#damn my emo ass would be disappointed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angrilymanaging · 1 year

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K, So…. I’m writing.

This lady on snapped poisoned most of her family, and murdered them. Like first, the husband, then her son, and then tried to kill her daughter, and that’s when people started getting suspicious. She was a nurse, Her husband, didn’t work, which I guess wasn’t a problem, he was a stay at home dad, they had 3 kids. The oldest I guess showed like signs of savant syndrome right, She excelled at everything. She didn’t try to kill her she only told her about it, and enlisted her in her evil plan. The husband, was I don’t want to call him like a bum, but he didn’t work a lot he had like part time jobs, was heavy in his music not that he tried to make a career of it, but was like me you know, passionate about music, but I know I couldn’t really ever be famous, in turn I don’t really care much for speaking in front of or being around large crowds of people. I like to sing but in private, or in church. When I think of goals in the industry I definitely mean behind the scenes like, doing hair and styling clothes. Anyway, Her son had autism and seizures, and was an emo kid. His death wasn’t really suspicious, people almost expected it, cause of different things he was posting on his social media. He was who he was. The other daughter was I guess just a drain. I don’t understand these women, Like cause no not me, not now, it’s what this girl says to broke boys when it comes to sex. I wasn’t always like that though, I really used to give niggas a chance to disappoint me and ruin my life, like, I know you have the potential to do it, just prove me wrong. You not gonna prove me wrong?Ok bet.

I started having kids when I was very young. Not on purpose, just lack of general knowledge of sex love and intimacy. I was so ignorant, and just naive as soon as my daughters turned 13, I bought the book “The Coldest Winter Ever” for them. I mean I gave them age appropriate books, when they began coming into their moons, like my favorites were “The care and keeping of You” Those are the American Girl series, but I don’t really live in a town where wholesome, is really the way of life, and I knew that both of them would own half my personality and attitude, so I let Sista Soulja do a bunch of the teaching for me to begin with, and I made for damn sure that when they reached whatever point it was for them, that their decisions were well informed. You can’t tell nobody I didn’t teach ya ass nothin cause I definitely told you what could happen if you was out there bein grown. So my oldest daughter, I had when I was 17. She, I believe is about to be 24, I’ve lost track since she got grown enough to “Fly herself out” somewhere for her birthday weekends. She is pretty level headed, she’s the kid that made me believe that it was easy. She was a very sweet baby, her disposition even right now, is gentle. She taught me not to hit my kids, she taught me not to yell, and she taught me how to be a good friend. My youngest daughter is 17. I can’t wait until she turns 18, so she could be legal enough to be responsible for her own decisions. Again, half my personality and half my attitude. I die on crosses she nails me too very often, and it is very stressful. I love her, I really do, but her being 18, will be a relief. Then she can take my advice or not, and it will be on her. She has a very high spirit, and strong mind. She teaches me patience. She really doesn’t understand that my life was not always good like it was when I had her. She was the one that I had, to teach me about my responsibilities as a mom. I couldn’t take the bus with 2 kids. I had to learn to drive, and buy a car. I barely had a sitter with one kid, I had none with 2 kids, I had to sit down and raise them. I didn’t want to live with my mom with 2 kids, I had to keep my own place. She met me when I was able to give them anything they wanted, and anything they needed, take them anywhere they wanted to go. My only son is 13. He was planned, not born in wed lock, but brought forth through love. He is the only man who can, and will break my heart, probably over and over again. I tread very lightly with him. I love him from a distance. I have a 7 year old grandson. He is very funny and very cute. He cushions the blow a bit, for the situation with my son. He isn’t my son, but I am allowed the pleasure of assisting to raise him. Before me, It was my dad. He was his best friend,lol. Guess who is his best friend now?

All of my children have different fathers, which I don’t really think that it would have turned out different. I was 17, with the first, I was 23, with the second, and 28 when the last one came. So I don’t know they didn’t come, like most peoples, all of them were the baby for their own time, and I have always been proud of that, they are each spoiled in their own way. By happy mistake, my bloodline regenerates about every 5 to seven years, I’m wondering which daughter it will be this time, cause we are very over due lol. It won’t be me, oh that’s what this was originally about, I have to be mindful of going off on those tangents.

So after my son was born, I stayed with his dad for about a year. I did cheat, but with a women, not that that is better you know… cheating is wrong.I don’t regret it, and would probably definitely do it again. I don’t know, you can ask him why he deserved it. What I will say though is that by the time my baby was almost one, I felt like I looked better going it alone. I think it was at about around his tenth month that I had decided that not only was I not having anymore children with his dad, but with nobody,and took the necessary precautions to not, Period. I was carrying my whole family by myself, now never did I ever think about killing anyone like this lady did, I love all of my kids, I loved them from the day I found out about them, f’ck a nigga. People call me a bully, because of how I handle children, I am tough, but I am very fair, and I’m really a softy, til you get beside yourself. I am the greatest advocate for children because adults responsible for me ALL dropped the ball. I did love my daddy, and he was my hero, but when I got grown enough to understand, please believe, he made his fair share of apologies. I guess I could understand, why my 2 youngest children would call me abusive, cause I am the disciplinarian in their lives. I am militant at best, but the only people who have problems with how I handle my kids, are the bums I don’t want them to turn out like, that is me being honest, so I don’t really trip when I hear rumors about my parenting skills cause look at the people talking.

But, when you are the mom, the dad, the breadwinner….. and you have a man, something has to give. I didn’ want to put myself in a position where poverty was my only option, because I had too many kids. I didn’t want to be one of those people who never got to really have a life, because there was always a kid to raise. I also didn’t want to put my children in a position where they wouldn’t get a fair share of the generational wealth I hope to one day build. So I got my tubes tied. After I had my last baby. We can f’ck but I’m not having anymore babies, that is out of the question. I’m actually glad that I did too because I am not good with love, and just cause a nigga say they love you, don’t mean they do, and I’m not bout to push nobody else out to end up raising them by myself. Plus, when I’m ready to be done with your ass I don’t need no ties that bind. Not to mention, it isn’t fair to your kid. I’m 40 now, and with my children reared, and slim to no possibility of having another one… I am not going to lie if I get pregnant again, that will be my first ever abortion, and I will repent everyday, and I when I die demand the guy at the pearly gates to go and get his manager, because he will have to see reason. I work hard on my body. I like to do things I want to do and with 2/3rds of my children raised, the last being in the care of loving parents, who is bout to have a baby when there are trips to Miami to be taken? I met a woman who had grown kids, and then a toddler and she was like 45, didn’t even know where the kids father was, if she even knew who it was because she was the type. Don’t get it twisted, like I borderline the type you dig? But I’m not crazy enough to get pregnant and start all over again, and by myself, immediately no.

So when I think of this lady marrying this man, I guess one baby with him, kind of made sense but you just kept on. Why if you know this nigga didn’t like to work, and had little to no ambition, for any goal in life, would you, first of all how do you even get horny enough to have sex with and get pregnant by a nigga who buyin ya birthday cards, anniversary, and Valentine’s Day gifts with your money. I think about it and laugh at how really stupid I used to be. Just for you to get so tired of taking care of they overgrown asses, and put antifreeze in they food and drinks. You looked better just takin your favorite kid and haulin ass. Them people was grown. Now you on death row.

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starksclown · 4 years

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Thank you @jokerownsmysoul @rommies @harleenfleck and @duhliriouss for the tag! 💜

Post a pic of your lockscreen, homescreen and last song you listened to

Art by tyagashi53

Randomly tagging: @weebkyun @thescarypaper @gothjoaquin @jeremiahwasajoker @arthurskitten @arthurflecksgirl @sophiefleck @nietopesh @mur-raay

#did it with my ipad tho #i dont even have a music taste anymore i just listen to anything that i like lmao #damn my emo ass would be disappointed #personal

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leafwyrm · 4 years

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Every single odd number has an “e” in it.

#tagging for later

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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sleeping beauty

— You struggle to find a time to have sex with your beloved Aizawa. Unfortunately or fortunately, the only time you can fuck him is when he’s deep asleep.

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pairing: aizawa shouta x yandere fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, yandere!reader, non-con somnophilia, hairy aizawa rights, recording

word count: 4,201

a/n: mark ur calendar, im getting my nipples pierced nov 8. you bet ur ass imma write a bunch of nipple pierced readers from there on out. pray that my family never finds out about my nipples tho LMAO if they do,,, it;ll be ripped out of my boobies without a seconds hesitation

kinktober day 19 main kink: somnophilia | kinktober masterlist

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Aizawa was always busy.

Over the past ten years of knowing him, the two of you had been close. You were a good friend to him, someone he wouldn’t absolutely avoid at all costs when you walked through the hallways of UA, someone he wouldn’t mind rambling to him about their long day. Of course, you knew that you weren’t his closest friend, and to a certain degree, that upset you.

You had met Aizawa when you had first been a high school student; at the time, you were merely fifteen years old. He was twenty, only five years older than you, but he took your breath away from the first team-up. He had been tall, dark, and brooding, and your little coming out of an emo phase heart stood no chance. But, due to the age discrepancy, he was never anything more than a team member. Still, you held on.

You graduated from high school, made your impact as a sidekick, graduated to a Pro Hero, and offered a job at UA by the time you were twenty! So, for the past five years, you and Aizawa had been actual co-workers, and better yet, friends.

Aizawa indeed was one of a kind.

He still held the key to your emo school girl fantasy daydream, but you also discovered new sides and angles of him. You learned he was incredibly kind, thoughtful, and looked out for everyone, even if his gruff and sometimes rude mannerisms spoke otherwise. Although he tried to avoid any type of nonsensical drama like the plague, he was always caught up in it, which often amused you.

There was so much about Aizawa that you loved, so much that you adored and looked up to that it was no surprise that you figured your feelings of respect and admiration became love.

True, deep love.

As a third-year teacher at UA, you found that your interactions with Aizawa were quite limited. Not only because he was always being placed with a first-year class and said class moving on without him — something that only happened because he kept expelling the damn students — but because he was incredibly close with the first-year teachers.

You loved Present Mic and Midnight and All Might, don’t get it wrong! Your admiration, love, and respect for them were unprecedented, but you hated how much of Aizawa’s time they took.

“Sorry, Mic needs help with lesson plans for my class,” Aizawa apologized for postponing your lunch date, not a date.

“Sorry, Midnight needs help separating the problem children. Apparently, they’re growing an immunity to her quirk,” Aizawa grumbled, shoving his phone into his pocket before leaving your office where you both had been talking and drinking tea.

“Sorry, All Might—”

“It the class, your problem children, I get it,” you force a smile onto your face, trying not to show just how irritated and disappointed you were on how these days were going. Aizawa pauses for a second, his tired, dried out eyes trying to read and uncover the depths of emotions swimming in your eyes before he sighs and runs off.

But it went without saying that the people you hated most were Class 1-A.

The damn stupid, fucking, ungrateful class had already caused your beloved Aizawa to be hospitalized. The scar under his eye, a numbing reminder that you had nearly lost him, almost had to cry at his coffin with your feelings never once being uttered. They, without a doubt, took up his time the most.

He saw potential in all of them, none of them being failed or expelled by him thus far.

He spent countless hours up in the dead of night tracking each and every one of his student’s potential. Slaving away at his tablets to make sure that they all were feeling safe, heroic, and above all, they were headed to their individual greatness. So, although it would be two more years before you would have the opportunity to teach this class, you already had a vendetta against Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki. Those little shits always taking up your precious Aizawa’s time! He had never been this tired prior to them showing up!

But you never tried to think about it when you were with him.

You tried to openly accept your Aizawa’s new, incredibly busy schedule, and the moment the dorms appeared within UA, you found yourself more at ease.

To be frank, since you acknowledged your love for Aizawa at the mere age of twenty, and now at twenty-five, you had never taken on a lover or a one night stand. For years you had not allowed a person to grace you in bed or in their arms. It felt like you were betraying your love, and you would rather die than let that happen.

But the thing is, you are human, entirely susceptible to waves of uncontrolled horniness and lust.

In the beginning, sex toys worked.

You would press a vibrator to your clit, your toes digging into the mattress as your other hand shoved a silicone dildo into your aching, needy cunt. At first, it worked! You would cum with the thoughts of Aizawa being the dildo buried deep within you.

But eventually, you would find yourself at the peak of that orgasm, you knew the orgasm was right beyond the bend, just a step more, but you couldn’t get there. For weeks you realized that the vibrator, the dildo, and your fantasy thoughts weren’t enough. So, in your frustration, you began to search up audio plays of his narration at UA Sports Festival. Listening to his voice, ignoring Mics’ voice, to help coax you over that bend.

For a while, you were back to normal. Your highs and juices splattering all over your bed, a symbol of your lust and love for Aizawa as you gasped his name, wishing that the audio was real. But eventually, even the audios weren’t enough.

You craved Aizawa’s warmth, the feeling of his rough stubble against your sensitive skin, the throbbing of his cock buried deep within your womb, undoubtedly kissing your cervix. You wanted him; you needed your beloved.

As if by the grace of God, the moment you could no longer bring yourself to cum through that alone, the dorm system was put into place. And you, a teacher, were required to live on campus too. You tried not to think of Aizawa being a dorm away, tried not to feel the warmth fluttering under your skin when the two of you bid goodnight for the day.

You definitely tried to stay out of his room in the middle of the night.

God, you wish you could say that you stayed out of his room, but that would be a lie.

A big fat fucking lie.

It had started out innocently enough, you will claim.

You would see the exhausted man wave goodnight, grumbling that he needed to sleep now or else he would not wake up on time for homeroom tomorrow morning. You waved goodnight to him, trying to stay engrossed in a conversation you were having with Hound Dog. But an hour after Aizawa had gone to bed, you found yourself rushing away from the common room, explaining you had something to grade as you bid everyone goodnight.

Without a doubt, you ended up in Aizawa’s room that night.

In the darkness of the night, you watched the moonlight barely breach the thickness of his curtains to fall onto his face. You felt so warm as you stared at his slumbered face, your cheeks flushed as you watched his parted, chapped lips. You felt so light watching his chest rise and fall in a hypnotizing rhythm, reminding you that he is real, so very, very real. A part of you aching, knowing that he was entirely real and yet not yours. But still, you admired the way he looked so young, so intense, so ethereal as he dreamed.

You loved him.

Eventually, when you decided to leave, you pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling at the way his lips were exactly as you had imagined:

Supple, warm, and tasting of his mint toothpaste.

But the nightly visits didn’t stop there.

Most nights, you found yourself in his room, laying by his side, merely watching as he slept. No orgasm in the world felt quite as fulfilling as the quiet that came with just watching the over-exhausted Aizawa sleep.

But this is not a story of simple love, no, not at all.

Eventually, you began to grow bold. Your fingers sinking into your wet cunt, playing with your sensitive clit as you watched him sleep. You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning as a rasped breath expelled from his mouth. You nuzzled into the warmth of his body heat through at you and only prayed he would one day acknowledge and return your affections.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure when you began to suck him off too.

Maybe it was the first time his cock grew long and hard in the middle of the night, his mind undoubtedly having a wet dream. So, as his beloved, you only thought it was appropriate to give his body what he wanted. With the skills and intentions that could only arise from being a gifted Pro Hero, you pulled the blankets from his body and pushed his cock through the slit in his boxers, and took him all in your mouth.

His cock was absolutely mouthwatering too.

So big, so thick, so incredibly veiny that you nearly lost all control the first time you saw it in all its glory. He was better than any dildo you owned, his scent alone driving you crazy. And so, as you should, you began to fuck him, completely addicted to his aroma, taste, and touch.

After the first night, you continued to blow him. Continued to suck him off as Aizawa let out sleepy moans, grunts that were strained, his body shifting unknowingly as you continued to go up and down his length, continuing to relieve him of his stress.

But you were human.

A human with needs and desires, and eventually, his cum coating your throat and filling your stomach wasn’t enough anymore. Which is where we find ourselves now, unashamedly fucking Aizawa each and every night, your cunt swallowing him whole, without a single shred of doubt of what was wrong with this.

There wasn’t anything wrong with this, and you knew that even if he was asleep the entire time you fucked him, it was for the better.

“Wow, Eraser!” Mic yelled from your side as you sat on the couch next to your beloved best friend. “You look like you’re glowing!”

Looking up from your phone, attempting to portray yourself as curious and unknowing, you found your gaze falling onto Aizawa, who had returned from an early evening training session with his class. As a matter of fact, Aizawa’s face was glowing; he looked incredibly much more relaxed, much more than he has been since the beginning of this semester.

“What do you mean?” Aizawa asked, evidently unimpressed as a lone eyebrow raised.

You watched on quietly, lips pressing to your cup as you took a drink of your tea as he sank onto a seat in front of you.

“Wait, don’t tell me, listeners!” Mic gasped dramatically, his hands pressing to his cheeks as he stood up. His expression of shock and disbelief curling and becoming one of knowing and understanding. “Does our grouchy, one and only, Aizawa Shouta, a.k.a. Eraserhead, have a special someone?!”

“Mic—” Aizawa snapped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“There definitely has been an after-sex glow that Eraser has had for the past few weeks. He did say that he’s been feeling more… ahem, relaxed,” Midnight gasped, seemingly appearing from nowhere, incredibly interested in the rumor of Aizawa having sex.

“Just because I’ve been feeling less tense doesn’t mean that I’m having sex.”

You giggled into your cup as the three of them began arguing, Mic and Midnights naturally loud noise quickly drowning out Aizawa’s fruitless attempts to shut down any sexscapades they were coming up with.

“Y/h/n, what do you think?!” Mic yelled, his hand pointed at you as if holding a microphone as Aizawa had him pressed and tangled within his capturing weapon. “Is Shouta-chan having sex?!”

Yes, your mind begs to say, but your mouth curls into a teasing smile, eyes locking onto Aizawa’s annoyed golden ones.

“I don’t think there’s anyone on this earth that Aizawa currently wants to fuck six feet into the mattress when he’s so busy,” you chide, your smile never entirely disappearing. At the same time, you take a long slow drink from your cup while everyone else (Mic only, really) continued to scream.

But you stayed there for the rest of the evening, working in silence with the rest of the group as next week’s lessons were laid out. Through a persistent, entirely stubborn will, Mic managed to get Aizawa to admit that he hasn’t had sex since the time he lost his virginity, to which Mic admitted to having had sex via orgies only. Midnight proudly announcing that she had a side piece at her disposal.

So as you checked through your lesson plans for the ethics book your students would be reading next week, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see their expectant gazes on you.

“I had sex last night,” you admit, unable to lie under their amused gazes.

“WITH WHO?! ARE YOU SNEAKING SOMEONE ON CAMPUS?!”

