#i planned on doing more of these but i figured this was enough for now

[dyaz-stories]

don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.

“Was I off script?”

You look up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

word count: 5.4k

genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life

cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy

a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)

soundtrack

Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.

Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.

Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.

But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.

With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.

Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.

Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.

“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”

That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.

There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.

“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”

And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.

“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.

The world freezes.

A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.

You’d never asked.

But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”

There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.

“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”

“Come on, don’t act like—”

“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”

“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.

“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.

Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.

When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.

“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.

“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”

“When have I ever bothered anyone—”

She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”

He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.

It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.

You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.

“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

“Sure,” Shoko says.

“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.

“No,” Gojo whines.

“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.

“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.

Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.

But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.

So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.

That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.

Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.

Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.

He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.

“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.

Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.

He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.

He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—

“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.

“Huh?” you say.

He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.

His gaze drops to your parted lips.

Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.

“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”

“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.

“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”

That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.

“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”

“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”

“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”

Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.

This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.

“Are we getting in or what?”

“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”

Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.

The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.

The time is good.

“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”

It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.

“You okay?” you ask.

Ah, so she does speak.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”

“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”

His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.

“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.

You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.

“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”

“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.

You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.

“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”

“And I was off script?”

You glance back up at him.

“You’re always off script.”

For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.

“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”

“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”

He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.

Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.

“It’s not too cold?” you ask.

“All good,” he repeats.

Shit. He’s invested again.

“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”

“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”

“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.

“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.

“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”

Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.

Gojo doesn’t.

“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.

“You never know what—”

“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.

The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.

She’d been right but like, that was still rude.

The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.

Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.

There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.

“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”

“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”

“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"

“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.

“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.

“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”

Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.

“I’ll go get her.”

“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”

As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”

“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.

He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.

A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.

Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”

“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.

Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.

“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”

Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.

“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”

Gojo pauses.

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”

He’s sure he has, but—

“You were listening to that?”

You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.

“Of course I was. You were talking.”

“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”

You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.

“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”

Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.

“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”

When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.

“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.

“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.

For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.

“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.

Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”

“You don’t have to—”

A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.

“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”

Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.

“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”

When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.

“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.

“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.

You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.

“You haven’t been on script once today.”

“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.

Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.

You don’t think it’s going to last.

Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.

“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.

Ha. He nailed it.

“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.

“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?

“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”

Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.

“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.

You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.

It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.

“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.

Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.

“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”

But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.

He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.

With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.

One more thing to remember.

“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.

You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.

“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.

“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”

Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.

A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.

The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.

The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.

When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.

Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.

Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.

When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.

You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.

Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.

“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”

“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.

“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”

“There you guys are!”

You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.

“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.

“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.

“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.

He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.

“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”

She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.

“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.

Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.

Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.

“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.

That, or these will become famous last words.

sequel

thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!

tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #my writing #gojo imagine #jjk imagine #jjk x y/n

[grugruel]

Say it Again

Pairings: Cooper Howard x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: For a long time, there'd been a quiet, reciding fondness between you and your companion. And when you finally journey back to your old vault, feelings are stirred from the depths and brought to the surface.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: (mentions of blood, violence, death), angst, pinv sex, passionate sex, strong feelings, "I love you", pet names (darlin', sweetheart, honey), hair pulling (squint and you'll miss it), overstimulation, creampie, praise (both recieving).

AN: Not yet proofread! Let me know what yall think about the music inserts. I figured since its such a big part of the fallout universe, I might aswell ad it in a fic too! Enjoy yall!!

The vault was open. . . It took my mind a few moments to wrap around the idea.

The thought of it being perpetually shut was so hard-wired into my being that I would've thought the gaping door a hallucination had it not been for my own departure a few months prior.

And I knew- I knew it ment nothing good. But perhaps they'd all left–alive, wandering the wasteland in search of better luck–a better life.

♪ Yes, pretending that I'm doing well

A familiar melody rang faint, barely reaching through the howling wind as it sang up a storm of scorching sand, whipping and tearing at my clothes.

In abivalence, I made my way toward the facade. Eyes examining the number 33 written in a bold, weathered font on the hefty external door.

A pang of guilt hit me–maybe I shouldn't have left, maybe I could've prevented whatever happened here. With the inhale of a calming breath, I stepped up to the construction, running the flat of my palm along the beaten but familar metal.

Then, without so much as a single thought of caution, I stepped over the threshold. The safety of a vault- my vault, was too fresh in my mind. That allong with the trust I placed in the hands of my shadow, suspecting his vigilance to be enough for the both of us.

Tracing the cool, grand archway with my fingertips as I entered, feeling the wear of oxidisation on its surface. Such a small detail I'd never payed any mind to before. How aged it was, yet still standing strong. A reminder of its resilience- of its impenetrable metal, planned to withstand outside threats for hundreds of years. And now, there it stood–wide open. The derision of the situation nagged me terribly.

♪ I'm lonely but no one can tell

When no longer veiled by the wind, the song sang clearly, its notes reverberating throughout the metal in a forboding fashion. Setting off a feeling of unease in the pit of my stumache.

While I stood familiarising myself again, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me, observing me. Monitoring my grief-struck and conflict ridden mind with a commiserating gaze. Their constant and reassuring prescence hovering behind me in semblance of a specter, keeping a respectful distance as my mind worked through what might have transpired while I was away.

♪ Oh yes, I'm the great pretender

The volume grew stronger as we made our way inside, my feet moving with slight hesitation as they clanged along the grated flooring.

♪ Adrift in a world of my own ♪

Stepping on the elevator, I steadied myself against the railing, feeling it vibrate beneath my hands with the frequency of the music. Those sweet well-known tunes only growing more and more eerie as we descended, accompanied by that strange constant hum from the bedrock, from the quiet. A white noise that only lived in vast open constructions such as this. Inhabiting the walls, the floor, and open spaces made from metal and stone.

A shiver ran down my spine, I'd never liked the quiet, despite the volume of the music, the quiet resounded. It'd always made to much noise in my mind.

♪ You've seen and you've left me to dream all alone

But when the doors opened to the floor below, a reassuring hand placed itself on the small of my back, amicably giving me a final push when I'd stood too long hesitating.

And it helped, it really did. The eclipsing stillness of the vault and the distorting of the music softened, fading and returning to that of good times–when they'd still existed.

♪ Too real is this feeling of make-believe

But the possibilities of what I might find ahead launched a gruesome assault on my mind. I tried distracting myself–thud, thud, thud. Our dull steps tapped against the floor. A pair of spurs clicking along with the steady rythm, leather groaning. Turns out I could only hear him, and I prefered it that way.

♪ Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal

It was a better focus then the constant searching for bloodsplatter and unmoving bodies, splayed out on the floor or tucked into a corner, seeking shelter, protection–spurs, leather-

I snapped back, the lyrics echoing in my mind and bouncing of the walls simultaneously, resonating throughout the empty halls as I jumped off of that dark train of thought before it could spiral further. The hands scrunched the fabric of my clothes, silently checking on me, attempting to refocus my mind. On the music, on him, anything was better.

♪ Yes, I'm the great pretender

I followed the words, thinking of the ones before and those to come. I still remember the list of songs. They'd played during weddings and social gatherings. We had them in our houses. I remember dancing in the kitchen, with swaying to the music with those I love. It was one of those moments which you knew you'd remeber forever, which would become a core part of you. Always to be looked back on, and sure enough.

I could't help myself from smiling, such fond memories. In my peripheral, his eyes softened. Still keeping his vigilant watch over my well-being, returning my smile with no intention of ever telling me, unkowing that I had indeed noticed him as he did so.

♪ Yes, just laughing and gay like a clown

But now, as I wandered the abandoned halls of the vault, they were only a tragic reminder of a time gone by–yet, I could see no bodies, no evidence of a fight or struggle–relief flooded through me. However, I still didn't dare make my way down to the compost section, I'd walked that path to many times on my last day here.

♪ I seem to be, what I'm not, you see

The hand angainst my back brushed my clothed skin with a thumb, circling a vertebra, moving to squeeze my arm as it then fell back to his side. The loss of his touch was dissapointing, but the closeness of his body made up for it.

We took a turn, away from the chance of decaying bodies and toward the fields of crop. I wanted to see it one last time, remember that last wedding–the good times, before I left and the place had become this, before it was reduced to a graveyard of memories.

♪ And I'm wearing my heart like a crown

I found my eyes wandering as we walked, constantly sliding to the man beside me. An aching arose in my heart, the two of us could've been something real sweet. Something true, something strong. If only we had the freedom of chance and opportunity. But as it were, we simply coexist, solely striving to survive in a world swallowed up by nuclear waste and feral brutality. I don't know what I would've done without him, it was a long road for us to grow this close–we didn't get along too well when we first met.

♪ Oh yes, I'm pretending and praying that you're still around

The music tunes out, fading into quiet nothing, like dust particles leaving rays of light–simply seizing to exist. I felt the comparison too familiar for my liking, turns out anything is just a methapor for something else.

After waiting patiently and biding it's time, that strange hum takes up again. Making me wish he'd hold me steady, a d let the drumming of his heart be the only thing I hear. A wish that frequented my mind a lot as of late.

It's interesting how much you learn about yourself and the world when leaving the safety of your vault. The most ironic thing–radiation, and the fact that its the least to be worried about on the surface, the real danger being what dwells in the midst of it. Creatures–beasts, savages and monsters. The rad mutated animals are nothing compared to the barabarians that the human species have become, I really had no idea what stripping someone of their basic needs and a guaranteed future could do to a person before I entered the wasteland. And now, I cant help but marvel at the fact that only a few have resorted to eating eachother and worshipping radiation.

Dog-eat-dog is an old expression that comes to mind. Apparently it was used way before all of this befell us, and I can't help but imagine how bad we could've been back then to create such a phrase in a law-abiding society. But they were the poeple to destroy the world and we to rebuild it, so perhaps its not that strange after all.

Either way, I don't remember it personally. I wasn't alive back then, but it was told to me by someone who was.

The next song started up, the sorrowful tune keeping the deafening white noise at bay, and as I had predicted the list, it was my favorite to be played.

♪ There's a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles away ♪

The tape, surely damaged–played a slower version than I remembered, but it was all the same to me as I let it envelop me in a veil of comfort before finally laying eyes on what we'd come here for–corn. I felt their green stems beneath my fingers as I walked along the field, it was a miracle they were even alive and surviving whatever hardships they'd encountered. Another metaphor.

There came a rustling behind me, my companion doing the same as I had. A scarred hand reaching out to slide his fingers through the crop, keeping a stunned expression on his face, the corners of his lips curling upward.

♪ And they call it Lonesome Town

Where all the broken hearts stay ♪

It must've been a long time for him since feeling something living like this. Much, much longer than it had for me. And I'd just taken it all for granted.

Keeping our pace, we followed the path through the crops until fianlly, the familiarity of a huge wall welcomed me home.

Surrounding me was a vast sky with millions of stars and endlessly stretching mountains, following a path so distant I could not spot the end, all the while the high moon cast silvery blue light upon the world. A projection of the Nebraskan countryside. I used to stare at it for hours, dreaming myself away to a place that no longer existed. 'Did it really look like this? The world- I mean.' I hatched out of me.

♪ You can buy a dream or two

To last you all through the years ♪

'It sure did.' My companion turned to face me, choosing a lesser view over the pretty one before him. He was a mere arms-length away. 'It could be real beautiful.' He said, his eyes roaming my face.

