#this is definitely a sign to get back to it

[moki-dokie]

goddddd, having war flashbacks thanks.

so my graduating class was around 400ish. large but not so large as some bigger city schools in the state (and certainly not as large as other states), and definitely not large enough to ever avoid the extreme clique-ism. like. every cliche movie made about high school pretty much from 2000 forward is based in the 00s high school environment. it really was that awful.

the only way you could EVER get away relatively unscathed being queer was if you were one of the preps. aka the popular kids. aka the mean girls (and boys). but only if you were bi, usually. because then that was cool. sort of. even they had some really fucking weird and restrictive rules around it that remain a mystery to me nearly 20 years later.

you know what else was sooooo ridiculously prevalent back then? mini class warfare waged by high schoolers. like, i laugh and scoff at the british for how class still seems to matter for some dumb fucking reason over there despite like everyone being pretty much in the same income bracket anymore, but we aren't exactly free of it here in the states either. just to give you an idea of how bad it was - i'm in oklahoma. we're one of the poorest states in the nation already. have been basically like, forever. no exception back in the 00s. the town i grew up in was especially fucking shitty and poor though. and of course living there, all of us were of the opinion other towns were snobby assholes, but ESPECIALLY the one I ended up moving to. like, biggest reputation for being primo cunts. and i had to go to school with them. realistically the wage gap between these towns wasn't that much. Maybe like, a 10k/yr salary difference. nothing on the grander scale. i would later learn that this hatred for my hometown was due to rampant and extreme racism. (town i moved to used to be a sundown town and still had signs up as late as the early 90s. the town i came from was majority native and black population.) but as kids, really the only thing that mattered was that i was from that shithole and poor and thus, upon stepping foot in school, i was the automatic enemy. i was never given a chance to even try to make friends with 99% of my classmates. day 1 i was a dyke and a freak merely for the audacity of having grown up somewhere else. and that stayed with me for the next five-ish years.

there was an inescapable rumor for like 2 years straight that me and my best friend were lesbos (meant to be even harsher and more venomous than the full lesbian title) all because we... were friends. and both very poor, so both hated tremendously. eventually we learned to run with it, but it kinda sucked up until then.

my second best friend was 1 of 2 openly gay boys in our class, and unfortunately he was not of the popular crowd - despite his best efforts. i think i heard fag/faggot more times in the first week walking with him to class than i ever had in my entire life - amongst many many other insults and slurs. bless him, he had incredibly thick skin and a talent for witty sarcasm. it was thanks to him i learned to embrace fag as much as he had so that it couldn't bother me. and unsurprisingly (now, not so much back then), he received regular sexual harassment from basically all of the other boys and a not insignificant amount of rape threats or general threats of sexual abuse. (fellas is it gay to threaten to sodomize another man? certainly not.) i honestly think the only thing that kept him from getting heinously hatecrimed was the fact he had like, ALL of the hookups for drugs. like, at some point the hatred for my tiny circle of misfit friends was so rampant we all just decided the lot of us are infected with the Gaybies and we may as well use it to our advantage to keep people the fuck away.

oh and it wasn't enough that i was the wrong social class and from the wrong town and had the wrong friends, but i also have red hair - so naturally that was just completely unacceptable and of course wrong. like, god forbid you weren't bleach blonde or brunette. anything else was forbidden, but ESPECIALLY red. i at least had it a little easier than the 1 other redhead cause mine is auburn and his was bright bright ginger.

ah and lets not forget that not only was gay used as a synonym for bad/stupid to an extreme, but so was retarded. funny enough though, at least where i lived, there was a very big distinction when you called someone retarded vs. referring to an actual special needs person that way. it was the weirdest thing honestly. cause it'd be like "wow you're being like so fucking retarded(derogatory) right now shut up" but then "oh yeah, that's jonathan. he's retarded (positive/informative), you won't really see him outside of the special classroom." it actually took me yeeeaaaarrrrssss to break the habit of that one after finding out like, everywhere else ever seemed to use it maliciously no matter what. but anyway, yeah you heard that about a thousand times a day.

an i wish i was exaggerating this, but because i'm smack dab in the middle of the hardcore bible belt, not only was i accused of being a dyke, but a witch and satanist too. just because i wore black sometimes. shit you not, i was never goth. i never dyed my hair. i never even wore makeup. but somehow, because of my like 3 black shirts, i was the antichrist. well, until my late-highschool bestie made her appearance. tell you what, small town oklahoma was not prepared for a fully decked out cybergoth transplant from LA. she was the devil incarnate as far as they were concerned.

dress codes were so openly misogynistic. boys could get away with basically anything except heavily sagging pants. but girls had restrictions that took up an entire page. no shoulders out, no midrifts, shorts and skirts had to be below the knee, no visible bra straps, no pants that could potentially show the outline of your underwear, shirts could not be cut lower than collar bones, ect ect.

in general, sexual harassment was very common everywhere with everyone. unless you had hard evidence of it or actual abuse, nobody gave a shit. i lost count of the number of popular girls that openly bragged about blowing or fucking the male teachers for extra credit or just for fun. sure you could report it, but nobody would take you seriously. like it was expected. i was subjected to it SO much and it took it getting pretty extreme for anyone to step in. once after days of a guy saying some very vulgar shit to me relentlessly, had the balls enough to grope me and learned the hard way i don't put up with that shit. and thank fuck i had witnesses willing enough to be on my side or i would have been the one to get in trouble for it. and another time when a boy would not stop asking what my bush situation was and detailing all the ways he was going to find out and then some. i had to wait for it to reach that threat of assault level for the principal to finally remove him from my class. and that was all they did. and for folks like my gay friend? that fell on deaf ears. boys just being boys. just a bit of hazing, no biggie.

damn i almost forgot - teachers were allowed to hit you, too. it was less common than like the 80s and 90s, but common enough. my older brother was paddled so hard once it bruised his tailbone. most of my teachers had a paddle they'd threaten us with. many a child was wacked with a ruler. they were also BIG fans of public humiliation back then. like, stand you up in front of the class and degrade you or make you do some really stupid and humiliating thing as punishment or else you got in worse trouble.

so. yeah. there is quite literally nothing about the 00s high school life to ever romanticize. that shit sucked ass in ways kids now would have full blown breakdowns over.

"I was born in the wrong generation" I mean this with all the love in my heart, but if you say you want to have been a kid in the early 2000s you're either stupid or sadistic. they called you a fag for wearing jeans.

[barcaatthemoon]

fireball || alexia putellas x reader ||

Alexia learns firsthand why you don't drink often.

The shots that many bars in vacation areas gave were much bigger than the shots that you wereused to. Alexia had warned you of this several times, and yet, you still hadn't slowed down one bit. The two of you were still in Barcelona for the night, but she had indulged you in letting the two of you go to one of the places only tourists sought out. It was a bit gimmicky and most of the staff spoke primarily English. Alexia hated it, but you absolutely loved it.

"Ale, come dance with me!" Alexia stared at you skeptically. You could barely stand up straight, having nearly fallen twice as you tried to get another drink at the bar.

"One dance, and then we have to go amor," Alexia told you. You nodded, more than happy to leave with Alexia. However, you didn't realize that Alexia wasn't taking you home for the reasons that you wanted her to. She needed to get you in a bed for some sleep, but you could feel a subtle hum in between your legs as Alexia held you for the dance.

You tried and failed to dance on Alexia to seduce her, instead managing to nearly fall onto the ground. Alexia caught you and simply carried you out of the club. You would have normally protested, but you were more than enjoying the view of Alexia's ass as she carried you over her shoulder.

"You're so strong. Will you hold me up against the wall and fuck me?" you asked her. Alexia's jaw dropped at how nonchalantly you asked her that. You were definitely the bashful one in your relationship, often trying to bat Alexia away when she started kissing you in public. For you to just say that on a busy night street where anybody could hear was a sign that Alexia should have made you stop drinking an hour ago.

"Amor, you are very drunk. I would not feel right taking advantage of you in this state," Alexia told you as she helped you into the car. You whined and pouted, nearly on the verge of tears as you mumbled incoherently. Alexia sighed as she realized just how long of a night she was in with you. It wasn't often that you even drank a glass of wine with dinner, much less got drunk. She had learned on a trip with your national team that you were a legendary drunk, hundreds of stories coming from just a couple handfuls of nights.

Alexia thanks whatever powers in the universe she needed to that you willingly let her carry you inside. You seemed eager to get out of the car, and you managed to make the ride without getting sick. Alexia knew that it was only a matter of time, most of the alcohol you had been drinking was cheap and full of sugar. Still, you had enjoyed yourself, and that was the whole point of tonight. Alexia had given you the green light to do whatever you wanted, promising that she'd stay sober to take care of you.

"Ale, now that we're home, we can do shots!" you cheered. You made a beeline for the kitchen, but Alexia stopped you. She held onto your waist as she guided you to the couch to sit down.

"Wait here, I'll be right back," Alexia told you. You pouted, but sat there anyway. She grabbed a couple of snacks that she knew you liked whenever you'd been drinking and a bottle of water. It was a struggle to get you to drink the water, claiming that it would completely ruin your buzz.

"I can't believe that Alexia Putellas has regular chips. You always get on me for snacks," you pouted. Alexia sighed, not having the heart to tell you that she kept those around for you. You stayed on top of your fitness better than anybody Alexia had ever met, so she didn't see the harm in keeping a couple of little snacks for you around at her place. It had been early in your relationship when she asked if your snacks were approved by the nutritionist, long before she knew how hard you really worked.

"Maybe you're a bad influence," Alexia teased. That seemed to be the wrong move as your eyes began to well up with tears. Alexia quickly backtracked, but as she continued to talk, Alexia noticed that your attention was elsewhere. "Amor, you aren't getting sick are you?"

"I don't like this," you said as you pulled your top off. Alexia quickly covered her eyes, despite having openly stared as you got dressed earlier that day.

"Why are you undressing?" Alexia asked, slightly panicked.

"Because it's hot. And I'm hot. God, it's almost the winter, and I am baking Ale!" you exclaimed. Alexia rolled her eyes as she dropped her hand, unsurprised to see every bit of your clothing on the ground. "Let's go to bed."

"Are you just going to sleep naked?" You nodded as you stumbled your way towards Alexia's bedroom. Alexia followed you in and watched as you fumbled your way through your nighttime routine. Alexia tried to help where she could, but you were stubborn about doing it yourself. Alexia went through her own routine and found you asleep in bed by the time that she was halfway through the second step.

[sugurusfavemonkey]

A Helping Hand summary: Satoru needs help taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki. pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader ୨୧ friends to lovers; mutual pining; domestic fluff; canon divergence - both Gojo and reader are over 18 when Gojo takes in the Fushiguro siblings. word count: 3.8k warnings: very brief suggestive themes by the end that may lead to a spicy pt 2

"Not everyone can handle that much sugar, Gojo." you deadpanned as soon as you answered your ringing phone, eyes still glued to the paperwork you had neglected finishing until the very last minute. "Some of us are prone to get cavities you know... or diabetes."

You smiled at hearing his laughter from the other end of the line, grateful he wasn't in the room to tease you about your affectionate expression, "Hello to you too, sunshine"

"Like I said, if you want to try that new bakery at Nihonbashi go bother Shoko. Yaga has been pestering me about handing over my papers on time for the past few days and I'm already behind on it."

"Oh! I had nearly forgotten about that place. I heard they have the best strawberry shortcakes in Tokyo! I'm definitely taking you there this week, paperwork can wait." Gojo mused with a soft hum, "that's not why I'm calling though."

"Um-hum. What issue do you need my help with then?" You dropped your pen, yielding on getting any work done while on the phone with your troublesome friend.

"I resent that. Sometimes people call their friends just to catch up or something like that!"

You pushed the swivel chair away from the desk you had been leaning over for the past hour and put one leg up, resting your elbow on your knee, "except they're not you."

"Are you implying I'm not a good friend?" Satoru gasped dramatically, "you wound me, woman!"

"Gojo."

"What?"

"Get to the point"

He sighs, "fine. I need your help."

"Ha! I knew it!" you snapped your fingers at his admission and smirked to yourself, pleased with being able to read Satoru to a T.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just get to the address I'm sending you." you could nearly hear the eye roll in his tone.

"What? Hold on, I never agreed to-" your leg slid back down, your sock clad foot dropping to the ground with a muffled thud as you slid forward in your seat, free hand grasping onto the arm rest.

"See you soon, sweets!" he hang up before you had time to counter any further.

You hadn't even put the phone down when your heard two successive chimes, announcing incoming messages from none other than Satoru Gojo himself consisting of the address he had promised followed by one short instruction:

"...bastard." you mumble the insult under your breath even if he can't hear. The knowledge that he knew you would follow his command despite your earlier resistance making you drop your weight back in the chair dejectedly.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

It takes you nearly two hours, what with having to appropriately dress yourself before leaving your room, taking the train from Tokyo to Saitama and finally a bus until you made it to the nearest stop to the location Gojo had "requested" your presence at.

The address led you into a path of uneven, light-colored stone slabs, bestrewed with patches of moss and grass - an obvious sign of the minimal maintenance kept over the time - that winds between rows of low-rise visibly weathered residential buildings on either side, with peeling paint, small cracks and walls darkened from exposure.

You compared the number on the side of building to the message's one more time, trying to figure out what was Satoru's goal sending you to the scanty suburban neighborhood you stood at. You check your surroundings, expanding your senses for any signs of danger, but nothing really stood out for you.

"There you are! C'mon in, slowpoke. Get up here. We've been waiting long enough for you!"

... we?

You looked up at the voice calling out onto to spot Gojo waving enthusiastically from his spot leaning at the protective iron bars of the narrow balcony above.

Overhanging gutters and pipes snake across the building, along with electrical wiring. The wooden eaves and narrow balconies seem to have endured years of use in a slightly chaotic but familiar urban atmosphere.

Satoru didn't give you time to form a response before diving back inside, disappearing from your view.

You shake your head incredulously and quickly head to the door underneath the balcony.

The entrance led to a narrow staircase barely illuminated by flickering yellow fixtures and a slightly ajar wooden door at the end of it. You climbed up the stairs two at a time in your haste.

Before you even thought of knocking the door was pulled open, revealing Gojo and, behind him, a much better illuminated ambiance than the one you stood in.

The inside of the house was small, the furniture simple, an obviously lived in place if the strewed pieces of clothing, books and toys were weighted in. A living room and a tiny kitchen with a conjoint laundry separated by a counter only made up the space you could see and a door led further into the apartment, probably into a corridor with more doors or directly into an ensuite bed and bathroom.

"What the fu-"

"Shhh!!" He snapped, hand pressing over your mouth to stop you from finishing your sentence, "watch your language, sweets. We have tiny ears in the room."

