#I've scrolled back to one year ago today

[blujayonthewing]

my dad: oh I thought you were playing dnd like twice a week, you’re always doing art of your adventures and stuff

looking back through my patreon: [doodles based on something funny Justin said the other day] [noncanon crossovers] [sketch from a one-on-oneshot, a month after playing it] [sketches of a character I haven’t played in two calendar years] [sketches of things that happened at the beginning of 5+ year running campaigns] [costume designs] [memes]

#I was bemoaning how little dnd there's been outside the family campaign and he fuckin knocked me sideways with this #I've scrolled back to one year ago today #and in all the art I've posted there are exactly four that a) are things that canonically happened while playing dnd #and b) I drew not less than a year after they actually happened #naw dude all the other shit is me makin stuff up or riffing on Justin and I doing extracurricular RP for funsies #I've edited it to this but I just remembered he actually guessed we were playing TWICE a WEEK #MY BROTHER IN CHRIST YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN I'VE BEEN PLAYING DND! YOU WERE THERE!!! #that's the ONLY campaign that's running these days and that's pretty dire considering it gets cancelled like a full third of the time #about me #irl frens #(more or less) #my art

[odinsblog]

“I first started noticing the journalists dying on Instagram. I'm a journalist, I'm Arab, and I've reported on war. A big part of my community is other Arab journalists who do the same thing.

And when someone dies, news travels fast. Recently, I pulled up the list that the Committee to Protect Journalists has been keeping and looked at it for the first time. There are 95 journalists and media workers on it as of today.

Almost everyone on it is Palestinian. Scrolling through, I started to get angry. These were the people carrying the burden of documenting this whole war.

Israel is not allowing foreign journalists into Gaza, except on rare occasions with military escorts. These people's names are being buried in a giant list that keeps growing. What I want to do is lift some of them off the list for a moment and give you a glimpse of who they were and the work they made.

I'll start with Sadi Mansour. Sadi was the director of Al-Quds News Network, and he posted a 22-second video on November 18. That was a report from the war, but it also gave me a picture into his marriage.

Sadi's wearing his press vest and looks exhausted. He's explaining that cell service and the Internet keep getting cut off, and it's often impossible to text or call anyone, including his wife. So they've resorted to using handwritten letters to communicate while he's out reporting, sending them back and forth with neighbors or colleagues.

He ends the video with a picture of one of these letters from his wife. In it, she writes,

‘Me and the kids stayed up waiting for you until the morning, and you didn't come home. We were really sad.

I kept telling the kids, Look, he's coming. But you didn't show up. May God forgive you.

Come home tomorrow and eat with us. Do you want me to make you kebab or maybe kapse? Bring your friends with you, it's okay.

And give Azeez the battery to charge. What do you think about me sending you handwritten letters with messenger pigeons from now on? Ha ha ha.

I'm just kidding. I want to curse at you, but we're living in a war. Too bad.

Okay, I love you. Bye.’

A few hours after he shared that letter, Sadie and his co-worker Hassouna Saleem were at Sadie's home, when they were killed by an Israeli air strike that hit his house.

His wife and kids, who weren't there, survived.

Gaza is tiny, and the journalist community is really close. Reading the list, you can see all the connections between people. Like with Brahim Lafi.

Brahim was a photojournalist, one of the first journalists to die. He was killed while reporting on October 7. He was just 21, still new to journalism.

On his Instagram, you can see that in his posts just a few years ago, he was still practicing his photography, taking pictures of coffee cups and flowers. Then he started doing beautiful portraits and action shots. You can really feel him starting to become a journalist.

Clicking around on Instagram, I found a tribute post about Brahim from his co-worker Rushdie Sarraj. In this photo, Brahim staring intently at the back of a camera, his face lit up by the light from the viewfinder. He looks so young.

The caption reads, My assistant is gone. Brahim is gone. Rushdie himself was a beloved journalist and filmmaker.

And I know that because he's also on the list. He was killed just two weeks after Brahim. I read the tribute post to him too.

I saw this over and over again. Journalists posting tributes, who were then killed themselves soon after. And a tribute goes up for them.

And then the pattern continues.

Thank you.

Something else I saw over and over on the list, journalists later in the war who had become aware that they could be making their last reports. They'd say it at the beginning of their videos. And those were the hardest to watch, especially when it was true.

One video like that was posted by Ayat Hadduro. Ayat was a freelance journalist and video blogger. Her videos before the war covered a wide range from what I can tell, interviews about women in politics.

She even appeared in a commercial for ketchup-flavored chips. She clearly liked being in front of the camera. Once the war started, Ayat's pivoted to covering bombings and food shortages.

On November 20, she posted a video report from her home. You can hear the airstrikes hitting very close to where she is. It's scary.

‘This is likely my last video. Today, the occupation forces dropped phosphorus bombs on Beit Lahya area and frightening sound bombs. They dropped letters from the sky, ordering everyone to evacuate.

Everyone ran into the streets in the craziest way. No one knows where to go.

But everyone else has evacuated. They don't know where they're going. The situation is so scary.

What's happening is so tough, and may God have mercy on us.’

She was killed later that day.

Targeting journalists, in case you didn't know, is a war crime. So far, the Committee to Protect Journalists has found that three of the journalists on the list were explicitly targeted by the IDF, the Israeli military. Investigations by the Washington Post and Reuters, Human Rights Watch and the United Nations have also raised serious questions in these three cases.

And the Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating 10 other killings. When we reached out to the IDF for comments, they said, quote, the IDF has never, and will never, deliberately target journalists. That's the answer they always give in these situations.

Meanwhile, dozens of seasoned reporters have fled Gaza. Journalists who worked for Al Jazeera, the BBC, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Reuters, Agence France-Presse. So many media offices were demolished in Israeli airstrikes that the Committee to Protect Journalists stopped counting.

It's not just individual lives that have been destroyed. It's an entire infrastructure.

Thank you.

The name on the list that was hardest for me to look at was Issam Abdullah, because I'd crossed paths with him once. Issam was a Lebanese journalist, a video journalist for Reuters for many, many years. He had just won an award for coverage of Ukraine.

I'm Lebanese and still report there sometimes, and I'd worked with Issam a couple of summers ago. He helped me film a sort of random story in Beirut. I was interviewing this entrepreneur who had started a sperm freezing company after an accident where he spilled a tray of hot coffee on his private area, burning himself.

I know, ridiculous. It was a really silly shoot. Right after we said cut and started to rap, Issam started this whole bit about being in his late 30s, reconsidering his own sperm quality and everything he now realized he was doing to hurt it, and no one could stop laughing.

It was a really good day that felt good to remember and to remember him that way. Issam was killed by the IDF on October 13. His death was one of the three that the Committee to Protect Journalists has identified as a targeted killing.

He was fired upon by an Israeli tank while standing in an empty field on the Lebanon-Israel border with a small group of other journalists. Everyone was wearing press vests with cameras out. They were covering the Hezbollah part of this war.

A few other journalists were injured in the attack, which was captured on video. The IDF says they were responding to firing from Hezbollah, not targeting the journalists. But multiple investigations, including by Reuters, the United Nations, Amnesty International and the AFP, found no evidence of any firing from the location of the journalists before the IDF shot at them.

The journalists in the group and video footage confirmed that there was no military activity near them. I had only met Issam once, barely knew him, but it affected me so much when he died. I know that he understood the risks of his job, but somehow it still felt so random and unfair that he would be struck down like that, following the rules, wearing his press vest and helmet, and a pack of reporters on a sunny day in an open field.

I find myself thinking about him all the time. His last Instagram post was commemorating another journalist, this iconic reporter Shereen Abou Aql who had been killed by the IDF. When I first saw that post in October, I thought how ironic because a week later, Isam also was killed by the IDF.

But then, after spending time reading the list, I realized how common this had become. I still haven't finished going through the list and looking up the people on it. I keep finding things that stick with me, like the funny way this one radio host would cut off a caller who was rambling on for too long.

A tweet from reporter Al-Abdallah that quoted Sylvia Plath. It read, What ceremony of wars can patch the havoc? I'm going to keep going down the list, even though this story is over now.

Just for myself. My own way of bearing witness. Which is, in the end, all that these journalists were trying to do.”

—DANA BALLOUT, The 95. Dana sifts through a very long list—the list of journalists killed in the Israel-Hamas war, and comes back with five small fragments of the lives of the people on it. Dana is a Lebanese-American, Emmy-nominated documentary producer.

#politics #dana ballout #the 95 #palestine #israel #war crimes #gaza #committee to protect journalists #🇵🇸 #brahim lafi #shereen abou aql #issam abdullah #ayat hadduro #rushdie sarraj #hassouna saleem #sadi mansour

[evie-sturns]

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

summary: it's your special day, your 20th birthday! chris hasn't given you a present all day, and nothing seems to be going to plan, but he makes up for it later.

contains: public sex, smut, fluff, soft dom!chris, swearing, crying.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

8:54am

i wake up to chris planting kisses all over my face, a stupid grin painted across his face.

"chriss.." i groan, rubbing my eyes as i sit up in our double bed.

"happy birthday!!" he says, pulling me by my arms up onto the floor, im so unstable i stumble over.

my birthday has always been my favorite day of the year, everyones attention were on me, it was just going to be a stress-free day with my friends, my boyfriend and his brothers.

"shit." chris says, picking me back up, holding me in a bridal position. "you excited!!" he says, placing me back down on my feet

"love you chris." i smile, walking over to the wardrobe and pulling out the outfit ive had planned for days.

ive known chris for 11 years, he was my bestfriend until 1 year ago, when he became my boyfriend.

i strip off my pyjamas, leaving me revealed as i scramble through the shelves to find underwear.

i feel chris's eyes laying on me, "you feel elderly yet?" he says, breaking the comfortable silence.

i scoff "very."

"you look good for how old you are" chris jokes, walking over to my side.

i see his hand reach out, but he pauses instantly when the door rattles. "y/n!" i hear nick call out, i can hear the smile on his face.

"im butt naked right now nick, ill be out in a few!" i call out, chris shakes his head with a grin painted across his face.

"gross." i hear nick say back, slightly quieter this time.

"nick its 9 in the morning what do you take me for!" i say, pulling up my skirt, and readjusting my tanktop. i get on my toes, planting a kiss on chris's nose before unlocking the door.

im met with nick, a bunch of balloons in hand with matt standing next to him. their face light up as they see me.

"you're looking kinda wrinkly.." matt says, pulling me into a hug.

"do i actually look old cause you're the second person to point out my 'aging'" i ask, nick handing me the balloons

-

12:06pm

nick, matt, chris, madi, nate and i have been hanging around the sturniolos house for the day, i've spent the majority of the morning laughing, until a pile of wrapped presents from my friends appears in front of me.

i open them all, thanking whoever gifted it to me with a hug.

chris doesn't give me one though?

i brush it off, maybe he just forgot.

to make things worse, ive just been told madi and nate were both scheduled to leave at 1, both needing to go to nates final ice hockey game, which the sturniolos and i were going to skip.

"oh fuck, we better go madi." nate says, jumping up off the couch and grabbing his keys. madi's sighs before leaning down, squeezing me in a hug. my heart sinks a little, today was meant to be a day with my friends.

"love you y/n, we'll update you about what happens later!" they call out before the door swings shut.

-

ive been sitting on my bed for 2 hours, scrolling aimlessly on my phone as chris sits on the other side of the room at his desk in silence, the faint clicking noise from his keyboard filling the room.

today was meant to be perfect.

i feel my throat dry up as i let out a shaky breath.

ive never cried on my birthday, i've always been too distracted to even think about getting upset, but now, when today has just felt normal, the tears are building up.

i mean, it hasnt been a bad day. its just been too regular.

i feel a few tears fall down my cheeks as i stare at chris's back.

i try my best to stay silent, but a broken sob exits my mouth, i slam a hand over my lips. chris's head snaps back to look at me, his face drops. "oh shit.." chris mumbles before speed-walking over to me, throwing himself down onto the bed to face me.

the tears won't stop now, even with my failed attempts to make excuses up to chris.

"sweetheart please don't cry." chris says softly, holding me in a tight hug as my eyes dampen his shoulder. "talk to me gorgeous, i know you love your birthday you shouldn't be crying yeah?"

"i dont know.." i say in between sobs, chris stays silent, he knows im lying.

"i just wanted it to be perfect.." i sniff, chris rubs my back.

"can i show you something..?" chris says awkwardly, pulling away from the hug. my eyebrows furrow, "okay..?" i say. chris grabs my hands, pulling me up out of bed. he leans down and grabs a sweater from the floor, putting it on my body before taking my hand again.

he walks us downstairs in silence, he seems nervous. chris opens the front door, we walk towards his car and he opens the door to let me in. "ladys first.." he says, trying to lighten the mood.

-

we've been driving for about 3 minutes before chris breaks the silence, "i was meant to take you here later but.. you know." he says, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel.

i nod, chris accelerates slightly as we drive up a hill, we suddenly come to a halt. chris clears his throat, as he turns off the car.

we're parked in a small parking lot on top of a hill, theres trees directly infront of us, the sunset just peeking through the leaves. chris grabs my hand gently, "uh chris?" i ask, he just kisses my lips "shh."

we go through the trees until we they stop, my jaw drops, theres a small picnic blanket, some flowers layed on it along with a note.

its the same spot where me and chris kissed eachother for the first time, 4 years ago.

chris has never been the romantic type, he finds it 'yuck' apparently.

"chris oh my god.." i say, chris is fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants. i sit down on the picnic blanket, with a groan chris sits down next to me.

"i think this is the sweetest thing anyones done for me.." i say, wrapping my arms around him.

chris shakes his head "shut upp..." he smiles.

"no seriously, i might cry again right now."

"don't you dare." chris says with a small laugh.

a comfortable silence grows between us as the sunsets, i break it after a few minutes.

"we should fuck."

"what?" chris says, his head snapping round to look at me.

"no just think about it, 4 years ago we had our first kiss here, so we should hook up here!" i say, concealing my laugh.

"i meannn whatever you want" chris says, trying not to seem as eager as he actually is.

i pull off my shirt, discarding it on the picnic blanket. theres trees behind us, and a cliff infront of us, its pretty private.

chris helps my shorts off, before laying me down softly on my back, he places his hoodie down under my head as a pillow. "you comfy?" he asks, spreading my legs open wider. i nod, chris pulls down his sweatpants and boxers in one motion, his erection springing out.

he smiles, holding my waist with two hands and lining himself up with me, "ready?" he asks, maintaining eye contact. "very." i smile back.

chris presses his tip inside of me, i stretch around his size, reaching out a hand, chris grabs my it.

he finally pushes the whole way into me, a desperate moan escapes my mouth. "such a pretty noise yeah?" chris says, his voice hoarse as he starts to thrust into me, his tip brushing my cervix each time.

strings of moans and whimpers exit my mouth as i squeeze his hand tighter, chris keeps a firm grip on my waist. "so so good for me, squeezing my dick so well." chris groans.

with each thrust, the knot in my stomach becomes tighter, i arch my back off the picnic blanket, "fuck chris oh my god." i yell, "cum for me gorgeous, can feel you clenching..." he says, stumbling over his words.

with a scream of his name the knot in my stomach snaps, chris pulls out, painting my stomach with white streaks. "g-..good girl." chris says, flopping down next to me on the blanket.

-

we've been laying here for the past hour, laughing, talking and watching the moon. the summer air is warm on my bare body, we both couldnt be bothered to get changed just yet.

"you know.." chris says, running a hand through his hair.

"hm?" i ask, looking over to see his face, which is barely illuminated.

"we should make this a traditon, ya know? birthday sex."

---------------------------------———————————-

i really liked writing this, thank you for the request babe

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.6 devil's advocate

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 6/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.7k

a/n. so sorry for the wait! i'm really excited for this chapter, it's one that i've been waiting for since before i even started the series, and it was a lot of fun to write. i hope you enjoooy <3 if there are typos, your mind is just playing tricks on you

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

Life after realizing you had feelings for Gojo Satoru seemed to pass by in slow-motion, as you spent a significant portion of the day consumed by thoughts of him. Although it was against your better judgment, it was nice to have your mind occupied by something that wasn’t career stress, school stress, or financial stress. It’s been a minute since you’ve felt this way about someone, and it was healthy to indulge in some escapism, right? 

You find yourself scrolling through his Instagram page for the second third time today, captivated by the attractive photos of him in his soccer uniform, kicking at the ball with a determined look on his face. Your gaze fixates on the blue follow-back button staring back at you on his page, remembering that you still haven’t followed him back. Pulling your phone away from your line of sight, you glance up at the ceiling, take a deep breath, and swiftly tap the blue button. You clutch your phone to your chest right after, surprised by the butterflies in your stomach, but it’s only ten seconds before you’re back to perusing his photos. 

You sigh dreamily from where you were laid back on your bed. Mina looks up at you from her desk with an irritated expression on her face. 

“What’s with the dreamy sighing every thirty seconds? I’m trying to study here,” she says to you.

You throw her a look. “Oh please, I’ve had to deal with your dreamy sighs every single time you were on the phone with Todo for the past two weeks. You can handle a few of mine.”

Mina’s eyes widen at your words and she turns in her chair to look at you intently. “Wait…who are you dreamily sighing for?”

You blink in response. “Oh, uh. No one? I mean, what’s that one actor’s name–the one in that show we were watching?” You tap your finger to your lip, pretending to be in deep thought, but Mina wasn’t buying any of it since she promptly stood up from her chair and snatched your phone out of your hand. You yelp and sit up on your bed to try and grab it back from her but she has that I was the eldest sibling in my household grip on your phone. 

“Is this…Gojo Satoru’s Instagram page?” she asks, extending your phone out in front of her and tilting her head to the side at the screen, as though she was trying to wrap her head around it.

“Stop! You’ll accidentally tap on something,” you’re squealing at her, arms flailing out in an attempt to grab at your phone. She eventually hands it back to you and you’re sighing with relief before flopping back down onto your bed, fingers eagerly swiping up on the screen to make sure she didn’t accidentally like one of his posts from four months ago. 

“Are you crushing on Gojo Satoru?” Mina asks with her hands on her hips.

You meet her gaze with a hint of guilt. You haven’t kept Mina up-to-speed on a lot of the things that have happened within the past three weeks, including the night last week when Gojo stayed with you out on the road after you got your flat tire and then kissed you. It’s been about five days since then, and you feel that if you fessed up now, she’d be mad that you didn’t tell her right away. 

“I’m…” you start as you look at her and she raises an eyebrow at you that makes you sheepishly sit up on your bed, pretty much kneeling in front of her. “Maybe. A little bit? I don’t know.”

She looks at you with surprise before walking backwards and sitting onto her bed, facing you. She presses her lips together, deep in thought, and there’s an almost concerned expression on her face. “When did this develop?”

