely find yourself as someone to be looked up to. Cis folks routinely ask for my advice about their own Big Life Changes, because they have been impressed to see me go through mine. I've also helped crack a few eggs.

Sometimes The Worst is truly bad, and you should always be vigilant here. Again, I know it is exhausting, but always plan for your personal, emotional, and financial safety. Build an emergency cash fund. Cultivate friends who have your back. Always be looking for new job opportunities. Lots of stuff you can workshop with people.

Cultivating a very matter-of-fact relationship with Coming Out.

I focus on any relevant logistics and keep out my emotional backstory. Most people do not need to know how much of a mess I used to be. And I firmly state what I am doing with my future, rather than ask for permission.

My last HRT-related Coming Out email (to one of my orchestras, which is a very gendered biz) was essentially: "FYI, I am medically and legally transitioning from female to male. Just a heads up, as I'll look and sound a bit different at rehearsal -- I have a tux already for the concert. See you Friday!"

That's it. At a company, you can work with HR on your announcement, assuming one will even be necessary in your case based on your transition timeline.

When I changed my name years later, I was also direct:

"I am legally changing my name to Nicholas. It may take a while to update all my clients, so you're welcome to tell them, "Oh, [deadname] goes by Nicholas now. Thanks!"

And when I came out to my spouse in tumblr chat before our first date, it was literally: "Hey, jsyk, I am 35 and a trans man, in case that changes anything."

It takes a lot of practice to get to this point, and is something you can roleplay with your therapist.

Don't be afraid of your past

I am at a place where I will sometimes casually out myself to make a point ("No one ever needs to change the gender field for this form? I recently needed to.") or a stupid joke ("Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to be...").

There is a lot of value in the trans experience. You can decide how much of it you want to casually share, but it does get easier each time.

I hope this helps. Being trans means you will be coming out for the rest of your life (obviously, there are times where stealth = safety), so cultivating a no-nonsense, and even humorous, approach will go a long way for your mental health.

[barblaz-arts]

I've come back to drop some Next Gen Nevermore lore, this time about Sora and Regine's parents 💕

Yukiko Toriyama

Because of my love for parallels, she's a doctor to match the adult characters in the show (Principal - Weems/Bianca; Sheriff - Galpin/Walker). She's a surgeon though, not a therapist like Kinbott, but still a doctor!

Yukiko's around Wednesday and co's age, so she was also in Jericho High when they were in Nevermore. She has a huge respect for Outcasts, thinking that they are very cool. In fact, she thought this one siren girl that she first saw during Outreach Day was especially cool. Soon she will find out that her name is Bianca Barclay and that her classmate Lucas Walker will end up dating her.

She met Sora's father some time after graduating from high school. She fell for his confidence, and was especially impressed that he was an Outcast. Unfortunately she realized too late that he's all talk. When she got pregnant with Sora, his rich parents essentially sent her hush money, which she accepted and used to pay for med school. Sora's grandparents helped raise her while Yukiko finished her studies, so she wasn't as present as she probably should have been during Sora's childhood. She tries her best though, really.

Hugo Schuyler

Sora's father. He came from a rich and reputable family of psychics that specialize in spirits, also known as Herons. Because of his family's reputation, he developed a huge ego and has delusions of grandeur.

He's a glutton for attention, a trait that Sora unfortunately inherited as she also always makes an effort to fit in with "the popular crowd" among her peers. However unlike Sora who is ashamed of her outcast status and prefers to hide her power, Hugo has a superiority complex and overcompensates for his weak psychic abilities by being obnoxiously loud about his outcast status and his family's name.

He ends up starting a YouTube channel as a paranormal investigator after Nevermore. When he finds out he has a daughter, he's quick to head over to Nevermore and rope Sora into his paranormal shenanigans. No, it doesn't end up being a cute father-daughter bonding activity.

He sees both Wednesday and Enid as rivals. Wednesday for her formidable psychic powers (and reputation!), Enid for, well, her more successful YouTube channel(which isn't even hers, it's the Wolf Preserve's). Wednesday does not remember him from their high school days though, and Enid purposely mixes him up with Xavier when addressing him.

Vega hates him because he thinks aliens don't exist.

Erica Gutierrez

(I don't have her design and personality fully conceptualized yet, sorry)

Erica is Eugene's ex-wife and is a famous actress who started out when she was a teenager. She used to be a celebrity crush of Eugene's when he was in Nevermore, and dating and marrying her was a dream come true that sadly didn't last.

Erica makes an effort to see Regine when she can, and she usually has her daughter stay with her throughout the summer. Her fame comes with its own cons, particularly the excessive attention she(and by extension her family) gets hugely contributing to Regine's overly reclusive personality.

Erica had nothing to do with Outcasts before meeting Eugene and is every bit of a Normie. She and Wednesday never liked each other. She gets along well with Enid because she thinks Enid is normal enough when she isn't wolfed out. Enid likes her for getting her Michelle Yeoh's autograph and a video message as a birthday gift once. (Wednesday hates that Eugene's ex wife of all people showed her up that year)

None of the Nevermore student knew Regine's mother was a celebrity until Erica decided to give her daughter a surprise visit during Family Day(coincidentally the same day Hugo goes to meet Sora. It was a long weekend for the girls)

(masterpost for my AUs here)

EDIT: I ALMOST FORGOT!