For the rest of the night, you smiled brightly, laughing with the rest of them all as talks and stories revolving around sex filled the air. It lasted until past midnight, and with a heavy sigh, Aizawa excused himself first. You waved goodnight, and soon Midnight left, followed by Mic.

You stayed on the couch, your own attention focused heavily on the time and not what you were supposed to be doing. It didn’t take much before the time faded from 00:00 to 01:45, and with a brush of your skirt, you headed precisely where you wanted and needed to be.

The walk to his second-floor room filled you with lust. Your body, like some Pavlovian dog, trained and knowing that you were about to fuck the love of your life while he slept. He was so beautiful while he slept, a true sleeping beauty. You especially thought he was stunning when he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan despite his heavy slumber.

Without so much as a second thought, you apparated into his room, your feet cushioned by the soft carpet of his room. And with a smile that was dripping with your love, you stared at Aizawa’s sleeping form. He was already deep in sleep, his body positioned on his back as if he knew what you were doing, accepting the inevitable actions you would take tonight as you did every night. He just looked so calm, so beautiful, so youthful when asleep. The scar under his eye almost invisible

But unlike most nights where he slept in a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt and sweats, you froze at the sight of the tight black t-shirt on his sleeping form, the shorts that were riding just the slightest bit too low on his sturdy, muscled hips. Your bit your fist, a bubbling heat of lust, and a whine tickling the back of your throat as you take in his sleeping form.

He was doing this on purpose.

Teasing you with this outfit on his sleeping body.

You huffed, inexplicably turned on as the small puffs of air past his lips seemed to thunder around the room.

You were wet already, so very wet.

“You’re so mean, Shouta-kun,” you whimper softly, your voice silent and unheard by his sleeping form. You walk closer to the bed, lips pulled into a pout as you sit on the soft mattress. “Dressing up like that, I know you did that to tease me!”

Aizawa doesn’t respond because, of course, he’s asleep. But you smile regardless, imagining a million and three things he would say in response, each leading to what you wanted to do so desperately.

“I hope you know you were lying when you said you haven’t had sex since you were twenty,” you sigh, your fingers expertly removing his shorts and boxers from around his waist, using your quirk to make them reappear to the side of him. “We have sex practically every night; you’re so horny, my angel.”

You watch with a curling smile as his cock immediately begins to stiffen against your warm breaths, his face scrunching in his slight discomfort as his cock grows and grows. His cock is undeniably one of your favorite parts of his body. It’s pale in color, paler than the rest of his body, but as it extended to the swollen thickness of his head, it grew darker, the flushed brown pinkness of his head making you salivate at the memory of the first time you ever saw it. His cock, unlike the rest of his scarred body, was unharmed, unmarred by the horrors of the job the two of you held. The thick, beautiful smoothness of his skin, making your eyes flutter in unadulterated lust, his cock a symbol of your pure, unmarked love for him. You hum, hand grasping his length and lazily stroking him as your head tilts, reading his sleeping features for any sign of him enjoying this as much as you do.

“Aww, Shouta-kun, I wish you knew I fuck you. I bet you would turn bright red, knowing that I ride you every night. Maybe you’d use that weapon of yours to teach me a lesson or two,” you mumble, your hand gripping his cock harder as you stroke him.

A small glistening drop appears at the slit of his dick, and you shiver in excitement; he was already leaking pre-cum.

“Look at you, already ready to have my cunt wrapped around that big cock of yours,” you mewl, absolutely ready to mount him, prepared to have his sleeping form cum deep within you. You stand up, removing your shorts and panties, and climbing onto the bed.

With the balance of a pro, you get yourself hovering over him, your already wet cunt shivering with the expectance of having him deep within you. Your hand on his cock never once stopping as you tease yourself against his swollen head, your voice a pathetic whimper as your slick mixes with his clear pre-cum.

“S-See how embarrassing you are!” you huff, rutting his length between his folds, lubing him up for the initial entrance because, by god, it still hurt. “Making my pussy so wet! I’m practically dripping all over you!”

There’s only a soft breath from his lips, but you grin as if he was speaking to you.

“You want me too, huh?” you giggle, and without further adieu, you sink against him.

His cock entering your tight cunt was still as mind-numbing as the first time. His cock easily buries into the small, thin wall of your cervix, and you tremble as his length stretches and pulls at your throbbing core. You can feel every curve in his cock, every vein, every gentle throb.

“Glad t-to know you find me… nnghh… find me i-irresistible,” you pant, face flushed with your desire to adjust quickly around him.

The conversation from tonight had made you entirely weak in the knees and hot at your core, knowing that you were the only one to really have claimed Aizawa, the only one who would ever know how his sleeping body craved you as much as you desired him.

You give a tentative swirl of your hips, your eyes trained on Aizawa’s relaxed ones, testing to see how tired and sleepy he was. There was no reaction, no movement outside of the typical grunt at the back of his throat. It was a noise he always made when you first moved with him, a noise that quickly seared in the back of your memory forever.

Shifting your weight to be more comfortable on your knees, your hot hands fall onto his tight chest, and with a sigh of pure relief, you begin to fuck him.

Your straddling aided the deep penetration, allowing for the gentle kiss of the tip of his leaking cock to your thin cervix wall. You clenched tightly around him, unable to keep yourself from doing so as you rode him, the feeling of his throbbing member within you absolutely breathing taking as you placed your claim on him again, again, and again.

Aizawa was fully sheathed within you, and your fingers twisted and pulled at the tight fabric of his shirt, raising it up so that you could admire his taut, tense abdomen, mewling at the way he’s happy trail was thick and bushy. You wondered how he would react to your fingers threading through his body hair, if he would love it; if he would hate it.

“I want you to know how much I love you, how much I would give everything to you!” you whimper, your head fighting the instinct to throw itself back as you begin to drop onto his still cock faster and faster. “I wish you knew that you fuck me so good, Shouta-kun; I need you to know that! But you won’t even look at me! You won’t spare me a single second of your busy day, so that’s why I have to fuck you at night!”

Tears of both pleasure and hurt well into your eyes; you sniffle as you fuck him faster, dropping onto his awaiting cock with more significant, more aggressive slaps. The sounds echo throughout the room, the musky, sweet smell of your sexes is the only thing keeping you sane — that and the grunting noises that Aizawa keeps emitting, it makes your toes curl and belly flutter in a funny way.

“I bet you’ll fuck me so good once I get you to love me! You’ll never stop fucking me, you’ll never want to leave me because only I know how to fuck you correctly!” you snap, anger and lust licking through your tone, making your eyebrows furrow and your walls to clench even tighter around him. The building tension in your stomach is like a fire, and you can feel your high coming. “But you fuck me so good, baby, so good and you’re not even awake!”

And for the first time, you watch in electrifying pleasure as a low, husky, raspy moan leaves his throat as you fucked him. The sound alone was something downright pornographic to you, and the whine that spills from your mouth is nearly inaudible with the pitch it vibrates at. So without so much as a second thought, a bubbling smile spreads on your face, and you continue on, energy and excitement doubled in your joy.

Your hips roll, rise, and fall against his with growing force and speed. The small creaks of the mattress completely ignored by you as the throbbing and twitching of his cock buried deep within you keeps you pushing for more. The heat and pressure in your belly grow exponentially, festering and burning until you can feel yourself at the tipping point until you can’t do anything but focus on Aizawa and only Aizawa, or else you would scream his name in your euphoria.

The veins on his cock and the overall girth of his length send your mind spinning, not at all helping your predicament, and in a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from crying so loudly you would wake up even the dead, you lean forward. Your sweaty body leaning down to his parted chapped lips as you kiss him to keep yourself silent as your orgasm crashes through you in a blissful wave. Your body spasms almost uncontrollably, the nerves and firing axons through your body uncontrollable as you lay there, allowing for Aizawa to cum before you leave. You shudder at the feeling of his cum emptying out within you, his cock immediately softening as you lay there on top of him. His heart racing with his orgasm, and you sigh contentedly.

“God, I love you so much, Aizawa Shouta; I’ll make you mine one day,” you swear, your nose nuzzling his stubbled cheek.

You lay there for some time, enjoying the way he feels in you, content with the pooling cum from your still spasming cunt. But eventually, you pull away. You pull on your panties and shorts quickly, not wanting a single drop more of his cum to seep out of you. Unable to help yourself, you lick the leftover cum on his cock clean with your tongue before wiping him down with a towel to prevent the smell from clinging.

Your eyes study Aizawa’s face just before you leave, and your smile.

He really does look less tired after orgasming.

But the entire time you were there — the whole night you fucked him and spoke to him — you missed the red blinking light of the camera recording in the corner of the room.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #tw: somnophilia #bbs kinktober 2020

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter five rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

“Why are you in such a mood?” Ned asked his best friend as they walked to their college campus. Peter had been grumpy all morning and Ned was quick to notice. He usually showed up at Ned’s door exhausted but eager to share the adventures from the night before, but he seemed defeated today.

“I got my ass beat last night.” Peter grumbled as he shouldered his backpack.

“By who?” Ned wondered.

“I don’t even know.” Peter sighed. “I think it was some kind of alien.”

“What’d it look like?” Ned asked. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to ask a million questions after being told something Spider-Man related. After all, he was the guy in the chair.

“Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Peter said swallowed and tried to push the previous night from his mind. He’d rather focus on this morning, and the moment he had shared with you. Peter felt such a strong connection to you, and he would’ve stayed on that rooftop all day if he could.

“Describe it to me.” Ned pleaded, tearing Peter from his thoughts.

“I don’t know. It was like eight feet tall, black, and bald. And it was super veiny.” Peter grimaced while Ned’s eyes widened.

“Oh my God. You fought Shaquille O’Neal?” Ned gasped.

“Keep your voice down. I did not fight Shaquille O’Neal.” Peter whispered harshly. Ned always seemed one step away from blowing Peters cover. Peter gave bashful smiles to the passing students who gave him weird looks upon hearing Ned’s words.

“Terry Crews?” Ned continued. Peter rolled his eyes at his best friend and starting walking to class.

“No. This is serious.” Peter said, his voice heavy with annoyance.

“I know it’s serious. You got beat up by The Rock.” Ned remarked. Peter fidgeted with the strings on his backpack, still bothered knowing he was beaten so easily by Venom.

“The Rock is Samoan, not black.” Peter corrected.

“I know. But I heard “bald” and I just automatically envisioned The Rock.” Ned defended.

“There’s another thing. It had this huge, gaping mouth with rows and rows of teeth. I keep thinking about it.” Peter shivered. “It came so close to me. And its tongue was super long. It was like a cracked out frog.”

“So a ninja turtle? You got beat up by a ninja turtle?” Ned gawked.

“It wasn’t a ninja turtle.” Peter snapped. “ It was black, remember?”

“So an emo ninja turtle.” Ned deadpanned.

“It kept saying “we”. “ Peter remembered.

“What do you mean?”

“There was only one of them, but they only referred to themself as “we” as if there were multiple of them.” Peter explained.

“Do you think there could be more? Like an alien army or something?” Ned asked incredulously. Peter hadn’t even thought about that.

“Maybe. I remember something else, it’s name was Venom.” Peter recalled. He distinctly remembered those words coming out of the creatures mouth.

“Venom?” Ned repeated, clearly finding it cool.

“Yeah. And I told it my name. I used my regular voice too.” Peter realized. He usually disguised his voice when speaking, but he had been so scared that he forgot to. It haunted him knowing the creature now knew who he was and he wondered if it knew both of his identities.

“Wow. This is so cool. Not cool for you, because you might die. But this is super cool for me.” Ned smiled as he envisioned what Venom might look like.

“Thanks, ned. Actually, wait.” Peter stopped in his tracks. “One more thing happened.”

“What?” Ned whispered as they approached their class.

“Venom was about to eat me but then it started talking to itself. It sounded maybe like it was having a conversation with someone? I’m not sure, I could only hear one side of it.” Peter explained. “It put me down, well it threw me down, and let me go. But before it left, it said something about a girl. I don’t really remember. I was too focused on catching my breath.”

“Catching your breath? Were you running?”

“No. It choked me.” Peter told him as he lightly touched his neck.

“Kinky.” Ned smirked as he took a seat next to Peter in their class.

“That’s gross.” Peter stifled a laugh. “Did I tell you about this morning with Y/N?”

“No. Tell me.” Ned said. He wasn’t disappointed in the change of topic. He was glad Peter had moved on on from Liz, finally. Peter recounted the discussion he had with you that morning, barely getting through it without blushing and laughing at certain parts.

“I really like her, Ned. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. She’s so amazing. I barely know her, but I can tell already. I want to know everything about her. I want to hear her full story. And most of all, I want to be a part of that story.” Peter declared but frowned suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked.

“After our talk, we just kinda sat there staring at each other for a while.” Peter began. “She kinda leaned in, and I did too, but then this seagull flew by and scared us half to death. We laughed about it but the moment was gone.”

“So you almost kissed her?” Ned smiled. “Why is that upsetting you?”

“Because what if that was our chance and I blew it?” Peter feared. “What if that seagull was a sign from above that I was in way over my head? Like God was asking me who I was to think I could just kiss the most perfect girl in the world? She’s so cool, Ned. Way too cool for me. She’s already had a boyfriend and I’ve never even kissed anyone.”

“If it’s meant to happen, it will happen.” Ned assured him.

“Or, the same thing that happened with Liz will happen.” Peter argued. “I won’t tell her how I feel and then she’ll be gone forever.”

“Then don’t let that happen.” Ned reasoned. “Tell Y/N how you feel. Do it tonight, before you go on patrol. And if she doesn’t feel the same, then at least you’ll know. Isn’t it better to know?”

“When did you become such a love expert?” Peter teased as the professor walked into the room.

“Since I started dating Betty. She’s opened my eyes to what love really is.” Ned shrugged. “Tell her tonight. Then tell me how it goes. I’m here for you either way.”

Peter nodded and gave Ned a thankful smile before turning his attention to the professor.

On his walk home from campus, Peter spotted you walking down the sideways. Ned’s words of encouragement rang in his ears and he made a brash decision.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” Peter called after you, making you turn around.

“Hey Parker. How was kindergarten?” You teased him.

“Alright alright. Majoring in chemical engineering is hardly kindergarten. And I’m only one year younger than you.” Peter reminded you. “I don’t want you to have a heart attack on me, grandma.”

“Watch it, sonny.” You kept with the joke. “I’ll hit you with my purse and then say something mildly racist.”

“Just like my grandma.” Peter laughed in amusement. “We’re gross. And not funny.”

“We really are.” You scrunched your nose. “Couple of gross ass orphans.”

Peter laughed again, feeling comfortable enough with you to joke about a tragic situation.

“Look, Y/N, I really enjoyed our talk this morning. I really enjoyed all our talks so far actually. I guess I just like talking to you. ” Peter began. He looked nervous all the sudden, like he lost his stamina. You raised your eyebrows hopefully, as there were only so many ways this conversation could go.

“I like talking to you too, Peter.” You said honestly, hoping he’d continue. Hoping he’d ask that question. Your answer seemed to give Peter the confidence he needed to go on.

“Really? Um, that’s great cause I really like talking to you too. I already said that. Oh god. I’m crashing. I-“ he began to flail and you calmed him down by taking a few steps closer. You were almost touching at that point. He stopped talking immediately and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Is there someone you wanted to ask me, Peter?” You asked slowly as you looked at him through your eyelashes.

Damn. He was tall too.

“Yes, actually. I, um, will you…would you maybe want to-“

“Hiya kids!” A gravely voice came from the front stairs of your apartment, completely cutting Peter off. Peter looked up and angrily rolled his eyes.

“Don’t look now. It’s Henry.” Peter grumbled. Henry was the creepy neighbor with the foot fetish.

“Oh Dear God.” Peter said in a low voice.

“What?” You panicked when you saw Peters expression change.

“You’re wearing flip flops.” He pointed at your black painted toes and you felt the color drain from your face.

“Run!” He whispered harshly. You bolted into your apartment and Peter ran into his. Once inside, Peter blew out an angry breath. He had been interrupted twice in one day when trying to talk to you, and he worried that it was a sign.

Back at the apartment, you sat on your bed with headphones in. You were prepping for your interview with Cletus Kasady by writing down some questions you wanted to ask him. It was hard figuring out what to ask a serial killer. You looked at your notepad and sighed. All you had written down was “but why tho?” in sloppy handwriting. You tore out the page, crumbled it up, and threw it at the trash can. When you went to write something else down, you noticed the paper ball still stuck to your hand. You shook your hand but it still wouldn’t come off.

“What the hell?” You grumbled as you shook your hand.

“Oh. This might be our fault.” Venom said suddenly.

“What might be your fault?” You asked as you continued to shake the paper off your hand, but to no avail.

“We sort of went inside Spider-Man when we were talking to him yesterday.” Venom said timidly and the paper ball dropped from your hand.

“What?” You demanded and Venom went silent.

“Come out here.” You said, like an owner to a dog.

“We’d rather stay inside.” Venom said softly.

“Get out here now. You need to explain yourself young lady.” You said sternly. Venom slowly manifested and looked at you with sad eyes.

“I’m 600 million years old, by the way.” Venom added. “You can’t call me young lady.”

“What do you mean you went inside Spider-Man?” You ignored her comment.

“When we were choking him we put one of our tendrils inside him and swirled around.” Venom explained. “He didn’t even feel it. We did though. He’s very squishy on the inside.”

“You…what?” You didn’t even know where to start. “How does that explain the paper sticking to me?”

“We think we absorbed his powers.” Venom said. “We used to watch videos of him on YouTube after you went to bed. He can stick to walls and stuff. We think that’s why the paper ball stuck to you.”

“Since when can we absorb powers?” You wondered as you looked at your hands.

“We never had a host before. We don’t really know how it works.” Venom reminded you. “But back on Klyntar, our home planet, the Grandmaster used to tell us we could absorb the powers of superhuman beings. Judging by your newfound stickiness, we think it worked.”

“What else can Spider-Man do?” You asked. “Since you’re such a big fan.”

“He can shoot webs out of his wrists. And he can return lost dogs.” Venom answered, sounding a little annoyed.

“Do you have something against Spider-Man?” You chuckled a little at her tone.

“We hate what he did last night. He thought we were the bad guy, and he let the real bad guy get away. He judged us before he had the full story. We’re not a bad guy.” Venom defended. You were surprised to hear how passionate she was about this and gave her a soft smile.

“Let’s not worry about Spider-Man right now. I want to test out our new abilities. Let’s rock and roll, baby.” You cheered, complete with rock and roll hands. The second you touched your middle finger and ring finger to your palm, a black, web-like tendril shot out from your wrist and stuck to the ceiling. You stared at the web with a gaping mouth, weakly shaking your wrist to see if it would stay attached.

