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#because they had almost opposite meanings?!?
abbyscherry · 1 day
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❀ — CAFÉS & CROSSWORDS
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🇵🇸 daily click | palestine masterpost | important tlou post
loser abby chokes on air, almost drops her pencil, and crossword book on the floor when she notices you walking into the small café that she’s always visiting, for the first time. a bright smile on your face that has her cheeks flushing crimson red under the dim lighting of the area she was sitting in, just because of how bright your smile was. her palms suddenly sweaty when you’re letting out a laugh. a laugh she wants to constantly hear. 
the turtle neck sweater suddenly feels too tight around her neck, her blush deepening when you’re turning around, still laughing with your friends, and your eyes slowly trail around until they’re landing on her. smiling softly when you spot her scrambling for her pen, looking away just as quick when she’s realising you had just caught her staring shamelessly. 
abby was quickly trying to act oblivious to your staring. if she could stare at you and blush whenever you find her looking, why can’t you stare and smirk when she catches you watching? but it was slightly harder for her because she could feel your eyes burning into the side of her face. almost like you were trying to knock her glasses off just by looking at her.
she had barely even realized you’d grabbed your drink, and made your way over to the selection of books on the shelf when abby turned around, without seeming too shy this time or hiding it better, to look for you. only pouting as a result when she couldn’t find you. had you left? why was she already wanting to fawn over you from a distance and never actually talk to you? was she scared? maybe. would she ever say anything to you unless you did? never. 
it was cute. cute watching her look for you and she barely even knew your name.
simply unaware you were standing behind her, finding the whole interaction more adorable with a smile on your face when she’s burying her face back into her book, or whatever it was that she was reading or doing. 
taking a few steps forward, you couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing. your interest peaking higher at the pretty blonde who suddenly gained your attention as you heard before you could see the pencil in her hand, tapping on the wooden table and a angry scoffed came from her.
your smile brightened a few seconds later at the simple realisation she liked to do puzzles, and was clearly seconds away from giving up.
“introgression” you finally spoke up after watching her struggle for an extra few minutes on writing and erasing the incorrect answer. 
the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, turning around on her chair quickly and regrettably knocking her knee on the table in the process when she found you, standing there with your head cocked to the side and chuckling. with a wince, she replied with a stammered, “what?” looking anywhere but at you.
“the answer to your crossword question. what is a 13-letter word meaning entrance? it’s introgression”
“oh”
“m’sorry, you’ve just been staring at it for a while” you chuckled, smiling down at her.
“it kinda slipped my mind i guess, but thank you” 
“you’re welcome” you giggled, fumbling with your bracelet. “do you do crosswords a lot?”
“uhm, sometimes? keeps my brain focused” abby nodded, nervously tucking a strand of loose hair behind her glasses, and pushing her glasses higher up on her nose. “s’tupid, i know”
“no, no. s’not stupid, it’s cute” you reassured her quickly, smirking at her sudden flushed cheeks. “i can help you finish it, if you’d like? no pressure, i just like crosswords too” 
“you uh, want to—”
“yes pretty girl, i want to crossword with you” 
“aren’t you busy?” 
“never too busy to talk to someone as handsome as you. oh and the crosswords too, obviously, i guess” 
abby couldn't stop blushing at your words while you placed your hot drink on the table, sitting down on the chair opposite her. “you’re definitely here for the puzzle” she giggled.
“and something else, but let’s finish this before we get to the details about our date, yeah?”
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timetothirst · 2 days
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Almost
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN reader
Inspired by this post that hasn’t left my head since I first saw it
Tags: Canon typical violence, you almost die, Ghost is soft in his own weird way, confessions, everyone needs therapy, i’m not British but i’m using British slang because it’s Simon’s POV, if i got any military stuff wrong no I didn’t, sad Ghost
Rating: M for violence and language
—————
You were dying when Ghost realized he loved you.
It started the same as it always did whenever he had to meet someone new, with a quick handshake and a short introduction before he inevitably found an excuse to walk away as soon as possible. He didn’t dislike you, not necessarily, but he was no social butterfly. You were just another face to him, that was all.
Until you weren’t.
He was having trouble sleeping. That was nothing unusual, though. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d got a full eight hours without some kind of interruption, whether it be an owl outside his window that wouldn’t shut up, an inability to get comfortable because of the countless aches in his body, his thoughts just being too damn loud, or something else entirely. Whenever this happened, he’d make his way to the common room and find some way to kill the time while he waited for everyone else, maybe even get breakfast started or put the kettle on if he was feeling nice.
It was on one of those nights, after he’d finished rummaging through the fridge looking for a decent snack, that he saw you. He went to sit on the couch, and there you were. He didn’t realize it was you at first and tensed up, instinctively reaching for his combat knife (which wasn’t there, of course, since he was in his sleep clothes). At first he was baffled. How did he not notice you coming in? He wasn’t losing his edge, was he? Letting his guard down?
But then he saw the half-eaten packet of crisps in front of you and realized you’d been there the entire time, sitting in the dark, in complete silence.
“Fuckin’ hell…say somethin’ next time, yeah?” He told you, finally allowing himself to exhale.
“Sorry, I didn’t know whether or not you were going back to your room, and I didn’t want to bug you, so-“
“S’fine.” He interrupted with a wave of his hand, sitting on the opposite end of the couch and grabbing the remote.
—————
“Am I missing something here? Why’s he acting so weird all of a sudden?” You asked, staring at the screen in confusion. This was the third question you’d asked in as many minutes, but Ghost didn’t seem to mind. At the very least, he wasn’t giving you death stares or walking away from you, so you figured it was okay.
“Pon farr.” He stated, not even glancing over.
“Am I supposed to know what that means? It sounds like a weird disease…” Ghost side-eyed you as you said this and scoffed quietly.
“No, it’s not a- look, just watch, will you? They’re about to explain it.”
You rolled your eyes, but did as he said anyway.
“Oh my god…so, he can only have sex once every seven years? And if he doesn’t, he’ll just…get really pissed off and fuckin’ die?” You laughed in disbelief, then ate the last of your crisps and tossed the empty packet into the trash.
“Nah, Vulcans can mate whenever they want. Pon farr’s just a biological thing that causes…well, s’ called plak-tow, but it translates to ‘blood fever.’ Means they’ll go mad if they don’t-“
You couldn’t help but snicker, slapping your hand over your mouth with a snort when Ghost’s head snapped toward you. He looked at you with an expression that could melt steel, which would have scared you shitless under any other circumstances.
“…Seen this one.” He grumbled as an explanation, looking away from you and back at the TV screen. He crossed his arms, his face hardening into its usual scowl.
“Yeah, I can tell.”
You spent the rest of the night asking Ghost increasingly complicated questions about the show, and despite his exasperated sighs and frequent eye rolls, he answered every single one.
—————
He just kept running into you, it seemed. Sparring, target practice, and of course, your late night binges of Star Trek, whenever the two of you happened to be up at the same ungodly hour. You sat on your designated couch cushions and laughed at the awful special effects as Ghost told you to ‘shut it and watch,’ though he was sure you could see him smiling through the fabric of his mask.
As much as he hated to admit it, as cliché as it sounded, his days really were a bit brighter with you around. You filled the silence when nothing else did, joked with him, spent time with him…he’d even noticed a few little things you had started doing, things that were specifically for him. Like the night he’d taken out a pack of smokes, only to realize that he’d lost his lighter. He groaned in annoyance and went to put them away, but then, there you were, holding out a lighter of your own, the small flame reflecting in your eyes.
“The lads and I must be a bad influence, eh? I swear I remember you tellin’ me that you don’t smoke.” He’d said to you after rolling up his mask just past his lips and taking a puff of his cigarette.
“I don’t. But you do.” You replied casually, shrugging as if you’d just said the most obvious thing in the world.
“And with the way you keep losing your lighters everywhere, you’re probably spending half your paycheck replacing them!” You added, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.
Ghost rolled his eyes and told you to piss off, but he never bought another lighter after that.
—————
Price started pairing the two of you together on missions; citing the fact that you got along, as well as the way your combination of skills made you effective and deadly in the field. You were a good team, that was all. You got things done, and you got them done well, no matter the circumstances.
And then everything went to shit.
You had already suffered a dislocated shoulder and pretty bad slash wound, both to your dominant arm, so you were stuck clutching a pistol in one hand while the other dangled uselessly at your side. Almost all of the enemies had been taken care of at that point, but you were making a final sweep of the building in search of any stragglers.
Two seconds. Two goddamn seconds he looked away from you, but that was all it took. Five gunshots rang out in short succession, no doubt from an assault rifle of some kind. You screamed, shot a single round from your pistol, and two bodies thudded to the floor.
Ghost’s heart dropped. He charged into the room, looking around frantically. As badly as he wanted to rush to your side right that second, he knew he had to assess the situation first. He’d be of no use to you if he was dead, after all. The first thing he noticed was that you were breathing, and your attacker wasn’t, probably because they had a sizable hole in the side of their head. Ghost dropped to his knees next to you, trying to calm himself enough to properly check your wounds.
You looked so small lying there, curled up on your side with your face contorted in pain. A shudder wracked your body, blood beginning to pool as Ghost placed a hand on your shoulder. He gritted his teeth and turned you over. As expected, you screamed bloody murder, the movement causing your body to be jostled.
“Shit. Shitshitshitshit-” He muttered, his hands hovering over your body. Before he dared to do anything else, he reached for his radio.
“Bravo 0-7 calling for immediate medvac. Repeat, immediate medvac.” He spoke, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.
“Acknowledged. Requesting location.” A voice crackled over the speaker. He barked back your coordinates, along with an order to hurry the fuck up before disconnecting and turning his attention back to you.
“This is gonna hurt.” He warned.
He undid your vest, and his large hand immediately made contact with the most serious of your injuries, that being the bullet wound in your side. He pressed down hard in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as best he could, and your scream of pain was enough to make him feel as though he’d been shot himself. You seemed too shocked to speak, your breath coming out in short gasps, punctuated by anguished sobs.
“Shh. I know, I know…hey- look at me, yeah? Just keep lookin’ at me.”
Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he felt helpless. But here, now, as he stared down at you, it was the only thing he could feel. He wished he could be angry instead, but right now there was no one to direct that anger towards. Your attacker was lucky you’d managed to kill them before he got the chance to, or he’d have beaten them into a pulp with his bare hands and left them to rot where they fell as punishment for even fucking looking at you.
“Ghost-” You croaked out, your bleary eyes focusing on him momentarily. He shook his head.
“Simon.” He whispered, his own name feeling foreign on his tongue. You stared at him in confusion for a moment, but then your eyebrows raised and a look of realization appeared on your face.
“S…Simon?” You repeated. He nodded, tried to smile at you despite everything.
“Yeah…Simon.”
You smiled back through your tears and let out a laugh that quickly turned into a pained wheeze. “That bad, huh?”
