#(okay okay okay I GUESS that I have a higher tolerance

[rubys-domain]

sometimes i wonder if i'm the right amount of critical, or if i'm just really hard to please.

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (II)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

part i here

summary: Gojo is uncharacteristically insecure and unsure to the point of double guessing himself—something practically unheard of for the self-proclaimed Honored One. Meanwhile, the ever-feared blood-laden flowers make an unwelcome appearance.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: mentions of sickness and blood, descriptions of vomiting (caution to fellow ppl with emetophobia), characters are anxious and stressed!, cussing (obvs), use of (Y/N), kidnapping!

genre: hanahaki disease au, hurt/comfort, DRAMA

a/n: Here is part 2 (finally lol)! It is a whole 6.7k words (😫) to make up for not updating until now haha. This chapter features serious!Gojo and worried!Gojo 😳. It seems out of character but it’s intentional (or so I claim). Also, I kinda make a pun out of Utahime’s name—hime (姫) means princess in Japanese! Two last notes: for clarification—I use italics to emphasize things, but also for characters’ thoughts. Geto is still alive (still excommunicated tho) in this timeline. More notes at the end of the chapter!

“Hey, ‘Hime, when’s your lunch break today?”

He hears a scoff that hardly conceals the crackly laugh that follows through his speakers. Her laugh is delicate and bright, even over the phone.

“Don’t call me that, Gojo. Never been into the princess thing.”

“We’ve been over this, it’s Satoru. And what should I call you then? Hime is perfect, it’s literally in your name.”

“I’ll call you Satoru if you call me by my real name: Utahime.”

“You’re so boringgg! Come on!” He whines, pretending to pout.

Utahime breathes in sharply at his words, “Satoru…you shouldn’t say things like that.”

Gojo stops walking. His brow creases in confusion: this is how he has always behaved, with obviously facetious and playful words. Even the people that claim they can’t stand him the most, like Shoko and Nanami, recognize when his words are intentionally over the top or ridiculous. Utahime also knows this: he has not concealed this aspect of his personality from her.

He can’t stop his next words from being spoken with a twinge of annoyance. “I was kidding, you know. Is something wrong?”

Utahime sighs, “No, no. Sorry, I’m just a bit stressed since the higher-ups asked for a meeting with me. Have no idea what it’s about…”

“They did? So, you’re not free for lunch? Please say you are…”

His words feel unnatural and stilted, but he brushes the feeling aside. He’s probably just nervous since it’s her, right?

“Yeah, I’m going to my meeting in a few, but I should be able to make it. Could you get the reservation for us?” Utahime asks, tone leaning on snippy.

“Mm, maybe. What’s the magic word?” He teases with a playful tone, trying to lighten her mood. This should work, it should make her feel better. He has experience with this.

“C’mon Gojo, not now,” She groans, apparently disgruntled. “But, fine, could you please make the reservation?”

He frowns. Not exactly the reaction he anticipated.

“Okay, but next time you gotta call me Satoru,” He says with a small awkward chuckle, this time easing up a bit on his teasing tone. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, though.”

“Sure,” She snorts, but not in the way that she would if she thought it was funny. It’s a sardonic snort, rather, and he would bet money that her eyes are rolling.

A loud click signals the end of conversation, but his phone remains pressed to his ear. He lowers it slowly, a strange feeling swirling in his chest. It’s an uneasy, heavy feeling from deep down, but he can’t discern what exactly it means.

“Why would I expect that to work?” He mutters to himself. “That’s so annoying, who would tolerate that?”

Suddenly, an image flashes under his eyelids, almost making him flinch at how intensely it conjures itself. A vivid apparition of you doubled over in laughter appears in his mind. It’s a memory, he realizes: you’re leaning on him as tears part from your eyes, unable to catch your breath due to how hard you’re laughing at one of his horrible, stupid jokes.

He remembers this moment well. You had been crying for real before—quietly sniffling, trying to hide it from him. He knew that you hated crying in front of others—trying to always appear strong, he knew this feeling well—so he started direct attention away from it with the corniest jokes he could make. That’s when your tears, first full of the hurt that he could clearly see in your crumpled expression, turned into ones of relief and joy. Your eyes had sparkled with some other emotion he couldn’t identify—something familiar, something that made him feel warm in the chest, but also made him feel so, so scared.

He never did figure out what it was. Or, rather, he has tried not to dwell on it. Every time it pops into his head, he pushes it down, the fear rising in him each time he comes closer to the answer.

Utahime never made him feel like that. That must be better. He never feels scared like that when he thinks of his feelings for her. That must be better, it has to be.

He enjoys talking to Utahime. He likes that he can get under her skin with little effort, likes how easily he can get a rise out of her: and most of the time, she’s amused by it, giggling and slapping his arm. He’s never scared with Utahime, but…why does something feel wrong?

His fingers, typing in his name for the reservation, pause and begin to tremble when he sees what he typed. He typed your name. His eyes widen beneath his blindfold—he’s grateful it helps to conceal his expression, even if nobody he knows is around. In truth, this is partly why he seldom removes it; he masks his true emotions more often than not. Not that anyone suspects it, though, too convinced by his saccharine smiles and forever jocular personality.

The blue horizontal line blinks in and out of existence as his fingers hover over his keyboard. Your name, though written in normal text, appears bolded to him: it sucks his attention away from anything else on his screen. He begins to break out in a sweat.

Sweating just from their name? How pathetic…

He shakes his head, frantically backspacing, trying to erase all traces of you from his mind. He’s been trying to do this for months, ever since he began to distance himself from you. There is a legitimate reason he has been giving you the cold shoulder, but it feels like an excuse to drive away this fear that grips him when he thinks of that warmth, that sparkle in your eyes.

Fuck. Now he can’t get that image of you out of his mind—his chest aches, his breathing comes quicker, but he does not know why.

He walks almost endlessly in the town he booked the restaurant in, in a pace-like fashion. His large stature and height make the brisk pace he walks at look absurdly hurried to passerbys: they stare at him unabashedly and he barely notices.

It’s only when he checks his phone that he realizes how much time has passed since he called Utahime. His reservation is soon: he will be late if he doesn’t start walking there now. Shit.

His breath comes heavy when he finally reaches the restaurant. It’s a casual yet nice ramen place—something familiar yet suitable for a lunch date. He’s wearing a baby blue button down shirt, nice slacks, and trades in his blindfold for heavily shaded sunglasses: also suitable for a lunch date.

A date. Yes, that’s what he’s on. A nice lunch date with a girl whom he kissed before the first date. A bit untraditional, not that he would be one to mind.

He approaches the hostess, about to ask for a table for two, but then he spots a familiar red ribbon perfectly adorning the dark strands of hair she always pulls back. She’s already here, sitting alone in the corner.

Gojo sighs. Fuck, ‘messed up again.

He hurriedly stumbles over to Utahime, probably looking a bit disheveled. She gives him a questioning glance at his appearance—Gojo laughs and immediately plasters on an easy smile.

“Hey,” He says nonchalantly, slowly lowering himself into the chair opposite her.

“Hey. You’re late,” She notes, but she doesn’t sound as bothered as he thought she would. “Did something happen? You look…like something happened.”

He goes along with it, sighing dramatically, “How’d you know? Yeah, Yaga was bothering me about some mission stuff. Dumb paperwork I’m supposed to do and whatever.”

She smiles, but it’s tight lipped, “Of course. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all sweaty.”

“I am?” He questions, feigning confusion, but his next words are partly true. “Ah, well, I realized I was gonna be late since he was pestering me so much. Guess I walked too fast.”

“Hmm,” Is all she says. She stirs the tea in front of her with a small spoon, expression blank as she does so.

Once he realizes she isn’t going to initiate talking further, he takes it upon himself, “How did the meeting go?”

She stops stirring. She sets down the spoon more harshly than she means to: it clangs loudly on the tea tray.

“I have some questions,” She says seriously.

“Questions? About what?” He asks.

Her dark, stormy eyes meet his. “…About you.”

He gulps, “Sure! What type of questions? You know, people ask me a lot of stuff. I’m sure I can handle anything.”

He winks at her, his usual smirk spreading across his face. Maybe if he jokes he can diffuse this god-awful tension. Not that it worked before, but he can try.

Utahime blinks slowly, exhaling deeply, as if attempting to calm herself down. He can see the fire in her eyes between blinks.

“How about that the higher-ups were asking me about my relation to you, when they believed you to only show interest in someone else?”

No. They can’t still believe that.

Terror strikes Gojo’s heart, electrifying his nerves, but he tries to play it off. He breathes out a chuckle and a few weak words, “That wasn’t a question.”

“For once in your life, be serious! We’ve only been dating for 3 weeks and I–” She inhales deeply. “I don’t think it’s a good sign that you’re intentionally avoiding answering me about this.”

“I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re talking about. Who did they even ask about? I can’t think of anyone they could say that about.” He’s lying through his teeth. Alarm bells are ringing through his head, and he dreads her answer.

She narrows her eyes, but seems convinced enough at his alleged cluelessness.

“They were asking about (Y/N). Asking about…your relationship with them. About how close you are. Asking if it’s changed.”

Gojo takes a sip from his glass, avoiding her eyes.“Well, did they say why? Seems awfully strange to ask you about it.”

She’s silent for a few seconds, mulling over her next words. They end up making Gojo bristle. “Satoru, you know I couldn’t tell you even if they did.”

His tone is abruptly serious. “The hell does that mean?”

She blinks at him slowly, with anger flashing in her dark eyes. “Gakuganji is very involved with them. If I told you, it would definitely get back to him. Who knows how he would punish me.”

"So you'd rather possibly endanger (Y/N)?" Gojo scoffs.

“Who said anything about danger?” Utahime says lowly, suspicion clear in her voice.

“Well, when the higher ups ask questions about my life, it usually isn’t just for fun,” Gojo says with a shrewd smile. “I don’t know what the hell they’re thinking so I can only assume the worst.”

“Does this really matter right now? (Y/N) is capable enough if it does turn out like that, and besides, I sorted it all out. Told them that your ‘relationship’ is fine and dandy and yada yada.”

Gojo sucks in a breath, nerves beginning to turn in his stomach. No. No! That’s not what I wanted…

Utahime doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort and continues, “You two have always been close…didn’t you have a thing for each other in high school? They have always had these eyes for you.”

Her tone is strange, gushing and gossipy yet also jealous.

“What?” Gojo says more loudly than intended as he takes in all of the information Utahime just casually dropped.

“You know, I even told them that you two were meant to be together,” She chuckles. “Funny how things work out—or, rather, don’t work out.”

Gojo’s stomach twists painfully at her insinuation—even though it shouldn’t. He likes Utahime, he’s with Utahime. Not with you. He’s not with you, he has never been with you.

“Gojo,” Utahime says suddenly. He blinks rapidly in surprise, eyes finally landing on hers. “Can we agree to be honest with each other?”

“Of course. What do you mean?” He says easily, nervously.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” She shakes her head. “You’re deflecting at every question I ask. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Gojo lets himself sigh this time.

He studies her expression. She’s beautiful, he has to admit. She’s beautiful, but she’s not you.

“Utahime…what is this all about?” He asks slowly.

“I should be asking you that,” She counters. “Why did you ask me out if you won’t actively participate in our relationship?”

“What do you mean? I’m here, aren’t I?” Gojo responds carefully.

“But you mind isn’t,” Utahime sighs. “You’re miles away, Satoru. You always are. When you’re with me, you’re not thinking of me, are you?”

The question is so accurate that it seems rhetorical to Gojo, to the point of him not responding for many moments before he realizes she is genuinely asking him.

It’s so true and yet he physically cannot bring himself to admit to it. “I mean, I think about the higher-ups and work related stuff a lot. I’m sorry I haven’t been that present on dates and stuff, but–”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Gojo!” Utahime hisses out, tone bordering on venomous. “You’re always thinking about them. You make decisions thinking of them. I bet even when you kiss me, you think about them. Are you going to deny that?”

“Utahime…” He says softly, guilt constricting his vocal chords.

“I don’t understand you, Gojo. You asked me out and have taken me on fancy dates as if you want a committed relationship, but then your mind is always wandering away. I know that you still care for them, but then I heard from Shoko that you’ve been ignoring them for months. And then the fucking higher-ups ask me your relationship with them. Why would they ask me that and why would they even care? Something isn’t adding up. What’s really going on here?”

Gojo blinks in surprise at the depth of concern in her voice. It’s like she has already moved on from her jealousy towards you, and now is worried for you.

He must look surprised, because she adds on, “Just so you know, I’m not that sad. You’re kind of a shithead for doing this to me, but this wasn’t that serious for me. Obviously not for you, either.”

Gojo winces. Everything she has said so far has been true, but he wishes it wasn’t.

“Iori, I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t even realize that…that I was doing that,” Gojo sighs. “And to answer your question—I didn’t want to tell anyone, but I think I owe it to you. I don’t know what’s going on either, and that’s what scares me. I have no idea what they want or what they’re plotting, but it can’t be anything good.”

Utahime sits there with a small smirk on her face. When he raises an eyebrow at her expression, she just chuckles and shakes her head. “You can’t even say their name. Just how much denial are you in?”

He can’t even answer. He just sits there, a hand brushing his cheeks in order the cover the warmth the rises at the mention of the depth of his denial concerning his feelings for you.

When she realizes he isn’t going to answer, Utahime rises out of her seat. “Well, I guess I can say I’m officially breaking up with you, not that you or I really care. Just…if you need help with this, just know I’m in your corner, yeah? Unless it’s something to do with Gakuganji, and in that case my hands would be tied. Otherwise, just ask. You know, I wasn’t joking when I said I rooted for you guys in high school. That’s a fact and I can’t deny it.

You should really figure this out—for their sake. It sounds like they’re not having the best time with it. And besides, as much as it pains me to say it, you owe it to yourself after fighting against whatever feelings you have had for them for so many years.”

He doesn’t interrupt her even once, instead quietly absorbing her advice. He fidgets at the mention of his feelings for you, still uncomfortable even at the thought of them. Still scared.

“Goodbye for now, Satoru. I hope you figure all this shit out. Have a nice lunch,” She says coldly as she readies her things. Her coldness stings a bit, but what else could he expect?

“Oh, one last thing,” Utahime pauses. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me this, but I guess you’re too in over to head right now to think straight. I think I might know partly why they have taken an interest in (Y/N).”

Gojo’s gaze turns to her sharply, blue eyes bright with curiosity behind his shades. “Why? How do you know?”

“I think the higher-ups must have asked Yaga about them. I forgot until now, but they were asking me if I knew anything about (Y/N)‘s identity. And who would know better than anyone? Your nosey principal who digs deep on everyone,” She rolls her eyes, huffing out a small but humorless laugh. “Well, that should be it then. Bye, ex-boyfriend.”

She gives him one last look, then struts away with her head held high. He sincerely hopes she isn’t hurting too much, despite her very “okay with it” façade.