You end up explaining pretty much everything that has happened between you and Gojo as of recently, her face staying neutral through even the most surprising details, and by the time you’re done explaining and waiting for her to give a response, you realize you’re tensing your shoulders and holding your breath.

She sighs, sulking a little and her bed frame creaks underneath the mattress. “I can’t believe you kissed Gojo Satoru and you didn’t tell me about it, like, practically the second after it happened. Also, you never told me that’s why you called me that night! It makes sense now why your car has been in ‘service’ for almost an entire week. I feel so horrible you went through that and I wasn’t there for you.”

“It’s okay,” you assure her with a small smile. “I’m fine. It was really nerve-wracking in the moment,” you say as you glance down at your hands, twiddling with your thumbs as the memories of that night flash through your mind. “But having him there really helped calm me down,” you admit in a hushed tone. When you look up at Mina, she wears a soft and knowing expression on her face.

“That’s good, I’m glad,” she murmurs and returns your smile with one of her own, but her eyes still look at you with caution.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s just I don’t really know Gojo that well. From what you’re telling me, he seems like a nice guy,” she comments, “but the fact he’s been really diligent in following-through with this whole film photography assignment of yours makes me wonder where his head’s at with you.” She finishes her sentence, but you continue to watch her since you could tell she had more on her tongue. “I just hope he’s not messing with you.” 

“Messing with me?” you ask her. There’s a part of you deep inside that’s wondering the same thing, but the thought of having to confront that feeling in order to get an answer makes you want to stay in blissful ignorance instead. 

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth and looks at you for a few seconds. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. It’s just a crush, right?” Her phone chimes with an alarm noise and she grabs it to turn it off. “Oh shoot, I’m going to be late for class,” she groans, leaping up off of her bed and stuffing all of her things on her desk into her bag. She gives you a goodbye over her shoulder just before she heads out of your shared room and then you’re all by yourself. 

Mina’s last question to you hangs in the air. You didn’t really know how you would’ve answered, because you didn’t know what you expected to come from your feelings, if anything at all. You’ve had feelings for plenty of other guys before, some turning into something more and others turning into nothing at all. Having feelings for someone wasn’t really something to worry about or complicate. 

You lay back down onto your bed with a sigh and go to the messages on your phone, clicking on Gojo’s name. It was so bizarre that he was now in your list of actual text messages since you had his number now, but the two of you have only exchanged a few texts since that night you last saw him. He sent over his practice schedule for the week, which was pretty packed and busy since their big game on the 28th was in just two days, and when you zoom in on the picture you see that he has practice in about ten minutes from now. You assumed that since he never texted you about it, they were probably just doing drills out on the field or some other exercises. But you missed him, and you wished that you did have an excuse to visit him. You didn’t care about tweaking your camera angles, fixing the exposure, or trying out different light sensitivities for your photos so they come out immaculate. You just wanted to see him again.

Tossing your phone to your side, suddenly frustrated by how mentally drained you feel, you look around the room and decide to tidy up a bit to distract yourself from all your emotions. As you start to pick things up off your desk and place them back on the shelf, you notice that you still have a netted bag full of washed laundry to fold. You dump all of the clothing onto your bed, consisting of sports bras, multiple pairs of jeans, your nice panties and also your grandma undies. One of the articles of clothing catches your eye, and you pull it out from the pile. It was Gojo’s jacket. 

Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you take in the sight of it, all the memories of that night flashing back into your head. You remember the chill of the air, the deep sound of his voice beside you, the gentle look in his eyes, his lips pressed against yours. Gojo had kissed you, so that had to have meant something, right? Maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, an emotional decision because the two of you were alone, and it was dark, and it was cold, and you two were reveling in each other’s warmth, but it was still something he initiated. It was so brief, the moment cut so tragically short that you still find yourself craving more despite the fact it happened almost a week ago. Mina wasn’t home that night, and instead of spending the rest of it curled up by yourself like you ended up doing, you could’ve easily invited him inside. You wonder if he would’ve taken you up on the offer, and how far you two would’ve gone. And now, because you were imaging it, you find it in your heart that you wanted it. Before you know it, those feelings you swore you wouldn’t complicate started to feel complicated. If all the novels, movies, poems, and folklore of this world have been any indicator, when it comes to matters of the heart, it’s always impossible to defy. 

You bring the jacket to your chest, the fabric now smelling like the laundry detergent that all of your other clothes smell like, and no longer of him. It was the polite thing to do to wash it, but the absence of his scent on the soft material just made you miss him even more. 

Closing your eyes in disbelief at the thought that crosses your mind, you resolve to act now and deal with whatever comes later. If you wanted to see him, you were going to see him. Besides, wanting to hand his jacket back to him wasn’t so bad of an excuse to drop by, right? What if it was a deeply sentimental article of clothing that is agonizing for him to be apart from? (a/n. he doesn’t even realize you still have it lol)

You grab your tote bag as well as his jacket and head out of your apartment, down to the ground floor, and walk down the street until you reach the bus stop that takes you to campus. You make it there in about forty minutes, the bus dropping you off near the central area. As you start walking towards the expensive art sculpture near the practice fields, you pass by the school’s mini convenience store and the bottles of strawberry vanilla soda splayed out in the display case catches your eye. You then find yourself inside buying two cans. One for him, one for you. Maybe he’ll be open to hanging out after practice, and you could properly treat him to something nice for all of his help. 

Soon enough, you’re walking across the grassy hills that lead to the field. It was a slightly gloomy day today, with the sun only peaking through the clouds every five minutes or so, but it was still beautiful and something about the fresh air made your chest swell with ease. Just as you get closer, you notice Geto and Nanami walking together in your direction.

“Oh, it’s y/n!” you hear Geto say when you approach them.

You greet the two of them with a smile. “Hello, it’s nice to see you two. Are you finished with practice?”

“No, we’ve still got about two hours left, but we just finished a pretty intense set of drills so coach is giving us a fifteen,” Geto says through strained breathing, and you finally notice that the two of them looked sweaty and spent. “What’s that in your arms?”

You look down at the strawberry vanilla sodas you were carrying and then back up at the two of them. “Oh…I just wanted to bring some soda for mr. center forward, as a thanks for getting me referee permission to be on-field on Thursday.” 

Nanami crosses his arms across his chest and Geto’s eyes widen. “Damn, wish I had a cute girl go out of her way to bring me strawberry-flavored soda mid practice,” Geto muses.

“I don’t think Satoru deserves this level of kindness, y/n,” Nanami tells you with a shake of his head. Geto looks over at him with a wry expression before letting out a small laugh. 

You give the two of them a smile. “No, really, he’s been helpful. Is he out on the field?” you ask, standing on tiptoes to try and peer over their shoulders towards the field.

“Yeah, he is, I think he stayed back since Coach Yaga was yelling at him about something,” Geto answers and he takes a glance at his watch, “he usually doesn’t stick around to take the lecturing for longer than two minutes so he’s probably somewhere hanging around nearby.” 

“That’s good. Coach Yaga scares me,” you admit to the two of them, pretending to shiver at the thought of him yelling, and this earns a smile from Nanami. 

“He’s really not that scary of a guy, just pretends to be one,” Geto informs you then lets out an exhale and places his hands on his hips after fully regaining his breath. “So, you’re going to be on the field with us on Thursday? That’s awesome, please cheer for us. Also, you should come out to the house party the night before the game.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You guys still party before your big games?”

Geto laughs. “I always forget you’re not in a sorority. Yeah, we do, I think the frat just wants an excuse to go crazy and picks our game schedule to go off of. You’ve no idea how many of our players have been in massive shit by showing up hungover to games.” 

Nanami lets out a disgruntled noise. “It’s irresponsible, honestly.”

You give an apologetic laugh before fidgeting with the soda cans in your arms, eventually throwing them into your tote, and then peering over their shoulders once more as an impatient feeling washes over you, the desire from earlier to see Gojo consuming you in a way that was entirely distracting. Nanami seems to notice this as he uncrosses his arms and slightly nudges Geto with his elbow. Geto sends him a curious glance before looking back at you.

“Well, anyway. If you’re free tomorrow night, come by. Pre-game parties are usually pretty hype. Yuuji’s bouncing, so he’ll let you in,” Geto says to you, giving you a kind smile.

“Yeah, I’ll try to make it,” you say, returning his smile. The two of them walk past you and you continue to trek forwards until you reach the large hill that oversees the field. 

Once you’re at the top, your eyes immediately scan the field for Gojo, and you quickly spot him at the foot of the hill talking to some people. You notice the group surrounding him weren’t wearing athletic clothing of any sort, so you assumed they were just his friends. He had a bright smile on his face and just the sight of it created a warmth within you. As you begin to stumble down the hill, your legs hasty in their stride, you see him leaning down forward towards one of the girls in the group with a playful look on his face. The girl looks up at him with a tilt of her head and you hear feminine, high-pitched laughter in the air as she steps closer to him, swatting at his chest from something he says. He’s fully grinning at her now, and it’s so painfully obvious they’re flirting that the feeling in your chest that was so excited to see him quickly turns sour. 

He somehow catches you standing at the bottom of the hill in his periphery and his eyes widen. There’s a moment where you hesitate, but eventually take a deep breath and make your way through the crowd. A few within the group let out confused noises from the disruption and then you were standing right in front of Gojo. 

“Who’s this?” one of his friends asks, particularly annoyed since you had accidentally nudged him to the side in your stride. You could feel the wide eyes from the men and the curious glares from the women. 

Gojo’s standing there shocked, likely from the fact that he wasn’t expecting you to be here, and then glances around to the people in the group. “Oh, just someone I…” he starts, his facial expression softening slightly when he looks back at you, but you’re giving him a guarded expression, “...know.” 

Your mouth opens slightly in disbelief, before you quickly close it. It’s true that you didn’t really know what you and Gojo were at the moment, it’s possible you would’ve answered the same, but his description of the nature of your relationship with him still hurts. He could’ve at least said your name or introduced you. And your disappointment from his words made you realize an unsettling truth, which was that you did want more from him, and you weren’t sure if that was something he was interested in at all. 

The girl he was talking to earlier is glaring daggers at your side, and you suddenly feel suffocated surrounded by a group of people watching you with interest. The man in front of you, despite getting to know him for the better part of the past three weeks, started to feel like a stranger to you all over again. You shove his jacket to his chest, and he looks down at it with surprise before hesitantly grabbing onto it. 

“Just wanted to return your jacket,” you mumble to him, trying so hard to sound neutral and sane. “I washed it for you.”

You hear a few of the men surrounding you coo something suggestive, a few laughs making their way between them as the women in the group scoff in denial. You ignore them and keep your gaze on Gojo. He’s looking straight down at you and scanning your features, and you notice his face briefly contorts into one of guilt when he registers the disappointed look on your face. 

Reaching into your bag, you pause when you see the two cans of strawberry vanilla soda sitting at the bottom, the smiling cartoon mascot faces on the labeling staring up at you like some pitiful conscience. You reached in and grabbed one regardless, then extended it to Gojo. He blinks at it before looking up at you. When he doesn’t immediately grab it, you also shove it to his chest until he does. When his fingertips make contact with your hand as he takes it from you, the contact sends a shiver down your spine. 

You bite your lip, faltering before you speak again. “For your help. Officially even now.” Then you turn around and push through the strangers spectating the whole scene to make it over to the grassy hills. You vaguely hear Gojo call your name out from behind you, his voice quickly drowned out by the voices of those surrounding him as they continue conversation, and soon enough you’re out of sight over the hill. 

—

“So, you’re telling me that this guy goes out of his way to help you for this class assignment, in a way that’s unproportionate to the favor that you put in for him, he flirtatiously teases you any chance he gets, drives out late at night to stay with you when you’re stranded with a flat, has an earnest conversation with you about life, kisses you, diligently takes care of you until you’re home safe, and then when you run into him in front of his friends, he says you’re just someone he knows?” Mina’s recounting every single painful detail as she paces around in your shared room. “I know you both haven’t had a conversation about anything after that night, which is insane because you should’ve, but at least he could’ve said you were a friend?” 

You scoff from where you’re laid down on your bed. “I caught him sliding his hands up a girl’s top in the bathroom at that SAE party last week, and when he tried to explain the situation to me he said that he and that girl are just friends. So, by his definition, we’re definitely not friends.”

Mina sighs. “Honestly, y/n, I know he’s charming and he’s been nice to you, but he still has a reputation for being a player.” 

You look up at the ceiling, your pillow clutched in your arms for emotional support. “He almost looked like he didn’t even want me there. Like I was an unwelcome interruption. Some sort of nuisance.” You weren’t sure exactly how to read the expression he had on his face from your unexpected visit, but your brain had a habit of settling on the worst. 

Mina sits down at her desk, turning her chair to face you. You were fully sulking like a heart-broken teenager and you didn’t understand why. He wasn’t any sort of title to you, and you haven’t even known him for that long. Barely a couple weeks ago, you were still resolved to the fact that he was some sort of mystery. An urban legend around campus that you couldn’t believe you were talking to because people like him didn’t usually talk to people like you. 

“Why don’t you just ask him how he feels about you? Put an end to the guessing game. Be like ‘hey, jerk, I know it’s common-place for frat dudes to kiss girls like they’re a dime a dozen. But that’s not gonna fly with me, so fess up on your intentions’. Something like that,” Mina suggests, waving a finger in the air.

You glance at her annoyed. “Were you trying to do an impression of me? I don’t talk like that.”

“You kind of do, love,” she says with a smile on her face. 

You look back up at the ceiling. “...I don’t want to have that conversation with him. It’ll hurt my pride. He should’ve been the one asking me what we are now, since he’s the one that kissed me.” You turn to gauge her opinion at your words, but her expression isn’t giving any hints. “Is that petty? I feel like I’m being petty.”

“No, girl, I agree with you,” she says with a sigh, “that’s how it should be, but almost never ends up being the case.” She looks up at the ceiling briefly, a thought forming in her head, before looking down at you with a sly smile. 

“What?” you ask, already wearily anticipating her response.

“You want to know how to find out how he feels about you without asking him how he feels about you?” she says like it was some sort of sales pitch.

You turn onto your side and perch yourself up on your elbow, a little too interested. “How?”

She snaps her fingers. “Make him jealous.”

You look at her apprehensively. “Jealous?”

“I mean, that’s the foolproof way to tell how a guy really feels about you. Based on how he reacts when he sees another guy’s tongue shoved down your throat,” she says with a playful shrug.

You flop down on the bed again. “Now that’s petty.” You hug your pillow to your chest again, considering the option. You didn’t even know if Gojo would feel jealous if you tried to make him jealous, it’s possible he wouldn’t even care at all if he saw you with another guy. 

“Yes, petty, but so what? We’re seniors in college, now’s our last chance to be petty. After we graduate, we’ve got to be fully functioning members of society,” she sighs, “you only get to be a petty college chick once.”

“How would I make him jealous?” you ask, still dwelling on her suggestion.

“Well, SAE is having that pre-game party tonight, he’s definitely going to be there. It’s your chance,” she says, tapping at her phone to glance at the time. 

You hum to yourself. The mature part of you is telling you that it’s a ridiculous idea, but the angel on your shoulder that has weathered the pain of all your confusing feelings as of lately was starting to play devil’s advocate. After a minute’s silence, you cover your face with your hand and groan. “Oh god.”

Mina looks up at you again. “What?”

“I’m gonna do it,” you say, swinging your feet over to the edge of the bed so you’re sitting up, pillow still hugged to your chest as you look at her. “I’m going to go find out how he really feels about me.”

Mina’s smiling at you and hops onto her feet. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for the toxic version of you to make her appearance.”

There was still a couple of hours before the party, so you take a shower and spend some time doing your hair as well as makeup. Wearing your robe, you walk over to your dresser and open it to pull out a pair of jeans when Mina looks over at you and sighs. You send her a look and she makes her way over to you, nudging you to the side with her hip and shoving your jeans back into the drawer.

“You’re not wearing jeans to this party,” she groans, “do I seriously have to teach you everything?” Mina starts shifting through the clothes you had hung up on your hangers, eyes landing on something that was tucked away to the side. She pulls out your black dress, the one that had long, skin tight sleeves with a sweetheart neckline and the short hem that barely fell to the middle of your thighs. She pats at the soft and silky material, pulling on it in an attempt to smooth out one of the wrinkles. “Oh, yes, honey. This will definitely do.”

“It’s wrinkled,” you say in a poor attempt to get out of wearing it. 

“Nothing my straightener set at 350 degrees won’t fix,” she says to you with a wink.

It takes Mina three minutes to prepare your dress for you while you anxiously pace around the room, fidgeting to yourself, and she eventually hands it to you to wear. The dress had an A-line silhouette cinched at the waist and the top half was tight, so you decided not to wear a bra with it. Just as you’re about to pull on a pair of biker shorts underneath to cover a bit more since the short fabric was hardly doing much, Mina sends you another disappointed look. 

“y/n, please, you’re killing me here,” she says. “To make him jealous, you’ve gotta get other guys to look at you. That might mean being a bit risque with the attire tonight.”

You sulk your shoulders before sighing and tossing your biker shorts back into your closet. You turn around to face the mirror, petting down the fabric of your dress over you and tousling with your hair before gasping a little as you take in your entire appearance. You looked good, and Mina’s playful cat-call from behind you only gave you a greater kick of confidence. 

“Love it, cute but sexy at the same time,” she says with a smile. “It’s your turn to be the hottie at the party.”

You two decide to take an Uber to the frat strip, arriving at the host house close to 10pm, and you can already hear the loud chanting and music inside. As you make your way up to the driveway, a gust of wind breezes by and your hands immediately hold down the fabric of your dress in an attempt to not flash the group of people walking behind the two of you. Mina looks over at you with a mischievous smile. You make eye contact with Yuuji at the entrance and he straightens his posture when he sees you and Mina approaching.

“Hello, ladies. I see we’ve switched roles here tonight,” Yuuji says with a tip of his head. “Bombshell friend,” he gestures to you, “and-”

“If you call me a casual tomboy, I can’t guarantee I won’t smack you,” Mina says to him.

Yuuji blinks at her. “Head on in,” he mumbles and you two walk past him.

It hits you as you walk inside that this is the third SAE party that you’ve been to within the past three weeks, and yet the atmosphere still surprises you every time. The music was loud, but at this one, the people chanting was even louder. You notice there were posters and flags with the school’s colors and symbols plastered up and hanging from the staircase, as well as pinned up jerseys on the walls that looked a lot like the ones that the soccer players wear during matches. Oh, and derogatory insults for the opposing school were drawn across all the decorations.

“I’m going to go find Todo,” Mina says to you with excitement and then she’s skipping off into the heart of the party, leaving you alone.

