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#more his stans? but to be safe.
philtatosbuck · 2 years
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i said it in the tags of my other post but st*rek is about stiles SO much more than it is derek and that's why they don't care about the age gap. it's not seen as a personal well compatible ship for derek but it's seen as a hot older strong guy who defends stiles against everything and everyone (untrue) while stiles gets to be the badass 'spark' (kill me).
i genuinely think there are so few people who favor derek over stiles that ship them together.
like let's be real about it. hardcore stiles stans (not all) see almost every character as an accessory to stiles and derek is no different. you do not give a damn about him being in character as long as stiles has him as some sort of trophy.
that's why so much of the st*rek narrative is made up and has derek like. COMPLETELY treating stiles drastically different than he does in canon
(also why tags are scott mccall is a bad friend/alpha are called for. they completely alter scott and derek's bond to make room for stiles and derek instead, AND why pack mom stiles is a thing. they make honestly both stiles and derek out of character with this one, but also isaac erica and boyd, only ONE of which shows any sign of liking stiles at all enough to listen to him, and why they have scott join derek's pack instead of being an alpha, etc)
the derek hale deserves nice things tag is filled with st/erek and pack mom stiles with the three betas as if derek didn't end the show with a girlfriend he loves, a good relationship with his alpha, the ability to shift into a full wolf, and is apart of a pack that would always be there for him. as if two of those three betas didn't die and the other one didn't defect right before derek himself did and accepted scott as his alpha. as if stiles and derek could stand to be in leadership with each other without scott there.
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Lowkey I hate whenever Jason and Roy are written as friends at this point. Like any time they are in comics it destroys Roy’s character (and Jason’s for that matter) - aka the whole of RHATO, but not to mention it usually comes with totally devaluing the Fab 5′s friendship with each other and acting like the OG Titans would just... stop talking when they’re literally best friends and love each other so much. Like, I can barely find anything outside of older comics with them all together anymore :(, much less that has them in character and not with the post N52 versions of them.
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ardentpoop · 2 months
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you guys really don’t get him tbfh
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franeridan · 8 months
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the whole one hour and forty minutes of op stampede are worth it even just for that half a second of interaction between mihawk and zoro actually thank you and amen 🙏
#he saves his ass#and then looks at him and smirks......#ahshshshsjdjsh that's his dad!!!! healthy father son rivalry i say!!!!#tbh I don't usually feel like watching op movie much#i..... don't exactly read op for the fights and the movies are usually just fights so#¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯#but sometimes I'm in the specific mood of seeing weird team ups or interactions so i end up watching a bunch of movies one after the other#stampede is............eh#it's okay ig a bit too exaggerated for my tastes but that's just the op movies usual taste#only the movies can make me question how things work in the op universe btw usually I'm down for anything#but then i watch a movie and I'm like “is that really how that is supposed to work...?”#Anyway I'm always up for seeing law being treated as part of the crew#and my zoro stan heart cries when i say this but I'm sorta always up for seeing law act as a sub captain for the crew huhuhu#sorry first mate i swear i would never try to take your spot from you#anyway law picking up robin was sweet law seeking luffy as a safe space was beautiful sabo's........#everything but especially his interactions with smoker were fun#but like the whole movie was really more of just a spot the cameo than anything 😂 it's okay!!!#I'm not lying when i say watching it was worth it even just for zoro and mihawk#that's the small stuff i watch the movies for anyway huhuhu#next one....gold. i don't think i watched that yet either#that's for another day tho now sleep
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bloogers-boogers · 1 year
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Kyle Brofloski/ Eric Cartman (Sp fic)
('What up with the fatass?')
/Let me slide into your DM's/ part 3
Stan's gang meet up in discussion of their future revelation.
"If we either become queermo pussies or boring ass side characters, your choice!"
Slight warning ⚠️ slurs, and well, it's a sp fic you could either expect both good or bad outcomes from it.
Btw important! It gonna get kinda gory and sensible topics are gonna be told in this chapter and the following others, so please if you're not comfortable with that type of stuff I don't recommend!
Author's note: I managed to link the chaps! So it'll be easier for u guys to switch between chapters ❤🙏🏼 again thx for the help u guys and also for the comments! I read each one of them! I'm very grateful for u guys, I'm glad u seem to enjoy my writing even if it can be a little off and confusing at points my vocabulary can be a little limited so I'm trying to expand it so it doesn't sound to iffy, ok time to read! 🤗
Second note: south park pov will be mostly Kyle's pov (technically just the gangs pov it'll be on Kyle's perpective) and north park would be Cartman's just wanted to make that clear! C:
~~~~~~
It's the day, the day that officially declares its been a month since Cartman moved, would this count as a 'Cartman anniversary'? Kyle really didn't want to know, he just wanted to do something.
Even if that meant having a fat bitch nagging, mocking, taunting him all the damn time. His life was starting to feel hallow, empty, numb, boring..
It felt meaningless? He's starting to feel what he assumed the adults of their town were going through; a internal crisis. Why did the fatass formed such a big part of what he's experiencing now?
How can someone so annoying make such a impact on him? On his brain and heart. Or was it that Cartman had already long gone manipulated into believing that he needed him to keep that flame in him.
Manipulated all of town, fuck, even the animals were looking bored as hell.
He layyed himself whole, flat stomach against the couch, bored looking face with his cheeks squishing against a cushion, it felt like he was going through some really bad break up, like the whole town was going through one. He grabbed the remote turning on the tv.
'Breaking news‼️: citizens across the country are now voting for the most lame uncharacteristic bland ass town of America! Polls are being equally divided between California's 'I eat fist' town, Texas 'sausage' town and ofcourse recently now unoriginal town in state of Colorado dropped by 68% to 1% in less than a month, 'South park', being one of the most demolished rates in history to beat a score of lameness about 59% in half a second! People claiming they barely even recognize the name, I barely remember the town itself if it weren't for this piece of paper that reminded of it! —'
He groaned loudly as he face slammed on to the cushions, letting out a heavy frustrating moan.
Now they were being ridiculed by their whole country for not being 'exciting' or 'interesting' enough.
He hated this feeling, he couldn't help but to pinned the blame on Cartman. He grunted reluctantly taking out his phone and opening his gallery, zoning out enough to block the new reporter's blabbering.
He scrolled to his countless pictures of family, friends, events, holidays, birthdays, trips and all that crap. He tapped on the first picture that just caught his attention; just fatass hogging his phone that day, making a collage of himself with vulgar gestures and weird looking faces.
'So original' he remembered remarking to Cartman, as the other just took out his tongue teasingly.
Scrolling once more, he halted in a picture were it was just Cartman making himself a mess with chocolate ice cream all splattered over his face; an annoyed look as his eyes darted at his hands by how ice creamy covered they were, cone half done being hold by his thumb pressed against his index.
He remembers taking a snap to make fun of Cartman later on because of how funny he thought it was, but he never actually used it and in reality he didn't find it as funny AFTER; once he second and third looked at it, more like, amusing. He found the picture amusing. Amusing enough to keep it saved in his gallery but also hogging it from others to see and share that se sentiment probably taking all the special to it.
After two more pictures, he clicked on a video, it was Cartman, once again, hogging his phone:
Rec🔴 0:06 - ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ -3:46
'Dammit, jew! Don't be so stingy!' There was a lot of movement making the camera shake viciously.
'Shut up, Cartman! Give me back my phone!'
'Worried I'll take all your cloud gigs too quickly?' Half Cartman's face seen, including that childish taunting pout of his.
'Ofcourse asshole! Do you know how much I have to pay for extra cloud storage!?'
'Stop being greedy and acting like your rich lawyer dad doesn't pay for your shit'
'My dad isn't rich'
'But he's a lawyer and a JEW'
'That makes zero sense'
'You know damn well what I mean'
Cartman than moved the camera angle in a wide frame showing both boys; one frowning angrily and the other smirking casually while he slightly waved at the camera before placing it steady and walking next to, well himself, Kyle.
Looking at his fat friend in a questioning look as he keep staring at the camera while standing next to him.
'What're you doing fat boy?' Before anything else he was gut punched in the gut.
'Ha! That's what you get for being greedy and letting your guard down, Kahal! Hahahaha!'
'That does it!' He screamed furiously standing up from his computer chair and chased Cartman around his room like two foolish kids messing around. Cartman smiling wide as he'd run from a fuming redhead.
3:46 - ⏮ ▶️ ⏭ -0:00 🔁
Kyle beamed by the memory, a nauseous revolving feeling surge in his stomach.
Moments like these is were he grasped hard into the somewhat relationship he had with Cartman, sometimes it was just hard to give up on him. Even if he's proven to be irredeemable, unforgiving, unfixable. Cartman could pathetically look at him with the most sad puppy eyes he's ever seen and couldn't bare himself but cease in and try to help once more. Which was stupid. But how can he just let him destroy himself further? That kid got issues, and as a friend, a group they had to stick up together right?
He felt more responsible over Cartman than anyone else from this whole fucking town, sometimes he even believed Cartman also shared that same mentality an unhealthy dependency on him for seeking help, get him out from trouble or just checking if he was being paranoid or hallucinating too much again, which he always did.
Kyle knew it was unhealthy what they had, but it was something strong they built. Or maybe it was just he who built it..? Cartman seemed to be doing well with out him..
