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#trying to get me to sign up for shit and buy better plans
buglaur · 5 months
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for a girl whose never built anything from scratch before i'd call this a triumph
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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months
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Tumblr WILL NOT let me post the fic and this ask at the same time and I've tried legit five times. So THANK YOU anon for the request and I'm sorry for the weirdness in uploading. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this!
My Ghost.
Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader
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Summery: You don't know what happened that night. Things were fine, life was good, then your partner is on the news for all sorts of shit you never would've thought him capable of the day prior. He was dead, he was evil, and you were trying to move on. But what's the proper etiquette when the dead show up on your door unannounced?
Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/comfort, fake death, mentions of drinking, drug use/dealing, grieving, arguing, cursing, flashbacks, brief suggestive scenes, suicidal thoughts.
Other Works in This Series: 'Repentance' (Prequel to 'My Ghost') • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')
Notes: The way I've been trying to upload this for two hours. Oh my fucking God. Anyways, everyone say thank you to anon for getting me to write something that doesn't make God cry.
-¤°》◇《°¤-
I'm not hard to please, but I'm not desperate despite what the rumors may say.
People enjoy gossip. People who don't know fuck all about you. And my standards are fine. Were fine. And I don't mean standards such as 'buys me flowers everyday' or 'doesn't deal coke.' I mean standards such as 'is a decent fucking person.'
"That's what I thought you were up until all of this fucking... disappearing for months!" I scream, anger fueling me. I don't let the other emotions win out, don't let them have a say. Because if I do, I'll be too conflicted and overwhelmed and then I'm gonna cry, and that's not fair.
People had warned me he was trouble. Terms such as 'wannabe cowboy,' 'rebel without a cause' were tossed around in warning. But to me, he was just Billy.
Then he was dead.
Now, he was here. He showed up at my door nine months after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon.
Then he was on the news. And a gas station blew up. Gangs, stolen vehicles. He was probably dead. Things would be easier if he was dead.
Fine. Maybe I initially ignored warning signs. Maybe I was distracted by his handsome side profile, too busy admiring his nose to notice the occasions it was dusted with the trace of a fine powder. Maybe his hands were too beautiful for me to realize they were slipping money to men in dark jackets when we went out to the rougher parts of town. But he was mine and I was his, and overall he was a good person.
He was alive. He was alive and I was mad because if he was dead then at least it would be valid that for nine months I have had to deal with the accusatory stares of our neighbors assuming I knew, the pity from my loved ones, and the betrayel that kept me awake at night. It would mean he hadn't left me to deal with his repercussions, that maybe there was a valid excuse. An undiagnosed brain tumor that finally gave way to insanity, a gun to his head. Something that was not the worst case scenario of just... being an awful person. I could let his things rest around the house undisturbed, hiding from the world and waiting to find the courage to join him one day and living in denial in the meantime. What the fuck was all of this?
"I couldn't tell you," he keeps saying. "It was better if you knew nothing until I was sure I could come get you."
"Why didn't you just take me with you from the start?" I ask. I've been pacing the floor for the past twenty minutes ever since he showed up. It was better than throwing every breakable object in the cheap, worn down shack of a house at him, which was my second instinct. My first was to pull him into my arms, draw the curtains shut and hide him away so that he'll never leave again. Like an idiot.
He laughs bitterly. "You would not be asking that if you knew what the fuck I went through," he says. His words sound like they should be angry, but there's this lightness to them like he can't let himself think too much about it. It just makes me angrier.
"Don't fucking laugh!" I snap. "Do you think any of this is funny?"
"I think you're funny when you're mad," he deflects, smiling. "You got this whole routine. Pacing, nose twitching. I like the Shirley Temple stomps, like you're a kid."
I groan loudly, the noise almost sounding like a low scream in my throat.
"You owed money to fucking- who?" I yell.
"The details don't matter-"
"When I have been grieving your death for nine months, they fucking matter!" I snap. His brows furrow, his hands mid air as if to say 'the fuck did I do?'
"You know me, okay? I don't get caught," he says as though it were obvious.
"I know fucking nothing!" I practically scream.
When we met he was just a guy at a bar, handsome, wearing that same ridiculous jacket that I couldn't help but stroke the white fluff on, tequila running through my veins.
"Can I help you?" He asked, smirking.
"Just wanted to see what it felt like," I said.
"Wanna feel something else?" He asked, his chin resting on his head.
"Oh, fucking gross. Fuck o-"
"I was talking about this," he said, whipping out his keys to show off an odd, weirdly shaped keychain with short, stiff fuzz. "Don't call me a pervert just cause you're one."
He was smiling. It was an easy smile. Careless, happy with life. I loved that smile. It meant things were always alright as long as he was smiling.
He was smiling on the photo they used for the manhunt.
We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.
"They're a keepsake," he'd insist. "A living memory." He wore them everyday.
He's wearing sneakers, today.
At the end of the night, I stumbled out of the bar with a note in my coat pocket. It took two weeks for me to wear that coat again, and when I found the slip I'd almost thrown it away, assuming it was something dumb. But when I saw the worst handwriting in the world displaying a number belonging to someone named 'Keychain Guy,' I almost couldn't wait to call.
"Bullshit," Billy snaps. "You know me better than anyone."
"Don't say that," I say, putting a hand out protectively to keep him away. "That's exactly why everyone thinks I was just fine with that whole- fucked up thing!"
A gas station burned. A stolen vehicle. People were dead. People were dead.
Billy was presumed dead.
There was no funeral. He had no family, and none of mine wanted to put money into something that would be protested by the whole town anyways. No body to bury, nothing to do but gather up his things and smoke what remained in his stash until people came to nurse me back to life. By that point there wasn't even relief in drugs. The taste simply reminded me of better times cooking in the kitchen as we blew the smoke into each others faces, or worse. Better. Whatever.
I never questioned when Billy went out of town. I knew his work had details I didn't want nor need to know. Money was tight. But Billy always came home with little things whenever he went on unexpected trips. Knick knacks, snacks, some item I'd seen at the store and picked up to make a comment about. Had he been particularly forthcoming about his dealing when we started dating? No. He said he worked for a local small business, which technically isn't untrue. But about six months in, he was the one who approached me and sat me down at the small, rickty round table to tell me the truth. And that's what mattered to me. The economy is shit and it's not like it was meth, so who am I to judge?
About a year into it, I was begging for him to do something else.
"I don't like you disappearing," I told him. "I'm scared one day you're gonna piss someone off and that'll be the end. Then what am I gonna do?"
"Then you're gonna make sure they don't fuck up my face during the embalming process for the funeral," Billy said around his hand rolled cigarette. I whip the small dish towel at him, making him laugh and protect his small ashtray that I made him for Christmas the year prior. It was shitty, uneven, and I'm 99% sure a fire hazard. But he wouldn't use any other ones unless I was the one who bought them for him, and even then he favored this one. 'When this place goes up in flames,' I thought, 'I'll regret that gift.'
I'd kept it by the kitchen window every day since he'd died. "Died." It was his spot.
He moves to sit there now, looking in his pockets for the small box of prerolled cigarettes.
"People know you weren't involved," he says dismissively.
"Your friends know. What about the old ladies at church? The checkout clerks at the store? How about the fucking mailman?" I shout, convinced I'm still talking to the dead. "You think they know the ins and outs of the local psychos support group?" I ask, gesturing and stepping closer.
I was the local outcast now. Not to be trusted, not worth kindness. Shame was my title, and when Billy appeared on my doorstep at an hour where only I was awake I was sure I'd caught the same awful disease that must have been what sent him spiraling that winter day. It wasn't until he pushed the door open fully, taking me into his arms and pressing a warm kiss to my lips that I knew he was real. It was a feeling I was in the early stages of forgetting, blurry and cold. But here he was, the stubble on his chin a bit longer and his ears missing the small hoops that had glittered in the sunlight when he walked out the door.
Then I'd pushed him away. And the fight began.
"I'm not a fucking psycho," he argues. His hands pat around his outfit, searching. "You got a lighter?"
"Fuck off." I kept his favorite in my left pocket. I had to be careful what things of his I wore or kept on my person. People close to me knew I would have never condoned his actions, but even they had glared at me in the early wake of Billy's death when I dared to wear one of his shirts out of the house, or more commonly one of his thick leather jackets. But a lighter can be hidden, and unless you had borrowed it you wouldn't know it had specifically been his. So I kept it with me all the time, just feeling it next to my skin with the only barrier being the fabric of my pocket. Without a thought, I cover the small item as though he can see right through me. Picking up on the hint, he's rises from the table and begins walking over to me.
"Don't be a dick, just let me borrow it," he says, holding out his hand.
"Fuck off," I snap.
"You've said that. I just need it for two seconds," he says as his hands begin to gently grab at me, one on my shoulder and the other dipping into my pocket.
"Get the fuck off of me!" I yell, slapping at him.
"Just let me have-"
He cuts himself off as he pulls out the lighter from my pocket, his thumb grazing over the printed picture. The Statue of David. He'd bought because it made us laugh. One side was the regular statue, the other a close up of its small genitals with cursive writing underneath spelling the art piece's name.
"Oh," Billy says quietly.
We stand for a moment, silent. He doesn't seem sure what to do. My lungs burn with unheaved sobs. I fucking hate this.
"You were gonna come back," I finally say quietly. I hate how my voice sounds when I'm upset. I hate that I'm wearing his dogtag, an item he'd bought at a World War II museum in middle school that he gave me for our first Christmas because we were both too broke to actually buy each other anything, hence the poorly made ashtray. I hate that when I sleep at night it's in his clothes that I rarely wash because the idea of losing his smell makes me want to scream. I hate that his scent is different from the bottle of cologne he kept next to my makeup, one time spilling all over the entire bathroom counter because we'd gotten too wrapped up in each other, dragging our nails down each others backs and watching ourselves in the mirror until one wrong move of my hand revealed he'd been a bit too careless about screwing the lid back on earlier in the day. I'd always warned him about that.
I'd been in the bathroom putting on my permanently scented blush when I got the text.
"I was going to," he said softly. "Then I couldn't."
"So what?" I say, not daring to turn and face him, choosing instead to stare at where the cheap, old wood paneling of the wall meets the shaggy, stained carpet that you have to wear shoes on due to the staples that have begun sticking out of it. "You just propose to someone and then pretend to die?"
Valentines Day was an awfully cheesy day to do it. So it's a good thing it was a technicality.
The day had been lovely. Billy had saved up a little to take me to a local hibachi place, telling me to wear my best outfit and jewelry. It was slightly overkill, but it's the small things in life, isn't it?
We'd come home with a bottle of wine, a low budget movie to ignore and hands searching desperately for each other.
"I love you," he'd said between pants. "You're mine."
"Buy a ring," I'd dared. Our minds were buzzed, the bottle half empty and our clothes thrown away without care. Took me weeks to find his both of his socks.
I hadn't meant for him to take it seriously. But I guess he decided it was time.
Two days later I thought it was odd when he walked into the house with my favorite lunch. It wasn't expensive really, we just usually got it for special occasions or days that had been mentally harder for me. And things were normal that day. I was getting ready for my shift, running around like I always do trying to make sure I've got everything.
"Your coffee's in the cup, will you just sit down?" He laughed, watching me. I quickly collected the take out box, sipping my coffee and wincing over its temperature.
"Fuck, that burns," I cursed. He wrapped his arms around me, trying to get me to sit at the table. "Baby, I can't," I protested softly, but I was laughing. He was peppering me in kisses, giving me those big puppy dog eyes everyone knew were my weakness. He wanted for nothing so long as he looked at me just like that.
"Just this once," he asked, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I couldn't help the blush and giggle that rose from me, but I also couldn't be late.
"I'll make up for it," I promised, slipping away and running into the bedroom to get my shoes. When I ran back in, pulling them on and coming to kiss him goodbye, I nearly fell over when I saw him on one knee, smiling and looking at me like 'I told you so.'
I don't like how itchy the ring feels on my middle finger as I twirl it in thought.
"You don't know what happened," he pleaded, his hands still on me. "If you would just listen to me-"
"The news gave a pretty good description, William. I don't think there's missing pieces in my head, unlike you," I say coldly, detaching from myself so to not have to deal with my emotions. This makes him stiffen, pulling away and resuming his place at the kitchen table, lighting his cigarette and placing the ashtray in front of him like nothing has changed when everything has.
It feels like I'm out of time. Like I've been shoved into a picture of what my life looked like before. Except the house was never this clean, clothes always scattered about. Not just in a fit of passion, we just had bad habits when it came to picking up. Billy would always say the chairs are more decorations then they are seats, anyways. "Why would you use those when you have such a nice seat here?" He'd ask, wiggling his hips and placing his hands behind his head, making me laugh.
Billy never looked so well put together in the house, usually in a wife beater and his hair framing his face. He'd always joked he looked like a dirty hippie around me, and I'd always show him how much I liked that. Not that he looked fantastic now. When we went out he was known for putting in effort. He always had more hair products than me, which I found funny. Though he refused makeup. Once I'd managed to talk him into eyeliner. 'Guyliner' I'd teased. He liked it, but said it should stay between us with a wink before asking where to get dinner. Now he sits before me in clothes obviously stolen to help him look unremarkable, his hair shaggy and uncut, so different from the man I loved.
"Who are you?" I asked him. That man didn't shrink away from accountability.
He sighed, smoke swirling around him as he wipes his face with his hand.
"I don't know. Can't tell if I'm better or worse, to be honest," he admits softly. His eyes look haunted, heavy bags underneath. It's the way his shoulders sag as though his will to go on is slowly draining from him in this very moment that makes me want to break now. Like whatever reason he had for still going was fruitless.
I didn't like the way we mirrored each other like this.
I slowly scuff my feet towards him, tapping my fingers against the back of the wooden chair before pulling it out to sit across from him. It's a start.
"So if you tell me," I say slowly. "Am I going to wish you were dead?"
He doesn't look at me. "I don't know."
Great.
The night is long. Morning comes without an invitation, the blue sky beginning to glow through the shitty blinders I always told Billy we should replace one day. I understand less than when we started, we've both cried more than once, and between our fingers is cigarette stubs and the feeling of each others skin, hands laced together as though another click of an old remote to an outdated TV with batteries you had to rub against your shirt to make work would reveal the smouldering remains of a gas station, displaying the estimated body count and deeming one of us as a devil of the worst kind, ripping us apart.
"Jesus," I say when it's over.
"Yeah," he says. "So, needless to say, my anxiety is shit now."
It isn't funny. It's a tragic statement. But when we both glance into the others eyes, it's his small little smirk that makes me laugh like I haven't since my mother sent me the local news report with his picture covering the front page. The same one that shows everything is still okay.
"I'm sorry," I say. Then the laughing turns into sobbing, and then I can't breathe. And I really am sorry.
I'm sorry I couldn't help him. I'm sorry he went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money he shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. I'm sorry he couldn't come back for me. And I'm sorry for hating him when he showed up unannounced at my door.
"Hey," he says gently, standing and crossing to me, removing his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders to comfort me. It's unfamiliar, evidence of a life he wouldn't have led if he had just stayed by me and it upsets me, but his lips against my wet cheeks ground me, familiar and soothing me, coaxing me into wrapping my arms around him, clawing my trembling fingers through his hair. Still soft. Still combed.
"You can't stay here," I choke out.
"I know," he says quietly. There's nothing for a long time, our bodies shaking as we cling to each other. In our arms are the unspoken months of grief. Of his longing for our home, of my insanity. Death looms over the furniture, light hidden away lest it take away my sacred treasures I'd used to keep his spirit close to me.
"I can't lose you again," I say.
"I know," he says, smelling my hair and placing a soft kiss on top of my head. "But I can't promise stability if you follow me."
My brows furrow, my mind racing in confusion, my hopes rising. Follow?
"I know a guy," he says quickly, his arms tighter as if scared I'll turn away. "Says he can get me a new identity and a one way ticket to somewhere. I don't know where yet, but it's worth a try."
My fingers trace his back, swirling invisible patterns over his shirt. He'd always liked that after a rough day. I can feel the tension begin to slowly fall away from him at the contact, his breathing growing deeper and more steady. "And you want me to come?"
"Need," he corrects. "I don't regret leaving you, but I can't stay away. Even if it's more kind to let you mourn and find a better life."
A new life. A new identity. New name, new everything.
Maybe I am insane. Maybe this exactly the kind of mental break Billy had that day. Maybe I was doomed to follow his spirit no matter what. Maybe this is a second chance. Maybe God had granted me a mercy I'll never be able to repay, no matter how many night I spend in worship at a church or between this man's legs. Maybe I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder, paranoid and eventually turning cruel to strangers so to keep this one person everyone told me to let go of from the very beginning.
But the same Billy.
"Can he do a marriage license?" I ask after a long silence. I can hear him laugh, pulling away to look at me.
"That eager?" He asks softly, his eyes gentle, thumb stroking my cheek. I lean into his touch, softly placing a kiss on his palm.
▪︎》◇《▪︎
"Well," I say, "I already have the ring."
Masterlist
As cute as this was, please have better standards than the Reader I wrote in this fic. No man is worth that. I am DEADASS. Anyways, love y'all <3
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makeste · 5 months
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BnHA Chapter 409: Bro I’m Straight Up Having a Good Time
Previously on BnHA: AFO murdered his brother like the mischievous knave he is. Bruce was all, “hey Kudou don’t look now but I think Yoichi might have given you his secret quirk that we didn’t know he had.” Kudou was all, “damn that’s wild, it almost feels like this is a pivotal moment that will change all our destinies forever, you’d think Horikoshi would have spent just a little more time elaborating on this but I GUESS NOT.” Back in the present day, AFO was all, “I’m just going to use all my quirks at once because fuck this kid,” and Katsuki was all, “lol oh shit.”
Today on BnHA: Kacchan is all, “okay, I know I should be hopelessly outclassed, but hear me out: what if I just win anyway. What if I just go ahead and blow his shit up, because this is the final battle, and this is what all of my character development has been building up to since day one. What if I just beat him, because I’m the guy who wins. Simple as that. What if I just kick his ass with my one quirk, and prove all the haters wrong.” Horikoshi is all, “okay, sure.” AFO is all, “wait, wha -- ”
oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my g
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huh. well I wasn’t expecting to start tearing up less than two panels into this chapter but HERE WE ARE
I love that he’s screaming and crying with his balled up little fist right from the get go lol. he was born a pissed off baby
he’s so squishy
and so tiny!!!!?!?! !?!??!?!
and he was RAISED WITH LOVE. fucking thank you, lol. gonna print that out and frame it on my wall. turn it into a flashing neon sign to give me comfort any time I stumble across stray Mitsuki discourse lol
anyway. oh my goodness. if this is a sign of things to come, there’s a very strong possibility this chapter may destroy me. how exciting!!
yep. yep yep yep. this is for sure going to be the chapter that finally does me in. it’s been a great ride folks
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you better not be thinking any thoughts about dying, young man. this had better be meant in the sense of “because I’ll be by your side supporting you instead”, as opposed to “because I will be a little pile of dust in about three seconds’ time oh shit”
(ETA: after finishing the rest of the chapter, I’m pretty sure it’s the former! the first flashback is a reference to his chapter 120 speech -- “even higher than you, Chosen One.” the second is a throwback to chapter 247, when he told Endeavor he only had his one quirk, but it was strong enough to do anything he wanted to do. and the third flashback is one he also had at Jakku when he sacrificed himself to push Izuku out of the way.
so to me, this reads like (1) a reminder of his determination to surpass Izuku and become the strongest hero; (2) foreshadowing for him defeating AFO with Explosion, the Little Quirk That Could; and (3) a reminder of his “origin.” that last one being important because nowadays it’s just as strong of a motivator as his original goal. back at the beginning of the series, all he cared about was being the strongest. now, though, he’s not just fighting for himself; he’s also fighting to atone, and he’s learned to put himself aside if necessary.
as for the dialogue, this reads like a continuation of his mental conversation with Izuku that he began in chapter 362 (“gotta win... right, Izuku?” “so, Izuku... can I still catch up to you?”), and then continued in chapter 406 (“for some reason, I feel like I could overtake you now”). so in that context, “I’ll no longer get in your way” basically means that he’s done chasing Izuku, and that he’s caught up now and can hold his own. his determination to get stronger hasn’t wavered. his confidence in his own quirk and his own skills hasn’t wavered. and his resolve to atone for everything he did to Izuku is as strong as ever. put those all together, and we have the recipe for quite a spectacular redemption fight. his follow-up to chapter 362.
because earlier when he fought Tomura/AFO, he was basically just trying to buy time. no one ever planned or expected him to have to face the Big Bad one-on-one; that was supposed to be Izuku’s job. he was only meant to be there as support. and in the end he wasn’t strong enough, and he nearly died. and rather than being able to support Izuku, he ended up being used against him.
but this time is different. he’s no longer the decoy, the distraction. he’s no longer the pebble. he won’t get in Izuku’s way, because this time he’s going to be strong enough to win the fight. he’s going to hold his own, and get the job done.
so yeah. “I won’t get in your way” = “you can depend on me”, basically. because he’s become that guy at last. the guy who shows up in the clutch and wins the day. the hero he always wanted to be. good stuff.)
OH MY GOD
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once again, just really solid hero advice from All Might here. there’s a reason he’s the GOAT
lol but in all seriousness it does tug at my heart to see him shouting so desperately at this kid. especially knowing that he’s presumably feeling the same pride and awe that I am, but with a lot more heart-stopping terror mixed in because unlike me, All Might doesn’t know that Kacchan is actually going to live forever. he narrated chapter 285, All Might, have a little faith
AFO is the extra-est mfer to ever live. but also it really tickles me to think that Kacchan pissed him off THIS much. it’s kind of an honor in a way
of course his plan is to simply just blow AFO up. of fucking COURSE it is. maybe there will be brain cells later on in this chapter, but for now who even needs them lol
OH MY GOD?!?
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DID THIS MOTHERFUCKER JUST BLOW THE FUCK UP FROM THE INSIDE?? am I seeing this right?? DID KACCHAN JUST SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST ALL FOR ONE WITH HIS MIND
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
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(ETA: shoutout to AFO for being so analytical when I personally would have just been screaming, “OH MY GOD MY FUCKING EYEBALLS AHHHHHHHHHH.”)
THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING THOUGH!! HIS POWER WASN’T DONE AWAKENING YET, APPARENTLY??
oh no wait it’s even better. this isn’t Awakening at all, this is just Katsuki playing 5D chess
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so he actually did have brain cells the whole time then! Katsuki I sincerely apologize. you somehow had the presence of mind to make a goddamn minefield even in the midst of all of this hullaballoo
AND HE’S HUMBLE TOO LMAO
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it’s true!! I’m people!! please ignore the multitude of times I’ve previously called him a dumbass, including earlier in this very chapter lol
hahahahaha yesssssssss
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this chapter is incredibly validating for a number of reasons. I’m going to attempt to remain calm about it. but I’m enjoying this a lot ngl
oh AFO
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:D :D :D
(ETA: you know what, I actually do have more to say about this. because I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve debated with people about this very thing, lol. for a while there post-Jakku it was just constant pessimism about Kacchan’s future in the manga. all this stuff about how Katsuki doesn’t have a main villain. Katsuki isn’t important enough. Katsuki is being phased out. Katsuki isn’t strong enough. Katsuki’s done developing. Katsuki’s just a joke character now. Katsuki’s just the damsel in distress. Katsuki’s always going to be second fiddle to Izuku. etc. etc. etc.
and then this chapter -- this whole entire fight, really -- comes along, and it’s just nonstop rebuttals, lol. and it’s not just that he’s proving all the negativity wrong. it’s that he doesn’t even care about any of that. AFO is out here trying to goad him with that same “YOU’RE JUST A SIDE CHARACTER” bait, and in response Katsuki just hits him with a Howitzer and tells him to shut the fuck up. AFO thinks he can get to him by being petty, because AFO still sees him as the bratty kid from the Sports Festival. but the present day Katsuki has long since moved past all of that, and no longer gives a fuck whether or not he shares the spotlight. unlike AFO, who never lost his childish egotism, Katsuki has learned to see outside himself, and the resulting growth has made him a bigger badass than AFO could ever hope to be.)
(۶•̀ᴗ•́)۶
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ouch
HAHAHAHAHA
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bro I’m straight up having a good time. this recap is gonna suck this week because there’s absolutely no commentary I can think of to add other than “I’M REALLY ENJOYING THIS, THIS IS GREAT”
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I want to take this entire chapter and get it tattooed on my face
sorry AFO. this must really suck for you
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lmao. is that all Kacchan. tell him how you really feel
OH MY GOD NO WAY LOL
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so, fun fact, I literally just read chapter 385 last night lmao. most fortunate timing I’ve ever had, holy shit
okay so lemme just add some more thoughts on this one really quick
Hawks deserves all the nice things in the world and I’m so sad I can’t give them to him, but at least he gets this. sweet sassy revenge
I am once again calling everyone’s attention to the fact that AFO continues to be his own undoing. congrats on screwing yourself over bucko
Kacchan’s sleeve ripping up Deku-style is once again making my Plus OFA Theory senses all tingly. it probably is just a coincidence and has nothing to do with OFA, but I can’t unassociate it now, so I’m just gonna sit here and read as much into it as possible
if I had a nickel for every time AFO’s eyes blew up in this chapter, I would have two nickels, and that is way too many fucking nickels jesus christ
ever since he came back from the dead, Kacchan’s been doing this thing where he is just really pretty at all times, even when he is being a gremlin. and honestly it’s taken some getting used to, although I’m not complaining
but like in this panel especially, it just really stands out to me how even his “GRYAHHH I’M GONNA KILL YA!!!” face somehow has this really cool, intense, piercing glare now and he no longer looks like a baby troll when he does this kind of thing lol
OH FUCK YEAH
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୧༼✿ ͡◕ д ◕͡ ༽୨
“THERE’S NO WAY I COULD’VE WON THIS ALONE.” OMG. THAT KACCHAN CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT JUST HITS DIFFERENT EVERY DAMN TIME, I SWEAR
he and Hawks basically pulled a “you hold him and I’ll punch” lol. thanks for the assist Hawks
Mitsuki and Masaru being all, “my little baby boy!!” and “HOLY SHIT”, respectively, sent me all the way to the moon lmao
HELLO THERE YOICHI? fancy running into you here. just chilling out over in this montage of people close to Bakugou who are watching him kick ass. did you take a wrong turn, mayhap. you’re not inside of AFO, we know that much. and Deku, much as I’m sure he’d love to have a front row seat to all this, seems to have his hands full dealing with Tomura right now, sadly
so all of that does seem to raise an interesting question, no? where did you come from just now, and why? and when Kacchan says he’s not alone, is there perhaps more truth to that statement than even he knows? or am I once again just reading way too much into this lmao
anyway so yeah! that sure was fun. and with the end of the year approaching and back-to-back two-week chapter breaks coming up, I have a chance to do the funniest thing of all time, and still not manage to catch up, lol. nah but I’m gonna try my best though. pretty sure I should be able to manage
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lowkeyrobin · 2 months
Note
Curious about MCYT with a partner that's usually calm and collected, suddenly being super angry at someone bothering them, maybe almost fighting the person brothering them? (Btw i really love your writing, it's super fun to read!!)
ooooo okay !! I see the vision, hopefully I pulled it off LMAO ; also thank you so much!! that means so much to me, I feel like my writings really corny and dumb sometimes and too boring so thank you, it means a lot to me 🫶🫶🫶
MCYT ; fire in the twilight
includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, & quackity
warnings ; language, talk about SA/perverts/men being weird
masterlist
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TOMMYINNIT
you're a very calm person
but when you get mad you get maddddd
he's surprised you haven't beaten the shit out of him yet
someone was being kinda weird at a meet and greet at vidcon and you were already stressed and overstimulated from taking pictures with everyone and signing merch and youtooz (guys should I try buying the slimecicle plushie? I don't wanna support a bad company but he's so cute :()
someone took a picture of you stretching where your shirt lifted a bit and showed off your midsection
Tommy saw and immediately called them out while you were taking a solo pic w a fan
when you heard him you just froze and nearly yelled
"Hey, please delete that. out of your trash too, seriously"
"Dude, fucking delete that shit. that's not okay, actually."
you end up nearly beating the shit out of the person....
then comes the Twitch apology 😭😭
you nearly went into a spiral explaining that it's never okay to take photos of ppl without them knowing, no matter when or where
he feels really bad for you but you're able to sit down and calm down to your usual self 🫶🫶🫶
TUBBO
you got really heated while you got matched up with a bigot random on valorant
you were playing with Tommy and Tubbo on squads
this mf set you OFF
they were talking some homophobic, transphobic, racist ass shit and you just lost it
you were READY for this bitch bro
Tommy and tubbo just sat back in silence because they knew you were gonna go off
"one, why do you trust your fuckass government so much?? two, your statements are completely wrong, it takes one google search. three, you're a bitch edge lord, four, no, I don't think I'm cool because I'm a streamer with a platform. five, you're completely wrong about gay people in general, you're doing the exact same thing being a Bible thumper right now. six, shut up! who fucking cares? how much of a loser do you have to be to hate people so much?"
the random just left out of embarrassment and you have to sit afk for a moment and catch your breath
"You okay, y/n?" tubbo asks
dude them and all your chats are worried about you bro
"yeah, sorry. that just... fuck, like, how are people so hateful?"
he reposts a clip of it on tik tok afterward LMAO
genuinley thanks you a little while after you properly calm down because it would've gotten bad if you didn't go off
gives you a little hug and stuff
"thanks for being my little guard dog"
RANBOO
you were getting fed up with how people were treating you and them online and just kinda lost it on stream
your chat was filled with assholes wondering where people were and why you hadn't publicly talked to them in over 12 hours and what your plans with everything were etc etc
"Dude, please stop. all of you. for weeks this has been going on, stop putting me and ranboo on these pedestals and expecting shit from us. seriously, it's horrible for both of us and our health. if you wanna see Tubbo or Tommy, go watch them! they're both live right now. Seriously, it's not funny and it's not gonna make us pump out more content and do what you want. we're people too, we get sad and burned out and tired. eventually content creation gets unfun and you won't get what you want. behave yourselves and do better. we don't owe you anything"
ranboo literally tears up a bit because he was watching the stream in the other room and could hear you, and you were visibly tearing up
you could feel your hands shaking and you just kind of ended the stream because you were so worked up and didn't wanna do it anymore
he immediately wrapped you in a hug because you were just so angry
gave you a pillow to punch and left you be for a while
you're usually very calm but your emotions exploded when you were bottling it up too much
they understood that but their heart bled for you after that, especially w all the hate that came from it :/
FREDDIE BADLINU
people were throwing things at you on stage during Tommy's live show
you played it off as jokes and were fine with jt because they were doing it sneakily in a fun way, roses, kandi bracelets, plushies etc, until someone threw their bra at you
"Okay, can we not?" You scrunch your eyebrows, looking into the crowd as you throw the bra back into the crowd. "That's fucked, don't ever do that again, learn event etiquette. never throw your bras on a fucking stage, it's weird and disgusting"
Freddie looks over at you, standing next to Tommy, giving you a "Holy shit are you okay?" look while also looking for the culprit trying to get their bra back
Tommy instantly stopped the show to reprimand the person
meanwhile Freddie was whispering to you to make sure you were okay
you were pissed but put your big kid pants on and continued the show
you apologized on Twitter after the show because you were really loud and kind of humiliated the people but you were justified with the situation
the people (and the girl who owned the bra) apologized and the situation was over
Freddie feels so bad bc you're so calm and laid back but ppl always have to test your limits :(
NIKI NIHACHU
people were filming you two out in public and taking pictures and you kinda lost it that they weren't listening to niki, telling them to kindly stop
"can you stop taking pictures? she's uncomfortable, please stop." you speak in a stern voice
the fans just like stare at you in shock because you're usually very calm and chill and you basically yelled at them (you reprimanded them because one it's the law two you both didn't want to be disturbed on your walk)
you're in a miserable mood the whole way home because yk how twitters gonna act when they see that
you quickly make a statement before any video leaks or anything, addressing the situation and apologizing to the strangers
ppl got ur back tho and showed support considering they were filming you on a nice walk without consent
she feels so bad seeing you get upset about it and feels like it's her fault
lots of reassuring her that it's never her fault and you're always happy to defend her and you don't mind getting a little loud to defend her
ALEX QUACKITY
you got really upset with someone harassing a bunch of creators during the qsmp Brazil meetup
"Dude, leave them alone. they don't want to take a picture with you and they don't owe you anything! you're being creepy to all those women right now, do you not realize that or something?"
you were furious seeing that many on your friends, even while on a trip, couldn't just not be harassed by men
the weirdo scurried off but you were literally this close to fighting the fucker
you were seething dude, like, shaking because you were so astonished someone could actually be that pushy and that much of a dick over a picture
Alex wrapped you in a tight hug and just squeezed you until you calmed down while the poor people who were harassed had reassured you that they were okay and that they appreciated and thanked you for standing up for them
Alex genuinley apologizes because the way you reacted just proved to him that you definitely are calm and laid back but when you got angry, you got angry
he feels so bad because you had to stand up for your friends and watch them be harassed and shit
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tommysversion · 1 year
Text
Pre Game ( DBF / BFD Joel Miller x Reader )
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Summary: Joel is your dad’s best friend, and your friend’s dad to boot. Wanting him is a bad idea, but it’s not like he feels the same… right?
CWs: age gap / references to cheating / semi protected sex / threats of spanking / language / dirty talk
Tag List: @joelsgirl @pr0ximamidnight @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab @schizoel @bearsbeetsbeskar @loquaciousferret @pedritosdarling @chaotic-mystery
(I’m sure I’ve missed someone I’m sorry 😂)
Notes: finally, that DBF fic.
Buy Me A Coffee?
You’re really starting to feel bad about how much you’re paying attention to him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so guilt inducing if it was a new thing, something you could brush off as fleeting interest, but the fact of the matter is you’ve had your eye on him for literally the better part of two years now.
You’ve always noticed him; how can you not? He’s your dad’s best friend. They work together, then every other week he’s at your house to watch the game. Before, you were aware of him.
But ever since you moved back home after your college relationship went bust? You can’t take your eyes off him. What’s worse is you’re relatively close friends with his own daughter, Sarah.
You’re a couple years older than her, but close enough in age that you get along well. Well enough that you’d hang out together, text each other over the years, trust each other with secrets and girls nights and the bullshit that comes with being a young woman in this day and age. Wanting her dad just feels like a betrayal, but you can’t help it.
Besides, it’s not like he wants you back. Right?
Your dad won’t be home for several hours yet; he got called out to an urgent maintenance job, something about a blown circuit board causing a whole block to have spotty power. Considering there’s some important game on today, it’s not ideal.
You guess he must be too busy to have had time to message Joel to let him know, or more likely, forgot. Not that it matters - there have been a couple times when he’s shown up early.
It’s almost embarrassing that you know the sound of Joel’s truck as it pulls up outside the house. Even more embarrassing the way your heart starts racing as you get up off the couch to let him in. You open the door just as he goes to knock on it, leaving him standing there with his hand half raised, lazy half smile on his face.
“Chief not in?” His nickname for your dad has always amused you, the sarcastic banter born from the year your dad was his boss. It was weird for them to go from equals, two blue collar single dads, to your dad bossing him round.
That worksite didn’t last too long, and they were back to their regular buddy shenanigans before long.
“Nah, some emergency power restoration. He should be back before the game starts.”
You step to the side to let him in; no point leaving him outside, or him driving across town to get home only to come back.
Joel smirks.
“Should’ve done what I did.” He pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans, where the do not disturb sign is showing on his lock screen.
“He works too hard.” You agree, heading back through the living room, trusting Joel to close the front door behind him.
You’ve been alone with him before, just a few times, but not since you moved back home. He looks a little different. Older. He’s got silver streaks mingled in with dark curls, a little softer round the middle. But it doesn’t take away from his looks. If anything, it enhances them.
“Always has. Now what about you, huh? Last I heard you were finishing your fancy degree, had shit all planned out.”
You shrug. Your dad had never gone to college; had busted his ass your entire life so that you could. You’d enjoyed your studies, had had some good friendships and relationships there.
Then your college boyfriend with his stupid law degree had cheated on you with the secretary his new firm had hired. You hadn’t been remotely interested in trying to ‘fix things’, instead throwing your mostly unpacked shit into boxes and hauling ass back home.
You had your degrees, you could find work at home. Never mind your wounded pride and inability to trust men your age ever again.
“Sometimes stuff doesn’t go according to plan.” You say finally. “I’m getting a drink. Want anything?”
Joel doesn’t answer you, just follows you into the kitchen. You’re barely aware he’s there until you feel the heat of his body behind yours as he leans over you into the open refrigerator, snags a beer while you’re still deciding.
A jolt of electricity runs through your body at the slight contact, immediately followed by guilt. Never mind that he’s your dad’s best friend, he’s your own friend’s dad.
How could you ever face Sarah if you acted on your want for him?
You grab a premixed vodka drink, pop the cap off and toss it into the bowl on the bench, taking a sip.
The drinks aren’t your choice; your dad buys them on occasion, because as he likes to remind you, there’s no such thing as a ‘girly drink’. It’s funny, but being raised that way gave you the confidence not to give a shit about ordering a beer in a bar, the same way you’ll never be apologetic about drinking a pastel pink vodka premix that tastes like guava and sugar.
Turning, you find Joel leaning against the other bench. Watching you.
“Make yourself at home.”
It comes out far more sarcastic than you intended; immediately, you feel bad. It’s not his fault you’re trying to cope with a raging crush on him. Not his fault that he’s stupidly handsome even in jeans and a button down shirt.
Honestly you doubt he even knows how attractive he is. Somehow that makes it worse.
“Got a mouth on you today, don’t you?” Joel says almost breezily, clearly unbothered by your attitude. “You always this bratty, or is that something you learned at college?”
You can feel your cheeks heating at the implication.
“No college boy could teach me that.”
The words are out before you can stop them. Your slight blush becomes full fledged heat when you realise what you’ve said, how easily you flirt with him.
“Guess not.” Joel takes a long sip of his beer, watches you for a second, as though trying to assess something in his head.
“Guarantee no boy is gonna give you what you deserve, anyway.”
Even though you’ve just taken a drink, your mouth becomes impossibly dry.
“What I deserve?” You put the bottle down before you drop the damn thing.
Joel’s expression doesn’t change as he drains his beer, sets the empty bottle on the bench behind him.
“See, if you were mine, I’d put you over my knee and slap your ass raw for being such a brat.” He says it so damn casually, like he’s talking about the weather.
You open your mouth to speak, then close it again. Then open it.
“What’s stopping you?”
Now, his expression does change. A smirk crossing his features. You half expect him to say something about his age, about your dad being his buddy, or about you being his daughter’s friend.
It’s none of the above.
“You’d enjoy it too much.” He crosses the small space between you, thumb tracing the outline of your mouth. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you looking.”
Your lips part, sucking the tip of his thumb into your mouth, eyes wide and staring into his own dark gaze. Something flickers there, maybe what remains of his willpower being snuffed out.
He lets you suck on his thumb for a moment before he pulls it out of your mouth, fingers closing on your chin and forcing you to look at him.
Your tongue darts out and licks your lower lip, unable to take your eyes off him, off the blatant lust in his gaze. You’re almost afraid that if you look away, it’ll break the spell, that he’ll come to his senses, or that you will.
You don’t want to.
“Eager little thing, aren’t you?” He sounds so amused, but not in an unkind way.
“I bet the thought of me bending you over and spanking you has you soaked.”
For a moment, you consider denying it. The small part of you that’s still sensible says you should. But you can’t. You just can’t.
“Why don’t you find out?” You suggest, wishing you were wearing something a bit more attractive than shorts and a shirt. At least your underwear matches.
For a moment you think he might refuse; are afraid he will refuse. That fear passes the moment his free hand slides down into your shorts, thumb brushing against your clit almost lazily.
You have to fight not to lean into his touch. Fight and fail miserably as that big, rough hand cups you, fingers caressing across sensitive skin.
“Knew it.”
Joel has no right to be this damn smug, and yet he is anyway, beyond amused at how wet you are, just from his words.
You half glare at him, mostly because you’re irritated by how right he is, but also because it frustrates you just how much you need him.
“Don’t start being a brat again…” he warns you. “Keep being good for me and I’ll reward you…”
You can’t help but melt just a little at those words, wondering what he could possibly mean. Well. You have a few ideas, but still, you think his ideas are probably going to be better.
“How?”
He just stares at you, makes eye contact as he slides two thick fingers inside you, silently answering your question and challenge.
Your knees almost buckle, but you force yourself to keep standing, reaching behind you to hold onto the bench top to steady yourself.
You’ve spent a considerable amount of time thinking about this; about his fingers inside you. About more than just his fingers. But hell if this isn’t a good start. If this is all you get, you’ll be satisfied. Needy and wishing for more, yes, but you wouldn’t push it.
Luckily for you, he’s just as needy, pushing those fingers deep into you, curling them, watching the way your eyes drop closed. Like he hasn’t thought about this a great deal, when in reality it’s all he thinks about.
“See? Told you if you were good for me, it’d pay off…”
You smirk at him, wanting to be a smartass and tell him he never said that, but you need him too much to risk it. He’s trained you well, without even trying.
“If I’m even better, will you give me more?”
Your eyes drop to the visible bulge in his jeans, leaving absolutely no room to question what you mean. The sound he makes is somewhere between a growl and a groan, understanding what you want and more than willing to give it to you.
“‘M not gonna fuck you in the kitchen, baby.”
The amount of restraint it takes for him to say that is clear in his expression. Honestly, he’d love nothing more than to yank those tiny shorts down, hoist you up onto the bench and fuck you senseless, but the kitchen isn’t the right place.
He has enough restraint to want to do this properly, enough respect for you to be hesitant, even though it’s difficult.
Quite frankly you wouldn’t have cared if he’d bent you over the closest surface, but it’s the little want to be a gentleman that gets you. Even if he does still have his fingers buried knuckle deep inside you.
“What about if I ask nicely?” You look at him through half closed eyes, expression innocent.
“Still not gonna happen in the kitchen.”
You smirk; that’s fair enough. Luckily there are far more available rooms you can utilise, and you both know it. Still, it’s with a definite sense of reluctance that he removes his fingers from you, brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean, leaving you once again weak in the knees.
“Joel…”
He loves the way his name sounds in your mouth, knows it’ll sound even better when you’re screaming it.
“Cmon, baby, gonna show me somewhere we can go that’s a bit more private?”
You try not to look too eager as you grab his hand, drag him out of the kitchen down the hallway to the guest room that’s now yours. Your old room upstairs was boxed up years ago, and your dad has since turned it into a gaming room for his war game miniatures and old books.
Easier for you to take the guest room, make it your own space. That and it would have felt weird, taking Joel into your childhood room.
Kicking the door shut behind you, you turn, expecting… you’re not sure what, but Joel pushes you up against the door almost right away, leaning down to you, his body hot against yours.
You have plenty of time before you have to worry about being interrupted, but still, there’s a sense of urgency in the way you pull him down to you, crush your mouth to his.
In the moment you don’t care that it’s wrong, that he’s so much older than you. All that matters is him, and getting him as close to you as possible, because god knows you’ve waited long enough for this.
He moves his arms away from you just long enough to yank your shorts down, pull your shirt over your head, toss them both aside carelessly. You let him before you push him back, until the back of his legs hit your bed.
Joel lets you, lets you push him back and straddle his lap, leaning down to kiss him as you shed your lace bra, leaving you bare to his gaze as you grind yourself against the significant bulge in his jeans.
“Fuck, baby, you gonna take charge all the time?”
It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t care, not in the damn slightest, as your hands find his belt, work the zip of his jeans down.
You don’t answer him, just kiss him again, hard and desperate as your hand wraps around his cock, frees him from his pants and strokes him eagerly.
The sound he makes is goddamn sinful as you drag your soaked core along his length, coating him with your wetness. You want to take your time, but you know your dad could be back any minute, and you’re too needy and desperate to take your time.
Luckily, he seems to feel the same way.
“You gonna ride this cock, baby? Gonna take it like a good girl?”
That’s absolutely your intention; you lift yourself up, position yourself over the tip of him, then slide down onto his length, every inch of him sinking into you slowly.
His hands settle on your hips, guiding you down, keeping you there for a moment, fingers tightening on your waist.
“Fuck, you feel so good…” he breathes it out slowly, watches you toss your hair over your shoulder, smirk down at him as you start to move, drawing another delicious groan from his lips.
You don’t answer, focus entirely on riding him, lifting yourself up and dropping back down, one hand rubbing at your clit as you move.
“Such a pretty girl, so fuckin’ good for me…”
You whimper, and maybe that’s what finally snaps him, because his hands tighten on your waist and he starts to move, no longer letting you do all the work, hips snapping up against yours, hard and fast, precisely how you’ve always imagined he would fuck you.
“Dirty little thing aren’t you? All this time you’ve been wanting me…” he almost growls it, breath hitched as he ruts up into you, pupils blown wide with lust as he watches you.
“Joel…”
You’re so close you can feel it, every nerve in your body alight as you tighten around him.
“Go on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock, I know you want to. Can feel this tight little pussy, so needy for me…”
It’s his filthy words, the feeling of him inside you, your hand on your clit, the combination of all of it, that sends you over, has you shaking on top of him, held up by his big strong hands as you find your release.
He can see the scar on your arm where your implant was put in, sees you looking and the way you bite your lip, and that’s enough for him, bucking up into you until he can’t hold out any longer, cursing and moaning as he fills you, you grinding down against him the entire damn time.
“Fuck…” he groans it as you lean down to kiss his cheek.