So it has to do with your identity? In Satoru’s view, you have somewhat of an average identity for a sorcerer. A grade one sorcerer who comes from a sorcerer family. You had not inherited your clan’s special innate technique, but you are still pretty strong regardless. There’s nothing unusual about your background, or at least to the best of his knowledge.

And yet this sickening feeling has begun to creep into his stomach, that feeling that something is horribly wrong. What he does not know is what he cannot control, and each heartbeat and breath of his feels tortured with the knowledge that you may not be safe.

Shoko won’t stop texting you, almost on the hour, despite your radio silence. It’s strange when you think about it—she has always hated texting, always grumbling that it’s going to give her carpal tunnel someday. And yet here she is, blowing up your phone with notifications.

You haven’t been to school in weeks, taking mission after mission instead. It’s very obvious that you’ve been avoiding Shoko and Gojo, but you won’t admit that.

The missions have been grueling and gruesome—your stomach turns when the curses you exorcised spring to mind. They were ghastly and frankly were some of the most mentally scarring curses you’ve encountered. So, you’ve decided to take a break.

You feel your skin crawl when you’re sitting at home doing nothing—the curses come to mind much more easily, and also thoughts of him—so you abandon being cozy for the sake of your mind. It’s cold outside, so cold that your breath greets you in a cloud with every puff of air you release. Winter has arrived, and it nips at your cheeks and numbs your extremities just to remind you.

You haven’t been coping well, and you know it. Avoiding thoughts of Gojo has not been working very well, even after physically avoiding him. You try to forget what you heard that day, but it won’t escape your mind no matter how much you distract yourself. You think of Utahime: her beauty, her quiet strength, of how she always seems so calm and collected and yet somehow always makes her voice heard. She has everything that you lack.

The skin of your face burns with envy when you think about her. And when you picture her with Gojo—her dark eyes looking into his pooling blue depths, her leaning forward and up to kiss him—your chest crumbles in on itself.

It hurts. Right now, everything surrounding Gojo Satoru hurts.

But today, you will change that. This will definitely help. You’ve taken yourself out of your apartment and straight into a place that has always lifted your spirits—the local florist.

You scour the aisles, wincing at the very romantic red roses and the bright yellow daffodils. But then something catches your eye: an array of festive bouquets.

You end up picking out a bouquet fit for the season: it features a string of cranberries, enveloped by branches of pine and pinecones, with a striped garland draped around it all. Despite all of your poisonous feelings inside, you crack a small smile at the sight.

You take it home, putting care into the beautiful and yet flowerless bouquet. You carefully mix the plant food into a vase full of cool water, cut the ends of the stems under running water, then submerge the bouquet.

It brings a sense of homeliness that you’ve been desperately missing ever since you’ve starting living on your own. It almost soothes the ache in your chest.

But, as always, reality swoops in to remind you that you cannot run from your feelings within. Within only minutes of arranging the new bouquet, you accidentally swipe at the vase. It crashes to the floor, the glass shattering everywhere, glinting beautifully as it spins through the air. The cranberries begin to bleed into the water, the impact too much for them to tolerate.

You bend down, slowly processing the collision. When you stare into the expanding pool of water, you see wild eyes brimming with pain. Brimming with heartache. It is then that you are painfully reminded what cranberries represent: a cure for heartache.

The irony is not lost on you. You begin to howl in laughter, and the voice that reverberates back to you sounds crazed.

Then, it begins. You abruptly stop breathing; you are choked, silenced, almost as if something is blocking your airway. And then your throat begins to convulse, an instinctual reaction to choking, and you have no choice but to obey your body. You stumble through the shards of glass and collapse at the foot of your toilet. You heave and heave—whatever is lodged in your throat is large, making it difficult and painful to retch up.

When you finally use enough force to hack up the offending object, you freeze at the sight in front of you. Vibrant hydrangeas the same color as his eyes float in a murky red cloud. Blue hydrangeas: a symbol of rejection and regret.

Your chest bursts in pain at the realization. You are in love with Gojo Satoru, and he doesn’t love you back.

You feel another bloom emerging from within. You shudder in fear, knowing that you have little time left. Once the flowers present themselves, death is almost always imminent.

You spend the next few hours by the toilet, conjuring a newer, more painful bouquet than the one that lays in shattered remains in your living room.

“You told them what?” Gojo exhales deeply, a sigh following his exasperated words. He pinches the bridge of his nose—a gesture uncharacteristic for someone as self-assured as him.

“That (Y/N) is important to you,” Yaga Masamichi states calmly. “Satoru, there is no reason to fret. Their intentions concerning this matter are pure.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now? The higher-ups intentions are anything but pure.”

“I can sense that you are agitated,” He observes, eyebrows beginning to furrow. “But you are blinded by your bias. They first and foremost protect our community. (Y/N) is of no threat to Jujutsu society, thus they should be in no danger.”

“You don’t understand,” Gojo shakes his head. He is clearly angry, but now his nerves are showing through more: his voice is uneven and his tone has an air of desperation. “The higher-ups are out to get them. I don’t have any answers for that, even though I’ve been searching for months. I’ve had to show indifference towards (Y/N) to convince them that there is nothing between us, and it was starting to work. Why did you tell them this without consulting me first?”

A frown etches Masamichi’s stony features. Behind his shaded glasses, his eyes rake over his former student, taking in his state. Gojo isn’t one to openly show fear or anxiety, yet his breathing is audibly shaky and his fingers twitch by his side.

“I see I have made a mistake,” Masamichi concedes. “But why are you so convinced the higher-ups have ill intentions toward them?”

Gojo begins to pace back and forth in front of Yaga’s desk—also very unlike him.

“They called me to meet them a few months ago, asking what my relationship with (Y/N) is. I brushed it off at first and basically told them to stop sticking their nose into my business, but then I started to notice something.”

Gojo pauses by a window. The light streams down onto his face, illuminating his rather uncommonly stoic portrait.

“They started assigning (Y/N) missions that were labeled as second or first grade, but actually turned out to be special grade. And it can’t be coincidental—the incident rate of this happening is much higher for (Y/N)’s assignments than any other person.”

“That does seem to be true,” Masamichi comments, thinking back to reports he’s reviewed.

“No, not seem,” Gojo snaps. “That is the reality of this situation. Ever since I realized that, I’ve acted coldly towards (Y/N), distancing myself as much as possible. And guess what? No more special grade missions. Less injuries. And—”

“Satoru!” Masamichi raises his voice, pulling Gojo out of his frantic spiel. He blinks in surprise; he didn’t even realize how much or how fast he has been speaking.

“I don’t know what they are thinking or planning, but stressing like this will not help the situation. This is our world; this is how they operate,” Masamichi says, leaning forward and resting his chin on steepled fingers. “We will find a way around this.”

“It shouldn’t be like this,” Gojo says, voice rumbling deep and low, dangerously quiet.

“They are resistant to change,” Masamichi counters. “We can’t directly influence their decisions.”

“Not if they can’t make them anymore,” Satoru snorts, a dark and bitter smirk curling his lips.

“That is completely out of the question,” Yaga says firmly in a warning tone.

“Their thinking is antiquated,” Gojo argues. “I think we need a complete refresh.”

“And yours is too radical and rash. No, Gojo. I will not even entertain your idea.” Yaga says with a note of finality.

“Won’t you let me have my fun?” Gojo sighs, exaggerating his disappointment. “You’re such a drag, old man.”

Yaga almost smiles. He’s back to his normal antics.

“So, there is nothing that you can think of that would cause the higher-ups to go after them like this? I know you looked into all of your students closely even before you became principal. You must know something.”

Yaga frowns. You were his student and, as Gojo claims, he did thoroughly look into your background. But—how can you truly be thorough when the information presented is so little?

“There was little to nothing on them,” Yaga says. “Even when I tried digging further, I didn’t find much. However…there are rumors that they have made a Binding Vow.”

“A Binding Vow?” Gojo echoes back. “That’s very vague. That can mean practically anything.”

“But it’s still interesting, is it not?” Yaga says with a wry smile. “If the higher-ups have heard, we can only assume that the Binding Vow is with another entity, not with themselves. Otherwise, why would they be interested? That is assuming this is true, of course.”

“Who did you hear this from?” Gojo asks. “Someone credible?”

“I’m not sure about their credibility. And you can’t really go out and interrogate them, even if you wanted to. If you did, there would be another expectation for your visit.”

Gojo grows suspicious from his obvious attempt at a non-answer, “Yaga, who?”

He sighs, “Geto Suguru.”

There’s silence. Then, Gojo cackles—it’s a bitter and sardonic laugh, slightly crazed as well—and shakes his head.

“Of course. Of course it was from him,” Gojo continues laughing, a hand covering his face this time. “Guess you’re right—there’s no avenue for conversation there. In that case, I’ve gotta go. See ya, old man.”

Yaga bristles at the nickname, but does not attempt chastise Gojo as he walks away without waiting for Yaga’s response. It simply doesn’t work, so why waste his breath?

Gojo walks out, digging his cell phone out of his pocket. He opens his text conversation with you, fingers twitching over the keyboard. But what would he even say? The last texts are all from you, scattered over a few weeks from literal months ago. He didn’t respond to any of them. He feels the need to contact you, but how would he even start that? ‘Hey, I know I’ve been ignoring you for months, but I heard that you might have told Geto that you made a Binding Vow and I think the higher-ups know about it.’

Nope. That’s not gonna work. He swipes the texting app out of existence, then locks his phone and puts it back in his pocket.

He leans back on the pillar, resting his head while he closes his eyes. Why does everything surrounding you have to be so complicated? Then, a series of hurried footsteps meets his ears, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it is. Gojo is ambushed by someone he hasn’t seen for a few days—your mutual friend, Shoko.

“I heard what happened from Utahime,” She says immediately.

Gojo exhales loudly, not even trying to conceal his annoyance, “Shoko, I really don’t have time for this right now.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on.” She says firmly, her tone hard.

“What? We broke up. What’s more to say?” Gojo says dismissively.

“No, Gojo. That’s not all there is. Things have been going on. She told me that she’s concerned for (Y/N) but wouldn’t tell me more. And it just so happens that I have been texting them just about every day for weeks and have heard nothing back. Tell me there’s ‘nothing more to say’ again! Because obviously something is going on.”

Gojo inhales sharply, his breath suspended at her words. He shifts his weight forward, finally leaning away from the pillar. Shoko takes notice of his surprise.

She sighs, deciding to clarify one detail, “They’ve still been taking missions so I assume that they’re fine…but they’ve never ghosted me like this. Even back then, when Geto…they didn’t…agh. Well, you know what I’m saying. I don’t know what they’re thinking.”

He only really gathered one thing from that. So you’re safe for now. Gojo recovers, his expression evening out into something more normal.

“Shoko, I don’t want to complicate things further,” Gojo sighs. “Too many people are already involved in this, ones I had no intention of involving. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I should say anything.”

“You ass!” She shouts at him, making his eyes widen under his blindfold. Shoko never blows up like this—she’s always indifferent and sort of passive. “They’re my friend too, and I want to know what’s going on!”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” Gojo blurts out. Shoko blinks rapidly, shocked by the volume of his voice. He hates getting emotional like this, but he can’t help it when he’s so fucking worried. “I don’t know, Shoko. The higher-ups have been probing into my life, but this time– this time it’s about them, and I don’t know why they want to know. I don’t know what they’re looking for. I’m just praying every day that they stop, but then somebody else in our circle tells me that the higher-ups keep mentioning them. I don’t know what’s going on, but it can’t be good.”

She looks at him, finally noticing how…un-Gojo-like he looks and sounds. Worrying about others isn’t something that Gojo does, or at least not something he ever speaks about. He never has his brow creased like he does right now. He doesn’t bite his lip in worry, either, so why is he biting down so hard he’s almost pulling blood?

“Okay,” Shoko yields. “Okay. I believe you. I didn’t realize…I didn’t believe that you still cared so much.”

“You don’t even know,” He mutters under his breath, but Shoko still hears it. She acts like she doesn’t.

“Well, if you hear anything, tell me, okay?” Shoko asks him with a low exhale. “They’re really stressing me out.”

She pulls out a lighter and a cigarette, prepared to light up. The blinks, and the cigarette now lays on the ground, mysteriously absent from her grip.

“Fuck you,” She grumbles. “You know, that’s littering.”

She hates to say it, but her chest, heavy with worry, lightens a bit as his regular smirk spreads across his face. She feels a bit more hopeful as Gojo disappears in front of her, the wind from the teleportation blowing her hair and lab coat around furiously.

“If only you two weren’t idiots, this mess might have solved itself ages ago,” She chuckles to herself. “The densest people I know.”

Your lungs ache. You wheeze with each breath. You blink blearily, rubbing your eyes with one hand. You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep while you’ve been laying on the cold tile in your bathroom. The air is tinged with iron—the smell of your own blood curdles your stomach.

“What time is it?” You mutter to yourself, and jolt at the sound of your own voice. It’s raspy and weak; you almost don’t recognize it as being your own.

Your hands skate across the smooth tile as you try to locate your phone. When you finally do, you grab it and bring it close to your face. Your eyes, barely cracked open, ache at the bright light of your screen.

The time reads as 3:31 AM. You’ve really been here for that long? Under the time, a plethora of texts from Shoko appear. You groan and slam your phone back down on the ground, ignoring the guilt that rises from how long you’ve been flat out ignoring your friend.

I’m being just like Gojo. Your lips curl down at the realization.

You feel a wave of weakness wash over you, and you are forced to lay back down on the ground. You are half conscious, vision swimming half through dream and half through reality. You can barely think, barely process your own actions.

You feel cold metal in your hands, smooth glass under your fingers. You are tapping randomly, the light blinding you so much that you can’t open your eyes to see what exactly you’re doing.

All you hear is your own horrible breath. And then you hear a voice.

“(Y/N)? You called me?”

You blink blankly in confusion. Did you? You can only assume that you did.

“‘Guess so,” You try to say, but you can barely get it out with how sore your throat is. “Who…who is it?”

“What do you mean? You called me, silly.” They say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 3 am. Are you drunk or something?”

Why can’t you recognize their voice? Their voice sounds underwater to you. Your head is spinning so much and your ears begin to ring. Your feel yourself slipping from reality.

You hear yourself saying words, but you don’t remember thinking them.

“No…gonna pass out. Or die. Can’t tell.”

“What? (Y/N), what’s going on? Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you right now.”

You swear you know that voice. It’s deep and smooth, but filled with so much worry that you barely recognize it. He’s never sounded this scared before.

“Oh, you’re…you’re Satoru,” You wheeze out. “Why? Why you?”

You’re not making much sense, you don’t think. But you can’t, not with how far from reality you are right now.

You called him? It’s just too painful, too cruel a fate, that you accidentally called the man you’re in love with and who doesn’t love you back while you’re knocking on death’s door. You cough violently and choke on the bloody petals that rise to your throat. You wince in pain and struggle to breathe.