It did.

“Maybe that’s one of our new abilities.” Venom said. You looked back and forth between her and the gooey web coming out of your wrist.

“Oh my God! What’s happening?” You screamed. You took your fingers off your palm and the web retracted back into your wrist. Looking at your wrist incredulously, you made the rock and roll hand again and the same web shot out from your wrist. This time, it grabbed the ceiling fan.

“V-Venom?” You asked. You didn’t know what to say.

“Try to aim it at something.” She suggested. You aimed your wrist and the lamp across the room and touched your fingers to your palm. The black web shot across the room and grabbed onto the lamp. You quickly yanked your arm back to pull the lamp towards yourself. The lamp flew across the room, smashed you in the face, and left you with a bloody nose.

“Ow.” You cried, gingerly touching your nose.

“We see this as a absolutely win.” Venom cheered. You shot her a look and went to get cleaned up.

After about a week of practice, and very little work on your questions for Cletus, you had a better handle on your webbing ability. Of course, the week also consisted of long talks with Peter on the roof, late patrols of New York, the occasional run in with a criminal, late night FaceTime calls with Peter, and beating the shit out of Spider-Man, twice. Venom eventually grew bored of using the new powers around the house, so it was time for the final test.

You stood at the rooftop ledge and looked down, talking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“It’s a long way down.” You commented.

“Yep.” Venom replied in your head.

“We could die.” You added.

“Yep.”

“Ready?”

“We’re ready.” Venom grinned as you transformed. You stepped off the ledge and fell freely for a while, screaming the whole way down.

“Stop being a little bitch! Shoot a web!” Venom yelled. You aimed a web at a building and began to swing. You were too close to the ground and ended up knocking over a bunch of tables at an outdoor restaurant. People ran away in fear while others took out their cameras and recorded.

“We’re not here to hurt you! Peace and love!” Venom shouted as you continued to swing through the steers of New York. People began to cheer upon hearing your words.

“Do you hear that, Y/N? People are cheering. They love us.” Venom said happily.

“I love us too.” You replied. You were even happier than she was. You knew how much it hurt Venom to be seen as a monster, it was why she hated being called a parasite. You also knew it was why she hated Spider-Man. He was praised for stopping bad guys while Venom was seen as one of the bad guys he needed to stop.

“Hey, what is that thing?” A man called from the street. Venom stopped swinging and landed on the street. You proudly turned to the crowd of people, a massive grin on your face. There it was, our favorite question.

“We…are Venom.” Venom growled. People took pictures and videos of you from a distance.

“You can come closer. We won’t hurt you.” Venom assured the crowd.

“Are you like the anti Spider-Man?” Someone asked.

“Spider-Man is a joke. He can’t protect this city like we can. We are no Spider-Man. We are Venom.” Venom roared. A few people took a step back and you began to feel uneasy.

“Hey, King Kong. I want a word with you.” A sassy voice quipped from the crowd. A man in yellow sunglasses and a suit stepped forward, and you bet your ass you recognized him.

“My name is Tony Stark. Heard of me? Of course you have. Would you mind coming back to my tower with me?” He asked, but it felt more like a demand. The people in the crowd slowly dispersed and soon, you stood there alone with Tony.

“Be nice. Say yes.” You told Venom.

“Who is this guy?” She asked out loud.

“I just said my name.” Tony said, slightly annoyed.

“He’s a really famous inventor. I’ll explain later. Just follow him please.” You begged. Venom gave Tony a once over and followed him to a limo.

“Yea, you’re gonna ride up top big guy.” Tony said, patting the roof of the car.

“Girl.” Venom growled. Tony looked surprised.

“My apologies ma’am.” He raised surprised eyebrows. You rode on top of his car all the way to his tower, wondering what he could possibly want with you.

The inside of his tower was huge. Tony lead you to a lab that was bigger than yours and Peters apartments combined.

“I’ve seen videos of you on YouTube. Seems like you and Spider-Man aren’t the best of friends.” Tony remarked as he pulled out an iPad.

“We will crush his bones and snort them like cocaine.” Venom growled. Tony was just as surprised to hear that as you were.

“Now that’s a visual.” Tony smirked. “I’ll have you know, Spider-Man is a friend of mine. He’s not your biggest fan either but from what I’ve seen, you’ve done this city some good since you’ve been here. How long has that been?”

“Two weeks.” Venom answered.

“I thought so. I’d never seen you before then. And since your arrival, petty crime has dropped significantly in Queens. Criminals are too scared of getting eaten to do anything. Don’t get me wrong, I love Spider-Man and I’ll kill you if you tell him that, but no one fears him. He gets the job done, but there’s always another job to do. With you, on the other hand, your mere presence is preventing crime before it even happens.” Tony smiled to himself, like he was just given a new toy. “You’re scary, is what I’m trying to say. But you’re a good guy. It’s rare. I want it to stay that way. I want you on my team.”

“Team?”

“We’re called the Avengers. We had a bit of a falling out but the name still stands.” Tony waved his hand. “We fight bad guys together. Really, really bad guys. I think you could us some good. Plus, you’ll be taken care of for life and we’ll only call you in for serious threats. But I need a few things from you first.”

“Like what?”

“Your story.” He pointed a finger at you. “How does a giant, anthropomorphic alien wind up in New York City?”

“It’s a long story.” Venom answered.

“We can trust this man, Venom.” You told her telepathically. “I’m gonna come out okay?” Venom hesitated and Tony looked impatient to know more.

“Are you sure?” She asked you. Tony looked confused.

“Am I sure?” He pointed to himself.

“Not you.” She said. Tony looked around for who else Venom could be talking to and found no one.

“I’m sure.” You decided. “This guy is one of the good guys. We can trust him. I promise. I’m coming out.”

You slowly transformed back into yourself in front of Tonys wide eyes. Venom stayed in her snake-like form and rested on your neck.

“Hello, Mr. Stark. My name is Y/N L/N.” You shyly introduced yourself. “This is Venom. We want to help.”

Tony’s face shifted from shocked to impressed as he looked you over.

“I gotta say, I did not except someone like you to be inside that scary monster.” Tony chuckled.

“We’re not a monster, Mr. Stark. We want to help people.” You reminded him.

“I can see that.” Tony nodded. “That’s why I’ve been developing you a suit.”

“When did you do that?” You wondered. “We just met.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been designing it while you talked. I want you to have it incase you and Venom get separated. That way, you’ll be protected until you’re back together.” Tony explained as he showed you his ipad. Sure enough, it had a drawing of a suit on it.

“I’ll get started right away. I just need a little piece of Venom. If I make the suit using her skin, you’ll have the total protection you need.” You looked at Venom for consent, who nodded and extended a tendril towards Tony. He quickly snipped a piece off and put it in a container.

“When will the suit be ready? A few months?” You asked as Tony tapped the container. Tony stopped looking at the container and laughed.

“Y/N, I’m a genius inventor. Go get lunch. It’ll be ready when you’re done.” He said.

And he wasn’t kidding. An hour and a half later, Tony presented you with a suit. You ran my fingers over it slowly, not wanted to disturb a single thing. You looked at it in awe, completely speechless at what he had created.

“Go on, try it on.” He shrugged casually. You grinned from ear to ear before rushing to the bathroom to put it on. You came out soon enough with tears in you eyes.

“You like it?” Tony asked. You looked at your covered hands in amazement. The suit was jet black, like Venom was, and hugged your body like a second skin. There was a big white spider symbol on the front, the complete opposite of Spider-Mans small black one. You figured it was a nod to being called the anti Spider-Man and it was perfect.

“Well?” Tony was still waiting for an answer. You looked up at him just as a few tears fell down you cheeks.

“We didn’t celebrate my birthday growing up because it was the anniversary of my moms death. I used to be so upset every year.” You blurted. Tony looked like he didn’t know what to say and you couldn’t blame him. That was something deeply personal and you had only just met him.

“What I’m trying to say is, I get it now.” You explained. “All those missed birthdays were for a reason. I didn’t get gifts those days because I’m getting the ultimate gift right now. This is the most amazing thing I could’ve asked for. I cannot thank you enough Mr. Stark. I’ll never take it off.”

“You can’t take it off anyway.” Tony told you. “When you don’t want to wear it, it absorbs back into your skin like Venom does. And it’s equipped with Venoms essential abilities. It’s bullet proof, knife proof, taser proof, spork proof and so on. And you can still shoot your webby things. You just won’t have super strength, super speed, or that Venus flytrap mouth of yours.”

You tested it out and shot a web towards his desk. You grabbed a pen and caught it with ease, then looked at Tony for approval.

“That’s the best I could do. It’s no Iron Man suit but it’ll suffice.” Tony said casually. You couldn’t take it anymore and rushed towards him to hug him tightly.

“Thank you.” You said into his chest. Tony patted your back awkwardly and you let go.

“It’s nothing. You can thank me by not eating Spider-Man. I know he’s annoying but he doesn’t mean any harm. Now go forth and do good.” Tony requested.

You swung back to the apartment and landed on the roof. You turned back into yourself and made your way down the steps to your floor. After this mornings conversation with Peter and the incredible suit from Mr. Stark, you were having a great day. For the first time in years, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction

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lee-scribbles-and-doodles · 3 years

Text

S3 ep5

Current emotional status: FEAR

Cthulu Max has been on the rampage for a whole week!?

Ew, the narrator

Oh man, are they sending the airforce after him?

I really like Cthulu Max's design

Momma Bosco 💗

Oh hey, Norrington and Papierwaite are alive.

Superball are you saying you tried to send the Maimtrons up Max's--

Also he's acting president while Max is... deposed of.

Superball is only giving Sam until 6am :(

Featherly!

"Wandering around the moleman tunnels is no fun without Max."

"You got it all wrong, we're trying to help Max." "We will help him... to a generous serving of ass whooping."

"That is one rabbit who will be multiplied... into 2,000 smoldering pieces."

Carol ran off with Blustet

"I only want her to be happy, is all." Aw, Curt

Superball just admitted to having separation anxiety from Max

Ok Momma can't come but Papierwaite and Norringron can.

I like Norrington :)

GASP

Is it?

It is!

SYBIL!!!!

RETURN OF THE QUEEN

Oh, she is very pregnant

She was a wizard at one point?

She's gonna help!

Superball there's no such thing as acceptable losses

Abe has his body back

"Four score and seven tons of raw power"

HE CAN FLY NOW!?

Sybil, I love you, but why did you mod someone else's car???

Grandpa Stinky I love you

Oh, he just handed us the recipe for once.

Asdfff the spore maxes swarming Grandpa

They stole Grandpa's hotdogs

"We must feed the host! Piglets and sphinkters make us stronger!" "We regret nothing!"

Grandpa hasn't slept in three years

Sam just casually taking the last of Grandpa's corndogs

The spores are trying to get it

Lol Sam slapped them

Sal's alive!

He's hiding from Sam :(

Lol we can control Cthulu Max with Corndogs

Ew, the cornstarch got mixed in with the giant puddle 🤢 Looks gross

Love how Sybil completely ignores the Flaming Max head

Also the look of disappointment on the spore's face made me laugh

Fifth trimester???

The way the one Max spore by Grandpa's truck is bobbing in circles with his mouth open is making me laugh.

Sam showing concern for Sybil because she’s preggers 🥺

Her being pregnant with Abe's child implies that statues have working genital in this universe

She put a weiner scented airfreshener in the desoto

At least Sam and a Max spore seem to like that (of course they do)

"Sybil you're the best!" Hell yeah she is!

Sam's mind went to the color bar codes to prevent being traumatized by Sybil's oversharing

We drowned the desoto

Asdfgh Sam just botched slapped one of the spores for trying to say "that's none of your damn buisness."

Ew, Max's spine is pointing out

Oh hey, Satan and Jurgen

Why is Jurgen wearing his old fashioned clothes instead of his emo clothes?

Lol Sam snuck into frame to shout "Go Mets! New York rules!"

"--besides it's just a good and noble thing to do." "You're not familiar with my previous work, are you?"

"Sam, what happened to you to make you so cynical?" Gee, Jurgen, I wonder what could have possibly happened.

Oh so the water tower counts as vegetable oil because Momma did something to it

Pfft we can replace Satan's microphone with a corndog

Omg they jumped off the building to avoid Max

Oh, they're fine, and the oil is in the giant puddle.

I'm thankful to Featherly for giving us an egg but I'd have preferred not to watch him lay it. Granted it was just in a cartoon way but he still made weird noises

Also TRANS FEATHERLY 2021

"I desperately wanted to see that, sir. Ask him if he'll lay another one."

Oh hey, the Flaming Max heads helped heat up the giant desoto corndog

Since I'm playing this in 2021 the Maimtron's song references are super dated, which defeats Superball's efforts

Oooh! A unique opening sequence???

Oh this music is jazzy af

Sam really doesn't like the Max spores

Sam how do you already know what Max's insides look like???

"Even when he's not a collasal monster Max's food comas can last for weeks."

Ok we wake Max up with the coffee beans, right?

Yup!

The gi Max spore is so sad he doesn't get to come 😢

"But I'm a horrible monster!"

"I suppose Max's brain always looks like a living room?" "Well, Max is host to all kinds of weird parasites, and he likes to he a good host!" WHAT

No really, this brings up so many questions about lagomorphs. Are they some kind of Symbiote or something?

And a previous episode confirmed Max is amphibious

Max has tumors!!!

It shocked Sam!

"Eugh! Get away fake Max!" "Do you find my warmth... alarming, Sam?"

"What do nightmares taste like, anyway?" "Pepsi"

Max wants to be author 💗

He also writes fanfiction about Flint 🤣

I'd unironically read his books.

Tina Belcher voice: Friend fiction

Max has an experimental fusion jazz band???

"He just killed a great white shark--"

Max being completely unable to describe a woman is very gay of him. Good for him.

Max's brain teleported everyone to different parts of the body.

Found Sybil in the gym/legs

The brain is broadcasting Sam's thoughts???

Sam couldn't think of a joke for the medicine balls :(

"Wow Max is looking pretty buff. Would it be too weird if I asked him to turn around?"

Sam! Stop thinking bad things about Sybil's pregnancy she can hear you you putz!

She's upset with him now

"Can you believe this guy?" "I find the entire situation to be very contrived and misogynistic." Same spore Max, same.

Sam stop being so mean omg!

"I changed Sybil, I totally get the whole parenthood thing now." "Really now?" "Tax deductions."

In Max's inventory now

Y'know, I never really thought about it as a storage house

Hit The Road reference :3

Baby roach hatched in

"Pa..papa?" "Now I am little champion, now I am!"

Max has a Maximus shrine

Sam turned into a roomba!

Aw, he named it Sam Jr 🥺

We won Sybil back through his love of Sam Jr

Found the conjoined twins

Huh, Max lost as eye. Does that mean he has a glass one, or do lagomorphs have regenerative abilities?

Pfft we have to play twister to control his arma

The brain is messing with things again

Oh, we need a roach to operate the game because of radiation

Well, let's kidnap Sal

Oh, poor Girl Stinky. She's really going through it

Aw, Sal feels bad

Sal?

Honey, are alright?

He's dying???

He's not immune to irradiation!?

Oh no, he's gone

I'm so sad 😞

Gotta pick up Sam Jr. Before I control Max

They mad Max do a magical girl pose

Ugh the narrator is back

Wait, what?

He's Max's brain??? SUPEREGO???

WHAT

"I was always ignored" Yo if my super ego was as pretentious as you I 'd ignore it too 😤

He wants to kill himself and Max???

I know Max had a self loathing complex but holy shit

The super ego is perfectly fine with destroying half the east coast what a jerk

Just noticed Sam's tie is red. Had no idea about this while drawing PI!Sam lol

We have to help Max get his memories back to use the ASTRO projector

Skunkapes has three Sam clones imprisoned

Sam had canon ocd?

Gasp Gordon???

No, it's Sammun Mak

I love him, little child tyrant

Just make him a mobile brain in a jar and let Sam and Max adopt him

Why is Grandpa here?

He isn't talking like Stinky

Too polite

Sam sees it too

He's a space gorilla

They switched brains?

Found the cloning g chamber

Let's go to Momma's first

CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME

Superball is "wracked with guilt"

"Keep it together Superball. Sam will be able to save the day. He always does."

Ok, let's go to the cloning facility

I'm still thinking about poor Sal yo

FLIIIIIINT!

He's punching space apes!

Girl Stinky really playing up the evil Mistress role

The doggleganger has a bomb on him!!!

Wait so Girl really is a mermaid??? I thought that was just her aestetic

God I love Flint

Haha we tricked Skunkape with scooby doo villain tactics

Got the robot

Her water broke... and it was pennies

Max wants to save Sybil! 😭🥺💕

Super Ego is here

Oh now he wants to save Max

The only thing here are those records

Super Ego waved goodbye

Cthulu Max is cute when he cries

Wait What?

His head is on fire!

The maimtron hit him!

He waved goodbye... and teleported away.

He exploaded!!!!

He promised he'd take Sam with him and he didn't!!!!

AAAAAAH

I thought the dead Max thing was popular angst fanon fic thingy!

We're cloning Max?

It didn't work 😭😭😭😭😭

Superball ran off crying

Oh God the credits are just Sam walking sadly what the hell

He's not even stopping to fight any crime 😢

💔💔💔

God the way he's clinging to himself

What?

The elevator???

MAAAAX

he's back???

Past Max???

He blew his Sam up???

Wait hold on I'm glad they're together again but this doesn't fix anything

There's so much trauma from this season

All the horrible things that happened during 301-304 happened in like 3 days tops, then Sam had to deal with Max being a monster for a week before watching him die!

And the new (?) Max had BLOW HIS SAM UP!!!

And they left the franchise like that for a decade????

What the hell?

I want to be happy but this shit is going to consume my brain for the next week at least what the hell

Aaaaaaah!

Like maybe they really do just brush it off but it feels unlikely

I know Max has a connection with his other selves so it'll be easier for him to adjust but certainly Sam is going to notice the discrepancies since he doesn't get the same deal

Someone told me there were multiple endings hold on

Aw, they walked off into the sunrise together

But still

AAAAAAAAH

#sam and max #freelance husbands #sam and max freelance police #sam & max #sam & max freelance police #freelance police #lee plays sam and max #305 #what the hell #flint paper #agent superball #momma bosco #sybil pandemik #sal s&m #general skun ka'pe #girl stinky #sammun mak #don't @ me I'm crying

87 notes · View notes

izzyfandoms · 4 years

Text

Like Lipstick Stains On His Skin

SHIPS: Remile

CHARACTERS: Emile Picani, Remy Sanders

WARNING: Anxiety, references to heartbreak

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1

Masterpost

A Series Of Soulmate AUs Masterpost

Emile Picani had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember.