Simon didn’t reply. He didn’t trust himself to. You’d see right through it if he lied, he was sure of it, but if he told the truth, he knew he’d break down on the spot. Instead, he gathered you into his arms and curled around you protectively, trying to keep your body warm to prevent shock.
With a start, he realized that this was the first time he’d ever held you.
“I think m’just gonna…rest for a few minutes, if that’s okay…” You breathed.
As he looked down at you, it was clear that you were struggling to keep your eyes open. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, clutching you tighter and burying his face in your hair.
“No, no, no…not you. Anyone but you.”
Simon Riley had never been a religious man, but he prayed then. He didn’t know to whom he was speaking, but it didn’t matter. He only asked for one thing.
“Don’t let them die. Not here, not now. I’ll do anything. Give them more time. Take me instead if you want. I’ll go in their place, just let them live. Please.”
He knew he didn’t deserve you. He always had, really, but that didn’t mean you should be taken away so cruelly. You should have something so much better than this, better than a cold concrete floor slick with your blood and a man like him trying to hold you together while he himself was breaking from the inside out.
“H-Hey…”
Your voice broke through the haze, and he cursed under his breath, quickly wiping his eyes and lifting his head to look at you.
“Fuck. Sorry, I- i’m right here, love. I’ve gotcha. Nothin’ to worry about, yeah?”
You just nodded. Your eyes were barely open now, your chest still slowly rising and falling with your breaths. You felt around for his hand and grabbed it, the silence seeming to last forever as you considered your next words.
“…I’m really glad I met you.” You finally said.
“Don’t. Don’t start sayin’ shit like that. Makes it sound like you’re-“ He exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut.
“I can’t fuckin’ do this, alright? I know I can be an ass, and I know i’m not the best at sayin’ it, but…I need you.”
Simon looked down at you. You weren’t moving.
His time spent waiting for medvac to arrive was a blur. He held you tight, begged you not to leave him even though he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not you could hear. And when the medics did finally show up, they practically had to wrench your limp body out of his grip.
He had to take a separate transport back to base. he sat alone and stared at his hands, watching your blood slowly dry.
——————
Simon lurked outside the door to your hospital room like- well, a ghost. When the doctors finally deemed you well enough to take visitors, he was at your side, like a loyal dog lying at its master’s feet. He held your wrist in a loose grip the entire time he waited for you to wake up, his thumb pressed against your pulse point so that he could be sure your heart was still beating.
It felt like ages that he waited for you. He didn’t even know quite how long he did, actually. He only left your side once, and that was for a shower in freezing water where he scrubbed his skin raw because he was unable to stop seeing the red covering it.
When you finally stirred beneath him, Simon thought he was dreaming. He stared at you with a mixture of disbelief and blind hope, and then you finally opened your eyes. After days, he finally felt like he could exhale. He let himself fall forward, his head coming to rest on your shoulder as he shook ever so slightly.
“God…don’t you ever do that to me again, got it? Thought i’d lost you.”
You reached up and started to rub circles into his back, choosing not to mention the fact that your hospital gown was damp with tears.
“Simon, I-“
He shushed you, rolled up his mask and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple.
“You made it, that’s what matters. You made it back t’ me.”
“And I always will.”
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slutt4ellie · 19 hours
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Hearts Over Hierarchy
Loser!Ellie x Popular!Reader
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Do opposites really attract?
Summery : When you run into a girl who rarely makes acknowledgment she even exists, there’s something that undoubtedly draws you to her..and a spark is created.
Warnings -> / Weed usage / Reader is confused about her feelings? / Ellie’s also confused about her feelings (ig?) / Just full loser Ellie / Really brief Skater!Ellie / eventual smut (probably) / fluff / tension / Little bits of smau / Toxic friendship / (Lmk if I missed anything else!)
WC: 4.8k (longest fic i’ve ever wrote!)
(Not proofread!)
DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸 - (takes like 2 seconds 🩷)
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(Ellie)
The loud buzzing of Ellie’s alarm shoots her eyes open and her body halfway up. “F-fuck” She grumbles under her muffled voice. Running her right hand down her face.
Ellie grabs the alarm rested on her left bedside table and she’s finally met with the time 9:36am. “Oh fuck” Ellie says quickly stands up out of her single bed, planted in the corner of her single bedroom dorm. Classes start at 9:45. She has a total of 9 minutes to get dressed, leave her dorm, and run onto campus. Which has her leading to the fact there’s almost 0 fucking way she’s making it on time.
Since Ellie’s already up and out of her bed she runs to her dresser to throw on a pair of boxers and a sports bra which is almost instantly covered by “clean” sweat pants and a nike hoodie. It didn’t smell bad so it was fine!
4 minutes, it only took Ellie 4 minutes to get changed and grabbed her skateboard. She also glances over at the time as it now reads now reads 9:40. So this means her time isn’t “horrible” I mean getting ready in 4 minutes is sorta impressive, at least in her mind? Plus campus shouldn’t take that long, as long as she’s fast.
Ellie grabs her skateboard and leaves her dorm quickly running down the stairs, having basically 0 time to wait around and sit there like a duck for the elevator. And as soon as she’s met with concrete she’s off.
The reason why Ellie being late is such a fucking hassle is because she’s already been late a fair share of times building a reputation for it, when she walks into class and shit it doesn’t go without dirty looks. But it’s a new school year, so she’s tryna live by the corny ass saying “new year new me!” and actually not miss half the classes like last term.
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(You)
You’re up early, 8:00 to be exact. You quietly leave your bedroom trying not to wake up the rest of your sorority sisters as you tiptoe through the halls. And just as you thought you were clear, a pair of blue eyes are met with yours.
Emily your best friend since freshman year. You two were like glue through high school, nothing could separate the two of you, sure you had fights and disagreements but nothing seemed like it could break the bond between you two..
As you meet her blue eyes you quickly notice her lips turning into a light smirk. “Why the fuck are you tiptoeing like we’re in a fucking Tom and Jerry episode?” You let out a pity laugh and smile “Oh ha ha…! Maybe because i’m nice and I didn’t wanna wake up all you guys?”
Emily smiles right back at you. “Why are you up so fucking early, thought your class started at 9:45?” You nod your head agreeing with her statement. “It does. I just wanted to be on top of it you know!” Emily shakes her head. “No I don’t fucking know? I don’t wake up a full hour and 45 minutes before my classes.”
You smile, you could ask her why she’s up but you already know her class starts at 8:30 (ew.) so going through more questions seems unethical. “Well!” You trail off then pick back up where you ended. “I need to have a shower sooo” Emily nods and goes back to her room “Yeah yeah!”
꧁✵★✵꧂
The steam fills your bathroom and the air is still warm from your lingering shower.
It was weird today. You don’t usually feel nervous for school, I mean you knew people, people knew you. There was literally nothing for you to feel even the slightest bit of tenseness. Yet it was still just there.?
Your just blaming it on basic nerves, you’re not really “excited” to get back into the grove of school, get a ton of work in before due dates which are are way to fucking fast. But either way you knew you had to suck it up so you pushed yourself out those doors and into your car.
Right on time 9:30. It should only take 10 minutes to drive onto campus and that leaves you with about 5 minutes before the lecture starts. At least that’s what you fucking planned.
But just to your luck. There was an incident, nothing serious. Just ending up backing up the roads. And any fucking other day you wouldn’t have really cared. But you really could not afford to be late on your first day back. You wanted to make sure you’re on top of everything, and the walk of shame into the classroom is probably one of the worst things person could every fucking experience.
Once you make it on campus you speed walk through the halls cutting through people just trying to get to your door. Then everything will be fine and normal, you won’t have to worry about how stup-
A hard thud goes straight into your back
You heard about 3 things fall flat on the ground none of the things being yours. And as shitty as it seems, you were genuinely considering walking away just to get to fucking class..
You’re not a complete dick and you were raised better. So this leads you to reluctantly turn around and your met with? Well you don’t exactly know, she looks familiar but maybe she’s a year younger so you don’t often see her. She has brunet- no, auburn hair, green eyes, and freckles that go all around her face. She looks familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.
You look down and notice a binder, a now slightly cracked phone and skateboard which finally you make the decision to crouch down. The auburn hair girl is mumbling a bunch of sorry’s “F-fuck that’s on me. I-i’m like super late? So I was looking down and sh-“ You cut her off and shake your head picking up her phone and binder as she picks up her skateboard. “You’re good..Fuck I’m late too.” You chuckle looking at her as you stand up, quickly handing her the items she dropped on the ground.
You give out your hand to shake “I’m-“ and as your about to say your name, you’re cut off by her voice “N-no I know you, you sat in front of me last term” You don’t know what really led you to say the next part but what else were you going to say?? You didn’t notice her once, lying seemed like a better approach. “Right! Um what was it…A- no H?” You notices how her eyebrows furrow, the fact you definitely don’t know her name is becoming apparent.
“I-uh Ellie” She shakes your hand.
“Yeah! I was getting there!” You smile looking back at her before talking again.
“We’re you?” She tilts her head talking in a tone laced with a joking sound..just from her demeanour alone you can tell she was kidding.
“I was..” You shift your gaze down to her lips then back up. You weren’t trying to be weird or anything, you just did it on instinct which now on the contrary seems a tad bit creepy since this is literally your first time even talking to her.
Once you meet her eyes again you nervously cleared your throat and starting talking once again. “Well what room are you!”
Ellie notices the quick change of subject and she nervously shakes her head “U-uhh fuck 217 I think…?” You nod and look at her “Fuck, okay shit me too?” Your voice stops then picks back up “Want to walk?”
Ellie perks up and nods. It kept playing in the back of her mind why the fuck you were talking to her. Ellie wasn’t popular, not your level of popularity. Everyone knew you. So the fact you were standing in front of her, talking to her. She was almost confused. Yet she wasn’t complaining..
It only took a few minutes before you reached the classroom door, as you check your phone you see you’re a bit late. Nothing to complain about, it’s only 9:47 so who cares..?
When opening the doors your eyes lock with the seats in the back left corner, there open, and no one is sitting in them. You look at Ellie who seems nervous.
Little do you know in her mind she’s wondering where the fuck she’s going to sit.
The only single seats are in the middle of like 5 fucking people.
Once you notices her eyes are scanning the room and her whole face is plastered with a nervous expression you nudge her lightly.
“Wanna sit over there” You point your finger and her eyes quickly follow it.
She seems confused. Like her brain just did a 360 but she stutters over her words when talking back to you. “Y-you wanna s-sit together?”
“Yeah?” You smile and let out a chuckle.
“R-right! Yeah- Yeah we can sit over there.” She smiles and nods looking at you.
As you sit down your phone buzzes in your left pocket not wasting much time to pull it out. There’s one message Emily. Asking if you made it okay and stuff. Which leads to a mini conversation.
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You couldn’t help but feel almost icked out? Emily’s not usually rude so her response was weird, and out of character. You wanted to believe maybe she was making a statement or something but you replied regardless.
