#but I just can’t bring myself to do anything

[mischelmayleys]

CHAPTER 2

As Ingird let me through their apartment I noticed how spot on it was. Everything had its place and was dusted off. A cat came to sniff my legs as we entered, making me bend down and pat its fur letting out a soft smile at the bal of fur.

“Okay so your room is right next to ours so if you need anything you can just come to us.” Ingrid explained as she opened the door to the room.

It was mostly a bare room with a nice king size bed in the middle and TV right on the opposite wall. As we walked it I spotted the big window where in front of it was a dest with some plants and a laptop.

“We didn’t know if you needed a laptop for school or not, but we figured you can just use it for whatever you want. It has netflix in it as well as the TV.” Ingird explained, probably seeing me eyeing it.

I didn’t know what to say: “I…thank you.”

She smiled softly at me and went to put a hand on my shoulder which made me flinch: “Hey don’t worry I just wanted to dust off your top.” She pointed her finger on my shoulder which had a bit of blood on it from the fight yesterday.

“Oh, that’s just um…” I started to say but Maria came literally running into the room with my bags on her shoulders.

“I don’t know if Ingrid already told you but we can do whatever you want with the room, we can paint the wall or buy new sheets, some decorations?” She was rambling and it made me look at Ingrid for help.

“Maria calm down, she just got here.” Maria stopped talking and apologized.

“It is okay. Can I use the bathroom please?” I asked not knowing where it was.

Ingrid nodded and pointed to a door in the back of my room: “There, it’s just yours.” I stared at her in shock. Did I just get my own room WITH a bathroom?

“We will let you settle down a bit, if you need anything we are in the kitchen.” Maria said and they left me alone.

I breathed out as they closed the door and I looked at my hands. They were bruised and they hurt less than yesterday but it started to get worse again due to me picking up the skin on my fingers. With a shaky breath I went to the bathroom, and carefully washed my hands under the water. It stinged and I hissed.

I replied to the fight in my head, it wasn’t my fault…I was just protecting myself. I might not have friends in school but outside it was better. Rodrigo was one of my closest friends to many people. He seemed like a bad person, but he was a sweet guy deep down. We met when I was at my first foster home when I was seven and he was ten. I saw him in a park where he had just fallen from his skateboard and I went to help him and since then we were attached to him until he started to hang out with the wrong people.

He is twenty now to my sixteen, and still he is my rock. I came to his flat more than I was to my different foster parents. And the fight happened because of him.

Flashback:

I was sitting next to Rodrigo on a couch as he smoked some weed and I just casually smoked cigarettes. His other friends were split all over his place and just doing nothing at all.

“So…you ran away again.” Rodrigo said to me as he turned my way.

I nod: “Yeah, what was I supposed to do? Get myself killed.” he gave me a soft smile and put his hand on my thigh: “Don’t worry, you can stay here if you want.”

I chuckled a bit: “Nah, I don’t think your friends would appreciate me sleeping in here.”

“You are right, we don’t want this chick sleeping here.” Someone from the other side of the room yelled as Rodrigo went to stand up and defend me but I pulled him back down: “don’t.” He huffed and sat down but couldn’t keep his mouth shut: “Shut up Diego, you bring here sluts and I can’t have here my friend?!”

It was the wrong move and from that time on, one of the only things I remember is that Diego hit first. They were punching each other hard and somehow I stood up and went to split them up.

And that was when Diego grabbed me so to my self defense I hit.

The only other thing I remember is police breaking into the apartment and separating us from each other.

I shook my head as a shiver went down my spine. I stopped the water and walked back into my room and took it all in again.

The fresh sheets.

The Tv and laptop looked completely brand new.

There was a thing I didn’t acknowledge the first time.

It was a framed Barcelona jersey. It had Alexia along with the number 11 written on the back. Alexia…Alexia… I tried to think about where I heard it before. I took out my phone and went to google it until I realized I didn’t have any wifi or data. I sigh and go to the laptop placed on the table and carefully open it. It was connected to a which I assumed was Ingrids and Maria's wifi.

I opened google and wrote about Alexia Fc Barcelona. So much information came up, that’s when I realized it’s THE Alexia, which people in my old school were always talking about. Alexia was the best footballer in the world. It’s not like I didn’t know that Barcelona had a female team, I just never had the opportunity to see them play, I never had a Tv before or money to go to see them play. There was one picture that caught my eye. It was a full squad photo, that’s when I saw them…Ingrid and Maria both being in the picture dressed in their very own kit.

I am living with famous football players…

I didn’t know if that was good or not. They are probably going to travel all the time and not have time for me…great so no need to get close to them. Since they are public figures, they wouldn't hurt a kid…at least I hoped so.

I closed the google and leaned back into the chair. What am I supposed to do now? Unpack?

The question in my head was quickly answered when my phone ding with a message.

Rodrigo: Come over?

I pursued my lips and looked at the closed door and then out of the window. It had the railing and stairs there…great way for escape.

INGRID POV:

Eliza was quiet in her room, we thought she would come out by now to eat dinner, but we didn’t want her to feel pressured so we stayed at the table waiting for her.

Mapi was texting away on her phone when she suddenly put it down: “I am going to look at her.” I nod as I waited.

She came quickly running back to me.

I frowned: “Why are you running what happened?”

Mapi had a worried look on her face: “She is not in her room.”

I quickly stood up: “What do you mean? Maybe she is just in the bathroom.”

“No, she is not anywhere and the window is open so I think she sneaked out.” Mapi said as she sat down on the chair and put her head into her hands. I ran my hand through her hair.

“Well…we know what the social worker told us. We are going to wait for her return.” I said quietly not really believing we won’t go looking for her

#woso #women's football #fc barcelona #espwnt #woso community #mapi leon #woso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #teenage reader #alexia putellas

[cherry4nemo]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE OMGGGGGGG PLEASE LITERALLY ANYTHING FROM THAT IM BEGGING

uh.. I mean…

Pretty please write for Love and Deepspace, oh great fanfic writer.

Your wish is my command. I’m gonna make this one fluffy 😭

XAVIER AND RAFAYEL WHEN THEYRE JEALOUS

Warnings: slightly suggestive on Rafayels part but that’s about it!

XAVIER (inspired by this line)

It was about midnight when you finally arrived back to your house. It was stupid really, when you signed up for this job, you thought you’d be doing more fighting. but here you are having to do paperwork…

You grab the doorknob and open the door, only to see Xavier fast asleep on your couch.

Huh… “Xavier?” You leaned over him and poked his shoulder. What was he doing at your house?

After some poking and prodding, you finally see a pair of blue eyes looking back up at you.

“Hm? Oh [name] what took you so long?” Xavier rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, but you thought you saw a hint of something else in his eyes too.

“Paperwork per usual.” You groaned in annoyance, sitting down next to him. He hummed in response before taking your hand into his gently.

“Do you still have time for our claw machine date tomorrow…?” He inquires in a whispering tone.

“Of course I do! We still need to add the new puppy plushie to our family.” That seems to bring a smile to his face as he kisses your hand.

“I’ll finally have your attention all to myself, huh?” He sounds awfully calm while he spoke, but you could tell there was a hint of jealousy.

“You always will Xav.” Your hand finds his shoulder as you give it a small squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hm…” he hums “A gesture like this… don’t do it with anyone else.”

RAFAYEL

Tangled in your sheets was Rafayel, holding onto your waist for dear life.. it was already seven in the morning and you swore you would get groceries early today. With a small grunt you attempt to pull yourself out of his hold, only to hear a whine.

“No.. why are you already trying to get up?” His voice is muffled by the pillow, but it was still loud and clear.

“I gotta go grocery shopping today, I already told you.” You huff still trying to get up, but that only made him hold you tighter.

“Oh wow. So first you decide to cuddle with that stupid bird plushie all night instead of me, and NOW you’re trying to leave me?”

… what is he talking about??

“I’m not leaving you! It’s only for like 30 minutes.” You try to argue but you know damn well he’s just being dramatic.

“30 minutes too long!” Rafayel pouts. “Why can’t you just stay a little longer?”

“What do I get out of that, huh?” You roll your eyes once you catch a smirk growing on his lips.

“I guess I’ll just have to show you…” his hand slides underneath your shirt, grabbing at the flesh of your stomach. “Just stay a little longer, okay?”

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel #xavier #fem reader #rafayel love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #x reader #gender neutral reader

[wellionlybroughtthree]

sharp dressed man - matty healy

[this isn't beta read in the slightest, i couldn't bring myself to care and i was high writing most of this so i apologise for any mistakes.]

wc: ~4.5k

cw: as always mentions of anxiety and insecurity, smut, matty wanks in the shower and has reader watch]

singularity series chapter 2 | prev

Watching Matty dance around your kitchen with Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top playing in the background, wearing tight pink booty shorts that say ‘Juicy’ across the arse, wasn’t how you thought you’d spend your Sunday morning but here you are. As funny as you thought it would be to give him those shorts last night, wanting to take the piss out of him, you guess you forgot who you were dealing with. Because he is walking around with a kick in his step, like he’s the hottest thing since sliced bread.

This really backfired.

When you handed him those shorts last night, he gave you a sly look as if he was accepting a challenge and you were too tired to decipher what he was plotting in that head of his. Much to Matty’s whining you did not sleep naked, you could have sworn you killed his non existent pets over how pouty he was over it. You do not sleep naked, it is far too uncomfortable for you. The more clothes the better.

He hasn’t tried to kiss you again, or touch you at all really and you hate the fact that that’s all that’s been looping around in your head since you woke up. Flashes going through your mind of the sounds of his panting and moans, how he felt - it makes your stomach tighten and you damn near chew through your cheek trying to make the thoughts go away. Things were far easier when you wanted to kick him in the balls. This feels complicated now.

You honestly thought you’d be having more of a meltdown over this, you were so terrified of human contact for many years that you thought you’d crumble if it happened again. What you weren’t expecting was that you would enjoy it. The shorts are a good distraction though, you’ve been cycling through trying not to laugh and to not look at his arse - which he purposely keeps making sure is in your line of vision.

“...So, I was gonna make you breakfast but there is not really anything here - aside from toast, you want some toast?” He asks, looking at you over his shoulder from where he’s stood for five minutes inspecting your essentially empty pantry. There is usually not much food in the house unless it’s for you mum, or Loki. You usually don’t have the energy to eat and if you do it’s the bare minimum and easiest thing to grab. You used to love cooking. But like with everything else you used to enjoy, you can’t find it in you to care. “I’m not much of a breakfast person - help yourself to whatever is there, thank you though.”

Matty gives you a strange look, probably over the fact that you were actually being polite and not sarcastic, but the minute you notice you’ve been staring at his mouth again you look at the counter where you’re sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “What about you, Loki? You want some breakfast?” Matty calls out, while he collects some bread and peanut butter. Loki stares at Matty from where he’s sitting just outside the kitchen, then grunts and gets up to walk off.

You smile to yourself, watching Loki jump on the couch and ignore him completely, then look at Matty. “You’re in the dog house now, he’s pissed he had to sleep out here and you stayed in my bedroom.” Matty stares at Loki with a frown, looking genuinely upset but then goes towards the toaster to start to make himself something to eat. “I’ll make it up to him, he has to forgive me sooner or later.” He mumbles, which only makes you smile more. He really does sound upset that Loki is giving him the cold shoulder.

He can be pretty moody when he doesn’t get his way. You got the silent treatment for a whole day once because you had to throw out his toy that he’d ripped to pieces because you were worried he’d choke on it. He’s not the brightest crayon in the box, but he sure is your favourite colour. “Just get him some bacon, he’ll be your best friend again.” You assure him, resting your chin in your hand.

Matty just nods, staring at the toaster while he waits for it to pop, and as you watch him with his palm pressed flat against the counter, his hand on his hip and messy curls draped over his shoulders, you can’t help the question that tumbles out of your mouth.

“Why did you get divorced?”

You can’t help how much the fact Matty has been married fascinates you, because you just can’t picture it. And after the past couple of days, instead of fighting thoughts about him, it’s a million and one curious questions about him that swirl in your head. Matty glances at you, his brows lifting at the sudden random question but the toast pops and he pulls it out to start to butter it on a plate. “If I answer that, do I get to ask you something?”

You shrug your shoulders, still just watching him. “I guess.”

He purses his lips with another nod, grabbing his plate and making his way over to sit on the stool next to you. “I got divorced because my ex wife didn’t love me - Why’d you and Jonah break up?” The way he says that with such a casual tone, has your lips parting as you stare at the side of his face while he starts to chomp into a slice of toast with his elbows resting on the counter. You blink at him, confused by how unbothered he looks. “What do you mean she didn’t love you?”

“Uh-uh, that’s cheating. Answer my question first.” He tutts, licking at his lips to get remnants of peanut butter from them as his jaw flexes while he chews. “He broke up with me.” Matty cocks a brow. “Why?”