You glanced over his shoulder again, this time taking notice of the two children sat on the worn out green(ish) three-seat couch. Your widened eyes only made Satoru smile as his hand dropped from your face.

"I know cuss words too, you know." the boy voiced with a bored expression from his spot, clearing having guessed on what you have been about to say before the interruption.

"Of course you do, little adult." Satoru spoke with a chuckle, peered over his shoulder and returning to you in a whisper: "can you believe he is a first grader? The boy looks and sounds like he could do my taxes for me!"

"Wha- what is the meaning of this, Gojo?" You questioned once the surprise eased up, trying to look into his eyes for an explanation through the dark lenses of his glasses.

"These are Toji Fushiguro's kids."

"Actually, I'm not really related to him." the girl chimed in quietly, waving meekly when you looked her way.

"Are you gonna make her stay at the door, Gojo?"

"You're totally right, little guy! How inconsiderate of me." He stepped aside, bowing at the waist and doing a grand gesture with his arm. "Would you like to come in, milady?"

"Shut up, dork." You giggled in spite of yourself as you passed him into the place.

"Sweets, meet Tsumiki and Megumi Fushiguro!" Satoru beamed, looking almost proud as he pointed out each kid to you.

"Hey there." You waved with a soft smile, still trying to make sense of the scene in front of you.

Tsumiki smiled politely while Megumi offered you a head nod in acknowledgment. You winced at their lack of response.

"Can we speak privately, Gojo?" you whispered, leaning a bit closer to your friend.

"Right!" He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the room and turned the kids again, "would you guys mind go play or something while the grown ups talk?"

Megumi rolled his eyes, but jumped from the couch, waiting until his sister followed suit. "We'll just be in the main room while you talk."

You patiently waited until they were on the other side of the door you had spotted in your first surveyance of the room before crossing your arms over your chest and demanding: "explain. Now."

"Okay, okay. Calm your horses. It's simple, really. I don't think I told you this, but... Toji told me about a son he had sold to then Zenin's before... you know. So, being the good samaritan that I am, I decided to look for said kid and voilà! Here we are."

"That explains nothing, dumbass. Why am I here? Why are you here?"

He sighed, dropping onto the sofa with a dramatic flare that would bring many actors to their knees, head thrown back and one arm slung over his eyes, the appliance making a weird noise at the sudden weight thrown onto it.

"Out with it." You relentlessly pressured for more information. He sat back up, manspreading on the sofa, eyes still hidden under dark lenses when he faced you.

"I asked what he wanted. The boy." there was a seriousness to his tone you didn't hear often.

"Megumi?"

"Yeah. And he wanted to know if his sister would be happy there."

"Hell no! Those bastards treat women like shit! And she doesn't seem to have a lick of cursed energy, so she would probably be treated worse than the dust under their shoes." You shivered at your own observation, concerned for the little girl.

"That's what I said! So... I promised I would take care of things."

"Ok... what does that mean? Have you reached another relative that can take them or what?"

"About that..."

"Gojo."

"They don't have anyone else. Tsumiki's mother and father are gone, as is Megumi's mother. And Toji..."

"Yeah, I know." You paused, pinching the bridge of your nose. "So what? You'll just... adopt them? Gojo, you can barely take care of yourself, imagine not one but two kids?"

"Hey! I'm great at taking care of myself! And no one said anything about adoption. I was thinking maybe more on the line of a sponsor. With the schools endorsement, too. Those old farts will probably be very interested in Megumi's technique." you opened your mouth to comment on it, but Satoru cut you off, "don't worry! I won't let them lay a finger on the boy. I said I would take care of things. And I will."

You uncrossed your arms, kicking lightly at his foot so he would free some space for you on the couch. You couldn't help but smile upon noticing the drop of his infinity to let you hit him. Satoru put his legs closer together and you sat down on the space beside him with a deep sigh. "Still, that's a lot of responsibility to take on." you pointed out softly.

"I know, but I made a promise." He turned his to the side, chin dipping so his eyes could meet your over the rim of his sunglasses, "besides, I have you."

The effect of his eyes on you was instantaneous. Your guard dropping, face softening. "You do." you admitted quietly, but cleared your throat and averted his piercing gaze upon noticing what you had just said. "Fine. How are we doing this?"

"I knew you would come around!" He jumped up and grasped onto your hands to pull you up as well, eliciting a chuckle from you.

"What would you even do without me, Satoru?" the tease came naturally and so did his nonchalant answer:

"Wither and die, most likely." Satoru still held onto your hands, face turned to the door where the children hid behind. "Because I have no idea what to do now."

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hands free and lightly slapping his shoulder.

"I assume you're not gonna leave them to fend for themselves, so I'll go around check how's their pantry and other supplies to make a list for you to go shop while I watch them. Restock the house."

He listened attentively, nodding vigorously.

"Then we're gonna have to figure out a schedule to check on them regularly. They seemed to be doing alright alone so far so we know they don't need constant supervision, but someone should always be here to make sure they're fed and, well, taken care of in general." You listed as you went around the room, checking drawers and cabinets and nodding to yourself.

"God. You're brilliant! I don't know how I'll ever repay you for this."

You scoffed lightly, "I'm doing this for them just as much as I'm doing it for you, Gojo."

"Still. You're a real lifesaver."

"Stop with the flattery and write down what we need."

"Yes, mam!" He saluted you playfully.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You called out for Megumi and Tsumiki after sending Gojo to the store, making him promise not to splurge on sweets, reminding not everyone needed the mental stimuli he did, especially growing children who require a more balanced diet.

You talked to them, made sense of their routine and doings while getting to know them a bit better, finding out they had been living from the little money left by Tsumiki’s mother. It was a luck strike that Satoru got to them when he did considering those funds were on its way to end very soon.

They were both way too mature for their age and you silently vowed to yourself to change that. You would do your best to take care of everything else so they could just be kids. It's the least they deserved.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

Things progressed naturally after that day. You bonded with Tsumiki over her love of books and Megumi over his passion for standing up for others.

They were good kids, never required much coddling. Tsumiki was particularly affectionate and, while he was more aloof, you could tell Megumi cared (especially about Tsumiki).

The Elders had acquiesced (not without a very through pushing intimidation from Gojo, of course) with letting you become the official "benefactors" of the Fushiguros.

You took on the role with earnestness, making sure to spend most of your free time with them. Cooking or ordering in, helping with their homework or just talking became routine in your hectic sorcerer lifestyle.

Surprisingly, Satoru also made an effort to be there, but due to his extremely busy schedule it wasn't always a possibility.

There were times neither of you would make it and it you would lead to you apologizing profusely into the phone receiver to one of the siblings (they were always extremely understanding). Other times, Shoko, Nanami or even Yaga would check in on them after your incessant begging.

Your favorite times though, rare as they were, happened when yours and Gojo's schedule were simultaneously unoccupied and allowed the both of you to go into the apartment. You could count in one hand the number of times that had happened in the year the two of you had been taking care of the Fushiguro siblings.

Satoru made a point to express his gratitude for your help whenever he could: every time he decided to spoil the kids with expensive gifts, he would get something for you as well. He would drop his infinity to receive your playful blows when he's being exceptionally annoying.

Oftentimes you found his gaze strayed to you or the soft smile on his lips directed at you and wondered if, perhaps, Satoru felt the same you did. If the longing of years wasn't as one sided as you had thought, but then he would make some inappropriate joke and the charged tension would fall. It was probably all in your head anyway.

He still kept some walls up though. Geto Suguru was a difficult subject for both of you. After his defect, Satoru seldom allowed himself to be vulnerable, not that he ever had before, but he become even more guarded afterwards. Still, you were there for him and he was there for you and that was enough.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

"I'm hungry."

"Huh. I thought you were Tsumiki?"

Megumi groan was accompanied with an eye roll, as it usually was when Satoru made his jokes around the house, but Tsumiki giggles always brought a tiny smile to the corner of his lips. "You know what I meant, silly!"

"Was that a dad joke, Satoru?" you playfully hip bumped him as you made it from the counter he leaned on to the stove with the chopped vegetables.

"Ugh. I'm too young and handsome to be a father. It's not my fault their sense of humor is top tier."

"It's really not, Gojo." Megumi pointed out, his eyes never straying from the manga in his hands.

"What do you even know about that?"

"Hey! I'll let you know Megs can be really funny, you just don't get his subtle humor because your head is too big." You gestured around with a wooden spoon, your words bringing more giggles out of Tsumiki and a proud smile to your face.

"My head is perfectly proportionate to my body."

"Of course that's the only part you heard." You peeked over your shoulder finding Tsumiki standing on the other side of the counter. "Dinner is nearly done, Miki."

"Alright. I'll set the table!" the eager preteen rushed out.

"Thank you, dear!" you bellowed, attention turning back to stirring the pot of food.

"It smells great by the way." Satoru pointed out, slowly inching closer to you.

"You hungry too?"

"Kinda. I'm more excited for the dessert to be honest."

"Of course you are." You laughed.

"Hey, sweets?" Satoru was right next to you then, licking a swipe of frosting he had gathered on his finger as he passed by the dirty bowl.

"Huh?" You attentively followed his hypnotizing gesture from the corner of your eye, your arm stopping its movement momentarily as blood rushed up to your chest and neck.

"Do you ever regret it?" his question has your focus snapping back into place as you finally allowed yourself to look his way.

"Regret what?"

"You know... taking on the kids." Satoru tried to seem nonchalant, but you know him too well. There's clearly a motive to his sudden approach.

"You having second thoughts, Gojo?" Your tone was playful, but there was an edge of alert to it.

"No! no. I was just wondering. I don't want you to resent me for stealing up your youth or something like that."

The sudden understanding made you freeze. You quickly turned off the burner and fully turned his way.

"Stop with that shit. I could never resent you from bringing me into their lives." You moved towards the sink, washing your hands as you spoke, "I love these kids." turning off the faucet, you took one deep breath and shifted so you're standing face to face, "got it?"

"But don't you want your own family?"

His insistence had you exhaling exasperatedly, "this is my family, Satoru. Tsumiki, Megumi, Shoko, Nanami... you. It may not be conventional, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

You watched as his playful expression softened. Satoru removed the sunglasses covering his eyes and dropped them at the counter to his side, eyes never once leaving yours.

You felt yourself warm up instantaneously, hands clammy and lips dry, but still you tried to keep up the pretense of coolness with an airy jab, "what's that face for, dumbass?"

"That's just my face, sweets. I'm sure you've noticed how beautiful I am before." his voice had taken a lower cadency and for some reason he seemed to be closer than before, standing impossibly tall in front of you.

"Your ego really is something else." your smile faltered when he simply hummed in response, his unblinking eyes making your head swim and heart flutter dangerously, "stop staring!"

That seemed to snap Satoru out of it as he put one step of distance between you, gaze finally settling elsewhere. "Sorry. I know my eyes can be intimidating."

Your hand flew to his without thinking, masking your surprise when you immediately felt his skin instead of the barrier of infinity. You knew you had hit a nerve then and was quick to attempt remediating it.

"Not exactly the word I would use." You murmured, seeking his eyes again. Something flashed in them, something you had seem a few times before in passing when he looked at you, but it was always gone so quick you never really managed to read it properly.

"What word would you use?"

"If I wasn't afraid of providing too much fuel to your ego I would probably say something like beautiful. Entrancing. Maybe breathtaking." You listed, thumb caressing the back of his hand back and forth.

"You're making me blush, sweets." His grip tightened on your hand and he used it to pull you even closer, until your chest was nearly brushing his stomach, your neck straining to keep looking up at him.

"Yeah? Who would've thought... the strongest sorcerer reduced to a mess over a few measly compliments." your voice was almost a whisper, worried anything louder would burst this bubble you found yourselves in.

"Nah. Over you." he admitted with a loving smile, one you now recognize he only ever use with you.

"Satoru..."

"God. I love when you say my name."

"Noted." You licked your lips and watched as his stare followed the tiny movement, pupils blowing wider, nearly taking over the striking blue. "What is this, Satoru?"

He finally closed the distance between your bodies, bending down until your faces were only a breath away, hands finding your waist like they belonged tgere. Your heart sped up, seemingly ready to burst from your chest.

"Shoko mentioned overheard one guy from the Zenin clan noticed how good you were with kids when we took Megs there, said something crass about wanting to father your kids when he stopped by the school." his dry chuckle made you shake along with him, "I'm not gonna lie, I wanted to hollow purple his ass as soon as she said that. It made me realize I would end up losing you if I didn't man up and made a move soon. So this is me stopping being a pussy."

"I want to be with you. In any way you'll have me. If you will have me." Satoru admitted quietly. "Your boyfriend, maybe?"

"Just as long as I can be your girlfriend."

You were nearly blinded by his bright responding smile.

And then he bent further down to touch his lips to yours. He wanted to make it romantic, soft, his lips met yours in brief caresses once, twice... and then something snapped.

It's like all those years of yearning led to this moment and Satoru had to have you impossibly closer.

One of his hands held onto your jaw, long fingers touching the back of your neck, keeping your head in place and the other slowly explored you back, stopping at the stripe of skin where your shirt had ridden up when you threw your arms around his neck. His tongue pushed at the seam of your lips, seeking entrance and who were you to deny Gojo Satoru?

You let out a muffled moan, ready to move it forward when a voice shattered the moment:

"Ew! Stop sucking her face!"

"Shut up, Megumi! They're finally getting together, dummy!"

You broke apart in an instant, your head pending forward until your forehead rested on his chest, willing your blush to simmer down so you could face the kids.

"Yeah. Shut up, Megumi. I'm trying to score the girl of my dreams here, man!" Satoru joked, but you picked up on the slight quiver to his voice. Then, lower, just for you. "C'mon, sweets. Let's feed the little beasts and put them to sleep so we can finish this."

note: I think we're lacking more fluff pieces for the JJK fandom so I wanted to contribute to it somehow, but I still also want to try my hand at the more sexy bits so expect a part 2 made entirely of smut very soon ;)

[wonderjanga]

Where Have you Been?

This is inspired by this post.

Billy was having a rough day. Scratch that. A rough couple of months. Recently, he’s been… losing himself? He doesn’t know how to put it into words. It’s just that more he’s Marvel, the more he forgets about being Billy. In all honesty, it’s scaring him. What’s even worse is that, no matter what others think, he isn’t in control anymore, and Billy knows it. One moment, he’ll just be Billy Batson and then the next he’ll be Marvel with no recollection of even saying the word. Billy truly wished he hadn’t noticed the gaps in his memory getting bigger.