The moment he had first laid eyes on Remy Sanders, his initial thought had been that that was the most attractive person he’d ever seen. And, after getting to know him better, Emile’s thoughts only solidified; Remy was funny and sarcastic, smarter than anyone gave him credit for, and casually flirty in a way that made Emile’s heart stop and pound and ache all at once.

And Emile’s feelings had only strengthened as they grew up together.

From awkward teenagers still figuring out their sexualities to adults with their own homes and jobs and independent lives, Remy and Emile had stayed friends through it all, sticking together like glue since they’d first met in middle school. They knew almost everything about each other, and they were best friends.

But that was just it – they were friends. Nothing more.

And Emile was... fine with that. He was fine.

He loved Remy. Loved, loved, loved Remy.

And, sure, it hurt when he was with Remy, but not really with Remy, not in the way Emile always wanted to be. It hurt to be around him and know that it would only ever be platonic, that his best friend would never love him back in quite the same he loved him.

But time spent with Remy was better than time spent with anyone or anything else. And Emile knew that Remy cared deeply for him, too.

Emile could take the heartache if it meant he never lost his best friend.

When Emile heard the knock on his front door, he immediately recognised it as Remy’s. He jumped up – perhaps a little too enthusiastically and excitedly, but the only person that could see him right now was himself, so there was nobody around to judge. He rushed over to the door and pulled it open. Remy’s eyes lit up when he saw Emile, and he grinned.

Emile would never admit aloud to the tremble of his heart in his chest at the expression on his best friend’s face, but he did immediately squish down the traitorous hope that emerged every time Remy looked at him like that. Which happened almost every time they saw each other.

“Hey, Remy! You’re here early,” Emile said.

“Hope that’s chill, babe. I was not watching the time.”

(Emile did his best to ignore the feelings that the use of the nickname ‘babe’ stirred up.)

Remy’s sunglasses were propped up on his head, as they often were, and his warm brown eyes were on display. He was wearing his signature black leather jacket, too, as he usually was, with a white crop-top – with the word ‘bitch’ across the front in block capitals – underneath, exposing his midriff.

It took effort for Emile to keep his eyes from drifting downwards.

“It’s fine, Remy,” Emile smiled, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on his best friend’s face. “You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

Remy laughed. “If you keep saying that, I’ll end up showing up here at 4am when I’m drunk.”

“Well, I would rather you came here than go somewhere else and get yourself hurt.”

“Even if that means I wake you up from whatever candy-coloured, cartoon-filled dreams you’re having?”

“Mhm!”

“Damn, gurl, you really are sweeter than sugar, huh? How the hell did someone like you end up being besties with someone like me?”

“Aww, Remy, I think you give yourself too little credit.”

Remy laughed again. “Nah, babes, I love myself. I’m just kinda an asshole sometimes.”

“Isn’t everyone sometimes?” Emile said.

“Not you, apparently. Come on, you’re basically an angel, like, 24/7 and I have legit no idea how you do it. You’ve got the patience of a saint and a smile that literally gives me toothache just looking at it. You’re downright adorable.”

Elation bubbled up in Emile’s heart, and those bubbles filled his chest and spilled over in the forms of happy giggles. He covered his smile with his hand, and practically melted on the spot at the soft, fond look that crossed Remy’s face for just a moment – almost unnoticeable, but Emile paid enough attention that he saw it – before being replaced with Remy’s usual grin.

“Do you want to come in?” Emile asked, still smiling.

“Sure.”

Emile stepped to the side, and Remy’s arm brushed against his own as he walked past him. He hoped the stuttered breath at the contact wasn’t obvious.

“I like the new tie,” Remy commented as Emile shut the door and turned to face him.

Emile perked up. “Oh, you noticed!”

“Course I did,” Remy said. “I’ve seen every tie you’ve got like a million times. I could tell that one was new basically as soon as you opened the door.”

“Aww, Remy... you’re great. The best friend a guy could have!”

Emile’s smile was soft, fond, and so, so caring, and – for just a moment – he could have sworn that Remy looked flustered to be the recipient of it: wide-eyed and as still as a statue. But then, the moment passed, and Remy’s expression smoothed over and returned to normal, and Emile was sure that he’d only imagined it.

“It’s nothing, babe,” Remy said, waving his hand dismissively. “You noticed when I got that new skirt last week, even though it’s identical to my old one-”

“Your old one had a big hole in it! The new one didn’t.”

“Yeah, so I had to get a new one ‘cos it made my ass look great and I wasn’t ‘bout to give that shit up, you know? Ooh, and I especially love it paired with those heels that get everyone looking at my legs, ‘cos that combo makes me look fab AF.” Remy paused. “You know what, I think that’s kinda beside the point. Any-gay, you noticed ‘cos you’re cool like that, so me noticing your tie is, like, nothing.”

“Aww, Remy,” Emile reached forward, and poked Remy’s arm. “It’s not nothing, most people wouldn’t even be able to tell! You’re my best friend, and it makes me really, really happy that you notice these kinds of things.”

Remy’s expression softened. “Well, then I guess it makes it pretty special then, huh?”

Emile felt like screaming. Or kissing Remy. Or kissing Remy and then screaming.

(Though, really, if Emile ever got the chance to kiss Remy, he’d be too busy savouring it to even think of doing anything else. Too busy savouring the feeling of warm lips against his own, of Remy’s gentle hand against his cheek, of a chest pressed against his own, of being so close to the one person he wanted to be close to more than anything else in the world. But he never thought he’d ever get the chance.)

Emile stumbled over his words, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other as he fiddled with his hands. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that, and wasn’t sure if he even could without losing control of his mouth and accidentally confessing his undying love for his best friend.

“Um...” he trailed off.

Remy laughed awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair and glancing away.

“So, uh... what did- what did your patients think of your new tie?”

“Oh!” Emile perked up again, at once both disappointed and relieved by the return to the original topic of conversation. “Yeah, two of them complimented it. And someone said the red was a nice change from the usual pastels, so I think it was a big hit!”

He smiled, and Remy immediately smiled back.

“Nice.”

“I think the pink tie’s still my favourite, though.”

“Mine, too. It’s a classic Emile colour.”

Emile laughed. “There are classic Emile colours?”

“Sure, there are! You’ve got your baby pink, baby blue and, you know,” Remy reached out, tugging gently on Emile’s cardigan sleeve. “You’ve got your cardigan-colour. I’ve, like, barely ever seen you without this thing. How many of these do you have? Like, a hundred?”

Emile giggled again, covering his mouth with his hand. “I have two. And they’re both a little different!”

“Right, right,” Remy nodded. “One’s, like, a little bigger.”

“Mhm! And this one’s a bit softer.”

Remy nodded again, slowly and with an amused tint to his smile. “So, are we gonna, like, move, or are we gonna stand in your hallway forever?”

“Oh, right!” Emile said, like he’d only just remembered that they were still stood at his front door.

He moved past Remy, gesturing for his friend to follow as he went into the next room and sat down on the couch. Remy immediately flopped onto it beside him, getting comfortable on the soft, squishy cushions. He leant back lazily and stretched.

“Ooh,” Remy finally said, straightening up. “I bought a new lipstick yesterday!”

“Ooh, what colour?”

“It’s, like, pink. It matches the shoes I bought last week, and it makes me look killer. I’m gonna get all the guys’ eyes on me, so it sucks that I can’t wear it when I’m, like, actually looking to kiss strangers, you know?”

Emile ignored the pang of pain in his heart, and did his best to smile encouragingly.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned,” he said. “I- I bet you look great in it. And it- it's a shame you can’t wear it when you want to.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda tempted to, you know, but, like, if I’m wearing lipstick, then I won’t know if any marks my lips make are ‘cos of my lipstick or ‘cos of soulmate shit, right?” Remy continued, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “And, like, what’s the pointing of making out with people if I can’t also know if they’re my soulmate?”

“Right.”

“So, I can only wear lipstick when I’m not looking for people to kiss. Sucks, but it’s gotta be done.”

Emile nodded slowly. Then, he paused, and his brow creased in thought.

“You don’t usually wear lipstick when you’re with me,” he said. “Even when we’re going out and it’s just us, no- no kissing strangers involved. How come?”

Remy froze in place.

“Uh...”

Emile blinked at him. He tilted his head questioningly. “Hmm?”

He could practically see the cogs turning in Remy’s head, while he searched for an answer that he obviously did not have or did not want to share. He looked... flustered, in a way that Emile had almost never seen him before – opening and closing his mouth a few times – and Emile just couldn’t seem to figure out why.

Remy and Emile just stared at each other, neither knowing quite what to say to the other. Emile was confused, not wanting to speak up at the risk of interrupting whatever Remy wanted to say. He also absolutely would not let his mind wander to the any possibilities that would fill him with hope.

A crushed hope was definitely not something Emile wanted to deal with, not right now.

Remy cleared his throat. He swallowed.

“Um- there’s...” he then huffed, looking down at his lap and running his fingers through his hair. He let out an awkward laugh, and then looked back up at Emile. “I... okay,” he sighed. “There’s something I think I should probs tell you.”

Emile stared at him, blinking. “What is it?” He asked.

“It, uh...” Remy sighed again. “I have no idea how you’d react to this. The thing I want to tell you... it could probs mess up our friendship.”

“Remy...” Emile said softly. “You’re my best friend. You can tell me anything, and I promise you this won’t mess anything up, okay?”

“You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”

“I don’t need to. I know you.” Emile leant forward slightly, giving Remy his best attempt at a soft, reassuring smile.

Remy stared at Emile for a second. Then he laughed again, a strange mix of awkwardness and nervousness and with a hint of slight joy, too – with a confusing, even a little alarming, effect. His eyes never left Emile’s smile.

“Jeez, babe. How are you making this so much harder but so much easier at, like, the same time?”

Emile blinked. “Um... is that good?”

“Dunno. But...” Remy took a deep breath. He clenched his hands into fists, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before he turned back to Emile. “Okay... wow, I’ve wanted to tell you this for forever, but, like, fuck, this is terrifying.”

Emile’s expression creased with concern. He reached forward, looking him over worriedly, and rested his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“Remy, are you okay? You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he frowned slightly.

“No, I- I want to tell you. God, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about telling you about my feelings.”

Feelings. Feelings, feelings, feelings.

Did that mean what Emile thought it meant?

The hope rose up, though he tried so hard to squash it down, but it was like trying to fit something large in a container too small and he could hardly keep it from filling up and overwhelming him. His breath stuttered, and he was sure he tensed up and froze in place for a moment, before he finally regained his composure and physically relaxed.

“Feelings?” He asked, in a voice slightly more strangled than before. “What feelings?”

Remy let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that’s- that’s what I’ve gotta talk to you about. My- my feelings... for you.” He took another deep breath. “I... I love you, Em.”

“I love you, too,” Emile answered back immediately. “Haven’t we said this before?”

They had. The two best friends had been friends for so long: exchanging ‘I love you’s was practically part of their routine, by now.

But it had always been platonic, at least from Remy’s side.

Right?

“We- we have...” Remy said slowly. “But that’s not what I meant. I love you. Like, love love. Like the head over heels in love kind. The- the I can never stop thinking ‘bout you kind. The, fuck, you’re so gorgeous kind. The kind that means I’m, like, basically always thinking about you and about kissing you and about how, wow, you’re- you’re just amazing. I mean, damn, I know last week when I told you that you’re my favourite person, I kinda said it like a joke, but I meant it. I like really, really meant it.”

When Remy realised that he was rambling, he clamped his hand over his mouth, like it was the only way to get the words – the pretty, pretty words that had set Emile’s heart aflutter – to stop tumbling out.

Emile was frozen.

He stared, wide-eyed at his best friend.

“Oh,” was the only thing he could say, in a strangled voice.

He was sure that his face was already bright red.

“Great.” Remy sighed, removing his palm from his mouth and burying his face in his hands. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?” He mumbled just loud enough to be audible. “I- I know you don’t feel the same way, babe, and it’s fine. It’s totally, totally fine. I’m happy just being friends with you, ‘kay? You- you don’t have to return anything. It’s- it’s whatever. It’s chill.”

Emile’s brain had broken. He could hardly think anything other than the words ‘Remy’ and ‘love’ just over and over on repeat.

Instead of saying anything in response to that – as he wasn’t even sure if he could – he just suddenly burst into nervous, delighted laugher. Emile was sure he sounded like he was crazy, especially when Remy turned to him with a bewildered expression.

“Did- did you really mean that?” Emile asked when he could finally collect his thoughts enough to speak, which took slightly longer than he would have liked it to.

Remy blinked. Then, his expression softened.

“Of course, I did,” he said. “I’d never lie to you about something like this, Em.”

“So, you... you really mean it?” Emile asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Remy said. He hesitated for a moment, before nervously adding: “Do you- I mean, is it-”

“I love you, too.”

There was a beat.

Remy stared back at him, wide-eyed. The moment of silence was somehow simultaneously nerve-racking and also soft and so, so exciting, because, oh my gosh, Remy loved him. Remy loved him, he loved him, he loved him!

Love! Love! Love!

And, oh, heavens above, Emile was about to start wiggling excitedly because, gosh, he really, really just had to kiss Remy, right now. And maybe – maybe, maybe, maybe – Remy would say yes if he asked.

Emile let out another giggle, covering his mouth with his hand.

“You... you do?” Remy asked, eyes wide and hopeful, and Emile was suddenly glad that the sunglasses were propped up on his head, as his expression was always much easier to read that way.

“Yeah,” Emile responded, equally soft. “I really, really do.”

“Wow. Just- just wow.”

Emile reached forward, impulsively cupping Remy’s cheek with his hand, and Remy froze. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“Oh, gosh- sorry,” Emile apologised. “I should’ve asked-”

He moved to take his hand away, but was stopped by Remy covering Emile’s hand with his own.

“You’re good- you're- yes. Yes.”

And, well, that was exactly the answer that Emile had wanted to hear.

He leant forward, and finally – finally! – did the thing he’d most wanted to do for years. Years. Since the moment he’d first laid eyes on Remy, he’d thought about it.

He kissed Remy.

Softly. Carefully. Holding Remy’s face so delicately like he was holding something precious.

And the way Remy was kissing him back...

Emile had seen Remy kiss people before – strangers, friends – and he’d always kissed them like he was doing it for fun, not love. He’d never seen Remy kiss anyone as gently as Remy was kissing him, right now.

Bubbles of delight and fireworks of excitement were going off in Emile’s heart and his mind.

He sighed happily into the kiss, and he could suddenly feel Remy smile against his lips.

Emile broke the kiss with another delighted giggle and Remy couldn’t help but just start laughing with him, too. And, of course, that just made Emile’s giggles louder and more enthusiastic.

He was so focused on the laughing and the delighted feeling in his chest from the fact that he had just kissed Remy, that Emile didn’t immediately notice that Remy’s lips were suddenly pink – a light, pastel pink that certainly hadn’t been there before.

And, in fact, it was Remy who halted the laughter first, by freezing in place and staring – yet again wide-eyed – at Emile’s own lips.

Emile paused, and tilted his head in confusion.

“Remy?”

Remy opened and closed his mouth a few times, never taking his eyes off of Emile’s lips.

“Em... your- your lips.”

Emile blinked. He reached a hand up to his own lips, and swiped a finger across them. He then looked back down at his hand, and found nothing – no blood, no anything.

He paused, and then turned his head to look at the mirror that hung on an opposite wall.

His eyes landed on his reflection, and he finally noticed that there was a smear of shiny silver across his lips that definitely, definitely hadn’t been there before.

Emile sucked in a breath as Remy turned his head to look into the mirror, and he realised that Remy’s lips were now a lipstick-like pink, when he certainly hadn’t been wearing any just before the pair had kissed.

“We’re-” Remy started.

“Oh,” Emile breathed.

“Oh,” Remy echoed.

They turned their heads to stare at each other, equally wide-eyed and shocked and excited.

Soulmates.

They were soulmates.

And then Remy surged forward, and kissed Emile again.

#me #writing #remile #sanders shorts #cartoon therapy #emile picani #remy sanders #sleep sanders #fluff #human au #soulmate au #first kiss

265 notes · View notes

justlightlysedated · 3 years

Note

Kiss prompt 31? So excited at the prospect at maybe getting something new from you! 💜

31) Lips brushing against each other’s briefly, unsure of whether or not to kiss, before someone finally connects in a deep kiss

Alex is studying, reading over the last chapter and taking notes since Mrs. Baxter’s lectures are mostly unintelligible, when someone sits on the seat across from him.

Alex doesn’t look up, because it’s a free library and everyone can sit wherever they want, but after a few minutes of a stare so intense Alex felt it like a literal caress, he looked up and then promptly wished that he hadn’t.

Michael Guerin was sitting down across from him, dressed up like an emo cowboy, which it wasn’t like Alex could talk with the way that he dressed, but the black cowboy hat was a choice that Michael woke up every morning and made, while completely sober.

He doesn’t look away as Alex looks up at him, which is unusual. He just intensifies his gaze like he’s looking for something. Alex just stares at him blankly, for a second before he looks back down at his book.

It’s better, at least for him, to just ignore Michael. If Alex doesn’t give him a reaction, Michael eventually gets bored and leaves him alone, which is all Alex wants.

He gets enough unwanted attention at home.

“Tell me what you know about Ortecho,” Michael says, and Alex’s head snaps up at that, narrowing his eyes, wondering what the hell Michael wants with any of the Ortechos, and Michael leans in closer, tilting his head and looking at Alex curiously, like Alex did something that he hadn’t been expecting.

“What do you want with Liz?” Alex demands, and Michael grins at him, leaning back in his chair.

“Just wondering what makes her tic.”

Alex shakes his head, and looks back down to his notes, dismissing Michael. It’s not like he’s going to tell him anything, and telling Michael to stay away from Liz isn’t going to actually do anything, not when he could guess the reason why Michael was becoming so interested.

He had been in the Crashdown last night when Liz had fought with Kyle and had gotten comforted by Max.

Michael had only been in Roswell for six months, but he already had a reputation that basically warned everyone to stay away from Isobel and Max or else face a confrontation at the end of the knives tucked into the sides of Michael’s boots.

“Really?” Michael says, sounding slightly incredulous. “She’s dating the bigotted asshole who goads you into a fight on a daily basis.”

“Liz has horrible taste in men,” Alex says flatly, not bothering to look up. “That doesn’t make her any less one of my best friends.”

Michael clicks his tongue in disappointment, and then leaves.

Alex ignores the utterly ridiculous feeling of disappointment curling in the pit of his stomach at being left alone, and continues to take notes.