You sigh and fidget with the sleeves of your dress, looking around the party, your heart beating fast in your chest at the prospect that you’ll lock eyes with Gojo but you don’t see him anywhere. As you walk inside, you notice that people are looking at you, and when you make eye contact with some, you notice a lot of them were men, and the attention has you itching for a drink. You quickly make your way into the kitchen and are satisfied when you see the insane amount of options that you can reach for on the island. You grab a White Claw, crack the can open and when you turn around, you jump a little from the sight of a person in front of you.

“Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the man in front of you says with an apologetic look on his face, and you recognize him as the one that was bouncing the last SAE party that you went to last weekend. “Just going to reach around you to grab…that.” He reaches around you to grab an entire bottle of tequila, his arm brushing against yours and his eyes meet yours with a smile on his face. “I remember you from last week. You’re stunning by the way, what’s your name?”

You tell him and he’s nodding his head slowly, a cheeky look on his face that you’re used to seeing when guys attempt small talk to distract from the other less-than-innocent things they have floating around in their heads. “Nice, I’m Ryota,” he says as he adjusts the snap-back he was wearing on his head, “you, uh, in a sorority?” He leans back against the kitchen counter in front of you and you wonder if grabbing the tequila was just an excuse to talk to you.

You find yourself turning away from him slightly, taking a huge gulp of the White Claw you had in your hands to realize that 8% ALC./VOL was not going to be enough to get you through the night, so you turned to face him again. “No, I’m not. Are you going to drink all that tequila by yourself or are you looking to share?”

He smirks at you. “There’s enough for two.” 

You and this man you met literally two minutes ago cheers a few shots, throwing them back, and you notice that he does them almost effortlessly while you’re wincing from the fact that it’s been a long time since you’ve had hard liquor. He’s chuckling at your reactions as your face scrunches up from your third shot and you wave your hand in front of your face from the burn. A few people that walk in and out of the kitchen periodically give the two of you amused looks before walking back out into the loud party nearby. 

“Can’t handle your alcohol?” Ryota asks and you sigh, your face already feeling flushed.

“I can, I swear,” you whine.

“Here, wanna?” he says to you as he hands you another shot and then he holds his outstretched arm up. You think he’s trying to cheers, so you tap his shot glass, and then he’s laughing. “No, hold your arm out.” You do as he says and he holds his arm against yours and soon enough he’s taking a step closer to you and you’re interlocking your arms at the elbow. You let out a small gasp from his proximity but his eyes on you are unwavering. He brings his shot glass to his lips and you do the same and then you both tip your heads back, the burn in your throat making you unwind your arm from him and shake your head until you’re leaning back against the island counter and you hear him laugh again in front of you.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls out that instantly sobers you up from the four shots of tequila you so valiantly threw back. 

The two of you turn your heads to look at the source of the voice, and you see Gojo standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him and you feel your heart skip a beat in your chest, still so shocked at just how breathtaking he was anytime you saw him. He was holding an empty bottle of alcohol in his hands. You straighten your posture but Ryota still leans against the counter nonchalantly.

“Hey, what’s up dude. Sorry, I was about to circle back with more tequila, but I got caught up in here,” Ryota says and flashes you a smile. “Do you know y/n here?” 

You observe Gojo, who wears a tense expression in response to hearing his words, and then he locks eyes with you. A look of surprise swiftly passes across his face as he takes in your appearance, and you feel as if you're practically burning under his gaze. He looks back at Ryota and furrows his brow. 

“Yeah, I do,” he mutters and rudely pushes right in between the two of you to make it to the fridge. “Seems like you do, too.” 

Ryota seems to pick up on something from Gojo's tone that you don’t, because suddenly he’s standing up straight from the counter and turns to look at you with a contemplative expression. "I'll bring the tequila, or what's left of it I guess, out there," he mentions to Gojo, excusing himself with a brief glance in your direction. As he leaves and turns around the corner, a noticeable weight hangs in the air from how you and Gojo are alone in the kitchen now.

You lean back against the island, reaching for the White Claw you had opened earlier and take another sip. There was a muted buzz lingering in your head, and it felt good, offering a pretty welcome distraction from the fact that Gojo was standing just a few feet away from you, searching for something in the fridge. When he doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, he closes the fridge door with a louder-than-normal slam, startling you, and then he turns around to face you.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” he declares with an edge to his voice, and you’re already rolling your eyes.

“Sorry, pal, should I send you a notarized attendance letter three business days in advance so I don’t end up cock-blocking you in a bathroom again?” you sneer at him. 

He leans back against the fridge, facing you as he crosses his arms across his chest. Damn it, don’t stare at the muscles. Don’t do it. “What’s with the attitude?” 

“I don’t have an attitude, this is just how I talk to my acquaintances,” you retort as you take another sip of your drink.

He takes a step forward to you, eyes shamelessly dipping to the neckline of your dress and then a little bit further to where the hem grazes your thighs. He places his palm on the counter behind you that you were resting back on and then he’s leaning closer to you, your grip on the can in your hand tightening. He was so close that you can’t think of anything but him. His eyes are on your lips when he speaks. “Are we just acquaintances?” 

You narrow your eyes at him, all of your anger from yesterday and earlier today resurfacing at his question as you look up at him straight in the eyes. “Yes, I’m only someone you know, right?”

He’s sighing and you can tell he wants to pull away from you to display his annoyance, but he stays right where he’s at. The hand that was placed on the counter slowly inches towards your waist until his thumb is brushing against the fabric of your dress just underneath your rib cage. He starts to draw slow circles on the material, pressing into your skin occasionally, and you‘re breathless from the contact. “I’m getting the hint that you’re mad at me about something, but it’s hard to care when you’re looking like this.”

You let out a scoff at his words. You’ve spent the past two days suffering from his behavior, and he’s trying to get away with it by practically seducing you. But there was also a part of you that was entirely aroused by how little he seemed to care about your attitude and how much more he seemed to care about the way you were worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “Looking like what?”

The thumb that was pressing against the clothed skin of your waist retreats and his hand moves back to where it was before, laid flat on the counter next to you, except this time his other arm reaches out for the surface too. And now he’s got you caged-in, looking down at you like he’s trying really hard to not get even closer. “Looking hot as fuck? You’re kind of vain for making me say it out loud.” 

You’re effectively dazed out of your goddamn mind at this point, using all the self-control you’ll have for the rest of a lifetime to not grab onto his shirt and pull him into you, all inhibitions lost to the wind. You wouldn’t even care if anyone walked in, you just needed him on you, touching you, kissing you right now. But there’s a tiny part of you that’s still mad at him, and fortunately that tiny part of you pulls through. “If you think trying to seduce me is going to make me not angry anymore, you’re out of luck.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you. You think this is me trying to seduce you? If that’s so, I’m starting to worry you won’t be able to take it,” he whispers that last part so suggestively that you’re weak in the knees from his words. He seemed so different, entirely preoccupied by taking in the sight of every inch of you in front of him that any sense of shame or guilt has left his body, and he’s just looking at you with desire. 

“Satoru…” is all you manage to say as you look up at him, your thighs clenching from the arousal of just his presence surrounding you. 

You see him close his eyes for a second and exhale before he opens them, his pupils all the way dilated and wild when he looks at you again. “Yeah?” he responds, his head dipping down towards yours slightly, lips just inches from yours, like he’s waiting for your permission to act. 

“I…” you start, blinking up at him through your lashes, “...I was having a lot of fun earlier throwing back shots of tequila, and you kind of ruined that. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get back to it.” You place a hand on his chest, his gaze dropping to it in surprise as he watches you push him away from you all the way until his back hits the fridge with a thud.

“What the fuck?” he utters, his face contorted into a confusion you found incredibly comical.

You press up against him, looking up with round eyes and innocence, and you feel him immediately tense up. “Also, very inappropriate to treat someone you barely know like that. I’ll let it slide, though.” 

The last thing you see before you turn away from him is his shocked expression, blinking at you with the rest of him practically motionless, and you skip out of the kitchen towards the main party happening around the corner out of his sight. 

There were bustling people, a few guys coming up to you to talk to you, but you ignore them until you spot Geto, Nanami, some of the other soccer players, and a bunch of other people huddled around in a circle. You tap on Geto’s shoulder and he turns around to face you.

“Oh! Hey, what’s up, you made it,” Geto greets you, pulling you in for a brief hug which surprises you but was also pleasantly received as you hugged him back with a friendly pat. You could smell the alcohol from him. When he pulls away from you, he’s beaming. “We’re all doing rounds of shots, wanna join?”

“Oh my god, the words I’ve been wanting to hear all night,” you say and you join the circle, a bunch of people cheering as they usher you towards the center and you grab a shot glass from the small round table. A group of maybe fifteen people all raise their shot glasses up in the air, you included, and say some incoherent, non-rehearsed words of luck for the soccer team’s game tomorrow before everyone throws back their shots. You’re squealing and jumping up and down in excitement with Geto and watch as Nanami pretends to throw back his shot before dumping its contents into a red plastic solo cup in his hand instead.

“This is so much fun!” you’re yelling. “Can we do another?”

“Hey! New girl wants to do another,” one of the frat dudes calls out, which is followed by cheers and then messy pouring of tequila all over the table as people extend their shot glasses out to be filled. 

Two, three, four, eventually five is your limit until you wander away from the circle, entirely tipsy at this point, over to where people were dancing in front of the DJ’s booth. You bump into some couples that were grinding up on each other, your drunk conscience shamelessly watching their movements, and then accidentally bump into a man so hard that it almost sends you falling back onto the ground but he grabs your arm and keeps you upright. His drink spills a bit out of his hand and onto your dress, making you giggle like a freak. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he’s yelling to you over the music.

“No, I’m sorry,” you yell back, and then you notice he’s wearing a jacket that mimics the patterns of the school’s soccer jersey and has an embroidered player’s number on the chest. It hits you that you’ve seen him on the field before briefly during the practices you’ve been to. “Are you on the soccer team?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says and he tells you his name but the music is way too loud to hear it, and you’re also sort of drunk at this point to register it anyways. But he was cute, and you decided you wanted to dance with him, and dance away is exactly what you do. 

When he twirls you around and presses his chest against your back, your line of sight falls straight ahead to where you see Gojo sitting on a couch. Your heart sinks in your chest when you see a girl place a hand on his thigh and lean towards him, practically sitting in his lap, but the look on his face tells you he’s entirely distracted by something else. His eyes search the room for a few seconds, and when they land on you, he stills. When he tilts his head up to peer behind you and sees who you were dancing with, a look of shock crossed his face. 

For fucks sake, you wouldn’t flirt with one of his teammates, right?

In your drunk, hazy mind, Mina’s words flash by in your head. The foolproof way to tell how a guy really feels about you is based on how he reacts when he sees another guy’s tongue shoved down your throat.

You turn around, reach up and pull the man you were dancing with down towards you, and you kiss him. The man hesitates, clearly surprised, before moving his lips against yours and just when you feel his hands make their way to your waist, you’re being yanked away from him by the arm. When you turn to look at the perpetrator, you see a very viscerally angry-looking Gojo in front of you and a chill runs down your spine.

Oh god, he looked pissed. If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under right now. 

He pulls you by your forearm over to the stairs, and you’re protesting, trying to yank away from his harsh grip, but he doesn’t budge as he takes you up to the second floor and just when you two have made it into the secluded hallway, he pushes you up against the wall, caging you into it with his body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he scowls at you, leaning in closer, tone so searing it’s enough to set you on fire.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you yell back at him, anger rising within you.

“You’re seriously turning out to be a real fucking pain in the ass,” he hisses the words, his eyes darting across your face before settling on your lips.

“Why do you care? I’m just-” you start but he interrupts you when his lips crash down on yours, taking you by surprise. His kiss was hungry, ravenous, all-consuming. So different from that night when he kissed you for the first time with nothing but tenderness. This one felt like he wanted to take everything from you, leaving nothing behind. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer to him, and your arms slide up past his shoulders, locking behind his neck, and he’s groaning against your mouth before biting at your bottom lip. When you grant him access, he deepens the kiss and the taste of him intoxicates you.

“If you imply that you’re just a stranger to me one more fucking time,” he’s growling against your mouth, “I’ll make sure we get real well acquainted with eachother against this wall right now.” His hands find the flesh underneath your ass and he easily hoists you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. “Ask me if I give a fuck if anyone sees.”  

“Oh my god,” you’re gasping, his words hitting you straight to your core, and when you feel his clothed erection pressed against the flimsy cloth of your panties, the self-resolution you once had was all but a distant memory. “Satoru, bathroom, please, not here.”

When you tip your head back, giving him access to your neck and he immediately indulges, peppering kisses down your skin, you roll your hips against his and he squeezes the flesh of your ass hard to reprimand the motion before he takes you into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, then setting you up on the counter. 

His kisses get lower until he’s at your collarbone, and he pulls you forward towards him on the surface to where you’re sitting at the edge and he has his hands digging at the soft flesh of your thighs. You’re squirming in his grasp, gripping onto his shirt for any sort of purchase. When his kissing reaches the neckline of your dress and his finger hooks the fabric, threatening to pull it down, he looks at you. 

“Please,” you ask him simply.

He raises an amused eyebrow, pulling down the fabric slowly to just above where your nipples would be set free. “You think you’re in a position to ask for anything from me right now?”

“Oh my fucking god I swear, if you don’t yank my dress down, I’ll choke you,” you threaten him. 

“Careful, pretty, I might be into that,” he chides, pressing a kiss to your chest.

You grab the wrist of the hand that was still hooked inside your cleavage, and pull it down harshly so your tits are set free and he leans away from you to take in the sight. He’s mesmerized for a moment, his hand wrapping around your rib cage and thumb poking the softness from the side before it eventually reaches your nipple and starts to play with it. “God, you’re so beautiful. Remind me why we didn’t do this the first night we met?”

When his mouth latches onto your nipple, you tip your head back with a moan and you’re not able to come up with an answer to his question. Because he was right, it was insane that the two of you didn’t. Your hand runs through the short hair of his undercut at the nape of his neck and then grips at the soft strands a bit higher as he sucks and licks at your breasts. You wrap your legs around him tighter, pulling his hips to you, and from the edge of the counter you start to roll your wet panties against the bulge at his front to get relief. He groans against your chest before pulling away. 

“You need to relax. Real fuckin’ desperate now compared to when you were pushing me away in the kitchen thirty minutes ago,” he scolds, his lips finding yours again and one of his hands trails up the skin of your thigh. You open your legs even wider for him sweetly and he smiles against your lips, his fingers brushing the skin of your inner thigh and then finally pressing against your clothed core. You instantly jolt, entirely stimulated by the contact, and he pulls away from the kiss to watch you. 

“S-Satoru…” you whimper because it’s all you can manage to say, your hips pushing forward, craving more of his touch, but he withdraws from your heat all together and steps away from you, his grip on your hips dragging you forward until you step down from the counter and you’re standing in front of him, looking up like you don’t even know how to breathe unless he talks you through it. He turns you around to where you’re facing the mirror, and it’s the first time you take a look at how messed up he’s gotten you. Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, eyes a little teary from the lust consuming you. Your tits that appeared plush and perked by the haphazard way the neckline of your dress was tucked underneath them were glistening with his saliva and you felt like you were about to go insane at the sight. You take a look at his face in the reflection, and he too looked like he was about to go insane at the sight. 

“Bend over the counter,” he demands with a rough voice, but you don’t have much of a choice since he’s pushing down on your back anyways. You’ve risen up onto your tiptoes to accommodate the position and he lazily flips the fabric of your dress up over your ass before his hands hook into the side of your panties at your hips, pulling them down, and you feel the fabric practically peel off of you from how wet you were. And then he was on his knees behind you.

“Fuck, why didn’t we do this the first night we met?” he laments, marveling at the sight of you bent over for him.

“You already asked that question,” you mumble. 

“Cause it still doesn’t make any fucking sense to me,” he sighs and then he drags his index finger into your folds, from your entrance that was sopping wet all the way down to your clit. You’re wiggling, pushing your hips out towards him, and you hear him let out a low, guttural sound in his chest at the sight. His finger experimentally pushes into you and you’re gasping, hand slamming against the mirror.

“You’re so sensitive. Need a second?” he asks like he’s genuinely looking out for you, and yet he doesn’t wait before pushing another finger into you regardless. 

“Mhh..n-no, just need your tongue,” you say through a shaky breath, panting from where you were on the counter. 

He groans at your request and pulls his fingers out of you, instantly making you whine, before giving you a different reason to whine when his tongue presses against your clit.

Your mind was going insane, still registering the shock that this was happening as you moaned from the feeling of his tongue on you, mouth latching on and sucking harshly at your sensitive core that has you writhing and grasping onto anything you could find for purchase. The man that was making a mess at the most intimate part of you right now seemed so different from that kind man last week that pressed that chaste kiss to your lips. This was like you had just summoned the devil and he was on his knees behind you.

You make a mental note to never doubt any of Mina’s advice ever again.

When his hungry lapping at your clit turns into slow, lazy licks against your folds, you whimper above him and attempt to grind against his mouth so his tongue is where you want it. “Mm…p-please, stop teasing, I wanna cum.” 

He pulls his mouth from you and you feel how slick he’s made you, nothing but a mess of your arousal and his spit, before he pushes two fingers inside you and stretches you out inside with them. “But do you deserve to cum, is the question, sweetheart,” he drawls, curling his fingers inside and pressing on that spot that had your walls fluttering around him and building that tight knot in your lower tummy. 

“Yes, I do, fuck,” you’re moaning as he slowly starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, “less talking, more licking my clit.”

His other hand finds your clit, fingers beginning to rub agonizingly slow circles, and you can feel the texture of his calluses across every single nerve ending of the aching bud. “What was that, baby? You want me to be stingy with my tongue? Alright, whatever you say, princess,” he sighs it like he has no choice but to be a fucking dick right now.

“No, oh my god, don’t be stingy with your tongue,” you cry out, your cheek pressing up against the mirror from the sheer desperation of wanting a release, “I’ll kill you.” 

“Can’t make you cum if I’m dead,” he purrs. “God, your pussy’s going crazy right now, clenching around my fingers like it’s got a mind of its own. Can’t wait to fuck you,” he’s groaning, “so sweet, so tight, so wet. Exactly how I imagined it.”

“Y-You’ve imagined this?” you whimper to him when he starts to fully fuck you with his fingers. 

“So many fucking times,” he grumbles, his other hand now gripping your ass and thumb spreading you more open. You blush from how exposed you felt to him, but the noises he was making from the deepest part within his chest made you realize he was a freak for it. He pulls his fingers out of you and then uses both hands to spread your folds apart as he laps at the wetness that was practically dripping from your entrance. “What your world would be like if this was your little ‘terms and conditions’ favor instead.”

