#either first ask if its fine or give credits

[carolinelikesdinner]

Been taking a deep-ish dive into Fablehaven tiktok and it is genuinely insane because 25% of it is just someone making a funny skit with the fablehaven characters, and the other 70% is stolen fanart and AI being used for brackendra slideshows and edits. The remaining 5% is people being like "omg does anyone else remember fablehaven"

[imtryingbuck]

You’re Perfect.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: Bucky feels down about his scars so Y/n and Steve cheer him up.

Word count: 642

Warnings:  sad Bucky (major warning!!) fluff. insecurities. violence to someone who deserves it. super short.

Masterlist

You both knew something was wrong the moment Bucky stepped into the apartment, at first you both thought it was because he had been on a mission but normally he would be sweeping you up in his arms the moment he laid eyes on you, taking you over to Steve to share a kiss with your boyfriend, but today he came in quietly and headed straight to the bedroom and locked the door behind him. Steve gave you a questioning look which had you shaking your head, heart aching at not knowing what was wrong with your boyfriend.

“Buck? Baby what’s wrong?” you asked leaning against the bedroom door.

“N-Nothing, I’m fine doll”

“No you’re not, Buck can you let us in please?”

“I-Is Stevie with you?”

“Of course I’m here” your boyfriend says from next to you, holding your hand.

You and Steve stood patiently waiting for Bucky to make his mind up, not long after the door locks clicked. Waiting until you heard the brunet sit back on your shared bed before opening the door. There he sat at the edge of the bed looking smaller then you had ever seen him, slowly bouncing his leg up and down, gazing down at his hand in such disgust.

Sitting on either side of him once again waiting patiently for him to talk first, knowing that it was better for him and that way he wouldn’t shut down completely and act like everything was fine. “Do-do you two think its disgusting?”

“What are you talking about Buck?” Steve asks.

“My arm an-and the scars?”

“Absolutely not! Who said that about you?” you replied instantly, not once in the three years you three finally stopped tip toeing around the bush and confessed your feelings did you think that about him. Well even way before that, you always admired his arm, always thought his scars were beautiful.

“It doesn’t matter”

“Yes it does, whoever has said something Buck we need to know” the blond says before you could reply.

“Julie… you know the agent?”

“Bucky, your arm is incredible and yours scars are beautiful, no one and I mean no one is as strong as you to have gone through all that you have and still see the beauty that life has to offer.”

“B-but she said I was a monster and she’s right”

“Stop that, don’t ever think that about yourself. You’re not a monster Bucky. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out, you’ve made amends with those who were affected by him, and you’re an amazing boyfriend and friend.”

“You have the most infectious laugh out of everyone I know, you’re kind and thoughtful, you put everyone else’s needs before your own. You give and give and never asked for anything in return, Bucky Barnes you are not a monster.” You take over from Steve. Bucky sits there and nods.

“’m not a monster”

“Say it again”

“I’m not a monster”

“Now say Y/n is the best”

“Doll… don’t make him lie”

“Wow, rude.”

Bucky chuckles at your pout, pressing his lips to your forehead, looking you in the eyes as he repeats. “Y/n is the best”

“Now, here’s the plan Buck you’re going to go and shower whilst Steve cleans up and I’m going to go and get us some food from the takeaway down the street, and then we’re all going to watch movies in bed, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan doll”

Before you went to get the food, you made a quick detour. Getting in home Bucky and Steve were cuddled up together in bed, a film already loaded up on the TV.

“I love you both so much” Bucky mumbled as his eyes started to flutter close.

Two days later Bucky saw Julie sporting a huge black eye and a busted lip. Curtsey of his loving girlfriend.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[genericpuff]

The excessively passive voice when talking about Minthe being intended to have BPD is hilarious. "It was thought to have her written with BPD"? So weird

Honestly, once you start noticing this passive voice in how Rachel writes and talks, it's kind of hard to unsee.

Like, for starters, the BPD example. It's very non-committal, almost as if to sound like she never actually wrote her with BPD, it was just an 'idea' that she could neither confirm or deny as canon. But then you read the episode with the slap and-

It's- it's literally called "Splitting". It's about as subtle as a brick to the face. This entire episode showcases Minthe having an actual literal episode of splitting and it's plain as day to anyone who can read the title card and put two and two together. So for the wording to be so passive around her characterization... it wasn't "thought" to have her written with BPD, she was written with BPD.

Another example that sticks out in my mind of Rachel's passive writing is far later in Season 3, when Demeter reunites with Persephone and naturally expects her to come back home with her.

This line still fucking bothers me to this day. Besides the fact that it's just really poorly written dialogue, Persephone describes her being in love with Hades as if it's just some coincidental thing that happened to her that she can't avoid and not a deliberate choice she's making. "It would seem" my ass, Persephone is a coward for not being upfront and just talking to her mother like an adult by saying, "Mother, I love you, and I understand why you want me to come home, but I'm in love with Hades and want to stay in the Underworld with him." Instead the way it's worded is almost designed to absolve Persephone of any and all agency in her own decisions and active participation in her relationship with Hades by instead making it out to be just some circumstance that she can't get herself out of.

Again, this isn't quite as egregious as the aforementioned BPD scene, but it's still irritating because Rachel writes like this a lot throughout LO. And it's not just the dialogue either, entire decisions throughout the comic are flip-flopped and kept vague by Rachel so she can give herself plausible deniability over the narrative. I could come up with some of my own examples, but I think she managed to speak for herself just fine in the end-of-series Q&A that left both critics and fans of the series massively confused and disappointed:

LO is full of half-committed plotlines because Rachel herself can't commit to her own decisions. So the decisions she does make are left vague enough that hardcore fans are willing enough to fill in the blanks themselves, but anyone who asks her genuinely what her plan was, she just gives the same wordy "IDK it's up to your interpretation!" response. It's like she thinks people are asking her as just another reader who can only speculate, but she's literally the author, so why is she acting like her guess is as good as theirs?

Well, because that's how she wrote LO. That's how she's always written comics, with vague half-finished thoughts and just enough for readers to do the mental gymnastics of making sense of it all just to give her the credit for "smart writing" that she never actually did because she stopped paying attention after the first sentence. And that method of being vague for the sake of audience interpretation is fine for illustrations or anything that isn't trying to be a concise narrative, but LO did try to be that and it really shows how hard it failed in doing so when its own creator can't even come up with something slightly plausible to explain all the questions people had in the end. "There is some backstory there" but proceeds to not actually expand on said backstory. "I like to imply things without outright telling people", so do I, but the difference is that Rachel is using that as a crutch to not answer the questions she setup for her readers and then didn't resolve after five years. There's not wanting to spoon feed people the plot, and then there's literally refusing to explain your decisions when writing said plot, almost because you don't know any more than they do.

The entirety of LO is rooted in Rachel's passiveness, from her inability to answer questions concisely to every little plot point that was established and dropped throughout the comic's run. Writing a story is a series of decisions, deciding what to keep, deciding what not to keep, deciding what has to be changed, etc. and Rachel just... doesn't seem like someone who's ever been capable of making those decisions, especially when she's writing an actual long form story to the end and doesn't have the luxury of dropping it whenever it feels convenient for her like she did several times with The Doctor Pepper Show. Once she was actually held to a standard, once she was actually signed into a contract that expected her to make those decisions, she failed to and it culminated in one of the messiest conclusions to a story I've seen since Game of Thrones.

LO is kind of like Schrodinger's Cat - a plot point can be or not be whatever it needs to be so that Rachel can be either praised for smart writing she never did or absolved of bad writing that she did do. It's equally parts interesting and vague enough that whatever her readers give her credit for writing, she can give them a thumbs-up and go "you're totally right, champ!" and proceed to take all the credit of being a "good writer" from the efforts of her own audience who had to jump through a million hoops to make sense of her own messy writing.

But when she's put on the spot by those very same readers to answer for her own decisions, she can't.

Because she never made them.

Because there was never anything "deeper" going on, that's just what her style of "distraction writing" made you believe. The plot never lets you stop to think about what you just read long enough before zipping away to the next thing and distracting you with a new twist or a new character or a new plot point, and before you know it, you've gone weeks without reading about the last thing that was established you probably haven't even realized that those questions never got answered. Sometimes Rachel remembers to get back to those things and resolves them within a handful of panels, other times she forgets them entirely and just leaves them to rot in the hopes that no one ever calls her out on it. And when they do... she can just pull the get-out-of-jail-free "Welp, it's up to your interpretation!" card and get that credit all over again for being deep and insightful, meanwhile those who are rightfully dissatisfied with that answer are blanket-accused of "getting mad at Rachel for not writing the story they wanted".

To close out this ask that, per tradition, turned into an essay, I'd like to recall the famous words of fictional detective Benoit Blanc: "Look into the clear center of this glass onion... Miles Bron is an idiot!"

[goodlucktai]

hold the world to its best (2/?)

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: raph & OC, raph & leo title borrowed from light by sleeping at last part of the archer au

(prev) (next)

x

Raph doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until Draxum completes a cursory examination of the tiny turtle in Raph’s arms and says, “He’ll be fine.” Then it feels like Raph’s lungs unclench and let air in all at once. His knees even go a little wobbly.  

“It is a common spell that schoolchildren use for mischief,” Draxum goes on, watching Gio with an unreadable expression. “It will last about a week, and he probably won’t retain any memory of his time in this state. So when you inevitably drop him, or lose him, or traumatize him in some other third way, he will not retaliate later.”

Like clockwork, everyone in the room starts talking at once, vehemently denying the possibility of ever doing anything to even remotely upset this babyfied version of their eldest sibling. In part, Raph thinks it’s relief that causes the outpouring of emotion—relief that they can put their worry behind them and be offended instead—and Draxum knows them well enough to know exactly what he’s doing as he feeds into the commotion with an eye roll. 

Raph looks down at Gio and the little guy tilts his head back to look up at him neutrally, ladybug keychain clutched in his hands. Waiting to see what Raph is going to do. He doesn’t like the raised voices, dark eyes more cautious now than curious, but he still doesn’t seem outwardly afraid. Probably because no one is outright yelling, and none of it is aimed at him. 

Gio is so small at this age. It feels impossible that any of the rest of them could ever have been this small, even though there are entire albums full of baby pictures in Splinter’s room that would emphatically prove otherwise. 

He doesn’t seem afraid, but he doesn’t look like he knows how safe he is, either. 

“These guys are real silly, huh?” Raph says. “If they get too loud, you just let Raph know, and I’ll hush them right up. That’s what big brothers are for.” 

They’ve already broken down the situation to Gio as best they could, and Draxum was kind about using language little ears would understand during his assessment. It helps that Giorgio grew up in the Hidden City of some other dimension, surrounded by the magic that his siblings hadn’t discovered until they were teenagers—it was easier to explain to him that there was an entire life he’d lived that he’d just forgotten about than it would have been to explain the same thing to any of Raph’s other siblings at this age. 

And it certainly helps that four of the six people Gio has met so far have scales and shells much like his own. They match in a way that a child would pick up on instantly, that gives credit to the story they told him. It doesn’t matter in real life, but that sense of belonging is so important to children. 

Gio hasn’t expressed any disbelief—but he wouldn’t, would he? He hasn’t even asked a single question and Raph knows he must have them. He just watches everything carefully, paying very close attention when someone moves quickly or talks loudly. 

He’s so small, Raph keeps thinking. And so quiet. Donnie was nonverbal when they were children, but unless he was having a shutdown, he made himself heard in plenty of other ways. He wasn’t shy about using his teeth to make them listen. 

“Give it a week,” Draxum reiterates before leaving. He pauses in front of Raph, and his usual stern expression that only Mikey ever manages to melt doesn’t seem quite as severe as it usually does when he looks at the baby Raph’s holding. 

It occurs to him, abruptly, that Draxum only saw the turtles very briefly after their mutation, before Splinter stole them away to a kinder life. Gio is older now than he would have been back then, but not by much. Draxum thought of them as weapons at first, not children, but the last few years of coparenting unruly teenagers have informed his opinion. There’s something very complicated about the way he studies Gio. 

Raph understands Mikey’s affection for the old goat, and he understands Splinter’s grudging tolerance, and thinks he himself lands somewhere in the middle of the two. Raph will never be able to forgive him for Leo’s fear of heights. Raph will never be able to thank him for those tireless hours he spent healing Mikey’s hands. 

If he asked to hold Gio in this moment, Raph would probably let him. But it’s a relief when Draxum only nods to himself and heads for the door without another word. 

“Always a pleasure to have you in our home,” Donnie says loudly. 

“Isn’t it, though?” Mikey says, either not catching the sarcasm or electing to ignore it. 

“You guys are setting the worst example for our little guy,” April says, as if she wasn’t in the thick of the commotion all of five minutes ago. 

“Nuh-uh,” Mikey says maturely. “We’re the best role models in the greater Manhattan area, right, Georgino?”