“No no, you answer my question first.” You throw back, using his own argument against him. Matty smirks to himself as he takes another bite from his toast and you can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s because for once you’re initiating the conversation, or trying to learn something about him. Maybe it’s because you sound interested. Or maybe he just really likes peanut butter, who knows.

“I was a way for my ex wife to piss off her parents. Like her act of rebellion. They were rich upper class snobs, and the last thing they wanted was their perfect, proper, princess of a daughter marrying some queer hairdresser - covered in tattoos and torn up clothes that spent his weekends at rock gigs and bars. She didn’t love me, just the idea of me. I actually don’t know if she cared about me at all to be perfectly honest.” Again, he sounds complacent about the whole thing. He may as well be describing his toast to you with how emotionless he sounds about it but that doesn’t stop your expression falling as you stare at him.

“She sounds like a bitch.” You state, and this makes Matty grin as he starts on his next slice of toast. He looks at you, nodding as he chews. “She kinda was, but it was one of the things that had me caught up on her. Treat em mean - keep em keen. You know how that works. Your turn now, fess up about that Jonah idiot.”

You pull your lips to the side, feeling your chest sink and dart your eyes down. “Not much to say, he just got everything he could from me - guess I stopped being useful. So he left.” Matty pauses his chewing, swallowing and leans his face down to get you to look at him. “He sounds like a dick.” Your own lips pull into a smile as you flick your eyes up to his and nod. “Yeah, he kinda was.”

Matty watches your face with a lopsided lazy smile, and taps his finger against the tip of your nose. “He didn’t deserve you in the first place, darling. He did you a favour, his loss not yours.” You don’t know how to respond to that, the sincerity of his tone made your stomach flip, so you cover it how you usually do.

“Well the fact he was a dick kept me away from actual dick the last two years, so yeah he kinda did me a favour. Gave me time for more important things - like eating the topping off pizza first.” You grin at Matty who rolls his eyes, laughing under his breath but he doesn’t say anything else and just goes back to eating. It feels oddly comfortable to sit with him. Your small conversation isn’t causing the usual crippling feeling inside of you it usually does. He isn’t that bad to talk to you guess, but you’re still caught off guard with the whole ex wife thing. You always think you have him totally figured out but you never do.

Matty stands from the stool, grabbing your hand to urge you to stand up and it’s only then you realise you’ve just been sitting there staring at him again while your mind goes in circles. You still can’t get over how comfortable he looks in those fucking shorts. “Where are we going?” You question with your brows dropping together. Matty gives you a cheerful look, but then keeps leading you towards the bathroom. “We are going to brush our teeth, like responsible adults - you got a spare one I can borrow?” You watch him with a puzzled look while you follow him. “Uh…yeah I do - but I don’t need you to hold my hand to do that.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He muses, ignoring the other part of your sentence and walks you to your bathroom, shutting the door behind you before going to lean against the counter. “So, spare toothbrush?” You side eye him with suspicion, going to the top drawer and grabbing a spare toothbrush still in the packet and handing it to him, to which he grabs your toothbrush from the holder on the sink and hands it to you with a sweet smile.

“What are you playing at, idiot?” You squint at him, but he ignores you again, handing you the toothpaste and gestures for you to use it while he starts opening his own toothbrush. You huff out a sigh through your nose, knowing he won’t tell you so you decide to just brush your teeth and let him be the weirdo he is. He eventually joins you and you both brush your teeth in silence. You stare at the mirror trying not to look at his reflection, where he’s just staring at you in the mirror. He looks far too amused for someone brushing their teeth, and it makes you uneasy.

You finish up, both rinsing your mouths and you give him another strange look when he places the toothbrush in the holder next to yours. So he’s planning on brushing his teeth here again…or? Why would he leave that here? You jolt in shock however when Matty grabs your waist and lifts you up, only to plop you down on the counter top, then walks off to the shower and opens the glass door and starts the shower running.

“What are you doing?”

He faces you and tilts his head, hooking his thumbs into the hem of the pink shorts. “I’m having a shower.” You pull your face back, looking mortified. “I am not showering with you.” Matty purses his lips to hide his smirk, and keeps his thumbs hooked in the shorts as he slips them down to just above his pubic area and then pauses. “I know, that’s why I said I’m having a shower.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then.” You blurt, leaning back when he pulls his hands from the shorts and walks towards you, placing his palms flat on the counter either side of you and dips his face close to yours.

“Hmm…No, I want you to watch.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind!” You snap with your voice breaking from how high pitched it went which makes his eyes light up in amusement. “I said I’m gonna help you figure out things you like, you’ve got me curious what those other things might be, darling. Just relax and give it a chance, you can leave whenever you want. Just try.” He says with his voice slowing as he leans closer. Your insides are clenching and flipping and doing all kinds of contortionist bullshit, and your brain is scrambling to figure out what the hell he expects exactly.

“If you like it, stay. If you don’t, leave. Pretty simple - I won’t force you. Totally up to you.” He continues, keeping his eyes focused on yours while you fight the urge to bite through your own tongue. Why are the only speeds this guy knows 0 or 100? “What does watching you shower have to do with things I like?” You stutter out like a fucking idiot. You’re confident and quick witted in situations where you can cover your nagging self doubt with jokes, but faced with any kind of intimacy and you’re a blubbering moron. Where as that seems to be the area where Matty excels and it’s terrible for your cortisol levels.

“Ouch, here I was thinking you might actually like seeing me naked.” He teases as he places his hands on your hips and tugs you forward until you’re flush against him with your thighs either side of his hips, and you swear to god you hope you pass out so you don’t have to deal with this. You thought maybe because he hadn’t tried anything since you woke up, maybe last night was a once off or it’d be forgotten…you should’ve known better. Is this payback for the shorts?

“Just humour me.” He hushes, nudging his nose against yours. “Give it a chance.”

You hold your breath trying to think of anything to say, but all that’s spinning in your head is how much of an idiot you are because you’re actually considering this. “Relax - you’re safe.” He coos, gripping your hips tighter which makes you let out your breath in a sharp shallow exhale. “I do need a favour first though.”

You raise your brows, encouraging him to just hurry up and tell you because you’re about to start sweating bullets from how quickly this entire thing has flipped upside down. He sucks his lower lip under his teeth before releasing it. “Can you kiss me again?” You hesitate for a moment, swallowing and he glances from your mouth back to your eyes with a low voice still managing to sound coy somehow. “Pretty please? Cherry on top? Extra sprinkles too? I’ll be good I promise.”

You roll your lips into your mouth, your eyes giving away the smile you’re trying to hide as you fight the urge to laugh and hate the fact that you find this idiot adorable now. You actually enjoy kissing him. And he knows that now. It’s bad news, it gives him a power over you you don’t want him to have. Yet you lean forward, pressing your lips to his. If your subconscious were a person, it would be beating its face against a wall right now. Hormones make you fucking stupid.

He lets out a triumphant hum but immediately takes control of the kiss, hooking your legs around his hips and taking a hold of your face between his large hands. There is that silence in your head again. The kiss goes straight to heated, his tongue breaking past your lips to roll against your own and the way his mouth is attacking yours has you panting for any kind of air you can get. His soft moans that start vibrating up his throat have your skin prickling and it’s like your body doesn’t know what to do with itself, you went so long without feeling things like lust or pleasure and now it’s all you’re being bombarded with in a span of 48 hours.

After a few minutes of him scrambling your mind with his mouth, he pulls back with heavy eyes, pecking your lips once more before he rests his hands on your thighs with a smug look. “Thanks for the help.” He says with a deep exhale while he catches his breath. You quirk your brows together, trying to grip your bearings again. “Huh?”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, when he explains what he meant by holding your thighs and thrusting his hips forward, pressing a very distinct hardness against your centre and every muscle in your body constricts. He smirks at how rigid you become, lifting his brows with cheeky eyes and unwraps your legs from around him, pulling away and watches your reaction as he grabs the hem of his shorts again to pull them down. What the fuck is going on?

You dart your eyes away, looking at your lap and trying to stop your heart feeling like it’s about to give out, hearing Matty chuckle to himself before you hear the glass door to the shower open and close. You should leave. You really should, but you’re not and you don’t know if it’s because you’re paralysed with nerves or you actually want to be here. All you hear is the steady stream of the water being interrupted by Matty stepping underneath it, letting out a low relaxed groan that has you gripping to the edge of the counter top while your eyes stay firmly stuck on your legs.

The sound of the water hitting the ground in uneven patterns rings around the air, while you assume he’s washing himself but you just can’t bring yourself to look up. You’re still figuring out this attraction to Matty, if that’s what it is. You know that he’s physically appealing like, genetically but you’ve never been one that’s overly swept up in looks - are you just physically attracted to him? You guess you haven’t felt attraction in so long, you’re just unfamiliar with it now. The feeling is so new again, it’s uncomfortable because you don’t know what to do with it, or where to place it. You feel blindsided by it.

The seconds tick past like hours while your pulse hammers in your body until you hear Matty’s gruff voice trying to sound soft and reassuring. “Look at me, darling.”

You swear you’ve never found your legs more fascinating than in this moment.

“Hey.”

So, how about those legs?

“Look at me or I’ll get out of the shower and stand in front of you naked until you do - or just leave. It’s up to you.” You think your legs would give out if you tried to stand right now, so you swallow the ball of nerves in your throat and slowly drag your eyes up, taking a deep preparing breath before you move your gaze to the shower. Just look at his face.

Your eyes catch his bare wet torso, with his shoulders leant back against the tiled wall, facing you and staring at you through the misty glass and you notice his stomach contract as he breaths, the spares hairs from his belly button that trail down between his hips…That’s not his fucking face! Your eyes whip up, catching his hooded ones as he watches you with a calm expression but there is a faint concentrated crease between his brows. His hair is soaked and pushed away from his face, stuck to his neck and shoulders, and you watch his adams apple dip as he swallows before he speaks. “Just watch me okay? See how it makes you feel - if you want me to stop just tell me.”

It makes you feel like you’re going to have a stroke, just to clear things up. Matty’s eyes stay on yours, but his brows cinch tight together when he sucks in a sharp breath and his lips part, before he huffs out a puff of air with a barely audible moan. Oh God. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

Your eyes glance down before you can stop them, seeing the fogged image of his fist wrapped around his length as he pumps it in slow motions and your stomach clenches that tight you just about hunch over, feeling like you’ve been kicked. Shouldn’t have looked.

You hold onto the counter for dear life, genuinely scared you’re going to fall over and you dart your gaze back to his face, completely frozen where you sit. You feel like you’re in some kind of trance, watching a car crash you can’t look away from while he keeps his eyes on you, rolling his head back against the wall to expose his throat while his chest starts to rise and fall faster. Your nerves are firing over your body, and the tension in the room that feels thicker than the stream damn near has you shaking while you watch his mouth fall open, echoing a deep strained moan around in the air as he starts to pant.

You’re certain you’re going to faint and crack your head on the tiles, you can already see it happening. Everything in you is screaming to look away and you just…can’t. Matty doesn’t take his stare off of you, and while you struggle to focus solely on his face you can see his shoulders tensing along with his chest muscles as he starts to work himself faster. He’s hazy through the steam on the glass, but droplets of water that trickle down it leave streaks that let hints of his clear image come through.

“Staying darling?” He drawls, his voice is low and out of breath and you sure as shit hope he doesn’t expect a verbal answer because your vocal chords feel as stunned into paralysis as your body does. He takes the fact that you haven’t budged as a response, and a ghost of a satisfied smile pulls on his mouth before he wets his lips and his breathing gets faster. “Just keep looking at me - M’thinking about you being in here with me, your hands on me. It’s driving me fucking insane.”

You swallow for what feels like the hundredth time, and your knuckles are white from how hard you’re holding onto the counter. A sheen of sweat starts to build on your forehead and chest, which you can’t tell if it’s from the steam in the room or what you’re seeing. Matty’s chest does a sudden jump, while his brows crease together and his jaw drops with a strained ‘oh fuck’ as his eyes pinch shut. Oh fuck indeed, you couldn’t have said it better yourself.

You’re clenching your jaw tight, but not as tight as you’re squeezing your damn legs together as his grunts and moans become louder mixed with the occasional profanity panting out of his mouth. You can hear the pulse ringing in your ears but it’s doing nothing to drown those sounds out, and when Matty’s jaw drops and his face scrunches up in so much pleasure it looks painful with his shoulders hunching forward you’re almost certain you’re going to faint.

You can see his body tremble and tense while he curses and grunts out moans that get cut off with sharp pants as his muscles constrict with what you can describe as nothing short of bliss across his face. You watch helplessly as Matty composes himself, catching his breath slumped against the wall and eventually moves back under the water and runs his hands through his drenched hair as it streams over him. He rinses himself off, then shuts off the water and wrings his hair out, flipping it away from his face before pushing the door open and walking out to grab a towel hung over the towel rack to wrap low around his hips.