He is bordering on panic now, but he fights to keep it out of his voice. “It’s okay, (Y/N), just tell me where you are. You’re on a mission, r-right? I’ll come get you. Just hold on.”

Confusion floods your brain. A mission? Are you on a mission? Is that why the scent of blood is clogging your nose?

Your heart beat pounds in your head, faster and faster. It’s scary just how confused you are—how do you not know where you are?

“I don’t know,” You choke out. You didn’t even realize you were crying. “I don’t know where I am.”

“It’s okay, c-can you check your phone for me? It’ll tell you your location. Just open it and–” His breathing is fast. “And check in your maps. Please. Please (Y/N), I need you to do this for me. Then–then everything will be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” You answer softly. “How do–”

You startle at the sound of a loud bang, your own gasp cutting off your words.

The door to your bathroom—that’s where you are—is knocked down, nearly missing your form where you lay on the tile.

Satoru is calling your name desperately, his voice louder with each repetition of your name. You can’t decipher any other words, but you know he’s shouting things, trying to get you to say something, to say anything so that he knows you’re okay.

A dark shape towers over you. You can’t make out who it is with your blurry vision and with how dark it is—but you are immediately intimidated by their large, broad frame.

“There you are,” They snarl. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this to happen. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

You scramble to get up, grabbing your phone while you unsteadily rise on your shaky legs. You are an inch away from passing out and you fight the feeling with every ounce of your strength.

“Not looking too good, are we?” He says, tutting mockingly. “That’s perfect. Remember what we agreed on, my dear (Y/N)?”

You stare at him blankly, no recognition in your eyes.

“Silly me! Of course you don’t remember. That was intentional, you know. A good move on my part,” He chuckles, and it’s a soft sound that juxtaposes his words. “While you’re the one who has to suffer. Don’t blame me too much, though…this is all situational. It’s not like I ever disliked you or anything. It just has to be like this.”

You hear Satoru’s voice again, and this time it sounds dangerous, “Who the fuck is that?”

Anger runs through the man’s features, and he strikes the hand that carries your phone harshly. You yelp loudly both in surprise and in pain. Your phone clatters to the ground, instantly silenced. Probably broken beyond repair.

His words are chastising and almost playful, but he is furious. “You shouldn’t talk to him anymore, (Y/N). That’s not part of our agreement.”

Then he grabs hold of you and begins dragging you out of the room. You scream loudly, kicking and punching him as much as you can as you’re moved against your will. You are a strong sorcerer, but all of your cursed energy and strength has been sapped away by this horrible disease that afflicts you. You are powerless to stop this man.

There’s one thing you were mistaken about. With the crunch your phone made as it shattered against the ground, you assumed it was completely broken. That’s only partly true: the speakers were damaged, no sound coming out, but your phone actually survived. Your microphone continued to pick up every scream and cry you made as you were dragged against your will—kidnapped. He heard every whimper of pain and every plea of yours for the man to stop! and to let you go!

Even in this state, your heart would ache if you had heard the unadulterated fear that gripped his voice as he shouted and screamed for you through his phone.

Even if you didn’t recognize the man who manhandled you out of your apartment, Gojo Satoru has no doubts about who it was. It makes his blood boil thinking about it—he’s never going to forgive him for this, even if they used to be best friends.

next part

a/n 2: Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot!! This got a bit out of my hands, I will admit…I ended up writing some details I hadn’t planned on (and a lot more lol) 😅 But I think it actually makes it more interesting!

TAGLIST: @certainduckanchor @kawaiivillainess98 @arehzhera @starrylibras @mandysfanfics @rain-and-a-nice-nap @csillana @sup-hoes-its-me @llliissuu @hawkdaddy1111 @unoriginalidea

@dcvilxswish @angel-kyo @eliz-lovesgojo @5268r @wooasecret @timetobegone @ceronnica @torusblindfold @mo0nforme @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @dasztasha

@soapysofi @qualitygiantshoepsychic

Some of these tags didn’t work, but I hope it still tags you…Lmk if I typed anything in wrong haha. 😌

[christinarowie332]

my boys .

chris and matt sturniolo x bestfriend

chris sturniolo x best friend original character

warnings : drunk character , swearing , will be a part 2 .

———

one drink .

it was supposed to be anyway.

as i sit on the toilet of a random friend of a friends house it suddenly hits me how drunk i actually am . im still , but it feels like im rocking back and forth . am i rocking back and forth?

im not too bad with my drink , as in , i won’t throw up , and i don’t really get hangovers, however my stubbornness always gets the best of me when im drinking . like now , one glass of rose with a friend turns into me on my 7th shot at someone’s house party because i believed my own tolerance was higher then it actually was .

i close my eyes and swallow the acid that tries to surface, my face contorts at the taste and a feel a surge of anxiety fill my spine . is this the night i throw up ?

i open my phone and scroll through my snapchat , random people’s story’s , some from the same party i’m at now . i’m guessing anyway , my blurred vision makes it hard to see anything , especially as i open text messages to ask someone to pick me up , and the text on my keyboard seems to shift and dance around the screen . opening mine and chris’s messages with a slight smile , i start typing . i love that boy .

chrus are you homw?

who the fuck is chrus ?

yes i am home u ok?

drink

hmm?

drunk

oh

can yoi comw pick me up plx i’m with gracee!

i hate grace

me tpo

love yoi tho

i love you too casey

are you at graces house ?

no

okay so where ??

id

id?

just send me your location, i’ll get matt to come pick you up .

but i wann see you ??

i’ll obviously come with him

cant have u puking on his seats !!!!

how tf doe u being there stop me puuilking ??

i’ll catch it with my hands 🥰😍😍

your diss gusting

i’ll slurp it like soup 😜😘

cheis stop ur gonnna makie me throw up

love you

be there iab cdawg

i giggle slightly at the conversation. full confidence in my typing skills as i send him my location and get up from the toilet . too fast . i make my way out side and sit on the porch of the house , scrolling through tiktok as i wait for the boys to come get me . i love them so much .

the cold weather makes it hard for me to scroll properly, the temperature making my fingers work in slow motion as i watch every video on my for you page extremely intensely, trying my hardest to focus on that instead of the hangziety that currently is deciding to reside in my brain . after a few minutes, i hear bass of a car approach the house and lift my head up wobbly, seeing the familiar headlights and number plate .

i smile and attempt to get up , but as i said before . it’s cold as shit . my legs fail me and i only make it half the way up before i start back right where i started . ass on the ground.

“bro”

chris’s croaky voice allows my eyes to snap away from the ground , meeting his raised eyebrows and his dumbfounded smile as he watches me gather my surroundings.

“christopher!” i say happily, getting up slight too fast and stumbling into his chest . his arms catch me around my waist and i look up to him sheepishly , seeing him allready looking at me with a shit eating grin .

“hello casey , come on let’s get you home” he says as he turns me to his side , supporting my weight against his hip and under his arm , making his way to the car .

as we reach the door he opens it and attempts to put me in the back seat . i don’t duck quite as quick and i end up bashing my head against the car doorframe.

“shit sorry!” he says before hissing through his teeth and continues to help me in the car , following my own path and sitting next to me in the back . i rub my head dramatically and slowly look to chris beside me , his smile not meeting his eyes as he looks at my hand and takes it away from my head , looking for bruising .

his one hand stays on mine as the other brushes my hair from my forehead, making sure i wasn’t hurt . my eyes stay on him . his lips curled in concentration, his eyebrows furrowed in worry . he meets my eyes and smiles . then they move down to his other hand that is still on mine in my lap . he tries to pull it away awkwardly but in drunken confidence i grab it . swinging my body around and laying on his side , putting my head on his shoulder . after a few minutes he relaxes , and i feel his curls touch my forehead as his head leans on top of mine . drawing out a sigh of relief from me .

“i feel like a fucking uber driver” matt says from the front , breaking the comfortable silence .

“you are our fucking uber driver” i reply , my eyes still closed against chris’s shoulder. i feel chris’s shoulders move as he laughs , making me smile and open my eyes .

“oh so i’m getting paid for this ?” he says looking at me through the mirror.

i stay silent

“i know your not asleep casey i can see your eyes”

i close my eyes .

————-

idk i’ll post part 2 tomorrow i just cba to do the whole thing now lmao !!!

@querenciasturniolo @ermdontmindthisaccount @recklesssturniolo @udonotknowme @iheart2021chris @its-jennarose @oversturn @plasticferal @paper-crab @parkerssecrets @strniohoeee @daddyslilchickenfingers @flowerxbunnie @kvtie2 @kenzieiskoolaid @kvtie444 @lovingmattysposts @loveesiren @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @littlebookworm803 @chrisenthusiast @carolsturns1 @bluesturniolo333 @biimpanicking @nickdevora @mattslolita @mattsbratt @mangosrar @starsessense @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[wayfayrr]

for some reason i've had another idea for a request LODGED in my damn brain ever since i wore my platforms the other week: [they are comfy to me, and the heel isn't very high, just the platform adds like- 4inches lol] someone who has tall ass shoes, and nobody notices until they take em off or something and suddenly they're shorter it sounds bad, cause why would someone be wearing platforms, but i swear i can run in em. [took some trial and error though....] also its just really goofy.

No because I'm just as stubborn with platforms the thing that gets you is stairs. I'm not entirely sure if I've mentioned it on here, but I'm a firm believer that Hylians are short. Time is seen as tall because as far as Hylians go? He is Twilight is seen as monsterously tall. Which mixes into your other ask as well - seeing as Time is fairly average height when compared to humans with Twi being tall even to humans (he grew up with humans so he adapted just a lil he's got a much higher milk tolerance sfvgf) but only Twi really knows this seeing as he grew up in ordon with humans and honestly? Means he has a reason to reach out to the reader in the first place, explaining most of the differences he noticed growing up between him and the rest of the villagers It's not the most but really at that point it's helpful to know anything. and it gets him closer to you which is what he really cares about honestly I write the chain as yandere's most of the time really, but this scenario where he's reader's best hope and they naturally get closer to him? I could see it happening really it's because he can't have a repeat of midna someone from another world stealing his heart and leaving him forever ha nope

As for platforms? that'll be fun to explain to them >:) this turned out a little bit more Twi centric than I meant for it to be but it was so fun to write and flowed so naturally !! <33 [masterlist]

“[Name]? We’re about to have breakfast, you’ll probably want to come get some before we leave the inn. Time’s saying that we’re going to be walking a lot today”

“Hm? Yeah I’m coming wild.”

His eyes looked as if they were about to fall out of his head when I opened the door. Is there something off about my appearance? I’ve just woken up I guess so maybe I just look a bit dishevelled, but after travelling with them this long? Would that really be enough to set them off like this?

“You’re shorter! Are you alright? Twi said humans are way different compared to Hylians but I didn’t assume he meant you shrink sometimes! Come on we need to go show them to know if you’re gonna be okay.”

“Wait no wild I-”

There isn’t even time for me to argue my own point with how fast they’re pulling me over to the others, his strength is impressive even for hylians I’ve been told and that isn’t something I’ll argue with. But what is he on about me ‘shrinking’? I haven’t changed height at all… He’s never seen me without my platforms. That’d do it.

“TWILIGHT! [NAME] SHRANK. IS THAT SOMETHING HUMANS CAN DO? ARE THEY GOING TO BE ALRIGHT?”

“Wild really I’m going to be fine. If you’ll just let me explai-”

“YOU CAN SHRINK? Why didn’t you tell us [name]?”

Now winds come over - great. I’ll have to count on Twi’s glare being enough to give me time to speak. 

“Wild what are you on about humans can’t - oh. You did shrink. How did that happen?”

Bingo. Now I can hopefully clear this mess up somewhat.

“I didn’t shrink. I’m just not wearing my platforms. They add to my height when I wear them, I didn’t realise this was the first time Wild’s seen me without them. Their worry was pretty cute though.”

“So you didn’t shrink..? Can I try them on?”

“Nah wind, not only are they my only pair of shoes but I think you’d break your neck if you tried to walk in them.”

He really does look kind of like a cat when he pouts, you’d assume he’s just had a lemon slice shoved in his mouth rather than being told no for his own safety. It’s nice to see that despite having to become a hero at such a young age he still acts his age.

“Then how do you wear them? You’ve been walking them for so long without issue?”

“They’re your only shoes?”

“Yeah they are Twi, there’s no issue either wild. They’re comfortable to wear and I’m used to them anyway”

Twi looks as if he’s gearing up for a lecture if the look on his face is anything to go by, the very same one that’s a warning for wild when he’s done something questionable. A short sigh, a shake of his head and it quickly softens up into some sort of lovestruck expression.

“Darlin’ It isn’t that that I’m worried ‘bout. It’s not a good idea to only be travelling with a single pair, what if they get damaged or lost? I’ve got a spare set that should fit you, you can have them.”

“You don’t have to go that for me twi, I’m sure theres somewhere here I could just buy a pair.”

“It really ain’t an issue. It’ll save you breaking in a new pair so it’s for the best really.”

There’s more to what he’s saying I can feel it, but I can’t bring it up around the others like this so answers will have to wait. 

“You don’t wanna eat while you’re, only wearing a pair of socks you? Let’s go and get them for you quickly.”

His hand is so much softer than Wild’s and his touch is more tender and is that? Oh, he’s blushing, there really is something more to this isn’t there; does he like me or something? The walk to his room in the inn isn’t long, shorter than the one to my own. 

“Give me a second darlin’ and I’ll get you them.”

 “Of course, I’m not gonna get mad at you for taking too long to get me a gift. Seriously though, thanks for this link.”

If I thought he was red before he’s downright glowing now, his face from the tips of his ears to the lowest part of his neck that I can see have gone crimson red. Matching how his rummaging through his bag has gotten ever so more frantic, his patience for finding the said boots for me gone like ashes in the wind. Then before I know it a pair of leather boots are being thrust into my arms by someone who can only really be described as a blushy mess at the moment. It’s cute. He’s cute.

“They’re wonderful thank you again Twi, really.”

“You can ah - You can call me link when we’re alone together like this darlin’.”

“If you want me to then link. I’ll just put these on then we can go join the others, hopefully, they’ve saved us some food.”

These are so soft, are they lined with something? They have to be right? It feels like some kind of fur, they should be nice to walk in so I can save my platforms some wear. It makes a lot of sense to try to keep my belongings from home safe, just to have some memories to look back on. 

“Hey link, mind me asking what they’re lined with?”

“Wolf fur darlin’”

“Is it your fur?”

How is it possible he’s gotten even more red? Answers my question though. Why would he give me something lined with his own fur?

“I - That doesn’t bother you does it?”

[sewinrat]

If you were one of Luther's Cat:

Obviously you're not a normal cat. No gender mentioned dw;

While Nyon has those floppy cat ears and Nyen has like a cat hat, you have a beret with cat ears. Do with that information as you will, but either way no one knows if it can come off.

You eat poison once. It was an accident. Trouble likes to linger around you but they can get worse as years went by.