Equally as surprising as when he put his arms out to be picked up back in the market, Gio opens his mouth as if he’s going to answer, and then quickly snaps it shut without speaking, like he suddenly remembered he wasn’t supposed to. He turns his head to tuck his face against Raph’s plastron, probably because everyone’s looking at him. 

“Hey,” Mikey says in a softer tone, some of the joy bleeding from him in favor of something with tender edges. But it only makes Gio press his face harder against Raph’s scutes, tiny shoulders creeping up to his ears. 

“Hey Georgie,” Leo singsongs abruptly, and waits until one big dark eye peeks out at him to go on, “wanna see another magic trick?”

Gio nods, maybe because he actually does want to see one, or maybe just to be polite, or maybe just because Leo’s the one asking. Leo shows Gio his empty hands and then reaches past his spotted cheek to pull a snack size Kit Kat out of thin air, like a street magician making a coin appear from behind someone’s ear. 

“How’d this get back there?” he says, playfully grandiose, unwrapping it perfunctorily and putting the prize in Gio’s tentative hand. 

Leo has never had a sweet tooth, but nowadays he always has at least a couple of Laffy Taffys in his pocket, so he can read the jokes on the wrapper and Gio can eat the candy. Raph is glad he has something that’s less of a choking hazard to offer the kid, that he thought that far ahead about even this. 

Gio takes a bite of chocolate wafer and his eyes get huge and round. He stares at Leo like he’s literally never tasted anything like it before and crams the second bite in his mouth before he’s quite finished with the first. 

“Woah, slow down,” Raph half-laughs. 

“Yeah, there’s plenty more where that came from, kitkat,” Leo says. 

“You’re gonna spoil his dinner,” Mikey complains, noticeably doing nothing to stop Leo from unwrapping another chocolate. His red eyes are studying the scene carefully, clued in to what Raph has largely guessed already, what Leo has probably figured out before any of the rest of them—that there is something here worth worrying about—but he smiles all big and scrunches his beak when Gio glances his way. 

From elsewhere in the lair, a door slams. Raph suddenly remembers that they had texted Splinter the bare details when they got home and then proceeded to completely forget about the group chat that has probably been blowing up ever since. 

“Heads up, boys,” April says grimly. Donnie takes three decisive steps backwards that put him solidly behind Raphael, and then, as an afterthought, a metal limb unfolds from his battle shell that draws Mikey back with him. Coward. 

Gio looks from Leo up to Raph, chocolate smudging against his fingers the longer he hesitates to eat his last bite of candy. He looks worried about whatever has made Donnie and Mikey hide, and doesn’t know April well enough to understand that her warning was half a joke, and doesn’t know why Raph and Leo haven’t reacted at all. He doesn’t know what cue to follow. He’s waiting to see what they’re going to do. 

“It’s okay,” Raph tells him gently. He’s rumbling, deep and low in his chest, and doesn’t know when he started doing that. “Remember we told you about our dad? That’s him. He might be loud at first, but not because he’s mad.”

“Sometimes you can have really big feelings that aren’t mad or sad, and it’s hard to make them come out quiet,” Mikey pipes up from behind them. Raph feels a familiar weight on his shell, slight and crawling upwards, a second before Mikey’s face pokes over his shoulder. He beams, and adds, “Like when you’re so happy you burst out laughing!” 

“You got lost once, and he was really worried,” Leo says. “He’s gonna be so happy to see you. He can’t wait, that’s why he’s running all the way here.”

Splinter is mid-lecture by the time he makes it to the den. They could kind of hear it as he was making his way down the tunnel, mostly indistinguishable and bouncing around off the brickwork and creating an echo effect that only made it more distorted. The tone was loud and clear, though. Splinter was ticked off. 

“—all of my children have cellphones and for what? For what? They are lucky I do not pay for them because I would certainly stop paying for them now! Money down the drain!”

“Oh my god, we didn’t check our messages for like half an hour,” Leo mutters under his breath. 

“I heard that young man!” Splinter snaps as he finally rounds the corner. Talking right over Leo’s wounded “HOW?”, Splinter goes on, “You had me worried sick! What sort of message was that, hm? That my Gray was cursed by some miscreant in the Hidden City, and you called Baron Draxum before you called your own father, and then refused to—to—”

It’s glaringly obvious when he finally lays eyes on Giorgio. His mouth hangs open, then snaps shut, and Raph has that realization he had before with Draxum. Once upon a time, all the turtles were this small, but Draxum never got to hold any of them. Once upon a time, Gio lived when Splinter thought he had died, only he got lost and grew up somewhere out of his father’s sight. 

He must have grieved for this baby, Raph realizes. He must have mourned him. Even when Gio came home, there were memories and milestones Splinter would never get to have with him that he had with his other boys. 

“Oh, Gray,” Splinter murmurs. “My little baby Spot. Look at you, sweetheart.” 

Leo looks completely disarmed by the tone of voice, and Raph isn’t far behind him. He hasn’t heard that voice from dad in years, since he was a little turtle himself. It’s different even from the gentle way Splinter talks in the medbay when one of them is hurt, or at bedsides after bad dreams. 

And it’s not surprising when Gio drops the candy he was still holding onto and stretches out his arms again, more hopefully than when he wanted Raph to lift him, more urgently than when Leo offered him a treat. Parents are something that little orphans probably dream about. And here’s a parent, looking right at him, talking as if he loves him. Gio’s reaching insistently, even wriggling forward like he’ll tip out of Raph’s grip completely if he has to.

Splinter is in front of Raph in the blink of an eye, lifting Gio out of his arms and tucking him close. He makes it look so natural, as if his arms aren’t made to make movies or fight endless battles in the Nexus, actually, they’re meant to do exactly this. Hold little turtles and rock them slightly, sticky smudged fingers and all. 

His eyes are wet. Raph is eighteen, and definitely still not old enough that he can bear to watch his dad cry. He reaches blindly for a nearby sibling, finds Donnie, and curls an arm around him. Tellingly, Donnie allows the hug without so much as a token hiss. 

“Sweetheart,” Splinter says again, rubbing his furry cheek against the top of Gio’s head. Some ancient hurt inside him finally beginning to heal. “My little baby. I missed you when you were gone. I’m so glad you’re here.”

[onestepbackwards]

oh, requests are open- super excited, I first found your blog via your requests :D mmm… if it’s something you’re okay with writing, could I ask for pokemon men of your choice comforting a reader dealing with really bad period cramps? mine have been bad recently, rip-

I got you (o゜▽゜)o☆ Sorry this took a while! I hope you're feeling better!

Word Count: 1845 words!

CW: Period talk/cramps, attempted breaking and entering (its fine don't worry)

Characters: Leon, Giovanni, Nanu

---

“Is it really that bad?”

“Leon, I feel like I’m dying.”

You couldn’t see the pained look on Leon’s face as you curled up further in bed. Leon had come over earlier to see if you wanted to hang out and have a mock battle, but when you answered the door, you looked awful.

His first thought had been you must be sick, and he supposed that wasn’t too off the mark.

You invited him in, though apologized right after. Something about how you were on your period, so you wouldn’t be able to host that well, nor do any battles.

After that, you had told him he could help himself, and do whatever while you went back to your room. All while apologizing again as you entered your room and crawled in bed.

Leon had to admit, he felt awful that you felt miserable. You were usually so upbeat around him, so to see you in such pain…

He didn’t like it.

It’s how he ended up sitting next to you on your bed as you held a pillow close, asking if you would be alright.

“Yeah, I’ll live. Ughh… I just can’t relax, the pain is too much today, and the medicine hasn’t kicked in yet.”

A moment passes, before you hear the sound of a pokeball opening. You open an eye, and your gaze softens when you see Leon’s Charizard next to you, looking at you concerned.

The sweet pokemon gently nudged your arm with it’s snout, and you hesitated a moment, before lifting it. Leon’s Charizard then gently took the pillow you had been curled around, before making itself comfortable by laying against your abdomen.

You sighed in slight relief at the warmth, and Leon smiled at you as your body sagged into the bed.

“Warm…” you said with a sigh of relief. This was waaay better than any heating pad.

Leon’s Charizard proceeded to get comfortable next to your bed, minding it’s flames. No doubt you needed this, given your reaction.

You barely had time to notice though that Leon had kicked his shoes off and climbed into bed with you, at least not until he curled close to you under the covers.

“It’s been a while since I had a day to rest. How long has it been? Months?”

You weakly smiled.

“Being Champion isn’t all fun days either, I take it.”

Leon pulled out his phone, positioning it where you could watch as well, and leaned against your shoulder.

“Nope! It’s usually fine, but… It’s nice to take a break and spend time with you. I don’t mind hanging out in bed.”

His words were sweet. Maybe you wouldn’t mind having more days like this with him.

Well, when you weren’t in agonizing pain, at least.

–

Being friends with a Mob Boss had its ups and downs, you liked to think.

Even if ending up close with the leader of Team Rocket of all things by complete accident, was nothing short but the work of a lot of shenanigans.

At least it came with benefits, such as an impromptu visit when you don’t answer your phone for a day.

You’d give Giovanni credit. He was possessive of the few people he was close with, meaning he was not happy if he thought something happened to them. Of course, this could also be read as borderline obsession, but you liked to think that with his… unique line of work… he couldn’t afford to be too careful.

It’s how you weren’t too surprised to hear banging on your door after you ignored your phone for several hours.

You had set it to charge that morning, and unfortunately started red week.

The cramps hit you like a hammer, and you ended up scrambling to take medicine, and get comfortable before crawling in bed with a heating pad. In your haze of pain, you forgot to grab your phone where you had it charging.

Groaning, you wondered if it was someone who would leave if you ignored it. Though when you heard the banging again, and the sound of your doorknob jiggling, you sighed and got up from bed.

You unlocked your door quickly, before pulling it open.

On your front porch was Giovanni, caught red handed clearly trying to lockpick your door.

Clearing his throat, he adjusted his hat, his face turning into a scowl.

“Uh… everything alright, Giovanni?” you asked. Said man raised a brow at you, showing his hands into his trench coat pockets.

“I should be asking you that question.”

“Huh-?”

If you didn’t know Giovanni as well as you did, you probably would have flinched at the glare he gave you.

“No answered calls, no answered texts. It’s been hours. What happened?”

Ah yes, Giovanni was definitely possessive of those he considered his.

Sagging a bit, you gave him a look.

“Sorry, I’m not feeling well, and I left my phone to charge in another room before crawling in bed.”

Another thing about Giovanni was how paranoid he could be. Calculating every possible result he could. He didn’t seem entirely convinced.

Rolling your eyes (though there wasn’t any actual annoyance behind the action), you opened your door for him to come inside.

He followed almost immediately, letting you shut the door behind him. You knew he wouldn’t let this drop if you didn’t let him see for himself you were fine.

Just because he somewhat trusted you, did not mean he trusted anyone else besides his inner circle of ‘employees’. He tended to rely on himself to make sure bigger things went smoothly.

No doubt he’d try to break in again unless he saw for himself, or he’d send one of his inner circle to do it.

Giovanni followed you into your home, and you gestured towards your charging phone, before looking at him a bit weak.

“See? I’m sorry for missing your calls and messages, but I really don’t feel well…”

Giovanni looked you up and down, and you felt yourself internally sigh.

“Just what are you even sick with? Flu?”

You gave him a deadpan look.

“Red week.”

It was silent, and a look of realization hit him.

“Ah.”

It was almost comical how his demeanor changed, though you decided not to pick on him for it.

“Make yourself at home, I’m going back to bed.”

You knew he wouldn’t mess with anything. Not like you had anything he couldn’t buy himself, and he wasn’t interested in any of your valuables.

With that, you headed back to your room while holding your gut, cursing your beloathed organ. Behind you, you could barely make out Giovanni pulling out a phone before you turned a corner and walked back to your room.

Crashing dramatically onto your bed, you curled up against one of your pillows and let out a groan. Here you had been comfortable, and had to get up.

Of course, you weren’t upset at Giovanni, but definitely more irritated at the circumstances of having to leave your cocoon of comfort.

You laid long enough to nearly end up in a drowsy slumber after being alone in your room for a bit, before you heard your door squeak open. You hadn’t shut it completely in case Giovanni wanted something, though you jolted slightly at the noise.

“Relax.”

Looking up, you saw Giovanni. How long had it been since you let him in? You weren’t sure.

“Wh-”

“Here.”

Before you could even ask what he needed or was doing, he tossed something on your bed. Blinking in confusion, your eyes looked over to whatever had landed next to you.

Your eyes then widened when you noticed it was a rather high quality heating pad.

“Wait-”

He held up a hand, and you paused.

“Don’t worry about it. Consider it a get well soon gift.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, and you barely managed to react in time and catch something when he tossed something else to you.

Confused, you looked at it, before your eyes widened at the sight of a pokeball. Curious, you clicked it open, and Giovanni’s Persian popped out.