You’re still a damn statue on the counter, trying to wrap your head around what you just watched and don’t even realise how heavy your own breathing is. You feel like this should be awkward, but it’s just not. The air of calm confidence he has as he turns and walks towards you, giving your rigid body a once over before he stands in front of you has you just speechless instead of anxious. He doesn’t say anything, probably aware that you wouldn’t be able to respond even if you wanted to and just grabs your waist to help you get off the counter.

You’re surprised your legs didn’t collapse underneath you. You feel like a walking stunned zombie, everything you just saw replaying in your head like some erotic movie in flashes. You turn because you think you’re going to leave the bathroom, but Matty stops you and stands behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. “Not so fast.” He tutts, smoothing his hands from your waist down to your front to lift the hem of your shirt and dip his fingers into your shorts.

You dig your fingernails into your palms to stop from jumping when his fingers go lower, sneaking past your underwear until they go between your legs and explore in a lazy back and forth stroke, arousal coating your heat that has you choking on a gasp. He pulls his hand from your shorts, moving his mouth to your ear and you can hear the damn cocky smile in his voice. “Guess we can add watching someone getting off to the list of things you like…naughty girl.”

You’re still wordless, absolutely shocked into helpless silence which only seems to entertain him more as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “You feeling okay?”

“Ha!” You wheeze, the only audible sound you can make because that question is so fucking ridiculous right now. He moves his hand to pat against your behind. “You’ll be fine. Besides, this’ll give you something to think about until I see you again. Come on, I’ve gotta get dressed.”

He nudges you forward with a hold on your hips, which makes you stumble and Matty chuckles to himself. He coaxes you out of the bathroom and walks you towards the bed where you flop down to sit, still acting like some trauma patient that’s seen some wild shit that sent them completely mute. Matty looks so happy with himself, you swear he’s trying to kill you.

You can hear him pulling his pants on, but that’s not what grabs your attention and makes your face whip to the doorway in panic. The front door opens, then shuts and you can hear your mother’s usual dramatic groaning as if she’s a creaky old chair. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Matty notices your whole body become stiff, looking to where the noise is coming from, then back to you and gives you a strange look but you only look at him feeling like all the blood is draining from your body. “You need to leave.” You burst, darting your frantic eyes to the door and back to a shirtless Matty that’s barely done his pants up. His brows scrunch up in confusion. “What?”

“You need to leave right now - preferably out the window.” You whisper yell, waving your hands at him. However, Matty doesn’t get a chance to ask you why you look like you’re about to have a nervous breakdown because your mother’s voice comes from the door.

“Hey, I need a pain kill- oh, who’s this?”

Oh fucking hell.

#well #singularity matty #is that a tag now #shit #ok anyways #the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy smut #spelling mistakes for days i bet #sorry

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 11: POISON ROOT

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

It disgusted you a little bit, needing them like a fiending addict. Living with yourself and yourself alone was starting to get old, though you aren’t sure how much left of you feels whole. You were always fruit split in between a blade, all the gory parts splayed out by the hand of someone greater than you.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, threesome, oral sex, cumplay, phone sex, mentions of depression, angst, descriptions of mild gore

ੈ✩ wc: 7k

ੈ✩ a/n: here's a nice and fat chapter for you before we enter The Dark Ages <3

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

“Sorry, what?”

Yaga scowls at you and you’re unfazed. Mostly, you’re exasperated.

“I’ve repeated myself twice already,” he says calmly. More so brusquely, but you didn’t care enough to gauge his reaction. You’re too busy processing his words.

“I—I know, I’m sorry,” you mutter. “But why me? Shoko’s technique is way stronger than mine.”

“Shoko’s technique is not your technique. And unlike her, you actually engage in combat.”

“Because the boys forced me—”

He brings a hand to your shoulder in an attempt for reassurance. You freeze.

“Your technique is remarkable. Stronger than you think,” Yaga sighs, almost in resignation. He doesn’t seem particularly enthused about what he’s proposing to you, but you consider that you’d probably worn him down over the past half hour.

He rolls his eyes at the look on your face. Mouth parted like an animal struck with fear. 

“But—”

“There hasn’t been anyone with a technique like yours in over ten years. I remember it. I had a family friend as a teacher here first—she talked about a boy that could regenerate cells. Practiced on plants and small animals as a child until he was able to resurrect bigger ones at your age.”

“That boy isn’t me,” you protest, your brows furrowing.

“He isn’t,” Yaga snaps back. “He died, and his death could’ve been prevented. This is why I want you to do this. I want you to be strong enough so that the same thing doesn’t happen to you.”

You swallow and look down, pretending to be interested in your thumbs. Your hands are delicate compared to anyone else’s. You had always admired people who could make something out of nothing, people who sculpted, crafted. Sometimes, you often wonder if what you do could be considered the same.

You haven’t told anyone, but it’s easy to destroy things with your hands. Much easier than it is to build anything up, to heal. 

You’d tried it during long walks through the forest. On your way back from solo missions, you’d take routes that were less traveled, needing to clear your head. Once or twice, you remember finding animals that were victims of hunting. Broken limbs, bleeding out too much for you to save. You’d practice the darker parts of your technique, letting quick rot take away their misery.

“For how long?”

“Just two months. July and August.”

You take a deep breath. You could be alone in Kyoto for two months. The boys would survive. At least, you think Suguru would.

When you tell Satoru the next day, it’s a disaster.

“You’re what?”

“Satoru,” you warn, crossing your arms. 

Dealing with him is arduous. You knew he would react this way. He looks at you with irritation, nipping at your bare thigh just to see you pout. You were in the middle of reading when he had barged in, craving the scent of your moisturizer on your inner thighs. Needed the whipped softness of your flesh squeezed in between his hands after some heated sparring with Suguru.

“You can’t.”

“That’s not your decision—”

“You can’t. What did that old man say? Some other guy had your technique and died?”

“I’m not going to die!” you huff, rolling your eyes. 

Satoru frowns, his blue eyes glowing. He was free of missions for the past week, treating you to dates whenever he could. It seems that you’ve ruined his bliss. That ugly thought in his head festered in his mind again — the need to possess you. Trap you in a glass cage to stay alive forever like you were his enchanted rose.

“Like hell you won’t,” he mutters. “Which is why you’re staying.”

“I want to get stronger, Satoru.”

“You didn’t even want to be a sorcerer in the first place! And now you’re desperate to train with your little cell regeneration? Are you gonna dabble in necromancy?”

You frown at his condescending tone. He isn’t taking you seriously. He never does. Satoru has always had his way of belittling others, but he’d sworn to never do that to you given your history. You take a deep breath.

“It’s just… an independent study, alright? This could help me in the future. I could go to medical school with Shoko or something, you know? If you’re so scared of me dying because of combat, then I could just focus on the regeneration part and—”

“And what about the other part? How you make things rot and disintegrate?” he asks you incredulously, nearly snarling.

“That’s another thing I can learn to control.”

“But–”

“I didn’t have private lessons like you! I’m not a prodigy like you. Can I just have this one thing?” you plead with exhaustion. You can see the way his eyes flicker with a quiet rage, his mouth turned down into a pout. Petulant even at his big age.

Satoru sighs heavily. He nuzzles his face into your hand, kissing the heartline. You almost feel proud of yourself for not giving into him before the conversation began. He’d come into your room wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves messily cut off, exposing the hard lines of his stomach. Just a gaze had ripped away your autonomy, brain dumb at the sight of him. 

You wanted to lick him clean before he opened his damn mouth.

“I won’t tell you what to do,” he says in defeat.

“Thanks.”

You sit with him for a while, staring at the ceiling, hair strewn around your pillow. Silence fills the air save for the sound of his breathing. Eventually, he curls into you, nose into your bare shoulder as he mumbles unintelligible things. His mouth in the shape of I’ll miss you.

“I know,” you murmur. “I will, too.”

__

Suguru copes by getting buzzed in the daytime. He liked the hope on your face, how the light hit your eyes in a certain way. It meant something more. He knew that you were worth more.

Lately, Suguru feels like less.

Not particularly less than anyone else, though he knows that he’s certainly less than Satoru just by default. He remembers the mission all too clearly—it’s the only thing that haunts his nightmares. The blankness on Satoru’s face, his willingness to kill a group of people just for the sake of it.

He thought he’d lost Satoru forever, that he’d fucked up the mission by letting a bullet go through Riko’s head. But then, of course, Satoru survived. Of course Satoru found a way to bring himself back to life. Everything should be fine, because Satoru came out alive, and so did he. So did you.

It didn’t feel like enough. The taste of curses started to get worse, if that was even possible. Suguru has been starting to believe that he didn’t deserve anything palatable. That the universe was working against him maybe, because his depressive spirals last longer now.

And you’re fucking leaving.

He knows he can have you whenever he wants, but he likes to lick the taste of you out of Satoru’s mouth. 

He bites Satoru’s lip and it makes the boy yelp.

“What the hell was that for?” Satoru pouts. Suguru only grins wolfishly. 

“Thought you wanted me to make you feel better. You don’t like it rough?”

“Of course I like it rough,” Satoru grunts. “But you know I hate teeth.”

“On your dick.”

Satoru pauses, rolling his eyes, then sinks his teeth into Suguru’s neck instead. 

“You smell like a dive bar. It’s fucking 3 pm.”

“Day off, bitch,” Suguru mutters.

Satoru pushes Suguru against the mattress and spoons him, rutting against his ass. It’s always a little violent with them. You used to joke about it—something about dogs and masculinity. Satoru kept wanting to fuck like it was a cage match. Bull-headed, annoying. For Suguru, intimacy always felt like a car crash no matter who it was with.

“You’re not fucking my ass,” Suguru mumbles.

Satoru whines childishly, of course.

“Ran out of lube.”

“Spit?” Satoru begs, his eyes comically large.

“Fuck you, dude,” Suguru scoffs.

“I’m trying!”

Suguru turns to fall onto the bed facing Satoru, then shoves his head downward. He feels numb despite his throbbing cock. He knows Satoru’s mouth is probably watering for him.

“C’mon,” Suguru slurs, unzipping his shorts. “You need to work on giving head.”

“Hey!”

“Not my fault she does it better than you.”

Satoru huffs but leans over the end of the bed anyway, his limbs too long to crouch on the bed. He spits on Suguru’s cock and pumps agonizingly slowly, coaxing out guttural sounds vibrating out of the boy’s throat.

For once, Suguru feels a little powerful when the Jujutsu world’s boy-god chokes over his dick. He looks down and pushes his head down, reveling in the sound of him gagging, throat slack. Not as good as you, but getting better. The drool makes him look pretty. It matched the glazed look in Satoru’s eyes.

Suguru nearly finishes right then and there, the barbed wire inside of his body starting to untangle until there’s a knock on his door. Of course you knock—the polite girl you are.

“S’unlocked,” he calls after you. Satoru makes a noise. Something in between a moan and a sound of protest.

Suguru likes your wide eyes. You’re out of your school uniform, dressed in a white number with embroidered flowers at the hem that hits halfway above your knees.

“Oh… I—”

“C’mere, baby,” Suguru rasps, his hand reaching out for you. He’s so close, threading his fingers through Satoru’s hair before pulling at his snowy mop.

Satoru coughs, his throat raw. It makes Suguru laugh. You watch like you’re outside of your own body, eyes wide. It was easy for them to get you under a spell. 

It doesn’t take long for their hands to grope you, have your dress pooling at your waist so that your bare ass is on display. Heathens. Being with them was always like throwing yourself to the wolves.

“So wet,” Suguru groans, circling a finger in the heat hiding behind your underwear. “Wanted a proper send-off, angel? Gonna miss us all the way in Kyoto, aren’t you?”

You can’t respond when your head is already so dizzy with Satoru’s teeth on your collarbone.

“Don’t talk about that, I’ll lose my boner,” Satoru huffs. 

“What a baby.”

“Stop arguing,” you roll your eyes. 

Suguru decides to be selfish, his dick already out and pulsing from the tease of Satoru’s tongue. He slides it along your folds, wetness pooling right underneath him. It makes him groan, his insides white-hot. He’d been craving this since he’d woken up this morning. The heat was making his moodiness deliquesce into desperation burning like acid in his stomach. He needed you and Satoru like a bullet begging to be lodged, piercing out of a bannister.

“Not fair,” Satoru grumbles, his knees bent as he gropes you. Rutting against the mattress pathetically as he whines, his desperation puppy-like. 

His mouth is salty, leftover from Suguru’s precum. His hair smelled like Suguru’s too—he must’ve been copying his hair routine for the hell of it. It was enough to keep him close without asking to sew himself into the boy’s skin. 

Suguru looks down at you and your blissed-out face, vulnerable before he’s even entered you. Your mouth is wet from Satoru’s kisses, spit drooling out of the corner of your pink mouth. Suguru smears it around and already imagines himself pulling out of you to finish there instead, just to see it on your lips. He’d like to see you cry again one last time.