Maybe he was the one being a little too attached? Which was ridiculous to believe, Cartman has always obsessed over him to point he even questioned if he was definitely a percentage away on being sent to a psycho ward.
Ofcourse that never happened, but he was damn nuts and had the ginger in his mind all 24/7, and he never denied being that way.
Shamelessly admitting he had broke into his room countless times, no boundaries were set between them, they even barge into the bathroom while they were using it. By that point nothing was 'too' embarrassing for them to encounter together. Those layers of privacy were non-existant between the two, for fuck sake he had put a finger up Cartman's ass once! What's more that could up that shit? By that point he could expect Cartman to steal a kiss from him for a scheme of his and he wouldn't bat an eye to it, probably punching him straight in the face for it; but still unbothered.
It's not like he hadn't taken up worse? He's eaten shit from a Japanese man's butthole, had swim and drink pee and was forcefully driven to smell Cartman's farts for the sake of the world. Friends with a literal talking shit, friends with a literal schizophrenic psychopath and having to endure aids for that same stupid bitch. Being turned down from the basketball league because he wasn't a tall black boy, having surgery and yet still had his knees explode mid game, traumatic. Hemorrhoids, a kidney failure, a manbear pig attack, a smug storm.. countless near death experiences.
Yeah, a kiss wouldn't be torturous. Cartman could kiss him, he should kiss him to prove his point.
Maybe he was the one to be mentally fucked up?
Nah, he's fine.
°°°°°
Kyle headed to the bus stop, spotting Stan eating some flaming chips, something odd he'd been noticing of his friend was his binge eating. Ever since Cartman left he had been hogging food everywhere they'd go; when they go play video games, he'd go to the kitchen and look through the fridge grabbing snacks and drinking high sugary beverages like mountain dew or smoothie mixed with coca, at the cafeteria he'd steal some of Butters fries or Kyle's half eaten burger, he even picked a fight with Craig for the last piece of chocolate cake they had there, even while they walked to someplace he'd always had a bar of chocolate in hand or a pack of sweets.
It was starting to be concerning but he hasn't pointed it out to Stan yet atleast until Wendy does, he knew Wendy was already planning on making an intervention for Stan soon, she's asked Kyle beforehand to keep track of what Stan's been eating to give her a list, which is why he notice right away of Stan's problem. Maybe it was a coincidence to link Cartman's absence to it, but who else had a binge eating problem that wasn't fatass?
"Morning dude," He greeted placing himself next to the now chubby kid.
Yes, Stan also have been gaining weight by the excessive food he's been eating. It was barely noticeable for the eye, but for people as close like Kyle, Wendy, Kenny and Butters, it was damn obvious.
"Mornin'," Stan mumbled out, unfazed while munching on some chips, his fingers were all greasy and hand cheeto dust all over.
"Did you see the news?," Kyle asked, looking at the road too uninterested with the small talk.
"You mean how they all we're calling south park a bunch of 'jackin' offing losers'?" He remarked the reporter's comment in exact detail.
Kyle nodded silently, they were really being pounded down to the ground with all the insults directed their way.
"Did you also hear about North Park?," his best friend added now sparking the redhead's attention.
"What is it?," he asked now intrigued.
"It's been up the ranking of wackiness and bizarre they were offered to make a show about it, can you believe it?" Stan commented incredulous.
Kyle was bewildered, no fucking way. Not even south park were offered that privilege while having fatass in town, now.. no, that's too much of a coincidence.
"It's fatass," he blurted out, making Stan look at him surprised.
He slammed the table with his right fist, now inside the meeting being formed that same night, their usual hide out; Cartman's basement, which Kenny helped barge in the locked house even if everything was empty and piled up with dust (with the exception of the table and white board they brought while entering). They were too stubborn to look for another place to meet up in so ofcourse the hide out wouldn't change until the house is actually sold.
He looked up at the group of kids there: Craig's gang, Stan's and ofcourse Wendy's.
"I think we all know why we're here."
Clyde looked concerned to his left, "because.. of the new mermaid movie..?" He winced out uncertain.
"No, fatass! We're not here for some dumb gay fish movie!," he shouted annoyed, huffing as he paced around the room in a typical Cartman manner.
"We're here to get Cartman back," Stan chimed in his seat, a bowl of chocolaty creamy strawberries in hand oblivious eating them while a concerned Wendy looked his way.
"Why?" Craig asked in his typical monotone voice.
"Because, we're nothing with out fatass," He finally blurted out, placing both his hands on the table looking at them directly.
"S-say that again?" Jimmy spoke up more confused than being sarcastic.
"Guys, ever since Cartman left everything has been dulled," He continued, now dragging the white board infront of them taking off the sheet that covered it; revealing their plan strategy, "south park has always had an untold curse to it, we all know about the anomaly and whack shit we've have to endure by living here"
"I always thought it was because of you four," Token commented unfazed.
"Point is," Kyle ignored, looking at the board, "not having Cartman around has abruptly lower our percentage to zero," He pointed with a marker a drawing of Cartman and a field around him signaling the 'curse'.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Annie pointed out.
"No, if we want to be seen as the pussy town of Colorado with no name," He snapped back bitter.
Luckily most of the kids there agreed with him, making him seem less crazy for wanting Cartman back.
"Kyle's right, ever since Eric moved away my parents now ground me because of boredom. They don't even care if I do good in school or not they just nag about moving away to some fart smelling city like New York to get some action again," Butters added grabbing a strawberry from Stan's bowl.
"My dad sent me to Denver the other day for a gallon of milk and asked me about the weather there," Tweek also added to the pile of complaints.
"My parents sold both my sister's bike and my coin collection away and replaced them with a pile of balloon clowns," Craig added now indulge in the subject.
"My parents bought a zoo and have been living inside the gorilla habitat for two weeks," Heidi added a little ashamed as she looked downwards, probably reluctantly admitting Cartman may need to come back to solve her issue.
"My mom has bought over 300 pair of shoes in a week were almost going broke," Nichole hesitantly added.
Wendy sighed as she intertwined her fingers defeated, "My dad has been going nonstop to strip clubs and my mom has been pimping out some male colleagues of hers," she admitted embarrassed, "it's clear south park is going into a crisis."
"And my dad has been up in sales for all the weed he's sold to south park residents," Stan complained chugging five strawberries in his mouth, annoyed, "ever-veryone's hig-gh as fuck like wi-with the tegrity b-burger sales," He mumbled out, slapping Kenny's hand away from his bowl as the blonde looked at him offended.
Butters snickering next to him as he had successfully stolen a strawberry from Stan previously.
"Cartman is like a endless void," Kyle added, now circulating the drawing of Cartman and drawing a pointer down, "with out it, there nothing that can suck all of our shit down," He wrote his points up then signaled a pile of adults destroying the town, "making everthing go into an endless loop of wanting a purpose and still not finding anything while destroying what we have left with ACTUAL consequences. A reset button up Cartman's ass to restart our day, to fix our shit. Pretty much with out it the damages we make today stays, while still being so uncharacteristically damaged were basically nothing.
For some reason Cartman is that damn reset button, he takes the curse with him it just makes sense why we still put up with his shit and he hasn't been sent to jail for all the atrocities he's done. He CAN'T leave south park, everything has to be put to an end with each day, everything has to be back to normal with each common episode. If there's a long continuity it's gonna feel dragged and force it'll become boring like the Mr Garrison election, tegrity farms and the pandemic special so the curse will start to self destruct itself until it ends it.
Technically, we're in a episode with continuity.
And we're dragging it too far, being matter of weeks or days before our town becomes nothing but a running old gag people give zero fucks about, targeting their attention to something new making Cartman's curse merge into the new hole it's in.
In this case; north park," He finished finally circulating a drawing of the town and a North park Cartman on the side.
Everyone kept silent as they were captivated by the long explanation.
"Damn, dude. Have you gotten any sleep?," Craig commented bewildered.
"Does this have something to do with aliens?" Clyde chimed in now freaked out, bitting his finger nails and looking frantically between Kyle and the group.
"That, I don't know," Kyle responded tirelessly, now sighing heavily. It's almost concluding another day with out Cartman, and if his theories are right, it could be dangerous, "we need to manage to go to North park and get Cartman."
"What if Eric doesn't want to get back?" Butters spoke up, now everyone looking at him attentively.
Right, out all of them there, Cartman updates Butters everything that's been going on around his new lifestyle.
"Do you know something Butters?," Kyle inquired skeptical with a glare.
"No.." He dismissively looked Kenny's way before looking at something else, "Eric's really liking North Park that's all," he admitted in almost a whisper, after brief seconds.
°°°°°°
Kyle walked back home with his hands shoved inside his pockets, glaring at the ground beneath him.
Cartman is liking North Park because of his curse not much because he's actually liking it, he tried reasoning with that. But it wasn't still reassuring.
He began slapping the side of his head trying to shoo away any thoughts of Cartman, but he just couldn't stop thinking about him.
'MeooOow' a distressed cat moaned, snapping him out of it; it came behind some bushes near the Steven's residence. He approached cautiously and found a old grey kitty that licked it's paw and hiss at him after noticing his presence.
"Mr kitty?" Kyle blurted out softly unfazed by the aggressive attitude, Cartman had left his cat?
He reached out for her, holding on to her tightly being scratched in the face in the process 'defensive instincts' he thought, wincing out by the stingy pain.