The giant cat-like pokemon lazily blinked at you, before hopping on your bed and did a long stretch, before curling up next to you with a purr.

“Persian will look after you. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Before you could even get a word in, Giovanni gave you a nod, before turning and leaving your room, closing the door behind him.

Persian nuzzled against you, and you reached out to scritch behind its soft ears.

Giovanni was a busy, cold man. You knew this well, and you wouldn’t argue if someone said it.

…But you’d admit, he could show he cares in his own strange ways to the select few he was close to.

–

In hindsight, you should have expected this.

Starting your period while hanging out with Nanu was awful. Not only did the cramps hit you out of nowhere, but the headache and nausea decided to slam into you at the same time on top of it all.

Nanu, to his credit, was sympathetic to you despite how nonchalant he seemed.

“Got ya some meds and a blanket.”

Looking up from your spot on the couch, you saw Nanu next to you, holding each thing out to you to grab.

“Oh thank Arceus, thank you Nanu.” You said, sitting up with a wince before grabbing the items from him.

“No problem.” Was all he said, before sitting next to you as you tried to get comfortable as you took the pain killers.

Chuckling at the wince you made as you swallowed the pills, Nanu held back a grin as you groaned. He found your reactions funny, but he knew better than to laugh when you must be feeling absurd amounts of pain.

That, and despite his grin, he truly hated to see you like this.

You rarely let anyone see you feel this way, he had realized earlier. No doubt always staying home and canceling plans to ride the pain out.

Just how many times have you stayed home because of this? Or had simply pushed through the pain?

Glancing at you, he watched as you wrapped the blanket around you, giving a small smile to a Meowth that carefully pawed at your leg in concern.

The lil guy then carefully jumped up and crawled into your lap with a small noise of comfort, and you absentmindedly began to pet him as the Meowth made himself comfortable.

After a moment, Nanu let out a silent sigh, before reaching over and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He pulled you close in a comforting manner, and grabbed the tv remote with his free hand.

“Stay as long as you need.” he said, before turning the tv on and flipping the channel to one you had mentioned liking.

You were silent for a moment, before leaning against Nanu’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Nanu.” you whispered.

The corner of his lips ticked upwards in a small smile.

“No problem at all.”

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pulse 💗

Summary: Bucky can hear your heartbeat through the wall, and he can tell everything isn’t alright.

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader

Words: 600 (exactly 600, holy moly)

Warnings: None really, just mentions of anxiety and adhd. Wrote this within an hour, sorry if its bad

A/N: Self indulgent fic alert! This goes out to all my peeps who struggle with ADHD/anxiety. It sucks, but hang in there!

Divider credit: @saradika

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you called, not looking up from the papers on your desk.

A brief second passed, and the door creaked open. A cautious Bucky peeked his head in.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.

You suddenly became aware of your leg bouncing 70 miles an hour, and forced yourself to stop. 

“Yes, why?” You replied, ignoring the urge to get up and walk around.

“Well, I—” he hesitated, and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck, “I was passing by and I heard your heartbeat going really fast—super hearing and all that,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“120,” you stated, glancing at your watch.

“What?”

“My heart rate is 120 right now.”

“That’s pretty high for just sitting,” he responded, having a hard time hiding his concern.

“Well, y’know, anxiety,” you breathily laughed, but it wasn’t that funny.

“What are you anxious about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Nothing.” You sighed, lowering your pen and facing him. At this point he was now in your room, perched in front of your door.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Seriously, I’m kinda freaking out over nothing right now.”

“C’mon, you’re always telling me I’m valid for having concerns, you are too.”

“No, I mean there is literally no singular thing I’m anxious about right now—it’s just physical anxiety, the general feeling that I’m going crazy, or dying, I don’t know, both I guess. That sounds so dramatic. I really am fine. I mean, I’m not fine, but I am, yeah?” You rambled on and on, and cursed yourself when you noticed your leg had started bouncing again.

“I don’t think you’re okay, do you want me to bring you to Dr. Cho?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think there’s much she can do. The worst of this should pass in thirty minutes anyway, it’s just my meds.”

“Oh.” 

You could tell Bucky wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure if it was polite.

“I have ADD. ADHD, whatever you want to call it. So I take medicine so I can focus on certain tasks, like these reports. And it does help me focus, but it’s also a stimulant, so it also gives me a lot of anxiety, which is totally awesome!” You scoffed.

“Why do you keep stopping your leg from bouncing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to annoy you.”

“If bouncing your leg makes you feel better, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I feel like I’m embarrassing myself,” you whined. 

Beep.

You looked at your watch.

“Oh, look at that, 126!”

“Do you—would…would a hug be something that would help you? Calm you down?” He offered, casually putting his arms out for emphasis.

“Sure, Bucky,” you smiled, and stood up to meet him halfway. You knew it wouldn’t fix it, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Bucky wrapped you in a big embrace, and you were shocked by how warm and teddy-like it was. You gave a small sigh, and rested your face in his neck, knowing you weren’t going to be the first to let go.

He held onto you for longer than you expected, just calmly swaying together in your room. 

To your dismay, he eventually let go of you. You were about to thank him and return to your work, but he gently grabbed your wrist and brought your watch to his sight. 

“107. Good, but I think we can do better than that,” he sweetly smiled, and wrapped you back up into his arms. 

“It might take a while.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“As long as it takes.” He cooed.

A/N: Should be either A) studying for a history exam I have tmw, or B) writing my stupid essay that the rough draft is due tmw, but I wrote this instead bc I’m procrastinating  HELP ME

[daizedndconfused]

hello!! how are you?? i was wondering if i could request something to do with cole brookstone 🫣

please could it be something about him and the reader have a sleepover at the readers house and its just fluff!! you could write about them making dinner together or something

idk if you’d be down to write this and i hope i’ve done it right, this is my first time requesting anything 😭

slumber party

a/n: hii ofc you can!! i’m doing good thanks sorry this took a while haha but thanks for being patient with me <3 this was such a cute prompt btw i had a lot of fun writing this

characters: cole brookstone x reader (established relationship)

type: fluff!!

warnings: none (not proofread)

synopsis: you sneak cole into your house for a sleepover while your parents are out of town

word count: 2.5 k

Your boyfriend was perfectly punctual. So when the clock struck four the rap at your window didn’t come as a shock to you.

Smiling to yourself, you got up from your bed and bounded over to your curtain covered window. Sliding away the light fabric, the grinning face of your boyfriend waited for you, perched on the roof below.

“What do you have against the front door?” you asked as you swung the window open.

Cole gracefully hoisted himself up and vaulted into your room, his landing ever so silent.

“It just doesn’t feel right.” Cole gave you a quick peck on the lips, pulling away with a lovesick smile. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Cole,” you smiled at the term of endearment, linking your fingers behind his neck.

You and Cole had been planning this weekend for months. Being eighteen and finishing up your senior year of high school, your parents still weren’t extremely open to your boyfriend spending the night.

To them it didn’t matter if he was a ninja with honor practically flowing from his bloodstream, the bottom line was he was your boyfriend and therefore no sleepovers. Apparently his boyfriend title outranked his ninja status.

Who knew?

But none of that mattered this weekend. This weekend your parents were out of town for a wedding. Of course they suspected you’d pull something like this, but before they could even bring it up, you told them Cole was going to a training camp that weekend as well.

A lie, but a necessary one. That meant you two had the whole house to yourself for the entire weekend. You were giddy just thinking about it.

“What did you tell the elders?” you asked him.

Your parents weren’t the only problem. If either of you thought Wu, Garmadon, or Misako would be fine with this stunt you guys were pulling–dead wrong.

They loved you, seeing as you had been to the monastery countless times, but they were like Cole’s parents. And they also didn’t approve of sleepovers.

“Got everyone else to cover for me,” he assured you. “As far as the elders are concerned I’m violently sick and extremely contagious.”

You shook your lead with a laugh. “You better hope they don’t try to bring you medicine.”

Cole shook his head. “Locked it and snuck out the window. And I told Jay to tell them I brought a bunch of medicine into my room so they didn’t have to.”

“Very smooth,” you complimented.

“Yeah, come one give me some credit.” Cole scooped you up bridal style. “I can lie when I have to.”

“Which is usually never.”

“Only when it means I can spend time with my beautiful girlfriend,” Cole beamed as you two flopped down on your bed.

“Aren’t you the charmer?”

“Always have been.”

“Lies,” you poke his cheek resulting in a shared laugh. “So, whole house to ourselves. Whatever should we do first?”

The two of you looked at each other. Twin smirks on both your faces.

“Are you done yet?” Cole huffed from below you, doom-scrolling on his phone. You peeked over his shoulder a few times and saw that he was watching edits of himself. Both liking and saving them too.

“One second,” you mumbled around the cap of your marker. “So impatient.”

“I’ve been laying here for hours,” he complained.

“Hour–singular,” you corrected, removing the cap from your mouth and clicking it back onto the marker. “You’d know that if you went to school.”

Cole turned his head and shot you a glare over his bare shoulder. You laughed at the sight, ruffling his dark hair.

“You and I both know Misako homeschools us.” Cole attempted to get up, but you pushed down on his shoulders from your position–straddled over his lower back.

“Wait!” you insisted, leaning over his back to snatch his phone out of hands.

He protested slightly, but it was back in his hands in no time. You had just used it to snap a picture of the artwork you had done on his skin.

“Is that my dragon?” Cole asked, a hint of awe in his tone.

It was indeed. Using a marker that was one hundred percent safe for skin, you tested out a new design on your boyfriend. The idea had been in your head for a long time, you just didn’t have a suitable canvas until now.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed, pecking his cheek, looking at the picture on his phone.

The earth dragon’s strong wings stretched over the width of his broad shoulders while the dragon’s body and tail resided down the expanse of his back, ending just above his waistband.

“That’s a crazy amount of detail.” Cole zoomed in on the head of the dragon where you had drawn out his crown of spikes and added texture to most of your drawing.

“Maybe I’ll give you a tattoo one day,” you shrugged, climbing off his back allowing him to throw his shirt back on.

Cole was no stranger to tattoos. In fact, he had some. A few small ones here and there, but he told you if you ever got your hands on professional equipment, he’d let you give him a tattoo.

He even has your initials behind his right ear. You remember staring at it for hours after he finally showed you.

“Come on,” you patted his back. “I’m starving.”

“Starving means food, I’m in.” He hopped up immediately, following you down the stairs and into your kitchen.

The two of you forged for something you could make a meal out of. Luckily, your parents had just restocked all the groceries since they were going out of town.

“How does pasta with a side of salad and garlic bread sound?” You asked from within the fridge.

You felt a presence walk up behind you, and suddenly your boyfriend’s strong hands were on your hips, his front pressed against your back.

“I’ll eat anything you make, gorgeous,” he said, breath brushing against your left ear as he reached up and grabbed the lettuce and dressing from the top shelf of the fridge.

You turned in his arms and gave him a quick kiss. “Pasta it is.”

“Want me to–?”

“You can put the lettuce in a bowl and add the dressing.” You cut him off quickly.

Unfortunately, it seemed like that was the only task he could complete successfully. Throwing things into a bowl he could do. Anything else? Not so much.

You don’t mind much. Not everyone’s a good cook. And you personally find it much more fun with his company.

You saw the slight pout on his face, but he knew you were right.

“You can add whatever else you want if you can find it in the fridge,” you said over your shoulder while grabbing the pasta from the pantry and a few more things to make the sauce recipe your mom taught you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved a dismissing hand while the other grabbed a larger bowl for the salad.

Laughing softly, you made your way back to the stove to boil some water, and get started on the sauce.

You were in the midst of stirring and setting a timer when music flowed from the speakers built into your ceiling. Turning around, you saw Cole sat on one of the barstools, phone in hand as he nodded along to the song.

“Elvis?” you asked, pointing upward.

Cole nodded in confirmation. “Suspicious Minds is one of my favorites.”

“Mine too,” you smiled before leaning over to check on the boiling noodles.

It wasn’t long before you were being spun around. Taken aback, you almost tripped over your own feet, but he was there to catch you. He always has been.

Hazel eyes met your own, and you couldn’t help but mirror his elated expression.

“Dance with me?” he offered.

You just pulled him closer in response. One of his hands curled around your waist, while the other gently clasped your hand that wasn’t planted on his shoulder.

Unsurprisingly, Cole was a good dancer. Other than the fact he had amazing balance being a ninja, his father taught him to dance as a kid. While Cole didn’t love it like his father did, he loved dancing with you.

The two of you sound around each other and between the counter and the island as Suspicious Minds continued to play from above.

Neither of you could keep the grins off your faces, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he dipped and spun you. His strength just made dancing with him all the more entertaining. He could lift you with one hand above his head if he wanted.

However, the blare of the timer you had set had your feet faltering to a stop and ducking under his arm to check on the things at the stove.