“Worth the wait.” You tease as you climb off of him with shaking legs, pick up your clothes and start re dressing yourself.
“Absolutely.” He zips up his jeans, sits up lazily, watches you pull those ridiculously tiny shorts back on.
You grin, feeling his eyes on you.
“Come on. Let’s go have another drink and pretend to be completely innocent before my dad gets back.”
Joel groans. You’re going to be the absolute death of him.
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yoonsenji · 6 months
Text
Summary: Meeting your parents <3
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˚₊‧꒰აTokyo Revengers.
𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Fluff/Crush/Warning.
character : Sanzu, Chifuyu, Izana, Mikey, Emma,
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Sanzu (Bonten)⋆。° ✮
Sanzu is the number 2 of Bonten he's super duper famous and number one warning for the people. Sanzu is a man who slept with any ladies he lay his eyes on, he was the boogie man. Every parents worst nightmare in short.
Sanzu knows how strict your parents are from the way you dress around them. He doesn't like that his princess was listening to someone who isn't him.
He used to sneak into your room from open window when you're out, just to surprise you and steal something important to you of course.
The first time your parents see you two together... It was chaos, Sanzu was trying to flirt with you his hand on your thigh caressing it which lift your skirt up a bit, you were sitting on a concrete wall Sanzu inbetween your leg with an eye full of lust for your love. That's when your parents met him.
Your father bravely walk towards Sanzu thinking he was harassing you and punch him. Of course Sanzu was pissed off and pull out a gun and point it at your father, you stand infront of the gun and that when he found out this guy was your father.
Your mother would pull you by the arm as she was trying to drag you away since she was scared for your life. But Sanzu would yank you back into his arms as he hold you tightly one arm still holding the gun, at this point there was no escape for you, your father nor your mother. You guys were surrounded.
You somehow saved your whole family by literally saying that you'll date him, man... Your father is so ready to punch the soul out of Sanzu but if he does that you and your mother might die.
Ever since you dated Sanzu your life was bad and good to. Coming to your house whenever he please, making out and sex without any shame on how loud he was. Your father and mother hate this man with their whole soul.
Your house was protected 24/7 by gang members, Sanzu only wants you and if your parents show any big sign of disagreeing. To the basement they go, he's keeping them captive inorder to keep you in check and so that you'll never think of any other man but him.
Your parents are disappointed in themselves, their baby have to sacrifice inorder to keep them safe. There is sometimes when the whole family + Sanzu get along... It was on Christmas because Sanzu is always too busy to celebrate it with you... The only time they forget to hate him was when he was gone.
Your younger sibling/s love's Sanzu as well, Sanzu isn't the best person to be in a relationship with but the privilege this mother fucker can give you is... God tier privilege. Bonten control the police since y'know, no one is messing with non of your family since if you wanna live a normal life don't fuck with the number 2 of the most dangerous gang family. Your younger sibling/s would toy around with your man without a problem, Sanzu doesn't actually care that your sibling/s is using him as a prop for their shitty magic show, used him to test the kid makeup, he's up for tea party since Senju used to force him to have one and asking him for anything no matter the price.
"Chiyo! Chiyo! Tea party with me now!" Your sibling/s begged him as they were totally ready to have a tantrums if the rosy pink hair man say no. "Anything for my princess/prince" the rosy pink hair make reply jokingly, "Let's go! Sis! You better marry Chiyo!" The younger kid would yell as Sanzu would have the most smug smile ever. Your father is just standing there trying to make a plan to get rid of Sanzu.
Sanzu tried to win over your mother first, buying your mother a bouquet of flowers for valentine's day. Killing the lady who gossip about your mother since you're in a relationship with Sanzu, listening to gossip and talking shit with your mother together, hiring a maid for your mother since Sanzu doesn't want his Mother to stress herself. Sanzu actually treat your mother like how he treat his mother, any harsh word or if she ever get physical and hit him he'll take it without a single problem.
Your father still hate him no matter what, but he's at more ease knowing his little girl is gonna be in the hand of someone who could take care of them. He's trying so hard to be positive about you but everytime he thinks about it, he realised that Sanzu body count is too high and he's low-key hoping you don't catch a disease from Sanzu.
"Princess, stay for a while..." The Rosy pink hair male said as he wrap his arm around you as you sigh, "Haru... My sibling/s need to be wake up since my parents are out" you told him as a light chuckled escape from his mouth, "I know you two are in love but atleast have some shame around me" the little voice said that is definitely your sibling/s, "what the hell are you doing here?" Your eyes wide open from shock, your little sister/brother was sleeping beside Sanzu, "Got a nightmare last night... I tried to wake you up but Chiyo told me not to" your sibling/s told you as you start to realise Sanzu isn't that bad.
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Chufuyu⋆。° ✮
He's standing infront of the door of your house trembling and about one minute away from an anxiety attack. A bouquet of flowers in his hand as his cheek were tinted red.
As soon as your mother open the door the poor boy confidence leave your body completely. Politely gives the bouquet to your mother and asked to come inside, he's even more nervous to meet your father, the cold glance coming from your father was totally crushing Chifuyu dream of marrying you.
Since you weren't home Chifuyu was having a hard time trying to start a conversation, your little sibling/s asking the most absurd questions known to men kind, it felt like even your sibling/s was trying to break you two up by asking the most complected or embarrassing question, Fuyu would answer the most of the question without sounding rude.
"Why do you like My sister?" The little kid ask as Fuyu feel like this question could ruin his entire dream of marrying you. "Well... She's the only girl that makes me want to live forever with her" Fuyu reply with a nervous smile "Could been better" your sibling/s reply with the most bored look on their face as Fuyu blood left his body.
Your mother likes Chifuyu since she have saw his Fuyu treated you, he was respectful, protective and cute... Making sure you were okay and checking up on you anytime he wish, she's trying her best to convince your father that Fuyu is a good guy.
Your father doesn't like Fuyu for some reason the biggest being Fuyu is a delinquent. "So you're a delinquent...?" Your father ask him as he glare at the nervous boy "Yes..." Fuyu reply the poor boy soul was trembling inside... "Darling, Chifuyu is a good kid, he treat our Y/n like a princess" your mother whisper into your father ears with a wide smile. Fuyu thought your mother was literally taking shit about him.
When you finally arrived home you were soo happy to see the blonde boy in your house. You properly introduce him to your parents, praise and complement about the boy only seem to come out your mouth which make the nervous boy blush.
Chifuyu is the type of guy who is only soft around you and even in your own house he doesn't want to kiss you. Not because he's ashamed of you, it's that your father piercing cold glare at him make it harder to even breath your way.
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Izana⋆。° ✮
It's either it went horrible or the opposite.
Under the table Izana hand remain squeezing your thigh as he talk to your parents with the sweetest smile. Izana was good at looking pure and innocent, when ever Izana look at you to see you blushing he'll just have this sweet smile knowing that you were nervous but his hand would try to calm you down.
Izana would told them about how his mother out him at a foster home since she couldn't take care of him. Just telling him the most sad story of his to gain sympathy, he would purposely call your mother 'mom' and Apologise just for your mother to tell him it's fine. Guilt tripping is his speciality.
"Well my mother put me at foster home since she couldn't take care of me and my sister..." Izana told them as your mother eyes were full of pity and actually feeling bad for him. "Oh dear... I'm so sorry for you" your mother say as she look like she's about to cry "It's ok mom-" "I didn't mean to call you that miss... Just that you treat me like your son" Izana told as your mother took a deep sigh "You can call me mom to, I would love that dear" your mother was already accepting Izana as his son.
After dinner Izana would sit on your bed as you were still nervous, his eyes was only on you with a smug smile, "Princess, why are you so nervous?" His voice was low and calm as you look at him "Just that... My father is hard to get along with" you told him, Izana lightly pat your bed telling you to sit next to him and you did. He would suddenly pin you to the bed as his leg was inbetween yours, "Eh?! Wh-what are you doing...?" You ask him blushing red "Y'know sex is used to release stress, plus it'll be our first time".
In the morning you'll wake up fresh and way more better than yesterday, Izana was not in bed as you take a shower and went downstairs. Izana was cooking food by himself and it seem like no one is awake yet, he'll give you a kiss on the lip and offer you the food he cook.
Izana is very careful around your parents as well, he doesn't want his gang life to destroy such privilege he get from your parents. Shooting anyone who he thinks will rat out on him, Izana isn't afraid to kill anyone who gets in the way of his plan, it's either kaku kill them or Izana handle it himself.
Izana is a very busy man but always have time for you, he would take your sibling/s with him to gang meeting he only take them to the one where nothing would happen. He's spoiling your sibling/s and teaching them some fighting skill, but mostly Kaku would take care of them since he's the most calm and have common sense.
You're literally known as 'Tenjiku princess' you have no idea but you're under protection 24/7.
Izana treat your father with respect even tho sometimes he get pissed off by him, on the other hand he loved your mother and even call her mom most the time. If one approves the other one doesn't matter that's how Izana think.
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Mikey⋆。° ✮
Your whole family gonna have a new favourite when he come over.
Your mother treated him like his favourite son while your father treated him like how you'll treat a dumb kid. Mikey wouldn't shut up and publicly told everything your parents ask without any hesitation, he was being honest to which make your mother like him even more than before.
Of course your sibling/s knows about the 'invisible mikey' but they had no idea you were his girlfriend. They totally freak out and stay inside their room thinking about the worst scenario while texting their friends about it.
Whenever your mother goes out she'll always bring home a dorayaki pack them in a cute box and told you to give it to your boyfriend. She really didn't even buy you one and told you not to eat it unless Mikey told you to.
Every family outing your parents would ask Mikey to come as well since he's apart of the family... They're really hoping you marry him, for Mikey your family was a second family of his where he can enjoy life with his parents. Since his father and mother are never in his life he sees your parents as a mother and father figure, he's always eager to be around your family.
The whole Sano family and yours celebrate Christmas and Thanksgiving together. It was really fun as well, Emma and you talking while Mikey and your sibling/s were doing their things.
"Baby... Your mother doesn't allow me to eat too much can you pursue her to get rid of that rule, please?" Mikey would ask you with a puppy eyes as you look at him shock "Mikey... When did you start listening to someone about your eating habits... Especially about your dorayaki addiction?" You ask him as lazily roll around your soft bed and groan. Mikey won't even listen to you if it's about his dorayaki addiction and for him to listen to your mom was insane, they have known eachother for one month only mean while you've known him for years...
Whenever he eat, your mother would put a flag on his food so he would eat it and if she forgets your father would put his favourite football/soccer team flag instead. Your mother would buy little flag for each food cause it's aesthetic, for rice she'll put Japan flag, for desert he'll put a dorayaki flag which she specifically ordered for, etc.
Mikey actually is very good at controlling his impulse around you and your family.
The whole neighborhood never mess with your family again cause their son (daughter boyfriend) is Mikey. Every parents with children around the age of 10-18 knows how scary this kid is, Mikey was always the main topic of gossip no matter the subject. But, not even thief that steal from everyone just skip your house since that's Mikey territory.
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Emma⋆。° ✮
She would wear the most appropriate and cutest dress/outfit she could find or go shopping. She doesn't want your parents to view her as a whore and she just think first impression is important.
Your mother and father adore her as she was super nice and soft towards you, Emma would hold your hand the entire time not to tight or loose. It was as she was ready to hold you tightly if you ever fly upwards towards the heaven.
Your sibling/s being a bitch would hate Emma at first since a white haired man told him that she had almost fuck a guy. They felt as though that Emma was using you to lose her virginity as she wish, at first they would lock themselves in their room and think of a plan to broke you two and make you hate Emma.
Whenever Emma come over your sibling/s would lock themselves up in the room and listen to the conversation between you and Emma sometimes. Your mother thought it was weird but she pay no attention to such small details.
One time you find a condom in her bag by accident and your heart almost sink to the bottom of your heart. But, it was weird since you have gone through her bag before today and it wasn't that long since Emma ask for you to give her a lipstick. So, how did a condom magically spond out of nowhere, and you realise your sibling/s. It's good to say someone got beaten up by mom.
Emma would buy fruits and flowers for you and your mother would put those flowers in a jar full of water, set it up in her small garden of flowers and whenever you miss Emma you'll sit next to those flowers.
----------- >
A/n- Some part got deleted idk why but I'm annoyed af since this happens to my other post and got to delete it.
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boyfhees · 2 years
Text
🗗 MORE THAN ROOMMATES | k. ayato
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precis. you plan to move out of your apartment and ayato sees his whole life flash before his eyes.
wc. 10.3k please please please read this do not ignore because of the word count. please read it for ayato in silk robes
genre. humour, roommates ! au, modern ! au, suggestive, roommate to lovers ( ? )
warnings. profanities, this gets sort of sensual pls, suggestive, mentions of sex, disclaimer : there's no style & only writing, very bad jokes i'm unhinged with this one, more or less an inner monologue, unsolicited crack, kys and kms jokes ( ? ), drinking, mentions of dying, open ending ? it's pretty obvious if you'd ask me, thoma and sara are absolutely shit at giving advices, both the reader and ayato are absolute simps oh god please forget i ever wrote this ( actually don't. come talk to me about this )
note. repost :( my brother deleted my account sighh anyway please read this ig this is my fav work ever rip. inspired by this fic by my dearest mai go read it
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ayato has no business living in an overly expensive apartment with a broken heater and cracked ceilings. in fact, he can instead move out any second. one call and his chauffeur would pick him up, another call and the kamisatos will have another villa signed under their names— well, ayato’s name, to be specific. for someone with overflowing wealth and a father who’s an excellent architect, ayato is surely down to earth.
his sister, ayaka, drops by every few weeks to check up on her brother. well, honestly, she only arrives to check up on the apartment and try another shot at persuading her brother to move out, only to return back home with nothing but failure in her palms. much to your surprise, she even offered the landlady a contract to buy the apartment. ‘we can buy, renovate and decorate this— then you and ayato can live happily!’ her exact words, but you declined. after all, you can not keep leeching off the kamisatos and living lavishly with a million dollars debt threatening to decapitate you in your sleep. ayato has done enough by handling your expenses when you were fired from your previous job.
talking about you, your life in the apartment isn’t any better. if you ignore the benefits of being roommates with ayato— which solely includes free boba and the opportunity to watch him in a silk robe every time he takes a shower— you don’t have any reasons to not move out of the apartment either. surprisingly enough, you’re sure that if you continue to living there and keep using the dark and narrow alleyway as your shortest way home from the university campus, you’ll be murdered luxuriously. 
that was four months ago, though, when you were a new resident who paid an offensively high rent for a shitty apartment and saw yourself on the streets in the near future. the you from four months ago is probably cursing the hell out of you; not even probably, it’s certain. every night, you entertain your two lovely, semi-functional brain cells telling you to gather your stuff and move out the day you get your pay cheque. 
you’re reminded to move in with your parents again after you had the nastiest argument with them and moved out impulsively, saying you’ll ‘slay’ out there, in the world, all alone. well, surprise, you’re not. instead, the world is slaying you by having you juggle between three part time jobs while managing your hair-greying college schedule and an apartment who’s faucet goes out every other day. that’s when the landlady gave you the happiest news you’d heard in months : a roommate. 
now, you see, for most people, having a roommate would be troublesome. no one wants to share the kitchen or their favourite spot on the couch or something, but the day you were informed about your roommate moving in, you were on cloud nine. you had a drink, blanked out completely in the middle of the living room for absolutely no reason, even cleaned the apartment extra carefully the next day for dear roommate. you’re crazy for that, you had your reasons. 
first, the rent. thankfully, it is still around how it was before with a bare fifteen percent increase; but hey, you no longer have to carry the financial burden yourself and have your conscience call you an imbecile every night before you drift into sleep. moreover, you’d finally have someone to fix the faucet, change the bulbs, and most importantly, hear you venting about how shit the apartment is. you were also excited about your roommate being the ‘nice, college student in his early twenties’ guy, as informed by your landlord, but that’s for another day. 
and that is how you had ayato as your roommate. his first look was intimidating. you remember wondering if he’s actually a college student and not some undercover assassin. but again, he looks too, if anything, decent, to be an assassin. ayato likes his boba extra sweetened and his closet consists of anything but hoodies and sweatpants. he watches bunny videos in free time and feeds stray cats whenever they come around. he also cooks two meals a day and ends up ordering the third one so you don’t have to overwork yourself after all the part time jobs and stressful classes, helps you with assignment, puts you to bed if you fall asleep in living room— yeah, no. he’s way too decent to be an assassin. 
ayato thinks he’s doing a wonderful job at being a roommate who you can depend upon. from the first hour of the day to the last one at night, he helps you, greets you, stays by your side; he’s an amazing roommate, and it’s a fact. thoma confirmed, and sara thinks he’s being a little too generous but hey, it’s about you; and when it comes to you, nothing is ‘too much’ for aayto. 
so when you tell him on one fine sunday morning that you’ll be moving out next month, ayato sees his life flash before his eyes. it’s been two days since you’ve informed him and he’s still too stunned to speak. 
“hey,” ayato greets you in the kitchen, fetching a glass from a shelf higher than usual. there’s something off about the atmosphere, and it’s definitely not you. so, your eyes travel to ayato as he pours himself a glass of ice-cold water at the ass crack of dawn. “so you’re really moving out?” 
what the fuck. 
no because, you’re still half asleep. it’s half past five, you’re getting water and ayato waltz into the kitchen with his robe half draping off one of his shoulders and a raspy morning voice that has you weak in knees. perhaps, you expect a sweet little ‘good morning’ with his trademark smile that has the landlord’s daughter wrapped around his finger— and you too, honestly. instead, you’re met with a frown hanging on his face and a question about the topic that was last brought up about two days ago. 
“yeah. surprise?” you let out the fakest laugh before letting it die just as quickly the moment the sound of your cracked voice hits your ears. actually, you don’t even care about how you look and sound. what’s more important is that ayato isn't acting like himself. well, he’s the one to react quickly and not resurrect a dead conversation two days after, especially when you’re in the process of mourning and grieving about the lack of ayato you’ll have in your life from the next month onward. 
see, you have a disease, and it’s terminal. you could’ve moved out the day you moved in, or the day ayato moved in, or on any day in the past four months, but your condition didn’t allow you. first, it was the lack of green money in your hands to get a better apartment and after ayato moved in, he became the problem. 
you’re down bad. outsold. you have one look at a fine man and you wobble on your knees; one sight of toned muscles and you’re a goner. flatline. dead. there’s no going back. the first time you saw ayato was after you came back from your classes with a cake in your hands to celebrate the welcoming of your roommate. you opened the door and before you stood ayato with his drenched hair and silk robe, smelling like primroses and everything that the man of your dreams could have ever.
he shot you a smile, and you were sold. 
forget the cake, you had a whole five-star exquisite cuisine standing in front of you. rent was no longer a problem, you didn’t mind living under leaking roofs and honestly, even if someone murdered you, you wouldn’t mind. you have been planning to move out for a long time but if that was going to be the scene you came home to everyday, you didn’t mind any of the problems offered by the apartment. 
that is what ayato did to you the day he moved in. 
so, making a decision about moving out and telling that to him was a torture. not only were you losing your man— how funny— but also your daily free boba supplier. it was a life changing, heart wrenching, decision; but it had to be done. 
you shoot him a smile, patting his shoulders as you walk towards your room. “hey, i’m not leaving until next month so don’t think you’re getting rid of me anytime soon.” you hear ayato let out an exaggerated sigh, one that could blow away the wig of your mathematics professor. you don’t know what occurred to him at five-thirty in the morning when he showed up with the saddest frown ever, but thinking he’s upset about you moving out would be getting ahead of yourself and making a clown of yourself once again, in the circus that your life is. 
.
.
.
“dude, what the hell—” that’s thoma, and the saccharine words of compliments leaving his mouth are for none other than ayato. “what’s with your face?” 
no no, not only his face; in fact, ayato, as a whole, is fucked up. he didn’t get a single ounce of sleep last night and you can blame some netflix shitshow for that. and just when he was about to fall asleep, his hydration requirements led him into the kitchen and the rest is history. 
“why is she moving out?” ayato mumbles in the most disappointed and sorrow ridden voice. he didn’t even sound this heart broken when his last girlfriend dumped him in the middle of victoria’s secret because he didn’t help her choose, you know, her lingerie; as insane as it sounds. thoma hasn’t seen ayato this dejected in over a year and the blond head is convinced his one and only close friend, his bro, is losing his mind.
a second passes, thoma repeats ayato’s question in his head. “she, as in yn?” and the next second, he gets his answer. thoma sits straight, back tightened, eyes fixed on ayato who’s very, uh, desolate right now. he has a class in ten minutes but bros before everything, and especially before an hour-long lesson about shit newton did as a scientist. his priority at the moment is to beat some sense into his friend in the politest way possible. 
“why shouldn’t she move out— i mean, have you looked at the apartment? it sucks ass, i’m surprised she made it till four months, i would’ve killed myself on the spot if i had to live there.” ayato shoots him a desperate look, a whine rolling off his pout as thoma’s face scrunches up into disgust because the fuck kind of behaviour is ayato exhibiting in middle of the cafe. “you know, you should move out too. i can clearly see the damage that place has done to you.” 
oh no, the damage is yet to be done. it’s happening slowly, gradually, slower than the tortoise in that tortoise and the hare race, slower than a sloth, drop by drop, sucking the life out of him. ayato doesn’t have any interest in that sorry excuse of an apartment. instead, he’s interested in you. the day he moved in, you appeared in front of him as an angel. an angel with a cake, strawberry flavoured cake that he absolutely despises but you, on the other hand, looked edible— he means, you looked beautiful. you always do, even when you’re wasted after four bottles and a plattering mess. 
god, ayato thinks it’s a blessing to be able to wake up in the same apartment as you. you may say you’re a potato but for ayato, you’re the longest and spiciest chilli in the bunch, he said what he said. and now you’re moving out, he can already spot the differences in the apartment. your stuff is no longer lying here and there since you’ve started arranging your things.
ayato can sense his descent into madness for several reasons. first, you’re just a roommate so why the fuck does he care if you live with him or move to mars; and second, you lived with him for two months without complaints so, why do you want to move out now. he wants to rip his hair out, drink bleach and sleep, hoping to wake up with a better thinking process and stability. 
ayato feels like he has been stripped of humanity, all because you’re moving out in less than thirty days. 
“hi— shit— you need to start sleeping, ayato!” this is sara, and once again, the elite words of compliments are thrown at none other than the boba man. kujou takes a seat next to thoma, observing ayato as he whines and sighs into his hand, looking like a sleep deprived, homeless man who probably has post traumatic stress disorder, but it’s literally just him crying over you, much to sara’s unawareness. “is he okay?” 
thoma shakes his head, taking a sip from his drink, shooting her a ‘does-he-look-like-he’s-okay’ look before sighing at his friend’s state once again. “yn’s moving out and he’s not coping well.”
sara leans back on her chair, rolling eyes at ayato’s diseased situation. it’s surprising that someone hasn’t reported him to the infirmary or some asylum; but she knows the cure. unlike ayato, sara isn’t stupid. she knows; studying criminology gives her an advantage of knowing how to read between the lines, or in this case, ayato’s whines. 