Speaking of memory gaps, Billy had a pretty big one to fill considering all he did was go to bed, and was then greeted with the misfortune of waking up on a random beach with the lower half of his body slightly wet from the tide. All he knows is that he’s not near Fawcett, let alone Iowa, because last he checked, it was a landlocked state. So, he got up, and decided to go find out where he was.

Billy: *wandering around while shaking any sand off himself, eventually spotting a flag* “Oh! I’m in… I still have no idea.”

Glasses Lady: *approaches him* “Por que você não está na escola?” (Translation: Why aren’t you in school?)

Billy: *frog blinks* “Huh?”

Billy was… pretty sure that was Spanish. So he’s probably still on earth. Maybe. After a little bit of back-and-forth, the Glasses Lady finally realized he couldn’t understand what Billy was only half sure was Spanish. In the end, she just started taking him around to find somebody who could speak English.

Glasses Lady: “¿Você fala inglês? Acho que este é o filho de um turista.” (Translation: Do you speak English? I think this is a tourist's son.)

Old Granny: “Não. Pobre garoto.” *leans down to pinch his cheek* (Translation: “No. Poor boy.)

Billy: *confused as to why this random old lady is pinching his cheek*

Eventually, after a while, they did find somebody who could speak English.

Billy: “Do you know where I am, miss?”

College Student: “You’re in Brazil.”

Billy: “Brazil??” *sounds super concerned* “Isn’t that in South America? I think?”

College Student: “It is. How did you even get here? Are you on vacation?”

Billy: “No? I just woke up here.” *wondering how he’s gonna explain this to Rosa*

College Student: “What?” *also now concerned because she thinks this child might’ve been a victim of trafficking*

Billy: “Uhm… you have like a map that you can show me?”

College Student: “I don’t think a map will help you, bud.”

Billy: *shrugs* “Theres always the chance it could, miss.”

College Student: “I guess?” *pulls up google maps*

Billy: *zooms out so he can just see the countries* “Oh okay. So not that far away.”

College Student: “You’re plenty far away what are you talking about? Also, why’re you sandy?” *wipes off some sand her phone*

Billy: *ignores both questions* “Do you know which way is north?”

College Student: “Uh… it should be that way.” *points in the direction*

Billy: “Oh thank you!” * is about to runoff, but looks back at the Glasses Lady* “And gracias?” *looks to the College Student* “That how you say it right?”

College Student: “No, that’s Spanish.” *shakes head* “It’s supposed to be obrigado.” (Translation: Thank you.)

Billy: “Oh, obrigado!” *definitely butchered the pronunciation and runs off to he north*

College Student: “Wait, come back!”

As soon as Billy was out of sight, he shazamed and flew in the direction she pointed in. Now, the boy wouldn’t admit this, but he actually flew slower than normal. He didn’t wanna think about the future confrontation with Rosa, not to mention his other family members. Was he prolonging the inevitable? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Also, yes. Did that mean he was gonna speed up though? …No.

Billy was just passing over Mexico when his JL comm started going off like crazy.

Marvel: *answers his comm*

Batman: “Marvel. Watchtower. Now.”

Marvel: “Huh? Why did I do something wrong?”

Batman: “You went AWOL for three weeks, and then the first sign we find that you’re alive is a video of you partying at a Mardi Gras parade in Brazil. I really wonder what you did wrong.”

Billy was straight speechless for a solid minute. Three weeks? Three weeks? The memory gap was way bigger than he thought.

Marvel: *trying to find words* “I- I’m gonna be honest I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He honestly felt like crying. Genuine, ugly, crying. Because now he knows it’s gotten to a point where he can’t shrug this off anymore. He could do one day. He could do two days. He’s even gone a week before. But three weeks? That’s nearly a month and he doesn’t remember anything. Billy was now being forced to acknowledged how big of a problem this was.

By now, he had stopped, still floating in mid air.

Batman: “Is that you confirming you were too intoxicated to reach out to us or-”

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir, I really can’t talk right now.” *can feel himself starting to hyperventilate* “I’ll come by later. I promise.”

Batman: “No, not later. Immediately. We all want a word with you.”

Marvel: *grimaces* “I’m sorry. I just really can’t right now. I’m really sorry.” *hangs up*

Billy just started hyperventilating after that. His chest felt tight, his world felt like it was one the brink of crashing down. He needed to go see the wizard. He needed help. The wizard could definitely help. So, he went to the rock.

Wizard: *sounds solemn* “I’m sorry, Billy.”

That was literally all the old man told him before he started talking about how the gods were starting to exert more of their influence on him. And he basically had no say, say in some of the things he would start to do from now on. Just when Billy’s life couldn’t get harder. Please, Gods, give him a break.

[just-a-ghost00]

Pick a pop song and I'll tell you what their feelings for you are [18+]

Minors do not interact.

Group 1

"Oh, you make me go crazy over you. Baby, let me hold you close."

The Sage, Take Risk, Manifest, The Observer, The Outlaw, Play, back of the deck The Weaver

This is a person that is so into you they cannot stop watching you, whether in real or on social media. This person may use divination or consult psychics to know what you're up to. This is someone that is so caught up in your energy they feel like a criminal. This person is stalking you so much they sometimes wonder if what they're doing is legal. Their thoughts of you are R rated most of the time, which may add to that feeling of "is that okay to think of group 1 this way". I feel like this person's desire for you is getting out of hand. They may have been able to control themselves in the past but the more they think about you, interact with you, the harder it is for them to resist temptation. This person also feels like they're under your charm and you have complete control over them. With the combination of the sage, take risk and manifest, I get the message that their attraction to you is deeply rooted and that it is now too late for them to go back. They feel called to take a leap of faith and do their best to manifest a relationship with you and that calling gets stronger at night. This is when this person's shackles come off, I'm getting. During the day, as they're in public, they can't really let loose and indulge in their fantasies of you. But when they're behind closed doors, it just spirals out of control.

They have so much desire for you they would get you pregnant by thought if they could lmao With the combination of observer, outlaw and play, I get the message that this person is trying to push their luck and play with fire so to speak by making an attempt to be closer to you. They feel daring and curious, they want to see where this path would lead. They just can't stop thinking about what it would be like to be with you. They feel so intimately connected to you, both on a spiritual and emotional level. They're in a very flirty, playful energy. They definitely want to seduce you. I pick up on The Fool energy. This feels very dreamy and ecstatic. They're just on cloud nine whenever you're around and you may perceive it in their energy. I got a specific message of this person making a focus on your hands. Also, they definitely touch themselves thinking of you. And it makes them feel guilty because a part of them believes you wouldn't be comfortable with it. This person really tries to keep that sexual energy under control because they don't want to scare you off. I'm getting the message that they don't want to give you the impression that they only care about your body. They want to form an emotional bond with you because they feel like you go well together and that you're on the same wavelength. This person wishes to be in your vicinity and nuture the chemistry that you have. You bring out their inner child and make them want to venture out of their comfort zone, explore their fantasies of course but also all aspects of a relationship with you. They may want to be friends with you but in their mind, they wish you were more than that. Now I'm picking up on another song, Just friends by Keshi and that specific line : "if we fuckin, are we just friends?". I get a very specific message of someone telling their person that they want to be friends and the other being like "okay, we can do that". But the more they stay in contact the stronger the attraction gets and this person is thinking "friends shouldn't be thinking of each other that way, I just can't be friends with group 1 when I have such thoughts about them".

It feels to me like this person's mask is shattering and they won't be able to pretend for too long. If they haven't already, they will show signs of their interest being more than friendly with the way they talk to you, the way they act around you, how they look at you and so on. Things will start to slip up. Maybe they will compliment you more than usual. Or you'll notice they're wearing a specific outfit more often , which you approved of one time. Something about their energy will just feel different, more intense.

Group 2

"Yeah I really wanna stay all day with you. You know what we'll be going through?"

Boundaries, The Universe, Ask Body, Withdraw, Compassion, The Observer, back of the deck Release

Another song that may be relevant to your group is Psycho by Red Velvet as I've been hearing it in the back of my mind right before I started interpreting your cards. The person we're talking about is trying to let go of the need to control your connection. They do their best to focus on other things in their life. Which they kinda succeed at. At times, they still catch themselves thinking of you a bit too much in their opinion. The truth is, this person's love for you is so grand and vast they're afraid it would swallow the both of you whole. And this person, to protect you and the connection, has decided to take their distances a bit to allow you some space and time to decide for yourself whether that was something you truly wanted. This person is keeping you at arms length. They want to ignore you but something in their energy is just constantly reminding them of your existence. Specifically, they feel a tug in their body, a warm sensation that they immediately associate with you. This person is very in tune with their intuition and they instictively know when you're thinking about them. I get a message that you and this person are mirroring each other when it comes to your energies and how you feel about the other. This person knows that you are watching them from afar and they have no problem with that. They feel compassion towards you because they know you may be facing the same troubles as them. They have a lot of affection for you and more than anything, they just wish for you to be happy. They are conscious of their issues and the difficulties that come along with loving them. And they don't want to impose those on you.

I get the message that you and this person live at a distance from one another and are not in contact right now. At least not as much as you maybe used to. As you are taking time away from each other and keeping to yourselves, this person is maybe noticing things they didn't pick up on before, either about themselves or about you. They are also trying to gain clarity on their own perception of what is going on. I get a feeling like they are not sure about how they feel towards you or where they want things to go. So taking a break allows them to really figure out what you mean to them. As they're not seeing you, their third eye is actually awakening. The farther away you are from them the more channeling they're able to do. This person is in a phase where they need to find themselves and explore the depths of their own consciousness. So they are not as emotionally available as they used to. They care about you but those feelings have been put aside as they are called to focus on their purpose. Even though you hold a special place in their heart, they have other priorities that they are not willing to set aside because of how important these are to their own path. I feel like this person is going through a spiritual awakening and this is leading them to progressively disconnecting from you. And a part of them hopes that you'll be able to understand that this isn't something they're doing out of pleasure.

Group 3

"Big communication, tell me what you want. Translate your vibration, let your body talk."

The Alchemist, Transmute, Power, The Revolutionary, The Pillar, Ask Body, back of the deck Destruction

I get a lot of sexual tension coming from this group. The person you were thinking of is very attracted to you, so much so that they have a hard time holding it back. It is so intense at times that it scares them. They feel like if they give in to what they've been thinking and feeling, they'll lose control and ruin it all. How they feel towards you is very visceral. And the more time goes by the deeper their feelings get. This person feels like you've left a strong impression on them and an indelible mark on their life. Now that they've met you, they can never be the same again. They feel very inspired by you and motivated in your presence, you make them feel like they can take on the world and make miracles happen. You give them the courage to try things they never thought they'd do before. You push them to be a better person and question their beliefs. This person feels like they have to protect you at all costs. I get the message of this person getting outraged imagining you being with someone else. Like, they may be working or just chilling out in their home and suddenly an intrusive thought comes of you being flirted with by another person. And they kick their feet in anger and just completely lose focus. I can hear them say "no! I can't let that happen ! Don't you touch my person!". They just feel very possessive of you and a part of them wishes it weren't like that. They feel a bit ashamed because they think you wouldn't like it. Like "what gives me the right to be so clingy? They are a human being they have the right to live without me" but at the same time they just can't help it. I was hearing "I'm a s*c*er for you". Also, I picked up on LOSER from BIGBANG. I get the message of this person being clingy because they're afraid to lose you. They didn't get many opportunities in their life to love someone like they love you. I feel like this person had been alone for a long time before they met you and thus forgot what it was like to love and be loved. And now that they were reminded of it, they just don't want it to stop.

I get the message of this person strongly wishing for you to stay in their life for as long as possible, even imagining a future where you are together as a couple, having your own home and family. They fantasize a lot about what life with you would be like. But also a part of them wonders if they'll ever be able to get to this level. It's like they doubt that they're capable of such a thing or they're afraid you wouldn't deem them worthy. I get the message they put a lot of pressure on their shoulders because they think you deserve the finest things in life. They put you on a pedestal. I think you became this person's support system and that means a lot to them. You may be came at a time in their life when they were feeling like all hopes of being happy were lost. Maybe you helped this person overcome whatever trouble they were in and they feel indebted to you. I also got the message that you transformed this person's conception of love and relationships. Specifically I pick up on someone that used to claim they would never get married but after meeting you, they changed their mind. Also their ego got "destroyed" at your contact. They had put up walls to protect themselves which you dismantled one by one. This person really burns with desire for you and if they could get you all to themselves they would be the happiest person alive. If they were maybe distant in the past or acting cold towards you I feel like overtime this person may be showing you a lot more of their softer side and attraction for you. They may be teasing you a lot or just being more present overall, trying to be all up in your space, mainly to make sure no one else tries to steal their spot in your heart.

[babygorewhore]

You can be just friends…right?

Best friend Rafe Cameron x alt!fem reader!

Being polar opposites of Rafe Cameron at first you clashed but eventually, you became close. After driving you to his house to celebrate an accomplishment, Rafe sees Topper hitting on you and finally lets himself be vulnerable.

Thank you to @bloodibambiidoll for helping me with the headers and letting me brainstorm! @cyberangel-graphics divider credit!

Warnings! Reader is inspired by Wednesday Addams! Season 4 era Rafe. Canon! Rafe! Oral! Fem receiving, praise, he lightly holds readers neck, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, barely edited because I’m ill.

“For someone who dresses like a witch, you take the girliest drinks.” Rafe set the coffee cup in front of you and sat across from you. You gave him a side glance while typing on your laptop, mumbling a thanks.

Rafe Cameron, an unlikely companion you met in your junior year in high school while he was a senior a long time ago. The friendship evolved after a healthy rivalry because you met his horrible attitude with dry wit.

But you had a fondness for the crash out oldest Cameron offspring. Who was arranging meetings and “handling business.” As he liked to put it. You were writing up the latest chapter of your fan fiction. A popular story that got good traction. It was also something Rafe never ceased to tease you about whenever he glanced at the words you came up with.

Rafe insisted on driving you to local animal shelter you volunteered at twice a week because normally you walked or drove the quote, “Death trap.” That he threatened to have removed from your garage.

And due to his busy schedule, this was one of the few times during the week you were able to physically spend time together.

“You hear the news about Sarah and uh, John B?” Rafe bright your attention away from the musing of your thoughts and you met his icy stare.

“My relationship with your middle sister is polite at best, Rafe. So, no.” You quipped and he exhaled sharply.

“Why do you talk like that-nevermind. Nah, she’s having a baby and I need help picking out a gift. She doesn’t know the gender yet but I could use your help.” He sounded…pained and you gently closed your laptop.

Your black nail polish shined, the skull ring on your ring finger a gift from Rafe six months ago. “Babies aren’t exactly my specialty, Rafe and seeing you as an Uncle is really funny but can’t you get Wheezie to help you?”