You hum when you’re filled with him. Stuttering hips hitting slack thighs. Soft despite the violence inside him, the little voice in his head taunting him to wreck you. 

He likes you like this, first. Daisy-soft, his fingers in your mouth until you gag. Yelping in time with Satoru’s stupid whines. 

“Twigs,” Satoru breathes, his hot breath fanning your jaw. “Can I put it in your ass?”

You groan, shaking your head as Suguru howls with laughter. 

__

July, 2010

Gakuganji has you on a leash. It hasn’t even been a week and you’ve already gone on two missions, each that ended with you covered in blood, but luckily unscathed. Satoru would have a fit if he knew. The ghost of him hovers on your shoulder at your weakest moments — taunting you, challenging you. You know he wouldn’t be as cruel if he was with you physically, but your psyche conjures him in a way that feels like punishment. 

You can’t escape him, either. He’s needier than you expect — visiting you during off times during your weekends, treating them like serendipitous encounters. You don’t believe him, and you shouldn’t. 

(He warps to you when he gets in fights with Suguru. When he gets too horny to find someone at a bar, because if it’s not Suguru, it’s you. But he could never tell you that.)

You like to keep yourself busy in Kyoto. Whether it’s immersing yourself in your studies or practicing your technique, you can occupy yourself easily, even if you’re bombarded by images of veiny hands, long black hair, pink mouths. Blue eyes that are too bright, even in your dreams. 

You spend most of your time by yourself, anyway. It’s what you need. If not that, then you’re at the local bars with Utahime-senpai, who transferred to Kyoto months before. 

“Are you their little plaything?” she teases. You’re loosened up after a few beers, all on her tab, but the mention of the boys sobers you up immediately. You scowl.

“What?” She holds her hands up in surrender. “Everybody knows… Shoko kind of already told me.”

“Of course she did,” you snort.

“I’m just saying, you should be careful. They’re insatiable. And never in their right mind. I could advocate for Geto-kun, but I’m sure Gojo’s already corrupted him.”

Corrupted. It’s a funny notion. You wonder if you’ve been corrupted by both of them. Satoru as your first didn’t bother you. To have Suguru as your second only complicated things. You haven’t known anything else but them. You aren’t sure if this should concern you until Utahime talks about it.

“They’re kind of the same in that way,” you mumble.

“Are they both your boyfriends?” Utahime giggles.

“N-No…”

“So it’s not serious? I know I’m not much older than you, but I still went through a few flings. You shouldn’t let them keep you on a chain.”

“They’re not–”

“Are you sure?” she laughs. “You’ve been checking your phone every five minutes. It’s like they brainwashed you.”

“Hime,” you frown.

“I’m just saying,” she shrugs. “There are lots of men around here staring at you.”

“No, there aren’t.”

“Someone is staring at you right now. Behind you. Blonde. Tacky if he wasn’t like, a little hot like he is.”

“Shut up.”

She gives you a pointed look that causes you to look over your shoulder. Lo and behold, there is a man of that description making glances at you with a cocky smirk. It reminds you of the way Satoru looks at you. It makes your stomach flip.

“See?”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you mumble.

You move past the crowd to the single stall, plastered in posters from vintage porn magazines and graffiti. Your phone’s about to die, but the group chat with you and the boys has unread messages. It’s mostly Satoru complaining, arguing with Suguru about things that you couldn’t care less about. There are separate messages from them, too. Satoru’s suggestive selfies and Suguru’s words of affirmation. You scoff at the difference between them.

When you return, Utahime grins at you like she’s plotting.

“What did you do?” you narrow your eyes.

“He came over here! I knew it. He was interested in you,” she beams.

“What?”

“Relax. He’s a sorcerer. And I gave him your number.”

“Hime!” You shove her arm lightly, groaning when she laughs.

“You need to get laid by someone who isn’t an idiot.”

You roll your eyes. The many beers are making your head swim too much for you to actually be angry. If anything, your cheeks feel warm at the prospect of someone else being interested in you. It’s not something you’ve experienced in your youth, or now for that matter, since Satoru had sunken his teeth in you so quickly.

Images of him talking to other girls at parties flash in your mind, making you grimace. Maybe Utahime was doing you a favor.

The bachelor in question is nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not getting a good look at him. A pit forms in your stomach at the idea of him texting you – a handsome stranger who watched you babble drunkenly to Utahime. It occurred to you that you hadn’t even considered yourself something desirable in a context that wasn’t bound to Satoru or Suguru.

On the walk home, the thought consumes you. You aren’t sure if you even know yourself without them. During most of your life, you’ve only known obedience. Intimacy with Satoru was no different, you realize. You were wrapped around his finger since you were children – it didn’t matter that you were apart for years. It would always be him.

You aren’t sure if this bothers you or not. You try to push the thought away, shaking your head slightly as if daydreams of him would fall out of your head. It doesn’t work, not really. You’re drunk. Naturally, you think of his pink mouth. The veins on his hands.

You unlock the door of your room. When you enter, darkness envelops you, which you’re used to, if not for the bright blue eyes that stare back at you. 

“Jesus!” you mutter, cursing to yourself once you can get the nearest lamp on. 

“What? Not happy to see me?” he slurs, flashing you a sloppy smile. 

“Can you at least give me a heads-up before you show up randomly?”

“That ruins the surprise, baby,” he purrs, walking over to you to set his hands on your hips.   Trapping you gently. 

“You’re drunk.”

“Hm?”

“You’re. Drunk. Why are you here?” 

“Had a mission nearby. Then I went to a bar to relax. And then, I thought, warping to Tokyo would take too much for a drunk. Why not stay here?”

“I’m not a motel.”

“C’mon, baby,” he pouts. “You’re not gonna kick me out, are you?”

You scoff, moving past him to sit on your bed and take off your shoes.

Satoru chuckles, taking a seat right next to you, thigh touching yours. “You’re drunk, too. I can smell it.”

“I haven’t even been here for a full month and this is like, the third time you’ve surprised me. What’s going on with you?”

“What? Can’t miss my lover?”

He says lover like it’s an inside joke. He never says girlfriend. Never partner.

“You’re so needy.”

“You like me that way,” Satoru says, his voice velvety. He’s not in his uniform, but a light blue button-down and slacks. You wonder if he’s planned this or if he dressed up for someone else, running to you as the safest option because you’re always there. Always willing.

You’d been ready to sink into your shitty mattress and dream of him. You hadn’t been anticipating the real thing in front of you. It was stupid, how he took your breath away, as if he was still something new to you. As if he hadn’t been in the back of your mind since you were a little kid, always.

“I’m tired, Satoru,” you sigh.

“You sure?” he grins. “You smell like beer. Still trying to have some fun tonight?”

You narrow your eyes at him and he laughs. He comes closer, pinching the meat of your thigh right under the hem of your skirt, chuckling when you swat his hand away.

“So short. Who’s this for, huh?” he taunts.

You swallow back an insult the moment you look down at the way his large hands play with a loose thread of your skirt. How large they are compared to your thigh, the calloused tips of his fingers running circles in your skin.

“No one,” you breathe.

“You cheating on me, Twigs?”

“Yeah, with Utahime,” you roll your eyes.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that. Sounds hot, to be honest.”

Your cursed energy flares. You hate when he belittles you, but you could never do anything about it. You could only fall into his trap, giving into him the way he knows you will. You don’t even notice that he’s caged you within his arms, his hands settling on your hips as his body backs you into your bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress.

His breath smells sweet. It usually does, but it’s something sour this time. Something citrusy, along with the smell of something much too alcoholic. One of those whiskey sours, you guessed. You don’t realize how drunk he is until you look him in the eyes, his blue irises unfocused despite the desperation in his gaze.

“Of course not,” he grins, leaning in to inhale your scent. “You’d never. My sweet girl. My best girl, right?”

“You say that like I’m one of many,” you scoff.

“Are you jealous?” he rumbles, laughing. “As if there’s anyone else I like as much as you…”

He says girl and you think of Suguru. An exception, just barely. You realize how much you miss him, too.

Your eyes flutter closed as Satoru backs you into your bed, teeth grazing your earlobe. You aren’t sure if it’s him or the drunkenness of your brain. You don’t even notice his fingers massaging your thighs, trailing up to hook your underwear to the side to tease your dripping core. It’s his teasing laughter that snaps you awake.

“So wet… did you know I was coming, baby? Or were you expecting someone else?”

You don’t answer. Your breath hitches at the contact of his eager fingers prodding you, pushing upwards into your pulsating cunt before you can protest. The wounded noise you make only spurs him on further.

“You went to a bar, right? Were you thinking about me when you were there? Got yourself all wound up?”

You don’t reply. He’s too busy pushing his fingers to the very edge, stimulating the spot that makes your knees buckle before you can even form a thought.

You gasp, your mouth parting. Slack-jawed, eyes rolling back as you get closer to the edge before he’s even inside you. It could be pathetic if you cared, but Satoru always made everything around you melt, like you weren’t in your own mind anymore. You accepted being a body that belonged to him, nothing more.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he breathes, his lips tickling your jaw. “You’re so quiet.”

“Satoru,” you sigh. His other hand rubs the small of your back, touching the bare skin underneath your thin shirt.

He digs his fingers in further, knuckle-deep until he hears you make a pained noise. He grins at your broken moan like he’d just won a prize. He doesn’t stop, either — he wanted to hear more of those sounds out of your mouth. It was proof that you were still his, wrapped around his finger. 

You try to catch your breath as you lay back on your bed, his strong arms hoisting you up to the wall. You hiss at the feeling of his teeth on your thighs, biting desperately. Satoru was already sweating despite only coaxing bliss from you once. 

He claws at you, pulling at the buttons of your blouse and tugging your skirt down until you’re left bare for him. He groans at the sight of your silky skin, the way your chest heaves in anticipation. Everything about you is ripe, ready to break underneath his hands.

He’s less vocal this time when he takes you, pushing into you before you can say anything. He doesn’t realize how drunk he is until he does this, considering every sense of his was numb until he entered you, igniting his synapses on fire. 

You whimper from the abruptness, aching between your legs. You think that you would’ve bled if you weren’t so in love with him, but you knew better. Anything from him made your entire body warm and pliant, wet beyond your comprehension. You hated it, sometimes.

But you couldn’t hate anything about it now. You were doused in bliss.

“My girl,” he slurs. “So fucking perfect. Say it.”

You mutter nonsense under your breath.

He bends you in half, your calves resting on his broad shoulders. He chuckles at your pathetic whines.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Fuck — I – I’m your girl,” you sob.

“My perfect girl,” he mutters, correcting you. He groans when he looks down at you, his hips stuttering. His thrusts are harder than usual on purpose — he’d rather die than tell you that he’d only warped to you because he was having a panic attack in his room alone. 

He thought he could get his mind off of you, off of Suguru, who he’d assumed was angry with him all day. There were only dry texts from the both of you. No woman at the bar could compete, even if he managed to get a decent handjob in the bathroom. He could only think of you. 

Satoru knew you’d hate him for it. He was disgusted with himself. He feels it now, aching inside the cavern of his chest when you moan his name, knowing he doesn’t deserve a praising word out of your mouth.

He whines, on the verge of tears as he rides out his orgasm in your cunt. 

“Shit,” he hisses into the skin of your neck.

You can barely reply before he kisses down your stomach, licking himself out of you with his nails digging into your thighs.

“Satoru, what are you—oh, fuck—”

“Cum for me,” he slurs, lapping at your clit as he pushes his fingers into you. He pauses, mesmerized at the way his cum drips out of you, only for his fingers to push it back into the hilt, up to his knuckles.

You sob in protest, your thighs shaking as he plays with you. He doesn’t stop for a second. It’s almost as if he doesn’t realize you’re there, his heavy-lidded gaze fixed on the way your pussy swallows his fingers.

“S’too much,” you whine, grasping his wrist tightly.

“Fuckin’ love you,” he murmurs under his breath. You don’t hear him. Your body convulses as he continues to play you like an instrument. He only stops when he looks up to see tears pricking your eyes.

“S-Satoru…”

“Fuck,” he mutters. He finally retracts, licking his fingers as he looks at you intensely. “Mine… you’re all mine.”

The glassy look in his eyes is from the alcohol, you assume, but there’s something tantalizingly too real about the expression on his face. Raw with something he only buries inside his gut. He snaps out of it like it’s not something you’re supposed to see. 

He grunts when he lays his head on your lap, his fingers digging into your skin possessively as you tremble. You prop your head up on your pillow, trying to catch your breath as you stroke his hair.

“Why’d you get so drunk?” you ask quietly. “Were you alone?”

“Of course I was,” he scoffs, almost defensive. But he smells a sweetness on his skin that isn’t from you, and he knows you’ve already picked up on it. 

“You could’ve texted or called me instead of breaking into my dorm.”

“You just hate fun,” Satoru mumbles. 