♪ And the only price you pay

Is a heart full of tears ♪

He was a brute, that is true. He was the outcome of living through literal hell, but he'd fared quite well through it all in my opinion. He had his humanity left, which is more than I can say for the majority of the population. Charming and quick-witted, dangerous and cold. He'd seen who we were and what we had become, it's no wonder he acted the way he did. But it was all the same to me, he was strong and handsome, he could even by kind-hearted at times, and I loved him through it all.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

The implication made me blush, and shy away from his eager eyes while I averted my own, leading them back to the contryside. 'I wish I could've seen it.' I tried to focus, studying the sight meticulously, jotting down every detail in my mind. I hadn't had time the last time I was here- not to dwell. Too late now it seemed, the memory resurfacing with a passion as my eyes drifted over the scorching cloud in the sky, burned into the irreplaceable film. My lips drew into a thin line as I swallowed, it was reality, it was life. But it didn't stop my stumache from churning, the stench of wet metal revisiting my nose.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

A scarred hand reached up to brush strands of hair from my face, again, distracting me mercifully. Rough knuckles gently sliding over my cheek and the neighing of my jaw. 'I wish you could too.' He grasped my chin between this thumb and index finger, tilting my face upwards, our gazes meeting eachother.

♪ In a Town of broken dreams

The streets are filled with regret ♪

I leaned into his touch, for it was rare. Rare that he allowed himself simple pleasures such as touching me, even though I would willingly give myself to him at a moments whim. 'I love you.' I whispered. 'Please, please let me.'

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I can learn to forget ♪

The music glitched, the sound warping spookily as the needle scratched and jumped the groves in the needle. Shutting off for a second and then coming back on, restarting the song.

He shook his head, eyes uncharacteristically soft as met mine. Uncharacteristic to anyone but me. 'I can't feel ya', sweetheart.' He reclaimed his hand and took a step back, squeezing it into a fist, frustration shaking it as he cursed himself. The music tuned out, and all I see was the blue light contrasting his red-burnt skin, enforcing its texture as shadows settled in the contours and the pale silver on his high points. All I could hear were his words, the frustration and insufficiencies hinding in his tone, mirroring my own. 'Can't feel your fuckin' softness, cant feel your skin.'

'You can–' I followed his movement, gaining on the distance he'd created between us. '–it might not be ideal, but it's us.' I slid my fingers along his clothed arm, grabbing his coarse hand.

'I'm here, not perfect, and that's what you can feel. Imperfection. . . It's something that belongs to us.' I gave him a faint smile, doing my best to reassure him. To truly make him understand.

'I dont deserve you.' He leaned his forehead against mine, his cowboy hat sliding up his head as he did so.

It was my turn to shake my head now. 'Oh, but if you only knew what you desvered.' My voice broke, eyes watering. 'The world, coop. You've been through so much, you survived the bombs dropping for fucks sake, and the following 200 years after that. What you did during those years was for your own survival, please do not ever feel bad about any of it.' The silence that ensued became too long, too deafening. 'I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so beautiful in your own right.' A tear fell down my cheek.

'I dont feel bad 'bout it sweetheart, thats the problem. I aint any of that, 'm a selfish killer. There's nothin' left of who I were–the good part. . .' his hand slid down my arms, squeezing my biceps to emphasize. '. . .what little good there was, it died a long time ago.' His drawl thick as he spoke, kissing my forehead. 'You can do better, 'n I cant allow those precious years of yours to go to waste on somethin' like me.' He wrapped his arms around me, placing one hand on the back of my head, cradeling it to his chest as he pulled me close, resting his chin on top of my head. The wetness of my cheeks transfering to his shirt. 'Don't cry, sweetheart. Dont cry 'cause of me.' He kissed my forehead again, working his way downward–cheekbone, jaw and finally–my lips.

His hands slid down the outline of my body, shoulders and ribs, then settled on my waist. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss in the same motion.

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I allowed him to kiss me for too long, I allowed him to believe his own words for too long. I pulled free, tearing away to breathe, to lock my eyes on his. 'I dont want who you were, dont you understand?' I cup his face, truly feeling him beneath my fingers, and loving every bump and dent. 'I want who you are now, scars and all. It's not for you to allow me anything. Get that in your head.' My voice had gone harsh, and even though he needed to hear it with all the conviction I muster, I added 'Please. . .' As softly as I could.

♪ I can learn to forget

The last notes of the song died out.

He shook his head as a small, breathless, humorless chuckle erupted from his lips. '. . .I love you too. . .'

♪ Only you

The next song started, the voice vibrating through his bones. A song he'd danced to when it was first released, twirling a life that no longer existed in his arms. He closed his eyes, humming along to the tune as he embraced the memory, arms wrapping tightly around its waist, hugging it lovingly one last time. Then let go.

♪ Can do, make this world seem right

He mouthed the words as he opened his eyes, finding her sweet face looking up at him, his pretty girl. It'd taken him more than he wished to admit, to say those three words. How such meak and fruitless words had cause him so much turmoil, he didn't know.

♪ Only you

Because when he looked at her now–stars projecting in her glimmering eyes, the wetness of tears remaining on her cheeks, anf with the backdrop of a countryside from a bygona era–the prevailing feeling was grief, a mourning over the precious time wasted, time he could've spent in admitant love with her. Holding her, kissing her, loving her. Things he just hadn't allowed himself to concede to, to fall slave under it. To truly feel it from the bottom of his heart–instead, reciding in the pit of it, in some dark, tucked away corner, was the feeling of being lesser and undeserving of her softness, her own kind heart.

♪ Can do, make the darkness bright

'Come.' She said, a faint smile on her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. Away from the corn, away from Nebraska. He followed her willingly, blindly trusting her as she pulled him to wherever. He didn't care, as long as he was with her.

♪ Only you and you alone

The music grew fainter, devolving into a sweet hum, a lullig as the distance of the speakers tossed the sound boucing after them, echoing along the vaults longevous walls while they moved through them.

He turned her hand over as they walked, observing it quietly as he rubbed gentle circles into the plush skin of her hand, admiring what softness he could feel, his distorted hands dulling the sense unbareably.

♪ Can thrill me like you do

But it didnt matter in the end. Imperfection is what she'd said, and it belonged to them. His heart ached, eyes drifting over the small form leading him. The way her hair swayed and body moved, he could feel himself harden. Guilting himself. It was love for a woman, a family, that had once driven him to survive- with that life now long gone, it was that beautiful girl infrontnof him that kept him going.

♪ And fill my heart with only love for you

They passed several doors with accompanying mailboxes, until she slowed and halted her steps so suddenly, she almost collided with his chest. Her form stood frozen, contemplating, just as she'd done when they first entered the vault.

A scorched finger rose up to stroke her cheek. 'You alright, sweetheart?'

♪ Oh, only you

'Mhm. . .' She hummed. 'One moment.' And whipped around to face him, opening his saddlebag to rummage through it.

Unsuspectingly, a blush crept it's way up her cheeks, seemingly caused by the intent gaze he focused so tightly on her.

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

They'd just kissed, professed their love. Yet, it was his closeness, his warm breath against her that made her blush. He'd never want to be anywhere else. His gaze wandered, studying the home they stood infront of. Eyes landing on a mailbox, he read the full name aloud with a loving smile on his lips.

'I like the way it sounds when you say it.' She whispered, a coy smile on her lips. Suddenly- her eyes widened, finding what she'd been looking for, she pulled the object out of the bag, holding it up for him to see. An old pipboy.

"Welcome" it read, and as she turned one of the kogs, the door to the house opened.

♪ For its true

It was exactly the way I remembered it, not a detail out of place–rather an added layer of dust coating every surface of the place.

I ran a finger along the top of my scratched desk, gathering a pillow of dust on top of it. And then I saw it, standing lonely and abandoned–my old radio. Glee filled me as I turned it on, reflecting the song that was already playing outside. Filling my little house with soft waves of sweet tunes, all thr while weighing my heart terribly. Strong nostalgia splitting me in two. 'I used to love dancing.' The words left my lips in a soft murmur. 'Some of my favorite memories are from this kitchen, and now. . .' My voice broke. Inspected the dust and rubbed it between my fingers, observing how it crumbled to the floor. Perhaps another meatphor–how I myself am responsible for my old life crumbling.

♪ You are my destiny

A pair of hands found my waist, a chin coming to rest on my shoulder. He pulled me close, my back thudding against a strong chest. 'Its alright. . .' He breathed against my neck. 'We can make new ones.' Kissing my skin softly as he began moving with the music.

♪ When you hold my hand

My lips curled into a smile as I declined my head against his chest, snaking my hand behind his neck as the other fell on top of his hand, squeezing it with gratefulness. 'Thank you.' I whispered.

♪ I understand the magic that you do

He twirled me around, luring a giggle to erupt. He caught and pulled me close again, this time face to face. His eyes were still so clear, such a stark contrast to his muddled skin.

♪ You're my dream come true

The lyrics seemed to speak for us as my fingers interlocked behind his neck, my thumbs brushing his jaw. While his hands squeezed my sides, exhaling a long breath as we swayed, his eyes intently searching mine. 'I love you, sweetheart.'

♪ My dream come true

Without hesitation, my lips met his. 'Then prove it to me Coop. . .' Coyness tugged on my lips, my hands sliding to the buttons of his vest, '. . . Let me feel it.'

♪ Oh-oh, only you

He grinned against my lips. 'Anyhtin' for my girl.' And his hands wrapped around mine, helping them unbutton his clothes, skiding them off of him. Barechested as he was, he twirled me again. Back to chest, he whispered in my ear, 'Your turn, darlin'.'

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

Gladly, with my hands still guided by his touch, I brushed them along my torso, undoing every button of my shirt as I did so and slid it off my shoulders, my bra coming off next. He cupped them eagerly, a groan leaving his lips as he massaged them. Ingiting a pulse deep in my uterus. The music seemed to tune out off my mind, selective hearing I suppose.

Moaning in response, I could feel him harden as he pressed his hips into my ass. 'Need to feel it.'

'Undress.' Was all he said, removing his own clothes as I did mine.

A short moment later, he had my back pinned against a wall and my legs wrapped around his hips as he held me up with a firm arm around my waist–the other busy lining himself up with my core.

Suddenly- he pushed inside, leaving me as a whimpering mess. 'Good girl, sweetheart. . .' He whispered, doing nothing to ease the aching matter. '. . .sound so pretty for me.'

And without warning, he pulled out, and thrusted back into me again with full force. 'Mmh- Fuck!' I cried out. But his lips were on mine before I could fully register how big he was. Again and again, he trusted right into my core. His tongue fighting for control as it battled my own. My body was aching with a burning want for him, a need so strong I already felt myself closing in on my orgasm. '. . .'M gonna cum, Coop. Slow down, p- please. I stuttered the words, strained breaths dividing the sentence.

'Its ok sweetheart, you're doin' so well.' He reassured me, then took my words as a direct command and pushed us off the wall, walked over to the bed and threw us onto it with a cloud of dust kicking up around us.

Obiding my request, he backed up, hooked my legs over his shoulders and re-entered me with a shuddering moan. The feeling of my core effecting him as badly as his member effected me. With one hand burried in my hair, the other palmed a breast while his lips found my neck, gently taking my skin between his teeth as he pushed so deep inside me I almost screamed, but managed to bite my lip to keep quiet. That's when I felt him shake his head against me. 'Don't go all quiet, let me hear ya', honey.'

And so I did, releasing a string of curses disguised as moans while I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing kisses on his cheek while nuzzling my face against him. But I felt that blinding pressure building again, slower this time, but with an unrelenting force.

His warm breaths against my neck accompanied by the feeling of him inside me and the slick sound we created had my head swimming. It was too much, too fast. But this time, I wanted it. '. . .'M close Coop.' I whimpered.

'Me too, honey. Real fuckin' close.' He panted, voiced muffled as he kissed and sucked at my neck, hands fisting my hair and squeezing my breast. His thrusts began faltering as we both approached climax. 'Fuck, feel so good.' He cursed, groaning the words in my ear as our bodies rocked together, moving in sync. I was aflame, the pulsing in my body acting the accessory to his own members pulsing inside me. My eyes screwed shut, he felt so fucking good it was a simple reflex.