Okay, Cartman would never abandon Mr kitty like that. That's unlike him, if there's something he knew as a fact was that Cartman loved his cat even if he had a hard time admitting it, he'd always made sure his cat was home before midnight and would check if her food was place in her bowl.
Even though he'd angrily complained about the cat craving the food he'd have in hand instead of her cat food, Kyle has seen from time to time how Cartman would cease in the meowing giving food from his plate to Mr kitty. He thought it was disgusting seeing him eat from the same plate as the cat did but never bother commenting it, cause it was an adorable quality of his. Just like when he'd hand feed it letting the cat licked everything off his palm and then later off using that same hand to eat a pile of chicken nuggets with out washing his hands. It was gross for sure, but it was cute.
He winced by the thought of even considering Cartman remotely 'cute', he got home, still a rabid cat in hands. It's liked the cat hated him, but then again... it is Cartman's.
"Hold on there, mister," his mother stopped him before heading upstairs, "what is that?" She pointed at the hissing feline.
Kyle arched a brow, "it's a cat, don't worry I'm just keeping it for a while until a friend comes back from a trip." He explained, hoping that would be enough for his mom to let it go.
"Kyle, don't think I've forgotten about your chessing phase," she remarked, now hands placed on her hips, "is that it? Are you chessing?" She asked worrisome.
"No, ma. I'm serious, this is just my friend's cat," He rolled his eyes, still not believing his mother still thought he chessed once.
She arched a brow skeptical, reluctantly believing his words.
"Okay, bubbie.. but one showing symptom of it and that cat is out," she warned pointedly, as she walked back to the kitchen, "and keep that cat far from your father's office he wouldn't want to step on cat poop," she shouted after.
"Okay, ma," He responded back, running to his room as he shut the door letting the cat out of his arms, as he whined out from the stingy small war wounds (scratches) on his hands and arms somehow her nails got under his jacket sleeves.
Mr kitty hid under his bed as she couldn't escape from the window because it was closed.
He sighed as he approached his drawer and opened a cabinet, which he had a small aid kit. He took out some alcohol and began putting some on the scratches that actually had blood pouring out.
He glance to his side noticing Mr kitty peeking out from his bed but instantly glaring at him in a defensive stance as she growled.
Man, that cat really hated his ass.
Kyle couldn't help but wonder if Cartman could've trained her to hate him, but he then dismissed it as Cartman's wasn't the type to be too hyped on something that had no gained for him. He'll get easily bored by less than an hour, if plausible 20 minutes and 33 seconds to be exact.
He kneeled down and began mimicking Cartman's gay little song he'd use to lure his cat when she'd ran off from home. He had memorized it by the countless times he's heard him sing it out loud to the neighborhood with zero shame.
Singing has been such a Cartman's thing to do, he realized how both mother and son always had a thing to easily communicate by song and he wouldn't be surprised if that cat too was also taught to listen by musical notes.
One of Cartman's perks of singing endlessly since a toddler really brought fruit to his voice, so neighbors nearly complained when he'd sang out for his cat. His voice was marvelous, angelic, the type that'll lure you like a siren to a crew of sailors, a easy way to trick and manipulate people into listening to him or doing what he says. Something he definitely seen Cartman use for his advantage.
Even, as awful it is to admit, he's fallen for his curse various times himself. He'd be caught listening in his window as he'd watch from afar his arch-rival walking through the sidewalk singing to Mr kitty to come back and threatening her lastly to give her the garlic food instead of the tuna which most of the time worked, cause the cat would dash back to her owners arms after listening on not having tuna for dinner.
"Miaw miaw miaw come kitty, come Mr kitty kitty!" he awkwardly sing, as he watched the cat immediately tilted her head interested, "who's a good Mr kitty? Miaw kitty kitty miaw miaw.." he felt his voice cracked after a couple of 'miaws', he wasn't as in tune like Cartman was but he didn't think he was that bad either.
"Miaw miaw miaw miaw~
Kitty kitty kitty
Who's my Mr kitty? I love my kitty kitty~!" He never thought he'd be singing for a cat but there he was, now seeing the cat cautiously walked twoards him.
He carefully extended his hand in a welcoming gesture, expecting the cat to put her paw there but instead she smelled it before nuzzling against his hand with a purr.
Now that's awfully cute, he wasn't much of a cat person he preferred lizards or elephants, but he won't deny Cartman's cat was adorable.
He gently patted her head not knowing how cat owners tended to show their felines affection, he just knew by online critics that cats were evil cold living creatures and would prefer to not be disturb. The last time he's ever grabbed a cat was when he had to hide that damn cat Kenny would use for chessing, and he shoved it in his drawer not really caring much for it. He could've almost forgotten it if his mother didn't caught him with it.
But this one was Cartman's, she was special to him, so he had to make sure she'd be fine while fatass is away. Or Cartman could go all psycho on them if something were to happened to her once he's back.
And he had no plans on dealing with one of those episodes again.
He's learned from what happened to Scott, mitch Connor, 'cupid yee' or 'me' or whatever (he just remembers Stan commented about Cartman's little episode to him while explaining of how things lead the way it did), skank hunt (he wasn't sure to count that one, but Cartman wasn't the same at that time like if he were broken)or the 1% issue, that an emotional Cartman is a reckless 'not to be messed' one.
Cause you really don't know how'd he'd react and take it, which becomes a nerve wrecking roulette. Cartman had limits where once you pass the highest grounds, you're over. You either die, emotionally traumatized/ wound for life or spared (which is unlikely).
He remembered a kid calling him tubby it wasn't a big deal until he took it too far and 'humiliated' Cartman in the assembly. Cartman took it as if the boy was out to get him, which he technically was but his fate was counted.
Both Stan and himself knew he wasn't gonna make it to middle-school.
Surprisingly the boy was given a 'light' punishment being sent to a juvenile prison by a crime he clearly didn't commit but was then executed after three weeks cause a few inmates accused him for slaughtering another in the bathrooms.
Supposedly the aftermath had nothing to do with Cartman but both he and Stan were skeptical about it.
Then there was this other boy that had the balls to smack Cartman's ass in a football game. Yeah, let's say that one didn't last a week after the incident. For what he heard, that boy was given to pigs dismembered in bits and a bullet wound in his head. He remembered how fucked up it was for Cartman to show up to the boy's grieving parents home and gave them his condolences. It's like he gets even more gruesome with his vengeful antics each time he'd snap.
This could count as a 'group' thing but it was mostly Cartman influenced, cause it really messed them up for a period.
A fat old grumpy man almost raped him in a parking lot, it was their darkest secret yet as a group, as a whole.
He remembered that night vividly, they were at a club Butters snuck them in while he worked there, and as they were all vibing and looking at all the hot chicks there Kenny had asked if anyone had a lighter on them Cartman said he had one in his bicycle pouch, so he went out to fetched it, seemed it was more of an excuse to leave as he did notice Cartman seemed uncomfortable being at that place, and second he wouldn't offer to get it for Kenny he would straight up just tell him to go get it himself.
It took a couple of minutes and he recalls how they all started wondering if Cartman had actually ditched them, so they all went looking for him outside.
And for their horror saw Cartman sobbing uncontrollably as some man had him pinned against the hood of a blue Honda, trying to unbottoned his pants as he rubbed his crotch against his. This wasn't as with snooki, it was far worse cause he noticed bruises forming up his throat and face; weakening Cartman before the actual action.
'Holy shit' was the only thing he heard Stan blurt out in shock.
That was the night something in him snapped, and intentionally murder a man.
He remembered how everything became so blurry and slow as Stan anxiously yanked him away from the bloody body while being covered in blood from head to toes, as Kenny yelled saying he'll tell Butters to cover them up with the security footage, while Cartman whimpered and sobbed still panting frantically in the hood.
It was the most saddest shit he's ever seen Cartman been.
They dragged the body to starks pound.
Cartman was a mess, but fuck, he didn't want to ever see a friend be in a situation like that ever again.
They hid behind some cars as a police officer passed by, dragging the body with difficulty even being four boys. The man weighted over 300 pounds and with the added 'dead' weight it worsen it.
Everything seemed so surreal.
Cartman finally spoke after being so zoned out by the whole thing, they tossed the body inside a wooden boat. Took a lighter out from his pocket, the same lighter that was the whole reason they were all there to begin with.
Kenny poured gasoline all over it while puffing his last cigarette, and Cartman lit it up pushing the boat away from the edge with a small kick.
"This will be in grave a secret until we die"
That was Cartman's way of telling him 'thanks' even if it was the most devastating coldly thing he's ever done, Cartman could've use that to blackmail him or even get rid of him for good. But he never told a soul once it was all over, acting like it never happened.
He remembered he had to strip naked to get rid of his clothes and tossed it in the flaming boat, how'd he had to use some clothes from Walmart Stan had went to purchase them while he shaked tremendously by the intensity of the whole thing.
After that, they never spoked of it again and Kenny quit smoking.
°°°°
He hold Mr kitty in his arms, the cat warmed up to him very quickly than he had expected her to be.
She nuzzle with a purr against his chest, he couldn't help but visualize Cartman doing it instead.
His eyes widen, he was going crazy. That's the only explanation he could give to himself with how he was acting.
Yeah, this was bad, they had to get Cartman back for everything to go back to normal again.