“Wow, okay, I come to you with a genuine question and you’re blowing me off.” He accused and you lightly kicked him with a boot.

“Enough with the dramatics. I’ll sign my name on the card and we’ll consider that my contribution.”

“A card? For what?” You huffed at his lack of knowledge.

“I suppose I can…try.”

That interaction concluded a typical day between you both. Later that week, Rafe landed a massive business deal that secured a lot of money. Naturally, your outgoing best friend wanted to celebrate. His definition of having a good time and yours differed massively.

Rafe announced that he was having a party and you were coming. He didn’t ask. Knowing you’d say no so instead his solution was to show up to your apartment, holding a black bag and a large cup of coffee.

“Don’t look at me like that, Monster High. Just take the bag.” Rafe ordered and you accepted it. He stepped inside your home, leaned against the wall and made a motion with his hand.

“Go change and I’m taking you to my place.” He saw the way your nose crinkled and his hands set firmly on your shoulders.

Physical contact wasn’t uncommon from Rafe but lately it happened a lot more. Brushes against your back, a hand on the knee or smoothing away your hair. You weren’t the best at guessing intentions so it made you feel conflicted.

You liked it. You liked the gestures. And you were embarrassed to. Your best friend made it abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in commitments and verbalizing his emotions definitely wasn’t his strong suit.

You wrote it off as pure thoughtless action as you changed clothing in your bedroom. You glanced in the mirror, already knowing it fit perfectly. It was a black dress, shorter than you normally wore and the bodice hugged your curves.

You came out, after customizing the outfit with fishnets and chunky shoes. Rafe straightened, his tall form stiffening at the sight of you approaching him. His jaw flexed and he opened his mouth to say something before deciding otherwise.

“Let’s go.”

You had busied yourself with setting up the music, straightening furniture and making sure the pool sparking until Rafe basically hauled you to socialize. You knew the guests but didn’t particularly enjoy them. But Rafe liked attention. He liked being around people who admired him and earning respect. He walked off, momentarily distracted by Barry and you took the opportunity to speed walk to the kitchen.

You poured yourself a soda, revealing in the brief moment of quiet when you felt a presence behind you. Turning, you saw Topper side step and stand before you. He gave you a friendly smile and instinctively pulled you into a greeting hug. You barely returned it, grimacing at the unwelcome contact and stood awkwardly.

“Hello.”

“Hey, how you doing? You look beautiful.” You almost felt…bad for him. You knew he meant it but he was just so…not your type.

“Thank you, Topper. How are you?” You felt like chewing glass at the small talk but he seemed to take it the wrong way. Topper moved even closer, mustering all the charm he could.

“Better now that I’m talking to you, pretty girl. What made you decide to join a party? It’s not your scene, huh?”

God, you wanted the earth to swallow you. But if you left, you’d be back with the crowd and loud music. Sweaty bodies and the sweltering sun. You debated sending a smoke signal but Topper’s hand fell on your arm.

Your eyes widened and he leaned down to whisper. “I mean we can always go somewhere more private.”

“For what?” You questioned and moved your head back.

“Jesus, I leave for two seconds and you’re already chomping at the bit, bro.” Rafe’s voice sounded more like salvation but the anger in his eyes took you aback.

“She’s off limits, man and I’ve told you that shit more than once. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull?” Rafe touched his fingers to his temples and you looked back and forth between the males.

“I didn’t realize that she was collared by you, Rafe. Thought you were just friends?” Topper shot back and you peered at Rafe.

“It’s not a big deal, Rafe. Why are you acting like this?” You questioned and he shook his head.

“Just leave her alone. She obviously doesn’t like you.” Rafe gave Topper a threatening glare and you rolled your eyes.

You crossed your arms and stepped directly in front of your best friend.

“What’s going on with you? Lately, you’ve been different. Short tempered, more than before and now this. Is there something going on?”

Your direct question made Rafe take hold of your elbow. “cmon. I don’t wanna do this right here.”

“No. You can tell me here. Now.” You sternly replied and swatted his hand away. “What’s wrong with you?”

Rafe looked on the verge of losing his mind and he looked at Topper. “Will you take a fucking hint, dude? Go!” He shooed him and you heard footsteps descending.

You held your ground and stared him in the eye. “I’m waiting.”

“Look. I know this was a weird, shitty way to do this and you know I’m not good at the whole feeling thing. But I wanted to do something nice for you tonight. I wanted you to-I wanted to tell you that you’re important to me.” He was stumbling and scratching the back of his neck.

You raised an eyebrow. “So…you throw a party, knowing I don’t like them, drive me here after buying me this dress just to tell me I’m important?” You parroted and he groaned.

“No! I mean-yeah but-damn it.” Rafe stopped speaking but cupped the back of your head. You gasped as he brought his lips to yours in a slightly open mouthed kiss. His other hand pressed you against him by splaying on your lower back, deepening your lip lock.

His mouth was soft, dominant as he met your tongue and squeezed your hip. Shock disappeared and you kissed him back. Your stomach had butterflies and your center tightened as Rafe’s thick fingers found the top of your ass.

Your lipstick was most likely ruined as Rafe sucked your lower lip but ripped himself away. He breathed heavily and tossed a side glance around him.

“Let’s go,” He took your hand and started quickly walking. You jogged to keep up with his pace.

“Rafe, where are we going?” You asked but he kept moving, his steps quick and you saw the familiar door of his bedroom.

He pulled you inside, closing the door behind him and he went to bring you back to him but you held up a palm.

“Wait. What, what is this?” You were finally collecting your thoughts after the heated kiss, your nerve endings in overdrive and your skin burning. Catching a glimpse of yourself in his mirror, you saw your smeared lipstick and you sighed exasperatedly.

“What’s what? I told you earlier,” Rafe began but you interrupted.

“I know what you said. But what does that mean? In this moment. Do you just want to hook up? Is that why you just brought me in here? Is that all you want?” He didn’t miss the pointed accusation but he didn’t respond in anger.

Rafe touched his shaved scalp, chest deflating. “I get why you’d think that but no. I don’t wanna just fuck you. I like you. I like your little weird quirks. I like how you’re not afraid of what people think. I don’t want you to be any different.”

You remained silent, letting him find his words.

“Look. It’s more than…liking you. I love you,” Rafe spoke your name with a tenderness you rarely heard. Your heart swelled at his confession.

“Seeing you is the best part of my week. Talking to you is one of the only things that keep me from losing my mind. You’ve been there for me when everything went to shit and when I lost my dad (TW WARD mention)” Rafe took a step forward, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to touch you.

“And you’re always calling me out when I act like a dick. Which is a lot.” He bit his lower lip and your gaze flickered between his face to the floor.

“I mean can you blame me? For falling for you?” Rafe chuckled, bright teeth showing and you swallowed. Trying to moisten your dry mouth.

“Rafe, this doesn’t seem real.” You confessed. “I mean you’ve always talked about not wanting to settle down and why should I believe that I’ll be any different?”

Rafe perked up, not dissuaded and his palms finally settled on your waist. It was comfortable, despite the way your belly hurtled at his attempt at being gentle.

“Wait, that’s not a no. That’s not a rejection, do you love me?”

You felt completely naked. He was imploring you with his perfect face and intense eye contact. You weren’t good at living in the moment. You were always overthinking. And this wasn’t a cookie cutter situation. Rafe had problems. Deep ones. So did you.

But you couldn’t lie to him.

“Yes, Rafe. I love you too.” It was a shaky admission but he seized the opportunity and kissed you again.

He pressed so hard you could feel his teeth and he looped his arms around your back. Rafe lifted you off the ground, making you squeak in surprise and he landed you both on his bed.

You’d fantasized about this plenty of times but it was even better. Rafe was strong, his firm body easily weighed yours down and he effortlessly shifted your body higher. He cupped your jaw and massaged your tongue with his.

You moaned softly and then louder as he kneaded your tits. Rafe messily peppered kisses along your neck, sucking your sweet spot and your back arched. His ring clad fingers were warm as he lifted the bottom of your dress up. Exposing your body and black underwear.

“God you’re so fucking pretty. You gonna let me show you that, baby?” He breathed and dragged his lips against your upper stomach, down, down and Rafe inhaled the scent from your open legs.

His big hands peeled off your panties and he grunted deep in his chest as he looked at the wetness in the center.

“Well, you’ve been needing this, huh?” Rafe mused and caused you to whimper as he dragged his tongue to the middle of your underwear.

“If that tastes sweet, I bet the source is even better.” Without another second hesitation, Rafe pushed your thighs apart, encouraging you to put them over his shoulders. Your heels dug into his back as he dived in.

Rafe didn’t eat pussy that often. He usually warmed a girl up with his fingers before fucking her senseless. But with you, his dick throbbed at the taste of your cunt as he lapped away. He was a little aggressive, moving his head back and forth. Digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs but your groans and the way you set your hand on his head drove him crazy.

“Mhm, fuck, yeah i know. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Rafe praised and separated your folds. He sucked your clit and gently nipped with his teeth. Soothing it immediately and you were almost seeing stars as you rode his face.

He gave you an encouraging slap on the ass and brought you impossibly closer. You knew he probably couldn’t breathe but when Rafe tongue fucked your entrance and then dragged back to your clit it caused you to be embarrassingly loud.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming-Rafe-“ you chanted and he pried your legs back open to lick you through it. Your body trembled and your eyes fluttered open as he crawled up.

The sight of his glistening chin and mouth was the hottest thing. Rafe gripped your cheeks. “Give me those fucking lips,” And he fused them together.

You tasted the remnants of yourself as you put your hands underneath his shirt. Rafe impatiently took it off, quickly kissing you again and his fingers made work to remove his pants.

“Gonna fill you up, princess. Need to fuck your pussy,” He almost sounded on the brink of begging and you sighed in admiration as you glanced at his cock.

Rafe took the leaking tip and ran it along your slit. Tapping the head against your puffy clit and he pushed into you. The stretch ached for a second but then the way he hit the deepest spot in you made your eyes roll back.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and Rafe moaned deep in his chest. His lips found your ear, “You feel so good, fuck, I’ve been wanting this. You can take it, atta girl.”

He clamped your thigh down, holding it against the mattress, spreading you as open as possible and his other hand settled lightly around your neck. Your mouth parted and Rafe thrusted harder. Balls thudding against your ass.

“Taking me like a good girl, that’s it. Move with me,” Rafe ordered and you were fucked out completely but obeyed him.

You took his fingers in your mouth when he moved his hand, sucking softly and Rafe smiled at you with his slight smugness.

“Just Fucking your best friend and you’re already brainless. Give it to me, let me have your cum,” Rafe looked down at your connected bodies and gave you a deep roll of his hips.

You let out a sob, tears streaming down your face and mascara running down your cheeks. Your orgasm came like a tidal wave and you buried your face into Rafe’s neck, biting lightly on his shoulder.

Rafe was right behind you, emptying his cum in your pussy and he moaned thickly. His arms squeezed you a bit too tight but it was comforting. You still moved, hooking your knee against his ribcage and flipped him on his back.

Rafe let out a noise of surprise but then his blue eyes were darkened with lust. Your hands ran down his chest as sweat decorated your skin. Your jeweled fingers and bracelets clinked as you teasingly dragged your nails on his shoulders.

“I like seeing you confident. It’s hot.” Rafe smirked and reached up to brush a knuckle against your cheekbone. “Mmm, you’re so pretty y’know? I’ve always thought that. Even with all that on your face.”

You rolled your eyes but gave him a returning smile. Straddling his lap, you gently bounced right above his dick. “Bet you’re just saying that.”

He rested his head back, cupping your ass and meeting your motions. “Nah, you know I mean it.”

“So, what now?”

“We figure it out. But for now,” Rafe leaned up and you felt his abs tighten. “You gonna let me feel that pretty little pussy again?”

Tagging @cxrrodedcoffin @marchsfreakshow @dirtylittlefairytales @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @stillwjk-channie-lixie @gri959 @userchai @eddieslut69 @rafeinterlude @eddiesxangel @rafeyscurtainbangs @fear-is-truth @sturnioloshacker @decodedlvr @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab

[simplygojo]

How To Handle A Sulk...

Author's Note: Helloooo!!! I really liked this idea from the lovely 🫧 anon! tysm for requesting and I hope you like this blurb :) Grumpy Suguru is no match for the reader!

Wordcount: 1.1k

Pairing: Suguru Geto x reader

Warnings: angsty suguru, pouty boy, invasions of personal space lowkey, funny reader (ofc), suggestive content, fem!pronouns used,

masterlist // request guidelines // kofi // discord channel

You could tell Suguru was in one of those moods the moment you walked through the door.

He was perched on the couch, his dark hair pulled into a slightly messy bun, arms crossed over his chest. His legs sprawled out in front of him, taking up more than his fair share of the space, and an unmistakable grumpiness overshadowed his usual air of quiet confidence.

“Rough day?” you asked casually, setting your bag down on the counter.

He grunted in response, eyes glued to the TV. You glanced at the screen—a nature documentary you knew he wasn’t watching.

Uh-oh.

Suguru in a sulk wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened often enough for you to know the signs: clipped responses, the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the furrow just above the bridge of his nose that deepened every time the narrator’s voice droned on about ocean predators.

You let him stew for a few minutes while you busied yourself in the kitchen, brewing tea the way he liked it. By the time you returned, balancing the steaming mug in one hand and your resolve to lighten the mood in the other, he hadn’t budged an inch.

“Alright, grumpy pants,” you announced, setting the tea on the coffee table with a small clink. “What’s eating you?”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, his baritone voice a touch sharper than usual.

“Uh-huh. Sure you are.”

Sliding onto the couch next to him, you folded your legs beneath you and leaned in slightly, resting your elbow on the back of the couch. 

His profile was as sharp as ever, jaw tight and lips faintly downturned, but the faintest pink dusted his ears—a telltale sign that his mood wasn’t as impenetrable as he wanted it to be.

“I mean, you’re obviously in a great mood,” you said breezily, resting your chin in your palm. “Sulking on the couch, ignoring your very sweet girlfriend who brought you tea. Definitely fine.”

His jaw twitched, and he finally turned to look at you, his dark eyes narrowed in a mix of irritation and challenge. “I’m not sulking.”

You gasped, mock-offended, your hand flying to your chest. “Oh no, of course not. You’re just brooding dramatically in silence. Completely different.”

He sighed, leaning back against the couch with an air of exasperation that was almost theatrical. 

His arms stayed firmly crossed, his muscles tensing under the fabric of his sweater.

You couldn’t help but smile. It was just so Suguru to sulk like this, to wrap himself in his mood and let it stew. But you also knew how to coax him out of it.