He kissed his way along my throat, pulling on my hair to angle my jaw for him, his lips trailing along it's sharps points, then up my cheek, settling in my lips. 'Look at me.' He breathed.

I wanted to listen to him, but my eyes did not. The pleasure was to much, the wall inside me so near collapsing-

'Look at me, sweetheart.' He ordered again, his voice sharper this time.

Having no other option I forced myself to open them. But it was worth it, listening to Cooper always was.

'Good girl.' He praised, his lips colliding with mine. And that wall burst, his words being the final battering ram. Tidal waves of pleasure rolled through me, roiling like crashing waves inside me. 'Love you, sweetheart.' He moaned.

No words would ever spur me on like those ones did, my uterus was quaking with every act of him. 'Say it again.' I pleaded.

'I love you' he whimpered. . . Whimpered. Strong and dangerous as he was, he whimpered as he came inside me. His rocking thrust strained as he continuing rutting into me, doing his best to lead us through our orgasms.

'Good boy, Coop. Again. . . Please.' I begged.

And he listened, repeating the words "I love you" against my lips, his voice pitching and breaking from the sheer pleasure he was submitted to. And when moving to softly nip at my ear, he whimpered those same three words in my ear over and over again until I felt a wetness on my cheeks–tears, I realised. He was overstimulating himself, crying as he made love to me. 'Fuck-' he shuddered the word, the slickness he'd created only coaxing more sounds out of him. 'Love you real fuckin' hard, darlin'. . .' He cried again. And I could've reached a second orgasm from that alone.

'I love you too Coop, love you so much. Youre so good to me.' I reassured him, my own voice near a cry as he was putting me through the ringer in the process. Finally, he began slowing down, his entire body shuddering from the way my insides clenched around him, milking the juies out of him. He kissed me one final time, then pulled out and collapsed beside me.

I had to take a moment to collect myself before turning to face him, my hand reaching up to brush the wetness from his cheeks.

His eyes met mine, both full of unconditional love. We laid like that for some time, loosing ourselves in eachothers gazes as we regarded one another in silent contemplation. All the while I could feel his seed leaking out of my core. 'You're a good man, Cooper Howard.' I whispered.

'I do what I can to deserve ya', sweetheart. The day I'm anythin' else but good to you-' He began. But I stopped him, not wanting his thoughts to walk down that road.

'You'll never be anything but good, Coop.' I inclined my head, kissing him softly before I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. 'Don't forget it.' My voice a murmur against his strong neck as I slowly drifted off to sleep within the safety of his embrace.

♪ We'll meet again

Hand in hand, our gazes stay on the halls infront of us as we walk back the way we came.

♪ Don't know where, don't know when

My eyes were on the sand as we left, attempting to distract myself by studying the way the the kernels dent beneath my weight. But with a deep breath, I stop and raise my pip-boy clad arm, looking back toward the falling night, toward the empty timecapsule.

♪ But I know We'll meet some sunny day

The words once again faint as they stab through the howling wind. I turn a kog on the pip-boy, and the vault door rolls into motion. The world around us painted in red-pinkish hues as the door's mechanics shut in the echoing vocals completley, the entrance closing with a heavy, reverberating grating sound.

I can feel my heart thudding hard, beating with a sadness and re found happiness. Revisiting my old home had given me melancholy and a new love. 'You coming?' The voice was soft, considering–unwilling to leave my mind wandering through old, lonely thoughts.

'Let's go.' I murmured, my eyes still on the weathered number 33 as the wind whipped at my cheeks.

'Look at me, sweetheart.' my love drawled, gathering my attention, and I redirect my gaze to his. 'We'll come back.'

I nod. 'We will.' A faint smile make its way to my lips as I stood on my toes to place a kiss on his lips.

Then, with his hand in mine, we wandered the wasteland. Searching for better luck–a better life.

#fallout #fallout imagine #fallout smut #fallout fanfic #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard fanfic #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul smut #fallout x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul imagine

[nonomives]

*Materializes*

I wanna show a little something

I usually like to stick close to the canon for stuff and fill in the blanks with my ocs but I only realized until later that theres already on Opal character in hsr. I didnt wanna change her name cuz i liked the themes for the gem lol

More deets below

So anyhow, originally, Opal was meant to be someone that fell off from her high position and is trying to get it back, despite clearly struggling. It ties to how opal, as the gem, doesnt really quite work well with diamond since they're on different sides of the Moh Scale (diamond 10 and opal 5.5-ish). For now she's still on a pretty high ranking but I do plan to have some sort of fall from glory for her. Something to do with how opal (the gem) transitioned from having positive meanings in the past, to now being associated with bad luck.

Personality wise, I wanted to lean into Opal being a queen bee of sorts (something to do with opal being the queen of gems). Elegant and poised, pretty meticulous of even the minute details; she takes care of her image above all else so even the smallest slight against her isnt tolerated. Pretty tempermental too (like her gem). While she can look gentle, appearances can be decieving. One wrong step and Opal can easily snap out of a good mood. She can and will make even the smallest of things into a big deal if you irk her enough, which can be pretty often. She can also be pretty obsessed with perfection, making sure everything goes according to plan and up to par with her position because, while she may flaunt her high standing which is one thats hard to achieve, she knows she is still replacable. She may revel in the hight of success, but there's always the chance of falling.

At some point, when the time comes she fails big time and gets demoted, she kinda goess off her knockers, punching walls crazy. If she just gets demoted shes gonna try anything and everything to get back to where she was, even if she resorts to getting her hands dirty or even begging. If she gets fired then shes throwing any and all dignity, probs will lash out the moment she realizes shes been fired and such. I honestly dont know yet how she'll get to this point but I'll figure it out.

#ive been going throught stuff lately leaving me pretty stumped #i wont bore you guys with details but know that im alright #still going strong lol #anyways enjoy opal #she was fun drawing #might try guessing how obsidian is gonna be like too #might draw them #honkai star rail #honkai star rail oc #hsr oc #hsr oc opal #my art #digital art #nomi arts

[sstormyskyess]

Still Woozy

author's note: i was listening to my still woozy playlist and got the inspo to write some headcanons based on the songs i thought fit the boys! also wanted to write my first piece with alejandro so here it is 👍 [side note: all the songs refer to a woman/fem listener but for the sake of this, the reader is gn!]

cw: nothing, just fluff!

word count: 800+

TF-141 + Alejandro x GN!Reader

Simon “Ghost” Riley [Cooks]

♡ Ghost is a little clueless when it comes to romance and the things that come with it, having been in a toxic home for his younger years. Most of his ideas about romantic relationships come from the very few movies/shows featuring happy couples he’s seen, so his ideas on how to handle a real relationship are scarce and sometimes a bit misconstrued.

♡ But once he finds the one he loves, he’s ready and willing to try his best at figuring things out as he goes. Regardless, he’ll still be fairly lost in the early stages of a relationship.

♡ But don’t get it mistaken—if he’s in a relationship, he’s absolutely head over heels in love, and he’ll do his very best to keep everything working smoothly, even if that means messing up every now and then. He would rather die than hurt you, so be prepared for him to be asking a ton of questions; you may need to reassure him frequently to remind him that just him trying is enough.

John “Soap” MacTavish [Get By]

♡ Soap is a bit of a goofball in a committed romantic relationship, but it’s all for the sake of his partner because he lives to see them happy more than anything else.

♡ He loves to see you happy and practically any time he notices you not feeling your best, he’ll do what he can to bring your spirits up, whether that be taking you out on a nice, fancy date or just staying in and getting you to spare some time for yourself. He has a special place in his mind to remember all of the things that make you smile, like your favorite foods/restaurants and the media you like to engage with.

♡ As referenced in the song, though, he’s made a fool of himself for the sake of cheering you up a few times. It makes you feel bad, but it is quite funny watching him do the silliest things to make you laugh.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick [Get Down]

♡ Gaz is a very dedicated partner and he would do damn near anything for them. He’s made it clear to you on multiple occasions that he can handle pampering you with anything you please, even if you tell him you don’t want to overwork him.

♡ He’s by no means a materialistic person, but he loves to spend his money on you. When he’s on leave, he loves taking you on vacations, big or small. He’ll buy you any little thing you may have your eyes on or have mentioned wanting in the past, because what else will he do with the money he gets from his job? After all, before you came into his life, he was a fairly frugal man, only spending money on what’s really necessary. Now, though, you’re his only real necessity, meaning you get spoiled one way or another.

♡ He also loves it when you get clingy and adores when you’re all over him like your life depends on it. It never gets overbearing for him and he wouldn’t trade the world for your love and attention.

John Price [Wolfcat]

♡ Despite being a rigidly authoritative person outside his home, when Price is alone with his partner in the safety of his own home, he is absolutely whipped. He’s a homebody at heart and he loves filling a domestic role in his intimate relationships.

♡ He’s most certainly a quality time enjoyer and he spends a good amount of time planning little activities for the two of you to engage in while he’s home on leave. He’ll try to mask it as him simply trying to keep himself occupied in place of the strict schedule he’s accustomed to on base, but it’s obvious to anyone that knows him well enough that he’s obsessed with being by your side.

♡ Not to mention, he loves a partner that can put him in his place when needed, since he knows he can be a little headstrong and stubborn. Disagreements turn into arguments, but he knows when to shut up with you because you’re very good at reminding him that he’s not invulnerable to being wrong.

Alejandro Vargas [Habit]

♡ Alejandro is a romantic man even if his work often comes first. But, if he had it his way, he would be spending all his waking moments with his partner. His carefully manufactured distance between his work and family has him feeling insecure about the stability of his relationships, but he always comes back to you, no matter what happens.

♡ He doesn’t fall in love quickly, always wanting to make sure that he’s making a sound decision on who he’s going to lavish with his affections. But he’ll be glued to you once he’s finally comfortable in his choice to settle down with you. He doesn’t do frivolity; everything he does is done with purpose and his love life is no different.

♡ He’ll also put in extra effort for you to have a good support system while he’s away so you never feel lonely, likely with his family. He has plenty of family to go around and he’ll use that to his advantage to keep you comfortable even without him in your presence.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #captain john price #alejandro vargas #colonel alejandro vargas #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #tf 141 x reader #simon riley headcanons #john mactavish headcanons #kyle garrick headcanons #john price headcanons #los vaqueros headcanons #los vaqueros x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #alejandro x reader #simon ghost riley x gn reader #john soap mactavish x gn reader #kyle gaz garrick x gn reader #john price x gn reader #alejandro vargas x gn reader #alejandro mw2

[rendy-a]

Here it is! The winner of the reverse trope poll: Accidentially kidnapping a mafia boss! I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you enjoy it as well!

An Accidental Deal

'Think of the puppies and kittens,' you tell yourself sternly. You stand outside of Ramshackle Shelter and try to psych yourself up for this confrontation. Countless affirmations run through your head. You can do this! The question still remains in your head; when they arrive, will you be able to do it?

The news has been tremendously shocking to all the volunteers: Ramshackle Shelter was all but sold to an entrepreneur to build a branch of a popular ocean-themed cafe. You'd heard of Mostro Lounge but never dared go to such a place. Not because the cafe wasn't nice sounding, no, it was due to the owner. It was an open secret among the residents of your city that the sly restaurateur Azul Ashengrotto was, in fact, mafia boss Don Azul. And now that scummy bastard was this close to shutting down your shelter.

You'd protested at city hall to block the zoning (failure), written to the paper to get the community to object (failure) and tried to raise funds to buy the place yourself (failure). Now, you were down to extreme measures only. So, this was it; you were really going to kidnap someone. You pat the pocket of your jacket where you have a cloth soaked in chemicals to knock someone out. Just one small thing stands in your way, abject fear.