His tongue latches onto your clit again and your knees almost buckle. “M-Make me cum and maybe I’ll finally regret the fact that it wasn’t,” you say to him, desperate to coax something feral from him that finally grants you release of the tension building at your core. You’re unable to stay still, squirming and squealing above him, so hopelessly at his mercy.

“Say you’ll never kiss another guy except me ever again,” you hear him grumble with his face still buried in your cunt.

“w-what…” you say, exhaling incredulously, “S-Satoru…you don’t make any sense…we’re not even dat-”

“Say it, and I’ll let you cum,” he tells you simply, pulling his mouth from you again just when you felt like you were about to topple over and you’re about ready to kick him in the face at this point. You try to look over your shoulder to read his facial expression but when his fingers take their position over your clit and he starts to draw stars, you quickly give up and rest your forehead on the mirror. Oh god, this was good, if he just kept going-

As if he could read your mind, he pulls his fingers from your clit entirely, leaving your core agonizingly empty from any part of his touch, and it makes you gasp. You’ve never felt more betrayed in your life.

“Oh my god, okay okay okay!” you’re screaming, sticking your ass out to him and he’s chuckling at the sight. “I’ll never kiss another guy again! Fucking hell, Satoru, please, just make me cum,” you beg, whimpering and almost crying, your thighs twitching from the urge to clench together for some form of relief in his absence.

He seems satisfied by your begging, because he immediately grabs your ass with both hands, one of his thumbs pushing shallowly into your drenched entrance, and then his mouth finds your clit again. You close your eyes shut, and you could feel that you were just seconds away from cumming as he simultaneously sucks and licks relentlessly on the sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s when he groans against your center with such a primal frequency, sending shockwaves of vibrations to your center and throughout your entire body, that you fall apart for him and you come undone so violently that your knees entirely give out, and you’re screaming his name. He wraps an arm around your legs to keep you from falling as you squirm on the counter, your walls pulsing and clenching, hips twitching, and then you’re finally calming down. You lay blissfully on the surface, head down, breathing heavily with soft, remnant whimpers leaving your lips.

You hear Gojo let out a short exhale from behind you that almost sounds like he’s in disbelief. When you turn slightly to look back at him, you see he’s palming himself through his pants and looking directly at your cunt. “You’re dripping onto the floor, fuck.” He catches a drop of slick, clear arousal as it falls from your entrance, immediately bringing it to his tongue and licking it off his finger before standing up. 

You barely manage to push your upper body up so that you’re standing, shaking arms working overtime to hold yourself up, and he comes up behind you to press his chest against your back, looking at you in the mirror. He was breathing heavily too, his mouth near your ear and his eyes lidded with lust. You reach your arm up and behind him to grab at the soft tufts of hair at the back of his head, your back arching from the motion, and he groans as he pushes his clothed erection against your ass, head dropping close to your shoulder from the pleasure and he presses a kiss to your skin. The image in front of you, with his broad shoulders and frame completely engulfing yours whole, your hips slightly rocking forwards and pushing against the counter from his indulgent grinding behind you, his hand reaching up to pinch and play with your nipple, it was all so erotic that you were already aching for more. He effectively finger-fucked, licked, and sucked the anger out of you, and that was a dangerous fact. 

His fingers grazed up the side of your waist that the fabric of your dress still clung tightly to, and he loosely held onto you, sighing against the back of your neck which sent shivers down your spine. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “So pretty like this. Turn around and face me, baby, reflection’s not enough,” he says to you and you do as he says, twirling around. His eyes take in the sight of you, his thumb coming up to press at the soft flesh of your breast and you can see it in his eyes that he was worshipping you. 

You finally take in the entire image of his appearance. His chest was heaving, hair disheveled, shirt was wrinkled at the front from when you were grabbing onto it earlier. There’s a crease to his brow when he looks at you, and you realize that this is not the first time you’ve seen him look exactly like this in a party bathroom. Except the last time, it was from reasons other than your own.

And then there’s that sinking feeling in your chest again.

Just when you observe that spark of intense lust in his eyes, pupils dilated like wild, see it flash through his mind that he thinks he’s about to get lucky with you tonight, you find yourself pushing him away from you for the second time tonight. You’ve got him with his back pressed up against the wall while he looks down at you with confusion, and this time there’s desperation and panic there too.

You look up at him with a discerning softness, and all those tender feelings you’ve been experiencing for the past week come crashing down on you all at once, but your heart aches with their memory. When his eyes study your face, there’s a brief second where he’s surprised to see the way you’re looking at him, and his jaw clenches slightly. 

“Thanks, I really needed this,” you whisper to him, hand patting his chest reassuringly as you try to keep your composure in front of him despite the hollow feeling in your chest, “gave me some clarity. Don’t follow me.” And then you step away from him, pull your panties back up into place, adjust the neckline of your dress up over to cover your chest, then you make your way to exit.

“What? Wait-” he scrambles, sounding stunned from behind you as you open the bathroom door, walk right out into the hallway and close the door behind you, not all the way but just enough so you were out of his line of sight.

You sigh to yourself for a second as you step to the side, fixing at your hair, then take a deep breath as you walk down the hall. It registers in your mind that he listens, never following after you. 

a/n. reader is soooo messy for doing this to him right before his big game lol i'm like scared for her even though i'm literally the author hahha. i hope to see you in the next one! much love

➸ take me to chapter seven!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice (decided to tag all interacts too just so it's not missed if that's ok! love you all sm)

#anime #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #geto suguru #nanami kento #choso kamo #toji fushiguro #yuji itadori #aoi toudou #yaga masamichi #alternate universe #college #college au #soccer #sports au #fraternity #sorority #tw drinking #partying #romance #smut #fluff #angst #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk smut #series #kiss

[strawb3rryscorpio]

Could you just write like ANYTHING that’s Dominic x reader because there is a severe dom fic drought rn

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒, dominic fike x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and your boyfriend get matching tattoos 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, sexual jokes

You and Dominic had been discussing matching tattoos for months now. You both loved the idea, but the only issue was that neither of you could agree on what your tattoo would be. That had been the case until earlier today when Dominic had finally compromised on getting cherries as your tattoos.

To you, cherries were simple yet symbolic of your relationship. Dominic liked the idea, but he argued that it should be something more corny. After hours of reasoning and many puppy eyes later, Dominic had finally accepted defeat to those damn cherries.

"Babe, what should I wear?" you questioned, looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to think of an outfit. "Nothing at all if it was up to me," he deadpanned, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

"Dom, I'm being serious," you turned to glare at him as a wide smirk developed on his face, and he replied, "I am the most serious I've probably ever been." You rolled your eyes in response, walking into the closet in search of an outfit.

"How's this?" you said walking out after a few minutes. "Perfect," he eyed you for a second before looking back at his phone. No matter what outfit you put on, it was perfect to him, meaning he was zero help.

You turned to face the mirror, having to trust your own opinion in this situation. "Is it too booby?" you asked yourself, caressing the top of your tank top.

The look on his face told you he was thinking of another sly remark. "Nothing is ever too booby," you giggled and walked over to your dresser to grab your purse.

As you checked your phone before heading out, you heard the sound of one of Dominic's notorious dramatic sighs. "What're you so loud for?" you jokingly asked as you placed a pair of small gold hoops on your bare ears.

You heard Dominic walk over to you, placing his arms around your waist and nuzzling his head into the back of your neck.

"'Cuz I'm bored," he mumbled into your neck. "I've been watching Reddit confessions for like a million years." The buzz of his words on your neck sent a chill down your spine.

"It's not my fault you were ready two hours ago," you said, turning to face him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Plus, you love those Reddit confessions," you added, pulling away from the kiss.

The drive there was quick. You talked about everything from his new music to some gossip about your friends.

"Still set on those cherries?" he asked, pulling into the parking lot. "Yes, one hundred percent set," you smacked your glossy lips together as your last touch. "Then let's go!"

You two walked towards the building, hand in hand. "I'm nervous," you admitted. "Why? You'll be okay," Dominic replied, rubbing your back for reassurance. "And you should be perfectly fine since you got to pick the tattoo." He turned to you with a mischievous grin.

"I didn't pick it. We agreed on it," you stepped into the store as Dominic held the door open. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said before wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you made your way up to the counter.

"Hi, we're here for an appointment at four thirty," you greeted the lady at the counter. "Oh! A couples tattoo. That's fun!" She pulled out a waiver and some pens for you to sign.

"Yeah, we've been talking about it for a while, and we were both free today, so I was like, why not?" you explained as Dominic signed the waiver. "What are you guys planning on getting?" she questioned, as Dominic finished signing the papers and handed them to you.

"We're getting matching cherries," Dominic answered as you continued reading the waiver. "We had them for dessert on our first date." The lady's face softened at Dominic's reasoning. "Awe, that's beautiful," she replied softly, making you blush.

You turned your head towards Dominic before mumbling, "And you said it wasn't as corny." You finished signing the waiver and passed it back. "Okay, perfect! I'll have you guys set up in a couple of minutes," she announced before walking off into the back.

You and Dominic took a seat, and you laid your head on his shoulder. "Dom?" you mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear you. "Yeah, love?" he looked down at you, ready to listen to whatever you had to say.

"If you really don't want to get the cherries, we can do something else. I don't mind, I promise," you admitted, immediately reading his face for a response.

He let out the slightest chuckle. "Babe, if I really didn't want those cherries, I would've been on your ass about it," he smiled, brushing his hands through your hair. "And plus, I'd get your face tatted on my cheek, so I have zero issues with this," he added, and a wide smile grew on your face.

"You're very corny, you know that?" you spoke after a few seconds of silence. "It's my specialty, really," he laughed and placed a kiss on your head.

"We're ready for you two!" the lady called out. You and Dominic stood up as he grabbed your hand. "Ready?" he asked as you started heading towards the tattoo chairs. "Readier than ever, babe!" you exclaimed.

You two sat in the chairs, still holding hands, as the tattoo artist introduced himself. You stared at Dominic as he made conversation, and you noticed a smile develop on your face. A smile that displayed nothing but love and commitment. And you thought to yourself, what is committing if not getting a matching tattoo?

—————————

🪽h speaks: guys i’m not very happy with this it was kind of rushed but i was eager to post something. i hope you enjoy and thank you so much for 300 followers!! love you guys :)

#dominic fike #dominic fike x reader #imagine #euphoria #fanfiction #euphoria fanfic #euphoria imagine #zendaya #dominic fike imagine #headcanon #sunburn #dominic fike tour #singer #writer #wattpad #euphoria edit

[tomriddleslove]

Pt 3 - Always.

Theodore Nott x Reader

Pt 2 here

Summary: The one where the anticipated week long holiday between the friendship group turns into a certified nightmare. Alternatively: You accidentally end up rooming with Theodore.

A/N: WE’VE ENTERED THE HOLIDAY PART AND I CANT WAIT FOR WHERE THIS IS GOING TO GO WOOOOHHH

I promise the angst will eventually subside (eventually.)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Songs: I know you - Faye Webster

I wait for you - Alex G

By some miracle, you had all managed to get through the weeks leading up to the summer holidays and were due to travel to Pansy’s family home today. The monotony of pouring over books, frantically rummaging through essays you had written on scrolls of parchment looking for your notes had finally paid off, and exams were done. Pansy had been raving on and on about just how beautiful the quaint villa was (which seemed to be a bit of a juxtaposition) , and how they'd all have a great time. Whilst you did look forward to it, you were reminded of who would be there.

Theodore.

After that conversation in the library, things had gone from worse to even worse. In some cruel twist of fate, you seemed to see Theodore everywhere now, yet his increased presence seemed only to solidify just how much of a gap there was between the two of you.

Spending a week together both seemed terrifying and cruelly humorous. A kind of plot from a shitty rom-com, though you doubted it would turn out for the better.

The once lively (arguably messy) dorm room you shared with Pansy was now barren and bare, your belongings packed away as you waited for Pansy to finish…

Tapping the walls?

“Pans, what on earth are you doing?” You ask, and she continues knocking on random places on the wall, letting out a groan of frustration.

“I swear I had it hidden somewhere! I refuse to let some snotty little 6th-year find it.” She grumbles.

“What the fuck are you looking for? Maybe if you told me it would be a bit easier.” You respond exasperatedly, nearing your wits ends.

“My weed! I kept a stash hidden somewhere when we first came but I've been leeching off Enzo! Now I can't find it!” She huffs, throwing her arms up exasperatedly. You roll your eyes and resist the urge to slap her upside the back of her head.

“You idiot, I packed that away.” You snap, and she furrows her brows.

“What? When?” She says, and you begin to wonder whether you should even bother.

“Merlin Pansy, is your memory that bad? You asked me to take it.” You chide. Her look of confusion merges into a sheepish smile.

“Oh… Thanks!” She says, beaming as she slings her bag over her shoulder.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time as you lug your bags downstairs.

“Finally.” Draco proclaimed, ushering the attention of the group as they looked up to see you and Pansy descending. Blaise immediately goes over to take Pansy's suitcase, and she looks up at him with a bashful smile.

Woah.

What?

You raise a brow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Lorenzo comes over to help you with your trunks, and he leans closer to you.

“You're seeing it too, right? Smitten with one another.” He whispers.

“Since when? She was flirting with Belby about a week or so ago.” you say, raising a brown.

“Exactly. Notice how Blaise wasn't there? He left for a reason.” Lorenzo gushes, as though you both were 12 and at a sleepover. You giggle lightly.

“Wanna bet on when they'll get together?” You offer, and Lorenzo nods.

“Easy. They're both too damn stubborn to confess so I bet it’ll be after the trip.” He says.

You let out a loud laugh, and they all turn to look at you and Lorenzo. Pansy raises a brow, but you're looking elsewhere. Theodore looks over at you, and how Lorenzo is leaning close to you. He has to tear his eyes away, and he swallows harshly.

It was incredible how one person could change your mood so quickly.

Stupid, really, just how much one person could affect you. You clear your throat and turn back to Lorenzo.

“I bet they'll get together during the trip. 5 Galleons?” You ask, holding out your hand. Lorenzo eyes you suspiciously, then shakes your hand.

“Deal.” He says, and a wicked grin graces your face.

“Great. That means I can do this then.” You say, walking over to Pansy and Blaise.

“Pans, can you be a dear for me? I want to room with Lorenzo, so can you room with Blaise instead please?” You plead.

Blaise raises a brow and Pansy looks at you with a pointed glare

You were helping her (and perhaps yourself).

“Isn’t Loren-” Blaise starts but you quickly cut him off.

“Please, pansy?” You say, your voice strained. You really wanted those 5 galleons. Pansy is nervous but somehow also, you can tell she’s excited. You're probing her onwards, and with a shy smile (Once again, so out of character for her), she accepts.

“Alright- only if you don't mind, Blaise?” She says, looking up at him.

He grins as he looks down at her and you watch the two with an amused look on your face.

Hopeless, really. You give it a day or two before they're together.

“Of course.” He agreed.

Damn, you were good. With a cheeky grin, you turn back to Lorenzo and wiggle your eyebrows. You had the win in the bag. You leave the two and walk back to Lorenzo, grinning as you approach him.

“Don't hate the player, hate the game” You brag, and Lorenzo has to suppress a smile.

“Good Job. You forgot one thing though, sweetheart. I’m sharing a room with Mattheo.” Lorenzo quips, and your expression drops.

“What? Pansy said-” You protest, and Lorenzo laughed.

“Yeah, originally I was sharing a room with Draco. But Draco demanded his own room because he refused to share and Mattheo ended up with me instead.” He continues.

It takes a second for the gears in your head to turn, and then you realise.

If there are 4 bedrooms, and Blaise and Pansy are in one, Mattheo and Lorenzo in the other, Draco on his own in the third, that leaves you and...

Theodore.

You were going to strangle the life out of the greasy blonde-haired git. Damn him and his scrawny little princess ass.

You suddenly feel very sick. Perhaps you should stay in Hogwarts. Summer with Snape sounds riveting now, doesn't it?

You take a deep breath, trying to hide your disappointment, but Lorenzo sees right through you and bursts into laughter.

"Looks like the game just got a whole lot more interesting, huh?" he teases, patting you on the back. You shoot him a mock glare, but inside, you're already plotting how you’ll get through this.

May the heavens above help you.

As you stood outside the, admittedly stunning villa, you began to wonder whether you could brave sleeping outdoors for a week. The old French villa stands gracefully amidst lush gardens and towering trees, exuding an air of timeless elegance. Its weathered façade is adorned with intricate wrought-iron balconies and climbing vines. A cobbled pathway leads to an arched entrance adorned with a rustic wooden door. The entrance is flanked by tall windows with faded shutters, each window framed by ornate carvings that add a touch of sophistication.

As you step inside, the foyer unfolds, grand and established. A winding staircase leads upwards, and you can't even begin to imagine how damn expensive this place was.

The rooms are filled with antique furniture and large windows adorned with heavy curtains that allow dappled sunlight to filter through, casting a warm glow on the Persian rugs that cover the floor.

Nevermind. You could tolerate it.

The group of you stand in the foyer, looking around.

“Well shit…” Mattheo murmurs under his breath, looking around. You agree with him. You couldn't even begin to comprehend how wealthy your friends were. It felt almost alienating, somehow. The rest of them seemed accustomed to such luxuries, it seemed only Mattheo and yourself weren't.

“Right. There are two en suites and two regular rooms. Blaise and I will have the first ensuite, and You and Theodore get the other. It's all the way on the top floor.” Pnays says, and you nod, insides churning at the reminder of having to share a room with Theodore. You don't even turn to look at him.

“How come you two get en suites?” Mattheo complains, and Pansy turns to him, rolling her eyes.

“Because you dimwit, we need privacy for changing. We can't exactly just strip naked in front of Blaise and Theodore.” Pansy pointed out, motioning between yourself and her.

You loved Pansy, you really did, but why did she have to word it like that? You groan internally, shaking your head.

“I'm sure they'll be doing it anyway..” Lorenzo mumbles to you, and you snicker as you look over at Blaise and Pansy. Agreeing to meet downstairs in an hour to order food, you all make your way up to your respective rooms.

You hurl your suitcase up the steps, hyper-aware of Theodore walking just behind you. You climb up the first set of stairs and look up. A solid three more sets to go.

What the hell? 4 floors and 4 bedrooms? What kind of architectural fuck up was this? It seemed now like you had bricks in your bag because the task of getting up those remaining three flights of stairs seemed near impossible.

You pulled out of your mini crisis embarrassingly quick as fingers brushed against yours. You spin around, spotting Theodore. He's reaching down for your bag, and he looks up, eyes meeting yours.

You hated him.

You loved him.

You loathed him.

You didn't know which one mattered more.

“Let me take it.” He offers, clearing his throat, and suddenly you've lost the ability to speak.