You gave the sauce another quick stir before lowering the heat before moving to strain the pasta. Before you could get to it, Cole had placed a dish towel on either side and carried it to the strainer in the sink.

Steam wafted up into the air as he tipped the pot over the bowl of the sink.

“Thank you,” you sing-songed as he returned the strands of pasta to the original now water free pot.

“No problem, gorgeous,” he gave you a heroic smile before moving to take the garlic bread out of the oven as well.

Watching as he carefully slid the bread out of the hot space, you couldn’t help but be thankful that you caught him first before some other girl beat you to it.

“What is it?” Cole asked as he placed the tray on one of the unoccupied stovetops.

“Nothing.” You shook the lovesick expression off your face. “Taste this for me.”

You lifted a wooden spoon up to your boyfriend's mouth. He complied immediately, always eager to sample your cooking.

“Thoughts?” you asked.

“Amazing as always,” he responded with a nod.

“You flatter me,” you shook your head, tossing the spoon in the sink before combining the pasta and sauce into one pan.

“Flattery or honesty?” Cole asked, leaning against the counter as he watched you work.

“I suppose I can always rely on you to be honest with me,” you admitted.

“Damn straight.”

You laughed, announcing food was done. Cole fetched the two of you plates and held one out for you. You accepted, and per his insistence, got first dibs at the food you had cooked.

Soon, the two of you were sat at the island, eating your dinner side by side. Cole praised your food, and you laughed, insisting he only likes it so much because he can’t cook to save his life.

After you two had finished, Cole wouldn’t even let you touch your plate, claiming since you cooked he’d do all the dishes. You protested at first, but after he quite literally carried you out of the kitchen and into the living room you gave up.

Instead, while he did the dishes, you were looking for a movie to put on for the two of you. But you didn’t stop there. It was almost like a girlfriend ritual to make your boyfriend do skincare with you, and while you weren’t overly into skin care, you did have a few face masks.

Cole stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on what was in your hands. Pore strips. You’d put them on him before, and though he denied it, his eyes started to water when you peeled it off him.

“No.” He crossed his arms.

“Please!” you begged. “It’s good for you!”

“Lies, that’s just what they want you to think so you keep buying them.”

You didn’t back down, and eventually, you dragged him over to the couch and placed a pore strip over the bridge of his nose.

“Why do I let you do this to me?” he whined.

“Because you love you,” you said, patting his chest.

“Sad but true,” he sighed dramatically.

You gasped in fake offense before he tackled you back onto the couch, tickling your sides briefly. To compensate him for the pore strips, you picked one of your mutually favorite movies to put on.

However, when the thirty minutes for your strips were up, you had to chase Cole down around your house. Eventually, you caught up, reassuring him you’ll be gentle this time.

He eyed you skeptically, but stayed still anyway. You began to remove the strip from his nose, but almost every time you moved it, he’d wince.

“You’re so dramatic!” You laughed.

“I’m not! This shit hurts!” Cole leaned his head back, blinking furiously.

Slowly, you managed to get the strip off his face, but you had to stop him from scratching at the exposed place. To show him it wasn’t that bad, you removed your strip in one fluid motion. It hurt a little, you had to admit, and it made your eyes water slightly, but you powered through it.

“What happens when a villain slaps a pore strip on you, then what?” You asked as you two made your way back down stairs.

“Then I die a hero’s death.”

The rest of the night you two had spent watching your favorite movies with a bowl of popcorn between the two of you. At one point, you had put on one of your favorite sad movies, and when the main character died, Cole gasped and threw a piece of popcorn at the TV.

After the movies, you found one of your old Just Dance discs. It didn’t take a lot of concing to get Cole to do it with you. Somehow, he beat you every round to the point where you took to tripping him in order to win.

After another loss, you suggest a switch in games that led you to Mario Kart. Unlike Just Dance, he didn’t beat you once at Mario Kart. Not even when he covered your eyes with one of his hands.

Eventually, well into the late hours of the night, you two dragged yourself up to your room where Cole put on a pair of pajamas he kept at your house, and crashed into bed.

Soft morning rays bled through your half closed curtains as you buried your face further into the warmth of your boyfriend next to you. Cole’s soft breaths were ruffling the hairs on the top of your head, and his arms were wrapped around you as if he was afraid you’d disappear during the night.

Stretching as well as you could, you scratched at his scalp lightly, not wanting to wake him. A triumphant grin spread across your face. You had just gotten away with your boyfriend sleeping over at your house!

A cleared throat had your eyes shooting open. Your gaze landed on both your parents standing in your open doorway. Your father’s brows were raised, arms crossed as he tapped his foot while your mother was doing her best to conceal a smile.

“You’re back early,” you forced out a laugh, attempting to slide the covers higher to cover Cole’s body.

“And you’re grounded–three days,” your father deadpanned. Letting out a tired sigh he continued, “Breakfast is downstairs when you’re both ready.”

Your mom gave you a wink before following your father downstairs. You could tell neither of them were genuinely upset.

Well, you almost got away with it.

[pupkashi]

azul

when it comes to love, you picture it as the color blue

a/n: hi friends !! i wrote this inspired by this song :] i had so much fun writing this and i hope you guys enjoy it <3 please let me know what u guys think !! this is my longest fic on here so I’m nervous LOL

wordcount: 6,414

masterlist

maybe if you weren’t already 10 minutes late to lecture you would’ve seen the tall man straight ahead of you, prominent snowy hair blowing in the wind as he sips on his large sugary coffee.

but you were 10 minutes late, and you were texting your friend asking them to fill you in on what you were missing. in the second that you looked up from your phone the only thing you saw was a dark purple uniform.

there wasn’t enough time for you to stop or move away, bumping full force into a firm body, spilling the drink in his hand all over him. your phone slipped out of your hand as you stumbled backwards.

“oh my god I’m so sorry!” you shriek, scrambling to check your bag for napkins, pulling some out and frantically handing them to the man. “I’m so sorry i should’ve watched where i was going” you apologize, face flushed as you picked up your phone from the ground.

“it’s okay! i wasn’t paying much attention either” he laughs, “is your phone alright?” his voice is sweet, and you almost regret looking up at him and meeting his gaze.

you’re greeted by the two most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen in your life, the round sunglasses that rested on the tip of his nose barely covering them. the gust of wind that passes by the two of you pushes back his white hair, making you struggle to not gulp.

he’s so attractive.

“uhm- oh yeah” you chuckle, tearing your eyes away from him and swallowing hard, “yeah it’s fine, are you okay?” you ask, finding the courage to look up at the much taller man.

“I’m more than okay” he smiles, dabbing the napkins against his now coffee soaked uniform. “i know my students are gonna get a kick out of this though” the words make you feel even worse, and it seems like this stranger picked up on it, quickly speaking up, “it’s good though, those kids could use a good laugh” his eyes crinkling a bit as he gives you a genuine smile.

“you’re a teacher?” you ask, the two of you moving out of the middle of the busy sidewalk.

“yeah something like that” he nods, throwing the used napkins and now empty coffee cup away.

your eyes follow his movements, noticing the way the large cup looks small in his hands. “I’m really sorry about your clothes though” you frown, the man only waved his hands in front of him.

“no really don’t worry about it! that’s what washing machines are for right?” the genuine smile on his face makes you feel a bit better, a similar one making its way onto your lips as you nod.

“can i at least replace your coffee? it was practically full” you reason. you were almost certain the handsome man in front of you would say no, then two of you would part ways and never see each other again.

almost.

“or you could repay me by going out to dinner with me? or lunch?” and for the first time since you’d bumped into him, his cheeks were red. he was blushing. even though his cheeks were rosy, he had the cockiest grin on his face. you couldn’t even enjoy the sight because you were blushing too.

“that would be-” the loud ringing of your phone causes you to jump a bit, eyes widening as you see your friend's contact name flash on your screen. “I’m so sorry” you mumble, answering and turning away from the man.

“hey” you whisper, the color draining from your face when you realize how long you’d been talking to this guy.

“what do you mean ‘hey’! prof is giving out an extra credit opportunity at the end of lecture” they rush out, “you’re lucky he stepped out right now so i could call you, hurry your ass over here!”

you hear the dial tone before you can reply, holding in a groann of frustration before taking a deep breath and turning around.

“sorry” you smile, “i really have to get to lecture, i'm already super late but I’d love to get dinner sometime!” the words are tumbling from your mouth as you take a pen and piece of paper out of your bag, scribbling your number and handing it to him.

“my car’s right there if you want a ride” and as tempted as you were, you decided to not completely give up on what you’d been taught regarding stranger danger.

“I’ll be fine, thank you though” you smile, watching as the man takes the paper from you. “what was your name?” he’s looking up at your words, his smile shifting to a softer one.

“satoru” he replies, “satoru gojo.”

“it’s nice to meet you satoru” a wide smile on your face as you start to gather your things, “I’m y/n,” checking the time once more with wide eyes, “I’m also gonna fail this class if i don’t leave right now, bye!” you call out, waving as you walk past him and to the bus stop.

gojo would be lying if he said he didn’t turn his infinity off the second he saw how pretty you were in the seconds before collision. could he have avoided being an hour late to a meeting with the higher ups by moving out of the way? yes!

but that means he wouldn’t have been texting you now, sending you a ‘hi it’s satoru :)’ before walking into the meeting, a fresh cup of sugary coffee in hand.

it’s only after the meeting that he meets up with the first years, smiling at them widely and grabbing megumi for a big hug.

“what is wrong with you?” the younger boy huffs, pushing satoru away and fixing his now ruffled hair. “why do you smell like coffee?” he asks, nose scrunched up.

“did you bring us coffee sensei?” nobara’s eyes are practically gleaming as she searches the classroom, hoping to find the drinks.

“did you get us pastries too?” yuji’s excitement is evident on his face as he joins nobara in her search.

“I’ll give you guys money for them later” gojo smiles, his two rowdier students sitting down happily, “someone bumped into me and made me spill coffee on myself” the grin on his face is a contrast to his students' confused faces.

“why are you smiling about that” megumi scoffs.

“it’s so romantic isn’t it? they bumped into me! i think it’s destiny” he sighs dreamily, megumi only rolls his eyes as yuji and nobara stare at each other.

satoru is sitting in his office when his phone vibrates, immediately checking it and grinning when he sees your name on the screen.

‘hii sorry i was super busy after lecture :P’

he’s setting his phone down, giggling to himself as he thinks of what to reply, trying to not seem too eager. one minute is long enough, right?

‘no worries :)’ he sends. immediately overthinking when he doesn’t see the three dots pop up. did he just kill the conversation? should he double text? is that too lame?

satoru was sure you were at home completely unphased by his texts, much more calm about the interaction than he was.

you were clinging to your roommate as you showed them the text, “what does this mean? how do i reply? when do i bring up the dinner?” you groaned, panicked as you paced the room.

“calm down!” they laughed, taking the phone from your hand and opening the message for you, “how about asking how his day was?” their voice was calm and it brought you to a complete stop, your face returning to an easy smile.

“you’re a genius” you mumble, grabbing your phone and typing back quickly.

‘how was ur day ? hope your students didn’t make fun of you too harshly hehe’

“how’s this? too much? maybe I’ll delete this part” you say, chewing on your bottom lip as your roommate smacks the back of your head. “ouch! what was that for” you pout.

“send the message as it is! you want him to like you don’t you? not some weird filtered version” you know they’re right and you can’t help but hate them for it.

“yeah yeah whatever” you snicker, “ouch!” you laugh as they pinch your arm a bit.

‘they made fun of me so much </3 the only way i can think of feeling better is seeing you soon’

“oh he’s one smooth talker” your friend smiles, peering over your shoulder, “i get why you took so long getting to lect- oh my god you’re blushing!” you’re quick to try and deny it, giving up as you burst into giggles rereading the text.

“what the fuck do i say? I don’t fucking know how to flirt” you cry out, thumbs dancing over the screen as you think of what to say.

‘just talked to a nurse and she said your condition is only gonna worsen if we don’t get dinner tomorrow at 7 :O’

‘guess I’ll just have to send you the details tomorrow huh?’

gojo satoru was never one to giggle and swing his feet from a mere text message. but as soon as he read your text he 100% was.

the next day came quickly and although you were in completely different places, the realization struck the both of you like a slap in the face.

“what am i gonna wear?” you shrieked, turning to your roommate in a panic.

“what am i gonna wear?” satoru asked nanami, nervousness etched in his every feature.

it takes you two hours and a messy room to finally pick your outfit out, smiling in the mirror as your roommate cheers you on.

“that man’s gonna get swept off his feet by you” they smile, watching as you giggle to yourself.

“he’s like six foot something so that’s unlikely” you tease, laughing as they roll their eyes at you. “but hopefully! finger crossed” you smile, setting the outfit aside as you get ready to hop in the shower, the butterflies in your stomach only growing in number as the time comes closer.

