#black nail polish truly is for everyone

[maeby-cursed]

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who waits for you in the parking lot after class. clad in a black hoodie covered in bleached designs, and baggy jeans, he looks like something straight out of your dirtiest fantasies.

he smiles when he sees you, the dimples he got from his cheek piercings in full display. he looks sweet as a peach pie like this — a feature that seems out of place coming from the wild-haired, smoky-eyed boy —, but you know that nobody else gets to see him the way you do.

that makes you smile.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who teaches you how to ride a skateboard. he sits you down on the deck and positions himself behind you, keeping your legs between his. you both propel yourselves with a couple of kicks to the ground and speed down the ramp of the park.

his friends laugh at the sight of you shrieking with delight, and he smiles, pushing your hair to the side so he can see your eyes, brimming with adrenaline and a danger that begins to taste like him.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who is there for every single one of your firsts and kind of regrets not being able to experience his own with you. he holds your hair during your first hangover, doesn’t laugh when you cough after your very first drag of a cigarette, and sleeps under your lilac covers after you’ve spent your first night with him.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who drops out of school because he finds it tedious, who is kicked out of his parents' house. who now lives with his best friend satoru, and is studying cosmetics at a course.

you've seen his sketchbooks, his delicate and intricate designs. you've seen how he braids some of his hair when he's tense and how he applies red shadows with care whenever you two go out on a date. you’ve seen how much talent he has. 

he dreams of being a tattoo artist and you’re sure he will be.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who is reluctant to tattoo you. he's been doing this for two years now; he's done full backs, arms and legs. he's even done piercings; eyebrows, nipples, bellybuttons. 

but your skin is different. your body contains your person and he doesn't feel quite ready to mark it.

yet he's never been good at saying no to you so he ends up giving in.

teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who, at twenty, spends his evenings in your shitty apartment contemplating the little heart he carved into your hip and kissing it.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who helps you with your studies, who's not quite a teenager anymore but who still takes you to the park from time to time, to watch that shine in your eyes come to life when you ride his skateboard again – just like it did that first time.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who never gives up his black eye shadow even if the years go by, who keeps a little bit of his old self in his combat boots, in his chipped nail polish.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who at twenty-six adopts two girls whose parents also threw them out, who works double shifts every day until he’s twenty-nine and is able to open his own tattoo shop, who keeps on working so they can get the lives he believes they deserve.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who still listens to his favorite songs. ‘one of us’ and ‘american idiot’ and ‘teenagers’; who dances with you and your little girls to all of them.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who, although his exterior never truly softens, has always been full of kindness and clouds.

grown teenage dirtbag!suguru geto who deep down knows that a part of him will be eternally misunderstood by everyone else, yet who recognizes something in your eyes; something that assures him that in this house – this house he’s built with love and devotion to his true self – everyone else does understand him. and know him.

and love him still.

#˙⋆ 𓂃 ࣪ch. thoughts ! #no i do not wtf this is either #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru imagines

[merakiui]

boyfriend.

yandere!female!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied (cyber)stalking, cheating, dub-con, alcohol/intoxication, characters written as 18+ note - riddle seeks to prune the filthy weeds from your life, starting with your ill-mannered boyfriend. // inspired by dove cameron's boyfriend.

i. i can’t believe we’re finally alone. i can’t believe i almost went home. what are the chances? everyone’s dancing, and he’s not with you.

Riddle has never traveled to this part of the city before—the seedy, unsavory sliver overshadowed by towering skyscrapers, illicit, perilous secrets tucked away in every alley. It’s not as if she’s here under duress. Although if you were to frame it from her perspective, it would feel less like an active, consensual choice and more of a you’ve-forced-my-hand choice. It’s blatant rule-breaking all the same, a stain on her delicate character. Blight on her shiny social status as a golden child, forever marked as the obedient one.

She’s lived her rebellious streak, was punished swiftly and accordingly, and strived to be better in the aftermath. It was one thing to slip out during independent study, and that fun had been trampled upon by a cruel, heeled foot. That was a child’s error. A lesson learned. A valid reason to sever all distractions and improve academically, consequently maturing with sharp, sparkling intelligence and abysmal social skills. 

But Riddle is no longer that starry-eyed, impressionable child, and she does not make the same mistake twice.

Or so she’s always believed, but she’s willing to risk an unforgiving tongue-lashing and life imprisonment at the hands of her mother if it means she can fix things. No matter how she spins it, the truth remains the same: She’s fallen back on an old habit, sneaking out and keeping secrets. She’s an open book to Trey, though, who she’d taken care to message on the train ride into the city, her text mostly cryptic: Should anything happen, this is where I’ll be. It’s wrong to skirt around the truth, especially when it’s your closest friend. She knows this, but then she also knows Trey gives terribly good advice. The type of terribly good advice you often don’t want to hear.

Advice like: “You need to let her go.”

And Riddle can’t—won’t. 

So she steps into the digital footprints left by that brash, brutish party animal you lovingly call your boyfriend, and she follows the string of social media posts like a diligent detective, flicking through each with manicured fingernails. She commits them to memory so that they remain imprinted in her mind before they’ll eventually expire at the twenty-four hour mark.

In the days leading up to tonight, Cater had taken her out for their usual self-care makeover day, which was really just a day dedicated to dressing up and gossiping at the salon. It was a monthly arrangement, and it kept the both of them entertained and sane. The latter of those two was called into question when Riddle, wholly out of character, selected black nail polish for her mani-pedi, which left Cater looking on with brewing curiosity. She gazed at him, pouty lips upturned slyly, and said, “I thought I’d give red a temporary break.”

“Oh, but red is so your color!” he insisted, raising his phone to capture both of them in frame. 

Riddle smiled at the camera. “I know.”

It has always been her color, a staple in her closet. It’s a favorite she can never truly shake, hence why it stains her lips instead. Bright like arterial blood, a blossoming carnation, it stands out starkly on her pale countenance—the only splotch of color on her person. Cater took her shopping when he’d learned she was attempting to fit a new style into her wardrobe of prim, modest clothes. They ran up and down the racks, grinning at each other from across the store and holding up sweaters and skirts, weighing whether either would suit Riddle’s night out. In the end, she settled for the outfit she wears now: a red tube top, a cropped puffer jacket, a pencil skirt that doesn’t pass the fingertip test (not that she cares to follow that rule), tights, and knee-high heeled boots. To finish the look, she’s pulled her hair from its usual plaits, allowing it to cascade down her back like a crimson waterfall. Fingerless lace gloves adorn her hands, stitched with intricate patterns of roses and thorns.

Cater called it the Femme Fatale Friday fit. It’s a Saturday night, but it feels like Friday when she peers at her reflection in a pocket mirror, checking her makeup once more. 

She will not make the same mistake twice. She’s a paragon of perfection—Riddle Rosehearts, for seven’s sake! 

Stuffing the mirror into a matching handbag, she eyes the skyscraper looming before her, sleek with its metal framework and industrial glass. The bright cityscape reflects off of each window, dazzling with luminous specks of light. She considers the contents in her purse, reviews each with a critical eye, and inhales a steadying breath. 

This is necessary.

She’s an adult now, nearly finished with her graduate studies. She lives on her own in a quaint, pet-friendly apartment with her hedgehog, and she works part-time at the café down the street, putting forth her best effort as she weathers the woes of university. Despite all of this independence, she doesn’t feel like an adult. 

Not when she can hear her mother in the back of her head: You look ridiculous. Come home right now before you make a fool of yourself and sully my good name.

Riddle scowls at the concrete, curling her fingers into fists. 

She’s an adult now. She is not her mother’s doll.

Leaving all hostility and self-doubt at the door, she steps through the lobby and beelines for the lift. It carries her to her destination—one of the highest floors. A penthouse suite. 

And not just any penthouse suite. Floyd Leech’s penthouse suite.

Under normal circumstances, she would never willingly set foot in his territory. She survived four years of school with him, which was already a sickening amount, and in that time she watched him glide through his undergraduate with just barely passing grades. That wasn’t enough to stoke the red-hot embers of envy, though. It only made him seem even more like a cockroach, unable to be crushed by the weight of scholarly responsibilities, for he never took anything seriously.

For that reason, Riddle has never envied Floyd. But by the end of their third year, he had something Riddle didn’t. 

He had you. 

How he managed to settle into a relationship when all he did was slack off, party, and break the rules was beyond Riddle. He was a slippery delinquent, hardly deserving of your sweet affections, and yet you looked at him like he was the only one on the planet. Just where was the appeal? His manner of dress is sloppy. The way he carries himself is unpalatable and crude. The way he acts suggests his insipience is incurable. Even when he applies himself, he is still Floyd and that doesn’t clean his slate or shine his reputation. So in Riddle’s discerning eyes, he does not possess a scintilla of romantic appeal.

You don’t seem to agree with these sentiments, for you’ve been with Floyd for four long years. 

Love is blinding, but Riddle has never been in love before and so she doesn’t have adequate data to prove this point. It was forbidden in her home. She’s only allowed to love the men her mother handpicks, plucking each specimen like they’re ripened strawberries from a bush. In the beginning she found all manner of minor details to excuse them from her life, insisting upon a nonexistent list of impossibly high standards. He was too tall. He was too forward with his interest. He wore contrasting colors. He didn’t like tea. These reasons were far too critical and childish, and each man had been sent away in a huff. Her mother would scold her, halving her with a nasty glare: “Are you planning to die alone?”

Yes, Riddle realized by the twentieth admonishment, yet another man cast aside. If dying alone means romantic freedom in life, I’ll do just that.

The elevator spits her out into the hall, which isn’t as silent as she thought it’d be. Bass shakes through the walls, reverberating all the way through her ribs as if it intends to stir up her organs. She catches her reflection in the windows, noting the dark, monstrous scowl, and smooths her face into something courageous. She means business as she clicks down the hall, preparing herself for the whirlwind that undoubtedly waits behind the door. Riddle starts to wonder how Floyd’s neighbors have yet to file a noise complaint and then stops, her thoughts cutting off abruptly. It’s a challenge to make complaints when your father holds parts of the city’s underground in his palms.

He’s got it easy, that spoiled pest. 

Riddle’s gait slows to a halt and she reaches out to knock thrice. The door is thrown open before she can even bring her fist down. Soon she’s staring at a rosy-cheeked stranger, whose eyes trace her figure like he’s trying to paint her on his mental canvas. She’s prepared for the worst, having tucked the spray in her bag, its container disguised to look like lipstick. The strawberry keychain hanging from her purse is a self-defense alarm, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice. His ogling does not frighten her, nor do his intentions, if he can even harbor any in that intoxicated brain of his. She’s braved scarier horrors. Like living out years of her life with her mother.

“Heyyy, you one of Floyd’s girls? Here for the party?”

Riddle suppresses the disgusted shiver threatening to crawl up her spine, swallowing bile. “Just the party.” 

She is no one’s girl. Definitely not Floyd’s. 

When she’s let inside and the stench of sweat and alcohol assault her nostrils, coupled with the too-loud party music, she considers retreating, her mother’s judgment echoing: You look ridiculous. Her fingers twitch towards her purse. One text and Trey would pick her up. One call and Cater would be on his way. But then she’d be forced to tell them the truth—would have to admit that she’s chasing the one person she can never have. 

She hardens her resolve, pushes through the throng of bodies in an effort to find refreshments, and there you are, her perfect, pretty wallflower in a perfect, pretty silver dress. The dim neon lighting casts you in a luscious pink haze, and she watches you scroll through your phone, your eyelids falling and opening. You’re so beautiful—the sweetest thing she’s ever seen, more saccharine than a truckload of strawberry tarts. Her hand slides away from her purse, and she tamps down a gleeful smile, stepping over to you with newfound confidence.

“(Name)?”

You turn your whole body towards her, your gaze unfocused. She can smell the liquor on you, can see the hickeys not quite covered by a velvet choker. Her gaze narrows. He’s all over you, isn’t he? From top to bottom, you are covered in traces of him. Her nose scrunches. Just what do you see in him?

It should be her teeth on your skin, tearing it open, bruising it, tasting slick copper on her tongue. It should have always been her, but it’s not. Why did you have to settle for less when you’re entitled to so much more?

You peer at her like she’s something in a museum, perplexing and abstract. And then it clicks. You gasp, your mouth falling open in awe, and your words come out horribly slurred. She fails to hide her wince when you throw your arms around her, hanging off of her like a tote on a shoulder.

“Riddle! You…seriously showed up… Can’t believe it’s really you. It feels like it’s been forever.” You pull away, swaying with the motion, and place your hands on her arms. “Your outfit is suuuper cute.”

She’s blushing. She knows she is because her face is burning with heat and suddenly it’s much too stifling in here. “Oh. Ah, um, t-thank you very much… You look very nice, too.”

Really? Is that the best thing I could say? ‘You look very nice’? Honestly, Riddle…

But you smile, and the sight steals her heart all over again. You can have it. By all means take her heart. Take it and love it to pieces. That way it will be fair when she takes yours. An even exchange in accordance with the rules of love. 

Or maybe it’s more so the rules of romantic warfare, carried out to the extreme on a chessboard. Or a croquet court. Something sporty and metaphorical, anyway.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, refusing to say his name lest she speak him into existence and tarnish her near-perfect evening.

Her question strikes a chord within you, and you heave an exaggerated sigh. You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall for support. “Left me to go hang with the guys. S’not fair!” you whine, sliding further down until you’re sitting in a defeated heap. 

Riddle bends down to your height, her tone as soft and sympathetic as her expression. “Does he always do this?”

Hurt flashes across your face, but you don’t say anything. So he does. Why is she not surprised?

Who in the world leaves their partner at a party, vulnerable and alone? Riddle thinks, anger flaring up in her chest. Someone could take advantage of you. You’re in no state to be standing here by yourself. That fool… He doesn’t know how to treat a lady at all. How have you put up with him for four years? Your patience amazes me.

“It’s not like…” You shut your eyes and rest your head against the wall. “Not like an always-happening thing…”

Riddle isn’t going to sugarcoat it. She wants her words to cut deep, all the way to the heart you’ve allowed Floyd to bind. “Whether or not he does it often, the fact still stands that he left you intoxicated in the corner of this room. That’s careless and unsafe.” She tilts her head, admiring the way you’ve done your makeup, the way your plush lips jut out in a miserable pout. And it just rushes out, words she’s thought but never had the courage to say. At least, not to the sober you. “I wouldn’t do that to you. You deserve so much better.”

Like me, she almost adds, but that’s too direct. And she’s not even sure the admission will land when you’re so out of it.

“Appreciate it…” You scrub your face, groaning. “Ugh. I feel sick…”

“Would you like to get some fresh air?” 

You shake your head, stubborn to a fault. “Can’t. Gotta wait for Floyd.”

Riddle frowns. “I highly doubt he’s coming back anytime soon.” 

“Still.”

“At the very least, let’s get you some water.” She offers her hand, hoping and praying to the heavens above that you’ll take it.

You do. It’s a flawless fit. Her heart flutters, weightless and feathery, when her fingers close around yours. She wonders what moisturizer you use, what sort of lotions kiss your skin. Are they scented, or is that just your perfume? Or have you done away with perfume for tonight and is that a natural fragrance? Or maybe it’s the sweet scent of a fruity wine, printed on your tongue like a delicious tattoo. 

She wants to kiss you. 

“Just how much have you had to drink?” 

“Like a cup or two? I…dunno. Does it matter?”

You stumble when she helps you up, grabbing at her shoulder for support. Riddle almost falls back, but the wall braces her. You place your palm right by her head, and suddenly you’re leaning in, inadvertently pinning her to the wall. Her pupils nearly eclipse her blue-grey irises, and her breath sticks in her throat. Oh, you’re so close. You’re a drunken mess, pushing yourself up against her, your beauty enveloping her like a chrysalis. If this is a dream, she never wants to wake, for the world that awaits her beyond this is cold and colorless. 

Your head lowers to the dip between shoulder and neck, and she gazes heavenward. The ceiling is much nicer at this moment, if only so she can clear her own heady haze of impure thoughts. 

There are people about, she has to remind herself, shaking off the urge to close her fingers around your chin and tilt your head up to meet her mouth. And she has a boyfriend. Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.

But the chance is much too beguiling. You’re right here, quite literally within her reach, and Floyd’s nowhere in sight. It’s too perfect. She can’t quite wrap you in an affectionate embrace—though that is an irresistible urge she must fight off—so she settles to rub circles into your back instead, dutifully reflecting the role of a concerned friend. It’s not the part she wishes to play. Rather, she’d gladly take on the title of boyfriend if it meant you’d feel loved. Every day, at every hour, for the rest of your life. She’d do all the things Floyd ought to do: care for you, appreciate you, protect you, stay by your side through thick and thin. 

Love is a dangerous, thorny thing, but it’s the encroaching jealousy that kills. 

Floyd doesn’t deserve you. If anything, he deserves a mouth full of soap to scrub every profanity he’s ever uttered. Just what does he tell you in bed? That you’re a good girl? That you’re soooo tight? That you can take it? Does he know which ways you like it? Does he know where to touch so you’ll unravel faster? Does he know how to get you properly, thoroughly worked up, so much so that it feels like your skin is aflame with potent want and desire? 

Does he even know your anatomy, or are you simply a body for his avaricious appetite? 

Like roses twining possessively around a trellis, Riddle holds you close in her arms, her hand sweeping across your lower back. Her glacial eyes scan the crowd, warding off anyone who may be curious with her most malevolent death stare. 

“Mm… I need to lie down. My head is…spinning…”

With that, the murderous, overprotective haze sticking to Riddle like a poisonous fog dissipates. A sickly sweet smile widens on ruby-red lips. “Let’s find someplace quiet.”

Together, the two of you stagger-walk out of the room, leaving the party and its inhabitants behind. Crossing through the attached kitchenette, Riddle pilfers a bottled water from the fridge.

Her mind is sharp as a cut diamond. Her skin prickles with anticipation.

Down the hall you go, with Riddle supporting you with what minimal physical strength she has. A door looms before the both of you, cast in a comfortable glow from a neighboring skyscraper, and you struggle to pull your heels off while she pushes the door open. It reveals a messy room, clothing and candy wrappers strewn about sloppily. 

Riddle feels like she’s on top of the world, and she is. Up in the clouds on the forty-third floor of this luxurious penthouse apartment. 

ii. i could be a better boyfriend than him. i could do the shit that he never did. up all night, i won’t quit. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle pined. Hopelessly. Forlornly. Desperately.

Hungrily. 

It was unbecoming to want something to such an obsessive degree. She buried herself in her studies to do away with lustful delusions, each more distracting than the last. But then you would crop up in her life when she least expected it and soon the two of you were studying together. Soon you were visiting her dorm to watch movies during the times in which she allowed herself the break (and she only did so because it was you). Soon you were spending nights in her room, sleeping sprawled on the floor even though she offered her bed time and time again. You’d get ready in the mornings, debating what the breakfast menu would entail. She’d watch your reflection in the floor mirror as you pulled your shirt up and over your head, eyeing the way you slid seamlessly into a lacy black bra. And then she’d change out of her nightgown, and you’d comment on her undergarments. 

“We should go shopping sometime. You gotta get cuter stuff!”

“Why should I? No one’s going to see it,” she insisted with a flustered huff.

“I’ll see it the next time I sleep over,” you told her, smiling innocently as you stepped into a blue handkerchief skirt. “Besides, there are so many cute sets you could wear. You’d look so pretty in something red and frilly. You’re totally missing out.”

Riddle considered it back then. Your eager eyes had almost won her over, but she was firm in her decision. “I’m fine with what I have now.” 

And the conversation ended there. She really wishes you would have pushed it back then because just a little nudge in that direction and she would have given in, entirely at your mercy. 

Selfishly, she just yearned to be stuck in a changing stall with you. 

All throughout her undergraduate, Riddle fostered a special sort of friendship with you. You’d stop by her dorm during finals to insist she take a break, your offer too tempting. She’s always been weak to sweets. You were close enough to exchange intimate details with one another. She listened to all of your dating woes, and conversely you’d sit still and bear witness to her ramblings about fascinating law facts. Sometimes she’d rant about her mother. You always listened. “She sounds like she sucks,” you said once. “How are you even related to her? You’re so nice.”

It was a pleasant three years. If she deluded herself enough, she could have pretended you were her girlfriend and then she’d have something to tell her mother to put an end to the countless attempts at scoring her a husband. I will never marry any of your options, she would think, playing the confrontation out in her head. I have a partner now and we’re very happy together. Sometimes Riddle imagined her mother tossing darts at a board with photographs of men attached to it, disregarding compatibility altogether in favor of upholding traditional rules. But then Riddle realized she’d have to die before she could ever admit her own romantic freedoms to her mother, and so that conversation only ever came about in daydreams. 

I’d rather die alone than live life shackled in a loveless marriage. She wonders if her father thought the same.

Those three years had been a wonderful reality, filled with sugared, candy-coated love. A one-sided love, sure. But Riddle could settle for platonic affections, for that was just as sweet.

And then he arrived at the doorstep to Riddle’s fantasy cottage, kicking the walls down and sweeping you off your feet.

Floyd Leech has always been a nuisance. You were there to shoo him away every time he came knocking, all broad grins and vexatious jeers. He listened to you most days, a mutt without proper leashing, oddly loyal to you. As if you were his keeper of sorts. Riddle was amazed, befuddled, and worried all at once. Unlike her, you could keep your cool, could still smile so kindly even when Floyd was being an utter pain in the ass with his foolish nicknames. When he tried to pluck Riddle’s hairpin from out of her braids—a handmade gift you had given her for her birthday—she slapped him hard across the face and hissed, “Don’t ever put your filthy paws on me again.”

And maybe it was because you were there that she was able to recover shortly after the outburst. (Although she still meant that slap with every fiber of her being.) Maybe you were her collar. Maybe you were her keeper. Maybe she was meant to meet you so that you could color her world, lead her along into the friendship she’d been robbed of as a child. 

Looking back, Riddle realizes that was the catalyst. Because when Floyd cradled his bright-red cheek, giggling like a maniac, you asked him, “Don’t you have anything better to do? Can’t you bother someone else?”

And then you were made the prime target. 

What’s worse is that you reveled in it, adored every ounce of attention Floyd gave you like it was something holy, later admitting to Riddle during a movie marathon that you “wondered if Floyd was seeing anyone.” She wanted to retch. You, a seraph incarnate, with a devil like Floyd? Impossible. But your tone was so whimsical; you were dreaming of it. You liked him. 

She couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it.

By the end of her third year, just as finals gave way to summer, you threw your arms around Floyd’s neck while he pressed you up against the trunk of a flowering tree. Pink petals fluttered to the ground, and with the falling blossoms came Riddle’s hope, crashing and burning in a heartbroken heap. 

She won’t make the same mistake twice, which is precisely why, when you flop onto Floyd’s unmade bed, she turns the lock to keep all outside influences away. The party is but a mere muffle now, thrumming through the floorboards with reckless abandon.

Her nose wrinkles at the pile of dirty laundry. Slob, she thinks, brimming with hate. What does she see in you? You’re a mess, you’re definitely a criminal, you can’t keep a stable job, you throw obnoxious parties every other week, you leave your own girlfriend unattended… What part of that is appealing? She gazes at you next. You’re too good for him, (Name). You can do so much better. Raise your standards. Find someone respectable and attentive. Someone who’ll stay with you forever. Someone who won’t let you get stupidly drunk and then run off to Queen-knows-where.

“Someone like me,” she mutters.

You have to be coerced into drinking, and you’re so sleepy that the water dribbles down your chin. Riddle tuts at you, swiping the liquid away with her sleeve. 

“You’re a mess,” she says, affectionate despite the barb. 

You’re my mess.

She slides your heels off, casting them elsewhere. You look like a starfish when you lay sprawled, or maybe you’re more like a snow angel. Only rather than snow, you imprint yourself amongst wrinkled sheets. Riddle knows it’s wrong, but you’re right here. She’s waited so many years for a moment like this one.

It’s not fair. 

She unzips her boots, kicks them off, and stands at the edge of the bed, locked in a fierce debate. You should have thrown your arms around her that day. You should have kissed her, should have spent the last four years with her, should have stayed in her life like the permanent fixture you were destined to be. She’s never wanted anything more than this. Not even a surplus of strawberry tarts. Not even the dreams she’s working tirelessly towards achieving. She’s only ever wanted you. 

But Floyd took you away, and her world has never been the same since. 

The mattress dips under her weight; she’s made up her mind. 