Despite his attitude, he rubs his cheek against your thigh like he’s a pet. He thinks about taking you again, just to shut you up — enough to have both of you sweating, the musk of your sex drowning out any remnants from the bitch that Satoru had tried to use hours before.

Nothing could replace you and he had to live with that. 

He nips at your thigh, his mouth getting dangerously close to your core. You whine as you pull him back by his scalp, like the scruff of a dog. Satoru is always insatiable when he’s drunk, which is saying something considering what he’s like sober. His cravings for you are always intense. When he’s not in his right mind, you’re more considered prey than a craving.

You don’t have the energy to respond to him. His warmth satiates you for now as he locks his arms around your bare waist. The light breathing fanning your stomach calms you.

When you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found, but there’s a small floral arrangement on your desk. White orchids and blue hyacinths.

___

August, 2010 

You hate bringing anything back to life as much as you hate desecration.

It’s unnatural — though you know that nothing about the Jujutsu world is natural. Everything to you is a myth you have to deal with. After knowing Satoru for so long and seeing what nasty curses humanity could birth, you shouldn’t be stunted.

It makes you feel a bit ill when you realize how much power your hands wield. As ordinary as you’ve always been, these days you often wish that you were the true epitome of it. Only human, unable to see the horrors of the world. Left in the dark when it came to sorcery. Perhaps you aren’t cut out for this, despite how much you tried to convince Satoru you were.

His voice echoes in your mind. His pleading. The ways he wanted to protect you. He’d belittled your technique for a reason, maybe. You aren’t sure you’re cut out for this shit.

Necromancy is only exciting the first couple of times. After that, it’s the reanimation of body parts that freaks you out. It doesn’t matter that it’s the revival of small birds and rodents on a lab table. You feel like you’re playing God and not even doing a decent job of it.

It catches up to you in your dreams. The image of you getting held down, leaving you to resort to your technique. Rotting flesh. Even in your unconscious, the smell is somehow striking, as if you’re really there. Other times, you find horror in the reanimation of corpses under your hand. Split limbs coming together. Limbs that belong to people you love.

Tonight, you’re shaken by the image of Suguru mauled beyond belief. Sacrilegious violence that makes your stomach turn. 

When you wake up in a sweat, gasping, the alarm clock on your bedside table reads 1:12 am. You dial his number before you can even come to your senses.

“Twigs.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

You hear Suguru chuckle, deep and sweet like teeth sunken into cake. You’re filled with warmth almost immediately. 

“What’s up? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” he breathes.

“Had a nightmare,” you mumble.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you sigh. 

“Fine. What are you thinking about, then?”

“You,” you mumble.

There’s silence on the other end. Despite this, you can still hear his grin. You can see his little smirk perfectly in your head. 

“Yeah?” his voice lowers. “What about me?”

“Y-your hands,” you mumble. “You make me feel safe.”

“Is that right?”

You make a small noise that shows your agreement, but it’s noncommittal. You hum at the thought of him. You’re sleep-dazed, partially wishing for this moment that he was more like Satoru. Able to talk your ear off without any effort from your end.

Suguru had always known you differently. He had you memorized as much as Satoru did, but uniquely, given the similarities between your personalities. He knew how you worked and he never held it against you.

Satoru would probably try to pry it out of you. Suguru would already know.

And at this moment, he knows. It’d be infuriating if you didn’t see it coming.

“You’re upset,” Suguru says.

“No.”

“You are. Or you’re pent up, which is also like being upset. Need some catharsis?”

“Maybe,” you mumble.

“Tell me what’s wrong, then. Or tell me about your nightmare.”

“No.”

He laughs. 

“Stubborn as always,” he purrs.

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” you whisper.

“You want to hear me be mean to you. You like not being in control. That’s what makes you feel safe, isn’t it, princess?”

“Shut up.”

“C’mon, baby,” he laughs. “Give me something to work with.”

Your eyes nearly glaze over as you watch the flickering lights outside of your dorm. A broken street lamp flashes on and off, shadowing your room in darkness only to illuminate seconds later, back and forth. Unpredictably so. You aren’t sure what else you should look at while you’re still so drunk on Suguru’s voice. You think maybe you’d handle this phone call better if you were far from sober.

“I fucked someone else yesterday.”

The line goes silent. Your heartbeat picks up.

After almost an eternity, you hear Suguru’s voice again. It’s soft, almost cooing. It feels awfully dangerous despite this.

“Yeah? Who?”

You swallow thickly. 

“This guy who got my number last month. Like, I didn’t give it to him — Utahime did,” you ramble. “But then we started texting and stuff and he’s… funny. He, uh, came over yesterday.”

“Did you like it?”

You imagine your throat closes up. Part of you wishes it would, that you’d just pass out immediately for no reason just so you didn’t have to have this conversation. You curse yourself for even bringing it up.

“Y-Yes.”

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” he chuckles.

“I am…”

“You don’t have to be so scared, baby. I know that Satortu took away your virginity, but he’s not some kind of god watching over you.”

“I know,” you huff.

“But you feel guilty, don’t you? Like you’re betraying him?” he teases.

You open your mouth to say something, then close it. You notice how he talks about Satoru and not himself.

“Do you care?”

“I know how you feel about me.” His answer is simple. Blunt. It almost sounds sarcastic, but Suguru often talks like he’s cock-sure about everything. Even if he isn’t, he’s always held a certain confidence that was different from what Satoru exuded. 

Satoru was a bad liar, to you, at least.

“Tell me about your boy. What’s his name?”

“He’s not–” you gruff. “Naoya. His name is Naoya.”

“That Zenin brat?”

“Huh?”

“He’s in the Zenin clan. A right bastard, I’ve heard.”

“He seems fine,” you mumble.

“Someone’s defensive,” he teases.

You pause, staring at the darkness of your ceiling. You fix your shorts, your fingers grazing the wetness of your core. You didn’t even realize you were aroused.

“I should go back to sleep,” you whisper.

“I thought you couldn’t. That’s why you called me, right? You need some help?”

“I don’t need help,” you scoff. “I just… I had a nightmare and wanted to talk to you.”

Suguru smiles. He knows you can’t see it, but he’s beaming in the darkness of his room. He’d been restless for the past few days after some disagreements with Satoru. He tried to blame the heat on physical altercations — the sun burning down to rev up the irritation in their shared systems like they were still boys. Always wanting to pin each other to the ground.

They didn’t have you to mediate, so they’d come out of arguments with bruises. Marks from skin tugged too harshly. The ghost of teeth biting down on flesh. 

“I wish you were here, babygirl,” he sighs, his tone desperate. You almost cringe at it — you always assume he’s playing with you.

“Yeah?” you snort.

“Mhm. It’s funny. You didn’t even wake me up when you called. I was already awake, thinking of you.”

“Were you, now?”

“Mhm,” Suguru hums.  “I just kept thinking about your thighs. How small your leg is compared to my hand.”

Your breath hitches and he almost laughs when he hears it.

“Can you do something for me, baby?” he asks. “Want you to touch yourself. Tell me how wet you are.”

You gulp. Your fingers prod at the hem of your athletic shorts, the nylon riding up as you squirm in your bed. Your index and middle fingers prod at the center of your core experimentally. You’re fucking dripping and it makes your breath hitch.

Suguru calls your name.

“I”m…” you stammer. “I’m wet. Why?”

“Poor thing. Maybe that’s why you can’t sleep, no?”

“I-I’m fine… I just—”

“You should play with your clit. Since I can’t be there to do it for you,” he breathes.

“What?”

“C’mon, sweetheart. I can tell my favorite girl just needs to relax. That’s why you called me, right?”

You whimper. It was maybe half-true. Suguru had stopped answering his texts as frequently as he usually did, and you missed the sound of his voice. The odd ache in your chest wasn’t something that you felt like exposing to anyone else, not even Satoru.

The silk of Suguru’s voice brings you back. You wanted to breathe him in, but he hadn’t visited like he said he would. Didn’t have the warping feature that Satoru had, which to this day, still startled you whenever it happened. Ocean eyes whipping your senses from thin air, like a lightning strike. 

Despite your recent gripes about him, you needed the both of them like you needed air. At least to make it all more bearable. It disgusted you a little bit, needing them like a finding addict. Living with yourself and yourself alone was starting to get old, though you aren’t sure how much left of you feels whole. You were always fruit split in between a blade, all the gory parts splayed out by the hand of someone greater than you.

You needed Suguru’s musk, his hair in between your fingers as he rocked into you. Your hands were too small compared to his. 

He has you panting, sweating through Kyoto’s mugginess. The dorms were in even worse shape here than on the main Tokyo campus, probably why Gakuganji was such a vapid old man. Everything was too hot and falling off the bone.

“I feel like I’m hallucinating. It’s like I can smell you through the phone,” Suguru murmurs, his voice like a mirage. You’d laugh if you weren’t so deep in your cunt, fingers pruning and pushed to the knuckles. 

Suguru knew you would do anything for him, so he made you torture yourself because he wasn’t there to do it himself.

Your groans are muffled from you smothering your face in the sheets, knees pressing down and ass up. Willing to humiliate yourself without him even being there.

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up already,” he chides.

“I’m not,” you whine.

“How many times have you cum?”

“None.”

He laughs. “What are you thinking about?”

“You know what.” 

You’re close to tears by the time he lets you cum. The sound of his voice hitting you deep in your core, insides permeated with the thought of him. Sweeter than smoked sugar.

It was the sound of his grunt that tipped you over, imagining him with black strands sticking to his high cheekbones with sweat. The apples of his face candy-pink. Where Satoru looked cherubic, Suguru looked like a girl’s first wet dream. 

“Were you touching yourself?” you pant, coming down from your high. You don’t bother putting on your underwear again.

“Obviously,” he groans. The vibrations of his voice made the speaker blow off-kilter like the audio of a shitty VHS. “Came all over myself.”

You could fall asleep to the sound of his static hums. The chaos in your gut is settled by the time your alarm clock strikes devil’s hour.

“How are things?” you ask sleepily.

“With me?” Suguru asks. “Fine. Same as always.”

“You sound tired.”

“It’s three in the morning, sweetheart,” he chuckles dryly.

“Mm. My phone bill’s gonna be so high.”

“Get Satoru to pay for it.”

The bastard probably would, if you asked.

You don’t get much out of Suguru for the remainder you’re awake. His answers are deflective and clipped. He hangs up by the time he hears you breathing, knowing you’ve fallen asleep.

He sighs in his room, rummaging for his pills. If nightmares didn’t keep him up, then the sheer unwillingness of his brain’s tranquility was often enough for him to run a graveyard shift. Stumbling in the dark, half-dead. He’d gotten productive in finishing the video games he’d started with Satoru by himself. Not much else.

His throat feels dry. He couldn’t differentiate the tastes of anything anymore. It all tasted like curses.

___

You keep having dreams about Suguru.

Tonight, there’s two of him.

One is the image you’re used to – hair swept up in a bun. Broad chest in his Jujutsu Tech uniform. Eyes crinkling into half moons.

The other seems to be an alter ego. A cursed version, one with eyes to kill and blood on his hands. Hands that are trying to tear you apart.

When you grip his wrist, you can see the imprint of your hand on his skin. Flesh falling away, much too easily. The air around you splinters like you’re in a glitched matrix. The Suguru you know and love falters beside you, his skin suddenly sallow. Pale as bile.

When you scream, nothing comes out.

Pseudo-Suguru smiles as your Suguru fades away into ash. You stare into his cat-like gaze, the familiar of his mouth. 

“Come with me,” he says. 

It’s the last thing you hear before your body wakes you up in a sweat. You gasp as you jolt awake, fingers curling your damp bedsheets. You’re further startled by the crack of thunder as a torrential downpour occurs without warning — unusual for late August, considering the rainy season had died down weeks prior. 

You sit up and reach for your phone almost automatically, your hands shaking as you go through your contacts. Your fingers hover over two names as you swallow thickly.

A few beeps follow the push of the call button.

“We’re sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #geto suguru x you #geto x you

[razorblade180]

9 days of Lancaster Day 9: Firsts

Ruby:(Don’t over complicate this. Don’t do it. Just relax… relax…)

Jaune:Uh Rubes?

Ruby:Y-Yes!?

Jaune:Are you gonna hit retry or…

She turns her head and notices they’re on they’re on the ranking screen. When did the match end!? Ruby finally hits continue. Jaune can’t help but chuckle a little as he leans back against Blake’s bed.

Ruby:What’s so funny?

Jaune:You seem a little lost in thought. Thinking of a way of outplaying me?

Ruby:I introduced you to this game. I know your skills.

Jaune:And yet I out rank you.

Ruby:Because you’re such a try hard! I’ve been busy on missions.

Jaune:Yeah that’s fair. It’s nice that you finally have time off. I would’ve thought your team would be knocked out for days. I was little shocked when you said you planned an all day video game date.

Ruby:I begged a little. Also called in a few favors. Weiss just needed a nice place to sleep, Blake is flexible and I became a pouty little sister for Yang.

