#this isn't shade or meant to be mean or anything this is really just me being frustrated with m*shka !!

[bonnie-the-butcher]

Rip Tide | Chapter III

[ MDNI ] [ word count: 6.810 ] [ Masterlist ] 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Canonverse/Canon-Divergent; Dark! Content; NSFW; Strong Language; Cheating; Drug Use; Mentions of overdose; Some shades of Munchausen syndrome from dear old Rafe; Manipulation; Toxic, obsessive behaviour; Stalking; Violence; DUBCON/NONCON; My writing is really pretentious and English is not my first language, so please feel free to call me out in whichever grammar mistakes you might find find.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You and JJ have always been in each other's orbit. He's your brother’s best friend, the guy you've known your entire life. He was kind, protective, familiar. You never meant for the two of you to start hooking up. And you never meant for it to last so long. But when this boy you thought you'd come to know like the back of your hand turns out to be no better than the men he'd warned you about, you find yourself in the sights of the guy he hates most, regardless of wether you want that or not.

I refuse to let the fanfics in this app gaslight me into forgetting just how pathetic Rafe was in the show. Like just because a man is dangerous and unhinged doesn't mean that he isn't some needy little dumbass that begs 24/7. Likes, asks, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank you in advance for reading <3

Rafe tries to cover up a painful groan, mumbling something unintelligible as you carry him up the stairs. He’s draped entirely over you, half his weight weighing you down as you tiptoe over the steep steps, hoping that your slow pace comes off as caution rather than as struggle.

You are struggling, though.

Struggling to figure out why you got yourself into this mess in the first place.

It's way past ten. The night outside is as dark as anything, the wind howling wildly against the heavy windows of Rafe’s house. But you’re not at home, with a belly full of nothing, sleeping to try and distract from the hunger as your brother’s friends play around outside, their laughter lulling you. You’re carrying a stranger up the stairs of his house, praying that his parents don’t catch you.

Rafe’s arm is tightly wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing your side to his chest. His other arm, once resting carelessly over the handrail, is now crossed over your body, resting in the dip of your waist.

He fists the fabric of your top as he tumbles, a gasp catching in his throat the second you grab him, pulling him upright before he can fall onto the stairs.

A drunken giggle falls from his lips. – Oops. – He’s grinning. You can feel him looking at you, but your eyes drift down the railing, peeking at the distant ground beneath.

It’s a wonder to you that no one has died falling down these stairs.

You press his arm tighter around your shoulder.

Reaching the solid ground of the second floor almost feels like a conquest, but you look forward only to be met with a multitude of doors, all of them painted white, with nothing to tell you who each room belonged to. – Which one is your room, Rafe? Where do you sleep? – He groans, looking around in confusion, as if he didn’t recognize his own home, then he stops and looks at you for a moment, giggling. – Rafe. – You adjust his weight, your back aches from dragging him around everywhere. He must be as exhausted as you are. – I’m serious. Aren’t you tired? Don’t you wanna go to bed?

He seems amused by the question.

– You wanna– You— He laughs loud enough that you have to shush him, but he’s still chuckling with his mouth against your lips. – Sorry. You… You wanna go to bed with me? That was quick.

– Oh, I bet it was.

His smile twists into a frown, brows knitting together. – What’s that– Hey, watch out! Careful.— What’s that supposed to mean? – You’re the one laughing now, but you reach for the first door, and Rafe stops you. – That’s, uhm, that’s Sarah’s room.

– Oh.

– I don’t wanna see Sarah. I don’t. – His voice is heavier than it was before, and you can see his eyes struggling to keep open even as he tries to rub the exhaustion away.

– It’s okay. We’re not gonna see Sarah right now. We’re gonna put you to bed. Your bed, preferably.

Rafe’s laughter has fully died down now. You keep wandering down the hall, opening doors and finding guest rooms, and bathrooms and offices, already resigned to the fact that you aren’t getting any help from him.

– Are you gonna sleep with me? – He asks suddenly, looking at you as if it was a serious matter.

– No, Rafe. You’re the one who’s gonna be sleeping. – You sneak a glance at your watch. 10:46. John’s probably freaking out. You reach for another door, this one closer to the end of the hallway, right beside the double doors you assume belong to his father. – What about this one?

– That’s Wheezie. Wheezie’s room. Why— Why won’t you sleep with me? – He’s ridiculous. You laugh before you can help yourself. There’s a childishness to the way he asks such an absurd question, his voice is so small, his eyes are so big, his lips remain open even after he stops talking. Like a kid asking his babysitter if she can stay for christmas. You don’t answer, still laughing to yourself, because you don’t know what to say.

– What about this one?

– What’s so funny? – He’s not smiling anymore.

– Nothing. Nothing’s funny, Rafe. You have to sleep. Is this your room?

– Guest room.

– Jesus Christ. Which one is yours?

– Are you gonna sleep with me? – He’s trying to stand in front of you and look you in the eye, but he can’t even stand on his own feet, you have to steady him.

It’s better to let drunk people think they’re in control than to anger them by denying. You’ve learned your lesson way back when. So you just tilt your head and bat your eyes at Rafe, trying not to smile too condescendingly. – Is that what you want me to do? – He nods, inching closer, his hands reaching for you. – Sure, then. I will. Where’s your room?

– Kiss me.

– Where’s your room, Rafe?

– Kiss me first. – You roll your eyes at him, though he’s already draped over you again, his eyes, still blown out despite the charcoal purge, staring at your lips. In the darkness that surrounds you, you only see the outline of his expressions: his crooked smile, his parted lips, the gleam that catches his eyes, reflecting something foreign, that you can’t quite read, as he leans into you expectantly. Your lips catch the corner of his mouth, his breath hitches, and he turns to try and deepen that little peck, like a starved man savoring the crumbs before getting to the main dish.

There’s a pleasure that comes from crushing his expectations, though you know it isn't healthy to feel like that. You remain there, your lips against his, for only a split second before you pull away.

You try to move towards the next door, but he’s quicker than you are.

Before you can take another step, Rafe hooks an arm around your waist and yanks you backward. The motion is sudden, but it isn’t ffortless, your back pressing against his chest just as his own crashes into the wall behind him.

You dodge his lips before he can kiss you, and his mouth remains there, against your cheek, brushing upwards to rest against your temples when you exclaim in a hush: – Are you trying to wake the entire house?!

– It wouldn’t have made any noise if you’d kissed me, like you promised. – He bemoans in a whisper.

– I did. – You want to laugh, but you keep your face still, though you smile despite yourself.

Rafe scoffs, still holding you against him. – Y’know, Barry was right. You are a tease.

Just like that, your playful mood vanishes.

You stare at him for a couple seconds, unsure of what he meant by that.

You try to tell yourself that Barry would never say something like that about you, especially while you’re not around, but a little part of you crawls with doubt.

You’re frozen at that moment. He’s watching you, waiting, head tilted, blue eyes gleaming. You want to ask, but you’re not sure you’ll like the answer.

You exhale through your nose and push forward, trying to shake off the feeling like water from your skin. – You’re really high, huh? – You take a step back, but he moves with you, much steadier than someone as inebriated as he is should be.

– Look at me. – He whispers, his voice is soft, but you know he isn’t asking.

Rafe leans in a little too close as you step back, his breath warm on your cheek, his hand now hovering over your waist. His fingers twitch, as if he’s fighting an urge, trying to figure out what part of you to dig in first.

– Look at me. – He whispers again, the command almost too soft to be one. His eyes never leave you, he drinks you in, you can feel his gaze going through every inch of you, his hands struggling to keep in place.

You pull away, eyes darting to the door behind you.

– Rafe. – It’s not a warning, you don’t know what it is. But Rafe doesn’t even seem to hear it. There’s something more in the way he watches you now, a flicker of something far too intense.

– Look at me. – He repeats. It sounds like a plea, the way he barely murmurs it, his body swaying, almost as if magnetized to you. His hand, once hovering, brushes the inside of your arm as he reaches for your waist, then starts climbing upwards. – You promised. – he whispers, lips curling slightly as he presses into you, his touch lingering in places you didn’t think it would go.

It’s as if he's testing the boundaries, seeing how much you’ll let him get away with. How much you will allow.

Your heart skips a beat, almost frozen within you.

You try and focus on the task at hand. You shift your weight slightly, ready to play the part— to let it slide for just long enough to get him into bed, to make sure he’s safe.

To make sure you're safe.

– Where’s your room, Rafe? – You push the question out like it’s any other, because you refuse to let yet another person play with you like that.

You didn’t learn from the mistakes of the other girls JJ tossed aside. So you had to learn from your own mistakes.

Rafe wants you to give him something, something deeper than compliance or defiance, something he can bite into.

You won't.

You're not a doll, hanging on the wall, he can just grab at and play with until he tires himself out. You're not a toy.

You cared about JJ. You don't care about Rafe. You tell yourself that again as you look up at him, waiting.

He doesn’t answer immediately. He just steps closer, his eyes darting to your lips, to the space between you that’s suddenly more charged than it should be. – You’re eager, huh? D’you want me?

His lips glisten as he whispers the question. You can’t tell where he’s looking at anymore. Rafe’s eyes drift everywhere your skin shows, and though his hand still lingers, pressed against your ribcage, just beside your chest, where the top covers you, he seems to delight in the naked warmth of your inner arm, brushing against the back of his hand.

– I want you to go to bed.

– So you can tuck me in? – His thumb draws patterns beneath your chest, gaze shifting between your lips and your neck, almost in reverence.

– I can do that.

– Only if you kiss me first.

His words hang in the air between you.

You know he won't give this up.

He'll be calmer if you give him what he wants. Maybe this will help you, but you have to play your cards right. So you tilt your head, and you smile.

There's something different in the way he looks at you now. All of that edge melting into desperation as he watches you, expectant, frozen in place.

Your hand lifts, slow and deliberate, brushing against the side of his neck. The tips of your fingers trace his jawline as he lets it hang open, breathing heavily, eyes lidded, waiting for your move. Your touch is featherlight, barely there, but Rafe chases it. It’s the only thing he does, he leans in, he breathes deep, brows furrowing. His breath stutters when you touch him, fully, your palm splayed against his skin. His throat bobs, his eyes flutter, but he's finally still.

Waiting.

Hoping. Like he’s letting you do this, instead of cajoling you into it.

You pull him by the neck, slowly, afraid he still isn't steady enough to weather any harshness, and he barely watches, his eyes already closed, opening ever so slightly when your mouth touches his.

A quiet, shuddering sigh spills from him before he can stop it. His fingers dig into you, into your sides, pulling you closer, his body pressing into yours like he needs this, like he needs you.

His lips part again, eager, desperate— But he doesn’t devour, he only melts.

His breath is warm, uneven, fanning over your skin with every shaky exhale. You can feel the goosebumps rising along his arm as you let your hand trail there, climbing farther up his bicep until you get to his shoulder, and let it travel to his neck. Rafe sighs again, crumbling in place, his hands gripping you like he's trying to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingers.

Then there's the sound— the softest, neediest noise from the back of his throat as your lips move against his. He's drinking you in, savoring every second, hands slipping lower, mapping the curve of your waist. His fingers press into the fabric of your top, clinging, grabbing, until he finds a single slit of exposed skin on the small of your back, and sinks his hands under the top like he wants to pull you inside out, like he needs more, like he'll never get enough.

You feel the conflict rippling beneath his skin— he's holding back even as his fingers dig into you, even as his lips chase yours as if he needs you in order to breathe. He sways slightly against you, melting into you, his body betraying just how much he wants this.

He makes another sound, this one closer to a moan, his lips parting further, his nose brushing yours as he leans in, chasing the warmth of your kiss as if he’s afraid you’ll take it away.

And then, you do. Just as quickly as you give, you take it back.

Your fingers tighten around his neck, taking a quiet gasp from his lips as you pull away. And Rafe remains there, unwilling to let go, his lips still parted, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. His eyes— dazed, glassy— flicker between your face and your mouth, trying to chase your lips back against his, hungry for more.

You don't give him the time to try again.

There are only two doors left. The double doors, and a single one, the one he’s pressing you against. You reach for the handle and turn it. Rafe stumbles into you, and you catch him, laughing again, though a little quieter. – C’mon, let’s get you to bed.

He nearly whines as you close the door behind him, but smiles stupidly when you press him to the door again.

His hand finds your waist, drifting upwards against your back, tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. He’s still breathing heavily when he pulls you in, but you turn before he can dive into you, and his lips end up pressed on your jaw.

He lets you look around, but keeps you in place, hitting the light switch.

His room is wide, but it's cluttered. The walls, the floor, the furniture, the curtains—everything is bright white, like an asylum. It’s the kind of space that should feel sterile, untouched. But it isn’t.

Clothes are draped over chairs, magazines are thrown haphazardly on the desk, and the only pop of color that looks intentional—an unevenly sprawled blue duvet that hangs off the mattress—looks like it was barely considered, a half-hearted attempt at warmth in a place that rejects it, completely.