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She was being so strange, like not her usual self. Which lead your eyebrows to furrow and you were abo-
“You okay?” Ellie’s voice says softly probably noticing the fact your eyebrows are furrowed and your face now showing clear signs of annoyance.
“O-oh yeah!” you reply now embarrassed as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “Just one of my friends, i’m good though!”
Ellie nods and smiles. “Okay, just wanted to make sure?”
You haven’t really met anyone like Ellie. I guess other then Emily? But it still took months to feel comfortable with her. With Ellie it seems almost easy? Like fast?
Your whole friend group is popular. Which wasn’t horrible? The benefits of being popular is nice? Sorta.. But unfortunately half of your “friend group” is fake.
Talking behind peoples back kinda fake.
You tried not to let it bug you though, you had people in your friend group you obviously loved, so you would just stick in that crowd.
But there was always some anxiety which came with it. Like you didn’t know if things you said would get passed around, so when talking to Ellie, knowing nothing had the chance of somehow going to anyone, else it was refreshing.
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The class was finally fucking over and you packed up your laptop and papers.
As you were about to leave you said a quick bye to Ellie trying to be respectful. You didn’t wanna ask for her number because you didn’t want to come across as weird, you two just met? So that could wait?
As you turned around there was a quick “wait!” which was clearly from Ellie.
You just turned around trying to read her expression but as you were she cut off your train of thought. “C-can I uh get your number! I was thinking we could maybe study or something. This math s-shit is like kicking my ass” After her sentence there was a dry awkward chuckle. The fact you didn’t immediately respond worried her
Did she come off as weird?
To pushy?
You’re popular why the fuck-
“Yeah!” You smile walking back over to her.
“Are you busy right now? We can go back to my place and study if you want” You say not breaking eye contact.
Ellie quickly breaks the eye contact handing you her phone before she clears her throat. “W-no! no i’m not busy, right now is good actually” Her voice cracks in the middle of the sentence leading her to clear her throat once again.
You grab her slightly cracked phone and nod..
“K cool, it’s not a long drive and my cars out in the front lot.”
In a car
With you.
Great!
꧁✵★✵꧂
Saying the car ride is awkward is an understatement? Reason number one, you don’t know what to say because you literally just met Ellie.
I mean you’re alright on small talk but what the fuck do you say to someone you met a solid 2 hours ago?
And on the other hand Ellie is Ellie.
She can’t pick up on small talk for the life of her. So when you finally speak it almost feels like a blessing and a curse.
“Sorry about you phone?” You say, both hands still on the steering wheel as you drive.
“Huh?” Fuck this is awkward.
“Your phone, it’s cracked. Sorry?” You say a smile cracking.
“I ran head first into your bag I’m pretty sure that’s on me” Ellie chuckles looking at you as you drive.
“I guess, but maybe if I was walking faster it wouldn’t have happened!” You say glancing over at her before you turn your eyes back to the road.
Ellie’s face turns a light pink as soon as you made split eye contact with her. She’s silently now thanking ever fucking god in the universe that you turned your head before you could notice.
“Maybe but I think that was a sign I shouldn’t walk with my head down” Ellie let’s out a slight laugh.
The silence falls once again neither of you knowing what to says.
“D-“
“Sor-“
Both of speak at the same time a dry chuckle coming from both your lips.
“You go.” Ellie says nodding.
“I was just going to say sorry for not noticing you?” You say clearing your throat anxiously.
“What do you mean?” Ellie says tilting her head still looking at your side profile.
“Like- I sat in front of you for months you know?.. just the fact I didn’t noticed you makes me feel like an egotistical prick?” You say rubbing the back of your neck with your left hand.
Ellie shakes her head at your response. “No! Fuck I barley talked, trust me, you not noticing doesn’t make me have hard feelings” Ellie says quickly, she doesn’t want you to feel guilty for anything.
You just smile at her response and nod. “What we’re you going to say?” She quickly talks “Just gonna ask do you get what the fuck is going on in class”
You quickly laugh and shake your head “Fuck no! I’m actually so ass at math your gonna have to walk me through it.” Ellie smiles and nods. “What makes you think i’m gonna be good at it!” She says with a chuckle.
“Well you have to be good at it because we’re official study partners!” You say before nodding your head. “Official??” Ellie smiles
“Oh yeah, official” You nod and continue nervously. “We’re uh here!” You park the car in front of your sorority.
“I never been to a fucking sorority” Ellie says getting out of the car with her backpack in hand. “No?” You say looking at her. “Nah” She shakes her head “They feel cult-ish?” She laughs causing you to smile and look at her “So you’re joining my cult then?”
“Guess soo” She drags out her ‘so’ dramatically before walking to the two big white doors which leads into the sorority house.
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You and Ellie studied for a few hours. Looking outside the sky was now dark. Rather then the bright blue it shined before.
You guys studying was basically just an excuse to talk, you got to know a lot about each other. Ellie opened up to you, you opened up to her.
You haven’t ever had a friendship where you got so comfortable so fast. It’s like the fact you guys met a solid few hours ago, it was completely disregarded. It’s like you connected so fucking fast.
You learned Ellie had two close friends Dina and Jesse. They didn’t go to the same school as you and her, instead they went to one about 30 minutes out. You “learned” she’s painfully shy, which you already got the message as soon as she ran into you.
She let it slip she actually debated talking to you last term but you seemed extremely intimidating which you laughed at. But she was standing her ground, saying like you gave off a bit of scary vibes.
“Okay scary?” You replied laughing
“Scary!” She says looking at you. Both of your guys studying papers are far from filled out, almost completely empty. But to be fair that’s the last thing on your mind.
“I need one fucking example from when I was being ‘scary’” You say defensively looking at her. The two of you are crisscrossed on your queen bed a bit to close considering how much space the both of you had. Both of your knees touching.
“K well- I don’t have a fucking time list of all the times I thought you seemed scary!” Ellie says shaking her head looking at you.
Your hand instinctively falls on her knee “I’m asking for ONE example!” You made sure to emphasize the word one. To point out it was really fucking easy.
Ellie’s whole face heats up and she feels like her body’s on fire causing her to stutter over almost ever other word “I-I d-don’t know l-like one t-time I heard you talking about h-how you were ‘gonna murder him’” She says chuckling to mask the nervousness that’s coursing through her veins.
You try to recall when you said this, it suddenly clicking “Okay wait! No there’s context!” You chuckle and now both of you are closer. It’s like each time a sentence is said, you’re moving further in.
“What fucking context could there be!” Ellie spits out laughing, which causes you to laugh harder.
“I was talking about some dick who used one of my friends!” You laugh your head falling onto Ellie’s shoulder.
“I guess that’s fair?” Ellie’s voice gets quieter. You can her heart beat which to say it’s fast. That’s would be an understatement.
You pull your head off her shoulder and look at her. Her face is pretty pink and you feel like you can ever little detail that revolves around her face. One thing about seeing ever detail, it had a result of your faces being mere inches from each others.
You don’t even know what the fuck led you to do this but you slowly guided your left hand to cuff Ellie’s cheek which now has the both of you to instinctively lean in.
Ellie does the same, manly following your lead as her hand also goes onto your cheek and now your noses brush against each other.
And just as your lips were about to touch a knock hits right against your door.
You and Ellie both quickly flinch back clearing your throat nervously.
You get up faster then her and the person behind the door is no other then Emily. You hadn’t texted her since the whole weird ass messages she sent a few hours ago.
Ellie’s thoughts are now going all over the place. Because you two almost just kissed, a knock breaks it up..and now there’s a girl who in her mind, is way better looking!
Ellie doesn’t wanna think it, but the fact you might have a girlfriend is lurking in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised to say the least.
“Hey” Emily says eyeing Ellie who is now putting her papers back into her backpack nervously, her hands fumbling over each sheet..
“Hi..?” You say looking at Emily. She’s eyeing Ellie with a look you haven’t noticed before. And as you were going to say something along the lines of “Do you need something” but Emily’s voice talks over your thoughts.
“Can we talk” She says now meeting your eyes.
“I mean I have someone ove-“ But before you can finish your sentence Ellie intervenes. “It’s- It’s fine i’m heading out anyway. You know it’s dark..? So?”
“I- uh, alright. You want me to drive you?” You say looking at Ellie which she almost instantly shakes her head “I’m not tryna be a burden i’ll just skate back, my dorms on campus…so i’ll uh, i’ll be chill..” Ellie says grabbing her skateboard which was planted in your room. Right after Ellie grabs her skateboard she already is almost out of the door. But you quickly talk.
“Just text me when you get to your dorm, so I know you got back safe and shit.” You say softly.
And just like that she’s gone, and your standing awkwardly in a room with Emily. When the front door finally shuts she got the sudden urge to talk. “Ellie?”
You nod confused. “Uh- yeah..? We were just studying…”
Emily nods looking at you. “Why though?”
“Sorry..?” You say now even more confused then you were previously.
“Like why hang out with her?” Emily says looking at you.
You think she’s joking so you laugh sarcastically “Fuck off?”
“I’m being for real, Williams, she’s like weird dude... That’s literally all anyone talked about when she was in my class.” Emily now chuckles and you shake your head.
“She’s not even weird?” You say defensively. “Have you talked to her?”
Emily shakes her head fast “I don’t wanna fucking talk to her?? Like I said she’s weird.”
You’ve never seen Emily act so blatantly rude, like she had her own opinions but she knew whether or not she should announce them. Plus! She’s never even met Ellie yet she’s judging her so easily with no second thought. You tried to push it behind you, trying to end the conversation with a quick “I gotta go to bed so. We can talk later.”
Emily scoffs “Great! Now you’re fucking being weird!”
“Im not even being weird! You’re just being rude, i’m not gonna listen you talk shit about someone you haven’t even had a conversation with!”
Emily just shakes her head “I’m hardly talking shit shit. I’m just saying what I heard, fuck.” The fact she’s trying to justify her shitty behaviour and actions just makes you more annoyed.
“K great talk Emily. I gotta get sleep” You say before shutting the door with a hard slam as Emily gets out of your room.
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It’s been a few weeks since that whole situation, Emily’s been okay? She apologized and shit but everything is still a bit tense?.. Like she lets out mini sighs when you say your going to hang out with Ellie.
You assumed this was because maybe she felt left out, but every time you even attempted to ask her she always shook her head and replied with “Eh sorta busy with homework”
So you dropped in, she was clearly going through some weird ass phase with you new friendship and you just wanted her to push through with it. You didn’t feel like guiding Emily through it all.
And then on the other hand
Ellie
neither of you mentioned what happened in your room that night, or what almost happened? It wasn’t relevant, some friends almost kiss! You two almost kissed…? And it was nothing important.
Not something to jeopardize your new friendship. So you dropped it. And you internally prayed she would too.
Ellie on the other hand. She was thinking about the moment constantly, like it was a virus infiltrating every single free fucking thought she had. She doesn’t know if the blue eyed girl was your girlfriend, but at the end of the day she didn’t wanna push the subject. You hadn’t talked about it so it wasn’t something she was willing to bring up. Seemed better to drop it!
