#why am i doing this to myself? I haven’t eaten in days because im being guilted into giving all my

[jonathanstims]

all of my efforts are fruitless and I waste all my time and energy being damage control for people who don’t love me a sliver of how much I love them 🤷

#like am I just being exploited at this point #I spend so much time and money and energy on these people and I literally have almost no evidence #that they even like talking to me. #I can’t stop because I literally love them more than anything but I’m fucking run to the ground #hopping from person to person giving everything I have away #and only one of them consistently asks me how my fucking day was. what the fuck #why am i doing this to myself? I haven’t eaten in days because im being guilted into giving all my #fuckign food and money away. #isn’t that fuckign crazy? isn’t that wild? #I haven’t EATEN. I haven’t eaten because you take everything from my hands the moment I hold it and I just fucking let you #I’m so hungry and tired and sad and hurt and lonely #can’t someone knock on my door? can’t someone call me to check in? can’t someone offer a hug? can’t someone give any evidence I’m loved? #I really wish I wasn’t here right now.

[starry-hughes]

hi

if u didn’t know, it’s me that all the posts about hate and personal information are talking about.

i’ve been like sick for the last three hours pretty much, overthinking, trying to understand, trying to tell myself it’s okay. i honestly thought i was going insane when i got the anonymous message with my personal information in it, like i had been staring at my computer all day and it was my mind playing tricks on me. but it wasn’t my brain playing tricks on me or some dream i cant wake up from.

for starters, thank you for defending me. i was and still am extremely terrified of the whole thing. i have literally only been talking to a couple of people privately for the last three hours since it happened. i am still iffy about being on tumblr right now and anons are off for at least today.

it started as banter in my opinion about the usa wjc game and i love banter, i think it’s fun to mess around and tease, but i think certain lines are there and boundaries. my boundaries were completely crossed. it literally felt like my personal information was being used as a way to taunt me and scare me.

and i don’t want to accuse anyone of lying, but an anon did reach out to someone else and say that the personal information was from my previous account. but that just isn’t making sense to me which is why it’s continuing to freak me out. my personal information has not been shared on tumblr since 2021, the account this person was referring to has been deactivated for multiple years at this point and i do not interact with anyone from that account or fandom due to past issues. so that just doesn’t seem right to me.

saying that it is at the end of the day, my fault or implying that it’s normal for information to be doxxed on the internet does not make it okay either.

i don’t really know what else to say. i don’t think im going to be active on here for the night or parts of tomorrow, i might pop in tomorrow, i really don’t know. i’m just going to continue to decompress because this is a lot for me to process. i honestly don’t feel safe on here at this time.

i’m going to watch the devils and eat a pb&j before kenz and my boyfriend get upset that i haven’t eaten tonight.

- star ⭐️

[cooganbegs-blog]

Of Ups and Downs.

It was a rollercoaster day today. I’m tired and emotional.

Down - every time I look at SBO and see how frail and skinny he is, how he only eats what I offer him by hand, no chicken anymore just the best raw steak I can find (I’ve never eaten steak like he is being served up on a daily basis! I’ve finally found something to burn my useless salary on!), the constant sobs initiated by his usual head pushed against me waiting for stokes.

Up - I finally feel I added some value to my team! God, I now have three people in my team and my fellow gal pal (marketing manager) gave some some tips and a spreadsheet to help setup my teams individual priorities for next quarter. I emailed it round this morning with direction on how I want us to priorities our work:

- a learning priority: they can chose something they want to learn (a compulsory 10% of their bonus) to encourage curiosity and a growth mindset (an essential trait of a product person)

- a product priority set by me: there is some shit that just needs to get done, that pushes the team forward, advances the product or our processes. Willing to negotiate on the success metrics

- a personal priority - each person can chose a priority they want to work towards, it cants be BAU, it must be something that is a stretch. I will need to approve or negotiate and key results are also negotiable.

All my peeps were happy and I had a light build moment that the single most valuable thing I can do for them is provide what begged all my useless CPO’s for in my previous roles. Give them direction and the why, and they will solve the how! I finally came away after several hours relieved instead of berating myself for being useless! I did have to get tough and negotiate with my PO (new to this role but an excellent BA), she just won’t prioritise learning how to think like a product person. She’s in danger of losing some of her bonus because she just didn’t make time. Will see if she delivers on the compromise I suggested! My new PO/PM is so delightful (if confident!), he talks my language and I don’t have to change his nappy or tell him how to do his job!! So refreshing!

Down - I kind of lost my shit in a meeting! Not hugely but I did let my frustrations show. Explaining that the meeting we were in (and several others I had to sit through) were quite frankly a fucking waste of time until the exec team makes a call on how we segment a customer base. I am not prepared to (its well above my pay grade!) and have provided the necessary data for them to battle it out. The project manager agreed, the meeting was cut short. I immediately regretted my outburst and sent a message to her apologising for letting my frustrations get the better of me. I also owned I probably should have escalated a week or so ago but have been snowed under with a thousand other priorities (roadmaps, product relates plans and annual planning). Gulp. Note to Self: bite my tongue next time and go to her direct not in front of 7 other people.

Up - my work trip to the US was cancelled so I can stay home with Loki!

Down - I haven’t been for a run or been to the gym since I got back. I forgot how fucking brutal the dark, icy morning are here and what a disincentive it is to running. I hate it.

Up - finally got booked in to have my shoulder injected, although I’m absolutely shitting myself.

Down - did I mention just how dark and cold it is.

Up - winter solstice is imminent. Which means the long slow downhill slide into summer….and by summer I mean January next year!!

Down - hearing Loki licking incessantly all night and not knowing what he was doing. Waking this morning and discovering his bed was absolutely saturated with pee and him so distraught and mortified. So much cortisone equals so much extra water drinking equals so much peeing. Only he didn’t get up at all. Im setting my alarm for 3 hour intervals tonight to get him up. He’s definitely an old, old dog now and it breaks my fucking heart. A matter of weeks ago he was shiny, lithe, well muscled and a bundle of cheek. Now he’s gaunt, slow and smells of old dog and urine. Fuck it’s so unfair. I don’t want anything to change, I want to go backwards in time and freeze when he’s young and active and full of beans. The end is closing in faster and faster and there’s no way to stop it. And foolishly I just keep wishing and wishing I could turn back time.

Up - I found a packet on M&M’s in my luggage which I completely forgot about and discovered just when I needed them around 3pm this afternoon!

[emptifylie]

vent lol

i’m so nervous to go on vacation. i was so excited until i fully understood that i’m gonna have to eat food again. like solid food… in my mouth…and i’m gonna have to chew it and swallow it. i know i sound dramatic acting like that’s crazzzyyy but i just can’t imagine it right now. like why the fuck would i want to do that??? and i’m imagining being given greasy potato’s and salad with a copious amount of calories from dressing and oils and all that stupid fucking bullshit. i’m imagining hotdogs and burgers. pasta and cheese. stupid fucking nasty ass cheese with so much fat in it. disgustingly fried eggs on a pan with oil on them. i’m gonna have so much of my control taken away from me for those few days, not even being able to make my own meals. jesus i can’t even fucking sleep my heart is beating out of my chest. i almost cried today when my dad wouldn’t shut up abt how pale i am and how many layers i’m wearing in the summer while my mom kept saying i’ve lost so much weight that she’s worried. i just need them to stop. i don’t want them to worry anymore, i’m past that. i don’t want anyone to care, i don’t want to be asked questions or given worried looks from my parents. i’m not even fucking skinny yet. everyone’s tired of me being this way except me. i fucking love waking up and knowing i still haven’t eaten and stepping on the scale and being thinner each day. i love going to bed hungry. i love being cold and finally feeling like my fat isn’t a 2 ton blanket wrapped around me in the heat. i like that my skin is pale and that i have dark circles under my eyes. i like my cuts and my bruises. i love my sense of control, being able to refuse my favorite foods and not regretting it. i like my heavy eyelids. i like feeling lighter eat day. but everyone else fucking hates it. they all hate it. and i try so hard to hide it, i shove food into socks, plastic water bottles, empty boxes, anything to hide the fact that i’m not eating. they still assume that i’m not. they still somehow know something’s wrong. what the fuck am i gonna do. i don’t want to ruin their vacation. i don’t want to ruin their family dinners. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what im gonna say. im so fucking scared right now. i’m terrified that this will make me fat again, that i’ll lose control and start eating. i can’t purge for shit, i’ll try my best to throw out or hide food when i can but that won’t be possible for every meal especially if i have to “eat” in front of everyone. and i know my parents will be watching to see me take a bite. and i’m gonna have to. i’m gonna have to finish most of it even. if i don’t then i’m making a scene. i don’t even blame them i know they’re just worried but i need them to stop. whatever. i cant fucking sleep and i’m scared. i still have tomorrow to continue fasting and i’m so great full for that. i hope i’m just anxious and my brain is exaggerating how difficult it’s gonna be to throw out food. i just can’t get caught. because then i’m gonna be ruining someone else’s vacation and i don’t want that. i want them all to enjoy themselves and be happy. i want to starve and enjoy myself and be happy. i’m sorry this was so long and i’ve been posting so much i just can’t sleep and i’m anxious and all that!

#tw ana thoughts #ana rules #meanspø #skinnnny #pro 4na #ed bllog #ed vent #4na tw #ana trigger #anar3xia #4n0r3x14 #only pr0 for myself #pro 4 me not 4 thee #not pr0 just for myself #pr0 ana diary #ana vent #4na vent #tw ed vent

[s-omething]

today is january 10 in 2023 and i thought i’d be happy by now.  that i’d feel at home and alive. turns out “home” just feels like some kind of extention of myself: if i’m good, it is good. if i’m not okay, it rots with me.  it isn’t filled with friends, laughs, cries, conversations, connections. no one comes, i sit in silence most of the time, looking at nothing. i have been distant, but at some point i make all efforts i could of reaching out and i guess my heart broke, i dont think friends want anything to do with me tbh.  i cant stop my mind racing on what i might have done wrong, i came up with too many answers without proof.  i thought i’d be less lonely, not more. i believed my dogs would be happier, now it just seems like i ruined their lives with my melancholy.  i buy the food i like but i still dont feel like eating it. i still drink myself to sleep sometimes, and sometimes drinking doesn’t do it either, the anxiety stays there, turns into anger.  i don’t have fun.  i am writing this today because i’m supposed to be learning to read my feelings, understand and accept them and work on communicating them, honestly it just feels like im getting it all wrong ‘cause i take too long to make it make sense and the answer is that im making drama out of small things.  i dont understand that, considering i soothe myself, do not show much emotion, control what comes out and swallow the most of it when i need to talk about it. i try to be practical and direct so they wont have a negative reaction or judgement out of it.  i think im bending to melancholic loneliness again and it’s terrifying. i have to be careful if i get sad because if it wins over me i might not get out of bed or eat or clean, work, pay bills, take my dogs for enough walks and just end up failing.  im not supposed to fail, im supposed to be happy, im home with my dogs and i am free.  am i cursed? why isnt it working? its already been 2 months, i was supposed to be okay. cooking isn’t fun anymore, i just drag myself to do it so i dont starve or get sick. while i cook i just resent myself in the fact that i will have to actually eat it later. it makes me anxious. i dont want to cook anymore.  turns out food will rot if you dont eat it, and i hate wasting food, it makes me anxious as well.  i made everything look the best i could, decorating as id like and now i absolutely hate it, to the point i avoid looking at details too long.  i have this urge to make things disappear if im not using them, it feels like too much, like they are not only standing there in the house, but standing inside my brain occupying space i don’t have. it doesn’t take too long, if i haven’t used something in a week, it starts to haunt me.  it’s been 6 hours. i finally had some bread, i had to, i could not open the bottle because of my weak ass hands.  i should cook real food, i know that, i can’t stop thinking about it.  there’s one meal left in the fridge and then im out, no meal. but i should have eaten it yesterday, its diner time today and i still couldn’t.  being honest here, i dont miss the way things were at all, i absolutely hated it and it was hell. i do miss my friends, i miss having people around, i miss having hope and plans. i daydreamed about what future would look like, now im in that future and everything is real but turns out im still me. maybe ill just never be okay.  it’s not that im not satisfied with my accomplishments, its not its just i got here, yay.. now what? i dont want anything, thinking of wanting something makes me anxious, i dont... want to want anything.  see, if i wanted all of this and i got it and im still a sad piece of shit, what’s the point? contini tastes like my 19th birthday. i drink it and feel the exact same feeling from that april 14th in 2018. i dont want anything from the future, i dont know how to accept help cause it honestly feels like torture, i love my friends but im certain i already lost them, i only listen to one song per day, repetely  thinking of changing into something else, listening to various songs or anything like that makes me want to rip out my skin on overwhelm. should i go back to anti depressants? i hate them, i hate being numb, i hate that they don’t make me happy or sad or angry or anything but empty. i absolutely will not do without orgams.  i kinda wish someone would beat me up so i could focus on something real and not stupid feelings that are just inside my brain yet having the power to paralyze me. i just need to cook some fucking food. maybe you can’t have friends correctly if you have depression, maybe i should just cook tomorrow. 