“it’s about time you accept your feelings.” what. she states and it feels like ayato’s heart skipped several beats. he looks at her wide eyed, flabber-gasted, with jaw dropped to the floor. “what? i know you like her. you’re fooling no one with that stupid face of yours.”
no, what sara’s saying is stupid. you’re a roommate. his roommate. ayato’s roommate. mate of the room. nothing less and certainly, nothing more. you don’t share a single class. his mornings start with your face and then ayato doesn’t see you for the whole day, unless you bump into each other on the campus, which is rarer than him getting hit by a meteoroid and dying. ain’t no way, he likes you. sure, you’re pretty. god, you’re gorgeous. human embodiment of goddesses but it’s just the beauty. apart from being extremely gorgeous and someone who ayato probably values more than his life, you’re basically a no one. 
kamisato ayato trusts his instincts, and his instincts tell him that he doesn’t like you. he likes you, just not in that way, not the like-like. not the i-want-to-surrender-my-life-to-you kind of like, not the i-want-to-make-out-with-you kind of like. okay, maybe the last part is a lie— but he still stands by his words. 
“you’re gaslighting m—”
“you’re gaslighting yourself.” thoma cuts him mid-sentence. “i still have the screenshots from the day you spammed me after yn posted that pic. don’t even try to deny.” 
wait, that happened? 
the, going crazy and spamming after seeing your post? ayato likes to think he was drunk. 
“you we’re sober, by the way. never been more, honestly.” and oh god, he’s done for. but that’s okay, right? you’re his roommate, and it’s normal for a roommate to aggressively talk about how pretty their roommate is, isn’t it? ayato believes it is normal. it’s as normal as drinking coffee to sleep better. a human appreciating another human’s beauty, what’s so wrong with that? one should support their kind, mutualism is the way through the ecosystem. rhizobium doesn’t live symbiotically for nothing, after all. it’s just give and take— 
“are you going to say something or…?” sara interjects ayato’s trail of useless thoughts. he still doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t know what to say. he doesn’t like you, right, right— it’s clear in his head, he just needs to put it in words. he’s unable to carry out the last part. “okay, if you don’t like yn, then why do you have a problem with her moving out?” 
ah, yes. now we’re talking. the life in ayato’s eyes revisits. “look, look— she’s a great cook,” hah, what a liar. you’re a cook, not a great one. you don’t even cook in the apartment to begin with. the kitchen belongs to mister kamisato ayato and you sit by the counter to watch him cook and add another ten to fifteen years in your life. “and she can clean,” that’s something you’ve always been good at. truthfully, you don’t mind cleaning or doing any of the chores for ayato. you’re ready to get on your fours and bark for him. “and, she's pretty…”
“there,” thoma interrupts, slamming his hand on the table, having ayato look at him with a curious gaze; which looks horrifying because of his lack of sleep, by the way. “i don’t see how being pretty is anywhere close to why you need her to stay.” 
sara nods in agreement, but ayato knows he makes sense. who wants to live with an ugly roommate? okay, maybe, all roommates are pretty, but thoma, if ayato had to live with him, he’d flee the country. so, being pretty does co-relate with living peacefully, because if you’re not pretty, your roommate will flee countries and that’ll cause unnecessary expenses. henceforth, point proven. ayato still thinks he makes absolute, completely, hundred percent sense. 
“whatever, just ask her to stay if it’s that important,” thoma snickers, rolling his eyes. but what he’s saying is not possible. ayato may be good at flirting, he does have a pretty good record with dating, but he becomes a nervous wreck around you. 
he’s nervous right now. 
you make him nervous. just the thought of you makes him nervous. 
and believe it or not, ayato can’t just walk up to you and ask you to not move away because you’re a great cook, you can clean and you’re pretty— no. he doesn’t have the confidence. the whole process sounds like a secret military operation where flexible deterrent options are a must if he wants to survive. 
talking to you feels like writing finals for a subject he has never touched in his whole life. it’s like skydiving without a parachute, going into space without oxygen, and whatnot. despite spending two months with you in the same apartment, under the same roof, ayato’s communication skills haven’t improved past the ‘hi / hello’ stage. 
it’s like stepping on his sister in front of his mother and then breaking her favourite vase before throwing his father’s golf clubs into the sewer. and even though ayato says he likes you, hypothetically, he wouldn’t stroll up to you and ask you to not move out. that's utterly selfish. you’re just a roommate, a chapter in his life, someone who he stumbled across on his way and took a liking to— platonically— that’s it. that’s all you are. ayato thinks it’s insultingly selfish of him to ask you to stay. so he wouldn’t ask you, but he wants to, he wishes for you to stay, no matter how selfish it sounds.  
“i can’t ask her that.” it’s a stern reply, ayato is way too confident with his words while thoma raises his eyebrows as an interrogative response. “what, you expect me to go ‘hey yn, please don’t move out’ one fine day?” 
“no, but you can definitely go, ‘hey yn, you have a sexy and hot roommate who will do you right so don’t move out,’ at her.” ayato believes that the stupidest and most brain-degrading sentence that has ever come out of kujou sara’s mouth. “i mean, you don’t have to tell her to stay, show her.” 
“this isn’t literature, sara.” 
“i know, but show her the benefits of not moving out,” she repeats, her eyes enunciating a bigger plan behind those few insensible words. “seduce her with your skills, ayato.” 
yeah no, there’s no bigger plan. 
the only plan is to fuck up kamisato ayato’s already fucked up life with her illogical, useless fucked up plan. for someone studying criminology and nailing those charts, sara surely thinks less before speaking. no, she doesn’t think at all. her brain is probably in the suitcase she trashed last week. 
“sara, shut up before i—” 
ayato wants to continue his statement, but thoma beats him to it. “no no, wait. she, she makes sense.” 
no, she does not. 
she doesn’t make any sense.
no dots are connected, the dots aren’t here to begin with. head in hands, ayato sighs again. this sounds like something that would ruin his life beyond repair. to damage his reputation so much, he’d have to flee the country and change his identity. perhaps, the kaedehara family would take him in. 
“dude, think about it,” ah, no. ayato very well knows that thoma doesn’t get to talk about ‘thinking’ and anything related to it after saying sara’s plan makes sense. her words are incredibly thoughtless. “you show her the benefits. drop her to campus and drive her back, cook for her, clean for her, arrange her bed for her, earn for her, spend on her, just anything— show her, ayato.”
no. 
ayato doesn’t like the direction this conversation is heading in. 
or perhaps, he’s just overthinking. well, he has been doing almost everything on that list, honestly. everything as in, cooking. that’s it. that’s important, cooking is necessary, one must survive to eat— he means, eat to survive. he has spent quite a generous sum when you lost your very first job. 
this whole conversation is eating his brains out. you’re just a friend, not even a friend, a roommate. a fucking roommate he got attached to and how his abandonment issues are surfacing and god knows what will follow. he repeats thoma’s words in his head over and over again— now way, it makes sense. if anything, it’s going to give you the wrong idea that your roommate became a sugar daddy overnight and you’re going to be his first sugar baby, as sweet and horrific as it sounds.  
talk to us when you’re in a state to accept your feelings. that’s what sara said before excusing herself out of the cafe with thoma following her shortly behind. yeah no, ayato is regretting every decision that led him to this conversation, this unsolicited therapy session that fucked his brain inside-out. he’s about to leave the cafe as well, planning to skip all his classes and probably go visit a temple or something, until you come around with your friends.
there’s a smile on your face, the one he wakes up to. he loves your smile. ayato thinks your smile is really pretty; you are pretty— platonically. a smile creeps up to his face as well, dissipating as soon as thoma’s words re-visited his mind.
show her. ayato bites the insides of his cheeks. he’s probably going to take that advice. after all, you can make anything make sense if you really tried. 
.
.
.
ayato is on his way to the apartment.
he clearly disposed of all his responsibilities as an ideal student and sprinted out of the campus like a criminal on the run. well, he’s on his way to become a criminal. he’s about to seduce you using his skills and then you’ll report him to the police. doesn’t matter that he can get bailed out in minutes thanks to his mad rich family, he’ll still flee the country, get a new identity, dye his hair. kaedehara ayato doesn’t sound bad, not bad at all. it sounds delicious, healing, sounds like something that would save his life. 
now, he’s on the elevator to the floor. he’s afraid the elevator would stop moving if another pack of stress stacks up on his shoulders. actually, that wouldn’t be half bad.
the elevator stops, security comes, you will come running, the management will open the door and he’ll die in your arms out of collapsing lungs? stress? anxiety? heart attack? you’ll cup his face and he’ll tell you about his last wish— please don’t move out. though, it would lack the necessary fucks to give since he’s dead but in case, he’s alive, in case, then you’d live with him. sounds like a plan. godbless to whatever sara and thoma have done, ayato is incapable of carrying out the general thinking procedure. 
now he’s walking towards the door, fiddling with the key between his fingers. show don’t tell, show don’t tell, show don’t tell— fuck, if ayato ever paid attention to all the lessons about creative writing in highschool, he would’ve been the best selling author; which he is not. there’s a reason why he’s majoring in history, out of all the available options.   
for some reason, ayato expected you to be home. if he remembers correctly, you only have half your lessons and he knows you wouldn’t attend half of those scheduled lessons to read webtoons in the library. 
but you’re not home, and he’s going crazy. did you run away? oh god— what if you already moved out? surprise, with the haha, happy living alone note? he doesn’t wait another second before opening the door, coming across a living room that’s seemingly… normal. 
he spots your plushie on the couch, your gaming console lying around like trash or whatever, and uh, a poster of some levi ackerman from that apocalypse au of the anime you watch after sacrificing sleep to you sleep paralysis demon. he remembers you ordering it a week ago, turns out it arrived this morning and you unpacked it, leaving it in the living room because you were getting late for classes. 
you’re still living here, definitely. there’s no way you’re moving out without that silly poster of yours. 
ayato picks it up, judging the man from head to his chest since that’s where the poster ends. he looks like a bergamot. that’s all, and ayato dumps the poster on the floor and leaves to take a shower. 
.
.
.
it’s six in the evening. 
you got drunk at two for absolutely no reason and passed out at your friend’s place. good for you, your hangover is evaporating. though, your head throbs like something else when you watch ayato in his silk robe after shower when he smells like the man you’d get on your knees for. 
you don’t have high expectations this evening. it’s tuesday and ayato never returns on time when it’s tuesday. no he doesn’t drink and judging from how he’s always up at six on wednesdays, he doesn’t get laid either; which is actually good for you because you would never, ever, want any girl to sleep with your man, even though he isn’t yours. 
you’re met with a pleasant surprise when you stand in front of your door with the keys in your hands, noticing that it’s already unlocked. perhaps, you can at least end your day with ayato in his finest attire. you smile, opening the door, your smile grows wider as you notice ayato’s shoes, it grows even wider when you smell freshly prepared creme pasta lingering in the air. you’re in for a ride. you step in further, eyes settling on your roommate who’s leaning against the kitchen counter with a wine glass in his hand— wait.  
wait a damn minute.
wait a fucking second, that’s— ayato for sure— okay, you decide to take it from the bottom. that’s ayato wearing a silk pyjama, okay that’s new. new for you, maybe not for him, but you’re used to seeing him in silk robes with nothing beneath, you know, bare calves and feet. his toenails probably look prettier than yours. your eyes travel up further, completely leaving out the part you shouldn’t be thinking about especially when you’re still partly hungover, you see his abs— pause.  
hold the fuck up, his abs? you blink, and look again, you stare at him for a better look. abs. fucking abs, you’re— but why abs?! no, you don’t complain. all you’ve ever seen is a part of his chest from the godsent chest window offered by his robes. nothing more, nothing below, not abs. never. 
you— okay— you take a deep breath and process the situation. ayato is wearing the same silk robe, except it’s with pyjamas, however he didn’t tie it. he didn’t tie it, oh god— you’re watching kamisato ayato from the first seat, full access to his toned abs, you’re frothing at the mouth. 
“welcome home, yn” silence. what. what. what the fuck did he say? no, ayato greets you everything but not like this. not in the seductive tone that makes your name sound a hundred times breathtaking and make you feel like you’re an empress to some crazy rich nation, not in a way where you can look at his abs, and he runs his fingers through his wet hairs before taking a sip from the wine. not in the sexy, knee weakening, voice that fills your brain with the visual depiction of ‘pregnant emoji’ over and over again. 
you’re done. sold. dead. gone. mother of his kids, probably? you don’t mind because just when you thought you’re over your silly little crush on your roommate and ready to move out, he stands in front of you, looking like aphrodite’s son or just, aphrodite herself— except, this one’s male. 
“yn, you okay there?” no no no, you’re not, you’re not. you’re not okay. you’re oscillating between having the time of your life and lying on your deathbed. it’s like you’re playing a quiz with your own mind where the first option is to die and the second option is to die as well. you’re— you’re failing to compose yourself and you’re sure if someone doesn’t drag you out of this, you will embarrass yourself horribly enough for you to dig a hole and decompose. 
ayato chuckles. he chuckles. he has the audacity to chuckle at you after looking at that. does he even know about the effect he has on you? no, of course he doesn’t. he probably thinks it’s completely normal for him to stand in front of you, half naked, looking criminally hot; yeah no— someone needs to stop him.
“your face is red,” oh, i wonder why. “are you sick?” it’s such a rhetorical question, you’re not sure if he’s actually that innocent or whether he’s having fun teasing you like this. you nod, avoiding all sorts of eye contact and verbal conversation. you’ve figured out enough that if you open your mouth, it’ll get you in trouble. you’re bound to say something stupid, perhaps about how you want him to blow your back like a glowstick or something, or maybe you’d tell him to dress up and put on some clothes, despite the fact that you very much adore the scene in front of you right now, and make everything terribly awkward for the rest of your lives. 
ayato smiles, putting his hand on your shoulder, and you feel several volts of electric current travelling down your spine. you’re getting butterflies, or perhaps the whole damn zoo with monkeys swinging off your ribs and vertebrates. you want to pass out. you want to faint right fucking now before something goes wrong because he’s standing right in front of you, and his hand is on your shoulder, and you’re getting a much much closer and clearer look at this toned muscles— you’re about to start barking. 
“uh, i’ll go—” yes. leaving is the only option, the only correct option. exactly what you should do right now. gather your useless thoughts, run away, go to your room, take a cold shower, and don’t come out until ayato leaves for his classes the next day. 
he smiles, taking his hand off your shoulder and you take a sign of relief. probably the best you’ve felt in months, really. “okay, i’ll set dinner.”
“i’m not hungry.”
“huh?”
“i’m not hungry, i feel sick. it’s uh— dysentery.” great. fucking marvelous. out of everything, it had to be dysentery. 
“oh. do you need med—”
“no, i have benadryl.” you want to bang your head into the closest wall, want the ceiling to finally collapse, the tiles to break and take you inside. you just want to disappear because benadryl is a fucking cough syrup. you simply excuse yourself before he could ask anymore questions, hearing him suppress his laughter as you walk away. he probably knows you’re lying, doesn’t take a doctor to tell what a benadryl is; and you couldn’t thank him enough for pretending you’re absolutely right with the medications and letting you be. 
you get inside your room, you shut the door, you lean against it and contemplate every decision you ever took in your life. 
where did it go wrong? 
was it the part when you moved in? damn, sure you should’ve moved out earlier. you should’ve ran away the day you saw a fine man like ayato standing in front of you, tagged as your roommate. you know you’d sell your soul or something for him, you are aware of the things you’d do for him, for ayato, because a man like him deserves the world. you should’ve moved out before your inner simp had started channelling herself. 
you grab your clothes and decide to sit in the shower until you prune up and die. that’s probably the only right decision. you’re about to get inside the bathroom when you hear the doorbell, halting your steps as you hear footsteps approaching inside. 
“hi,” that. that’s a woman. a lady, a female human, you didn’t think ayato would be capable of being friends with any other woman beside you and kujou sara. 
now judging from the low, scarred intensity of the voice that’s reaching your ears, you can tell she’s a pretty woman. pretty like those campus crushes but in your head, she’s pretty like those main antagonists of some melodramatic television show that make you want to strangle her to death with every breath she takes. you don’t even know her but the way your fist clenches, it’s definitely jealousy piping out of you like candies from pez dispensers. 
“i’m sorry for last night,” last— last what? “we can continue.” 
continue what. 
no. no fuck, you can’t.
if this is about what your rotten brain is thinking about then there’s no way they can continue. you’re here, in your room, the walls around aren’t soundproof and you aren’t ready for whatever obscene act they’re going to pull in his room, or perhaps in the living room because the woman seems to have zero patience. 
“my roommate is here,” that’s ayato. yes. you nod in approval. tell her ayato. tell her to gather up her fantasies and desires and get he fuck out of your apartment. “hope you don’t mind.” 
what. 
what. 
of course, you mind. you didn’t sign up for some real life porn show when signing the papers for this apartment. moreover, you’re not stable and mentally, physically or emotionally strong enough to stand all the moans and groans that’ll fill up the room when he’ll do everything that you want him to do with you, and you’re thinking this with all your soberness. 
“oh, she can join us! the more, the merrier.” no, never. you don’t want to join them in their silly little adventure. you’re not in for some monstrous threesome, as amazing as it sounds. you still have to live with ayato for around twenty-eight days and you can’t just join the two of them tonight and wake up the next day as if nothing ever happened. 
you’re insane, but the sane part is still functional. your last two lovely, worn out brain cells are working day and night to keep you alive, successfully having you avoid all the pits of embarrassment and shame, you can not let them down. 
you don’t hear ayato’s response, or perhaps, you want to pretend you didn’t. because you definitely heard something along the lines of ‘bend over,’ and then he cues some music. 
it’s sway by michael buble. out of all the testosterone stimulating sex songs out there, ayato had to choose this. well, it doesn't change the fact that she’s living the life you’ve been dreaming for, ever since ayato moved in. you’re fucking glad the song is loud enough to block any R-rated sounds or else you would’ve suffered a trauma and piss your pants everytimes someone brings up sex the next time in your life. 
you’re on your bed, covering your ears with your pillows, trying to sleep, while she’s in his arms, doing the deed. funny, very funny. is there a chance you would have completely misinterpreted the entire situation? maybe. but no woman randomly shows up at a man’s house after seven in the evening and the first thing she asks is to continue their last night activities. 
you wish your ears would fall off and you’d forget everything you heard tonight. the sound of music isn’t helping you sleep and you can waltz to ayato and ask him to turn down the volume in middle of whatever the fuck they’re doing and infect your eyes and lose your virginity along with the last bits of your sanity, but you don’t have the balls to do so. 
you don’t have the balls to do anything. maybe if you did, you would’ve told ayato about your feelings and maybe, tonight, it would’ve been you instead of that woman. so you just do what you can : bury yourself inside the covers and try to sleep. 
maybe if you ignore it, it will go away. 
.
.
.
waking up, you realise you haven’t had any sleep in the past twenty-four hours or so. maybe you did, thirty minutes, or so. that doesn’t count when all you’ve heard last night are some horribly weird sex songs and phrases like, ‘that feels so good,’ and other things along the same lines whenever the music stopped. 
you looked at yourself in the mirror and almost passed out at the sight. horrible, literally. failing valak from the conjuring universe. actually, you can be the new valak except you’ll have real, actual, trauma and reason to haunt people. 
what surprises you more is that you haven’t come out of your room since last evening and ayato didn’t even check up on you. not like he’s obliged to, but he must. despite the fact that he was probably having the best night of his life, he should have morals as a human who cares about another human; or, as a roommate, because what if you fell from bed and broke your back? what if you got stuck in a chair and died of poor circulation? he probably doesn’t care. you’re pretty sure he’ll call the woman from last night the moment he finds your body and they’ll dance and sing on your grave; maybe, even fuck around it too. 
you want to get out of your room and go to the kitchen. you want to eat. but you’re scared the pair from last night would be passed out naked on the floor— nah, you’re not ready for that scene at seven in the morning. and this wouldn’t have been another issue to worry about if only ayato showed a little more patience and compassion and took her to his room. 
well, you have to survive. there’s a harsher world out there.  
you open the door and creep out of your room as if you’ve been meaning to steal something. you’re acting like this isn’t your apartment but the apartment of someone you’ve stolen a couple million dollars from. oh, and your eyes are closed. yeah. you’re not ready, not ready at all. you’d rather bump and fall and hit your head, die on spot; that'd be way better—
“oh, you’re up,” that’s a familiar voice. you’re sure, you look crazy standing in front of your room with your eyes closed, but that’s for another day. the main question is whether you should open your eyes or not. “you didn’t come out for dinner, i was waiting.” 
your eyes shoot open. 
okay. okay…
so, he’s not naked. thankfully, he’s dressed. fully dressed, in a white shirt with a top few buttons undone, black jeans or trousers, whatever they are. you miss the chest window, but you’re glad he’s dressed because you don’t certainly want to look at the scratches and marks from last night and add more trauma to your life. 
“i told you, i had dysentery,” as if he believes you. the look on his face tells he doesn’t. no one would, you ruin things for yourself. 
as expected, ayato is a goddamn liar. the ‘i was waiting,’ part sounds so fake now that you’re aware of what happened last night. because waiting while fucking someone doesn’t sound like waiting to you. more or less, it sounds like he was devouring his dinner while you were starving in your room. 
“did you not sleep last night?” oh, yeah, of course not. he’s getting there, slowly, but he is getting to the point. you wonder who’s to be blamed for your lack of sleep and the reason why you woke up with only one living and semi-functional brain cell. “ah, is it because of me? was it too loud last night? i was busy.” 
busy? yeah, he was busy working really hard blowing someone’s back or whatever. sounds like a tough job, but that’s none of your business. ( actually, it is ) you don’t want to have this conversation. you don’t know how to look him in the eyes. ayato, your roommate, your crush, he rocked someone else’s world while he knew you were in the apartment, probably hearing everything. for someone who’s rich enough to be featured in crazy rich asians, ayato surely does work a lot, and hard enough, at that. 
you want to murder him. chop off his limbs and also the part he’s probably very proud of. you want to shave his head so that no girl approaches him in the future. 
“oh, you probably don’t know about my work, do you?” no. you don’t want to. you don’t want to hear about the details, you’re not ready for this conversation. “i help my mom with physiotherapy,” 
yes. yes therapy, sounds lovely. everyone needs it, especially him. wait, therapy? what kind of therapy is sex?  well, it is some sort of therapy by the way, it makes you feel at ease— no, you’re swerving away from the topic ! okay, maybe you didn’t hear him correctly. he clearly said psychotherapy and he needs to get his licence revoked for the kind of therapy he is giving. it’s giving rise to more mental patients; you, for example. 
“therapy?” you mutter, you didn’t mean to. you need to learn how to keep your thoughts to yourself, you lack severely in that department of life. 