You were the middle cat. What I meant by that is, both in role and personality. You were not as mean as Nyen can be but you were also not as nice as Nyon is.(Unless of course you have a different opinion.) Remember the tier list they had in Vol 1. Lucid 5? Yea, you're placed either in Dime, Ace or something else like Hearts/Diamonds but never higher than that in tier 4. Close to Tier 3 actually but Nyen can be petty.

Danger Level: MODERATE

You are often found around the kitchen or the living room. Any other parts of the house you might be seen is because you have to go there under an order or for other reason. Once, Sebastian found you somewhere in a hallway sitting on the floor terrifyingly staring at the wall.

Unlike Nyen, when it comes to vacuums, you're one of those that chill on it. Just pop hide your limbs, be a bun and sit on top of it. If this ever happens, Nyen usually respects you more than he does when you're off it. It doesn't last long tho.

Of course since you're Luther's cat, you are loyal to him. It's inevitable especially in the ivory house. Luther's house. Maybe when you were a regular human, you would've accidentally met him in Michigan. You lost everything before so why must you worry about your human life when you can be a cat while gaining inhuman traits from Luther. Don't mind whatever happens within the house, you can do anything under his permission.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You;

Randal: "Yeahh I don't care much about them.. However they're my favourite out of big brother's cats! They're willing to play with me unlike the other two! It's fun since Sebastian don't play my games. I would call them my friend if it weren't for the fact that they're big brother's... And also the fact they can act like him." In short, he would see you as his friend but non friend.

Sebastian: "O-oh.. Who are you? Uh uhm.. okay? I guess they're fine. They're not as crazy as that other one.. but they still make me uncomfortable.. especially when they stare at the wall for no reason. I just hope they won't try to kill me.." He's afraid but he's fine. He can tolerate.

Nyen: "Oh them? I guess they're okay. They're boring to me but they are terrifying when they're on the damn vacuum. *shivers* eugh.. thinking about it makes me sick. Don't tell them that or else I would have to suffer their smug smile for a while." He doesn't care much. Don't try to snitch on him.

Nyon: "... They're okay." He's too quiet on the matter but don't worry, he likes you. You're not mean as Nyen. If anything, you also amuse him randomly. Especially when he saw you intimidating Nyen one time.

Luther: "Ah yes, one of my lovely cats. Out of the other two, as a kitten, they act so good. Better than the two. However, I love them all equally. As they grew older, it seems that trouble stirs around them more but it's fine. It's not as troublesome as some of the things Randal puts himself into. Now, while you are here, come have tea or please leave." His opinion has not changed. He loves you just as much as he loves his family.

Bonus! Ratman Robert: "How the hell did you get here? Whatever, you don't look like one of them. The middle cat? No comment. I don't know if I should be afraid that they seem to be plotting something or grateful they don't attack us when they see us. I would like it better if they don't stare at the wall. It's uncomfortable to feel their eyes on me." He's scared. But he would offer you food that he has as peace offering one day. Don't eat him.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Bam 💥

How would the boys feel if their listeners got/have tattoos?(cuz my silly clowns have tattoos—)

Tattoos

Alphonse

He wants to know all the meanings behind them! He thinks they look really cool, lowkey making him want to get more.

If he's able to he wants to help you pick out the next tattoo your gonna get! (A candy for him bc why not?)

If you got a tattoo he's gonna help you clean it and make sure it doesn't get infected.

Seth

Loves staring at them and tracing them after a long day. Will remember every meaning behind them.

I can see him wanting to get a tattoo too bc the one u got look cool and now he wants one-

Makes sure to get the stuff you need for the tattoo.

Charlie

I can see him liking the silliest tattoo you got and has even named it.

He'll try and guess the meanings of the tattoos with the most craziest story. Like "You got his after winning a bar fight huh?"

If you get a tattoo he might know a person off of Pete and see if they're reliable.

Finn

In really curious of them! He feels like of he got one he's ruined it (bc of how clumsy he is) or get infected bc he garden's.

Will listen to every story and meanings! If you have flower ones he'll gush about them.

If you do get a tattoo he'd try and help you thinking of what to get. Mostly flowers and if you get one in honor of him he'd turn bright red.

Faust

I think he'd have a tattoo for a Anime or Otome game he REALLY loves. So he'd asked you if you have hand too.

Loves how the inky looks on your skin and makes sure you moisturize it correctly.

If you do go and get a tattoo he's making sure it's the most reliable place bc he doesn't want you to get a fucked tattoo.

Auron

After the new ep he'd love to trace it when your asleep. Wants to memorize all the tattoos on you, might even write about them too.

If you have a tramp stamp be warned he's touching it when he can.

I can see him having sleeves or as I multiplexed about a tramp stamp. He's making sure the place you go to isn't sketchy and doing background checks on them.

Lucien

Angel why is there doodles on your body? Was confused at first but then as like oh its like markings! Okay cool.

Might say fuck it and get all tatted up bc he has a higher pain tolerance than mortals. Loves poking them and tracing with a claw.

If you go and get one he's coming w you to make sure nobody tries to rip you off. Or fuck up your tattoo.

Jack

Complements the tattoo artist handy work bc he worked under one before! He makes sure you treat them right also.

If you have those ones where it doesn't have color he'll color them. With like markers bc its silly.

If you go and get one he knows a shop where a friend works at so he can get you a discount for a new tattoo!

[sebwritesstories]

SALLY STARLET NAME-GIVING OBSERVATIONS

Okay, this is just a small theory, but I've noticed how Sally interacts with her fellow neighbors, and I have guesses on how she addresses them, and whether that shows her respect for them (which may change as the Welcome Home timeline becomes clearer to navigate).

To do so, I will list the characters based on whether they are the most or least respected, to make the tier list clear.

SALLY STARLET🌈⭐️: Mainly tiering her first for the ENORMOUS amount of self-respect she has. From that, we can see that she isn't one to lengthen, fancify, or change her moniker in any sort of way or form. She is, of course, Sally Starlet! The kind of pride and integrity that she has for herself is one of her more redeemable qualities, at least in my opinion.

POPPY PARTRIDGE🥧🧶: Sally's home-bodied galpal may be second on the list, but she is the only other neighbor that she constantly calls by her own name. Not to mention the fact that Poppy is the only neighbor that Sally will constantly praise for her talents, try to break out of her isolating lifestyle, and admit her mistakes and goof-ups to (which is something Sally has too much pride to do with any other neighbor)! From that, I can safely say that Sally holds Poppy in the highest regard (maybe even higher than platonically expected, we shall see), which shows through the lack of name fancification.

BARNABY B. BEAGLE🌭🎉: I am mainly putting Barnaby here for now, as he is the only other neighbor yet to be called a fancy moniker, but tends to get Sally riled up for the sake of it. It has often been stated how segments with Sally's plays will often be changed in some silly shape or form, mainly by Barnaby wanting to mess with her (similar to the Fractured Fairytales segment from Rocky and Bullwinkle). She could respect him as a fellow lover of theater and show-biz (as they play around a bit, like in Eddie's Big Lift), but I will hold off on speculations until the update next week.

JULIE JOYFUL💐🎳: This colorful character will be called both "Juliet" and her own name when Sally is exasperated with her. From their interactions, Sally seems to be patient enough around Julie and will be tolerant of the changes to stories and plays that she comes up with.

WALLY DARLING🎨🍎: Our gracious host will be called "Walliford" or his own name for similar reasons. Like any other neighbor, Sally has a fondness for Wally, despite his lack in acting skills, and will ask him for help with prop creation and directing assistance.

HOWDY PILLAR🐛🍓: The neighborhood grocer has only been called "Howardson". Sally seems to have no ill will toward Howdy, and will often call upon him for plays due to his acting skills (which unfortunately lead to advertising his store). Sally seemed to a jab at Howdy from time to time, but can easily be swayed by his scam tactics.

HOME🏡🥞: Has only been called by her own name, and we have yet to see any direct interactions between them and Sally.

FRANK FRANKLY🦋🍮: I have only heard Sally call Frank "Fred" while introducing him, so take that as you will (at least until there is a clearer timeline).

EDDIE DEAR✉️🥖: Poor, poor Eddie. He doesn't even get the privilege of being called a proper name. Sally will often refer to Mr. Dear as the "mailman", and will expect him to wait on her like a servant. To be clear, she isn't the only one to overwork or demean him because nearly every neighbor does so (with the exceptions of Wally, Poppy, and maybe Frank). But at least most neighbors have the decency to call Eddie by his name in any form (though this may show my bias, cause I kin Eddie in many respects).

Anywho, thats all I have to say for Sally, till the update! This is mainly just a drabble of sorts, but feel free to say your piece! Constructively, of course.

[unmanageable-day]

Time with you

inspo : Kyuhyun - Time with you

pairing: best friend!Scoups x female reader

genre: angsty almost friends to lovers, unrequited love aka friendzoned :(

word count: 2k-ish

warning(s): drinking alcohol (and maybe none other than that)

a/n: not really grammatically checked. i’m just emptying my drafts lmao this has been in my draft for a very long time. would greatly appreciate your feedback and thoughts! :-) also, the gif credit to the rightful owner (@ scoupsy)

It was another night when you and your best friend, Choi Seungcheol drank your lives away while going through the so-called quarter-life crisis. You with the story of ‘almost’ for the nth time. Almost getting promotion in your job, almost dating with guy A, almost being match-made with guy B, almost picking up a fight with a coworker (which means almost losing your job), and the most recent ‘almost’ was you almost getting back together with an ex who you didn’t like that much. Seungcheol and his much higher alcohol tolerance had drank more bottles than you. He just broke up after five years of relationship, and he couldn’t even cry his eyes out. Not to mention, he just lost a sponsorship for his new project. Isn’t it a perfect night for these best friends to abuse their livers?

“I say let’s just get married if by 30 years old we don’t have a significant other,” he said, his eyes were looking anywhere but you.

You chuckled. “You’re drunk, honey.” He didn’t sound serious or sincere to you, at least now after he sipped three shots in a row.

Both of you were turning 26. Old enough to get married, some people would say. You never gave it a deep thought, especially since most of your friends hadn’t gotten married either. They were either too enjoying their lives, too busy with their jobs, not wanting to be in a committed relationship yet, or they just want to go solo. Let’s be honest, having that one person to spend with for the rest of your life doesn’t always mean a happily ever after ending. On the other hand, you know being married and raising a small family with children is one of Choi Seungcheol’s dreams. You would absolutely be happy for him if it came true any sooner.

He chuckled while pouring beer and soju mix. “I know, but I think I’m sober enough to discuss this thing. What do you say?”

“Even if I agree and say yes right now, you will probably not remember anything tomorrow.”

“Hey, I said I’m sober enough,“ he scoffed as he raised his glass. “Y/N let me tell you, I might look unserious like this, but you have no idea I have tons of husband material.”

“Well, okay I guess, if you want to be my husband that much..” you shrugged, still laughing lightly at the nonsense you two were having that night. And finally Seungcheol knocked himself out that you had to call Jeonghan and Mingyu to pick him up.

The next day, Seungcheol insisted he did remember almost everything he said last night. You still didn’t think of it seriously, so you just responded with a quick ‘yeah’, ‘right’, and ‘okay’. Meanwhile he wanted to have proper documentation about your “agreement”. As you thought it was ridiculous, you just gave him a pinky swear and you excused yourself to go to a company dinner.

---

27th birthday

There was nothing special. Both you and your dear friend were single, and in fact, enjoyed going solo. Your circle of friends tried again to make you go to blind dates. You did, just for a little appreciation to your friends, although you knew it’s just not going to happen. Same thing with Seungcheol’s friend who always offered him to introduce some juniors from their college or school. This time, Seungcheol always refused. Not ready to build rapport and start a new relationship would be his number one excuse, which would always be understood by others.

28th birthday

Your friends started to cheer that you and Seungcheol should end your friendship and begin a real romantic relationship because you two were always seen together.

“Are you nuts?” You chuckled and pretended to give a disgusted expression to him.

“Don’t come to me when it’s apocalypse and I’m the only man left,” he hissed.

29th birthday --- Seungcheol’s POV

Lately I had been feeling anxious and I can’t comprehend what was wrong. But isn’t it normal for people to be anxious when they’re about to end their 20s? Or is it just me who had been denial about this real, like real, adulting phase?

Without realizing it, I often found myself imagining what the future would be like if it is with you; what would it be like to spend the rest of my life with you. I remember the times we walked together. Well, many times. But when did you become such a precious person to me?

The picture of us being together for a lifetime was getting clearer. Somehow I became so sure about it. That’s when I know, I want to live as your significant other. I want to live with you who never stop nagging but I won’t complain. Even when you’re a worse picky-eater than me, more suck at doing house chores and cooking, disorganized, and sometimes talk in your sleep, but I think I can live with that.

I had never so anxious and thrilled at the same time on my birthday in the past 3 years. I didn’t know why I had to wait until it was our 30th birthday.

A few days to 30th birthday

Seungcheol had been walking around back and forth in his studio for minutes. Once in a while, he looked at the calendar and a ring with flower diamond accent sitting on a personalized leather ring box he put on his desk. He just turned 30 last month and Jeonghan, without being asked, held a birthday party for him. This month you would be turning 30 and he already marked it in his calendar with a lot of drawing.

It was counting days until your birthday. As far as he could remember, not even once you or anybody else had said a word about you seeing someone. He was certain of it. This is it.

He quickly went through a list of restaurants to make a reservation on that Friday night. Let’s not go overboard, he thought to himself as he passed some fine dining restaurants from the list. His final choice was a new sushi restaurant. Okay, it’s not anything fancy, he reassured himself. He didn’t want to make it obvious although he couldn’t hide his excitement and his racing heart.

Just as the sun had set, Seungcheol dialed your number. Unusually, you picked up in less than five seconds.

“Y/n, hi! I’ve got something to tell you!”

“Me too!”

“Great! Let’s meet up?”

After hanging up the phone call, with his dreamy eyes, Seungcheol stared at the ring he chose carefully. Right, I’m gonna do it today! In front of a big mirror, he spent a good amount of time just to pick an outfit that he usually wears.

He arrived first at the restaurant and took his time to practice breathing slowly. As soon as he received your text that you were coming soon, he became restless. The lines he had been practicing in his head now started to blur. Please don't ruin it, he begged to himself.

“Hey. You sound very excited on the phone. Did something good happen?” Trying to manage his cool, he welcomed you and poured a glass of water.

Smiling ear to ear, you nodded vigorously. Seungcheol softly smiled looking at you.

Without words, you lifted your hand, exposing the back of your hand, all your fingers lightly wriggling. For a second, Seungcheol didn’t notice what you were trying to say. Until he remembered that you didn’t like to wear accessories and jewelry with too much accents standing out, including a diamond or even gemstone with bright colors. Yet a silver ring with a cat’s eye gemstone now was stuck prettily around your left ring finger.

Seungcheol forced an innocent smile at you. He shook his head a few times, pretending not to understand anything. Deep down inside, he wished it was not what he was thinking. He wished it was just another piece of jewelry you bought for yourself.