Jaune:Qualities of a true leader.

Ruby:Shut up! I’m just happy you didn’t procrastinate on any assignments.

Jaune:Pyrrha said she’d add Nora to my training if I did.

Ruby:Yeah that would get me moving too. Soooo you’re really free ?

Jaune:Yep, I’m all yours for the day. Any game you need a partner in, I’ll help you see credits.

Ruby:…And if we get tired of games?

Jaune:We got movies. There’s a couple good ones that came while you were away. Or ones you’ll force me to watch.

Ruby:Stop acting like you don’t like horror.

Jaune:It really isn’t an act. But you planned all this and who am I to not appreciate that.

Ruby:So you’re done for anything?

Jaune:Yep!

Ruby:*red* Even…oh I don’t know, sleeping together?

Jaune’s hands stopped pressing buttons and Ruby managed to send him to the loser screen. It wasn’t intentional but a small boost of confidence as she turned her head right to see him looking at her with a flushed red face.

Ruby:Don’t make it weird!

Jaune:Me!? What!? You just- context please! Was that a ploy to win!?

Ruby:I’m not that petty! Look I just…. *plays with hair* thought maybe we should discuss that idea. We’ve been together for almost five months and it’s been really great! It’s felt a little weird though that you never seemed to make a move or bring up “that”

Jaune: Do I really give off that sorta vibe? I had no idea.

Ruby:I’m not saying you do, but between how you used to try flirting with Weiss and our casual conversations, it didn’t feel like you weren’t into more intimate things. Ugh, I really don’t know what I’m saying at this point! I guess a part of me felt a little confused and worried if you weren’t interested in me in that way at all.

Jaune:Oh I have had thoughts, but i know how to keep them to myself.

Ruby:….

Jaune:*blushing* That’s normal and decent behavior! Why, are you interested?

Ruby:Of course! I organized I room date to give you the opportunity to-

Saying it aloud made it sound way more embarrassing and forward than Ruby meant for it to be. And pulled her hood over her head and huffed in defeat as she stared down at her lap.

Jaune:….Does your team know about this?

Ruby:Blake does. She said her bed is fair game. Those are actually my sheets right now. As far as Yang is concerned, I asked for privacy so we can have our first kiss.

Jaune:We’ve made out a bunch of times.

Ruby:I’m very sneaky when I want to be. Look, I get this is a lot I’m dropping on you and we don’t have to do anything today. I just…really wanted to know where I stand with you and to let you know that…I’m okay with going further with you. *crimson* I really like you. A lot.

Jaune:…This question may sound a little dumb all things considering, but I have to hear it. I get that you’re okay with it, but do you want to have sex with me? As in your are looking forward to it?

Ruby:…Very much, yeah.

Jaune:….Hold on just one moment.

He took her scroll and walked out of the room. Ruby wanted to scream until she passed out. Why did she start this conversation!? Was it too forward!? They were having such a good time before this moment. Why did he leave!?

So many thoughts bombarded her brain and they didn’t stop when she heard the door unlock again. Her scroll flew into her lap so she knew it was him. Seconds later, a box of condoms fell into her lap. Her brain took a moment to process what she was looking at then her head immediately jerked up to see Jaune bright red and also avoiding her gaze.

Jaune: Nora may have helped me find female ones too, as well as emergency pills.

Ruby:Ah, I see. How proactive. Well…*twiddles fingers* Weiss may have helped me find a pay for some quality meds awhile go.

Jaune:Huh, imagine that.

Ruby:Yeeeep. Jaune, can you look at me?

Jaune:*makes eye contact*

Ruby:Soooo are we…still playing video games right now?

Jaune:…..

xxxxxx

Blake:*eating noodles*

Yang:You think the date is going well?

Weiss:Yes. *eating cake*

Yang:Really think she’ll go for a kiss?

Blake:Ruby can dive into a Nevermore’s mouth. She’ll find the willpower to kiss a boy.

Yang:….Maybe I should call t-

Weiss:Yang, as a younger sister myself, I appreciate my older sister. However, if she interrupted me on a date with a call or coming home early, I’m going to be mad for a very long time. Eat your burger and relax. Ruby will be fine.

Yang: I know, ugh! It’s like I’m antsy for her. Gods, if I’m like this now then I don’t know if I can handle her asking about sex.

Blake and Weiss:Don’t worry about that now.

#rwby #ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #9 days of lancaster #9 days of lancaster 2024 #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby lancaster

[101maverick]

Hey question, is it okay for parents to hit their kids?

Like, if me and my dad get into an ‘argument’ (aka me telling him he can’t just say “the conversation has ended for me” right after he insults me/orders me around while mocking me as if i had personally wronged him by temporarily leaving stuff i’m using on the kitchen table) and he gets mad at me and hits me, is it okay?

Because i don’t really “respect” his authority you could say, since i’m not afraid of telling him the way he acts towards me isn’t right and after he hits me i say “you can keep doing it all you want cause it doesn’t have any effect on me, i’m not scared of you”

But the thing is that whenever he comes close to me when we’re arguing i immediately flinch, hunch my shoulders, bring my arms up and squeeze my eyes, and my hands tremble after he does it even if it’s not hard enough to leave a bruise or anything (or maybe my skin’s just too dark for it, i also rarely blush even when my face burns so i don’t really know).

It’s not the first time it’s happened and i know that he has no authority over me to make me shut up and i’m not afraid of starting arguments just cause he doesn’t want to listen to me, but i don’t really know what to do or think.

It’s not that i’m being “abused”, i have a good life and I’m admittedly the biggest source of conflict in my family so i’m kinda the problem, it’s just that everyone in my family seems to think it’s okay for them to be all prissy towards me but whenever i talk back i’m always the one in the wrong. I’m never the one who starts the fight, i just defend myself by literally just talking and somehow i’m the problem.

I don’t know what to do or think so i guess i’m asking for outsider’s view on this? Is it okay for my dad to hit me in this context?

(The tags are so this post actually reaches somebody, idk how else to do it so sorry in advance!)

#jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #child abuse #maybe #idk for sure

[unicornpopcorn14]

13 for the ship prompt! :D

Ship Prompts 13- Write about your ship celebrating one of the members birthdays. Ship chosen: Queerplatonic Skk I got carried away with this (3.5k words aaaaa) 😭😭 Hope you enjoy it, Darcy!! :D

Saccharine

“You’re aware what day of the year it is, right?”

Dazai’s eyes widen, fork still in his mouth as the chatter of the restaurant fades in his ears. It’s been four– almost five years, surely Chuuya isn’t alluding to that. The moment he meets the other’s peeved face, however, his mouth gapes, with the fork still inside it, and whispers in horror,

“Don’t-”

Chuuya cuts him off with an exasperated sigh, “I enjoyed those 51 days of me being a year older, but alas. The time has come for me-”

“Don’t-”

“-to be nice to you for the whole day…”

“NOOOOO!!!” He grabs his hair as he lurches back, other customers turning to their table, “Chuuya, if you’re a sadist, I’d much rather find out in better ways!” He bangs on the table with flat hands, to which Chuuya’s veins bulge at, “Would you quit with that awful annual torture-?!”

“Come on, you do this every goddamn year!” Chuuya bickers back, “Indulge a little in what I put myself through for your ungrateful ass.”

“You do it because I don’t like it!”

“Well, true.” Chuuya shrugs, leaning back with folded arms, “But don’t you get at least a little tired from doing this shit constantly? I’d say this is a much needed change of pace-”

“First of all, how dare you suggest that this ‘shit’ is but a front. Maybe you can’t help but pretend to hate me– and I get it, after all, who could resist my charm? But I truly hate you-!”

“Uh huh.”

“-Second of all, I’d rather stay alive than ever go through that quote-un-quote: ‘needed change of pace’ for the third time in my miserable life!”

“That so?” The smirk that Chuuya wears sends Dazai’s long-have-been-numb nerves prickling in foreign agitation that he hasn’t felt in a long time-

“Oh my.” Chuuya’s tone and eyes instantly soften, and Dazai recoils back before he can help it, “Miserable life, Osamu? I’m so sorry to hear that. We can talk about it, you know-”

Dazai clasps his ears shut, “Shut uuuup!!!”

“As you wish,” Dazai grimaces even further because Chuuya just listened to him, “but do know I am always here to talk, yeah?” Chuuya unsheathes one of his gloves to take Dazai’s hand into his own, expression so uncanny as he genuinely smiles at Dazai. The brunette feels sick-

“I’ll avoid you for the whole day if you keep this up!” He threatens crackly, can’t bring himself to take his hand away, “The Agency is definitely pummeling without me helping with the paperwork.”

Chuuya normally would tell him that he slacks on the job anyway, but now he just simply closes his eyes, that same damn smile on his face, “Just say the word, and I’ll give you all the space you need. Never doubt that, mackerel.”

The pet name doesn’t grant him the normalcy he’s desperate for when Chuuya says it in that tone of voice, “No- You’re not supposed to-!” Dazai can sense that his lack of acutely predicting Chuuya’s responses might drive him crazy very soon, so he attempts to try to calm himself, “Aren’t there mafia business for you to attend, Mr. Executive? Does Mori even know you’re here?”

“Don’t worry, Osamu, I freed the whole day just for you.”

“Stop calling me that-”

“Anything you want-”

“Raaaaaghhh!!!” Now he takes his hand back, clutching it on his chest as if he’s been burned, “You’ll crack. You’ll definitely crack. There is no chance you’re keeping this up forever. Your tiny brain won’t handle it!”

But he knows that isn’t the case, because Chuuya’s tiny brain had handled it for the whole day during his seventeenth and eighteenth birthday, and now at 23, his tolerance to Dazai’s insults have significantly heightened, to the brunette’s sheer disdain.

Chuuya tilts his head a little, hair swaying, completing his sickeningly sweet demeanor, “I’d do anything for the most precious person in the world.”

“Eugh- I think I threw up in my mouth a little.” He gags with a fist on his mouth, voice groggy-

The waiter comes up to them, telling them that the other customers have complained about Dazai’s occasional shrieks. Chuuya, still so freaking sweetly, informs her that they were leaving already, pays the restaurant without complaining once about Dazai never pulling his own weight, and they take off.

“This is a nightmare.” Dazai says after a long moment of silence between them, something that never happens, “My feisty dog is suddenly nice, he’s definitely transpiring something wicked against me!”

Chuuya- Chuuya laughs, “You know you’re ridiculous with that…” He doesn’t say it meanly, wiping a tear, which Dazai’s brain haywires at-

“Really, now? Laughing at calling you my dog?” The smallest of frowns dares crease his forehead, “This is too much, even for you.”

“What? You’re funny.” Dazai’s face pales- greens even, “So, where do you want to go, birthday boy?”

Dazai bristles at the nickname, then inhales to calm himself, an idea springing up, “Fine. You asked for it, Slug!” He knows just the perfect way to break him, “We’re going to the arcade.”

He sees the flash in Chuuya’s eyes, and deems himself victorious. Chuuya would never maintain this bullshit at the arcade given his ridiculously competitive nature. He’ll definitely scream at Dazai once or twice out of habit more than anything-

Nothing.

Clearly Chuuya’s willpower has also improved through the years, because there isn’t a single aggressive shout, there isn’t any accusations of Dazai tampering with the machines (he had), and though Chuuya laughs and enjoys the rounds, what he utters after his loss is the straw that breaks the camel’s back,

“Aw shucks. Good match, that was fun.”

Dazai leaps from his seat and turns around the machines to reach the redhead, grabbing his cheeks with panicked eyes, “Chuuya, Chuuya are you in there?! I think you’ve been possessed!” He speaks to the eyes, sensing their amused confusion, “Do something to tell me you’re in there! Any sign!”

Chuuya smiles.

“Ahh!” Dazai lets him go instantly, “Begone, demon!!”

“Come on, now.” The not-Chuuya says fondly- eughhh, “Up for another round?”

“No!” This didn’t work. Dazai needs to think of other ways, make up a plan. Operation: exorcising this cloying demon out of his partner begins in-

“How about we go to my apartment? I have a surprise for you.”

Dazai’s eyes dart as his mind runs in terrifying speeds, addressing the other without looking, “I don’t trust you with surprises right now. You may be small, but you’re no less terrifying.”

Chuuya chuckles, “You’ll love it, trust me-”

Dazai gets into a fighting stance, gasping, “Do not speak of trust with that tone of voice, not-Chuuya!”

Chuuya chuckles again, and his silky tone coaxes him to follow him to his apartment, nevertheless. Dazai can’t believe he’ll have to endure seven more hours of this, planning to break a thing or two of Chuuya’s belongings out of spite if nothing else.

“Don’t think your façade is fooling me, I can see right through you!” He announces impatiently from the couch, leg bouncing up and down as Chuuya pours drinks from the kitchen, “You gagged at least twice through this, didn’t you? Admit it.”