And here you are, laying down on your bed extremely bored with nothing to fucking do. Your mind was just wondering, thinking about class, school, Elli-
There’s buzzing coming from your bedside table and you quickly grab you phone.
Ellie.
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You laughed at your phone. Ellie’s jokes were actually so bad it made them funny. You kept texting her no plan of stopping, but then she tells you she has a little something!
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You smile at her messages quickly following up by closing your phone. You didn’t waste time to grab you car keys quickly leaving your sorority house.
��✵★✵꧂
The car ride wasn’t all that bad, it was nice knowing that you’ll get to be with Ellie again. Plus it was literally only 10 minutes so when you get there you quickly park and rush to the campus dorms.
As you go into the building you take the left to the elevators, shortly entering before you click floor 2.
As it stops and the doors open and you lead yourself to Ellie’s dorm which you’ve now been in a few times.
After knocking it literally doesn’t take long before she answers..her hairs messy, a few strands down her face and she gives you a quick smile. One thing you instantly noticed was the strong scent of weed that exits her room. “You’ve been busy” you say sarcastically giving her a quick smile.
Her eyes are red and she’s clearly faded. “Soooo busy!” She says sarcastically before it’s followed by yet another smile.
You go into her room and sit on her little single bed that’s planted right in the corner of her bedroom.
She passes you an already lit joint which you take a drag from.
“I wanna ask you something?” Ellie says as she takes the joint back.
You nod letting out a short “hm?”
“You obviously don’t have to say yes” she starts dragging her words a mix of nervousness and being high.
“Okay..?” You say nodding, you don’t know what she’s gonna ask but either way you’re nervous.
“Jesse and Dina, they rent cabin every year. And like my not tryna really third wheel so I was wondering…if maybe like-?” Ellie says shifting her gaze down into her lap.
“When is it?” You ask looking at her.
Ellie’s almost surprised you didn’t immediately turn it down so she quickly clears her throat. “Fuck sorry- It’s in a week. You don’t have to com-“
“Yeah I’ll come?” You say, the high now finally clicking in. Ellie’s heart is skipping right now but she quickly pushes it down.
You two are fucking friends. Just friends.
“Sick. O-okay cool. I’ll just like text you everything you’ll need and shit. And it’s like an hour drive so me, you, Jesse and Dina can all just like fucking drive together.”
“Okay cool!” You smile.
You and Ellie. Are going to a cabin together.
Nothing to be nervous about…!
———————————————————
A/N -> Hii! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I already have a full plot layout for the second one.
This might only be two parts simply because I might be able to fit everything I want with enough detail in just a singular part.
I plan on adding some angst in the next chapter ☹️ (so ig be ready for that!)
I also wanna really emphasize Emily is not homophobic! 😭
I was reading some of this chapter and it sorta seemed implied she was at least a little homophobic, calling Ellie “Weird” and shit, but it’s not because Ellie gay! I’m pretty sure most people might be able to clue on why she’s not to fond of Reader and Ellie’s ‘friendship’ but that’ll be for the next chapter.
I hope you enjoyed!
Taglist : @bready101 @onlinelesbo @amberputh @seraphicsentences @a-little-bit-of-everybody @zoehxnji @cyb3rd0nguh @graviewaviee
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kolsmikaelson · 3 hours
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AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…
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NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me
WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!
REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀
WORD COUNT — 1.6k
join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post
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None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch. 
You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. 
“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground. 
Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out. 
“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”
For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there. 
“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. 
“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again. 
Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine. 
“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger. 
“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.
At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it. 
He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before. 
I want him to join.
You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment. 
“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question. 
Almost. 
“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more. 
“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him. 
Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat. 
The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good. 
Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay. 
“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said. 
“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear. 
“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him. 
“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly. 
Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod. 
“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”
The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art. 
They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 
At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock. 
Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak. 
“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing. 
“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art. 
“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again. 
“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence. 
“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’
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myhaikyuuacademia · 12 hours
Text
Totally Fake | Ant Vaughn x reader (Heartbreak High) ||
This is officially a series haha, trying to make it slowburn-ish but let's see if i can hold myself back
Fake dating, fem!reader
@foxxyhun
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Thankfully you had managed to get Ant’s number by Friday, not so thankfully you spent all day chatting with him about stupid, irrelevant stuff and Not about what your gameplan was going to be. And if, IF, you were actually going to the party later this evening, he’d probably be too wasted to talk about it anyway.  Which means SLUTS was the last chance you had with him still sober and not hungover. Except you had no idea how to go about it, especially without drawing the attention of your friends who had been watching you like hawks all week. You were the first one in the classroom, anxiously ripping your notebook paper into tiny shreds while thinking about all the logistics. You didn’t get very far when you sensed someone sitting down next to you. “What did the poor paper do to deserve that?” Ant asked amusedly. “Wrong place, wrong time.” You grimaced and shrugged, immediately stopping and throwing all the paper shreds into your pencil case. “Oh no, don’t stop because of me, I’m sure it deserved it.” He joked before settling in his seat. “You don’t wanna sit next to your friends?” You asked, with a nod to the table they usually sat at. “Nah, I’d rather sit with my girlfriend.” He said casually. You didn’t feel very casual as you choked on your spit. God how embarrassing. It took you a minute to calm down, Ant worriedly asking if you were okay, and offering you some of his water, which you declined with a hand gesture as you were starting to calm down.  “Sorry, sorry, I’m fine.” You coughed out. “Actually, that’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” He looked at you, almost disappointed, “You’re backing out?” He assumed. “What? No!” You hurried to say. “I wanted to talk about lining up our stories and everything, ground rules and stuff, you know?” Relief flooded his face, “Ah, okay gotcha!” He seemed much happier. The class was slowly filling up and you were dreading the moment your friends would enter. “Well I already told pretty much everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” He added, catching you completely offguard as you watched the doorway waiting for the inevitable arrival of your friends. “Oh.” Surprised you turned your head to look at him. “Okay.” You added after a second. “What about your mom?”
“Nah, not her yet. But like, Spider and Dusty.” He clarified. Your face felt warm. “Did you tell them it was fake too?” You leaned in closer to whisper it, now that the class was almost full. “No.” He grinned at you conspiringly. You grinned back at him, his answer, and the way he looked at you, making your whole body tingle. “Oh. My. God.” Darrens dramatic voice came from opposite the table. “You two totally ARE together.” Amerie beside them looked satisfied with herself, while Quinni stimmed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. They sat down at your table while Ant put an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah, so what?” He asked. Your face was burning, as was the parts where his arm touched you. Darrens mouth wide agape, while Quinni looked just as excited as before. “Oh my god, y/n, that’s so cute!! Congrats!” She said, happily, but after a second she looked a little less happy and a little more confused. Disappointed, even. “But why didn’t you tell us?” She asked. “Thrill of a secret relationship I bet.” Amerie added, feeling much cooler than she actually was. “But really, him?” Darren pointed at Ant. Wow rude. Your brows furrowed and you leaned into the boy next to you a little more without noticing. “What do you mean? You don’t think he's cute?” Trying to paddle back Darren stuttered out something a long the lines of, “No, that’s not what I mean, I just, I didn’t think he was your type is all.” “well, to be fair, we never knew what her type was.” Quinni added. “She never told us who she was crushing on, or what she liked in a guy, or girl.” You nodded, she was telling the truth, you usually kept things like that to yourself. “Well, I for one, am happy for you two, though I totally didn’t get any vibes when I was asking for a slap band earlier this week.” Amerie said, crossing her arms. She sounded accusing, like she was about to interrogate the two of you, when thankfully Miss Obah asked everyone to pay attention and started class. Ant didn’t take his arm off your shoulder the whole time.
When he finally did, after class ended, you couldn’t suppress your pout. Logically, you understood it was so both of you could pack your things, but this whole thing didn’t feel very logical, no matter how hard you tried. So instead, once both of you had finished, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers with his. Still slightly pouting. He looked down at you and laughed, “What now?” “I think she’s upset you took your arm off of her.” Darren, eagle-eyed gossip lover they are, supplied. “Oh, really?” Ant seemed surprised and looked at you for confirmation. “Yeah, kinda.” You mumbled embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled before leaning in close and whispering in your ear. “I’ll touch you all you want at the party later.” Your face was beet red. “Ant!” You whisper shouted, scandalized and wide-eyed. He just tugged you along with him, towards the school exit. “They’re so cute together.” You overheard Quinni say to Amerie and Darren behind you. “Something’s fishy.” Both of them replied in unison. You ignored it, keeping going with Ant. “What now?” You asked once outside the school gate, still holding his hand. Refusing to be the one to let go, actually. “Well, I have some time before the party starts, which, you totally are going to right?” He asked in such a way that you felt a no would break his heart, so you just nodded. How come you are immune to peer-pressure when it was your friends but not when it was the guy you’ve been fake-dating for less than a week. “Great! Well, wanna hang out until then?” You smiled. “Sure!! Oh, we can talk about the logistics of it all, like when did we even start dating and what church do I go to? Or is that even something that’s important to your mother?” You dragged him along, totally rambling at this point about all the different things you had to decide on for the story to be foolproof. When you turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something, you noticed the way he was smiling at you. “Oh, what? Am I overthinking?” You questioned out loud. “No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.” He still looked at you in a way you had trouble deciphering. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t talk a lot. Usually. But also we haven’t really spoken before this week so…” You trailed off. “Hmmh, yeah, but we’ve been in the same year for a while now.” He said, before turning back to look at the way ahead. “You usually only talk when spoken to.” Oh. He had noticed that? He had noticed you? Before you ever talked to him? “Oh, um. I guess that’s right.” You squeezed his hand subconsciously. “I like hearing you talk.” He squeezed your hand back. “Plus, you’re so smart, I wouldn’t have thought about half of the things you mentioned. Maybe we should write it all down.” You nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”
“Woah, your room is awesome.”  Ant was currently walking through your room looking at all the little trinkets that were… everywhere frankly. Picking them up and putting them down again. “Haha, thanks.” You sat on the edge of your bed, not knowing what to do with yourself as you watched him. “Woah, you like Marvel?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Uh yeah, I love it.” You laughed. He put the action figure down and turned around, very serious all of a sudden. “This calls for a movie night.” He explained. You grinned. “Sure, I’m always up for a movie.. But let’s talk business first.” You scooched to the side and patted the spot next to you. He groaned dramatically and walked over before sitting down. “Why does this feel like homework all of a sudden.” Your face scrunched up at that. “Sorry. But this is just so our story doesn’t fall apart.” He turned to look at you, head hanging to the side. “You really think it’s necessary?” “Well. Yeah.” You reply. “What if your mom asks us how we met, our what our first date was, and we say different things. Better to be prepared.” He pouts playfully, “Well, fine I guess.” In the end you agree on simple things, you met at school, duh, and worked a project together, after which you became friends, before Ant asked you on a date to the diner, and then a second date to the movies, before asking you to be his girlfriend. Easy enough. He said it was okay not to go to church as long as you were still acting Christian enough in front of his mom. Whatever that means. The reason he was only introducing you now was because you could disprove what was written on the map. You were scared of meeting his parents, so it had taken you a while to gather the courage, and he wanted to be sure before bringing a girlfriend home. Easy. Plausible. Good story. Boring, but believable. In the end you wrote it all down, twice, one copy for you and one for him, just in case you needed it. “Can we finally watch a movie?” He whined as you gave him his paper. “I don’t know, the party is soon, and I don’t know about you, but I definitely have to get ready. You think we can manage to squeeze a movie in?” He nodded, completely convinced. “How long can it take to get ready.” Not believing this was an issue. “Oh buddy…If only you knew.” You patted his shoulder before getting your remote and turning on the tv. It was difficult, at first, to concentrate on the movie, when he was so close and warm, shoulder against shoulder, and legs touching. Your body felt on fire. After a while he wrapped his arm around you too, pulling you ever so slightly closer, if that was even possible.