“Do you remember the promise we made?” she whispers, running her hands up your legs. You lift your head to look at her, eyes glassy with inebriated exhaustion. “The one in which we’d live together after graduation? You said you’d want to live somewhere pet-friendly so we could get hedgehogs and name them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

You hum, your lashes fluttering. 

“We could still do that. Just you and me. Without your boyfriend.”

“What?”

Her fingers catch on the waistband of your panties. “Hm?” 

“Mm, no, nothing… You should get going. It’s late…” “Someone has to look after you.”

“Floyd can.”

She presses her thumbs into your hips and the tiniest gasp leaves your parted lips. “But Floyd’s not.”

“He will.”

“He won’t,” she snaps. Something flickers in your eyes, a flash of unrest. Riddle chews her lower lip. “He’s… (Name), what do you see in him? Honestly, truly, what is it? Please educate me. Please… What does he have that I don’t? What makes you stay?”

“Cuz he’s my boyfriend,” you mutter slowly, perplexed, “and I love him.”

“Do you?” 

“Riddle, why are you so…” The words fizzle out on your tongue when her touch strays too close to home. “Wait… We can’t… Not in here.”

“Why not? It’s just one more mess. He won’t even notice.”

“That’s not it… Riddle, wait. I… I don’t like you in that—”

She collapses, anchoring herself to you, her manicured nails digging deep into your arms. And then her mouth is on yours, clumsy and uncoordinated. She doesn’t want to hear it—can’t bear to hear it. She knows the truth. It’s haunted her from the day she met you, a shadow looming like a guillotine’s blade. You were fated to be forever out of reach. Just like those strawberry tarts in the bakery window. The kiss is filthy, all desire and zero skill. Her tongue flashes into your mouth. It’s nothing like the way they describe it in fiction or portray it in films. It’s obscene. Sinful. Libidinous. Her lipstick smears; she tastes the wine in your throat, licks your teeth and nibbles your lip, delicate and gruesome all at once. She tries her best, unyielding. 

The technique doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. It’s just blind, unrequited passion. She’ll learn it eventually and when she does she’ll kiss you drunk. It’s just another thing she’ll master. And she will because that’s just who she is. Give her a textbook and she’ll have it memorized. Give her a kiss and she’ll return to practice it to perfection. 

She pulls away, panting, her lipstick in disarray. It’s all over you, smudging on the corners of your mouth. Running a hand through her hair, her figure outlined in the tantalizing glow from the city lights, she licks her lips. 

“Riddle…” 

Spoken soft like prayer, it’s a whisper she’ll treasure. Over and over, without end, repeat it like a mantra. 

“Riddle, please…”

“He doesn’t know anything about your preferences, does he?” Your dress is slid up next. She traces a heart into your bare stomach, capturing your navel in invisible lines. You shudder under her touch, grabbing at her wrist with a limp hand. She brings it up to her lips and presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “I know you much better than he does. I always have.”

To prove it, she presses two fingers to your clothed pussy. You whine, reedy and high-pitched. “But…”

“I read it takes fourteen minutes for women to reach their end during partnered sex.” She levels you with a half-lidded stare, smirking. What she lacks in skill, she makes up for in raw confidence. “I’ll only need less than that, so you won’t have to feign anything for my sake. I know you well enough, my rose.”

A wide range of emotions waltzes across your countenance. Your arm falls over your face next. It’s defeat or hesitant acceptance, but to Riddle it’s love. 

“Ten minutes,” you whisper, conceding. “And then…you need to leave.”

She makes you cum in just five, covers you in lipstick prints, each kiss a sly cover-up. Floyd may be all over you, bites and bruises blooming new and old, but he’s not inside you, wringing you out like a sodden towel. You sob like you’re in heat when she sinks her fingers into your slick warmth, scissoring so slowly, until you’re begging her to make you cum again. Your fluids soak through the sheets. The scent of sex and sweat hangs heavy in the air. She’s alive, wildly untamed, a knight who’s just rescued the princess and slayed a bloodthirsty dragon. 

Her head is between your thighs next, her hands braced on either leg to keep them apart. You watch her with glazed eyes, soon throwing your head back when she slides your hood up to reveal your pretty, pert clit. Experimentally, she licks a teasing stripe up your slit. You shiver and dig your fingers into her scalp, imprisoning her there. It’s where she’s always wanted to be. 

“Tell me,” she murmurs, the words fanning across your pussy, “if he’s so good, why haven’t you proven it? Is this the most you’ve ever cum in a night? Does he please you or do you please him? If he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, why are you still so unsatisfied?” 

“Because… B-Because!”

Your protests are fragmented and spotted with gasps. That’s arguably more telling than a detailed response. 

Riddle smiles like a Cheshire, her eyes narrowed victoriously. Spidery digits creep along your thighs. Her thumbs dip into your pussy, spreading it wide for her viewing pleasure. “Don’t think of him. Tonight, it’s just you and me. I’ll give you what you’re owed. That and so much more.”

Like a fragile statue, you topple. Right into her, bucking against her mouth like the world is ending, and she’s there to steady you.

She always is.

iii. i’m gonna steal you from him. i could be such a gentleman. plus, you know my clothes would fit.

“Sooo… Gimme the goss. How was your night out?”

Riddle looks up from an assortment of nail polish colors, each one more red than the last, and says, “It was more enjoyable than I thought.”

“Yeah?” Cater prompts, brows raised. “Don’t be so vague! I wanna know all the juicy details. It’s rare for you to stay out so late. And to go to a party, of all things, in the city? Hello?! New Riddle, who’s this?” 

“I was only meeting an old friend.”

“That’s what they all say.”

The technician asks her to pick a color. “This one,” she says, pointing. “The one named Sanguine Sunrise.” 

“You’re totes keeping me in the dark!” Cater whines, dramatic. “At least give Cay-Cay some hints! Something! Anything! Spare change, please?”

Riddle smiles smugly. Pride drips from every syllable when she speaks next. “My friend will be spending this Valentine’s Day alone.”

“Bummer.”

“Not quite. She’ll have me and half-priced chocolates. A rather charming combination, no?”

Cater laughs. “GL. I’m rooting for you.”

You don’t need to, she thinks, tracing the love bite stamped into her skin, hidden under the soft fabric of her blouse. Because I’m already winning.

Her phone buzzes with a text: about last night… if i did anything weird, i’m so sorry. i was way too drunk. 

Riddle turns it over, dips her feet in the heated water, and settles into the massage chair, pleased as a peach. “It was one bad decision. Four years of bad decisions, but it’s forgiven. We all make silly mistakes when we’re lovestruck. Hopefully her silly mistake disappears for good and we never have to speak of him again.”

“You’re so scary, Riddle. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

Another message arrives: i think we might’ve kissed last night. i’m really super sorry.

There’s a brief delay.

ok this is gonna sound weird coming from me but maybe we can do it again??? floyd’s kisses are sorta… :/ 

Her phone vibrates for the final time that afternoon.

actually i’m just gonna stop talking omg i’m crazy. i have a bf and everything. sorry riddle please ignore all of this kk tysm ttyl <3

wait one more text before i forget,, if you wanna meet up for tea i wouldn’t mind. we should definitely catch up when i’m not hungover. kk bye fr this time <3

A start is a start. You can’t grow a rose tree without first planting a seed.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere riddle rosehearts x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle #yandere riddle x reader #n/sfw #tw: dubcon

[alevicke]

Hii!! I saw requests were open!! I was wondering, if you write for trickster, could you write some headcanons of trickster with a survivor s/o who’s very clingy and cuddly and wants constant cuddles from him? Like she’d even go up to him during a trial and beg him to cuddle with her.

Hi! Thank you for requesting, it's actually the first time in my life someone requests something ^^ i hope you don't mind that I added The Huntress and The Spirit as well because I'm weak for them 💖 I'll use gn reader! Hope you like it 💖

Killer x clingy!reader

Characters: Trickster, The Huntress and The Spirit

No TWs! Or if you think something should be mentioned let me know. Also sorry for the mistakes, English isn't my native language and I have no one to proof read this D:

Trickster:

For this man it really depends how much you know each other or if you're already together (just as with anyone else in reality)

To be fair, he's famous and handsome. He knows already people want to cuddle him, he's well used to crazy fan girls who could do ANYTHING to even get close to him. Cuddling is a FANTASY for them.

But so is for you. Although you see more than the others. When the others think about Trickster they think about the softness of his skin, the sweet voice whispering in their ears, the fingers along their skin... But that's about it, they only see a pretty face to cling onto, a trophy and Trickster knows that

But he always felt something different from you

You didn't look at him like a crazy fangirl who would rip his fingers just to have something from him closer. You were seeing more from him

At first, he would shrug, laugh at you and keep you away using his bat like a long twig to keep the distance. No touchy for people he doesn't know. You could have your fingers dirty with oil from the generators and ruin his amazing skin routine that takes so much time to do

You get closer to him to hug him in a trial? Oh heck no (not yet)

But as time passes and you keep wanting to stay by his side even when he doesn't allow you to touch him, he starts to slowly allow you closer. It's not like suddenly, one day, he will let you hug him, but will slowly allow you to sit closer, some days he will let you grab his hand so you can see his new nail polish, to see his make up that turned amazing today...

And day by day you realize he's way more comfortable around you until he finally wraps his arm around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle in his chest.

He's warm and sweet once he finally trusts you, he's careful not to mess with your hair and he touches you so gently as if he was scared he could break you

He will start allowing you to hug him, he doesn't mind you doing it if it's not getting in the middle of his routines or similar or if it's a situation when no one can be in danger. He would never forgive himself if you get hurt trying to hug him in a trial or similar so he sets that strict rule. But once everyone is dead in the trial? You're more than welcome between his arms. He's just scared of hurting you. He truly wants to hug you in the trial but it's impossible to do it without it being dangerous for both of you.

Although, he often allows you to be the last survivor so you both can cuddle while he finishes off one of your team mates down

When you hug him he specially loves having your hair closer to him. No matter if it's curly, straight, short, long, blonde, brunettte, black or dyed, he likes your hair a lot and the sweet smell of it.

It's not unusual for him to fall asleep cuddling with you once you both are used to this. He likes to be the big spoon but doesn't mind being the small one every now and then

It takes him more time for him to allow you to pet his hair though. He's still over protective of his hairstyle

THE HUNTRESS:

She's so confused the first time you try to hug her. It doesn't happen out of the blue or else she would completely kill you for touching her when she didn't want to and could only see you as a survivor, but it's still strange

She had a really hard trial. Every now and then, Anna cannot help but let the feelings overwhelm her. She lost her mother long ago and has been alone on her own for so long and while she is strong, god knows that, she is sometimes that scared child that wishes to be hold by someone. It doesn't matter how many muscles she has, it doesn't matter how strong she is nor how tall she is compared to the others. She still has a sweet heart and love to give inside but doesn't know how to

And after a really hard trial with everyone flashing her, breaking pallets in her back even several times, you found her sitting on the ground.

It seemed like the rest had already given up from annoying tf out of her and already escaped. They stole all they could from the map and after basically emptying the flashlight batteries on her, there was nothing else fun to do there, more taking in mind that Anna seemed to had given up

You have been there against her in a few trials already. That wasn't normal. She was always so strong and amazing! You always admired it. Her figure, her muscles and her strength to carry on. Deep down you just wanted to hold onto those muscles and cuddle against her

But you found a defeated Anna and... You still wanted to cuddle her, but in a bit different way

Anna barely looked up when she heard your footsteps. She thought one of the survivors didn't had enough yet. But she was surprised to see you, softly tilting her head. She thought you would have escaped like the others. You were always nice. But you were there still. Did you want to laugh at her as well?

Her jaw almost drops when you lean down to her figure and hug her. You can feel her muscles tense and for a moment you feel scared you fcked up and she would kill you. But you slowly felt her body relax under your embrace

She took you in her arms, sat you on her lap and covered your figure in her embrace. You felt happy you were finally able to get close to the giant woman and she felt happy she finally had someone to hug. Your embrace meant the world to her in that moment

From that time, things between you were different. She was never too hard against you in trials because you weren't mean, but since then, she was always missing shots with you. Oops, she was clumsy that day, haha, right? Oh shit there goes Nea's head, that was so accurate

But no axe against your skin

She loved having you around, feeling your arms trying to embrace her large figure. You could feel her chest puff as she would laugh whenever you tried your best to completely hug her but couldn't.

She had no restrictions. You could hug her whenever and however you wanted. But PLEASE, be careful with her axes! Those are extremely sharp!

Everytime you hugged her and tried to cling onto her, if you are ok, she would happily hold you in her arms and put you on her shoulders. Sometimes she would pick you up bridal style and bring you everywhere until she finds a nice spot to cuddle with you

For quite some time she isn't comfortable taking her mask off. But if you give her enough time and don't pressure her, she will eventually take it off to snuggle with you. She loves pressing her face against you, to feel your warmth and see that she isn't alone anymore

THE SPIRIT

What? You wanted to hug her? Why? Her whole body is covered by broken glass!

She doesn't trust you the first times you try to get close to her. She will always attack, hiss you and push you away. She doesn't want you any closer to her. She has the feeling you're trying a weird trick on her to hurt her. She doesn't know what, but she is so sure no one would want to be closer to her. At least not for something good

But she starts to see little by little that you aren't hurting her and you're being pretty gentle with her. As gentle as you can actually be against a killer trying to kill you. But you seemed sad to have to break pallets on her back and you hissed in pain when you could see the pieces of glass get deeper in her skin with each hit. Like... You felt empathy for her?

She had so many mixed feelings from that. She knew you wanted to get close to her, she knew you weren't hurting her. But she didn't know why? She couldn't understand that someone could appreciate her enough to get closer due to what she went through and what her body had

She doesn't really speak your language so she doesn't even know how to ask you what do you want or what your intentions are. But you realize that every attempt you make to get closer to her is slowly being a bit more succesful than the previous one

Oh, don't think it's gonna take you just a few, no. It's gonna take you probably a lot more than a month or even a few months for her to finally trust you to get closer to her. But patience is the key with her. She has suffered so much even from people closer to her she has struggles trusting

The first time you try to reach her hand, she struggles to keep her physical form. She "glitches" trying to process your action but doesn't move away until you finally grab her hand, carefully, softly. Your thumb caress her cold skin and she barely moves. She's speechless, but feeling someone elses' touch is like a dream for her

She almost melts in your touch, if it wasn't because she can't...

She is ok with you holding her hand pretty often, but the attemps to hug her are way harder. Is not like she doesn't trust you, the opposite, she trusts you and doesn't want to hurt you

Trust me when I say she wishes with her whole soul to hug you and get some comfort cuddling with you, but she is so SCARED to hurt you. It doesn't matter how many times you tell her it's ok because you have medkits and nothing can really go THAT bad down the entitie's eyes. She won't allow a survivor to die outside a trial. But she's still is scared to hurt you

Although, you end up managing to find the best spots to hug her avoiding all her pieces of glass. It's a work between you both but you find several cuddling poses that keep your arms and hands and even your body away from the sharp edges

True, every now and then you hiss in pain feeling a cut. And she still tries to run away when she realizes she has hurt you. But you still manage to calm her down and keep her on your side

She learnt to take care of your wounds in the most soft possible way so cuddles become way more frequent. She's so in love with your hugs !

#x reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #huntress x reader #spirit x reader #trickster x reader

[sarahkrolokfan]

I hate fanon-ization of Lily, James, Regulus and Barty (Evan, Dorcas, Marlene etc. are literally only mentioned in the books, there is nothing to mis-characterize)

Lily is side-lined for a non-existent, non-sensical ship (yeah, I hate jegulus), her Muggle origin is overlooked even though it played a MAJOR role in her life (heck the entire Marauders era takes place during the war against a wizard-supremacist, Muggle-hater and his racist followers). Her relationship with Snape and how his words and newly found ideologies affected is completely overlooked when he was her only magical friend during her entire childhood. Her relationship to her son? (yk, that one thing that set the entire series in motion...) - pfft, don't be silly, she is just a surrogate to James and Regulus.

James is portrayed as a ray of sunshine, good boy whose biggest sin was being a bit sarcastic. No, he WAS an arrogant asshole who mercilessly bullied another student simply for his own enjoyment. Yet he was also incredibly loyal man who didn't hesitate to share his home with his friend after he ran away from home and who grew out of his arrogant phase and changed himself for better because of a woman he loved (loved so much he died protecting her and their son later).

Regulus is portrayed as an edgy yet kind-hearted little aristocrat boy whose parents forced him into being a Death Eater - no, he wasn't pressured into becoming anything, Regulus for the longest part of his life WAS a Voldemort supporter. He collected newspaper articles about Voldemort, he talked to Kreacher about how great Voldemort is and how great his ideas were - yes, he realized later he was wrong but it doesn't suddenly mean he was pressured into anything.

Barty is portrayed as a silly little babygirl who has an IQ of goldfish. No, he was one of the smartest characters with multiple talents but was also a mentaly-unstable young man (Azkaban/Dementors have horrific influence on everyone but while other Death Eaters managed to last 10+ years there he was already on his death-bed in a year and started to scream for him mother the same day he was brought in) who went completely insane and evil by the end and craved for father figure so deeply he was ready to become a murderer/torturer to get one. His manipulativeness and sadism? Non-existent in fanon...

In the end... I truly dislike the overall state of "Marauders era" fandom - like, they are a generation impacted by war and ever-changing politics who essentially needed to choose a side while they were still children, some betraying their families and loved ones - and then you try seeing stuff in Marauders fandom and they are turned into edgy teens who all wear crop-tops and black nail polish, listen to Taylor, go to Starbucks and talk in a Tik-Tok slang....

#harry potter #marauders #lily potter #james potter #regulus black #barty crouch jr #anti jegulus #jilly #I actually truly love Regulus and Barty #(especially Barty) #But I truly hate their fanon characterisation

[killedpink]

[22:17]

thinking about minho is never healthy

🏷 contains: dom minho x sub reader, makeup application, fingering, heavy hand kink (have you seen that man's hands?), dacryphilia, oral sex, so so so domestic, hair pulling, slight marking, small minuscule spit kink, snow day, deepthroating/throatfucking, possessive minho if u look closely, cum consumption, slight praise

the grip the snow had on the land was tightening, the earth slowly being obscured by a freezing, white blanket of snow. it made everyone stop. work, school, all of it was paused as the roads grew too dangerous to travel on. this included you and minho, safely tucked away at home with every heater on max, candles lit, windows blacked out. at first, it felt like a well-deserved break from your busy lives, giving you both all the time you needed to sleep in, or binge watch whatever tv show you just couldn't find the time to finish, or even try out that new dish you both have been putting off. but, after a few hours in, you had exhausted every one of your plans, burnt through every show and every recipe in your cookbook. you felt defeated, truly. your back to the couch, facing the ceiling with your eyes closed, it all felt so bleak. and to make things worse, minho was out of sight, pattering around upstairs for some unknown minho reason.

"get up, lazy." minho nudged your arm that was dangling off the side of the couch with his socked foot, causing you to jerk it into your lap and spring up. you intended to tease him for bothering you, but once you saw him, your words fell into nothingness. "is that my makeup..?" your brows scrunched in confusion, a delighted twinkle in your eyes. minho rolled his eyes, "wow, your eyesight is working! move up." doing as he said, you turned your body to face the tv and sit like a normal person, giving minho the room he needed to sit down and more. "are you finally letting me put makeup on you?" his face turned blank at this. "no." he turned away from you, plucking a black nail polish from the bag he brought with him. "i'm letting you paint my nails." minho bargained, thrusting the bottle into your lap.

it wasn't exactly what you hoped for, but at least it was something. you shrugged, "is this the colour you want?" you shook the bottle to mix the solution into itself. minho's eyes followed the bottle, "yeah, it's the nicest one you have." you gasped, "how rude!" you cradled your heart in faux offence. "neon green wasn't to your liking?" you teased. minho resisted his smile, yet he simply couldn't fight it off, his pink lips curving into a grin and his front teeth showing slightly, not unlike a rabbit's teeth. "that was such a bad joke. we need to socialise you fast." it was your turn to roll your eyes, before twisting the cap, snatching minho's hand and bringing the brush to his fingernail. "don't get it on my hands." he warned. you scoffed, "do i look like an amateur to you? no? then keep your mouth shut." minho's jaw dropped. "as soon as i'm free im gonna throw you out in the cold." he threatened. you giggled quietly, "remind me who's in control of your nails again?"

the banter went back and forth for a while, all in good faith. "is it dry now?" minho asked, taking good care not to smudge his nails and therefore tarnish your hard work. "i think so. it looks fine." you said into your mug of hot chocolate, taking a slow sip. "ah, me too!" minho perked up. "i really think you can do this yourself. you're just lazy." you muttered as you held minho's mug to his lips, taking good care not to pour too much into his mouth. "but you still do it for me," minho swooned, once you brought the mug back onto the coffee table. "so, how does it look?" he held both his hands up to face you, showing off his nails. "you actually look really good," you took one of his hands to inspect it, his veins not going unappreciated by your attentive eyes. your gawking didn't go unnoticed by minho, either. "wanna see what else i brought?"

minho took out your favourite lipstick and mascara from behind him, holding one in each hand. "do you trust me?" he spoke seriously, his face saying otherwise however. your eyes widened, "you're so nice to me today!" your hands held his wrists, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek. his ears swelled red in response, his smile so wide it reached his sweet chestnut eyes, which were always beautifully inquisitive. "well, i do love you." minho's voice was small, whispering it into your hair, believing the quieter the more intimate it was. it was snowing harder, now, the force of the frozen rain slamming on your windows ungracefully.

snuggling into his warm, mellow middle made you grow tired, even if you weren't actually sleepy. tearing yourself away from his black hoodie that radiated a comfortably high heat, you tilted your head up slightly to face him. "make me pretty, minho," you spoke dramatically, looking up at minho through your lashes. "you're already pretty." he kissed your forehead, unscrewing the applicator from the mascara. "look up for me, baby," doing as you were told, minho got to work on your bottom lashes, becoming more pronounced as he swiped the brush onto your eyelashes, taking good care not to accidentally hit your eye. "how's it looking?" you asked, barely being able to see what was going on as your vision was focused on the ceiling, showing off only your sclera to minho. "sh, you'll distract me and i'll blind you. the ambulance would take forever to get here in all this snow, too." how imaginative.

"i'm done. take a look, you don't look so ugly now." to be fair, he didn't do a bad job. he didn't let your lashes stick together, separating them individually to give off a dollish effect, your eyes now looking bigger and your dark, long top lashes kissing your brow bone as they curled up, giving you an innocent, doe-eyed look. setting the mirror onto the table, you turned to face minho, "you actually did a good job, minho," he beamed at this, "i've watched you too many times." he muttered, plucking your lipstick from the table. "is that next?" you asked, interested in his plan. he uncapped it, and kept eye contact with you while he applied it to his own lips. confused, you watched him carefully, without exchanging words.

he took your face in both of his freshly panted hands, and pressed his lips against yours. he was firm, but so passionate that it trickled into you, kissing him back excitedly. although they were the same lips, minho never kissed you the same way twice with them, each kiss unique and each kiss as addictive as the former. he broke the kiss, eyes inspecting your lips meticulously. you realised what minho was trying to do — stain your lips with the lipstick he was wearing. he pecked your lips a few times, essentially slamming his lips onto yours. once they were saturated to his liking, minho rubbed off what little product was left on him using a makeup wipe, rubbing it back and forth on his lips to clean them. "that was strangely possessive," you noted, amused. cupping your chin, minho looked you in the eyes as he shook his head, "it looks better that way. trust me."

"hm, whatever you say." you muttered before leaning into minho, meeting his lips with your own, your hands cupping his cheeks. the pink, soft swell of his lips are, of course, pressed hot to your own. the space between you was nonexistent, your legs straddling minho's lap as he leaned against the edge of the couch, his hands on your waist creeping up under your shirt. your underwear grew uncomfortable around your body, rolling your hips onto the curve of his muscular thigh, moaning into the kiss as you caught your clit on his clothed thigh. minho parted his lips, his tongue peeking out of his mouth to prod at your tongue, sucking the muscle into his hot mouth, letting it go and flattening his tongue, affectionately licking yours.

using your shirt, he scrunched the material in his hands and tugged it away from him, urging you to pull back. "strip for me." he ordered, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. you knew better than to argue with minho, and besides that; you wanted him, too. your shirt was gone in a matter of seconds, your sweatpants a little more time-consuming, but it didn't take much effort to get rid of them, too. all the while, minho watched you, not even needing his concentration to rip off his hoodie, ruffling his dark brown hair in the process, falling to both sides of his face as if he had curtain bangs, just barely touching the lobes of his pierced ears.

using the back of his hand, he stroked your soft, fleshy thigh, leaving soft kisses along your jaw; his hand pulling down your underwear — sinking his teeth into your neck. not enough to break your skin, but harsh enough that it'll have a bruise blooming before he gets to fuck you properly. he kisses your throat like he's trying to pierce it, making you dizzy from the brief lack of oxygen. your back is embraced by the couch seats, minho leaning above you, in between your bare legs. his veiny hands stroked your sides, following the curve of your waist, cupping your breasts and leaving a long lick straight down the middle, following the natural valley between them. his knee pressed against the pocket of fat above your cunt, stopping you from squirming. minho's hair brushed against your collarbones, tickling your skin as he feverishly nipped your skin, venturing down by your pubic bone.