“satoru you’ve tried that shirt like six times already” nanami groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks at the older man.

“but not with these shoes!” satoru isn’t sure how much longer he has until kento walks out on him, leaving him to his own defenses, so he narrows down his options quickly, finally content with his reflection in the mirror as he walks out, a giant grin painted on his face.

“you look nice” nanami says, taking a drink of water, “where are you going again?” he asks, nearly choking on his water when satoru answers him.

“a date”

“a date?”

satoru replies with a light hum, fixing his hair a bit before turning to the blonde man. “met them the other day actually, i think you’d like them!”

“they’re not even a sorcerer? do they know-” nanami begins to reason but satoru isn’t having any of it.

“no need to rain on my parade! thank you for your help I’ll call you and let you know how it goes!” he calls out, waving goodbye as nanami swipes a croissant on his way out.

“please don’t call me,” he replies, shutting the door and leaving satoru alone.

he’s quick to rush to the restroom, fluffing his hair a bit and running his fingers through it, glancing at his reflection and smiling. he doesn’t remember the last time he had felt so giddy, maybe when he, suguru and shoko had pranked yaga years ago.

but this was different, his stomach felt fuzzy and he was constantly checking his phone, willing for 6:30 to arrive so he could go pick you up.

satoru ended up leaving his house at 6, stopping by a local flower shop and getting a bouquet for you, placing it gently in the passenger seat before driving to the address you’d sent.

it’s 6:30 on the dot when you hear a knock on your door, your roommate shooting you a smile and a thumbs up as you walk out of their room and to the front door.

“hi” you smile, eyes landing on his blue ones, barely covered by the sunglasses he’s wearing.

“hi” he replies back, “oh um, these are for you” he extends his arms out, the floral smell makes your smile even bigger, face flushing as you thank him.

“you can come in! I’ll just put these in water real fast” you grin, motioning for him to come in.

he’s looking around your apartment, noticing how decorated and warm it feels, so homey. his eyes land on the framed pictures on the wall, spotting you easily among the group of people he assumes are your friends.

“oh those are so embarrassing” you chuckle, placing the vase on the dining table before turning to look at satoru, “i look so silly in like half of these” you say, gesturing to the collage of photos on the wall.

“you look great” he assures, giving you a charming smile that has your ears burning. “you ready?” you only nod, the two of you walking out as you close the door behind you, locking it quickly.

“where are we going?” you ask, satoru only smiling at you as he opens the car door for you, closing it gently and heading to the driver's seat.

“are you competitive?” the question makes your head cock to the side a bit.

“sometimes i guess, why?” you’re studying his features, taking in just how pretty he really was.

“you like arcades?” he turns to you with a smile, watching as your lips turn upwards as you smile at him.

the drive there doesn’t take too long, easy conversation flowing between the two of you as you get to know each other a bit better.

“wait, what’s your favorite color?” he asks you, walking into the colorful arcade.

“I don’t think i have one actually, ill get back to you on that” you reply, your lips forming a small pout as you think for a bit. “do you have one?” his attention is on you now.

“the color of your eyes” he flirts, loving the way your breathing hitches in your throat as you look away for a moment.

“okay I’ll admit that was smooth” you laugh, composing yourself as you look at him and bump shoulders, “don’t go getting cocky on me though, I’ll spill coffee all over you.” satoru is all smiles at your words, laughing along with you as you reach the kiosk.

the date goes amazingly, the two of you laughing as you both fail miserably at the claw games available, cheering when you finally get the small cat plush he said he thought was cute.

satoru spends a good twenty minutes trying to get the puppy plush you wanted, finally getting it after the nth time of it just barely missing the hole.

it’s during the arcade games that the two of you get more serious, resorting to cheating by pushing satoru when he passes you in the racing game you were playing, groaning when you still managed to end up in 5th and him in 1st.

it’s 10 pm when the two of you walk out of the arcade, all smiles and laughter when you get in the car.

“you have to admit i handed your ass to you in air hockey” you smiled, the puppy plushy in your hold as you watched satoru put his seatbelt on, his arm resting on the back of your seat as he reversed out.

you’re trying to calm yourself down as you notice how perfect his jawline looks and how soft the hair at the nape of his neck looks, swallowing a bit hard as you look forward.

“okay I’ll admit that one,” he chuckles, turning to face you for a second before focusing on the road again. “do you like ice cream?”

“i love ice cream” you reply, watching as his features light up at your words.

“d’you wanna go get some? we could always get some another time” he assures you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“you’re very bold to assume there’ll be another time” you quip, trying to fight the smile threatening to appear on your lips.

“is that a yes?” he grins, watching the way you bite your bottom lip and look out the window before focusing your gaze on him.

“it’s not a no” your words make his body buzz, ears flushing as he pulls into the ice cream parlor. he’s sure the ice cream wouldn’t be as sweet as you were.

you’re reaching your front door only a couple minutes shy of midnight, taking your keys out of your bag before looking at satoru.

“i had a great time tonight” you smile, something you found yourself doing anytime you’d been around the white haired man.

“i did too” he’s towering over you, fingers itching to pull you closer to him. you’re staring up at him, eyes bright as he stares down at you.

satoru prays to any and every higher force as he leans down, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek, his face beet red as he meets your eyes.

“sleep well,” he smiles, ready to turn around when you stop him. your fingers wrapping around his wrist as you pull him towards you, a chaste kiss being placed on his cheek.

“let me know when you get home safe” you say, heartbeat in your ears as you walk into your apartment, giving him a small wave as he begins to walk away.

it’s only seconds later that you’re giggling and shrieking like a schoolgirl, a blush and smile on your face that you can’t seem to get rid of.

satoru texts you minutes later, letting you know he was home safe and he had a great time. you’re quick to reply, telling him you had so much fun and looked forward to next time.

the two of you ended up texting back and forth practically all night, only stopping when you’d fallen asleep between texts, waking up the next morning and apologizing for leaving him on read.

the two of you continued to go out on dates almost every week, texting back and forth and having late FaceTime calls when you were too exhausted to text.

“this prof is so- ugh!” you groan, your head resting on your crossed arms over your desk, only the top of your head being visible to gojo.

“what do you have left to do?” he asks through your phone, his upper body visible, a black sweatshirt on as he plays some game on his switch. he had wanted to give you company while you finished your last assignment, cheering you on.

as you explained your assignment, satoru listened intently, pausing his game and reading a notification he’d gotten. his lips formed a small frown, and as he replied you noticed his brows were furrowed.

“y/n im sorry i have to go take care of this work thing” he sighs.

“it’s like 2 am though?” you say, suddenly not exhausted at all as you look at him through your screen. “what do you have to do at school at 2 in the morning?”

nanami’s words ring in his ears as he tries to come up with something. he had to tell you eventually if he really wanted to make this serious.

“one of my students needs help with something,” he explains, “they live on campus.”

you nod, apologizing for sounding so accusatory and blaming the exhaustion, saying goodbye before you hang up.

satoru is groaning, pulling his uniform on before teleporting to campus, Ijichi ready to take him to where the curse had been spotted. he’s distracted the entire time, the only thought on his mind being how he was going to tell you.

would you even want to be with him after that?

satoru bites the bullet two dates later, the two of you sitting on a blanket when he faces you, playful looks gone and replaced by a more serious, nervous one.

“i need to tell you something,” he says, and you can feel your heart falling as the smile fades from your face.

it’s a lot to take in. you’re listening to satoru talk about the Jujutsu world, explaining everything as best he could but not wanting to overwhelm you.

“that’s why you always wear sunglasses?”

satoru is shocked that that’s the question you ask him first. he nods his head nonetheless.

“i understand if you don’t wanna deal with all this, i just- i wanted to tell you before we made it more serious” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly, admitting he wanted to make things official.

satoru gave you time and space to decide on your own, not pushing you towards any decision. he did however call nanami later that day, in shambles as he explained to him he might’ve just fumbled the best opportunity of love he’d ever get in his life.

it’s days later when yuji is running up to satoru with his phone in hand, “sensei! it’s y/n they’re calling you!” he shouts, tossing the phone to gojo before smiling up at him brightly as he answers.

“hello?” he asks, biting his bottom lip nervously. yuji can’t make out exactly what you’re saying, but as he sees a smile form on gojo’s face and a giggle leave his lips, he knows it’s something good.

“I’ll be there in a minute” he smiles, hanging up before looking at yuji with a wide smile. “we are so back!” he cheers, yuji high fiving him before he sees him teleporting away.

satoru is at your front door quite literally one minute later, knocking gently. you open the door with a smile, not realizing how much you missed seeing him the past two weeks.

“hi” you breathe out, did he get buffer? we’re his shoulders always that broad?

“hi” he smiles, “where’s the bug?” he asks, following you into your apartment as you point at the corner of your living room, watching in fright as satoru takes the cup from your hands and easily reaches up to capture it.

he’s letting the little guy outside, setting him in between the shrubs and handing you your cup back with a smile. “if that’s all you needed I’ll get going” he says, looking at you with a small smile.

you’re hesitant for a second, but as he takes another step closer to the door you find yourself moving on your own.

“wait don’t go” it’s rushed out and your voice isn’t as confident as you want it to be. but satoru is turning around, his face bright as he turns to face you, eyes gleaming. “i- i thought about it” you say, picking at your fingers and shifting your weight onto your other foot.

satoru is quiet, a soft string of ‘please’ echoing through his head as he waits for you to continue. he’s looking at you intently and you finally speak up after what feels like forever.

“i really like you” you breathe out, eyes flickering between your hands and satoru’s face, “i haven’t felt this way about someone maybe ever and god that’s embarrassing to say out loud” you laugh, satoru’s smile only grows wider as you continue.

“i don’t know anything about your magic world or whatever it’s called, but I’d love to give this a try” you say, out of breath as you look up at him, “if you still wanna,” your brain finally catching up with your mouth and you wonder if you just embarrassed yourself in front of the most perfect man in the world.

“I’d want nothing more in the world” he grins, stepping a bit closer to you, his fingers just barely grazing the skin of your cheek before he’s pulling away.

you’re so close to each other, you can smell his minty breath, you can see just how glossy his lips are and you can make out the faintest shapes of his dimples.

“that’s good, or that would’ve been embarrassing” you mumble, satoru smiles at your words, neither one of you moving an inch.

“no yeah i get it, cause of everything and, yeah” his words don’t make sense, yet you somehow are nodding along in understanding. your eyes flicking down to his lips.

“for sure” you whisper, looking up to meet his eyes before leaning in just a bit more, voice trailing off.

he doesn’t wanna rush you into this, but he’s certain his hearts gonna give out any second if you don’t close the distance between the two of you.

“can i kiss you?” he voice is airy and light, and you don’t have enough confidence in your voice as you nod your head, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips meet yours.

he tastes like mint and honey lip balm, and you can’t help but want more, more and more as your lips move against one another. you can feel your body growing hotter by the second, your hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it.

your mind is blank as you kiss him, the only fleeting thought in your mind is him. his blue eyes, his bad jokes, the way he knew exactly when to text you, how he really listened to what you were saying. you could only think of him.

satoru can feel his body buzzing, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him, face flushing as you both pull away, trying to catch your breath.

you’re both smiling at each other, sheepish giggles filling the living room as you pull away from each other. satoru’s face is flushed red, his lips still tingling from the moments prior. you’re the first to break the silence, the two of you still standing.

“you gonna ask me out or are we keeping this moment ambiguous?” your voice is light as you speak, the giddiness behind your voice is obvious as you smile up at him.

“you just can’t live without me” he sighs, laughing when you smack his chest. he’s quick to follow you to the couch, sitting next to you and grabbing your hand.

“will you do me the honor of being mine?” the golden rays of the setting sun hit him perfectly, blue eyes practically glowing as they look back at you. his dimples are prominent now as he smiles.

“I’d want nothing more” you reply, giggling as he peppers your face with feathery kisses.

time seems to fly once the two of you begin dating, one second you’re shyly holding hands on a walk and the next he’s stealing fries off your plate like it’s instinct.

it’s three months since that day, and you were beyond grateful that a spider had appeared in your apartment, even more so that satoru wasn’t scared of bugs like you were.

satoru is knocking on your door, drenched to the bone and holding a bouquet of blue flowers, smiling at you through his dripping wet bangs, “missed you so much” he pouts as you let him in.

“satoru i saw you two days ago” you giggle, “don’t you have infinity? why are you soaking wet?” he’s sporting a grin that you’ve come to learn means trouble.

“don’t you wanna cuddle me and make sure i don’t catch a cold?” his smile turning into a pout, his pleading eyes tugging on your heartstrings as you roll your eyes.