#ordered mcdonalds

[unearthlychild34]

A Prayer, or On Planting Peaches in the Dark

When I paid for the trees, it was 4pm. It would be dark by 7. Not much time to get them in the ground.

I have a thousand thoughts about the wisdom of this decision. I don’t know anything about peach trees. I don’t know if March is a good time to plant a tree. I planted a persimmon last year, a scraggly thing that was half-dead before I brought it home. It died, eaten by deer in the winter. I have no reason to assume this will be different.

It’s 5:20 when I get home. I started digging before I put away my groceries, desperate to use whatever light is left in the day. I know it won’t be enough. I keep digging.

It’s too easy to rip up the grass. Life is too fragile. My grandmother is sick, her dog is dying, innocents in Gaza are dying. Maybe I’m dying too. Is that why I’m doing this? To regain some sense of control?

The tree won’t come out of the plastic pot. Suddenly there seems something cruel about making a tree grow in a confined pot like this simply for my convenience. I brace it against the ground with my shoe and it pulls free.

The instructions specify well-draining soil. This ground is almost all clay, there is no drainage to be had. I bury it anyway. Now who’s being cruel?

The remaining soil is heavy and doesn’t want to go back onto shovel to fill in the hole. I resort to my hands. Now, I’m up-close and personal with all the half-worms I killed while digging the hole, with this awful soil that seems determined to resist new life. I have nothing else to offer this tree.

It’s now 6pm. I haven’t eaten in 7 hours. Im running out of daylight. The cats puzzle over my odd behaviours tonight. I can offer them nothing but mud-stained jeans and hands for explanation. I can offer myself nothing more, either.

I start on the second hole. It is an honor, a luxury to bury your dead in the midst of war sometimes. How many in Palestine have had their burial be the ceiling that fell down upon their head, rather than a ceremony with dignity? How many loved ones remained unburied because they had no one who loved them left alive to do it?

I keep digging. I can barely see as the darkness encroaches. This peach tree is a different variety, but it desires the same well-drained soil. It is 5 feet away from its sister and is no better off. Ive dug the hole too deep.

Filling in the second tree feels like allegory. Perhaps this is a kind of memorial, a symbolic burial for someone I never met. It isn’t enough. It can never be enough. I can’t do enough. I can’t fix it.

I direct that question skyward as I search for a bucket. Why can’t I do more to fix it? Why is it that I’m here in my yard instead, planting peach trees in the hopes of blessing my mother with their fruit in several years? Is this a good use of my time? What good can these filthy hands that can barely plant a tree do to even help, anyway?

The silence holds a looming answer- do you pray because you want to fix it? Or do you pray because you want Me to fix it?

Isn’t this collaboration, I fire back? Am I not meant to be your hands and feet? And what exactly are you doing about it anyway? What good are you? What good are either of us?

There are no answers. For a moment, I feel a grief even greater than I can comprehend. I don’t know if I imagined it, but I don’t think I did. I do not think it was mine. I toss a half-bucket of water onto both trees and walk away. It’s 6:50 and it’s dark, so dark that the distant floodlights barely show the base of the trees. I cannot see my handiwork.

I sit and stare into the dark for awhile, alone but not alone. I will try to keep an eye on the peach trees, but tonight Ive done all I can. I wish I could have given them better. I wish I could do more. I cannot stop death. But all I can do tonight is give life a home in the ground and pray, pray that it’s enough.

[eurydices-ghost]

i went to my new primary doctor today and they had me fill out 2 depression questionnaires for some reason and so I marked yes to the question that said i think about dying or feel like i would be better off dead most days and the nurse who saw me was like oh I saw you marked some things about depression on your chart well if you feel like you might hurt yourself you can go to the emergency room like Oh Yeah Thanks For That also they fucking weighed me and i gained back all the weight i lost from being sick as fuck and not eating for a month and i feel depressed about DEAD HORSE after feeling like it would be the greatest thing ever i am feeling like it is not very good now and i know that’s just me being depressed and self degrading and overly critical but i really do not feel good about this video game even though i am very proud of it still and idk i just wish i was more successful and popular and like more feminine so the nurse won’t seem so surprised when i tell her i have an endocrinologist because im transitioning i feel like i haven’t made any transition progress and actually I’ve regressed since summer 2022 that was the most feminine I’ve ever felt i think anyway i haven’t eaten anything today which i probably should because that would help my mood but what am i supposed to eat without gaining weight you ever think about that i know i know and maybe gaining weight would make me look more feminine maybe i should gain weight but idk i just kind of hate myself and my body and everything i say do think and create why why why oh btw i am on the wait list for a psychologist and a psychiatrist so hopefully in the next 3-4 months i can start seeing someone oh and the nurse at the doctor said they could probably refer me to someone sooner but i didn’t get the referral yet so idk when that will happen but maybe sooner than 3-4 months which would be nice. Anyway im going to go to the pussy period sephora rouge sale and try to get some concealer to hide my dumb as fuck beard shadow and hope that makes me feel better…………. It probably won’t but whatever BYE

[meat-huge-pain-endless]

huge vent post feel free to ignore✌️

tw just in case tho for depression, anxiety, suicide/suicidal ideation, death, disordered eating, drug use, dissociation, depersonalization, and derealization

i need someone to come put a straight jacket on me i ruin everything i fucking touch i don’t want to be a bother but im desperate to be known so i spill my guts just for them to get trampled. and i really do let everyone walk all over me. i assume that every other human being on the planet knows better than me about everything and i will tolerate literally an treatment so long as you’re a little bit nice to me sometimes, or even if you just tell me that you are ill probably believe you. my self esteem is so fucking low plus i can’t ever rlly tell what’s true anymore. my memory is so fucking bad like the amount of times a day i forget what im saying mid-sentence and then forget what i had just said and then forget what i was even talking about in the first place is genuinely embarassing. it’s so fucking humiliating actually like i am so out of it all of the time and i can never tell if it’s bc im dissociating or bc im dehydrated or bc i didn’t sleep or bc i haven’t eaten or bc i forgot to take my adhd meds or bc i hit the pen at 9:30am again or bc i DIDNT hit the pen but i have brain fog from smoking the night before and at this point it’s probably all of it all the time like it is so bad. ive never been worse in my life i don’t think. again i wouldn’t rlly know. all my memories feel a million miles away. im alone in my dorm room rn bc my roommate and our other friend went to our other other friend’s dorm to hang out. if i think about it too hard ill probably start crying. i was crying before they were even out the door.

everyone told me college is where you meet “your people.” the friends you have for the rest of your life. why do i have about 3 friends total (as in i actually hang out with them outside of classes/club meetings/school events/etc) and why do none of them feel like they’re actually my friends. oh wait actually i know why that is. it’s because i don’t feel like im real when im at college. that’s how i felt last year (like school year, and it was awful btw, thought it was the worst year of my life but then this semester happened and now im not so sure) but it just occurred to me that im feeling the same way except this time i wasn’t so alarmed by it bc i got used to it. like this is baseline college feeling for me. the worst part of it all is that everything is actually all my fault. like for real not sarcasm. my anxiety is so fucking severe and i didn’t realize it at all until recently when i started having more frequent panic attacks. i cry most days. i hyperventilate way too easily. i walk thru the world just going about my everyday life with the anxiety levels of an animal being hunted for sport. like literally if i accidentally do something wrong in public like the smallest tiniest stupidest mistake like pushing on a pull door or something i get so embarrassed it like so very seriously and genuinely the idea of people thinking that im stupid or laughing at me makes me want to die like seriously kill myself dead and i cannot overstate that im so scared of what people thjnk of me all the time.

oh and did i mention i also literally never stop thinking? overanalyzing everything i do and say and everything everyone else does and says to me and im always worried that my friends hate me or secretly think im an awful person or im thinking about things that they might potentially hate me for later down the line and sometimes i try to preemptively circumvent that by randomly being like “hey if i ever [insert thing im worried might potentially make them not like me anymore] just know that it’s not because [reason i think it might make them potentially not like me]” OH and i also all the time will ask my friends if they think im a bad person which is like so insane of me actually like why the fuck do i do that THIS IS WHAT I MEANT AT THE BEGINNING!!!! PUT ME IN A STRAIGHTJACKET CUT OFF MY GODDAMN HANDS JUST PLEASE DO SOMETHJNG because no matter what i fucking do i always end up crawling to SOMEONE to beg them for reassurance or tell them something that will make them worry about me (sometimes im not even aware im doing that one!) because i just need someone to care. i need someone to care about me or else im not real. (i feel like i only exist contextually but i don’t have time to get into all that right now). but then i get embarrassed for needing something. the fact that i have needs and wants and desires is the most embarrassing thing in the world. asking for what i want and need is the most mortifying torturous experience in the world. i hate being vulnerable.

i want to be cared for without judgement. i want to stop feeling like i am hard to like and even harder to love. i want to stop feeling tired all the time. i want to stop feeling miserable all the time. i want to feel like im real, like i actually exist. i don’t want to die, but i don’t want to live either. i think the only thing about death that still scares me is the fact that i would have to go alone. but the idea of infinite nothingness sounds like a dream. it’s so loud in my head all the time. i just want it all to stop.

#im sorry y'all #i just needed to put all of this somewhere that wasn't my brain #anyways #i sincerely hope that you are all doing better than i am right now #i'll b ok eventually tho

[jawdisease]

I don’t know why it hurts so much, maybe it’s just insecurity, maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten a proper meal in weeks, or maybe I’m isolating myself, but my friends don’t really seem to like me. I feel like a burden, like these people don’t want me around but they make themselves do it out of pity for this loser who can’t even get out of bed unless he has something to do. I just sit in bed most of the time, sometimes going outside to sit under a tree in an isolated area, essentially waiting for someone to reach out to me. Now I know that this is a formula for failure. Im aware that this will just lead to a lack of connection and will break my friendships, but there’s this visceral fear that I feel every time I try to reach out to anyone, even with just a “hey what’s up”. I have this obviously irrational fear that if I try to reach out that I’ll annoy them, or that they’ll be expect me to have something to say when the truth is I can’t think of anything. I want to talk to these people but I’ve never been good at interacting even in the best of circumstances and a history of not having anything valuable to contribute has made me afraid of expectations. And so I sit in bed, feeling physical pain in my chest every time I think of my friends doing something without me, enjoying themselves without me, and I know that it’s selfish and I know that it’s dumb but that doesn’t change the fact that it hurts. As someone who was cisgendered, heterosexual, white, and male, I’ve pounded it into my head that there are lines that should not be crossed by me, and that those lines can be anywhere, even if I don’t see it. Now I recently discovered that I am bisexual and I’ve had my concerns about gender, but those fears of doing something that I can’t come back from are still there, making me freeze when I’m asked anything and making me afraid to have an opinion, even if it’s not relevant to the aforementioned topics. I’ve recently moved away from my family for the first time and I’ve been feeling extremely lonely. I’ve never been a very social person so I feel a pressure to not fuck things up with them. Maybe I need to eat better, though that will have to wait until I have money to buy actual food, and maybe I should go outside but there’s not a whole lot to do, especially with the very low energy I have at the moment. If anyone actually sees this, this is my way of coping through any mental struggles I’ve been having. Just being able to puke my thoughts out onto wherever is helpful. I’ve been spiraling pretty badly, especially after I started having trouble eating, but that should change pretty soon after my first paycheck comes in and I can actually eat. This isn’t a post asking for money, again I’ll be fine in a couple days, it’s just nice to throw my mental problems somewhere with the secret dark hope that someone will see them and reach out. Gosh if you’ve made it this far I appreciate you hearing me out I guess, it’s not so bad imagining someone finding this just because it helps me feel heard. No pressure to talk to me though, I know this is a lot and I’m sure that if this pops up on your feed you have your own worries. Just thanks for reading this :)

#mental health problems #I feel so damn lonely #I’m sure it’s just in my head though

[sukirichi]

earned it [06]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. attempted murder and suicide, angst ig i feel nothing at this point because NAOYA 😭

notes. i’m rolling with the earned it jokes that reader is shippable with everyone so HAH enjoy this chapter because I didn’t enjoy the last LMAO (IM SO EXCITED FOR TOJI TO APPEAR!)

series masterlist

Your muscles throbbed, the pounding of your heart felt even through your skin. You’ve spent hours in the training room, taking punch by punch, landing blow by blow – yet no matter how hard you tried, you kept falling on your ass. At this point, your backside was beyond sore, skin drenched with sweat and clothes sticking uncomfortably to the surface. Meanwhile, your ‘savior’ barely felt the need to catch his breath, instead gazing down at you with disappointment written all over his face.