“Alright, big guy,” you said, shifting closer to him, your knee brushing against his thigh. “Let’s see if we can’t make you crack.”

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t move away as you placed your hand lightly on his chest, fingers grazing over the soft knit of his sweater.

“You’re too handsome to sit around pouting like this, you know. It’s practically a crime.”

He let out a soft huff, his eyes flicking back to the TV, but you caught the faintest twitch of his lips.

Undeterred, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek. “The perfect boyfriend package—handsome, smart, and broody. How did I get so lucky?” 

Suguru didn’t budge, his jaw tightening further as his eyes flicked back to the TV.

It was a deliberate move like he was determined to pretend your touch hadn’t fazed him.

His lack of reaction only fueled your determination.

“Hmm,” you hummed softly, leaning in closer, your lips brushing against his cheek again—this time just a little slower. 

“Not even a thank you? I’m sitting here, pouring my heart out about how irritatingly perfect you are, and you’re giving me nothing?”

Still, nothing. 

His expression remained stoic, his shoulders rigid, his eyes trained stubbornly on the screen as if the documentary about penguin migration was the most riveting thing in the world.

You tilted your head, a sly smile playing on your lips. 

“Alright,” you murmured, voice dropping just enough to make the words linger in the air, “guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

Your hand, which had been resting lightly on his chest, began a slow descent, grazing the soft fabric of his sweater as your fingertips skimmed over his stomach. 

You could feel the faintest twitch beneath your touch, the slightest shift in his breathing, but still, he didn’t look at you.

His silence was its own challenge, and you weren’t one to back down.

“You’re really going to ignore me?” you asked, your tone laced with playful disbelief as your hand drifted even lower, grazing his thigh—not quite enough to cross a line, but enough to make your intentions crystal clear.

For a moment, you thought you saw his lips twitch, a crack in his carefully constructed indifference.

But when you glanced up at his face, it was still set in that infuriatingly stoic expression, his dark eyes unyielding as they stared straight ahead.

“Oh, come on, Suguru,” you pressed, leaning in until your breath ghosted over the shell of his ear. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone completely cold on me.”

His fingers twitched where they rested on his knee, but he still didn’t look at you.

You sighed dramatically, shifting closer so that your thigh pressed against his.

“Fine, be that way,” you murmured, brushing your lips against his jaw this time, slow and deliberate.

That did it.

It wasn’t much—just the faintest intake of breath, the smallest flicker in his eyes—but it was enough to tell you that his calm façade was slipping.

Suguru stiffened immediately, his head snapping toward you, the flush on his ears now spreading to his cheeks. 

“Y/n—” he started, his voice lower and warning, but the slight crack at the end of his sentence betrayed him.

You smirked, tilting your head innocently as your fingers lingered, not quite touching him but enough to make him squirm. “Hmm? Something wrong?”

He narrowed his eyes, but the blush creeping across his face told you everything you needed to know. You pressed another kiss to his cheek, softer this time, your lips lingering just long enough to make his breath hitch.

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered, but his voice had lost its edge, the irritation melting into something quieter, more vulnerable.

“And you love it,” you teased, finally moving your hand away to rest against his arm instead.

His muscles were tense under your touch, but as you ran your fingers along his forearm, you felt him slowly relax.

A moment passed before he sighed again, this time less dramatic and more resigned. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Oh, I know,” you said brightly, leaning your head on his shoulder. He didn’t pull away, and you smiled against the soft fabric of his sweater, satisfied with your small victory.

It wasn’t long before you felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer…

Yeah, grumpy Suguru didn’t stand a chance against you.

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count:3086

Finale I - part 3/3 (Agatha X Reader ending):

After that intense experience, you took separate ways... for now.

Since Agatha's House was destroyed, you took her into yours. The sign of your little shop was turned to 'Closed' for the past few days now, as you chose to spend your days in your little apartment right above it.

Both Agatha and you needed to recover from everything that took place, Agatha to come to terms with her permanently white hair but also make up for lost time.

You were laying on the couch, your head resting on Agatha's laps. A book was being held in her one hand as the other was gently passing through your hair; a gently caress that relaxed you.

You lazily looked at her, both wearing simple silk robes for comfort; finding no need for clothes, since they wouldn't stay on for long.

She was reading something that put her into thought, evident by how she chewed her bottom lip faintly.

Your gaze became more intense, focusing longer than you wanted on her pink lip that was trapped beneath her white teeth.

Of course, Agatha sensed it and looked down at you; freeing her lip. "You are staring, sugar."

You offerer a cheeky smile, not embarrassed by you getting caught by her. "It's not my fault, really. Chewing that lip of yours is tempting."

"Hmm," she hummed in amusement, the edges of her lips curving into a smirk. "Is that so?"

"You don't believe me?" You questioned and pushed your body up so you could be closer to her face.

She did not mind the proximity. Instead, she welcomed it; a sparkle of mischief in her blue eyes. "Should I?"

You knew what she was doing, trying to bait you into actually doing something.

And you, like the fish you were, happily let yourself get caught in her nets. Without another word, you placed one hand against her cheek and pressed your lips with hers; your actions were sweet and caring.

Agatha allowed her free hand that once was in your hair to be placed upon yours, pressing it harder against her cheek. The other let the book fall to the ground as it moved to the back of your head and pushed you more into the kiss.

Your lips parted willingly, sighing in her mouth as she took control; every moment with her feeling like a dream you did not wish to wake up from.

Agatha's hand left yours and started to gently caress your body above the robe, heading for the slit that existed between your legs. Her touch made you moan, especially when you felt her warm hand against your thigh; pushing your robe further up.

The hand behind your head kept you there, kissing you even when the need for air was becoming too strong; letting you pull back faintly only for her to attack your neck.

"Agatha," you moaned, feeling the hand behind your head grabbing your hair and tugging it back; forcing you to expose more of your neck to her hungry lips. "Mmm."

Her greedy hand kept moving up and down, reaching too close to your centre and then trailing away; driving you crazy with her teasing.

You were trapped by invisible bonds caused by your love for her and her teasing, ever move of her making you more needy of her... of her touch, her kisses, her presence.

"Yes, pet?" She whispered against your skin, teeth gently grazing and preparing you for the bite she was about to place on you; a fresh mark for her to admire later on.

Before she could, however, someone knocked at the back door that led to your apartment.

Agatha tried to ignore it, the feeling of your pulse against her lips too tempting to just let go.

The knocking continued. Whoever was wishing to draw your attention was definitely persistent.

"Ags..." You sighed faintly, trying to hold back a moan. Your free hand went to the back of her neck, fingers gently tugging her thick hair. "The door."

"They will leave," she argued, fighting back her annoyance.

"It's Billy."

The name of the teenage witch made her stop and pull back, looking at your flustered face and hooded eyes. If this was a trick, she ws going to make you regret it.

"Agatha! Y/N!" The familiar voice of Billy reaching you. "I know you are in there. I can hear your thoughts... and I truly wish I didn't right now."

Defeated, Agatha let you go.

You chuckled faintly, your cheeks a faint pink as you got up. Fixing your robe that Agatha had so gracefully hitched up, you walked towards the door.

At the same time, your lover bent and grabbed the fallen book before leaving it closed on the nearest coffee table by her right.

You removed the bolt, feeling your magic reacting to his presence; recognising the familiar unique magic the boy possessed.

You opened the door. "Hey, Billy," you greeted and pushed the door wider open while also stepping to the side. "Come in."

He offered you a small smile and entered your house for the first time, looking around at the minimalistic design that sort of suited your style.

With how often you changed towns and states due to your expended life, you learnt not to possess a lot of things; making it easier to pack and start a new life.

Agatha cleared her throat, not even bothering to stand up and greet him. Sure, she didn't mind seeing him, but he had currently interrupted her from making you squirm and beg while laid on her legs.

"You want some tea, Billy?" You asked, doing your best to recover from the teasing.

"Uhm, yes, please," he replied as he took a seat on the armchair. "Agatha," he greeted, clearing his throat.

He was trying hard to forget the glimpse of her thoughts that he got while waiting for them to open the door... for obvious reasons.

It was in those moments that he was thankful that he could not hear your thoughts, for he was not sure he would have managed to look any of you in the eye.

"Came to crush the party, Billy boy?" Agatha questioned, taking no shame in what had almost taken place or the fact that the noisy teenager across from her had read her thoughts.

Billy felt uncomfortable and rubbed his sweaty palms on his black jeans, unsure how to answer. Thankfully for him, you arrived with three mugs of tea and passed him one.

You passed the other to Agatha and sat by her side, folding your bare legs beneath you to protect them from the faint chill.

"So, Billy," you started, taking a sip of the warm liquid. "What brings you here?"

The boy tried to copy you and drink some tea, only to cough faintly and pull back; having underestimated how hot the liquid was

"I..." he cleared his throat and tried to ignore the burning sensation coming from his tongue. "Just wanted to ask a few questions. Since, well... back then, it was not really the right time."

Agatha scoffed. "Oh, really?"

You nudged her with your elbow and sent her a silent look, full of argument. She merely glanced to the side, not truly accepting defeat or the fact that you scolded her like a child.

"Go ahead, Billy." You encouraged the boy.

The teenager was thankful for your interference. "So... uhm, about what Rio said back then... about you being a blessed child."

"Ah," you exclaimed gently and tapped your fingers against the mug. "It's quite a story, there."

Agatha sipped the tea from her purple mug. "Basically, witches have found different ways to have children; not always in the need of a mam. A blessed child is no different..." she kept her face serious, and Billy hung from her every word. "Though in such cases, a witch must cast a forbidden and dangerous ritual. Ask the triple godess to bless her with a child. It is more of a myth, impossible to get an answer or a successful term."

Billy leaned forward, clearly interested. "So, that means that you..." his attention was focused on your form, fingers tapping against the mug as the topic was not one you would truly discuss.

"I am not entirely human," you finished for him, taking a few sips of the hot tea to ease the feeling within. "Though, witches are not considered entirely human either; most of them. I am simply... the exception within the exception."

Agatha, sensing your uneasiness and the sensitivity of the topic; moved her free hand and gently pushed some strands of your hair over your shoulder; silently studying you for when you needed her to interfere

You were thankful for her actions, the silent but caring move offering you confidence. The topic was... sensitive, but you did not wish to fight it or keep things from Billy.

He deserved to know.

"This is why Rio had such special interest in her," Agatha continued. "She must have been the first one to see in centuries."

Billy was finally able to drink the tea. "But why?" He questioned as he remembered how Lilia mentioned moon witches, and yet not even the Internet seemed to have a lot of answers on them.

You took a deep breath. "Cause there is a catch, Billy." You looked at him in the eyes, your voice stable despite the uneasiness within. "You see, moon witches were born more often back then... before the Salem Trials, before even Lilia's time."

"It was a dark time even for witches," Agatha added. "The number of magic users was vast, and there were rivalries. The use of dark magic was growing popular, and many witches were going solitary in search of power."

Billy wanted to comment and scoff, considering this was what Agatha did. In more ways than one. Yet he remained silent, interested, and eager in this story.

"There were witches, though, who tried to even the odds; to maintain the balance," you continued. "They prayed and experimented and created a ritual, giving birth to a new line of witches; capable of stopping the dark influence from spreading... and they did. But there was a catch..." You passed your tongue over your dry lips. "The goddes' powers were shared between each blessed child, a safe measure to ensure things remained balanced. But witches got greedy, and one blessed child turned on another; eliminating the competition. Normal witches, forming powerful covens, also grabbed the chance to eliminate any moon witches; they were afraid their powers would take control. In the end, the moon witches became extinct, and no one had ever managed to birth a new one..."

"Until my greedy mother came along," Agatha said, her annoyance and anger evident by the snarl on her face. "She was so certain I was born evil. She thought she had found her answer by bringing forth a blessed child to do the nasty work for her."

Billy could almost imagine it all taking place, from the battles to Evanora forming this ridiculous and selfish plan.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

Evanora stood in front of a young witch, one of the may belonging to her coven; the Salemties.

"Evanora," the girl called the woman's name, carefully treading the waters. After all, their leader was known to have a temper and a foul mood; especially ever since she birthed Agatha two years prior. "I don't think this will work....what if the goddess rejects me? She did this to others."

Evanora grabbed the hands of the young witch, trying to sound supportive and caring. "It has to, Adelaide. The moon godess herself knows there is evil in Agatha. This needs to happen to prevent the past from repeating itself."

The young witch was uncertain and fearful. She was not sure she wanted to be a mother, but Evanora had personally chosen her among the other witches, and she should be honoured.

Her purity and innocence made her a perfect candidate, and many witches considered her lucky to be given such privilege.

What no one knew back then was the fact that the moon Goddess knew Agatha's path, and she knew that a special someone was needed to eventually save her.

And thus, the ritual became a success; no one knew how this unborn child was destined to do the exact opposite of what they expected of her.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The 9 months of pregnancy passed fast, and young Agatha had no clue of the plans that led to it. When the time for the labour came, the process was hard, but Evanora had a skilful midwife and healer that was more than capable of doing her job.

When the child was born, it was Evanora that held the child first; not even allowing the young mother to do that. With greedy eyes, she searched both hands of the infant until she spotted the birthmark on the right wrist.

"A blessed child," she exclaimed, prideful that the ritual was successful. She then looked at the young witch, who was trying to recover from both the blood loss and the tough labour. "You must raise her, in solitude but within the coven grounds. She must be taught her path and trained to be ready. She must learn we are her allies and the rules of the coven." She instructed, showing little concern for the new mother.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Raising a moon child was tough, especially when one had to do it alone. The other witches offered their assistance, but none wished to help with the child directly. They were either too afraid due to the old rumours or simply did not want to put effort, since that child was only created to take down Agatha.

Thus, you were raised by a single mother; never understanding the hesitation behind her moves or the looks she would give you.

Sometimes, she looked at you with care and treated you as her own child. She would put you to sleep and gladly show you her light blue magic with little cute shows.

And then, there were days you would look at her with those glowing white eyes... moments you would show your magic, hardly in any control, and yet being able to achieve things other witches tried hard for years.

There were days she would catch you talking to plain air or stare at the moon for hours as if hypnotised. You would look at her with such a deep look, an ancient soul trapped within the body of a child.

The burden eventually became too much, and she could not take it anymore. So one day, while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed; she confronted Evanora.

"I am sorry, but I can't do this anymore," she told the older witch. "I just.. can't..."

Evanora didn't have any empathy for her. "It's your duty. You have to. Her powers are already developing, and Agatha has yet to show hers. The chance is approaching."

Adelaide shook her head in denial. "No, I did my duty and carried her for nine months and birthed her. But I can not raise her. Treat her the way you do. She does not deserve this, and I refuse to play a part in it."