He recalls of the agreement of their meeting, how Bebe asked how'd they'd be able to go to north park with out their parents knowing.
They all agreed on leaving that to Stan's gang to get fatass as they were Cartman's friends but Wendy and Craig's gang will handle the shit over in south park tricking their parents into believing Stan's gang went to some force week field trip.
It's not like their parents weren't stupid enough to believe that crap but they needed to ask for permission.
It's not like Kyle hasn't disobeyed any of his parents order anyways, no matter what answer it was, he was still going to north park.
And it's definitely not their first time ever leaving South park for longer than three days.
It was morning and he woke up with an awful smell, Mr kitty pissed all over his bed, fucking gross. He's never seen that cat ever pee in Cartman's home, it'll always meow at the door for Cartman to let her out and do what she has to do or just go to her litter box, that cat did it on purpose! Or maybe he should've just put some newspaper or a box, fucking crap.
He ran to the bathroom, took a shower and put some clothes on.
Taking his pj's and bed sheets to the washing machine, what a nice start to his morning, he thought bitterly.
Once settling his clothes in the washer he went up stairs and grab Mr kitty, and then rushed straight to the kitchen fridge and grab a can of sardines.
He sat in the table and place the tuna as he rested the cat in his lap letting her just reach out for the food herself, not thinking much of how bad it was seen as 'table manners', he felt his mother scowled him from the stove but said nothing, he didn't mind by that point he was already too numb by his mother's scolding he wasn't afraid for another.
Even though, once he started middle-school his mother mellowed down some more; saying kids their age needed space and shit like that. So she began stricter with Ike the youngest and being more free caring from Kyle her eldest son.
Which he was very grateful of to an extent.
All his family were already sitting in the table and eating breakfast, his dad didn't seem to questioned the cat and his brother just arched a brow.
"Is that Eric Cartman's cat?" He asked.
Kyle munched slowly his food as he watched him blankly, "no."
"Oh Ike, don't be silly, Eric Cartman moved a month ago I'm pretty sure they took their cat," His mother spoke reassuring, "stop bothering your brother with too many questions," she warned in a more passive aggressive tone.
Again, he didn't understand his parents, or any of the other adults. Apparently he wasn't the only one of the four that their parents mellowed down with, his friends also commented that once they began middle-school their parents seemed a little loosen around the edge when it came to them.
As if they really didn't want to deal with them.
Kyle gently caressed the cat's furry head 'don't worry Mr kitty will get Cartman back' he thought reassuring while smiling softly.
"So.. mom, dad. There gonna be this trip in like two days and-" he began his rehearsed speech of why he should be let go and how'd it'll be an improvement for his still developing mind.
"It's okay, Kyle. You can go," his father interrupted eager, somewhat anxious.
"But-"
"Really, it's alright buddy, do whatever you want," he reassured not even bothering to ask 'what' or 'when' 'who' and 'why', giving him a awkward thumbs up, his mother nodded agreeing sharing that same enthusiasm.
"Dammit, I wish I were in middle-school," he heard Ike cussed out in a whisper.
He definitely wouldn't, he would contradicted it if he actually wasn't in a rush to go talk to his friends and see how'd it went with them.
"Okay, cool—," he said uncertain, dragging the 'O', now placing the cat in the floor as he picked up his place, "I need someone to take care of mr-" he cut off, as he was about to blurt out the cat's actual name, "Mr poopkins while I'm gone," he finished awkwardly.
His family went silent and both his parents shared a look then looked at Ike.
"Well good thing your brother offered himself to take care of it, right Ike?" His dad then added, forcing a smile.
"Me!?" Ike asked incredulous, looking offended, "I don't want to-" his mother clasped her hand on his mouth preventing him to finish his sentence.
"Don't worry, bubbie, it's alright. Ike would happily take care of Mr poopkins for you," she beamed as Ike frowned by that.
"Cool," Kyle said grinning, ignoring the obvious glaring from his younger brother before heading to get his backpack and head out.
It was convenient for sure but it really made him feel like his parents no longer cared for him.
He shrugged those thoughts away as he went to the bus stop.
"So how'd it go?," He asked immediately once approaching Stan.
"My dad flinched cowardly as if I were about to murder him, dude. And I dunno whats their deal but yeah, they let me go," he shrugged, now chugging a bunch of chips, "can you believe Wendy last night told me I had a binge eating problem?" He continued, now crunching the bag in his hands before tossing it to the ground annoyed, "like, there's always something that bothers her, like 'Dude, chill the fuck out I can't eat some chips because NOW I have a issue?' "
Kyle scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "Well.. you do kinda have a problem Stan," he reluctantly admitted.
Making Stan looked at him baffled, "I do not!," he then looked at the ground as his gestures soften, "do I...?" He asked defeated, more to himself than to his friend.
"Hey dudes," Kenny greeted as he approached them.
"Sup, Ken. How it'd go?" Stan asked now recovering from his emotional internal questioning.
"What you mean?"
"Did you asked your parent about the 'field trip'?" Kyle gripped his backpack now remembering how fatass would just barge in and say his latest stupid fact learned from the internet or some magazine he read.
He's not missing Eric Cartman, okay? He's just missing the familiarity and the casualty of it all.
"As if I needed to ask, my parents don't give a crap. I just left them a couple of joints and three packs of beer that'll keep them out for an entire week," he said disinterested as he took out his phone that was buzzing, "fuck, it's Eric."
Kyle eyes widen as he had predicted the obvious, he gripped harder on his backpack expectantly, maybe even hopeful he could hear his voice?
"Cartman calls you?" He heard Stan ask, but he was so damn far lost in his mind he zoned out a bit.
"His calls are random sometimes, I gotta pick this up man," Kenny answered, putting some earphones on, now walking away a couple of feets apart from them unintentionally making Kyle's heart shrunk and his stomach twist.
Kyle questioned himself why he felt disappointed by that, but he shrugged it off like usual, looking at the blonde who chatted animosity as he walked in circles.
Cartman hasn't called both he and Stan not even once since his move, he couldn't be angry at them for the party right? Or were they just nothing to him?
Fuck, even Butters gets to talk to him more than either of them.
That's a douche move even coming from Cartman.
Kenny walked back to his place now phone back in his pocket.
"So what did he say?" Stan asked.
"He was telling me that he had to go to the doctor yesterday and was told he was developing 'pussy-itis' "
"What's that?" Stan asked genuinely confused.
Kyle rolled his eyes, 'my god that was a Cartman thing to say.'
"He said that it's a disease that spreads to new comers when being exposed for too long, he has like vaginas growing inside his ass and the doctor warned him that he could turn into a giant pussy if he keeps it up," Kenny shrugged, now looking at the road.
That condition actually reminded him of the time Stan got growing vaginas in his face and skin because he had stopped eating meat when they were protesting for the calves safety. It was similar as the time Butters accidentally blurted out that Cartman had sparkly cleaned vaginas in his stomach because of the huge amount of vasagsil he ingested as a kid.
And as much as he hated how fucking bizarre and impossible it is for that to happen, he couldn't deny actually witnessing and be proven wrong countless times that it WAS possible. So it wasn't unbelievable to believe Cartman got diagnosed with yet another odd condition.
"Okay, so technically Cartman wants to come back now, right?" Kyle inquired, subtly leaning forward.
"No, he was given medication so he's now 'skwel'," he made a similar impression of Cartman, "he also said to tell Stan about the uh.. something about a— gnome in the cooler or some shit like that? I didn't understand well cause he cut off immediately after that," Kenny shaked his head in disapproval.
Stan flinched, eyes wide and a blank expression adorned his face immediately knowing what Cartman meant, "HOLY SHIT," he exclaimed bewildered before running off without further explanation, leaving both friends confused ass hell.
Kyle looked at Kenny expecting more from that call, but he didn't add anything else. He frowned looking at the ground still gripping his backpack while bitting his lip.
Kenny gasped as he had forgotten something making Kyle flinched in surprise.
"Cartman said 'up your ass, jew' when I told him you called him a pretentious north park bitch," he remarked casually before looking at the school bus stopping infront of them.
Oblivious of a now beaming Kyle, both entering the bus picking a seat behind Butters.
Kyle didn't know why, but he jolted excited stomach feeling all twisted and his heart pounded loudly he could hear it inside his ears.
°°°°
"I haven't told them yet," Butters said as he rubbed his knuckles, heading to class.
"Dude, why not? We're leaving in two days, man," Kenny spoke while holding on to a notebook.
"They're not gonna let me go you guys," He admitted unfazed.
"Okay, so you're planning on sneaking out," Kyle added.
"I'm not sure.." the boy hesitated saying, looking at some flyer.
"You're Eric's best friend and your telling me you're NOT going to go get him?" Kenny inquired, kinda spiteful, "it's not like you haven't sneak out before and for Eric of all people too!
Like, your stupid schemes required a little disobedience from your part to handle all the shit Cartman gives you.
You're Eric fucking Cartman's best friend! It's pretty much not even a choice to not be a little shit head, stop being such a pussy," he blurted out, extending his arms up in the air for emphasis.
"NO, Kenny. I'm NOT Eric's best friend-" he pointed accusatory at the blondes chest, poking it hard, "YOU ARE, so quit your yapping!," he shouted annoyed, causing Kenny to frowned from the tone use.