Don Azul was terrifying. You'd expected an aura of danger and power, but when you saw the teal-haired gentleman step from the limo and adjust his hat, you realized you'd grossly underestimated him. He looks like he could bite your arm off... and would probably enjoy it. By contrast, the silver-haired fellow who emerges next in plain shirt sleeves seems far more kidnappable. 'Why can't you be Don Azul?' you think sadly. You watch from your alley hiding spot as the formidable Don and his secretary(?) head inside to inspect the building.

You hurriedly cross the street and slip into the side entrance. You had all the access codes from your years of volunteering, so it was easy for you to navigate the halls quietly and arrive behind the little inspection party. The two men were talking, and the secretary was gesturing in a way that made you feel like they were discussing how to set up the space. After they threw you and the animals out. You grit your teeth and scowl silently at the figure of Don Azul and pat your pocket again; he'd get what was coming to him soon enough.

Then, in a moment that takes your breath away, Don Azul looks up and into a mirror on the wall. For a moment, you think you meet his mis-matched eyes. You feel your heartbeat race as you enter panic mode. Then the Don sneezes, which breaks the illusion. You back your way down the hall and into a storeroom. Maybe you couldn't do this after all. There was no way you could face down that man when you couldn't even stand to meet his gaze.

You need a Plan B. Fast. The adrenaline causes you to shake and you rest your shivering form against a wall to think.  What can you still do in this moment? You tap your pocket with the cloth, all set up to abduct someone. Well, that's a waste. Or was it? Your mind strays from the intimidating Don Azul to his companion, the secretary. Was a mafia secretary worth anything as a hostage? You consider the possibility that he might know a great deal of Don Azul's secrets.  Maybe that was enough to negotiate for them to leave this place alone?

You hear barking from beyond the hall and guess they've opened the door leading to the dog kennels. In this moment you are decided; for the animals, you can do this. You were kidnapping that little secretary of Don Azul’s. The barking intensifies and then fades to a dull drum. You figure they've gone in back and closed the separating door. It's the perfect time for you to get into some sort of position out front for an ambush. You creep into the entrance room and jump back when you nearly bump into Mr. Secretary. He seems as surprised to see you as you are to see him. His light blue eyes flicker to the door where the frightening Don had disappeared.

"Didn't go in with the boss?" you mutter softly. "The boss?" he questions quietly before his eyes return to the door, and he puts it together. "Ah, yes. I'm sensitive to the dirty, ah, I mean, delightful animals." You scowl at him, "They aren't dirty. And they are a lot more charming than you."  The mild man gives a shrug of his eyebrows as though to say, ‘If you say so.’  He seems tired as he sighs heavily and gives you a once over.  You’d guess he’s done this any number of times while by the Don’s side.  He is experienced and appears to have sized you up in one simple glance.  “I take it you were affiliated with the location’s prior business?”  This rubs you the wrong way and you whisper shout back, “Its not ‘the location,’ its Ramshackle Shelter and I’m not so sure it’s a prior business either!  I’ve got some points to talk over with your boss!” 

The man gives you a pitying smirk and another sizing glance.  You appear to have been found wanting as he replies, “Is that so?” in a condescending tone.  You frown hard, both angry and embarrassed at the interaction.  “Anyway, it’s not up to you.  I’m not here to make deals with some nobody secretary,” you tell him mockingly.  His eyes widen for a moment and then you see the visible effort he makes to hold in his laughter.  Ok, this has gone on far enough.  Plus, you need to make sure you leave before the evil Don returns.  You approach him in what you hope is a decent appearance of menace, “You better just come along quietly.”  Finally, he appears to take you seriously as you see his chest expand to take in a large breath before a shout.  Unfortunately for Mr. Secretary, you prove faster and thrust the cloth from your pocket over his mouth before he can sound the alarm. 

It works like a charm and the small man is very easily knocked out.  You run to the storage room and drag out a flat-bed cart used to haul animal kennels back and forth between the entry and back.  On the cart is a large and empty kennel big enough to hold a great dane, so you figure one skinny secretary will fit pretty well too.  Except, passed out mafia secretaries are significantly more difficult to shove in a kennel than a dog.  You heave and shove his limp form until you mentally decide he isn’t so small after all.  Fortunately, you manage to get him marginally concealed in the kennel and out the back before you hear the barking of dogs that signals the Don’s return.  Time to hustle this cart down the back alley and into the waiting warehouse. 

After getting your (not so little) secretary back to the warehouse, you look at him laying limp in the kennel and decide that’s a little too cruel for your taste.  So, again, you take the effort to haul his limp form from the kennel and get him settled in what appears to be a reasonably comfortable position on a chair.  Then you take a seat in another chair to wait for him to regain consciousness.  Plus, you need the time to plan.  Before, all your ideas had stemmed from having Don Azul as your hostage.  Now that you only had his secretary, you were no longer sure how to even let him know that.  Can you just call up the mafia and ask to speak to the Don?  That…didn’t feel like a real thing. 

You were pondering your options when a groan brings your attention to your hostage.  You wait for him to open his eyes, place a tentative hand to his head and groggily ask you what happened.  “I kidnapped you, of course,” you cockily reply.  He holds up his unbound hands in front of him, “Shouldn’t you have at least tied me up then?”  You feel your mouth fall open as you look forlornly at the hands held out for you to see.  “Are you going to keep gaping like that?  I might mistake you for a guppie,” he states in a cold tone.  You slam your hand against a crate and shout, “Better watch that language or I’ll have you singing with the fishes!” 

He gives you a startled look and then starts to laugh, “Singing?  I think you mean sleeping.”  Ok, this could be going better, but you can’t back down now!  “I said singing!  Maybe I want to hear you sing me a little song, beautiful.  I’ve got to get the most out of my little captive princess before I turn her back over to her family,” you finish with a mocking leer.  The barest hint of ‘beautiful?’ can be heard coming from the secretary’s mouth.  You point at him and declare, “You’ve got two options; stay over there and start talking or walk your pretty little self over here and sing me a song.  What’s it going to be, Princess?” 

The man gives you a look from deep beneath his long lashes and says, “Those are quite the options.”  Then he flushes and gives you another one of those sizing up looks.  This time, it takes him several minutes to make up his mind, which you suppose is an improvement.  Finally, he narrows his eyes in challenge and says, “Very well, if that’s how you’d like it,” and stands.  You don’t quite know what to do when he marches over and sits in your lap.  Then he looks at you coyly and whispers, “Did you have any requests?”  This certainly wasn’t in your plan.  You shrug helplessly and finally from the depths of your throat you hear, “Row, Row, Row your Boat?” emerge from your mouth.  The corner of his lips curl up momentarily before he schools his expression, “Of course, as you wish.”  Then he begins singing. 

You feel silly for having requested such a childish song but, to his credit, he gives it a serious effort.  And he sings amazingly.  You listen attentively and when he finishes, you apologize, “I’d clap but I’m afraid that would knock you from my lap.”  He smiles for a moment before replying in a serious tone, “That is an important point to consider.  Perhaps you could join me in a verse instead.”  Then he runs his thumb along your bottom lip with a coy gaze and breathlessly starts another round of Row, Row, Row your Boat.  You feel a bit silly, but it would be rude to refuse after all that, so you timidly join him.  When you finish, he smiles, “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”  You suddenly remember that he is The Enemy and frown sternly.  “Come now,” he chides playfully, “I’m just pointing out that I’m not that difficult to work with, Angelfish.” 

“If you lot were so reasonable to work with, then why is my shelter being closed down!” you shout with tears forming in your eyes.  You hate this feeling, like you are the vulnerable one when he is the one who is kidnapped.  He looks deeply into your wavering eyes and finally sighs, “That place is really important to you, isn’t it?”  You look up at him and answer passionately, “Not just for me but for all the animals.  They have nowhere else to go.  No one to look after them.  If we turn them away, what will happen to them?”  You can’t stand to look at his sympathetic gaze and turn to look at the floor instead, “Your boss’s café could go anywhere.  Why take this from me?  From them?” 

The man, who you decide is far more gentle than you originally thought, appears to genuinely be considering your argument.  For the first time since you met him, you give him one of your friendly smiles, “I know it isn’t your fault.  You aren’t the boss.”  Then you pat him gently on the back.  “Don’t worry about it too much.  I’m going to fix this somehow.”  His breath catches and he whispers, “You just might at that.”  You give him a grateful look, “At least someone has confidence in me.  I feel like I’ve done nothing but mess up all day.”  The gently man is having none of this, “I don’t know what you mean, Angelfish, you seem to be doing quite well from my perspective.”  You laugh and give him a grateful smile, “Well thanks for that.  I think I needed some cheering up.” 

The kind (you’ve upgraded him to kind) man gives you a small caress on the cheek, “Is there anything I can do to help?”  You look deep into his beautiful eyes and remark, “I wouldn’t mind another song.”  He brushes a stray hair from your forehead and begins to sing again. 

And that is when they find you.  An amused chuckle from the door alerts you to his presence and you stop your duet immediately to turn, horrified, to face Don Azul.  You fearfully meet the eyes of the lovely man in your lap and stammer, “It..its Don Azul, he found us.”  Your statement causes the intimidating man to open his mis-matched eyes wide.  Then, he bursts out into an unhinged laugh.  Your fear compounds exponentially when you hear another voice emerge from the unguarded back entrance, “What’s so funny?  Go ahead, I’m in the mood for a joke.”  You turn your head and can’t help but blurt out, “Holy shit, there’s two of them!”

Your companion gives a resigned sigh and stands up, “Jade, Floyd.  Come along.  We’re leaving now.”  You look up at him, entirely overwhelmed.  He meets your eye and then smiles sadly, “In case you aren’t quite finished with me yet.”  Then he reaches into his breast pocket, retrieves a small case and extracts a business card.  He slips it gently into your hand and then walks confidently past the intimidating man (Jade?  Floyd?) and out the door.  The frightening twins give you amused (and terrifying) smiles as they silently turn and follow him out the door.  It is several minutes before you regain your senses enough to turn over the card in your hand.  It reads in flowing script: Azul Ashengrotto, CEO of Mostro Lounge.

-Several months later-

You sit at your desk and page through another document.  In the background, the sound of barking dogs is almost soothing to your ears.  Then, a nervous volunteer practically runs into your office, “Director!  Someone is here.  I…I think he might mean to tear up the place!”  You calmly look up from your desk, “And then serve you tea afterward or burn the place down?”  The volunteer looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.  A moment later, a fearful comprehension crosses their face as they mutter, “Oh my god, there are two of them!”  You nod, so, it’s both. 

 When the pair of twins saunter into your office, you smile welcomingly, “Jade, Floyd.  How nice it is to see you today.”  Floyd comes around the desk to drape an arm over your shoulders, “Hey Shrimpy, bossman sent us to pick you up.”  You nod agreeably, “That’s right.  Its opening night.”  Jade places a palm to his chest, “The newest branch of Mostro Lounge will be most delighted to have the Director’s patronage for this special occasion.”  You nod and direct them to wait out front as you finish things up back here. 

When they leave, the fear struck volunteer questions you, “Who were they?  They look like the mafia!”  You shrug, “As far as I know, they are just employees of Mostro Lounge.  As far as I know.”  They give you a look, “Isn’t that the place that nearly shut us down a few months ago?”  You grab your long purple jacket and give them a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Yeah but we’ve come to an agreement since then.”  The volunteer gives you a considering look and backs a half-step away, as though suddenly wondering if they’d misjudged the familiar Director of Ramshackle Shelter.