Evanora's gaze darkened with anger, and her hand moved faster than Adelaide anticipated. The loud sound of a smack echoed across the silent room, and the young witch felt the burning sensation against her cheek.

"You are a disgrace to your coven to your sisters," Evanora spat. "Leave my coven, leave those blessed grounds, and never come back, or you will never execute."

Those sharp words hurt more than her slap, and Adelaide looked at Evanora with teary eyes. She could not believe she was being cast out by her own coven leader.

Taking a deep breath, she kept whatever pride was left in her and marched inside the house; heading to pack the few things she had and leave.

Yet, when she passed in front of your room; she paused. With slow steps, she walked inside, observing your sleeping form as you hugged a wooden, carved little rabbit she had made for you.

She pressed her lips until they formed a thin line, and she gently caressed your little pink cheeks with the back of her fingers. "I am sorry," she whispered and pulled back, having little time to pack and leave; her heart heavy.

《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《

Silence enveloped the room, the topic laying heavy and causing a tension tough to break through. Yet you managed to break it first, Agatha's warm hand on yours being the anchor to keep you from losing control.

"Anyways... I don't believe this is the only reason why you visited, Billy," you said, emptying the remnants of the tea in one go.

The teenager shifted on his seat, choosing to focus on the next topic; one that he hesitated to bring up but had to.

"It's about Tommy," he informed, slowly gathering the courage to let you know. "Ever since I gave him a body... I can sense him stronger than before, but I can't find him... and I... I am not even sure how to approach him."

"And you want what?" Agatha asked. "Us to help you find him? Perhaps bring back those old Westview memories?" The guilty look Billy gave her was all the answers she needed. She looked at you. "Sugar?"

You looked back at her, offering a sweet smile. "I mean, it's not like we have anything else planned ahead."

She wanted to scold you, for she did have plenty of plans, all revolving around you, but in the end; she did not argue or voice her thoughts. She could see that spark in your eyes, and she had come to realize you did have a soft spot for the boy.

Then she dared to look at Billy, seeing the hope he held so tightly to worry beneath at what your answers would be.

In the end, Agatha let out a heavy sigh. "Well then..." she stood up and pushed her hair back. "Let's go find Tommy, shall we?" She extended a hand for you to take, gently helping you up.

Billy jumped up, already excited by your positive answers. He didn't say anything, but his big smile and energy were enough to express his gratitude towards the two of you.

'Hold on, Tommy,' He thought, as if his twin could hear him. 'We are coming for you'.

Finale II - part 1/3 (Agatha X Reader X Rio ending)

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter seven: just you

college au. the batboys are bartenders. so is the reader. they also play hockey.

pairings - eris vanserra x reader

summary - you and eris finally start over. for real this time.

word count - 2.5k

a/n - i am a lucien and eris good relationship truther. i want them to be friends so bad. also this might be the last official chapter in this series. but i'm going to write a bunch of blurbs/shorts for this series because we all deserve to see them happy and see their actual relationship.

read the rest of the series here!

Eris paced back and forth through his room. His hands ran through his already tousled hair, his pants hung loosely around his hips, and he was wearing one shoe. Lucien leaned lightly on the door frame, watching his brother pace with crossed arms and an all too bemused expression. 

“Why are you nervous?” 

“Why do you think Lucien?” 

Lucien scoffed and shrugged, “I mean it’s not like you’ve never met this girl. You guys were basically together for like two months or something.” 

Eris shook his head vigorously and stopped his pacing, only to stare blankly at his closet. 

“It’s different now.” 

“It is.” Lucien agreed slowly, “But probably better.” 

Eris muttered something completely inaudible under his breath as he reached for a shirt. A deep shade of red. You always told him that shade of red made his skin look “positively royal” whatever that was supposed to mean. He smiled at the thought. The way your fingers would trail over his cheekbones. Your hushed whispers against his skin, like freshly fallen snow. He shrugged the shirt on and tilted his head in slight agreement at his brother's words. 

“Maybe.” 

Lucien sighed and started to rummage through Eris’ closet for the missing shoe. Finding it and holding it aloft he said, 

“Definitely. It’s real this time.” 

He clasped Eris’ shoulder and gave him the most reassuring look he could muster. The slight panic etched across his older brother’s features almost unrecognizable. Like it had never graced the features before. Like the feeling was utterly uncommon. Lucien supposed it was. He had never seen his brother panic this way over a girl. Now to think of it, he had never seen Eris feel this much for someone. Put this much effort in. It was real this time. 

★ ★ ★

“I cannot believe this is why you called me here.” 

Cassian huffed from his perch on your bed. Once again he found himself watching you get dressed. Your clothes scattered across your bedroom floor. Your hair thrown up into maybe the worst ponytail he’d ever seen. And you weren’t wearing any pants. 

“I need your opinion. You have yet to fail me when it comes to outfit decision making Cassian.” 

He shook his head slowly and gave you a short once over, “Well…I would start with pants. Unless this is some sort of….statement you’re trying to make.” 

He waved his hand over your disheveled form and snickered softly at your indignation. 

“It’s not a statement, asshole. I just have no idea what we’re doing because that douchebag won’t tell me.” 

Cassian tilted his head to the side, “So wear something casual.” 

You started tossing clothes around your floor, hunting for something, but not sure of what. 

“No I can’t.” A shirt nearly hit Cassian in the face as you said, “Because what if he takes me somewhere really nice.” 

Cassian finally stood. Meeting you in the center of the room. He pushed you aside lightly as he headed for your closet. He perused it lazily, eventually reaching for a hanger and handing it to you. You took it, staring down at the black dress he had picked out, and raising an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“What if this is too dressy.” 

Your friend’s shoulders slumped and he brought a hand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples lightly. 

“Woman…you make my head hurt.” 

“BUT WHAT IF?” 

“Good lord. Then I don’t know.” He turned back to the closet pulling out one of your knit sweaters and shoved it towards you, “throw this on over it and wear it with sneakers or something. Then it can go from casual to dressy or vice versa.” 

His hands sat on his hips expectantly as you thought it over. Slowly you gave him a nod and he sighed in relief, falling back onto your bed, and watching you change. Once you’d shimmied into the dress, slid on some tights, and pulled the sweater over your head you turned to him. Waiting for final approval. He pointed to your hair and wrinkled his nose. 

You huffed and walked to your mirror, pulling your hair out from the hair tie that barely secured it. Running your fingers through it to smooth it out slightly. You tilted your head, examining your appearance. You looked nice. Really nice. Damn Cassian. He shouldn’t be able to be right about this sort of thing. You would have called Mor, but she would have put you in something all too short and all too tight. This was the right kind of outfit. Dressy but cozy. The sweater was a warm shade of red that screamed late days of autumn. 

You pulled on your pair of beat up converse. Your nice ones still at Eris’ house. You wondered if he’d gotten rid of them. But with how things were shaping up, maybe he hadn’t. A knock echoes from the front door through your apartment. You turn to Cassian, nervous now more than ever. 

“It’s gonna be fine.” He offered you. His voice soft and quiet as he stood to follow you to the door. 

You pulled the heavy wooden door open and there he was. Eris Vanserra. 

His auburn hair soft and neatly brushed into a look that was just messy enough that you might think he didn’t care about his hair. A few fiery strands falling over his forehead. You used to love to brush them gently away from his eyes. His skin like porcelain against the deep red of his sweater and the chocolatey brown of his jacket. He looked so polished. Like he always did, but slightly different. His slacks ironed to a tee. A perfectly clean crease in them. His watch glinting slightly from under the cuff of his jacket. His smile sneaking its way across his features as he took you in, completely ignoring Cassian towering behind you like a concerned parent. 

You inhale deeply before saying, “Huh. Seemingly routine dating clothes.” 

He let out a breath of laughter, “You look lovely too.” 

You shake your head, “No I mean you look good, but how hard is it to look good when you know where you’re going?” 

Eris gently guided you from the door frame by your elbow and chuckled, “You look perfect.” 

“Perfect for what exactly?” You counter with a mockingly distrustful look on your face. He merely shook his head, holding fast to his secrecy as he herded you down the stairs. 

“HAVE HER BACK BY TEN.” Cassian called after you as Eris led you out of the building. You flipped him off over your shoulder and shook your head at Eris. 

★ ★ ★

He had been driving for maybe forty five minutes. Deeper and deeper into the countryside surrounding the campus. You sat in the passenger seat, trying not to fidget, trying not to ask too many questions about your whereabouts. But you couldn’t help yourself, 

“You can admit it if you’re lost, you know.” 

“I’m not lost” His voice was warm and full of amusement. He was enjoying your confusion. Your frustration at not knowing exactly what was about to happen. Finally relinquishing some control and letting him decide exactly where you were heading. 

“Are you going to kill me in the woods? Because like I get it. Believe me. But I really don’t think that murdering me in the wilderness is really the best way to start our second relationship, Eris.” 

He let out a low laugh but didn’t respond, only furthering your frustration, 

“Cassian saw me leave with you. He’ll notice I’m gone. He’ll rat you out so fast.” 

Finally Eris stopped the car. Pulling over at the top of a hillside overlooking the campus and the surrounding town. He stepped out of the car before walking around it to open your door, holding your hand as he guided you out. 

“I’m not going to kill you.” He said through a wide smile. 

You furrowed your brows and looked past him. Over the hillside. At the twinkling lights of the town. Everything brushed in the golden light it emitted. The glow only bringing out the reds and oranges of the trees. The end of fall had never looked so beautiful. The crease in your brows eased away at the sight. A small breath escaping your lips. Eris moved to stand behind you. Tentatively wrapping his arms around you and leaning against the hood of the car, pulling you to lean against him. 

“You like it?” He whispered 

You nod absentmindedly, almost not registering what exactly he said. Intoxicated by the closeness of him. The envelopment of his arms. The all encompassing comforting smell radiating from him. The sheer warmth of him. Wrapping around you in a loving embrace. It was like that warmth could seep into every crack of your heart and seer it back together. Maybe this time you’d let it. 

He reached a hand up, under your chin, and tilted your head upwards. Pointing now to the sky. Stars glittering down at you, constellations visible in the cloudless night. Constellations not so far off from the ones you’d mapped across his chest, connecting freckles like they were more important than any celestial light. And then you saw it. A bolt of light shooting across the sky. Followed by another. And another. 

Another gasp escaped you and you could almost sense Eris’ smile grow impossibly wider. You turned to face him. Your eyes glittering with the reflection of a thousand twinking stars. He wanted to get lost in them. Swim forever in that twinkling pool that lived beneath your lashes. But instead he shrugged half heartedly. Arms still wrapped around your waist. 

“I read there was going to be a meteor shower tonight…thought you’d want to see it.” 

You shook your head in disbelief, tilting your head up to once again look at the glowing spectacle in the sky. All he could look at was you. He didn’t care about the stars, about the shower, about any of it. The only way he wanted to see it was reflected in your eyes. In your smile, somehow brighter than any supernova he could ever imagine. It’s real this time. He watched your lips move in silent words. Unspoken but palpable. 

“Did you make a wish?”

You look back to him now and smile shyly. Nodding slowly. 

“What’d you wish for?” 

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?” 

“You know why Eris.” 

He pursed his lips, “I never thought of you as superstitious.” 

“I just don’t want anything to stop it from coming true.” You admit. Quietly and quickly. 

Eris brought a hand to rest on your cheek. Brushing his thumb back and forth. He tilted his head slightly and looked to you for any sign of second thought, before leaning forwards and kissing you. Slowly and gently. Like he’d never done it before. Like he was exploring new territories. And he was a little. It’s real this time. 

★ ★ ★

“You killed my plants!” 

You exclaimed as you entered Eris’ apartment. The plants you had gifted him, sitting wilted on the window sill. He kicked off his shoes as the door clicked shut behind him. He shook his head and raised his hands in defense, 

“I mean technically you killed them” 

You swiveled, hands on your hips, indignance etched across your features, “Excuse me?” 

He tried to fight the laughter bubbling in his throat at the sight of you, “I mean you knew I wasn’t going to water them, and you left them here.” 

You slapped his shoulder as you pushed past him towards the kitchen. Rifling through the cabinets for a glass to fill with water. He watched you from the doorway. Moving about his kitchen like you had never left it. Weaving through his living room towards the dying plants like you had traced that path everyday. You watered them carefully, standing in front of them staring, as if waiting for them to spring back to life. 

“I think they’re goners love” 

“Shut up Eris.” 

That domestic annoyance in your tone. Something he hadn’t heard in weeks. Something he relished in. Your shoulders slumped as you realized he might be right. Turning to him now. Suddenly awkward. No task. Nothing to really  busy yourself with. Just you and him. Standing in his living room. A couple feet between you. And for the first time, you didn’t know what to do. Before it had been so easy. You come to his apartment. You hook up. You act like you’re not in love with him. You push everything down. You leave. You do it again. 

But now? 

He watches as you start to fiddle with the sleeve of your sweater. Your feet moving slightly from side to side. Avoiding his gaze. As if the heat of it might burn its way through your every defense. 

“You want a waffle?” 

“What?” Your tone genuinely surprised. Like you didn’t know what he was going to say, but you were certainly not expecting that. 

He shrugged, “I have the frozen waffles you like…you want one?” 

You smile and nod. Wondering if he had bought them just for today or if they were still there from the last time you had been there. 

You sat at his kitchen counter. Watching his back as he moved around the kitchen. Eyes meeting his as he finally turned and set a plate down in front of you. A waffle with peanut butter and honey sitting on your favorite plate. A little blue one with flowers painted along the rim. The plate he had stolen from his mother’s china cabinet before he moved out. 

And so you sat. Side by side at the kitchen counter. Passing the plate back and forth in comfortable silence. Familiarity seeping back into your movements. Refiguring. Learning to move with each other again. Easing yourselves into the warmth of each other's company. No secrets. No sneaking around. 

Finally Eris broke the silence, 

“So what was your wish?” 

You didn’t look at him. Opting instead to push the now empty plate around the countertop. Timidly you spoke, 

“Just you.” 

“Just me?” 

You met his eyes now. Earnest and raw. 

“Just you.” 

He extended an arm to rest across the back of your chair and smiled, 

“You scared?” 

His question was quiet, your response quieter, 

“Aren’t we all?” 