“yes, therapy for joints and bones? my mother is a physiotherapist and she taught me a thing or two,” oh. oh. physiotherapy. is that why he asked her to bend over? what was the need to put on music, though? you don’t understand ayato. actually, you don’t understand anyone in the kamisato family even though you’ve only met his sister so far. 
now, you feel guilty for thinking about him in that light. apart from the potential visual representations of ayato from last night in your head, you have a very high respect for this man. you feel like you should get on your knees and apologise, offer a hand-written apology letter for thinking of him in such a non-PG-13 manner. 
though, you don’t know how to apologise. you can’t possibly go ‘sorry, ayato, i thought you were busy having the best sex of your life when you were actually providing her therapy.’ that doesn’t even sound right. it makes you look like you need therapy, urgently. but you need to apologise for your sake. maybe, this is just the consequences of your actions or in this case, your imagination. 
“i’m—” you open your mouth to speak, but ayato beats you to it.  
“do you want to go out with me today?” 
wait, what?
do what now?
go out with who?
it’s a question that catches you off guard, pushes off off the cliff, stops your heart. the monkeys in your stomach are alive again even though they suffer from utter embarrassment and guilt for assuming all sorts of things about ayato, and the perfect man he is. 
you want to say yes. of course, no one in their right mind would reject such a golden opportunity to ride in his Bugatti La Voiture Noire that’s worth 18.7 million dollars as of when he purchased it. you remember you have a terminal disease where you spot one toned muscle and sell your conscience to whatever demon is out there. even though you don’t see any toned muscles, you see ayato’s collar bones thanks to those few undone buttons, you see the nerves of his arms thanks to the rolled up sleeves, you see him wearing an apron because he was making breakfast, what a malewife. 
you’re sold, almost.
almost. 
the offer is tempting, but your new apartment is more. you’re an adult and it's a fact even if you don’t want to believe it and want to become a cat who solely lives for aesthetic purposes. you need to earn for yourself and move out of this apartment instead of living in a hell just to fill a void called ayato in your heart. 
“i have to go take a look at how the work at my new apartment is going,” you’re surprised at how sane and normal your response sounds. it’s truly concerning after everything that has happened since last evening and the trash that’s residing in your head. 
you try your best to sound apologetic. you are, you really are, you’re missing out on ayato and his Bugatti La Voiture Noire of $18.7 millions, the one that people ( aka, you ) drool over every time they pass by. it’s an expensive sacrifice, literally and metaphorically, worth more than your life. 
“well, that sucks,” ayato sighs, removing the apron in the most seducing way possible, proceeding to run his fingers through his hairs, looking like a mouth-watering, melt in the mouth, sizzling pork at seven-thirty in the morning. “i had plans for us,” 
and you’re floored. 
us. you like the sound of that. you and ayato, ayato and you, hot. very hot, very sexy, sounds like an eargasm, honestly. for a second, you think it’s a dream. it has to be. if not, then maybe he wants to take you to a shrine or something and have you cleansed from top to bottom for all the r-rated thoughts you’ve been having. but, that’s only possible if ayato has an idea of what’s going on inside your head. there’s no way he knows that, or maybe he does. you look at him like he’s the happy meal and you haven’t eaten in a good five-hundred years or so. 
you’re too lost in your thoughts to focus on ayato until he leans in a bit closer, alerting every single neuron in your body as he shoots you a smirk, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “have fun, pretty.” 
and here lies yn, twenty something, majoring in one of the available majors offered by her university. cause of death: kamisato ayato. 
.
.
.
ayato lets out a desperate cry of help, sliding down the walls of thoma’s living room as soon as he enters thoma’s apartment, scaring the living shit out of his friends.  
“go die somewhere else.” that’s sara again. you can’t blame her, she follows thoma like a pest because he’s a good cook, that’s it. food above everything else. 
thoma walks to the entrance, sighing at the sight of his friend lying on the floor, dejected and lifeless, looking pale, running the beauty of thoma’s luxurious apartment tiled with granite floors. if it weren’t for his morals, he would’ve trashed ayato. 
“i feel like a whore,” sara’s face scrunches up in disgust. maybe, judging from the way ayato talks about you, he is a whore. if not a whore, then something equivalent to it. “never knew i’d have to do this.” 
sara leans against the wall that ayato just slid down out of pure despair. “do what?” 
“seduce yn.” thoma practically pukes out all the water from his mouth at his friend’s words. “what, you both told me to do so!” 
sara doesn’t believe his words. they say love is blind, but in this case it’s also ignorant and incapable of following the wise and helpful instructions provided. “how the fuck have you been seducing her?” 
“um, with my skills?”
“don’t tell me.” the disappointment, in thoma’s voice, is astronomical. who would’ve thought that kamisato ayato, the heir to kamisato estate, excels in the art of idiocy. god really said he can either have looks or brains, and completely missed out on the latter. “ayato, i talked about cooking and cleaning and your homekeeping skills and not about your talents in bed.” 
oh.
that’s right. 
even though all ayato did was fluster you a little this morning— see, he’s disregarding what happened last evening. ayato assumes you’re used to seeing him half naked in his silk robe, with his drenched hair while he smells like primroses and sandalwood and everything else that’s featured in Dior’s men perfume collection. he thinks it’s normal. it’s his apartment, he gets to wear whatever he wants and make himself comfortable. 
he doesn’t know what bed skills tho— wait, bed? skills? talent in bed? what? what? he’s not even marginally close to what thoma is thinking; and ayato is sure that he needs to get new friends before it’s too late. 
“what ‘talents in bed’ are you even talking about?” ayato asks, finally standing up from the floor like the kamisato he is and slumping on the couch. 
thoma deadpans. “do you seriously want me to elaborate?” no, probably not. never. thoma has experience in this field, you see, and ayato, as someone who has never even thought about this, doesn’t want him to explain and give details about every single move and curve— no.  
ayato chooses his sanity over human reproductive knowledge. 
“i— nothing happened, nothing! all i did was ask if she wanted to go out with me and,” he pauses, eyes travelling between thoma and sara simultaneously. the latter raises her eyebrows, gesturing to him to continue his precautionary tale about how to not treat your roommate. “and, and i might’ve flirted with her, a little, yeah.” 
the embarrassment is evident in his voice. 
ayato wants to liquify and evaporate. he wants thoma’s house to break down and kill everyone and him too. he wants the microwave to blast, just anything, anything that could save him from this conversation. now, flirting isn’t that bad in itself. it’s good, it’s fun, ayaka flirts with yoimiya when her inner lesbian unleashes itself. sara flirts with shogun for some goddamn reason and everyone thinks they have a thing or two going on because no one dares to talk to ei. itto flirts with himself in the mirror— it’s normal, completely, absolutely, certainly, normal-er than normal. normal-est.  
ayato, however, doesn’t flirt. he doesn’t know how to flirt. the leisure art of flirting is beyond the luxuries this specific kamisato can afford. the last time he hit on someone was a cat, not even his ex-girlfriend, a cat. a feline. it scratched him. ayato refrains from flirting to avoid all sorts of innuendos—
a pause. the innuendos, the fucking innuendos, oh god. what if, what if you get the wrong idea? well, thoma and sara assumed that he has been trying to get laid with you so it only makes sense for you to assume the same after all that half-naked, bare-chested, sexy-wine-sipping, jazz last evening. 
no no no—
he’s done. he’s done. 
over.
if there’s someone who should move out, it’s him. 
this life ruining emotionally stressing psychologically mortifying realisation makes him want to jump down the nearest window and pass out, then never wake up. he wants to trip on air and die of mesothelioma, wants to overdose on sparkling water and die of negativity in his life. 
if he doesn’t die, he wishes for the earth to explode or something so that everyone else dies and humanity comes to an end. his day has been ruined, his disappointment and shame is immeasurable. kazuha better be ready to have an adopted brother because ayato is damn sure the kamisatos are kicking him out after this. 
ayato doesn’t wait for his friends to say something. he simply walks out of thoma’s apartment, dejected in shame, hoping lighting will strike him in broad daylight on a day with clear skies. you’re not home, that’s great. you won’t be back anytime before evening because you’re out with your friends. no, actually, you’re out with miko and the new transfer students beidou and venti, who you are bound to get drunk and pass out with.  
that’s good, it’s great. a godsent opportunity. there are two possibilities: first, either you come home remembering everything and move out the very next day or second, you forget everything thanks to alcohol. he hopes it’s the second one. alcohol does wonders water could never. those two molecules of hydrogen and one molecule of oxygen don’t do shit when it comes to forgetting memories. alcohol, on the other hand, is capable of doing miracles. 
like the time he got home downright wasted and almost kissed you senseless while you were helping him clean up. he can swear, he saw the blush on your cheeks. but maybe, that was just fatigue since you had to wake up at two to deal with him. 
yeah, alcohol, a godly drink. 
he reaches home, grabs a beer can from the refrigerator and makes himself comfortable on the couch. ayato wants to forget everything, hoping you’d forget it all too. 
.
.
.
“ayato,” you whisper his name, shaking his shoulders gently in an attempt to wake him up. not like you want to, the sight of him sleeping soundly is healing you and washing off your sins. one does not see the kamisato ayato sleeping on the couch with flushed cheeks because of drinks and a shirt that’s almost half-a-way undone everyday.
it’s a godly sight. a scenery. mother nature could never. you genuinely want to thank his parents for the masterpiece they have created. 
you shouldn’t sit next to the couch and gawk at him while he’s sleeping. that’s creepy. what if he wakes up? imagine waking up to your roommate staring at you with the utmost attention. creepy, and moreover, you wouldn’t be able to face him. 
but again, he looks like the man you’d like to have as your boyfriend. scratch that, your husband, if not more. as if, anything more remains, but whatever. you smile, it’s a chuckle. you chuckle. you chuckle out loud, hand flying to your mouth immediately, hoping he doesn’t wake up. 
you reach out for his face, tracing his nose as superficially as possible, a faint gasp escaping your lips as he shifts a little. great. you have woken him up. his eyes flutter open and you quickly compose yourself, leaning away from him as you realise about the close proximity between him and you. 
ayato groans as he turns to his right, eyes landing on you sitting on the floor right next to him, eyes wide open like a deer caught in the headlights. a second passes, you’re okay. the next second, you’re not. 
you’re panicking. 
you’re experiencing all sorts of emotions at once because ayato just woke up and he probably knows you’ve been sitting here, watching him sleep for god knows how long. time is a social construct either way, who the fuck cares— okay, you’re swaying from the topic once again. and not to mention he looks extremely hot with messed up hair and those flushed cheeks. you’re barely composing yourself.  
did you mention that ayato has excellent facial features? he looks even more stunning up close. you know you should get up and walk away. hide yourself inside your room, live in solitary confinement for the rest of your life, or at least till ayato is around. but you don’t, because you’re staring at ayato, and he’s staring back at you. it’s like you’ve frozen in your place, you’re pretty sure you’d forgotten to breathe, if that even makes sense?
“hi,” he mutters, whispers, in his godly, eargasmic voice, and you feel like you’re hearing melodies of careless whisper ringing in your ears. 
no, you’re not sitting on the floor anymore. you stand up, pretending nothing ever happened, as if you didn’t stare at him sleeping and continued to stare for five solid minutes even after he had woken up. a very reliable solution, playing pretend always proves to be useful. 
“you can wash up, i’ll prepare the hangover soup,” you mutter, making your way to the kitchen, hearing him shuffle on the couch as he sits straight. ayato doesn’t remember a lot from the events that happened prior to your arrival, yet, which is fantastic. marvels of alcohol, everyone. 
“don’t go,” he mumbles, and you stop on your way. “don’t move out,” ayato doesn’t think before speaking, he never does. he doesn’t trust himself. he said you’re just a roommate, nothing less, nothing more, but he has been devastated ever since you told him you’ll be moving out. maybe, that was all a lie. maybe, this isn’t just platonical. maybe, you have always been a little more than just a roommate to ayato. 
it’s like the fireworks are going off all around you. you’re still processing his words, wondering if he really means them because in the end, he’s drunk. partially, completely, he is drunk. and you can never trust alcohol and its consequences. 
so, you simply decide to play along, hoping he won't remember this conversation the next day. “is there a reason for me to stay?”
“i am,” another quick reply, and you’re losing your mind. it’s like the ground beneath you is shaking. your heart is accelerating so fast, you’re scared it’ll come out of your chest. it’s not your first time witnessing a drunk ayato who has gone batshit crazy, but it is your first time having him look at you with an expression you’ve never seen on his face before. at least not with regards to you. 
he sighs, getting up from the couch before making his way towards you with every step increasing your already racing heartbeat. and before you know it, he’s already standing in front of you, barely a few inches apart as he cups your face, eyes settling on your lips. “please remind me if i forget any of this tomorrow,” 
rest all feels like a dream because ayato, your roommate, the guy you’ve had a crush on ever since he moved in, the man you’d bark for— not literally, maybe, is kissing you. he’s not just kissing you, he’s kissing you, as in literally slotting his lips against yours, pulling you closer with every second that passes. he’s kissing you like the world will end tomorrow and even if it does, you don’t mind. you don’t fucking mind if the house burns to ashes and a truck runs you over the very next day because this is everything you’ve wished for in past two months ( you know, besides having a place with better living conditions to call house )
“ayato—” no he doesn’t let you speak. instead, he nibbles on your lips, soft gasps for air twirling in between as he frames you against the kitchen counter. no, this isn’t your first kiss. you’ve had relationships, but nothing compares to this moment. no other kiss compares to how he’s kissing you and how it feels like you’re on an amusement park ride where the adrenaline gets the best of you and suddenly, you’re drowning between pleasure and thrill. 
that is what kissing ayato is like. 
it’s like going to heaven and back in just the way his hands ghost up your cheeks and slot them against your waist, your hands wrapping around his neck as his tongue slightly brushes against your bottom lips, and without a second thought, you let it in. kissing ayato is like gravitating towards a black hole, it’s like lying at the rock bottom and falling even deeper. you’re not sure if you should be doing this right now, especially when he’s drunk, but the taste of alcohol against your tongue inhibits your thought process, allowing your feelings to get the best of you. 
he pulls away, lips brushing against yours as you lean in to capture them in another kiss, only for him to retract. needless to say, it leaves you a little embarrassed. ayato cups your cheeks once again, making you look into his eyes with his warm breath fanning on your face. “i love you,” that’s all he says before navigating his lips to yours once again. 
you’re not sure if you heard him right. of course, you did. you have a good sense of hearing and there’s no way you’re missing such an important detail, but— love, you don’t know how sober that is. you don’t know how much of this kiss, and every sensation that you’re sharing with each other, is genuine. you don’t know how sober ayato is, you don’t know whether this is because of the alcohol or if he actually loves you. so, you put his hands on his chest, pushing him away as he stares at you with an expression ranging between confusion and heartbreak. 
you kiss the inside of his palms, shooting him a sweet smile, before walking into your room. “say that again when you’re sober.”
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note two. hello if you made it this far im in love you and sending you all the, uh, things that you like ?? probably ?? yeah. trust me, i never knew i'd end up writing a 10,310 words long fic about ayato and reader simping over each other, in around five hours, two days before my english exam. but this had to be done. i had the rough draft in my keep ever since i made my genshin acc ( hi hi to people who remember my nezlys era ) i had to elaborate. i hope you liked this ?? not the kind of writing you want to see or even write, when this is your first post for a fandom but c'mon. it's about ayato. i had to do this for ayato in silk robe when he's freshly out of shower smelling like primroses and sandalwood and everything else from Dior's men perfume collection
send an ask to join my genshin taglist !
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chao-thicc-hcs · 10 months
Note
Hi there I really love your work and I was wondering if you could make a head cannon with hanma, manjiro/mikey and sanzu about "if their little sister was sexually harassed or touched inappropriately", not for any weird reasons I just really want comfort✌️😎 ( this is like my first time requesting anything so if it doesn't immediately notify when you respond could you maybe tag me? )
thank you!
a/n: my love goes out to everyone who's experienced such horrible things, including you, anon. ♡ i hope you're all feeling better and i am incredibly sorry, you never deserve it, nobody does.♡ love you all.♡
also, for further notice, i cannot tag you if you're anonymous, because i don't know your username. but your request was sent, thank you for the kind words!
featuring: bonten!sanzu, mikey; toman!sanzu, mikey; hanma shuji
warning(s): mentions of se!ual assault, death, bl00d, bone breaking, drug usage, weapons in general, torture
If their little sister got harassed
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Hanma↷
The fucker that did this to her has signed a death contract
You know that shit is gonna go bad when he loses his grin
Will ask her to give him all possible details of the fucker, where she saw him, when it happened, how they looked
He's going to be with her the whole entire time, accompany her everywhere she goes, glaring at anyone who keeps their gaze on her for longer than 2 seconds
If she doesn't feel well, he will understand that, and won't force her to go outside if she refuses to. But he will always be in the same room as her, comforting her with pats and snacks
He's not good with words at all, and will comfort her by watching shows, playing games, or just buying her food
If she has the power to go out, Hanma will spoil her with gifts
Takes her to her favorite bakery and eats sweets with her, trying to make her forget about the encounter
Gives piggy back rides, deffo
For shits and giggles, he will tease her about their childhood memories and probably will chase her around a field, or play hide and seek with her
Always makes sure to check up on her, though, and walks with her to and after school
Definitely gets Kisaki involved and both devise a plan to hunt the bastard down and kill them
Spoiler - it's successful.
Hanma makes sure their death is slow and painful, torturing them first
Kisaki is filming everything
They touched you? Both their arms are now broken
They did something more? Their genitals are cut
If she has a strong stomach, Hanma won't hesitate to show her the video
Even after months and years, he will still interrogate every single new friend his sister makes, especially if it's a guy
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toman!Mikey↷
He will cry
No, really, he deffo will cry with her
Buys tons of dorayaki and taiyaki to eat with her and bawl their eyes out together
Has a big blanket wrapped around them and asks Emma to make them lots of ramen to eat together
He will bring her with him at all times, and even when he cannot be around, he will tell either Draken or Takemichi to look after her
Follows you like a dog, he's way too afraid to let you out alone anymore
Emma will also comfort you with him, taking you shopping, making you cook with her and etc.
Mikey will be goofier so he makes you laugh, or he will do stupid shit that will make your life flash before your eyes, just so you forget about all that for a while
Always tries to talk to her and develop very deep topics (without any sexual ones) so she can relax around him and talk in peace
Asks for in depth narration of how her day went, listens to all the new gossip from school or just in general
Goes to the arcade with her. A huge try-hard that wins all the games and gets her plushies, competes with her on who will eat more taiyaki (he always wins but lets her win instead)
However, deep inside, under all this happiness, Mikey will be boiling with rage and is desperately trying to find the person who did this to her
He wants to deal with them alone, and he does so
Manages to get some information from her beforehand, and he makes sure the bastard never touches another human being again
Mikey ambushes him, and beats him to a pulp, carrying the blood of the assaulter with pride
bonten!Mikey↷
Oh lord
He will be furious, and it will be prominent even under his blank expression.
Goes insane, trashing and walking around the entire building like a maniac searching for their stash (after she's left, he doesn't want her to see him like this)
Asks her to tell him everything, absolutely
Immediately orders Kokonoi to take her out shopping, buy her all the shit she lays her eyes upon, and lets her order everyone around for the time being
If not, he doesn't leave the room without her, always supervises her and stays near her
Not good with words , but somehow tries making his presence more.. comforting around her
Doesn't act too harshly in front of her, so to not scare her
Pats her head and tells her "It's not your fault" "I'll make sure this never happens to you again."
Teaches her self defense, and buys her all sorts of pepper sprays, knives (he'd never let her use a gun or katana in her life) and etc.
Still asks his subordinates to keep an eye out on her when she has to go out (he cannot go out for obvious reasons)
Doesn't sleep until he finds who did this to her
Makes sure their death is gruesome and slow, and uses all torture methods bonten has to offer
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toman!Sanzu↷
Doesn't say anything, nor has a hasty reaction
Would take her to a bakery, order cheesecake and listen to her vent about it
Listens attentively, and doesn't dare to interrupt
Abides by her wishes the entire day, buys her food, carries her on his back, does everything she asks him to
Another one who isn't good with words. But his love languge will be cleaning her room and taking over her chores, placing a packet of snacks on her desk, every time
Tells her teachers not to bother her too much until she's feeling better
Hugs her, but for no longer than 5 seconds
For the sake of her wellbeing, Sanzu lets her do his hair, his skin care, pluck his eyebrows, and even try on new make up
Watches her from the shadows, all the time. She doesn't notice him at all, but he's there, ready to act when needed
If she manages to give him information on how the person looked, Sanzu will hunt them down with Muto
Muto will beat them to a pulp, and Sanzu will cut off their fingers one by one
bonten!Sanzu↷
Man's furious
Doesn't even fucking wait, demands to find the fucker right now on the spot
He cannot sit straight knowing that the person hasn't been dealt with
Makes her choose how the bastard is dealt with. She wants him to get killed? Good. Drugged to death? Done. Tortured to the point of complete insanity and desperation? Hell yeah.
If she doesn't want to watch nor stay around, Sanzu will keep the bastard in a basement, torturing them every day.
As for comfort, he's not much different from his younger self.
Will probably ask her to do drugs with him but Ran and Rindou will punch him
Brings her random stray animals for her to pet and play with
Long, long night walks around the city, talking about random shit that makes her forget about everything
Lets her style his hair, again
Books trips to whenever, asking Koko to help with the money, of course. Most of the time it is outside Japan
Makes sure the memories are unforgettable (most of the time it's him doing crazy shit like starting random fights, tripping over, doing hand stands on children's playgrounds)
Enjoys playing their favorite music and dance with her
Gives her in depth lessons of how to use weapons, and would even lend her his katana (but will always supervise her)
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©chao-thicc-hcs; reblogs are deeply appreciated, i always read your tags
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momowritings · 12 days
Text
Love Bites pt. 10
No luck needed.
Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro
word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters
Preview: Toji ruffles Megumi's hair. His son gave him the confidence boost that he needs. “Tonight. I’m doing it tonight. Wish me luck?”
“She’s gonna say yes either way. Good luck,” he mumbles, the sleep pulling him back under. Toji leans down to kiss the top of his head and walks back to the living room where you were waiting for him... 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Ten: Yes
Toji watches in the corner as you talk to your brother the whole evening. You try to beckon him over, calling him to sit next to you but he told you that he’s fine where he’s at. Your eyes would dim, just for a second, but your brother and Megumi would pull you back into the conversation so you wouldn’t stay sad for long. The ring box felt like a brick in his pocket. He has no idea when would be the proper time to give it to you, and it didn’t help that his son glares at him whenever you aren’t looking. 
You are just so beautiful. He didn’t want to interrupt anything that you were doing, no matter how insignificant the task may seem… but that means he has been sitting on this ring for weeks now.
Toji first tried to subtly bring up the idea of marrying you to Sukuna first. First mistake was talking about it to Sukuna. The other man bore a shit eating grin that made Toji want to shove his face into the window while he was driving them back home from a mission.