You understand, you’d been there before, so you pay them no mind.  Brushing past the volunteer to flick off the light, letting them hide in the darkness of your office.  Then you head out and wave to your waiting escort, “Come on boys.  I’ve got a date with the princess.  Time to make him sing for me.”  Your inside joke never fails to amuse them, and they laugh appreciatively. Your relationship was a complicated thing.  You weren’t sure who was supposed to be the hero or the villain in the whole story but, you supposed, you didn’t really care.  Floyd held the door of the long black limo for you, and you stepped inside.  You could ponder the morality of the whole thing later; you had your Princess waiting for you tonight.  And, if you were lucky, you’d have Azul sing your song for you again.  Ah, life was but a dream.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #reverse tropes

[myhaikyuuacademia]

Totally fake | Ant x Reader (Heartbreak High)

Fake dating, fem!reader A/N: it’s been a while since I watched s1 so forgive me if the timeline is a little wonky. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You had no idea how you got yourself in this… situation. In this mess, honestly. Thanks to Amerie, the whole school life had imploded. Thanks a lot, Map Bitch. Now here you were, standing next to her trying to get a ticket for the party as Ant told her about how his mom reacted to the whole Darren wristy thing. Your face twinged up in sympathy. Somehow Quinni and Darren had adopted Amerie into your friendgroup after the whole thing, so here you were, supporting your new friend. Well, it was more like she dragged you along. Moral support or something. Ant ended up telling Ams to go ask Spider and she trudged away disappointed, but you stayed, hesitating. “Um, I’m sorry about your mom.” You offered. What a stupid thing to say, you cursed yourself. Boys made you nervous. “Yeah, it really sucks. I love Jesus and all but going to church 3 more times a week is reaaaaally boring.” He groaned. You began walking to your next class together. “Um.” You started talking before you could think. You were a fixer, it was a whole thing. A pathological need to fix things, which is why you couldn’t really be against Quinni and Darren taking Amerie in, you wanted to help fix this. But sometimes in your need to fix things you went a little overboard. You realized that that was what you were doing after you had already started talking, and now you didn’t know what to say. But being quiet now was also embarrassing. “What’s up?” Ant stopped and leaned against the doorway of your classroom. Looking at you expectantly. Fuck it. “Maybe I could help.” You looked at him. “With your mom I mean.” He looked confused, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what you were proposing. “How?” Taking a deep breath in, you began rambling the plan that had formed in your head in the span of maybe 10 seconds. Which in hindsight, perhaps was a sign that this was a really dumb idea. “Well. I’m assuming your moms problem is that Darren is not a girl. Because you’re Christian and all. Which, I don’t know, not very Christian, ya know? Loving your neighbour and all. But anyway. If her problem is in fact that, I am a very good liar, I know enough about like the bible and stuff, and I happen to be a girl…” You trail off. He looked as confused as he did before you started talking, which, honestly, you figured this would not be enough to get him to understand. It was just too embarrassing to finish. You felt cold all of a sudden. Nervous. Rubbing your arms for warmth, or perhaps in an attempt to rub the nervousness away. “I’m saying I could be your fake girlfriend until she calms down.” You finally huffed out. “Ohhhhhhh” You swore you could almost see the lightbulb that went off above his head. “Gotcha.” He nodded contemplatively. “You’re really smart, y/n, I’m impressed.” Still nodding. You were a little surprised he knew your name. People tended to not know it because you mostly kept to yourself outside of your friendship with Darren and Quinni. And you hadn’t talked to Ant before, like literally ever. Yeah you shared a lot of classes, but he didn’t really seem to pay attention and so far you had never been paired with him for any group work. “Let’s do it.” He grinned, excitedly. “Wait what?” Your eyes widened in surprise. “For real?” You didn’t know what you expected his answer to be, but for some reason you hadn’t prepared yourself for a yes.

“Yeah! I’m in! I only see positives honestly. I get to pretend to date the coolest girl I know and get my mom off my back.” Wait, what did he say? The coolest girl he knows? Huh? You blinked in confusion as he left you standing in front of the open door to go to his seat. Autopilot activated you went to your seat, in between Darren and Quinni. Completely zoned out your eyes trained on Ant who was sitting a couple rows ahead and to your right. “Earth to y/n, repeat Earth to y/n.” A hand was waving in front of your face and you blinked as you turned to Darren. “huh?”. “What’s wrong with you today, space girl?” They asked. “What?” Your brain hadn’t completely caught up yet. “Why were you talking to Ant?” Quinni asked excitedly. Why was she excited? “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk to him before.” She mused. Uh. What were you supposed to tell them? Both of them looked at you expectantly. Completely frozen, your brain refused to cooperate. “I.. uh. Amerie. Party. Slapband. You know?” The words were more stuttered out than said, and they did in fact not know what you meant.  Your saviour came in the form of a very out-of-breath Amerie, who was almost late to class, but just almost. She fell into her seat next to Quinni and immediately started babbling about whatever it was she was up to after she had left you and Ant, taking all attention off of you. And if they saw you staring at Ant the whole class, they didn’t say anything. Yet.

By the end of the school day you had bounced back, the whole Ant thing still nagging at a corner of your brain but not at the front anymore. Until you were walking out the school gate with Darren, Quinni and Amerie, that is. “Hey, y/n, Wait up!.” This caught the attention of your more than nosy friends. You stopped and turned around to see Ant jogging up with a stupidly cute grin on his face. “Um, hi, what’s up?” Your face felt unusually flushed. Your friends looked at you like they were vultures and you, and the ensuing gossip that would come from this, their prey. You didn’t need to look at them to know that. “Here.” He held out a slapband. “You don’t have one yet, do you?” “No, I don’t, actually.” You were about to tell him that you were not interested. Partys? Not your thing. But the way he looked at you, and the fact that he got you one and went out of his way to give it to you, rendered you incapable of rejecting it. He was waiting for you to take it, or do something to accept it, so you lifted your arm and held it out in front of him. He slapped it on your arm and you mumbled out a thank you. “No worries, babe.” He leaned in and gave you quick peck on the cheek before he proceeded to wink at you and then leave with a wave and a “See you later!”. You almost dropped to your knees. What the hell just happened. Wide-eyed you looked after him, hand lifting to touch the cheek he had just kissed, legs still awfully wobbly. “BABE?!?!?!” A chorus of awestruck half-yells ripped you out of your moment, seconds before your friends came into view in front of you and crowded you. This was… too much. You gave up trying to keep your legs steady and dropped down to the ground, sitting on your knees, before shifting to sit criss-cross applesauce. “Whoa, shit girl, you okay?” Amerie dropped down next to you. Not trusting your voice you simply nodded yes. “Oh my god, you and Anthony Vaughn?” Darren crouched down next, almost scandalized by what they had just witnessed. “Oh, are we sitting now?” Quinni, bless her, sat down next to you. “Yeah…” You just said, to no one in particular, nodding. “Oh my god, you’re like, a total goner.” Amerie laughed. “I am?” You turned to look at her with puppy-dog eyes. Before this day started, you had never talked to Anthony Vaughn before, and now, before it ended, you were apparently head over heels for him. You blamed it on hormones, or some kind of chemical inbalance in your brain. Because… there was no way, right?

This would make the fake-dating significantly harder, you concluded, after you had time to mull it over. You and your friends had continued sitting on the ground for a good 10 minutes, before you felt stable enough to attempt standing and walking again. Of course they all had a million questions, yelling simultaneously, trying to understand what they had just witnessed. You had no idea what to tell them. “I will tell you once I know.” You end up saying, which leads to more questions. “Seriously guys, not right now.” You couldn’t tell them anything before you lined up stories with Ant. Well, technically you could tell them it was all fake, but they were all huge blabbermouths, and you wanted to check in with Ant first, before doing anything. You hadn’t expected him to just… go and do that. Like, at least you had expected talking to him once, or maybe twice, about what being in a fake relationship entailed, you know, lining up stories, where, what, who, when…. What kind of person his mother was, how far to go, how much to do to make it believable. But now everything had kind of blown up and it had to wait. You didn’t even have his number, you realized, after you were finally alone. The gang had tried to peer-pressure you into making this a whole goss-sesh at the diner, but you managed to worm your way out of it. Now they would probably just do it anyway, but without you to defend yourself. Not that there was anything you could say right now. Frustrated you blew a piece of hair out of your face. This was gonna be one hell of a week.

#x reader #fanfic #oneshot #fanfiction #imagine #hbh #heartbreak high #anthony vaughn #ant vaughn #hbh ant #heartbreak high ant #heartbreak high anthony vaughn #ant x reader #anthony vaughn x reader #anthony vaughn imagine #hbh ant x reader #heartbreak high x reader #heartbreak high imagine #heartbreak high fanfic #mhaf-writes

[howlsnteeth]

If we're on the topic of you being a whole icon, while I didnt discover myself as the last anon did, nor do I have as many words to say, your art most certainly allowed me to figure my draconic nature out in a more succinct and satisfying way. I am most certainly glad that I found you when I did, and your art has always made me feel things- for their intentions, and for what they mean to me. For this, I thank you, and look forward to seeing your future endeavors.

There is also one piece of yours that I still think about to this day- the bird skull with the tombstone rhyme circled around it- 'Remember me as you pass by, as you are now, so once was I, as I am now, so you shall be, prepare for death and follow me', or something like that. While I am more than respectful enough not to use your art as a tattoo, that saying in and of itself has become inspiration for a tattoo I plan to create and get- so for that, I thank you.

thank you so much also omg.......... :'D

and yes that piece! man it's old i should redo it..........

#barks #keep

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

TMAGP 13 Thoughts: Phone Bug

A big episodes for small reasons. Not much world-shaking happened but just enough was said about just the right things. A lot to get into in this one around the incident. We're starting to have the curtain pulled back. Just a crack right now, but that's just more reason to be cracked.

Spoilers for episode 13, and all of TMA, below the cut.

Not a huge amount to touch on in the date portion of the episode other than a couple of sentences. Yeah, Sam is a gifted burn out that's sad about not getting experimented on. Same old same old. But Celia has a baby. Jack being Celia's kid I wasn't expecting mostly because of how that figures into her timeline. She's very heavily implied to be TMA's Celia but based on what she said if she is then she's been in TMP's universe for at least 4 years. A "couple of wild years" and Jack's "just over a year old". Plus 9 months and it's a lot longer than it might've appeared. None of that stuff tripped Freddy's possible lie detector either that I heard.

If you work under the assumption that the voices are who most people think, and they started roughly when they arrived, then that's a fairly major time discrepancy. The voices are about a year old but Celia has been around for 4.

However, it doesn't strictly rule that out either. Firstly, we know that moving between universes isn't actually one-to-one time-wise. Anya Villette went backwards 2 weeks when she crossed over. So them arriving at different times could support the idea that she's TMA's Celia further. Her general explanation of events could also be explained by this too. If she's not there willingly, or is there willingly but it didn't quite go to plan, a couple of wild years while you get your footing in a world you don't belong to isn't far fetched. If she was there looking for the voices then her showing up so relatively late could be explained by her baby too. So it's certainly not a dead and buried theory yet.

While Jack isn't Jack Barnabas he and the voices are about the same age. If people want to go rabid over that.

Gwen and Lena's little chat has a similar amount to really dig into. It's nice to see Gwen dealing with it all, and it's annoying we still don't know who died, but Lena does have a lot to say in a few words.

The world is full of opposing forces, some benevolent, most not. In order for the wheels to keep on turning, all these forces need to be monitored and balanced. That is where we come in.

This probably the most information we've had on the OIAR to this point from the show itself. I think most of this was safely assumed before this point. They've been doing a lot of monitoring, categorisation, and the only responses we have seen have been tamping major spikes down. A world of opposing forces is also a given. We are being led to believe that these are analogous to the 14+1 but there being benevolent ones if that's true is a big mix up. If you take the above timeline idea a step further and say the 14+1 arrived much earlier (or it doesn't matter because of how they're temporally weird) the benevolent ones could be native to TMP. They could be all TMP had.