God, those two have been up their necks since Cartman left, and Kyle couldn't point out why.
Kyle stood there awkwardly as he watch the two bark back at each other like two hounds with no leash, spitting venom and acidic slurs at each other.
'They should shut up already and go make out somewhere else, fuck' he thought annoyingly tired by the dragged banter.
Oblivious of the irony of his own thoughts.
Not wanting for them to escalate any further he stood between them, like a peacemaker.
"If we either become queermo pussies or boring ass side characters, your choice!" he threatened, pointing at the pissed off blonde.
Butters sighed contemplating it, grumbled a 'why should I choose?' As he kicked lightly the ground.
"Or do you have something you're hiding from us, Butters?" Kenny inquired suspiciously, tilting his head.
Butters clenched his fist, fuming, "fuck you!" He screamed out, pushing Kyle to the side before lounging at Kenny starting a fist fight in the hall, now everyone gathering up around them.
Kenny slammed his notebook hard against Butters face while Butters pushed Kenny against the lockers.
'This was some serious shit,' Kyle thought before taking out his phone and recording the fight for later on send it to Stan.
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fandomfluffandfuck · 1 year
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Evanstan + stress, sex, and cigarettes:
(PSA, obviously, don't smoke. I am aware I'm part of the problem by sexualizing cigarettes. (Sorry sorry sorry.))
Tonight I'm thinking about Chris being very stressed and craving a cigarette. He knows he really shouldn't, but... just one? It could be nice, right? Something in the back of his mind whispers that it would take his mind off of things--that it'd even slow his mind down, forcing it to stop spinning and just focus on the inhale and exhale.
Sebastian, on the other hand, knows that Chris is stressed, and he also definitely gets what it's like to have that itch. Seb himself gets the itch sometimes, still. Even after quitting years ago.
So, wanting to help, Seb offers to distract Chris in a fun but also serious way--willingly offering himself up. Sex, in general, is good for blowing off steam. Sex, for them specifically, is also good for blowing off steam because having control of something can relax Chris. Also, though, Sebastian might just want it for himself too. A little. Sex for relieving stress can get wild 😮‍💨 they've done it before and they'll do it again...
Whatever, it makes sense. Even so, Sebastian blushes while he says it to Chris.
And Chris takes Sebastian up on it. Right then and there.
The itch doesn't entirely go away for Chris though.
Their scene ends with Sebastian still a little messy, spit and cum smeared over his flushed face, his lips red and swollen, and his eyes mostly closed savoring the buzz because Chris eagerly fucked his mouth. Sebastian is kneeling naked on their private back deck. It's a warm summer evening. It feels nice. He doesn't need clothes, he just needs Chris. He wants to make sure Chris is alright.
Anything, anything, anything, Seb's whole body sings, seemingly swaying with the gentle wind as well as the beat of that word through him. Sebastian is floating. He hopes Chris is too.
Chris has crashed back down onto a deck chair. Gathering his breath.
And he's smoking now, still unable to shake the craving, but at the same time, he's combing his fingers through Sebastian's fuck-messy hair. Chris is quietly talking to Seb between long, hazy exhales. Praising him. Telling him he's good and he's so sweet, always helping him. Always wanting to help. Always wanting to be good. He is good.
As a result of smoking--even just for a few minutes--his voice is extra husky and low, and Sebastian kind of just wants to roll over and show Chris his stomach because of it. He got off from Chris owning his mouth, without a finger laid between his thighs, but before long he's going to have to be greedy rather than selfless and climb into Chris' lap and mewl for more. Maybe just a few more moments of stress relief?
Now, with this short addition of the aftermath 👀
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haedgaf · 1 month
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luffysbasement · 2 years
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hello, i'm finally distancing myself from mcyt :]
it's been really fun!! i loved drawing for everyone, for my interest and esp just interacting with you all. this fandom brought me my friends and different experiences and emotions that are rly unforgettable but i think it's time. thank you for everything, i appreciate you all! ♡♡ pls do stay safe and take care of yourselves!
(my art will remain here ofc but i will most likely be turning this blog into how it was before, multifandom, personal and just a bunch of whatever!)
#the shorter version is the post#ill be here in the tags to talk more :]#honestly im pretty grey on the situation and im just rly waiting for whats gonna happen#thats not why im leaving (mostly) i think its abt time to accept im getting tired of how the experience is of being a drm stan#i loved the man i rly do hes been with me for the entire pandemic him and his videos helped me get through it#but its kind of a bummer that just by being a fan u get exposed to antis and their nonstop scheme of just starting up shit#and that everytime something new comes up you keep hoping its just an accusation but at the same time u feel terrible and anxious anyway#ive alrdy distanced myself from twt and by extension even tumblr bc i thought if i just keep drawing and not looking at my socials those#dramas wont reach me (they still do and it sucks lol but i did get a peace of mind just being free of social media)#at some point i started losing interest in mcyt in general the only thing keeping me was drm not even mccs nor other ccs rly just drm#but then recent thing happened and yeah :/ idk what to think im lost and honestly just tired of stuff like this#thats the final straw i think i dont rly want my mental health tearing up over whether to worry abt things i alrdy stress over abt (w the#college and family stuff) and freaking minecraft youtubers fandom#i think whatever the outcome is im just over it if drm comes out innocent i dont think i can let go of him yet#so ill prob still be checking up on hm and watching him by myself#if not then thats that.#stilli cant deny the fact that it rly has been an amazing two almost three years#i hope you all stay safe and takecare of yourselves ♡#if anyone still wants to see my art im just hanging out in my onepiece sideblog lol @/luffysbasement
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tinamybeloved · 9 months
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wait ive been watching feinberg for ages but always thought he doesnt like dream esp considering his reaction to when dream went around donating to speedrunners
I was #notaroundbackthen but I think past the sr controversy he genuinely does not give a fuck he is extremely neutral on him and has in the past shut down unnecessary Dream neg in his chat + been in vc with people making jokes about Dream and did not join in and ignored what they were saying lmao. I wouldn’t say he’s his biggest fan but at least openly he isn’t spreading negativity which for someone in mc.sr I deeply appreciate
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dadralt · 1 year
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it’s 6am, i only got like 3 hours of sleep max cause i was thinking too loudly about the blorbos so here’s some disk horse
tired of everything always revolving around jaskier. how so many people write geralt as this asshole who was mean to their uwu baby. then s2 happened and oh, yen was nice to the uwu baby, now she will go to the coast with him and take care of him and.
really?
do y’all really not manage to care about someone other than jaskier? is it that hard????
geralt and yennefer are their own people and not just tools ffs :/
this also goes for ciri who doesn’t seem to exist outside of “oh let me play matchmaker”
and of course also goes for eskel, the original anti-geralt who would treat the uwu bard so nicely unlike his brother who’s mean and evil
i’m tired lads..........
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danzafila · 1 year
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Didn't Thales cause all of El's grief and pain tho, and not Rhea and the Church, or Claude and Dimitri, or the random poor people living in Remire, or any of the other parties she's dedicated her life to destroying?
yeah this is a big part of what makes her work well as a sympathetic but ultimately misguided villain, but causes her to fall so flat as a hero for me. Thales and the agarthans were the ones responsible for all her grief and pain and she KNOWS this, yet they successfully manipulate and twist her into wrongfully focusing all that rage and bloody quest for justice on an innocent third party instead. in doing so, she makes a personal tragedy into the entire freaking world’s problem and ruins so many more lives to get back at the world for a wrong those actually facing her wrath weren’t responsible for.
she's a very tragic figure imo and 3H, regardless of route, is always a tragic story. but the whole tragedy of the game/her war is something she directly causes. it works great as a motivation for a tragic and sympathetic villain to be so terribly misguided in their quest, but horrible for a hero to spend their entire game attacking the wrong freaking party and completely ignoring the actual responsible party, only relegating dealing with the true villain to an offscreen epilogue (while freaking working with them the entire actual game to boot).
this is kind of related, but I think it's a great example of how one of her greatest strengths is also one of her greatest weaknesses (and I love, love, love when a character has a strength/weakness like that). she’s incredibly driven, confident, and self-assured, which allows her to achieve her goals despite the cost, challenge, and the world standing in her way. but it also means she can be absolutely blinded to anything that might challenge her beliefs/goals; she won’t question the lies she’s fed if they support the worldview she wants to believe and will press on regardless, turning a blind eye to anything that challenges the truth of the path she’s set for herself.