Chuuya laughs again, a record in Dazai’s book. This is so ridiculous. “Stop cracking me up, I can’t pour the drinks.”

Dazai sulks, sinking into the couch, “Shut up…” But it’s weak, replaced by flusterment he can’t ebb down. He feels suddenly helpless with the lack of the reactions, and wonders if he’s losing his touch. The antique vase looks like it wants to crash into the floor in full speed so much right now.

“You’re a little red.” Not-Chuuya is suddenly in front of him, sitting down as he gapes up at him in amusement, “Cute.” He attempts to give Daza his drink.

Dazai, with crossed arms, huffs and turns away, “I’m not talking to you.”

“Why? Did I do anything wrong?” Chuuya asks gently with a smile, placing the glass on the table. Dazai turns even further in order to hide the other from his peripheral.

No, you didn’t. And that’s the problem.

“Your hair looks soft. Fluffy.” Dazai suddenly feels fingers running through the back of his head. His noddle whips so fast his neck feels like it cracked,

“Ew, ew! Don’t touch me, cheap-Chibi-replica!!” He doesn’t exactly flinch away, fuming, “The real Chuuya calls my hair a dirty mop all the time! Do better!”

Not-Chuuya brushes his bangs this time, fixated on them as he speaks, “Maybe he never told you those things because…” He pauses, eyes down-casting a little. Dazai begged him to say ‘you’re a pain in the ass’. It’s what he expects, it’s what makes perfect sense, it’s what aligns with the Chuuya he knows like the back of his hand, pleasepleaseplease-

“…he never really thought he deserved you enough to do so.”

Dazai rigids, “WHAT?!”

“He’s afraid of things he’ll lose.” Chuuya, to Dazai’s absolute disdain, explains, “So he tries his best to push everyone away. Everyone he’s sure will be too precious to him, everyone he’ll latch onto just a little too much, he tries his best to maintain his distance from th-”

“Chuuya, I have never been more serious with you in my life: Please stop.” Dazai numbly says, suddenly so, so exhausted.

The redhead’s mouth clasps, as per request, but he clarifies that it still isn’t over, “Only six more hours and I will.”

“Why?” Dazai stresses, uncomfortable, “You can end it here. Nothing obligates you to-”

“You never asked for your surprise.” Chuuya cuts him off.

Dazai blinks, turning to him, “If I see it, will you stop?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Of course I will.” Dazai rolls his eyes, “Now, on with it. If it gets the real Chuuya out, then the sooner the better.”

Chuuya smiles, but there is something solemn regarding it. He gets up, with Dazai observing his every move, and scurries through a drawer big and wide enough to accommodate stacks of files and documents. Dazai’s eyes narrow, never taking interest to rummage through this particular drawer for how boring its contents appear to be, but now his interest in piqued, as Chuuya finds what he’s looking for with a small: “Aha.”

Dazai thinks he sees an envelope in Chuuya’s hand as he ambles closer, but that can’t be right-

“Here.”

“Your surprise is a letter?” Dazai truly hasn’t been more confused in his life. He hates that he can’t see where this is going, inspecting the brown envelope as he speaks, “Chuuya, I don’t think there is anything you can’t verbally say to me now, do you? This is usele-”

His eyes widen, breath catching in his throat as he reads the name embedded on the paper.

From: Odasaku

Time seems to stop while Dazai reads the nickname once, twice. It’s in English cursive that can never be Chuuya’s handwriting, and his hands tremble ever so slightly the moment he registers the credibility of what he’s holding. This is real.

“You- wh-” He looks back and forth between the envelope and Chuuya’s gentle eyes, gaze never seeming to want to leave either.

Chuuya sits on the couch, voice subdued, “Your Executive desk was cleared by me after your defection, as per my own request. I was admittedly selfish– looking for anything you might have left for me before you left. Something to explain, anything-”

“Chuuya-”

“Hey, let me finish, will you?” Chuuya sends him a soft smile in reassurance, “I found this instead, read the first two paragraphs before I closed it again. It explained everything I needed to know, Dazai.” He leans back, drinking out of the wine glass, “You can read it privately if you want.”

But Dazai doesn’t get up, scrambling to take the paper out with shaky fingers. His heart wildly throbs once a long wall of text meets his widened eyes,

This is but my latest prose as a person worthy of being a writer, a person who is not tainted with blood. Dazai, if I die before seeing you one last time, I do not wish to end things between us on such terms. There is a lot I wish to tell you before I leave…

Dazai reads every word, eyes welling against his will, making the letters blur and scramble as one. Oda speaks of their time together, his fondest memories, his ideals- tells him he would’ve left a letter for Ango hadn’t it been for the circumstances. Tells him the name of his adopted children, the characteristics each of them had.

I, truly, have considered you one of them.

Oda informs him of how much he resembled a burnt black cat the first time they met, how he doesn’t seem as burnt now. Dazai chuckles wetly as Odasaku says that he’s happy he’d known him, even for a short while, even in their circumstances.

Whatever path you’ll choose after what occurs, please remember this:

The brunette suddenly hiccups, an ugly sound seldom forced out of him. He covers his mouth, finds his lips too shaky to form words, heart feeling more than all it had felt in almost half a decade-

“He said he’s proud of me, even before knowing I’d defect.” He isn’t sure why he’s whispering this to his partner, “He-” His cheeks feel wetter than before, to which he looks at his hand. Droplets of salt continue to fall on them so assertively, he thinks they might cause them to bleed,

“What is this- what have you done to me…?” Dazai knows he’s crying, he just doesn’t know why he can’t will himself to feel numb again. Everything is hazy and sloppy and wet, and he keeps the precious paper away, afraid it will get caught up in that uncontrollable mess…

“Do you hate it?” Chuuya asks faintly, with some regret in it. Dazai shakes his head, leaving the letter on the table-

“No, I don’t but- these monstrous things won’t stop.” He croaks as he wipes with both hands on his face, and to his horror the tears double, the sobs get even more violent, “I think I’ve been possessed, too…”

“Hey, come here…” Chuuya guides him through his fit, which Dazai blindly follows, till he finds himself with a weight on his laps and both arms and legs embracing him. Dazai latches back so tightly, trembling as he puts all of his force into the fists that both hit Chuuya lightly and grab the back of his shirt with. He doesn’t have to wipe the tears when Chuuya’s garment acts as a napkin, soaking every single thing he wishes to hide.

“He said he’s proud…” Dazai repeats, squeaks, burying his nose into the warmth of his partner.

“That he did.” Chuuya’s ungloved fingers caress his hair, and don’t stop until the persistent tears finally stop flowing. Dazai stays huddled in the warmth for more seconds despite himself, selfishly wishing to steal it all, before shifting to indicate his desire to draw away, and Chuuya instantly gets off of him.

He can’t bring himself to look at the azure pupils no matter how hard he tries, eyes shifting away to the table and the carpet and the hands on his lap.

It has been long since he’s felt this bare, much less over a gift. He had received many birthday presents in the last two years especially: Ranpo would give him all the sweets he could offer, Kenji crops from his field, Kyouka pretty daggers, Atsushi hugs and flowers, the Tanizaki siblings a cake of their making, Yosano fancy wine bottles, Kunikida would treat him to a meal, and Fukuzawa would orchestrate the whole party…

While it would all be appreciated, he never really felt any joy over being one year older. Most times he regrets ever living this long, so he doesn’t regard the gifts or parties done in his honor with as much gratefulness as he feels he’s supposed to.

But this? This one letter lying opened on the table?

It might be the best birthday gift he’d… ever received.

And he wants to let Chuuya know that.

“Uh.” What was he supposed to say again? What did normal people say in situations like this? Thank you? Sorry? “You’re… appreciable, slug.”

That was neither- what the fuck, brain??

Chuuya would have pointed his terrible attempt at being grateful out at any other day, but now he simply smiles relievedly,

“I’m glad you like it.”

This version of his partner is starting to prove that he isn’t so bad, after all.

Dazai frowns, still avoiding eye-contact, “No, um, what I mean is… mmmm….” He sinks so far in the couch, till only his head is reclining by the back of the seat. He crosses his arms and averts his face, physically forcing himself to say it, “tnks…” he whispers.

“Hm?”

It’s a beat, then Dazai roughly flops his head on Chuuya’s lap, because he can’t articulate his appreciation with words, and thus wants to show it by doing something Chuuya likes, which is having to look down to see Dazai instead of the other way around. He feels the other tense for a second before his hand reluctantly cups his brown hair in question.

“Thanks.” Dazai grits into Chuuya’s pants, then rolls on his back, finally meeting the amused blues, “Don’t get the wrong idea, demon, you won’t catch me saying this to the real Chuuya at all. But you get a pass. Only this once.”

“Might as well feel honored, huh?” Chuuya chuckles, and it’s truly genuine.

A small smile cracks Dazai’s face for a mere second. Wannabe-Chuuya is really more acquainted to handle these moments than regular Chuuya. It’s definitely why he waited for Dazai’s birthday to hand the letter to him– an excuse to show his raw and real care that Dazai undeservedly bathes himself in.

“So, do you want him back, now?”

Dazai doesn’t, but can't ever shed light on contradicting himself, so he dramatically says instead, “I’ll think about it.”

The redhead’s brow ridges, though not with his typical ‘I’m done with your bullshit’ frown. It’s with a smile.

He wonders when Chuuya ever learned to be this good of an actor.

Dazai feigns a long sigh, “Fine, you can stay a little longer…” then pauses, blinking upwards, “Wait- am I betraying real-Chuuya that way?”

“I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” Chuuya says as he strokes Dazai’s unkempt bangs away from his face.

Dazai’s mouth curls in displeasure because he likes it, “I hate you.”

“He hates you too, buddy.” It’s better to hear it in third person, like this part of Chuuya forever believes he is worth not being hated, “Wanna spend the rest of the day here or go somewhere else?”

“Energy’s gone, not-my-Chibi.” He twirls the long end of the fiery hair in a finger, “Outdoor activities will be a chore…”

Chuuya shakes his head and rolls his eyes in fondness, “This might be the lamest birthday setting ever.”

“That’s exactly right.” Dazai sneers, “But when were we ever conventional with the way we do things?”

“Touche. At least I got a cake and a candle.”

“Ugh, no. You know I hate formalities.”

They carry it out anyway, with Dazai ruining Chuuya’s attempts to sing properly, and Chuuya being patient through and through.  

His partner must have expected Dazai to want to stay home after receiving his gift, because they spend the next six hours doing everything Dazai likes– They play videogames, they cook and Dazai makes the kitchen an unsalvageable mess, they wildly dance together and stumble on their feet, they watch murder mysteries and brain rotting soap operas in a pillow fort, they play with cards and Chuuya loses every single time.

It's until there is fifteen minutes left till midnight, with Dazai getting his hair braided, that he finds himself glancing back with a devious idea in mind. Testing Chuuya’s willpower one last time wouldn’t hurt, would it…?

“Ah, so. I hate to admit it– who am I kidding, no I don't,” He gives an exaggerated winces as he glances back, “but I maybe, sorta bleached all your coats while you were in the restroom when I was mad at you.”

Chuuya pauses his braiding, staring at Dazai for a long while… then all of the veins on his body pop-

He gets yanked backwards by the hair, “Ow, OW!” Dazai laughs because finally, “My, Chuuya, you’re back sooner than expected!”

Chuuya grabs him in a chokehold, which Dazai tries to escape from, “I can’t fucking take it anymore,” He growls, and Dazai laughs even harder, “My coats? MY COATS, DAZAI?!”

“It’s tie-dye season! Never heard of tie-dye season?!” Dazai slips downwards, successfully scrambling away as Chuuya attempts to grab him but he isn’t fast enough-

“GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!!”

Dazai's half-done braids bounce as he sprints, “Bring nice-Chuuya back first!!”

“SAY GOODBYE TO HIM FOREVER, BASTARD!”

“What?! Noooo, call me Osamu one last time!”

“IN YOUR WILDEST FUCKING DREAMS!!”

They pause the chase when Dazai’s behind the kitchen counter and Chuuya’s outside, if only to catch their breaths, “You know, if it weren’t for the fact that me being nice isn’t as effective on you, I’d have made it a staple on your birthday as well!”

Dazai grins evilly, as Chuuya pales.

“How would that go, again?” Dazai taps his chin, “Oh, Nakahara-Sama, You’re so smart and cool.” Chuuya’s face turns green, the piled urge to vomit since he’d started his act finally getting to him, “You are definitely not a dog and you’re actually the perfect height, goes nicely with your figure and strong build-“

“No, fuck! Euuugh!!!” Chuuya actively empties his stomach in a conveniently placed bucket, Dazai claps in victory,

“Aha! Maximum damage!!!” He points at him, “What comes around goes around, Slug!!”

“You’ll fucking pay for that!”

Chuuya breaks the door of the kitchen down, adding to the unhopeful mess Dazai’d made. Their wild goose chase keeps going till three in the morning.