You nod in agreement, too caught off guard by the unexpected gesture to form coherent words. Theodore effortlessly lifts the suitcase as if it were weightless, and you watch the play of muscles beneath his shirt as he ascends the staircase with ease.

You berate yourself for being so shameless.

You follow him, trying to shake off the strange mix of emotions swirling within you. Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you reach the landing, now standing just outside the door of your shared room.

"Thanks," you manage to mumble, avoiding eye contact as Theodore sets your suitcase down inside the room. He nods in acknowledgement, his expression unreadable.

As you enter the room, you're greeted by a quaint and cosy little room. Luckily, there are two separate beds, though they are pushed together to form one larger one. You'll be sure to move them apart.

Theodore clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I guess this is our room for the trip," he remarks, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah," you reply, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The air between you two is charged with unspoken tension, and the weight of the realisation settles in. Fate, it seems, had a peculiar sense of humour.

"Listen, about earlier," Theodore starts, his gaze searching yours, but you cut him off swiftly.

“Don’t. There's nothing to talk about.” You say, brushing past him as you walk into the room. You have your back faced to him, face bright red as you begin unpacking, actions more forceful than you intended them to be.

Theodore remains silent for a moment, respecting your need for space. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you as you unpack, each movement deliberate and almost aggressive.

You hear Theodore take a deep breath behind you, and then he speaks, his voice breaking, tinged with an underlying vulnerability. "Please. Just, look at me." He pleads.

You clench your jaw, your hands gripping the edges of your suitcase. You turn around, meeting his gaze with a steely expression.

You swear your heart breaks. He’s frowning, and he looks on the verge of tears.

Stupid. This was so, so stupid.

“Look. Nothing is going on. Nothing happened, ok? I'm fine.” You say, though it's a blatant lie. You grab your sweater and book, considering pushing past him again on your way out as you speak.

You don't want to carry on like this. It hurt.

“Yeah, sure," Theodore replies, his voice now strained and forced into an artificial calm. "Nothing happened."

You want to believe it, to believe that you can bury the complicated mess of emotions that surged to the surface earlier. As you step into the hallway, you take a deep breath, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Theodore follows suit, and together you make your way downstairs to join the others. The air is thick with tension, but the group seems oblivious, immersed in arguments over food.

Pansy looks at you curiously, her keen eyes noting the shift in dynamics, but she chooses not to pry. Blaise seems absorbed in his thoughts, Lorenzo is engaged in animated conversation with Mattheo, and Draco appears indifferent to the subtle changes in the atmosphere.

No one notices anything, and you're very convinced it's because nothing really existed in the first place. You walk over to where Matteho is sitting on the sofa and take a seat next to him. He wraps an arm around you, drawing you in close as he continues speaking to Lorenzo.

“Hey, stimp.” Mattheo says, rubbing your arm as he looks down at you.

Sidenote: The nickname stimp originated from when Pansy had gone through a phase of calling everyone ‘stink’. You had no idea what she was saying and thought she was calling everyone stimp. You were relentlessly tormented by the group for thinking so, and it's stuck since then (courtesy of Mattheo.)

“Hey.” You mumble into his chest. He chuckles, fiddling with your hair lightly as he goes back to his conversation with Lorenzo.

Your mind (as it so often did) lingers back to Theodore. Your stomach aches because of it.

He's a tempest, a tempest that lingers in the recesses of your soul, tearing through the tranquillity with an unrelenting force.

You're weary, though these past few days with Theodore have made you constantly feel that way. You become tuned out from the conversations of your friends, feeling oddly like a spectator.

Your eyes grow heavy, and whether it's to your dismay or relief, you fall asleep with Theodore on your mind.

You could have sworn you fell asleep in the living room, curled into Mattheo. So when your eyes flicker open, and you're blinking wearily, sitting up in your bed, you're heavily disoriented.

A sleepy groan escapes your lips as you gingerly sit up, looking around. Theodore is lying in his bed, and you're very quickly aware of the fact that he separated them.

His eyes flicker over to yours at the sound of you stirring, a book loosely held in his hands.

Your eyes flicker down to the cover of the book and you're surprised at how quickly you feel sick again. It was getting rather tiring, really.

How long was he reading for? Was he thinking of you as he read? Did he read and look over at you?

“I saved some food for you.” He says after a beat. He looks at you, as though he wants to say more, and you see the conflict in his mind. He looks back down, and you feel slightly disappointed.

“Thanks.” You croak quietly, gingerly slipping out of bed. You sit on the edge for a second, back facing Theodore as you orient yourself for a bit before you slide on some slippers. You yawn and get up, tossing the covers back as you make your way downstairs. You blindly grope the walls as you warily descend the stairs in the pitch-black darkness, praying you didn't send yourself tumbling down.

Your fingers brush against a light switch and you let out a small sigh of relief as you flick the lights on.

God, how late was it?

You finally manage to stumble into the kitchen, the warm lights illuminating the otherwise barren place. The house is silent, and you assume it must be very late, judging by the way your friends (who almost exclusively lived between the hours of 11:00 - 02:00) were not awake. You shouldn't be eating at this time, especially because you planned to sleep right after, but you were starving and hadn't eaten prior.

You open what you assume to be the fridge (because god forbid rich people be like the rest of us and have normal-looking things), and see two small containers and a pizza box. You're impressed Draco (who though incredibly slender seemed to have the appetite of a growing giant) hadn't eaten it yet. You open the pizza box first and feel immediately better when you see the order. It's exactly what you like, there's garlic butter on the crust, and olives on every slice. There are tomatoes but it's on the side because you hate cooked tomatoes, and there's your favourite sauce as well (Blaise almost cried bloody murder when he saw you dipping your pizza in mayo a few years ago. You swore it was good.)

With a small smile on your face, you peer into the other two containers. One is full of strawberries, and your mouth waters.

You absolutely adored strawberries, and these looked plump and fresh, a far cry from the sad little things you'd get in Hogsmeade, on rare occasions. You can't resist biting into one and letting out a small groan of satisfaction as you do.

This had to be what heaven felt like, surely. You swore these alone could make you ascend. You pull out the container and snack on some, looking up as you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. Pansy yawns as she saunters into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. She's evidently sleepy, reaching for a glass of water as she speaks.

“You're finally up.” She mumbles groggily, leaning against the counter.

You nod.

“Woke up a few minutes ago. Thank you for ordering some pizza for me. You got it spot on.” You say with a small smile, and Pansy dismisses you with a small flick of her hand, as she sets the glass down.

“Oh no no, it wasn't me. We all ordered some sushi because Blaise knew a place. Theodore went out and got all that for you. He disappeared for like three bloody hours and we thought he got kidnapped or something. Turns out it’s very hard to find a good pizza place here.” Pansy says.

You blink in surprise at Pansy’s revelation. You have to stop yourself from dropping your jaw because you couldn't deal with her question right now, especially because…

What the fuck?

Why? How?

Why?

You can barely comprehend Theodore could remember all those things about you. Little things that you yourself wouldn't even notice. By the looks of it even your closest friend, Pansy, didn't even know that.

He went out of his way to get that for you?

It's an odd mixture of emotions — appreciation, confusion, and a tinge of frustration. Frustration because he was being so damn confusing. Ignoring you but then knowing everything about you. Not talking to you and then confessing he's been searching for you in everything he does. Remaining distant but doing things that made your heart flutter and guilt flood your being.

Pansy is watching you intently, ever observant. She gives you a once over, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

“Night then.” She says, turning back to go to her room.

Even Pansy, who was ever known for being careless and prying, knew right now that this was something that went so much further than her best friend having a silly crush on someone. She didn’t need to know the history between you and Theodore to know this was something serious, and her reserved and understanding behaviour only seemed to scare you more. You remain staring off for a second as she retreats before you close the container, slipping it back into the fridge

(You'd hex Draco's teeth onto his toes if he dared to touch them.)

You make your way back up to your room, and by the time you enter Theodore is no longer reading, rather he's asleep in his bed.

His bedside lamp is off, but yours is on. You look at him for a second, and you're grateful that he's asleep because you didn't know what to say, or how to face him. You quietly retreat into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth before slipping back into the bedroom. You slip under the covers of your bed, tugging the blanket over you as you sink into the infuriatingly comfy mattress (How you'd be able to find sleep again back at Hogwarts after this, you never knew. This made your dorm bed feel like you were sleeping on a slab of concrete. If this home isn't being used by Pansy and her family till the holiday, you seriously considered breaking in and living here in the meantime.)

You and Theo are sleeping on opposite sides of the room, backs facing away from one another. Your bed is facing the window, which you're glad about because you couldn't sleep otherwise. A small voice in your mind questions if that was Theodore’s doing as well.

The silence is broken as you speak, words you only dare to utter because Theodore is asleep.

“Thank you.” You whisper, quietly.

Silence follows, and you let out a small breath because, of course, there's silence, Theodore is asleep. You find your own eyes drifting shut very quickly, slipping away into sleep.

You feel as though you're sinking, and you can't tell if it's because you're tired or spiralling.

In the quiet darkness, you find yourself teetering on the cusp of sleep. You're in that nearly there phase, where you feel simultaneously weightless and heavy. You're half-conscious, dreams blurring the line of reality. You're drifting away, and you swear you hear a whisper, gentle and barely audible in a voice that sounds very similar to Theodore.

"Always."

@camille-1019

#harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #theo #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott angst #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson

[blehrbie-blog]

Neteyam x Reader story

Sooo, I haven't written anything in genuine years. But after watching Avatar:TWOW I've become hyperfixated and have been scrolling and refreshing the Neteyam x Reader tag basically since the movie came out. As a consequence I've had this idea in the back of my mind that I thought was very sweet and cute (something we all need after that movie) so I decided to sit down and give it a go and see what comes out of my brain. So here it is. I haven't properly edited it and it's pretty much a 1000 words of word vomit and a bunch of time skips but it made me happy to write so I'm sharing it.

Oh, BTW SPOILERS!! but also I don't stick to the event's of the movie so idk I'm just putting it out there in case someone hasn't watched the trailer.

So the idea is our girl meets Neteyam informally for the first time when they're 9. She gets cornered in the jungle by a Palulukan and Neteyam helps her run away from it. She had always known who he is being the firstborn son of the Toruk Makto. She remembers her mom telling her about the big ceremony the Tribe had when he was first born. Everyone knew him.

- You shouldn't go into Palulukan territory without being careful - he says, looking a bit unsure about her now that there's no imminent danger.

- I didn't know I was in its territory

 - Don't wander off too far on your own then.

___________________________

After this meeting, you get closer and become friends, which means as a consequence you occasionally hang out with the rest of Neteyam's family. However, as he gets older and his Dad starts preparing him to be a warrior and later on Lo'ak as well you don't have as much time to spend as you once did laughing and roaming around in the jungle exploring thick forests and shallow pools of water. It's not like you have nothing to do with your life, you do! You've been thinking of taking up lessons from the Tsahik, to see how you can use the spirit of Eywa and nature to help people who are hurting. It just so happens that the Tsahik is Neteyam's grandmother so you sometimes end up seeing him come back from a mission with his father and you share sweet smiles from across the camp.

When the tribe moves to the floating rocks, you are required by the Tsahik to help those injured from the journey and the ones getting used to the new terrain. So you're even more often in the same circles. As you're working one day about to go over to help Ninat with her sprained ankle, someone taps you on the shoulder

-You seem busy with work. - says Neteyam smiling sweetly at you

-Oh! Yes, I was just about to start. How's your training going?

You hadn't spoken in a while, just a quick wave or nod when crossing paths throughout the day. You hadn't noticed but he towers over you by a couple inches now. He nods towards his dad who's speaking with Neytiri at the edge of their tent.

-You know, just the usual responsibilities of carrying on the legacy. - His eyes gaze into you softly, like he's memorizing your face after not seeing it for long. He shakes it off and looks down - Have you got many tasks today?

-Not too much actually, just need to check up on Ninat and prepare some medicinal salves.

- I want to see you later – He looks back up into your eyes and smiles – Maybe we can go on one of our expeditions like before.

You chuckle – Sure, I'd love that.

With a final nod of approval, he stalks away to his parent's side.

When you meet later towards sunset he's waiting patiently with his Ikran by the vines connecting the Hallelujah Mountains to the Jungle below.

-We won't go too far out into the jungle so we have time to come back before sunrise. - He says as he connects his Queue with the Ikran and gazes at you expectantly – Hop on.

Can I trust that I'll come back alive from this flight? - you raise a skeptical eyebrow. He only went through his Iknimaya ritual not too long ago.

He reaches out a hand to help you up onto the animal – I don't think Eywa would forgive me if I wasted you on a simple flight.

You smile warmly into his shoulder as you hold tight onto him feeling the powerful animal shift under you as you fly out.

Roughly 10 years later

____________________________

When he comes back from the Mitkayina islands. He's taller and broader and his hair is much longer pulled into a loose braid around his Queue. You have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you first see him. He's magnificent and commanding in his presence. The tribe has gathered all around to accept him and Jake back with a warm welcome. And even though you're hidden by your fellow Na'vi, his eyes immediately find you in the crowd and issue an eager and warm smile on his face.

As soon as he has settled the greetings with the current Olo'eyktan and the Tsahik, he finds you – walking to your sleeping pod. You would have gone to say hello and see him up close but, honestly, you were a bit intimidated. What you now knew was a childhood infatuation with him all those years ago still couldn't handle seeing him all of a sudden in all his... perfect glory. You were a little intimidated. But that doesn't stop him from reaching out for you. You see him jog over with a grin. He grabs you by the shoulders about to pull you into a hug but stops himself at the last moment. His eyes roam you over from head to toe and he looks up with glistening eyes -You've grown! - His tone sounds almost unbelieving

-That tends to happen as time passes, yes – you chuckle, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. His strong arms.

-I'm not too sure what I expected you to look like but you're... way beyond any expectation – He sounds so awe-struck as he's still taking you in, that you start to feel a little embarrassed.

-I can say the exact same thing – You say as you meet his gaze again. As you do his face softens and he brings you into his arms finally.

-I missed you, my friend.

Your hand caresses his hair gently – I missed you too.

You break apart and you decide to go for some late food with him abandoning your plans of sleep.

_______________________

Months later, when they have their first kiss. It's a slow thing. He will say something dry-humoured in his soft voice and she'll forget to laugh too busy staring at him, realizing how in love she is. And has been all these years. And when he notices that she hasn't replied he'll look at her and know immediately. That she's realized, at last. And he'll come to hold her like she's the most precious thing in his world. He'll thread his fingers through her hair bringing her face close to his. Forehead pressed to hers, patiently waiting for her to join him in the reality he has been living. Where they have loved each other for a while, longed and missed unbelievably because of it, and are finally able to bask in it. The warm smiles and looks, the casual closeness that not being apart allows. The things he has been dreaming of. He looks at her lips and back at her eyes, pulling back slightly to give her some space. Maybe she's not entirely understanding his feelings, maybe she's too caught up in her own to recognize his signs, he thinks, ready to give her all the time- When she grabs his neck and drags him back to her. - Neteyam... – her eyes are glossy like she's about to cry. So he caresses her cheeks gently and finally presses their lips sweetly together. And he can not compare it to any other feeling he has ever experienced. It's not like loving her, that's easy and at the same time overwhelming. It has brought him to the point that he is ready to lay down his life and all of his family's expectations to travel back to the tribe just to see her. To be reunited. But this feeling, this kiss is like knowing, that he won't be alone in his love and he can give her his all, his soul. They stay there, lost in the sweetness of being together like never before until the sun has long set and the moon has long risen.

_______________________

That is it! I do realise I keep skipping between tenses, I apologise if anyone finds it annoying and hope you enjoyed!

Edit: I thought it might be useful to put a link to part 2 down here so: Next

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #avatar 2 #reader insert #x reader #female reader #neteyam #jake sully #neteyam x omaticaya!reader

[mid-stars]

Dan heng x reader

Lingering moment

Today fated at last. .. Across the Aeons and the stars.. You finally died.

The moment of your death was no news towards others.. Especially not to dan Heng.. Dan Heng... Your friend, your lover.. Your home...

Home... "Home will always be whenever we are together" is what you would say.. But you were gone.. No longer around to see him, to see them..

"Dan Heng." Himeko held his shoulder, he didn't say a word. Himeko nodded and left him be. The funeral was held during a special day, your anniversary. Dan Heng held onto your favourite flowers, grown and fresh just by him. Even the stellaron hunters came by to see your death.

Despite blade's longing for it.. He knew you were a great companion to all of them. Despite all of their wrongdoings you never hated them and helped them in a way. Sneak out sessions with silver wolf, shopping with Kafka, and even death talks with blade.. It was a shame you had left them.

Dan Heng had forgotten when your death had started. One moment he was in your arms, the next you were in his. You were just a grasp away and he failed.. He failed. Failed. Failed...

The first month was hard, he didn't eat until he was forced to, became even more silent, locked himself in your room, and wouldn't stop giving you simple notes.

The second month was a bit better, he came out a little more, ate regularly, talked a bit more and went into your room less. But even so, everyone could see the hollow in his eyes.

A knock was on the door when he was looking into your room "who is it?" He said with hidden annoyance "dan Heng, I found a letter for you" himeko said while sliding in some mail under the door for him. He picked it up.

---

From : [name]

To : Dan heng

---

Dan Heng slowly opened it, afraid it might break like a gentle glass. He squeezed the paper as he read through the words

----

Dear dan Heng.

You might have noticed that by the time you've received this letter. I may have already died. A pity, I had wished a long life with you.. I know how you'd react to this "[name], stop playing around" and so on and so forth. I loved every moment with you. The way you would cup my cheeks, the way you would slowly kiss me through the maple trees.. Oh how I've missed you.. But you've missed me more..

Remember the day where you first board the express? It was a delightful day.. The day you found a home.. Home.. Home will always be wherever you and I are together.. But I cannot be your home forever dan Heng..

You love me right? Then grant me my last wish. Live on a life without me dan Heng.. Don't hold back the things you want to do just because you miss me.. Because I would be heartbroken to see you like that...

XOXO hellebore.

----

"Dan Heng! What are you reading?" March exclaims as she tries to grab the paper "It's nothing of concern, March." Dan Heng puts the paper back in the envelope leaving March and the trailblazer dumbfounded. Right.. Your death was only a year ago

"Well... Whatever. Dan heng, Mr. Yang sent us to tell you we found a new recruit" the trailblazer says as they played their game. Dan Heng nodded, and kept putting his other files away. "We'll send the new recruit here, so you'll be able to have a little chat" March says as they both ran out of the room

Dan Heng scrolls back to the memory file you both had created for yourselves, one where he first was on the express, the first date, the second date, first month anniversary, your birthday, and "and you've kept your promise.."

Dan Heng turned around to see.. You.. "I'm back..." You smile.