"i see the way you look at my hands, baby." minho spoke slowly, his voice hypnotically low. one of his hands brushed against your sex, his fingers tracing your slit at a feather-light pressure, just barely touching you. he chuckled when your hips involuntarily bucked, chasing his touch. "please, minho. please, just touch me," you whispered, face buried into the crook of your arm, unable to look at him when you were so flustered. "oh, don't worry. i will.." he kissed the side of your thigh, "eventually." he added, feeling his smirk against your inner thigh was dizzyingly torturous. both of his arms were now between your head, elbows digging into the surface below, his knee once again pressed firmly against your cunt. minho moved your arm from your face, his grip firm. "open your mouth, darling." his index finger tapped your lips, which parted without argument, your eyes watching him curiously. his index and middle fingers slotted into your mouth, stroking your soft tongue. you could just about feel the veins lying under his skin, curling and uncurling his fingers, your tongue brushing against his smooth, black nails. your spit pooled in your mouth, having to swallow excessively to ensure it didn't spill out the sides of your mouth. minho's fingers burned inside of your hot mouth, his cooler fingers quickly warming up as you suckled obediently onto his fingers.

minho pulled them out, a string of your spit connecting to your mouth, before snapping from the stretch and falling onto your bottom lip. your breath hitched once you saw minho put his fingers in his own mouth, his pink lips wrapping around the base of his fingers, cheeks hollowing as he sucked them clean of your spit, letting them fall out of his mouth. "minho, can i suck you off? please? wanna make you feel good," your voice was tremulously light. minho grinned proudly at you, "my pretty girl. how kind of you." he kissed your lips, "tell you what. i'll fuck your throat for five minutes, hm?" you nodded desperately, eager to please him. minho lifted himself off of you, no longer caging you in, allowing you to move onto the floor where you sat with your thighs pressed together a little too tightly — the outside of your calves holding your weight as they relaxed on the floor.

he was still in his boxers, the last piece of clothing to be removed from his body. you leaned your cheek against his knee, admiring him dutifully. he looked so good in black it was a shame to remove them, the elastic clinging to his hips, showing off his v-line, and the unmissably huge tent due to the bulge of his cock, which always made you drool. you helped minho shrug them off, throwing them behind the couch to join wherever the rest of your clothes went. you exposed the flat of your tongue to latch onto the underside of his heavy cock. ever so eager to taste more of him, your tongue licked from the middle of his cock to the tip, pulling him almost entirely out of your warm mouth, flicking the tip of your tongue onto the slit of his head, spreading your spit onto his cock, and in exchange tasting the precum that you quickly collected into your mouth, moaning at the taste. your lips were a puffy, glossy ring around his cock, sliding him further into your wet mouth, his head rolling on your tongue as you bobbed on his cock vigorously.

minho's hands threaded into your hair, using the handfuls of your soft hair as a handle, tugging at the roots so harshly it stung, his fists balled up tightly as he guided your head along the length of his cock, giving a quiet moan in encouragement. your eyes wandered to his muscular body, each muscle growing more defined as he tensed and trembled from your actions. he was hard in your mouth, pushing more of his cock into your mouth, until your nose bumped against his pelvis, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, his head pressed so snugly inside the channel of your throat, brushing against your larynx, bruising the back of your throat and leaving a noticeable bulge in your neck where his cock was settled under, stuffing your mouth with the better half of nearly an entire foot of his cock. you didn't realise your eyes were swelling with tears until they quickly started trickling down your face, taking some of your mascara with it, smearing your under-eyes with a sheen of ebony black, your face resembling spilled ink, unintentionally sobbing on minho's filling cock.

you were grateful when minho tore your mouth away from his pubic bone, leaving an arch of lipstick from where your top lip had unintentionally kissed his pubic bone from being so full of his cock. the head of minho's cock pressed into the flesh of your cheek, swelling from the outside consequently, a rounded lump prodding from your cheek. minho's eyelids fluttered closed, dark umber eyes shielded by his eyelids as his lashes kissed the swells of his cheeks. you felt his cock twitching in your mouth, which you gratefully rewarded with a swallow, your throat tensing around him as you did so. minho's abs twitched with a sharp gasp, his thighs simultaneously trembling around your head. you looked up at him through stuck-together, wet lashes, staring at him intently. his hands lifted your mouth from his cock, "that's enough," his voice was throaty, heavy and husky as he spoke, evidently shaken up by your efforts.

"ah, i got some lipstick on you," you noted, seeing your lips stamped his pelvis, his inner thighs and the base of his cock in your lipstick. "leave it there," minho beamed, his bronze skin slightly shining in the light from an excited sheen of sweat. a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead and the sides of his face, saturating them in colour as a consequence. "you're always so pretty when i fuck you." minho was affectionate now, stroking your ruffled up hair lovingly, tucking the strands away from your face. he didn't even touch your tear-streaked cheeks, or your smeared lipstick, or your half-opaque mascara stained face, opting to admire it proudly instead of meddle with what was already perfection in his eyes.

you climbed back onto the couch, settling into your previous position of having minho between your legs, your sex now exponentially more wet than last time. you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully relax when you felt minho kiss your sex, littering you with his affection, his black-painted thumb pressing against your clit, rolling around the pearl in tight, lazy circles. you sighed contentedly, your hips slightly rocking in place against him. minho's fingers dipped down into your slit, gathering up your slick and slid into you with ease, after leaving a quick kiss just above your entrance that made you quiver in delight, anticipating his next move. your eyes raked over his forearm, veins travelling up his arm and bicep, catching the light and shadows simultaneously. your hand wrapped around his wrist, tracing over his smooth skin and feeling his veins underneath the pad of your thumb.

minho leaned into you, kissing your neck and the dip of your collarbones encouragingly. "you're doing so well for me, darling," he whispered into your skin, his hot breath on your skin resembling what you imagined paradise to feel like. your free hand travelled to his hair, twirling a lock in-between your fingers and letting it go, entangling your fingers in his hair like he did to yours earlier; although you were much, much kinder to him. then minho fully invested himself, pushing the blunt parts of his fingers into the good part inside of you, curling and stroking your walls attentively, his thumb quickly stroking your puffy clit, his fingers curving and circling. your eyes widened in realisation, your chest rising and falling quicker as you took a breath in, sharply.

he was spelling his name inside of you.

your walls tensed and quivered around his long, skilled fingers, your eyes screwing shut as his fingers brushed against your cervix. "you like that? does it feel good, baby?" minho muttered, cooing over your whines — you nodded, otherwise speechless. he dipped his head down to your cunt, his pink lips latching and suckling on your clit, the front of his tongue licking up and down your slit rhythmically, cleaning you of your slick, your legs trembling and your hips buckling under him, your back arching. gasping for breath, your hands tugged at minho's hair to entice him off of your sex, his fingers painted in a thick white coating of your cum, drooling out of your hole no matter how much minho tried fucking it back into you, instead using the flat of his tongue to lick you clean. his fingers followed soon after that, his pink, plump lips wrapping around his fingers and skilfully suckling them clean, minho's mouth now full of your orgasm. he manoeuvred himself to be inches away from your flushed face, his thumb tapping against your lipstick-stained lips again. your brows momentarily knitted in confusion, before opening your mouth wide for him. he cupped your chin with one hand, fingers splayed over your neck. minho let a rope of your cum mixed with his spit fall from his lips, falling onto your waiting tongue. he swallowed what was left in his mouth, his head lolling onto the base of his neck, throat on display as he gracefully swallowed your cum, his adam's apple bobbing as his throat opened and closed. "swallow it for me," he used the back of his hand to stroke your cheek delicately, as if you'd break if he added too much pressure onto your skin. you tipped your chin up into the air, letting minho watch as your throat tensed and released as you did as you were told and swallowed what he gave you.

a smile bloomed on minho's pink, swollen lips, the shadow on his sharp cupid's bow becoming more defined as he grinned. "you're so good for me, my love." he muttered proudly, brushing the hair from your face to tenderly press a kiss to your forehead, hands falling to his sides. you leaned into his touch, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. "rest up, we'll go for round two soon enough."

#skz smut #skz fanfic #skz #skz minho #skz imagines #lee know #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids lee know #stray kids minho #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagine #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz thoughts #kpop smut #minho smut #female reader #stray kids lee minho #minho x reader #minho skz #lee minho #minho imagines #minho stray kids #x reader #lee minho x reader #skz lee know

[mirroredmemoriez]

Amanda Young style and fem whatnot thoughts

Once again here to speak my thoughts that nobody asked for because I love documenting my brain which I have to boot up like a chainsaw. I've spoken about Amanda's appearance before! Going over her outfits throughout the franchise and such and how I believe it kinda symbolises the stages she's at- I am in the firm belief her cutting her hair was almost like a rebirth for example.

However, right now I'm looking at the ''gender representation'' and stylisation side I guess? Which, I want to state- These are my opinions and thoughts and are by no way to say I'm like the only CORRECT view and anyone else's interpretation of Amanda that's different to mine is wrong, because I like seeing everyone's various takes on her character. With that said! I see Amanda as somebody who tries to be feminine, but can't express it truly how she wants? Down to factors such as she can't afford certain things like makeup accessories, and that she needs to have more of a practical wardrobe whilst being an apprentice. Oh! Also having to hide her identity at times. (I also want to slide in the fact that I don't think she's hyper feminine or masculine, honestly? She's just Amanda really, I wouldn't personally put a label on it when it comes to that.)

The first look we get of Amanda, she's in a way more revealing outfit than her future ones whilst working under John. This could just be her style, which to a certain degree I agree on... However there also could be an aspect of performative femininity, seeing as she's not ''reformed'' at this point and it's suggested in the Saw wiki that she has prostituted herself to be able to fund her drug addiction before. Basically, catering to the male gaze to get what she wants. She's wearing a cut off shirt which exposes her shoulders and collar area a lot, something we don't see again until Saw 3- And even then it's still not as cut off as the purple one. Amanda also has fishnets, a skirt and boots on. If I had to say how I view Amanda' style myself, I'd go with Hot Topic thief and or something alternative like ''grungy.'' We've also got the fact she has black nail polish on, eyeliner and more curled out hair- Even when she grows it back, it's not as wavy as it's seen here, so it's possible she's either just heavily dishevelled or she purposely has maybe curled it out a little. Once again, this could possibly be her trying to look more appealing to others by ''grooming'' herself better. However, I also think she wants to just for herself really.

Now, we've got her Saw X look, which to me is the most heavily influenced by John. Amanda has cut off her hair to I guess kinda a pixie-bob cut? A big leap from her previous haircut which had it falling at least over her shoulders if not longer. She's also very bare faced, with no heavily noticeable touches of makeup anywhere to be seen. Her clothes are drastically more practical than her previous outfit. A form fitting shirt, cargo pants and combat boots. The only influence I feel she has on this outfit is the choker and little earring. You can't really blame her for the change though- Amanda just wouldn't be putting time into something like beauty cosmetics or making any fashion statement when she's got shit to do... Y'know like make death traps and kidnap people, activities where the way you look doesn't matter and you wouldn't want your clothes to get caught on something especially.

Before I fully move on to her Saw 2 look, two honourable mentions! These both showcase the fact that nowadays, when Amanda is out and about, she's trying to hide her identity. She can't really draw any attention to herself and that is reflected in what she wears. The Scott Tibbs Documentary look has to be one of my favourites, I love the skull trousers so much and they are definitely something she wears because she likes the LOOK, not just because of ''simplicity.''

(Amanda has them on again in the deleted nightmare scene as well, so it's a recurring piece of her wardrobe.)

(I also think this is her dressing for herself- Compared to her outfits when it comes to the games and abductions)

The pig outfit, though I believe can be slightly stupid at times, due to the fact that it's probably less convenient than whipping on something like a balaclava with a hoodie and a bit more out there visually too- It still does it's main intended job, which is to conceal the identity of the Jigsaw apprentices. With the one I've selected above, this is when Amanda is going to abduct Adam, so obviously this is still pretty early in the timeline? We can see a re-appearance of smudged eye makeup like in her introduction.

TRYING TO GET BACK ON TRACK! Here we have her ''blue'' outfits as I dub them. I'm aware there is a time jump between them, however generally what I have to say for them is the exact same? We can see that Amanda is growing her hair out more and I would say these are very relaxed fits. Saw 2 Amanda has to be one of her most basic outfits I'd say, a plain blue shirt and blue sweatpants to go along with it.... The wiki feet people are going insane too.

WOOOOO! ON TO ANOTHER OF MY FAVOURITE OUTFITS. YOU JUST KNOW SHE STOLE THAT BELT FROM HOT TOPIC I AM SO SORRY! Saw 3 Amanda to me is a mix between something like her look in Saw X and then her look in Saw (2004)- I also love the contrast between it and the Saw 2 look, a blue vs red type feel almost? You're definitely more inclined to see Amanda as intimidating here than in blue. Comparisons aside, let's look at the actual fit this woman has on! Once again, she sports cargo pants with a belt to accompany and combat boots too. The shirt isn't as cut off as the purple one as I stated before, but it leaves a lot of her collar and back area exposed. It's her influence alongside John's- And her almost I wouldn't say rebelling? But defining herself outside of him. If I once again want to go full English teacher analysis... We could make the reach and say that her physically exposing herself is paired with how she emotionally is exposed as well. Her lowest points if you will. BUT! We'll move on from that so I can ramble about some other accessories. Amanda is wearing a gold ring and a watch, nothing too out there but I wanted to point them out seeing as I am covering the WHOLE outfit. Her hair is now at it's original length, once again reinforcing the fact she is almost reverting back to her old style but at the same time redefining it? Hair growth to show personal growth. (Some more honourable mentions.)

Here we have her dress, leather jacket and DBD concept art! First we'll look at the dress. It's honestly really cute to me- The ribbon around her neck just really makes it AMANDA, otherwise there isn't too much to say on the design outside of that and it's colour. Then moving on to the leather jacket, it's something I can definitely see her wearing a lot on top of her other outfits. OK! This is getting super fucking long now, I'll try and finish off soon- I have to say I love the DBD concept art and the in game designs too, I can 100% see where they've taken inspiration from with the outfits. I'm in firm belief Amanda deserves to have her arm sleeves so where they've combined that and the Saw 3 look is URHG YES. I also enjoy their take on her leather look, fleshed out the design more in my opinion. Anyway... If you've somehow gotten all the way down here? Jesus Christ, thanks I guess? I am someone who loves over analysing things and discussing characters/movies like this, so I just couldn't help myself anymore. Oh, and feel free to add on to any of this, whether you agree or disagree! MAL OUT

#amanda young #shawnee smith #saw #saw 2004 #saw x #saw 2 #saw 3 #saw movies #saw franchise #saw headcanons #saw character study #sawposting #jigsaw #jigsaw apprentices #dbd pig #the pig dbd #amanda young dbd #saw art #dbd art

[hellfiremunsonn]

Why Are You So Nice To Me? Joseph Quinn x Reader

Why Are You So nice To Me?

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

SUMMARY: This new life is taking a toll on you. Desperately trying to not seem ungrateful leads you to an overstimulated panic attack that Joe helps you through.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

AN: A big thank to @creme-bruhlee​ for giving me that one liner that sparked me to finally finish this. I love u

Warnings: None really? Fem!reader, reader has a panic attack/anxiety attack, mentions and descriptions of said panic attack/anxiety attack, Joe being the softest sweetest boy, I love him. (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

Wordcount: 3069

Since the premier of Stranger Things season four my life hadn't had a moment to slow down. It was interviews after interviews, sometimes multiple ones in the same day, different hosts, different shows, websites, everything. Adding all of that with so much traveling, especially with Jospeh, Jamie, and I being three new characters; our schedules were often linked together because of it; Although now, I stood a few feet away from them, leaning against the wall closest to the elevators.

It was about 6 pm at night and I was standing in the lobby of some fancy hotel in Brazil. A white and black dress wrapped against my skin, the hot weather and sun, giving me a healthy bronzed glow. I stupidly decided on a classic pair of very high all black stilettos. I should have opted for an open toe wedged heel or something. But I wanted to impress everyone. My first acting gig, first round of interviews, first time traveling far without family, it was nerve wracking but I wanted every second of it to go well. Something I didn't think that would bother me as much as it did, was not constantly having my phone on you. I didn't realize how much I relied on it as a coping mechanism when I was anxious, or uncomfortable. It was difficult to not have that immediate distraction.

Picking at the black nail polish on my thumb I sighed heavily, trying to get myself into the proper mindset for this Stranger Things party? Event? Meet and greet? Whatever it was, I was ill prepared and uncomfortable to say the least. Jet lagged, sweaty, homesick, and anxious; but it didn't matter, not when you had fans to impress, people to impress, companies to impress. I never had a moment with my own thoughts for more than five minutes before being escorted to another room, car, or airport, it was always something. Not to say I wasn't grateful for everything because I truly was; just there's simply nothing that can prepare you for something like this. A cliche at its finest. I had to stop myself from laughing out loud at my own thoughts. Only another 'famous' person would understand, and in a way it almost felt pathetic, even if I knew it was true.  

A tap to my shoulder startled me slightly. I turned around to see Joe with a soft smile on his face.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just tired" I lied. I think he could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly but he didn't comment.

"The heat doesn't help either I don't think" He said laughing.

"God no, it makes me feel like I'm wrapped in a warm hug, but also in a warm bath? Maybe both at the same time? I don't know but either of those sound better than a party right now" I said sighing. Tapping the tip of my shoe against the shiny tiled floor.

Joe looked like he was about to say something but just as he opened his mouth, we were waved over and instructed on where to go and what to do.

The three of us stationed at the entrance of grey double doors. I stood between the two men, both of their arms coming to wrap around my waist, and mine on theirs.

"Let's get this show on the road yeah?" I said forcing a smile, glancing between the two.

The doors swung open and as the three of us sauntered in, the small but crowed room filled with applause and music begun to play. Jamie slipped his hand into mine and gave me a slow twirl to introduce me. I blushed and gave an awkward wave, and a clumsy curtsy to match his energy. Then turning to Joe, I grabbed his hand and twirled him around to do the same as Jamie did to me. Joe was far more graceful as I was and I watched as the girls swooned over him. It was hard not to, if I was being completely honest with myself; but that was another thought for another time. Right now I had to be present, and put my game face on. Which is exactly what I did. I walked around and mingled with everyone, taking pictures and answering questions as best as I could, especially without giving anything away, just incase there was anyone around who hadn't had the opportunity to finish the season just yet. The music was uncomfortably loud and I struggled to hear what people were saying, barely able to make out the often broken English, but I tried my best.

After a while I snuck away to the back of the room, attempting to people watch while I clutched my glass of ice water to my chest. A few minutes alone and hidden from the eye of people I leaned my back against the wall, trying to regulate the beating of my heart. Nothing seemed to help it, and it only became worse, at this point I was facing the wall, desperately begging myself to stop hyperventilating. I could feel my bottom lip wobbling as I tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. A hand on the small of my back startled me and I almost dropped the glass in my hands as I whipped around. It was Joesph, once again, a knight in shining armour. "What are you doing all the way over here?" He asked.

I looked at him. My heart still thumping in my chest, and I could feel words on the tip of my tongue but when I opened my mouth to speak they wouldn't come out. My brows furrowed, and the only noise I was able to make was a small whimper, but it sounded more like a choke. "Come 'ere" He said wrapping his arm around my waist. He took the glass from my hand and placed it on a nearby surface. Strategically moving around the people in the room as he lead me out and back into the lobby. Security following us quickly until we were safely out of sight from any lurking people. My chest rising and falling faster now, my hands covered my ears and my eyes were shut tight out of instinct and I didn't even realize I had done it until Joe was facing me in the elevator placing his hands over mine. My anxiety had heightened everything, every noise, and light and moment seemed all too much and I could feel myself getting overstimulated; suddenly hyper aware of how the fabric of my dress clung to me, and the way the tag was digging into my spine.

When I opened my eyes to look at him, the tears hidden behind my lids fall easily down my cheeks. When the elevator dinged he lead me down the hall; his hand still on the small of my back only letting go of me to reach out for the small bag I clutched in my hands. "Key?" He said softly and I fumble with shaky hands, pulling out the keycard to my hotel room. He took the card gently, his free hand never leaving the small of my back while he unlocked the door, encouraging me to walk in before him, stopping only a few feet from the door. He closed and locked the door behind me and came to face me again.

"What's going on?" He asked quietly, while his hands were rubbing both my arms up and down in attempts to sooth me.

"I-I just" I choked out a sob, my head falling to my chest.

"Hey you're okay, everything's okay"

I shook my head. "No, no everything is not okay, I'm not okay" I cried, pulling away from him a little more aggressively than intended. Leaning one hand on the wall I balanced on one foot ripping one of my heels off, and then doing the same with the other shoe. Chucking them onto the floor. I desperately grabbed at the back of my dress, trying to reach the zipper. "I'm losing my goddamn mind Joesph" I mumbled, through snot and tears. "I can't remember the last time I was home, or the last time I slept in a bed that wasn't in a hotel. I haven't seen my mom in months and I'm so fucking lonely and I fuck!-" I stopped trying to reach for the zipper, my hands balled into fists at my sides. I tried again to take control of my rapid breathing, I really didn't want to be having a full meltdown in front of anyone let alone Joesph but he stood there quietly and patiently, giving me the space I needed.

Calming slightly I tried reaching for my zipper again, only for it to get stuck about a quarter way down, stuck on the fabric. I tugged at it harshly before trying to pull it apart but I couldn't get a proper grip reaching behind me.

"Can I get your zipper for you?" He asked after a had a couple of minutes to lose my temper.

"Please?" I said desperately, turning around and walking back over to him, my bare feet padding against the floor. I turned around so my back was facing him, pulling my hair to the side and over my shoulder so it wasn't in the way. His fingers traced lightly against the back of my neck, moving a few pieces of hair I had missed in the process. Goosebumps coated my skin and I tried to control the shiver that attempted to surface, hiding it with a shaky inhale. He pulled at the zipper, bringing it back up and down, feeling it tug at the fabric again, even with Josephs nimble fingers.

"Just rip it-Please I need it off of me" I pleaded.

I felt him tug at it a few more times before I heard him sigh, shifting behind me. I went to turn around when his hands returned to my back and he pulled both ends of my dress apart, ripping it in one go. I gasped in relief, almost losing my balance, one of his hands coming to land firmly on my waist pulling me back into him, my back against his chest, holding me steady for a moment. The dress hung loosely under my breasts, sitting at my waist, my strapless bra keeping my chest covered.

Joesph cleared his throat and I turned my attention back to him, stepping away from him and turning to face him. He avoided looking at me, eyes looking every direction other than the one in front of him. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable I just n-needed to get that dress off of me" Stuttering over my words, with my body still wobbly from the anxiety.

"S'all good, I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable either" He said laughing a little, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Can I do anything to help?"

"Um, a hug would be nice?" I said clenching and unclenching my hands, trying to free them from the tingling numbness that coursed through them.

His eyes softened, and I felt a fresh wave of tears form as he held his arms out to me. A small cry slipping past my lips, sounding more like a pathetic whimper as I walked into his arms, burying my face into his chest. His hands warm, one of them coming up to the small of my back, while the other cradled the back of my head. "I got you baby, don't cry, m'right here" he said quietly, into my temple. His breath warm as he placed a small kiss to the skin just before my hairline.

He began swaying slowly back and forth, and we stood there like that for a few moments before I leaned my head up to look at him, cheek still resting on his chest. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"What?" He said, pulling me away from him slightly so he could see my face better. Hands held softly onto my elbows. "What do you mean 'why' ?"

I shrugged looking down to avoid his curious eyes, a little embarrassed at my question. "I just... I dunno, I think you're the nicest man I've ever met" catching a quick glance at him, his eyes softened.