The mess isn’t overwhelming, but against all that blankness, every stray item sticks out like a bruise.

You feel Rafe’s hands on your face, his fingers stroking lightly against your cheek. – Like what you see? – He mumbles, looking dazed. – Feels like home, doesn’t it? – You think it's sarcasm at first, but with the way his eyes bore into you, you’re not sure you can laugh.

He’s still looking at you expectantly, as if trying to hypnotize you, but you take his hands, and you pull him in. – C’mon, Rafe, let’s lay you down.

He hums, fingers squeezing yours softly:

– I’m kinda sad, y’know? – He’s almost docile in the way he lets you lead him, eyes clinging to your every move, doing his best to be compliant.

You try to reward him with simple touches. Your hands bracket his shoulders, then drift down to his hands, and back up, leaving goosebumps behind whenever skin touches skin.

Rafe stands there for a moment, back facing his bed as you throw the duvet on the bed and adjust it. He only finally sits down when you put your hand on his shoulder again.

– You really wanted to go to that party, huh?

– Nah. I really wanted you to keep that top off. – He giggles, a feather-light touch as his right hand traces the hem of your shirt, a vice grip as his left cups your hip. – You have a tattoo. I like tattoos. – His right hand drifts upwards, to your collarbone, he reaches to push the sleeve off so he can see better. But you grab his hand again, and he keeps it there.

– Thanks. – Your voice is low, but not a whisper.

Rafe’s grin is sharp, his hand is clammy. And though he still hums when you draw patterns on the back of his hand, he stares at the ink on your chest with a shade of vitriol darkening his eyes.

– You know who has a tattoo exactly like yours?

Of course you do.

You freeze, movements stopping, and he turns his hand in yours to pull you closer, setting it in the dip of his neck. – Who?

– Your little buddy, JJ.

You try to keep your face smooth as you look at Rafe. – We got the tattoo together.

He nods, still smiling, but there’s something else there. – How’d that happen, huh?

That's too long a story to tell to a drunk man.

– Can you lay on your side for me? – He looks at you blankly for a moment, but does, and stays quietly, watching you kneel on the bed, next to him, and pull a pillow from the snowdrift of blankets and cushions sprawled around his bed. Rafe shifts a little forward, his chest pressing against your legs, allowing you to tuck the pillow under him. – Here you go. Is that good?

– It’s nice. Feels nice. – You note the way his eyes droop slightly, almost like he enjoys having you fuss over him. You make a move to step back onto the floor, but his arm loops behind your knees, his hand on the side of your thigh, keeping you in place. – I don’t know what it says, though.

– What?

– Your tattoo.

You swallow. – Of course you do. You saw it.

– Not really.

His hand reaches for your collarbone again.

– Rafe.

– Just let me see it. – He almost pleads, the smile on his face is so cajoling, so sweet. You move his hand, but it remains flush with your skin as you pull the fabric down just enough. – Viam–

– “Inveniam Viam.”

– What is it? – He whispers, fingers brushing the letters softly, insistently, as if they were braille, something he could only grasp by touching.

– The name of his dad's old boat. It just happened to be a motto I really liked. – His hands are warm, too warm, and the way he moves them, just shy of scrubbing, like he’s trying to wipe the words from your skin. – Its shorthand for a Latin saying: “Aut Inveniam Viam aut faciam”. It means “either find a way, or make one.”

Rafe’s eyes go round for a second, and he whispers the translation under his breath as he stares at the tattoo, savoring the words in his mouth.

– It's very… – He stares at the ink for a moment, as if searching for the right word. – proactive. – His eyes bore into yours. His hands are suddenly lighter, suddenly calmer. They don't press as deeply into your flesh. It's like you’re watching someone who's possessed: Rafe flitters back and forth between a nice guy and a manic creature. – It's not very JJ, though. He’s not that kind of guy.

You want to tell him that the motto is JJ to a T. That he’s the guy that does whatever it takes to get at what he wants, but just as the thought strikes, it becomes clear that it’s exactly right: JJ couldn’t find a way to Kie, so he made one, through you.

Whatever it takes.

Even if it takes using someone like a prop to throw around, and then tossing them.

– If you say so, Rafe.

– I do. – Hes’s staring again. – JJ’s a coward. He can’t stick to anything. He's not proactive. He just goes around throwing shit at a wall and hoping it sticks.

You don't say anything.

You don't know what to say.

A week ago, you would’ve thought Rafe was wrong. That he was just talking shit because he hated JJ, and he couldn't comprehend the person beneath the persona. Now you wonder if there truly is a ‘person’ —Something deeper than the antics JJ uses to woo people into thinking he's cool— That maybe that ‘persona’ actually is JJ, and you're the idiot trying to see something softer, sweeter, where there is not.

– You're staying, right? – The question startles you out of that thought. Rafe’s looking at you now, half his face squished against the pillow, and his fingers pull your sleeve back over the tattoo, as if he’s shutting the door on that conversation.

Your mind takes a while to process it.

– What?

– You’re staying. – A statement, not a question. You look at him for a moment, your brain flipping through all the possible responses he could have to a “no” before you can say anything. – You can’t go now. It’s late.

– Lay back, Rafe. – He nods, obedient, but his eyes betray a twinge of mistrust as they fall closed, then slit open, and close again. You look back at the bathroom door, ajar on the corner. – Do you need more water?

– I’m fine. D’you need clothes?

– Clothes?

– To sleep in. I can land you a shirt, if you want. – His hand brushes the fabric of your top, fingers tracing the collar, edging against your skin. – It gets really cold in here in the middle of the night. Of course, if you like to sleep naked, then I won’t stop you either.

You scoff: – And here I was, thinking there were no gentlemen left in this world.

– I aim to please. – He chuckles. His arm is still wrapped around the back of your knees, and he looks up at you, almost hopefully, an absent-minded smile on his face.

– I can’t stay, Rafe. – It would’ve almost pained you to say it, if it weren’t for his previous comment.

– Yeah, right.

– I’m serious. My brother’s probably crashing out as we speak. If I don’t leave now, I’ll probably only get there after midnight and God knows how long his little lecture’s gonna take.

– That sucks, y'know? I really wish there was a way that you could sleep right now and avoid a lecture from the jobless hobo that lives in your house. – He gasps dramatically, ignoring your clear lack of amusement. – Wait a minute! I know what.

– Hilarious. – You step back onto solid ground, but he holds onto you.

– You said you’d sleep with me. You promised.

You didn’t, though. But you were sure he wouldn’t appreciate that fact.

– Well, Rafe, sometimes I lie. – You chuckle, though there wasn’t much humor in your words, yet Rafe remains completely serious.

– You can stay. You’re already here. What else are you gonna do? Walk home? Alone there, at night, in the cold?

– It’s not cold, though.

– Yeah? And what if it starts raining? You’ll get— You’re gonna get sick. Then you’ll miss work, and you’ll lose your job. And then — then — Your jobless brother’s gonna have to figure out how not to starve all on his own.

You raise a brow, stewing in the intent behind his words for a second. – You’re not manipulative at all, are you?

– I'm Persuasive. – He corrects. – Because— Because I’m a proactive kind of guy, alright? And you know I'm right.

To your own chagrin, you do.

He is right.

It would be easy—so easy—to just lay back into the mattress beside him. To just fall asleep and put all your problems —John. Barry. JJ and Kie— on hold until you're in the mood to deal with them tomorrow. And maybe you like the way Rafe’s looking at you, like he needs you there.

But that’s exactly why you can’t stay.

Because everyone you know is already taking the easy way out, and so far, you've been the one that had to deal with the catastrophes that came from that. It was clear enough that none of them could deal with it on their own. So who was gonna help you clean up the mess if you chose the easy option and it eventually blew up in your face?

Not John.

Obviously not Barry.

JJ even less.

You have to do the right thing. Not because it's right, but because you don’t have another option.

– You are right. – You say, and he seems satisfied. This time he lets you step back onto the floor. He lets you step away. – But John’s still gonna be pissed in the morning, might as well get it out of the way now. – This time, you look straight at him. – I'm just…a proactive type of girl, y'know?

He isn't amused at your joke. More than anything, he seems frustrated. – Sleep tight, Rafe. Try not to toss and turn too much.

You open and close the door before he can say anything else, hitting the light switch on your way out.

It's 11:36. You step down the hall with light steps, and down the stairs with firm ones. The Cameron house is beautiful, you’ve always thought so, but like that, empty, in the dark, it looks like a husk. The shed of something that outgrew it, something that had nearly been suffocated within its walls.

You breathe much lighter when you step out through the back door, despite knowing you still have an hour long walk ahead.

There’s a feeling of surveillance in these suburbs, something Orwellian, dystopic. You cross the street, walking past perfectly manicured lawns and white picket-fences with the sense that someone’s watching you. Lurking somewhere.

Rafe’s light, the only light that remained on as you walked away, fades slowly in the distance with every step you take. The transition between the good and bad part of the island gets less subtle with every passing year: Vibrant green lawns become smooth, empty roads; those become overly curated golf fields, that become bumpy, broken roads, that finally become dirt paths and empty lots as you finally reach the Cut.

You try to glimpse at your watch in the all-consuming darkness. 00:04. You get startled by the nervous barking of a neighborhood dog every so often, but the farther you go into the marshes, the less you hear.

It’s 00:21 when the warm lights of your home finally peek through the thick leaves and endless trails around the riverbank, but there’s no comfort that comes with that realization.

The walk up to the porch seems to stretch for longer than the entirety of your walk before it, and you realize you’re dragging your feet. For a moment you ponder the possibility of going in through the back, just to avoid your brother. But it seems stupid. Childish.

For almost eighteen years you came and went through the front door. No one ever asked you where you went, who you were with, what were you doing. Nobody ever cared about what you did or didn’t do. Not your father, and damn sure not John.

You shouldn’t have to sneak into your own home just because he finally started caring.

And you shouldn’t be afraid to face him.

But you are.

The bitter smoke of marijuana still lingers about the ashtrays up front, ignited by a single recent spark that you can see bright as day when you stand before the door. John had probably just walked in, his impatience finally getting the best of him.

You click your tongue, and rub your temples, bracing for the impact to come.

A ceiling fan buzzes lazily in the distance, the creek of its rusty rusty metal blades cutting in every so often, like a pained squeak.

You realize that the deep breath you just took did nothing to help your nerves as you step into the living room to see it almost completely bathed in darkness. The kitchen light is on, but the warmth that bleeds in through the open door does nothing to ease the atmosphere.You feel like the first kill in an 80s horror movie, one foot after the other, the floorboards creaking under your shoes, the phone that buzzes on the dirty dinner table.

You reach for it. It’s not broken, no more than it already was. So at least you have that.

The screen lights up with a notification that vanishes before you can register it.

– So. How was it?

You have to breathe in so you don’t jump at the sudden question.

John stares at you from the couch, his jaw tight, his foot bouncing in a steady rhythm against the floor. JJ sits beside him, shoulders tense, hands clasped between his knees. He’s not looking at you.

You stop exactly where you were, heartbeat hammering in your ears.

The silence is thick, stretching between the three of you like a live wire.

– How was the night? Good? It's a little early to be coming home from a figure eight party. – His voice is steady, cold. But it isn’t calm. He’s staring through you, like he doesn’t recognize the person standing in front of him, like he’s never seen you in his life. – Maybe it wasn’t so good, after all.

You don’t wanna give into him. You know damn well that won’t make it any easier.

– This James Bond routine isn’t really your style, John. Don’t you wanna come right out with the accusations? Save us all some time.

He laughs, but the sound is bitter. Contained. More a scoff than anything.

You try to keep your composure, waiting for his words.

All you hear is JJ exhaling sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. John, though, doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His foot just keeps bouncing, a barely restrained coil of anger.

– Who were you with? – he asks, voice low.

– I was with Barry.

– Bullshit! – John stands abruptly, and JJ stiffens beside him. The room is too small, too suffocating. – Barry just left. He was looking for you. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. So what? What’d you do?! Did you leave your best friend to go home with Rafe Cameron?! Is that where you were?

– I didn’t leave Barry. Barry left me with Rafe. I didn’t even go to that party.

– No?! – He laughs again, the sound reminiscent of a rattlesnake. You feel like he might pounce on you at any given moment. – So what? WHAT? You just stayed there? To do what? Fuck him?!

– Jesus Christ! – You exclaim. Your head is pounding. – I’m not the one whose fucking my way up the social ladder, John. You are! Don’t go around throwing stones from your little porcelain house, this shit isn’t cute anymore.

– Yeah! Because you hooking up with Rafe Cameron is just completely normal, right?! Is that why you’ve been acting so weird, huh?! Your drug dealer boyfriend wasn’t enough so you had to go and get yourself a psychopath too?!

– What the fuck is wrong with you?! Barry’s not my fucking boyfriend, John! We’re friends! It’s not my fault you’ve never managed to make friends with a girl you didn’t want to sleep with!

– FUCK YOU!