“I’m getting married! Jisoo proposed to me last night!” you squealed as quietly as possible.

“Jisoo.. which Jisoo?” he asked weakly after clearing his throat several times.

“It’s Hong Jisoo! You didn't forget him already, did you?” Your eyes widened and blinked twice. “It’s Jeonghan’s friend. He even came to your birthday party. You even hung out together, the three of you.”

He groggily faked a laugh. “Oh, we did?” He stole a glance at you who were staring lovingly at the new ring. “... am I too late?” he whispered to himself, his hand clenching the suede box hidden in his pocket.

“Hm? What is it that’s too late?” you asked, completely oblivious.

A fake cough slipped out of his mouth. He wore his famous sulky expression. “No, I mean... isn’t it too late that you just told me now? You should have called me last night.” Seungcheol knew sulking was one of his famous traits. And this time, it helped so much to hide his true feelings.

“Wait. But… how did you… since when did you and he…” Seungcheol found himself unable to finish his sentence. It’s not like he really wanted to know or anything. He was too dumbfounded to figure out that after all this time, it was only him who had been thinking about the future of you both. Apparently it was just a one-sided excitement that only he felt.

“Sorry,” you muttered slowly. “You must have thought that this doesn’t make any sense.” You tried to read his expression. Seeing him gulping his water, you did the same before telling your story.

You carefully told him that it started last year, specifically on the new years’ eve when Jeonghan held a party in his house. Seungcheol was there too. What he didn’t know was that you and Jisoo spent some time together after losing a game, which led to going to a convenience mart just to buy candies because Jeonghan suddenly wanted it. You found him very easy going despite his serious and quiet look. Not to mention when he lost it in games with Jeonghan, he became somebody else–and you liked it. He didn’t seem pretentious. He was even never trying hard to look good despite he had that gentleman image. It was interesting to see such different personalities in one person.

You didn’t want to think about him seriously as a romantic relationship was not your priority that time. Jisoo probably thought alike, since he never really made a bold move. Yet you two would always find time, or rather time (and Jeonghan) was in favor of getting you together. Nonetheless, both of you still never declared anything. It started like a situationship, you would say.

Until one day, he wanted to make sure that you both shared the same feelings. Since then, Jisoo and you started to discuss your plan for the future. But again, your relationship hadn’t gone public.

“We didn’t tell anyone until we were sure of ourselves and our plans,” you concluded. “I’m really sorry, Seungcheol. I never meant to keep a secret from you, especially when it comes to something big like this.”

Another forced smile was curved on Seungcheol’s lips. “It’s okay. I understand,” he said, trying as hard as he could so his voice wasn’t trembling. “I’m happy for you, Y/n.”

You wore a big smile and looked relieved. “Thank you. Sincerely, Seungcheol, thank you.”

He flashed a smile before pretending to be busy looking at the menu. “Since today is a happy day, we should celebrate it,” he cheered.

“You’re right. It’s on me.”

In the end, he let you choose all the dishes from appetizer until desserts. It was difficult for him to stay focused. The ring in his pocket felt as heavy as his heart, but he knew he shouldn’t show it to you. He didn’t want to ruin the precious friendship you’d had for only God knows. He didn’t want to be remembered as someone petty who couldn’t support his best friend’s choice. He didn’t want you to hate him, and possibly leave him if he started to act out crazy.

[ghostofskywalker]

Filed Under: Incident Reports

Words: 1,106

Summary: managing a bar was never easy, but you tried your best to keep things running smoothly, even if sometimes you had to make hard decisions

or alternatively: a collection of 79’s most hilariously infamous incident reports, some which made you ponder a career change.

@clonexreaderbingo square: 79's

ao3 link || clone troopers masterlist

Note: this fic is a sister story to one of my favorite fics i've ever written, filed under: payroll complaints. I loved the idea of doing a "filed under" collection of unconventional reader fics, so i wrote this :) and of course this is dedicated to my friend @captainsophiestark, who is one of the best people i've met on here and who i think loves the first one as much as i do :)

“Hey boss!” The sound of someone talking to you caught your attention as you checked off items on the inventory list you were taking. “Can I talk to you?”

The nervous expression on Kalina’s face was not one you were accustomed to seeing, so your face immediately shifted. She was your newest employee, and you hoped everything was alright. “Is everything okay?” 

“I had to file an incident report last night after you left,” she said, looking down at the floor, as if she was expecting you to launch into a tirade and fire her. 

Instead, you burst out into laughter, and she looked up at you, confusion present in her eyes. “Was it a good one?” you asked once you had pulled yourself back together. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“The incident report,” you said. “Do you think it would make the Hall of Fame?” 

Clearly, the other employees had not filled her in on this very important part of working at this particular establishment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered. 

You reached out to gently pat her shoulder. “In this place, incident reports are a dime a dozen,” you said. “So we take the funniest ones and file them separately. Come on,” you said, heading behind the bar in the direction of your office. “I’ll show you.” 

The file folder was exactly where it always was, and Kalina handed you the one she had filled out last night as you laid the various pieces of flimsi across your desk. “What battalion were the clones from last night part of?” you asked.

“The 501st I think.” 

“Oh don’t worry, I think at this point we have enough for a whole file on them.” 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #7103

Time of Disruption: 23:41

Damage Sustained: Three bottles of Corellian Whiskey, Minor scrapes from scattered glass

Description of Incident: A Jedi General accompanying his troops to the bar for the evening attempted to utilize the Force to have their drinks refilled without having to get up or alert any of the employees. Startled (by his own drunken hiccup, according to witnesses) as the bottles were crossing the room, it turns out the use of any kind of Jedi tricks requires intense concentration or objects will crash to the ground. 

Statement From Parties Involved: [Trooper with “5” tattooed on his forehead] “Wow. We thought he would have had a higher alcohol tolerance than that.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #7476

Time of Disruption: 19:28

Damage Sustained: One drink transport droid, three bottles various liquor, two employee uniforms

Description of Incident: On the way back from the refresher, a drink transport droid startled a commander with orange-yellow armor, and he subsequently roundhouse kicked the droid’s head clean off, where it landed behind the bar and startled employees as they mixed drinks. 

Statement From Parties Involved: profuse apologies from the commander, while his troopers (who were privy to the entire event) laughed with glee. 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #7729

Time of Disruption: 21:09

Damage Sustained: Minor injuries (from faceplant)

Description of Incident: Trooper with goggles did not accurately guess his alcohol tolerance, and immediately falls face-first onto the floor after stepping down from a stool at the bar, going unconscious momentarily. Thankfully, his squad was nearby and was able to help him out of the establishment.

Statement From Parties Involved: [Trooper with skeleton face tattoo, as his goggled brother is still reciting random facts about hyperspace engines] “We’re sorry. He isn’t usually like this.”

[Silver-haired trooper] “Don’t listen to Hunter. He may not usually drink this much, but this behavior is very much normal.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #7999

Time of Disruption: 20:42

Damage Sustained: Emotional (embarrassment) 

Description of Incident: Frantic troopers in blue armor approached the bar and informed staff that their commanding officer had accompanied them this evening and was now apparently missing. After imploring that the music was stopped and an announcement was made, the CO was eventually located (and understandably embarrassed) drinking with commanders of other battalions in a booth not directly in the eye line of their troopers. Atmosphere returns to business as usual within 10 minutes. 

Statement From Parties Involved: [Trooper with Republic symbol tattooed on his forehead] “We couldn’t find Rex and were worried he’d been kidnapped.” 

[Trooper with medic symbol on his shoulder, tiredly] “In a bar filled with clones?” 

[Republic Symbol] “You never know!” 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #8954

Time of Disruption: 21:42

Damage Sustained: Four bottles of various liquor, minor shock and dropped drinks, sadness (intruder was whisked away before employees were able to pet it)

Description of Incident: Upon apparent escape from leash, a massif burst through the door and ran in circles around the bar, knocking over several drink transport droids and one startled employee. It also started to approach groups of troopers, barking and jumping on them to demand affection. A tired-looking member of the Coruscant Guard eventually ran in and was able to carry their little escape artist back to headquarters.

Statement From Parties Involved: [massif, in a friendly manner] “bark!” 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #8533

Time of Disruption: 02:37

Damage Sustained: Employee’s Innocence

Description of Incident: Trooper with teal accents on his armor spotted getting particularly personal with his date for the evening due to the secluded location of his table and the absence of the rest of his squad. In the future, employees should make sure they find some way to announce their presence when informing customers that the bar will be closing in less than half an hour. 

Statement From Parties Involved:  [To Employee, not the least bit embarrassed]: “Sorry, I didn’t hear you there.” 

[To Date]: “You wanna get out of here?” 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #9148

Employee Attending: Kalina Zainne

Time of Disruption: 21:59

Damage Sustained: Loss of Refresher facilities for several hours, Scorch marks on several tables

Description of Incident: Due to a drinking game (of which the exact rules are unknown), small bomb-like devices were built and accidentally detonated both at the table the group was sitting at and in the men’s refresher. When the fire on the table started to get out of control, the only liquid at the table (which happened to be whiskey) was dumped on the device, subsequently making the situation worse. The building’s sprinkler systems were activated and did put out the fire, but showered all patrons with cold water.

Statement From Parties Involved: [Trooper with Republic symbol tattooed on forehead] “Rex is going to kill us.”

Yeah, this was definitely joining the ranks in the Hall of Fame.

- the end -

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divider credit to djarrex

[faustiandevil]

Depression makes a man do stupid things and here is what I did. Peter Lorre tier list, all movies (well the ones that were available online and in a language I could understand), all characters ranked in a highly scientific way. Feel free to defend your blorbos, but know this I’m right, you’re wrong, SHUDDUP!! (This is a reference I hope y’all get, but in any case do feel free to defend your blorbos I wanna hear y’alls takes.)

My reasonings under the cut. Enter, but be warned it truly is my twisted sick mind down there. If you scroll down long enough to see the Shining reference, I love you.

Bildreporter Johnny (F.P.1 antwortet nicht): No, no, no, no, no, no! Highly unfuckable look! Why does he look like an old man and a baby at the same time??? I can’t do this!!

Mr. Kentaro Moto (Mr. Moto Series): Racism. I’m sorry, I can’t. Absolutely hate it. Shit tier. Same goes with the movies. I only really liked Mr. Moto’s Gamble, which I found out was actually a Charlie Chan script asdfghjkl

Stephen Danel (Island of Doomed Men): Slave owner. Killed a monkey. Was kind of okay with his wife tho, until the end, I guess they needed a reason to off him.

Roderick Raskolnikov (Crime and Punishment): I’m putting him down on the list, because I read Crime and Punishment and the movie is way too ‘Murican. Already the names were bastardized and as someone who loves Russian literature I just can’t deal with that shit. He was okay, but ehhh… (The 1970 movie is way better, and Taratorkin is the best Rashkolnikov, fucking fight me.)

Nikolai Zaleshoff (Background to Danger): Again, butchering Russian names. Not even a patronymic. Kind of a caricature as well with all of the vodka drinking. And again he gets shot and for what??

Sergeant Berger (The Cross of Lorraine): I’m stronger. I will resist. The scene where he blows the cigarette smoke into the guy’s face and kicks him does things to me. I will admit. But that man is a nazi and I cannot in good consciousness put him anywhere else, but shit tier.

Captain Chang (They Met in Bombay): Glark Cable tolerable?? In my movie?? More likely than you think. Did not like the racism again. The beard is nice, so he goes slightly higher than shit tier.

Baron Ikito (Invisible Agent): He gets put in a slightly higher tier than shit tier only, because of the last line in the movie that made me very very gay. “I can make an honorable man out of you” like you can’t make him say shit like that I’m already a weak little homosexual!!

Hilary Cummins (The Beast With Five Fingers): This may be a surprise, but listen, hear me out, I have reasons. I cannot deal with an Astrology bitch. Like, yeah I also like to read my horrorscope every now and then, and I’m a Satanist, but I don’t vibe with that shit, he is too obsessed. Not every gay is gonna be into Asstrology. Also I cannot moan the name Hilary while giving this man dick without thinking of the Clinton woman. Also Cummins??? That’s an OnlyEnemies name. PS. The movie was bad when the hand turned out to be fake.

Julius O’Hara (Beat The Devil): Oh, no I’m not vibing with the hair again. I’m not into it. Loved his bullshitting, even if he is not very good at lying.

Conseil (20,000 Leagues Under the Sea): Liked seeing him together with my rich successful uncle Lukács, and had some nice fits in the movie, but it’s only slightly above shit tier. Saw tentacles, but got nothing. Absolutely disappointed.

Ahmed (Five Weeks in a Balloon): Racism again. Love his rainbow colored pants. The fez does nothing for me. Because of the earring he gets put higher than shit tier.

Pawlitschek (Bomben Auf Monte Carlo): He’s cute. He knows how to cook. Its fucking goulash of course, but ugggh fine I’ll eat it. Look I love you I’ll eat it. Fucking tourist food that no self-respecting Hungarian is going to touch. It’s just fucking soup.

Otto Fuesslli (What Women Dream Of): He is adorable. Clearly faking that piano play, but he sings like an angle. Docking points for being a cop tho. I’m sorry, but in this house we ain’t fucking cops.

Maj. Sigfried Gruning (Lancer Spy): Okay, I’m conflicted. Not sold on the hair, or the mustache, but I’m a military man, I love a uniform, he has a sword. (Babygirl you wanna see my sword~?) Uhhh… he also doesn’t do much in the movie.

Louis ‘The Dope’ Monteau (I’ll Give a Million): Adowable. A dumb baby. And that is why he only gets put in mid tier. Too cute for my taste. Still good for him and all the other poor homeless guys for pulling off the scam of the century on the rich bastards. Respect.

Polo (I Was An Adventuress): Same problem with Louis. He has too much boi energy. Every time I see that image where he looks up with them big ol’ eyes all I can think about is that meme the “Bitch use your words I don’t speak bottom”.

The Stranger (The Stranger on The Third Floor): Okay… uhm… this is a though one… There’s not much info on The Stranger, we don’t even know his name, we only know that he is mentally ill and killed a man. We all have our faults. I mean in this day and age who isn’t mentally ill and killed at least one person. So… mid tier. Like his scarf tho.

Paul Hyde (Mr. District Attorney): The way he got shot was bullshit. What the fuck was that about?? I hardly even remember this movie.

Joel Cairo (The Maltese Falcon): Okay… I gotta confess… I fucking hate the Maltese Falcon. There I said it. It just rubs me the wrong way that in book context and Hays code movie context Joel is gay and gets beaten up the most. Like finally a highly canon gay one for me and I get this home of phobia. Fuck this. Also I do not like Bogart and I think this movie started it lol.

Pepi (All Through the Night): I’mma get shit for this. But… but… hear me out… sometimes a man thinks with his dick and not with his brain. This is one of them. When he shows up at the bar, dressed up all nice, smoking his little cigarette… I’m weak. And yes I know he is a nazi, but I could fix him. I could fuck the fascism out of him. If not… well… //cocks gun// Mid tier, because I can’t put him higher than that. If not for the fascism he would be A tier.