“I knew it. I fucking knew it! This is good, man. You’re finally ready to settle down and be the perfect househusband I always knew you could be. Did you already get a ring? If so, Gojo owes me $200.”
“Why the fuck would Gojo owe you $200?”
“I said that you would buy a ring and propose by Christmas. Gojo said that you’re slow as hell and it would happen next year,” Sukuna boasted. 
“So y’all bet on me instead of doing your work?” Toji shot a glance at the other man but Sukuna just waved him off. 
“Oh come on. Your eyes grow huge around her and you follow her around like a goddamn puppy. Not that it’s a bad thing, but any idiot could tell that you were gonna marry her.”
Toji shook his head. “It hasn’t happened yet. She hasn’t said yes.”
“There’s no way she wouldn’t say yes. She’s just as in love as you are. And I better be your best man.” 
The same sentiments were shared by others in the group. Nanami wanted to be the one to help Toji with his suit and the others, and had a few bridal boutiques in mind for you. Gojo wanted to help choose the venue. Suguru and Choso gladly volunteered to help with any and all other wedding details. Nobody seemed surprised when Toji said that he had plans on making you his wife. In fact, in most cases, they were telling him to hurry up. They have already accepted you and the kids love you just as much. You are family in their eyes. 
So why couldn’t Toji just pop the question? Well he thought that maybe it was because he didn’t have any of your folks to ask. Toji figures that it was customary, even though he usually doesn’t give a shit about tradition. Even then, it was like the universe gave him a big flashing sign to get on with it because the third time he visited Ezra on his own he woke up and gave his blessing. It couldn’t have been more obvious. 
So Toji sits and waits. And waits, and waits, and waits as you reunite with your brother and play with Megumi until he falls asleep in a heap on the couch. He gathers Megumi up, the little kid flailing around like noodles in his arms while he takes him to bed. You try to take Megumi yourself but Toji tells you not to worry about it, instead telling you to get your shoes and jacket ready when he comes back. You give him a surprised look but agree, and on your behind you Ezra gives Toji an enthusiastic thumbs up. 
When Toji places Megumi in bed he feels an arm tugging him back before he leaves.
“Have you asked her yet?” The boy is hardly awake. His eyes aren’t open yet his eyebrows are scrunched together. Toji sighs and rubs his face down. 
“I’m working on it.”
“Stop being a scaredy-cat.“
“That’s real easy for you to say, kid,” Toji chuckles. 
“She likes you. A lot. And I like her too.” 
“I know.” 
“…I accidentally called her mom and she smiled,” Megumi confesses. “A few days ago. I think she liked it.” 
“You want her to be your mom?” Of course Megumi sees you like his mom. You’ve been there for him since you came into their lives, and you fret over Megumi even when he’s not around. Caring for Megumi came to you easily, from helping him with homework to packing his lunch, or taking him with you when you had errands to do. That tender love also extends to Yuji and Nobara, who flourish under your care. Everyone did. 
“Yeah. I think she'd be a pretty cool mom to have.”
Toji ruffles Megumi's hair. His son gave him the confidence boost that he needs. “Tonight. I’m doing it tonight. Wish me luck?”
“She’s gonna say yes either way. Good luck,” he mumbles, the sleep pulling him back under. Toji leans down to kiss the top of his head and walks back to the living room where you were waiting for him. 
“Ezra, do you think you can watch Megumi for a little while? I still have a present to give her,” Toji asks Ezra and he nods vigorously.
“Go ahead. I’ll be fine here.”
“Really? Are you sure?” You ask. You are all bundled up with the same scarf and gloves Toji gifted you on your birthday all those months ago and fixing the laces on your boots.
“I’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll be back soon,” Ezra grins. 
“Okay. Thanks,” you say, grabbing Toji's outstretched hand and walking back outside. You had no idea what your gift could be, or why it had to be outside. You hadn’t even noticed that you technically weren’t given a gift by him yet merely for the fact that you felt like you have been given so many by everyone else. Spending this holiday with so many people is a million times better than last year. Ezra wasn’t in a coma yet, but he wasn’t around either. He had his own busy life on the other side of the world and coming back home after your parents’ untimely death was too much to bear. You didn’t blame him, but you couldn’t deny the fact that it was very lonely. Now you had a belly filled with a loving meal, belting out to Christmas carols with the radio while Toji drove you to wherever he was driving, even getting him to sing along with you. 
You notice that the road he took is the same road that your bakery stays. You haven’t been there the whole week, one part because it’s Christmas, other parts because Toji asked you to take the entire week off. Usually you only did three, Christmas Eve, Christmas, and the day right after, but he wanted more time with you and you couldn’t say no. Not when he was looking up at you from laying on your chest and his eyebrows tilted up like he was pouting. You were sure that your customers would understand. 
“Watch your step,” Toji says, holding open your door and taking your hand again. He did take you to the bakery, and it only added to your confusion. He ushers you inside to get out of the freezing cold before you could say anything and you stand in the dark of one of your favorite places in the world, second to only wherever Toji was. 
When Toji turns on the light it becomes apparent why he brought you to your store. The place was completely renovated to the layout of your dreams. You always complained how tight the space felt despite having the space to be better, it’s just that you didn’t have the money to fix it. You look back at Toji who nods at you to keep exploring. 
It wasn’t the type of modernization that sucks the life out of the space it’s in with a grey and white color palette. Your store still has character, accents of red and black dancing on the walls and tiles on the floor, now wavy counters, a deep walnut with their rough edges smoothed out but still bumpy to the touch, giving it a unique texture. The two tables you had in the front near the windows were the same. You didn’t notice when you first walked in but even the wording on the windows had changed. It matched the curled logo you have printed out on your boxes finally on the windows. 
You turn to Toji with tears in your eyes and your hands over your mouth. Emotions swirl in your chest. You didn’t know if you wanted to jump into his arms or break down crying. 
“Wh-when did you… how did you—“
“You’ve talked about all the changes you wanted to make since I met you. All I had to do was listen,” he says, gently holding your shoulder to pull you closer. 
“This is insane, Toji. I mean it was only a week.”
“We’re lucky that Christmas lands on a Saturday this year,” he shrugs. You look up at him in awe and let out a breathy laugh. 
“I still can’t believe it.” 
“You wanted this, right? There’s still some things they said need to be cleaned up but it’s safe for you to be here. Do you want to change anything?”
“No! No, this is perfect. I mean, I can’t believe that you did all this for me. I was fully expecting to hold out for a couple more years to save up or try to find a new store. This is… Thank you, Toji.”
You stand on your tiptoes to place a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes flutter close and his arm tightens around your body. You pull away and his eyes are still closed, his lashes fan over his cheeks and you hold his face in your hands. “I love you. This is the best Christmas I have ever had. Not just because of the bakery but because I have you and Megumi and everybody else to share it with.” Tears prick your eyes again and Toji finally opens his eyes again. 
“Can I make it better?” He asks in a low voice, cautiously. A bewildered expression sweeps over your face. How could he possibly top a renovated shop? You give a slow nod since he looks nervous and he kisses the round of your nose, laces his fingers in your hand, then kisses the pads of your fingertips. You giggle in response, still unsure on what “better” could be until he puts his other hand in his pocket and slips out a golden ring. Your eyes bounce back and forth from the ring to Toji’s face, blood rushing in your ears and your heart pounding. 
“I would do anything for you,” he starts, holding the ring up between the both of you. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that.” 
You begin to cry. It was long overdue. You’ve  been holding your tears back since you walked in but they could no longer be kept at bay. Toji gathers a heavy drop on your lash line and cups your face. “You don’t have to prove anything,” you choke out. “I want you with me. Forever.”
“Forever?” He smiles. You nod vigorously, whispering yes a thousand times over, and he slips the ring on your finger. The blood red jewel glistens in the new bright lights and more sobs escape your mouth. You smash your lips on his again, throwing yourself on his body and he welcomed it. He grins into your kiss and returns your enthusiasm, lifting you off of the floor as you get lost in each other’s affection. 
“I’ve been wanting to marry you for a while now,” Toji says when he finally puts you back on the ground. Your head spins with giddiness. He kisses you again, and again, and one more time for good luck only for you to drag him back down to deepen it. 
“I would’ve said yes,” you laugh. “Definitely would’ve said yes.”
“Megumi was right,” Toji shakes his head. 
“I can’t believe we’re going to get married. I’m going to be your wife !” You squeal and shake your hand in the air.
Toji couldn’t believe there was ever a doubt in his mind that you would say no. You have always been open and honest with him, and accepted him and everything that he was. It was hard to believe that you came to love him and Megumi as easily as you did. There were only a few vibrant moments before he met you, and there is a clear difference in his time line where you existed versus when you didn’t. He wanted to hold onto that vibrance, that warmth that you brought with you everywhere you went and never let go. He kissed you again, slowly and deep, relishing the feeling of your lips, your body touching his and then rested his forehead on yours. 
“I love you.”
“I’m going to cry again.” 
“My little crybaby.”
“Is my husband making fun of me?” You gasp dramatically, but your arms wrap around the back of his neck and you giggle into his neck. 
“Your husband still has to finish the tour. The kitchen is updated too. No more dented ovens.” 
You grasp Toji’s hand with your newly decorated hand into the back of the bakery laughing. 
<<<Chapter One
<<<Chapter Two
<<<Chapter Three
<<<Chapter Four
<<<Chapter Five
<<<Chapter Six
<<<Chapter Seven
<<<Chapter Eight
<<<Chapter Nine
Chapter Eleven>>>
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thermitetermite · 6 months
Text
I return from the grave for one night only to post a Helluva Boss AU. Enjoy my delulu AU about a Christmas tree capitalist clown spider demon and his adopted cyborg clown son.
Also there is swearing and mentions of Fizzaroli's accident.
Mammon being a half decent step-dad AU
Mammon hears about Fizz much earlier though the grapevine (Paimon complaining to all royal demons about how his son got rid of all their shit bc of some clown kid)
Interested, he attends a show in disguise.
He finds that Fizz is good. Like, really good! Dollar signs start popping up in his head. Also the little bugger kind of reminds him of himself.
Immediately asks to buy Fizz from Cash Buckzo. He refuses at first because Fizz is his star but with strong negotiating tactics (money and threats) he caves.
Fizz is nervous about leaving his only home behind but is excited to be "adopted" by Mammon! His hero!
It's giving bought by One Direction vibes
At first Mammon was planning to just train him to be a child actor/clown, give him a TV show and pawn him off to someone to actually raise full-time. He wanted to be the convenient step-dad, not a full time parent!
That changed after the first couple nights with Fizz living in his mansion.
It started with Fizz handing him a red balloon horse.
"Alright, not bad kid, but can ya make a balloon unicorn?"
Fizz ran off to attempt to make it. That'll keep him busy for a few hours, guess that meant he could make some calls and... He was back already with the completed unicorn.
"Give me another!"
"Uh, alright ya little bugger, why dontcha make a Quevie?"
This back and forth happened for the next few hours, with Mammon judging the balloon animal, giving a few pointers when he messed up, and Fizz making the next animal he asked for.
Damn, this parenting shit is easy.
It eventually got so late that Fizz fell asleep on the couch trying to complete a kangaroo.
Sighing, Mammon picked Fizz up and carried him to the bedroom he hired someone to decorate. He tucked him into bed and finally after an entire day was able to make a call.
However, the first call he made wasn't to the networking company or his broadcasting station. Instead, it was to Lucifer, his self proclaimed best friend and a successful parent.
"What is it Mammon? Do you have any idea how late it is?"
"Yeah, yeah. I just had a quick question for ya. What do children eat? Cereal? Oats? Ice cream?"
Needless to say, Lucifer had a long talk with Mammon about how to raise a kid, stating it'd be hard work.
After hanging up and going to bed, Mammon had only one thought on his mind. To raise this kid better than any of the other Sins could. His boy would be talk of the town and the best clown in all of Hell.
That first week of parenting went about as well as you'd expect.
Mammon had the approach of being "The fun step-dad" which included eating candy for every meal, teaching him swear words and showing him how to do all the tricks he thought a capable child could do.
(These tricks may or may not have included tax evasion and driving)
Speaking of, Mammon insisted on bringing Fizzaroli everywhere. Including work.
"Mammon, sir, I'm sorry for filing the paperwork for the expansion of LooLoo Land wrong- is that a child?"
"Yeah, this is my boy. Look attem. Ain't he talented!" Cue Fizz hanging off one of his arms. "Whatdya think Fizzie? Should we keep or fire him?"
"Fire!"
"You heard the boy! Off withya, ya bloody cunt!"
"Bloody cunt!"
Mammon would belly laugh whenever Fizzaroli would copy his swearing or accent. When is children swearing NOT funny?
Mammon's definitely the type to have tons of pictures in his wallet of his kid. Fizzaroli does get a TV show, lots of interviews and the spotlight often but whenever someone asks Mammon about him he immediately opens the photo wallet.
(He would kill anyone who even touched it)
Of course he still has some of the Mammon-ness we know, bribing and pushing Fizz to do shows, acts, commercials and more, causing Fizz to start getting overwhelmed.
Then one day Fizz's accident happened (it's a canon event)
Mammon practically broke down Belphagor's door when he got the news Fizz was hurt, demanding his boy get the best treatment in Hell.
Mammon didn't sleep for the entire time Fizz was in that hospital bed, sitting beside him for days at a time just thinking about how he nearly lost him. He couldn't lose him.
When Fizz woke up/was stable, Mammon was there during his emotional moments. When Fizz asked if Mammon would replace him he scoffed.
"Fizzie, why would I replace you? You're in recovery right now. A break. Yer fans are dying to see that Fizzie face when you get outta here. You're more popular and more in demand than ever. You do the recoverin and I'll show you the huge profit we return."
Mammon to English translation: It's stupid to think I'll leave. You'll be able to return to the stage, I'll make sure of it. You'll get better and I'll be here with you.
Fizz eventually recovered but needed limbs so Mammon sent a request (demand) to the best mechanic in Hell, Asmodeus. If anyone could make limbs for his boy it'd be that rooster fuck.
Of course just because Mammon had faith in him didn't mean he wasn't picky in what he delivered.
"Can ya loop your arm like a bendy straw?"
"Uh, no."
"Then it's not good enough for you!"
Mammon practically sent Asmodeus a list of limb adjustments and upgrades that needed to be done every other week. All other times he had Fizzie trying all these different therapies, practicing with his limbs, and occasionally try doing a trick. (Not clown car driving after last time). Eventually he was mostly satisfied with the work and to celebrate "Ozzie not *HONK*-ing up" he started teaching Fizz how to play the guitar.
Cue a bit of a time skip of say 7 years.
Fizz has his hands in nearly every facet of entertainment. News, sports, cooking competitions (which he surprisingly sucked at), and of course comedy. Fizz didn't want to say it but doing so much had him tired, stressed, and anxious. He was doing this for Mammon, the person who gave him everything. He couldn't just let him down. He'd seen what happened to those that failed him. All those people who got fired for mistakes they made. He couldn't fail.
At the same time Mammon wants to get into the robot doll industry. Not sex dolls because he can't stand the thought of his (boy) brand being sold like that. Instead personal assistance robots that have all the features. It can make coffee, teach you yoga, be a parent, etc. but of course he needs the mechanical help of Asmodeus again.
Once again Fizz is taking trips to Lust to oversee the production of the robots. After 2 years of this the robots are completed (a huge financial success) and Fizz asks Mammon if he can stay with Ozzie.
Mammon is surprised but ok with it as long as he visits and does a show every now and again. Especially guest judging the Clown Pageant.
He doesn't realize Fizz and Oz have a thing until the Clown Pageant (his final one in canon)
Once it comes out, oh boy, Mammon goes full demon mode. Shit gets ugly. Mammon goes on his normal rant (minus the "raised you like the son I didn't want" part) and Fizz, unwaivering because he's seen this a million times, retorts back with all the anxiety Mammon caused. The acting and shows. How it weighed on him. How he was so scared of fucking something up and getting kicked out.
"I'd never kick you out! You're the crown jewel of my empire! My runt turned pick of the litta! I made you in my image! If I pushed you hard it was because you could be better! I raised you! You've got my training in your back pocket so I knew you could be a better clown than I ever was! All of this was for you!"
Eventually Mammon breaks down and asks why Asmodeus. He's worried about their relationship considering he's known Asmodeus since the beginning of hell.
"Why do you need to date him when you have my empire! If you need money, we have it! If you need companionship, we can buy it! If you need power we have that too! We built this empire! Your talent brought in a fortune and you've seen how to run the business! If you need your own power or your own space you can have it!"
"I'm not with him for any of those things! I know I have everything else here! But I love him Mammon! He takes care of me. He's kind, sweet, handsome, and supports me even on my roughest days. I love him."
"...he makes you feel safe?"
"Yes."
"He treats you good?"
"He treats me amazingly."
"You love him?"
"With all my heart."
"...ok."
"Ok?"
"I... Respect your decision. I'm going to make it about me but please bear with me. I know I haven't been the best at raising you. I can be overbearing. And clingy. And I pushed you to do a lot of things that were hard or uncomfortable or er... greedy. I haven't been the best influence on your life but I did my best and if I had to I'd do it all over again."
"Mam..."
"Up up up, let me finish ya little shit. You know I have a hard time letting go of things. And I was kidding myself when I thought I'd have ya forever. I forgot how fast ya implings grow up. I thought I could keep ya safe and smilin but I couldn't even do that right. The second most painful thing I experienced in my life was gettin kicked from heaven. The most was seein you in that hospital bed. I've been smotherin ya since. Yer my boy and I wanted better for ya. Thought I could protect ya if I pushed harder. Taught ya more. Did more shit with ya. But in the end you were always gonna have ta leave ta find a life of yer own.
Mammon paused, taking a familiar but heavily deflated remnant of a red horse balloon from under his hat
"I'm at least glad ya took somethin after me. Yer greedy like me and ya landed the best bachelor Hell has ta offer. I... I don't want to let ya go but... Ya need to do this. Live yer life kid, and live it better than me."
The fucking stadium was in tears (me too tbh)
Before Fizz could say anything (he was choking on his words) Mammon extended a card with his sigil on it.
"Remember I'm always here. Please... Call me if ya need me."
Fizz wrapped his robotic limbs around Mammon, bringing him in for a tight hug.
"I love you, Dad."
Mammon cried on that stage, hugging the son he always wanted.
133 notes · View notes
driversatellite · 1 year
Text
this love | h.s | part three
synopsis: harry and y/n were in a secret relationship for years and unfortunately it had to come to an end, but a year after the split they find themselves face to face once again, maybe they can mend what was once broken.
harry styles x desi!reader  
part three: harry and y/n talk for the first time in almost a year 
word count: 2.5k
series masterlist | main masterlist | last part | next part
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Even though the show had ended no one was making a move to leave, Quinn and Zoya were going through their videos and pictures of the night, trying to find the pictures to post, while they raved about how great the show was, while Y/N was trying her best to keep it together. 
“Wasn’t the show amazing Y/N?” Zoya asked. All Y/N could do was nod her head, she had completely broken down at Sign of the Times and she wasn’t sure how she pulled herself together, but she was hanging on by just a tiny thread. 
She was taking a picture of Zoya and Quinn when her phone vibrated, she handed Zoya her phone, before opening her own phone, it was probably just Kiara checking in to see how the night had gone. But it wasn’t Kiara’s name that popped up, it was Harry’s. 
Y/N didn’t hesitate opening the text, she read over the words and started to panic, she didn’t know if she was ready to talk, especially tonight. She was having an internal debate trying to figure out her best move, maybe if she ripped off the bandaid and talked to Harry tonight she’d feel better, but on the other hand, she was already a mess and she didn’t know if she’d even be able to get through the talk. 
Zoya and Quinn noticed Y/N’s strange behavior and looked to one another, worried for their friend, “Are you okay y/n/n? You seem out of it.” 
Y/N nodded, “Yeah, I’m just not feeling great, it must have been something I ate, I’m gonna run to the bathroom, I’ll meet you guys outside.” 
“Are you sure, we can come?” Quinn asked and Y/N immediately shook her head. 
“Yeah, I’m fine, actually, I’m feeling a lot more sick than I realized, I don’t want to spread it to you, if I have anything, I’ll get an Uber home.” Y/N explained, she needed to buy time and she definitely didn’t want Quinn and Zoya hovering over her while she decided. 
“No y/n/n, it’s fine, we don’t mind.” Zoya assured her. 
“Honestly, I’d rather just be alone, I’m a whiny bitch when I’m sick, and I know you guys wanted to go out after the show, so don’t let me stop your plans.” Y/N explained. 
Zoya and Quinn share a look, they knew Y/N wasn’t going to back down anytime soon and they didn’t want to push it, “Okay, if you say so, just text us when you get home okay?” 
Y/N nodded and gave them a grateful smile, “I will, you guys text too.”
The girls shared a quick hug before parting ways, thankfully the arena had emptied out, there were very few people left, and most of them were arena staff. Y/N let out an exasperated sigh before plopping down on the ground and burying her face into her knees. She didn’t even try to stop the tears this time, and this time they were falling fast, she didn’t know what to do, she was so conflicted. 
Jeff had stepped out to see how empty the arena had gotten and to gauge if Y/N had left, but to his surprise he spotted her crumpled figure on the ground. He was a little glad that she hadn’t left yet, but he knew that her on the ground crying was definitely not a good sign and made a beeline towards her, but a security guard had beaten him to her. 
The security guard looked at the girl in pity, he felt bad telling a crying girl to leave, but it was his job, “Excuse me miss, I’m afraid you’re going to have to exit the arena.” 
Y/N looked up with her tear streaked face, she took a deep breath before responding, “Shit, I’m sorry.” 
She was starting to get up when Jeff jogged to them and started to help her up, “She’s fine.” 
Y/N was stunned to see Jeff, but nonetheless took his helping hand and stood up. The security guard narrowed his eyes at Jeff, “Are you sure?” 
Jeff nodded and held up his badge, “She’s got clearance.” 
The security guard’s eyes widened at Jeff’s badge, “Sorry Mr. Azoff, I didn’t know she was your guest.”
Jeff waved it off, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” 
The security guard gave them one last smile before walking to check the rest of the arena, while Jeff turned to look at Y/N, who honestly did look like a mess, but Harry wasn’t in better shape when Jeff had left him. 
“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Jeff said, pulling the girl into a hug. Y/N couldn’t stop the tears from falling when she hugged him back, she did miss Jeff, he was a great friend to her, and never failed to make her feel better.  
“It’s good to see you too Jeff.” Y/N choked out. 
The pair pulled apart and Jeff nodded to backstage, “Come on, he’s waiting.” 
Y/N glanced to the backstage area, before looking back to Jeff, “Is he mad?”
Jeff shook his head, “Not mad, but he’s shocked.” 
She sighed, “I wouldn’t have come, it’s just my friends are huge fans and they’ve been wanting to come and I didn’t want to ruin their night, but I guess I ruined H’s instead, way to go me.” 