– No, fuck you! I didn’t sleep with Rafe Cameron, okay?! He was high! He was wasted! All I did was drive him home.

– Yeah right.

– That’s the fucking truth, okay?! If you don’t believe me, I don’t care! But don’t start accusing me of shit I haven’t done!

– I told you not to go!

You shift your weight. – And I told you this shit wasn’t your decision.

– That’s not the point! I tell you that Barry’s bad news, and what do you do?! You go out with him! I tell you that Rafe Cameron is a creep, and you go out of your way to be alone with him! And then you go to a party where I can’t even reach you–

– I DIDN’T GO TO THE PARTY! And you couldn’t reach me because YOU took my phone!

– That’s not the point!

You’re the one laughing now. – Oh, sure! What is the point then?! Please! Enlighten me!

– The point is that you’re doing this shit to piss me off!

– You are UNBELIEVABLE, John! Actually un-fucking-believable!

John lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. – Jesus Christ. What the hell is wrong with you?

You clench your jaw. – Nothing is wrong with me! I just don’t need you making choices for me! You never did before!

– Are you kidding me?! – He gestures wildly. – You were the one who left with Barry and Rafe Cameron. How am I supposed to trust you when these are the choices you make?! Do you even hear yourself?

– They’re not as bad as you make them out to be.

John looks at you like he doesn’t even recognize you. – You can’t be serious.

JJ shifts beside him, eyes flickering between you both, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He still hasn’t said a word.

– You don’t get to tell me who I can be around, John. – you say, trying, but failing, to keep your voice even. – You don’t own me.

His face twists. – It’s not about that!

– Clearly it fucking is!

– It’s NOT! It’s about the fact that you don’t fucking listen, – He snaps. – I told you not to go, and you did anyway. Like it was nothing. Like my opinion—like my concern—doesn’t mean shit to you.

That stings.

Your voice softens, just slightly. – That’s not fair.

John exhales sharply, shaking his head again. – No. What’s not fair is me having to sit here, wondering if I’m gonna have to drag your ass out of some mess Barry and Rafe got you into.

– Oh! You’re gonna drag me out of a mess?! YOU ARE? I’m not the one who’s getting detained every other day, okay! I’m not the one who has to be bailed out of stupid, or worse, illegal, situations, John! That’s you! That’s all you! My friends aren’t getting me arrested!

– You don’t have any friends.

The words hang in the air, heavy and final.

You inhale slowly.

John’s watching you, waiting for you to say something—anything—that’ll make this argument last another hour. Something he can use to make you the guilty party whenever he needs you to bail him out of stupid situations again.

But you don’t.

And you won’t.

The silence stretches.

JJ shifts again. His knee bounces.

John clenches his jaw, looking away. – Whatever.

That’s all he says before he turns and disappears down the hall, his bedroom door slamming shut behind him.

JJ exhales, rubbing his face with both hands. He still doesn’t look at you.

You stare at the empty hallway. At the door that won’t open again tonight.

And you wonder why it still feels like you lost.

– You shouldn’t have done that. – JJ’s voice is barely above a whisper. He finally raises his head to look at you, his expression worried, almost saddened. Like half of this isn’t his own fault.

– I’ll take a lecture on things I shouldn’t do from a lot of people, JJ. I’ll even take a page out of my brother’s book. But I don’t wanna hear shit from you.

His blue eyes are narrow as he sits there, brows furrowed, hands clasped. He looks like a beggar. The analogy isn’t very far from the truth. All JJ ever does is take. He begs and he whines and he takes, and no matter how much you offer it’s never enough.

Because he doesn’t want your help.

He doesn’t want your time.

He doesn’t want your attention, or your affection, or whatever it is that you give to him for free.

He wants the validation of knowing he doesn’t have to do anything to get you to give him whatever he wants.

JJ exhales sharply, rubbing his face with both hands. You can feel the tension in the room shift slightly.

You’re tired.

Tired of him.

Tired of John.

Tired of this conversation.

You turn on your heel, but before you can make it to your door, JJ grabs you by the wrist, his fingers digging into you.

– Don't do this. – His voice is softer, quieter now, a hint of something vulnerable underneath the anger.

– What, JJ?! What am I doing?! – You snap, pulling your wrist from his grip, the frustration bubbling up again.

– You’re shutting me out! Again. – His voice drops to a near-whisper, and there's a flash of something else in his eyes—a mix of hurt, of something darker. His hand doesn’t let go, but his grip loosens just slightly, like he’s unsure of himself now. You feel his breath, warm against your skin, as he takes a step closer.

– I’m not doing anything to you, JJ! Let go of me! – You try to back away, but he steps forward, into you, pressing you against your door. The space between you feels thick, too charged.

– You are! – His tone is exasperated now. He's persistent, almost pleading, as if he’s trying to make you understand something he can’t put into words. His hand moves up, brushing your arm lightly, and you feel his gaze on you, unsettling in its intensity. – You know exactly what you do to me! But you're still brushing me off! – He glances over at John’s door, pulse quickening. His voice lowers even more, as if the very air in the room is thick with unspoken words. – Let’s just talk... in your room, okay?

– No. – You say it sharply, not even thinking about it, just wanting the space between you both. – I’m going to my room. And you can fucking leave.

JJ’s eyes flash, but it’s not the rage you expected. Instead, there’s a faint shadow of something deeper, something more twisted beneath his frustration. His jaw clenches, and you see that strange desperation flare up in him again.

He only scoffs at you.

Like the mere suggestion is ridiculous. – Stop acting like a child! This shit isn't fucking funny, okay?!

– Get off of me!

– Oh yeah? Is that what you want?

– It's what you're about to do, right now. Get the fuck off of me!

JJ takes a step back, hands up in mock surrender. And you don't wait for him to change his mind. You turn the handle, and step in.

But you barely have the time to brace yourself before he’s right there, his body pressed against yours, his chest against your back as his arms come around you to slam the door shut behind him. You gasp, caught off guard by how close he is—too close. The heat radiating off his skin, the thundering beat of his heart, and the tension in the air suffocates you as he pulls you toward him, his breath hot on the back of your neck.

His grip on your arm is iron, dragging you back with him until your body is flush against his, barely any space between you. The overwhelming closeness, the way his chest rises and falls against your back, makes your mind race, your heart pounding even faster in your chest.

– I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but isn’t fucking cute anymore, okay?! – His voice is low, rough, as if it’s a demand rather than a question. The intensity in it has your body tensing, your pulse skyrocketing.

You can feel every inch of him pressed against you—his chest, his legs, the creeping feeling of his hands as they climb up against your neck—and it's too much. You instinctively shove at his chest, desperate to put some distance between you, but he's relentless, his grip tightening as he pushes you further into the room.

You stumble, your back hitting the door with a soft thud. But there's no escape, not with him this close. You can’t breathe, can’t think straight with him so near. His eyes lock onto yours, unwavering.

– Stop it, JJ this shit isn’t funny! –You try again, more forcefully this time, your hands pressing against his chest. – Let go of me!

But he doesn’t, his body still caging you in, his face just centimeters from yours. His breath is shallow, and for a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed down to this single point of contact.

– Not until we talk. – he murmurs, his voice rough, almost desperate. He doesn’t back away, his proximity overwhelming in the silence that follows.

[bugisastranger]

a/n: prompt once again from @scealaiscoite | i haven't written for steve rogers (or watched any of his movies) since like 2021 so this is all off memory. third installment of my valentine's day series <3

"you're telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here today?"

steve says as the elevator doors open, taking a few steps forward. he turns, about to reach for the button, when he realizes you're going to the same floor.

"you're here, too. i don't wanna hear it."

"yeah, well.. i'm still figuring all this out," steve says, his smirk barely noticeable. he leans against the wall of the elevator, which suddenly feels smaller than you'd remembered.

"is that what you've been doing?" you couldn't remember the last time steve mentioned seeing someone, if he ever had.

"yes."

you hum in response, letting his answer settle into the silence. and then you think... "i could teach you." that's not the right thing to say, is it? "sorry, i meant—i meant that i could be like a consultant. help you out. plenty of girls must be fawning over captain america."

steve scoffs. "that's the problem, though. isn't it? i'm just a guy." the elevator doors open with a ding and he waits for you to exit first. "i appreciate the offer."

he walks down the hallway beside you, and you start to realize this is the most you've ever really talked to steve about himself. "i'm sure someone can look past the red, white, and blue."

"can you?" he counters, holding open the glass door for you. it's a serious question, but he asks it like he already knows the answer—that you can't.

"sure, i can."

steve stops, grabbing your arm lightly to make you look up at him. "okay. what do you see?" you see that his hair is blonder than you remember. you see all the details in his eyes, the different shades of blue.

"i see a guy," you say. he drops his hand from your arm, smiling and looking to the side.

"touché."

you remember what you're here for, to work. but steve seems stuck in this conversation, so you are too. it's not unfamiliar that you're so drawn to him, but there's something more today, like he's magnetic. "what do you see in me?"

there's an almost awkward silence as he looks at you, almost studying your features. it's clear that he's thinking something, that he has a real answer, but he says, "a romance consultant."

"wow. that's all?" you chuckle, leaning against the wall.

"no, i..." he starts. his hands move from his pockets up to his hips, and it seems like he's trying to decide whether or not to continue. then, he catches your eyes, and that seems to make the decision for him. "i see someone too good to be spending valentine's day alone."

"well, you're here. i'm not exactly alone."

"you know that's not what i meant."

"i know. i'm just saying, i don't have to be. alone, i mean."

"i don't have flowers or anything." it almost sounds like an apology, like he should've foreseen this, even if there was no way to.

"that's okay. your company is enough."

"you should be getting flowers." he takes a step closer. "and chocolate." and he takes another step. "and... i don't know, what do people do on valentine's day? go to dinner? get jewelry?"

"they kiss."

"is that what you want?"

you nod, and steve throws caution to the wind. before you can blink, one of his hands is on your waist, the other holding the side of your head. he doesn't give you an opportunity to reconsider, his lips are pressed against yours like he's been waiting a lifetime for this moment. when he pulls away, it feels like you'd been kissing for ages, but then it feels like you'd only been kissing for seconds. his breathing is labored, and you can see red in his cheeks.

"was that your first kiss since 1945?"

"i'm not answering that."

"oh, come on," you pester, bringing your hand up to the side of his face, which seems to do the trick.

"yes."

"really?"

"yes, really."

"it didn't seem like it."

"well, i guess if you put enough heart into something you can fool anyone." his words make your heart practically soar out of your chest. 'if you put enough heart into something'. you wonder if he planned for that to sound the way it did. you could feel his passion in the kiss, but to hear him imply that it actually means something to him is something else entirely.

"although, now that you mention it... maybe i could tell. kiss me again?"

"i will, but that is so corny."

[masonscig]

different anon from the 'writer rant' one but it did bring up a topic i find fascinating in fandoms like this re: copaganda and the like. prefacing this by saying that i in no way support cops or think this is a realistic way of portraying them. with that in mind, i feel like there's this common hang up in series like twc where the MC is some sort of law enforcement equivalent - whether its an actual cop or some ancient/medieval/future/alternate universe equivalent - people get frustrated when you aren't able to rebel against that enough. and this isn't just a twc thing either, i've seen the same kind of points made for all kinds of IF games. and like, i get the desire to and how most people would make their OC's decent enough people to recognize that kind of corruption for what it is, but if you're signing on to be a character that by default is in a law enforcement/adjacent position, and has some sense of pride in it, i'm not sure how the author is expected to properly account for that perspective that completely opposes all that.

like, in twc the MC almost always willingly signs on to the force, and even in the 'do it or go to jail' origin they still take pride in being able to help people now despite the circumstances of them joining up - any option to be extraordinarily wary of the agency or cops in general contradicts that unchangeable part of the MC's backstory and identity. and i get your point about mish/ka making an idealistic utopic version of things, but i don't really know what else is to be expected in a series that's effectively set up to be a supernatural crime romance? i don't want to make it sound like the frustrations/concerns are invalid because they're not at all! but i feel like by now the role law enforcement and the like plays in the detective's life is so established people have to suspend some of their beliefs about it to play a series that's always had a pretty pro-law enforcement concept/theme. idk if that makes any sense but thanks for letting me ramble

hey yeah no problem! my inbox is always open for rambling – i love to read it!

i see what you mean and i agree w you to some degree, but also, like i don't think it's a lot to ask of mis/hka to both be critical of c*ps in the story while also allowing the mc to be critical of them too. my criticism is less that this is c*paganda, because yes, any media that humanizes c*ps functions as that, but regardless of that, there should be some level of scrutiny from mis/hka's end.

the point i'm making is that mis/hka could've made ab*se of power an overarching theme connecting humans and supernaturals alike, by leaning into the idea that "c*ps are corrupt, and so is the agency – no matter if you're human or supernatural, any structure meant to protect the people is going to be corrupt because people naturally ab*se power" but she's not doing that. i highly doubt that she's playing the long con.

she's teasing the idea that the mc can have thoughts about hating their job and their position, can be afraid of supernaturals, can be reluctant to join the agency – so, if mc is allowed to do that, then what's the point? is it leading to anything? is the agency corrupt? are the c*ps corrupt? from mis/hka's asks, she insists that the agency are good people (and by default the c*ps too). so then, 'why even give us this road if it's not leading anywhere?' is my question

like regardless of if she wants us to read this as a utopia, it's not. if mc shoots a du mortain, it's just "more paperwork" – don't really spend too much time thinking about the fact that what mc perceives to be is a human was shot by them. just as example. mc can literally choose in b3 to wipe bobby's brain – a c*p actively silencing a journalist (whoa we haven't seen that anywhere have we!). not to mention the like military grade stun volts that agents can just have and use on people. (also the t*rture.) i could go on forever but you get what i mean

again, i really do get what you're trying to say, but saying "this is c*paganda, what do you expect" and shutting down all discussion about expectations of the series isn't really the best way to approach it imo. you can and should examine media past the surface level thought of "this is c*paganda" – yes, we know that. you should counter with, and here's why! and as for what i expect – nuance. i expect a nuanced approach.