Jan Bernazsky (The Conspirators): I remember nothing from this movie. I think he was a red herring. He goes in mid.

Slimane (Casbah): Casablanca the musical. Getting very gay vibes from Slimane. Why are you a detective? To catch other men. To hold them close after you shoot them. Wow faggy. Anyway, a bit conflicted and had to dock points, because again cop.

Toady (Rope of Sand): I only watched this movie, because Claude Rains is the same height as me and I was hoping to see them stand next to each other, so I can visualize the height difference. Got a very nice homosexual cig lit scene from it. I have no recollection of the movie besides that scene, but he looks fine.

Japanese Steward on the S.S. Carnatic (Around the World in Eighty Days): I can’t fuck a man on a boat I’ll get sea sick.

Kurt Bergner (The Buster Keaton Story): Were you channeling some other asshole director from your life? You looked like you knew what you were doing? Anyway, would fuck just so I could get my start in the movie industry, but this relationship ain’t gonna last longer than a headline.

Brankov (Silk Stockings): Glorious Technicolor~ I have issues with this movie. It’s the inferior Ninotchka. The Russian names are once again butchered. The dancing is nice. Go white boy, fuck up the dance floor!! Nothing else to say about it really.

Abdul (The Sad Sack): Mon petite~! If I justified Pepi being in mid-tier, I can do the same for Abdul. He was eager to kill Jerry Lewis’ character and I think the movie would have benefited from it. Still he can’t go higher, because of the… ehh… Hollywood racism. He would be top fucking tier otherwise.

Skeeter (The Big Circus): Not into clowns. (A contradictory statement. If you know you know.)

Montresor (Tales of Terror): I’m in a predicament, because I’m a cat lover and this man was mean to a cat. He is very hot tho. Sorry, babes, but you gotta go into the mid rankings. Also fix your alcohol problem, I cannot let Freud win.

Hans Beckert (M): Okay, this is going to be controversial putting the child murderer so high up on the list, but consider this. He is so pathetic when he gets thrown down the stairs that I just can’t not fuck him. I’m also willing to look past that besides murder he also probably did other things too (yeah that’s a bit harder to get past eugh…). The murder I’m fine with tho. I’m very often locked in a train car with screaming children and I mean that would make anyone start whistling the tune of Edvard Grieg’s In the Hall of the Mountain King. My dick could fix him, but if he wants to murder a child every now and then. I’m all for it.

Redakteur Stix (Die Koffer des Herrn O.F.): This man fucks. And I do mean HE fucks. Polo and Louis wish they were like Stix. He goes into A tier for terrorizing a whole town, getting laid, and getting the girl. Would you like to get the boy as well, hun~?

The General (Secret Agent): This look is absolute horrid… I fucking love it. For someone who is known to be a mustache lover I don’t ever want to see Peter with one. (I’m the one who wears the mustaches in this relationship.) This is an exception tho. It’s a gay disaster look. It’s so bad it’s hot. Extra points for the earring. (The ending to that movie was absolute bullshit tho. General your gun!!)

Prof. Sturm (Nancy Steele Is Missing!): I love it when he is a manipulative little bastard. Also he could have gotten away with it if it weren’t for someone having morals and loving his stolen adoptive child. Absolutely disgusting. The mustache and the glasses combo are acceptable (even if he looks like one of my high school teachers).

M’sieu Pig (Strange Cargo): The other incel. I’m docking points, because for most of the movie I had to watch Clark Gable be a misogynist and I already hate him. All this just to eyeball Peter Lorre… Anyway I would make that piggy squeal. A tier, but only because he shows off a bit of chest hair.

Fenninger (You’ll Find Out): Not particularly fond of this look. I like it better when his hair is a bit messy. Is one third of an evil gay polycule, so points to that. And also the long cig holder. Very gay, hun. And who can forget the og teeth. Would still drag my tongue across those chompers I don’t care what anyone says. (Mainly, because I also have similar fucked up looking messy teeth.)

Signor Ugarte (Casablanca): I’m putting him only in A tier, because he killed nazis at the start of the movie and is a desperate little homo, which is a trait I very much relate to. But Bogart… really… honey you could do so much better. Seriously y’all look me in the eye and tell me that Bogart is hot, when he plays these asshole characters. I’ll wait. Besides I’m right here. I’m ready to top you babe.

Marius (Passage To Marseilles): Love a man who is honest and proud of his professional achievements. And is very much good with his hands hello~ Dies (seriously why???) while fighting nazis. A bit of a scraggly look, but I love it. I also had to look up pics for this and turtlenecks make any man look slutty… and sir… your tits!! I need to feel them through the fabric~ Or just in general~

Dr. Einstein (Arsenic and Old Lace): He is a cute pathetic little meow meow. I want to (the following sentence had to be censored due to violating the Hays code). I am putting him only in A tier, because he is too popular, but I feel like that’s a personal bias.

Johannes Koenig (Hotel Berlin): Again a nice scraggly look. I love it~ He does get his shit together by the end and that’s good, but I wish he’d kept the five o’clock.

Contreras (Confidential Agent): I love a man who hates his job. So relatable. He does a big no no with being a sellout to the fascists, but he gets his just desserts and surprising doesn’t die from a gun, but a heart attack (and they pull a Weekend at Bernie’s with his corpse later on). He is really pathetic and I cannot control myself.

Johnny West (Three Strangers): //heavy breathing// I want him!! Finally a romantic role!! Babygirl yes!! I know you could do it!! If only you also took the money!!!!!!!!! For that last one he goes into A tier and not higher.

Gino (The Chase): Show off more of that chest hair, slut!! I would also not let this man drive (not that I can either). Besides babes the backseat has more space~

Nick (Quicksand): Blackmailing is fun when it’s not happening to you~ Also if we get together I could probably play the games for free. That’s a plus.

Paynter (Double Confession): This man was so desperate for approval. And y’all cannot tell me that he and Charlie weren’t a bit more than friends. Oh a man saves you and now you would do murders for him (except he’s a loser and is not okay with murder). Babe ditch him I would let you kill people for me. I’m not a pussy.

Dr. Karl Rothe/Dr. Karl Neumeister (The Lost One): Babygirl you have some deep rooted psychological issues that you should get checked out. Still, here’s my number. Call me, when you feel like choking me out, but not in a killing way. (Or maybe in a killing way, depends on how I feel.)

Colonel John Miguel Orlando Arragas (Congo Crossing): The straights looked at each other once and immediately kissed, so that set the tone for me. Anyway he is a cop, but he does do the right thing at the end, but still a cop. The uniform is nice. Doesn’t like his job much, so that’s kind of sexy. Eh, you know, what A tier. He is the exception. (I do hope he doesn’t expect me to say his entire name while I’m d(HAYS CODE) him down and making him swallow my (HAYS CODE).)

Nero (The Story of Mankind): Listen, I have some kinks… if you read my writings you know… I’m also drawn to a man with power, and money, and insanity. (I’m also really glad he didn’t have the chin beard like the real Nero, because that’s a deal breaker.)

Smiley (Scent of Mystery): Absolutely disappointed that this movie didn’t have a Dora the Explorer segment where the characters turn to the screen and ask the viewer if they can guess the mystery scent. Anyway hot. I love a man who knows how to be crafty regarding his job. Cheating, stealing, lying, all traits that make a honest Hungarian. Even stole someone’s wife just for the heck of it. Oh, honey~ Only A tier, because I can’t see this relationship going further than some fun in the backseat, but that’s probably enough.

Comm. Lucius Emery (Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea): He has a pet shark and wears a uniform. I’m already undoing my belt. This movie was… mmm… not good tho.

Dr. Adolphus Bedlo (The Raven): He is an abusive drunk parent. But he is so wet and pathetic. Frued won, I really am just gonna get together with someone who is like my dad (the real one not Béla).

Mr. Strangdour (Muscle Beach Party): He is the strongest man alive and yet I, his silly little kitten get to top him. My only problem with him is that I cannot for the life of me remember his name for some reason so I guess he just gotta deal with being called Sourdough and Stroganoff for the rest of his life. My concern is that his stupid kid is gonna walk in one day and go “Oh, you guys are wrestling, who’s winning? 8D” and I don’t want to deal with that.

Abbott (The Man Who Knew Too Much): He is evil, he is cunning, he has a neat little hair stripe just like me! Would also kill a child, which I personally don’t think is a terrible trait (as we saw earlier). Absolute snack! Baby I’ll be your dragon, I’ll be your right hand arm-man, your silly little homo eye candy!

Dr. Gogol (Mad Love): My favorite incel!! I wanna crack his bald head open with my canines like a hardboiled egg, call him a pathetic loser, and pin him against a wall and tongue him down! But seriously the man is the equivalent of a Reddit user, he has money tho, and if I could be his kept man, I wouldn’t mind.

Colonel Gimpy/Baron Rudolph Maximillian Tagger (Crack-Up): That scene where the plane is crashed into the ocean and his hair is wet and he looks up straight into the camera… //fans self// H-hewwo… daddy… sorry… daddy… sorry… Yeah, top tier. No question.

János ‘Johnny’ Szabó (The Face Behind The Mask): I refuse to use anything, but the correct Hungarian spelling, fuck you Hollywood. Kinda meh about him before the accident, way too happy and optimistic for my liking. I like a man who is bitter and ready to kill. Also something about masks just gives people a certain allure. Gets extra points for being the only Hungarian character Peter ever played and judging from the letter he writes back home, Johnny actually knows the language haha. I wouldn’t have to translate him my stupid memes, we could just switch back and forth. Domestic bliss.

Dr. Arthur Lorencz (The Boogie Man Will Get You): Top fucking tier! The most guy ever! He is a politician, he sells snake oil, he is a doctor, and also the town sheriff, cat lover, gay! Is there something this man can’t do! Love him!

Fritz Bercovy (The Constant Nymph): I know that in the book the character is supposed to be a very antisemitic caricature, but I think it was rewritten in the movie. Also I tried multiple times to check how old Toni is, but I only kept finding it for Tessa, so I’mma just gonna give him the benefit of the doubt and say that Fritz is not a groomer, unlike Lewis. With all that out of the way, I have a confessions to make. This character sent me over the edge and I did a Peter Lorre expy in my novel. I am weak. I saw him in the fur with the cane (and the whole club was looking at her) and… he really be doing boyfriend cosplay with one of my main characters. Also he has money and is willing to spend it on his SO, so… //twirls hair// I’d love to be a kept man~

Cornelius Leyden (The Mask of Dimitrios): This man was put on this wretched Earth to wear bowties and by Lucifer he makes them look good. Also he has little gray hairs on the side. And glasses!!! //heavy breathing// I need to make him scream my name all through the night!

Peter Lorre (Hollywood Canteen): That’s just my mans! That’s just my guy! That’s just my husband! My sweet cheese! My rotten soldier! My good time BOI! How could I not put him at the top? (Disclaimer: The only one topping that man is me ayyyy)

Marko (Black Angel): This man really cannot sit normally, huh. Anyway, he was hot, fruity, and a loving father. And the movie wasn’t bad either. I was actually rooting for the straights in this one.

Victor Emmric (The Verdict): Oh, he is husband material. He is a morbid little bastard, and is also romantic. A bit on the drunk side, but I don’t care. He’s hot. Would love to do art trades with him.

Kismet (My Favourite Brunette): This man is MY favourite brunette. My nasty boyfriend who holds me at knife point and spits in my mouth and calls me his bitch~ (Is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me~) I would also help this man get his citizenship.

Peter Lorre (Meet Me in Las Vegas): People who say that they are only into him when he is young and slim are weak as fuck. Oh, so just because this man is old and fat and his biological clock is not ticking anymore you don’t wanna try and get him preganant anymore??? Move over!! I’ll give this man evil milk (read: cum).

Commissioner Lamoret (Hell Ship Mutiny): I love a man who absolutely hates his job and just wants an easy life and is also willing to murder a child for it. We have so much in common~ And with my help, we would have gotten away with it. We’d be spending retirement in Bora Bora, baybeh.

Felix Gillie (The Comedy of Terrors): You see that man? That man, is my husband. We are married. He supports me and I support him. I would lie in the coffin that he made for me. I know that most peeps fall for him in Arsenic, well I’m different. I have the Father Issues and I want stability and I feel like Felix would give that to me.

Morgan Heywood (The Patsy): He was suffering, I was suffering, there was a collective suffering with this movie. Our meet-cute is me absolutely going feral and killing Jerry Lewis right in front of him. Our eyes lock as I’m covered in blood and the cops take me away. He falls in love with me right then and there. Conjugal visits right until the end of my life sentence.

Okay, y'all can go now~

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Ah thank you, @hatchet-boy! In the interest of not derailing the original post further I'm starting a new post.

I've talked about this before, but since it's still a problem, I guess I'm talking about it again.

Misogyny and Sexism aren't exactly the same.

While all misogyny IS sexism, not all sexism is misogyny. Sexism is just a perceived imbalance between the sexes, where one (typically male) is viewed to be of higher value, better quality, and the preferred state of being. While the other (women, sorry for pushing this into a binary, I'm simplifying to keep this as short as possible) is viewed as less than and needing to be controlled and/or owned. Where misogyny involves an actual disdain or even hatred of women. Someone can be sexist without having any conscious dislike of women, a lot of people are. But all misogynists carry some amount of active dislike for at least some aspects of women.

Dean Winchester does not dislike anything about women. Yes, he has a bunch of sexist garbage rattling around in his brain that spills out occasionally, usually in the form of equating being girly as an undesireable trait for a guy to have. But I guarantee that Dean didn't realize that was coming from a sexist place because he didn't stop to question or even really think about it. However, Dean doesn't really think anything inherently bad about women in general, because they are women. Sure he idolizes men in a different way than he does women, but that's not misogyny. Honestly, I don't even really think that's sexist, but whatever, I'm okay with conceding that point.

But thinking women are sexy and wanting to have sex with them is not sexist, it's sure af not misogynistic. Lisa was a yoga instructor and she was really bendy and I'm certain that made for a stellar sexual encounter for both of them. After all, Lisa was still talking about Dean to her friends in a way that the one friend immediately clocked him as "The Dean? Best night of my life, Dean?" Lisa wasn't used, she wasn't being disparaged or insulted. At most she was being placed on a bit of a pedestal, which she did to him too.

I see the word misogyny bandied about all willynilly all the time and it drives me crazy. It's not something that should be taken lightly or conflated with something less severe. Misogyny involves hatred of women. It's serious and gross and not to be tolerated or thought to be cute or excusable.

[bloodgulchblog]

Forgot to mention that I finished 2001: A Space Odyssey.

I would say it shows some of the very best qualities of mid-century sf. While obviously very dated, it's actually pretty fun letting Arthur C Clarke write for you about what he thinks space flight will be in 2001 from his perspective very shortly before the first moon landing. The man loved describing procedures and sketching out the engineering, and was eyeball deep in everything at the time.