Her assertion that the OIAR is a balance on these forces is interesting. Beyond the obvious stuff it also leans into an idea I've been throwing about regarding Starkwall. In the perception of Starwall might not really be the whole picture. The San Pedro Square massacre could've been an easy scapegoat to pin on them for the OIAR to split with them. A split caused by a disagreement in ethics. Starkwall thus far hasn't been shown to have an incredible disregard for human life based on Ep 7. The OIAR definitely has been. It could just be a PR move because the massacre was too big to contain but that feels like the least interesting way to handle this. A faction that's all in on monster hit men splitting with a faction who is against it has more room for interesting drama and worldbuilding IMO.

Balance was also a very large aspect of TMA in the end. The OIAR working towards that balance isn't as noble a goal as it might sound. Or it at least has the potential to be an incredibly misguided goal.

Okay, with all that mostly out of the way onto the incident itself. I enjoy this one a fair bit. Very different to what's come before it but with another recurring theme. We're starting to see a couple of patterns emerge now although it's too early to start naming things. I don't think there is a lot to really get into but this one was written by Alex, had a new VA, and was a recurring idea. Which does all point to this being quite important as these things go. All the episodes will likely tie up quite nicely in the end but this one seems quite relevant currently. In any case this was a fun one and I'm kinda curious how some of the elements within it will tie together. Mainly the gambling and insects.

Also, super weird they went with Zorrotrade for this. Because that's a real thing. Or was a real thing? It might be dead now, but still.

Post-incident chat has nothing I really want to comment on. More Alice and Sam is always good, even if Alice is trying really hard to not seem very upset.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet

DPHW Theory: 4622 doesn't seem particularly noteworthy. It's interesting from a thematic angle how this differs from Rolling With It. Both obviously very linked to gambling but this one lacks the compulsion elements. Which is a good indicator that H is linked to that sort of thing. Not that I need to convince myself of that further.

CAT# Theory: 3. Insert screams et cetera, et cetera. More seriously there still isn't a convincing pattern to this. Although I might be swinging back to my original tria prima and/or triple deity interpretation.

R# Theory: B is where I was thinking it'd end up while listening. So that's nice. Not much to add to this. Much like with DPHW the more information that lines up with the theory the less there is to talk about it because I've already done the hard bit.

Header talk: Gambling (Application) -/- Murder. Other than Application being a pretty weird Subsection I'm not sure there is much to dig into here. Although it does likely confirm he's dead. Which does make it a little strange that his statement wasn't read by one of the Freddy lot.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp theory #tmagp speculation #klaus = kl4-u5

[animeyanderelover]

Hey! Im glad i managed to wake up early in the end! Here are my two requests and thank you so much for your great writing!

1. Yanderes of your choice (the ones who wear masks/cover their faces or are just insecure about their appearances in general) with a darling who always compliments their face, saying they look amazing and that they love all of them/the first time they see the yans face their reaction is to get all :OOOO and compliment it

2. yanderes of your choice with a minor deity reader, who doesn't have the same perception of boundaries as a normal person does plus is just happy they have a follower at least.....?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, manipulation

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz

Minor Deity s/o

Ash Landers

▫️​You may not be known very well as other deities are but with Ash you pretty much already have the most devoted and loyal follower one could ask for. Yet the fact that you were forgotten seems to affect him much more than it has affected you ever as he is in utter grief and sorrow when he finds out about it. Deities are supposed to be worshipped and treated with reverence yet humans truly seem to have forgotten how to pay respect and he is determined to see it through that your name will be called in prayers once again. After he has purified London, that is. With his darling being a literal deity though, Ash feels immense pressure to see it through that everything will be perfect for you. He lets churches and temples be build in your name and starts searching for humans he thinks would be worthy enough of worshipping you as he is basically planning to collect a cult for you. Your obvious clinginess is constantly overwhelming him though as he doesn't see himself as worthy for being touched by a deity like this, especially since he hasn't done anything to deserve it.

Juvia Lockser

💧​Juvia is constantly swooning over pretty much everything you do as her obsessive tendencies only increase as she figures out that you are an actual deity. You are literally perfect in her eyes. She spends days and weeks crafting a small shrine for you where she always leaves flowers, pastries or anything else for you as a sign of her adoration and love. She has a rather strange relationship with the idea of collecting other followers for you though. On the one hand she wants people to notice you because you are the most perfect and beautiful being as the mere thought that no one has ever been a follower of yours angers her greatly. On the other hand she also doesn't want to lose all the attention and affection she gets solely because she is the only one who calls herself a follower of yours now. You are very clingy with little to no perception of boundaries but since Juvia is exactly the same, this is just utterly perfect for her. The idea of you giving such attention to other people if they would start believing in you is a big cause of her jealousy as she would like to remain as someone special to you even if you should collect more followers.

Yato

🪙​Both of you share very similar struggles yet Yato shows much more concern for you as a deity will disappear if no human remembers them so he is very desperate to get you more followers. He starts with Hiyori as he asks her to not forget you for her entire life and to remember you and she really goes all out of her way to build you a small shrine similar to the one she has crafted for Yato. Otherwise Yato literally goes around with Yukine to fulfill his jobs whilst trying to advertise for you. Whilst you don't show any panic or fear due to having so only Hiyori as a human who believes in you as of now, he still feels like he has to do everything he can to cheer you up to keep you happy. He has very good intentions but at times he can go a bit too far by literally wracking some damage to induce humans with the belief that it was the work of you just to get their attention on you. Hiyori and you are ususally quick to scold him for it as you don't want to be remembered as a deity who harms other people. Yato happily indulges in your clinginess though because he can be quite touchy himself but he does get jealous quickly when you show similar amounts of affection to Yukine and Hiyori.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ash #yandere ash landers #yandere fairy tail #yandere juvia #yandere juvia lockser #yandere noragami #yandere yato

[totallynuwonhere]

“Lazy Weekend”

-I’ve been deprived of sleepy soft David. So I figured I’d take matters into my own grubby hands. Also I needed a warm-up after being off writing for awhile

ALSO TO THOSE WHO DROPPED REQUESTS LIKE WAAAY BACK, I’LL GET TO THOSE, I PROMISE, school has just been eating me alive, but rest assured, I’ll get em done…eventually

Anyway, I hope you like it. And if it’s shit, then it probably is cuz it’s been awhile.

————————————

It was an exhausting week to be Alpha, with the Pack getting booked more-and-more, along with having to navigate the whole Summit issues. This was the weekend he’d decided they’ll have a full day of relaxation. No work, no yard duty, and no unprompted calls from a certain Beta.

He had it all planned on his head, and by planned, he meant no advance planning, ‘he’d be going with the flow’. A thing he never does outside their bedroom endeavors, but he figured, why not branch out, give himself permission so let loose. But not after getting more shut eye. He let out a yawn, rolling over to wrap his arm around his mate.

“Angel?, what are you doing up..?” He asked.

“Oh! Morning Davey, I was gonna go for a run—“ They paused, looking to see their fiancé strong arm wrap around their waist.

“Erm…David?”

“Don’t go. Stay in bed with me.” He mumbled, eyes still barely open.

His mate snickered, slipping their fingers into his hair, earning them a relaxed hum from the shifter.

“My my, how the tables have turned.” They sneered.

“Shut up..you know you want to, lay back down and cuddle with me.” He said in an irritated tone he failed to maintain. Letting out a relaxed sigh as he felt his angel’s arm around him.

“What’s got you in a cuddly mood, hm?” They asked, nuzzling to his side, fingers returning to his hair.

“Mm…You’re comfy, that’s why.” He replied, his eyes closed, but a very noticeable smirk on his lips, catching his mate’s attention, and that they saw as an advantage to milk out just a little bit more David sappiness.

“Is that so? Well if it’s comfortable you’re seeking, couldn’t you just, bundle up under the covers so I could still go out for my run?”

David scoffed, opening his eyes to meet their sly smirk. “Seriously?”

They shrugged, never losing that shit eating grin he knew all too well.

“Fine. I want you to stay because, it’s not same without your cuddles, and I wanted to have a lazy weekend, and I wanted to do that by having my arms wrapped around you, while getting a few more hours of shuteye.” He replied, nuzzling into the crook of their neck, taking in there scent.

“Was that enough of a reason to make you stay?” He asked, his warm breath on his mate’s skin causing the sensation he had hope for as they laid on top him.

They smirked, looking down at his half lidded gaze, replying.

“How’s about you throw in a kiss, then I’ll consider.”

He laughed, his voice still hoarse from barely being awake.

“You’re such a fucking menace. Lean down here, asshole”

They pressed their lips against his, David’s arms wrapping around their waist as he kissed them, feeling the smirked still linger on their lips. They pulled away, resting their forehead against his, “Snot.” He mumbled, eyes still tired but his lips forming a soft smile before pressing another quick kiss onto the tip of their nose.

“Now can we go back to sleep?” He asked, immediately yawning as he did, earning a chuckle from his mate.

“Yeah, you win, let’s go back to sleep.”

They laid back next to him, nuzzling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around them.

“Thank you, Angel. I love you..”

He whispered, closing his eyes and letting sleep take over.

#redacted fanfic #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted david #david shaw #redacted angel #fanfic #fluff #nuwon writes fanfic

[writingquestionsanswered]

Trouble with Act III and Villain Motivation

feelingthedisaster asked: I have some issues with my current WIP. The basics are: a guy wants to be a "soldier" (not exactly, but I won't get into worldbuilding), but because he's an outcast he's blamed for the theft of an object that goes missing. He learns about a witch who can help him find the object and they go on a mission to find it, but he learns it was the witch who stole it because she was bored and accepted the job to hang out with people. Here are my concerns:

[Ask edited for length]

Issue #1 - I feel the witch's motivation is not strong enough. There is backstory explaining her loneliness and wanting to have friends, but stealing an object to go on a bogus mission and hang out with someone doesn't feel realistic.

You could definitely go a little bit further to bolster this motivation. Since you mention using Save the Cat!, and since the witch sounds like she might be a redeemable villain, have you considered. her "shard of glass" (psychological wound) that's driving her? What happened in her past that makes her feel like she isn't worthy of making friends in the usual way? Fleshing that out and building upon it creates a little more logic to why she would go so far out of her way just to get some companionship.

Issue #2 - My plot sucks. Act I - the solider gets kicked out, Act II - he and the witch go on the bogus mission and he finds out she's the true thief, Act III - I have no idea. It feels shitty, boring, and I wouldn't want to read this. Honestly, I just want to write my characters and made up plot so it would make sense, but I don't like the plot.

Well, looking at Save the Cat!, in Act III you need to solve the problems created in Act II. In other words, we need to look back at your story's midpoint... what was the false victory or false defeat? How did things get progressively worse or progressively better for the hero after that? In what way was the hero pushed to rock bottom? Based on what you've laid out for me, I feel like a good route to go (if you haven't already) is for there to be a false victory toward the end of Act II, perhaps where the witch--sensing that the hero is losing faith in her ability to help him find the object--tells him they're really close. They've almost got it. Then, as the "bad guys close in" moment, maybe (because they've grown close), she admits that she was the one who stole the object in the first place and promises to take him to it. But... ALL IS LOST! They get to where she'd hidden the object and it's gone! Now neither one of them have the object! At the end of Act II is the hero's "dark night of the soul" where he has to contemplate everything that's happened so far... getting kicked out, finding the witch and trusting her to lead him to the object, growing close to the witch, being betrayed by the witch (she's the true thief). And maybe he even really hurts her feelings by ditching her because he's so mad. This guy has hit rock bottom...