[hel1nn]

And suddenly everything changed ೀ⋆｡

Ch.2 a date before marriage? Previous:3 next.

𐔌 . ⋮ satoru gojo x fem zenin!reader .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ : Listen to kingston while reading ⭑.ᐟ

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ : fluffyy | 18+ smut mdni | eventual smut | arranged marriage | reader is 22 and gojo is 25 | reader had a lonely life untill satoru came | abuse (gojo did nothing here.) | trauma | sprinkles of angsts | jealousy | flashbakes | soft!satoru | soft!reader | loss of virginity | self harm | first time falling in love | reader has two sisters. | Reader belongs to zenin clan. | Idiots to lovers | reader doesn't find satoru annoying since she was alone her whole life. | Insecurities | 𖦹ׂ ₊˚⊹⋆

౨ৎ Summery : spending your whole life with feeling of being useless and a waste of space,even worse that your two sisters had cursed energy but you didn't, made you wanted to kill yourself so many times but it stopped when a marriage proposal was sented to gojo clan about marrying you or one of your two sisters. Your sisters were so powerful and beauty with brain so why did satoru gojo choosed you? Moodboard | series masterlist

A/N : IDK WHAT TO SAY ABOUT THIS AND SORRY IF I MADE MISTAKES ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Few days has been passed since you met satoru. You can't help but think about him almost every night. Today when you woke up your one of your sister came up to you saying that satoru wants to talk with you, now here you are talking with him on your fathers phone. You locked your room's door for now.

"may i know...what do you wanna talk about"

You said to satori whos behind the screen. You could here a soft chuckle before he spoke

"is there any problem with me talking with my future wife"

"..."

Your face started to heat up..he was already calling you his future wife. Slightly freaking out you nervously answer,cheeks tinted in light pink

"n-no no its not like that listen-'

"no need to freak out i am not maddd" you don't know why but you could literally hear the pout on his lips from the phone,you slump down sighing

"i mean...i thought you'd get disappointed slightly.." you mumble to the phone "but please tell me if you need something.."

"sneak out of your estate at 5:30 I'll come to pick you up"

You stare at the screen dumb founded, before you could say anything he started to speak again

"no excuses i want to see you waiting for me in the nearby park"

The call ended with a click , your eyes shot up in realization. He wants you to sneak out of your clan and meet him...welll. you were anxious why did he wanted to meet you today. Does he wants end this marriage- nope. He wouldn't want to see you for that at least thats what you thought. Your brain not working for a damn minute. ..you don't even have your own clothes that you could wear on special occasions,all the clothes you have were what you wear in your house and nothing more...

── .✦

You managed to sneak out of your estate since no one really checked up on you. Waiting for satoru to come. You don't know what to say about your outfit..you just put a hoodie and pants on. Thats all you got you don't care how you look like right now. You stood there waiting for satoru,from looking around you could tell its already passed 5:30 or something, just to see a black car stop Infront of you. There satoru came out of the car,he was wearing a long coat with turtle neck sweater,black slacks and men's boots. This time there are fancy shades resting on the bridge of his nose, letting you see his blue irises,they were just as bright as the stars you gazed at nights. Satoru smiled seeing you stare at him, snapping his fingers Infront of your face. You stare dumbfounded at him,as realization hits you that how close you two were you take a step back,your face heating up in embarrassment "s-sorry i didnt meant to stare at you like a creep-" you start to apologise for staring at him for too long but ut was too late.

"don't be sorry i know you like what you see right neowwww" satoru teased, laughing softly. He lets you have your personal space. You looked away shyly. Not knowing what to and then the important question pops up in your mind.

"uhm so...why did you wanted me to sneak out of my..place.."

"i am gonna take you out with me."

You stare at satoru dumbfounded for the who knows how many time...he wants to take you out with him sneakily..? He could just tell your father and take you out with him but why like this?

"you know..you could just ask my dad that you want to take me out with you.." you trail of, giving him a small smile just to remind him you don't want to sound rude.

"but its way more fun like this.." satoru chimes, already pulling you with him in the car,you try to say something but thennn you were in satorus car, sitting on the passenger seat.

You just let yourself have some fun, cause nothing was wrong with it. No one really checks up on you so you didn't had to worry about anything happening in your place. The silence was somehow comfortable,you don't know. But then satoru breaks it.

"oh..i forgot to take your number.." satoru said, his hand already offering his phone to you so you could save your number in it.

"actually i don't have a phone.." you mumble and satoru hears it immediately. You didn't really needed a mobile phone since your used to spend your life while watching all this drama. Your dad didn't bothered to get you one too. Satoru was slightly surprised,but then he chuckles

"no problem" you didn't know what he was thinking again,but you knew there would be something by seeing his little smile. And you were completely RIGHT. satoru stopped his car Infront of a shopping mall. Satoru is a little bit too much kind to you. You think since everyone always told you that being kind to you is as hard as a rock. But satoru is being kind to you as if it was never hard...like everyone told you. Satoru's big hand grabs yours again, you had never held any men's hand like this until today. Satoru's hands were warm. You try to say something like where are we going but satoru shuts you up with a playfull remark. You don't know when but a small smile appeared on your lips. Satoru took you to every shop you landed a eye on. You protested that you don't need clothes or some things this much but didn't listened to you. Making you both ending carrying bags of things he gifted you. But a thing was still left. Buying you a phone that you didn't asked for. But he will get you right now anyway. Now here you are, standing Infront a fancy restaurant after a dinner with satoru, where no one took you to. You stooe there with a new phone in your hand...like it was really your phone.. a smiling satoru standing Infront of you.

"i don't need this gojo-"

"satoru." He corrected and you broke into a small smile. Shaking your bead gently

"satoru...i don't really need a phone"

"but you wouldn't be able to talk to if you don't have a phone.." oh. You finally accepted the phone so you could talk with satoru when you're home. The ride to your estate was full of you smiling. You don't remember when you were this much happy last time. His warm hand held yours,long fingers tracing the scars on your wrists. You let him do that because it was comforting. A warm gesture from him. When both of you arrived there wqs horror painted on your face. Where are you going to keep all the things satoru gave you today..?

"g- satoru..." You mumble, tugging at his pinky,he looks at you with a smile, majestic as always. You blush slightly but continue

"can you keep these things? I'll do something about it later i guess-"

"no need to worry, I'll keep these things and after our wedding I'll buy you a closet." Satoru's fingers gently squeezed your cheek. You sigh. A red hue coming up from your neck. that night satoru teleported you too your room. Your phone already has his number in it. Leaving you for Tonight again but with a warmth inside your chest again.

Taglist : @chilichopsticks @milolop @kuroosvow @bypanana @hoseokslefteyebrow @sorcerersseestars @ssetsuka @megumisthirdog @certainduckanchor @myahfig4 @officialholyagua and idk why i can't tag @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin :(

[it-happened-one-fic]

Bridal Visions: Photoshoot #3 - Inazuma Bridal - A New Beginning

Summary: You really should’ve known better than to trust your old friend, Chiori, when she’d asked you and Kazuha to model bridal clothes. But, you also couldn’t exactly say you were entirely annoyed with her meddling. Especially not when it might lead to something new and exciting.

Type: Female reader/ 800 Followers Event/ series/ sfw/ fluff/ Chiori is shipping/

Bridal Visions Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1082

It was almost impressive that, along with calling me and Kazuha over for an Inazuman-themed bridal photoshoot, Chiori had also imported red maple leaves that she would rain down over the two of us.

But I had to admit, the outfits weren’t what I expected. 

Kazuha’s wasn’t that odd. The traditional black and white outfit that had the minimal accent color of a brilliant red. Pretty much his usual colors, though I had to admit he certainly looked very put together.

I also wore a kimono, but without any headdress, and my clothes were completely done in shades of white.

Chiori had explained while she'd helped me get dressed, though, “I wanted to design something that was traditional in Inazuma but also reflected the changing times for the nation, so I did away with the headdress.”

I’d felt myself smile as I’d met her garnet-colored eyes, familiar even though it had been so long since I’d last seen her, “Then does that mean I’ll be able to wear this when my wedding day does finally come along?”

She’d snorted, shaking her head slightly in a characteristic no-nonsense fashion, “Let’s wait till you find your dream spouse first.”

I’d laughed lightly, not expecting her to continue until her red eyes met mine, “Of course, who knows. Maybe today will be the start of your dream relationship.”

A smile had spread across her face as I’d made a face at her, not about to fall prey to her teasing even if it was bluntly delivered in her usual, unenthused tone.

But now that I was standing here, I had to admit that posing like this in bridal clothes with Kazuha certainly did put ideas into one’s head.

And Kazuha was both charming and beyond sweet with the way he was so polite and soft-spoken as he would smile gently at me. And from the way the photographer had cooed at the two of us when we’d first walked out and seen one another all dressed up like we were about to exchange vows, I had no doubts that we looked like a perfect little couple.

Young, in love, and ready to start a new life together. And even though I didn't know whether Kazuha would ever settle down, the thought of him never marrying was sad. After all, he would make someone a wonderful husband.

I refused to let Chiori’s teasing get to me and trick me into starting to wonder if I could be that someone, though.

And, at the very least, I could focus on posing for the camera right now and distract myself from any such thoughts.

“Kazuha, shift the umbrella so it isn't hiding you. You need to be in the shot too,” Chiori’s dry voice called from where she stood next to the photographer as Kazuha adjusted, smiling with slight amusement over at me where I stood right next to him.

“I still think you should be the main subject of the photo,” His voice was soft as he smiled at me, and I shook my head. Determined not to think about his words too much or read too deeply into them.

He just meant the bride was usually the focus during a wedding. That was all. I wasn’t about to consider the idea that he thought I was pretty or anything like that.

“If Chiori hears you, you’re going to get a scolding. Besides, we’re both here to model wedding clothes, not just me,” I matched his volume, whispering back even as I smiled slightly at him.

There was so little space between us as we stood together. Him with his back to the camera and an umbrella over his shoulder while I stood facing him, with my side to the camera.

“Besides, without you it would just be a bunch of white with some red leaves,” I flapped my arms lightly as if to indicate exactly how pale and monochromatic my clothes were.

I tilted my head slightly, careful not to disturb the styling that had been done to my hair as I smiled at him amusedly, “It wouldn’t be a very interesting photo that way.”

He shook his head, his gaze somehow softening, “It doesn’t have to be interesting to be beautiful.”

I blinked at him, my eyes widening slightly at his words before Chiori’s voice interrupted once more, “Okay, you lean towards him, Y/n, and both of you shut your eyes like you're about to kiss but don’t pucker.”

I pressed my lips together reflexively at her words as Kazuha blinked in surprise before nodding at her with a slight smile.

I shut my eyes, following her directions and doing my best not to look awkward, and then I felt it. Kazuha’s fingers curling into mine as he squeezed my hand lightly. Quiet reassurance that I felt myself reciprocate almost immediately as the slightest of smiles crept onto my face and I felt myself relax.

And then I heard the camera’s shutter click, followed quickly by Chiorir’s voice, perfectly pleased as she called out, “Good.”

My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I saw was Kazuha looking at me. The slightest of smiles on his face as leaves rained down around us from where Chiori must have signaled for them to be dropped after I’d closed my eyes.

And it was better than good. It was perfect. An image I knew would haunt me from now on as I hesitantly smiled back at him as he reached up and caught a leaf out of the air just before it landed on me.

He gazed at it for a brief moment, his stare thoughtful, before his eyes slowly shifted back until they were focused on me once more, “I’ve always associated these leaves with farewell, but now I wonder….”

He blinked, a smile flickering across his face that had me smiling in return even as I heard the photographer start collecting her tools as he finished, “Could they also signal a new beginning?”

I hummed, my voice coming out surprisingly soft as I lingered near him, even though I knew our photo shoot was done, “I don’t see why not.”