It's definitely on the harder end of scifi, at least if you let it get away with its premise that early hominids weren't developing tool use or eating meat on their own (insane, but critical to the premise) and you can tolerate the extremely trippy (and quintessentially 60s) ending.

Downside: It's 1960s about women (mostly omitting them or showing women in smiling service roles) and everyone is safe to assume white and American except like, one Russian guy. It's relatively nonpainful for 1960s sf as far as these things go, but it bears saying.

If you put me on the spot and ask me to say something that maybe sounds smart about it, the best I've got is that a mythos of humanity requiring a benevolent outer entity to intervene in order to develop higher intelligence and society? Pull the Halloween mask off and guess who: it's a narrative about "higher" societies and "lesser" ones inherited from the age of colonization again! (It really does just keep turning up like a bad penny once you start looking for it in your fiction?) But that's not like, the central thesis of 2001. It's what they're using to excuse the mystery and wonder they were going for, and.... Okay. I can roll with it in good faith.

If you've seen the movie, it really is the four major sections of the movie (monkey time, space plane, bowman and pals on discovery, insane endgame mindfuck) and even though there are some mildly different details, you can tell the two things were being written together. If you're like me and have no patience and can't stand a fucking mystery, the novel's willingness to spell everything out about what's going on is so soothing.

The most important thing of all is that Hal was just a little guy trying so hard to do a good job and ending up in an impossible situation. He was just a little baby. Not even Bowman can hate him.

[venturethighs]

Finished day twenty eight so now it's time for more fantasy au rambles!

The kiss certainly caught them off guard, but it's not like they were complaining.

You two were dating now.

Every morning you meet in the usual spot in the community garden, underneath the wisteria. It's a little spot you liked to come to visit by yourself before you met them. Now that they're fully apart of your life, you're more than happy to share your hiding spots.

Every morning you brought them lunch and a regenerating potion to help replenish their energy. That way when they head off to work late in the afternoon they're not as hungry or tired when they get to the tavern.

This morning was a little different.

You cuddle up to them on a soft picnic blanket surrounded by plush seating pillows. You cover yourself and them in a wrap you brought to fight off the breeze whenever it blew by.

Their body is hidden from prying eyes. You're tracing their tattoos underneath their undone shirt.

"I didn't think you'd have so many." You tell them. "They're all lovely, but didn't they hurt?"

They chuckle.

"Only a little. I guess I just have a higher pain tolerance?" They watch as your fingers brush against their chest.

"That's good." Your eyes are practically transfixed by their form.

They were soft, yet the muscle underneath was completely toned. You could feel it in certain places– their midsection in particular.

Your hand splays across their fawn colored skin. It's covered in scars and ink, roughed up from all the work they do, yet retains an astounding amount of gentleness in a way that's hard to explain.

"You smell good, too..." You blush.

"A-ah, thank you! You always smell good, too!" They compliment you back.

Like flowers. Except, it doesn't give them the headache real ones do. Other times, like pastries. Always sweet and gentle.

Their arm wraps around your figure and holds you closer. The wind floats by and carries the scent of wisteria.

"There's a special type of orchid that smells like chocolate when it blooms." You prattle. "I figure it's because vanilla is an orchid, so maybe it's related to that in some way."

They trace gentle circles across your back. They could listen to you talk for hours.

"Oh, I almost forgot..." They reach into their pocket and pull out a shining purple gemstone. "I dug up this amethyst the other day! I wanted to give it to you."

You take it in your palm.

"You're so sweet. You know that?" You place another kiss to their lips.

"Mm– not as sweet as your kisses." They smile.

"Would you like some more of them, then?" You adjust yourself enough to hover over them.

Both their arms wrap around your lower back and hold you close. You don't wait for an answer– your eyes close and delicately kiss them repeatedly.

Embarrassment arrives fairly quick. A heat stirs between your legs, but you don't dare say a word about it. You focus instead on showering them in affection.

You both lose track of time. Who cares if they were late, anyway? They're kissing the love of their life right now– that was clearly more important than anything.

Your mouth tastes faintly of fruit. Their tongue slips in casually, but you don't mind in the slightest.

You reach up to hold their face as your onslaught continues. It resumes for minutes on end before the sparks inside your hips are kindled into a flame.

You have to stop. At least... just to catch your breath.

You look down at them with a flushed face. Theirs is painted ruby red.

"I– I didn't mean to get so carried away–" You apologize.

"It's okay. Really!" They reassure you.

Your breath intermingles with theirs.

"D-do you–" Your question gets caught in your throat. You can't look at them while you ask it. "Want to go back to my house?"

"I– I WOULD LOVE TO–" They cough when they realize how loud they're being.

"O-oh, but... I have to go to work..." They remember.

You had completely forgotten that as well. You sit up and help them readjust their top, but just before they leave, you reach into your bag and hand them a pouch of coins.

"If you can't wait... here."

They take it with brief confusion.

"So you don't have to pay for it. At the tavern." Your face flushes even harder. You still can't look them in the eye.

They hand it back to you.

"H-huh?" You're worried.

Was it too soon? Did you just ruin this entire thing? Your thoughts race inside your terrified mind.

"I'd much rather wait until we get to your place." They explain. "It's not your job to please me. I want you to do it because you want to, not because you're obligated to."

You're speechless.

They swipe a finger underneath your chin.

"I'll see you later tonight?" They ask, helping you up as they neatly begin packing up your things.

"Y-yes! Of course! Always!" You smile.

They place the amethyst they gave you atop your picnic blanket. It's the same color as the wisteria– and it twinkles in the morning sunlight.

[villainanders]

Do u feel like the video was super spoilery? I’m not generally the type to care about that kind of thing but I’m seeing a lot of people get really upset and feel like things were ruined for them so now im not sure if i should watch after all..?

Hmmmm there was one piece of information that I was pretty surprised they just dropped casually and seemed like it might have been a later game reveal. Honestly though I feel like that might not have been the case and we’re meant to get that information earlier in game than people are assuming. There’s no way Bioware isn’t going to be very strategic about what information they’re okay with giving out in marketing vs what information they want to keep until release so my guess is this info just feels as weighty as it does because we don’t have full context for the rest of the game. I have a higher tolerance for this stuff apparently though so YMMV

[disappearinginq]

First Sentences Game

Tagged by @dragonnan and @itsjustdg

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway. Tagging 10 people up front: @buckky, @amandagaelic, @21forestglades, @altschmerzes, @vix-has-arrived,  @lovelucigoosey, @authorangelita, @djclawson, @cuppachar, anddd.....anyone else who writes and wants to play? 

So does this mean I do 20? Do I have 20? ::shrug:: Guess we’ll find out - and I’m not using the ones already published unless I run out of WIPs (which don’t have titles, just the idea that inspired them sooo...). 

1. 9-1-1 - mistaken for related prompt

“What’s it like working with your dad?” It wasn’t the first time someone made the mistake. It was admittedly an easy one to make - while they didn’t look exactly alike, there was enough overlap for people to make the assumption just based off similar features. Buck’s hair was a little darker, which Hen liked to tease the reason for was only the lack of gray hairs - most of which Buck gave Bobby himself. Their eyes were a little different, Buck with his electric blue that almost everyone noticed first, and Bobby’s a darker hazel. They were almost the same height, the same build, but mostly though, it was how they interacted. Buck hadn’t referred to Bobby as ‘Pops’ in awhile, especially not in public, but there was a familial ease which Buck would tease and Bobby would tolerate. Most people assumed the firehouse was like the military - the Captain was treated with absolute authority, and a chain of command followed. They naturally assumed that the youngest of the group wouldn’t be so familiar with their boss unless they were related. It was an easy mistake. It’d been made many times, though usually by someone in passing where either one of them could easily pretend like they hadn’t heard it, or smile and shrug it off with a simple head shake. But Career Day in front of a bunch of fourth graders was like sitting in front of a CIA interrogation.

2. 9-1-1 Buck and animals prompt

"Hey...Cap?" Buck asked hesitantly. "I have sort of a weird question. How do you convince a bird to leave the nest?" Bobby frowned, trying not to smile at the dead seriousness of Buck's face. "Well...when it's time to leave, the birds know." "Okay, but what if they don't leave?" Buck pressed. "Is there a way to convince them?" Bobby opened his mouth to reply before he paused, considering. "Are we talking metaphors, or actual birds?" "One hundred percent real birds." "Well....nature runs off instinct for the most part. If a baby bird isn't leaving the nest, there's usually a reason. Maybe it's not actually ready, or it's hurt, or..." "Okay, but what if it's not a baby bird? What if it's an adult?" "I...Buck, what exactly are you trying to figure out?" Buck held out his hands, which were cupped loosely together. "I found this bird, and it won't leave." He lifted his left hand, which was on top, and sitting cupped in Buck's palm was, sure enough, a brown and white bird. Too big to be a sparrow, and Bobby didn't know too many subspecies to guess any further than that, but it didn't fly away as soon as Buck's hand was lifted as Bobby expected. Instead, it looked quite pleased with itself sitting there and it didn't budge. "See?" Buck prompted, lifting the bird higher.

3. Outer Banks - continuation of Limits

“Mr. Maybank,” the ER nurse greeted them, flinging back the privacy curtain. “We meet again.” “Doc,” JJ acknowledged, offering a flippant two-finger salute. The man sighed, flipping through the paperwork from the folder on the foot of JJ’s exam bed. “This time with a police escort, I see.” He nodded towards Shoupe. “Is he under arrest, sheriff?” “He’s in our custody,” Shoupe deflected. The nurse muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘figures’ before looking at JJ. He let out a low whistle. “Damn, kid. What happened this time?”

4. Slow Horses

It’d been eight days. Eight days, and they hadn’t found him. Lamb could easily throw the blame on Cartwright. The man was always wandering off, pursuing his own leads and his own cases, as if he were an MI-5 team of one. His instincts were solid, and if that little shit Spider and Taverner hadn’t purposely torpedoed his training exercise to cover up their own cock-ups, he’d have his golden ticket and golden legacy still in place. Compared to Lamb’s normal throwaways, Cartwright was almost competent. Lamb never felt like he had to keep a tight leash on the young man because of all the Slow Horses, Cartwright was the only one there because of someone else’s mess. It made Lamb complacent. Lazy, he cursed to himself on the fifth day. Lazy, and fucking stupid. Because he allowed himself to forget that River’s ambition and talent were soundly outdone by his absolute shit fuck awful luck.

5. Haunting of Hill House - steven is haunted as fuck prompt

Steven always hated hospitals. True, he couldn’t think of anyone who actually enjoyed sitting in the hard plastic chairs of waiting rooms, listening to the repetitive pages over the announcing system, waiting for the doctors to come and deliver bad news.   He clenched the flimsy paper cup in his hands, debating if he needed a distraction badly enough to get another cup of tar-like coffee from the vending machine. Or maybe risk leaving the hospital for Dunkin Donuts. This was Massachusetts - there was a Dunkins at perfectly timed increments based on how long it took the average human being to drink a medium coffee. One was probably close enough to walk to, and guaranteed to be open. Luke liked the sweet ones - triple shot of coconut caramel macchiatto something-or-other with ungodly amounts of whipped cream. Luke mentioned once how terrible coffee was in rehab, thick and bitter that no amount of cream or sugar could fix. Probably the same as the hospital. Steven could rationalize leaving if he said it was for his brother.

6. So Help Me Todd - going into shock prompt

“But Mom, that’s not how it works, that makes it a misdemeanor not a felony,” Todd protested. “I know the law better than you, Todd, I think I would know -” “You know about upholding the law, not breaking it!” Allison tilted her wine glass towards her brother, eying the rest of the bottle. “He does have a point there. And that is his area of expertise.” “That’s irrelevant!” Margaret protested. “Don’t they say that lawyers make the best criminals?” Chuck pointed out. “Yes, thank you…” Margaret acknowledged, smiling before the implication sunk in. “I beg your pardon?” “Ha!” Todd cheered, holding his fist out to Chuck who didn’t reach across to bump it, but merely held it up just above the table before the doorbell rang. “You know what Chuck, we’ll get there. We just need to work on your enthusiasm, you got the spirit, you just need the attitude. We’ll work on it when I get back.”

7. So Help Me Todd (even though I technically might’ve pawned this off on @itsjustdg) It’s Not My Blood Prompt

“Oh my god, Mom! Are you okay? Are you - are you hurt, ohmygod, you are! Don’t move!” Todd pressed his hand down on the growing blood stain on his mother’s blazer, hard enough to make her yelp in surprise and pain, but he remembered lessons from Allison yelling at various movies and TV shows about ‘YOU PUT PRESSURE ON THE WOUND, WHAT IDIOT WROTE THIS?’ and he may not pay attention to a lot of things, but he does remember first aid, and the second part of it was calling for help. There was a crowd gathering around, multiple people with their phones but no one sounded like they were talking to 9-1-1. What was it Allison said? You had to tell people specifically to do things? “You!” he shouted at a woman who almost dropped her phone in surprise. “Call 9-1-1! Tell them we have a sixty year old woman, abdominal injury…tell them we’re in front of the Portland Courthouse and don’t hang up on them!” The woman turned paler than a ghost, and for a moment, he thought she was going to ignore him. Or pass out too. But then she seemed to gather her wits, and nodded once, before dialing on her phone. He only paid attention long enough to know she’d reached dispatch, before turning back to Margaret, who was still looking dazed. “You’re gonna be fine, Mom, don’t worry - help is on the way,” he reassured her, keeping both hands on her wound. His hands were shaking from shock, but he tried to keep his focus on her. “Ow…my head,” Margaret groaned, moving her arm to touch the back of it where it’d collided on the granite stairs when he knocked her to the ground. “Sorry about that,” he apologized quickly. “But you’re going to be fine. Okay? You’re going to be fine.” Margaret winced as she put one hand over his, and the other still behind her head. “Todd, I’m fine, it’s just a bump…” Todd tried not to laugh at that. It wasn’t funny. It would be horrifying if he suddenly giggled at his mom right now. “No, I think it’s a little more than a bump, Mom. Try not to move.” That made Margaret frown, and she shifted her hand, brushing against the sticky damp redness on her blouse,and then reaching up to his shirt and he could see the moment it registered just how bad this actually was, and he tried to soothe her before she could really panic. “Don’t worry - help is on the way, they already called.” “Todd…that’s not my blood.”

8. Yellowstone - season 3 fix it fic “You want a way out of this shit?” Jamie snapped. He pointed an accusing finger towards Beth. “Out of the fucking corner she backed us into?” Beth scoffed at that. “I can’t wait to hear this revolutionary plan.” “Gift it.” Beth almost choked on her drink, roughly inhaling whiskey half way up her nose. “If you think after the shit you’ve pulled, we’re going to gift -” Jamie shook his head. “No. Not to me. To him.” He pointed to Rainwater. “To the Broken Rock Confederation. It’s a fix for everything, but the only one here smart enough to know that - who actually has something worth losing if we don’t - is Kayce.” “You can’t possibly be-” “This is your doing, isn’t it, you sonofa-” John moved towards Rainwater, who didn’t flinch even as Jamie did, instead studying Jamie carefully, as if trying to guess where his loyalty truly lay, and what kind of scheme he had up his sleeve. Not that Jamie could blame him.