“you’re so annoying” you scoff, “take your wet clothes off” you instruct, taking the flowers from his hand and placing them in a vase on the dining table.

satoru is quick to peel the wet clothes from his body, goosebumps rising on his skin as the air hits him. “if i had known flowers got you in the mood i would’ve bought you ‘em everyday” he teases, walking over to you as drops of water roll down his abs.

it takes all your willpower to not check him out, looking at him with furrowed brows and a shocked expression, “so you wouldn’t buy me flowers everyday just cause you care about me?” an accusatory tone to your words that has satoru’s life flashing before his eyes.

“wow, all men are the same,” you sigh, shaking your head as you walk to grab a towel from your restroom.

your path is quickly blocked by the sorcerer, eyes wide as he begins to apologize, “i didn’t mean it like that sweets im-”

your laughter cuts him off, “just messing with ya angel boy” pressing a kiss to his cheek before patting his shoulder as you walk around him. the pet name causing his cheeks to flush and his dimples to peak out.

“now seriously go take a warm shower and I’ll make us some hot cocoa” satoru is saluting you as you hand him some clothes to change into, noting that the shirt you gave him is one he’d been searching for weeks for.

it’s when you’re laying on the couch together, cuddled in his arms watching reality tv and complaining about the drama that you get a fuzzy feeling in your stomach and in your chest.

it’s when he’s resting his head on your stomach, the two of you in the countryside gazing up at the stars, hushed giggles as you make up your own constellations.

it’s in the little moments the two of you share that you realize you love him.

the realization dawns on you when satoru points at the stars ‘that can be our star!’ he smiles, and you’re choking on your hot chocolate as the thought crosses your mind.

“oh my god what’s wrong with you?” satoru gasps, patting your back and staring at you with wide eyes as he sits up.

your face is flushed as you finally stop coughing, drinking some water and staring at your boyfriend. his hair is a bit messy from the back, the navy sweatshirt hanging loosely off his body, you can smell his cologne on your shirt.

what if he wasn’t ready? what if he didn’t want to commit or what if-

“are you gonna throw up on me?” his brows furrowed with concern as he studied your face, “cause then you’d owe me two shirts.”

you only manage to scoff at him, rolling your eyes at him, “you’re so annoying” the grin on your face giving away your true feelings.

“yeah but you love me” the words leave his mouth before he can even process what he’s saying. the color leaving his face when his brain does catch up, trying to take his words back.

“i mean what- what i meant to say was that you really like me” his face is red as he stutters his words out, too flustered to even look at you.

“but what if I did?” you whisper, eyes frantically searching his face. 

there’s a beat of silence and you’re afraid you’ve ruined it all. maybe you were gonna throw up on him after all. 

“I really hope this isn’t one of your hypothetical questions,” his confidence wavering as he continues, “because I’d tell you I felt the same way.” his heart is racing and he thinks maybe he’s gonna owe you a shirt for throwing up on you. 

“i love you,” the words are quiet, as if it’s a secret meant to be kept between him and the stars. 

“I love you,” you whisper back, the moonlight kissing your flushed cheeks before your lover does. satoru doesn’t mind, taking a second to admire you before he’s placing his palms on your cheeks and bringing you in for a kiss.

the dark blue expanse of the night sky looks plain in comparison to the love filled, blue of satoru’s eyes. you’re sure you can see stars of his own gleaming in his eyes.

your love for satoru grew into something that you could imagine would resemble an sky: immeasurable.

satoru’s love for you grew into something he could imagine resembling the ocean: seemingly endless.

he thought it was some miracle he bumped into you that fated morning. constantly thanking his past self for finally checking out the cafe on that street. he wonders what would’ve happened if he’d gone his usual way, if he hadn’t spent an extra minute cooing at the cafe cat after he’d gotten his order. 

he can feel fate watching over the two of you and smiling as you place the last box on the floor of his house. not just his anymore, yours too now. 

“i can't believe you finally agreed to move in with me” he smiles, easily grabbing your waist and pressing his lips to yours, the same taste of mint and honey filling your senses. “finally gonna feel like home here” he mumbles, his lips still softly pressed against yours. 

“I’m only moving in because-” you begin, satoru pressing his lips against yours to shut you up. 

“ ‘cause your roommate is moving out yeah yeah” he groans, placing a kiss on your nose before letting you go, “you know it’s okay to admit you’d been wanting to move in after you came over the first time” a small pout on his glossy lips as you stare at him. 

“with a place like this and a roommate like you who wouldn’t wanna live here” you hum, walking towards the couch and letting yourself flop down, breathing out a deep sigh and smiling. 

satoru is quick to join you, scooping you up and wiggling himself next to you, placing half of your body on his before letting out a happy sigh. 

home. 

“what should we have for dinner in our new home?” you can feel the vibrations of his words on his chest, moving a bit to get a bit more comfortable. 

“you mean my new home? you’ve lived here for years already” you laugh, craning your neck to stare up at your lover.

“it didn’t feel like home,” the words come easily to him, “not without you here” he says, cheeks rosy as he speaks. and while it wasn’t uncommon for him to voice his affections, it was rare for the words to come out with no teasing lilt to them, but instead laced with genuine emotion. 

our home. 

somehow the couch manages to fit the two of you, a mess of limbs and blankets as the rain continues to pour outside, the hot chocolate on the coffee table is cold and the marshmallows long gone. the credits are rolling on the movie you’d put on, and the only thing waking the two of you is the clap of thunder shaking your windows. 

satoru grips you a bit tighter as he jolts awake, looking at you before he’s fully awake and looking around. 

“did we fall asleep?” his voice is raspy, rubbing his eyes a bit and laying his head back on the pillow when you hum in response. he’s frowning when he feels you crawl off of him, staring at you as you turn the tv off and stand up. 

“let’s go to bed” you mumble, holding your hand out and grabbing his, tugging slightly. “your neck is gonna hurt in the morning if you sleep like that and I’ll be the one hearing your complaints.” 

there’s no real irritation behind your words, and the look on your face gives that away. 

“yeah but you’d still baby me all day if it did” he yawned, smiling when you roll your eyes at him, walking away from the couch. satoru whines a bit, getting up quickly and sweeping you off your feet to carry you to bed. 

he places you down gently, mumbling something about how comfortable he was, only smiling when you’re both under the covers and wrapped in each other's arms. 

you let the soft patter of the rain against the windows lull the two of you sleep, whispers of sweet nothings and ‘i love you’s’ lost between claps of thunder and flashes of lightning. 

your love was as comforting and calm as the blue rain easing his mind to sleep, every stroke of his hair making his eyelids heavier and heavier. 

the blue and white flowers look beautiful, you think, taking a deep breath before staring down the aisle. 

“ready?” your friend asks you, the same who helped you type texts out and save you from missing extra credit. you only nod, the butterflies in your stomach growing exponentially with every step you take. 

despite the array of pastels and the people smiling at you, all you see is blue. 

the blue sky shining down on you, smiling widely at satoru whose eyes are landing on you immediately. his blue eyes watering a bit, he’s wondering how he managed to get so lucky. 

your love for satoru is blue, in the same way the blue sky is boundless and the rain is comforting and calming. 

satoru’s love for you was blue, in the same way the ocean was endless and unpredictable. 

and as you’re staring into his pretty blue eyes, you smile at him, giggling a bit. 

“what’s so funny? you planning on objecting?” he whispers, a smile on his face as you shake your head. 

“blue” you whisper back, smiling as his face turns into one of confusion, “my favorite colors blue.” 

the reality of it all hits satoru at once, and he’s swept back to years ago, with you bumping into him one fated morning, a whirlwind of events following and leading the two of you here. 

“and mine is still the color of your eyes” he mumbles, instinctively leaning in for a kiss, being brought to reality when you elbow him lightly. 

“can’t you wait a couple more minutes? we’re about to get married” you giggle, trying to not take away attention from the current speaker.

“I'll wait forever if it means I have you” he whispers, “and i'll let you spill coffee on all my shirts,” he smiles, watching the way your face flushes as the two of you stand. 

“you're so annoying” you grin, taking out your vows as you look at him, a soft smile on his face as the paper in his hands shake lightly. 

what relief i also found my favorite color in your eyes, you think, smiling as the ceremony continues on.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @anarosextodo @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[chrysalis-thestateofchange]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ── | “Snapped” | ── *•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊

Characters // Atlas (he/him), Wren (they/them)

Atlas surveys the streets below, sure he must be dreaming.

Taking up the entire back wall of the hotel room is a long, shiny floor-to-ceiling window.

A window.

He can’t remember the last time he’d seen one. The warehouse, despite its many floors and levels, didn’t have any. Not ones that led outside, anyway. And definitely not ones as grand as this one. It was nothing but the same steel-gray walls along every hallway, stretching on endlessly, inescapable no matter what room you turned into. His bedroom had been like that too: four bare, gray walls, not a single window in sight.

But here — here he can see it all.

The darkened streets stretch out below him, bustling with cars and people. It isn’t as crowded here as it had been when he’d first drove with Wren this morning, less people around to watch. Still… It’s beautiful.

Outside. He can really see outside.

Wren’s van sits out in front of them in the parking lot, the pale white of the paint glistening from the streetlight overhead. Wren had slid into the parking lot only fifteen minutes prior, flashing a sleek credit card in his direction, proclaiming it was for “emergencies only”, before leading him inside the hotel. It’s a nicer place than the rest of the buildings he’s seen today — much cleaner than the McDonalds — with shiny elevators and smooth marble floors, a few people bustling around in the hallways; kids and adults alike, smiling and laughing with each other. 

Now settled in their hotel room, he can spot a few men gathered on the corner of the street, little wisps of smoke drifting up into the night air around them from their cigarettes. They’re laughing loudly, throwing their heads back, mouths spread out in a grin. Atlas wonders what it’s like, to laugh like that.

He stands there in silence, simply taking it all in, eyes flickering towards every person that passes by on the street, to every car in the distance. They are all but blurs of colour in the darkness of the night, the illumination of streetlights casting a dull glow over everything, the lights from nearby shops slowly starting to flicker off as the day falls to a close.

Atlas is pulled away from the serene view at Wren’s eyes on him.

They look up at him from their spot criss-crossed on the floor, face curious as he meets their gaze. They pat the spot beside them, expectantly waiting for him to sit.

He hesitates for a moment, scanning their expression for any hint of hostility. He still isn’t sure what to think of them. They’re brash and rude — not to mention stupid — but then again, they’d genuinely tried to help him, hadn’t they? Slowly, he obliges, taking the seat next to them.

Wren fixes their gaze back onto the street below, pressing their forehead into the glass. “How old are you?”

Atlas bristles at the question. “You first.”

All day they’d been asking things like this, trying to… get information out of him. He guesses it’s what anyone would do, he is a practical stranger, after all. But a part of him can’t help but feel on guard at it. He isn’t supposed to tell people about himself, isn’t supposed to give anything away. Especially to someone from outside of Eden. Though, he guesses, he isn’t a part of Eden anymore either, is he? Those rules don’t apply to him anymore.

Not after he left them.

Wren sighs, but for once doesn’t push, instead opting for answering his deflection. “Fine asshole. I’m fourteen.”

Atlas falls quiet at their answer, weighing his options. Eden’s rules don’t technically apply to him anymore, but that doesn’t mean he really cares about Wren, either. It isn’t like they’ve ever been nice to him before now. Still, it isn’t like he’s going to gain anything from being so prudent with them. And telling them his age can’t be that bad….

“I’m fifteen.” He relents.

Their head jerks towards him at his answer, eyes going wide in shock as they mumble, “You’re just a kid.”

Atlas’ gaze doesn’t leave the window, his face still a perfect mask of calm, the only movement coming from him being his eyes as they scan the different buildings outside. “I’m older than you.” He points out.

Wren clicks their tongue loudly and shrugs, tearing their face away from the window again to glance at him. “Yeah. I’m a kid too.”

Atlas focuses on a particular car — a deep maroon in colour, with a dent in the side, little chips along the paint. He places all his attention on it, taking nice, even breaths, holding back his urge to scream at them. He’s never felt so miserable, so helplessly alone, in his entire life. “My age doesn’t matter.” He responds, voice clipped. So just shut the fuck up already.

Wren rolls their eyes, huffing out a breath of frustration. “Yeah. Did they tell you that too? Did they tell you it doesn’t matter that you’re a literal kid?”

Atlas stiffens. “That’s none of your concern.”

Wren sighs and leans back on their hands, still staring out the window. “Fine, whatever.” They go silent for a long moment before a thought suddenly occurs to them. “What’s your name? Do you have a name?” They ask, glancing back towards him.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” He says coldly, unable to hold the exasperation from leaking into his voice. Wren seems to have that sort of effect on him; he never feels quite so defensive or angry as he does when he’s around them.

Wren huffs, sagging forwards and resting their forehead upon the glass once again. They seem unable to sit still for more than a minute, constantly fidgeting and moving around. Atlas has never found something quite so irritating. “Look, I know you don’t like me. That’s fine. But we can’t do anything unless you trust me a little. At least enough to give me your name.”