I finally stepped back, looking away from him and sighing slightly before I looked towards where Chiori stood. Her arms crossed as she watched both of us with a far too analytical gaze that I knew caught far more than she let on.

But it didn’t matter, because this was, at most, just the beginning.

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[rekino2114]

Fem. Gojo showing you her domain

You were lying on your bed mindlessly watching videos until you heard a tap on your window. You went in front of it, readying your cursed technique in case it was an enemy. After what happened with toji you were not going to take any more chances. You were very relieved to see it was just your girlfriend. You opened the window and let her come in

"Oh, satori, what are you doing here?"

"What? Can't a girl visit her boyfriend once in a while?"

"I meant why were you outside my window?"

"Your dorm is on the second floor, and I just got back from a training session. No way I'm gonna do all those stairs"

"It's like two flights, and you thought floating was easier?"

"Hey I got my technique I'm gonna use it"

"Whatever, anyway so why did you wanna visit?"

"Oh yeah, I got something super cool to show you"

She smiled brightly and pointed at herself in a dramatic manner

"Guess who just perfected her domain expansion?"

"....For real?"

"For real real, it took training and a lot of mochis to power up but I finally did it"

"That's so cool, tori. domain expansions are the peak of jujutsu, I'm so proud of you"

"Well, of course I'd be able to do it sooner or later, I am the strongest after all but thanks for the praise"

"Don't mention it"

"Soooo are you ready to see it or what?"

"Won't it hurt me?"

"Nah, it's a non lethal domain.......kinda"

"....that's not really reassuring"

"Come on, don't you trust me? It's beautiful to look at, it's gonna be a nice date place"

"*sighs* fine but if I die my ghost will haunt you forever"

"Don't worry, I'll never let anything happen to you"

You were slightly taken aback by her serious tone, but she quickly went back to her silly self as she smiled again, put her hands together, and disappeared, you sighed and waited for a few seconds before she reappeared with an embarrassed expression on her face

"S-sorry, I forgot you can't-"

"It's fine let's just go"

You went outside (using the door this time), and in the courtyard, gojo stood near you and held your hand

"You gotta keep holding my hand. If you don't, then you might be in a coma for a couple of months k?"

".....what?"

"Don't worry, it'll be fine. You can hug me if you're really worried, I certainly wouldn't complain~"

"*sighs* just get on with it"

She smiled again and took off her shades, revealing the blue eyes you loved to stare at, put them in her pockets, and did her domain hand sign with her free hand.

"Domain expansion: infinite void"

Suddenly, black filled your vision as you got transported into her domain, an endless plane of black with white spots, satori's grip on you tightened as she looked back at you

"Soooo what do you think? Pretty nice to look at isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful, but I guess it was guaranteed that a beautiful girl like you would have a beautiful domain"

"Eh, such a charmer. You're gonna make me blush if you continue"

You sat down, and she did the same. Her hand made its way up your body until it reached your shoulder. She pulled you into a side hug and layed her head on your shoulder

"You know I love you right?"

"Yeah you tell me that every day"

"No, I mean like love, love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me"

"*giggle* really? The great satori gojo loves me this much? I'm honored"

"You should be, but seriously, after geto left, you're the only person I have left. Sure, I have shoko, but to be honest, I don't think she cares that much about me. Even if she did, she can't really understand me.....sometimes I feel so...lonely"

You silently side hugged her back as you saw her blue eyes become slightly lucid while looking around

"I guess it's fitting that my domain is a big empty void cause that's where I feel like I'm in sometimes........"

"Except when I'm with you of course"

You turned to see her smiling brightly and staring at you lovingly

"You're what keeps me going. You're someone that i know will never leave me. i love you so much"

"I love you too"

You two kissed passionately and looked at each other with pure love

"Alright, I think that was enough. If I keep my domain going for longer, I might get tired, I'll undo it now"

She did as she said and put her shades back on

"How about we go out to eat? It's almost dinnertime and there's a really good spot around here"

"Sure if we bring megumi and tsumiki too"

"Uh?..........dammit I forgot about them....do you think they'll be mad at me?"

"*sighs* you're such a mess of a mom, we can buy them some toys on the way home, maybe they'll forgive you then"

"Great idea, you're a life saver babe"

"It's nothing. Let's just go"

She dragged around as you brought the toys and food for your adopted children.

No matter what happened, you would stick by gojo's side, and she would, of course, do the same

[httpsdana]

Heeey! Could you do prompt 69 with Jamal Musiala (where he maybe accidentally confesses or something these are always cute)

BTW I LOVE LOVE YOUR WRITING SM HOW DO YOU ALWAYS GET ME INVESTED WHILE READING 😭

And thank you in advance ❤️

Oops?~Jamal Musiala

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

69-"did you just say you like me?"

It was supposed to be a casual hang out between 'friends', but the tension in the air almost said something different.

Jamal and y/n were watching a movie, a comedy one to be specific, however Jamal's concentration seemed to be on something else.

What broke his train of thoughts was y/n's laugh at something that was said in the movie. He looked up immediately, watching how her eyes crinkled while she laughed, the sound being so soothing to his ears, to the point where he blurted out some words without even noticing.

"you have a really cute laugh" Jamal said, before he noticed what he did, causing his eyes to widen.

y/n's laugh faltered, looking at him to study his expressions. His face was in a deep shade of red, eyes on the ground and fingers tangled in each other on his lap.

"what?" she asked, wondering if what she heard was true or not.

"i meant you...laugh in a nice way?" he said awkwardly, clearing his throat while looking away.

"where is that coming from right now?" she asked, watching him squirm under her intense gaze.

"what do you mean, I didn't say anything wrong?" he said, his eyes still avoiding hers as he tried focusing on the movie again

"you're being really weird" she pointed out, reaching for the remote control to pause their movie.

She shifted her body in a position so she was facing him, her eyes searching his face for something...anything.

"tell me what's wrong?" she asked him, making him look at her for a second, before he turned away quickly.

"nothing's wrong. I don't know why you think there's something wrong" he mumbled, looking down at his hands.

"obviously there's something on your mind but for some reason you're refusing to tell me" she raised her eyebrows, crossing her fingers over her chest.

"it's nothing" Jamal brushed it off, reaching down for the remote to continue their movie.

Before he could reach it, y/n took the remote and put it behind her back.

"tell. me. what's. going. on" she said sharply, her eyes watching him so intensely.

"oh my god. nothings wrong. I mean I just like kinda have a crush on this girl but she's so stupid and she can't seem to get it and understand that I like her. i mean if I tell you your laugh is cute why don't you understand that I like you. isn't it obvious, I don't go around telling people they have nice laughs or whatever" he rambled, not understanding his own words as he felt the pressure of her gaze on him.

"hold on...did you just say you like me?" she asked, her eyes slightly wide.

Just then Jamal noticed what he had said, his eyes also widening as he cleared his throat.

"um...I did?" he said nervously, looking down at the ground once again

"yes you did" she said, a small smile appearing on her face.

"oh wow. I really did" he murmured, more to himself.

The awkward silence took over them for a while, both of them waiting for the other to say something. y/n got tired of waiting so she spoke again

"so you're not gonna kiss me?" she said, making Jamal look up at her with wide eyes.

"you want me to kiss you?" he asked, his forehead crinkling as his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"well obviously yes. if I didn't like you back I wouldn't be here would i? no offense Jamal but only people who really like you would stay around you for this long" she said, a bit of frustration evident in her voice as she spoke.

Jamal sat still for a second, trying to take in the words she had said. he didn't know if he should be upset about her words or just glad that she likes him.

"you're such a dumbass" y/n mumbled, before grabbing his face and connecting their lips.

Jamal's eyes widened, before he closed them and kissed her back, one of his hands reaching to the back of her neck to pull her even closer. their kiss was tender, full of all the admiration they have hid long enough.

They pulled away, both of them breathless. Jamal leaned back on the couch, his mind still comprehending what had happened.

He smiled to himself, his cheeks flushed as he looked at y/n with a tiny smile. Just then he remembered what she said, about "no one wanting to be around him"

"hey what did you mean no one would want to be around me?" he asked curiously, making y/n look at him with a look that says 'are you serious'

"we just kissed for the first time and now you're asking what I meant by that?" she said, her hand reaching up to cover her face

"I mean yeah" he shrugged, making her groan.

"you're so stupid oh my god" she mumbled, shaking her head with a small smile.

"but you like me...right?" he said, a boyish grin finding it's way to his face.

"yes you're lucky I like you" she said, making him chuckle a bit

"yes I am" he mumbled, smiling to himself at how their friendship has shifted in just one movie night.

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

Can't get the whole "Do you think you'd kill for me one day ?" "Yes, of course I will my darling" out of my head, but make it the Papas x their most devoted ghouls. Basically murder ghouls offering very morbid gifts to the Papas. They like it.

TW for morally grey characters - both Papas and ghouls - blood, kind of body horror, I guess ? I think it is. It might be a bit disturbing, so. Read with caution.

Earth bringing a beautiful bottle to Primo's office one day, something definitely meant for rituals, a masterpiece of carefuly crafted glass, full of a dark red liquid. Too dark to be wine. He simply sets it on a shelf, under the First's cautious eyes, and in an instant, Primo knows.

"Won't it...coagulate, or...I don't know, dry, rot ?" he asks from behind his desk, setting his glasses down in front of him. Earth smiles, adjusting the bottle so that the light catches it just right.

"I made sure it won't."

Primo smiles when the ghoul takes his hand and presses a kiss to the ring he's wearing.

"Take care not to drink it, your body wouldn't like it much."

Primo cocks an eyebrow.

"You gift me a full bottle of blood - human, i presume - and I'm not even allowed to drink it ? How very tragic."

Earth's chuckle rumbles in his chest.

"You can only wish to be a vampire, but, do not act like this isn't a power trip for you. Having someone's blood displayed in your office. Being able to admire its unique color."

Primo's smile widens.

Secondo looking up from his work, carefully setting the ancient book he's restauring on the side when Alpha leans against the doorframe, hands behind his back.

Once he's sure he has the former Papa's full attention, Alpha steps in, setting something on the desk, between Secondo's hand.

It's a paperweight, the kind he loves, heavy half globe of glass, in which is trapped a curiosity ; Secondo has a growing collection of those.

It's the first time, though, that an eye is staring blindly at him from within its transparent confine. A beautiful shade of brown, that eye, rich and deep, with flecks of gold ; Secondo leans closer to examine it.

"Fascinating," he comments, "you know me too well."

Alpha grins, rounding the desk to stand behind Secondo's chair, massaging his tense shoulders as he whispers against his ear.

"Took me a while to find the color I wanted, I know you have a thing for that kind of brown eyes."

Secondo hums, turning the paperweight this way and that, letting light bounce off it, projecting rainbows on the wall. It will definitely have a special place on his desk, so that Secondo will be able to gaze at it whenever he wishes to.

Alpha kisses the corner of his mouth, almost reverently, and Secondo puts the paperweight down, letting his eyes flutter shut.

Omega helping Terzo dress one morning, but just as the former Papa is about to move away, his ghoul tugs on his sleeve, shoving something in his hand.

What the rosary is made of is, Terzo immediately knows. The beads, the inverted cross, they're an ivory white that is quite impossible to mistake for anything other than it is.

By the way Omega hooks his chin on Terzo's shoulder, arms wrapping around his middle, the former Papa has no doubt it's important for him, that gift.

"It's lovely, my dear ghoul. Did you make it yourself ?"

Terzo really means it. The piece of jewlery is delicate and elegant, something he'll wear with pride.

"I did. I'm glad you like it."

A pause. Terzo takes a moment to bask in Omega kissing up his neck, before he slips the rosary around it.

"Should I ask who's bones I'm wearing ?"

Omega chuckles, face now burried in his hair.

"You know better. All that matters is that you look fantastic, wearing someone's bone."

Terzo does, so he simply smiles, admiring how the necklace rests on his chest in the mirror, sinking into Omega's embrace.

Dew, wordlessly slipping a bracelet around Copia's wrist after practice. He looks down, surprised, as the ghoul lingers, hovering at his side.

A thin chain, trinkets dangling from it, mostly tiny coins with infernal symbols engraved on them and....oh. Teeth. Well, they sure look healthy.

Copia takes to examinate them, tests the point of a canine, pleased to find it still sharp, humming under his breath.

"That's quite the work you've put in, Dew, thank you. It's beautiful."

The fire ghoul takes Copia's hand, turning it until he can kiss the inside of his wrist.

"I figured you'd like it. They're perfect, aren't they ?"

Copia takes another teeth between his two fingers, holding it up for further inspection, smiling at how flawless it is.

"They sure are. Wish I had that kind of dental care, eh."

Dew snorts, tail gently squeezing Copia's hips, who let himself be pulled in the ghoul's side.

[cosmerelists]

Ranking Various Cosmere Fantasy Swears

If there's one thing Brandon Sanderson likes, it's avoiding any real swear words in favor of Fantasy Swears. I am genuinely a huge fan of this technique. So here how I'd rank some of the ones I can remember! (And thanks to 17th Shard [here and here] and to Reddit for compiling some lists!).