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biillys · 2 years
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ehhhh how bout a very vaguely supernatural meets ghost fiIes inspired au
neil being raised in hunting and bringing his wife into it and then his newborn son. his wife leaving eventually, becos she couldn't handle it anymore, and she desperately wanted to take her baby boy with her, but he already knew too much, and she couldn't protect him like neil could. she also couldn't protect him from neil, but there were bigger monsters than humans, and after one too many close calls, she leaves.
billy's left in neil's supernatural capable hands.
life on the road with his dad is rough, jumping around from place to place, never being somewhere long enough to call home, no extended family or old family friends to stay at for long hot summers. just him and his dad, his dads hot and cold temper, and the open road. that's all billy knows.
then one day, they're on a hunt, and there's a freshly divorced mother and her hotheaded stubborn daughter, and billy watches as his dad continues to charm them even after they've eradicated the simple ghost, watches as the mum falls for every word and practiced smile, and suddenly it's the four of them on the road.
susan seems weak, looks awkward with a gun in her hands, still jumps at the slightest bump when they're clearing out a house, but neil's patient with her, repeats the steps on how to fire and clean the gun day after day, holds her fucking hand whenever he notices her tensing up, and billy wants to scream.
neil locked billy in the shed of the place they were renting when he was six becos he fumbled the gun. fucking belted him that one time in texas when he accidentally let a monster get away becos he was scared, like billy actively let the fucking thing get away for fun and not becos he was frozen paralysed, listening to it rattle of things that billy knew he'd never said out loud.
his dad never told him it could get into your head.
max is better about it, but still a fucking pain. at least she doesn't seem to be a baby about everything. if billy's being honest, max has handled the transition from normal suburban life to life on the road and hunting monsters like a champ. too bad neil's basically placed her entire wellbeing and care into billy's hands, and the rope billy's felt around his neck his entire life's went from snug to fucking choking.
life goes on though, and eventually billy's old enough to buy his own car, do his own hunts. max rides with him more often than not, mostly out of habit, but also becos she'd pick being stuck with her asshole older step-brother for weeks at a time over spending even just an hour in close quarters with her piece of shit step-dad.
turns out, life on the road with just billy is good. he's like a completely different person when he can breathe without his dad taking up all the air. he's even fun on occasion. actually talks her through what they're hunting, why they're hunting it, lets her actually help.
(she accidentally tripped on a tree root one time on a hunt with the family when she was younger, and one sprained wrist later, she was banned from coming on anymore. she tried to argue it was a simple tree root, and that billy slipped a disc in his spine getting thrown against a brick wall just last month, but neil put his foot down. said susan was worried, and if susan was worried, neil was worried. billy was a big boy, he could walk it off. max was delicate, she had to be kept safe. billy wouldn't even look at her for at least a week after that fight.)
the time between seeing their parents slowly grows longer and longer between each trip the longer they're away. it started off with just a few days off on a side hunt before reuniting within the week, but then the few-days-hunts turned into few-weeks-hunts, and suddenly it felt like they were only seeing their parents for special occasions.
but the longer they were away, the lighter they became. the first time max hears billy refer to her as his sister, no tone, no stressed step sister, just sister, she does a double take. doesn't dare bring it up 'til they get back to the motel they were crashing at. billy rolls his eyes, bitches about not needing to give some fucking random his entire life story.
they bond over hating neil and hating susan's life choices, get competitive over who can figure out the monster of the week first, and turn the other way when one ~accidentally lets a monster get away.
(the first time billy let a monster get away on purpose, he waited up all night, expecting his dad to burst into the room and knock some sense into him. accuse him of being just as monstrous, just another fucking killer, reckless, letting them get away like that. his dad was 6 states away and deep into a hunt of his own, but billy had second guessed his choice since the second he walked away earlier that evening, refreshing the local news site constantly waiting for another body to drop, to prove the voice in his head that sounded exactly like neil right, that he was a failure of a hunter, falling for the sob story and bullshit the monster spilled and pleaded and promised with on what should have been it's last moments.)
(billy knows real monsters though, and despite what his mother said to him in the last memory he has of her, humans were always worse. most things neil taught billy to hunt were harmless. he's trying so fucking hard to teach this to max. to make sure innocent blood never drips from her hands the way it does his.)
anyway: to the ghost fiIes part of this. i think it would be FUN if, in a big Fuck You And Everything You Stand For to his dad, that one time on a hunt, billy's having a casual joyful yelling match with a ghost, and max whips out her phone and records, uploads it to her insta, and one or two people watch.
then one time, theyre trying to get a demon to fuck off, and billy's trying to fucking sales pitch hell to them, like billy's ever even been there, and max whips out her phone again. a few more people watch.
slowly max builds a following. is always careful to frame every video in such a way that monsters stay the stuff of legends, but make it realistic enough that if you know - you know. starts to gradually add herself to this mix. soon, her and billy are going into legitimately haunted houses just to chat to ghosts, record the whole thing, and chuck the best moments up on youtube.
the first time neil sees a clip, sees his son terrorising a ghost - but not in a hunt-to-kill sort of way, but just for jokes, for a laugh sort of way - he drives for three days straight to sort him out in person. gets him up and crowded against the paper thin wall, asking if he thinks it's funny, what ghosts are capable of doing, if he thinks it's a joke, all those people they were too late to save. if he thinks his mother left him, all over a laugh. billy wishes he didn't buckle under the weight, wishes his voice didn't shake when he answered, but he caught max's eye over his dad's shoulder, and she had a gun in one hand, and her knife in the other, and billy's seen her look at poltergeists that have threatened her life more kindly than the way she's looking at neil in the moment. billy gathers what little strength he can pull, juts his chin out and glares as dirty as possible. finds his voice and kicks his dad out of the motel room, managing to shake his dad off in the split second of shock neil has over billy not instantly caving. max echoing billy's demands, telling neil to get the fuck out. to go protect her mother, since he trapped her into a life she'll never be able to survive on her own, and to keep her safe, and to stay the fuck out of theirs.
basically BASICALLY i'm watching ghost fiIes and i just think billy and max in a supernatural world but like, in a fun way, would be GOOD SHIT. and i want billy to still be lowkey scared of ghosts and demons becos he has seen the havoc they can create first hand, the families they can destroy in just a heartbeat, so he's always a little tense attending a haunting, but he goes in every time, becos its all he's ever done, becos max told him on a bad night once that she thought he was brave, and he talks (and yells and screams and mocks and, occasionally, cries) to them and slowly he starts to find himself and get his life together, helping all these fucking trapped and usually scared and also so so so angry ghosts. helps them to the best of his ability. listens to them when they wail. talks to them when they cry. he starts to heal.
max grows, too, having watched something invisible, with no physical form whatsoever, tear her father to shreds, just weeks after the divorce, to driving around the country with her brother, spending nights in houses so haunted it would scare a priest, adjusting to loving her mother from a distance, cos she'll never understand why she fell for the shit neil was offering, why she stuck around, gripping his hand tight, that first time neil lost his shit at billy in front of them. why she continued to hold his hand, going as far as to look the other way, the first time neil laid into her for not getting detailed enough research for a case, blaming her for his broken ribs and her mother's dislocated shoulder. billy silently offering her an ice pack that night in the darkness, wordlessly passing over some pills and a glass of water.
billy made a point to look over her research from then on out, just in case.
max thinks her life could've turned out a whole lot better if her dad never died, if neil and billy never entered it. but she's pretty sure that out of every option she could've had, that the way it is now, her and billy making some silly youtube show, confronting their own nightmares night after night, saving monsters, hunting things, this is the best option.
OKAY literally none of this captured my original thought of billy and max just fucking around in haunted houses and annoying the dead.
max knowing shits real but billy would swear with the way she acts and talks that she thinks it's all horseshit. billy wouldn't even call her brave, she genuinely just doesn't seem to give a fuck. she's got a fuck with Me attitude and billy gets it, okay, if he were already dead, be wouldn't try anything on her either, imagine dying once by falling down an elevator shaft then getting fucking slayed again by a seventeen yr old who failed her learners permit, not once, but twice. billy'd back the fuck off, too.
billy being a lil scared in a extremely fucking haunted houses, knowing full well that demons were real and they were here, in this very room, and max telling him to shut the fuck up whilst pushing him into the portal, aka the closet, and telling him to turn his light off and talk to it. billy, bitching under his breath, you talk to it, but still standing there, light off, stupid little camera on, opening a line of communication. his usual tactic for getting through the night being to raise absolute hell. if he's gonna chill with demons, the dead, and inter-dimensional freaks all night, he was gonna make sure they were just as fucked up about him as he was them.
feel like this STILL doesn't capture what i was originally going for but anyway if u watch ghost fiIes you Know. thank you for reading if you've made it this far also sincerest apologies for whatever the fuck this is
#i do NOT know.#i just think ghost fiIes is fun and itd be funner if we ever found out that they DID have a full on encounter#they just decided not to air it to KeEp iT LiGhT etc#and also i just think that spinning the wheel on what backstory of childhood trauma we can bend to shape around billy and max is Necessary#billy hating his father but also. its his dad. and he had an isolated childhood that kept him relient. so he hates his dad but his dad#really is all he's ever known. hard to hate somewhere with the full feeling when you don't really know any different#someone*#he resents his mother. mainly for leaving. for using the excuse that it wasnt safe for her to stay but it wasnt safe for him to go.#resents her for trying to convince him that neil wasnt the scariest thing in the world. that there was more to fear.#when he KNOWS that thats not true. it took him a while to see it. took a hellva lot of growing up and wising uo#wising up*#but eventually he finally fucking got what his mum was trying to say. and realised she was fucking wrong.#MAX being just as fucked up about everything as billy is except shes better at processing it. doesnt have an entire childhood to drag#her down and fuck her up. alls she knows is that her parents got divorced. the custody battle got messy. then suddenly her dad was dead#blood everywhere and her mum was a wreck and terrified.#then suddenly the world got a whole lot bigger yet shrunk down to just one car and four passengers#and life was never the same again#(she was never as brave as billy thought she was. she just never got to experience the horrors he had. never been walked away from#a sprained wrist here and a cut to the cheek there. some nasty bruises every other week. but she was never in any real danger.#im too tired now and none of this is what im trying to say ugh Anyway. stream ghost fiIes. stan billy & max. thanku#m#nqff
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lokisflame · 1 month
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Look, smart dean is very personal, precious and dear to me
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy
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synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help
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contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!
word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)
notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋
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he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.
he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 
what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.