So, your "Break into III" is the moment where your character realizes what he must do to fix everything... First, realizing he can sympathize with the witch and forgive her, he must find her and accept her apology and apologize to her, too. Next, he figures out what happened to the object and how they can get it back. And finally, he realizes how he can get accepted back into whatever he was kicked out of without causing problems for the witch. So, Act III will be him realizing all of this, finding the witch, convincing her to listen to his apology and accepting her apology, telling her what he figured out about who stole the object from her--and how they can get it back, strategizing that plan, executing that plan, facing off against whoever took the object from the witch and getting it back once and for all, then returning the object to its rightful owners and proving that he didn't steal the object. (And, maybe they can blame whoever stole it from the witch to keep the witch from getting into trouble?) And then maybe the hero gets reinstated, or maybe he chooses to go off with the witch on more adventures. It's up to you. And it doesn't have to be any of this exactly, but hopefully it gives you some ideas for what else you can do.

I want to change the entire plot but I don't know how. On top of everything else, my chapters are short.

Well, hopefully now that I've shown you how much more your second and third acts can be, you won't need to change your plot. I think you already have everything here for a great story. You just needed to flesh things out a little bit more. Hopefully this helps you get there.

As far as your short chapters, I just answered another ask about that. Chapters are either a single scene or a group of 2-3 related scenes. So, when your chapters are too short, it's usually because your scenes aren't accomplishing everything they need to. This post goes into detail about that, so hopefully that will help!

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

#wqaadvice

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in: April 24, 2024 🎀

Wednesday started out so rough, I had a really bad stress breakdown from the pressure I was putting on myself for the exam I have today (Thursday), but luckily my dad was able to calm me down over the phone and my boyfriend motivated me and encouraged me. I don't feel as stressed out anymore, I know that I know the material and I'll do great! (it's a chemistry exam)

🩷 What I Accomplished:

studied chemistry for a good bit

completed 3 chemistry homework assignments

scheduled a make-up quiz for my psyc class

did the Total Body Pilates video from Blogilates

did the 11 minute Wake Up Yoga from Yoga with Adriene

did my morning skincare and journaling

actually, just did my entire morning routine and felt great about it

shipped off shorts I sold on depop

went to chemistry lecture to review for the exam

went to my virtual appointment with a registered dietitian and set some goals for the next 2 weeks

decided to join a step challenge with my health insurance company to win points (they have some cool things in their points shop, plus extra steps during the day is good for my health!)

washed my laundry

made a brain dump list for the remainder of the week

💞 Good Things That Happened:

I really like the dietitian I met with and have another appointment with her in 2 weeks

I really enjoyed using my new 40oz Simple Modern insulated tumbler cup

didn't let my stress breakdown make me go home, very proud of myself for sticking to my plans

went to sleep early

sold another item on depop!

I felt very reassured that I know the content that is going to be on my upcoming exam

the guy who makes sushi at my campus food court made sushi for me and held it until I went to get it so no one would buy it, i could've cried it was so nice of him

I drank coffee on campus and it didn't hurt my stomach for once!

💔 What Could've Gone Better:

need to put less pressure on myself

had some issues with food after my dietitian appointment (sometimes thinking too much about food can be triggering for me, tbh, but my goals are nutrient based which is helpful!!)

started crying before I went to bed because I was feeling oddly emotional (I think I'm starting my period soon)

had to turn down a work shift because I had too much school stuff and that appointment (I need the money so bad tho)

did not drink near enough water

need to be more patient and gentle with myself

also need to really figure out what's going on with my priorities, I keep struggling to do the things I say I'm going to do which is difficult for me to deal with sometimes

need to remember progress over perfection, 50% is always better then doing 0% of something

💗 Stuff For Thursday

clean my room

listen to a podcast episode

maybe do some more laundry

make a grocery list

clean my bathroom

therapy today over video call

reschedule a morning appointment

chemistry exam tonight

try to ship off the shirt I sold on depop

do some more planning and organizing for my life

that's all for now! Thursdays gonna be good. My exam is gonna go great! I have confidence in myself, and my knowledge and I know I've got this!

til next time lovelies 🩷

💕 Song of The Day: Baddie by IVE

Gotta remind myself of this sometimes <3

#pink pilates girl #pink pilates princess #self development #wonyoungism #it girl #mental health #self care #physical health #that girl #self love #that girl energy #it girl energy #pink academia #pink aesthetic #pink blog #college student #student life #college studyblr #studyblr community #studyblr #college studyspo #uniblr #uni student #university student #uni student aesthetic #university life #college life #student #studyspo #study community

[leidensygdom]

Ok, I'm gonna start a post idea I had been pondering. If you're either mentally or physically disabled and you have opinions about representation, this is the thread for you!

So, I've been seeing more people trying to tackle the topic of autism in their stories, but I've felt some of it tries to woobify a bit what is to live with autism, or just focus on the more socially acceptable quirks of it. And as someone with autism/ADHD (was suspected of it for most of my life, got it finally diagnosed by my therapist (who specializes in autism and ADHD) last year), sometimes I'd like for people to acknowledge the more unsavoury parts of it, the weird quirks, etc.

So, this post is going to be about that- If you wanna help people understand how your disability/neurodivergency affects your life, feel free to add to it! Just mention what do you have (no need for a full list, just what you consider relevant to the post) and some experiences, quirks, anecdotes or such that you think that are not often seen in stories or media, and that you consider an important part of it. They don't need to be huge things! I encourage people to share just whatever they feel comfortable. My list is gonna be a mix of stuff, but yours can be very different. Let me start!

Clothes and how they feel was surprisingly one of the most disruptive parts of my autism. As a kid, if I was forced to wear something that caused me some bad texture/sensitivity issues, it would significantly affect my behaviour and performance. It took me many years to be allowed to use mostly sportswear. (And it turns out being a "girl" (not anymore) wearing only sportswear tends to cause a whole lot of bullying)

This happens even nowadays. I've found out that non-heeled boots are more comfortable to me than sport shoes, because feeling something against the back of my foot makes me feel overwhelmed. I tend to wear yoga pants under actual pants, because they keep the actual pants' seams from causing sensory issues. There's almost a sort of ritual on how do I need to combine clothes to be able to function "normally", mostly consisting on reducing how much they annoy me.

On that topic, hygiene is actually a huge thing too. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to shower daily. Days I didn't shower, no matter how much I tried to keep my hygiene in other days, were "bad days" to me. I would literally plan hanging out with friends or eating out around the days I was allowed to shower. I could physically feel the difference between the day I showered and the day I didn't (even if I washed my face, armpits, used the bidet, etc).

This is true even nowadays. I can thankfully now shower daily, which isn't recommended by a lot of experts (specially because it can damage your hair and skin), but it's more worth to me than having days where I feel like I shouldn't be seen in public.

Being overwhelmed sucks! Meltdowns are mostly associated with kids, mostly because adults either learn to mask them, or do everything they can to AVOID having that meltdown. I've mostly figured out routines and such. There's this one place we go eat out every other Tuesday- And in the hours we go in, there's a sort of silent corner that is always free. This week's schedule was a mess, so we went yesterday to that same place, and the silent corner was filled with a very loud group. I got extremely overwhelmed. But enough masking drilled to me means I just sat there unable to talk for maybe 30 minutes.

Autistic adults still do have autism and experience often the full spread of traits, they've just found ways to mask, or avoid being in situations where they do need to do that. I've adapted my life and routine to that. But sometimes I land on situations out of my comfort zone that will make me feel just like when I was a kid. I want to freelance online because I'm fully aware I can't perform properly in a public facing job.

Group projects sucked so much. I know they suck for most people, but most times it was easier for me to do the entirety of the project by myself and add the others' names to it than dealing with chasing people for their parts. My college had a 6-months-long massive group project in the last year, with a 7 people group, which obviously I couldn't do alone. The whole experience was so harmful in so many ways I've had several full therapy sessions talking about it :'')

One of the reasons it's because mental flexibility is HARD with autism. If i set a schedule, I expect that schedule to be followed. If people agree to do a part, I expect that part to be delivered (unless there's a proper reason) on due time. People hate this a lot usually! It will tear group projects apart!

Stimming can be harmless, or it can be very annoying to some. I tend to shake legs and play with something in my hands. I could easy this off drawing in classes- My high school found out that I was paying more attention when I was allowed to draw in classes, and my academic performance was pretty much perfect, so they gave me permission to do that.

However, I had a teacher in middle school that did forbid me from drawing. I stimmed during a class with pens- She got so mad she sent me home with a note to my parents they had to sign. Fun!

Not exactly an anecdote, but I am ace. I hate the discourse about "making an autistic person be aro or ace is infantilizing autism". Aro/ace people can have autism. That's just how it is. I've been infantilized a lot for being ace- Which only got worse because I am autistic, and people perceived some of my special interests as child-ish. The combo didn't make things easy.

On that topic, people will often be very patronizing of your opinions or takes for being autistic. I've had people debate my sexuality (or lack of thereof), my gender identity and presentation, my hobbies, my preferences for everything, down to "what do you want to eat tonight?". This isn't too different to shitty takes about how "autistic people are more prone to being affected by the trans activistsTM", because people assume autistic people can't choose on their own. Trust me: We can.

Anyhow, I'd love if this post could be a good compilation of these sort of anecdotes! I think it could help people who wanna learn more about what is it to live with specific disabilities (and how to better portray them in media)

#nd #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #disability #disabled #autism #adhd #neurodivergencies #long post

[thecorpuscorpse]

#6- An Anonymous Source

CW: Knife use and blood, some 'fighting', mild kidnapping

It had been two months since the sealed letters began showing up on Villains bedroom window at night when they weren't there. Each one with a different wax embellishment on the front, made of paper worn with time, and never signed. The swirling perfection of the calligraphy was unlike anything Villain had seen before, just like the words they formed. Five letters were stacked on the desk, and the sixth Villain held by the lamplight, eyes scanning over words they always wished to hear. In brief moments, they almost believed them.

The life they lived was not as tender as the words directed at them. There was no beauty in bloodshed- not anymore, at least. Yet, whoever seemed to be hiding in their blind spot thought otherwise. With how long they ran Headquarters, it was refreshing to have a little spice in the routine of wondering who thought so highly of someone as lowly as them.

After sending their squads out for recon, Villain remained tucked away in their office at headquarters to keep an eye on cameras when one detected movement in the server room. Villain knew each employee schedule inside and out- after all, they arranged each one. Within the orchestrated machine-like facility Villain spent so many years building up, the blaring alarm was akin to grinding gears.

Hero.

Every so often, Hero would figure out a new password Villain set, or intercept shipment plans that then would lead Villain to foil Heros plans, and the process would repeat in a few weeks. It was so hard to find good help nowadays, so Villain found handling Hero a nice break from handling paperwork. There was monotony in routine, but at least they could take their impatience with their anonymous admirer out on the other.

"Dammit... now of all times, Hero?" They snapped as they stood from their desk.

As much as the alarm irked them, Villain was more irritated their work was being interrupted. Scanners failed to pick up any DNA trace, leading them to another dead end. Somewhere, someone saw Villain and thought fondly of them. For a while, the simple knowledge of it was enough to qualm the loneliness, but now was more of a curse. They called the author a coward. They called the letters a trap. Yet, Villain headed down the hall to pursue a perpetrator after they stayed up until four in the morning... again... to read the letters in hope something would tell them who claimed to adore them so.

The door to the server room was ajar, main lights turned out. The dull glow of blinking red, blue and yellow lights cast shadows on the wall in varied patterns. The main lights were shorted, forcing them to identify misplaced figures in the dim light. It only dug further into Villains impatience with the matter. Against the low hum of the computers, a tinny clank echoed near the back wall.

Villain kept steady strides slow, mindful of the linoleum under their shoes and how quiet their breath was. Silence, as well as any leverage, was better than none, and it worked to Villains virtue when it guided the blade to the turned back of who they knew was tampering with their tech.

"I don't have time for you tonight, Hero," Villain said as they pressed the knife against their spine. "There is plenty of work for me as is without you getting involved."