#14: Colors (Warbreaker)

This one feels a little bit...lazy, I guess? Like yes, Warbreaker's magic is color-dependent, so colors are a big part of the world-building, so I guess it makes sense that people use it as a swear. But it feels like if, in fantasy USA, people swore by "eagles" all the time: "Eagles! I dropped my hamburger!"

#13: Moons (Tress of the Emerald Sea)

I mean same problem as with "colors"! Yes, the moons are a big aspect of the worldbuilding, but it just feels like a semi-boring swear. Although maybe that's just the swear that Tress tends to use.

#12: Shadows/Shades (Shadows for Silence/Sunlit Man)

Okay, maybe this one is a bit boring, but anything Threndy-related gets extra credit from me. So therefore I think this is one of the least boring of the "basically boring descriptors of world building elements" swears.

#11: By the Lord Ruler (Mistborn)

I mean...eh. This one is world specific, but it's basically like swearing by god only in this case the god is the Lord Ruler, right? It makes sense 'n' all but isn't as interesting as some of the later ones.

#10: By the Survivor's Scars (Mistborn)

This one is better because it's more specific--Kelsier's scars are rich with meaning, and swearing by them does feel like it carries cultural weight.

#9: By Harmony's Armbands (Mistborn)

Putting them all in a line like this...I just like how they get ever more specific. Now we're swearing by Harmony's feruchemical armlets? Okay!

#8: God Beyond (Shadows for Silence)

I mean, Threnody is, like, haunted by a god's corpse, so I think any of their god-related swears are more interesting as a result.

#7: Nights / Nights afire (Emperor's Soul)

I like this one because I just don't know what it refers to and it seems kinda creepy. What are nights on fire for??

#6: Rust and Ruin (Mistborn)

Frankly, the alliteration gets this one extra points. And "Rust and Ruin!" just feels like a good thing to shout when you've stubbed your toe.

#5: Storms/storming/Stormfather (Stormlight Archive)

I know this one SHOULD lose points for being exactly the sort of boring descriptive swear I maligned above...but I enjoy this one simply because it's such a clear linguistic stand-in for "fuck" and that leads to such amusing translations as "Kaladin Fuckblessed" or the "Fuckfather" and that just never stops being funny to me.

#4: Herald body parts (Stormlight Archive)

I didn't notice until looking at various compiled lists of Cosmere Fantasy Swears, but Rosharans really like to swear by specific Herald body parts, huh? From here: Kelek's breadth, Kelek's tongue, Ash's eyes, Ishar's soul, Nalan's hand, Pali's mind, Talat's hand...I'm a fan of this. It's interesting and feels culturally relevant.

#3: Glories Within (Stormlight Archive)

This one is just Szeth so far, but people speculate it's probably a Shin curse. That makes it interesting to me since we don't know a whole lot about the Shin. What inner glory are they using to swear?

#2: Starving (Stormlight Archive)

This one is pretty similar to "Storming," I suppose, in being a pretty clear linguistic stand-in for "fucking." But I just like that the food-obsessed Lift has her own personal swear relating to starvation.

#1: Lowly/Highly (Yumi and the Nightmare Painter)

I'm a big fan of the lowly/highly thing from Yumi & the Nightmare Painter, where words can be linguistically marked as meant in either a high way (complimentary) or a low way (insultingly). It's fun worldbuilding and leads to some comic beats in the novel. Plus, this post tickled me greatly: https://www.tumblr.com/cabinetcreature/722030379790401536?source=share. It's so true!

[hoshigray]

https://www.tumblr.com/hoshigray/725915919672573952/sit-down-for-this-one-alright-how-bout-a-gigolo

your fic with toji i love it sm 🫶🫶🫶 BUT how would he react if reader tried someone elses services cs her friends told her to try it out…

noonie, you're so real for this bc damn, why the hell didn't i think of that :OOO lol hope you like this, hon~~ spin-off of this → ☆;

cw: gigolo! Toji x fem! reader - smut so minors DNI - dumbification - toji being jealous/possessive bc duh - cunnilingus (f! receiving) - clitoral play (biting/grazing + pinching) - degradation (toji calling you a whore and slut) - scratching (f! receiving) - impact play; pussy slaps - prone bone + full nelson position - pet names (baby, mama, princess) - new playboy may or may not be Gojo *shrugs* ;) - just Toji fucking you dumb, lol - mention of drool and tears. wc: 1.6k

What should've happened today was Toji enjoying a night to himself because tonight he's seeing a client he hadn't seen in a long while. Nothing wrong with spending an afternoon with an old acquaintance, specifically when it entails a good night of getting his dick wet for a thick sum of cash. Besides, he planned on seeing you afterward — his little sweet thing — stopping by your place and spending the night.

It's funny, isn't it? He met you because of this little hustle of his, and here he is fawning over you like some dumb schoolboy. It makes him feel a bit of a wimp, catching feelings for a customer? That's rookie moves. But he couldn't care less; long as he gets to see your darling smile and fuck the ever-loving shit out of you once per week, all is good in the books.

Seeing and swooping you off your feet later tonight is what was supposed to happen. That's all he was thinking about exiting the hotel room after his client left and paid for his services as promised. So, why the hell were you the first person he saw out of the room? Your face utterly petrified when you turn to see him with another man's arm dropped over your shoulders. A familiar man — another playboy who seemed elated to be around with you. Toji could assume the worst from what he was seeing. Oh, hell no.

What happened today was meant to be kept between two people — you and this new playboy. It came out of fucking nowhere when your friends crowding you about this "new guy in town," elucidating how handsome and pretty the guy is and how great he was in bed ("I'm telling you, Y/n, you really outta try him out!" "No, for real though. Like, here's a pic of him we took right after he ate me out! Don't you think he has the most gorgeous eyes~?"). You had to admit the young man was charming, but that didn't necessarily mean you wanted to do anything explicit with him. So, why did your friends schedule a night with him for you!?? Still puzzled over the fact, you can't seem to answer.

Regardless, you did have sex with another guy today — another Gioglo at that. It wasn't anything serious between you two, just casual sex for money. Plus, it was a pleasure to hang out with him, as the guy seemed fun to be around! Even with his dark shades on, the brightest thing was his dashing smile. However, a deep part of yourself felt guilt over the charade because you haven't had services with anyone else other than Toji. Sure, you and the older man aren't in a labeled relationship outside of an escort and his client. But still, he's the only man you've been intimate with. He's the only one who knows your body more than you, what you like, and how to turn you on. You were his favorite after all.

To be in the hold of another man just felt wrong...That's why your eyes go wider than golf balls when you unexpectedly bump into him when leaving your hotel room with your new one-night stand. Oh, fucking shit...

It all happened relatively quick. One moment, Toji snatches your wrist and pulls you off the young playboy, having you follow his storming march to the hotel room he just left. The next moment, you're gasping for dear life with Toji propping you against a wall, his head buried between your legs dangled on his shoulders, and his mouth ravishing your soaked folds.

"Ahhh!!Ahhhh!! Toji, too fast, please st—Ohooo!!!"

"Shut the fuck up," he says coldly, giving your clitoris a light bite before giving it a slow lick. You jerk and shiver at the tease. "Stay still, or I'm droppin' ya."

Toji smacks on your chasm, a scream leaving your lips, and you just know the others next door heard. And a pinch to your clit results in incoherent babbles, drool pooling in your mouth drips down your chin.

It doesn't stop there. All your clothes discarded to the floor, he has you pinned on the bed by your shoulders, your legs trapped between his, and his pelvis hammering down on you. Forced wails erupt from your throat with every hash rut to the ass, your slit clamping onto him with every graze to your sweet spots. You grip the sheets from his vigorous pace, tears coursing down your hot face and staining the cream cotton pillowcase.

"...Ahhhaaa!!Nnmmph!! Ohhhhfuckingshiiiiit!!" It isn't the first you've had Toji drill his cock into you with a harsh cadence. Yet, with how each fierce and snappy thrust turns your mind to mush, being pinned to the mattress as your breath gets snatched away, you knew long before that what Toji was doing to you was different than all the other times you've had sex. A lot more aggressive — a lot more deadly.

And the older man doesn't falter at all, nope. If anything, your cries only fuel his drive even more, a grin lifting his scar on the right of his lip. "Hmm, what's wrong, baby? Not fast 'nough for ya?" You open your mouth, but your words are comprised of euphoric wails. Ticked, Toji smacks your ass, and a yelp escapes your sore body. He comes down to your ear while grinding his hips on your ass, choked shrieks are muffled by the pillow. "Hey, I'm talkin'. Hmm? You thinkin' bout that other fucker's dick inside ya, huh? He fuck ya real hard like this?"

"N-Nmmm....Noooo, I—OhhhhJesusssss...."

"You what?" A sharp thrust to your chasm prompts you to howl and your eyes roll back, too fucked out of your mind to know how loud you are. "Heh, y're lookin' real stupid right now. I bet you can't think a fuckin' thing with my dick in—Mmmm! fuck....Grippin' on me hard, actin' like a real whore, princess." More abrupts hits to your ass as his nails dig to your bare shoulders; the pain coincide with the pleasure you're experiencing has you seeing stars.

He fucks you like this for what feels like an hour, your ass and pussy hot from the constant contact of his pelvis and balls smacking deep into you. The feeling of his dick being practically the only thing rotting your mind.

But you don't get rest just yet, though. Towards the end, the sun is completely down, the city lights are displayed from the hotel window, and your ecstatic moans still fill the room. Your back is to his chest, your legs pulled back to your chest by his arms and forcing you in a headlock, while his intense ruts return and his cock churns your spongey insides. Here is where you've given up restraining yourself, letting Toji use your body as his plaything, tears and drool painting your face into a gorgeous mess.

"....Ohhoooo, Ahhhoooo—Hmmmm," your brain is too long gone to think proper sentences, your mouth sprouting out nonsense. It all humors the man beneath you, his gruff chuckles vibrating your back balanced on his chest. "Soooo deeep — sosodeeeep..."

"Feelin' good there, mama?" You only respond with a euphoric hum, another snicker from the older man. "Too fucked outta're mind to answer me. Lettin' another man touch this pussy; you take dick from everybody, huh. What a fuckin' slut..." He pushes his length upward to your hole. Come leaking from you, and a white ring around the base of his dick is evidence of your session. "Hnngh! But I made ya like that..."

"....Fuuuuck, Tojiiiii, don't stooop!!" You cry out to him with gritted teeth, your haze only worsening with his cock brushing up on your G- spot precisely. "Ohhhhhh, right there, right thereeee!!"

"Mmmph—Ohhhh shit," the way your cunt contracts around him almost makes him give in to another orgasm, biting on your shoulder to compose himself. "....Shit, shit, shit, so fuckin' tight, baby...."

The hot air and thick musk of your buddies get to your head, your head ringing and pounding. Screams grow higher with every stroke, and the cold shivers crawl up your spine. It's almost here. "Toji, Tojiii, I'm gonna cumm—hic—sooocloseee!!"

Toji sneers once more. "Yeah, you are. Cumming is all y'r pretty, dumb brain can think about." And with that, his pace increases speed, drilling your walls with his veiny girth. It all electrifies your nerves, your breathing off the rails, and your climax slapping you hard with the deep thrusts he gives you.

With a cloudy mind and a mindless smile, your slit flutters on Toji's length beautifully. Too enraptured with the blissful sensation to worry about the spit streaming down your puffy lips. And it doesn't take long for Toji to be under the same spell as you, his rhythm falling back with the spill of his load inside you. His brows trenched while pumping into you, his balls pulsing with your velvet walls.

Heaving bodies soon fall into a tranquil state, your breathing finding its way into a steady flow. Finally, Toji permits your body and mind to relax from his relentless hold, releasing your body from the full nelson and gently sliding your tired body next to his.

He wipes the saliva from your mouth with the back of his hand, his hooded jade eyes never leaving your fatigued ones. "Hehe, sorry 'bout that, baby. You just feel too good to share."

You purr into his touch, his hand cupping your cheek. "Too good that you'd break my ass?" He barks an exhausted laugh at your remark, a tired giggle fleeing your lips.

"For you, I'd break anyone else that thinks they can have you." Toji kisses your temple.

"And my ass?"

"...Only if I'm the one breakin' it." You playfully hit his abs, and another laugh leaves the older man before you two sleep in each other's warmth.

want more like this? plz send me more thirsts ♡

[martialartslover7]

Unpopular opinion incoming: ...Why do NaruHina fans even like The Last?

Unironically, I really want to know why, because, I am a huge NaruHina shipper myself, and even still, this movie never fails to aggrevate me in the worst way possible, even now, not even getting angry or anything, but... I just feel empty. I feel nothing. Not even the kiss made it worth, and I am HUGE sucker for sappy romances from time to time. Hell, I am a romance author, as a hobby. But this movie, it legit felt like, I just wasted my freaking time. That's a far worse sensation than getting mad, because, I just got nothing smart to say about it.