“I don’t need to give you anything.” Atlas replies rigidly. He decides that he in fact isn’t going to tell them anything. He’s out of Eden now, so that means he can choose. There are no rules against that, not anymore. And Wren is definitely not his superior. He likes it better this way. That way they can’t use anything against him. That way he still has the slight upper hand.

Wren lets out a long, hard sigh, rocking for a minute before flopping all the way back, lying flat on the scratchy carpet. “Okay. Whatever.” They mumble, closing their eyes.

Atlas doesn’t move.

Wren thumps their feet on the floor rhythmically, disturbing Atlas’ peace. “Fine, I don’t need to know your name. Do you have a favourite colour?” They ask, glancing towards his hair, a shaggy mullet with burgundy streaks littering throughout it. “Is it red?”

“Is yours blue?” Atlas counters, still annoyingly refusing to answer any of their questions. He can’t stand it — can’t stand sitting here, with them, can’t stand their constant chattering. He wants to be at the warehouse, with Cato, with Ira; wants to be in his dorm room, curled up on his cozy bed. Wants to be training, the familiar feeling of his staff in his hands, strength surging through his core. He wants to be at home.

You left that, remember? He chides himself. That isn’t your home, not anymore.

“Very clever. Did you figure that all on your own?” Wren asks, pulling him from his thoughts.

“It doesn’t take a genius.” He grunts, not once glancing toward them to meet their gaze.

“Sarcasm.” They mutter. “You dye it yourself?” They gesture vaguely towards his hair.

Atlas answers with nothing but a curt nod, hand subconsciously raising to fiddle with his hair, a dark red strand twirling around his fingers. 

“Me too. I’ve spent too much money on box dye.”

Atlas hums. He still remembers with perfect clarity the first time Ira came over with box dye and helped him with his hair — almost as if it was just yesterday.

He had been twelve. She’d swung into his dorm room with a small grin, waving the box around like it was pure gold. It had been, to him. He remembers, up until then, he’d barely even had belongings to himself. No books beside his textbooks, no notebooks or paper besides the ones supplied to him for his lessons. No souvenirs, no nothing. His room had genuinely been bare. Just a bed and a small desk pushed into the corner. Wren had commented on the absolute emptiness of his room, but it was nothing compared to back then.

So when Ira had offered to dye his hair, he’d been over-the-moon. For as long as he could remember, her hair was always done up in some interesting way. A streak of colour, or ombré, or jaggedly cut in a way that Atlas wished he could pull off. He remembers how excitement coursed through his bones as she helped him chop off his ordinary, plain black locks for the shaggy mullet that he then kept for the past three years. That pure, child-like excitement… it was the best feeling in the entire world.

Wren doesn’t take his lack of a response as a sign he isn’t in the mood for a conversation, simply continuing to talk. They might as well be talking to themself, for all that it matters. “The first time I dyed my hair, I bleached it without instructions. It was so bad, it started falling out of my head.”

Atlas still doesn’t react, simply winding his hair around his finger, over and over and over again. Its soothing, almost. Something to focus on. 

Wren continues. “I had a big bald spot on the side of my head for the entire first part of 6th grade. My mom bought me this hair growth stuff for bald guys. Didn’t work at all.”

Atlas doesn’t give them a second of his attention. He stares out the window, watching out into the streets below, half-forgetting to blink. He wants to be out on those streets, walking. Free. It has never been a thought he admitted — not in full extent — but out of everything in the entire universe, that has always been his dream. To go out, by himself, no watchful eye of his commander or the judgemental gaze of a scrawny insufferable rebel. Just him and the quiet of the night, the chill of the breeze cooling the back of his neck. Calm, contented peace. 

Wren’s gaze doesn’t leave him as they sit up, scooting closer to his side. “Hey…?” They ask, leaning over slightly and waving their hand in front of his face. 

“Hm?” Atlas hums, his piercing gaze falling upon them. This is the closest they’ve dared get to him, only inches apart. “What is it?”

Wren furrows their brows at him. “You went all zombie on me.”

“I was listening.” Atlas says dismissively. What he really wants to say to them is “shut up, I do not want to talk to you right now, or ever, for that matter”, but he holds his tongue. He wants to do many things — shove Wren away from him, scream at them, beat their annoying face until it’s black and blue, run away from them and never come back — but that does not mean that he can actually do them. He’s stuck with Wren, as much as he hates it, so the best he can do is try to tolerate them. For now.

Wren frowns but shrugs, brushing past it. “Okay.” They say, leaning away to resume their position of resting their forehead against the window, letting out a heavy exhale as they do so. “Is there anything you want to know about me?”

Atlas focuses his attention back upon the window, watching outside in silence for a second. If he was to be honest, he’d say that he really couldn’t care less if Wren told him anything about themself. But he knows that’s not what they want to hear. “Whatever you would like to tell me.” He says with the slightest of shrugs. We are not friends. He thinks. And we will never be friends. There’s nothing you can do or say that will ever change my mind on that.

Wren rolls their eyes with a loud and dramatic groan. “That’s not how this works. I’ve told you plenty and you won’t even respond.” They say, shooting him a scowl.

Atlas hums. “What would you like me to say?” There’s a reason I didn’t answer, you dunce.

“I dunno man. Usually you’re supposed to acknowledge what someone’s saying.” They say with another loud huff. “Whatever, you get a free pass because you got brainwashed.”

Don’t fucking speak to me like that.  

“I’m not brainwashed.” Atlas mutters, side-eying them.  

Wren clicks their tongue and scoffs. “I’m not saying it’s your fault or anything, but you kind of are man.”

Atlas scowls. You’re a naive, stupid child that thinks they know everything because they managed to steal a few fucking files. You’ll never amount to even a sliver of what I am right now, even if you spent your entire life trying. Pull your head out of your fucking ass.

“You don’t know anything about me. Stop acting like you do.” 

Atlas’ words only cause Wren to shrug. “I mean, I knew a lot more than you.” They point out matter-of-factly.

Atlas is so sick of Wren’s constant comments, their know-all attitude. Their audacity. All he’s had to deal with this entire day is their snarky quips, poking and prodding, rubbing salt into his sore wounds.

He should’ve known better. They’re a rebel, after all. Rebels are cruel, apathetic. Why would they care about what he’s lost, what he’s sacrificed, leaving with them? A homeless middle schooler with a clunky, dirty van that barely operates on its own. And he’s supposed to just be grateful, accept their treatment with the same grace he always holds. 

They don’t have a single clue about what his life was like, the hardship and struggles he’s had to endure. They don’t know how much he gave away, just to join their shitty little grandiose delusion of “revolution”. They make him sick.

Fuck, I’m so tired. 

He gives them a hard glare. “No, you didn’t.”

Wren narrows their eyes at him, giving him a skeptical glance before sighing. “What-ever.”

This finally snaps Atlas’ resolve.

It isn’t their dismissal that does it, more an accumulation of the last day. He should know better than this, should know better than to snap at them like he does, but suddenly the burning anger that has been boiling, slow and steady, in his chest all day is exploding out of him, hot as flames. Unrestrained.

“I hate you.” He spits, whipping around to glare down at them with pure hatred shining in his eyes. “At least Eden treated me kindly. At least I belonged.” His voice shakes, emotion slipping through in a way it hasn’t in — he doesn’t even know how long. Years? A decade? Forever? “At least I wasn’t stuck with an insolent child.”

His words come out quick and sharp, a part of him almost too scared to even say them. He can’t remember ever speaking out against someone in his entire life. He isn’t supposed to — it’s against the rules. He’s supposed to keep his feelings in check; a soldier who can’t keep control over themself is as good to Eden as a ticking time bomb. Soldiers are polite. Soldiers are obedient. Soldiers don’t voice their own opinions. Soldiers don’t have opinions — don’t have emotions. For all of his life, he has been this: The perfect soldier.

But what had that gotten him in the end?

“You don’t know anything about what it was like.” He says coldly. He has to admit to himself, actually voicing what he’s been thinking the entire day…. It feels kind of good.

Wren’s eyes widen slightly, a look of shock that gives Atlas the slightest hint of satisfaction evident on their features. They slowly tilt their head up to look at him again, the words hanging lowly in the air between them, turning the atmosphere thick with tension.

Finally, Wren breaks the dreadful silence. “Yeah, I get it.” They say, pausing for a moment, as if they were for once going to put in a sliver of thought before they spit out some crude insult at him. “I don’t expect you to like me. And I don’t really care if you do.”

Their face is calm, voice even as they speak. It feels as if they are addressing an explosive child, not a boy who has spent the last fifteen years of his life carefully pushing down his true feelings for what matters, who always does what he’s told without questions, who works and works and works. Who doesn’t know what it’s like to experience true relaxation — true peace.

“I may not know what it was like,” they say, the slightest bit of exasperation in their voice. “But I know what would’ve happened if you stayed.”

It’s like a slap to the face. Atlas pales, the thought of the files — the videos; the horrific images of torture, torture that he would’ve endured, torture that Eden had been doing on its own soldiers for years — causing his mouth to instantly snap shut.

The smug feeling dissipates just as fast as it comes. There is no rebuttal to their statement. Although he never would admit to it, both he and Wren know that they are right. What had been waiting for him after today….

He doesn’t even want to think about it.

In one swift movement, Atlas jumps to his feet. His hands are shaking as he roughly turns on his heel, stalking out of the room and making a beeline for the bathroom. For the first time in his life, he feels the careful control he has over his emotions slip through his fingers, anger burning in his chest fiery hot, flushing his cheeks red.

He fucking hates it here.

The door slams behind him with a sharp bang.

He is shaking as he enters the bathroom, his entire body trembling, the weight he’s been holding upon his shoulders for too long finally cracking away at his perfectly poised exterior, slipping him under the waves of unconstrained emotions he has tried so hard to dull. His control is dissipating faster than he can manage, the short rapid breaths through his nose doing nothing to cool the fury within him. 

The stress of the past 24 hours — no, the entire past month — have taken their hold on him, sending him spiraling down a well of no return. He is untethered, boundless, suffocating in the infinite unknown of space. And there is not that usual rough calloused hand to pull him back to safety, reassurances of warmth and belonging easing him back to reality. 

His reflection glares back at him, only inches away. The boy in the mirror is a shameful thing, cheeks all blotchy and red, flushed by his rage; eyes glassy and tinged with tears, squinting with a determined will to force them back; his chest is heaving, uncontrollable gasps slipping from his lips. 

He hates it. 

He hates all of it. He hates the perfectly tidy bathroom, too similar to Eden, with its sparse toiletries, carefully unordinary, and pale gray walls, no decorations adorning them. Too similar to what he left behind — what he’s missing so desperately. 

He hates not knowing what he’s supposed to do, how he’s supposed to act. Before today he had every single second in every single minute carefully and methodically planned out, his whole future set in stone, just waiting for him to arrive. And now he is lost, his plans of a picture-perfect future set aflame, all notions of normalcy or structure crumbling to ash with it. He is a nobody, with nothing to his name.

Useless. He’s fucking useless.

He hates these new emotions swirling up inside of him. He hates being so fucking angry, every breath of air igniting his insides, erasing this perfect persona he has crafted so delicately for himself. He hates this new life, hates this stupid smartass kid who thinks they know better than he does, thinks they’re somehow greater and better because they didn’t get roped up into a corporation like Eden, didn’t fall for the sweet-as-honey lies, the manipulated comforts. He hates living in a van, hates having no home. 

But most of all….

He hates himself. 

· · ───────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ───────── · ·

“I was gonna shower, asshole.” 

Wren stares at the closed bathroom door with a scowl. The boy has shut himself in there and it looks like he’s not going to come out anytime soon. Great. Just what they needed. 

They sigh, standing up and flopping back onto the bed with a groan, their body limp. The mattress bounces underneath their weight, creaking in rhythm. The blankets are smooth, though not cozy and gentle like the ones they have back at home, impossibly soft to the touch. But they’ll do, much more comforting than their worn-down sleeping bag rolled up in the van, which is much overdue for a wash. 

They stare up at the ceiling, eyes bleary from exhaustion. It is in this quietness, a sort of rest washing over them for the first time all day without the boy’s tense presence to bother them, that the realization dawns on them that they haven’t really slept properly at all in weeks. At Eden they were on constant alert, left with the choice of camping out in their van half a mile off-grounds or cloaking themself somewhere ambiguous, body forced into a small, impossibly cramped crawl space no one would think to search. And this morning they woke up far too early for their own liking, the boy’s piercing violet gaze disrupting their dreams. 

They groan, turning their head towards the bathroom door. The water isn’t even running. “Hey,” they call out. “You gonna shower? Or can I?” 

They wait and the air is left brimming with tension as silence stretches out, no response coming from the other side of the door. “Hello?” 

The sound of slight shuffling is the only noise they can catch. 

They frown, sliding off the bed and going to stand in front of the door; their eyebrows furrowed, mouth pulled taut. “Dude, you good?” They ask, voice louder this time, fist brought down in a light knock. 