“Why do you expect so much from me?” you panted, fists clenched on the mat. “Didn’t you tell me you just needed me to get your money back and that’s it? I didn’t ask for you to do anything so stop telling me I’m indebted to you all the time.”

Naoya clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed by your lack of resolve. Above you, he swept up his cane and finally balanced himself. You previously thought he didn’t struggle because he looked so calm and composed, easily overpowering you even with his injury, but his lips were strained, jaw clenched tight that perhaps he was just good at concealing his pain. It made you shut up and watch his every move; his back faced you – probably to hide whatever fleeting moment of vulnerability he had.

“I won’t always be there to save your sorry life,” he said calmly, “You need to learn how to be strong on your own no matter how tough it gets. Now if you’ll keep complaining instead of finishing your training, I could happily lock you up and force you to do my dirty work for me.”

“Then why don’t you go ahead?!”

“I don’t want to,” Naoya responded without missing a beat. He easily closed the distance with a few staggered steps, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed you.

You wondered what went through his mind. Did he see a weak woman? A woman who must be so helpless, so useless that you stayed there, legs too tired and muscles aching too much you couldn’t move? There was no telling with Naoya, and his guarded gaze didn’t help either. Satoru had always been difficult to read at most, but with Naoya – it was practically impossible.

Even as he cupped your chin and twisted it sideways, his eyes narrowed over all your features like he saw something you didn’t, he was too guarded.

“I need you in taking down Gojo Satoru. In order to accomplish that, I have to use his weakness against him. You showing up won’t be enough. No, I want to hurt him…and what better way than to take what was once his, right? Dangle right in front of his eyes what he let go of, make him regret his actions?” his smile turned dark, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you got a glance of what his heart really looked like.

It wasn’t true that Naoya was heartless – no, he just had a dark, sinister heart that didn’t beat the same tune as others. He played his own music with the bones of his enemies, drinking their lifeline from a gold cup and drowning in them, his ominous laughter the perfect antithetical melody of what could’ve been angelic hums.

“Don’t you want that?”

His question made your heart skipped a beat. This whole time, you’ve been so hell bent on achieving something, but what you wanted to reach had never been clear. You were too driven by emotions, by the pain Satoru’s absence had caused, and now that the opportunity was presented before you, you faltered.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, if you ask me what I want…” he tilts your chin up with his finger “It would be to see you strong enough that even you would be capable of taking me down. So be strong, keep fighting – I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You only have one job, and that is to live. I am not allowing you to give up at the slightest of minor inconveniences.”

“And if I get weak?” you questioned with an oscillating tremor, the bite of his cold skin against your heated ones spiking. “If I want to give up? Would I fail you then?”

“I don’t think you’re someone who cares about failing others, so don’t fret whether you’d please me or not,” Just like that, Naoya’s scornful tone had risen again. He let go of you until you dropped down to your palms, blinking back at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Like I said, just do what you need to do, keep going. Don’t look back or be afraid to take the next big step because I’ll always be there right beside you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking you to, princess,” he snickered, already half way to the door that only he was allowed to go in. Even though you’ve been staying in his manor for quite some time, there were still some things Naoya didn’t trust you with, leaving you only more curious to find out the secrets within.

“Only time will tell. But once you’ve made your decision, know that my ring is always waiting beside your table,” his voice echoed through the large room, stopping in his tracks to look at you once more. This time, he had no haunting features, only the cold emptiness likened to staring back to an infinite void of nothingness.

“I expect an answer when I get home.”

You still remembered the day you decided to wear his ring. Naoya had come then, tired and aggravated from matters he didn’t bother explaining. You stood on his doorway, lips shut tight as you nervously fiddled with your ring, unsure if whether you should tell him or allow him to piece the puzzle himself.

Thankfully, Naoya was a lot more observant than you gave him credit for.

His eyes slid over your face before he followed the motion of your fingers, smirking as the jewel glinted under the bright lights of his home. Wise choice, he’d once told you, and you believed it.

Your life hadn’t been the same ever since. Your spontaneous marriage equated to hellish training of perfecting your image as his trophy wife, spending hours in his secret laboratory and discussing business plans through a glass of wine. Naoya wasn’t around much to teach you everything and it pained him to be your own trainer too so you had to ask help from his guards, refusing to give up and fall down even as your muscles screamed at you to take a break. For Naoya, with Naoya, giving up and running away felt like a myth; a buried solution in the past that should never be brought up again. But now that he was gone, you did exactly that.

You’d given up. Satoru had made you run away.

“Miss,” a deep voice cut you from your thoughts. You tore your gaze away from the  glowing night city of Milan to turn to Satoru’s right hand man, the tall figure looming rather shyly instead of imposingly. “You haven’t eaten since we got here. Would you like anything? Mr. Gojo will cover your expenses.”

“I want to go home.”

He froze at your deadpan statement. Finally meeting your gaze under his lashes, Geto pursed his lips. “You know we can’t do that, Miss. It’s unsafe back in Japan.”

“And who’s to say Toji won’t follow us here?” you snapped, pushing your weight off the Cleopatra set and uncrossing your legs. “Why can’t your stupid boss just activate the account and give it back to us? I think we’ve made it clear we’re more than capable of handling our finances, and I’m pretty sure Satoru doesn’t need any more money when he can afford all this.”

“Mr. Gojo…has his reasons for everything he does.”

You laughed bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that Satoru had left this morning for whatever business he had that you didn’t have anyone else to let your anger out to that you’d swiped your gun under your thigh holster and dashed his way.

Geto’s back slammed against the wall, the cool barrel of your gun pressed to his jaw. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting to your weapon, and you laughed heartlessly. “Oh, please, do tell because nothing makes sense,” you crooned, flipping the safety off and letting your heated gaze meet his rather docile ones. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“I could easily put a bullet through your head and hijack his plane. I’ll be gone before you know it and who’s to stop me from doing that? Why should I stay here any longer with you?”

“Because your husband asked you to,” Geto responded softly. You stepped back with wide eyes, yesterday’s event crashing all over you once again. He must’ve sensed you no longer held any hostility because he used his pointer finger to move the barrel away from him, gently peeling your hands off his suit. “Because you know, if you go back to Japan, there will be nothing waiting for you there.”

You balled your fists. “I will kill Fushiguro Toji myself. Then I’ll kill Satoru.”

“Even if he used to be your lover?”

“Especially because he used to be my lover.”

Okay…maybe your plan of escaping and returning to Japan hadn’t worked out that well. Exhaustion finally crept up to your senses that you passed out not long after attacking Geto – who reassured you to no end he wasn’t mad you tried to kill him – and days have passed ever since. You hated to admit it, but being stuck in an overseas hotel wasn’t so bad. Geto’s presence was a lot more comforting than his master’s that you didn’t mind having him watch your every move. Plus, he was really nice to immediately follow your every whim. You wanted hot chocolate? Extra pillows? A really expensive wine that you refused to pay for because you were petty and dramatic? He provided it all without question.

Except he probably should have, because you’d stripped off to your underwear, head tipped back to take one final swig of the nearly empty bottle as you slid deeper into the tub.

Your fiery nature of rolling your eyes at Satoru every time he came around (which was rare, for some reason) couldn’t fool anyone – not even yourself. The moment Geto retired to the living room, you would bite the pillows to muffle your cries, thinking back to when Naoya was still alive. It was an endless torment of what if you had stayed, what if you had pushed the rubble off him, what if you just saved him?

Would he still be alive? Would he have survived? Would you be back with him in the Zen’in Estate instead of holding your breath under the tub in a desperate attempt to conceal your tears?

It hurt so bad. It hurt everywhere.

Your lungs begged you to rise up and breathe, but you stayed still under the water, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the tub’s edges so hard your knuckles turned white. Soon, you grew dizzy and your grip slipped away. Finally, fucking finally, you were falling, falling way too deep that your legs bent inside the tub. Bubbles erupted from your lips in one last breath. At the back of your mind, you let out a sincere laugh for you’d meet your husband soon. He’d be disappointed, probably scold you all the way to the afterlife – until strong arms pulled you out of the tub and into someone’s chest instead.

“Shit, what are you doing?! You could’ve drowned!”

You coughed out water and fisted Satoru’s button-up shirt that had now clung to his skin from the water. Looking around you, you were still very much alive, the uncomfortable twisting of your heart a painful reminder of that. Above you, Satoru sat you in his lap while he remained cross-legged on the floor, muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped a towel around you.

Scoffing, you pushed his hands away, though you kept the towel anyway to lessen your shivering. Why the fuck was the AC so damn strong here?

“Dying seems like a better option, don’t you think?” you snarled at him, teeth chattering from the chill that had begin to seep in.

Momentarily, you worried on how much of a hot mess you probably looked like. Smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, unbrushed hair and remnants of the wine mixing with the once clear bath water – you shook your head at the thought and glared at Satoru.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I was out contacting friends to ask for help. We’re going to need a hundred pairs of eyes watching anywhere that Toji could possibly come through.”

“Is this your pathetic idea of ‘keeping me safe’? Locking me up in this stupid hotel and having your man watch me all the time?” you pushed yourself off him, the sudden motion of standing up giving you wobbly legs. Satoru reached over to steady you but you slapped his hand away, your glare warning him to not take another step.

Seeing his face, seeing him worried as if he didn’t just cause your life to turn into absolute hell, you wanted to grab the wine bottle and smash it right at his pretty face. He had no right to look at you with pity.

You hated him, utterly and terribly despised this man with your entire being.

“What are you really planning, Satoru? Why can’t we just come back home and attack Toji with all we’ve got? Why don’t you just give back our fucking money so we can end all this for once and for all and I can leave?!”

“Because I don’t have the money!”

“What?”

“The money…” Satoru’s back slid off the wall, his palm coming up to thread through his hair. He sounded weak, defeated. “I don’t have it.”

“Gojo,” you snatched him by the collar, teeth bared as you demanded, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

Satoru paled. “When I stole the money from the Zen’ins, the figures were all fake. They’re not real, there’s no actual money hidden behind their accounts and it was too late before I realized that,” his lips trembled as he continued, “Whatever Toji placed in there, it’s not his actual account where he hides everything and it would make sense too because I stole it too easily – almost as if they wanted me to take it. A few hacks here and there and it was immediately wired to me but after meeting you…” Satoru shook his head, chin dropped down low. “I checked again and the account never existed. It’s a fake one. The digits are just there for show.”

“So then why would Toji want it? Why did my husband have to die for nothing?!”