“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”
“you’re late,” you spit.
“am i? i could have sworn—”
“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 
“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 
what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.
“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”
“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”
typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.
he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 
i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 
but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 
he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 
you hate him.
“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”
“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”
“what?” your eye twitches.
“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”
before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.
“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”
“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”
is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.
“you’re an asshole,” you spit.
“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 
“i saw you post on your story last night—”
“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”
“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”
“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”
“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.
“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.
“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”
“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”
“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”
“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.
—————
like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.
hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished
btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 
i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him
oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)
you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.
okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.
k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.
the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.
wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?
that’s ok i don’t judge
so how bout the party? 
i can be ur escort ;) 
it’ll be fun!
from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.
—————
gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 
frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.
he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 
it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 
why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 
gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 
“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 
why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.
“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.
gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.
“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.
“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”
“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”
“he has a name. it’s—”
“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”
“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?
“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”
“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.
okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.
he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”
“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”
“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”
“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”
“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”
“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”
“you mentioned it first!”
“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”
“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”
“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”
he is not lazy, he wants to argue.
but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 
—————
the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 
gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 
“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”
“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.
“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”
you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 
“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.
“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”
you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”
he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 
“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”
“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.
“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 
settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.
“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”
he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.
“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”
“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”
you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 
okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.
“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 
“what makes you say that?”
“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”
he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.
“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”
“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.
“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”
“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 
but not so bad. 
“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”
“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”
“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”
—————
“hey, satoru?”
“that’s not my name.”
“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.
“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 
you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.
“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.
“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”
“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”
“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”
“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”
finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.
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satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real
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hecateslore · 3 months
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💌♥️
olderboyfriend!Simon
"You get home safe?" you hear as you hold your phone close to your face. "Yeah." you smile at his concern, "You coming over later?" you ask.
"I'll think about it." you can hear the smirk in his voice. "I don't like uncertainty Mr.Riley." you tease, "I'm aware Ma'am." he jokes which causes a grin to from on your face.
"I gotta go, but I'll call you before I leave. yeah?" He says sighing into the phones mic. "Yeah." you respond. "Love you." he says,
"Love you too."
-
You hear the keys from outside of your door, you were standing in the kitchen getting a glass of cranberry juice (cranberry juice stans riseeeee).
Simon opens the door fully expecting you to be asleep, He took his boots and mask off. "Why're you up?" Simon asked as he took his tactical gear. Voice hoarse from yelling all day.
"Couldn't sleep." you say pouring more juice into your cup. Simon hums walking towards you. Standing by your side, he rubs your back as you take another sip from your glass. "you want to shower?" he asks softly, hand traveling down to hold your lower back. (you know when dogs do that one thing with chew toys, like they shake their head and growl, thats me.)
"took one already." you frown, "i'll be right back then." he gives you a kiss on the cheek and you watch him walk towards your bedroom.
Eventually you finish you finish your cup of juice and head back into you room and plop on your bed, staring up at the ceiling you can hear the shower running. The shower stops and you hear the door click, Simon wanders to your closet looking for some pajama pants he left.
You watch him from the bed, staring at the way his muscles flex as he opens drawers and closes them. He finally finds a pair and puts them on and lays on the bed beside you. "what'd you do today?" he asks adjusting himself on the bed, the pain in his shoulder bothering him in the position he's in. "Went to work, came home, watched some tv then took a shower, took a nap and woke up before you got here and now I'm laying here with you." you look at him and notice the little crease between his brow. you use two fingers to rub between his eyebrows, Simon kisses the fingers that touch his lips softly. "Eventful day." he laughs through his nose. "yup." you hum.
"You know you didn't kiss me today." you prod him in the forehead. "I did." he says defensively. "The cheek doesn't count."
"You didn't want to shower with me." Simon sits up on his elbow, "Cause I took one already." you exclaim, "Loser." he pokes you in the rib cage. "Here, " Simon dips his head to give you a kiss on the lips, giving you small pecks before he pulls away.
"How was your day?" You remember to ask, tracing the shape of his eyebrows. "It was good, long but good." he yawns. "sleepy?" he nods, "Are you gonna be up all night?" you laugh at his question, "Maybe."
Simon only shakes his head at your response. "Well I'm going to bed." Simon pulls the blankets over him, "you're gonna sleep with the lights on." Simon groans before getting up to flip the switch.
You feel his big frame cause a dip in the bed, "Come 'ere." Simon mutters before he grabs your arm and pulls you towards him. Making sure to drape your leg over his lower abdomen.
"Simon?" you call out his name "Hm."
"Love you."
"Love you too."
my asks are open!!!!
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atlabeth · 5 months
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bleedin' me dry | luke castellan
runaway with luke ending here!!
summary: luke has a proposal. it doesn't go over well.
a/n: so um. obviously im a huge percy jackson stan ive got annabeth in my name and ive literally wanted to be her since i read the books in second grade and by virtue of being an annabeth stan i hate luke but i also think he is so interesting and so good for angst and i also love the pjo resurgence we’ve got going on here from the show!! so here you go. here's some angst
title from vampire by olivia rodrigo
wc: 2.8k
warning(s): fem!child of demeter reader. luke is his own warning lmao. pushy and manipulative behavior, not the healthiest relationship! and no happy ending
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“You know I love the forest,” you mused, “but you have to have a reason for bringing me out here.”
He gave you a wry smile as he squeezed your hand. “Do I have to have a reason? You said you love it—that’s gotta be reason enough.”
“I love it, but there are monsters here.” You twisted your free hand and flowers sprouted up a few feet away. “It does give me a chance to show off, though.”
You were in your cabin helping Katie clean up everything—it was the last day of summer and most of the Demeter kids had already left—when Luke knocked on the door and asked you to accompany him on “a little adventure”. Despite the teasing of your siblings, you bashfully accepted.
It wasn’t the smartest thing, admittedly, to find yourself in the forest with your boyfriend with a couple hours ‘til curfew when you still weren’t even sure if you were leaving or not, but you had your dagger. Luke didn’t have his sword, but you had been practicing.
It wasn’t like it really mattered, anyways—he probably just wanted to make out with you. It was far from the first time, and for all he knew you were leaving for the school year in a few hours.
He chuckled but didn’t say anything. You looked up at him, a slight frown creasing your brows, and nudged him with your shoulder.
“Is everything okay, Luke?” you asked. “You’ve been… oddly quiet.”
Again, it took him a moment to respond before he just shrugged. “I’ve been thinking, I guess.”
“About what?”
“Life,” he said. “Our lives.”
“Very philosophical for the hour,” you said dryly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Luke nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask away.”
“Have you ever thought about leaving?”
“I’m still deciding whether I want to go back home for school or not, but—”
“Not after the summer,” Luke interrupted. “Leaving camp. For good.”
You frowned, a chill running down your spine. “Of course not. Camp Halfblood saved my life, Luke. I could never leave.”
“Says who?” Luke stopped and your intertwined hands pulled you back, stopping you as well.
“Says all the monsters that tried to kill me last time I went home,” you said slowly. “Don’t tell me you forgot the dracaena that nearly got me on that field trip.”
“‘Course I didn’t forget,” he said, inclining his head. “I just think you’re good enough now to make it without this place.”
“Luke,” you said with a strained laugh, “you— you can’t be serious.”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because if we leave, we’ll die,” you said slowly. “I barely made it on my own out there.”
“You’re more powerful now. And you won’t be on your own,” he said, tugging you closer. Despite it all, warmth bloomed in your chest. “I can protect you.”
“Luke…” You trailed off as he cupped your cheek with his other hand, bringing your gaze back to his.
“What’s the point of staying here?” Luke murmured, an unmistakable softness in his eyes. “Just so we can sit around at summer camp for the rest of our lives? I mean, it’s not like that’s gonna be much longer, the way Chiron tells it.”
“I ha— we have friends here,” you said, huffing another laugh as you took a step back from him. It was easier to think when he wasn’t touching you, when you were still able to sever the string connecting the two of you. “We have a life here. A safe life, Luke, where we don’t have to look over our shoulders constantly.”
“Not me.” Luke shook his head as he moved a step forward in tandem, and he took your hand again, his grip tighter this time. “You’re the only thing I’ve got keeping me here.”
“Please,” you said in disbelief. “You’ve got a whole cabin of siblings that adore you. You’re the best swordfighter here. I’m pretty sure even Mr. D has a soft spot for you.”
“Please,” he mocked, “you can’t seriously believe that.”
You shrugged. “All I know is that when you finally asked me out, I gained a whole lot of enemies.”
“Like that means anything,” Luke said.
“The kids love you too!” you exclaimed. “Their eyes light up with stars whenever you help them with their sparring. You’re a beacon of light to this place— where is all of this coming from?”
“I’m tired,” Luke said roughly. “Tired of the gods ignoring us when all they’ve caused is pain.”
You frowned, but he continued on.