And Dazai? Keeps laughing till all his heart’s content…

#Healthy relationships are not Dazai’s forte #Chuuya threw up in his mouth a few times during this #I assure you dljsnjl #this is the first time I’m writing 22!skk this was so hard #I never thought writing nice Chuuya would be so difficult #I was screaming in horror along with Dazai #emetophobia warning! #some hurt/comfort #humor #silly #silly skk #bsd #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #skk #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd fanfic #J's post #J's writing ✍🏽 #J's fic #hugs #fluff #this will be uploaded on ao3 on June 19th!! :D #soft skk #oda sakunosuke #bsd oda #writers on tumblr

[trenchcoat-turtle]

Summary: All of his brothers have found their person. Meanwhile he’s stuck pining for Leo’s girlfriend’s roommate. Why does the girl of his dreams have to be taken?

“Hey Raph!” I called as I walked into the lair.

“Hey, y/n. If you’re looking for Whitney, she and Leo are already in his room.” He snickered.

“Oh, yeah I was looking for her, but I definitely don’t want to accidentally interrupt anything.”

“With how long it’s been since they last saw each other, I wouldn’t recommend it.” He chuckled again.

“You guys have been really busy lately, huh?” I asked him.

“It’s been a tough couple a weeks.” He shook his head. “Foot activity just keeps growing. It feels like an impossible task to protect the city from them sometimes.” Raphael responded.

“I can’t imagine. You carry so much weight on your shoulders.” I replied as I placed a comforting hand on his arm.

His eyes lingered on mine before he seemed to shake himself from his thoughts.

“Anyway, enough about that depressing shit, how have ya been?” He asked.

“Well, I’m single.” I laughed. “Finally got the courage to break it off with him.”

A bright smile graced his green face.

“I didn’t realize you two were having problems.”

“Yeah we have been for a while. I found out that he wasn’t cheating on me like it thought. No, the reason why he is gone all hours of the night is because he joined the foot! I was so disgusted, I would have rather he had been cheating!” I ranted as I pulled a bottle of wine out of the overnight bag I brought with me.

“He what? He is a member of the foot now? Oh shit, just wait till I get my hands on him.” Raph spoke as he cracked his knuckles.

Then almost distractedly he asked, “You spendin the night?” He motioned towards my overnight bag.

“Uh, yeah if that’s okay with you. I don’t want to stay at the apartment alone tonight.” I shrugged.

“Well since you’re stayin, you wanna watch a movie or somethin?” He asked as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Horror?” I asked hopefully as I filled two cups with red wine.

“Do we ever watch anything else?” He laughed as he took the wine from my hand. He took a swig of the rich red liquid and made a face.

“What? You don’t like red?”

“Nah? What happened to the sweet white kind you always bring?”

“I thought we should be more adventurous.” I waggled my eyes as I spoke.

His mouth dropped open a little before he quickly gained his composure. He gulped down the rest of the wine in his glass.

“Let’s go pick a flick.” I stated and he followed me out of the kitchen.

After a short deliberation we decided on Evil Dead 2. We both got comfortable on the tattered couch. Him on one end and myself on the other. After the first death in the movie, I found myself inching closer and closer to him.

“I need to stretch my legs, do you mind if I lean against you and stretch out?” I finally asked him.

“Y-yeah of course.” He replied with a bit of a stutter before motioning me over.

I snuggled up next to his side and stretched my legs across the length of the couch. His arm came to rest around me as he pulled me close.

Halfway through the movie I had completely stopped paying attention. The only thing I could think about was how good it felt to be in his arms. I was relishing in it.

Was relishing in it, until Mikey came into the room.

“What is goin on with you guys?” He asked suggestively.

“Watchin a movie. What’s it look like numb nuts?” Raphael grumbled as he held me to his side to keep me from putting distance between us. He also sent a death stare at Mikey that made him get the hint. I’ve never seen him give up on teasing so quickly.

“Oh, right. Well, good night y/n.” Mikey replied before turning around and all but running from the room.

“What was that all about?” I asked with a laugh.

“You know how Mike is. Always tryin to play match maker.” He shrugged.

“And what if he was trying to play match maker with us?” I asked him as I looked up at his green eyes. I twirled the end of his mask in my fingers.

He gulped. “I won’t let him drive you crazy like that, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think he’d be pretty successful. On my end anyway.”

“You’re serious? A girl like you with a guy like me?” He scoffed.

I sat up and faced him. The movie all but forgotten in the background.

“Yeah, Raph. What is that even supposed to mean? You’re hot, strong, sweet, and funny. Why wouldn’t I be interested in you?”

He was speechless for a moment before finally saying, “You have no idea how long I have wanted you.”

“If it’s half as long as I have wanted you, I do think I have some idea.” I cupped his cheek with my hand. “I had been planning to break up with what’s his face for a long time because you are who I truly want. I was just afraid of what he might have done to me if I had.”

“You know I will always protect you. You ain’t gotta worry about him.”

I leaned in and kissed him. He responded back immediately. The kiss was needy and before I knew what was happening he was pulling me onto his lap.

He deepened the kiss and I felt a bulge through his pants. The skirt I had worn was pushed up around my thighs and I rubbed against his erection. He moaned against my lips further spurring my hips into motion.

Breathlessly I asked, “Bedroom?”

His response was to pick me up from the couch and carry me to his bed.

—

AN: sorry for any mistakes! I wrote this on my phone since my laptop is being buggy.

#tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2014 #tmnt raphael #bayverse #tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt x y/n

[ewicomkicks2point0]

YEEEAAAAHHHHHHH SCOTTTTTTLLLAAAAAAAAANDDDDD

Logve the way you dRAW DEMOMAGN AND HIS BOMB MOTHER. awrsome

Sorry for the late reply,, thank you so much !!! I’m glad that people are feeling any amount of joy from my drawings but I really had to force this one out. I’ve given up on posting my stupid drawings at the moment, it just feels so wrong. Still, many thanks to you all.

#I was gonna draw something way more patriotic and fun #but I just can’t bring myself to do anything #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 fanart #tf2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 demoman #tf2 demoman's parents

[dailyjevil]

Day 150 of posting Jevil every day

#jev :] #I feel bad drawing such a simple jevil on what’s otherwise a big milestone but todays been rough on me #I’ll be fine I’m not hurt or anything but I still don’t feel like drawing #nevertheless it amazes me how far I’ve come. Here’s a bit of lore of the person who runs this- I actually have a super hard time- #-doing projects that are long term. Whether it’s big projects or things that take a long time I just can’t bring myself to do em #and yet here I am on day 150. I didn’t expect to last a month!! #I feel like I say this every day but I’m very proud of myself #and I wouldn’t have been able to do this without everyone’s constant support #thank you all verrrrrrry very much <3 #dailyjevil #deltarune #deltarune jevil #jevil #jevil deltarune

[garfield-milk]

heyyyy @ssreeder guess what <3

#I promised you something so here it is #it’s just a sketch #(because I can’t bring myself to actually draw anything) #but I think you deserve something after such a beautiful chapter #also #while doing this I realized that it’s been i year since my first fanart for you fic #(which happens to also be cuddling zukka lmao) #I’m not sure if this is 100% a curated because I just remembered a line in which zuko touches sokkas face and went with it #accurate* #atla #avatar the last airbender #zukka #zuko #sokka #atla fanart #fanart #ngl i hate this but its good enough for the huuuuuge artblock im going through #my art

[steffigraf]

crying over tennis just isn’t the same when there’s no actual tennis going on. still crying tho

#also i think im just. so fucking out of it bc of how near xmas is #and my semester is killing me but i can’t bring myself to do anything #and idk things just feel shitty rn for no particular reason and the lack of tennis isn’t helping #i need a break and like. fourteen hours of uninterrupted sleep. #tennisms

[actualnymph]

I genuinely have no will to live at all but I keep going bc I have no choice. I have no interest in any career, I can’t focus on any hobbies, it’s all just so boring but i power through every day. I can’t imagine my whole life being like this but idek how to change it.

#genuinely I hope I have some accident 😭 bc offing myself would be horrible for my family. but anyway. I want to build a life for myself but #I genuinely cannot bring myself to care bc I’m not interested in anything 😝 there’s something wrong with me. and yes I’ve been medicated #before but it didn’t make me magically suddenly know what I want to do and who I want to be. anyway. this is a rant bc idk just bc. #trying not to be online so much but tbh I’ve just been staring at walls and sleeping I can’t keep going on like this #t

[pinkspiraling]

i can’t believe it’s april. time passes and i do nothing but go backwards! i have been empty for so long. i would rather be filled with sadness or anger or panic or literally anything. i would rather feel anything than feel so much nothing

#it’s been so long. i feel insane sometimes bc it’s like i really can’t bring myself to care about anything #i can’t enjoy the little things bc the little things don’t bring me enjoyment and big exciting things don’t either #like i have reasons for sticking around and they are all for other people #all the things i try to look forward to are things that i feel like i could do without. the wedding and concerts and vacations idc. #i don’t even want them. i know i will still be empty and they will make emptier. #oh god i don’t wanna be alive. sorry i’m venting sm i’ll stop but holy fuck i’m just over it #pink’s word vomiting

[mymelodyisme]

My sister’s graduation day 😤 let’s go 👏🏽

#gosh it’s gonna be a long day and I’m running on two hours of sleep again #i only get the chance to work at night because I don’t have ✨privacy✨ #and I’ve been going to bed late and waking up even more tired than usual and my mom’s been scolding me for it #and now I’ve had to tell her what I’m doing and I feel like I just gave another piece of me away again #everything I am everything I do has to be for other people #im so tired when will I give my last piece away 🥹 #this was to make ME proud of ME I was doing it for myself and now I feel like it’s for her #and then she’s going to tell my dad and now it’s for him too #also I can’t even cry about it because she HAS to know why I’m upset #she keeps glancing up at me and talking to me in bits #all I have left is my emotions 🥹 #anyhow sorry to start the day off so gloomy and depressing I have literally nothing to be sad about I’m very privileged #sorry you guys see me being a baby constantly 🥺 I really do have a good life and shouldn’t be complaining #here’s to a better day for us all #melifails #now i feel like a jerk subjecting you all to this😭 sorry sorry let’s move on #im gonna be a busy bee hopefully I can squeeze in a time for a nap #😭 I don’t waaaaaannnnnaaa sit for hours in the California heat MAYBE with the sun hitting us in the face #our football field is NOT kind in this way #hopefully my sister gets the shady side but even then the sun will hit us in the face eventually just not as long #im !!! excited!!!! I bought ice cream for today 👏🏽 I originally bought choco chip and minto moose tracks?? my sister loves mint flavor #so I bought mint Oreos too so she can eat them with her ice cream 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 #i assume we’re getting take out of some sort so that; ice cream; and uuuuuuu I don’t remember anything else I bought; my best friend did #bring us snacks yesterday!!! pretzels and cookies!!! so that!!! #okay brain no work no more I gotta get dressed love you muah muah muah

[bethiewhimsy]

i’ve been stricken with so many problems.

#1) the fucking yearning. go away. i don’t need romantic love. it SUCKS and it’s BAD. disgusting. #2) a sudden repulsion for skirts???? WHAT THE HELL. I LOVE SKIRTS. BUT I CANT BRING MYSELF TO WEAR THEM RN. it’s so fucking weird. #3) i have to actually decide what to do with my life. like. big things. like getting a damn apartment. #4) the crippling fear of growing up has resurfaced. i just turned 20. i don’t want to do this shit anymore. #anyway i’m fine 👍 #i suppose this is a vent post??? but in the tags. #haven’t vented on tumblr dot com in a hot hot hot minute #not since my irl friend started following me (hopefully they’re not reading this but if they are: hi) #ranting in the tags feels SO much safer. like. no one’s coming in here #OH ANOTHER THING. #5) a fucking midterm is here and it takes EFFORT. #it’s whatever im just feeling feelings and that’s all right #at least i have a fun little thing to look forward to this weekend #im going to see a ballet !!! #but damn……::::that makes me think about how i’ll never actually do anything with my life. #like we can’t all be on the stage but hell #like??? the knowledge that it only gets worse from here???????????? what the actual hell #and sometimes i think about how i’ll always have to be in the closet. #which sometimes im completely fine with and other times it hurts me a lot #idk. IDK. #anyway. im 20 and i don’t know what im doing with my life and ive never had a lover and i don’t have many friends #and i don’t have any passions or dreams or goals and we’re all only here to one day die. #damn i guess this is why people journal #maybe i should pick up journaling #i think it’d help tbh #anyway im rlly truly actually done now #edit: I HAVE ANOTHER PROBLEM #6) MY PERIOD IS MAKING ME UPSET. everything hurts and im gonna be so nauseous and gross tomorrow help me. pain & agony #7) i cant fall asleep!!!!!!!!!!! but im so tired!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #8) im gonna have to sit thru a transphobic + misogynistic + toxic ass chapel teaching tomorrow.