"Fucking christ" he breathed with a laugh. "You're just the sweetest thing aren't you? Bet you don't have any idea"

"Any idea about what?" I asked furrowing my brows.

"That I've been crushing on you since you walked into that room on day one of the table read" his hands coming up to rest on either side of my neck, thumbs just under my jaw. "But I don't think now is an appropriate time to tell you all this- I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you being in a vulnerable state, so just ignore me" He was blushing, and fumbling over his words, nervous after his confession. A hand coming to scratch at the scruff on his chin, he cleared his throat, turning away to the rest of the room and said "lets get you into some comfier clothes yeah? We could-"

"N-no" I stuttered, reaching out for his arm quickly. He raised a brow. "Just keep talking? It's helping" I said bashfully, arms wrapping around myself.

He smiled slightly, clearly trying to act more casual about it. "I can do that" he said with a nod.

"Just, sit on the bed o-or something, I'll um, get changed" I said while heading towards my messy suitcase, shifting through the clothes to find something better to wear while Joseph sat on the end of the bed, laying back facing the ceiling with his hands across his stomach.

"Well as I was saying" he said with a laugh. "When you walked into the room, with that big sweater- you were swimming in it but god I thought you looked adorable" he sighed. "You sat next to me, and I remember hiding my pen, just so I could ask you to borrow one, and then when you laughed? I tried so hard to play it cool, but I don't think I did very well" he paused. "I mean how could I when someone as beautiful as you was smiling and laughing, and looking at me with those fucking eyes"

It was almost difficult listening to someone say so many nice things about me, to me, let alone hearing them from Joe himself. The man I had been crushing back on since the first time I saw him.

I smiled to myself listening to the sound of his voice while I finally found the clothes I wanted, a pair of green paperbag shorts and a white t shirt, something comfy enough to relax in, but loose enough to not sweat to death in. Joe was lost in thought, and I watched him out of the corner of my eye while I slipped out of my dress, removing my bra quickly, throwing on a soft bralette in it's place before tugging my shirt over my head. The movement of me untucking my hair from the collar made Joe turn to me briefly and he smiled.

I blushed, looking down bashfully as I tugged the shorts up my hips with a couple of hops. "Distracted?" I teased.

"M'always distracted when I look at you" he said sitting up, holding his hand out to me. I walked over to him slowly, taking his hand in mine.

He pulled me closer to him so I was now stood in-between his legs "How you feeling?" He asked, thumb smoothing over the back of my hand.

"Better" I said honestly. "Still a bit jittery, but better"

"Good" he said smiling.

"I um" I cleared my throat "I have a crush on you as well, by the way"

"I know" he laughed.

"What?" I scoffed "How?"

"You're a great actor when you're acting for the camera, but you're shit when you're with me" He laughed again and his smile spread, all too confident and cheeky. "Every scene we had together you'd tense every time I touched you, and when we had our kiss, I could just feel it"

"O-Oh" I was slightly embarrassed, but I think deep down I always knew that he had some sort of idea, it was getting impossible to hide. Maybe I was trying to hide it from myself more than I was from him. His hand left mine, both of them coming to the back of my thighs, squishing the skin there. I stumbled a little at his touch, my hands coming forward to catch myself on his shoulders.

"Are we going to keep pretending, or can I finally call you mine?"

"I mean we should probably go on a date first" I said jokingly, leaning forward to wrap my arms around his neck, his hands quick to land on my waist.

"Order room service, I'll take you our tomorrow, right now I just want to hold ya, and watch you get all shy when I say nice things about you" he said with a smirk, pulling me into him while he fell back onto the bed, pulling me up and next to him.

"You just want to get me in bed" I teased, playing with the collar of his suit jacket.

"Aren't you already?" he quipped.

I pushed at his shoulder playfully but he only tugged me closer, leaning so he could kiss me on the forehead.

"I'll go get changed while you order food yeah?"

I pouted, holding onto him a little tighter, already not wanting him to be far from me.

"I'll be five minutes, you wont even have time to miss me" he said while pushing some of my hair back and away from my face.

"Kiss me first?" I asked shyly.

Somehow this kiss felt different. We had kissed many times on set, and even had to have a heavy make out session for one scene. But right now, the way he slowly pressed his lips to mine; it made everything inside of me feel aligned, like he was missing from me and it almost took me too long to notice. I sighed happily into the kiss and he hummed in response, breaking away to give me a few extra light pecks before pulling himself from me.

"Five minutes" he said quietly, kissing me one more time before he left, a wide smile on his face.

#hellfiremunsonn #Joseph Quinn #Stranger Things #Joseph Quinn fic #Joseph Quinn fluff #Stranger Things fic #Stranger Things Joseph Quinn #Joseph Quinn Stranger Things #Joseph Quinn x reader #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson x reader #Joseph Quinn fan fiction #Stranger Things fluff #Eddie Munson fluff

[harunovella]

embers of a fire ; c.k.

synopsis: you loathed him, you despised him... and you couldn't even truly understand as to why. it was superficial, overly judgmental of you to hate choso kamo... however, a class project forces you to spend time with him. little did you know, the man you couldn't swallow, would be the one man you'd never want to leave your side.

cw: fem!reader, snobbish/holier-than-thou!reader (but she gets better okay!), emo skater boi!choso, college au, enemies (?) to lovers, reader's parents are the source of her bitchiness/aka terrible parents, big bro!choso/lil bro!yuji, kissing, slight angst, love confessions, smut (good ol oral w fem receiving, fingering, no condom...), srry if I miss any! MDNI!

wc: 16k+

an: thank you for 100+ followers! I forgot to announce it when I posted my reiner fic a few weeks ago.... but anyway! okay this is super long and I was considering breaking into two parts but yall are real champs and can def read 16k words lmfao (if not, just yknow like it and finish reading it later). i've got the hots for most of the jjk men and I am OBSESSED with emo goth boy!choso so here you go! title inspo comes from this PHENOMENAL song! enjoy xo

How does one make the most popular and loved girl on campus turn her bright-white, toothy smile upside down into a grimace of pure malice? Pair her up with the loner, emo, goth boy of course!

It was your sophomore year of college which meant getting rid of the same ol' prerequisites everyone and their mother must take during their undergrad. You flew by those classes with phenomenal grades, best of the best, one of the top of your class—and that was a ton of students to compare yourself to. After all, you came from a legacy, a bloodline who (all before you) attended the same university. Hell, there was a hall named after your clan. You were that person. Everyone wanted you or to be you. And you held your head high with the upmost confidence knowing this.

Except there was that one guy... the only person who knew how to get on every single one of your nerves, under your smooth and well maintained skin—Choso Kamo. If anyone else were watching from the outside in, they'd say the man did nothing wrong other than exist and breathe the same air as you, but somehow that irked you.

Everything about him irked you.

From the baggy, dark clothes he wore—shirts two sizes too big and jeans so loose with tears you weren't sure if he did them himself or if it was the style—to the dumb tape (tattoo? you weren't sure) across his nose. The endless amounts of piercings on his ears, septum, and (yes, you somehow managed to notice) his tongue. The god awful tattoos that peeked out from the loose sleeves of his tees when he wasn't wearing a jacket... to the chipped black nail polish on his fingernails and the many odd hairdos he did with his long hair.

Yeah, everything about him rubbed you the wrong way. Especially when he felt the need to skateboard everywhere he went on campus and nearly crashing into you multiple times.

It didn't help that he hung out with two other wackos—one being a pot head who had crackhead energy and the other always wearing the creepiest of grins and smirks as if he were plotting murders in his head.

God, Choso gave you the worst vibes. Of course he'd be assigned to work with you on a project for your Intro to Psychology class. It was a whole get to know someone better assignment that felt so kindergarten. Writing up a report relating to the lessons learned while also becoming friends with someone you didn't know? Hell, that was not going to be you.

You squirmed in your seat at the announcement, rubbing your forehead and sighing. Almost begging Professor Yaga to switch you with anyone... absolutely anyone.

"Don't worry so much," Utahime said as she poked your arm gently.

"I don't get why you're so bothered by his existence," Yuki laughed from behind you, tugging at your hair that sat almost perfectly down your back. "He's kinda hot with that emo vibe he gives off."

"Oh, god," Mei Mei rolled her eyes as she sat on the opposite side of you. "You have such poor taste in men. Bet he has no money."

"Mei Mei," Utahime sighed. "I can switch with you, I've got that knucklehead Satoru as my partner," she nudged her head back in the direction of where the man sat—nearly surrounded by girls fawning over him not so discreetly in the middle of a lecture. You looked over and scrunched up your nose. Wasn't like you had anything against him, actually, he was pretty intelligent and was at your level... he just was a bit too chaotic and always had a flock of girls following him around. It was quite annoying.

"It's fine," you huffed, nearly sinking into your seat before you straightened your back. "Yaga wouldn't allow it anyway. He's stubborn. I'll just... have to... get through it."

"Atta girl," Yuki patted your head as she leaned her chin on her other hand. "And while you're at it, give me his number. I'll gladly snatch him out of your hands once it's all over."

"Doubt I'll be getting anything out of him besides what's needed for the project," you shook your head as you shut your eyes, momentarily meditating to embrace what was to come. Opening your eyes and peeking over your shoulder to spot the man you were paired with, perched in the corner of the auditorium with his focus elsewhere, you cringed. He looked unbothered, completely uninterested and deadpan. He was slouched back in his seat, pen bobbing in between his fingers as his other arm draped over the empty seat beside him. It was then you noticed one of the two delinquents he hung out with was missing, leaving him alone with a talkative Mahito that had been bothering some poor kid beside him about god knows what. Just as you were about to look away, Choso's eyes shifted to meet yours, expression still barren, earning an eye roll from you before you turned your focus back ahead.

"Remember, this will count as 50% of your grade as the remaining 50% depends on how well you do on your exams and attendance. Don't miss class like a certain Getō did," Yaga spoke up. "Class dismissed."

"You know what I want to know?" Yuki started as your group of friends began gathering their things. "Why is it that Suguru and Mahito thought it was a good idea to get stitches as tattoos? Maybe that's what Choso is hiding under the nose tape."

"I thought they drew it on themselves?" Utahime furrowed her eyebrows.

"From what I've heard, they both lost a bet to Choso and had to get those god awful tattoos," Mei Mei spoke as she brushed some of her hair over her shoulder.

You, however, were in your own world. Their conversation went in one ear and out the other as you constantly found yourself stealing glimpses of Choso, annoyance clear in your expression. Anyone but him, really... Why did you have to be paired with him? You probably would've taken Suguru instead if he hadn't skipped. He used to be somewhat normal from what you remember. Back when he was best friends with Shoko and Satoru. You weren't sure what happened there but, to be fair, you didn't care much. Satoru was in his own world, enjoying the constant ego boosts and Shoko hung out with the medical students. You supposed they all went their separate ways.

Just as you were deep in thought, not realizing where you were staring or what you were doing, a masculine, monotone voice startled you. "If you're so intrigued, just take a picture of me."

Blinking a few times before gasping, you looked over to see Choso had been a few steps higher than you, leaning in to speak before walking past you with an indifferent expression on his face. As if he didn't just insult you, making you seem like you were interested in him. "As if!" You huffed, earning a few looks from your girlfriends. "It'd break my poor camera."

"Good one!" A sudden laugh made you jump again in your spot as Mahito patted your head before following Choso.

Swatting him away before running your fingers through your hair, you glared at the two who walked across the auditorium, towards the exit. "Jerks..." you mumbled before snatching your bag and lifting up your chin.

"They really get under your skin, huh?" Yuki pointed out.

"They're beneath me, that's all." With a wave of your hand and a flip your hair, you held yourself high and mighty before exiting the class. Yeah, you were prissy and a bit obnoxious but, hey, that's what everyone loved about you. And their opinions mattered the most... right?

Choso never understood your hatred towards him. Actually, he didn't seem to care. Plenty of people hated him for whatever pathetic, judgmental reasons—and you probably the same—but there was something different about you. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but it definitely felt like you were hiding something from him. From everyone.

In all honesty, you had him intrigued. What was it about you that was sounding sirens in his head? You dressed like you were trying to be Elle Woods, in pinks and pastels. You did your hair so neat and perfect—nothing like his chaotic nest. You always held your head high, wore this sweet perfume that was near nauseating. You drove a car he definitely couldn't afford. He was sure you were a spoiled brat of some rich entrepreneur—but he couldn't say you didn't deserve your class spot. Truly, you were intelligent; bright in all ways possible. That, he'd give you credit for. However, your personality? That way of being, so prim and posh? Something wasn't right. As if you were forced to be this way with all the eyes on you.

And maybe that's why he was so "excited" to be your partner for this assignment. He was going to figure it out, what it was that was hidden behind the makeup and hair pins, amongst those designer outfits and manicured nails. Who you truly were, deep inside.

It also didn't help that one day when he was skateboarding around campus to get from point A to point B, he so happened to pass by your car where you were sort of blasting nu metal from an artist he vaguely recognized. All alone, singing—practically screaming—in a secluded parking lot where you believed no one would see you.

Yeah, you definitely were hiding something from everyone. 

Choso departed from Mahito after telling him he was going to stay behind to plan meet ups with you—which, in turn, got some vulgar remark from Mahito. The man with a twisted grin saying how you really needed a good lay and that he hoped Choso would be that. Choso, who was very used to Mahito's unfiltered mouth, didn't even bat an eyelash, just dismissed his friend and leaned against a wall.

"Mei Mei and I gotta split, we have to meet up with Shoko," Utahime spoke as you and your group piled out of the auditorium.

"And I've gotta go tutor Todo!" Yuki waved as she turned the opposite way, leaving you on your own. You didn't mind, wasn't like you didn't have a friend—or at least an acquaintance—in every corner. Actually, you were more than likely going to call up Kiyotaka to see if he wanted to meet you in the library for your weekly study sessions as you both were taking an economics class.

However, that thought went out the door when your focus landed on your beloved goth. In all his emo glory, leaning against a wall with one door propped up against it, you couldn't help but eye him from head to toe. Now that he was standing, you could truly see how big his shirt was on him and how much he really loved the color black. You were amazed he wasn't wearing black lipstick to top it all off. Maybe that was crossing the line for him. Who knows.

Realizing you were staring for much too long—and probably blocking the doorway—you sighed and approached him. "Let's get this over with."

Lifting his eyes from his phone as he scrolled through his socials, meeting your own—disinterested—pair, Choso stood straight with a huff before speaking, "it won't take us one hour to complete this assignment. We have weeks worth of work to do."

"So?" You then crossed your arms.

"So... miss top of her class, you can't half-ass this work. No matter how much you hate me," he said with tired eyes—a look he always carried. You wondered if he ever slept. He wondered if you still had your little heavy metal sessions.

The two of you stared at one another for longer than you should've. You let out a small scoff before rolling your eyes, "whatever. We can meet up for an hour daily. I think that'll be my limit for how long I can endure your demonic aura."

Eyeing you as you had turned your head to the side stubbornly, a small excuse of a laugh left his lips, "I'm not into satanism. Don't worry, Barbie doll, I'm not going to sacrifice you to some nonexistent deity."

Twitching at the nickname he gave you, you sighed and straightened your posture. He knew how to irk you. "Sure, whatever. Then why do you wear upside down crosses?"

"It's for the aesthetic, obviously," he said as if you should've known that. "Same reason why you love to wear those big pearls on your ears, or that scarf with that plaid pattern. Or even those red bottom heels," Choso listed as you found your cheeks heating up. Was he keeping tabs on you? Was he paying the much attention to what you wore? And why were you blushing?! "You call that fashion, I call this fashion," he said as he flicked the earring that dangled from his right ear.

"Creep," you mumbled before reaching into your bag and pulling out a small journal. Removing the pen from it and writing down something, you tore the piece and folded it neatly before handing it over to him, dropping it into his palm as he extended his hand out. "That's my address. Don't go about stalking me and seeing what I'm wearing. Be there at 8PM, no later. We can do this every Monday through Thursday for one hour. Don't bother me from outside that one hour. Got it?"

Looking at his palm, then down at you, he slid it in his back pocket before answering, "sure."

"Perfect! Now you can leave me be. And stop noting what I wear, loser," you stuck your tongue out before walking away. Yeah, you were mature. It just didn't help that you needed to get out of there, and fast. For some reason, your face felt hot and your heart was racing. You were afraid you were going to start stuttering if you stayed any longer. Why was he so nonchalant? And, damn, why did he smell so good?! You weren't even trying to sniff him, but his cologne knocked right into you. Also, why the hell was he so observant of what you wore? He had no right!

As if.... you weren't the same towards him.

He didn't need to know that.

8PM on the dot. You heard someone knock on your front door, knowing very well it was Choso. You were home alone that evening—as you almost always were as your parents were too busy to focus on their only daughter. You were in the midst of tidying your room—making sure nothing too secretive was lying around—before you made your way downstairs, and to your front door. Sucking in a deep breath and forcing your best scowl, you opened the front door.

In all honesty, the hours that lead up to Choso's arrival were nerve wracking. You weren't sure why. Nothing out of this world, wasn't like he was anyone impressive. Yet you put more effort into your look than you should've for just lounging in your home and working on an assignment. You told yourself it was just how you were. You always looked your best, even at home. Even when you were in those little, pink shorts and an oversized sweater with a cartoon character on it that made you look smaller. It was the first thing Choso noticed when you opened the door—besides the fact that you had subtle makeup and your hair in two little space buns... reminding him too much of his own hairdo.

But, he knew better than to point that out. You'd chew him out.

"Still living with your parents?" He pointed out, though you were sure it wasn't a question and rather a statement.

"So?" You narrowed your eyes. "No point in living in the dorms when I live close to the university. Not everyone lives in a shoe box for an apartment," you crossed your arms as Choso simply blinked.

"And you know where I live because—"

"I— I don't!" You blushed. "I just assumed!"

A subtle grin on his lips as he stood at your door, one hand gripped on the strap of his backpack while the other was deep in the pocket of his grey sweats. So he did own a color outside of black? "And I'm the creepy one."

Snapping your eyes up from the spot they had landed on—definitely not the outline of his dick in his sweats—you hissed, "shut up."

"Can I come in? Or are we going to just stay here and banter?" He asked as you sucked in a deep breath, taking a step to a side and gesturing for him to enter. Without hesitation, he did so. Eyeing his surroundings. The formal living room with modern couches and decor, a dining table and several art pieces hung about. A few framed family photos spotted on the coffee table. It was quite... minimal for a home with a family. Much too clean and pristine. He was starting to understand why you were the way you are.

"Do you want... water or something," you grumbled as you offered, noticing how Choso was curiously studying your home.

"Nah, I've got my own bottle in my bag," he said before spotting your staircase. "Where're we gonna do this?"

Sucking in a deep breath, you pointed upward, "my room." Leading the way towards and up the stairs, you stopped on the second step before turning to look down at him, "don't even think about stealing anything or taking photos. Got it?" You pointed at him as he lifted his hands up in defense before you hummed, turning and treading up the steps.

"I was thinking about stealing one of your panties, but now that you say that—"

"Ugh, gross!" You exclaimed, shaking your head as your steps became stomps. "I wouldn't even doubt it..."

Slightly grinning to himself as he followed you, Choso came to a stop at your doorway as he eyed your bedroom. It was exactly as he expected. Pink... so pink... pink and white with cute things everywhere. Yet, so organized and cleaned up. Like... an unused children's room. This can't possibly be your happy space. So many plushies stuffed on your bed? Sanrio decorations on your desk? A vanity filled with endless makeup products? Well, maybe it was your happy spot. But... it felt like this was some experimental room you were tossed in and put under supervision to see if they could make you the perfect girl.

There had to be something hidden amongst all the bubblegum decor. Something that hinted to the real you.

"Do I sit in all those or in that..." Choso pointed at your bed covered in plush toys or your pink bean bag that sat on a white, fluffy rug. God, how could you even breathe in here?

"You can sit here," You corrected, pulling out your desk chair before you sat in the sea of teddy bears, somehow not disrupting the layout. As if there was a spot specifically for you. "You've got one hour, emo boy."

"Right," Choso sighed as he settled into the white chair.

Lifting your eyes from your laptop as you had flipped it open, you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. He stuck out of your room like a sore thumb. So out of place... Like a black rose amongst a bed of pink. For a moment, you thought it was cute. For a moment. "I'll start with the introductions," you spoke up after nearly clearing your throat from words that weren't uttered but thought out.

Reaching into his bag and pulling out his laptop, Choso looked at you for a moment to see you focused on your screen before his eyes darted around your room, looking for anything off. Your mattress, pillow... maybe behind your dresser or underneath your bean bag. Something hidden. You must've kept a secret collection of records somewhere. Maybe even black band tees. "Sure..."

You started asking the basic introductory questions: full name, where you were born, how old are you, what are you studying... so on and so forth. It was child's play. You wondered how Professor Yaga made this assignment so lengthy when it could've been completed with twenty questions or less. You assumed it was something psychological, suited for the class.

Typing out Choso's answers, he then started asking you the same ones, you answering without missing a beat—or making eye contact. "Lastly, what's your favorite heavy metal band?"

Feeling your lips part, you instantly sealed them as you lifted your focus and shot him a look. "That so is not a question!" You exclaimed, glaring.

Looking at you with a subtle smirk, Choso shrugged, "last one is a freebie for the introduction. You asked me why I am so emo, so I thought it was fair I asked you something I was curious about."

"First of all, you actually are emo. Second of all, I do not listen to heavy metal music. I have no idea where the hell you pulled that out of," you narrowed your eyes, but Choso only leaned back in the desk chair and sighed. "What?"

"Your little head banging sessions in your car beg to differ," Choso said as you blinked, eyes gradually widening as you instantly tossed your laptop onto your stuffed toys before standing to your feet. "The kitten has claws—"

"I don't know what you are talking about but you need to stop stalking me," you pointed your finger at him.

Lifting his hands up in defense, he sighed, "I don't know why you're being so defensive. If it isn't true, if I'm lying, you wouldn't care. But I'm not lying, I know what I saw. You haven't even denied it."

Clenching your jaw as your glared down at him, you pushed your hand against his laptop and shut it as your other hand settled on your hip, "sure, I listen to alternative music that isn't up to my quote unquote standards when no one is around. Sure, I love to scream and bang my head to release my inner frustrations through heavy metal. However, do you think anyone would believe you if you started spreading word? No, they wouldn't, because that's unlike me. I wouldn't do any of that," you said with your eyes still squinted. "Nice try, Choso."

"I have no intentions on spreading rumors—sorry, facts—about you. Actually, with me being the only one to know this, it means I was right about you," he said, looking up at you with that bored expression he so gracefully wore.

Arching an eyebrow, you leaned towards him, "right about what?"

A small smile appeared on his lips as he sat up, looking you in the eyes, "that you aren't who you seem. That all of this," he gestured to your room, "is nothing but a cloaking device forced upon you to hide who you really are. You're just a poor princess trapped in her tower of pink lies. Tell me I'm wrong."

Eyeing him as you kept your focus locked on his, taking in deep breaths, you nearly bit your tongue off. "You are so wrong."

Choso was not wrong. Nowhere near wrong. Actually, he was burning hot with his assumptions and theories and intuition. You hated that. Yet, you couldn't avoid him. He was your partner and you weren't going to fail an introductory class. Damn that man.

You continued your daily meet ups at your place—sometimes at the library if you knew your parents would be home. Those happened seldom, and Choso didn't even have to ask to know why there was a change in environment. He was well aware your parents would despise him if they saw him. Now a week into your project, Choso was slowly learning more about you, more than what you put out. He was well aware that you had both beauty and brains, he wasn't going to lie, he had eyes. However, he started noticing the little cracks. The holes in you that were created by your own pillars—your parents. They wanted you you be the perfect little girl for them. Since you were the only child, they were so fixated on you and your achievements.

Probably why you had all those trophies from various competitions on a shelf in your home.

You didn't enjoy it, you didn't have to tell him for him to know. He saw it in your eyes whenever you lied and said you had fun competing as a child. (In reality, he was sure you wanted an actual fun childhood.)

It was obvious why you were the way you were. They were carving you out, shaping you the way they wanted. Not how you did.

And Choso was sure, if he pushed hard enough, he'd get you to tip over and break into a million pieces. Pull yourself back together, and bring out a better you. The real you.

Of course, that is once he gets on your good side.

"So how are things with you two?" Yuki asked as the two of you walked along the campus, leaving one of your shared classes. "I mean, you've hardly complained about him since we started working on the project."

Sighing as you held your journal against your chest, you looked off to the side. "He's— He's... there..."

"There?" She asked with a small snicker. "What the hell does that mean? Hey! You still haven't given me his number!"