“I’m not” 

It was the truth. For the first time in his life. Eris Vanserra was looking love directly in the eye and the only thing he wanted was to get closer to it.

taglist:

@tiredsleepyhead @rosewood-cafe @kristijenner19 @becstersworld @girlwhoreadseverywhere @iambored24601

@the-sylver-dragon @scarsandallaz @fairydustblossom 

@theflowerswillbloom 

@theflowerswillbloom @melsunshine @mad-katsuki @lilylilyyyyyy @blueeeeeshark

@redr0sewrites

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@tolietpaperwater

@acourtofbatboydreams

@d3ad-ins1de

@kianna-s  @julesvanslutta @sourapplex

[sunderwight]

Not to theorize on Arcane with only three episodes left to go or anything, but I do think that there's a reason why the scenes we get of Viktor where he's actually acting like his old self, with Sky also acting reasonably human, are in some kind of theater of the mind/magical space/etc, rather than just Viktor in-person talking to Hallucination Sky in his shimmer dome or something.

Like, think about it. The first few scenes we have of Viktor post-cocoon, he sees Sky as a hallucination in physical reality, and it's disjointed and an obvious sign that something has gone Wrong. It's creepy, and weird. He's got one foot in physical reality and one somewhere else (and it's styled very differently from Jinx's hallucinations, too, which handily indicates that this is not the same sort of thing).

But then, after Jayce returns and we see that Viktor has established his cult, his personality seems to be entirely contained within this otherworldly space. He can perceive reality, but it's no longer overlapping. He has become somewhat quarantined from himself, with Sky there as well, acting way more like "herself" than she did as a hallucination before but also essentially chaperoning Viktor's consciousness. Like a golden retriever put in with a zoo cheetah to keep it calm.

What's interesting is that, internal Viktor is pretty much the usual Viktor he's been since S1, more or less. Like, that's definitely Viktor, who worries about Jayce and focuses on complex problems and wants to help people. But in-person Viktor is weirder. He's not a completely different guy by any means, but he doesn't emote the way that the internal Viktor does, and he says more weird shit in weird tones. Based on the decisions he ultimately makes, I think the internal Viktor is still calling the shots -- but I also think that he's increasingly on his way out.

He's been disconnected from his own physical reality by several degrees, observing it more than interacting with it. And though he sees that there's another influence on Jayce, there are heavy hints (such as Sky appearing right when he says that) that he's in the same boat. But because the process is happening gradually, and is happening within him, he can't recognize it. Every time he tries to, he is presented with a new distraction, or discussion, or there is a reassuring concession that seems to validate that he's still in control. Plus it's probably just difficult to perceive because it does seem to be basing a lot of its outlook on things off of his own. How do you discern the "wrongness" in something when it's the same flavor of wrong that you yourself tend to be?

It's difficult from the outside to definitively say whether this is just Viktor undergoing some funky character development, or if Viktor's another victim of something else. Maybe Viktor's just sequestering his own humanity a bit? Maybe it's all just intended to depict how he navigates through magical energy?

But I think another big indication that it's not just Viktor, is Salo. When Jayce comes back and asks if Salo's still in there after Viktor talks through him, Salo just calmly reasserts himself, and acts as if the idea that he's being forcefully subjugated is absurd. He's not being attacked or imprisoned, he's just engaged in a willing partnership with a benevolent power. If we didn't know what he was like before, or if the old Salo had been a very calm and altruistic individual to being with, it might even be convincing. But the disconnect is way more obvious here because the character we met in past episodes is way further removed from the serene cultist we see Jayce smash with his big hammer. We know that even a grateful Salo is not the kind of person who is going to put on a beige tunic, forgo his many vices and fancy parties, and join a commune just to thank his benefactor. No matter how happy he was to have his legs back, it would only be because it got him his life back -- he wouldn't want to regain his mobility just to up and abandon that life.

Outwardly it would seem that the thing that has subverted Salo's will is Viktor. But if Viktor is also being gradually quarantined, if the same thing is happening to him, then that further implies that another will is at play. One that is disguising itself as Viktor, or if you will as an evolution of Viktor.

Okay and now to actually theorized I guess -- I think that this might be where Singed's assertions about Warwick/Vander being a necessary component of Viktor's evolution will come into play. Because Viktor himself is not going to sacrifice a man to achieve that, but whatever else is part of Viktor does want to evolve. And then it just so happens that Jayce comes out of nowhere, ostensibly being controlled or influenced by something else, and shoots Viktor dead. At which point it seems like the human part of Viktor goes out, and the Machine Evolution guy fully supplants him.

Yeah, I kind of think that Jayce did do a bad thing, but that the twist will be that when he touched the arcane, "Viktor" showed him a vision or gave him some kind of time travel-y experience that convinced him he had to go back and destroy him, so that Jayce would unwittingly kill the only thing holding it back before Viktor finished helping Vander, probably ran out of juice and died in the process, and quietly took this thing out with him. It would, unfortunately, be very on-brand for Jayce to take a decisive and violent action to try and prevent catastrophe, only to unintentionally make it worse. This show on the whole has stuck to the idea that shooting your big flashy magic weapon at a thing is a great way to make a complicated problem much much worse.

I'm not sure they'd break the pattern for this one.

[nakedwilbur]

He tried to act calm, hide his embarrassment, and just ignore the angry stares and shouting about getting dressed as he made his way across the none-nude beach in a desperate search for his friends. He had been sleeping in this morning and was supposed to meet up with the gang down on the beach. The only problem was his terrible sense of direction. Even if they were a week into their holiday, he had never done the short walk from the hotel to the beach on his own, and of course his first attempt to do so did not go well. It hadn’t taken long before he found himself in an unfamiliar back alley surrounded by a group of local boys that were smelling his fear and sensing an easy victim. He tried to play cool and casually ask them for directions to the beach, but when the boys asked for payments in return, and he tried to pay them off his cheap sunglasses the situation escalated quickly. They were definitely not impressed by the cheap bribe. Knives where quickly drawn, and when they weren’t happy with his old phone, full of scratches, either he suddenly found himself stripped to his bare skin and hiding his dick behind his hands as best he could. He had pleaded them to not leave there him naked, but they had just tossed him his sunglasses and pointed to the end of the alley telling him that the beach was down there.

Now he has been walking down the beach for nearly half an hour, too embarrassed and afraid to ask for help, but without any sign of his friends anywhere. Slowly it starts to dawn on him that his bad sense of direction has tricked him once again and he is walking in the wrong direction. So, not only will he have to walk back down the beach again, facing all the angry people once mor, but most probably his friends are all back at the hotel by now. And without any clothes, not to say without any sense of direction, he will have to walk into to town and try to find his way back to the hotel. All by himself. It is definitely starting to feel like one of those days that he should just have stayed in bed.

[chettyspagetti]

Camp Race Show Down (CRSD)

Lore at bottom

(Red?) Racekid is illegal racer and has been racing for a long time. Not the best but definitely not the worst. Keeps his cool most the time and pulls off a lot of stuns. He will either win by a smidge or be ran off by the cops and have incomplete race / loose. Always finds a way out of whatever pickle he’s in and has funny quip about it. He’s willing to do anything for thrill of the ride, and frequently doesn’t think before he does something. Mainly just doing it because he belives in himself.

Neeancy is flag girl / with Racekid as not a racer but as more of moral support / love interest (??) She is in the car when he races and is back seat driver but she sits in the front. Shes the brains of the operation and keeps him from killing himself. She doesn’t race at all but is there to help with plans and strategy since she’s still really smart and can calculate like the air and shit and how it drags. She can get kinda crazy but Racekid likes crazy so it’s okay , she tells him off when he looses or does something stupid in the race and he just nods because he knows she’s right

Mad Max , sponsor/manager for Nikki . Schemes their way into races and does shit under the table. Wears a nice outfit and tells Nikki to “do what she does best”. Is a Bookie, makes bets on races but will make it in his favor . Has a watch and a bunch of different ids on him.

(Panther) Nikki is a reckless driver , hitting cars with hers and grinding them on walls. Has no fear with racing and having a fun time doing it. Gets hurt and acts like a wounded dog when hurt . Car frequently has to be repaired and it’s a pain in Maxs ass to fix

( Erode )Ered is cool racer who has a low rider with lots of mods. Purplely/pink with yellow accents. It can glow with led lights and shit. Very chill with her riding and doesn’t try to hurt the racers, not out of kindness it just doesn’t benefit her like Nikki. Top dawg with racing and wins against Racekid but there’s no bad blood between them. More of “you did good, maybe you’ll be a good as me one day :p” and she drives off. Plays music while she races .

Sasha races and is sponsor of Erin and Tabii. Will pay people to ruin the race for others and purposely sabotaged people. Has very nice car , not fully made for racing but it’s still really good. Does similar things to max but both don’t like each other because they are “different “ with the way they do it. She wears a helmet and it has a visor on it to keep her safe. Bought all the tokens and has a lot more then everyone else.

Erin is a slower driver then Tabii is, being more calculated and less or a risk taker. She has a dark blue car and focus more on accuracy and consistency then speed. Tabii can get bad road rage and if she looses she’ll be extra nasty next race or even after . Tabiis car is more angular and has white stripes. Sasha is hard on both of them if they loose and are lowkey scared of her.

Dolph is sketch artist and makes posters for the event. You can see them in dark parts of town with the list of racers on them. Anyone can sign up. Hes also been asked by the police to sketch who he though did it but just fucks with them cus snitches get stiches (sketched max as Barack Obama) (Rouge Racer) (Rou)

Harrison owns a “bar” that many kids reside/hang out in to drink juice / caprimoons/ whatever like a normal dingy bar. He looks like a normal bar tender and does this instead of racing. He helped his brother get into illegal racing but got caught by Gwen and David, and got sent home. (And to a boarding school) he doesn’t mess with that kind of stuff anymore but still needed to make a living.

Everyone else bets on the races , they also bet with Max cus he has higher risk/ higher reward . It isn’t legal but none of this is

Instead of getting money for winning races they get arcade tokens to “Charles Pizza Family diner” A family owned restaurant with Charles the Hamster and his gang as the mascots. They like it and that’s all it matters.

[remiivu]

Ghostly Companion- Extra 1 [Mr. Gachapon]

Masterlist

[Ao3]

Tysm for waiting! Chapter 3 is coming out in a few hours^^

Honestly, a part of your brain regrets ever having shown Mr. Crawling the collections of capsule machines that appear outside of high-traffic buildings. 

It took quite a while to be able to understand his insistent, constant begs of “∎∎∎∎! Me want ∎∎∎∎!” But, after many charades, you’ve come to learn that it was… something like object. The word’s meaning itself was vague, as you’ve heard him use it on nearly every item in your household, but the particular tone he used as he pointed and jabbed a long, gray finger at your matching keychains was something you began to think was whining.

That was strange. You’ve always viewed your ghost as an obedient, mild type of person who seemed happy enough to just follow you around, but maybe the dragging, repetitive actions that came with daily mortal life had its way of making even the undead want a change in pace. 

Which… yeah. That honestly makes sense. While the other world had a definite amount of hallways, there was probably always something to break the boredom– like maybe a new person falling into the world just as you did, or a fight, or just generally fearing for your life as you navigated where the dangerous ghosts were.

Yeah, ok. You could feel the guilt already creeping up on you.

“Ok, ok, you want keychain?” You sigh, bent down to be at eye level with Mr. Crawling.

Mr. Crawling brightened up, grin stretched from ear to ear. “Yes! Me want object!”

Well, that was that.

The trip was done at dawn, similar to the first simply because of how empty the streets were. You’ve had some sort of confirmation that he’s either unsee-able for most people or hard to notice in general (with the exception of young kids that bawl the second their eyes catch a glimpse of the two of you.) Thankfully, they were kids, and adults rarely took supernatural claims from them seriously.

And if they did…

Well, you weren’t quite sure what you would do. Something unusual itches in your chest at the thought, and the one thing you’re certain about is the fact that you treasure your new companion far more than a stranger or their child.

You absolutely will not lose him by some sort of random exorcism performed by someone who had no right of getting near you or your home.

Mr. Crawling, oblivious to your inner monologue, was somewhat giddy as he personally led the way towards the familiar capsule machines you two had passed a few days ago. He checked back, pausing and twisting his neck to ensure you were following, but you were always there, 2 steps behind with a pleasant smile.

As you got closer, you saw that your suspicions from earlier were confirmed. You weren’t aware of the strength Mr. Crawling had, but the original food-themed capsule machine was broken, blocked off with some tape and a paper explaining its current state.

Mr. Crawling paused at the sight, peeling and picking as the tape.

“Object… damaged,” You say, pointing at the sign. “Broken. It’s broken.”

Mr. Crawling’s smile dropped into a frown. “Damaged? ∎∎∎?”

You shrug, not wanting to dampen his mood by saying it was him who broke it. You noticed that he’s rather… paranoid of harming things in this world. Your plates, chopsticks, spoons– even the sturdier objects like your floor table or sink (which, now that you’re thinking about it, having a broken sink is definitely a possibility judging by the state of the capsule machine’s handle) are treated with a sense of fragility you hadn’t noticed he ever used in his own world. 

Well, apart from yourself. You were top of the list, and you’re certainly glad about that. You’re not as easily fixable nor replaceable, and you better be further up on his list of importance than any household objects he had taken a liking to.

You watched as he peered at the other options, going through each of the machines before he looked up to you like some sort of lost puppy.

You didn’t even need to understand his next words to know that he wanted your opinion.

You crouch down, examining each one yourself before your eyes settle on one themed after cats. You pointed at it and said, “Cute,” knowing that this single word was enough to sway him.

He bounced up, looking at it with a smile. “Me can ∎∎∎?” 

You nod, fishing out your freshly filled coin pouch, already prepared for this scenario. You hand him a decent amount of coins, watching as he inserted the coins and twisted the nobs much more gently, far more used to using less strength in this world compared to a few days ago.

One by one, you watch him drain the coins and pop open capsules, not looking entirely content with each cat chain he pulls out.

What in the world was he doing?

White, calico, black, tuxedo– he was getting nearly every color, even some duplicates, steadily supplied with coins from your uncertain hand and trembling coin pouch.

You had withdrawn 2,000 yen worth of coins so that he could either grab a decent selection or find some new machines to save for the next trip– not for his brand new and… not well received new cat chain collection. 

“Mr. Crawling, why– you.. Ugh, how do I say ‘why’ in your language…” You muttered, watching him nearly empty the capsule machine, arms filled with empty capsules.

Eventually, though, his smile pops back to life as he cracked open a container and pulled out the rarer, limited edition chain of a sparkly siamese cat. He holds it up, grinning, “Cute! Cute much!”

Your jaw drops. What the– did you accidentally invoke some sort of gambling of collecting addiction in him? He was so happy the last time with just getting whatever!

“You– you..” You say, unsure of how to express whatever cluster-fuck of emotions you were currently feeling.

“Me give object you!” He cheered, pressing the -now very expensive- chain into a spare finger that wasn’t holding on to empty capsules.

“I–...” You stuttered, gripping onto it the best you could before it could fall. “Why?!” You ask, hoping that the way that you gawked or had your mouth open, flabbergasted, would convey the meaning to him effectively.