So, let me get this straight, and I am pretty sure, I am speaking of behalf of anyone that even remotely supports these two as one: The series NEVER making Naruto acknowledge Hinata's confession, was just damned moronic, even from a writing standpoint, because, yeah, in Japanese, it can mean two different things when you say "I love you", I know that, it might just mean "I love you as a teammate", but honestly, considering that NaruHina, by this point, was always meant, even according to Kishimoto, in hindsight, not acknowledging this moment for years to come, until the movie had to speak up about it: You lost the plot. If it was always meant to happen, why did you write it in a way as if Naruto straight up ignored everything she said?

And listen, I know, Naruto is a really delayed mofo, but the movie tried to paint it as if, "Naruto is a dense idiot, who isn't in touch with his own feelings, so you have to put him in a Genjutsu to """see the depths of her feelings for him"""", but honestly, to me, this just felt like a really convenient excuse to just regress Naruto as a person, just so the ship can happen, essentially, "guilt-tripping" him into going, "Ohhh, Hinata always had feelings for me, I didn't notice, even though she risked her life". Again, again, again, none of the events would even bother me so much, if it weren't for the undeniable fact: Somehow, during Shippuden, they tried to make it seem "ambigious", by not addressing her confession, EVER. Like, almost as if, Sakura was meant to be "the final option, because of Kushina", but it was clearly bullshit, and the movie wasn't subtle on that front either. But then, WHY WASN'T IT BROUGHT UP? WHY DID NARUTO NOT SAY ANYTHING?

And before any of you stupid motherfuckers are going to accuse me of being a "closeted NaruSaku shipper", I am not. These two simply wouldn't have ever worked out in the long run, for one thing, because I am not a fan of this trope, of the girl always needing to use violence, on an already traumatized individual (not to mention, that being played for laughs, which also rubs me the wrong way, especially in regards to comic relief characters), and him just going with it, which, by the way, isn't very realistic at all, as to why Naruto never got cross with Sakura at one point or another (one can of worms, I want to talk about some other time), and secondly, c'mon now, look at these two. They are more siblings than anything. As if, two different halves and shades of Kushina live inside the two of them, individually.

Not to mention, why are you NaruHina fans so comfortable with pardoning bad writing, brushing it off as if it's "deeper than you think"? Because, I just can't see it any other way, both Naruto and Hinata were frankly OOC in this movie, considering, this is all supposed to take place after the war. I can forgive Naruto being an idiot, who is slow on the draw, but straight up going "he is just dense", is frankly retarded, considering, we are talking about the equivalent to ninja Jesus Christ with him here, who basically loves everyone like family (safe for the villains), but then comes Hinata, he confesses first, but somehow "he is dense"? Why do we even need a fucking Genjutsu for all this? Doesn't he remember a person he truly loved like her, of ALL people? So we are left with having to rely on made-up flashbacks, which never even happened in the original series (only in Shippuden, late-game), and a contrived plot device, that comes in the name of "Otsutsuki"?

On that note, I really do not like what this movie did with Hinata. Look, "Toneri was messing with her chakra", even if that were true, it doesn't change anything, because it's still an excuse to make her another damsel in distress for Naruto to save. I get it, Hinata is not like Naruto in that, she bears his battle attributes, but sheesh, man, are you really fine with regressing her back to the Genin, who can't even run down walls to save her life? This is a mess, I really cannot approve of this, Hinata is way stronger than that, and we all know it, this just isn't acceptable to me. I want my couple dynamic to be evenly distributed to feel absolutely comfortable.

And this is acceptable to you all? I call it, for what it is: Terrible writing. Stitched together with convenient excuses, just to have the ship happen somehow, in an artificial way, despite having criminal lack of shared screentime together, non-canon content excluded, by the way (I am sorry, I have to be consistent here).

With all this knowledge, the movie comes off as a truly cringeworthy attempt to try appeasing to us, who love these two together. The sappy music, the "larger-than-life" presentation, the overt reliance on spectacle, rather than substance, is just making this experience even worse for me.

Peace.

P.S.: This is just my silly, personal opinion, if you love this movie, more power to you. But to me, this is one of those pieces of media that genuinely make me feel miserable.

[sunny374940]

Love is stored in the hat

Hello yes I am back with another piece of domestic fluff with Emmrich and Rook. This time there is snow and knitted hats. 1.2k words.

................

Rook came down into the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. It was already light outside, made all the brighter by the snow that fell in the night. Rook looked out of the window blearily and said: “Ugh,” with pronounced disgust.

"I find the snow rather beautiful,” said Emmrich from his seat at the kitchen table. “Where is this distaste for the beauty of nature coming from, I wonder?”

“It's coming from the five inches of the beauty of nature I'm going to have to shovel off of the path to the house,” grumbled Rook. “Neve and Lucanis are coming along later in today, remember? I don't want them slogging through the snow with the baby.”

“Oh, of course!” Emmrich clapped his hands in excitement. “I was so caught up in admiring the view that I forgot they are coming today. How I’m looking forward to meeting the little one!”

“Yeah,” Rook smiled softly. “So I’m heading out, gotta get it over with.” He turned to get himself ready to go outside.

“Rook, wait!” Emmrich called, “I have something for you before you go out to brave the elements.”

“I'm just shovelling snow, not going out in a blizzard,” Rook chuckled, but waited for Emmrich to cross the hallway and enter his study.

“Just a moment, my dear, I promise you will find this handy,” said Emmrich while rummaging through a drawer.

“Now where did I-” he muttered under his breath. “Aha! There it is!” he said triumphantly as he pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper.

“I meant to save this for your birthday, but with the snow coming early I think it's better I give it to you now,” he said, proffering it to Rook. “I know how you hate the cold, so I thought this would make our first winter here a bit easier.”

Rook took the package from Emmrich's outstretched hands, brushing a thumb against the back of Emmrich's hand in thanks. He opened the package and there sat a knitted hat and gloves, both in a blue the shade of the sky on a frosty day. He looked at Emmrich in wonder.

“You made these?”

“Yes, it is rather obvious, isn't it?” said Emmrich, a blush creeping onto his cheekbones.

“I am not as skilled at knitting as I would like. See, Lucanis gave me some pointers and then Harding's mother lent me an amazingly detailed volume on knitting just about anything, but the instructions proved rather more complicated than I anticipated and-”

Rook interrupted him with a light touch to his forearm. “No, Emmrich, they’re beautiful! Thank you, really. I just didn't expect the necromancer and alchemist to also knit,” he grinned teasingly.

Rook took the hat out to admire it properly. The wool was soft under his fingers and the care that went into making the hat made his heart stutter. “Did you learn to knit just to make these for me?”

"Well, I did try to procure a hat for you by means that didn't involve nearly taking my eye out with a knitting needle, but I couldn't find anything good enough. And then I saw this yarn and it was just the right shade for you, so I had no choice, really.”

“That explains why I had to untangle Manfred from a string that was exactly this colour the other day,” chuckled Rook.

Emmrich pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew Manfred must have made off with some of the yarn. He was so interested in the process of knitting and kept trying to take the yarn when he thought I wasn't looking.”

“I suppose you weren't looking all that well,” Rook laughed. “He had a whole tangle of it on his forearm, I guess he was trying to do it like you. Kept saying purr purr, not sure what that was about.”

Emmrich rolled his eyes fondly. “I suspect he heard me talking to myself while I was working, he probably meant to say purl. His enunciation still needs some work, I must say.”

Rook put the hat on and turned to look at himself in the hallway mirror. “Wow, it looks really good, Emmrich. I love it. And you. But that goes without saying, I guess.”

He turned back to Emmrich to give him a peck on the cheek.

“I never tire of hearing it, my love. You look beautiful. The blue really brings out your eyes,” Emmrich said with a warm smile.

“And now I must go, pray for my safe return,” said Rook, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead theatrically.

“Your wish is my command. I shall also make you tea to battle the demons of cold,” Emmrich replied with a bow and a press of his lips to the back of Rook’s hand.

“Don’t forget your gloves, dearest,” he said as he handed them to Rook.

Rook put the gloves on and wiggled his fingers at Emmrich, then walked outside to get a damn shovel.

After an hour, during which Emmrich heard lots of scraping and the occasional curse coming from wherever Rook was attacking the heaps of snow, Rook came back through the front door, stomping the last of the snow off his boots. His cheeks were red from the cold and his teeth were chattering.

“Hate the fucking snow,” he mumbled through the shivers.

“Come, darling, sit by the fire,” said Emmrich as he led Rook to an armchair in their living room. There was a blanket ready and a steaming mug of tea was sitting on the coffee table alongside some cookies.

Rook gratefully sank into the armchair and allowed himself to be fussed over. The mug of tea was placed in his hands and he took a sip. The tea was just the way he liked it, black with a generous amount of honey and he felt himself relaxing under Emmrich's care.

“Really, dear, you should wrap up better next time, you are freezing cold,” said Emmrich worriedly. “Or maybe we could ask Manfred to assist you, so you could get it done faster-”

Rook interrupted him with a laugh. “There's no way I'm letting Manfred ‘assist me’ with shovelling snow. He will make snow angels, then he'll get damp and you know he creaks when he gets damp.” Rook shuddered.

“I’ve never heard a worse sound and I won’t be causing it on purpose. And before you say anything, no, I’m not letting you help me. Who would make me tea? And hats?”

He looked up at Emmrich through his lashes and added with a coy smile: “And who would kiss me after I come back home to help me warm up?”

Emmrich brought up a hand to caress Rook’s cheek, then drew closer to place a kiss on his forehead. Rook sighed happily and leaned into the touch.

“Oh? If you need warming up so badly, I have read some amazing things about sharing body heat,” said Emmrich with a quirk of his lips. “Care to test if the theories are sound, darling?”

Emmrich extended his hand to Rook, as if to only innocently help him up from the chair, but there was desire burning in his eyes.

Heat shot down to Rook's core and he found himself suddenly very uninterested in his tea.

“I would like that very much, vhenan,” he said as he took the offered hand and allowed himself to be led to the bedroom.

[distant-screaming]

I haven't been able to stop thinking about your Phum's favorite color post (despite how much I already rambled in the tags).

I keep thinking about Phum and his photography, and the thought of him taking pictures to have tangible evidence of the things and people in his life (on the off chance he got taken away again).

Phum who didn't have a favorite color and yet took pictures of the world.

Going off your posts (and my tags), I can't stop thinking about the world seeming brighter to Phum after meeting Peem and as a result his photography becoming more colorful. I said before that Peem brought the colors of the rainbow into Phum's life, but I can't stop thinking about how that is reflected through his photography.

Which led to the thought of Phum's photos being filled with the color blue, after Peem guesses it as his favorite color.

If his photography begins to highlight the beauty of the sky, the water, the blueberry tarts Aunt Pui always has at the cafe, the blue forget-me-nots Tan gets Fang, and the blue paint stains on Peem's hands.

I can't stop thinking about if Phum begins to see love in the color blue.

So, this was a very long and rambly (if that's even a real word) way to say that your post is haunting me in the best way possible.

bestie I'm about to start clawing at the walls like a deranged cat <3 you're sooooo right!!! phum and photography as a way to immortalize memories, phum and photography as a way to have agency over what he sees and remembers, phum and photography as a way to heal. phum and photography that isn't quite one particular style - it's always changing, like looking for something phum doesn't quite have yet.

and then peem brings color and life to phum's photographs and he guesses blue and suddenly phum's camera is drawn to anything of that shade and photos that have blue are always just a bit more warm. BLOWS UP AND DIES FOREVER!!!!! also, there's peem - who is a traditional artist, who loves water, who doesn't always see himself because he's too busy helping others. and then he falls in love with phum and - he sees the way phum sees him through the camera and feels awestruck because in every frame the main focus is him. peem sees the blue in the pictures, and the way the blue is always connected to him. he sees how gorgeous he looks in the pictures, framed by water or the sky or phum's blue sheets. and - peem loves the water but he's never really had a particular affinity for the color blue. it's always meant comfort and stability, but not much more. but then phum starts wearing a bracelet that's blue and he stares at peem's painting of the ocean with something like amazement and - peem starts seeing love in the color too.

and it's like. peem brings color to phum's life but phum is the one who brings peem into focus, the one who points out the color peem spreads so easily. and they make me sick to my stomach what if gay people were real and consuming my every thought what then.

anyway I am so honored that my silly little post is haunting you and I'll do it again if it means I get such gorgeous thoughts in my inbox <33!