"I'll give it to you later," you mumbled, looking up at the sky now, eyeing the scattered clouds and the distant birds flying below them.

"Later? Oh! So you did manage to get it, huh?" Yuki grinned, nudging you with her elbow.

"Yeah, a few meet ups in, solely to let him know where to meet up. Can't have my parents seeing him," you said, thinking about the reaction your parents would have if they saw Choso in your room. Oh, how they'd panic. Your father would lose his mind and your mother would—without a doubt—pass out. The thought made you chuckle.

"What's so funny?" The blonde beside you asked, eyeing you with an arched eyebrow.

"Nothing..." you hummed.

"Hmm..." studying you, Yuki then crossed her arms. "So, you've got a crush on him—"

Coming to a complete stop, you turned and eyed her, "excuse me? Repeat yourself? Deranged witch!"

"There she is!" Yuki pointed with a laugh. "For a second I thought I lost you there! You weren't being so bitchy—"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, turning back in your spot, continuing to walk. "I do not have a crush on him, where the hell did you get that from?"

"You haven't complained about him once and, well, you are his partner still... you haven't managed to convince Yaga to switch you. And don't give me the whole he won't bullshit, we all know everyone in the faculty and staff adore you. So, what's up? What's got you so... chill? You aren't even fuming like you normally would. C'mon, talk to me. You know I'm the best person to confess to," Yuki grinned with a flip of her hair.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "there's nothing. We just meet up for an hour, do our work, then go our separate ways."

"So the assignment isn't bringing you two close? I know for a fact it's got 'hime and 'toru fu—"

Lifting a finger, you shook your head, "don't you finish that sentence. Please." Watching her lift her hands up in defense, you shook your head. "He's a hard man to open up. His responses are minimal and almost cryptic. He doesn't speak much when it comes to himself, but he seems very interested in me. Like he wants to unravel me. Creepy in my opinion but... whatever. If it's getting me an A, I'll do whatever."

Watching you wave your hand dismissively, Yuki tilted her head with a small grin, "unravel you, huh? Like... get in your panties—"

A gasp left you as your eyes widened. "Yuki, shut up!" You snapped. "No, it's like— he just wants to get to the deepest bits about me! Not that!"

"Deepest bits, like, having his thick, long, di—"

"I'm walking away now!" You said as you picked up your pace, only to hear her laughing. Yuki knew how to get under your skin, but not in a spiteful way. She just liked to bug you, your reactions were golden, so she could only imagine how you were when you were with Choso.

In all honesty, as much as she loved pestering you for his number, she couldn't help but think... you two would actually be quite the power couple. There was something about opposites attracting that made her swoon, especially when it was her little, preppy, best friend and a very handsome, depressed looking, goth boy. The image of you two being together made her smirk. She needed to do something about it.

Walking towards your car as you let out a huff of annoyance, you pulled your keys out from your bag and eyed your surroundings for a moment. Secluded. Just like how you liked it. This was why you always parked here, towards the back of the campus near the history wing. Not many people ventured this way, it was the perfect hideaway.

Unlocking your car and slipping inside, you set the keys in the ignition and plugged your phone in. Taking in a deep breath as you settled in your seat after tapping your favorite playlist, you started bobbing your head to the music. Then, before you knew it—as the rhythm was flowing through you—you started singing (screaming?) along. You were so into it that you nearly forgot your surroundings. That is until your eyes landed on your favorite loner.

There, standing across the way on the sidewalk with one hand clutched onto his skateboard and the other holding his cigarette in between his index and thumb, was Choso. Watching you with a smirk on his lips. When did he get there? How did you not notice? You weren't even a song into the playlist!

With a huff, you lowered the volume and shoved your door open, not bothering to shut it as you stomped over towards the stoic man. He simply stood there, taking a drag and puffing air as you came up, practically barring your fangs. It was cute to him, you looked like an angry kitten. "You!" You pointed as Choso simply took another drag.

"Yeah," he breathed, watching as you stopped before him, just before the curb as he stood towering before you with the additional inches from the sidewalk.

"Where— Where the hell did you come from?!" You shrieked.

"My mother's—"

"No! I didn't see anyone!" You whined as Choso sighed, taking one last inhale from his cigarette before putting it out.

"What? Bummed someone knows you have little therapeutic head banging sessions?" He slightly tilted his head. It was then you noticed his hair was down, in all it's disarray glory, sat beneath a dark grey bucket hat. He wore a baggy tee again, a plain black one and matching sweats. His feet covered in beat up converse this time around. You were so deep in your studying—gawking—that Choso cleared his throat.

Snapping out of it, you looked up at him again and frowned, arms folded as you stomped a foot pathetically, "what is it that you want from me?!"

"Nothing, really," he shrugged. "Just that you quit being someone you're not. Y'know, for someone who judges others for being their true selves."

Fighting the urge to gasp, you bit your tongue, instead, grabbing his hand and yanking him. You pulled him along to your car, opening the passenger door and nearly shoving him inside. Shutting the door behind you, you then rounded the car and took the drivers seat. With the sound of the car locking, you turned up the volume again and sat there with your arms crossed. Your focus was straight ahead as Choso took a minute to take in his surroundings. Your car—a cute, white, Mini Cooper—smelled like spring days. Nothing out of place, cleaned as if you've never used the car before. You had a little dancing flower on your dashboard and a pink ribbon wrapped around your mirror into a bow. Yet, the music emitting from within did not match the interior.

Eyeing the screen before him, he then leaned back into the seat, recognizing the artist as one he listened to religiously. "So, are you kidnapping me?" He asked, turning his attention ahead, eyes aimlessly gazing around his surroundings.

"No," was all you said before raising the volume up. "I know you won't say anything, no one would believe you anyway." Feeling his eyes on you, you bit your inner cheek before mumbling, "and it's nice... having someone to enjoy this with..."

Seeing the way you stubbornly kept your focus anywhere but on him, Choso couldn't help but tease you, "I think you're finally getting soft on me—"

"Don't get used to it!" You snapped, now looking and pointing at him.

Lifting his hands up in defense, Choso looked ahead once again with a small sigh, "is it okay if you go over my place tonight?"

Blinking, your eyebrows narrowed, "why?"

"It's personal," was all he said, voice lower than before. You couldn't help but frown. Personal? "I can't leave home tonight."

"Oh... Kay..." You trailed, studying him and seeing how his demeanor changed, no longer in a teasing mood. "Fine. Since you were such nice company, I'll allow it."

Rolling his eyes, Choso couldn't help but feel a twitch of a smile grow on his lips, "whatever. I'll text you my address."

"Apartment 310..." you sighed, eyeing the grey door before you decorated in nothing but a peephole and... an odd decoration hanging from the door knob. Something resembling that of a child's creation in arts and craft class. You'd have to ask Choso about that—

The sound of heavy, rapid footsteps and excited yelling was heard from the other side of the door, causing you to lean in with furrowed brows. Did he have company? Or was that a really loud TV? Knocking on the door as you had leaned back and stood straight, you heard the heavy footsteps once again—except this time approaching. Seeing the door swing open, your eyes widened.

"What—" seeing no one before you, no sign of Choso, you tilted your head. "Who—" lowering your focus, a pair of big, bright eyes gazed up at you. A little boy, easily 4 or 5, stood before you with a look of awe. His pink hair was messy—ruffled in different directions, as he wore a hoodie with tiger ears and matching shorts plus white socks covering his tiny feet. "Oh... this must be the wrong place... I'm sorry—"

"Yuji! What did I tell you about opening the door?!" Hearing a familiar voice call out—much more intense than you had ever heard of before, you turned your head to see Choso approaching. However, the sounds of whimpering caught your attention as the little boy—which you now learned was named Yuji—was tearing up. "Oh no... I'm sorry, I didn't—" kneeling before the little boy and lifting him in his arms, Choso rubbed his tiny back. "I didn't mean to scare you. But, please, listen to me, okay?"

"O— kay..." the little boy sniffled.

Watching this all unfold, eyes wide in shock, you shook your head and swallowed. What... just happened? Who was this little boy? And why did the sight before you—Choso being so gentle—make your insides twist? "Umm..."

"Come in," Choso nudged his head for you to follow. You, closing the door behind you, did so. He lead you to the living room (which was really just a couple of steps ahead of you) as he sat on the couch, settling the little boy down and wiping his tears as you slowly sat besides the older man. "You can play for thirty more minutes but you must clean and put away all your toys and get ready for bed after, okay?"

"Mhm!" Yuji nodded his head in excitement, only to turn his head to look at you, gasping as he nearly had forgotten you were there. "Choco, is this your girlfriend?" The little boy asked, suddenly all giddy, causing your heart to skip a beat as your eyes widened. Girlfriend?!

"No, she's just a classmate," Choso clarified as you frowned, slightly offended for whatever insane reason. As if you should be insulted by that! Why did he answer so casually? How was he always so calm?! "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

"Okay!" The little boy exclaimed, taking quick steps to stand before you, "hi! My name is Yuji Itadori!"

Blinking a few times, looking down at his tiny hand as it was extended towards you, you took it in your own and gently shook it. "Hi, Yuji... I'm—"

"I know who you are!" He gasped, saying your name as he pointed at you while jumping. "Yeah! That's you! Choco talks—"

"Okay, Jiji, that's enough, go play with your toys," Choso shooed him as Yuji frowned, then gave the older man a small glare before stomping away, mumbling to himself.

Letting out a small breath, you looked at Choso, "you're a young father... he must look a lot like his mom."

"I'm not his dad," Choso clarified, shaking his head as he was covering his mouth, still processing what Yuji was about to say. With a deep breath, he then leaned back against the couch, "his my little brother. Half brother, actually, but... yeah. I'm his legal guardian."

Eyeing Choso as he had yet to look at you, almost as if he were deep in thought, you simply nodded. This must've been what was personal. His little brother, Yuji. "Oh... I see." Not wanting to press, you opened your bag and pulled out your laptop to get ready for your hour session. Just before you did, you gave him one look, realizing he was still dressed similarly to earlier—hair down, a t-shirt and sweats, but now no sneakers... only socks. Turning back to your laptop, Choso did the same as he lifted his from the coffee table before him, getting straight to work.

Thirty minutes had passed and Choso excused himself for a moment, mentioning how he had to make sure Yuji put himself to bed. As he did that, you continued your work, even if your mind was wandering off to uncharted waters. Thoughts of Choso... Choso being a fatherly figure. Again, it was stirring something unwanted within you. You had to force yourself to think about something else.

That is, of course, until a shadow casted upon you. You looked up, behind you to see Choso looking down at you. A small yelp left you as you gulped, quickly turning your attention away as you noticed Yuji standing beside him—hand in hand with Choso. "Oh?" You blinked as the little boy smiled. You realized he was now dressed in his pajama—a cute, dark blue set, with little animals scattered around it.

"I wanted to say good night! So... good night!" He waved with his free hand.

"Good night, Yuji. It was nice meeting you," you smiled back at him before Choso guided him back to his room. The grin on your lips wouldn't fade away, you had to admit, Yuji was adorable.

The cutest kid you've ever met. Hearing distant mumbling, your curiosity got the best of you as you settled your laptop onto the coffee table and stood up. Quietly walking to the small hallway where the two bedrooms and bathroom sat, you carefully peeked over. Choso was kneeling before Yuji's bed, reading a bedtime story. You could see the little boy was fighting sleep as his eyes fluttered closed. Choso noticed this, too. Standing up and making sure all of the plush toys were surrounding him—the way his little brother liked it—Choso leaned in and kissed his forehead good night before gently caressing his hair.

Your heart was racing. You hadn't noticed it. Forcing yourself to look away and walk back to your spot on the couch, you found yourself nibbling on your bottom lip. Trying to focus on your work, you couldn't seem to get passed the single word you typed out. The images of Choso caressing Yuji's back, wiping his tears, holding his hand... and tucking him in... it made you feel so uneasy. It made your heart race. It made your face heat up.

"Okay, he's asleep," Choso said, snapping out of your thoughts as you clinched. He noticed but stayed silent.

"I can keep meeting you here if you need me to," you said, eyes practically glued to your screen, refusing to look up at him. You knew if you looked him in the eye you'd do something foolish. Probably even blush.

"I normally have a babysitter if he doesn't have his evening karate class... but money has been getting tight," he confessed, causing you to look up at him as he reached for his laptop and sat back down. You couldn't help but feel sympathetic. As much as you weren't fond of Choso—for petty reasons—you could only imagine how much he was struggling to raise a little boy on his own.

"It's okay, you don't need to explain," you said, "I like Yuji. He seems like a really sweet boy."

Looking at you, Choso wore a subtle smirk, "he's my bloodline."

"Whatever," you playfully rolled your eyes. "He's innocent and I like his hair."

"You don't like mine?" Choso slightly tilted his head, letting the strands fall to a side. You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head. "No? Wow. Is it because it's not pink?"

Letting out a small laugh, you reached over to touch his hair without thinking. You wrapped some around your finger, twirling it before letting it fall loose, "it's not so bad..."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Eyeing one another as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, you felt your heart begin to race the more you looked at him. Shyly looking away, you cleared your throat. "Let's finish today's work."

Studying you and the subtle blush that tinted your cheeks, Choso nodded. "Yeah."

It was becoming more and more apparent to Choso how much you were softening up to him. Maybe it was because you saw a different side of him after your first visit to his place... or maybe you just wanted to be seen as a saint in little Yuji's eyes. Whatever it may be, you weren't so easily agitated anymore. It caught him off guard when you started giving him small smiles—in which his would subtly reciprocate. He had to test his waters, of course. Maybe you were smiling to someone behind him? But no, it was towards him.

Then, you started inviting him to your little in-car-concerts. He would recommend you music that you'd soon find yourself playing on repeat while alone or in the comfort of your earphones. Other times, you'd recommend him songs in which he'd learn the lyrics to almost the very next day—Choso wouldn't admit it to you, but he kind of wanted you to be impressed. And, you were.

Choso also noticed just how attached his little brother grew to you. Every visit you made for your hourly sessions, you found yourself coming earlier and earlier to spend time with the little boy. He had always asked you to play with him or to watch his favorite movie, but you had told him you couldn't while working on your project, so, of course—in his infinite wisdom—little Yuji suggested you come earlier. And you did.

There was even a routine you started with the duo: helping out Yuji to sleep, even if Choso insisted You didn't have to (you had to, solely because Yuji begged you to... and you did want to, too).

You were... changing, to say the least; and Choso wouldn't complain nor want to stop it.

However, your parents began to notice.

It wasn't as subtle as you thought. You were well aware of the change in demeanor you had. You were nicer to those you once were quite bitchy to. You weren't so stuck up nor snobbish—as Yuki liked to point out—and you were actually associating yourself with others you once saw beneath you.

This... wasn't a good look, at least, not in your parents eyes.

"Why are you always sneaking away?" Your mother had asked. An odd question coming from her when she nor your father were never around. "Are you secretly dating someone?!"

Growing wide eyed, you shook your head. "No? I have an assignment I've been working on with a partner. We meet up together."

"Uh huh," your mother crossed her arms. "Don't think we don't notice these changes," she gestured at your figure. "Your attitude is becoming much too laid back and care free. You aren't on time like you used to be and you are becoming careless with your fashion! Are you on drugs?!"

"Mom! Of course not?!" You shrieked, narrowing your eyebrows at her accusation. "I'm not changing, I'm still me!"

"Yeah? Is that so?" Walking around the kitchen counter and pulling out something, your eyes widened at the sight of your (what once was hidden) vinyl records. "Satanic music!" She waved them as she approached you again, then handing them to your father who stood beside her. "I will not tolerate this!"

Watching your father snap the records, a sharp gasp left your lips as your eyes instantly welled up in tears. "That— That isn't satanic music! That's just music! It was a gift! How could you?!" You cried out as your body trembled at the broken pieces on the ground. A gift Choso had given you during one of your sessions after remembering you had a record player.

"You think we don't know what the hell this is?!" Your father finally spoke, shaking the two pieces in his hands. "You, sneaking around behind our backs?! You probably have been smoking pot in your room—"

"I'm not! It's just music, for heaven's sake—"

"Don't you raise your voice!" Your father snapped as you hiccuped.

"You— You two are being ridiculous! Over music?! You broke a gift someone important gave to me!" You exclaimed, chest heaving as the anger and rage boiled up within you. You were blinded that you hadn't realize the confession you made, too focused on the fact that they had destroyed the practically brand new vinyl you were afraid to touch because you wanted to preserve them. Yet, that went out the window. "All because you're too scared your perfect daughter isn't all about unicorns and rainbows anymore because she's a damn adult! I'm sick and tired of being someone you want me to be that I'm not!"

Hearing them scoff your name, you shook your head and turned to grab your keys, ignoring their yells as you stormed off. You didn't look back, slamming the main door of your home behind you before rushing into your car and speeding off. Your vision was blurred from the endless tears as you continuously wiped them away. You didn't seem to care about speed limits or being pulled over, you just wanted to get away as far as possible.

And as far as possible was at Choso's.

You found yourself crying into his chest the moment he had opened the door. He lead you to his couch—that you grew familiar with—and settled you there before coming back with tissues and water. He wiped your tears as you explained what happened, whimpering along the way as Choso frowned for you. The more he learned about you, the more he knew you were just a bystander of your parents ruthless grip. He was sure the person you had been becoming around him was the woman inside begging for freedom... and to see you cry like this? Sobbing over the gifts he gave you and snap at your parents? His heart was aching. 

At some point, a worried Yuji came waddling in with a plush toy—one you learned to be his favorite—as he handed it to you for comfort. Claiming it made him feel better when he was sad. You thanked the little boy as you caressed his cheek before hugging his tiny body. He couldn't help but stay lingering, sitting beside you in hopes you'd feel better.

"You're welcome to come over whenever you want," Choso offered. "Even if I'm not here, I have a spare key hidden under my front mat. Not wise, I know, but things happen."

Smiling at him as you sipped at the water Choso had handed you, you shook your head, "I couldn't... I don't want to intrude."

"Believe me, you're not," he said, looking you in the eyes with a worried expression. "I rather you feel safe and wanted here than anxious and afraid in what's supposed to be your own home."

Looking down for a moment at the stuffed Spider-Man in your hold, you then looked over at Choso, "thank you."

"You can sleep over!" Yuji exclaimed as he bounced in his spot. "We can watch a movie and—and eat popcorn!"

Looking over at the eager, little boy, you let out a soft chuckle, "okay, Jiji." Seeing him clap in excitement, he pushed himself off the couch and rushed away to his room.

"I'll get you something to sleep in, and you can stay in my bed," Choso stood as you turned your attention to him, watching him walk away. Before you could protest, he waved his hand, "don't worry about it. I've fallen asleep plenty on the couch with Yuji."

Choso's clothes were even baggier on you. The shirt was a dress and the sweats he offered hung so loosely you had to tie them up with a spare hair tie. However, you didn't seem to mind. They were comfortable and they... smelled like him. You hated to admit it, but the times you've got whiffs of him, you indulged. He smelled so good, like fresh laundry. There was a hint of spice, maybe the subtle cologne he used or the possibility that he liked his home smelling like the fall. Whatever it was, it filled your senses as you lied on his bed and it... made you feel safe.

After watching a movie with Yuji—which he chose to be Big Hero 6–you retired for the night. Choso gave you brand new toiletries to use as needed as well as clothes, telling you to feel free and use whatever you needed. It made you feel... wanted. You hadn't felt like this in so long. Sure, your friends were wonderful people, but even then you hadn't felt like this. You couldn't quite describe it, really. Besides the feeling of being noticed and needed, even if it was subtle, there was that thing bubbling within you that only Choso ignited.

Turning on your side and seeing the analog alarm clock on his bedside table, you sighed. It was half past midnight and, for some reason, you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was being in someone else's bed. Maybe it was your parent's words. Whatever it was, it had you getting up and wrapping a throw over your body as you aimed for the living room.

Gently nudging Choso as he seemed sound asleep, resting on his back as he took the entire length (and more) of the couch, you frowned. "Choso..." You whispered.

Mumbling and groaning, the sound made you blush as he peeked an eye, "what is it?"

"Sorry... I can't sleep..." you confessed. "Umm... can you... can you come back to bed with me? Maybe having someone there will make me feel at ease..."

Rubbing his eyes as he sat up, Choso grabbed the pillow he slept with and tossed the blanket over the cushions before following you to his room without a word. Maybe it was because he was half asleep, but he so easily slipped into his bed, lifted the sheets for you to join him, and casually spooned you from behind. You were flustered at first—of course! But then you eased into his warmth with a pleasant sigh as you closed your eyes.

Only to open them at the sound of faint whimpering.

Sitting up, you looked around the room, only to see Yuji standing at the foot of the bed—one arm wrapped around his Spider-Man plush as his other had his tiny hand balled into a fist, rubbing his eye. "Yuji?" You quietly called to him. "What's the matter?"

"Nightmare..." he pouts. "Choco let's me sleep with him when I have them..."

"Oh," looking over at Choso and seeing he was dead asleep, you looked back at Yuji. A soft smile graced your lips before you waved a hand for him to join you. "C'mon, the more, the merrier."

Crawling up to you as you helped settle him in between you and Choso, you pulled the quilt over the two of you before petting his hair, telling him to sleep well. That he was safe.

Just like you.

Morning had come and you woke up to both Yuji and Choso gone from the bed. You went to do your (simplified) morning routine as you washed your face and brushed your teeth. Once exiting the room, you were greeted with breakfast—Yuji happily nomming away as Choso looked as if he were about to leave somewhere.

"Morning," you greeted as Yuji patted the seat beside him—in which a full plate of food sat. "Where you headed off to?" Eyeing Choso and seeing he was in a pair of black jeans and a band tee—with his beloved Doc Marten's and hair in its spiked buns—you tilted your head.

"I've got work," he said. You recalled him mentioning he worked at a record shop (see broken vinyls that were once your prized possession from him). "I have to take Yuji to a family friend to babysit—"

"Oh, let me," you offered. "It's the least I could do. Let it be my thank you," you nodded. "I'd have to get some stuff from my place but I can bring him with me. I'm sure Yuji wouldn't mind."

Nodding his head eagerly, Choso looked at his little brother, then you, "alright, I guess that's okay. I'll have to let Nanami know."

"Nanamin will get why!" Yuji waved his tiny hand. "Choco's pretty friend will babysit! She's now Yuji's best friend!"

"What about Megumi and Nobara?" Choso asked as he leaned over Yuji to steal some of his bacon, earning a swat from the little boy.

"They— They are!" He exclaimed. "But now I have an older best friend!"

Smiling at them, you gave Yuji's cheek a gentle pinch, "I'd happily be your best friend."

"Yay!" He clapped before sticking his tongue out at Choso.

"Okay, okay," Choso waved a hand. "I'll go ahead and put his car seat in your car so you have it ready."

"Okay, thanks," you said as you began to eat. You couldn't help but feel excited to spend the day with Yuji... as odd as that sounded. He was an entertaining little boy and he really seemed to love you like his own blood.

"Okay, Yuji," You said as the little boy gawked at the size of your home, calling it a castle. You showed him around the house, even your backyard, before you made your way up to your room. "I'm going to shower and then we can head back to your home, okay?"

"Okay!" Yuji's muffled voice called out as he had now found himself stuffed in the horde of plush toys on your bed. He couldn't help but toss himself in it the moment he saw them all. You didn't mind, whatever made the boy happy.

"Stay there, alright?" You pointed as he rolled over and nodded, only to spot a pink dog. "Yeah, has your color, huh?"

"Same hair!" He pointed at his head, earning a sweet chuckle from you.

"I'll be quick," at that, you closed the door and took a quick shower. You folded up the clothes Choso leant you and reminded yourself to wash them at his place so your parents weren't suspicious if you left them at home.

Changing into a pair of grey leggings and an oversized, white hoodie that had TOKYO written across the chest in varsity letters, you slipped on socks and exited the bathroom. Just as you reached for a pair of sneakers, you noticed Yuji was knocked out on the plushes. Smiling, you slipped the shoes on, grabbed your tote bag that you filled with your things—plus Choso's clothes—then reached for Yuji and held him against you as he rested against your shoulder.

Careful enough to leave your home and shut the door quietly, you put him back into his car seat and buckled him in before you went for the drivers seat and made your way back to Choso's.

That afternoon was quite busy. You finished up your assignments that were due the following week, did some cooking for lunch that you enjoyed with Yuji, played with him and watched movies, then cooked again for dinner. For the most part, Choso's fridge was filled with a lot of children's food. The occasional fruit and vegetable, too. But a lot of kiddie portions. He truly cared for his little brother, it warmed your heart how attentive he was. How responsible and how much of an effort he put into Yuji's life.