The next day, Alex gets to the Crashdown for his shift and finds Michael leaning back against the lamppost right in front, boots crossed at the ankles, body almost at a forty-five degree angle, hands stuffed in his pockets, the damn black cowboy hat dipped low enough to cover his face.

He almost looks like he’d fallen asleep there, and somehow, Alex doesn’t doubt that it’s possible. Michael has been known to fall asleep in the weirdest places, in the weirdest positions.

Before he can ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, Kyle is bursting out of the doors and heading straight for Michael like a bull.

“What the actual fuck, Guerin?” he says, reaching forward to grab Michael, jostling him enough that his hat falls to the floor. “What makes you think it’s okay to just threaten someone who has never done anything to you? You’re lucky Liz is so nice and forgiving or else-”

Kyle stops talking like he ran out of air, a squeak cutting off the flow of words, his hands dropping from where they’d been clenched in Michael’s black jean jacket, but Michael just pushes, stalking forward and trapping Kyle right against the Crashdown door, the switchblade that had been in his pocket pressed to Kyle’s neck.

“Or else what?” he says, sounding honestly curious.

Kyle swallows hard, and doesn’t seem to be able to find anything to say.

Alex looks over to the inside of the diner, and he sees Liz staring at the scene with wide eyes, and saying something to Mr. Ortecho and shaking her head.

Alex sighs, and looks back to where Michael is still looking at Kyle expectantly.

“Guerin,” Alex says, and Michael tilts his head to the side, towards Alex, but he doesn’t move. “Do you really think that you’d be able to get away with murder with these many witnesses?”

Michael exhales like he’s disappointed, but he steps away from Kyle, turning to give Alex a look, before he moves towards where his hat is still on the floor.

Kyle looks at Alex, and Alex can see the gratitude in his eyes, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t get this twisted,” he tells Kyle venomously. “I didn’t do this for you. I just don’t think that Mr. Ortecho needs to deal with the mess your death will leave behind.”

Kyle swallows hard, and there is something like regret in his gaze before he’s looking away from Alex to where Liz is, and then he just nods his head and leaves, heading towards his car.

“You know,” Michael says, the pout clear in his tone, and Alex sighs, looking up to the sky and wondering what the hell he ever did to deserve someone like Michael Guerin in his life. “Everytime that I think I’ve got you pegged, you go ahead and change it up on me. You don’t like that asshole. The world is better off without his homophobia.”

Alex sighs again, and turns to face Michael.

He wants to ask what Michael’s damage is that he’d immediately turn to knives and murder than literally any other method of problem solving, but at the same time, he really doesn’t want to know.

“Just because Kyle is an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to be gutted like a fish in the middle of the sidewalk.”

Michael gives him a look like Alex is naive and doesn’t know any better, “You are way too nice, Manes. It’s going to end up knocking you on your ass one of these days.”

Alex rolls his eyes, “I prefer that than being a bitter, cynical, knife wielding psycho.”

Michael frowns, putting his guard up so fast that Alex blinks a little in surprise.

“Yeah well, at least I can defend myself if someone who is supposed to be taking care of me comes at me with raised fists, can you say the same?” he hisses through his teeth, and stalks closer to Alex, eyes darting down to where Alex has a bruise on his shoulder from landing against the corner of the table, almost like he knows the bruise is there.

Alex just swallows hard and doesn’t say anything and Michael just scoffs, and then puts his hat on before he’s turning around and walking away.

Alex watches him leave and only moves when Liz comes out to ask him if he’s okay.

Alex is walking out of his last morning class, wondering if he would have time to drop by the Wild Pony and eat lunch with Maria before having to come back for his one thirty class when he spots Michael sitting down in one of the tables that dot the edges of the quad.

Alex slows down to a stop, and then tells himself that he really doesn’t want to deal with Michael and whatever it is that he thinks he knows about Alex, when Michael turns his face and looks right at Alex, tilting his head in a beckoning gesture.

Alex is walking over to him before he’s consciously made the decision to. He slows his footsteps as he gets closer to the table, and he’s not entirely surprised when Michael pulls up a brown paper bag from his lap, with the Crashdown logo at the front and sets it down on top of the table.

“What? No milkshake?” Alex says as he drops his messenger bag down on the floor and takes a seat across from Michael.

Michael leans down and pulls up a milkshake, paper cup wet with condensation and some of the green colored milkshake that’s melted and sliding down from below the lid.

Alex huffs out a breath, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth so that he doesn’t actually smile, and then he gives in and grabs the bag, pulling out what is obviously his lunch.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says, after Alex sets everything in front of himself and grabs the burger, wrapper crinkling as he opens it.

Alex stops moving and looks at Michael incredulously.

Michael is avoiding his gaze, so Alex just sets his burger down and shakes his head. “You know, everytime that I think I’ve got you pegged, you go ahead and change it up on me.”

Michael scoffs, and turns to look at Alex, lips quirked up too much to be anything but a smile, “I shouldn’t have said what I said. I just don’t like being called a psycho, and I thought that we understood each other.”

The way he says the word ‘understood’ tells Alex what he’s always feared, that the second that Michael looked at him, when they first met, when Alex had been taking their order, and Michael had been sitting between Max and Isobel in one booth at the Crashdown, he’d seen a kindred spirit.

Alex inclines his head once, and grabs the burger again, “And I don’t like it when people tell me that I’m too nice.”

Michael just inclines his head, copying Alex, and just like that Alex knows that they have another understanding.

“I’ve been thinking about picking up a few classes here next semester,” Michael says after a few minutes of silence where Alex finished half of his burger and most of his fries.

“Because going to Roswell Community College is better than continuing at UNM?”

Michael gives him a surprised look, like he hadn't been expecting Alex to know about that, but Max liked to brag about Michael, almost like a proud dad talking about his favorite son, and Alex had been trapped more than once at the milkshake bar, just listening to Max talk.

Michael just shakes his head and leans back in his seat, playing with the paper wrapper that Alex had peeled off from the straw.

“It’s not about the quality of the education,” he says, sounding derisive. “There are things here that Santa Fe doesn’t have.”

Alex raises one eyebrow in question.

Michael just rolls his eyes and tosses the rolled up piece of paper at Alex, hitting him on the cheek.

Alex just continues to eat his lunch and ignores the heat he can feel flashing across his cheeks.

Alex is sitting at the same spot he always sits in the library, but he's got his foot kicked up on one of the chairs, since the doctor had told him to keep it elevated, and his hoodie was pulled up and low over his forehead so that he could avoid people staring at the bruise that colored the left side of his face.

It was pretty late, and the library was going to close soon, but Alex barely noticed that as he worked on the problems for his Calculus homework with his earbuds securely in place.

He's got one more problem to do, when something metal and shiny clatters on top of his Calculus textbook.

It takes him a second to realize that it's a knife, one of those throwing knives that are all metal, with a hole on the end you're supposed to hold, and another second to realize exactly who it belongs to.

Still, he stupidly looks up into Michael's pissed off face, that grows even more furious as he takes in the bruise on the side of Alex's face.

Alex looks away from him, picking up the knife by sticking the end of his pencil into the hole on the handle and holds it out to Michael.

"You dropped this," he says.

"Take it," Michael says, almost talking over him.

Alex's eyes snap to his face at that, "What?"

Michael just inhales, nostrils flaring slightly as he grabs the knife and then holds it out to Alex, the blade pressed against the palm of his hand.

"Take. It," he repeats, the two words each heavy and blunt.

"What?" Alex repeats incredulously.

"Take it," Michael says one more time. "And the next time he comes at you, defend yourself."

Alex shakes his head once, sharply and then he begins to put his books into his bag, standing up too fast, and almost forgetting all about his badly sprained ankle in the process.

He gasps weakly, and drops his bag to plant his hands down on top of the table to help keep his balance as the pain begins to radiate up his leg.

He breathes through the pain and then pushes away from the table, being careful not to shift his weight to his right leg, and he grabs his bag, ignoring Michael who he can feel like a bomb that's about to go off, and walks out of the library, waving to the librarian Ms. Wayne as he goes.

She gives him a polite smile but Alex can tell that she's worried about him.

Michael doesn't let him get too far.

He speeds up his steps and walks around Alex, stopping right in front of him and forcing Alex to stop or bump into him.

"Take it," Michael says again, but he's not brandishing the knife in his face, almost like he already knows that Alex isn't going to take it, but he still wants to instigate this argument.

"No," Alex says firmly, and just gives Michael a look when Michael grits his teeth and glares.

"My dad is an ex airman who was the Master Sergeant before he was dishonorably discharged. If I came at him with a knife, he'd turn it on me before I could even hope to defend myself. I'm not giving him something else to use against me."

Michael is still glaring but not as intensely as before.

Alex just sighs and keeps speaking, "I'm going to be eighteen in a few weeks, and with the money I have saved I'll be able to get my own place, and I'll be legally an adult, able to take care of myself and he won't be able to touch me ever again."

Michael looks away from Alex, a frown on his face, like he understands Alex's logic, but doesn't like it.

"You can still take the knife," he says, looking back at Alex, something pleading in his gaze. "Just so I can feel better."

Alex shakes his head, "Why is this so important to you?"

Michael gives Alex a look like he's questioning his intelligence, and then he steps closer, and it's not like he wasn't already standing inside of Alex's personal space bubble, but this puts him so close that Alex can feel the sweltering heat that he seems to constantly give off no matter what.

Michael doesn't seem to be satisfied with that and he takes another step closer, so that there is no space between them, and Alex can feel Michael's chest expanding as he breathes in.

Alex inhales shakily and thinks about taking a step backwards, but he's punched in the stomach with Michael's scent, spicy and warm from his fading cologne, but also he can smell sweat and oil and bourbon and something underneath that that reminds Alex of the way the air smells right before a summer rain shower.

It's intoxicating, and Alex is leaning towards the smell before he can stop himself, wanting to know if he sticks his nose against Michael's throat, if the smell will be stronger.

Michael huffs, something too much like a laugh, and Alex's eyes flutter open (when had he even closed them?) and Michael is entirely too close, and from this close, his eyes look so big and dark and hypnotic.

But there is something in his gaze, something that Alex recognizes deep in the pit of his stomach, and Alex feels it click into realization, the reason why Michael wants Alex to keep a knife with him.

It's not just that he wants Alex to be safe because he cares about him, but it's also exactly that, but this time, Alex knows that he means it as something else, something more.

The silent understanding sweeps through him, and he sees the moment that Michael figures it out, because his gaze goes softer, and his lips curve into a small smile.

Alex's eyes drop to Michael's mouth, very obviously, and Michael breathes in sharply.

Alex looks back up into Michael's eyes, and he tilts his chin up, swaying even closer, close enough that their noses brush together.

Alex breathes in shakily, and Michael shuffles even closer, his hands coming up to rest gently on Alex's arms.

Michael tilts his head and their lips brush together so lightly that Alex wouldn't call it a kiss, but he feels it sweeping through him like a wildfire, a sensation so sudden and so sharp that Alex shudders with it.

"Alex," Michael says, voice so low that Alex can barely hear him. "I'm going to kiss you now."

Their lips brush together with every word that he says, and Alex feels dizzy and shivery and his stomach is trembling, and he thinks that he might actually go crazy if Michael doesn't actually kiss him, so instead of waiting for Michael to finally move, Alex does.

He lifts his hands up to Michael's face and holds him still, right before he pushes their mouths together.

Michael inhales sharply, going so still that Alex thinks for a second he did something wrong and then Michael surges against him, digging his fingers into Alex's biceps and parts his mouth against Alex's, pressing the tip of his tongue to Alex's mouth.

Alex opens his mouth to Michael's and loses himself in the kiss, dragging his fingers to the back of Michael's head and into his hair, which feels much softer than he'd imagined.

Alex loses track of time as they kiss, and he feels lightheaded with the lack of air, but everytime that Michael pulls back, Alex pulls him back in, not wanting to stop the kiss.

Michael sways a little and pulls Alex with him, and Alex takes a step to the side, and has to pull away from Michael as pain radiates up his leg because he once again forgot about the sprain.

"Fuck," he says into the space between them, breathing heavily.

Michael tugs him in more securely against him, encouraging Alex to lean his weight on him and not on his foot, and Alex wraps his arms around Michael's neck and leans against him, pressing their foreheads together.

"Let me take you home," Michael says, voice breathless and hoarse, hands restless against Alex's back.

Alex nods his head slowly, as he leans in closer and kisses Michael again.

#an au where michael doesn’t make it back to roswell until after he’s eighteen #taking that tiny feral michael energy and running with it #also this is over 3k how did that even happen #who knows??#also thank you for the prompt #i hope you like this #can you tell ive just reread the aftg series and have been drowning in andriel fics the last two weeks????#this makes me want to write a malex aftg au tbh #tw for the war crime jesse manes #tw for knives even though they're not actually used #let me know if i should tag something else!!#malex fic #malexprompts2021 #long post

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toomanyopinionss · 3 years

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Ok, so I’m gonna be real with y’all...

I gave this slow the benefit of the doubt, DESPITE the ugly trailer, the whitewashing, etc. I really REALLY tried. But then I realized what they did wrong:

Bloom. I’ve seen this all TOO often. When the main girl has all of these issues and problems, and then the supporting characters... OH NO SORRY, the other MAIN CHARACTERS... have no CHOICE but to drop everything and and help her out. I mean, there was this one moment when they were in class, and Aisha was struggling with this assignment. Bloom had succeeded and I THOUGHT that she was gonna help Aisha out. Boy, was I wrong. This bitch made it all about her, everyone else’s problems be damned. She even went so far as to be upset when Aisha was trying to study and wasn’t listening to her complain about one thing or the other... my girl, THE WORLD DOES NOT REVOLVE AROUND YOU. Ugh, so selfish.

Riven. What exactly is his character? At first glance, he seemed like a harmless bisexual guy who’s never sober and doesn’t like responsibility. But then he latched onto Beatrix (who we will get to later) and it’s like the show didn’t even know what to do with him!!! His friendship with Sky is forced at best, toxic at worst. His relationship with Dane brought to light the blatant biphobia, as well as homophobia in the show. Round of applause. I mean, in the beginning, riven told Beatrix that the only reason he was getting close to Dane was to embarrass him because of Dane’s SEXUAL ORIENTATION???!!! (please tell me if I read that wrong, I hope that I did. It’s 2021, what the fuck.)

The WiNx GiRlS. Wow. I don’t even know where to begin. So let me just list them off:

Stella is too Regina George for my liking, with no character development. Yes, I’m aware she had the entire situation with her mom, but I’m talking about her relationship with the girls specifically. When did she become friends with them?! Anyways...

Flora. Oh SORRY! Terra. I get what they were trying to do. Fatphobia still exists in the media today. I mean, I’m plus sized! But the way they portrayed her. The way they made her look like the most annoying girl in the room whenever she so much as opened her mouth. The bullying she received from people she was friends with in the past (I’m so serious. Apparently riven used to be friends with her or something, and then he was so quick to insult her... I don’t even know). I felt myself cringing through the entire series as her friends would consistently comment about how she’s “too much” or “her outfits aren’t it” or how “she’s so dramatic.” Disappointing.

Techna. Oops sorry, forgot. NEXT.

Musa. So... she’s an empath. An emo-empath. I don’t exactly know how to feel about this. I don’t even call her musa in my head, tbh. Where is her personality? Where is her backstory? Her opinions? Her beliefs? This show portrays itself as such a forward-looking, women empowerment type of show, but at the end of the day, it’s all talk no show. Musa’s entire character was defined by 3 things. Her powers. Her boyfriend. And her headphones.

Aisha. WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL. You’re really gonna sit there and tell me that this girl... the only girl who functions on COMMON SENSE, mind you... is supposed to be a main character. When she thinks about herself, for once, she’s selfish. When she does the right thing, she gets hate. Her powers are only used to assist bloom. Her exist is only used to assist bloom. This girl got A WHOLE ASS JOB IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SCHOOL YEAR to assist bloom. Three words: fuck. this. show.

Beatrix...

So anyways... that’s the show. If u want me to rant more, let me know. I’ve got a looooot of anger in me.

#2020 #fate series #fate the winx saga #the winx saga #the winx club #it’s a no from me #netflix #you don messed up

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snorlaxlovesme · 4 years

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Walk Me Home

So I guess I wrote this fic for a SoMa week prompt last year and then didn’t post it??? I found it in my drafts and was really confused what a fully completed one-shot was doing staring back at me lmao

So. Here’s a fic for I think the “2am” prompt. Title a reference to the P!nk song, since I’m pretty sure I spammed it while writing this.

____________________

“Hey. Hey!”

Maka hears Soul’s voice call out from behind her, but she doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t want to talk right now; she wants to leave.

“Jesus, why are you walking so fast? Slow down, fuck’s sake.”

The grit of the sidewalk digs painfully into the heels of her bare feet. It doesn’t slow her down, nor does it stop her. In fact, when she hears Soul’s panting from behind her, she petulantly picks up her speed until his hand is landing on her shoulder and pulling her to a stop. He tugs her around despite her best efforts to keep walking.

“Hey, you wanna tell me what the problem is? Why did you leave the party?” He doesn’t even look mad at her, just concerned, which somehow makes her just feel worse. Soul continues, “I went to go talk to Kid for a few minutes and when I came back everyone said you left. Did something happen?”

Clearly something must have happened. She knows he can see it all over her expression, in the way she bolted away from him. Hell, he can probably feel waves of it coming directly from her soul.

But she doesn’t want to talk, so she pulls her shoulder away from his grasp and keeps walking, marching towards the direction of home, probably. She’s still a little tipsy, even though she only had a couple drinks at the party. But whoever Kid hires to bartend at the Gallows Mansion has a heavy hand when it comes to mixing drinks. Either her cocktails were stronger than normal or Maka really is the lightweight every assumes she is. She keeps walking despite her protesting feet and the way the world is swaying around her.

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me?” Soul asks, still trailing behind her. She can feel his hand come to rest on her shoulders every now and again, steadying her when she tips a bit too far in one direction, but pulling away once she’s righted herself. Protecting her while also respecting her boundaries. It’s infuriating.

Soul keeps talking to her back. “Was it something it something Black Star said? You know how Star gets when he’s drunk. He’s got no fucking boundaries.”

It’s not Black Star. It’s not anyone specifically. It’s just everyone. It’s everything. It’s nothing. She doesn’t want to explain it, because that would just be another weakness to add to the ever-growing pile.

“I can kick his ass if you want,” Soul keeps trying, knowing full-well that he could never take Black Star in a fight. The pathetic offer almost makes her smile, but she gulps it down and tries not to cry.