-------

Hellebore flowers usually grow next to maple trees. And it is symbolized to be a meaning of peace, serenity and tranquility.

#dan heng angst #honkai star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng x you #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng #gender neutral reader #gn reader #hsr #hsr men #x reader

[m4ttsturn]

my brother's best friend (pt 1)

pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

pairing: matt sturniolo x y/n

summary: over the years you find yourself falling more in love with your brother's best friend.

warnings: none yet

this is the first story I've ever written, so sorry if it's bad. anyway, hope you guys enjoy.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

(the first day i saw him)

"mom!" I ran down the stairs. "yeah, what do you need?" "where's Nate? he said he would go to the movies with me over an hour ago." I was beginning to get upset, Nate promised that he would take me to see Spider-Man Homecoming with him. "I'm not sure, he said he would be home by 5" she responded. I let out a heavy sigh before walking out of the kitchen.

I went into the living room and sat on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on my phone. I watched as the minutes on the clock slowly ticked by, my eyes flicking to the front door every few seconds. it had been 3 hours before Nate had finally showed up, laughing as he walked through the door. three boys followed close behind him.

"dude that movie was so good" Nate said as he kicked off his shoes. "yeah, I still can't believe the way Spider-Man saved the Avenger's plane" one of the other boys spoke. I coughed loudly drawing the attention of my brother and his friends in the entryway. making eye contact with Nate, his face flashing with realization. "oh shit, y/n I'm so sor-" Nate tried to speak, but I stood up abruptly off the couch walking to my room and slamming the door.

the second I closed the door I could feel my eyes watering. it was one thing for Nate to blow of our plans because his practice ran late or something, but for him to go without me even though we had planned this out ever since the trailer came out, hurt. especially since he went with three people I've never met instead.

I jumped onto my bed, burying my face into the pillows. I could hear four sets of footsteps approaching my bedroom before someone knocked on the door. I knew it was Nate because he used the secret knock combination we came up with in order to tell if it was each other or our parents knocking. "go away Nate" my voice was muffled by the pillow. Nate had opened the door anyway, "y/n look I'm sorry, I totally forgot that we were planning to go to the movies today" I turned to face him when he spoke "yeah, yeah whatever Nate."

I glanced around him, taking in the appearance of his friends, each looking similar, but I could tell the differences once I looked a little longer. I made eye contact with the boy who was standing behind them all, almost not visible. I blushed and turned my head away so none of them could see it. "you can go, you obviously want to hang out with these people more than me anyway." Nate gave me a sad expression before walking out of my room, closing the door behind him. as I listened to the sounds of footsteps furthering from my door I decided to read a book instead of wallowing around.

the next time I looked at the clock it read 12:37 am. I decided that I might as well call it a night and changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of women's boxers. assuming that Nate's friends had gone home by now, I didn't bother to put on something more presentable as I left my room to grab a glass of water.

when I walked into the kitchen I was met with three pairs of eyes on me, with Nate being in the bathroom. "oh, you guys are still here" I uttered as I went to grab a glass. ''yep, seems like it" the one with longer hair spoke. my back was to them as I filled up the cup with water from the fridge. once finished I turned around to face the three boys. "look I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude, its just that Nate promised me he would take me to see that movie months ago. anyway I'm y/n." holding out my hand to them. The one with a nose ring takes it first "Nick" he shook my hand. "I'm Chris" the one with long hair spoke, dapping me up. "and you?" I turned to the last boy, realizing it's the one that I locked eyes with earlier. "Matt" he smiled slightly as he took my hand. my face flushed feeling the electricity buzzing through my fingertips.

"okay well nice to meet you guys, but I'm off to bed. tell Nate that I said he better take me to see that movie tomorrow, I don't care if he just watched it." "will do" Chris spoke, Matt and Nick nodded along. I headed back towards my room and closed the door, still thinking about the feeling of Matt's hand on mine. "well this is going to be a problem" I mumbled to myself before shutting off the light and snuggling under my covers.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nate had brought the triplets over again, many times over the next few years. each time my crush on Matt grew a little stronger. besides that I had actually gained a friendship with all of them.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

a/n: I'm probably going to move this story on pretty quickly I just wanted to get a little backstory out first.

let me know if there is anything I can do to write better, criticism is appreciated

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

[emgavi]

Hii wanted to request a gavi x fem reader whereby they are dating and the reader sees rumours of him and Princess Leonor and she gets jealous and he reassures her (smut pleasee) take your time love :))

Mi Renia (Gavi x reader)

hope you enjoy! <3

[ps. not really any smut cause i've never written it before but there is some action ;) ]

“Okay so how about this one?” Madelyn asked you, holding up the fashion magazine to show you an outfit she considered getting. Looking at the picture squinting your eyes, you nodded your head. “Looks cute” Madelyn smiled in satisfaction at your answer. That’s when the TV volume caught your attention. 

“Gossip Daily News reports new couple alert???, recently news has been flying around that Princess Leonor from the royal family of Spain has a big crush on football star Gavi”

Your head turned watching the report, surprised not that another girl was crushing on your boyfriend but that they assumed that they would become a couple. Sure, how could they know that you and Gavi have been dating for 2 years when you’ve been keeping it a secret from the public. Both of you value having your early dating days to be private. But now, you were leaning to make it public after 2 years 

“Wow Gavi actually has the princess of Spain falling for him” Madelyn tells you, also looking at the screen. Nudging you on the shoulder, “you better watch out before she makes him the next king of Spain” she says jokingly. 

Little did she know it, jealousy was starting to creep in the more you watched the report and your best friend's comments didn’t help either. Shaking your head, you tried to act normal. “Heh yeah no, like that would happen” you said but feeling a hint of doubt as you said it. 

“I’m just joking y/n, Gavi loves you too much to do that,'' she said, going back to looking at her magazine. You just nodded your head, remaining silent, negative thoughts swirling in your head.

______________________

Scrolling on your phone you see another article about the Princess liking Gavi, this was the 5th one just this day, and you were having enough. Rolling your eyes at the horrible photoshopped picture that one of the articles had of them together. You got out of instagram and went to try to call Gavi, thinking he probably was finishing up with practice and in the locker rooms. Hoping hearing his voice will calm you down.

It ringed and ringed then went to voicemail. You sighed, he probably was still at practice. 

Moments later, you hear the door to your apartment open. “Amor, I'm back,” Gavi called out.

“In the living room’ you responded.

He walked in with his practice gear smiling at you, showing you his cute dimples. He went to you and gave you a quick kiss. “¿Cómo estás mi querida?” he said sitting next to you on the couch.

Leaning on his side, he wrapped his arm around you. ‘I tried to call you not long ago, but other than that peachy’ He frowned, grabbing his phone from his pocket, “ah i’m sorry mi amor, my ringer was off, we had a special meeting today after practice’ he said, giving a kiss to your head. 

Looking up at him, ‘it’s okay ,what was the meeting about?” you say playing with his fingers intertwined in yours. “Apparently the national team players are going to meet with the royal family to congratulate us for our appearance at the world cup’ Gavi told you.

You stopped and started to feel the jealousy creep back again at the mention of royal, knowing that would most likely include the princess who has a crush on him. “Oh… does that mean the princesses are going to be there?Have you heard the news recently?’ you said hesitantly, worrying that Gavi has liked hearing the news and thought of the possibility being with her. 

Gavi did a tiny laugh, “well, si pero it’s just gossip and even if it is true, I have you with me carino, don’t worry”. You gave him a small smile, “I know, I'm happy though for you and the guys, you are getting the recognition you deserve’ telling him softly. 

He smiles at you, giving you a kiss which you gladly reciprocate. “Gracias y/n, te amo” he said to you, gazing into your eyes. “Te amo tambien”

______

Today was the day Gavi and his national teammates would go to the royal family’s home for a special dinner. Sadly you weren’t able to go to Madrid with Gavi because your work permitted you to. They were going to be there for a week for the monthly camp and then the royal dinner. So instead of being with your boyfriend, camping out in his hotel room, you were stuck in your apartment, on your laptop with the royal dinner broadcast on your TV. 

You very much disliked being away from Gavi especially knowing he was most likely going to meet the princess that supposedly has a crush on him. Turning to the screen you see the broadcast start, showing the national team’s bus driving to the royal palace. 

All the members of the royal family stood outside to greet them, as they got out of the bus. Friendly smiles and handshakes, you saw each one given to the players, then you saw your Gavi shake hands with the king, the queen, and finally after the last princess, the famous princess leonor. 

You could see the blush on the princess’s face when Gavi shook her hand and gave her a smile. Feeling the ugly pit in your stomach again brew. Finally after all the greetings, they went inside, then a new camera angle showed the royals showing the players around the palace. Again you see princess Leonor walking closely by Gavi and attempting to make small talk with him. Ughhhh

After a while the broadcast showed them finally sitting down for dinner, and you didn’t fail to notice the arranged seating arrangement, gavi next to you know who. Rolling your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, you continued working on your laptop, listening to the TV as background noise. 

Looking up for just a minute to the TV screen, you see Gavi and Leonor laughing together where they are sitting, seeing her inch her seat closer to Gavi in the process. Having enough you turned off the TV, opting to go for a walk outside to try to get rid of these feelings. 

You grab your jacket and keys and head out to the nearest park. While walking you try to get yourself to calm down from the emotions. While you knew the princess had no idea Gavi was in a relationship because you both were still private, you still hated seeing on national television her openly flirting with your boyfriend. You couldn’t even imagine the headlines in the paper the next days torturing you. 

Trusting Gavi was never the problem, you knew he loved you, but you couldn’t stop yourself from comparing you to the young royal. She was everything you weren’t and better in your eyes, regardless of being one year younger than you. Sighing you decided to head back home as daylight started to fade in the darkness. 

______

It was still 3 days until Gavi would come back from Madrid doing national camp, and during that time your social feed was filled with pictures of the princess and Gavi together from that night. A bunch of accounts shipping the two and others making up dating rumors between them. It was so much that it got to you, into your head. You started to ignore Gavi’s texts and calls. Feeling like he would be better off in a way with her and not you. After a while you thought, What could you offer to him? You were just a normal girl , with a normal job, nowhere known in the public eye. While she was a princess, a PRINCESS. Literally she could have her own disney fairy tale if she wanted.

Unknowingly to you, Gavi was getting more and more concerned on his end. He was confused and hurt why you weren’t answering his texts or calls. Every chance he got he tried to call you but nothing. So he tried the next best thing, he got Pedri’s phone to call you, knowing that Pedri was one of your best friends now. Sure enough to his dismay, after almost the final ring, you answered

“Hello?” he heard your voice say for the first time in a while. 

“Why have you not been answering my calls or texts?’ Gavi started off, feeling ticked 

‘Gavi? I thought this was Pedri’s number?’ 

“You didn’t answer my question y/n, porque?” he said desperately trying to find an answer

You signed on the line, “i don’t know i - - just- i don’t know Gavi’ you spoke, feeling a bit embarrassed to admit that you were jealous. 

‘Well it has to be something because it’s making you do this crap, do you know how concerned I've been not hearing from you??? The whole time even after the royal dinner, you have been radio silent with me but you answer for Pedri, que es pasando? ” he said with a tone that was a little more harsh than he intended. 

The mention of the royal family and the tone of his voice made you snap, already at your breaking point without Gavi knowing. “if im making you so concerned why don’t you just go to the princess, she’ll make you much happier at this point!” 

Gavi, stunned at your sudden outburst and realizing what really was going on, “que?, mi amo-” Before he could finish you hung up the phone, now stuck in your feelings of insecurity, jealousy and self-inflicted hurt feelings. Curling up in your bed, you tried to swallow in your self pity

_____

It’s been a day since that call with Gavi. You feel horrible for throwing all of your bad emotions on him but you couldn’t bring yourself to call him back, worrying that he hates you now. You probably gave him the chance to go after the princess. 

The ring from your doorbell stopped you from furthering down the hole in your head. Groaning when a loud knock is followed by it. Lifting up from your bed, you head to the door. Opening it you see the last person you expect to see at your doorstep. 

“y/n… are you okay? Have you eaten?” Gavi said, immediately worrying seeing you looking disheveled. You just shook your head in response, “Gavi, why are you here, aren’t you supposed to be in Madrid?” 

 He walked into your apartment ,which you let him. “I had to come and see you after our last call, why did you hang up on me amor? Tell me what’s wrong?” Gavi said pleadingly 

“It’s stupid… i’m sorry i didn’t mean to, it’s just i -” you choked up on your words, feeling the emotions well up in you again. Gavi saw this and quickly went to you, pulling you in his arms. As tears started to fall on your cheeks as he held you, he tried to calm you down. 

“Mi amor, if it’s about what I think it is, you don’t have to worry about that, i love you querida” he said in your hair.

Closing your eyes to try to stop the tears, you held on to him. “But, she's more better than me, in everything, I mean she’s a princess. Everybody all around me says that you and her would be better together, and all of the pictures, maybe they’re right.” you cried in his chest. Hearing you say this made him felt your pain, hating that you were drowning in these kinds of thoughts. 

Holding you tighter in his arms, kissing your forehead,”y/n/n, bebe, she may be a princess but you are la renia to my heart, el amor de mi vida. mi amor you are so much better, please believe me when i say you are so perfect for me and I can’t even imagine not being with anyone else but you.” he told you softly 

“But -” you started but he cut you off

“No buts querida, i love you and only you” he says. You just hugged him tighter. 

Knowing that you still had doubt in your head, Gavi wanted to crush it all tonight. Pulling just a bit to look in your eyes, “let me show you how much I love you, mi amor” he whispered softly leaning slowly to kiss your lips. 

He kissed you,giving you a slow passionate kiss, putting all his love in it. You kissed him back just as much, Your hands going to his cheeks while his hands went to your waist. As your kissing intensified, his hands slowly went under your shirt, shivering at the feel of his hands moving up on your bare skin. Pulling away for a moment, he gave you a look asking for your approval to continue further. You nodded your head at him, love in his eyes as he slowly lifted your shirt up while you did the same with his shirt. 

Tossing it to the floor, his lips went straight to your neck, kissing up and down your neck to your jaw, then back to your lips again. More layers of clothing falling to the floor as hot breaths can be heard in the room. Lifting you up in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he leads you to your bedroom while never letting go of your lips.

_______

You woke up to the light coming in from the curtains. Squinting your eyes you tried to get up a little but failed to do so by Gavi’s strong arm wrapped around your waist. The movement wakes him up, sighing softly pulling your body closer to his body. Kissing your bare shoulder, “bon dia amor” Turning around to face him, “bon dia’ you say softly, smiling and staring into his brown doe eyes. You leaned up to kiss him softly before curling more into him. Taking in his warmth since the thin sheets covering your naked bodies did hardly anything for the Barcelona cold temperatures. Last night Gavi sure showed you how much he loves you, while also whispering soft assurances the entire time. You had no more doubt in your mind, Gavi made all of them disappear. 

Feeling Gavi’s arm move to the night stand grabbing his phone, you kept your eyes closed leaning next to him. Hearing him type away, you finally looked to see what he was doing. You see his instagram page open. “Whatcha doing bebe?” you said

He looked at you, kissing your nose, “why don’t you look for yourself” he said handing you his phone. There you saw a post he just made with a picture of you two together, the one that you took on your 1st year anniversary on the beach, you both smiling stupidly at each other as the sunset is behind you. Surprised that he posted that, you looked down to see the caption, it read 

“Mi renia ❤️” 

“I wanted the world to finally know that I already found my queen,” he said, laying his head on the top of your head and caressing your hand. You raised his hand to your lips, kissing his hand, ‘te amo”. Giving you his smile only reserved for you, “y te amo tambien, mucho”  

You both then hear your phone dinging like crazy, notifying you that you now had a bunch of new followers and eyes on you now that you and Gavi were out. Wrapping the sheet over your head, not wanting to deal with it during this moment. Gavi just laughed at your reaction and got under with you.  “The price to love me” he said jokingly while you just rolled your eyes at him pushing his face away playfully. 

#pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #football fanfic #spain football x reader #football imagine #football imagines

[magidoggie]

A LOOK INTO SHI/HIR PRONOUNS AND THEIR ORIGINS

So I’ve seen people claim that shi/hir pronouns are intersex exclusive (mostly intersex people), and others say they aren’t (mostly non-intersex people)

As an intersex person, I've been confused about this for a while, so I decided to look into it

THIS POST WILL CONTAIN NSFW TOPICS, FURRIES, TALKS OF FETISHIZATION OF INTERSEX BODIES, AND INTERSEX SLURS!

Most of the users of these pronouns seem to be non-intersex people, but there are also intersex people who use them.

I've seen a decent amount of intersex people say that shi/hir pronouns are only ours to use, as they were used against us (like a shortened version of he-she). This would make them basically slurs that only we can reclaim.

I've even seen some claims that Geoffrey Chaucer himself coined these words?? (The chaucer thing, I haven't been able to find a source for. Even so, it is most likely just an old spelling of "she/her")

I’ve seen people say it originated on 4chan. It'd be hard to verify, as 4chan is known for not keeping threads up for long. There are 4chan archives, but I've tried my hardest to look for any combinations of things like "shi" and different terms that could work with it like "intersex" "freak" or "hermaphrodite" . I don't doubt it's been used on 4chan, but I can't find much, and archival sites don't go back far enough.

Regardless, the pronouns seem quite old. One thing I did find under the search of ""4chan" shi hir" on Google, was a.. descriptive post on a furry porn website called e621.net

Okay, 13 years ago, that's a start. It certainly contains the word "herm" (short for hermaphrodite), and the word intersex used with this pronoun.

Godspeed TheShadowfox42 I hope you found the image.

Using Google's "Before:(date)" feature, I searched "shi herm before:2010", and unsurprisingly, I found a lot of furry porn.

Stories on sofurry.com, a furry website that looks to be from at least 2007, if not older. I'll spare you the details, but indeed, there, they use shi/hir pronouns for their "herm" characters. Did these pronouns originate from.. furries?? I put that though aside for now, to look further into other uses.

As it turns out, the journey does not end at 2007. Urban dictionary has an entry from 2003

No slurs here, it looks like a neutral usage. Again, going back to Google. Now, search terms "hir "gender neutral" before:2004"

Many results show up now, now articles rather than furries. American.edu (seems to be a university), Swarthmore.edu (this is a college), both from 2001. jstor.org with a journal article from 1999. Unfortunately I can't read that one, as I have to pay a whole $63 to purchase it. I even found a PDF file from 1994 by core.ac.uk

But, what I've realized now is this is not usage of shi/hir pronouns. All of these use Ze/hir pronouns. I don't know if there is any link, but the last pronoun looking the same must've obscured the results.

From the american.edu article on these pronouns. You can see the usage of "hir" alongside "ze", and below it, the usage of ze/zir pronouns, which seem to be used more today.