After dinner, you took Yuji for a small walk to get some fresh air and enjoy the sunset. You sat at a park bench for a bit and talked about his favorite TV shows and video games before you walked hand in hand back to his home.

Watching some episodes of a TV show you loved as a kid—one Yuji never knew of—the two of you dozed off on the couch. This was what Choso came home to.

His heart raced at the sight, you with Yuji curled up against you as you shared a blanket. A small smile grew on his lips as he took his shoes off and quietly walked over. Carefully lifting up Yuji, ready to put him to bed—as it seems you had already taken care of bathing, brushing his teeth, and changing him into his pajamas—you squirmed awake. "Good evening, princess."

Sighing, you stretched before sitting up. "Hi."

"You can stay again, if you'd like," Choso offered but you shook your head with a gentle smile.

"I should go home... even though my parents don't seem to care as I haven't received a single phone call or text," you sighed, standing up to gather your things before walking to his front door.

Following you, Choso opened the door for you with his free hand as his other kept Yuji against his shoulder. "Like I said before, you have a place to stay here."

Looking up at him as you felt your heart flutter, you smiled again. A silence washed upon you two as you quietly gazed at one another. Tiptoeing, you gave his cheek a sweet, lingering kiss, before settling back, "thank you."

Eyeing you as his focus flickered between your eyes and your lips, Choso felt himself leaning forward, just about ready—

Feeling Yuji squirm, Choso straightened his posture as you blushed, waving goodbye before exiting his apartment. "Yeah... goodnight, princess..."

"...and then... I kissed his cheek. After that, I could've sworn we would've, you know..." you waved your hand, "kissed..."

"Kissed?!" Yuki exclaimed as you shyly nodded, blushing. You had told her everything from your parents wrongfully snapping at you, to you staying with Choso... up until you left the following day. Which had been yesterday. "Why didn't you?!" She gasped as she leaned towards you.

The two of you sat on a bench out in the main, open courtyard, usually doing this after your shared class before moving onto your next one. "I— I don't know... but, either way, I shouldn't..." you sighed, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Why not?" Yuki furrowed her eyebrows.

"Because... it'll never work out. We can't be together..." you trailed before sitting up with wide eyes. "Either way, it's not like I have feelings!"

Narrowing her eyes as she stared at you, Yuki shook her head, "I think you're lying. You wouldn't be this way if you didn't feel anything for him. You've changed, in a good way. You're telling me you stayed in his home, in the same bed... and feel nothing? The fact that you ran to him before thinking of anyone else, like... me?! And then you two almost kiss?! Come on!" She threw her hands up before slumping in her seat. "You've gotta follow your heart, and it's clear what she wants."

Turning your focus away from her, your heart skipped a beat. In the distance, you spotted the man of the hour walking alongside Mahito and Suguru. Swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as he noticed you, you shyly waved with a faint smile as he reciprocated the action.

Grinning at the sight, Yuki nudged your knee with hers, "can't knock it till you try it."

After the incident with your parents, you found yourself showing up at Choso's much earlier than normal. He didn't question, knowing very well you were avoiding your parents, simply welcoming you in (more like Yuji shoving his older brother to a side to hug your legs and shriek your name). You truly have grown to love Yuji more and more after each passing interaction.

You and Choso finished your work earlier than usual, deciding to sit together and watch some TV with Yuji sat in between. Usually, he was playing with his toys or Switch, but he always made time to be with you. Even if he was in the middle of using his brother's phone to FaceTime his two best friends. As you were in the midst of watching comedy reruns, Yuji was in the middle of squealing and laughing, talking loudly as one of his best friends—Nobara—basically met his level of excitement. You had actually met his two best friends a few times after Yuji had them over. You learned that Nobara was like his long lost twin while Megumi was the level headed one of the three. Usually quiet, but every now and then showed his own wave of emotions that almost matched the other two.

"Say hi!" Yuji said as he lifted the phone to your face.

"H— Hi, you two," you waved as you gently pushed the phone back so you could see them properly.

"Hi!" Nobara waved happily, sitting up in her seat and giving you a toothy grin.

"Hello," Megumi shyly waved as you chuckled. Yuji claimed Megumi had a crush on you, but you liked to think he was just timid. (Though, you weren't sure how, when his parents—who you had met that same day you had met him—were the complete opposite of him).

Suddenly with his eyes glued on the TV and practically dismissing his best friends, Yuji pointed, "a festival!" He said, watching the ad that appeared on the screen. "Choco, can we go?" He asked, wide eyes looking up at his big brother while kicking his legs in excitement. "All three of us?!

"Sure, if she wants to," Choso said as he ruffled Yuji's hair before the little boy looked up at you, awaiting your response.

"Oh, of course!" You nodded before bringing the phone back to the little boy's attention. "We can go Friday night." Already distracted by his best friends, you let out a small laugh before looking at Choso who shrugged.

The upcoming days went by like a breeze. To your luck, your parents were away on a business trip (without telling you until your mother's assistant left you a text). You rolled your eyes and didn't seem to care, you were used to being on your own rather than have a set of parents around to raise you. It was something that haunted you during your late night thoughts. However, unlike before, you had two people that made your days seem a lot better. Two people you felt as if you could breathe around and not have to worry about proper etiquette and perfect manners.

Friday had finally arrived and your classes came and went. You had met Choso at his place and carpooled with him after letting Yuki know where you'd be. The girls had made last minute plans to go to the movies but, like the great person she was, Yuki offered to make an excuse for you. No one but her knew how close you had grown to Choso. It wasn't like you were... intentionally hiding it, it was known he was your partner. However, you didn't think it needed to be known. It wasn't like you were a couple.

Now enjoying your time at the festival, playing games together (in which Choso had to help Yuji), eating great food and riding some rides, you had won Yuji a tiger plushy that was the size of him. He was a happy boy, but the smile on his face was wider than you had ever seen. He thanked you profusely as he hugged it tight and decided to name it after you (you didn't mind, it was a cute gesture).

Now seated on the ferris wheel as you eyed the environment around you, Yuji sat in between you and Choso as he watched the fireworks with stars in his eyes. You couldn't help but look at Choso with a gentle smile as he looked at you. Soft gazes being exchanged as you felt your heart race, blushing before the two of you looked away. You hated how fast your heart would beat within your chest whenever the two of you made eye contact. It made your stomach turn each time... Maybe Yuki was on to something when she said listen to your heart. As obvious of advise as it was.

"I had a great night," you said as you were now back at Choso's place, standing before your car as he held a sleeping Yuji in one arm and his giant stuffed tiger in the other. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Don't thank me, thank Yuji," he nudged his head towards the sleeping little boy, causing you to chuckle. "I'm glad you came. I would say it must be lonely going back home, but you must be used to it."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed. "But at least I had fun and I can think about that if I get in my head," you tapped your temple, earning a small smile from Choso. "I hope to do something like that again."

"Yeah, me too..." he nodded, eyeing you.

A silence weaved before the two of you as your eyes gazed into one another's. Taking in deep breaths as you could hear the blood pumping within your ears, you tugged Choso down by the collar of his shirt as your lips pressed against his own. Your other hand slid into his hair, through the loose bun he held it in as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. You didn't think much into it, actually, you felt you were in a fever dream as your tongue slid against his bottom lip before his tongue met your own.

As if you realized what you had just done, you pulled away and took a small step back, looking down at Yuji's resting body before wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "Sorry— I shouldn't have done that. I need to go." Without hesitating, you turned and rushed to the driver seat of your car, leaving Choso with a heart thudding in his chest and confusion floating around his head.

Then Monday came around. You had the intention to act like nothing happened when you met up at his place, casually conversing with Yuji and enjoying your time before you got to work. However, Choso was on a different boat. You were breaking out of that disguise and showing your real self, and having you kiss him said a lot. Why the hell would he act like it didn't happen when you clearly wanted it?

"Stop looking at me like that," you said as you typed away.

"How do you expect me to?" Choso asked.

"By looking away?" You shrugged but Choso rolled his eyes, closing your laptop as you gasped. "Hey—"

"I don't know who you've been with before, how your past relationships or whatever were like, but I don't do hookups or whatever the hell the kiss on Friday initiated. You tried acting like nothing happened these past three days, even though you were clearly avoiding me and my messages. Yuji wanted to take you to the aquarium yesterday and you simply left me on read only to answer hours later—"

"Oh, god, it was just a dumb kiss!" You rolled your eyes.

"So dumb that there was tongue?" Choso lifted an eyebrow.

"I got carried away, alright? It meant nothing," you clarified, but the sudden tremble in your tone was a dead giveaway.

"So if I kissed you right now, it wouldn't do anything? You'd feel nothing?" He asked as you nodded.

"Do your worst, I don't see you in any other light. You should be happy I've started considering you as a good fri—" before you could complete your sentence, Choso's hand was on the back of your neck as his lips crashed onto your own. His tongue was quick to slip past your teeth as it met yours in a frenzy. You, at first, tried pushing him away. However, the grip you had on his sweater only pulled him closer as your laptop nearly fell onto the floor if Choso hadn't moved it in time.

Desperately kissing one another as your noses bumped and saliva smeared, you breathed against one another. As both of you clung onto each other, the sound of Yuji's voice calling out for his big brother caused you to push him off of you as you wiped your lips. "I should go," you panted, gathering your things as Choso watched you.

"Wait—"

"It's getting late, my parents should be back," you said as you aimed for his front door, not bothering to look back.

"Fuck..." he breathed as he sunk into his seat, rubbing his face before Yuji called his name again.

A week passed since the second kiss. It was almost as if there was an unspoken rule not to kiss nor touch as you spent your meet ups with a safe distance apart. You didn't bring anything up, of course not, and Choso was too conflicted to figure out what the hell he should do. He knew you were stubborn, and if he wanted something with you, he knew it wasn't going to be easy. There were still layers protecting you and if he tried anything, he was afraid you were going to resort back to square one and hate him again.

So, he let it be... as much as it was eating him alive knowing you definitely felt something for him as he did for you. It was probably why things were awkward, as much as both of you tried to avoid being such way.

Choso was seated at your desk as you were nestled on your bed. It had been a while since he was in your home and the only reason why he was there was due to an annual inspection at his apartment building. If it hadn't been happening, you two would've been social distancing on his couch instead.

"Finally," you breathed, tossing yourself back on your bed. "We finished."

Looking over at you, the way your shorts clung onto your thighs and how your sweater rode up to expose a piece of your belly, Choso sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck it."

Sitting up on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed, "wha—" Choso was suddenly on top of you. You let out a gasp as he practically pinned you on your bed. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, but the second you felt his lips on yours, they fluttered close. Your palms tried to push against him, but the sensation filling you—the nights of endless dreams of Choso—you couldn't help but succumb. Your hands slipped through his hair, tugging at the loose strands as your lips parted for him.

Kissing you deeply as his tongue glided across your own, tracing every inch of your mouth as you tugged on his hair, Choso felt you wrap one of your legs around his waist. Lowering himself on you before rolling you over to straddle him, you subconsciously began grinding your hips against his as your tongue reached for his again.

Just as you felt Choso's hands reach under your sweater, your door slammed open. Your heart was pounding faster than ever as the sounds of your father screaming echoed in your head. He came rushing in with rage in his eyes as he ripped you off of Choso. Your breathing somehow seemed louder than the yelling beside you as your vision began to blur. From one second to the next, you were shoved back behind your father as he grabbed Choso by the collar and yelled in his face.

The voice of your father and now your mother as she stood by the door in pure shock that turned into disgust, muffled as you tried reaching out for Choso as he was shoved towards the door. "Choso! Wait!" You called out but your father blocked you. "Stop— No! Choso!" Your blurred vision was forced to look back at your father as he  spat out his disappointment in you. Saying you will never see that boy again as long as you lived under his roof. How he blamed Choso for the person you were becoming and how you were forbidden to leave the house unless you told them exactly where you were going.

It was absolutely childish, you were an adult! But that wasn't what had you the most devastated, no, it was the fact that—yes, you had fallen for Choso and things were never going to be the same.

"How long has it been?" Yuki asked as she sat before you at her dinner table.

"9 days," you sighed, rubbing your temples as you sunk into your seat. Yuki basically became your therapist as she knew just about everything that's been happening between you and Choso. As exhausting as it was, she was rooting for you two. She was hoping for the best but hearing how things just kept getting out of hand, she couldn't help but worry for you. "He's avoiding me now. He's blocked my number. Couldn't call nor text him." Groaning as you leaned your forehead into your palm, you shook your head.

"You need to tell him," she said but you shook your head again. "You've gotta find a way. He can't be avoiding you for no reason."

"If I tell him I'm sure he won't say he feels the same. He's doing this for my sake, I can tell... I just—" sucking in a deep breath, you frowned, "it shouldn't have ended up this way."

"Well, you can't control your heart from falling so deeply for someone, can you?"

"Choco! You are smoking again!" Yuji stomped as he eyed his older brother who had just walked in from the balcony. "You promised you'd stop!"

"I know," Choso sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

"You broke your promise!" The little boy pouted. "It's not good for you! It makes you stinky and can kill you!"

"I know, Yuji—"

"I will stop eating candy if you stop smoking!" The pink haired boy pointed as Choso sighed.

"No, you won't—"

"And why haven't I see my best friend? It's been too long, Choco!" Yuji furrowed his eyebrows as he crossed his arms. Choso knew he meant you.

"I don't know..." the older man groaned, as if feeling a headache coming. He was used to his little brother's nonstop talking and pestering... but today, he wasn't having any of it.

"Liar! You are always talking to her! I miss her and you stopped having her over!"

"Enough!" Choso snapped as Yuji instantly flinched. His bottom lip pursed out as his eyes began to water. His tiny body trembled before he turned and ran to his room. "Dammit... I—" going after him and finding a lump under the sheets that was shaking, Choso frowned. "Yuji, I'm sorry." Seeing the giant stuffed tiger sticking out from under the sheets, Choso gently pulled the blanket back. "I didn't mean to snap on you... I just..." taking a seat on the bed as he eyed Yuji, Choso rubbed Yuji's back. "I can't see her anymore... which means you can't, either."

"But... I miss... her..." Yuji sniffled into the stuffed toy.

"Me too..." lying back on the bed as he looked at the ceiling, Choso felt Yuji shift beside him as Yuji sat up.

"Why can't we see her?" He asked.

"It's complicated..." Choso answered as he rubbed his face.

"Do you love her?" Yuji tilted his head as he held the stuffed tiger beside him.

Feeling his heart skip a beat, Choso rolled onto his side and eyed his little brother. "I do."

A gasp left the pink haired boy as he scooted closer. "Well, if you love her, you shouldn't give up," Yuji said as he gave Choso a hopeful smile. "You should go see her and tell her!"

A heavy knock sounded on Yuki's door as you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at it. "Are you expecting someone?" You asked.

"No, but you are," she said as she leaned back in her seat, stretching her arms above her with a sigh.

"Huh?" You shook your head as your confused expression deepened.

"Go open the door," Yuki nudged her chin.

Unsure as to why you listened, you let out a huff before pushing back your seat and standing up. "I don't know what you have up your sleeve... it better not be my parents. They know I'm here, you'd think they'd believe me..." you mumbled to yourself as you opened the door, expecting two unwanted faces... instead, getting one you had been aching to see. "Choso?"

Seeing the way your eyes widened as he stood before you at Yuki's apartment door, drenched in rain water as a nightly shower had rolled in, Choso felt his heart race as he reached for your face and pulled you into a sudden kiss. His beating heart grew faster as he so desperately clung onto you, but your palms instantly pressed against his chest and shoved him back.

Seeing the look of shock now on his face, you clenched your teeth, "you— you think you can just come out of nowhere and—"

Pulling you back into this kiss as his hands tug onto your wrists, Choso silenced your complaints with his own words. "I love you," he breathed against your lips, kissing them repetitively. "I love you," kiss, "I love you," kiss, "I fucking love you," kiss. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he nearly whispered as he pressed his forehead against your own as you stood stunned before him. "I was scared. You deserve better than me. I believed you were too good for me. We are from such different worlds and you deserved someone like you. That's why I avoided you. But, fuck, I've never felt this miserable being away from you. You were all I could think about. Dream about. I missed you. I missed your smile and laugh. The smell of your perfume. Seeing you being your genuine self around me. I missed having you around and caring for Yuji. Fuck, why do we do this to ourselves?" Choso breathed. "You avoided me, I avoided you. We let everything that doesn't matter affect us but I don't give a damn about what anyone else says, I love you and I want you. I want to be with you. I—"

Reaching for the back of his head as you tilted your own, you kissed him, now being the one to silence him. "I love you, too," you confessed before wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tight. "I do... I was scared, too. Of everything. But you bring out the best in me, you make me happy, Choso... I want you just as bad."

"Finally!" Yuki groaned as she stood from her seat. "Having Choso's number was handy."

Looking over at her as you had nearly forgotten where you were, you blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, just me being the greatest friend and telling Choso where you were and making sure you two finally get together. It was exhausting seeing how things were going all because of lack of communication and fear and how ridiculous your parents are. You're an adult, they can't stop you from who you love," she rolled her eyes with a wave of her hand. "Now go on and leave with Choso and have fun. You can thank me later," she shooed as you and Choso backed up before she closed the door on you.

"Uh..." you stared at the door before looking up at him, seeing him shrug.

"She had been texting me for a while. I was actually a bit confused but then I started seeing her on campus when you weren't around and we got along pretty well. So I figured she'd know your whereabouts, asked her where you were, and luckily you were with her. This would've been much harder if you were home, but I would've done it anyway," he explained as you smiled.

"This is the most I've ever heard you speak," you teased as he shook his head. It was then you remembered he was still soaking wet and you were still outside just barely covered from the rain. "Let's go back to your place before you get sick."

The second you arrived at his apartment—and learned Yuji was staying at Nanami's with this last minute decision to see you—Choso was quick to pull you back into a kiss. You had tried to stop him, telling him he should dry up, but Choso instead started undressing right before you in between kisses. His black tee that clung to his body was the first to go, revealing his toned chest that you so quickly went to touch, feeling his abs underneath your fingertips. Then, he went for his sweat pants, kicking them to a side before he went for your clothes. You couldn't quite process what was happening, your head was spinning from the kissing (and the fact that he was in nothing but his boxer briefs before you). Before you knew it, all that covered you was your underwear as Choso left delicate kisses down your neck and collarbone.

Now standing before his bed as he held your hands in his, Choso pressed his forehead against yours as the two of you stood in silence, listening not only to the rain trickle, but your shared breathing. "I'm not that bad of person, am I?

"No," you shook your head. "I was a fool. I'm sorry..."

"Doesn't matter anymore," he mumbled, "you love me and I love you. That's all I care about. What's in the past is in the past, I love everything about you, and I'm glad I got to peel away those layers," he smiled as you did, too. "May we?"

"Mhm," hummed, "yes... please."

Reaching behind to unclasp your bra before slowly removing it from your body, Choso then lifted you up and settled you on his bed, tugging down your underwear. Bare and exposed to him as your heart raced and chest heaved, you were just about ready to cover yourself, but Choso's lips beat you to it. He kissed along your chest and bare breasts, down your belly and to your thighs. He parted your knees and admired the way your bare pussy glistened for him.

Watching with hooded eyes as he licked his lips, you swallowed as you clung to his bed sheets. Your eyes followed the way his figure lowered to his knees, how he kissed closer and closer to your heat before leaving a sweet peck on your clit.

Reaching one hand up, Choso interlaced his fingers with yours before he licked a broad strip up your cunt, moaning at the taste of you as you shivered. He felt your free hand slide into his dark locks as you let out a shaky breath the moment his tongue teased your entrance, only to make its way back to your aching nub. Choso smiled at the way your hand tugged at his hair to push on his head, further burying his face against you. Swirling his tongue around your clit, he made his way towards your hole before teasing it once again.

"Choso, please, stop teasing..." you begged with a breathy tone.

"Anything for you, baby." Plunging his tongue in you as he fucked you slow, he pulled away to play with your clit before two of his finger pushed into you. The sounds you made had his grip tightening around your hand as his other thrusted his fingers in and out of you.

Your toes curled as you felt that burning desire within you ready to explode. "Ch— Choso, I'm gonna—" but before you could finish, he pulled his fingers out, replacing his tongue with his thumb on your clit. Feeling his tongue sink into once again, Choso was more than ready to lap up your juices as you came on his face with a shaky moan.

Taking in as much of you as he could, groaning in delight at the taste, Choso released your hand before he crawled over you and slid his tongue past your mouth to share your essence. He listened to you hum as your shaky hands reached for his briefs and tugged them down. Helping you as he removed the remaining piece of clothing on his body, he felt your hands caress the side of his thighs before reaching in between the two of you.

Gliding your tongue along his as you so sweetly wanted to swallow each other whole, your hands wanted to feel the weight of him on them. You gently began to rub at his length, already knowing it was going to a bit of a hassle to have him fill you just by the feel of his bare cock in your palm. You pumped him slowly, brushing your thumb over his slit as his breath hitched against your lips. "Fuck me, please," you quietly begged. "I want you, I love you."

Separating from the kiss as he gently peeled your hand away from him before he could come on your hand (which he was sure would happen in any second) he brought you deeper into the bed before he reached for his drawer. That is until you stopped him. "What is it?" He asked, heart dropping. Were you having second thoughts?

"I want you bare," you breathed. "Please..."

"Are— Are you sure?" He asked as you nodded. "I'll pull out."

"No," you shook your head, giving him a look as if saying it was okay.

Blushing, Choso nodded, "okay." Wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned himself with you, Choso slowly sunk into your tightness as a hiss left him. You reached up and held onto his shoulders as he bottomed out, pausing for a moment as he rested his forehead against yours.

"It's okay," you breathed before giving him a small peck to the cheek.

Pulling back slowly, Choso began thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. He littered your face with kisses as your eyes fluttered closed. Kissing down your neck and chest, he brought one hand up to fondle with one of your breasts. Giving the other some attention as he sucked at the skin and left red blotches in his wake, faint bites and kisses too, he brought your nipple into his mouth as he began to pick up his pace.

"Faster," you breathed as Choso did so. He thrusted deeply into you, giving your breasts equal attention. Kissing and licking, biting and marking, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing him. Your hands tugged on his hair, the sweetest sounds leaving your lips as he fucked into you in a way that made your heart flutter. He wasn't trying to break you nor fuck you into the next life. No, he was loving you in a physical way to prove just how deep his feelings ran for you. The languid movements of his hips, the kisses against your body, the way he brought his hands into yours as he whispered his love for you into your ear. You swore you could hear angels singing. The tears brimming in your eyes and staining your face as you felt this wave of pure ecstasy wash all over you.

You had never come like this before, almost in unison as you felt your mind, body, and soul becoming one with his. You must've been in heaven, up in the clouds. It was almost ethereal. He filled you so deeply before his body nearly gave out and collapsed on yours.

He needed a moment as he stayed in you. Catching his breath before pulling out and falling beside you. Tugging you to him as his lips lazily met yours in the loveliest, sloppiest kiss, Choso ran his fingers through your hair as he mumbled sweet nothings against your lips.

"I love you," you breathed, nuzzling your face against his chest before looking up at him. Caressing his hair then rubbing your thumb along his nose and cheeks, you gave him a sleepy smile. "You're so handsome..."

Giving you the same smile, Choso caressed your forehead, placing his hand on the back of your neck as he kissed you once more, "you're beautiful..." he muttered. "So pretty... I'm so damn lucky..."

"Me too..." Enjoying the silence shared between you as you felt yourself more than ready to fall asleep, you then forced yourself up as you remembered something. "Choso! Your hair is still soaking wet!"

Letting out a small laugh, he sat up and reached for your hands, tugging you out of the bed with him, "then let's share a shower and you can dry my hair."

"Oh, I so won the bet against Gojo," Mei Mei said as she stood beside Utahime.

"Kinda predictable, but at least she's happy," Utahime said.

"And I helped!" Yuki beamed as the three of them watched you walk hand in hand with Choso across the courtyard of the campus. The biggest smile was on your face as Choso gazed down at you, almost as if it were a scene ripped from a rom-com.

"Ladies, now that Choso is taken, I'm available—"

"Save it, Mahito," Yuki raised a hand as the other two women beside her simply ignored the man. A laugh left Suguru as he was trailing beside Mahito, instantly gaining Yuji's attention. "But if Suguru is available..." teasing him with a wink, Suguru's eyes widened. "Men are so easy to toy with."