And, the smart, smart Mr. Crawling that he is did end up understanding, saying with glee “You speak cute! This object cute!”

Did you?! You most certainly did not– you had simply…

Oh.

You watched him poke at the machine, right over the limited edition cat, and presumably right where you had pointed your finger at before you declared it to be cute. 

Shit. This was your fault.

Mr. Crawling looked as sweet as ever, collecting his mini pile of cat chains and packing them all into his mouth, one by one.

You sighed, dumping all the empty capsules and plastic wraps into the recycling bin right next to the machines as you waited for him to finish stuffing his cheeks like some sort of chipmunk or squirrel. 

You were about to offer to carry it for him but…

Yeah, no. Not anymore. He has it covered now.

You kept your own chain out, wrapping and twirling it around your fingers until he looked ready to go, and began your hike back to your apartment, briefly wondering if ghosts showed up on cameras or if the flashing light would scare him into either breaking, dropping, or swallowing his brand new collection.

With how light your coin pouch felt, you decided it wasn’t worth it. 

______________________________

Once home, you quickly gave the new chains a wash in the sink, laying them all out on the towel before presenting it back to Mr. Crawling, who took much enjoyment in the next hours arranging them in various, close to the ground nooks and crannies, making sure each was visible from the open.

When you walk out from the shower, freshened up and back to normal brain-function, you blankly stared at the 20-something chains in your field of vision, cluttering shoe racks and bottom shelves, and Mr. Crawling looking proud as he chirped “Hello!” and swiftly crawled over to wrap your glittering chain around your wrist, holding it in place. 

… Well, it was a good thing you never invited your friends over.

Masterlist

[Ao3]

Thank again everyone! Hoped you enjoyed (and saw the slight twist in moods^^)!

[cherubcameron]

Love Espresso

Chapter two: welcome back to Kildare island

Synopsis: after her breakup with Rafe and him kicking her out. Her best friend offers her a new job and a place to stay. But when Rafe comes back from Morocco. He realizes he’d made a grave mistake. Will Sofia go back to him? Or will she decide that her new life means more to her than him?

Sofia was placing books by their respective shelves. She stared down at one that read “how to win his heart back,” then immediately shoving it back into one of the shelves. Even when she tried to not think of Rafe. Signs of him were everywhere. Like he was cursing her for what she did to him. And she couldn’t blame him for being angry. She would have been too. If it were her.

“Sofia! Do you know where I left the bookmarks?!” Liliana yelled. Sofia attention deviated from the books.

“Yeah! It’s in the back. Next to the printer!” Sofia yelled, she came out of the shelves. Finally finished with her tasks. Wheeling out the book cart with her, to place in the back.

“Okay, found them! Can you please start the coffee machine?!” Liliana yelled again, now in the back.

“Got it!” Sofia yells back, walking swiftly towards the coffee machine. She was glad that Liliana taught her how to use it properly. She knew how to make drinks thanks to the country club. So it wasn’t much different from that. She began to set it up, allowing the coffee machine to heat up.

She began to make sure that she had enough coffee beans, making sure it was cleaned, and making sure things were working smoothly. Before letting the machine do its thing on its own. It was ready for its first batch of coffee.

Liliana came out from the back finally. Carrying the box filled with bookmarks. A big grin on her face.

“I made these myself.” She said proudly, showcasing them to Sofia. Sofia looked at each other, her eyes roaming through them.

“Those are so pretty.” She said in awe. “You’ll definitely stand out with those. They’re not like the typical ones you see at the bookstores. It looks like you took some time with them.”

Liliana blushed, “It just took me three days to finalize. Oh! Also Hector is coming to help us with the shop. He’s going to be making all the little pastries.” She waved Sofia’s comment away. But Sofia could tell it meant a lot. Liliana loved anything creative. It made perfect sense that she made the bookmarks herself.

Sofia looked at her agaped, “Hector? Seriously? How?”

“I’m good at finding what makes people heart sing.” Liliana said, her eyes closing as she smiled. Sofia gave her an incredulous look.

When Liliana finally opened her eyes, she spotted the look Sofia gave her. Her smile dropping replaced with a scowl.

“He likes to bake. I helped him discover his dreams and to chase them.” Sofia raises an eyebrow at her, Liliana face drops once more.

“Rude. Anyway, he’s going to help us on that front. You and I can switch between doing the register and the floor. I’m still trying to hire more people.” Liliana explains, looking around. “They do say it takes a village.”

Sofia smiled up at her friend, she couldn’t help the way her heart swelled. She was so proud of her friend. Happy that she got to experience this with her.

Liliana goes to squeeze Sofias hand. “Thank you so much for helping me. I wouldn’t have done this without you.”

“Same here.” The words hold more weight, she hopes Liliana understands how much everything she’s done means to Sofia. She can only squeeze her hand back.

Rafe stared up at his house, apart of him hopeful. Maybe she hadn’t left. She hadn’t run off, this whole situation was messy. He hated not having the chance to talk to her. He wished he hadn’t let his anger get the best of him. She still betrayed him, so why did he feel like shit about it?

Once he managed to get himself to walk inside. He walked in slowly, trying to see if he could hear any noise. He didn’t hear any movements. He began to walk in quicker to the kitchen. He took a harsh intake of breath.

There lay the ring.

So she hadn’t taken it. She hadn’t left with it, to pawn it. She’d let him go, just like that. He didn’t know why he felt so upset. He’d told her to pack up her shit and leave. Of course, she listened. It was Sofia.

Rafe ran a hand through his buzz cut. This is not what he had anticipated. And now he had to admit to himself that he wished she had fought for their relationship.

“Hey Rafe?” Sarah says coming into the kitchen. She stops once she sees what he’s looking at. “That’s mom’s ring.”

Rafe nods, his eyes glued to it. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Sofia had just left it.

“You gave her mom’s ring?” Sarah asked, in shock. Rafe doesn’t speak at first, the regret building a home in his heart. Why didn’t he hear her out? He never found out the reason why Sofia did it.

“Rafe—

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay.” Rafe says quickly. He doesn’t want to be around anyone at the moment. He wants to be alone. This was all too much. He sees how spotless the house looks. Like Sofia had never even step foot in here since he’d proposed. Since he… broke up with her over the phone.

Sarah looks at him, but doesn’t say anything more. Rafe can feel her eyes on him and he tries to keep his face neutral. But he can’t help but let a scowl appear on his face.

“Rafe, she obviously meant a lot to you.” Sarah whispers. Rafe stares only at the ring. Tears start to film in his eyes and he wants to be alone. But doesn’t know how to say it gently. So he just shrugs.

“She betrayed me. Why am I the one who has to feel like shit for breaking up with her?” He asks bitterly, his voice is hoarse.

Sarah puts her head on his arm. A gesture that was very foreign for the Cameron siblings. But things had changed.

“You still loved her Rafe. That doesn’t change how you felt.”

Rafe finally managed to walk towards the kitchen counter. Picking up the ring in his hands. Letting the light glint against the diamond.

Sofia met up with Catalina. She still worked at the country club and she’d just gotten out of her shift for the day. Catalina took one good look at her and smiled.

“Mi amiguis!” Catalina squealed running towards Sofia. Sofia laughed, as Catalina wrapped her arms around Sofia. Sofia returning the hug.

“Hey cutie.” Sofia looked towards the country club. Seeing it again stirred emotions she didn’t think it would. Her smiles falters for a second before she turns her attention back to Catalina.

Catalina can see the conflicting look on sofias face. She sighs.

“He’s back.” She simply says, Sofia hearts drops.

“Oh.” She wasn’t expecting Catalina to tell her that. She lets a fake smile appear on her face.

“Good-good for him.”

“Sofia. I know you’re not happy about it.” Catalina says, unfortunately her friends could read her like a book. A quality that she both admired and hated at the same time.

“It’s fine. It’s— fine.” Sofia lies, she’s not ready. She can feel her heart sink. She doesn’t know how she’ll face him. She’s glad at least she’s no longer apart of the country club. She doesn’t have to deal with Rafe and his kook friends. Sofia lets out a sigh.

“Let’s go, okay. I’m hungry.” Sofia is glad that Catalina changes the subject. Sofia nods and takes Catalina to her car.

Song Sofia is listening to on her playlist

[lord-squiggletits]

"To Children Ardent For Some Desperate Glory": A War Story Reading of Tarn's Death

From a narrative perspective, Tarn's death in this scene as a long-running antagonist of MTMTE is extremely cathartic in that, because he's evil, his death is satisfying: the dramatic irony of how Tarn was made by Megatron and now is unmade, that he trapped himself in the means of his own death, and, most importantly for this meta post, that he talked a big game about being willing to die as a Decepticon, only to falter and panic once the moment of his death was actually upon him. As a reader, there's a sort of vindication that you get from seeing Tarn, a supposed zealot, suddenly too cowardly to die for his own ideals, and so Tarn's death is satisfying to read under this judgement of his cowardice.

Cowardice? Perhaps not. Although it's definitely valid to read Tarn's panic here as the last of many signs of hypocrisy he's demonstrated throughout MTMTE, the tragedy of his death comes when you read this scene from the lens of the war story genre: That is to say, I read Tarn's fear in the face of death not as a demonstration of cowardice/hypocrisy, but as the moment that, for him personally, "the old lie: Dulce et decorum est / Pro patria mori" was finally pulled from his eyes (literally, as the mask Tarn used to hide himself was ripped off by Megatron to expose his fear) and he realized that it was not, in fact, worth it to rush headlong into his own death for the sake of ideology. The Old Lie that it's glorious to die for one's ideals protected Tarn for that one moment of him declaring "At least I'll die a Decepticon," offering him that comfort/delusion that his death would have meaning... then, of course, having that ripped away as Megatron informs him, "Everything you did was for nothing."

Bringing this quote forth from War Is A Force That Gives Us Meaning by Chris Hedges:

And like every recovering addict there is a part of me that remains nostalgic for war's simplicity and high, even as I cope with the scars it has left behind, mourn the deaths of those I worked with, and struggle with the bestiality I would have been better off not witnessing. There is a part of me-- maybe it is a part of many of us-- that decided at certain moments that I would rather die like this than go back to the routine of life. The chance to exist for an intense and overpowering moment, even if it meant certain oblivion, seemed worth it in the midst of war and very stupid once the war ended.

Tarn's choice to pursue revenge against Megatron was his "intense and overpowering moment" that won over choosing to retreat like Nickel and Deathsaurus did, as they, unlike him, realized that throwing away soldiers' lives in a grinder for the sake of a useless grudge was the wrong thing to do; they went "back to the routine of life" and failed to be claimed by The Old Lie.

Another interesting part of WIAF is that, throughout the book, Hedges makes comparisons between the illusions of power, meaning, and righteousness that war brings and drugs/narcotics/addiction, which brings to mind that Tarn is actually canonically an addict of multiple substances, meaning that the "drug of war" is both literal and metaphorical in his case.

So, when recognizing that Tarn was peddled The Old Lie not just as one of many generic soldiers in a lifelong war, but as a target for brainwashing Megatron personally singled out, it becomes impossible to view his death simply as a karmic death for a hypocritical jerk. The idea that Tarn is a coward for not being able to "die as a Decepticon" being brave and unafraid relies on the assumption that dying in battle for a Cause that doesn't care about you is a demonstration of bravery and sacrifice rather than a pointless destruction of life in service of propaganda.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in [...] My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

I would argue that the fact that Tarn was drawn so heavily into Decepticonism (and indeed, a smaller cult-- the DJD-- based on worship of Megatron himself) that he would choose to fight, kill, and die in a crusade of revenge against people who wronged his Cause (Megatron) is not a fault of his moral character, but rather a tragedy of his conversion into a rather common lie of war, exemplified by the poem above: It's all well and good to talk about how awesome a glorious death in battle is until you're the one dying and witnessing other people around you dying. In my mind, it's not cowardice or hypocrisy that made Tarn terrified of "dying a Decepticon": it is, and has always been, a moral fact that life is greater than death and that choosing to live in peace is better than fighting a perpetual war. His terror came from the fact that the veil-- or rather, the mask-- convincing him otherwise was ripped away from him. He did not experience a fall from principled morality into hypocritical cowardice: he experienced a revelation from propagandistic lies to hard, tragic reality.

To those who swallow the nationalist myth, life is transformed.... They can abandon even self-preservation in the desire to see themselves as players in a momentous historical drama. This vision is accepted even at the expense of self-annihilation.

Tarn's story basically follows the formula of the war story genre near-perfectly: The beginning of his life as an otherwise ordinary person (Damus/Glitch), his fall into a militant group as part of a desire for meaning and battle against an oppressor, his committing and excusing of heinous acts in the name of that false meaning-- and finally, his inability to detach from The Old Lie and the subsequent terror and futility he faced upon dying for the sake of that Lie.

All this to say that, as vindicating and fun as Tarn's death is from a pure entertainment/satisfaction perspective, I do like to look at this scene and remind myself that it's not cowardice to be afraid of dying, especially to be afraid of dying for no reason and in the service of an ideology (and in Tarn's case, person) that does not and never did care about you.

[brotherwtf]

Age gap AU - 35 to hear the other's heartbeat

oh man age gap au softness I fear it's inevitable guys

actually you know what give me John who's just absolutely going through it, PTSD and nightmares coming back with a vengeance, only this time he dreams of Gale in the cockpit with him, subconsciously he knows it's not possible, he was only three years old when John first went to war, but his brain decided to supply the horrible image of Gale being shot down, Gale bleeding out in his arms and it's been happening every night and he wakes up panting and almost shouting, turning to see if he's accidentally woken Gale and to make sure he's okay

the first couple of times he doesn't wake Gale up, but on the third night he wakes up thrashing and screaming and that definitely wakes Gale up, he wakes with a start and immediately goes to hold John, shushes him and tells him it's going to be alright, tells him it's okay and that he's safe, he's okay

and John hates how comforting Gale's fretting is because it means he's alive, and he's panting and sweating and trying to calm down but he just can't, his heart is pounding a mile a minute and he can't quite stop trembling so he shakily asks "can you hold me?"

and of course Gale immediately nods, opening his arms for John to crawl into, pressing his ear to Gale's chest where he can hear the soft pounding of his heart, a sure sign that he was alive and not bleeding out in front of him, Gales arms around his shoulders while he just talks, runs his fingers through John's hair as he tells him about his classes and a funny thing his professor said, told him about the antics that Marge was getting up to, and John can feel himself getting brought back to the present in Gale's arms, and it's one of the calmest and comforting things he has ever experienced

John eventually goes back to sleep on Gale's chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and actually slept through the rest of the night, his mind not clouded with nightmares