“I don’t know, okay, I don’t know anything!” he argued back until your faces grew closer, his nose brushing with yours.

Somehow, you couldn’t pull away. His knees had drawn up, forcing you to rest on his thighs as you both breathed heavily, your grip on his collar almost havered.

“Whatever the Zen’ins are hiding, that’s beyond me. I may be in the business for far longer than they have, but they have always been notorious with their possessions that I’m not surprised even I can’t find where it really leads back to. Whatever Toji is hiding there, your husband must’ve known something about it. Why else would they fight tooth and bone over it?”

“If there was, Naoya would’ve told me about it.”

“He would if he trusted you,” Satoru suddenly grabbed your wrist and shook it until you stared at your ring. “How are you even so sure he could trust you with that information? Have you forgotten you’re just a pawn to his game and you’re nothing but a bed warmer?”

“Don’t you ever speak about us that way. You don’t know how much he cared for me.”

“If he really did, then why didn’t he tell you why his cousin is after you? He’s using you as bait, Y/N. I’m not the bad guy here. That man you’re so deeply in love with? I can’t guarantee he’s better than me. We’re all men in the mafia, love is the last thing we would care about.”

You pushed yourself off him.

His words stung too much, not because it was a lie, but because you know there was some sort of truth ringing behind it. You trudged out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, unstirred by the fact you dripped all over the carpeted floor. From behind you, Satoru’s rushed footsteps echoed, but you didn’t care. You simply threw on a robe with your back turned to him.

“And you’d know that better than everyone right? Considering how easy it was for you to leave me?” When Satoru didn’t respond, you chuckled humorlessly and sat on the bed. “What Naoya and I had…it was a friendship that healed my soul. I don’t…I don’t know what to do without him.”

“Friendship?”

You smiled sadly. “I wasn’t actually in love with him, idiot. Men like Naoya don’t know what love is, but he sure does know how to protect family.”

The notion of talking about him, of accepting that maybe he really was gone…somewhat reliving.

Satoru was the last person you wanted to talk to your late husband about, but Geto – which is the much better company – wasn’t around, and you hugged your knees to yourself, refusing to let Satoru see through your vulnerability.

“You know, I trusted him more than I did myself. He was always there for me, no matter what. His soul was dark, angry, corrupted – he’s not the man I would fall for, but despite all that, he was the friend I needed,” you buried your face in your knees, voice muffled as you cried, your heart shattering again and again and again.

The ring on your finger had never felt so heavy ever since you wore it.

“I loved him as much as I hated you.”

Satoru was silent, so much so that you wondered if he was even in the same room at all. You sat there crying, too hopeless to even try to conceal it anymore. Shivering, you close your eyes and forced the image of Naoya’s last moments away from your memories, desperately praying to whoever had mercy that you could just forget all about it.

“Geto told me you tried to kill him,” Satoru murmured after a beat, “You could’ve easily escaped and went back to Japan if you wanted to, so why didn’t you? Was it because of me?”

You remembered what you tried to do today.

Just like that, Naoya was alive once more. You were brought back to the day of your wedding when he’d clasped your sweaty, clammy hands in his, rubbing some warmth in them before pressing a kiss at the top of your knuckles. He’d asked you to promise him something then – an entire contrast from his constants orders over your well-being – and it was a promise you’d momentarily forgotten; a promise you’d broken out of mourning.

“Naoya once told me,” you reminisced through dry, cracked lips and even more shattered heart, the picture of his disappointment as clear as day. “Death was the only place he can go where he would never allow me to follow.”

It took a lot, but it somehow got better. After allowing yourself a faint moment of weakness where Naoya resurfaced in your mind to remind you of our promise and your purpose, you felt stronger, somewhat steadier with each step you took. You were still wary around Satoru, although that was a given.

His friend, Geto, was really nice, on the other hand, and you couldn’t explain why you always lowered your guard around the formal dark-haired assistant.

You and Geto were playing chess when Satoru barged in out of nowhere, a plate and a syrup condenser on his hand. “So I got you breakfast,” was his greeting, nodding at Geto once as a silent order to give you two privacy. You pouted as the latter left, but soon your attention had been diverted to the heavenly aroma filling in your senses. Seeing your approval, Satoru hid a smile behind his dark sunglasses. “Still like pancakes?”

“Trying to get into my good graces now?”

“I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes but snatched the plate from him anyway. “So I talked to my lawyer,” you begun, pouring syrup all over the fluffy bread until it was almost spilling to the sides. Beside you, Satoru’s snickers were barely muffled, to which you ignored wholeheartedly. “They’ve already processed my inheritance over Naoya’s possessions and assets. Once we return to Japan, I’ll be the next leader of the Zen’in Clan, much to the disappointment of his elders, of course, but they can’t do anything about it,” you informed him with your fork hanging in mid-air, the words falling thickly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That we’re back to being enemies?”

You offered him a sarcastic smile. “Naoya lied about strengthening his alliance with your family. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about you.”

“I figured that much,” he snickered to himself, shifting his weight until his elbows rested on his thighs. “Listen…a friend of mine is flying to Milan tonight to meet us. They have strong connections with banks all over the world and they brought in some information about that hidden Zen’in account. I think we’re finally getting off to somewhere and finding out what really is in there,” Satoru gauged for your reaction, but you kept eating – more like stuffing the pancakes inside your mouth for you were finally free of having to act perfect without your husband.

Satoru’s hand landed on top of yours. “I promise…I’ll give it back to right where it belongs. As soon as it’s wired back to you, I’m setting you free.”

You stared at the unwanted figure over you, and you snatched your hand back, waving a bread knife below his lashes. “You can’t set me free when I was never yours,” you sang breathily, the tip of the blade hovered right at his lips. Satoru raised a brow at you, but you quickly retrieved the knife back with widened eyes. “Now that you mention it…I think Naoya told me something about his family stashing secret weapons and even heirlooms through offshore accounts and buried under islands. He was a little sleepy during that time but I remember it,” pushing the plate away from you as you lost your appetite, you clutched your palms under your chin in thought. “He said he was looking for something he lost as a child, possibly an heirloom.”

“He’s doing all this for heirlooms?” Satoru immediately coughed his words back when you glared at him, raising his hands in surrender. “I mean, I was just saying. I didn’t think he was a sentimental type of guy.”

“The question here is what both Toji and Naoya could’ve both wanted from that account. It’s not just an heirloom, obviously there’s something there worth more than money,” You argued and slapped your knees, heading straight to your (unfortunately) shared room. “Whatever. I’ll get this over with as soon as I get the money back.”

Satoru, as always, was hot on your heels. It annoyed you how he trailed over you like some sort of puppy or shadow – Naoya had always been too classy to not give you space.

The difference between them just kept getting more and more uncannily obvious.

“Whoa there, stop. Did you really think I’d give back the money to you and that’s it? Are you forgetting the fact Toji is out there to kill you just so he can have his hands on it?”

“He can have the money for all I fucking care,” you shrugged and sat on your bed, scrolling through numerous piles of emails and records that Naoya entrusted you to keep. Surely you could find something. “I just need to find whatever Naoya’s spent his whole life killing for.”

“Why don’t you care about the money? Didn’t Naoya expect you to take over his business?”

Your thumb froze over a file. Suddenly, your throat grew dry, and you quickly flashed Satoru a stinky eye. “I-it’s not my main concern.”

“It’s not safe for you. If Toji finds out—”

Got it. You bookmarked an email Naoya had forwarded you around three years ago and resent it to an old friend, pocketing the phone back to your pyjamas before Satoru could see. “I’ll handle it. I’ve been doing well so far before you came into our lives again,” you finalized, stopping for a bit as you waited for that all-too familiar footfall matching with yours, only for the room to be coated in silence.

Satoru stood there on the other side of the room, eyes deep in thought before he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant tonight. We have a lot to discuss on what our next move should be,” nodding once, Satoru left the room.

The hotel room was eerily silent.

Dinner came around faster than you expected. With Geto out to run some errands for Satoru, something about ‘establishing bases’ or whatever, you were locked in your room, using Naoya’s black card to get enough amount of clothing to last you for your stay here. Even though Satoru had promised he’d take care of everything, you didn’t want to be in his debt for any longer. You weren’t his, you were Naoya’s, and you shot down his curious looks when heaps of shopping bags had been delivered to your door.

An hour later, you left the room, struggling to zipper the back of your dress. Satoru was already in the living room buttoning up his suit jacket, just as handsome as ever (though you’d never tell him that.)

His hands froze in the last button once his eyes landed on you, and you huffed at him, too distressed to even act cute or bothered while pointing to your dress. Satoru strode to you in three long steps, his cold fingers brushing against the dip of your spine when he clutched on the zipper.

You had to bite your lip down to prevent the shivers from spilling through, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, “You look great.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

If Satoru was bothered by the lack of sincerity in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. He removed his hands from you and watched as you slipped black velvet gloves through your arms – just in case you had to end up killing someone; leaving fingerprints was a risk you couldn’t take.

“Did you really get dressed to kill?”

“I came here to negotiate,” you corrected, “I’ll do everything I can to find out whatever’s behind that offshore account. And you, sir,” Frowning at him, you pulled Satoru closer by the tie, perhaps a little too harshly since he nearly knocked his head with yours. He was quick to steady himself as you fixed his tie, flattening it down with your fingers. “You need to know where you should stick your nose in. This is more my business than yours so don’t get in my way acting all hero and shit. I assure you I can handle myself.”

“You’re really going to berate me for worrying about you?”

“You can no longer worry about me,” you disclosed, snatching your black purse from the counter before doing the come hither motion at his shock-still figure. “Now let’s go. We have a case to crack.”

“Case to crack? You sure sound like a detective.”

You snickered, but made no further comment. The elevators dinged and you arrived at the restaurant, which you really regretted not visiting soon enough because the place was grand. Red carpeted floors, golden chandeliers, soft jazz music playing in the background as the lights dimmed down low, the faint clinking of utensils against plates and light chatter of the guests so heartbreakingly nostalgic.

It seemed that even after his death, Naoya had every intention to never leave your side. The setting reminded you too much of your never-ending late night fancy dinners.

Naoya being Naoya, he didn’t blink twice in flaunting his money and renting out entire restaurants all for himself, claiming that he just ‘wanted to have an intimate moment with his wife.’ Sure, it mostly consisted of you discussing what move you should make next, but it was the most affectionate gesture you’ve received after spending years in the quiet and cold environment of the Zen’in Estate.

The outside world wasn’t any better when you and Naoya were marked as targets by the entire government, so it made sense, that only with him that you’d find comfort in.

You must be so out of it you never even noticed Satoru leading you to your seat, a warm meal that should’ve been comforting right under your nose. It was too much – too similar that you headed straight for the wine, ignoring Satoru’s questioning gaze. You noticed from the corner of his eye that he opened his mouth too many times in an attempt to make light conversation, but this dinner wasn’t for you to rekindle your old flame.

No, you were here to wait for his ‘friend’ and review important matters. You were determined to fulfill that purpose alone and only that alone that you never once made eye contact with him, even standing up to reach the salt shaker near him instead of asking him to pass it.

Just as you leaned back to your seat, the music grew louder. A foreign man walked to the stage where he was basked in the spotlight, all heads turning to him when he tapped the microphone, sending little echoes all over the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s loosen up tonight with a drink and bring our lovers out here on the dance floor,” he sang while swaying side to side, snapping his fingers to the beat that had turned into calming to sensual. “It is a fine evening, isn’t it? Come on, don’t be shy, the night is still so young!”

You dropped your fork beside the plate. “Did you know about this?”

“I swear, I had no idea.”

“Those two attractive lovers in table 42, the dance floor is still much too spacious!”

“Pretty vulgar for a five star hotel,” you commented under your breath and dabbed the pasta sauce off your lips with a napkin, slapping it down the table as you stood up – much to Satoru’s surprise who’d tried to make himself invisible from the host’s eyes. Stupid him; did he really think he could blend in with his sunglasses and snow white hair?