ONE YEAR LATER.

It was almost impossible to keep your hands to yourself. You always found yourself twirling Choso's hair around your finger, giving his bicep a small squeeze, hugging his arm, placing your palm on his thigh... it was rare for you not to be right beside him. Choso didn't mind, he never did, he loved how your touches felt. He welcomed them, actually. When you weren't touching him, even in the slightest way, he felt off. As if something was missing.

You didn't seem to care where you were. If he wasn't around, you'd patiently wait to see him again, knowing very well it would be you jumping him into a hug or pulling him into a needy kiss. You weren't sure who you had become within the year you had been with Choso, but it was so freeing.

Especially being able to do it in front of your parents.

They were not happy when they found out you had been secretly dating him for months without telling them, but their reaction didn't phase you. Actually, you were in the midst of moving out. Choso had offered you to stay with him—and although you were a bit worried at first—you couldn't have been any happier with your decision. Away from the two most troublesome people in your life, now living with the person you most adored, and your tiny best friend, Yuji. Yuji was the most ecstatic when he learned the news of you moving in. Already planning out things to do with you like movie nights and games to play together as well as other little things that made the boy happy.

Overall, you were happier than ever. Freer than a bird. And seeing the look of disgust on your parents face at dinner did nothing to stop you.

You didn't know why you did it, maybe it was because they were your parents, and maybe since you were a good person, you still visited every now and then. However, it was almost always with Choso. And they couldn't do anything about it.

"Well, we have to go pick up Yuji," you said as you stood from the now cleared out dinner table.

Choso followed in your lead as he felt you slip your hand into his. He was already used to your parents at this point and didn't bat an eyelash to their judgmental looks. Though, they were... improving. Slowly. The glares and scowls weren't so bad anymore. Wasn't his fault their little princess of a daughter fell in love with a terror like him. He loved her more than anything in the universe and nothing would change that. "Good night and thank you for dinner."

Gathering your purse and cardigan from where they hung, Choso opened the front door for you as the two of you walked right out. These nights always ended this way, you never waited for a response or some sort of action. In reality, these gatherings never lasted more than an hour. There wasn't much to say or do besides eat...

Climbing into Choso's car as the two of you let out a laugh you had been holding in, you gave his cheek a kiss before he backed out of the driveway and made his way to Nanami's. "It's the way your mom looks so disturbed when you hold my hand."

"And how my father bites his tongue whenever I give you the smallest of kisses," you chuckled. "A year and you'd think they'd move on. That's what happens when you have one kid. They should've had more."

"It's alright, they'll find a way to accept it... Eventually. In a decade or so," he said as you sighed, reaching over to hold his hand while resting your head against the seat.

"Whatever, at least my grandparents like you. My grandmother is always asking for you when I do my weekly calls," you snickered as Choso smirked. "She doesn't get why my mother is the way she is. She blames my father. Oh well, at least we've got their support."

"And our friends," he added.

"Mhm," you smiled. "That's all I need."

Eventually arriving at Nanami's home, you were greeted by said blond man trailing behind an excited pink haired boy. Yuji always had a habit of rushing out the moment you arrived, practically glued to the window whenever Nanami announced you two were on your way.

Helping the little boy into his car seat, both you and Choso greeted and thanked Nanami before the man bowed his head and closed the door for Yuji. Said boy smiled at you as you turned to give his hair a little ruffle before poking his ribs gently. "How was Nanamin's?"

"Fun! He helped me with my homework and then we had dinner with his family and then we played uno!" He said as you grinned. "And you?"

"Not as fun as it is being around you," you pouted, earning a giggle from the little boy.

"Choco's not fun?" He asked, earning a sigh from his big brother.

"Of course he is, he makes it all the better. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't there," you sighed as Yuji lifted his eyebrows, only to grin.

"Then I think I know what you have to do to make sure Choco is always there!" Yuji clapped his hands.

"What is it?" You curiously asked as Choso looked over.

"Get married!" He exclaimed.

Looking at one another, Choso shrugged, "he's not wrong."

Playfully rolling your eyes, you readjusted yourself on your seat as you went back to holding his hand. "Well, then I'll be waiting for you to propose."

an: so you've made it this far? thank you so much! i promise you it was worth it... how are feeling? it's dramatic, i know, but i love drama and angst as much as i love smut and fluff... reblogs are much appreciated! xo

#haruno writes; #choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader

[narutocharacterpolls]

ROUND ONE

DEIDARA vs UCHIHA ITACHI

Reasons for submission under the cut

Deidara

he is an artist!

his clay models are cute, fun and dynamic!

cool hairstyle and sick eyeliner job

set up the mood for the rest of Shippuden with his introduction + fight with Gaara

4 mouths

wants to kill Oonoki

anti-nationalist

bombed several lands just for kicks

likes to appreciate art

faced Gai and his team ARMLESS armed with a kunai IN HIS MOUTH and escaped mostly unscathed

NANOBOMBS

trained one eye to counter attack genjutsus

likes birds and winged animals

fought against Sasuke (A HUGE honor of any character Kishi could have thrown at him he chose his GOAT 🫡)

deranged blue eyed blonde representation

can make his mouth hands make out anytime he wants, power move of the century

caught a Jinchuriki and a Bijuu all by himself

wears a crop top

wears black nail polish

lost both arms and didn't bat an eye

almost strangled Obito

explodes anytime he wants

beefed with Itachi

wanted to kill Orochimaru

long haired men

hates the government

he's annoying to everyone

youngest akatsuki member

hilarious one liners

intelligent, strategic, dramatic, hot, cool

looks like Ino

Itachi

he has one of the most compelling, gut-wrenching and beautiful sibling relationships in the entire anime

despite showing it in a peculiar way he does love Sasuke and honestly that's based

not to sound like a dudebro but his jutsu is honestly incredible and his fights are very interesting and entertaining to watch. Susano’o in particular is very beautiful as well

created Easter Kakashi. Lol

an incredibly intriguing and complex character, there's so many layers to Itachi and all of them are sad

he was groomed from the age of four because the Konoha Elders saw that he had such an intense reaction to witnessing war and realized that they could make use of that

loved his family deeply despite it all

is the reason behind one of the best plot lines and character (Sasuke) of the anime

he gave up his entire life because he thought this was the only way to guarantee Sasukes safety

he stayed with the akatsuki solely so that he could keep an eye on Konoha and Sasuke and to prevent the akatsuki from harming Sasuke by attacking Konoha

pushed Sasuke to his limit in their fight just to be able to get Orochimaru out of Sasuke for good

"you've studied a lot. You're like a snake expert now" is SO funny and he was so genuine about it

he was SO young and had so many voices telling him traumatizing things left and right, and that he was the only solution on both sides

truly genuinely made as one of the most heart breaking characters and character relations to exist

eye bags are real and relatable

men with long hair

bro's GORGEOUS

he was traumatized and manipulated since his childhood and deserved sm better

he just wanted to make eggs for his lil brother!

idiot fool boy

he's supposed to be a genius but his emotional intelligence is in the negatives

even his father recognized that he was a good kid and had good intentions when he found out about what Itachi was doing

malewife

#whoa…. deidara vs itachi……… this is just like the anime… #bestnrtcharapoll #naruto #polls #deidara #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #akatsuki #id in alt text

[misericordia-writing]

Lightning Bugs

"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙜𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚, 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙙-𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚.

𝙎𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙮, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙮, 𝘿𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙚𝙡 𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙’𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨."

Chapter 1 of Matchbook

Pairings: Danny Johnson/Gender-Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Angst, Fluff

Summary: A character exploration of Danny. I've noticed most fics make him super funny and sardonic, and while I love that, I imagine I'd have huge moral qualms about dating a serial killer. So I wrote this. Not particularly dark, but depressing? I don't know. I’m sorting things out. Probably super OOC. Enjoy.

TW for canon-typical violence, implications of mental illness, and unhealthy relationships/power imbalance (naturally)

Ao3: s://archiveofourown.org/works/45585013/chapters/114704077

    "I hate that you're right."

        The words come out quietly one night, while you're sitting on a muggy balcony that smells like cigarettes and acetone. The green-gray haze of Floridian night swamping you in swaths of gnats, only gently dissuaded by a mesh screen.

        A streetlamp flickers and dulls, the painted metal cart of a dollar store clinks against its siblings, and an old man sputters and coughs up into his shirt collar.

        "About what?"

        "About people. Humanity. Life. Society. That type of stuff." You say, balancing a bottle of black nail polish on your thigh while you try to paint your toes. "How it's just primal violence. You're pretty much right."

        He doesn't respond. Normally, you wouldn’t be allowed to talk about this stuff so openly, outside, where a neighbor could hear you. But everyone is busy tonight. You’re not too surprised that he’s memorized their schedules. Furtively scratching pens into notebooks almost every single second that he’s not busy playing out stories. Too enamored to eat or sleep or wash the dishes. ‘That’s one of the reasons I keep you around,’ he had said, in partial jest, as if you were his mid-century housewife.

        "Listen, I'm not just sucking up to you like some chick in a horror movie, trying to persuade the killer that she's on his side. As applicable as that may be. You're right. Genuinely."

        "I thought you were into all of that spirituality stuff. Being good. Reaching nirvana and donating to the thrift store." He mutters, methodically scraping the debris of last night out from under his nails. Jed has work tomorrow.

        Jed Olsen is who you signed up for, back when you were still a recent college graduate, finally having gotten to the 'good' part of your life. Feeling hopeful, cheery even. Watering your plants, picking up dandelions off the side of the road, smiling at strangers. Saving up to buy a nice house someday, with a garden and personal study. Somewhere you could bake in, read in, live in. Maybe even find someone to share it with.

        ‘You were just so sweet,’ He said one time, while you were in his car. He had locked the doors and told you that he just couldn’t trust you that much, yet. But soon.

        ‘Always so withdrawn, cautious. But sweet. Barely able to deal with playing nice to co-workers, but then turning your back and smiling at weeds in the cracks of a sidewalk. Surprising, considering the way you dress. All rock n’ roll, usually. Black looks good on you. That scraped-up Walkman attached to your hip. Diverse taste. I mean, the way you seamlessly went from Bauhaus to Blondie in the span of an hour was truly something.’ Sip.

        ‘All while performing an elaborate routine in your bedroom- complete with costume changes and a hairbrush microphone. You really could be a rockstar, sweetheart. Too bad though, I don’t think that’ll happen. Maybe in your next life.’

        He paused to look at his milkshake, then dipped a fry in it. ‘Different- odd and unusual, but not in the predicable early-twenty-year old way I see a lot. Talking to the spiders you would find in your room, politely asking them to leave. So observant and smart. But ultimately, I guess you just weren’t observant or smart enough, were you?’ He barked out a laugh, triumphantly.

        He was so charming, the way he would stop by your job before work. Monday through Friday. Pretending to think for a minute, before ordering the exact same coffee as he always did. Coincidentally loving the same books, talking with you about the new episode of a sitcom you had been watching the night before. Handsome, and only a few years older, with a degree from a similar program to yours under his belt. Good reputation, wonderful penmanship. Enthusiastic, kind- but with a quick wit.

        He made you feel special- which, apparently, you were. Just not in the way you’d think.

        "I am, still." You sigh, painting, the brush spreading smooth inky black across keratin. A drop of paint drips onto the skin of your foot.

        You scrape it away with the back of your fingernail and quickly dab it to a folded paper towel.

        "Danny." You say, looking at him. "Do you think I'm a bad person?"

        He tsks, as if the question offends him. "You really want me to be the judge on ethics? Are you forgetting who I am? What I do?" A gravelly punch dips the last syllable of each sentence, almost like a growl.

        "No," You say, "I'm just asking. Besides, I thought you thought you were right? Do you think that your actions are ethical? By your logic, that we are all inherently violent and terrible, then you wouldn't be evil for acting on that. My beliefs lie somewhere in the middle. Just curious."

        He pauses, dark eyes looking down into the parking lot. The man is gone, and the cart is pushed neatly back into its place.

        Sweltering heat. He smells like detergent, the good middle-of-the-road kind. Sticky notes. Cologne. Sweat. Iron.

        "No."

        You frown, looking down through the mesh as well. Lightning bugs light up the brush at the edge of the apartment complex. “Fireflies!” You say, with childish glee. You almost forget the crushing guilt for a minute, beaming down at the glowing shrubs.

        You’re eight again, bare feet padding through wet grass, trying to catch them in a jar. Somebody is having a barbeque, and you’re going to go to bed tired and happy tonight, with a dozen itchy mosquito bites down your legs.

        You wonder what eight-year-old you would think about this situation. You wish you could go back in time, tell yourself to never move to this god-forsaken red state.

        Surely, that way, Daniel Johnson would’ve never stumbled into your life, staining you with the blood on his hands.

        He still doesn’t say anything, other than a hum, so you sit back down. Finishing the last coat of paint on your smallest toe.

        The plastic weaving of the chair digs into the backs of your thighs, and you set the polish back down on the accent table. The thermometer reads 85 degrees Fahrenheit.

        “I hate myself.” You say, feeling every bitter moment and truth from your past bubble up at once. Every scrape, burn, and cut. “I don’t understand why you do what you do. It makes me feel guilty for you. Like I’m the one doing those things. Am I not just as bad? I don't try to stop you. I should.”

        You often feel that Danny’s twenty steps ahead of you. Just waiting for the right moment. Chess and checkers.

        A bead of sweat rolls down your back, the tank top you wear doing little to reduce the humidity. You stand up and walk to stand in front of him. “But yet here I am. I’m still surprised you haven’t killed me yet. You said you were going to. Why not?”

        “I probably will when the time is right." He looks up at you for a moment, pausing before looking back at the sky.

        "If it makes you feel any better, you don’t really have a choice in what I do, or a choice in being involved with me… I would find my way in, in any situation. This is probably just some type of Stockholm syndrome kicking in. So you survive. Fun, right? Your brain and body are doing the best they can to cope with the reality. Of your situation. Of how you feel about me. Really, you’re lucky. You think all of the others wouldn't have taken this opportunity? Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

        He swats a mosquito nonchalantly.

        “Yeah, I guess so.” You say, sitting down at the foot of his lawn chair. “Do you care about me?”

        “A little bit.” He says, gaze off to the side. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

        You laugh, though you aren’t sure if he was trying to be funny. Not that it was very funny in the first place.

        “For the record,” He says, “You’ve made it longer than anyone else has. Normally I lose interest. I’m not done watching you yet. I don’t know if I want to end your story. It’s my favorite.”

        “Well, if I’m nothing else, at least I’m a serial killer’s favorite 'story'.” You roll your eyes, but there isn’t too much sarcasm behind it.

        “You make me feel the way I feel when I kill, sometimes. I don’t know if I love you, because I don’t really believe in that stuff. But I like you more than most things.” He says, fingers reaching out to twirl a lock of your hair. 

        The same fingers that dig knives into people and then snap pictures of it after. That rip intestines out and turn them into party streamers. The same fingers that would’ve done the same thing to you, too. That still might.

        That fantasize about it, twitching sometimes when you turn your back. Itching to grab you by the throat and finally write a conclusion. Aching to make you a headline.

        Fingers that move down to your neck now, feeling the red pulse of your blood. Padding up to the side of your face and wiping a welling tear away from the corner of your eye.

        Fingers that have held your hair back when you puked, and gripped your hand firmly in public when you can’t find the clarity to process all the different sounds of a supermarket. Let you pick out your favorite candy at the video store, made popcorn with you on the stove.

        Pressed your favorite VHS into the player for the third time that week, not because he found it particularly groundbreaking, but because you couldn’t get out of bed to wash your hair or eat, and that stupid movie was- for whatever reason- the only thing capable of distracting you from the thought of pink-red water slotting down the drain of his porcelain white bathtub.

         “I feel that way too, sometimes.” You rasp. “Minus the whole killing people part. I don’t know if it exists. Love. At least, not as the thing people say it is. Really relates back to the animalistic nature thing, right? Do animals feel ‘love’? We are animals. I’ve felt things like love, but never what I’m supposed to. I wish I knew. Snakes like warm rocks. Do they love warm rocks?”

         “You’re probably never going to know.” He says, bluntly, nails scratching at your scalp. You wonder if he's only doing it to get the last flakes of dried blood out. You imagine little beams coming from his fingers, wiggling into your brain and picking out all of your synapses. Mapping your psyche.

       He probably would if he could, but then he might get bored and gut you for his collage.

        “Yeah,” You sigh, “I know. But… I love you. The closest to love I think I can.”

        “I know.” On anybody else, it would sound almost pitying.

        You know that even if he loved you, he would never say it. The words will not leave his mouth. But you feel loved. The way that he touches you, the way he presses against your back sometimes, in the middle of dark, foggy nights. Covers kicked off the bed, and a face pressed into your neck. Him keeping a box of special pictures under the bed, just of you, that you don’t think he knows you know about-  but maybe he knows that you know. Some of them from before you even met. Almost all of them when you weren’t looking.

        And later that night, when you’ve locked the screen door, and he’s meticulously arranged his piles of papers, looked through his hastily (passionately) scrawled designs one more time, and finished the laundry, you two lay down in the bed. As the moonlight streams down onto his face, dark hair reflecting its soft glow, you sigh. A hand reaches out to stroke his neck, and you wonder again why he does the things he does. He lets you. You can feel the heartbeat in his throat.

        Danny hates when he falls asleep before you, but you like it. So rarely do you get to see him off-guard- innocent and peaceful, brows finally unknitted. The little scar on his forehead that he keeps covered. The slow rise and fall of his stomach against you, occasionally an upper arm tensing over your shoulder. The way he rests his face in your hair, or the crook of your neck.

        Surprisingly cuddly, for a ruthless, taunting killer, who you know for a fact has slaughtered more than enough people to fill the  floor-plan of your shared apartment, probably, if you laid them down flat.

       ‘Thirty-two,’ he’d grinned, proud of himself. ‘Not many others can say the same, can they?’

        You grimaced. ‘No, I suppose not.'

        Your stomach churns again, before you drift off. You dream about fireflies and going to prison. People screaming and swimming in a pink-red bathtub. Sometimes you think it would be easier if he had just killed you the way he planned. Maybe you wouldn’t feel so guilty for being alive, then.

        If you could go back in time, you would fix him. You like to tell yourself that, sometimes. That you could change his outcome, and the fates of dozens of others as well. You would treat him right, never let the sickness twist his mind. Stop his father from planting a seed of despair and overwhelming hatred in his heart. Let him be ignorant and happy, watch the news. Not make the news.

        Maybe you would have a nice house together, if it were Jed, and you could make lemonade and watch fireworks together. Kiss him on the cheek and watch him smile. Have deep conversations that take all night, but never reach past the abstract and theoretical, into the realm of reality. Be normal. You were foolish to ever wish for anything other than normal. You would kill to have normal, now. To live without the churning in your stomach.

        You really should be more careful what you wish for.

#danny johnson #ghost face #dbd ghostface #danny jed olsen johnson #danny jed olsen johnson x reader #danny johnson x you #danny johnson x reader #dbd x reader #dbd x you #danny johnson x gn reader #ghostface x reader #angst #fluff #matchbook

[emuthec0w]

Fem!Muzan x Reader?

Therefore You and Me

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A/N: I know who you are, hi pookie wookie bear <33 xoxoxo

Anyway enjoy

CW’s: Fem/Crossdressing Muzan!!! Blood mentions, GN!Reader

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In this life, everyone treads along the red string of life and death. And if you asked, most would say humans are at the top of the food chain. But that isn’t the case. It never had been.

For centuries creatures known as demons roamed the mortal realmed and took the lives of many innocent humans. They gained strength by gradually consuming humans. That is what made them.. demons. The monsters they were, the monsters which disguised themselves as regular civilians on the daily- only to undisguise themselves when night fell.

And above all the rest was the ring leader of the circus. A person of many names and identities, yet one who wore the same eyes for each. Those same blood red eyes that reflected the fine string of death.

You.. oh, poor you. Having stumbled upon the demon’s master all alone during the depths of the night. She was dressed in a beautiful black, white and red kimono. Lacing trailed down from her wrists and her stockings, red nails matching her sharp and beautiful irises. She was so intoxicating.. from the moment you lied your eyes upon her you couldn’t bare to look away.

Each night you’d visit her abode, paying your respects to her as the oiran of her house and giving her roses of red which matched her accesories.. and of course- those lovely eyes.

She would often return your loving gaze with her own, as if she truly meant every adoring word she said onto you.

Unfortunately, nothing good lasts forever. Her nails dug into your paling skin as you lied on her comfortably blanketed futon. She loomed over you from above, pinning you down like a predator would with their prey.

“I-“

“Shh.. not a word.” She cooed, “Do you know who I am?”

You veered your head to the side as he nails dug deeper into your flesh, blood trickling down your shoulder. It clotted her nails, matching the red nail polish they were coated in. Although you wanted to answer.. the pain from her vicious attack kept you from speaking. All you could do was bite your lip and let out pathetic attempts at squeaking.

“I am Muzan Kibutsuji.” As she spoke she slashed her hand through your skin, “From today forward, how about I make you my pet? I’d hate to see you die just yet..”

Love? She could hardly say she ‘loved’ you, but since you amused her she would give you a new lease on life. A superior life.. a life where people would fear you and whisper your name in children’s tales. Soon the wound on your neck began to blister and sizzle, popping here and there. Veins began popping along your entire body, and all you could do was scream in agony. You choked on your own spit as you struggled..

And to your dazed surprised the demon landed a soft kiss to your forehead as the swelling slowed to a stop. She grinned, seemingly pleased with her handy work.

“Remember that name and reverie it. Fear your new Master, and follow my every command-“ She drew her hand away, licking the blood from it teasingly slowly, “-Like the good pet you are.”

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#demon slayer muzan #muzan kibutsuji #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #kny fic #kny muzan #kny x gender neutral reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer fic #muzan x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan

[darkgodcomplex]

Sleepover

Wally X Reader

Content warning: Body horror, psychological horror, scopophobia, violence

AO3 LINK

"This'll be so much fun!" Wally grins at you as you step into Home, duffel bag in tow. While yes, you are excited, you also are nervous.

"This is going to be the best sleepover!" Julie chimes in.

The gang truly is all here, you're the last one to arrive, and the sleepover is in full tilt. Julie sits crossed legged painting Sally's nails, Poppy is dressed to nines in her rainbow pajamas while Howdy wears more conservative plaid pajamas, Eddie eagerly listens to Frank talk about a butterfly book he recently read, and Wally, ever the pleasant host, leads you around the party.

That's not to forget Barnaby, who is already passed out in the corner.

The nervous pit in your stomach continues to gnaw at you, even as Julie tugs you in to get your nails painted. You've never spent the night at Wally's house before, it's certainly a new experience.

"What color do you want?" Julie asks, pulling out a bag chalk full of nail polish. "I brought my whole collection!" You admire the red color of her own nails while Sally also shows off her bright orange ones.

"Umm..." You're rather indecisive, plus there are so many colors to choose from.

"I just ran out of black though, Frank likes to use it." Julie adds.

"What other color am I supposed to paint my nails?" Frank scoffs, throwing a hand up. Eddie giggles along.

"I think you'd look nice with yellow polish." Poppy says to Frank.

"Oh, yes!" Eddie practically jumps at the thought. "Do yellow, Frank!" Frank merely rolls his eyes, a blush darkening his cheeks.

"I think this blue would look nice on you." Wally nudges you, noticing your indecision. You grasp the color he pointed out, staring down at it. It's a beautiful midnight blue, he truly did pick out a suiting color. You shouldn't be surprised though, painters do have a good eye for that.

Julie grabs the polish from you, "Perfect!" You stick out your hands for her as she leans down to get to work.

You all continue to idly chatter as Julie finishes up your nails.

"And done!" She beams. You admire the careful work she's done.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Howdy digs through his bag. "I brought some snacks!"

He tosses out candy bars and other treats. You can't exactly eat with your nails still wet, so you watch as the others dig in and blow on your nails.

"Should we wake up Barnaby?" Poppy frets. "He would be sorely disappointed if he missed out."

"Let me wake the big oaf." Wally gives a wink, sauntering over to the sleeping Barnaby. Leaning down, he shake's Barnaby's arm.

Nothing happens.

"Barnaby!" Wally shakes him harder. "Wake up!"

Howdy sighs, "I guess he doesn't want treats-"

"Did someone say treats!" In an instant, Barnaby is up, tail wagging. Everyone laughs.

"I should've known." Wally rolls his eyes with a grin as Barnaby races to get food. He turns to his seat near you.

As Barnaby quickly chomps down his food, Julie fiddles more with her nail polish.