“You didn’t ruin his night Y/N, he’s just shocked, to be honest we all are, this is the last place we expected to see you.” Jeff said as he guided her through the backrooms. 
“Yeah, me too. I can’t believe I’m actually here.” Y/N said as she looked around, it had been years since she had been backstage at Forum and was marveling at how nothing had really changed. 
“Well did you enjoy the show at least?” Jeff asked and Y/N gave him a knowing look.
“I think you know the answer to that.” 
Jeff laughed as they approached Harry’s green room, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed the show, and it really was great to see you. I missed you.” 
Y/N hugged Jeff again, “I missed you too Jeffrey.” Jeff chuckled as he pulled away, and then knocked on the door. 
Harry was quick to answer, he was losing his mind waiting for Jeff to grab Y/N. He pulled open the door quickly but faltered as soon as he saw Y/N. She was actually in front of him, he couldn’t believe it. Y/N was also standing still, she was in shock, she definitely wasn’t expecting to be this close to him again. 
Jeff glanced at the pair before deciding he needed to get away to give them their own space to talk, “Well I’ll leave you two to it.” He bid them a quick wave before practically running to the other greenroom. 
Harry’s eyes hadn’t left Y/N, he was at a loss for words, the only word he could get out was a measly, “Hi.” 
She swallowed hard before looking up at him, “Hi.” 
Harry opened the door wider and motioned for her to come in and she slipped in, she looked around and saw the yellow sofa and the familiar throw pillows, it felt like nothing had changed. 
Harry closed the door and walked towards the sofa and Y/N followed, they took a seat and sat in silence for a moment. 
She looked around once again, before looking back to Harry, “The room is nice.” 
“Thanks,” Harry smiled, “I can’t believe you’re here.” 
“Yeah, you and me both.” Y/N mumbled. 
“You look good.” Harry said, taking her in, now he could really see every little detail of hers that he had missed so dearly. He could even smell her familiar scent of jasmine and gardenia hanging in the air. He had missed everything about her. 
Y/N smiled softly at Harry’s compliment and her cheeks heated up, he never failed to make her act like a schoolgirl with a crush, “You look good too H.” 
Harry swallowed before looking back to her, “So did you like the show?”
Y/N nodded, “Of course I did, you were great, I mean you’re always great.” 
Harry smiled at that, before sighing, “Why did you come? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” 
Y/N looked down at her hands at his question, “My friends are really big fans and they already bought the tickets and I couldn’t say no to them be-” 
“Because you hate disappointing your friends.” Harry finished for her and she nodded. 
“I also didn’t want to make a huge deal out of things, so I thought if I didn’t tell you, maybe you wouldn’t even notice me.” 
“I’ll always notice you Y/N.” Harry said without missing a beat.
They sat in a few moments of silence before Harry broke it, “How’s school?”
“It’s okay, one more semester and then I’ll be on rotations.” Y/N told him. 
Harry grinned at that, “That’s exciting, I’m proud of you.” 
Y/N felt a lump in her throat, but she pushed it down, “Thanks H.” 
Harry could still read her like a book, so of course he saw the tears ready to spill, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 
He scooted closer to her trying to figure out how to comfort her, Y/N just shook her head, “No, no, it’s fine, it’s just, this is hard.” 
“Yeah, I know,” Harry says, before taking a deep breath, “Can we talk about us?”
Y/N glanced at him with an unreadable expression, “What’s there to talk about?”
“Y/N, I still love you.” He said as he took her hand into his. 
Her lips quivered and she swallowed her tears, “We can’t talk about this right now H, you’re touring and I know you won’t stop anytime soon and I’m still in school” 
“I know, but y/n/n, I don’t think you understand, this year has been hell without you, I didn’t know it could hurt this much. It quite literally physically pains me to be away from you.” Harry said, a few tears slipping from his eyes. 
“I know, how do you think I feel? I just, I just can’t do it again cause what if it doesn’t work, the first time broke me enough.” Y/N said, not stopping the tears this time. 
Harry wasn’t stopping his tears either, “I can try, I’ll be better, I promise, I’ll do my best to make things work. Just seeing you again showed me that I never stopped loving you, I don’t think I ever will, you truly are the best thing to happen to me, I need you.” 
“I need you too H, I literally couldn’t function properly without you for a whole month, but I just can’t do it again, I can’t go through another break up with you if something goes wrong this time. I just can’t do it.” Y/N cried. 
Harry took her other hand into his, “We can work together, we can do this. I believe in us, we were something, don't you think so?” 
“I know, I just can’t bear the thought of being away from you.” Y/N sniffled. 
“We’ll figure it out, I swear y/n/n. If it means me coming here every time I have a day or two off I’ll do it, I’ll do anything for you.” Harry pleaded. 
The pair sat holding hands as they sobbed, Y/N looked up to Harry’s eyes and saw how genuine he was being, but she knew she couldn’t make him do all of that accommodating just for her, it would put too much strain on him and that was the last thing she wanted. 
“I’ll always love you H, but right now isn’t the time for us, just give it more time.”
Harry’s heart broke hearing that, but he knew she was right, they just needed to wait a bit longer, “Can we still be friends until then?”
Y/N gave him a watery smile, “Of course we can, I can’t imagine my life without you.” 
Harry smiled at that, he was glad she felt the same way he did. She gave his hands one more squeeze before pulling away, “Well, I guess I’ll see you around then?”
“Let me drive you home?” Harry asked. 
“Okay.” 
Harry gathers some of his essentials before motioning to Y/N that he was ready. The pair quietly walk out of the room and head to the back where Harry had parked his car. Surprisingly Jeff was still there, Harry stopped once he spotted him, “Where’s everyone else? Did they go home?” 
“Yeah they did, also they said something about brunch tomorrow morning, but you’re going to have to check with them about that.” Jeff says and Harry nods, he didn’t think he’d be in the proper mood for brunch in the morning, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud.
“Oh, okay, I’m going to drop y/n/n back home.” Harry says and Jeff smiles, he was glad that at least they were talking enough for Harry to drop her off at home. He bid the pair a good night before walking off to check on some more details for the next show. 
The drive to Y/N’s was quiet, the radio was on but it was quiet and neither one of them wanted to say anything worried that any statement would cause another breakdown. 
Y/N looked out the window, she had tears streaming down her face, but they were silent, she was so torn up, she really wanted to be back with Harry but she thought they weren’t ready. She thought that they needed more time, they both needed just a little bit more time. 
Harry pulled into the complex and parked in front of her condo. He hadn’t been to her new place yet and was trying to take as many details in. Y/N looked at Harry before opening the car door, “Do you want to come in? I can make you some tea.” 
Harry wanted to say yes, he wanted to say yes so badly but he knew it wasn’t a good idea, “I don’t think I should, I have an early morning.” 
She nodded, “Ok, it was really good seeing you, I missed you.” 
“I missed you too Y/N, more than anything.” Harry murmured. 
“Goodnight H, drive home safe okay?” She said as she climbed out of the car. 
“I will, good night.” Harry smiled softly. Y/N closed the car door and walked the short distance from the driveway to her front door, she unlocked the door and stepped in and gave Harry one last wave before closing the door. As soon as she closed the door, the waterworks started again and Y/N was on the floor with her head between her legs sobbing. 
Harry waited until the door was fully closed before reversing out of the driveway and driving away. He wasn’t in better shape than Y/N, he drove straight to Jeff’s place, he didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t trust himself to be alone. 
---
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fandomxpreferences · 1 year
Text
Lady of the Night Chapter Five: I Think I'm Having A Panic Attack
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader
TW: pregnancy I guess
Summary: You and Bradley are idiots and Jake makes sure to tell you.
Word Count:1.6k
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"I'm late."
You stare intently at Bradley's face, searching for any sign of emotion or reaction to the bomb you just dropped. Confusion covers his features and he frowns over at you. 
"Late for?" He asks uncertainly and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you just raise your eyebrows and wait for him to catch up. You see the exact moment he realizes and his eyes go wide. 
"Oh. How late?" He questions and you sigh. "Four days."
You watch as he goes through the five stages of grief before running a hand down his face. "Well, that's not good." 
This time you do roll your eyes and scoff. "Yeah, no shit. We've been fucking like rabbits, this was bound to happen." 
He sits up in his bed and you can see the gears turning. "We always use protection." He reasons and you nod. 
"Yeah, except the night in the bronco." You remind him and he smirks at the memory before remembering the situation. 
"Shit, right." He groans, moving to put on his shoes. "I'll run out to a 24-hour pharmacy and grab some tests. Do you need anything else?" 
You crawl under the comforter in the small bed and try to think. "Tequila." You answer and he shoots you a look. 
"You can't drink." He states firmly and you glare at him. "Don't even start with me, Bradshaw." 
You settle into the bed and scroll on your phone when he leaves, trying not to let your fear and anxiety get the best of you. 
Bradley stares at the wall of boxes, trying to decide which one is best. He ends up grabbing one from every brand, figuring it's better to be safe than sorry. The cashier rings him up with a smile and he tries to avoid eye contact. 
What about him buying $60 worth of pregnancy tests at 1 am would make the woman think this is a happy occasion? He briefly wishes he would have just bought a plan B that night, it would have been cheaper. 
He zones out as he goes through the motions, trying to wrap his head around the possibility of being a father. He's always wanted kids, it's not like it'd be the worst thing in the world. He knows he sees a future with you and he's certain you'd be a good mom. 
Granted, getting his team leader and formerly estranged godfather's daughter pregnant when he doesn't even know they're together isn't exactly something for the pros column. He takes the bag and makes his way back to his Bronco, eager to get back to you. 
The drive back is filled with racing thoughts of what Goose and Carol would think and what your kids would look like. He's certain they'd be cute. Maybe have his curly hair and your eyes. He hopes they would inherit his love for music and maybe be a pilot one day. 
The thoughts come to an abrupt end as he parks and make his way back inside. He keeps his head down, praying nobody sees him. It's late, there shouldn't be anybody wandering about at this hour. Unfortunately, it seems the universe is in the mood for jokes and he groans when he hears Jake talking in the hallway. 
He does his best to blow past him but stops in his tracks when he hears his name. 
"What are you doing up? Your name is Rooster, not Night Owl." Jake quips and he plasters on a fake smile. 
"Just had some things to grab real quick." He rushes out and he hopes Jake decides not to be an asshole for once. 
"What the hell could you possibly need so bad that you had to go out at 1 in the morning?" He asks and Bradley shifts nervously. "You're acting weird, Bradshaw. What's in the bag?" 
Bradley can feel his agitation growing and he moves the bag slightly behind his back. "None of your business, Hangman. I'm going to bed." He bites and Jake's eyebrows shoot up at the defensiveness. 
Bradley turns to continue walking and before he can react, Jake reaches out and snatches the plastic bag. Bradley whips around and lunges forward trying to grab it back but Jake is quicker, moving it out of his reach. 
"I don't have time for this shit. Give it back." He growls with an outstretched hand and Jake laughs. 
"If it's nothing serious you shouldn't mind me looking, right?" He taunts and looks inside. His mouth drops open and he looks back up at his teammate taken aback. "Are you fucking kidding me, Bradshaw? Tell me you didn't." 
They may have a love-hate relationship, but Jake would never expect or want his friend to be in this position. Certainly not when he's in a secret relationship with a superior's kid.
Bradley rips the bag out of his hand and gives him a death stare. "Like I said, it's none of your business." 
Jake shakes his head with a softened expression, all traces of humor gone. "Rooster, you have to be smarter than this. You can't be stupid enough to be hitting it raw." He says exasperated and Bradley pinches the bridge of his nose. 
"That's rich coming from the resident man whore." He snaps and Jake scoffs. 
"I'm a whore, not an idiot. I've never gotten a woman pregnant. Definitely not my boss's daughter."
Bradley laughs sarcastically and shakes his head. "That you know of." 
Jake points a sharp finger and takes a step forward. "Don't even joke about that, Bradshaw. I don't need that shit floating out in the universe."
Bradley sighs and crosses his arms, ready to be done with this conversation. "She's just late. We don't know anything for certain, it's probably nothing. Just don't say anything, okay? Even if she's not, this goes to the grave." 
Jake eyes him for a second before slowly nodding. "Alright, but let me know what happens. And if she is, please let me be there when Mav finds out." 
Bradley rolls his eyes but nods before turning on his heel and walking back to his dorm and going inside. Jake shakes his head in disbelief before returning to his own room. Fucking dumbass.
When Bradey steps inside, you're off the bed in seconds. You take the bag and open it before looking back up at your boyfriend. 
"Really?" You ask and he shrugs. "Better safe than sorry."
You snort and take one of the boxes out. "Yeah too bad you didn't say that two months ago." You joke and Bradley loves that even in a shitty situation, you still manage to find the humor. 
"You were gone a while, what took so long?" You ask and he almost lies before deciding that would come back to bite him.
"Hangman caught me in the hallway." He answers truthfully and your face drops. 
"He didn't see what you bought did he?" You whine and the look on his face speaks for itself. "I'm sorry." He apologizes and you groan. 
"It's fine. I'm gonna go take this." You tell him and he watches as you walk into the hallway and down to the women's bathrooms. 
You're back a couple minutes later and set the pink and white stick on his desk before plopping back on the bed. 
"It says to wait three minutes." You inform him and he nods before sitting down next to you. His hand falls to rest on your rapidly bouncing knee and you give him a weak smile. 
"We'll be okay, no matter what the result is. I'm not going anywhere." He promises and you kiss his shoulder in a silent thank you. 
The next few minutes seem like an eternity and you jump when the timer goes off. Neither of you makes a move and after a few seconds, you glance over at him. 
"I can't bring myself to look." You whisper and he takes a deep breath before standing. He walks over and picks up the test, staring at it for longer than you'd like. You stare at his back, trying to notice any change in body language before losing patience. 
"Well?" You ask and he turns around. 
"It's negative." He tells you and tears of relief instantly prick your eyes. 
"Thank fucking god." You breathe and he lays back down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. You take the cue and join him, both of you on your sides and facing each other. You watch as he shoots a quick ‘negative’ text to Jake before returning his attention to you.
"I want kids one day but now is not the right time. I'm still at the peak of my career and my dad doesn't even know about you." You murmur and he rubs soothing circles on your back. 
"I know, sweetheart. Maybe one day." He says smiles softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 
"Maybe one day." You nod, grateful that he handled this so well. This whole night has been terrifying and it suddenly hits you that you wouldn't want to go through it with anyone else. It's silent for a few minutes as he holds you, and before you can overthink it the words tumble out of your mouth. 
"I love you." You tell him, your voice barely above a whisper. You expect him to stiffen up or push you back, but instead, his arms just tighten around you. 
"I love you, too." He responds and your heart soars. You lean back to look at him and he pulls you into a sweet kiss. You break apart for air after a few minutes and he smiles affectionately. 
"We should probably tell your dad." He suggests and you swallow thickly. 
"We can tell him this weekend." You confirm and he pulls you back into him.
"Sounds like a plan."
@drakelover78 @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @chair-things @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @abaker74  @justanothermagicalsara @isakyakiisak  @mak-32  @and-claudia @atarmychick007 @calsjack  @mattyskies @gspenc  @twsssmlmaa @little-wiseone @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6 @theamuz
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shotgunbunny · 1 year
Note
Lloyd is the type of man to buy you a slut necklace to wear to meet your family.
༻𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭༺
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he would bestie! he'd make you wear some questionable things! which is why I introduce sugardaddy! Lloyd Au!
(warnings!! implied smut!!sugardaddy stuff!lloyd being soft for reader!prude parents!!)
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You had been with Lloyd for 9 months. And by technicality, you mean you signed a contract with the man and moved immediately into his house where you became his little bunny. While he was unhinged and dangerous to you, he was soft and loving. He may be violent with sex but he always made up for it with gifts.
You met him in a sleezy bar. While drowning your sorrows in the cheapest spirits the bar had to offer. You had been fired from your job. And now you had no way of making money and you were about to be kicked out of your place. While your were having a shot, a man dressed in an ugly but expensive polo shirt sat down next to you. You looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
"What's with the fierce look bunny?" You scoffed at this jerk. He was attractive even the hair on his upper lip was attractive, he had a dark look about him. Almost insane but in the glow of the bars dim lights he was just another asshole trying to hit on you. "You. What do you want? And don't call me bunny." He chuckled. "Well bunny, your boss is my friend. I'm surprised you don't recognise me."
You turned and stared at him with furrowed brows and it dawned on you. He was Lloyd Hansen he was practically the only reason that your workplace still existed. He came into your work one day and you offered him a lollipop while he waited. And you ended up striking up a conversation until he was called away.
"What do you want Lloyd? I've had a shit day." He smirked, you remembered him, he said your name and you gave him your full attention. "Listen bunny, I know you've had a hard day being fired and shit. But I want to offer something better." You ears perked up, "I'm listening." He smirk somehow got wider, planning something devious yet you were past caring. "Be my sugar baby, be my little bunny. I've had my eye on you ever since you gave me that lollipop." You thought about it, usually online they became a sexdoll but they got what they wanted, and when the sugar daddy got bored, they left with pockets full. There was nothing to loose so you agreed.
Lloyd was nothing what you'd expected, you thought he'd fuck you and ignore you to do business. Yet instead he treated you like a wife. After fucking you he'd take care of you, he'd bring you in for business, sitting pretty on his lap. A smug smile on your face when you saw your boss. Lloyd was mysterious yet, you didn't care. He loved you more than himself. Which is why you offered for him to meet your parents, and he eagerly agreed.
The morning dawned and you nudged Lloyd awake who was holding you tight against his strong body. You both got up and ate, and headed upstairs to get ready to see your parents. You went your walk in wardrobe when you heard tutting. You sound around and Lloyd walked and settled his large hands on your hips and pulled you towards him. He looked down at you, a smile tugged on his lips. He leaned down and pressed a peck on your lips.
"Ah-ah bunny. I get to dress you whenever I want. It's in the contract remember. And I'm dressing you today." You looked up at him and pouted, "But Lloyd we're seeing my parents today." He pressed his lips to yours again and pulled away. "I know baby. But my word is law you know this." You sighed and watched him pull out a short black dress that had long sleeves and puffed out at the wrist.
He then pulled out a pair of black heels, making sure the heels wasn't too big. You raised and eyebrow at him, "No underwear?" He chuckled digging through boxes of jewelry, "Not a chance bunny, I need easy access." You rolled your eyes at his horny ways. You should have known, he was definitely going to try and succeed at fucking you at your parents house.
"Ah hah!" He pulled out a box which held a necklace, he presented it to you and you gasped. It was a silver chain that glistened with diamonds but the issue was the 4 letter that were bedazzled. 'Slut.' Lloyd wanted you to wear that in front of your parents. You knew it was pointless to argue with him. You sighed and got changed as well as Lloyd. You watched him zip up his beige pants and put on a black stripped turtle neck top.
He looked amazing you won't deny it, but sometimes his need to flaunt his money through clothing would cloud his style and he'd end up with the ugliest shirts. "Can you help me put the chain on daddy?" You fluttered your eyelashes at him and he smiled softly, "Ofcourse baby bunny. Anything for you." You stood in front of him and swiped you hair out of the back of your neck. He clipped the necklace together and turned you. "Beautiful."
He leaned down a kissed you sloppily, getting your lipgloss all over you face and his. He pulled away and squeezed you ass in his hands. You looked up at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek and went to wipe away your gloss and the gloss on his lips.
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When you got there you parents opened the door and Lloyd politely spoke to them, he was half in business mode and half trying to give a good impression. You sat across from them and began conversing with your mother. You watched as her eyes went down to your neck and her eyes widened and shot back up to look at you.
You kept talking trying to ignore your mother's reaction. You watched as she whispered something into your fathers ear and you grabbed Lloyds hand nervous. He squeezed back and gave you a soft smile. You heard a gasp from you dad and looked down at your meal.
"Well this was a good meal." You dad quickly said obviously uncomfortable. "I've barely even finished it." Lloyd said baffled at your fathers behaviour. "Ah sorry it's just we have another thing to do very soon. We have to cut this short." Your mother quickly interjected. Lloyd knew something was wrong.
"Ah ofcourse, we should do this another day then. I need the toilet, bunny can you show me where it is." Before your parents could interject you got up and showed him where it was. He pushed you into the toilet and locked it. He saw the tears in your eyes and how you had shed some. He wiped them away and kissed your forehead. "I'm so sorry bunny, I'm so sorry." You sniffled "is not your fault." He took your face into his hands and pecked your lips, a smirk taking over his face.
"How about we teach these prudes a lesson?" You looked at him questioningly. "Get on the counter bunny." You got on the counter next to the sink, you felt Lloyds hand sliding up your thighs. You spread your legs and closed your eyes as you watched him get on his knees, "Gonna show you how good you were bunny."
10 minutes later you left the toilet together, he held you close aware that your legs were currently jelly after the tongue lashing he gave you. You went down the stairs and opened the front door ready to leave when Lloyd left your side. He entered the room where your mother and father were. He smirked cocky making sure you heard every word.
"It was an honour to meet you, and thank you for making the most delicious meal I've ever had. Truly a pleasure." He turned on his heel and left staring at your wide eyes. "C'mon bunny let's go home. I'm sure your hungry for dessert." And with that you left your parents house no longer caring about their opinion but happy in Lloyds arms and his possessive ways. "Just so you know daddy, I love the necklace."
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violetmina · 7 months
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UPDATE
Hey, y'all. I know it's been a while. A shit ton has happened for me the past month and a half. But I'm doing better than what I was. I have a new place lined up and should be moved in by mid-October. I'm also in a very healthy relationship now with a guy whom I still wonder if he's real tbh. He's very supportive of all my creative endeavors, so I have another person to kick me back into gear to finish Chokehold. I'm planning to start writing again once things have settled.
On a similar note, I am attending FanX this weekend. For my SPN family, you're probably aware that Jared and Gen Padalecki are attending. I have rushed out this piece to try my damndest to get Jared's autograph, to join the Crowley piece I had Mark sign years ago. My art skills are rusty, so I'm nervous. Wish me luck that I can buy an autograph before they sell out.
Thank you all who have reached out, for all of your support. It means a lot to me.
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axl-rose-lover-1987 · 8 months
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Hi guys this is my first fanfic I wrote so sry if it’s shit I wrote it for fun so plz enjoy and if you read it thank you! :)
Axl Rose x Reader
Fluff
Title: Blind Date
Takes place: 1987
Y/bff/n= your best friends name
“No way Slash I am not going on some date with some random ass chick that your girlfriend is best friends with” Axl spat. It wasn’t like Axl rose to turn down a date with a girl but he didn’t like the idea of Slash and his new girlfriend trying to set him up on one he preferred to find chicks at parties or backstage or at bars. “Axl come on man she’s super sweet and funny (y/bff/n) thinks you two will really like each other” “Yeah well I really don’t give a shit man the idea of a blind date is stupid high school type bull shit ok man” Axl said glaring at Slash. Slash rolled his eyes at Axl he knew Axl could be dramatic but he didn’t expect him to protest this much. “Give her a chance ax she’s a real sweetheart and I want to make (y/bff/n) happy so just can you do this for me man” Axl stood there silently protesting. “Look man if you don’t like her I’ll take you to the whiskey a go-go tomorrow and all the drinks will be on me, but at least just come tonight.” Slash pleaded. Axl waited a few seconds and then sighed “ Fine Slash but you better be prepared because I’m buying all the most expensive drinks on the menu tomorrow” Axl said smirking and turning down the hall to get dressed for the date.