If you were to be honest, you’d rather choke on shrimp than dance with him, but you had an image to upkeep. If you couldn’t gather with the crowd and pretend to be one with others, both your true natures would be fished out even with innocent eyes. You were left with no choice but to be comfortable in the dance floor, sighing deeply as you placed your hands down on Satoru’s wide shoulders. He furrowed his brows at you but said nothing else; strong, cautious hands sliding down from your back before they settled at the curve of your hips.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister. I won’t hesitate to stab a fork through your jugular right here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re not my little angel anymore.”

Angel. It was what he used to call you back then – when you were still but an innocent, naïve being who never believed in monsters until you fell for one.

He was right; you were no longer his angel. The woman he loved had been left abandoned in the street, the purity of her soul tainted with anger and heartbreak that soon bathed in blood and the need for revenge. His angel was no more – the woman he danced with was nothing but a replica of the face and body he adored the most. Now, you danced with him, not as his angel and neither as his rival’s wife, but simply as a woman whose kindness had long vanished into thin air.

Satoru danced with the devil.

And he should be disgusted just as you should be repulsed with how sickeningly smooth and graceful he was in everything he did, but the wine – yes, it was the fucking wine – messed with you that you actually enjoyed it. Your bodies moved in rhythm and syncopated with the beat, the romantic high notes of the violin and the tender embrace of deep trebles like a classical painting coming to life and you were its subjects to be expressed.

Perhaps…you were just sad. You grieved and mourned too much you’d momentarily forgot what love was, in turn making you forget what it felt like to be constantly unsafe and peeking over your shoulder in case someone tried to kill you.

Satoru just felt so warm, so safe and alive that you found your head dipping lower, your muscles relaxing around his soothing and undeniably tender touch, the space between your bodies diminishing until you surrendered to the power of your desire. You were so close, your ear about to press on his chest to listen to the blissful sound of someone’s reassuring heartbeat along with the music, and then you saw him.

A tuft of blonde hair, a chiseled face, a nude cream suit and a deep blue shirt beneath – what the fuck was he doing here?

The spell was broken in an instant.

Satoru must’ve been under the same trance for his hand trailed lower to pull you closer, your chests grazing with one another before you placed your palm flat on his body, lips thinned into a grim look that resonated with the sick, twisting feeling in your guts.

“I,” you croaked out, clearing your throat when it went dry. “I need to go to the ladies.”

You left Satoru without another word, bunching your dress up to run to where he had disappeared. He was still walking coolly and inspecting the paintings hung in the empty lobby with faux interest – although knowing him, the bastard probably did enjoy classical pieces and studied about them in his free time; which he didn’t have much to begin with.

As if sensing your presence, he stopped right in front of a replica of The Sleeping Venus, his hands dug deep in his pockets. “The shape of being is the visual demonstration of a state of being in which idealized existence is suspended in immutable slow-breathing harmony. All the sensuality has been distilled off from this sensuous presence, and all incitement; Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself,” he narrates in his baritone voice, “A little cordial, is it not?”

You took your gun out from your thigh holster and lowered it right at the back of his skull. “Don’t move another inch.”

“No need to be so hostile in a public setting, Y/N. I’m only here to look out for you and making sure you’re not forgetting who you are. Killing me isn’t part of the plan.”

“Neither was murdering my husband,” you growled, pushing the barrel harder against him, though the man didn’t budge before you. “I know that it wasn’t Toji who set off the bomb, Kento, you did.”

“We simply saw an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. Two notorious mafia leaders in an unsuspecting supposed safe environment?” The fact he didn’t even deny it left you speechless. Kento spun around until your gun rested between his eyes, and he languidly pushed his glasses up his high nose as he looked down on you. “We could’ve killed two birds with one stone had you not been in the way.”

“You guys are out to kill me too now?”

“Don’t act too surprised. The Organization isn’t patient enough to wait for both leaders to die.”

“So you killed my husband?!” you argued, “He was my friend, I told you not to touch him!”

“Only in the exchange that you hand him to us,” Kento echoed, jogging your memory until you were kept up to date. “But it’s been five years and what has happened so far? You’re fraternizing with the enemy and even manufacturing drugs for your so-called husband. Now that he’s dead, you’re here in Italy, looking as stunning as ever as you wine and dine with a former lover,” Kento tilted his head to the side to study your appearance – smiling at how you seemed too bright and fashionable for a woman in supposed mourning.

“I hardly believe you’re actually affected by this at all.”

“How dare you! I’ve proven to no end my loyalty of the higher-ups!”

Kento didn’t bat an eye at your outburst. If anything, he stepped closer to your weapon. “Kill me if you wish, Y/N, but know the moment you put a bullet in my head, the Organization will place you on the same pedestal as Naoya’s and Gojo’s. I wouldn’t recommend such methods considering we’re already at unease on whose side you’re really on. If you do this, you will be our enemy.”

“I did everything for the Organization. What else would you want from me?”

“The contract was easy. We want both leaders – whether dead or alive – in our custody. If you don’t hold your side of the deal, it’s not only your life that we’ll take from you,” Kento pulled out a red coin that made your heart sink deep into your stomach for it served as a threat over the consequences of your actions.

He lowered your gun with the coin and smirked at you, his lips right beside the shell of your ear as he purred, “I suggest you be careful with what step of action you take next.”

“Oi, Nanami, you’re here!” Satoru’s voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Nanami was as unbothered as ever from taking a step away from you, nodding to your gun which you quickly concealed right before Satoru arrived. You were frozen – rendered immobile with the flashing red metal from his palm – that you couldn’t even protest against Satoru wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I see you’ve met Mrs. Zen’in already.”

“Hmm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” taking your hand in his, Kento’s eyes were nothing but eerie as he kissed your knuckles. “Shall we start our discussion?”

SUKI RANTS! Nanami quoted Sydney Joseph Friedberg (an art critic) in one of his dialogues. A little backstory on the painting was that the portrait was originally made by Giorgone, who had a student and also his lover (if I’m not mistaken) called Titian. Giorgone never finished the portrait because he died from the plague but Titiane finished it for him, symbolizing that Y/N still has a mission that connected her from Naoya even after his death and she has to finish something he started. The portrait is of a nude woman that symbolized oneness of nature and that the woman isn’t posed for the gaze of men, but rather they are dreaming, hence the quote: “Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself.” Nanami said the painting’s meaning resonated with Y/N’s situation too much since she wasn’t in love with Naoya, but she had a recollection of their moments that still represented their relationship, and that Naoya’s dream (goals) are also shared by Reader. I was gonna ask you guys what your theories are on that scene but I think this makes me sound cooler if I explain it so *lip bite emoji because I’m still broken over Naoya’s death*

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

@sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant​ @mikiminaccch​ @riri-marley​ | bolded users cannot be tagged

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo-satoru-x-reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen series #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo satoru series #gojo x reader angst #gojo x reader romance #gojo x reader imagines #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru x reader series #gojo x reader series #gojo satoru x reader imagines #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x you #sukirichi: earned it

[monsterenergysimp]

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader 

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you 

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.  

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

    shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

    i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

    NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats  super cool actually

    i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and       youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

    [link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

     No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

     I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?  

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

    xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband x y/n #youtubers #caffeinated ramblings

[i-am-my-own-goal]

Being stressed, but not feeling anxious is a weird feeling.

I am still a thread away from my breaking point, but I don’t feel tense. I don’t know how to explain it.

I think I had a good week despite the stress, but in the quiet moments the depression comes out and I feel angry with myself. Why am I crying?

I just feel disregulated. And I don’t know how to fix that. I can’t pause life to get myself back together.

I miss routine. And I haven’t been able to find routine since Covid.

Changes in my plans are becoming more intense. I cried tonight because the plan was chicken Angel hair pasta. And I forgot to separate the chicken so I had to thaw the whole pack. And then we had to go to M’s mom’s house, so my plans of eating dinner with him changed. So trivial. I was able to remind myself that this won’t even matter tomorrow, but it didn’t stop the tears.

And there’s a lot of triggers when we eat there. Triggers around food and finances. They’re all skinny and I’m not. I feel big. His mom is not a big spender. A sandwich is one piece of bread folded in half, half a slice of cheese and half a slice of meat. I feel like a hog wanting a full sandwich with a full piece of cheese and a couple pieces of meat. I feel like if I eat that I’m being rude and spending her money when she so carefully makes sure to make food last. I come home hungry every time we eat there which again triggers me because why am I the only one still hungry?

I didn’t eat much today because my brain decided that today I had to work for my food. But I didn’t do enough cleaning. And then I fell asleep because I hadn’t eaten or drank all day. I was looking forward to dinner.

Came home and ended up overeating while M was in the shower to compensate.

His mom has offered to help with wedding decorations but has changed my centerpiece entirely. I wanted a wine bottle with flowers, a lantern, and a succulent on a wooden circle.

She says that’s all too expensive (even tho it’s MY money). She is making the lanterns out of milk cartons (the DIY video looked cool but idk), making little flower pots with colorful flowers (when I don’t want a buncha colors. I want wood and greenery), and wants to nix the wine bottles all together because they’ll be too tall for a centerpiece.

And I tried to stand up for myself. And the conversation ended. And I can’t do decorations on my own. I’m so overwhelmed by the whole idea. I just wanted the centerpieces and the ceremony times to be specially what I was thinking of. Idc about the rest of the decorations.

And trying to figure out wedding dresses. Our schedules all clash and I just want it to be me and my mom now especially after tonight. What if she doesn’t agree with the dress I choose? Is she gonna just walk out, not talk for the rest of the time? Tell me it’s too expensive or get me to try cheaper ones I don’t like?

It’s all such trivial stuff. It’s all overwhelming me nonetheless. I don’t wanna have a wedding anymore. Not of this process is fun anymore.

M is telling me I have to have ideas made up about decorations now and I feel like I’ve just barely even started thinking about it and all my ideas are being destroyed.

And I feel so selfish and stupid for being stressed over this stuff. But I’m stressed about work and my car too. Planning a wedding is triggering me so much. Im having dreams almost weekly again about my ex. And I just want it to stop.

I just want my brain to be normal. Normal stress. No stupid triggers. Everything not snowballing into one mess of meltdown.

#marrying m #ptsd #anxiety

[shig-a-shig-ah]

im backkkkkk!:-) can i request some soft shiggy comforting his s/o because she’s not feeling well? he doesn’t realize it at first and is oblivious to her distance and then realizes and feels bad so he tries to make her feel better with video games, cuddles, and maybe some sexy times ;-) [i cringe at myself im so bad at making requests lol] if not i understand:-)

Haha this is a perfect request! I don’t mind specifics, and I am forever weak for soft Shig requests.

I went more of a mental health route with this one, rather than physically not feeling well, because sick sexy times sound less fun, and also I’ve had a rough month and want to project lol.  Sexy times are strictly implied here tho, no NSFW stuff. 

» pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader

» wc: 763

Tomura prides himself on being perceptive. On reading people well and being constantly attuned to his surroundings, always ready to react without hesitation the moment it’s necessary.

So, it’s an unfamiliar and disorienting kind of panic that strikes him when he realizes you’re not in the bar with him, and that you haven’t been all morning. You’re always there—a quiet presence even when he’s working, and one he appreciates—but here it is, well past noon, and somehow he’s only just now noticing your absence.

He’s been busier than usual lately, but he doesn’t let himself dwell on that excuse, only starts thinking back over the past couple of days, scratching at his neck as he realizes it’s not only this morning that’s been unusual. You’d gone to bed early the night before, almost immediately after dinner, and hadn’t eaten much then. Hadn’t eaten much in the last couple of days actually, or been quite as talkative, and he hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. But now…

He rises abruptly, and goes to look for you.

When he finds the door to your room closed, he doesn’t bother knocking. Simply lets himself inside, his stomach twisting uneasily when he sees the light is off and you’re still in bed, the comforter clutched tightly around you.

You’re awake, though—you stir when you hear him come in, glancing at the clock next to your bed and grimacing when you see how late it is. You hadn’t realized you’d been lying here so long, trying and failing to work up the will to rise.

The mattress dips beside you, and then you’re blinking rapidly as the light clicks on.