"Wally, we should paint your nails!" Julie suddenly shouts.

Wally merely laughs, "I'm an artist, but I don't think that's really for me."

"Oh, come on!" Sally tries to convince him. "We can also get Eddie and Barnaby in on it too!"

"I feel like I'm already colorful enough." Barnaby says between bites.

"Oh Barnaby, but don't you want more colors?" Julie clasps her hands together. "This is perfect! I can do Eddie's nails and Sally can do Barnaby's nails!"

"Then... I can paint your nails for you, Wally." You say quietly, looking up at him. "If you want, of course."

He looks at you for a second, pausing before quickly nodding. "Yeah, you can paint my nails."

As Julie sets up to paint Eddie's nails a deep pink and Sally goes to Barnaby with a bright purple, Wally kneels in front of you, holding his hands out.

"Umm..." You look at the bag of nail polish. "What color do you want?"

"Why don't we match?" He smiles, nodding his head towards the midnight blue.

"Okay!" You feel your heart flutter in excitement as you grip the polish, dipping the brush in and smearing the paint onto his first nail. You're not very good and hope he doesn't mind.

As the others chat, Wally leans down to your ear to whisper, "Do you like the color I picked out for you?"

You can't help but blush as you feel his breath on your ear. "Yes!" You say a little too quickly. "I mean... it's really nice!"

He smiles, "I'm glad."

As you work, you chew on your lip, trying to make sure your strokes are even. You nudge closer, trying to get a closer look, but instead end up spilling the nail polish all over Wally.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" You gasp, grabbing at the bottle of polish.

He doesn't seem phased, but you still feel bad. "It's really okay."

"Here, let me go get something to clean you off." You stand. "Where are your washcloths?"

"In the bathroom down the hall." He gestures. You hurry down the hall.

Throwing open cabinets, you search through, trying to get back before the nail polish completely ruins his nice clothing. You know how much time Wally puts in to look nice, you'd hate to destroy one of his favorite jackets. As you search, you hear an odd creaking noise.

At first, you think it's just one of the others that came to help to search, but it quickly becomes apparent that no one is there.

You turn your head, eyebrow up as the noise lingers outside the door.

"Hello?"

You stand, listening to the pacing and squeaking of floorboards. Upon peaking outside the door though, you only find an empty hallway.

The noise stops.

Shaking your head, you turn back, finding the washcloth and quickly heading back down to everyone else.

Wally has taken his jacket off and Julie has the nail polish remover ready as you hand them the washcloth.

"Won't that damage it?" Frank asks as Julie pours the remover onto the jacket.

Julie shrugs, "Beats me!"

"Oh, brother." Wally laughs.

"I really am sorry, Wally!" You fret, watching as Julie haphazardly dabs at the stain.

"Don't worry about it." Wally leans back on his arms. "It's just a jacket, not the end of the world."

"I think we should let it soak." Julie decides, setting down the jacket. You glance over at Wally, who seems unphased by this. You hope his jacket turns out okay, maybe you'll buy him a new one if it doesn't turn out.

"What're we doing next?" Barnaby asks, waving his hands in an attempt to dry his nails faster.

Sally gives a sudden burst of energy, "OH! Let's play a game!"

"What kind of game?" Poppy tilts her head.

With a mischievous grin, Sally points her finger. "Truth or Dare!" She crosses his arms. "Here! I can go first! Poppy, ask me one!"

"Truth or-“

"Dare!" Sally doesn't even let Poppy finish her sentence.

Poppy thinks on this for a second, mulling over her options. "I dare you to... make up a dance!"

Sally laughs, "That's easy!" She quickly swivels her hips, lifting up a leg to an usual dance that is oddly reminiscent of Elvis' dance moves. Her shoulders go into the movement too as she hums a song to the beat of her dance.

When she's done, she takes a bow, which makes everyone clap.

"Wow! That looked rehearsed!" Howdy compliments.

"Thank you, thank you!" Sally takes another bow. "Now, however, it's my turn! Howdy, Truth or Dare!"

"Me?" He blinks. "I suppose truth."

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

Howdy hum's and haw's for a second, thinking it over. "Well... one time at the market, I was helping someone find their item... and then kept asking for apple floss! I was so confused... I told them that I don't think we carry flavored floss, but they kept insisting that we had this apple floss." He shakes his head. "It wasn't until they left that I realized that they were saying applesauce!" You laugh along with everyone else.

"Wait a second," Wally scratches his head. "Is applesauce made of-"

"Oh brother it's the pie thing again." Frank sighs.

"Applesauce is made of apples, Wally." Poppy explains politely.

Wally tilts his head, "But-"

"We're not getting into this again!" Sally interjects. "Ask away, Howdy!"

"Julie, Truth or Dare?"

Julie flips her hair, giving a smile. "Truth."

"What's your favorite color?"

Sally sighs, "You're doing this wrong!"

Julie pauses, eyes going wide. "Well... How can I just pick one color! I know I love red and pink, but what about green and blue and oh! I almost forgot about purple! Then we also need to talk about shades, do I like pastel or neon? There's just too many options."

"Wow, I didn't realize how big of a decision it really is." Barnaby seems to contemplate all this.

"It is!" Julie agrees. "You can't just have one favorite color."

"Black." Frank says. "Look? See how easy that was?"

"A dull black or a bright black?" Julie asks. "Is it more grayish? Blueish?"

Frank sighs.

Julie shakes her head. "See? You really can't come to a conclusion. Anyway, Eddie! Truth or Dare?"

"Uhhh...." He looks lost. Eventually Frank nudges him, trying to get him to just answer. "Dare, I guess."

"I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room." Julie says, a sly smirk upon her lips.

Eddie gives a big dumb smile. Without hesitation, he leans over and plants a gentle kiss onto Frank's lips. It's barely a peck, but it's enough to leave Frank red with embarrassment.

"Wally, Truth or Dare?" Eddie asks, grin still plastered to his face.

"Truth, please." Wally interlocks his fingers, waiting for his question.

"Who's your favorite?"

Wally is silent, half lidded eyes glancing at you before sighing and shaking his head. "None of you! I love all of my friends equally, of course!"

Barnaby laughs, "What a Wally answer."

"Well, I'm Wally, so it makes sense." He shrugs, looking over to you. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth." You say, sitting up straighter.

"What are you afraid of?"

His eyes seem to pierce into your soul as he leans forward, watching for your reaction. A chill follows down your spine, but you're not really sure why. After all, it's a harmless question, right?

"I don't really like the dark." You explain, trying to think. "Oh, there's also the feeling of being watched. I get that a lot when I'm alone, but I don't really like it."

"Oh, I get that too!" Julie says.

"Me too." Frank adds. Some of the others nod. Wally, however, seems to just watch you with a smile and soft eyes.

Truth or Dare continues, which results in all kinds of shenanigans. Barnaby ends up eating a donut with ketchup on it, Frank spills his guts about his celebrity crush, Poppy reveals that sometimes she just buys cakes from Howdy instead of baking them herself, Eddie gets a mustache drawn on in sharpie. Eventually, though, it comes back to you.

"Truth or Dare?" Sally asks you.

"Dare." You decide to be bold this time.

Sally grin, "I dare you to go into Wally's basement... alone."

Even Wally seems to be surprised by this, blinking at her with wide eyes. You slowly swallow.

"I don't think I've ever been in Wally's basement." Poppy says.

"Me either." Eddie chimes in as well.

"It's really damp and dark down there." Wally chuckles with a wave of his hand. "Are you sure you want to go down there?" He asks, looking at you.

"No shame in chickening out." Barnaby shrugs.

Your stomach does somersaults, flopping nervously. As much as you don't want to go down, you don't want to be the chicken.

"No, I'll go down." You say, standing. "Show me the way, Wally."

Every stands at the top to the steps of the basement, which recede down into total darkness. You can't even see the bottom from up here.

"What exactly do you use your basement for, Wally?" You ask, licking your lips nervously.

"Storage." Wally replies. "Mostly, at least."

"Oh, okay."

There's a pause. You realize everyone is waiting for you to go down.

"Well, here I go."

As you start down the steps, you wish you had asked for a flashlight. There is no way you're going to be able to see anything when you reach the bottom. However, if you head back up those steps now, you know there is no way you'll be able to convince yourself to come back down later.

As you walk, it feels like someone is walking down behind you. There are two sets of footsteps on the stairs, despite you knowing that no one would've come down with you.

When you reach the bottom, you stand in darkness, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the light. The noise behind you reaches the bottom as well and the sound of footsteps continues, moving along the edges of the basement.

There's a popping noise as well, though you're not sure where that's coming from either. You get that odd feeling that someone is watching you.

You can't take this any longer. You sprint back up the steps, relieved to see the familiar looks of friends' faces when you reach the top.

"You did it!" Wally celebrates.

"Well, you weren't down there for very long." Sally says. "But, you still did it."

"It's getting late anyway." Julie yawns. "Shouldn't we be going to bed?"

You all head back over to the living room, where everyone starts to set up their sleeping bags. Frank and Julie lay theirs next to each other, Howdy, Poppy, and Sally lay theirs out in another part of the living room, and in a different corner Barnaby and Eddie set up.

"Want to sleep near me?" Wally asks, sleeping bag in hand.

"Oh, yes!" You say. "I figured you were going to sleep on the couch?"

"No, no." Wally shakes his head. "You can have the couch. I want you to be comfortable."

"That's really nice." You blush.

You throw your sleeping bag onto the couch and Wally lays his onto the ground below it. You think it's comforting that he'll be right there all night.

Everyone snuggles into their blankets as Wally shuts off the light. Slowly, you hear everyone's breathing soften as one by one they fall asleep. Your eyelids grow heavy as you soon join them.

You wake up a while later. It's still dark, but something definitely feels off. You lay there awake for a while, trying to figure out exactly what is wrong, until it hits you.

There's no sound of breathing.

Is no one here? You stand up, trying to make sure you don't step on Wally in his sleeping bag only to realize your efforts were fruitless. He's not there.

In fact, no one is here.

"Hello?" You call, heading for the light switch. You flick it, but the lights don't come on.

Creaking sounds from the upstairs part of the house. It sounds like someone is walking around up there. You're not overly familiar with Wally's house, but you're able to find the stairs, heading up.

"Wally?" You call, desperate for any kind of response.

You get none.

The creaking continues though, getting louder the closer you get.

"Guys?" You call again. "What are doing up here? I thought we were sleeping?"

The noise leads you to a room at the end of the hall. Light spills out from the bottom of the door, illuminating part of the hallway. As you grasp the doorknob, the noise stops.

Pushing open the door, you scream at the sight inside. It's all your friends... well, kind of.

They're grotesque, body parts snapped and bent every which way, jaws broken and mouths open in agony. They writhe about, crawling by digging their nails into the wooden floor.

Worst of all, though, is their eyes. Bloodshot and wide, their irises are stretched thin from how wide their pupils are. They're all staring at you.

Then, they start to crawl towards you.

You wake with a gasp, sitting up as your hands fumble to find something sturdy. You breathe hard, chest falling heavy as tears prick your eyes.

"What's wrong, are you okay?"

You glance down to see Wally still awake, book sitting in lap with a small reading light.

It's only then that you notice the warm wet feeling. You groan, reaching a hand down to confirm what you fear. Your pants are soaking wet, sticking to your legs uncomfortably as they start to cool off. You pray that you didn't ruin Wally's couch.

"Are you okay?" Wally repeats, standing up in a panic.

"I'm okay." You nod, feeling the tips of your ears go warm. "It's just... um." You flip your blanket off of yourself.

"Oh!" He sounds relieved. "That's no biggie, we can just wash it." He glances around at everyone sleeping. "Just you and me, no one has to know."

You slowly nod.

Wally is very sweet and helpful, even giving you a pair of his pajamas to wear while he washes yours. He brings another blanket downstairs for you to use.

"Thank you for all your help." You say, sitting down on the couch. He sits next to you.

"No problem." He leans in, nuzzling at your ear. "I like to take care of you."

You laugh, "I'm also sorry about your jacket. I wish I could take care of you for once."

Wally merely smiles, "Don't worry, all will be repaid in the end."

You're not sure why, but that makes your hair stand on end. When you eventually crawl back onto the couch and Wally lays at the ground, you find that for some reason sleep won't take you.

You feel like someone's watching you.

#fanfic #fanfiction #wally x you #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home wally #welcome home fanfic #welcome home #horror #body horror #psychological horror #trigger warning #truth or dare #friends #sleepover #scopophobia #eddie dear #frank frankly #julie joyful #sally starlet #barnaby beagle #poppy partridge #howdy pillar #violence

[allthingsfangirl101]

Seeing Colors–Steve Harrington

I never truly believed in soulmates. At least not as much as everyone else. Then again, everyone else didn't graduate high school still seeing in black and white. To give myself some distance from my overbearing father and overly concerned mother, I'm spending the summer with my cousin. I haven't seen him much and I wanted to spend time with them before going away for college.

I drove into Hawkins, the small town already suffocating me. I was raised in a big city. Small towns just seemed too. . . small.

I parked in front of their house, grabbed my suitcase, and headed inside. I rang the doorbell and patiently waited.

"Y/N!"

I laughed as Dustin practically tackled me in a hug as soon as he opened the door.

"Good to see you too," I chuckled. "Let's go inside. I'm starving."

"Did I hear my niece is hungry?"

I looked up and smiled as my aunt walked over to us. She pulled me away from Dustin and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"It's so good to see you, sweetie."

"It's good to see you too," I smiled.

"Let's get you something to eat."

She pulled me inside and led me into the kitchen. Of course, she had a three-course meal waiting for me. As we ate, she asked me all of the cliché questions: how was graduation, how were my parents, was I nervous about college, was I planning on working this summer? And then she asked the one question I always hated answering.

"So," my aunt elongated, "any colors yet?"

"Nope," I sighed. "Not yet."

"Well, that's okay," she cleared her throat, sending a glance toward Dustin. "Dusty, I wonder if any of your older friends could be Y/N's soulmate. What about that one boy you've been spending more time with?"

"I appreciate your concern," I interrupted, "but I am more than capable of finding my soulmate."

I stood up and started clearing the table. I could barely hear my aunt and cousin talking about Dustin's mysterious friend. I shook my head and stopped trying. The rest of the night, my aunt looked at me with soft eyes.

After watching their favorite game show, we retired for the night. I placed my suitcase on the spare bed and sat next to it. I looked down at my hands, not entirely sure what color my nail polish was.

Everyone wants to find their soulmate, the person who is a perfect match for them. And as much as I hate to admit it, I wanted that too. I wanted to have that one person who was perfect for me and was destined to make me happy. I was just getting tired waiting to see colors.

                                * * * * *

"Why don't you come in?" Dustin offered.

"To an amateur basketball game between a bunch of graduates?" I scoffed.

"Like you have anything better to do," Dustin laughed.

"I hate that you're right," I sighed as I pulled into a nearby parking spot. We got out and headed into the gym. Dustin stopped in the doorway, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

"Son of a. . ." I mumbled when I figured it out. I turned toward him and crossed my arms over my chest. "The boy your mom was talking about the other night is playing, isn't he?"

The guilty look on Dustin's face was all I needed. I started to leave but he grabbed my hand.

"Please, Y/N," he sighed. "Just meet him."

"You mean look at him," I said, pulling my hand out of his hold. "Dustin, I can't believe you did this to me. Your mother? That's understandable. But you?"

"I'm sorry," he stuttered. "It's just. . . Look, he doesn't have a soulmate either and I just thought that maybe. . ."

"And I thought out of everyone in my life, you'd have my back."

I turned around, heading right towards the door.

"I do have your back," Dustin said, making me stop. "That's why I asked you to bring me here. There's a small chance that he might be your soulmate. What's the harm?"

"Disappointment," I whispered. I hesitated before turning back toward him. "Dustin, I have been constantly disappointed. Do you know how many of my friends wanted me to just look at a guy? Do you know how many times it hasn't worked out? Do you know how many guys have ignored me because I wasn't the one to help them see colors?"

"This guy isn't like that," Dustin jumped in. "He would never ignore you just because you weren't his soulmate. I mean, he dated a girl and still hangs out with her even after she met her soulmate."

"That's great and all," I sighed, "but. . ."

"Please, Y/N," Dustin said, his voice softening. "I just want you guys to be happy. And the fact that there is a small chance you could be happy together? I don't want to hurt you more, Y/N. I just want you to be happy."

I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing at the different guys playing. I looked back over at Dustin to see him eagerly waiting for my answer.

"Who is he?" I sighed.

"His name's Steve," Dustin chuckled pointing at one of the players on the court. I followed his finger, my stomach doing this weird flip.

"Come on," he said, struggling to hide how excited he was. He grabbed my hand and led me over to the bleachers.

As the game started, I wrapped my arms around myself. Throughout the entire game, I couldn't take my eyes off Steve. He was pretty talented. Not to mention attractive.

During half-time, Steve finally looked over at us. I quickly looked away. I saw Dustin raise his hand and wave at him, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"He looked at you," Dustin smiled.

"What?" I stuttered, looking up from my feet.

"When he looked at me, he instantly noticed you," Dustin explained. "And when he noticed you, he smiled."

"Just because he smiled, doesn't mean anything," I mumbled as I looked back down at my nails.

"I know," Dustin shrugged. "But it could also mean that he thought you were pretty."

The second half started, and I couldn't bring myself to look at Steve. I wasn't ready for that disappointment again. Instead, I paid attention to the other players. Every once in a while, out of the corner of my eye (or Dustin would tell me if he thought I hadn't noticed) Steve would look at me.

At the end of the game, the players went into the locker room. I didn't bother getting up. Dustin didn't bring me here to watch the game. He brought me to introduce me to Steve.

"Dustin!" Someone called. I quickly looked away when I noticed Steve jogging towards us. "I didn't think you had a ride," he said as he got to us.

"I didn't," Dustin said, glancing at me. "Until I remembered my cousin was spending the summer with us."

"This must be your cousin," Steve chuckled.

I took a shaky breath before finally looking at him. The second our eyes met, colors slowly started coming into focus.

"Whoa," Steve said under his breath. "So you're my. . ."

"I guess so," I whispered. "Which means you're my. . ."

"I knew it!"

We were torn out of our intense staring contest when Dustin yelled. We looked at him before slowly looking back at each other.

"Steve, this is my cousin, A.K.A. your soulmate, Y/N," Dustin introduced us as he bounced on his toes. "Y/N, this is your soulmate, Steve. I knew you guys would be. . ."

"Dustin," Steve cut off my overly-excited cousin. He sent him a look before turning his attention to me.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." When he smiled at me it made me have butterflies for the first time in my life.

"It's nice to finally meet you as well, Steve," I said, clearing my throat.

"How would you like to go get dinner tonight?" Steve asked. He looked at a smirking Dustin before adding, "Alone."

Part 2

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #joe keery #joe keery imagines #joe keery x reader

[saintchaser]

sirius black — water running like a column down his neck, raven hair that he cut himself, too short hair and too long bangs, and warm, metal grey eyes. alabaster skin and moles scattered around him, an endless, beautiful constellation. plump lips and heavy-hooded eyes, creasing just a bit at the corner, and a smile that could make the whole room turn and stare, because truly, he's the brightest star in the sky. clothes that are too big or too small on him and pierced ears; bitten, chipped nail polish and hair tucked behind his ears. a loud laugh and anger that consumes him, flaring in him, burning himself and everyone around him.

#okay so this is what i had in mind for sirius #had i done everyone in one post the descriptions would be longer but i want to do everyone individually in order to put all of them #<- as the center of attention so 🤷‍♀️ thought i might give all of them a shot at being the star #sirius black #my writing #character study

[leaves-and-inks]

🍁🐓A Haunted Harvest🐓🍁

Happy autumn everyone!! I hope you're all doing well!! Had a minute to breathe from school to finish formatting this!! Here's a little series I did in one of my classes as part of the visual development of a project of mine :) It may also end up in my school portfolio too to showcase the process, I'm not too sure. I'm reaching a point where I'll probably end up adding work I've done here to it. So far I've kept things pretty separate and not tied to any of my school or professional work, but that's becoming slightly impractical as I look for internships and whatnot. That being said, it will be very rare I add any of that stuff here, it'll be more likely I use this work in my portfolio instead. anyways, ramble over haha.

This was a lot of fun to do!! at the time of making it, I really wanted to test out a new inking style, one I've incorporated in my other pieces since :) for the final project, i did end up doing something somewhat similar, but in a more painterly style with line art. Aaaaand I was advised to make the chicken happier, which did make sense for the final application haha. But I love my haunted little chicken buddy ^^

[ID: Three white papers in a line with illustrations on them partially covered in leaves on leaf covered grass. the two outermost illustrations are tall, narrow pieces of paper, while the center page is a square. From left to right, the illustrations are a lettuce plant with roots, a chicken head, and a carrot with leaves and smaller root structures at the tip. are are drawn in black ink, and colored with yellow, red, and blue inks. they are also surrounded by black, yellow, red, and blue hash marks throughout the page to imitate a block print. the chicken head face left and slightly down, it's beak opened.

Image 2: A hand holding the previously described illustrations over a grassy, leaf covered pack ground. instead of the previous order however, they are held in a splayed out pattern like a deck of cards, the rightmost image being on top. from right to left, the order is carrot, lettuce, and chicken. the hand comes in from the bottom right of the frame, and is white, has black nail polish and a gray sweatshirt sleeve.

Image 3: Illustration of a chicken in black, blue, and red ink head on a white background covered in the same colored hash marks. the chicken faces left, it's head tilted downward with an open beak and blank stare. it's beak is predominately yellows, while parts of its face, full comb, and wattles, are mostly red. it's eye is yellow, and its body is mostly white. all areas of the chicken have yellow, blue, abs red in them to differing degrees. the outline of the chicken has wavering, disconnected lines surrounding it.

Image 4: Illustrations of the lettuce and the carrot, left to right, on white pages overlaid on a black background. they have the same style line are and colors as the chicken piece. No one color out of the yellow, red, and blue takes up either drawing. however the carrot is more saturated than the lettuce.

Image 5: close-up on the chicken's head. details in the face, such as the skin and feather texture, are more apparent. it crops at the tip of the beak, cutting the lower part of it off at the end, halfway up the comb, and before the neck truly begins.

Image 6: crop focusing on the leaves of the carrot illustration. most of them are in frame, with the exception of the tips. the top quarter of the carrot is also in frame

Image 7: close up on the root structure of the lettuce plant. most of the roots are in frame, with the exception of the very ends of them. the crop also shows the lower half of the lettuce leaves /end ID]

#Leaves and Inks #art #illustration #drawing #my art #folk art #witchy vibes #autumn vibes #autumn aesthetic #autumn #chicken #animal art #birds #bird art #vegetables #harvest #cottagecore #farmcore #leaves #ink #red #yellow #blue #traditional art #halloween #spooky aesthetic #spooky art

[9w1ft]

Ohhh. Based on what? 👀👀

for the record i still believe rep tv is the logical choice to be next based on the light blue and black nail polish and dresses and the end of the karma music video.

but if taylor wanted to punt on that and capitalize on the new beau du jour of it all, she’s welcome to the fever vision i had of certain aspects of they traylor narrative being Mary’s Song coded

think of the jersey number 87 merchandizing

the weird dad connection floated by page six, and the idea of mama kelce sort of rolling her eyes at this whole situation

sitting in a car in the middle of the night, maybe they could do a pap walk at stone harbor or something water and stone and childhood related

and not to mix sports or use dave niehaus’s name in vain but i can nearly picture mary’s song making the rounds and sportscasters all getting to say “oh my my my” in reaction to plays.

etc etc etc

i mean this is all just me being silly but i guess another thing for me is just the idea i sometimes bring up about how there are things to taylor more important than money and one of them is a sort of pride for her work that has gotten tied to metrics for her over the course of her life, and while you and i and most everyone can see that debut is going to outperform all the other taylor’s versions and break all the records by default, it’s very possible that taylor doesn’t know it, doesn’t believe it, is anxious about it, and really wants to have a perfect progression of each TV outperforming the next… and i truly do not think she is above calling upon all of american football to make it happen.

of course this idea could be applied wherever debut comes next or last but, in a prisoner’s dilemma type situation where the optimal outcome is psychologically out of reach, i think that of the following two hypotheticals i’d slightly prefer debut bearding first and rep with no bearding last over rep and debut with bearding.

oh and, it goes without saying that, of course, above and beyond anything, the idea of her doing The Revelation of her truth with debut as the closing TV is the best and most beautiful and most elegant thing to be done but, you know, i’m not expecting it