 9. Yellowstone fix it fic “Jamie didn’t turn on you,” Kayce pointed out from his chair. “You made him your enemy.” “All I ever did for that ungrateful sonofabitch was feed him, clothe him, put a roof over his head…taught him everything I know,” John snarled, swiping a hand across his chin. “I sent him to law school for chrissakes. And how does he repay me?” Kayce leaned back, folding his arms across his chest as he let his father rant. Experience said interrupting him just made him angrier. Best to let him ‘buck it out’ before he said anything to the contrary. After several minutes of railing against Jamie, John stopped mid pace, turning to look Kayce in the eye. “You’re awfully quiet.” Kayce shrugged without saying anything, waiting to see if John was finished, or just pausing. “Well?” “Jamie didn’t turn on you. Out of everyone, Jamie is the only one who ever did everything you asked - including give up his dreams, more than once - and it’s like it made you madder. This is why you ain’t broke a reliable horse once in your life - you can’t teach a horse through fear, because one day, they’ll find something they’re more scared of than you. Teach a horse they can trust you, and they will walk through fire for you, even when every other instinct is telling them to run the other way.” “Your brother isn’t a horse.” “No, but I figured you might understand the concept better if it was something you cared about.”

10. Yellowstone Kayce &Jamie fix it

“Why?” Jamie demanded. “If he didn’t want me, if he knew he was never going to love me - why? He could’ve just left me in a foster home, he could’ve just left me alone, but he didn’t. Is…is this a punishment? Is it some fucking mind game he’s been playing my whole life?”

“Jamie you know that’s not true -”

“DO I?” Jamie shouted, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Do YOU? If he hated me so much, if he was afraid of what I might do, why wouldn’t he just let me finish the job with the rifle on the hill? Why not just let me end it? But no, no, he couldn’t fucking let me go. A-and then what? Put me in the fucking bunkhouse with the rest of the orphans? But I went - I went, and you know what, Kayse? That’s probably the happiest I have been in years. And he couldn’t even let that go - as soon as he needed me, he put me back in the district attorney’s office, the same goddamn office he purposely pushed me out of with the Rodeo Queen - and now he’s governor - for what? For what?”

Kayce couldn’t answer - his mind was still stuck on the words ‘finish the job with the rifle’. “Jamie…what do you mean by that?”

“I mean, what the fuck is he doing in an office he hates and doesn’t want, just so I can’t? I-is it power? He doesn’t want me to be higher up than him? What does he think I’m going to do? I’ve done everything he’s ever wanted me to, I made a fucking lynch mob go away when he was lying in a goddamn coma -”

“Fuck the job, Jamie - what did you mean about the rifle?”

11. Magnum PI

“You know,” Thomas said, casting his gaze upwards to the cloudless blue sky. “I lasted twelve years in the Navy, and I was jumped by pirates a whopping total of never.” He turned back to Higgins, not inches from his face. “But somehow, despite the odds, two for two with you. Next time you need a yacht moved, call someone else.”

“Shut up!” the man with a harpoon gun snarled, jabbing the pointed end of the spear gun at Magnum’s arm, drawing blood.

“You can’t honestly blame this on me.” Higgins bristled indignantly.

“Uh, yeah,” Thomas answered. “Yeah, I can. I was literally on a pirate hunting mission. In pirate infested waters. For more than six months. And not once were we boarded by pirates. Zero. Zilch. Never.”

12. Hudson & Rex aphasia prompt

“Okay, I need you to be patient with me, Charlie,” Dr. Gates said, smiling briefly. “I know these questions are gonna sound ridiculous, but humor me, yes?”

Charlie nodded, trying not to wince as the motion pulled on the stitches at the back of his head.

“Only nod or shake your head for the first few. Or, if that’s too much, thumbs up or thumbs down for yes and no. Yes?”

Grateful for the out, Charlie gave a quick thumbs up.

“Is your name Charlie Hudson?”

Thumbs up.

“Are you a police officer with SJPD?”

Thumbs up again.

“Are you at home right now?”

Charlie frowned at that, his opinion of the question plain as day across his face as he gave a thumbs down.

“I told you they were going to sound ridiculous,” Dr. Gates reminded. “Do you have a dog named Rex?”

13. Hudson & Rex Lab Rat prompt

It was Charlie, but somehow…not Charlie.

His hair was a little too long, but it didn’t cover the strangely circular burn on his temple, the angry red contrasting with his otherwise much too pale skin.Dark smudges under his eyes spoke of too little sleep, his normally bright blue eyes dulled and staring a thousand miles away. Instead of a suit and tie, his clothes looked rumpled and filthy, the sleeves on his shirt too short and his jeans long enough that the back ends were catching on his heels. The five o’clock shadow did little to hide the bruising along his jaw, a deep and painful muddied purple that was shaped uncomfortably like someone’s hand.

And that was to say nothing of the gun in his hand.

“Charlie?” Sarah repeated.

He said nothing, didn’t flinch or move the gun, his gaze still fixed and empty of recognition.

14. Hudson & Rex It’s Not My Blood prompt

The door flew open with a crash, kicked in with such force it broke one of the glass panes in the window and making everyone - including the other animals - jump.

Bailey may have screamed. Just a little one though. Like when her brother would lay in wait around a corner in a darkened hallway and jump out at her.

Linda dropped her water bottle with a crack on the tile, choking more than swearing as she spit what was in her mouth across the monitor.

“What the -” Linda swiped at her mouth, angrily turning towards the door, but stopped short.

“I need help!”

An older man - not like, old old, but older than Bailey and younger than Linda - stood in lobby, a large German Shepherd in his arms. The beautiful dog hung limply, and for a horrifying moment, Bailey was sure it was dead.

There was just…so much blood. In the dog’s fur, on the man’s hands, on his suit jacket and white shirt.

And then the dog whined, briefly trying to lift its head, but unable to rise higher than a few inches before dropping back down.

15. Hudson & Rex - caught in a snare prompt

Charlie laughed. Or at least, that’s what it sounded like to Jesse. Or at least, what it was supposed to be, instead of the pained puff of air and the grimace it became. 

“You know, as much as this hurts - how stupid is it that I’m glad Rex missed it?”

Without really thinking, Jesse mused aloud. “He does have four feet instead of two - and he weighs about a hundred pounds less than you. It would be easier to carry him out.” 

The blood welled up between Jesse’s fingers even as he pressed down hard enough to make Charlie yelp, and Rex immediately pushed his head against Charlie’s, whining.

“Y-yeah,” Charlie admitted. “But animals don’t understand pain like that - there isn’t really an understanding of ‘it only hurts now, but we’re trying to help it feel better’. Rex is the best, b-but…” his teeth chattered for a second, and he looked almost apologetic. “That’s pushing it.”

“So…you promise not to bite me when I try and get this off, right?” Jesse asked, hoping he was actually distracting the older man. 

“No.”

16. Hudson & Rex fell down a well (ish) prompt

For the most part, Charlie could laugh at himself. It was hard to deny the accusation of being accident prone when normally simple things, like walking Rex home when his car was in the shop, turned into life-threatening-near-death experiences, like being buried alive. Or diving for a lost camera, something which he’d done a hundred times - the diving part, anyways - before, became an actual drowning incident after having his air cut fifty feet below the water’s surface.

It was easier to laugh at it then dwell on it. He took offense to the constant Lassie and Timmy references only on Rex’s behalf, because Rex’s heroics were real, thank you very much, but it was an amiable offense, rooted in good natured teasing. His usual response was “Excuse you? I have not fallen down a well. Timmy and I are not the same.”

He shivered, shifting in the almost knee deep mud at the bottom of hole he found himself in.

There goes that defense, he thought bitterly.

17. Hudson & Rex claustrophobia

It really shouldn’t have come as any surprise that Charlie developed claustrophobia, but somehow, it did.

Maybe because it started off slowly. Rationally, even - if an irrational fear could ever be considered rational.

After the freezer incident, he stopped crossing the threshold into Sarah’s lab until he ran his fingers across the sliding door, feeling it move beneath his fingers at the slightest touch from the sensor, proving that it wouldn’t lock behind him.

After the diving incident, he stopped closing the door to the bathroom all the way when he was in the shower, facing purposely away from the spray and towards the open door.

After the near-miss with the shipping container, he started avoiding parking in the garage, opting to walk from the further open lot, no matter the weather. He rationalized it was for Rex’s benefit. The shepherd liked the extra walk, especially since it allowed him to get extra snacks and pets from their favorite coffee and donut vendor.

After being buried alive, he stopped sleeping in the dark. Rex changed from sleeping on his bed on the floor to the bed with Charlie, so when Charlie bolted upright in the middle of the night, gasping at air he was sure wasn’t there a second ago, Rex could sidle closer, stretching out the length of the bed so that from toes to shoulder, Charlie could feel the warmth of his body, the softness of his fur, and the cold wet of his nose.

18. The Umbrella Academy - Diego asks Five to help out with a case where kids are going missing from a prestigious boarding school

“I’d rather lick battery acid,” Five growled.

Diego sighed, scratching at the raised scar tissue on the side of his head. “Trust me, Five, you’re not my idea of a good choice, either. You’re not my first choice. You’re not even my last choice. You’re literally the only choice.”

“Guess it’s not happening then, huh?” Five quipped with a smirk, blinking across the living room and back to the bar for his abandoned drink.

“Five,” Diego protested, “it’s not like it’d be the worst thing you’d ever done.” At Five’s raised eyebrow, Diego hastily added, “I mean, how could it possibly be worse than the Apocalypse? Or, you know, ninety nine percent of your life so far?”

19. Prodigal Son - totally forgot I had this

“No, JT, really, I want to know,” Malcolm snapped, holding his hand out – steadier than JT could remember ever seeing it – jabbing an accusatory finger at him. “What exactly was I supposed to do? Hmm? If you know, I’d love to hear it, because I haven’t got a fucking clue. I’m a bit of an outlier, you see – people aren’t good with things they can’t categorize. They want to stuff you in a box whether you fit or not, and I’m guessing as a black, male, combat veteran, there’s a couple boxes people like to tick off for you, right? Suicidal. PTSD. Temper problems. Into drugs and alcohol. Anyone ever tell you you’re a ticking time bomb, just waiting to go off?” JT didn’t answer – it was rhetorical and both of them knew it. Veterans today had a rate of suicide comparable to WWII, and instead of trying to curb the trend by digging deeper to find out why, Washington just swept it under the rug – denied treatment, refused disability claims, shoved people out on the street like Monday morning garbage. The only time people cared enough to even Google the statistics were November 11th and the last Monday in May.

annnnnnnd 20. 9-1-1 Bobby calls Buck his kid outloud

“He’s my kid!”

The words were out of his mouth before Bobby could stop them, before he even registered what it was he was saying. The gunman sneered at the sentiment, unmoved by Bobby’s plea.

“Your kid, huh?” The man sniffed, ducking his head to swipe the back of his wrist across his nose without moving the gun from where he ground it against Buck’s temple. “Then he oughta be worth somethin’ to you.”

Bobby kept his hands up, placating, and trying not to let them shake.

This was too much like the explosion. Too much like the bomber.

Buck injured, close enough to see but too far to help, while Bobby had to talk a madman down from killing part of his family.

“He’s done nothing to you,” Bobby said. “Nothing to anyone.”

The man’s lip pulled back in a snarl, and gun dug further into Buck’s head. “Nobody’s without sin, Chief.” He gave Buck a swift jerk, making the kid cough again as his windpipe was slowly crushed in the man’s grip. “How ‘bout it, kid? If I go lookin’, what am I going to find?”

[spongebobafettywap]

Hi I'm a Mystique fan. I feel like I'm part of a small minority here but I absolutely hate what they did to her in the new origins.

Like the Draco had her be easily tricked, heartbroken, used as a womb but at the end of the day she chose herself to get back at Azazel by nearly killing Kurt after his birth took everything from her and put her in grave danger at a rather vulnerable moment of her life (she just went through excruciating labor and right after that got chased by a mob for hours). She then went on and rebuilt herself, choosing on her own to never think about either of them again, and happily raised a child with the love of her life after meeting once again, being given some peace at long last.

These new origins had her be easily tricked even harder, even more heartbroken, used as a Goddamn printer and semen syringe by Destiny, hoe herself with people she wasn't even interested in or picked herself, build her entire hopes up of raising this child with the love of her life, expose herself as a mutant after "just seeing kurt", knowingly be put in direct danger by Destiny with a mob while she was trying to save their child, tricked into abandoning their child that apparently only she wanted, weeping alone by a cliff after doing some useless back and forth between a tree and a castle for someone who turned out to have bailed on her, spend 5 years tracking down Destiny to get back at her only to give that up because she chose to let her talk, presented Rogue as a consolation prize by the very person who tricked her into raising a child together in the first place, given the lamest explanation and excuses under the damn sun to justify everything (which with only a lick of knowledge on the situation would have made her realize those were more lies), convinced to forget about it with a full mind wipe she only agreed to do partially, .... She then went on to unknowingly remain with what could be best described as her life long abuser, devoting herself fully to her, placing her on a pedestal and as her main priority contrary to any children she's had even the one she raised, do everything in her power to resurrect her back to life and go back to doing exactly everything the same as before her death, be forcefully mind controlled by a telepath after said abuser gave the okay for him to do that if she didn't follow her along after she's shown some reservations and aversion to her last demands, go on to loudly mention her abuser as the other mother of the child said mother abandoned and chose to completely forget about... in the middle of active gun fight with their enemies aka for no damn reason (Kurt : "[Mystique] is my mom.", Mystique : "One of your moms!"), ...

I can't believe I'm saying this of my own volution but if I had to pick the better poison, I'll take the Draco.

Some people argued with me that through these new origins, Mystique had been given her agency back but ? I don't see how or where that is the case ?? Seems like she lost more of it and got left with none ???

Might be missing something here, maybe you can see something I don't ? What do you think ?

I'm guessing its a case of they for some reason like Destiny more so if she does more manipulative stuff they let it slide. They have some type of view where they have a higher tolerance for manipulative things women do compared to men. Or they let it slide because Mystique was in a long term relationship with Destiny. Or the other thing is they somehow think this whole thing adds to Mystique and Destiny's relationship... Nightcrawler being related to Destiny a character he barely has any dialogue with.. lmao. Honestly even if you hate the Draco at least it wasn't full of mindwiping retcons and more of "wow well you know everything of Kurt's life was planned!" It's also so bizarre that Xavier now apparently knew of Kurt's existence since he was a baby and at no point did he think "huh maybe i better reach out to this mutant kid who doesn't look like other humans"