“What’s wrong?” Tomura asks, and you shrug.

“I dunno.” You do know, at least sort of, but it’s hard to articulate. Hard to explain how this just happens sometimes, a feeling as though all the energy has been sucked out of you.

A cool palm presses against your forehead. “Are you sick?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I just don’t feel good.”

Tomura chews at the inside of his cheek. He can tell by your expression that something is wrong—you’re a little paler than usual, and your smile is tight. But he’s less concerned with what the problem is, and more concerned with what you need. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to bug you,” you mumble, curling in a little tighter on yourself, and you see the way his lips press into a tight line at that. Then he’s rising, disappearing from the room only to return moments later with his Switch in his hands.

He hands you yours from where it was resting on your desk. “Let’s play Animal Crossing.”

“Really?” you ask, struggling to sit up a little. Normally you have to plead a little to get him to play with you—he tends to prefer more action-oriented games and claims to get bored—but this time he only nods.

The knot that had been forming in his stomach eases slightly when your smile widens, looking less forced, and he drops onto the bed next to you, tugging you to his side. You tip your head up to kiss his cheek before cuddling in a little closer, and then two of you spend the next couple of hours like that, playing together quietly.

Tomura finds himself distracted though, constantly sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye to see if this is helping. He thinks it is—that contented smile remains on your face, and you don’t look quite as tired when you finally set your console down, stretching a little and announcing that you need a break.

He sets his own aside. “What do you want to do now?”

“I’m not sure,” you say, chewing at your lip. “Don’t you have to get back to work?” He’s been busy you know, and you feel bad for distracting him, but he looks irritated at the suggestion.

“No,” he says flatly, and you feel a little flutter of warmth at his insistence on staying by your side. You lean up to kiss him, your hands clutching at his shirt and a small sigh escaping you at the feel of his lips pressing against your own. When you pull away, his expression has shifted, a bright gleam in his crimson eyes. Then he’s shifting you beneath him, his fingertips creeping up your thigh as he kisses you again, murmuring softly against your lips. 

“Maybe there’s something else we can do that will make you feel better.”

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki drabble #soft shigaraki #petalsrdead #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki #bnha shigaraki

[headheartbellarke]

LIGHT A FIRE IN MY EYES | Owen Patrick Joyner

PAIRING(S): Charlie Gillespie’s sister!Reader x Owen Patrick Joyner

WARNING(S): fluff, angst

WORDS: 3.4k

SUMMARY: where Y/N is charlie gillespie’s sister, and while living with him and owen, unexpected feelings rise up. (im so bad at these)

READER’S POV

    A rhythmic knock on my bedroom door breaks me out of my trance. I push my glasses further up my nose and close my physics textbook, dropping my pencil between the pages to bookmark it. Pushing myself off the chair, I stretch my arms above my head – I’ve been sitting at my desk for about five hours now, trying to revise everything for my exam tomorrow. I walk over to my door, and unlock it, and I’m greeted by my brother, Charlie. He takes in my appearance and frowns.

     “I thought you were still sleeping. When did you get up?”

     “Uhh…” I trail off, looking behind me at the clock mounted on the wall opposite to me. 10:30 AM.  “About 5, yeah.”

    I turn back and notice my brother widening his eyes. “Are you okay, little one?”

    I’m not a morning person, under no circumstances ever. Growing up, I’ve always been the last person to wake up – Charlie being the first. So, I guess it’s awfully unusual for him to hear this.

     “This is college, honey. You wouldn’t know.” I shrug at him and he grins. I’ve always hated the fact that he got a free pass from college, since he’s an actor.

    That is also the reason why he’s here. We grew up in Canada – Charlie, me, my two other older brothers and my twin sister Meghan. Growing up, Charlie, Meghan and I were inseparable – since we’re closer in age – Charlie’s only two years older than Meghan and me. But I had to leave home for college – I got into Caltech, and that was not an opportunity I was about to give up, even though Charlie protested so many times that I’m apparently the baby of the house and I shouldn’t go to another country alone.

    Now, he’s living with me – he is shooting for his show, Julie and The Phantoms (proud sister, here), and they have a couple of scenes and some recording to do in LA, so he’s staying in my apartment for a week, along with his friend, co-star and roommate back in Vancouver, Owen. Previously, they lived with me for more than a month when they had to go through musical bootcamp or something for the sake of the show. (So proud.)

    That was also when I’d developed a massive crush on Owen.

    Charlie was living with me for a good two weeks when, one day, he took me out to meet the rest of the cast. (Who were all lovely, by the way.) On the drive there, he told me that Owen had been living in a hotel since he’s originally from Oklahoma, and that Charlie’s thinking of asking him to come live with us, if I was okay with that. Of course, I had said yes. I had ample space in my duplex apartment and living alone is boring. So, Charlie introduced me to Owen and we immediately hit it off. Of course, I thought that he was incredibly attractive when we met. But I meet a lot of attractive people at university.

    Then, we started living together, and I realized how amazing Owen actually is. He’s an absolute dork – but he’s also funny, very kind, thoughtful, compassionate, altruistic and so, so nice. Both of us have a lot in common, and there’s always been this unsaid, unacknowledged chemistry between us that a lot of the other cast members had picked up on. (Not my brother, though. He would have killed Owen.) We had so much fun when we were together – he turned everything into an adventure. The best part was that I got to be myself, completely, whenever I was around him. I got to talk about whatever I wanted with him – he never, ever judged me.

    Before they went to Vancouver when production for the show began, we had a last night out with the rest of the cast and a bunch of family members – except the kids. We went to this bar near my college. I was so, so drunk and then I suddenly started feeling queasy and Owen offered to take me home since Charlie was in the same position. There was so much traffic and Owen and I kept singing whatever song was on the radio to pass the time – LA traffic – when we were both leaning across our seats and we started kissing. I remember feeling like I would burst from the happiness and the softness, the affection, the admiration that he had in his eyes when he looked at me.

    Of course, I fell asleep pretty soon after the traffic dissipated and woke up next morning to find him packing for his trip. That was when I’d realized that no matter how much I liked him, we could never be together. First of all, long distance relationships almost never work out, and secondly, he’s my brother’s best friend. That was why I chose to just give him a quick hug goodbye and head to college – without even bothering to drop them off at the airport, or even talking to him.

    He texted and called a couple of times after that, too. But I never responded, never even opened any of his texts – because I knew that once I do that, I would definitely call him. That went on for a week, and the only time we spoke was when he’d texted me from Savannah’s phone: why are you ignoring me? I texted back all the reasons why we couldn’t ever be together, and I didn’t hear from him for another week, until Charlie called me the day before yesterday, telling me that they have a couple of scenes to do in LA, along with some recording stuff, and they’ll stay with me for a few days. I had to approve, or else Charlie might figure out everything.

    They arrived yesterday, and I think that I’ve done a pretty good job of ignoring him so far.

    Charlie’s voice breaks me out of my train of thoughts. “You have exams or what?”

    I nod. “Applied physics, tomorrow. Are you going out?” I ask, pointing at his dark blue jeans.

     “Madi and I are writing this song together. You’ll love it.”

    I smile at him. “If I’m not the first one to hear it –”

    He hums, a chuckle escaping him. I lean against the doorframe, as he continues, “Owen just woke up. He doesn’t start his scenes until tomorrow, so I told him to take care of you today, while I’m away.”

    I ignore the way my heart skips a beat at the mere mention of his name and flatten my lips. “I’m 19, Charlie, I can –”

     “Take care of yourself, blah blah blah. I don’t care.”

    I roll my eyes, and playfully shove him forward. He stumbles a few steps backwards and furrows his brows at me. “Ouch!”

     “Are you taking my car?”

    He nods. “Where –”

     “In the magnetic key holder on the fridge.”

     “Okay, sis.” He smiles at me, leaning forward to ruffle my hair – which makes it even messier than it already was. “Go away!” I grumble, trying to pat his hand away. “Never!” He calls out, turning toward the kitchen to grab the keys.

    I shake my head and laugh. “Love you!”

    He shouts back, without looking behind at me. “Love you most!”

****

    The delicious smell of pancakes reminds me of the fact that I haven’t eaten since last night. I drag my feet to the kitchen, mentally preparing myself for the person I’m about to encounter in there.

     “Uh, hi…” I hesitantly call out, entering the kitchen – and notice a very shirtless Owen, with his very shirtless back turned towards me. He turns around at the sound of my voice, and a few strands of golden blonde hair fall across his eyes. I long to reach my hand across and push those away.

    Instead, he himself does that as his eyes flit over me, and a look of pain flashes through his eyes. I hate that I’m the cause of that.

     “I was wondering how you would ignore me when we’re living in the same apartment.”

     “I deserve that.” I walk over to the stove to stand beside him.

    He ignores me and goes back to flipping golden brown pancakes which smell amazing, but all I can focus on is the curve of his back, the hollow space between his collarbones, and the way his hands grip on the pan a little too hard. I feel a warmth course through my body and find myself missing the way he used to wrap his arms around me from behind in the mornings when Charlie was still asleep.

     “Owen,” I whisper, and he inhales sharply at that. “Please. I don’t want things to be like this – I don’t want us to be like this.”

    He uses his spatula to lift the pancake and puts it atop other pancakes on a plate beside the stove and turns it off. He turns around to face me, biting his lip and I think I just had an aneurysm because of the intensity of his gaze.

    He sighs, leaning against the counter. “Y/N. You made it pretty clear that there would never be an ‘us.’”

     “I know. But we can still be friends, right? Like we were before… everything.”

     “See, that’s the thing. I can’t. Y/N, do you have any idea what you’ve put me through for the past two weeks?” He snaps.

     “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” I reply, hotly. “Owen, it broke me inside to ask you to stay away. Do you have any idea how much I care about you?”

     “No! I don’t, because you don’t talk to me, Y/N.”

     “I told you, there is no point in doing long distance –”

     “That’s bullshit, Y/N, and you know it, too. I think you’re just too scared to be with me because you think that I’d break your heart, leave you alone or hurt you. But that’s the thing, Y/N – I won’t do any of that to you, because that’s exactly what you’re doing to me.” He crosses his arms across his chest.

    I breathe out shakily, running a hand through my curls. “That’s not true –”

    Owen scoffs. “Please, Y/N. I know you.”

    I lower my eyes from his because I can’t handle the way he’s looking at me.

     “Y/N, do you know how fucking hard the past week’s been for me? I can’t even talk to anyone about it, because the only person I wanna talk to is your brother and we all know what will happen if I do that. He’s my best friend, and I’ve been lying to him for weeks, pretending that I like this hairdresser, when in reality, I’m head over heels for his sister. I can’t tell him that I can’t stop thinking about her, and that she’s the only person that can calm me down when I get anxious on set. I can’t tell him that she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it’s killing me inside to not talk to her!”

    He finishes, breathing out heavily. I look at his eyes and notice that they’re gleaming.

     “Wait, what hairdresser?”

    He scoffs, annoyed. “Seriously, Y/N?”

    I shrug and breathe deeply, trying to stop myself from taking his hands in my own. “You know, there are so many guys at school that ask me out, but I can’t go out with any of them, because guess what, they’re not you. I like you so much, Owen, so, so much, but I can’t do anything about it – because you’re right. I’m scared. I’m terrified that you’ll leave me, because I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time. I’m so scared that one day you’ll wake up and realize that I’m not who you want anymore. I’m scared that maybe you’ll hurt me or meet someone else in Vancouver. I’m scared about so many things because that’s exactly how much I care about you, Owen!”

    I take a step further and we are standing mere inches apart. I can feel him breathe out raggedly and see the curve of his nose and his darkened eyes flickering to my lips.

     “I would never, ever do that to you, Y/N. You mean a lot to me. Please, please believe me.” He whispers out, and I tell myself to stop, to turn back, to go into my room but instead I just stand there and watch him exhale out, and I know he’s feeling anxious. I lift a hand to his face and cup his cheek in the palm of my hand and he leans his face onto my hand, resting his right hand over mine. The gesture calms the both of us down, and I know, in that moment, that I believe him. That he, us – is a risk worth taking.