[ghouldtime]

i usually don’t message anyone or anything but i just wanted to say i love your characterizations of konig, ghost, and soap very much. the love and appreciation you have for these characters really come through in your writing.

the cod fandom is full of talented writers but the majority of them write smut. it gets tiring scrolling through the tag and just seeing porn when i actually just wanna see… ppl who enjoy the characters outside of sex appeal, yk? so your blog, truly and genuinely, is a breath of fresh air.

that’s not even mentioning the ppl who write them as abusive or use them to fulfill certain fantasies. i mean i don’t kink shame ofc, but idk sometimes ppl write them in extremely degrading ways that do a disservice to their character and it bugs me a little. plus all the “innocent bimbo reader” rhetoric, idk it gets tiring.

anyway, sorry for the yap session, but i did mean everything i said genuinely !!

💚💚💚💚 Salutations anon! You really don't know how much I appreciate hearing this. Seriously, messages like this give me motivation to keep writing and to stay active on here. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU from the very depths of my heart. You've all been so so incredibly kind, sweet, and encouraging 😭 I don't know what I've done to deserve this but it's appreciated and you all are absolutely awesome. This has made my YEAR, thank you for taking time out of your day to send my silly self a message 💚💚💚💚💚

I'm so so happy my characterizations have hit the mark for some people and that I'm (hopefully) doing them some justice! I'm always worried about that because characterization matters heavily to me and I want to respect their characters and how much they mean to me and other people through it EVEN IF THE WRITERS OF THE LAST MODERN WARFARE DON'T KNOW WHAT A PROPER STORY LINE IS AND KILLED SOAP WHICH I'M NOT FORGETTING, IM NOT FORGIVING, AND IM CERTAIN NOT LIVE LAUGH LOVING WITH IT. I'm refusing to accept he's dead, no matter what they say

I love the boys all so much. They all have such interesting things about them and have a lot more dynamic to them than people think and I just want to represent them right, especially lesser appreciated characters (haven't actually really written for them yet but Keegan, Logan, Hesh, Sandman, Roach, Nikto, Krueger - legit I love them, anyone feel free to send asks or scenarios you'd like I WILL write them. Legit, y'all, you can send me asks about certain characters even if there isn't much on them. I WILL do my research and I WILL write to the best of my ability)

Oh there's many talented writers in the COD Fandom, there really are. I can't say I really know any personally seeing as I never really interact with other blogs but I've seen some reallly really nice fics with so much thought put in them. But equally, there's a lot of just... smut. Not even well written smut, I'm sorry, but a lot of it is just really, really poorly written. I'm all for do what you want, write whatever makes you happy. Freedom of speech! If it makes you happy, cool! But I'm also going to cringe cause a lot of it is... yeah, yikes

Not trying to be the smut police and say every detail must be accounted for and everyone should follow it in a certain way but plz basic anatomy 101, basic prep 101, no guy gal or enby pal will appreciate it if you just shove it in to anywhere dry and I've seen a loooot of that and other things that just hurt?????

I get it, people learn by reading/writing, but this is literally just a single search away. And common sense. There's also a lot of practices being unsafely represented (like fifty shades of gray level) and uh it's not on purpose, it's not meant to be dubious, but it just is written as that. PLEEEEASE please please do some research, the internet is right there

But I felt the same way. Like bless whatever y'all want to write, no shame and NO shade to writing smut. I'll probably eventually do it myself again in the future (undecided on that but it'd likely be a side blog if I do and would never be a main focus, I prefer story over smut action. Once again, no shade and no shame to those who don't, to each their own!). Never ever going to full on NSFW mode or only writing that, I'm always always always going to prioritize writing the characters first and trying to get more stories out there about them :D

But I got tired of opening it and all I see is just... smut, smut, more smut, extremely dubious content x 50. And maybe a sprinkle of normal things or fluff here and there. I just don't look in the tags honestly anymore, because so many people just don't properly tag it or give 0 warning at all, not even under a read more, just BAM, unavoidable unless you flat out don't look at the tags at all

There's more to the characters than just being attractive 😭and I love exploring those aspects of them and trying to figure out why they are the way they are

Also I'm ALWAYS going to have an issue with people who fetishize horrible things. When you're actively fantasizing and writing about someone abusing someone else, like flat out abuse, and being incredibly toxic and terrible to someone - just, please talk to a therapist. That's not social commentary, that's not a proper portrayal of real, HORRIBLE things that affect many people and have very real repercussions - that's perpetuating the negative narrative around a lot of struggles and setting it back by instead turning it into something that's treated as attractive. I really fully can elaborate on this and have a whole rant - but it's not cute and it's NEVER cool to fetishize actual, awful awful things that happen to people. Dead dove doesn't excuse you from judgement - especially when it's not even acknowledged. You're just saying you know what you write is probably morally reprehensible. Hey, I'm going to reprehend and won't respect you at all when you write awful things just cause and get off on it. Think people forget that. Dead dove is a descriptor and doesn't excuse you or make you instantly free from judgement or mean you're not doing something problematic/disgusting. It's just saying you know it is, that's about it.

I don't get why people do that when it's clear they have no idea what they're talking about. I've seen that a lot with the bully! Things. Like... wow, clearly some of you WEREN'T bullied and you're writing about it and it shows because if you were, hey, you know how fucking awful that shit is and how it leaves life long effects. Not saying this applies to all but there's a lot I see like that where it's just ".... wow, okay, so you don't have any idea what you're talking about, cool."

AND YEAH the mischaracterization really does do a great disservice where it's clear they're just after the characters for their physique. They just warp them so bad it's like "Are we talking about the same character?" . In AUs you get to explore that and can shape them to your wants, that's your choice! Highly recommend AU's, it allows so much freedom.

But when it's like.... regular? And it's just no where close and they're doing a 180 in how they actually are (like having Ghost flirt with strangers and be big scary daddy dom im sorry he's not at allllll) I don't get it and it's clear you really aren't writing about or for the character - at that point, plz, make your own characters. Just make your own OCs, it's great! And you can make them HOWEVER you want instead of just ignoring a character's characterization to make them fit what you want. And guess what? It's your character so you can TRULY do what you want and have them the way that you want instead of bending characters to fit a box that they weren't made for

I'm not saying you HAVE to write a character the same as me or in a specific way, but when it's a character with an established personality/backstory, the least you can do is follow that outside of AU's if you're writing for them. That's... the whole point of writing that character - I don't get why you'd write for them specifically if you're literally going to ignore everything about them

SPEAKING OF THE INNOCENT BIMBO THING, I'm also really not a fan. Once again, if that makes you happy to write or read, cool! I just am NOOOOT a fan. Why does the reader always have to be so small and so delicate and so pure/innocent? Why does the reader have to be just so UWU coded? Why are they always like "oh you're so little and small :( and just don't know any better" . It's either that or they're John fucking Wick with little in between. Pleeeease it hurts my soul

Its why I try to genuinely write a neutral geared reader with reactions that will likely fit a lot of people! I'm always taken out of a story's immersiveness when it mentions something like like your hair length or how uwu small you are in comparison. Give me just... average sensible reader. Give me reader who has realistic human reactions. Give me reader who isn't perfect, give me a reader who isn't magically special or different. Give me a reader who is just doing their best, who is THEMSELVES, with no intent otherwise. I love those fanfics so so much instead of trying to feel like I have to be something I'm not to get myself in the mindset to read some pieces NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR YAPPING. IM ALWAYS WANTING TO TALK IM ALWAYS AROUND 💚💚💚💚THANK YOU FOR THE MESSAGE IT MAKES MY HEART WARM AND MAKES ME SO SO HAPPY

[princessfbi]

hi! how about 9 or 14 from the prompt list, if they inspire 🩵

14. Person A idly playing with Person B's hair while they sleep

Eddie isn't surprised Buck passed out. He'd driven them and the Jeep full of wedding supplies all across town to pick up every little detail that they could possibly need for every single scenario that could ever happen while single handedly stressing out more than bride and groom combined.

Honestly, it was a miracle they made it to the hotel in one piece with Eddie offering to drive several times even with his arms full of cake for the rehearsal dinner because Buck's knuckles had gone bloodless by how tightly he'd been gripping the steering wheel. But with their packages delivered and Maddie and Chimney spending some much needed alone time before dinner, Eddie had been able to convince Buck that it would be good to unplug in their room for a few hours and let the wedding planner take care of the rest.

So after everything, Eddie wasn't surprised Buck had passed out. What had surprised him had been the sight of the one king bed that greeted them when they keyed into their room. They'd been booked for two beds. Two separate beds with a healthy space in between them. Not one massive bed in the center of the room with a pile of pillows stacked in the center for sharing. It could've been nothing or it could've been the single thing to finally crack Buck's resolve.

Eddie had turned to Buck half expecting his eye to twitch but Buck had just slumped and turned to Eddie with a shrug.

"I don't think I can walk all the way back down to the lobby," Buck had confessed, sounding exhausted. "Do you..."

He trailed off and Eddie's neck went a little warm when he knew what that meant.

He'd cleared his throat and made a valiant effort of appearing unbothered as he shrugged back. "I don't care if you don't."

Which had been all the permission Buck needed to face plant on the bed. Eddie was pretty sure he'd been out before his shoes even hit the ground after Buck kicked them off.

So, no. Eddie wasn't surprised Buck had passed out. And stayed passed out even as Eddie eventually slipped onto his side of the bed and pulled up his phone to occupy his time until he had to rouse Buck to get ready for dinner.

But another thing that had surprised him had been how one minute, Buck had been dead to the world, and the next, he'd somehow pressed himself up against Eddie's side.

Eddie didn't even think Buck had even really woken up in the process, scrunching and burrowing until he'd pressed his face into Eddie's hip and settled. Eddie had sort of froze, lifting his brows as he stared down at the way Buck's hand had tucked up between them until his fingers were shoved under Eddie's thigh like he was seeking the warmth of his skin.

He probably had been. Buck was notoriously cold blooded with the way he'd shiver even in the shade. Which meant it didn't mean anything. Buck had been tired and stressed and cold and somehow he'd unconsciously sought out Eddie in his sleep because Eddie was safe and warm and steady and so hopelessly head over heels for his best friend, it was pathetic.

That part wasn't a surprise.

The way Eddie's chest brightened and bloomed with another kind of warmth when Buck had practically melted against him when Eddie's fingers had given in to the temptation and combed through his curls hadn't been a surprise either.

What was maybe the biggest surprise of them all had been when Eddie didn't stop petting Buck's hair. He'd tried. He'd tried really hard, curling his hand into a fist in his lap to keep his fingers to himself. But every once in a while, Buck would twitch and jerk and Eddie's fingers drifted back until he was carding through those curls and Buck would settle once again.

Send Me There's Only One Bed Prompts

[neoyi-backstreetback]

Character Bingo! Sea of Stars Trio!

Zale

Valere

Garl

I'mma be real: Zale and Valere don't particularly interest me. Their background as Solstice warriors, as Chosen Ones, stuck and raised into a life that they roughly have no choice in on, and the serious ramification is one worthy of exploring. But it's not really something particular to them. They're directly affected by it by the likes of Erlina and Brugaves and the cult-like structure of the Solstice Warrior program is even more interesting when you realize WHO started it (and how much the game hints of his hypocrisy), but that specific plot detail - that very interesting aspect - is not a decision either makes. And this isn't a criticism; it's clear Zale and Valere stick to their role and embrace it proudly in spite of its faults, because they genuinely believe both a sense of duty and hope for the world. A lot of the latter is the direct result of having Garl in their lives, who shows them how beautiful and worthy the world is that they would willingly go out of their way to protect. That's wonderful. ...But it just isn't as fascinating to me as the Solstice Warriors who denounced it. If Erlina and Brugaves had been the main protags, I think my interest would have shot up even more. Coupled that with Sabotage's decision to keep their personalities limited in order for players to invest themselves in, then you got a pair of characters I admittedly don't really vibe with. There's a reason why I prefer the personality-stuffed Luigi versus the Everyman Mario. While Zale and Valere do have shades of specific individuality, in the end, they're both the Everyman. I guess if I had to pick which one I like slightly better, it's Valere purely on the bias that I usually pick the girl in a playable video game setting (it's what happens when you grew up as a girl in the 90s where games were considered "boy things" back in the day) and her character design being slightly better (I love her hair, it's lovely.) Sorry, Zale, you are a nice kid and I legit have no ill will toward you, but you're, uh, kinda bottom-tier in the SoS Favorite Playable Character List with Valere somewhat being in mid-tier, but just barely (purely in terms of character; obviously in gameplay, the both of them are invaluable.)

"The Fandom is so mean" for Garl is more the fact that I noticed he has a mixed reception. You either love him because he is a sweet, kind, and determined young man who genuinely loves helping and living life to the fullest (I am in this camp: I love him, he is wonderful and if anything happens to him again, I will throw hands)... Or you hate him because he overtakes the position of main character from Zale and Valere. Which is understandable. The latter two were meant to be fill-ins for players to interpret, but I won't lie that having a silent protagonist as purely a blank versus two characters who have hints of personalities and yet still designed for players to project onto is a little clumsy. It's also a lot more noticeable when you have TWO characters who are essentially the Everyman type versus the one (where you, the singular player, would roughly insert yourself into their shoes.) So I get that, but never let it be said Sabotage did not do this on purpose, mixed they may be.