Shit.. Doing the search all over again with the pronoun "shi" yields.. very few results apart from people talking about Chinese words.

Wait what about those furries from earlier? The tvtropes.org article does include this:

Chakona space? Chakats? Pronouns he came up with? Admittedly I kept seeing these centaur feline hybrid characters come up quite consistently during this dive, but I had to look into it further.

Oh buddy what did I get myself into. This is from 2001 best I can tell, so we're getting quite old here. I scroll down on the page.

And lower down.

Now this is all very interesting speculative biology, but what I'm focusing on is again, the usage of "hermaphrodite" together with the pronouns "shi/hir". Did a furry artist named Bernard Doove come up with these pronouns.

It gets yet older.. New search, "chakats "shi" before:2001"

Again, Bernard Doove's art from 2000, 1999, 1998,

I find a website called yerf.metafur.org It has furry art, dating all the way back to the mid 1990's, but here, on December 23 1998, is the first appearance of these pronouns on that site.

This Bernard Doove person has been at this project, with these pronouns for a while.

From what I can tell, many of his art pieces, they seem to be quite sexual beings. Quite fetishistic of hermaphroditism at times. (or intersexuality, take your pick)

The other thing I found with my search was a website, furry.org.au/bosshoss/

My search says it's from September 14 1998.

That's certainly some information, but it might come in handy. So Chakat Goldfur provided this website? Who is that? Looking into it, that seems to be a character created by Bernard Doove, that acts as an alter ego. Further down, the person running this website lists some other websites they enjoy. One being "Proxima Centauri", which seems to be another furry artist.

"I met this one at ConFURence 8. Very interesting. (Did I mention shi is a hermaphrodite uni-centaur?)"

(For context, ConFURence is a furry convention held in 1997)

Again, the usage of hermaphrodite, and the pronoun shi. At this point, the website being linked to is long gone, but the wayback machine provides help. The website, http://www.spots.ab.ca/~unicorn/main.htm has been captured all the way back to October 8th 1997.

At this time, the website was under construction. No images are willing to load and haven't been archived, but the description is intact.

So this person uses shi/hir pronouns for their hermaphroditic character all the way back in 1997. There are links to other places where this person used to host their works, but they are all down and haven't been archived. The thread is running thin..

Back to Bernard Doove, the Chakat creator. There must be something more to this. Turns out, there was. On the "yerf" website, I actually found several art pieces that were not picked up by Google.

Febuary 22 1997. Getting yet older. In some art pieces, Bernard references "Forest Tale" and "forest tales", so I went looking for whatever that was.

1995?? you've got to be kidding. It's an adult story involving these "chakat" beings, and sure enough, down the page

Shi/hir pronouns used over and over again.

With the use of hermaphrodite.

But.. This is kind of where it ends. I couldn't seem to find anything older, and I'm not going to contact Bernard Doove over this. Even something as old as 29 years is impressive to me. Bernard Doove states his characters were inspired by other furry artists' creatures of the time, but since it's 1995, there isn't much left for me to find here. Anything before that time is probably lost.

With all the information I have been able to gather, it looks to shi/hir pronouns were created by Bernard Doove who is a furry author and artist. Shi/hir were made to be a midway between "she" and "him" in some way, to be a gender neutral word for hermaphroditic genetically modified beings called "chakats" in his stories. As an intersex person myself, I don't enjoy the use of "hermaphrodite" in such a way, as it's a slur for us. But these types of characters also seem to be very old, and we, and our struggles, were completely unknown to the vast majority of people, even moreso than nowadays.

If you use those pronouns for an intersex person who doesn't use them, it is indeed intersexist, as you are implying we are hermaphrodites.

But as for whether only intersex people can use them? I'm not sure. The original intent doesn't seem be directly linked to intersex people. You could argue that these hermaphroditic characters are fetishized versions of how many people see us, and have seen us for a long time. Afterall, hermaphrodite was, and still is, a common slur for us.

I don't doubt some people have used these pronouns as slurs against us as well, but I also haven't found anything specifically that supports that. It always seemed to be for specific fictional characters that COULD be based off specific intersex attributes

I'm not going to argue one way or the other. This was just me trying to find what I could about these pronouns and their history. Just be mindful of how you use these pronouns, and the connections they have to fetishes revolving around the common misinterpretation of intersex bodies (as in, "having both parts")

Thank you for reading.

I hope you learned something. I know I did, and I now have a headache.

#shi/hir #pronouns #history #internet #intersex #fetishization #furry #queer history #doggie barks

[kimsmuse]

yandere detective !!

(oc's name is detective sae)

this is the first time i'm naming an oc !! and there's not a lot of yandere elements here because this is just a backstory, okay !! you have to trust me when i say i'll do it more.

gender neutral!reader. 2.4k words. warnings for domestic abuse (the reader's father hits her) and warnings for murder, blood, hiding the body, and the likes of it. yandere behavior but very less ? and um yeah that's about it.

so it begins like this; a slap to your face when you were 13, and no matter what anyone says that’s not an age to run after grades. but your father doesn't understand.

and it ends like this, even after all these years, even when you're not 13 anymore you were passed out from all the beating, it wasn’t a lot but the fear was enough to make you exhausted. you wholeheartedly believed that this man could and would kill you if the time came and so pretending to faint or actually fainting helped, he stopped, maybe hoping internally that your breathing stopped entirely.

when you wake up, breaths still shaky and legs still wobbly, he's most probably asleep on the sofa, the tv still obnoxiously loud. and there's a point of impulsion. where every sense of rationality leaves your body, and there is nothing in that moment except the things he did to you, and rest in peace, your dead mother.

and one thing led to another and the steel vase was emptied and in your hands, originally meant to be only if the man suddenly wakes up and decides that today is your last day. his words echo in your mind, "i've brought you in this world, i can take you away," and all of the times you wished he did. just kill and be over with it, but he liked to drag it out.

and it just, happened, like a cherry blossom that falls from the tree right on the ground unceremoniously, the contact of the skull to the steel made a sound, and his eyes shot open. but it was too late to go back now.

2 hard hits and the blood gushed all over the sofa and his chest stopped motion.

the way silence around the neighbourhood stands still used to be your biggest fear that nobody could hear if he ultimately decided to beat you to death, but today you were thankfully and the sound of steel if anything isn't unconventional. you wonder why no neighbours did anything despite the walls being paper thin, were they on his side? are they going to notice that he's gone?

there was no regret inside you for what you’d done, if anything there was regret for all the times that you should have just picked up the vase sooner, it was just on the shoe stand in the doorway, why not sooner?

but there was no time to think about any of it right now, before the morning came, you had to move quickly. 

even if it wasn’t uncommon for your father to lie there on the sofa for days and days, the first few hours of when his office normally started, the phone would ring in intervals but then he just shut it off. and you would be inside your room, silently praying for him to just leave.

you tried to compose yourself, you couldn’t afford any mistakes here, your life depended on it. and the plan became as follows, the body in a suitcase, the apartment cleaned. 

there was no actual argument about if the plan would work or not, it just had to, it was the only thing that came to your mind right now. 

and so over the next hour, you turned over the sofa’s mattress, with it being black, the bloodstains weren’t even visible. thank god. 

then came the painful process of finding the suitcase and you found it, in your father’s room and it was filled. it hadn’t been long since it had been filled your mother committed- no, was killed by your father almost an year ago now, she was taking the same bag and fleeing with you, when he had to come back and catch you red-handed leaving. and he’d been so, so silent, but your mother knew better, she took advantage of his dormancy. 

back to the present, you took one last glance at home and scrolled the bag behind you, it had been a hassle but it finally fit. 

everything was going right to plan, you just had to keep your head down, please nobody be awake right now, please no- 

just as you were about to reach the car, a door opened behind you. 

and you didn’t dare look back. 

“hey, neighbour,” you slowly turn back, you’ve seen this guy around, the new guy who just moved here, the one that your father hated because he once came up to complain about the shouting that he did, something which nobody had ever done before because they didn’t care enough apparently, so this guy must really value his peace and quiet and which only appealed him to you more but at this moment you wanted nothing more to just fling the suitcase right into his face. but um, a slight fact check, he also is kinda a detective.

he is standing in his doorway, playing with a lollipop in his hands and slowly licking it as if the time on the clock was 3 pm instead of the exact opposite and it was really normal to spot your neighbour dragging a suspicious case at this time. 

“uh, do you mind? i’m kinda busy,”

and you turn and start walking again. 

“not to rain on your parade but there’s blood coming out of there, you kill a pig or something?”

the blood, you could feel in your face, had run cold. you didn’t dare look back as you heard his footsteps closing in slowly, and the sound he made when he sucked in the lollipop. 

“or,” he drags the ‘r,’ “did you finally end him?” he looks up at the vacant window of your apartment. 

“shut up,” you hiss. 

he lets out an amused laugh. 

“so it is that,” he sucks in his lollipop again and inches close to you while you’re still frozen because his unpredictability scares you. 

“who knew you had it in you, little dove,”

he walks back to his house then, grabs his key and walks over to you again, you try to figure out the look in his eyes as he unlocks his car, his cop car and as if assuming you’ll follow automatically, he looks at you questioningly. and leaves the door ajar to come close. 

“come on,”

“where?” you ask weakly.

“i may be a cop, but i heard you getting beaten up.” he takes the suitcase from you, “come with me, i know a place. and switch off your phone please,”

“i don’t even know your name,” you’re in the car now but still in shock, you never expected help and much less from the cop downstairs. 

“detective sae,” he replies, his eyes on the road. 

“sae..”

“i’m..”

“i already know,”

“how?” you interrogate. “well, let’s just say your father has a loud voice,”

“makes sense,”

he keeps on driving for what seems like an hour and you’ve long since lost track of the way you were heading towards, it was a highway of some sorts, the headlights of the detective’s car is the only source of light. and he seems to be deep in thought, his brows focused and his jaw clenched. after a little bit more, he takes the exit on the left and to an even steeper path but thankfully enough, the car slows down and stops, there’s not much relief for you until the body is taken care of enough and you still don’t trust the detective to help you even if that’s clearly what he’s doing. 

“you turned off your phone right?” you nod, “good, i didn’t even bring mine so we should be good,”

detective sae looks like he’s going through a mental list of things to take care of when you murder someone. do they teach things like these at the police academy? was it normal? or was it not his first time doing it?

but you had no choice but to trust him, you had come so far, there was no looking back now. 

“this,” he points beyond the fence and the gate that he’s parked the car in front of, “is my property. and i’ll bury the body here,”

he takes a deep breath looking out the window, “what about the apartment? do you own the place or is it on rent?”

you try to remember, there was no landlord per se, but you weren’t clear about it. what does it even matter though?

“i think we own it,”

“are you positive? because if the landlord decides to check up on you or something it’ll be suspicious,”

“but i’ll still live there so that-“

“you won’t be able to live there, baby. the best way to cover all of this,” he makes a twirling motion with his hands. “is to make up a story of how you both got kidnapped by some guy your dad took money from, he killed the dad but he found a better use for you,”

as much as disgusting you found the story, it was plausible, money lenders in your area were notoriously famous for crimes like these. 

and sadly, you thought as he told you to wait in the car, nobody would notice any of you gone. your dad wasn’t a very sociable man, and even if he had a couple of acquaintances, they were people who knew not to be bothered when he didn’t pick up his calls (and that is if and when those people would come above the drinking anyway) and you had long since stopped trying to make friends, it was way too much of exhaustion even if they wanted to be friends with you. 

when he comes back almost an hour later, you’re fiddling with the radio, some station is narrating a horror story, a station is advising people on their relationships, and some other plays songs from the 60s maybe. 

he’s covered in sweat and dirt alike and is quiet as he slips into the backseat. 

“you should have taken me, i could have helped,”

he shakes his head, “it’s alright.” and he turns to face you, his expressions grim, “but now you’ll need to do as i say if you want to avoid trouble, okay?”

you nod your head, you had no other option. maybe you should have just turned yourself in, it would have been less hassle. 

“no, no, are you kidding?” he rejects the idea entirely, “you have a whole life ahead of you and that bastard had it coming,”

he was right. 

but you couldn't shake the feeling, that you should have taken the right path instead, maybe they would have spared you a shorter sentence, dismissing it as self defense? you had enough proof for it and detective sae could have helped you too…

it wasn’t happening now though, you thought as the car sped down the similar dark path down to your apartment complex. now if you went down, so did the detective and if he took such a big risk, he would go to any lengths to prevent you from snapping.

and you wondered lowly, if it had been someone else instead of him, would they have done something like this? sure, his occupation gives him an upper hand but you weren't quite sure of why this guy would do so much for you when you were practically strangers.

-

detective sae is a simple man, he'd just been transferred to this boring, little town with a hell of a crime rate but all of them menial - a drunk brawl, a property dispute, an attempted burglary and all sort of that stuff but what he was interested in, was a things a little dark.

he became a cop for that you know, to get access to that little darkness and even if being on the other side defeated that purpose he knew that it also gave him an upper hand. he could abuse it in controlled ways.

but he never really had the opportunity.

and then when he moved into your apartment complex, he saw you, it wasn’t like a crush or anything, but he saw you desperately covering bruises and at first he thought you had a drunk husband, but asking around he found that it was your father.

the worst character of them all.

he was used to that sound and no matter how much he wanted the man to stop, he didn’t have a plan nor anything solid, why didn't you file a complaint? he could've helped you.

it didn’t help that you were so hard to spot outside, not that the detective followed you or anything.

he became painfully aware of the fact that strangely he wasn’t angry with the man for disturbing his peace, but he imagined strangling him to death. how could he do this?

but anybody would have the same reaction if they saw something like that right? wrong, the people in the neighbourhood were so embroiled in their own problems that nobody wanted to intervene.

and he was, you know preparing for it, when he just had an intuition and then someone walking outside at 3 am.

-

"sir, what do we do about the case, the one with my neighbor?"

"do you really think anybody cares about it now, and its so common…." his boss looks around the room and finds his coat behind it. "there are no relatives to file a missing person's case, right?"

"not really, but.."

"i love your righteousness, but we're dealing with the murder of the mayor's son and the problem of those fucking gamblers and i-"

as if on cue, the phone rings and he hurries to answer it. "ah yes, sir, i'm on my way,"

"close that case, okay?"

try not to squeal. try not to squeal. try not to-

it took him effort, but the mayor's son had it coming anyway.

on one of his inquiry drives, he'd seen the mildly famous person at a bar and gambling at that, what would his father think?

he talked to him afterwards, to talk him out of it. but he did not budge.

anyway, but the story going on was that some drunk guy got into a fight with the mayor's son at the bar and it ended up being fatal for rhe katter.

and somehow the perpetrator was forgotten, the more pressing problem seemed to be gambling and drug dealing rings because the mayor had an image to save.

but sae was just glad that your case was finally closed today. it had been 3 months since you were living at his apartment and since he'd fed lies to his department and them being negligent had accepted the story and sae's clean reputation helped. after all, what could he get from covering a case like that, right?

-

 when he returns home that day, and you ask him again, as you have been for 2 n

months, he shakes his head

“no, they haven’t closed the case yet…”

#kimsmuse’s yanderes #yandere x reader #yandere #yancore #yandere blog #yandere prompts #male yandere #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere oc #yandere detective #yandere darling #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere fic #yandere blurb #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere x female reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #lovecore #soft yandere

[catofthecanals289]

i would love a max wants to propose snippet plzzz

i've posted this before ages ago, hope it holds up ;)

--

“So, are you going to spend the entire evening on your phone?” Victoria asks, as she sits down on the couch next to him, causing him to reflexively put down his phone –face down.

It’s not really fair of her to tease him like this, not when he literally hasn’t been on his phone all night and only picked it up when she got up to dump their takeout containers in the trashcan of the apartment Max only ever stays in when he has to be in Milton Keynes for more than a day or two in one go. It’s not that he minds hotels and that the apartment feels much different than one with as little time as he spends there, but still. He already lives in hotels half the year it feels like, it’s nice to have a place that he can at least call home even if it’s not. Plus, Victoria likes to use it when she makes a weekend trip to London. Although that has gotten less too, with the two kids and all. Which-

“Have you called him yet?” he asks in counter to her little jab, causing her to roll her eyes.

“These kind of news are best delivered in person.” Gently she places a hand on her stomach, soft smile on her lips, despite the challenging glint in her eyes.

He’s the first person to know, this time, and only because it’s his bathroom she took the test in and Max still feels a little crazy about it all –his little sister being pregnant with her third baby. Only him and her knowing –the only two people in the world. It makes him feel like he’s eight years old again, the both of them whispering secrets to each other under the covers of his bed, trying to block out their parents’ yelling.

No one’s yelling now, and Max isn’t scared. He’s just happy for her. Her and her little family.

It’s not what gave him the idea –he’s been toying with it for a while, if he’s being honest- but it’s what had spurred him to finally typing the words into the search bar, fingertips a little bit sweaty.

“Max?” Victoria says, head tilted slightly. “Where’s your head?”

He snorts. “Right here.”

“Mhm.” She looks at him skeptically, then after a moment, giving him a slight nudge she asks: “Everything good with Daniel?”

Flushing a little, Max nods, his phone feeling hot in his hands. “Uh, yeah. He’s in Surrey today, but he said he’d be here tomorrow. Or maybe tonight, depending how quickly they finish up.”

“Is that why you’ve been glued to your phone?” Victoria asks, teasing tone back in her voice. “Because you’re waiting for him to tell you that he’s on his way?”

“No.”

Max rolls his eyes, for good measure. It’s maybe only half true, because Max is definitely looking forward to Daniel and him being in the same place again, but it’s not what he’s been doing on his phone, which- He shoots her a glance ,hesitant for a moment, before he realizes how fucking stupid that is because it’s Victoria. His little sister. She’s probably the person he’s closest to, right up there with Daniel and his mom. And it’s not like he can tell Daniel about this just yet.

“I’ve been, uhm.” He clears his throat, unlocking his phone again so he can thumb open the website he’s been scrolling through before she interrupted him. “Looking at stuff. At –these.”

He holds out his phone to her.

She takes it, eyes already wide.

“Max…” she says, softly after barely a moment.  “You’re going to-”

“Yes,” he says, and fuck, what a terrifying thing to admit, despite the wave of excitement that surges up inside of him at the thought. It’s crest is made of fear. That Daniel will say no. That he’ll say yes, and Max won’t be good enough for him to not regret it. That it’s a stupid, little fantasy, nothing more, and most of all that-

“-I’ll have to tell dad. About me and Daniel,” he says, as Victoria scrolls down the website, looking at the quite limited number of engagement rings made for men, and the endless selection for women. “I know that. If we get married then- Yeah. And I know that dad isn’t going to like it, but I want-” He exhales, gesturing to his phone. “-that. I want to ask him. And I want him to say yes, and I don’t know. Be fucking married to him.”