     “Your hands are so cold.” He whispers. I nod. “Yours are warm.”

    Both of us stand there, in the kitchen, trying to make sense of what just happened – trying to hold on to this moment. A silence engulfs the both of us, as I sort through my thoughts.

     “Owen,” I whisper. He flicks his eyes to mine. “Promise me you won’t do any of that.”

    He raises his left hand, jutting out his little finger. I raise my other hand too, and he wraps his little finger around mine and whispers back, “Pinkie promise.”

     “Okay.” I whisper, neither of us daring to uncurl our fingers or look anywhere else.

     “Promise me that you wouldn’t leave me for some future tech billionaire.”

    I scrunch my face up at that. “What? No!”

     “Promise me you’d call –”

     “Every single day, Owen. You too.”

    Both of us nod together, and he lifts his other hand to tuck a curl that had previously escaped from my actually-messy-and-not-cute bun. “You’re so beautiful.”

    I smile, and a tear escapes my eyes – Owen rubbing it away with his thumb. I lean forward, standing on my tiptoes and rest my hands against his bare chest for support as I press my lips to his. He smiles against the kiss, and I feel as if a zoo has gone wild in my stomach. I feel warmth and happiness course through my veins as Owen deepens the kiss, the intense longing in the both of us for each other clawing its way out to the surface. It’s almost as if I’m drinking water for the first time in a week. He tastes like banana pancakes, chocolate syrup and everything good in the world. I press myself against him, wrapping my arms around neck while he does the same around my torso. It frightens me a little how well our bodies fit against each other – but it makes me feel strong knowing that I have an amazing person who genuinely cares about me.

****

CHARLIE’S POV

    Charlie unlocked the door to his sister’s apartment, mentally noting to remind her of the fact that her car desperately needs a wash. He enters the foyer, and drops the keys in a bowl, kicking off his shoes.

    Suddenly, he pauses, noticing how incredibly quiet the apartment is – which is unlike Y/N. She always has music blasting or the TV running – she hates the quiet. He quickly walks into the living room and almost screams in surprise.

    His little sister and his best friend are curled up on the sofa, their backs towards him. Y/N is lying on Owen’s chest and she has an arm wrapped around his torso while Owen’s arms are interlocked at the front, holding her against his body. Their tangled legs peek from underneath the quilt that Charlie and Y/N’s mother knit for her youngest daughter last Christmas. She laughs at something that Owen whispers into her ear, and he presses a kiss to her forehead, and they look at each other with so much adoration that Charlie has to look away.

    He sighs, mentally cursing himself for being so, so stupid. How could he have ignored the signs? Charlie remembers Y/N and Owen meeting, both in a daze, both smiling a little too much and Y/N walking with a skip in her steps. He remembers them talking for hours on end, binging Brooklyn 99 on weekends, and always hanging out with each other whenever they went to the same parties. He remembers that morning three weeks ago when he’d woken up late, and gone to the kitchen only to find the duo springing apart from each other, both erupting in a flurry of coughs and laughs, as if he’d just walked on them robbing a bank – Owen had explained that he had apparently broken a glass. He remembers the way Owen would look at her, as if she had just done something miraculous. He remembers the way Y/N would look at his best friend, as if he was made of everything good in the world.

    Most of all, he remembers how Owen sulked whenever he was alone back in Vancouver. He remembers how Owen constantly declined to go out with that cute hairdresser. He remembers how Owen sometimes seemed out of it. He remembers how Owen would sprint whenever Charlie called his sister. He remembers how Owen would keep checking his phone every few minutes in between takes.

    Charlie also remembers his sister asking about how Owen is when they talked on the phone, and how her voice seemed like she was asking something that was forbidden, something that was evil. He remembers how she would always hang up the phone whenever she heard Owen’s voice. He remembers her always declining his invites to go to Vancouver.

    How could he have been so dumb? The signs were right there. He lived with Owen, for god’s sake! Charlie feels an array of emotions. He’s always hated Y/N’s choice in men, despised anyone putting their hands on his baby sister’s body.

    But, to see them like this – to see Y/N look so safe, so comfortable in Owen’s arms, he can’t help but feel relief flood into his system. Because he knows his best friend, and he knows what kind of person he is. And now, he thinks just how much sense they make together. Sure, Owen is kind of stupid, reckless, impulsive, and clumsy – but so is Y/N – well, she’s not stupid, he thinks. She’s the smartest person in their family. But she has a fire within her – and his best friend matches that fire. Charlie thinks of the fact that they complement each other so nicely, both are caring, passionate, and kind-hearted. Of course, they would fall for each other. It just makes so much sense – they make so much sense.

    Still, Charlie feels hurt that neither of them bothered to tell him about it. (even though he won’t admit it, it’s understandable, really – considering the way he’s bugged his sister about her previous relationships.)

    He clears his throat and the duo on the couch jump apart, both flushed and with their eyes widened. Owen stands up, moving away from couch, while Y/N looks at her brother as if he’s a ghost.

    A silence falls over the apartment. Y/N finally says, “How’d you – how’d you get in?”

    He shrugs. “I had a spare key.”

    Owen looks between his girlfriend and his best friend, with widened eyes. “Charlie, I’m so sorry –”

    Suddenly, Charlie laughs, swatting at the air. “Pfft. You think I’m gonna be the weird brother who kills his best friend for dating his sister? Come on, this isn’t a TV show. I’m actually really happy for you guys – I ignored all the signs these past weeks, but I see them now. Of course, it’s really weird for me, but I love the both of you so much. Owen, relax, I’m not gonna kill you. Dude. Just don’t kiss or anything in front of me, cause that’s gross. Ew. You know what, don’t do that at all. And I’ll kill you, Owen, if you ever hurt her, I swear. I’ll put poison in your waffles. I just don’t understand why –”

    Charlie is cut off by his sister tackling him in a hug. He wraps his arms around her body, as she whispers, “I love you, big brother.”

    He murmurs, “Love you most, little one.” He catches Owen’s eye who looks at him with gratefulness and a little smile.

 **** 

READ ON AO3 WITH OC!

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#owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #julie and the phantoms #alex jatp #charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie's sister #ao3 #julie and the phantoms fanfiction #jatp fanfic #fantoms #owen joyner fanfiction #owen joyner fanfic #owen patrick joyner fanfic #owen patrick joyner fanfiction #madison reyes #jeremy shada #kenny ortega #savannah lee may #juke #julie molina #luke patterson #booboo stewart #willex #willie jatp #julie x luke #Owen joyner imagine #Owen patrick joyner imagine #Owen joyner x reader #Owen patrick joyner x reader

[q-gorgeous]

The Unworld

fanfiction

ao3

HI THIS IS A REPOST jnbhgv i originally posted this march 15th, 2018 on ffn but im gonna start going through the painstaking process of posting all my fics on ao3 so were just gonna go in order starting with the first one

idk if i ever posted this on my main blog so

I’ve been drifting around this place for what feels like millenniums. I can’t remember how I ended up here, just that one day I found myself unfortunate enough to be taken here. There’s no light, no ghastly glows from any other creatures. I’ve been here so long I can no longer even tell if I’m still blinking. 

This place has no real feeling to it. Just vast emptiness. It doesn’t really feel like it goes on forever, and it’s not a heavy, overwhelming type of emptiness either. The temperature feels as if it’s at a comfortable point, but I begin to wonder if I’ve just grown used to the climate of this strange place after being here for centuries. My fingertips are still cold though. That’s one thing I remember from my life all that time ago. I could never conquer the cold, no matter how bundled up I was. 

I’ve also begun to notice that my form is no longer the same as when I first arrived here. I feel lighter now than I did then. Sometimes I also feel as if my legs turn into a tail as I float here. I’m not sure why that is, I’ve just come to see it as evolving to my surroundings, becoming my surroundings. I think that might be what happens to other beings who get stuck here. They get eaten and picked at by this place. Because I can’t be the only one who’s had the unfortunate luck to get stuck here, can I?

I also believe that beings trapped here get devoured because I can feel myself becoming wispy, like I’m made out of a flickery material similar to fire. Bits by bits of myself flake off in the flowing rhythm my body has taken on. 

As my train of thought goes in circles on it’s tracks with no end, I realize something that I haven’t tried to do for a long time. 

Move. 

Walk. 

Get around. 

It must’ve been quite a few centuries since I’ve tried to look for a way to escape this dark place. I was still more corporeal then, still knew how to work my limbs. Would I even be able to make it a few steps before growing weary and succumbing to this place once again?

As I think and think and think, I come to the conclusion that nothing would hurt whether I did it or not. I began by trying to take a step forward in front of me but I’m not standing on anything to take a step from. As I lose my balance and begin to wobble, my legs turn into a flickering tail once again and I balance out. I begin to float forward more steadily now, as if my tail is helping to propel me. 

I go on for what could be minutes, hours, or even years until I come across something that feels so alien but oh so familiar at the same time. 

Gravity. 

There’s a weight pulling me towards what I assume is down. At first I just quietly observe what’s happening. But then I hear something that isn’t the ever so slowly shallower and shallower breaths I’ve been taking for centuries. It’s loud and it isn’t something I’ve ever heard before. And then…

I can see. 

There’s a fluorescent green glowing above me. I look at my arms, wispy and shadow like, reflecting the green light. 

My escape is above me. The opposite way that I’m floating.

I begin to propel myself upwards, trying to fight the ever increasing feeling of gravity as it pushes harder and harder against me. Soon I’m clawing myself up, fingers gripping a wall, it bends against my fingers and it’s the most wonderful thing I can ever remember feeling. Something beneath my fingers. 

As I make my way up I begin to wonder how I know this is an escape. Who knows whether or not this place is controlled by some other powerful being, or if this is just the last stage before my existence is finally wiped away. I just know that I need to pull myself over this wall and into this light. 

Pulling myself over the wall is excruciatingly painful and tiring. I haven’t used my muscles for anything except breathing in centuries. At one point, I lost my hold and almost fell from the wall but I managed to keep my grip and keep climbing up. 

As I finally pull myself up over the wall, I look at the green light, triumphant, but I notice that it’s getting smaller and smaller. Disappearing, my last chance. 

Panicking, I dive into the portal, crashing into a solid floor on the other side. 

My senses are immediately overwhelmed. I can feel gravity and the floor crowding in from all around me. I can smell different scents that I can’t recognize, this place smells burnt, caustic, and slightly of a sweet smell that makes my mouth begin to water. The most overwhelming though is sound. So much is happening. I can hear sets of shouts, but I can also hear whirring. The sound of electricity mixes with the sound of someone screaming and through my panicked state on the floor I begin wondering what’s happening around me in this new world I fell into. 

I drag myself up into a sitting position, and gap at the sight before me. A young being falls out of the glowing, fluorescent light that I made my escape through. Had there been someone else in there with me this whole time? Had I not realized it? The screaming has stopped now that the figure with snow white hair exited the portal and collapsed. 

This being does not appear to be human. 

Am I even human anymore?

I begin to creep forward to ask them a question when two teenagers rush past me and collapse next to the second being to escape from the portal. 

Confused, I begin to pull myself towards the creature on the ground. Why couldn’t his friends see me? Am I not visible?

The boy opens his glowing green eyes and looks at the two humans above him.

“Sam? Tucker?” He asks.

I’m flabbergasted. How could he know their names? It is nearly impossible to escape from that place. How could he happen to know these two humans?

They three have a few more exchanges before the boy is standing. He looks around and finds a reflective fixture hanging on the wall. What’s the word for it again? It’s been so long…

As the boy takes a look at his appearance, he begins to shake. He shakes his head back and forth, clearly in a state of panic. 

“N-no, guys how can this be happening? Why do I look like this? Why do I feel so strange? Why-.”

Suddenly he stops speaking, looking at the ground he turns around to face his friends. He looks up, with a shocked expression on his face before he quietly whispers.

“Am I dead?” 

The three look around at each other, at a loss for words in their fear. Soon enough a big rumbling comes from above and the three teens look up. Panic falls across all of their faces. 