Partial credit to @whitebeltwriter for coming up with Yukiko's background with me. I no longer remember which parts were my idea and which is hers, but pls know that it was a collaborative effort

[facesittingnightmares]

Coach Gatlin: Tryouts season

You were sat on the bench in the scorching heat, sun almost blinding as you were watching the first third of the new tryouts compete on the field, desperate to earn a spot on this year's famously competitive Shatterstone College football team. You thought it was just like any other tryouts, except more competitive. Unfortunately, you were wrong. "That's time!!" Roared the respected coach, Gerard Gatlin, known to have the most impressive team lineups in college history. He was 35 but had the build of a athletic 20 year old with a nice beard and mature demeanor. The first group of tryouts came off the pitch out of breath and sweaty. It was all normal until you saw Coach Gatlin pull two players over to him as the second group rushed onto the field.

"Okay so you two were tied for scoring but I can only take one of you. Are either of you willing to kiss my ass for the spot?" As soon as the question was prompted, the left player said 'yes sir,' not even giving time to think it was a joke. "Looks like we have the winner. Better luck next time!" Coach laughs as he signals for the other player to leave. "Sorry to disappoint, but you won't be kissing my ass, just sniffing it. More specifically, sniffing my farts for a bit as I assess the second group." The player, clearly built and looking like a stereotypical alpha male, knelt down and pushed his face into the tight blue shorts of the coach without hesitation as he had dreamed of getting on the team for years.

"Good man! You clearly know that being the best takes sacrifice and commitment. Since you are essentially part of the team now, I should tell you my nickname among the lads, or more specifically, the nickname of my ass that carries out the punishments, The Gatlin Gun" Coach laughs as he lets out a fart onto the players face. You see a slight flinch but nothing too reactive. The smell blows over to you, and you gag immediately from the rotten scent. Then, another fart rips, and again, the player has a slight flinching response. You couldn't believe that the other player was taking these head on. Before the smell could reach you, another blast erupts, then another, and another. It seemed like Coach Gatlin was a full auto fart blaster. You gagged as the smell of each and every fart was carried by the wind. "Sorry for the smell! But if you plan on joining the team, you will experience it a lot!" The older man simply laughed as the quick lighting fast rips of toxic methane continued. You had no idea how the player was still alive. Sure, more powerful farts had been ripped by other men, but the Gatlin Gun name was accurate as the incredible speed of farts is what made Coach Gatlins ass deadly. Finally, the defeated football player fell backward unconscious as he had just been blasted by at least 100 farts within a few minutes.

Then came the offer of a lifetime. "You've just seen and smelt what I can do to a face, so how about I offer you something worthwhile. You get over here and take the rest of my Gatlin Guns rounds, and you're on the team, no questions asked!" The smirk of the man showed his love for dominance as the smell of a few silent farts made your stomach turn even from range, making your mind race at the thought of what to do.

[suguru-getos]

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

-> Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

What was your fucking problem?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so cute, small, stompable…

"See me when the school ends."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[megumismyhusband]

you and gen narumi had always been at each other’s throats. no matter what it was, you always managed to beat him. whether it was the smallest task or the most challenging problem, you were always one step ahead. well, except in one thing: battle.

that was his domain. his strength, his pride. you couldn’t outdo him there, and that fact irritated you up more than anything. he had no problem rubbing it in your face, either.

“don’t get too cocky,” gen would grumble after you beat him in everything else.

but today, things were different.

you were paired up for a mission. the job? simple enough. track down and eliminate a kaiju. teamwork was essential, and for once, neither of you argued. the usual bickering was absent, replaced by a strange, uneasy quiet.

it wasn’t until you were on the field, working together flawlessly, that you realized how much you actually relied on him. how much you needed him to back you up.

after the fight, the adrenaline still buzzing in your veins, you sat down next to him, exhaustion settling in.

“you did good,” gen said, voice rough. it wasn’t much, but it meant something.

“yeah, you too,” you muttered, unsure of how to deal with the shift in your dynamic.

for a long time, there had only been competition between you two. but now, as you sat there, the truth hit both of you like a punch to the gut.

you didn’t hate each other. you never had.

you were just… trying to impress each other. in your own messed-up way, trying to outdo the other because somewhere along the way, you’d both realized you liked the other more than you cared to admit.

“you know…” gen started, his voice hesitant. “i think i’ve been an idiot.”

you glanced at him, surprised. “what do you mean?”

“i’ve spent so much time trying to outdo you, but…” he trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. “maybe i was just trying to get your attention.”

you froze, your heart thumping louder in your chest. “gen…”

“yeah,” he muttered, his face turning a little red. “i’ve been trying to get you to notice me, but i guess i was going about it the wrong way. always competing… but i like you. a lot.”

the air felt thick now, as if everything had changed in that single moment. you stared at him, unsure of what to say, but when the words finally left your mouth, they felt like the only truth that mattered.

“you’re not the only one, idiot,” you said softly, a little smile tugging at your lips.

gen’s eyes widened, and for the first time, there was no competition between you. only the undeniable feeling that something had shifted, and it wasn’t just your rivalry anymore.