“Oh! I love this part.” He pointed towards the screen with the hand not resting on your hip. “What? No way, that’s my favorite part.” You looked up at him excitedly. “No way!” He turned to look at you too. You nodded emphatically. “You’re so cool.” He gave you a squeeze. He turned back towards the screen, and you did too, after staring at him for a little while longer. In the end, he ended up staying, watching you get ready, since there was no time for him to go home before Dusty’s band performed. “Whoa, wait, what is that?” You were about to put on your fake lashes, putting glue on the strip when Ant’s head popped up next to you, dangerously close to poking your lash with his finger. “My fake lashes.” You explained. “Your lashes are fake?” He turned to you, staring intensely into your eyes, inspecting your lashes. “No, well yes, sometimes. I have real lashes. The one you’re looking at right now.” You laughed. “But sometimes I put on fake lashes, which looks kinda-“ You  leaned towards the mirror to put your lashes on. “like this.” You said, leaning back to show him. “Oh my god that’s crazy.” He breathed out, totally stunned, which made you laugh even harder. After that he stayed next to you, watching you apply your makeup closely. “Hmmm..” You pursed your lips as you put the last thing in place. “I think that’s it.” You concluded.  Before you could even turn to the side to face him, his voice piped up as he asked: “Can you put some on me?” The request came unexpectedly, but you happily obliged. You opted for some chrome glimmery dark blue green ish, you didn’t really know how to describe it, glitter shadow to put on top of his eyelids. Dabbing it in softly, he leaned in closely and you could feel his breath on your skin. “Okay, try opening your eyes.” You requested softly, holding his chin in your hand and looking at him intensely, assessing your work. He opened his eyes hesitantly. Chewing on your lip you came to the conclusion that this look needed some black liner, so you added a line underneath his eyes on his waterline, dragging it out into a straight “wing”. A difficult job, with this being a sensitive area and Ant not used to having stuff put this close to his eyes. He kept squirming and blinking, but eventually you got the job done to your satisfaction. “This looks sick.” You say as you remove your hands from his face and lean back. Giving him time to admire himself in your mirror, you put away your brushes and powders and liners. “You want to do something to your hair too?” He turned to look at you at that. “Kinda.” You look on your phone to check the time, before grimacing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have time. Actually we really need to go if we wanna make it in time.” You stand up and hold your hand out to him, pulling him up from where he was sitting. Your friends were definitely going to give you shit about barely reaching out to them later.
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Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark
Summary:
To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?
Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?
Content warnings for this chapter: implied gambling addiction, weapons, implied violence
AO3 link: Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark (2275 words) by She_posts_nerdy_stuff
Chapter One - Jesper
Jesper was late. Again.
He ran out the door of the Slat, jacket half-pulled over his creased shirt and the second sleeve obstinately hiding from him as he rushed into the street. The staves were quiet enough at this time for his hurry to be noticeable, but he didn't have time to care about the strangers glancing at him. He glanced at his watch as he ran, almost tripping over the cobbles. Nine bells. What time had he fallen asleep? He didn’t remember getting back to the Slat, but judging by the exhaustion clinging to his bones it couldn’t have been all that long ago. Dammit, Jesper. He knew he shouldn’t have gone out last night; he knew it would only end up with him being late this morning. But here he was, once again, trying desperately to pass as someone with reasonable respectability as he flew into the university district.
He was more than out of breath by the time he reached the dean’s office, trying to straighten his jacket and smooth his hands over his shirt. It was a deeply boring outfit; a once-white button down and a brown jacket, but Jesper had to forgo his usual Barrel flash on the occasional visits he bothered to make to the university. That didn’t mean he didn’t add his own little flares, of course, but he’d been in too much of a rush this morning to concern himself with that.
“I should have a meeting scheduled,” he said, “Jesper Fahey?”
The receptionist looked him up and down disapprovingly, then opened the almost comically oversized diary sitting on her desk.
“You’re late,”
You don’t think I know that?
“Sorry,”
“He had to start the meeting after yours. Should be another five minutes, but then he has a space open. You can wait over there,”
“Thanks,” 
She made a non-committal ‘mm’ sound, turning back to her other papers. 
Jesper sat opposite the receptionist’s desk, fidgeting, eyes on the door. Why had the dean called him to this meeting? The note had been frustratingly vague, and he’d only seen it because he was coincidentally back at his term-address to collect some fresh clothes when it arrived. There were three more on the table that he’d already missed, so he decided he’d better make it to this one. Maybe they were kicking him out - he wouldn’t be surprised. At least then the decision would be made for him. But if he was expelled, would they somehow inform his father? Jesper shuffled unhappily in his uncomfortable chair.
Another minute passed before the door clicked open and two people emerged through it - the dean, a tall Kerch man in his late forties trying to hide the fact that he was clearly going bald, holding the door for a boy Jesper recognised from one of his classes. A mercher kid, someone had told him on their first day, as they watched the boy walk in and take a seat, something Van Eck. Had some sorta accident when he was a kid, been blind ever since. He looked much younger than Jesper, though he knew they must be about the same age, with soft features and angelic, ruddy curls floating around his head like gravity had taken a liking to him and given them a free pass. Jesper had to admit, he found the kid intriguing. Even in the lessons he’d shown up to, he had several times caught himself studying the boy from across the room and had to force himself to look away. Even if whatever-his-name-was didn’t know he was staring, it still felt rude.
“Thank you, sir,” he was saying to the dean as he slipped through the door, slender cane tapping the ground in front of him.
It was almost rhythmic, like a beat that was waiting for someone to add a melody. The dean had noticed Jesper, he could tell, but waited until the Van Eck kid had left the room before he said:
“Mr Fahey. You came,”
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, and then when a brief pause added: “And that I missed the previous meetings you scheduled. I, er, had a problem receiving mail,”
“I see,” he said, a little coolly, eyes flicking over Jesper, “Well, come in,”
Jesper sat in front of the desk, drumming his fingers in his chair, waiting to be told that he was expelled. But the dean just droned on and on, without the final hit ever seeming to come.
“The only class you’ve attended in the last month is Economic Principles for Business and Markets - and even for that you’ve only attended three lessons,” he was saying, when Jesper suddenly remembered he was supposed to be listening and quickly tuned in, “Perhaps we could change your course load to classes more similar to this one, see if that helps motivate you. Do you enjoy Economics?”
Jesper did not. He shrugged.
“Not particularly,”
“Then may I ask why it’s the only class you’ve consistently attended? - even if you do have twelve late marks in it across the year,”
It hadn’t really been a conscious decision. It was an afternoon class, twice a week, easy to get to at least one of them if he got himself together enough - late enough that he’d probably be awake, early enough that he probably wasn’t on a job or in a gambling den. 
“I have a partner project in that class,” he said, truthfully, “I don’t want to let anyone down,”
“Perhaps you should consider not letting yourself down, Mr Fahey,”
Saints, he didn’t hold anything back did he? Jesper shuffled.
“Who’s your partner for this project?”
“Helena Dentte,”
The dean nodded.
“I’m going to switch who you’re working with,”
Jesper wasn’t sure what good that was supposed to do, but he didn’t argue. Helena was nice enough, but she was infuriatingly motivated and it drove him slightly mad when she suggested they meet to study after almost every class - and she probably hated his guts for the curse he was to be partnered with.
“What about the rest of your course?” he glanced through the papers on his desk, “You haven’t attended Comparative Literature - Kerch and Zemeni Poetry since going once last month, your other classes longer,”
Jesper just shrugged again. He was sinking slowly but surely deeper into his chair.
“Not for me,”
“We should look at changing your classes around then. Stick with the business class, whatever’s keeping you there I want to preserve it. But think about what else you’d like to study. If not economics or literature, Mr Fahey, what are you interested in?”
Unwelcome answers offered themselves up in Jesper’s head. He shuffled.
“I don’t know,”
The dean wasn’t particularly impressed. He told Jesper to come back in a week, with at least an idea of what else he might like to study. Sure, Jesper thought, that’s gonna happen.
“I’m very glad you came to this meeting, Mr Fahey. It’s the first step in making a change, and I am only here to help you,”
Jesper mumbled something of a thanks by way of reply as he slipped out the door and slouched away down the corridor.
“Jesper,”
A girl melted from the shadows and appeared at his shoulder, making Jesper jump out of his skin. His hand flinched reflexively towards the revolver hidden in his jacket, but got no further because it only took half a second to see who was talking to him.
“Saints - Inej, you scared the life out of me,”
Inej said nothing for a moment. They walked down the corridor together, would have been shoulder to shoulder if it weren’t for the fact that Inej’s head only just reached Jesper’s shoulder. He’d known Inej Ghafa only a short while, since she’d joined the Dregs a few months ago, but he already doubted he was ever going to get used to the way she appeared and disappeared so quickly, so completely. Never mind any other spiders crawling around in the Barrel, Jesper hadn’t met anyone who could do what Inej could do - to simply erase herself like that, to only be seen when she wanted you to notice her. She was also probably the toughest person he knew - except maybe Kaz, though honestly he might be more scared of getting on Inej’s bad side. Then again, if this was Kaz’s good side maybe he shouldn’t push his luck.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, as they turned the corner.
“Take a wild guess,”
She watched him for a brief moment.
“You’re a student?”
She sounded surprised. That was probably fair.
“Supposed to be. Anyway, I might ask you the same question,”
“Kaz is angry,”
“Kaz is always angry,”
“Kaz is angry with you,”
Jesper shrugged.
“That’s hardly news, Inej. He send you here to get his money? I’ll have it by tomorrow,”
“We both know that’s not true, Jes. And he didn’t send me,” said Inej, frowning, “I came to talk to you, to say you should steer clear of him for a couple of days,”
Really? That bad? Jesper frowned. What had he done to piss off Kaz Brekker this time? 