……….
“Come on y/n he’s exactly your type I promise you’ll like him” your bff said trying to convince into coming on a double date with her boyfriend and his band mate. “No, y/bff/n I don’t want to go I know he’ll just be another ass hole with a huge ego like every other guy here in LA” you said crossing your arms and flopping on the couch. It was a Saturday night and all you wanted to do was lay around and watch tv you had enough of boys and people for the week but your best friend was set on the idea that you needed to go on this stupid date with some guy her boyfriend was friends with. “No y/n he’s super fun and he’s a great singer and you’ll really like him I promise” your bff said attempting to get you off the couch. You knew of Axl you hadn’t met him but you had see his music video for Welcome to the Jungle pop up on the MTV and you had to admit he was a very attractive man and talented and sure a date with him would be fun but there’s just no way this new rocker guy would like you so what was the point in going. “There’s no way he’s going to like me why should I go?” You said questioning your best friend. “You don’t know that y/n just give him a chance ok, besides if you never try a date with him how do you know he won’t like you.” Your best friend said crossing her arms and looking down on you. Shit you thought she made a good point. “Fineeeee” you said getting off the couch reluctantly. “Yay!! Let’s go get ready come on y/n it’ll be so fun I promise” your best friend said
……… (time skip to arriving at the date)
You guys got to the Rainbow which was where the date was planned at around 8 and shortly after Slash showed up on time but there was no sign of Axl. “ Slash babe where the hell is he I thought you guys were coming together?”your best friend asked Slash. “He was taking to long to get ready he told me he’d catch a cab and be here just a few mins after me he’ll come though I promise” Slash said. Yeah right you thought great you got stood up and now you had to spend the whole night just watching your bff and her boyfriend make out how fun you thought. It was now 8:30 and your really thought there’s no way this man would show up but the door swung open around 8:33 and sure enough there he was. Shit you thought he was handsome actually I don’t know if you could call him that he was honestly beautiful his long strawberry blond hair fell perfectly on him he was wearing a white t shirt with a red blazer jacket over it and he’s green eyes somehow immediately pierced you.
Axls POV:
I was late like really late for a date I felt sorta bad but I’ve never been known for being on time so it was not really new to me. Where the fuck is Slash I thought scanning the crowd then I saw her she was wearing a tight black dress had the most beautiful loosely curled hair and her eyes somehow immediately met mine. She was also sitting by slash and his girlfriend so that better be the girl I’m supposed to be meeting.
Axl walked up to your table and sat right by you “Bout time you showed up ass hole” Slash said to Axl. “Just be happy I came ok man” Axl said smirking at slash. You giggled Axl was quick was his words that was something you learned very fast. “So what’s it like being a big shot rockstar” you choked out you were so nervous and didn’t know what to say. “It’s weird” Axl said looking down at the table “ I love it though I love making music and it’s always been a big part of who i am” Axl said looking up to smile at you. You blushed at his smile. You and Axl continued to talk and there was something abt him he wasn’t just some hot headed rockstar he was made out to be there was more to him he was sensitive and a great conversationalist.
Axls POV:
I’ve met a lot of chicks but never one like Y/n something was different about her she made me feel important I could tell she was really listening to me and she was so easy to talk and it also helped she was remarkably beautiful.
….
Slash and your bff stood up “um we’re gonna need to use the bathroom we’ll be back” you knew something was going on based on the bulge in slashes pants but you were to focused on Axl to really care. “Ok, Use protection buddy” Axl yelled as they were leaving the table. Slash flipped him off as they walked away and Axl laughed, then he stared at you, you looked right at him and blushed as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and whispered . “Wanna step outside?” Axl asked. “Sure” you said as Axl grabbed your hand and lead you outside. You stood there on the side walk out side and watched people go by for a few mins before Axl said something that caught you off guard. “ Shit i don’t know how to say this I really don’t” oh no you thought he hates me I should have seen this coming. “But I really like you like actually like you y/n and I want to try this but i can be messed up sometimes and I can lose my shit but something abt you is different y/n you make me feel loved and safe and I want to be with you” Axl said. You couldn’t believe your ears Axl rose liked you it didn’t seem real. “Axl I want to be with you too” you said… and with that Axl kissed you.
HAHAH THANK YOU FOR READING :) sry if it was trash I tried :,)
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anguishedlurker · 16 days
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A Twisted Situation
Phic Phight for @bellsandmischief / bellsandmischeif on ao3! Prompt "Board game night! The crazier the combination of characters, the better!"
I physically need you all to know that this just sort of happened in about two and a half hours. I didn't write, I was fucking posessed at 3.4k words. Here it is in Ao3 glory
Sam was gong to kill someone, actually.
Star’s lips peeled back in something that couldn’t be called a smile as she waited for Sam to make the first move, waving the hat menacingly.
“I will start a fight you can’t end. Don’t.”
Star’s eyes narrowed before sense washed over her expression, shaking rage off with a short jerk of the head, proper fake smile bouncing straight into place.
Dammit, Sam needed the excuse to leave. Even if it was in cuffs.
“Nothing?”
“Buy your school charity game night pass or leave. You’re gonna build a line, and I don’t care what your issue is, even if it’s really obvious.”
Sam was probably going to kill Tucker worse than she was going to kill Danny, this time.
Danny was… Danny. If box ghost showed up, then getting ditched wasn’t about her.
But Tucker?
“Not that you asked, but apparently the losers forgot to do their homework and now need to do it last minute.”
Sam was going to kill Tucker for not having a better excuse to ditch.
“They do homework?” Star asked, chipper as she watched carefully.
Case in point….
“That’s what I said.” Sam sighed, finally moving to pull out her wallet.
Stupid damn ghosts wrecking the stupid damn scoreboard and pieces of the football field, making Ishiyama panic to get a budget for fixing it now and not next year.
Begging on her knees to Vlad or Sam’s parents was not ideal, and Sam had to admit that this was a better option.
“You donating extra to add to the community ticket pool?” Star asked, leaning back in the shit chair in disinterest, shaking the hat in a taunt.
“Considering I only have a hundred on me, yes.”
Star’s eyebrows raised at that, but she ultimately didn’t remark on it as she put the hat down to unlock the register and shove the hundred in.
It was definitely a first class problem, but one of these days Sam was going to end up tearing out hair over trying to explain that hundred dollar bills are not appropriate amounts of cash to take to so much as an average middle class outing, let alone a charity event in the school gym.
It didn’t have to be her hair either. Violence on her mother sounded nice far too often.
Star absently tossed down four poker chips right behind a sign reading ‘DONATED EXTRA TICKETS’, and picked the hat back up. The crinkle of the numbered paper bits were a guise for the gods laughing at her, Sam was sure.
“Your move, Sam.”
And yeah, it sure was her move.
~
Group four. Japanese number of death, not that it mattered.
Group four, over on the left side of the gym. Wes and Ishiyama eyed her as she approached.
Nobody spoke as she held her paper piece for viewing.
“You know what, I think dad was right. This isn’t worth it.” Wes informed gravely, moving to stand.
“Sit. It’ll be fine, and you got half in advance.” Ishiyama informed, twice as grave.
“The hell does half in advance mean?” Sam accused, already looking to leave again.
Bite her, this was gonna go badly and she needed out.
“Wes has been hired to take some photo’s to help with paper coverage.” Ishiyama stated mildly, her expression warning that if Sam was anyone else the verbal abuse would be much more severe already.
“Okay. Can I ask why Stevie and-” Sam started, motioning to Wes as she spoke even as she made eye contact with Ishiyama.
“You know the butcher place?” Wes asked, cutting off her solicitation of a scathing remark. Ishiyama’s smile tightened, because Stevie and Logan probably were the original plan. Yet, she remained silent.
Dammit. Just this once, provoke her. Give her the excuse.
Bu yeah, fine. Sure. Whatever.
“The one down on-”
She could play ball. She could totally ace the polite conversation contest she and Wes were definitely having.
“They weren’t inside, technically, but like… it’ll be another week.”
Sam cringed in understanding. Lunch Lady and Skulker had both done their number on the joint.
“Well, everyone knows I don’t miss the place, but… Anyone made a card yet?”
They were an alarmingly destructive pair, and debris is rather dangerous to the average person.
“It’ll probably be the homeroom activity on Monday. Now smile, Manson.” Wes sighed, holding up the camera.
Sam immediately made the ugliest grimace she could, even as Wes scowled at her.
“Don’t give me that. I’m with Ishiyama for tonight, and Ishiyama is is in charge of group four. And like, I want to play! Part of my thing was free admission to play. What’s the point of a fight?”
“It just means I go down with you, idiot. And if I go down, I’d do it swinging anyways.”
“Take a seat and wait for the rest of the group.” Ishiyama finally growled, pointedly not looking at either of them.
~
“Ishiyama. I am begging you with no shame; You know, already, how this won’t work!”
Ishiyama was just as transfixed as Sam was on Paulina’s approach, Wes too distracted with taking photos to know the danger everyone was now in.
Ishiyama finally broke the trance to give Sam the most miserable look she could, right as Paulina looked up or long enough to see who she was heading for.
Wes continued to very narrowly evade losing the social politics required to keep from being punched by Dash over in group six, oblivious.
Paulina carefully looked at Sam, glancing at Ishiyama.
Paulina carefully looked at Ishiyama, glancing at Sam.
Sam grimaced and pointed at Wes, who was rapidly realizing that Dash might actually hit him this time.
Paulina immediately fixated on Wes, wide-eyed.
Wes, making his exit, turned to find out that paulina was staring at him, and Sam had swapped to pointing at Paulina.
Wes was now staring at Sam, and also pointing at Paulina.
Sam very slowly nodded.
Wes turned to Ishiyama, who was refusing to look anyone in the eye.
Paulina turned to look at the gym doors, clearly mentally calculating the danger and not coming to any favorable conclusions.
Before she could simply turn around and walk out however, Jack Fenton came bellowing in.
“Hey-o kiddo! You in group four too?” He asked, not waiting to loop an arm around Paulina and start dragging.
Wes looked like he was dreaming of the nearest breakable window, but there was money on the line. He began the miserable shuffle towards his doom..
Sam moved to stand, stopped by Ishiyama.
“God help us both child, if this has to be my night then it’s going to be yours too.” Ishiyama demanded, breathing just a little too hard.
“You and what blackmail?” Sam challenged.
“The glitter and glue spray bomb on the cheer team a month ago, straight to your parents.” Ishiyama hissed, just low enough Paulina wouldn’t catch it in her rapid forced approach.
Sam contemplated, and sat back down.
If she got Sam that meant she go Danny, and Danny was on some very thin tightropes right now. Tightropes apparently held by her parents monetary support, because even if Sam got punished they’d pull their next donation for being bothered with such lowly activities.
This was fine. This was going to be so fine. Why wouldn’t it be so fine?
~
“The first game, at least before we are free to chose…” Ishiyama started, taking a shuddering breath.
“Is however far we get in monopoly.”
There were multiple monopoly sets donated for this event, and no time limit on playing.
The limiting factor being potential assault charges was not mentioned as Wes clicked his tongue and Ishiyama and Paulina both plastered on smiles for the camera.
Sam was going to hate that tongue click by the end of the night.
“I love monopoly!” Jack sounded off, missing the sheer rage of the other four people tapped here with him.
~
“I…”
The silence of the third doubles in a row was deafening.
“I sit my little piece in the jail, and leave to go take a photo of group two in twister. Yell at me when someone rolls me out.” Wes huffed, borderline slamming the flatscreen TV token onto the board.
It was the second turn.
Ishiyama had made them take the Electronic Banking monopoly set, to hopefully discourage cheating as she now held the little device that could read their fake little cards. Ishiyama herself gave a faintly wistful look as Wes stomped off, likely dreaming of doing the same.
“Six, not a double.” Sam sighed, hauling her little coin case to the Mall Of America. Obviously she bought it.
Paulina glared at her, the purse token sitting innocently on the Saint Louis Arch. Her master plan of getting all of those spots was ruined, truly.
Might even have to buy it from Sam.
“Alright! My Turn! Two, woohoo baby! The airports are like train stations in this one, right? I’m taking it!” Jack hollered, deafening. Paulina cringed as she reassessed her plans yet again, watching Jack take his second roll straight into Sam’s MOA. Small blessings.
“So, Jack. What brings you, but not your wife.” Ishiyama asked mildly after fiddling with the stupid little device to transfer everyone’s money, picking up the dice and rolling.
She got herself another ten, and was sent straight to the parking lot. Where there was no pot to take.
“Oh, Mads is out chasing that box spook and the town menace!”
“Alone?” Paulina asked flatly, picking up the dice. Nine. Straight into a treasure chest, which she seemed pleased by.
She seemed modestly displeased by the card she pulled, but ultimately didn’t do anything as Ishiyama verified if she was supposed to do anything based on it. Clearly not.
“Mads is smart! And we promised we’d do something to help get the school in order, so I’m here!”
Ah, yes. Because they’re about ninety five percent of the reason the turf was ruined.
“Right then.” Ishiyama soothed, giving Paulina a flat look.
Paulina seemed unbothered at least. Ishiyama tossed the dice for Wes and came up with no doubles.
~
“Utilities are always good.” Jack hummed, getting his cards in order.
“What about your son?” Ishiyama asked, passive as ever.
“Hmmm…. Dunno. I don’t think this is his kinda thing, though.”
Sam was suddenly glad Wes wasn’t here, the doubles ever elusive.
By the way Paulina carefully eyed his position at team two, she was in agreement. Just because she thought he was nuts didn’t mean she was unaware the moment his little “theory” breached containment to Danny’s parents was the same moment secen kinds of hell broke loose.
“I see.” Ishiyama offered flatly, taking her question mark card.
~
“There’s no way none of you have rolled me doubles yet.”
“Tell you what, Wes… do you want us to just do a gentlemans agreement that you can come back in? I’m sure our lovely team here wouldn’t be opposed.”
“I… wouldn’t want to impose. And those photos-”
“No, truly. Sam? Jack? Paulie?”
“Really, no trouble at all Wes. It’d be mean to leave you there.”
“Whatever.”
“Oh, sure thing kids! Come on, all in honor of having fun!”
“I… thank. You. Your generosity towards rule breaking is truly touching.”
“No problem.” Ishiyama hummed, faintly pleased with herself about dragging everyone down with her.
~
Jack Fenton was the luckiest man this side of Amity.
Sure, Sam had gotten both green spaces already, but this was…
“That’s the last airport, right?”
“I think we’re done.” Ishiyama decided. Wes didn’t take his face out of his hands, his TV token sitting in jail again.
Jacks face fell.
“Yeahhhh, it’s not fun when one person dominates. I know it’s like, luck, but we’ve also got other games to do.” Paulina absently remarked, examining her nails.
“It’s like you’ve forgotten you hate us. Where’s your fast exit?” Sam taunted.
“Samantha.”
“Haven’t. You’re just more invested than I am. And my brother drove me because my engine blew, so I’m stuck anyways because I’m not taking a ride from any of you.”
Jack seemed to contemplate before making his statement.
“I guess that’s fair. But do you two not really…”
“Worlds most open secret my man, not unlike-”
“Wes. I cannot stress enough that I will simply take the murder charge. Ishiyama is not capable of pulling me off in time.” Sam threatened.
“Principal, are you going to take that!?”
“Yes. Of all the people to antagonize, not him!”
“What?” Jack asked, befuddled.
“Not a problem. Cluedo, anyone? It’s open, now.” Paulina offered, the picture of innocence.
~
Jack really was the saving grace to the whole situation, honestly. Insane luck aside, nobody wanted to pull any social triggers with him around.
Sam because she really didn’t need Danny’s parents to hate her, Ishiyama because Jack was the frontline of a contactable defense in emergencies, Paulina had just mentally checked out, and Wes didn’t want to die by Sam’s hand and Ishiyama’s approval.
“I know I asked about Daniel earlier, but did Jasmine not want to come? Rope, Green, Spa.” Ishiyama prattled off.
Paulina was elbowed not so subtly as the player to the left, pretty much her whole pad at Ishiyama so she didn’t have to ask her to speak again.
“Oh, Jazzy’s out tutoring!”
What? Sam tended to have a pretty good idea of where Jazz was at, given she was backup, and… well...
“I didn’t know Spike was on the tutor list.” Sam prodded.
“Manson, who?” Wes asked, glaring.
“Uhhh. I think it’s Edward? Edward… something. I don’t know what his last name is, actually.”
“Edmund Cox. His parents are like, freaks about Narnia.” Paulina offered, realigning with reality as Ishiyama blatantly cheated off Paulinas notepad in the background.
Nobody said anything for a half beat.
“Why do you know that?” Wes finally bit out.
“Money hides in odd places, and I know many with money.” Paulia said, almost totally tranquil as she gave Sam the stink eye.
She could keep at it, nobody would ever believe her that Sam was rich.
“I dunno that Jazzy tutors any Edmunds… You sure she knows an Edmund?”
Ishiyama cleared her throat, and Wes tossed the dice down to move a few more spaces.
A grand total of two.
“Okay, well, I’m sure Jasmine is helping your son. You know, with his homework.” Wes hissed, trying to kill Sam with his eyes.
“Hell if I know, I’m stuck here with you all.”
Wes deflated as Jack finally made it to the kitchen.
“Green, knife, kitchen!” Jack cheered, pointing at Wes to fork over information.
~
Sam was starting to get the picture of the murder, but something was wrong.
Very wrong.
“You. Scarlett, living room, bat!”
“Nothing! You! Loser! Stop trying to catch me lying!” Paulina screamed, barely restraining herself from throwing the entire notepad at Sam’s skull.
“If he doesn’t have it, and you don’t have it, and SHE doesn’t have it, then who has the god damn-!”
“Peace, children.” Ishiyama warned, clearly not believing that peace would be achieved.
~
“I just find it all odd.” Ishiyama hummed, pressing Jack for answers about Danny.
“Yeah, well… It’s not like he really opens up to us anymore. Me and Mads chalk it up to teenager stuff, but…”
Wes wasn’t even focused on chewing mental glass over the secrets he wasn’t allowed to spill, that’s how fucked up this game of Clue was.
“So we’re just ignoring that nobody can narrow it down to one murderer?” He hissed, inching closer to Ishiyama. “We’re just having a super casual little conversation about the idiots school life?”
Ishiyama finally connected that she was only skating by a shitfit from her captive audience because everyone was in an old western style stalemate, and turned to the board again.
“It is very strange….”
“I give. I fucking give. I give up and I’m looking in the fucking packet and I’m taking the loss.” Paulina ranted, snatching up the little yellow envelope before Ishiyama could protest.
Everyone pretended they weren’t super pissed about it when four cards fell out instead of three.
“We have two murders. Green and Scarlett in the kitchen, with the bat.”
Nobody spoke.
“Well… what’s our next game, then?” Ishiyama asked, slightly strained. Even Jack looked mad at this twist.
~
“Left hand blue.” Wes called, exactly as miserable as the rest of them.
Why twister? Who decided that letting Jack Fenton pick was a good idea?
~
Sam crab shuffled between the apropiate colors for limbs so that her head was closer to Ishiyama’s. Wes gave her an unpleasant look for technically cheating, but remained silent. Taking limb detangling off the option list was lethal.
“Call it.”
“UGH! Right foot green.” Paulina wailed, twisting even worse to make it work.
“You know I can’t. I don’t want to plead with Vlad, and this already isn’t enough. Everyone needs to walk away with perfect opinions so they come to the next one, and how can they do that if the organizer won’t play?”
“What about Vladdie!?” Jack called, getting dangerously close to having to stick his head under Ishiyama’s ass.
“Bullshit.” Sam barked, calling bluff. “Not a damn person would seriously rail at you about it.”
“Yes. They would.”
“Left hand blue.” Paulina called miserably. Jack went stock still as he now had very critical choice about where his center of balance, and thusly his head, was going to start drastically leaning to.
~
“Move, loser!”
“I physically cannot! Get your ass off my back first!”
“Get your thigh off my fucking-”
Jack, having detangled from Ishiyama a bit ago, muttered something about him and his bad decisions.
“Right foot yellow.” Wes informed innocently from the safety of the losers seats, watching as Sam and Paulina tried to break each others spines without falling over.
~
They had a crowd for this lunacy. Wes, so safe and cozy from the chair, was busy imortalizing the event with pictures. Even Ishiyama was openly unamused about her humiliation, trapped under Jack’s massive rear, desperately trying not to get squished by his leg curing back underneath..
Sam didn’t have very appropriate thoughts about the way Paulina was twisted around her, and she really wasn’t trying to be crass about it but god if she could do this in twister then professional level gymnast routines would be a joke for her.
“I think you should like, get tested for joint issues. Before you maybe fuck them up permanently.”
“Suck it, Manson!”
Dash gave an extremely pleased look as the spinner stopped spinning, having taken the damn thing from Wes.
… No.
“Left”
No.
“Hand”
No!!!
“Blue.”
Wes coughed from laughter as all four of them started screaming.
First Ishiyama fell. There was nothing near her that didn’t tangle her worse in Jack’s leg than she already was.
But then Jack, who had to contort into the bridge position just to make it to a blue circle, got a short stocky principal to the leg.
The carnage was immense. You couldn’t see Ishiyama’s head underneath Jack’s ass.
But then, Sam.
Second place wasn’t too bad, she decided as her wrist gave. It just couldn’t do it anymore.
And Paulina, tangled around Sam like she was, came down with her.
Yeowch…
The whole gym cheered, reveling in the chaos.
Paulina stared at the ceiling from beside Sam, expression unintelligable.
“I’m done.” Was all she said, unmoving.
Which, fucking same.
Wes laughed even harder, taking photos of Jack rolling off Ishiyama.
“You can’t stop us from leaving, anymore, Ishiyama. This was it. Nothing can keep me here anymore.” Sam declared, doing her best to detangle from Paulina’s limbs.
“I, too, yield. It was fun while it lasted.” Ishiyama wheezed.
“No. It wasn’t.”
“I think I should go check on Mads and the kids.” Jack decided, not moving from his side despite the declaration.
Wes was still too buy laughing as Sam did a four legged crawl off the twister board.
“You need a ride, kiddo?” Jack offered, still unmoving.
“Absolutely not.”
“I do.” Paulina decided.
But Sam was already heading for the door, trying to erase the whole night from her memories.
Tucker would never let this die once the news broke. Which meant she’d have to kill him even harder than before.
Still, that was a job for tomorrow. Right now? She sword to herself the entire school would burn before she could be coaxed into another charity game night.
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