“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed it?” he asked. “When’s the last time you ever saw my dad give me any kind of attention besides some fun-colored smoke? He ruined my mother’s life— he ruined my life! And our cabin is damn near overflowing with unclaimed kids. Where are their parents?
“Luke—”
He shook his head as he forged on. “And you can’t say that Demeter is any good either. I bet she makes your cereal tastes real good in the morning, but she’s abandoned you for your whole life.”
“Luke, where is this coming from?” you asked, your frown deepening further and further as you let go of his hand and took a step back. “You— you know I’m not a fan of them, but you can’t just go around saying things like this. The last thing I need is for my mother to— to smite me, or strangle me with vines or something because I’m not appreciating her enough.”
Luke huffed a laugh. “That would be the most attention she’s paid to you since she claimed you.”
“She’s a goddess,” you said. “She’s got more important things to do than send me emails asking how my day is going.”
“Really?” Luke asked, his eyebrows rising.
“Yes, really,” you enunciated. “I expect it. I consider myself lucky she claimed me at all.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” he marveled as he said your name. “Your mother has never been there for you, and you think you’re lucky?”
“Luke—” you started, but you couldn’t even finish as he continued on.
“Demeter wasn’t there for the year you spent feeling like the scum of the Earth because you hadn’t been claimed yet. Demeter wasn’t there for the childhood she gifted to you then abandoned you for.” He pushed forward still. “Demeter wasn’t there for all those sleepless nights you spent in the Hermes cabin wondering if you were ever going to know who got you into this mess.”
“Luke, stop,” you finally managed to get out, moving back in turn.
“You know who was?” He continued to forge on, capturing your wrist when you tried to take another step back, eliciting a shaky exhale as you flinched. “Me.”
You ripped your arm away from him, fire in your eyes and blazing in your blood. “Don’t ever touch me like that again.”
“I’ve been here for you since the moment you stepped foot into Cabin Eleven!” Luke’s voice rose, and you’d never been more aware of the dagger hanging off your belt. “Through every tear, every tirade, every godsdamned rant about the gods—”
You stumbled back, and your heart stuttered in your chest as your back hit a tree. Your jaw was clenched, attempting to stop your tremors trying to wrack your body.
“And you’re telling me,” his voice suddenly lowered until it was scarily soft, little more than a whisper as he leaned over you, noses nearly touching, “that you would still choose them over me?”
“If you do not get away from me right now,” you said, quiet and even, “what we have, and anything we could have, will be over.”
Luke didn’t move. “Answer me.”
For a moment, it was just that—you and Luke staring at each other. His chest rising and falling just so from the effort of yelling, his beautiful eyes devoid of any previous softness. You thought your teeth might crack with the pressure in your jaw.
“No,” you said. “I wouldn’t choose them over you.”
And for an even shorter moment, his eyes do soften.
“But I won’t leave my family,” you whispered. “Not for whatever cause you think you’re fighting for.”
And just like that, the armor went up again.
“So that’s the way this ends,” Luke said evenly, and when he moved a few steps back, you felt like you could finally breathe again.
“You know who I am,” you argued, though you couldn’t make yourself move. “My siblings are my family— my friends are my family. I’d never leave them.”
“Oh, I should have expected it,” he said offhandedly. His laughter was a cruel thing. “I always knew you were a coward.”
“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” you spat. “Why do you even want to leave in the first place?”
“Because I’m sick and tired of all the bullshit that goes on here!” Luke yelled. “We’ve been here for years, and what the hell do we have to show for it? A couple scars? A lot of near death experiences? Some deadbeat parents that ruined our damned lives?”
“I have a family that I never could’ve dreamed of!” you exclaimed. “I have sisters and brothers that love me, friends that understand me, and—”
Your voice broke for a moment and you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the tears back. Some of the fire burning through your veins had been extinguished as you continued.
“And I thought I had a boyfriend that was there for me.”
It was there again—his eyes softening ever so slightly when he looked at you. But then he clenched his jaw. “And I thought I had a girlfriend that was there for me.”
“I won’t leave,” you enunciated. “I’m not going to help you with whatever crusade you think you’re meant to lead against the gods!”
“You don’t understand,” he insisted.
“You don’t understand!” you exclaimed. “You’re ready to leave all of this behind, and for what?”
“I don’t want to leave it all behind,” he said. “I want you by my side. We could be something truly great together— can’t you see?”
Luke took your hand again and pulled you away from the tree, gesturing with his hand around you. “You can control all of this. The whole world is your domain—we’d be untouchable.”
“Luke, you sound crazy,” you said roughly. “Where is all of this coming from, seriously?”
“I just know that we can live a better life,” he said. “Together, without the gods.”
“Witho—” You couldn’t even manage to finish the word, shaking your head at the pure absurdity of it. You hardly recognized your boyfriend purely because of the insanity he was spouting. “Luke, we don’t need to leave! We don’t need to stand against the gods, or— or whatever this is!”
This time, you took his hand as you tried to smile. “We can make this work, Luke, and we can make it work here,” you begged. “I promise.”
“Things need to change,” he said, voice steely, pulling his hand away. “And they’re clearly not going to change here.”
“Yes, they can,” you insisted, your hands clenching into fists at your side. “I want things to change too, believe me! But going off on your own isn’t going to do anything for it. We can start it here—together.”
His eyes were colder than ever as he looked down on you, and you truly didn’t recognize him. The glint in his eye and edges you would cut yourself on and the insanity he was spouting for no damn reason. You didn’t know what in Hades’ name had gotten into him.
“All we do is sit around and wait for that hag in the attic to spout prophecies, and then Chiron sends some kids off to die, and then we sit around and wait to do it again,” Luke said. “The gods keep making kids and the kids keep dying because they leave them in the world alone— we’re practically grandparents here because we’re lucky to make it past sixteen! The gods don’t do a damn thing about it, and neither does Chiron.”
He shook his head as he stared right into your eyes. “You’re not as smart as I thought if you think you can change anything here.”
“So— so what?” you asked brazenly. “You’re just gonna leave?”
Luke shrugged. “I was always gonna leave. It just depended whether you were with me or not.”
He turned around and started walking, and for a moment you were fully dumbstruck, unable to move. Then something snapped inside of you, and you moved your hands straight up through the air. Vines sprouted from the ground and tangled around Luke’s legs, stopping him and nearly causing him to fall.
“You don’t just get to walk away from me after spouting this bullshit,” you fumed as you ran to catch up with him. “What in Demeter’s name has gotten into you, Luke? Gods— this isn’t you!”
“See?” Luke smiled, ignoring your question. “You are powerful.”
“Answer me,” you seethed.
He shrugged, that small smile still on his lips. “It’s always been me. Maybe you’ve just been too stupid to realize.”
“Where are you going to go?” you asked, ignoring his jab. “Not home, clearly.”
It was a deep cut, something you never would have said under normal circumstances, but his expression didn’t change.
“I’ve got plans,” he said, ignoring your jab, and he huffed a laugh. “And I guess they don’t involve you anymore.”
All you could do was stand there, stunned as you stared at him. It was cliche, but it really wasn’t him, because you loved Luke and he loved you.
He’d always been a bit spitfire, always a little sharp around the edges, but you loved that about him—and he softened those edges for you. He was strong-willed and caring and passionate about everything, and you didn’t want to lose him. Not like this.
You knew what he’d been through. You knew what happened to his mother, what happened to Thalia, everyone he’d lost and every reason for every scar. But you never thought—
Gods. You never thought he’d actually do… this.
“Let me go, will ya?” Luke asked, tilting his head. “Or else what we have will be over— or whatever it was you said back there.”
The vines receded against your will, like his words just connected to your subconscious. You stayed rooted in place as he continued walking away.
But then he stopped. Turned around, looked right at you.
And for a moment you were fourteen again, feeling alone and forgotten going into your third month in the Hermes cabin. Grumbling your way through sword practice because the excited camp counselor who just happened to be your age refused to let you sulk for another day.
It was days after your fifteenth birthday, and the golden sickle with sheaths of wheat had finally appeared over your head at lunch. Luke had lunged at you, wrapping you in the tightest hug possible, and looked at you with all the stars in your eyes as he congratulated you. He helped you move your meager belongings into the Demeter cabin the very next day.
It was the first time you decided to go home since arriving at camp, and Luke was sidled outside your door, making wry comments every so often as he kept you company while you packed.
It was him kissing you right before you went over the hill because he said he couldn’t keep his feelings in any longer. It was you kissing him right back wondering why he waited so damn long.
It was three years of the best thing you’d ever experienced, of the most steadfast companion you could’ve had by your side—three years of Luke Castellan’s love.
Then you blinked, and you were back in the woods. Luke’s expression had softened, but the brimming tears in your eyes blurred your vision.
“I really did love you, y’know,” Luke finally murmured. “But you should know that love isn’t ever enough.”
He was out of your view before you could even muster the strength to move again, and then you were running through the forest faster than ever before.
But when you reached Cabin Eleven, there was no sign of him. And when you checked the pavilion and the forge and the amphitheater and the training arena and every other godsdamned place, you were just as disappointed.
But by the time you got to Chiron and found out the chaos that had spouted in his wake, that he had wanted you to be a part of, it was much, much too late.
Percy Jackson was fighting for his life. Camp had been left in complete disarray. Luke was working for Kronos.
And the man you loved was truly gone.
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