Dressed in all-black, which happened to be quite flattering for the Hero, they tuned after setting their tools down and raising their hands. Villain took a step forward and pressed the edge to their throat.

"That's why I figure I'd lighten the load~" Hero said, offering an innocent shrug. "By-"

"Yes, yes, thwarting my recruitment of more people through disrupting our log system," Villain droned, pressing the blade harder. "Now really, I do have pressing matters to attend to."

There was a static in the air, and not from the whirring machines around them. The more Villain stood in it, the more irritated they got. It showed in the quick right cross-swing of butt-end of the knife towards Heros head before the move was blocked by Heros hand.

"Wow, whats the matter with you?" Hero mused with a shit-eating grin as he twisted Villains arm into a lock behind their back. The knife clattered onto the floor. "Not very like you to 'not have time for me', Villain. Plus, what a sloppy execution."

"You don't know me, Hero," Villain hummed with a smile in their voice, flexing their hand under Heros grip. "So I'll show you a real sloppy execution."

Villain dug their heel into Heros foot, and used the momentum to twist them to slam into the server paneling. With the grip loosened, Villain snaked away and went for the knife. It was only a second more before Villain was swept off their feet- literally- and hit the ground.

"Yeah, that was pretty sloppy too," Hero said as they went to further restrain the fallen Villain. "You're making me jealous, don't tell me there's another Hero you have to go cause havoc for~ Ugh, I'll be heartbroken!"

Villain struggled against Heros grasp, writhing and twisting their body so they could never get a solid pin. While Hero had their brawn at their side, Villain knew it was only a matter of leverage.

"I do, but they aren't a Hero~"

They took the moment Hero stalled in their attempts to pin them down to get their lets out to kick Hero back, knocking the wind out of them. Villain went for the knife again and came up behind Hero to hold the knife to their throat again.

"Bullshit," Hero gasped out, though an amused smile graced their stupid face. "I can barely tolerate you as it is."

Villain contemplated for a moment. What harm would a white lie do when they didn't even know who was writing the letters? There would be no one else to go after. It would be nice to pretend- Villain did it enough as it was.

"Oh, you should hear how they talk about their love for my vile and vulgar ways Hero. How they adore the plans of misery I make for the thousands," Villain gripped Heros hair and tilted their head back to look at them proper. "And the tongue they have..."

"Then why aren't you with them now?"

"Because I'm dealing with you," Villain said as their jaw set. "A thorn in my side since we crossed paths, and always coming back like a damn infection," They brought the edge up against Heros neck. "You are pestiferous- a plague in my life every time your head pops up." Villain narrowed their eyes, bringing small beads of blood against the blade. "And I think I'm going to purge the source tonight."

"Then do it."

Below them, there was a rumble followed by a blaring alarm from what Villain assumed was a few floors down. It only took one distracted second for Hero grab Villains wrist and flip them over and onto their back before they dove behind a rack of server blocks. There was a flash, and the room filled with smoke. The colors against the smoke were disorienting, yet once Villain got hold of their knife, they could barely make out a figure escaping through one of the vents.

"One thing after a-fucking-nother..." Villain hissed as they ran out from the server room and towards the blaring fire alarm down below.

Once done dealing with the aftermath of a blown-apart storage unit, Villain trudged back up to their office and collapsed in their chair. It was now six in the morning, and looking at the camera they had set up to face their bedroom window at home- no letter to be seen on the window. They pushed their hair back with a sigh, before deciding to freshen up there, and continuing their monotonous work for their empire, with breaks reading loving words Villain needed to hear after such a long night.

---

The seventh letter was different than the rest.

It had taken longer than the rest to arrive- almost a month later than the last one, when the others came once or twice a week. Nights were seemingly endless when Villain would simply stare at the window from the camera. They knew if they were home, they wouldn't arrive, and so they worked long into the night, going home every few days to make sure their plants were watered.

Unlike the other ornate and delicately put together envelopes, the newest came in a simple black one. The handwriting was reminiscent of the others yet the words scrawled unsteadily. The droning news anchor in the background discussed the impending weather as Villain attempted to make sense of everything they were reading.

What was said was not the romantic poetry they were used to, of regrets and promises they wished to keep to Villain of seeing them, of truly being with them and being sure there would be nothing keeping them apart anymore.

The signature at the bottom made Villains heart sink. Not because of who had written the confession they read. Not because it was from someone they wouldn't have wanted at all. But because it wasn't a signature at all.

Except a smear of blood.

Villains head felt light, the corners of their vision hazing a little as they tried to make sense of what it all meant. They sat down in their chair, still staring at the letter before them. It wasn't until the news anchor interrupted their broadcast with breaking news.

'The beloved and respected savior of our beautiful city, Hero, has officially been pronounced dead today by coroners after their body had been returned to city officials by an anonymous source. Further details the cause to be released.'

"No..."

They took a long look at the radio, eyes wide in disbelief as their mind began to piece everything together. In a moment, they were at their sequencer and after they got a sample of the paper, pulled out their knife. What little blood left from their fight with Hero remained, and they flaked off the dry remains in the other bottle. Time blurred as they waited, walking crop circles into their carpet while the machine processed the samples.

They didn't see anyone on the cameras the night before. No sound, no disturbance. First nothing was on the window, and when daylight broke, there it was. They hadn't dealt with Hero recently, which they only grew to notice the more they thought.

They couldn't settle down, and any time their office door was knocked on, they would simply throw a book at it and tell whoever it was to bother them tomorrow. Word must have gone around because soon the knocking stopped and Villain was left alone with the machine, which whirred just like the servers did their last night with Hero.

They were pulled out of their mind when the machine stopped, and the face glowed green with the information Villain already put together in their walk about their office.

DNA Sequencing Completed- Results: 100% Match

---

Villain drummed their thumb against the steering wheel of the car. Occasionally, it would follow the tempo of their racing heart, or the shake in their muscles from the adrenaline in their blood. The timer they set on their phone for five minutes was halfway through. Villain regretted even permitting that much time to wait. It had been too long already, and with any more time, they could be too late.

Three minutes and no sign. Villain shifted in their seat, instead now tapping their foot and squeezing their hands together. The last they slept was indistinct, waiting for the right moment to make their next move. A drastic one, which would leave more loose ends than they would like, but it was just as a drastic situation they had on their hands.

Four minutes and Villain was getting ready to get out and handle the ordeal themselves. They checked to make sure their gun was loaded, as they did a dozen or so times before even though they hadn't used it. Before they reached the door handle, the passenger side opened to Villains relief.

"Very good. Hurry up." Villain said, gesturing with the gun to get in.

Five minutes was all Villain needed. As they sped off, the silence was cushioned by the low hum of the car. Villain didn't know what to think. What to say. What if, in the time they were gone, Hero was too? The thoughts were heavy as Villain drove, until their passenger pulled them out of their head.

"I shouldn't be doing this..."

"Then why are you." Villain said, rather than asked.

"Well, you told me with a gun to my head that you hunt me down and kill my girlfriend in front of me, then send my body parts to various family members."

"Good memory, and I will if you make any attempts to run."

"Good to know..." The accomplice said with a tight-lipped smile before looking down at the bag.

"And... I'm helping someone, aren't I?" They asked after another moment of passing silence. "Someone you care about?"

There was a thick lump that sunk into Villains throat. It irked them to know they had to get outside sources with such a high risk, but they were pushed to no other choice. They offered a single, but humble nod before turning off onto a dirt road.

"What the fuck did you say you did again?"

"I'm a first assistant," they said as they shuffled the medical bag on their lap while twisting the handles nervously. "Not quite a surgeon, but I'm getting there."

"Of course, I pick up the intern in the operating room..." Villain uttered as they watched the road. The car, being small, only allowed the young surgeon to hear the remark clearly.

"The operating rooms of the ICU," they huffed a bit too confidently for Villains liking. "Much more intense and less room for error. I mostly make sure the room is clean but I do help with sutures, and other general care."

With a less than patient sigh, Villain parked the car in the driveway and looked the young surgeon square in the face, gun held towards them with a finger threatening pressure on the trigger.

"Keep your attitude in check, and keep them alive." They said flatly. "Both the person I'm bringing you to, and your girlfriend."

It had just been the two of them since Hero showed up battered, beaten and bloodied just two weeks before. They hadn't gotten better and while Villain was good at many things, medical diagnosis weren't one of them. They took leave from work to get Hero somewhere more secluded than Villains home closer to the city.

When Hero was awake, Villain limited themselves to one question because Hero would get winded from speaking too much. Day by day, they learned how Hero wanted things to be different, not only for themselves only, but between the two. How they grew to love Villain, admire them and respect them, to want them yet be restricted from doing so. Hero detailed how they convinced a select few to assist them in faking their death with a glow which made Villain hopeful, but then Hero fell asleep before telling them how it went, and hadn't woke up since. It'd been three days.

With a nervous nod in understanding, the two got out of the car, and Villain walked the man to the house with a gun drawn on them the entire way. Sleepless nights were still to come, yet there was a bit more relief in knowing Hero stood more of a chance now. Villain hoped they didn't make a mistake, for Hero wouldn't be able to survive it.

#WOW much thank you for your patience! #with so much to work with I toyed around with what I wanted to do #plus life stuff idk #did you know it takes like weeks to sequence dna but the world record is 5 hours #so im going with that #i remember in my criminology class playing a ncis game about dna sequencing which I thought was pretty neat #did you also know that servers rooms benefit from valley areas because the wind is able to keep the building cooler? #there are also surgeons and first assistants and then surgical technicians like a tiered thing #anyways enjoy! #corpus indulgence #my writing #villain x hero #hero x villain #angst #writing #villain × hero

[parentsbesluts]

screenshot redraws for practice. textless versions under the cut

#patton #janus #logan #remus #virgil #roman #art #i planned on doing more of these but i figured this was enough for now #if this post does well enough ill make the rest of em #sanders sides #patton sanders #ts patton #janus sanders #ts janus #logan sanders #ts logan #remus sanders #ts remus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #dont ask why patt and jan are in here twice. i have no idea #jan has hisses cane btw its just out of frame #also i changed romans onesie because fuck disney. hes a wolf now. because. romulus ❤️

[snekdood]

so uh

for 1. most people are gonna take advantage of black friday and wont see your specific niche tumblr post, I hate to say it

2. the us isnt running out of money for war any time soon, so...

3. this is just antisemitism???????? all we need is some (((echoes))) around the us and israel and then I'd have no reason to suspect otherwise from op...............

#why in tf do you think they care that much about getting your money rn and not before in any other war? #does it. mayhaps. have something to do w jewish people being involved now? #our tax dollars go to the govt regardless and has been for years and we already have an obscene amount of funding for military shit #preeetty sure they're not concerned about getting a couple hundred tumblr users money... #and also pretty sure one could only believe that if they're paranoid about jewish ppl................. #hard not to put two and two together and figure out op is prolly antisemitic and hopefully they just dont realize it #i say hopefully they dont realize it bc thats better than someone who knows and is pretending to be a leftist still. #if anything this pause happened bc its thanksgiving and biden doesnt wanna think about it over the holidays. thats p much it. #thats the only amount of conspiracy theory im willing to believe in this situation lmao. #but that ^ still assumes that biden has some sort of control over this that he really doesnt #and i dont think netanyahu cares that much about thanksgiving tbr... #it sounds more like to me that op is seeing this from a very american centric pov and assumes everyone celebrates thanksgiving #or cares enough about it to remember the dates.... i dont think this is as planned as op is making it out to be and any insinuation #that it IS planned sounds like conspiracy theory talk to me personally. i dont think biden is hittin netanyahu up and going #'hey thursday is thanksgiving and would be the perfect time to pause so we can (((get peoples money))) out of them #asiftheUSdoesnthaveplentyalready' like i just really dont think that convo is happening lmao.