Inej was studying him, her dark eyes roving slowly over him, her frown remaining intact. She wasn’t exactly what Jesper had expected when Kaz told him a girl from the Menagerie was going to be moving into the Slat, but he wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting. A broken wisp of a girl, he supposed. Inej wasn’t broken, though she’d clearly taken damage, and she could hardly be described as a wisp. Jesper had seen her fight more than enough times to trust that. 
Inej also had a particular skill for the disapproving look she could get to glitter in her eyes on command - or maybe Jesper just brought it out in her. She touched two fingers to one of the knives slung through her belt, murmuring something in Suli.
“Should you really be carrying those in here?” he asked.
Jesper wasn’t actually sure how many knives Inej had, but there must have been at least five on her person at any given moment. She shrugged.
“You have a revolver in your coat,”
“Yeah, in my coat,” he shook his head, “Not on show,”
Inej shrugged.
“Maybe I’m an arts student,”
“Why would an arts student be carrying a thousand knives?”
“Art, obviously,”
Jesper snorted.
“Obviously,”
They were almost outside.
“Just, you know, don’t get arrested,”
Inej smiled.
“I think you’re giving the stadwatch a little too much credit there,” her voice suddenly moved to Jesper’s other shoulder and he turned to try and see her, “Who could possibly arrest a Wraith?”
She was gone. It was broad daylight in a wide courtyard, and Inej Ghafa was gone. Jesper shook his head. Unbelievable. 
*
Jesper didn’t know exactly what he’d done to get on Kaz Brekker’s final nerve, but he wasn’t about to go and find out. He sifted through the piles of stuff stacked unhappily in his university dorm, trying to make enough space for the room to actually be liveable. When had he last slept on campus? Not recently. Maybe it was a good thing Kaz was mad at him, if it was going to keep him out of the Barrel for a few days. Maybe he could even look through the course catalogue, to keep the dean happy, and find out whoever else he was going to partner him up with for Business and Markets. Helena would probably be glad of the change. She could take her thousand and one notebooks to someone who might actually be able to contribute something. 
But why lie? Jesper was itching for a hand of cards. He lay on his back on top of the mattress, studying the ceiling and twisting one of his rings round and round his finger. Unless he snapped and ended up running into a den and just facing Kaz’s wrath, the rings he’d slept in last night were apparently the only flash he was going to enjoy for the next few days. What other clothes did he even have here? He didn’t remember seeing much else in the wardrobe when he came to grab these the other day. He should probably check. He’d do it in a minute.
The next thing Jesper remembered was waking up, jolting upright and almost whacking into the headboard. Damn, he really must have been exhausted. How long had he slept for? He was momentarily disorientated, fumbling for his watch and discovering that it was nearing twelve bells. The curtains were still open and the midday sun streamed through them, highlighting the dust floating through the air. Jepser sighed - just his luck, the single sunny day of the year Ketterdam would bother to grace them all with, and he had slept through most of the morning. He’d needed it though. 
Almost twelve bells. He could make it to his one o’clock class - what was it? Poetry, or something - if he got himself together. Or he could just lie here a little longer, watching the world go by outside his window. 
No. No, if he was here then he should go. He should at least try. 
It was his poetry class today - he checked the timetable shoved in the desk drawer - and it proved to be just as irredeemably boring as he remembered it. But he went. He took a notebook and the fountain pen his Da had given him when he got into university. He didn’t make any notes, but he took them with him. It was something. Sort of. 
He counted it, even if only to make himself feel slightly better.
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voxofthevoid · 2 days
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We're at Shibuya Swap Wednesday #9, and I still can't predict an end. Part 3 was largely unplotted when I started writing it, and I think I can see the end—and it's miraculously shorter than I anticipated—but let's see how the path there looks.
I didn't write a lot this week, so the fic is at 85k and halfway through Chapter 16. There's a fuckton of conversations in this part because I'm still reaping what I sowed in Part 1. Several bits were like pulling teeth, but I'm happy with the final shape. The following section is a goyuu reunion of sorts:
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Yuuji opens the door and steps into the dark.
His eyes don’t need an adjustment period; he’s always had good night vision. The tall figure standing stock-still, silhouetted by the sparse moonlight outside an open window, still makes him startle. A second later, two pools of radiant blue cut through the dark—Gojou’s open eyes, fixed right on Yuuji.
“Gojou-sensei,” Yuuji breathes.
“Hello, Yuuji,” comes the soft reply.
The door gently clicks shut behind Yuuji, almost making him jump. His heart is in his throat, and it stays right there as the seconds stretch on, held in place by reasons better and worse than a door closing on its own. On the opposite end, Gojou is still and unmoving. His features are blank, the shadows on his face made strange by the glow of his own eyes. Yuuji’s known for a while that Gojou’s eyes have their own fire, but he’s never seen them like this.
He’s never seen Gojou like this.
“Sensei,” Yuuji says, speaking in hushed tones on instinct, “I’m gonna turn the light on.”
“Go on,” is all Gojou says.
Yuuji gropes around the walls beside the door, and it’d be easier if he just looked, but he finds that he can’t take his eyes off Gojou. A part of him is afraid, not that Gojou will do anything but that he’ll melt into the shadows if Yuuji takes his eyes off him, vanishing like he was never here.
He finds the switchboard and promptly blinds himself.
“Shit,” he swears, slapping his hands over his eyes. He rubs the tears away, peering out from between his fingers and getting smarting eyes for his trouble. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” Gojou says, sounding amused; the familiarity of it makes something in Yuuji unclench.
He blinks and squints until the light don’t feel like it’s stabbing his eyes anymore, and then Gojou’s there in full color, eyes bared and hair down and smiling at Yuuji, as solid as a dream can ever get.
“Gojou-sensei,” Yuuji says helplessly, “you’re back.”
“I am. Miss me?”
“I—yes, I was—”
“Worried?”
“…Yeah.”
Gojou’s smile widens. It’s not really a nice expression, too sharp around the edges, but Gojou means these smiles. They’re real, even if they’re poised to cut.
“I’m not the kind of man,” Gojou murmurs, “you should worry about, Yuuji.”
“Yeah, well…” Yuuji shrugs. “Can’t help it, I guess. And it’s different this time.”
“Oh?”
“You were walking into a trap, weren’t you?”
“Oh?” Gojou repeats with an unholy amount of relish. “You really have been thinking about me.”
Yuuji fights down the urge to throw up his arms. “I just told you that!”
“So you did,” Gojou admits. “No need to worry about your dear teacher—I won’t be outmaneuvered twice by the same person. Once was enough. My pride won’t survive a repeat, and we’d hate that, wouldn’t we?”
“Uh, sure,” Yuuji says, not sure how to say Gojou’s pride isn’t what he’s worried about.
Gojou chuckles like he can tell anyway. “Your mother’s a wily bastard, by the way. I hope you haven’t inherited any of that. I quite like how straightforward you are. You’re not hiding some Machiavellian cunning under all that cute pink fluff, are you?”
“What?” Yuuji asks, his brain stuck on cute pink fluff.
“No.” Gojou tilts his head, humming. “No, you’re a different breed.”
“Okay?” Yuuji wrenches his attention back to the point. “How’d it go? Did you find them, did you—”
“I found the body,” Gojou answers. “Booby-trapped to hell, with the most innovative mix of barriers and seals I’ve ever seen. Maybe I should start teaching you those. See if you’ve got a knack for it. Genetics isn’t everything, but for sorcerers, it means something more often than not.”
Any other time, Yuuji would have leaped at the chance to learn more and get stronger, but right now, all he can focus on is—
“The body?” he asks.
Gojou blinks once; his eyes are glowing even in the bright light. “The brain was absent. The residuals led me on a wild goose chase for a while, but they didn’t lead to anything. I knew it wouldn’t. I was tracking that body’s cursed energy, you see. And I found it. It’s all I found. We should have killed them at Shibuya. But every version of you will be a sentimental fool, won’t you, Yuuji?”
Yuuji takes half a step back before forcing himself to stop. Gojou’s stare is a piercing thing, like twin lasers—hotter than the sun, with none of its warmth. Yuuji feels like it’ll sear off his flesh, chunk of cooked meat falling to the ground at his feet.
He can’t feel Gojou’s cursed energy at all.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuji says very gently, “about your friend.”
Gojou stills, somehow without moving a single muscle. Something seems to suck the air out of the room.
Yuuji smothers the urge to yank the door open and throw himself out of this room. It’s not real anyway. Yuuji doesn’t actually want to run away from Gojou. He’s not scared. It’s just that, sometimes, Gojou gets like this, all silent and still, and every animal instinct Yuuji has starts screaming. It happened with Sukuna too, the one time they met face to face, but Yuuji was too angry then to feel anything else, and it was only later, when the way his spine writhed as Gojou bore down on that volcanic curse felt oddly familiar, that Yuuji even realized that a part of him had responded the same way to that blood-and-bone domain and its vicious master.
With Gojou, there’s no anger to swallow everything else, and Yuuji’s left to grapple uncomfortably with the disconnect between his instincts and his feelings. It makes him feel guilty too. Gojou’s on a whole other level as a sorcerer, as a living being, but he’s still just a person. And he’s Yuuji’s teacher. Yuuji likes him; he worries about him. There’s something profane about any part of Yuuji reacting to Gojou the way it did to Sukuna, and Yuuji has a hundred reasons to want to get stronger, but one of them, close to the top of the list, is that he wants to bear the brunt of Gojou’s power without even a sliver of his soul squirming.
He takes a step closer to Gojou, not once looking away from the violent supernova of his eyes.
Something shifts in Gojou’s expression. It doesn’t soften, but it’s less blank, less alien.
“I’d ask who’s been telling tales,” Gojou murmurs, “but it doesn’t matter, hm? You should save your pity for the ones who matter, Yuuji. My old friend lost that right years ago.”
Yuuji…has no idea what to do make of that.
But he knows one thing. “It’s not pity, sensei. I just wish none of it happened to you.”
“And what would you know of what happened to me?”
Yuuji shrugs, trying and failing to shake off the discomfort layering his skin. “Not much. Just that your friend became a curse user and, uh, died. And then Kenjaku took his body.”
“That’s not all you know,” Gojou says with damning certainty. “Tell me how he died, Yuuji.”
Yuuji looks down at his feet for a moment, breathing in deep. Getting air into him still feel like a fight, and his heartbeat is echoed all over his body, from the skull to the soles of his feet. There’s something unnatural happening.
But he trusts Gojou.
Yuuji looks him in the eyes and says, “You killed him.”
“I did. Are you sorry about that too?”
“Yes, sensei.”
“What if I told you I didn’t even hesitate? He was my best friend, you know. The only one I ever had.”
Yuuji’s eyes smart again, his chest squeezing tight. “That must have felt terrible.”
Gojou blinks.
The air lightens.
There’s a long, heavy sigh, followed by Gojou slumping back against the open window, his entire torso supported by empty space. His eyes haven’t wavered from Yuuji or lessened any in intensity, but there’s a pout on his mouth that doesn’t suit the situation at all.
“Are you for real?” he complains.