He thinks about Daniel wearing a ring on his finger, a ring that Max put there and not just as an expensive gift but as a promise, a vow. He thinks about having a paper signed by the both of them putting a name to what they have that they don’t need but Max wants anyway. He thinks about waking up every morning knowing that Daniel married him. That he looked at Max and just fucking picked him. Chose him. Is choosing him. Every day for the rest of their lives. Or life. Together.

And Max knows, he knows that he doesn’t need a marriage certificate to trust that Daniel is committed to him and it’s not even about that really, knows that his issues, his worries and doubts, they’ll always be there for Max to work on, but he wants it anyway.

He wants to be Daniel’s and for Daniel to be his.

“Max, I think that’s wonderful,” Victoria says, eyes shiny. “Really, really wonderful. Shit.”

Pulling him into a hug, she squeezes him tightly.

“He’s going to say yes, I know it, I just know it,” she says, a she holds her back just as tightly, before letting go. “And dad, he’ll just have to deal. It’ll be fine. It’ll be- Fuck. We need to find a proper ring. Shit. We should go to London tomorrow, go to some actual stores instead of-” She waves dismissively at his phone.

“Daniel’s coming here tomorrow though,” Max reminds her. Or tonight. If I’m lucky, tonight.

“Well, he’ll just have to entertain himself then,” Victoria says, unbothered, a gleeful look on her face. “Fuck. I’m going to have another baby, and you’ll be getting married. And win another world championship. This is going to be our year, Max. You hear me? Our year.”

“Hey. Don’t jinx me. Don’t jinx us,” he says, cheeks flushed, just as his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

It’s from Daniel.

finishing up now! See you in two hours [kiss emoji]

Max can’t help but smile.

hurry is all he texts back.

#drabble in answer to ask #wip folder

[pasteloctoz]

Hi there! So- @ajfromthestarss and @darlin-collins decided they wanted some angst and gave me the prompt "Darlin has a nightmare‼️ Sam comforts them🔥the nightmare was abt Quinn ‼️" So I wrote it. Fair warning- this is a bit intense, though it's also the first time I've posted angst before. But also, because I felt like this was pretty intense, there's some fluff at the end cause DAMN Darlin needs it. Also, It's 1,749 words so that's something.

Anyways, triggers: flashback to trauma, with mentions of character death and light details of body horror, there's a small panic attack and what I would consider a bit of a dissociative episode after the flashback, though that bit isn't too bad. I also kinda leaned into the canonicity of Darlin having body issues, specifically toward their scars so be aware of that. Like I said this was intense to even write about.

The ghosts of your past

You find yourself curled in bed, comfortable, scrolling on your phone. It was close to midnight and your mate was fast asleep next to you. Despite not needing sleep, he enjoyed it when the two of you would lay in bed together until one of you fell asleep. This time he was the one who fell asleep first.

You turn over onto your back, turning off your phone. Looking up at the ceiling, you thought about everything that had happened recently. Thoughts and feelings mixed in knots that desperately needed to be untied. Though, at that moment, there was no one there to untie those knots. No one to reassure you that everything would be okay. So, you let your mind wander, and before long, you were fast asleep.

When you opened your eyes, you felt for the dip in the bed where your mate layed. He wasn’t there which was to be expected with the way he slept. What was weird was that the dip didn’t even exist anymore. You got up, reaching for your phone on your nightstand, only to grab the air. Confused, you examined the room. It was familiar, you knew that much.

Your heart skipped a beat. You were in the small, unfurnished apartment you shared with him years ago. There was a gentle humming coming from outside the bedroom door. You recognized the humming from anywhere. He was here. Immediately your anger was pressed down by a solemn, calculated feeling. You took a deep breath and thought, “Now’s a better time than any, I guess.”

You opened the door, yawning while pulling up your hair into the signature bun you wore when you were with him. You noticed that your normal orange creme-colored pajamas had been replaced with some very old blue and white pajamas that you never wore anymore. You were nervous upon seeing your ex. Though, you didn’t know why. The last time you saw him you felt a strong deal of hate. You couldn’t recall the last time you had seen him for some reason. You didn’t care as you focused on the conversation.

“Hey, precious,” He smirked as he let a long breath of smoke out, almost like a dragon. The smoke detector was laid out on the kitchen island as he leaned against it. He never bothered to open a window, but he would put in all the effort to take apart a smoke detector… or at least mangle it ‘til it stopped screeching.

He handed you a cigar, to which you declined, “Not today…”

“C’mon precious, it’s just one. I know you don’t like them, but it’ll grow on you. Trust me.”

You ignored his comment, which seemed to get on his nerves. Though, he kept his cool as you spoke to him. You figured you’d pull the bandaid right off, “I- I think we should break up.” A chill went down your spine. It was that night. The night that you truly felt alone after so long.

“No,” you thought, “Not again. I can’t live through this night again. No. I- I have a mate. An actual mate th- that cares about me- Hi- His name is… What was his name?” You couldn’t remember your mate’s name even though it was on the tip of your tongue. You weren’t in control of your actions. You couldn’t tell him to fuck off. You couldn’t go see your friend, you couldn’t protect them. You were helpless to let this play out the way it always did. Whether it was in your head or in real life.

Your vision went black and within a few seconds, you found yourself wandering a dark void, helpless, alone, and scared. Eventually, you came across your friend, unempowered, helpless, and scared. They lay on the floor in front of you, staring into the abyss above you. Quickly, you rush to their side, worried. As you hold them in your arms, you take in the familiarity of their mutilated body. The bite marks, the scratches, even the small burns caused by your ex’s weak magic. You knew this part, you knew they’d still be alive you just had to get them to the hospital. You brushed their bangs out of their eyes, whispering gently to them, “Everything’s going to be okay, I can fix this,” but dropped them quickly when you realized their eyes were lifeless. You backed up quickly before bumping into something.

“Hello, precious,” your ex’s accent startled you as you whipped around, quickly to see nothing.

You heard him behind you again, “How’s your mate doing?” He spoke in the normal, teasing tone he used when he spoke to you last, “And his progeny? Oh, I’d give anything to see Fred now that I’m gone officially. Kind of makes me wish I had taken him the first time I met him.”

“How are you-”

“Nevermind that, I just wanted to let you know that no matter where you are. And no matter where I am, Sam is never safe-”

You wake up in a cold sweat and frantically look to your side. There he was, your mate, sound asleep. Catching your breath, you check the time… 3:34 am. You sigh and carefully make your way out of the room you shared with your mate, careful not to wake him up. You make your way to the bathroom after grabbing your clothing for the day. All of your thoughts and feelings were a jumbled mess.

You felt your heart was still racing as you walked over to the sink. You looked into the mirror, giving yourself a second to breathe. As you took your pajamas off, you examined the scars across your body. Slipping into your new clothes you thought for a moment, “These scars could’ve been avoided, had I not gotten with him.” Immediately you regretted your thought. If it weren’t for your ex, you wouldn’t have met your mate. Your mate that loved you, and cared for you. That didn’t excuse the things he did, and you knew that. You still held the same hate you had for him the moment he attempted to make your life a living hell.

After getting ready for the day, you sat in the kitchen drinking a coffee, thinking to yourself. You tried keeping your mind on other things, but nothing worked. You scanned the room for something to do, eventually, your eyes fell on your mate’s coat that laid across the sofa. Quickly, you finished your cup of coffee before grabbing a monster from the fridge and wrapping yourself in the coat. Instantly, you felt better as you walked out to the front porch and scanned the tree line surrounding the house.

After a while, you hear the gentle voice of your mate, “Darlin’? Did you fall asleep on the porch?”

You yawn, realizing that the sky was now fading into the morning. It was almost dawn, and Sam was out there to wake you up, “... What? Oh, yeah… I guess I did. Sorry ‘bout that.” You got up, remembering that you brought a monster with you outside. The can still felt cold, and you realized that your hands and feet were icy cold as well.

“Don’t apologize, I just seemed to get out of bed at the right time,” He reached out for your hand and was startled to find out how cold it was. “Jesus, Darlin’! How long have you been out here?”

You shrugged, “4:10 just about.”

He looked at you, concerned, “The hell were you doing up at 4:10!?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, why not?” his face softened, though his accent was harsh along with his tone.

You decided it would be best to tell him the truth as the two of you made it into the living room, “I had a nightmare.”

The two of you sat down on the couch as worry crossed his face. It seemed to make sense to him after everything that had happened recently, “... Was it about him?”

You rubbed your arm awkwardly, “Yes.”

Immediately, your mate held your hand in his, tightly. He looked you in the eyes and spoke in a gentle, loving tone, “He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I- I know… I’m just angry, I guess,” you gazed into his silver eyes as a soft smile teased the corners of your mouth. Just being near him would make you feel better about anything. You continued to speak as he looked confused, “I didn’t think that after it was all set and done with that he’d still bother me. I didn’t think he ever had that much of an effect on me.”

“Darlin’... I- Can I give you a hug?” you nodded and he held you as closely as you’d allow him to. He continued speaking to you as he embraced you, “Just because the problem is fixed doesn’t mean that all the… damage he caused you are healed. It takes time and patience to let a wound heal, and he left a pretty big fuckin’ wound. I should know.”

“I thought he would go away finally. I thought that he would stop haunting me. I can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened, what I could’ve done, what I could’ve said. I don’t even want to think about him, I just want him to leave me alone.”

“Darlin’, even though you have ghosts in your past, you shouldn’t let those ghosts affect you in the present. What happened has happened. And I don’t know about you but even though there were some hardships, I’m happy the way it turned out. Because now I have you,” He held you tighter and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“Sam… I love you,” you said, finally coming to terms with the fact that you would need time to heal. You knew that every step of the way Sam would be there, to comfort and take care of you.

“I love you too, Darlin’... You wanna know something?” He asked you as you pulled away to look at him.

“What?”

“I think It’s pretty damn cute that you wore my coat to go fall asleep on the porch.”

“I was cold.” You told him, smiling mischievously.

“Really? So that’s why you had your arms wrapped around yourself like you were giving yourself a big hug?” He smiled as he teased you.

“Just let me have this one,” you said as you sat closer to him and cuddled into his chest.

#redactedverse #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted headcanons #redacted fanfic #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redacted solaire clan #redacted quinn #redacted angst

[front-facing-pokemon]

I just found this blog so I'm jumping aboard the plushie bandwagon.

First we got Absol. (i feel like maybe i should've taken a closer-up picture but it's the face sooo)

Then a Wooloo

And, saving best for last, this Leafeon plush I own... of which I swear on my life is official merch.

I also have some more eeveelutions (plus an eevee and a few more) but: 1. I didn't want to send too many. 2. Eeveelutions are more popular so I wanted to give some other people the chance to submit their own. 3. I don't know where my Pikachu and Snivy plushies are cuz I own too many stuffed animals.

Only reason I submitted Leafeon was so I could show off this ~masterpiece~ of a plushie I own. And it's face isn't the only thing wrong with it too lol. Also I just noticed I accidentally had one of the ears hanging back but I'm too lazy to go take another photo but i hope this amuses you nonetheless.

ALRIGHT THERE'S BEEN A LOT OF YOU AS I'VE BEEN OUT WITH MY FAMILY FOR CHRISTMAS HUH

let's start with these guys. beautiful. wonderful. i do not believe that that leafeon is official merch. this statement is baffling to me. welcome to the front-facing pokémon family. i love the eyes on that absol and wooloo is one of my faves. i was rather obsessed with it when it first came out and have a whole wooloo tag on my main blog because of it. though i guess i cleared that whole thing out recently so i don't anymore

let's get the nose ratings out of the way:

↑ this is a lie. 10/10 chespin

it's very wide and also 10/10 you're being too harsh. merry day to you too

circular face indeed. did i already post this one? if i did you can have it again

clodsire be upon ye. clodsire fans this is your treat until gen 9

this is a trend now. i think tumblr just crunched this image to hell for some reason so here's what the text says:

"Felt like joining the others for front facing pokeplushies [images] I have more pokemon but its early morning and these are the plushies that are easy to access"

i have not but i imagine "a moment" has long passed by now. my apologies but apparently today was an important day or something? idk

YEAH it's super unbelievably fucked up. i think i kinda remember the circumstance being a bit dire so everyone else was more worried about either 1. protagonist getting stomped on brutally or 2. saving the world from kyurem / the bittercold. i was totally under the impression that he was dead in that moment but i guess the characters may have known that he would just come back? i seem to vaguely remember partner being surprised that he came back and being like "but we watched you die :OOO" but maybe i'm misremembering that. i do create a lot of pmd lore on my own time so i have a hard time telling the difference between canon and fanon sometimes

two a day makes the world go round! this blog started when i started college, paused for 80% of my college career and now has started back up and i just graduated college a week ago. i would say "how time flies" but it has been a very, very long year

i've said it before and i'll say it again: gen 6 is my favorite gen, so you'll be seeing lots of favor for this gen from me in the tags i'm sure. maybe gen 6 is my excuse to start doing other things here. like that stream i keep talking about

if they put meloetta as a little obscure puzzle thang in sv, i'm sure they'll do something for genesect. i hope. at least for keldeo probably. genesect i'm not sure is very popular, unfortunately, outside of the tumblr crowd. if the general public's opinion on genesect is favorable, then maybe

okay and then i tried to scroll down further in my screenshots for more asks and saw the wobbly will smith in a hospital bed Gimme a Hug, Man that i copied from the "i get a little bit genghis kanghis" post so that's it. to everyone who christmases: merry it. it is today. although it's basically over by now so! merry boxing day for tomorrow if i don't say anything tomorrow. but i probably will. now i'm gonna go queue up today's 'mons because i haven't done it yet today. see you all in a few weeks when those post

#gti spoilers #under the cut. don't look if you haven't played it it's an amazing game #not pkmn #nose ratings #about to queue up gogoat and pancham so be ready for those in a while

[miamierre]

I'm fairly certain you've done this before for Piarles, but no. 12? 👀

12. Whoops I accidentally fell in love with the sex worker I've been involved with (OnlyFans, exotic dancer, full-service, whatever)

Charles, nursing the world's most irritating headache, doesn't think twice before pressing FaceTime on Pierre's contact information. It's been—well, exhausting doesn't cover how stretched thin he'd gotten at work today, the grad students working alongside him somehow managing to push all of his buttons at once like they're freshmen again. He loves being the head of the research department, he does, it's just…sometimes, the work feels too big for him.

That's usually where this comes in—Pierre.

It's a little embarrassing, if he thinks about it for too long, how this all came to be: Charles had been shut in during the pandemic, desperate for any kind of connection, and he'd shelled out a pretty ridiculous sum of money over the course of the first year on OnlyFans, of all things. Specifically, the OnlyFans of one Pierre Gee, who's just about the most devastating camboy Charles had ever scrolled past. The first video of him fucking himself and his hand, back-and-forth in the most hypnotizing manner Charles had ever seen, was enough to sell Charles on the first one-time payment.

And that was three years ago. Pierre had reached out to him after the first year of Charles' faithful subscription to ask if he'd wanted anything specific, as he's somehow the biggest subscriber Pierre has, and that's…kind of how this all started. They talk offline often, not even necessarily for sex, and Charles would call him a friend if he didn't fantasize about Pierre fucking him on camera for one of his triple-diamond exclusive videos so frequently.

"Charlot," Pierre answers as the call connects, expression warm and filling Charles' screen in a way that makes his stomach twist. "How are you, cherie?" He looks…glossy with sweat. Charles raises a brow. Pierre sees it. "I am just, ha, getting off work." He winks at the lazy joke, then uses some discarded item of clothing from offscreen to mop up the sweat on his forehead.

"Of course you are," Charles answers flatly, although he can't swallow the giggle when Pierre rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. "I am too, although I'm sure my day was less exciting than yours." It must be something, doing what Pierre does. Charles spends all day cooped up in a library while Pierre probably gets to work from home and play with himself to his heart's content. The thought of him alone pleasuring himself makes Charles shiver. He can't think about that, not right now—he hadn't called for Pierre to get him off, he'd called because he wanted to hear Pierre's voice and talk to him.

"Exciting is not the word I would use," Pierre hums, settling back in whatever he's sitting on so that the camera briefly slips off his face and onto his (of course) broad, bare chest. Charles swallows thickly. "Today was not exactly a thrill to work."

The thought piques Charles' interest, despite himself. "Oh?"

Pierre grimaces. "Weird client," he answers. "Asked for something…" he wrinkles his nose at the thought of it. Charles is even more curious, especially because the list of things Pierre does do is so long that there's not a thing he can think of right now that would make him react like this. "I came, but like. It took some extra effort."

It's crazy, how he talks about sex so casually. Charles can't even say the word cum without turning purple with embarrassment, and here's Pierre, just blase about having to orgasm while on FaceTime. He hadn't even blinked. "Oh," is all he can muster in reply. The world is just different for the two of them.

Pierre can see it on his face, apparently—the disbelief. "But you did not call me to talk about my day," he murmurs, mouth curving sweetly into that smile Charles likes to pretend is just for him. "How was your day, ma belle?"

Better since you picked up, he wants to say, and almost does. But he can't make this weird for Pierre—not after everything he does for Charles, all the calls he takes and the friendship that he continues to accept despite the strangeness of it. He's watched Charles jerk off to one of his new videos over FaceTime once or twice. Friends don't exactly do that with one another.

"Long," is what he settles on, and Pierre laughs brightly, bursting through his speakers.

"I thought you liked things long, Charlo," he teases, and Charles feels the way his ears just start burning. "Sorry, sorry, bebe, I shouldn't tease."

"It's fine," Charles answers, and is surprised that he means it. It makes this normal, almost. "I don't know, people are stupid and I wanted to talk to someone who, you know. Wasn't."

At that, Pierre's expression shifts ever-so-slightly. "People are stupid," he agrees softly. "In fact, you might be the only not-stupid person I've ever met." He smiles, small at first but slowly growing until it's stretched across his face so genuinely that Charles is breathless from it. He can't imagine knowing Pierre outside of this safe, digital space: he's certain he'd make a fool of himself a thousand times over if he could feel the warmth spilling off the other man in waves.

That fact doesn't stop him from being a fool here and now, though. "Are you doing anything tonight?" Charles blurts the question like he's a kid in class with the answer, and immediately feels the embarrassment of it burn in his cheeks. So obvious in his yearning that he feels like he's being branded with it.

But Pierre's smile is unchanging. "Nope," he responds, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "I have all the time in the world for you, Charles."

#I WROTE LIKE 90% OF THIS ON THE TRAIN THIS MORNING LOL #cerona omfg THANK YOU this was SO FANTASTIC #piarles #10 x 16 #fic #romance prompt meme #ask reply #cerona10 #AU tag