Soul circles around in front of her. “Look, you don’t have to tell me, but could you please stop for a sec? You’re not wearing any shoes and your feet are gonna get all fucked up. There could be glass or something.” Maka, being Maka, doesn’t give a damn about potential dangers to herself, and continues marching forward, leaving Soul to roll his eyes and pick up his pace to catch up with her again. She’s trying not to look at him, but she can see the way his eyes widen in his ‘I have an idea’ face, and two seconds later he’s transformed into a scythe in front of her, hovering a few feet off the ground beside her. His wings flap quickly and silently to keep steady beside her.

“Please?” His voice comes his weapon form, tinny and desperate.

Now Maka is the one rolling her eyes. His winged-form only rubs salt in her emotional wounds, but her feet are admittedly in a lot of pain after almost a half mile of walking on cracked concrete. She concedes and throws a leg over his handle. She grabs onto him with both hands, expecting him to whisk her away to their apartment above the buildings of Death City. Soul surprises her by hovering another foot in the air, so her feet don’t drag on the cement, but flying at the same pace she was walking.

The quiet extends before them into the night. The farther they get from the Gallows, the harder it is to hear the booming bass of the music. Soul lets Maka direct them with her soul through the residential neighborhoods and away from crowded streets. She started this walk with the intention of being alone.

But, ten times out of ten she’d rather be with Soul.

She swallows. “Do you care what people think about you?”

On a normal day he’d snark at her for finally deeming him worthy of conversation, but today he’s quiet as he thinks of what response she might be looking for. She can feel he’s trying to pick apart the meaning of this starting question, but eventually just decides to answer honestly.

“Yeah. All the time.”

It’s the truth, Maka can feel in his soul that it is, but she still doesn’t believe it. In the time that Maka has known Soul, he’s grown so much. She’s always admired the way he just lets things roll off his shoulders, not giving a shit what others think about him. Maybe he’s just been faking it, but he does a damn good job playing the Cool Guy he’s always wanted to be as a kid. He makes Maka’s version of the same kind of make-believe feel like child’s play. No one believes in her flimsy brand of confidence.

“Do you care what people think about us?” she asks.

There’s always been something in the way people talk about the two of them. Soul, the powerful, confident demon weapon that took down Arachne and helped save the world from madness on the moon. Maka, the meister who just managed to hold on for the ride. Maybe that’s not exactly what they say, but it’s implied. In the way other students will look at him with admiration, with appreciation, and then how they look at her, like they’re surprised it was little unstable Maka Albarn who managed to produce a Death Scythe. She knows she’s weak, but do people have to throw it in her face all the time? Like she was the last person they expected to be helpful in the apocalypse?

Even at a freaking party there are people coming up to Soul and asking him for autographs while Maka stands right next to him. Like somehow they know the exact imbalance of strength between Soul and Maka and they’re disappointed in Maka the same way she is with herself.

Just thinking about it has her unconsciously pulling Soul forward down the street a little faster. She breathes deeply. Just a few more minutes and she’ll be home.

Soul finally speaks, breaking her out of her own internal pity party.

“No.”

Maka blinks.

No?

“Our partnership is no one’s business but ours. If people have something to say about it, whatever. I only care about one person’s opinion when it comes to our partnership. And that’s you.”

God, it’s such a simple yet complete answer. And he’s totally right, like always. She doesn’t know why she gives a shit what other people think about her and Soul. None of it matters in the end, but God, does Maka wish for once that when she thought of the word “strength” she could picture herself embodying that word instead of never measuring up. Instead of feeling guilty for somehow always thinking she’s holding Soul back.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?”

Maka’s soul spikes so suddenly in surprise that Soul comes to a halt in the middle of the street.

“I’m serious. I know you wanna be the best meister you can be, but you’re too stuck in your own head to realize how fucked I would be without you as my partner.” He quiets in a way that means he’s gathering his words, and Maka listens with bated breath.

“You’re the smartest and bravest person I know, okay? And you’re also a reckless moron who pulls some of the craziest shit in battle that I’ve ever seen in my life. It sucks that I have to keep saying this to you, but I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it. The only reason I ever had a prayer of becoming of a Death Scythe was because you’ve been my meister. Stop thinking that you’re not good enough, because you’re better than every asshole at the party. You did something they never could and now never will be able to do.”

Maka closes her eyes for a few heartbeats, allowing this to sink in. Even now, at 2am with the sky pitch dark because of the blackened moon, it’s hard to imagine that she was involved in that fight. She helped save the world and she’s still convinced that she’s somehow not good enough. Maybe Soul’s right, and what they have could only be accomplished with the two of them together. Maybe no one else matters but her and Soul.

“Soul? Transform for me, will you?”

Without hesitation, Soul morphs back into human form, holding her now on piggyback instead of on his weapon form. The shift from being supported by his handle to hanging off his backside is so natural that Maka doesn’t even have to think about it, just adjusts her arms so they’re tighter across his shoulders. She presses her face into the side of his neck in gratitude.

“You always know what to say, you know that?”

Soul snorts and hops a little to scoot her higher up his back. “It’s easy when your soul is practically screaming at me what you’re upset about.” He starts walking again, refusing to put her down because of his stubborn insistence that she’ll hurt her feet. “So. Party sucked for you too, then?”

Now it’s Maka’s turn to snort. All of a sudden the night’s whole emo conclusion feels very overstated. She feels foolish for being so dramatic but remembers that Soul thinks she’s strong even when she’s a drama queen. Depends on her even when she gets caught up in her own head. The reminder calms her soul down considerably.

“Think I drank too much,” she says, nestling closer to his back and laying her arms heavily over his shoulders to remain balanced. “Ox said some dumb shit about me being the weaker partner and it made me sad.”

“Alcohol is a depressant,” Soul says, kind of snooty. He’s repeating what she’s told him on his Moody Drinking nights.

“Wait a minute,” Soul says. “Did you say Ox? Who the fuck is he to talk about being a weak partner?”

“I thought you said you don’t care what anyone thinks about us.”

“Yeah, but that was before I found out it was fucking Ox Ford who was talking down to you. I could totally take his ass in fight.”

Maka laughs for the first time all night. Soul continues ranting all the way home about how he’s going to beat Ox’s face in the next time he saw him (he won’t) and Maka thinks that maybe real strength is remembering that you always have someone on your side.

#soma #soul x maka #soul eater #soul eater evans #maka albarn #like its not the BEST thing ive ever written but damn kelly you could have at least POSTED IT #se fic #my writing

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fanfictiondreamscape · 4 years

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The Ouran Academy Deviant

Request: if not already requested...May I request Bad Reputation for Haruhi from Ohshc x Female reader?

Title: The Ouran Academy Deviant

Genre: songfic~, a lil comedic (just a little bit - if you squint you might see it), and slightly romantic. still very floofy tho, WOO.

Pairing: Haruhi Fujioka x Fem! Reader

Notes: The influx of Ouran requests that have flown in is making me melt, seriously. Dead fandoms are really becoming my primary writing topics now, aren’t they? Either way, I love this request and feel like this could go in so many new directions that mimic total bbe - and the pairing just makes everything feel so much more powerful. Like, Haruhi and a total troublemaker? YES.

This is extremely long, as well, so prepare to read something that is (arguably) longer than anything else in this vein that I have written.

Also, I felt like this would work amazingly in one-shot form, and I took some slight liberties. That being said, proceed with caution. The only thing I would warn you about is vulgar language!

Below the cut!

Haruhi Fujioka and (L/n) (Y/n), the odd couple of Ouran Academy. One is a scholarship student, in a club, with a clean track record. She comes off as kind, intelligent, respectable to the utmost level - especially so for dealing with things in the particular way that she does.

(Y/n), on the other hand? She skips school, could care less about her grades, and decides to forego the uniform whenever she does go to school. She sneaks off to do very unladylike things, comes off as incredibly intimidating, and appears to be someone rewarded by fear rather than respect.

The two could not be more different, but the one thing that drove them together was simple: Tamaki.

(Y/n)’s older cousin was the one that dragged her to school that day, he was the one that introduced her to the club after a tiring day at school that consisted of her slacking off in class and skipping in the academy bathrooms, he was the one that provided an easy form of detention for her when she got penalized by the staff.

During the time that she was cleaning and helping in club duties, she had run into Haruhi in her work, and despite what she had said, Haruhi still helped her. “I don’t give a damn, you’re a host aren’t you? Go woo some chicks over on those couches.”

Normally, that would’ve been the end of things. Which makes the next events more shocking.

...

Tamaki had noticed his cousin and his newly-appointed apprentice working together, and in their battle of wits and capabilities, he also picked up on their chemistry. From then on, he was driven to make the two a couple. Though, his methods are extremely unconventional.

One random day, he had invited (Y/n) to his mansion, dragged her to his bedroom and shared a talk with her. She had initially come off as disinterested, but his attitude made her open a bit more.

“Sooo, my dearest cousin, I have a proposition for you!” he had declared. (Y/n)’s interest was peaked, but a part of her advised her to avoid asking. That side lost to her curiousity.

“And what may that be, because if it so happens to be one of your over-the-top plans to try and get me to drag my ass to school I’m leaving.” Tamaki played the dramatics before getting to the point.

“Oh, dear (Y/n), it is nothing of the sort. It is a resolution to a problem of yours, though.”

The (h/c) raised an eyebrow, leaning in and nodding. “Go on.”

The blonde let a small smirk settle on his face, and when he had announced his idea to her, she jumped up and was already on her way to leave the room.

“Wait, wait, wait! Hear me out, please!” She paused, took in a deep breath and rolled her eyes before allowing herself to continue speaking. (Y/n) didn’t need this amount of annoyance before she left to wreak more havoc, but she also didn’t want to send the only person that cared enough to help her to his emo corner.

“What if I say yes to this? What’s the catch gonna be? I’m not jumping from Class-C to Class-A just so you can play the part of the savior.”

“Well, first of all: you wouldn’t be bored. You have already shown that you are highly intelligent, you just need the proper amount of stimulation. You can get there!” She paused, then nodded, and gestured for Tamaki to continue. “Second of all: you need something to do during school other than vandalize the alley walls and bathroom stalls. You’re extremely pretty, and-”

“And I’m going.”

“Wait! Let me finish, I promise that you won’t absolutely hate it,” he pleaded. (Y/n) was still hesitant to go along with his plan, but again - don’t want to send the only person that cared enough to help her to his emo corner.

“Fine, but make it quick.”

Cue the sparkling eyes.

“Thank you! Anyway, I think you should join the Host Club. We can open it up to girls that want to appeal, and this would make your record look better for the future! After all, you want to succeed, right?”

With a sigh, (Y/n) walked back to the bed and sat down. She had to debate the idea - she did want to do well following high school, and she did know that the way she was going halfway through the year wouldn’t be good for doing just that. Tamaki was right to advise her of this, but she didn’t want any obligations tying her down for the rest of her high school career.

Tamaki was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he watched his rough-and-tumble cousin run the benefits and drawbacks in her head. His lips were pursed and his hands were drawn to his chest tightly, gripped with anticipation.

“I’ll think about it. You are right, I’ll give you that, but the likelihood that things would be that easy right now is low,” she answered calmly. She had a tone of seriousness as she spoke, and it was laced with fear.

He had heard the way that she went about her response, and while he was admittedly a little disappointed that she wasn’t jumping for joy at his idea, he also knew that she didn’t work like that and didn’t intend to work like that. This was the best possible scenario for an answer that he could get, and that thought excited him.

“You won’t regret it, I promise! Let me know after you think it through, I can get you prepared and set quickly!” (Y/n) nodded hesitantly, and then got up to leave.

“I’m gonna leave, but I have a lot to think about, now...” she paused, a small flurry of red crossing over her face at the thought of what she was about to say next. ‘Thanks’ wasn’t a word in her dictionary, but now? It may have to be.

“...Thanks, Tamaki.”

His head darted up at her figure as he leapt up with joy and hugged her tightly. He had also lifted her up and managed to spin her around before she kicked him in the shin and got dropped. When Tamaki hit the floor gripping his leg, she was already walking down the hall and alerting the maids of her departure.

...

Now, she sat in Class-A in her second year. The twins were sat behind her and didn’t bother trying to prank her, no one in class was brave enough to stand up to her or correct her when she exhibited some unladylike behavior in class, and some guys that were deemed crazy by the school populace attended the host club to chat with the new ‘Wild’ type. (Following Mori and Honey-senpai’s graduation, of course)

(Sad boi hours-)

She was surprisingly popular according to the polls that Kyoya had taken, and when taking this into consideration, she became the go-to for information from the club’s king himself.

Despite Tamaki’s initial intentions, though, she had only become more quiet and focused on causing more harm outside of school hours.

On multiple occasions, she had gone to the bathrooms and decided to tag the windows with an ‘X’ after covering them in black paint. She had also gone outside to rearrange what she could in the garden after blocking any cameras that would pick up her actions.

Safe to say, she still maintained the reputation that she had achieved in her first year attending.

Her antics were also upped by a new friendship with the twins. She had begun to teach them ways around the school and new ideas for pranks, some that would push the school regulations harshly, and joined them in their endeavors to terrorize certain students that would do certain things to them or someone they cared about.

Otherwise, Tamaki was happy to see another facet of his plan come alive - Haruhi and (Y/n). The two were beginning to get along very well, very quick. It seemed as if the new year and new experiences lit a fire under the (h/c)’s ass, and she had begun to talk more. At least, to people she knew wouldn’t wimp out due to her words and actions.

The change had made the blonde leap out of happiness, the observation that his most treasured cousin was beginning to grow up and become a better person - at a slow pace, but still, there’s improvement.

“(Y/n), you’ve got some customers waiting for you,” Kyoya informed her, making said female groan in frustration.

“They only come here to try and get into my pants, and they still think I’m gonna give those sleaze-bags a chance after the fuck-ton amount of times I’ve told them off.” She stood up despite her statement, brushing off her black skirt and pulling her tie down just the slightest to make herself presentable. “Whatever, I know you’re gonna crucify me if I don’t do it - money, after all.”

A smirk settled on Kyoya’s face as he watched her reluctance. “Of course, dear. Don’t want to keep those undergarment-chasers waiting, do we?” (Y/n) rolled her eyes. “If they try anything, leave and let someone know, of course.”

She chuckled at the taller male, “Of course, Ootori. I’m not dumb, I could easily put them in their place.”

The two shared a look before the female seated herself on the assigned couch.

...

The year was passing by quickly, and as her popularity rose, Haruhi’s attention to her became more evident. (Y/n), admittedly wasn’t oblivious to the attention that she was being provided, but she was oblivious to the attention she was providing.

Now, the two sat next to each other in the cafeteria and talked about whatever was on their mind (at least, they did this when (Y/n) decided to show up to eat there instead of setting up pranks for the staff members). The two were showing an immense amount of attraction to the other, yet they wouldn’t come to the realization that they were crushing on each other.

Even the Ouran Host Club graduates could pick up on the two’s liking to the other, despite not seeing them as often as they may have liked. When they did pop in, they tried to push the two together more often with the help of Tamaki himself and the twins. The whole of the club was in on a plan to get them together, sooner or later.

Sadly, that would have to wait for the group as (Y/n) had started to revert back into skipping habits not long after her and Haruhi had developed a close bond.

Though the school had pressed for the person that decided to skip school at least once a week (which was still an improvement from the three days minimum that she’d jump for previously), they still failed to punish her severely due to Tamaki’s pleading and cover-ups.

She was running thin, and frankly, her snark to other students was becoming more apparent. She had begun to let off more expletives than usual at anyone that pissed her off in the hallways, and would run to the bathrooms with no real explanation before planting herself in the nearest stall for the next class period.

This was starting to annoy staff, and Tamaki was walking an extremely tight rope due to it, but he was determined to help his cousin. He would stop at nothing to get her back to the person she was growing to be.

One day, a Thursday, (Y/n) had run off to the bathrooms yet again. This time, school had ended, and while he knew that this would be a brash decision for someone so self-proclaimed gentlemanly, he ran into the girl’s bathroom to tlak to her.

His footsteps weren’t the most silent, but he doubted she could hear him over the amount of mumbling she doing in the first stall.

“This isn’t really happening, you’re just imagining this. You just like them as a friend.”

Bingo.

“(Y/n)-chan?”

“The fuck- Tamaki? What the hell are you doing in the women’s restroom?”

The two left the area after letting Kyoya know that he and (Y/n) wouldn’t be attending to the club for a while. Despite his initial annoyance, Tamaki reassured him that it was something extremely important.

They had decided to walk around campus for a while, mostly in silence as he waited for her to talk. He knew better than to press her on topics such as this, especially at times like these.

“I’m worried.”

Tamaki’s violet eyes reflected worry, his brows furrowed in concern for (Y/n). “About what? You’ve gotten so much better, and you’ve told me that you like it. So, what’s worrying you?”

She sighed and gestured to the garden nearby with her head. Her eyes were silently pleading, acting as a way to indicate that she wanted to sit down. Whether that was out of fear for her emotions or Tamaki’s he was unaware, but he followed her outside and seated himself on the bench that had been laid before the lavender plants and roses.

“It’s...it’s Haruhi.” The girl paused, took a breath, and continued yet again. “I don’t know what...what I’m feeling for her..”

With a comforting hand resting on her shoulder, he spoke quietly. “What do you mean by that? You both enjoy each other’s company, from what she had said and you have shown. It isn’t contempt, is it?”

“No! No, it’s not that, it’s just...I think...I think I like her.”

Tamaki practically lit up at the statement. “You do? I swear, she does too, she’s just really oblivious. I can get you two together, but-”

“Tamaki, I appreciate the offer, but I know she doesn’t like people like me. Haruhi doesn’t like people that can’t keep the word ‘fuck’ out of their vocabulary for five seconds. She doesn’t like people that refuse to maintain a reputation that’s squeaky clean and extremely fucking poised. Worse yet, I know that even if she does like me, her reputation would be ruined by my shitty one - and that’s simply by default!”

Tamaki remained silent as she continued, his hand still resting on her shoulder as his raised arm fell to his side slowly. He leaned in to listen to what she had to say closer. “I don’t want to drag her into my bullshit, otherwise I would’ve said something already! She just - ugh - she deserves someone that isn’t so nasty.”

As she let her face settle into her cupped hands, he sighed. Some thinking had to do the job, because she had been making such good progress and she was gaining more proper respect because of it.

He knew she wouldn’t care otherwise, as she liked getting into trouble and basking in the adrenaline rush that came with the things that she did, but Haruhi had to remain well-mannered or else she’d be gone from the academy.

Then it hit him.

“How about this? You go home and think over this for the day, take a few days off from the club, and get some rest.” (Y/n) was listening attentively, wishing for something good to come from her cousin’s words. “Of course, you’d still have to attend school, but you could sneak some stuff in during break - you didn’t hear that from me.”