“Uh, yes?”
“I don’t believe it. Come here, I need to pinch you.”
“What? I’m not doing that!”
“I’ll come there then.”
“No—eck.”
Yuuji didn’t even see Gojou move, but there are fingers pinching his cheek and a toothy grin filling his vision, and his instinctive struggling does down as he processes the new proximity, the rest of the world fading to make room for the warmth and size of Gojou’s body. He’s so close to Yuuji, their chests almost touching, and more and more of his features burn themselves into Yuuji’s vision. His jaw is a sharp curve, the kind you could cut yourself on, and the rest of his face isn’t any better, painfully pretty. Yuuji can’t help noticing that his lips are cracked, without a hint of their usual glossy sheen. It only becomes more obvious when Gojou’s impish grin eases up, settling into a quiet, crooked smile.
Yuuji stares at them for a very long moment, his mouth drying out to match Gojou’s lips.
He looks up. Radioactive eyes gleam a hot blue, threatening to swallow him whole.
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you ever think about how the gap between Mania and SM(F)S was almost (?) as long as the hiatus but so, so different in tone? so much better? anticipatory instead of afraid, maybe, is the difference. restful instead of resentful, maybe. just a part of life instead of a big deal. bc I've been thinking about it quite a bit
yeahyeahyeah i do think about this a lot like… they were the same length of time away from releasing music, sure, but the hiatus was a break they had no choice but to take, a separation so they didnt destroy themselves, each other, and therefore the entire band and joy for their music. it was steeped in such sorrow and agony for each of them in very similar yet different ways, they all suffered so badly being apart yet found themselves during the hiatus. and then during the break between mania and stardust, even before the pandemic and quarantine undoubtedly slowing their process, they spoke about wanting to slow down and take a break. this time, just because they had been doing so much for so long, because they wanted to take time to work on things both solo and together. any growing and finding themselves that they did happened Together, it was a time of such creation and therefore Joy for them like. literally as if the hiatus got mirrored oppositely, which will mean it never Was a hiatus, obviously, but like you said… restful, time apart, time to focus on the things and people they loved in a resorative way. and look at what was born of it— the era of so much healing and love and light
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thelien-art · 9 months
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First i must apologize I have a tendency to forget that tumblr - even when we're all 'on' - is not live interaction and additionally you can't actually read my mind 😅
This was in reaction to seeing your ... delightful?? .. new frog. In such a state. And I got nervous 😋🦀💖
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Annon... I´m gonna cry... I love you♡♡♡ you´re making me do happy jumps♡
And I understand fully what you mean about "reading minds" if you can call it that, we´re all there at times!
I hope this is you trying to get me to talk about my wonderful frog Kaj because that´s what I´m gonna do know XD
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This is Kaj - named after my second favorite show as a child - he´s 25 cm long, and he´s a treefrog, there didn´t stand which one but my best guess is a red eyed tree frog, he just doesn't have the blue stripes, he could also be a Agalychnis moreletii (Morelet's tree frog) but he doesn't have black eyes and Morelet´s are known for their black eyes (a nickname of theirs is black eyed frog).
He could also be an American green tree frog, but his feet are a bit too pigmented, and back a bit to light for that, although the eyes would match there.
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Actually he´s a woman as he has an ovary and oviduct (the blue stuff you can see below his urostyle) but I didn´t know that until I unpacked him, where I already had named him
Going with the idea he´s a Morelet (as that´s what he looks most like) he would be around 60mm (f-54 m-60/64)
Red eyed tree frog gets around 6/7 cm (f-7,5 m-5)
All in conclusion he´s a tree frog. Which kind of one? Karl.
And no, the crabs need not fear, he´s much too small to be of any danger in the wild, and my Kaj is made of plastic so he doesn't really jump or eat, unfortunately.
Although some crabs might want to watch out for the Goliath frog... (world's biggest frog at around 32 cm and 3.3 kilograms)
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universalsatan · 2 years
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can’t tell if i’m confusing wanting to look like almost stereotypically macho men or just being wildly attracted to them. or both i guess
#i mean i always used to say bi dilemma but im realizing this is mostly just gay now godbless. trans rights#for context. im thinking like. young harrison ford (i Know.; the reason im saying this is i remember Both my mom and dad acknowledging him#as the og Macho Man™️) and because it crossed my dash. jackles. but not really young jackles like s1 dean but matured jackles like more rece#it’s funny cause in practice. the person ive been pursuing (while Also an idiot. maybe i should just accept myself as morosexual at this#point) is actually. very effeminate HAHAHDHAHSJDHSJ#to the extent that my mom has thought he was gay in the past. i was talking about him to my sister and she asked if he was gay LMAO#which is hilarious because as far as i know (and ive known him for… almost 6 years ig? pined for almost 5). i’m Only aware that hes had a#crush on a girl ages ago. but this was also thru a secondhand source we’ve never actually talked about that#we probably should but we’re both idiots i have no idea how it’d be brought up#but in terms of effeminate. hm. he’s actually Really tall maybe over 6ft? and he Can have a deep voice. i think he can sing bass? but he#actually speaks in a higher register. god i wonder if he’s doing the opposite of me. who’s always consciously deepend my voice LMAO#he’s a HUGE plant enthusiast. HUGE. i dont Think he’s ND (or at least he doesn’t from what i can tell. I get vibes) but he straight up has a#plant fixation. knows so much about care. when he worked in greenhouses he learned the latin names for a good portion of them. i know this#isnt exactly ‘effeminate’ but he does all the gardening. oh and to add to it ig. i dont know HOW. he was NOT. irked by gore and blood???#when i explained to him what my potential job as a crime scene cleaner could entail??? but he cannot STAND bugs. he FREAJED OUT (over text)#at the mention of a spider. so of course. me being the 8yo boy with a playground crush. proceeded to tell him all my Fun Spider Encounters#lets see i think he also really loves to bake? ive seen these elaborate cakes (tp roll for covid. a fish) he’s made on insta. and there was#that one time he brought me those three most MOIST chocolate cupcakes with raspberry buttercream icing. i deadass ASCENDED to heaven.#food IS the way to a man’s heart btw.#oh yeah and the fact that i met him in the first place — well. i play oboe in ensembles. and he’s flute/piccolo. yeaHAHSHAHSHH#LMAO remembering that while he doesnt keysmash (i’ve started to around him. it’s mostly emojis bless his heart) he deadass called me ‘hun’#oh and the best part? i couldnt think kf what to watch. and he’s over here saying he doesnt watch ANYTHING. like bro how do u NOT. listen to#any music past 1900. OR OPERA EITHER. and NOT have any favorite movies/shows??? wh??? like. he deadass was like ‘unless [gardening channel#on youtube] counts’ like girl i am so in love#but yeah i was literally sitting there sounding like a pretentious film nerd bro i cant fuckin believe it. but i FINALLY wriggle it out of#him. because apparently he cant concentrate on most movies (valid.). the ones he CAN are cheesy chick flick comedies#saying that he can recite 90% of mean girls. thats his favorite movie#and he also mentioned like. legally blonde#and i have a feeling he almost was avoiding it in case i would judge him or whatever but ngl i honestly fell harder HAHSHSJAJDJAJ#fuck 30 tags but let’s just say. very effeminate compared to me. a full on Dad
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rubys-domain · 5 months
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i really have to motivate myself to finish the thelxie event fast or it's just going to end with no freminet on my alt account
#⇢₊˚⊹ 🩷∥ruby∥yo,ide yo !!#it's not that i hated the event per se#i'm just really not in a genshin mood these days#i reached a milestone irl,but that doesn't mean i can afford to relax and play a game for hours on end#which is how i prefer to play this game. i want to sit somewhere comfy and comb through the world with the interactive map#for combat players that might sound like the biggest slog of all time#but i think it's a nice,chill way to play. the world was created to be enjoyed after all#unfortunately i'm very susceptible to falling into “waiting mode”#so anything that registers in my brain as “time-consuming” gets put on the metaphorical top shelf (out of reach)#and then i can't bring myself to do anything that doesn't feel like i could be done with in 5 minutes#even though i almost always end up doing the “5-minute tasks” for hours. like scrolling through tumblr or youtube shorts and shit#there's also other reasons but i don't like talking about those much#suffice it to say that i'm in a weird place in my life rn where i can *technically* relax but i still feel like i can't#i've also been sleeping so much. to the point where it feels like my waking hours are being sacrificed for too much sleep#i really am getting older huh. it doesn't feel that long ago when i was a kid and had the exact opposite problem#tbh my current problem saddens me way more. i don't want to sleep any more than absolutely necessary#because then it feels like i'm sleeping my life away. it's almost surprising how shitty that actually feels#i feel like taking a fucking nap right now even. it feels crazy that this would bring me to tears but it does#it feels like my life didn't get any less pathetic. just pathetic in a different way
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autismserenity · 3 months
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know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!
hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.
I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.
It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.
Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.
It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.
(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."
Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.
Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.
People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.
(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.
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I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.
She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.
And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.
He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.
He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.
I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.
But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.
It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.
(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)
(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.
We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.
People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.
Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.
3,000,000.
Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.
Five times as many.
That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:
Here's a non-paywalled link to it:
https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates
Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:
Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.
You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.
They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)
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inbarfink · 1 year
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One common Undertale misconception that really frustrates me is when Sans is portrayed with a strong innate sense for RESETs and alternative timelines. Like, that he remembers the RESET timelines better than the other characters who only have occasional feelings of deja vu or even that he can sense when a timeline is RESET.
And that’s, like, almost the opposite of the actual text of the game. While pretty much every main character can have slightly-different dialogue in a Not-True-RESET, especially if the Player had previously befriended them, based on the idea that they have lingering memories/feelings from before the RESET - 
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Sans has no real dialogue changes based on this conceit. All of his changes are based around noticing Frisk has different reactions based on their memories of the precious timelines. 
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Other characters do also make observations like that about Frisk, like Mettaton and Toriel. But Sans is distinctive because this is the only way his comments change between RESETs and there are a lot of them from him.
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Because that is what really frustrates me about this misconception. People mention it as one more thing that makes Sans cool - but the actual truth is far more badass. Sans is one of the people in the Underground who remembers RESETs the least. I think memory-resistance to RESETs is probably tied to Determination. Flowey, the second-most Determined person in the Underground after Frisk, can remember everything perfectly.
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Everyone else has some vague feelings and deja vus. And Sans, he’s the least motivated person in the Underground - both in the sense he’s lazy and in the sense he’s fucking depressed.
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That probably means he has very little Determination. Thus, he doesn’t remember anything that happens between RESETs.
And yet, he is still the character most aware of them. Because he has the technological know-how to read and analyze timelines.
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And because he has the observation and analytical skill to notice a RESET from other people’s reactions and behavior. Whatever it’s Papyrus thinking he recognizes someone or Frisk’s behavior implying that they know something they shouldn’t have. Sans main RESET-related skill is just being able to identify these moments and come to the correct conclusion about them. And with that he manages to be the most aware character in the entire Underground.