A worried voice comes from the entryway to the room.

“Danny, kids, are you okay?”

The one I presume to be Danny, begins to breathe more heavily as his eyes widen. 

“They can’t see me like this. What would I tell them? ‘Your invention works but it killed me’?”

The two try to calm him down but a sudden burst of white light emits around him and engulfs him from his head to his toes. Once it dies down a human boy can be seen standing in his place, with raven black hair and baby blue eyes. 

At that moment his parents rush downstairs and begin coddling him, making sure he’s okay when they see the portal behind him. They wear a shocked expression, but quickly shake their heads and rush their son upstairs. Soon a door can be heard slamming shut and something speeds away. 

My mind is reeling at everything I just witnessed. More than anything I have witnessed in the last few centuries. But that boy didn’t come from inside the portal like I did. 

He’s the reason it turned on. 

I float towards the portal, peering at it but not daring to go inside, lest I get trapped in that dark nothingness once again. 

This changed something about that boy, this isn’t something that should have happened. I’m sure of it. 

I turn to look in the… Mirror! It’s called a mirror. At first I can’t see myself but then I flicker into existence and I can see what I look like for the first time in as long as I can remember. 

It’s not what I was expecting. I appear translucent and wispy, my eyes also a glowing green. I look as if I were a fire so cold it were a shadow. 

I once again look around the room, feeling lost and alone. I’m unsure what to do with my new found freedom, knowing I can’t pick up where I left off. I don’t even know when I left off. 

I make my way up the...stairs. 

I see a burst of orange light coming from outside the house and look through the window. The sun is closing in on the horizon. I try to turn the doorknob but find that my hand passes straight through it instead. Looking at it in shock, I just float straight through the door. 

I sit down on the grass outside, relishing in the cool feeling of it as I wait for the boy to come home. 

I’m unsure on what I should do now, but one thing I think I need to do is stay here and help this boy however I’m meant to. 

Because why else would I have escaped the Unworld? It couldn’t have been a coincidence. 

My memories begin to resurface now that I can interact with anything that isn’t a numbing darkness. I can feel the memories of my capture welling up. 

This...halfa… escaped the wrath of the Unworld and death. 

This halfa got the chance that I did not. I got sucked in by a portal whose calculations were off by a point and while I believe the same being changing experience happened to us both, he got the chance of them being right this time. 

I look back at the house that I’m sitting in front of. As my memories return I realize that I hadn’t actually been in that place for centuries. 

It looks like it hasn’t even been a year. 

Two portal accidents in the time frame of a year. 

I always knew that their sick obsession with ghosts would eventually end up hurting one of us. 

But you’d think that after accidentally letting your only daughter walk right in the middle of an experiment, that they would learn their lesson. Especially after learning she disappeared from it’s effects. 

But now, her little brother was now a victim of their twisted obsession too. 

As I sit in our small patch of grass in front of the house, something happens. A ring of white light spreads up and around me. Holding my hands up, I see that they are my hands. Peachy, solid hands.

I look up to see my family gaping at me from the RV. Tears spring to my eyes and they exit the vehicle and run towards me. 

I’m not sure what happened to Danny and I, but I know that, together, we’ll conquer this challenge.

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #the unworld #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #phic

[honeypirate]

Just an Extra

Bakugou x yn

((I forced myself to finish this no matter how it turned out so I’m sorry if it’s rushed. I needed to finish something again.))

“I can’t believe Aizawa stopped the race like that”

Bakugou aggressively kicked a rock on the walk back to your homes. You just left the school pool after some training before the summer camp. “They’re not only our completion tho, they’re our friends” you say and place a hand on his shoulder to try and ease some of his tension. “I won’t let them get ahead of me! Isn’t that what being the best is?!” His whole body is tensed and his fists clenched. You softly wrap your arms around his body from the back, laying your cheek between his shoulders and your arms tight around his stomach. “Suki..” you whisper “you will be the number one hero, I know you will, but please take care of yourself. You don’t have to fight alone. You don’t have to be alone” you can feel his body relax a little and he sets his hands softly against yours on his stomach as he sighs “y/n. ..” his voice was soft and kind, something you hardly ever heard from him.

Before he can continue you hear footsteps running up behind you and you drop your arms from him and step away quickly. He glares at you “Don’t be an idiot. I know I’m not alone. there’s only one number one hero and that’s going to be me” he shouts just as Kirishima appears next to you “woah Bakugou no need to be such a dick to her” you just smile curtly and continue to walk home.

Kirishima talked the entire walk back, you all live on the same route so you walk together home, you hardly said a thing. Your home was first and so you just waved and ran inside.

It always happened like that. You’d be kind to him and he’d almost be nice back but then he’d shout in your face.

“You were amazing Bakugou!” Squeeze his hand. He whips his hand from your grasp and shouts “I’m always amazing! Idiot!”

“Katsuki are you okay?” You’d be worried and he’d waiver and almost let you hug him, before shoving you away “I’m fine, extra.”

Once when you were walking home with him, you almost went to touch his arm, almost went to say something nice to him. You knew he had a bad day. But you were tired of being yelled at by him. That’s when you learned to keep your mouth shut. To not touch him. You got to your house and you left without a word or glance. You realized then, you wouldn’t be around him anymore since he obviously didn’t like you.

You’ve been acting weird to him for a while, he’s noticed. But he’s not gonna say anything. You’ll come around again. You followed him like a lost puppy. It was so annoying. But he knew. You’d be back.

As the days went by it got easier to be around him when you had to be and you realized how nice it was to not get yelled at every day.

Whenever Kirishima wanted him around you’d be civil. But if it wasn’t for Kiri you probably wouldn’t be Katsuki’s friend anymore.

The times you could hang out alone with Kiri became some of your favorite moments. Like when you sparred with him after a workout and distracted him by kissing his cheek when he tried to put you in a hold. All of your good moments with him were easily ruined when Bakugou would come around with his anger and rudeness.

After your training you walked into the dorms to be met with a glaring look by Bakugou, mad because you were late back and he had plans with Kiri. You rolled your eyes “maybe he likes me more than you because at least I’m nice to him” you say before looking at Kirishima and completely ignoring Bakugou. “Text me?” You ask with a smile and he nods, ruffling your hair. You blush before walking away from them to go shower, still ignoring Bakugou.

This is what your relationship with Bakugou was like now. While your friendship with Kirishima progressed and was amazing. The one with Bakugou disappeared, a year later it’s basically nonexistent since you shared everything with Kirishima and he was respectful to not force you around his other friend.

“What’s her deal?” Bakugou asks when you’re gone. Kirishima rolls his eyes “you’re an idiot Bakugou. If you want to know why she doesn’t like being around you, then go ask her” Bakugou doesn’t know why he didn’t think of that before as he storms off after you, catching you in the stairwell. You always took the stairs because you were on the second floor and it didn’t seem necessary to use an elevator.

He grabs your wrist to stop you “what’s your problem?” He yells at you and you don’t even flinch as you smack him in the face with your other hand. “I don’t have problems with assholes unless they assault me. Don’t. touch. Me. Bakugou” you say and rip your hand from his grasp and begin to walk up the stairs again and he gets annoyed. He pushes past you and blocks your way. “What the fuck happened?” His voice is quieter now even though he’s still fuming, his cheek turning red from your slap.

You were exhausted, to be honest, you felt exasperated and like you don’t care anymore, you just want to go to your room. “Katsuki Bakugou” you chuckle “It should be obvious, shouldn’t it? I didn’t think that the future number one hero would be this dense.” You mocked him and he growled.

You didn’t want to have this conversation now. You were too worked up. But you knew he wouldn’t let it go. “I saw only good in you. I thought you were someone i could trust. And I tried so hard. But you took that and crumbled it beneath your feet on your way to the top. So if you wanna treat me like garbage, take me for granted, yell at me, belittle me, I’m not going to be in your life anymore. You don’t deserve me wasting my energy on you when you only see me as an extra. But Kirishima,” you point in his direction “that guy is so kind and so caring. I don’t know how he does it. He makes me feel like he actually wants to be my friend. I hug him and he hugs me back. He makes me laugh. I don’t have to second guess anything I do with him. I can trust him. I can’t trust you. So. This is me being your extra.” you push past him and run the few steps up to the door and leave him behind in the stairwell.

A short while later you got a text from Kirishima

Kiri- “what did you say to Bakugou?”

You-“I was honest”

Kiri-“he’s acting strange”

You-“Kiri can we talk about it later? Also, will you come to my room later before curfew?”

Kiri-“sure. Why?”

You-“I need a hug”

After that you threw your phone on your bed and went to the showers.

As much as you thought you got over it, you didn’t. You still admired Bakugou. But it’s hard when the person who you admire treats you terrible. It was time to be done with it. You showered, you cried in the shower, then you picked yourself back up and headed to your room.

After studying and watching some tiktoks you get another text from Kirishima

Kiri- “have you eaten dinner?”

You-“ummm”

Kiri-“say less”

After a few minutes there’s a knock at your door and you open it, expecting to find Kirishima, but instead it’s a shy looking Bakugou with a sack of your favorite snacks, some take out, and some ice cream. You invite him in and he sets the bags down on your desk. “What’s going on?” You ask quietly and he clears his throat “I’m sorry” your heart flutters “what was that? I didn’t hear you” you step closer to him and put your hand to your ear. He quickly but softly snatches your hand and you gasp in shock at his facial expression. An expression you never saw him wear, guilt.

“Listen y/n. I’m sorry. I treated you like you weren’t important to me. But I’ve missed you so much” his voice is quiet, cracking at the end. What was happening? You were so shocked and speechless as he continues . “Every time you leave my stomach feels like there is a brick in it. I miss you. I know I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your friendship. I don’t deserve anything from you. I was stupid. I am stupid. Please give me another chance” you’re staring at his face as he looks sheepishly at his hand that’s still holding yours. “It’s been a year” you whisper and he nods “I know” his voice is soft “why now? Is kirishima making you do this?” You’re not angry anymore. You can see how he’s changed because he’d never dream of apologizing to anyone before. “No he’s not making me do shit” he says gruffly and then sighs and looks into your eyes as he continues “I know I really messed up but I’d hate myself if I never tried to fix what I ruined” he’s being honest, you realize, and can’t help but throw your arms around him and hug him, laying your head on his chest as you hold him tight. After a few moments of shock he returns your hug, holding you tight to his chest and he lays his cheek against the top of your head.

“Im not letting you off easy so don’t think that” you say trying to sound stern and you hear a low chuckle from his chest “I know we’ve both changed this last year y/n. I’m just happy you’ll let me have a chance to get to know you again” he says and runs his fingers through your hair.

“The ice cream!” You yell and then pull back and grab it from the bag “do you want some?” You turn to him and hold it up with a smile and he blushes at how cute you looked. “Come on now, eat some dinner first. I got you your favorite from that place we used to like” you gasp and hurry, putting the ice cream in your small bedroom fridge before grabbing his hand and the food bags, pulling him to your bed with you. If he wanted to get to know you again you’ll start right now. He knew he’d not get another chance after this so he’ll make sure not to mess it up this time. You shove a huge bite in your mouth and moan as you chew. It was so good and you haven’t eaten it in so long.

You look up into his eyes as he sits at the edge of your bed “Way I’m don’t -ting” you say through another big bite and he chuckles softly. You swallow before trying to speak again “when I’m done eating” you poke your utensil at him “we’re going to eat that ice cream and talk about everything, what happened, how you hurt me, why you did it. All of it. That’s how we’re going to get over this. That’s how we’re going to move forward.” He nods “Okay” he has a small smile his lips and you nod once “good. You want some?” You offer him a bite and he nods “so bad. I was so nervous to talk to you I haven’t eaten anything” he takes the bite you offer him and you shake your head. A little amused at him. “you dummy. You need to eat. You work harder than everyone” you say and then take a few more big bites before handing the container to him “finish what you want from it, you know I never finish a full plate” he chuckles. “True” he says and nods, taking it from you “thank you y/n” he says, he knows the conversation ahead will be hard, but he feels relieved that you’ll let him in again.

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