The female chuckled a little at his words, but she gestured for him to continue. “We were planning to have a ball soon, and Mori and Honey-senpai will be attending as prized guests. You can join us in hosting, but if you want to to, you can leave early.

“We want you to be as comfortable as you possibly can, after all - that, and.... Well, I know you and Haruhi like each other. I’m going to do whatever I can to make this happen.”

(Y/n) paused, seemingly frozen for a good second, before she leaped out of her seat and started smacking his shoulder. “What the fuck, Tamaki? You know that I don’t want that, she’ll be ruined! Anyway, she doesn’t like me! Seriously, how the hell do I handle you sometimes?”

Laughter left the male’s mouth as she slowed down, eventually letting her screaming cease in favor of a similar giggle. A gleeful smile gradually formed on her face, and the two finished their small sessions of laughter with panting.

“My god, Tamaki, you are one crazy asshole, aren’t you?” she inquired playfully, breaths peeking between the words as she regained her breath from her sudden actions.

In an abrupt action, Tamaki’s dramatic abilities came into play, feigning a face of horror as he uttered loudly. “That was extremely unladylike - you’re lucky I haven’t called for daddy!”

The (h/c) gagged before grabbing what she had of her things and flicking him. “Let’s go; I need to go home, and you need to go back to the host club.” The taller blonde dropped his act and followed suit.

As they left, a shorter figure stood by for a while after. A small brunette stood huddled tightly in formation to hide behind a pillar, having listened to the conversation that the two had shared.

The amount of vulgarities that lined (Y/n)’s speech was a little shocking, but that didn’t phase Haruhi as much as what the content of it did. ‘She...likes me? I never noticed, I just...wow.... Is this why she’s been going through my head so much?’

She smiled hopefully, making sure to run back to the host club before Kyoya had added anything more to her already over-the-top debts.

...

A few weeks had passed by now. More havoc was seen around the school from a week prior, all by (Y/n)’s doing, and the host club was back and full for the first time in a while.

The week was prefaced with the aforementioned female sitting behind a curtain doing whatever she needed to do while listening in on any and all meetings that the group shared. Her grades were the highest they’d ever been - something that both scared and calmed the teachers - and she had been saving time for after school to do anything that was particularly crazy. The best part of all of this was that she had not only been able to begin attending classes again, but that she had also begun to think.

Thinking about things helped her out now, and she managed to get away with many more annoying things before jumping the stealthy gun and going absolutely crazy with her pranks. It also helped her out with her emotions, and she had realized something very important.

Especially so since the ball that Tamaki had proposed they held was to be this weekend.

(Y/n) had been debating on what to do for the coming event, but eventually settled for her tendency to wing it for stuff like this. She had an idea of what she wanted to do, but things change and she wasn’t down to make any specific plans for the day.

Otherwise, there was something that she was heavily torn on. Her feelings towards the androgynous brunette host were getting harder to contain, the twins were starting to see the effects that had come with it, and they were holding a prank over her head if she were to avoid telling her soon. (Granted, they weren’t aware that she knew, but she had ways of getting information out of people - intimidation tactics definitely work.)

She wanted to yell them to Haruhi if that’s the last thing she did, but two turnouts hit her square in the face. What if she said no? Well, then she would be devastated, and considering that this is the first person that she has actually cared as much about (romantically, of course), she’d be worried. If that were to happen, would she push herself further into herself? Would she lose the progress she’d be getting? Maybe she’d permanently jeopardize her chances at a future?

On the other hand, what would happen if Haruhi said yes? Would she run away and claim that is was false, or would she stand by and be at a loss for words? What about Haruhi’s reputation? Normally, (Y/n) would be preaching and standing by her status as a deviant at the high end establishment, but this? This was different, and she knew this - it was inevitable that her reputation would follow Haruhi and ruin the already somewhat tainted one that she already had. Privileged prissy students were already something to tip-toe around for the beautiful and wealthy, but a poor scholarship student was bound to face more detrimental consequences by the student body.

The whole scenario was leaving the collected girl in an extremely confused mindset, and it was starting to peek out to anyone that was able to see that her notes had little doodles hidden in the lines of the topic notes. She knew how to hide it, but Tamaki - the normally oblivious prince - had been the person to see the coded messages in her notes when he was helping her with her work for a project.

The fear that was hitting her due to this was harsh, much more so than normal. For once, she was truthfully scared - she didn’t like it.

Haruhi, on the other hand, noticed her improving after the chat she had eavesdropped on a bit ago. She also, for once, noticed that (Y/n) had become a bit more interested in what she was doing, sometimes even trying things that she normally wouldn’t try.

From time to time, Haruhi would throw out a random idea for a prank that she had wanted to see as a joke, and it would have come up on the campus courtyard within the week. It flattered her, and seeing as she knew that (Y/n) was one to prank and cause trouble wherever, whenever, and for whatever? It made her flustered, frankly.

With the ball coming up soon, too, she was determined to relax for the night, hopefully with the (h/c) beside her. No fear, nothing, just an image of her and her continually-developing crush standing beside each other under the stars - cheesy imaging, sure, but she enjoyed the thought.

They both had opposing stances on the event, though, and that was what Tamaki had caught onto first. He had seen the glances that had seemingly become more representative of longing, and he wasn’t going to do it. He had a plan, and he’d be damned if it didn’t work.

...

“Ready, men?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Are the decorations in the room prepped?”

“Yes, sir!”

“How about the music?”

“Ready!”

“Great, now the scenery. Balcony completed?”

“You got it, boss!”

“Amazing! Now, boys, let’s go cater to some girls, hmm?”

The gaggle of hosts had gather together earlier than others, already coming prepared and dressed, excited for the formal evening. A plan was looming over their heads as well, and they were driven to get it completed to perfection.

The subjects? Haruhi and (Y/n), of course!

The two were unaware, courtesy of strict regulations regarding the scheme, and a new relationship was most definitely going to be formed later in the night. For benefit of both, privately, but they had to get the ship to sail.

While the boys were meeting, (Y/n) was at home going through her closet. Big fancy ballgowns were never up her alley despite the many times that her parents had tried to force her to wear them, but they had given up after she would wear them with some ‘improper’ shoes or switch the dress out for a button-down and formal pants.

She had run through all of the gowns in the front of the closet before reaching the back, finding where she hid all of her favorite formal clothing. It mainly consisted of options that people around her would normally trash her for, but she had persisted in her action to wear it.

There was a plethora of short dresses that she found comfortable, even some lighter colored ones that she would typically gag at and hide away from. There was a section strictly reserved for dress pants and shirts, and some ties were set up beside them on a shelf. There was even some shoes that she would wear for formality purposes if they were absolutely necessary (read: for future privilege purposes).

What stood out to her in her search of what to wear, though, was a silky (f/c) dress, complete with a small back lacing detail and a low-cut neckline. A pair of tights with a lacey pattern in black, a simple choker, and some sensible combat boots would tie the whole look together - might as well dress up to dress up and dress to impress while she’s at it.

She reached the garments, grabbing what she could fit in her hands and leaving said closet in choice of getting dressed.

Haruhi was being cornered by the twins and dragged to a room near the club room where there was a wide collection of clothing to choose from while (Y/n) had the benefit of taking her sweet time.

Hikaru had tossed a dress that he had presented to her on a mannequin (which proved that the garment would be extremely skimpy), as did Kaoru, but Mori and Tamaki were quick to jump in and remove her from the dresses and to a changing room. She was promptly handed a dapper suit and told to get ready.

(Y/n) had slipped the (somewhat) formal wear on, making sure that everything fell just right. It didn’t take long until she had called for someone to help her with her hair as she had little intention to wear makeup, and if she were to, it’d be very little.

A servant of the family had slipped into the room and started to brush through her hair, and decided to curl it just the slightest. It fell to frame her features perfectly, and as the servant left and she did some light makeup, a smile started to spread across her face.

For once, a formal event left her excited. Whether that was her suppression of the fear from the day before or a weird way to redirect it, she didn’t know, but she enjoyed the feeling. The fact that the thought was leaving her excited also drove her to fluff her hair a little bit before grabbing her cell phone and her bag.

As she was on her way out of her room, she stopped and looked in the mirror. With her hair done, some makeup on, and a dress that usually would skip over unless she had a good reason - she paused. She stood stock-still and looked over herself in the mirror, seemingly glancing over a girl who she didn’t recognize.

It was so different than her typical baggy t-shirt and torn jeans, so much so that she couldn’t believe that it was actually her reflection. She looked...pretty, for once, not grunge-y and dark. It brought more confidence to her as she texted Tamaki that she was on her way to the school.

She got into the limo that he had sent for her, and she was on track for the academy.

Haruhi had been getting prepped at the academy, courtesy of the host club. Kyoya and Tamaki were making sure that the decor of the ballroom was up to par, the twins were waiting beside the hairstylist and makeup artist they had hired for her, and Mori and Honey were greeting and making conversation with the females that had decided to attend the event.

Annoyance was a familiar expression on her face as she had tools prodding at it and people pulling her hair in what was supposedly called ‘styling’. She was willing to put up with it for the night, though, if it meant that (Y/n) would be able to see her.

She didn’t know how this would have hit her, but she was finished not long after a knock was heard on the door. She was already full with an odd mixture of fear and excitement, but when she saw the (h/c) female walk in, her jaw almost refused to leave the floor. If it weren’t for Hikaru, it most certainly would have stayed there.

Tamaki had rushed into the room, got a view of his little cousin all dolled up, and ran to hug her tightly. The air left her lungs for a second, but that was prevented due to Mori pulling him off her. A small ‘thanks’ was uttered before she was pushed towards Haruhi.

The image in front of her held the same power that she had to Haruhi. She, the troublemaker who refused to keep her mouth shut, was left speechless. Her hair was done in a refined manner, her face held some light touch-ups, and the suit that she donned was making her features appear more clean and sharp.

“Wow, you look...you look gorgeous, (Y/n).”

“I could say the same to you, Haruhi.”

The whole of the hosts watched on in intrigue, waiting for someone to say something more, but that was interrupted in favor of discussion. After all, each of them had to uphold a specific image for the night, and if that was a failure to up hold, well...beware the wrath of an annoyed Kyoya and an angered Tamaki.

It took around fifteen minutes to make sure everything was covered accurately and thoroughly, and the club was left to the night.

They made an announcement, presenting the festivities of the night and the reward for the best dancer. Similarly to the previous year, the winner would receive a kiss from Tamaki, and the night would go on.

Everything had begun with extravagance, catering was going on and handling the plethora of attendees with quick succession. (Y/n) had the pleasure of witnessing Haruhi go googly-eyed at the mention of fancy tuna for the umpteenth time, busting out laughing at the image of her holding a plate in one hand and a fork in the other, stuffing the food in gleefully.

In contrast to Haruhi, (Y/n)’s interest was peaked by the amount of shenanigans that she could pull overnight. The doors were open to the club, and if there were rooms left out and were lacking anyone inside them, that meant that those were primary times to pull pranks. She had already snuck out of the ballroom to a supply closet to create chaos in a staff room nearby. Haruhi had watched her run off and enact her plan, refusing to stop her in favor of watching the glowing glee that radiated from her as she did so.

Everything that had been happening was being monitored by Tamaki, and alongside Kyoya, the twins, Mori, and Honey-senpai; they were almost ready to push the big plan into action.

Operation (Ship/name) was to be put into action in T-minus ten minutes.

The night had continued to pass by happily, and around the start of the competition, Hikaru and Kaoru had dragged (Y/n) and Haruhi off (respectively) into different hallways. They had to interrupt their conversations, but everything was just starting.

While Kyoya had been initially keeping an eye of the plan, he had requested that Mori and Honey stand by the twins while the competition was being done. Tamaki was stood beside him and had provided specific action for the duo as before they took their leave. Thankfully, a majority of the attendees were caught up in the night, and failed to notice the group of hosts leaving.

As the twins had brought the respective person to an assigned room, they had made sure that the lights were kept off for a bit longer. The subjects of the plan were left to wander around the room in the dark, eventually finding themselves by bumping into the other.

When the quartet had heard the sound, they had made a quick job in turning the ceiling-rigged lights on. This left the two under an indoor view of sparkling lights that mimicked that of stars, making the two realize that something had been planned. (Y/n) had remained staring at the ceiling lights while Haruhi was left staring at the floor, only then letting the situation hit her.

The two of them had remained in their own little worlds as Mori had let the curtain blocking balcony open, leaving moonlight to creep into the impeccably decorated interior and allow it to glow under the night sky. Everything seemed too surreal to be generally close to reality, but the setting provided a sense of pride and comfort for the (h/c) female, which then led her to make a brash decision.

“Hey, uh, Haruhi?”

The said brunette lifted her head from the tiled floor to make eye contact with her, and the view that met her sight left her breathless for the hundredth time that night. The glow from the moon let her features pop, almost made her appear to be glittering, and she couldn’t form any coherent thought for a second.

Eventually, something did come to her head, but it took an extra prod from aforementioned female to do so. “Uh, yeah? What is it?”

“Well, I...”

The hidden group had stood behind in a dark corner, watching the scene before them unfold. Honey-senpai had a hand pressed against his mouth as he gripped Usa-chan tightly, Mori maintaining his stoic face despite his eyes, and the twins gracing michevious grins. Tamaki and Kyoya had left to ‘deliberate’ on the winner, but they were watching with interest from a corner opposite to that of the other four - Tamaki had his own han dclosed around his mouth so no squeals of joy could be heard in the quiet room.

“I, uh...I like...you.”

Haruhi’s eyes widened at her shy declaration. She had known the girl for a while, but she had never expected this to be how she handled something like this. Normally, she’d jump right in and shout the claim, not beat around it and stutter. This shocked her, and before she could utter a response, (Y/n) had spoken again.

“Listen, I know you may not like me, or you do - whatever. I just needed to get this off my chest, and if your answer is no, don’t be afraid to tell me.” She came off as bold, but one look in her eyes would tell even the most unaware being on planet Earth that she was truly terrified of the answer.

“(Y/n), I like you, too.”

It took everything in the viewing crowd’s power to keep themselves from shouting praises and congratulations at the two females.

(Y/n) lips twitched upwards, forming the largest smile anyone of the group had seen on her face. It didn’t match the usual mischief that it normally did, nor did it seem like she was hiding something; for once, it looked like a real smile from a place of happiness rather than benefit. “Really? Great, I just feel the need to warn you of something before you say anything else, if you even decide to do so.”

Haruhi’s interest in the statement was brought to the speaker’s attention as she continued, “I get that I have a bad rep, and that what comes out of my mouth could rival that of a sailor. And, despite that, I’d normally jump at the chance to ask you out, but...”

The crowd of hosts watched on in anticipation, both worried and hopeful that thei rnew declared OTP would hop onboard the ship and allow it to sail.

“I just want you to have a good time here, and I don’t want any of my fuck-ups to reflect on you. People here are vicious, and you’re already in the vein of students that get shit on. I should be the only one to deal with any stupid fucking repercussions from my own bullshit, and I don’t want to pull you into it. Now that I’ve told you that, you can tell me if you’d-”

The interruption was very sudden, and the way that it was done left even the hosts shocked. Haruhi had pulled (Y/n) to her and kissed her, preventing her from continuing her worried rant. A few seconds had passed before the magical moment ended.

The both of them were left breathless following the contact, and Haruhi’s next words brought joy to the (h/c)’s face. “I don’t give a damn about your reputation, all I know is that I like you and would like to date you.”

Tamaki had watched on in calm glee, the scene giving him a sense of joy that he hasn’t felt in a while. Seeing his troubled sister come out of her previous stump so strong made him so proud, and brought a new sense of pride to him along with it. She has truly shown that she has changed for the better while maintaining her typical attitude towards that world.

“Thank fuck! Okay, now that that’s done, you wanna dance with me, your newfound girlfriend?”

“But there’s no music, (Y/n),” Haruhi chuckled out. A gentle smile sat on her lips as she spoke.

“You think I give a damn? We don’t need any music to dance, y’know.”

Music had started to play from the background, cued by Tamaki pressing play on the radio remote. Speakers blasted a gentle slow song, and though the girls were now made freshly aware of the said blonde’s actions, they decided to forego any ounce of annoyance in favor of each other’s arms around the other’s waist.

The slight squeak of (Y/n)’s boots and the slight shuffle of Haruhi’s suit was comforting the to whole of the club.

Before long, the two had ended their short dance, allowing the six men that stood watching from the corners to reveal their presence. They had made it clear that they were only doing this to make sure everything went smoothly for the both of them, but before their short spiel could be completed, (Y/n) ran and jumped onto her cousin’s torso. If Tamaki’s hug left her breathless, her hug left him completely dead.

The group had left the girls together in the room while they had decided on the winner in another room, and when they were done, they had gone to gather the girls for the announcement.

Once the winner was crowned and the night had regained any sense of energy that it had lost, the new couple had made their way to the dance floor. The spectacle of two members of the club dancing together had left some of the attending students speechless, but the two remained unbothered as they had waltzed around the floor gracefully.

Some people had watched on in awe at the two, never stepping in to stop them. Some of the viewers also gushed at the image, presumably falling victim to the ship that they had shown over the span of the year to this point.

Once the end of the song was coming to the climax, (Y/n) had returned the kiss that was given to her by Haruhi earlier in the middle of the floor. The onlookers’ jaws had hit the floor as they continued to get into the action, the twins watching the scene while trying to suppress their laughter at the expressions of the people around them.

When (Y/n) pulled away from the lip-lock, she laughed at the incredulous expression that rested on Haruhi’s face before flicking her shoulder. “You little-”

“Oh, trust me, baby - I already know.”

The crowd had let the moment pass somewhat, and the night continued along well. As the night was ending, though, some people had shot dirty looks at the two. This, of course, prompted (Y/n) to flip them the bird and a formal ‘Fuck you’ as they exited the building.

“Was that really called for (Y/n)?” Haruhi asked in amusement, watching as she shrugged her shoulders.

“A girl can do what she wants to do, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

The remainder of the night was left to the club, Kyoya directing the staff to clean whatever mess there was the other five males were left to their own devices. The girls had left the commotion in favor of the starlit room, leaning against the balcony and watching the clouds in the slightly-chilly night sky move in formation.

As they had been throwing out suggestinos as to what shape they were forming as they moved, Haruhi proposed another question for the (h/c) beside her. “What about your reputation? Wouldn’t dating a scholarship student ruin that for you?”

(Y/n) paused, did a double-take to her and the ledge she was leaning on, and spoke up. “Please don’t tell me that you’re asking the same damn thing I did earlier? I already have a bad rep, and I frankly don’t care about it.”

“But, it might make it worse-”

“I don’t give a damn ‘bout my bad reputation, and I would highly appreciate it if you would refrain from claiming that you would be detrimental to it. I taint my reputation, nobody else.”