Like, the one point where it might seem like Sans remembers something from a previous Timeline is the Fake Spare scene during his boss battle. 
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But it’s all pretend. Unlike the previous lines from other characters that I mentioned, this dialogue plays even if the Murder Route is the first time the player touched the game. Sans isn’t remembering anything in this scene. But he makes an educated guess that the Immoral Time God probably tried using their powers for good at first, so they were likely ‘friends’ in a previous timeline. And in most cases, his guess is right on the money - tricking many players into thinking this is another case of the game actually reacting to their past actions.
And as always, Sans can only tell if his lil’ trick worked or not based on the expression of the Player Character.
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Arguably, Sans even uses his lack of Determination and cross-RESET memory to his advantage in his boss battle. After all, the whole point of this fight isn’t to kill the Player - Sans understands this is impossible. This is a war of attrition, trying to get the Player so frustrated and annoyed with the unfair fight that they just ragequit or RESET the Timeline. And this war of the Player’s patience versus Sans’ stamina and will is infinitely easier for him when he doesn’t actually perceive all the Player’s previous attempts against him.
Like, for the Player this might be the billion time they go up against him, they’re aware of some of his patterns and tricks now but they’re probably also frustrated and angry and exhausted. Meanwhile, from Sans’ POV, this is still the first time this is happening. He knows it’s not from the Player’s behavior and Frisk’s expression - but he doesn’t feel it like the Player does. 
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He doesn’t feel the frustration and repetition of the endless stalemate. So he’s always as fresh as a daisy no matter how rugged the Player is getting.
And that’s part of why Sans is so cool in the first place, like, in general. He’s technically the weakest person in the Underground, lacking in every standard evaluation of power in the setting - no ATK, no DEF, no HP, no DETERMINATION. But he’s darn clever enough to overcome these weaknesses and even use them in ways that make them into strengths, enough to be one of the most dangerous and most aware guys in this whole setting.
Sans can’t remember anything, and that makes him awesome.
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bookclubforghosts · 1 year
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There was that one Reddit post that was like “I just realized you can actually make hundreds of thousands a year, what the fuck am I doing, I gotta go back to school NOW”
and it made me think about how the job I’m doing is something I love but I only made $12k last year and most of that was spent on gas and food and vet bills and programming supplies for work that my work’s budget couldn’t afford
and then I got a raise in January which was great! and I’m supposed to get promoted this year in august and it’ll be a really good promotion that will double my income !!!
but that’s still not really enough to sustainably live on
so I have to go back to school for my masters so I can get a librarian job that’ll pay $60k/year hopefully and I got accepted for a 25-week certificate program (woo!!) so from there starting in January I can go for my masters officially
so Yknow 2 years from now when I have that degree fingers crossed I’ll be a real librarian but then I think about how there are still people who make double that. Triple that. Quadruple that.
And I feel nauseous.
Because while I’m working towards 60k, I’ll be making $15k and then maybe hopefully possibly $30k, and all the while there are ceos making $200 or $300 or $400k and I don’t know if what they do is as meaningful as library work yknow but idk idk idk
So now I am looking for a second job in the meantime right.
And I found some that pay twice what I’m making now in the publishing industry as proofreaders.
And it’s really hit me that I could make my promotion’s annual salary in 6 months of work.
If I was in a different industry my bachelor’s degree would be worth, income-wise, that of my hypothetical master’s.
And Yknow you see that 54% of American adults can only read and comprehend up to a 6th grade level and you see teachers and libraries so underfunded that your staff members are making pennies and can’t afford to live in the area they serve and it’s so disheartening and not even surprising that the literacy rates are so low and keep dropping
And I don’t even know where I’m going with this I’m just frustrated and sad and anyways fingers crossed I get an interview at one of these publishing places I applied to tonight idek I need more money
#this is rambly I’m sorry I’m just. feelin it now mr krabs#I had a lady complain to me because she was upset that taxes in our state make it ‘too expensive to own two houses here’#because she wanted a house in the city and a house on the coast#and ‘because of that tax rate she had to buy a beach house in California instead’#and she complained about this to me for 15 minutes#and I’m standing there like. lol. I can’t even afford a fucking apartment at my current income level.#once I get promoted I will almost certainly be moving an hour away from where I work. so that I can be out of my parents place.#and she evidently makes enough that she can have two different multimillion dollar homes on opposite sides of the country#and she’s COMPLAINING ABOUT IT#like the fucking wealth disparity here#like why am I in this fucking industry#because I like it? is that a good enough reason?#I want to be part of the positive impact on the lives of the people who come in#I want to help people#but is it fucking worth it???#I care so much about making a third space between work and home and libraries are vital to the health and wellness of a community#and I’m so passionate about it#it means so much to me#but my mental health is crashing because I’m stuck in my parents place and can’t afford fo move out#is it fucking worth it. is it worth it. I’m not sure anymore.#if you asked me a few months ago I would’ve said yes.#but then I got back to wanting to kill myself. so.#I don’t know i don’t know I don’t know I’m sorry for rambling I’m going insane I’m sorry lmao#delete later#vent post#L writes
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sttm99 · 5 months
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Part 2 here!
'Fuck.'
It had been just two nights since you'd given him head in the dark of his dorm room, and Bakugo hadn't been able to rid his mind of the sensation ever since.
He knew it was stupid to even agree to it. You were the one girl in class he felt comfortable enough to talk about anything with. Be it grades, his fears and even more sexual topics. It also helped that he knew you wouldn't ever judge him for anything.
You were his closest friend; more so than Kirishima. And he liked that... he liked that he has someone he could trust with his life, someone he could relate with so effortlessly.
And you felt the same way with him. You told him everything; every little secret, every dirty detail, and he never laughed or judged.
Which was why you both were in his room, many hours past his bedtime, sitting opposite each other on his bed as you recounted your most recent almost-sexual endeavor.
"-and it was so awkward cause it was just hanging there in my face and I didn't know what to do." You groaned out, with your body hunched over, face covered with your palms as you recounted your experience in the school's storage room with a General Studies boy you'd been seeing casually.
Bakugo chuckled at your demeanor from where he was. "Yeah then maybe you should have stopped him when you saw him undoing his fucking belt."
You glared at him through the cracks between your fingers.
"Seriously," he laughed. "If you didn't wanna give him head, you should have told him the moment you entered the closet."
You groaned and fell back unto his bed. "The thing is I want to do it."
You turned your head to stare up at Bakugo.
"So why didn't you?"
You groaned again. "I don't know. I mean... look, I wanna be able to make the guy I like feel good, you understand. And I really thought I wanted to give him head, but then he was pulling his jeans down- and I was getting cold feet and then he pulled down his boxers and I wanted to run away right then....
"But I pushed through- and I got down... and it was just staring at my face and-"
"Maybe you just don't wanna do it." Bakugo raised his brow, cutting you off from your rambling.
You frowned. "Maybe. I mean, I think about giving head...and I wanna do it, and then I get an opportunity and I panic. You're probably right."
There was silence for a moment, before Bakugo shifted in his position, pulling his knees higher up, closer to his body, and leaning his forward.
"Or maybe... you don't wanna do it with him."
You furrowed your brows. "Meaning..? I don't really like him or what?"
Bakugo shrugged, "I mean, do you?"
You began sitting up. "Don't I?"
"Come on, Y/N." He raised a brow, giving you an unimpressed look, "You don't even text him unless he texts you."
"Yeah because he's always texting me."
"See! You even say it like you're frustrated." Bakugo jutted his arms out at you.
You paused, sitting up and pondering it.
Bakugo groaned. "Listen, I know you, okay? You- frankly, you're horny... more so than most people-"
You scowled at him.
"-and the fact that you don't even let him put his hands under your fucking skirt most times should tell you that you're probably not all that sexually attracted to him."
You stared at Bakugo, eyes narrowed as you began to see his point. "I guess you're on to something."
"Look," he began, "I honestly think you're just with him because of how aggressively he pursued you. And that's fucking dumb."
You pouted. "I guess... so now I have to find someone else to practice head with."
"Why do you wanna learn how to give head?" He laughed.
"Cause the girls were talking about giving head one time and I wanna be able to join in conversations." I groaned out, exasperated, and flopped back unto your back.
Bakugo took a moment to look you over, before adjusting his shorts and clearing his throat.
"I can give you pointers if you want."
Silence.
"What?" You mumbled, sitting back up, with your weight on your palms and narrowing your eyes at him.
He scowled at you. "I'm not repeating myself."
You rolled your eyes and hissed at his stubbornness. "You idiot."
"But..." You started slowly. "If you're offering to give me tips on sucking dick, I don't mind."
He shifted a bit. "Yeah... well- it'll only work if you're sexually attracted to me. If not, it'll just be like with that guy earlier- and shit would be awkward." He was looking away now.
"Wanna find out?"
And that was how he found himself heaving against his headboard with his shorts and boxers flung at the far end of his bed.
"Shitshit- fuck Y/N."
His hands were fisted into your hair, knees raised in the hair and thighs spread on either side of your head, as you laid on your stomach before him, nose pressed into his dark blonde pubic hair and lips wrapped tightly around his dick.
His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as grunts forced their way out his mouth.
It was just bordering on too much; the sensation of your mouth, and he'd suddenly realised how seriously you'd taken his analogy.
-"Consider it a bottle of smoothie or something, and there's that chunk that can't pass through the bottle mouth properly, so you're trying to suck it out." He'd said, holding his already hard dick against your cheek.
"That sounds stupid, Katsuki." You retorted, as you scowled up at him.
"That's the best I got, I ain't some sex therapist, okay!"-
"Oh shit- you're good," he groaned out, head thrown back and thighs quivering. "Fuck- fuck! Fuck, you're fucking good, baby. Just like that, yeah..!"
His grip on your hair tightened, pushing you down on his dick so he could feel the sliding of your tongue on his shaft as he dipped into your throat.
It didn't help that you were drooling all over him- and yourself-, your hand cupping his balls and squeezing softly.
He was going into overdrive, thrusting up unto your mouth, his eyes rolling back as he slipped down your throat over and over again, and he moaned as he felt you gag, your throat constricting against his tip.
He brought his head forward to peek over at you.
"Slut," he groaned out, eyeing your positioning; one hand infront of you, playing with his balls, and the other stretched underneath your body, fingers dipping into your sleepshorts. "You fucking slut- you like this shit, don't you?"
You moaned around his dick, vibrations coursing round his veins and your eyes looking up to meet his; lids hanging heavy and pupils blown out as you sucked on his cock.
He came heavy- hard. With spasming thighs and choked out groans as he spurted his seed down your throat.
It was a lot... too much. He kept spurting out his cum and his sight was blurry as he looked at you.
Now he couldn't look at you without remembering your stupid, fucked expression when you were between his legs. And it's weird, because all you're doing is grinning an Sato as you hover around him whilst he bakes.
It's stupid. He knows it is.
You don't even like him that way.
Part 2 has been posted here!
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