“Fine, fine....”

#ohshcxreader #ohshc x reader #ouranhighschoolhostclub #ouran high school host club #ouran high school host club x reader #ouranhighschoolhostclubxreader #haruhifujioka #haruhi fujioka #haruhixreader #haruhi x reader #haruhi fujioka x reader #haruhifujiokaxreader #haruhixfemreader #haruhi x femreader #ohshc haruhi #ohshcharuhi #ohshcharuhifujioka #ohshc haruhi fujioka

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d4rkwr1t3s · 4 years

Text

Once was mine, will be again

TW: Cheating, talk of gore/major character death (none of which into too much detail), abuse, suicide jokes, can be seen as unsympathetic Roman, one joke about balls

“Remus? Remus? Are you there?”

The phone hung limply in his grasp. His brother’s voice going through the receiver. Shock written all over his face. No. No. No. Why was this happening? His love? Roman’s? Remus threw the phone at the wall with a cry of anguish. The phone lay in pieces on the floor just as his heart felt in his chest. No not shattered. Torn. Yes torn. Torn out of his chest and torn all to shreds by his brother and his ex? lover. He pressed his palms to his eyes to stop the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing. Lava. It felt like the tears were burning through his skin. Logan was supposed to be his. The one person/thing he had taken by the “better” twin. By Mr. Perfect. By everyone’s favorite prince.

It had started when Roman called him. At first he just thought it was his dumbass brother pining over that emo again. Boy was he surprised to hear that his brother got a fiance. Which then went as follows:

“Oh? Finally got with the spider?”

“No actually-”

“Then who? Come on don’t leave out any juicy details. Spill the blood.”

“Ew no. Anyway it’s Logan-”

Which brings us back to the present. Remus’ shoulders shuddered till he heard the furious knocks on his door, “Go away!” Remus yelled at the person at the door. He didn’t want to see hi- no Roman’s starlight or Roman for that matter. The knocking persisted so he dragged himself over to the door and opened it, “what?!”

The person at the door was neither his brother nor Logan no it was Virgil himself, eyes full of heartbreak and anger, “I have a plan.”

“Less it involves me breaking my brother’s bones into tiny shards I don’t want it.”

“Maybe. Let me in.”

“Fine. I’m gonna be disappointed if ther-”

“Just shut up, let me in and let me explain.”

“Fiiiiiiiiiine,” Remus let the emo in with a huff, shutting the door behind Virgil. He turned to look at the emo to see him staring at the broken phone on the ground. Remus thought he could hear something pass Virgil’s lips but he didn’t quite catch it. He cleared his throat before speaking, “so now what’s your plan?”

“You get Logan back and get to punch Roman in the face."

“Great. Go in balls swinging?”

“No.”

“Damn.”

“Get him back first.”

“Oh? So I get to take-”

“No! Ew!”

“Hmpf. No fun.”

Virgil shook his head quickly, “gross. Anyway I heard something from Pat about their ‘relationship’-”

“Didn’t know you were the gossiping type! You should totally come to -”

“No. I don’t gossip-” Remus gave Virgil a look, “often.”

“Well spill it. I have a brother to kill.”

“No killing him. He’s an ass but I still want him.”

“Daaaaaaaamn still get on with it.”

“Pat says that Ro basically forced L to say yes. That L isn’t acting himself around Ro and continues to do odd things.”

“Liiiiike?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them in a while…”

“Well shit knocker can’t avoid me forever!”

“But he can hurt L.

“I will put him six feet under.”

“No.”

“I will.”

“Don’t.”

“No promises.”

“You get L out I deal with Ro.”

“Bu-”

“No. L needs your help right now. Get revenge later. I’ll nurse him back to health after.”

“No death?”

“No death.”

A few weeks has gone by since that conversation. Remus reluctantly planned more things with Virgil. Today was the day. Pat being their inside man and telling V everything that’s been going on between him, Lo, and Ro. Remus had figured out that Lo’s actions were SOS signals for someone to help him. They had about five months till the wedding that hopefully would be cancelled after this. Well if this works that is. They had walked up to Roman’s house only to see the car was gone. To which they had texted Pat only to get a response that Ro had taken Lo out on a vacation. If Remus still had his phone he would’ve tracked them by now but he couldn’t.

One turned to two to five rescue attempts. All turned out to be at the exact time of a vacation, date, something. Now it was the day of the wedding. For some reason they were invited after basically six months of silence. So there they were on the bride’s side. None of them were color coded or labeled but it seemed like all of Roman’s family (aside from Remus of course) were on the left while barely anyone was on the right. It was odd but nothing too odd. Well to Remus anyway. He knew why Logan’s family didn’t come and good riddance anyway. He sat there stewing in his own anger. His starlight didn’t deserve this. Roman was talking to his family but Remus wasn’t really focusing on what was said and he couldn’t when he was elbowed hard in the ribs, “ow!”

“Stop. Your anger is attracting attention and not good. Everyone’s moving over to Ro’s side.”

Remus huffed but tried to calm down as best as he could. Looking around for anything that would but it was hard to with all the dominating red in his vision or even line of sight. Very symbolic if you asked him. Shortly Roman moved to the left side of the alter standing not so still as they all waited impatiently for the “bride”. That’s when Remus noticed his dad wasn’t even beside his mom. Oh no.

The music started not that long after. Everyone stood and turned to look at the doors of the church. While it seemed sweet to everyone else Remus could tell his father’s iron grip on Logan’s arm. Not letting him run or do anything but walk forward. A threat. A promise. One he had to deal with often when he was at home. There was almost no light left in his starlight. Remus caught Logan glancing for anyone or anyway to escape. A small bit of light returning before it fell quickly and he flinched back. He couldn’t tell if that was because of his father or himself. No. Remus wasn’t angry with Logan anymore. It wasn’t his fault. The dress Logan was wearing didn’t even fit Logan’s aesthetic. Who picked it? His family was all about tradition so it wasn’t Roman. His mom? His dad? Whoever said that would pay. Logan looked absolutely miserable in it. A ballgown dress that wasn’t traditional at all. A dark blue thankfully with silver sparkles basically everywhere in some designs that weren’t Logan at all. A silver crown on his head holding the veil that didn’t cover his face at all. And knowing his family there was- not going down that train of thought yet. His anger increased tenfold. This time though Virgil didn’t reprimand him. He himself hurt by this display. Thankful that Remus didn’t catch the makeup hiding God knows what. Virgil had to cover Remus’ mouth when the priest asked for any objections. Logan had a plan. He knew it. Remus had retaliated by licking Virgil’s hand.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The priest asked Roman first.

“I do.”

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” He asked Logan. There was a beat of silence that had everyone at the edge of their seats. Then Roman mouthed something to Logan. Something that no one heard but they saw Logan grimace and flinch. Well till his resolve firmed. A fire entering his stance and eyes that no one had seen from him before.

“No,” the word rang out like a heavenly choir to Remus but what happened next was amazing. Before the uproar could start Logan basically punched Roman in the chest with the bouquet. Then he took off the crown and threw it down, breaking it before it tumbled down the stairs, “and I’m not your damsel nor your princess.”

With that he stormed away from the alter. Everyone stayed stock still in shock for a few moments. Giving Logan the time to escape. Remus wasn’t that worried about catching him. He knew all of Logan’s hiding places. But as Remus ran after Logan he tripped his brother with a laugh. While breaking his arm would be satisfying Virgil was right. Logan needed his help.

“I’ll be there soon starlight. Wait for me.”

#anxiety sanders #d4rkwr1t3s #logan sanders #logic sanders #intrulogical #prinxiety #logince #dukexiety #ts remus #remus sanders #intrusive thot #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #creativity sanders #ts logan #ts virgil

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four-rabbit · 3 years

Text

The Last Piece Left

This was supposed to be fluff the first time I had this idea. But then I decided that it could be fluffy with angst in the end. But then I got to actually write it and it became angst with even more angst in the end, so... hope you enjoy

I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: For the first time since he left the Others, Virgil reunites the courage to talk to an old friend, but neither of them seem to know how to feel about each other. Or how to not make things worse.

Characters: Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders

Warnings: swearing, mentions to death and dead bodies, angst (does that count as a warning?), fight, sex mention

Word Count: 2287

“I told them my name” Remus looked away from the canvas in front of him, just to see who he once called a friend standing in the middle of his room, with an expression as abstract as the paint Creativity was trying to finish. So many feelings in such a small space it became impossible to understand.

“Ok? Good for you, I don’t give a fuck” replied, focusing his gazes on anything except Virgil’s eyes, doing his best to keep his emotions simple. We hate each other. He abandoned us. That should be enough. Virgil stayed in silence for what seemed like a lifetime. “What do you want, emo?”

“Thomas painted his hair” he started.

“Yeah, I noticed. Purple doesn’t really go well with green. Unless we’re talking about a wound. Or a dead body. Nevermind, purple and green are awesome together”

“Yeah, I really liked the hair, actually. I was thinking… I mean, you and Deceit have green and yellow. The core sides also have colors. I’m kinda tired of the black”

“Are you? I think it matches you, boring, quickly establishes that you’re the villain, having been washed in at least some months”

“I just want you to teach me how to sew,” Virgil replied, already starting to lose his temper. Calm down, he said to himself,he may be hard to deal with, but you are here to help, not make things worse.

“Roman knows how to sew, probably way better than me. Do you think I should add like, blood red or more like a wine red?” He pointed to the canvas, answering his own question before Virgil could do so “Yeah, blood red of course, the classic”

“I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, I don’t think Princey’s style really matches mine” Remus wishes he was as honest to himself as he was with other people. He knew deep down it would hurt more to do that. He knew that getting a bite of what used to be their friendship would just make him more hungry for something that didn’t even exist anymore. He knew it would probably hurt both of them even more. But someone wanted his help for the first time in… well. Virgil wanted his help.

“Ok, get out of my room” said, finally turning to Anxiety, who tried to pretend those words didn’t send a wave of disappointment though his body.

“Of course... This was a mistake” mumbled, starting to sink out.

“No dude! Fuck, I mean, like, intrusive thoughts and anxiety is never a good mix, let’s go to your room or a neutral room” quickly explained.

“Oh” Virgil came back, seeming surprised “I can take your room just fine, dude, I’m used to it”

“It got way worse since the last time you were here, trust me, Gerard Gay” Virgil looked around. The view did look messier, if it was possible. The floor felt like skin, but with something off. He could hear whispers in the back of his consciousness, to which he could never identify a source. The smell was less like trash can and more like a trash can on fire where a corpse had been discarded some days ago. But he could take all that. He could take hours in that room, the same way Remus could take hours in his room.

“I don’t see how”

“As much as I would love to see Thomas hyperventilating because his anxiety can’t stop thinking about how people are going to invade his house and slowely murder him if he doesn’t check all the locks at least five times, I’m pretty sure you don’t want that headache. And it will be a hell of a headache as soon as the room reaches your mind”

“Fine, My room, then?”

“Yeah, I’m in need of some new spiderwebs anyway”

Virgil’s room didn’t change much since The Duke was there for the last time, except for some new Disney posters, probably from Roman and a drawing on the desk right beside anxiety’s bed. It was terribly colorful and childish, with all the three core sides and Virgil. Patton, then. Of course it was Patton. Anxiety immediately took the gift out of Creativity’s sight.

“I’m not gonna eat it or anything, y’know?”

“It’s personal”

“Of fucking course it is” He could see how Patton seemed better compared to Janus. But they didn’t need a stupid - and shitty, let’s be honest - card to prove how much they cared for, everything was just so fucking stupid and boring with the core sides, why would Virgil fucking chose to be with them?! What was wrong with him?! What did Remus do wrong?! “It’s really shitty, but I guess daddy has always been bad at everything he did”

“Could you keep it down? For at least thirty fucking minutes?” Virgil snapped, clenching his fists and looking at Remus with pure danger in his eyes.

“Do you have a… “He looked around, wishing he could just stop fucking talking for at least one damn second “A sketch. For how you want your hoodie to be?

“I do, actually” Virgil kept his eyes away from his old friend, the tension in the room so heavy it could be cut, grabbing one of the drawings on the same table Patton’s gift was and giving it to the duke. It was… a concept. Remus conjured a pen, turning the paper and using it’s other side to make a more clear image, giving it back to anxiety.

“How about this?” Virgil tried not to smile, but his eyes betrayed him by shining. It was perfect.

"It 's cool”

“Great” he then started to reunite all the materials. One of Virgil’s older hoodies, purple fabric, white and black threads and…

“Why a spinning wheel?”

"It 's cooler” replied, shrugging.

“If I touch the needle will I also sleep for one hundred years?”

“Who knows? Now sit your ass down, emo, this will take time”

“Ok, what do I do first?” said, sitting on his bed and waiting for instruction. Remus flinched until the realization struck him.

“Wait, you actually want me to teach you? Buddy, I’m the worst teacher ever and you know that” And also I’m a selfish motherfucker who knows very well that if you never learn it every time you need to fix it you will have to ask for my help.

“It can’t be that hard”

“If you actually want to do something decent, it will take at least some days. Do you want The Duke in your room for days? I wouldn’t mind it, we could even have some fun” He smiled maliciously. He was right. Virgil wouldn’t want any of the core sides to know he still talked to Remus. Especially not Roman.

“Fine. How long will it take for you to do it?”

“One hour” He could do it in a couple seconds, actually, but sshhh.

“Ok” Virgil looked down, seeming almost… embarrassed. Creativity grabbed all the materials, conjured a bench, sat down and started to work. He tried to stay in silence, but it was almost painful to do so

“How are the core sides doing? Anything interesting, if that’s possible?”

“Are you trying to do small talk?” Virgil almost smiled. The only one of the Others good with that was Deceit and they all knew that.

“I’m trying to keep it down like you said to protect your now light side ears or whatever” Virgil chucked, rolling his eyes.

“What was that painting about?”

“Oh… I was trying to do an abstract representation of the emotions decay and rottenness bring”

“Sounds like you. How was it going?”

“Like shit. Not literally, even though that’s a good idea, did you know that when we die our whole body, like, relax, including our stomach muscles and all? And yeah, we shit ourselves, so go to the bathroom before you die, I guess” Virgil flinched with that unwanted information.

“I feel like you told me that before”

“I probably did, it’s pretty basic. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, I haven’t being able to paint anything good”

“I thought it was pretty nice” For Remus’ standards.

“Sure you did. But really, how are those dorks? Did someone already explained to Daddy what sex it or nobody had the courage yet?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“Of course!”

“Nobody did, obviously, but I’m considering, I like Patton, but if he refers to adulthood as adultery one more time I’ll lose it” Remus snorted.

“He does what?”

“Long story, dude”

“Holy fuck” He laughed “He’s definitely doing that on purpose”

“What would he win by doing that?” A couple of answers came to Remus’ mind but he was sure VIrgil would hate all of them. Still, he had to choose one, that how things work “Maybe he likes fucking with you guys”

“Not everybody finds it funny to manipulate the people around them like Deceit” Oh, here we go again.

“Patton and Janus are not that different”

“Name one thing they have in common” fortunately for Remus, the first answer that came to his mind was not that bad.

“Well, if you’re right, they both don’t know where babies come from” Virgil seemed divided between keeping arguing and smiling. He went with the second option. You can do it, Virge. You can not screw everything.

“I guess so. But Patton is definitely better with hugs”

“Which one of the light sides would you fuck if you had to chose?”

“Where did that come from?!” Remus shrugged.

“Just curious”.

“I won’t fucking answer that!” exclaimed, his face starting to get red.

“For me it would be Logan. Or maybe you. Do you count as a Light side already?” Anyway, Logan must be amazing. It’s almost like fucking a teacher and I always wanted to know how it feels like” Virgil was about to order him to shut up, but he knew Remus enough to know it would only make things worse, so he went with a more effective technique.

“How is Deceit doing?” Remus raised his eyebrows, the question surprising enough to stop his line of thought.

“Fine? Why do you care?”

“I mean… are you guys good?”

“As always”

“Haven’t he been… hurting you or anything like that?”

“Janus never hurted me, dude, what the fuck?”

“Except that he did. Except that he does it everyday. You just don’t want to admit it” Remus looked into his eyes, frowning.

“Emo, what is this all about?”

“What do you mean?” Based on how he focused his gaze on the floor, Remus raised his eyebrows even more.

“This is not just about the fucking hoodie, is it?” Virgil stayed in a seeming never ending silence.

“They accepted me, Remus.You guys said it was impossible for the core sides to accept us, but here I am. They could accept you too” Oh, so that’s what this is about. Remus went to one of his rare silences, which were always scarier than his loudest noises.

“We already talked about this, emo”

“But that was before! When we thought they all hated us! But they don’t! Logan is welcoming and Roman is trying and Patton… Patton is willing to receive us with his arms open”

“No, he’s fucking not. Patton hates me so fucking much I’m pretty sure he would get rid of me the second he had the fucking chance and would still convince himself it was the right thing to do” He got up without realizing, putting all his efforts into not crying like a pathetic child.

“I think you’re mistaken him for Deceit” Virgil also got on his feet.

“Janus, his name is fucking Janus, why can’t you just call him for his fucking name?! He yelled.

“He’s a liar, Remus! He doesn’t care about you or any of us! He just wants to… Follow his plans or whatever”

“Oh, do you think Patton cares about you?!”

“Actually yes, I know he fucking does”

“Well, yeah, maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, but if I get there? Not only will he get scared and kick me out, he will also be angry at you for bringing the freak here into his perfect little world of sunshine and rainbows, so thank you so much, but Janus at least was there for me when I needed it, unlike those dicks or you!” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I should have known this was a mistake” Virgil said, letting his shoulders drop with the height of defeat.

“Yeah it was. Here is your fucking hoodie” He finished it with a snap of his fingers at threw it at Virgil, sinking out right after. “Have fun with your new friends, Virgil”

Slowly, anxiety grabbed his new costume. It was amazing, Comfortable, spooky, creative. And it was so… detailed and clearly done carefully, It was… He started crying.Ugly crying, with the tears scratching his throat to came with violent sobs, their warm burning as they fell down his face, wetting his own clothes and the new one in his hands, the pain in his chest seeming like a monster was tearing apart his whole soul, trying to destroy his heart, it hurted more than anything that he ever felt.

He knew, deep down, it was impossible to have a real famILY like that. But he also knew he was a hypocrite and it was easier to pretend things were simpler. It was easier to pretend he didn’t need Remus. Or Janus, by that extent. It was easier to pretend they weren’t family. But not easy enough for him to not hold on to all there was left from what they once called a friendship.

He held the hoodie tighter.

#sanders sides #fanfic #tw sex mention #tw death mention #cw swearing #angst #intruxiety #rabbit writes

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