An explosion of fury booms from behind the door, ripping the next words from Wren’s tongue. 

“SHUT UP!” The boy screams, unbridled rage cracking his voice. It is deafening, hitting Wren with a truckload of emotion that has evidently been pushed down for far longer than he’s capable of withstanding. It's a violent kind of rage, one that’s dangerous to get caught up in. A stark contrast to the quiet and polite attitude from before — Wren is almost unsure if it came from him. “FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE.”

Wren flinches slightly at his outburst, the anger coming unexpected. Their eyes are wide and they are still for a moment, lips parted slightly. Shit. 

With a sigh, they turn away from the door. If he wanted to be left alone, then Wren would leave him alone. That bursting, uncontrollable anger is one they are all too familiar with. It’s no use in trying to comfort him, they’ve never been very good at that anyway. They’re sure their presence is only making his breakdown worse.

They turn and shuffle through their bag, pulling out a pair of large sweatpants and a t-shirt. They carry it to the door before dropping it in front of it wordlessly, and returning to sit on the bed. 

The bathroom is quiet for a second, so quiet that Wren thinks the boy has calmed down. They listen out for any further sound, and it’s at that moment that a large crash cuts through their hotel room. There’s a deafening bang, the sound of smashing glass shattering from behind the closed door. Wren gasps as a series of muffled thumps follow, clattering and clanging alerting them of the destruction reigned upon the bathroom. 

The sound of running water hisses from the tap and Wren grimaces, wiping at their face, their exhaustion settling in. They kick off their shoes, curling up under the covers. This should have been expected. 

They can shower tomorrow. 

Masterlist || Previous || Next

taglist \\ @ohagiwrites @oros-ash3s @bloodinkandashes @corinneglass @icantthinkofablognameatm @vesanal @inky-anathemata @bioniclechronicles @seastarblue @gr3yhellh0und @aalinaaaaaa @shadow-of-tea-and-tea @robinshandhurts @ieppiq @sugaredparchment @lunaeuphternal @ifmasonbasonwasawriter @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @blackboxwarrior-mkultra @lancedoncrimsonwings @sharkblizzardblogs @nightmaricwriter @scoundrelwithboba @cepheusgalaxy @cacophonyofwords @theink-stainedfolk @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @write-with-will

★ Send an ask or dm to be added or removed from the taglist ★

A big thanks to @ohagiwrites for helping me write this chapter ⋆˚࿔

─ O.A. .ᐟ

[vampirzina]

Could you do MK11 Fujin and MK1 Syzoth with a reader who has piercings on her tongue and eyebrow?

tw: she/her (but mostly you) pronouns, mdni, sfw (intended), established relationship, hcs, piercings and the like

notes: i didn’t put a header for this just in case. i also had been racking my brain for fujin content after seeing an edit of him w the caption asking for fic content. i’ll think of more ideas later i swear but for now happy happy happy

masterlist : divider credit

Fujin isn’t a stranger to piercings, at all. He’s seen plenty of them in his time, in all kinds of places—so not the one to judge if she has one either. Fujin finds the piercing on your eyebrow rather cool, having noticed that first about you but doesn’t ask anything about it. But when you stick your tongue playfully out at him once, he can’t help but ask about both of your piercings.

When kisses with Fujin get deep, he tries not to make it obvious that he’s fiddling with your tongue piercing. Not only is it fun, but he loves your reaction when you finally realize. His face is already flushed from the act, but the cheeky smirk he gives you in return makes you playfully huff at him.

Naturally, thoughts wander through Fujin. Though they are mostly innocent, none of them really see the light (carried into the wind rather), out of respect for her, to spare her from the littlest bits of selfishness, and the tiny tiny part of him that fears her response to him—even if it’s not a bad one at all. He rather not play russian roulette with words.

،، ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Fujin, tangled in the sheets of your shared bed and awaiting you there, watches you at the vanity as you undid your look. You rub the tip of your index over the slightly sore spot of your undone eyebrow piercing, hissing lowly.

Your eyes hurt from today’s work, and all you wanted to do now was just… Rest. You couldn’t not address the white eyes boring into your face, however.

“Before you ask, I’m fine,” you retort, clasping the piercing together. You set it with the rest of your collection. “Just tired.”

“I’d believe you even if you told me that your skin was as colorful as a rainbow, when it is clearly not,” he jested lightly, and you missed the way his eyes flit to your lips. “I was not going to speak. I just wanted to… Look.”

“The right word is stare, I think, but if that’s what you’re doing to me I’ll take it,” you stood, strutting over to the bedside. Before you got in, “You look like you have a question.”

He hummed a bit. Then, “None.”

“You sure?” you lift the very same brow he’d been staring at, getting comfortable beside him, but suddenly your gaze hardens. “Wait, don’t tell me. If we’re getting married, don’t you dare propose right now.”

Fujin gives the heartiest laugh you’ve heard from him yet, leaning down to barrage you with kisses as he gets comfortable with you.

───

Fujin needs to kiss you at least once a day.

Syzoth doesn’t think anything of it until he really sees it. He notices it when he’s close to her, cuddling into warmth to duck from the cold night. Maybe it’s his wandering mind as he gets tired, but to say he’s intrigued in it in its entirety is a bit of an understatement from him. If anything, he finds that he likes it on her. Of course he asks about it when you wake, and he feels a bit stupid for not asking earlier. Syzoth asks why and how bad it hurt, and that’s about it. If you’re human, he learns something new when you tell him about the commonality of it between humans.

Kissing Syzoth is an experience you couldn’t get over. Unlike Fujin, he doesn’t toy with your tongue piercing on purpose, but he’s going to brush over it a couple times if the kiss gets all that heated. He’s conscious of himself and many things after that, but surprisingly enough, your piercing there makes him feel a little less conscious of his tongue when he kisses you.

Syzoth offers you jewelry for your piercings. He’s sure somewhere in Outworld and beyond there’s those who sell such things, sometimes he even confuses earrings for them. But once he finds the right stuff, it’s nearly impossible for him to not buy up the entire store. He loves to collect the shiniest and prettiest ones he thinks you’ll like, and occasionally the ones he thinks you would look good with. Syzoth comes home with at least a pair of either or once every few weeks.

،، ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

He finds you where he left her—under a tree in the shade from the sun. She sipped the cool drink as she admired the scenery of the place around her.

You’d been wandering with Syzoth through the markets of Outworld for your morning and the better half of your afternoon. Your feet ached, you complained, and being the gentleman Syzoth is carried you here. He said that you’d both go home soon… However, he wasn’t going until he snuffed out the urge by just giving into it.

“About time. I was starting to think you were halfway across the realm. Where’d you run off to?” you squinted in the soft breeze, lips pursing a bit as you watch him fumble with the bag he was trying to give you.

…You look inside.

“I didn’t buy the whole store this time,” Syzoth pouted from her months-old tease. “With the way they were presented to me, they practically begged me to buy them. Not only that, but they were so you-esque. How could you want me to resist?”

“Because I’d like to think you’d want to buy food to eat, Sy,” you joked, holding them in a hand to inspect them. You can see the way he pouts further, if you somehow couldn’t hear him mutter.

“‘M kidding. Do you think that I’m so ungrateful when I was lucky enough to find you?” you immediately follow up to put him at ease. “They’re absolutely gorgeous, Syzoth. Thank you. I’ll try them on when we get home, okay?”

Syzoth, a bit hot in the face now from her flirt, nodded fervently at her. Whether or not she wanted to be carried wasn’t up for debate.

───

Syzoth scours beaches and caves for beautiful material someone can craft into jewelry for you.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

info board

[snapscube]

i am curious, with infinite wealth, do you think some of the more emotional things with kiryu had a different effect than if you'd been more familiar with his games? asking because i saw some people say IW is a great introduction to him as a character, but i've played all of them up to that point.

oh almost certainly!!! i will say, basically the entire first half of the game is almost purely focused on ichiban in a way i found extremely comforting as a newcomer. so knowledge of kiryu's full journey is not at ALL required for a very large portion of playtime, HOWEVER there is a threshold point where suddenly they start to really give his history the spotlight and at that point i could tell that there was a lot that would Hit Different if i had played games prior. HOWEVER, in defense of playing this game without that context and with credit where it's due, RGG does a really consistently good job not only filling in necessary exposition when required JUST enough to get you over the finish line if you don't have everything committed to memory or you're just new... but ALSO a lot of the emotional beats were just kinda universally recognizable for me? there's a lot i was able to put together either through bits and pieces of pre-7 titles i HAD seen, or even just through context clues based on the dialogue i was presently hearing/reading and general familiarity with character archetypes. i can NOT say that i experience Infinite Wealth with the FULL WEIGHT that it can potentially have, but i CAN say that i don't feel like my experience was COMPROMISED. i still cried like 6 times in the whole second half of its runtime haha, it's really emotionally powerful and a lot of its themes stand alone just fine.

[ask-alien-hunter-au]

Welcome!

This is the official askblog for the II x BFDI Alien Hunter au!

A short rundown is MePhone4 is an alien hunter made by Cobs looking to redeem himself to his creator. With his team (the II contestants), they look for new aliens to capture and end up finding the Algebraliens.

So this is basically an II/BFDI crossover!

You can send asks to basically any contestant in either show, but the main characters/the ones I've fleshed out the most so far are:

any host/co-host (Including the Announcer)

OJ, Paper and Taco

Paintbrush, Test Tube, Fan and Lightbulb

Knife, Suitcase, Baseball, Nickel and Balloon

Yin-Yang, Microphone, Trophy

Death PACT members (including DPA and DPYA)

Firey, Leafy, Pin and Coiny

Winner, Clock and Loser

Golfball and Tennisball

There are NO II season 3 contestants yet! They aren't here, but they will be later!

Ships in this au (for now):

Twophone (the main focus)

4x

Payjay

The brightest lights (idk what they're called. They're in some funky unspoken polycule basically)

Knickle

Toipad

Fireafy

Coinpin

Freesmart (also a strange unspoken polycule)

Winnerclock

Astrobiology

qpr golfball/tennisball

Ask rules, further au details and about the creator are all under the cut!

Ask rules (Currently open!):

PLSPLS SPECIFY WHO YOU'RE ASKING THE QUESTION TO. I'M KINDA DUMB SO CLARIFICATION IS NEEDED

Don't ask weird things - use your common sense.

No donation asks please! This blog is for the au specifically

Don't ask about the MePhone making the contestants or try and give these guys an identity crisis /silly

Think of yourselves like interviewers or bystanders talking to these characters (or don't. Doesn't matter too much)

Please be patient! I want to try and include art when answering asks, so it'll take me a while

If your ask is a spoiler or something I can't answer at the moment for whatever reason, I'll either just ignore it or answer saying that.

As long as its credited, any fanworks are fine! You can also tag me in them or send them in /nf, I'd love to see them! /gen

Do note that I may answer things out of order. Ones that are just text may be answered first because they're easier. Ones that I'm making art for will typically take longer.

On the topic of adding art, that's a random choice of mine. If I feel like it fits the ask, I'll add it. If it's not necessary, I probably won't

More au details (this will be updated as time goes on):

Cobs created the Meeple products to hunt down and capture other alien life for him to use - what for, no one really knows. MePhone4 was once a great hunter, but his recklessness and disobedience led him to fail too many missions and get kicked out. He was told that he could return when he brings Cobs new aliens and proves himself. So MePhone4 goes to some old friends - the contestants from a tournament he held a year ago. With them, he starts a new tournament to train his own team and show Cobs he's one of the best damn hunters he ever made.

And his plan is working... that is, until he comes across the Algebraliens, a kind of alien he can't beat...

About the creator!

Hello everyone, I'm Laricina! I use he/she pronouns.

My main account is @larix-laricina, I post a lot of OSC art and stuff, as well as AvA/M, mostly. Updates about this au will also be posted there.

Please keep in mind that I am a minor, so no inappropriate asks or anything. I'm also a student working on this in my free time, so it may take me a while to answer some things. I'm only one person.

(exam season is also coming up, so if I disappear in January, assume that's why)

You can also ask me things if you'd like, or if you have questions about the au, I'll answer those too! (like if you wanna ask me about the lore or smth) I may have little creator notes at the end of asks, so I'll just mark those as "Laricina" or just as "notes" so you know it's me yapping.

I have a lot planned for this au, and I'm also gonna be posting it on ao3 (the series name is the same as the blog name), but writing normally takes me a bit, so I made this blog! Hopefully you all have fun here and I hope you enjoy the story :]

[unwashed-laundry]

lalaᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

I planned to post this on @unwashed-dishes but her blog is not Desmond ASMR focused so I'm taking a step back from writing and just doing a more edited post here instead

ꪆৎMy Unpopular (since no one asked) opinions about Desmond ASMR:

(this is just my personal opnions and not some rage bait pls dont send de♥︎th threats)

-Baroness x Castin is a TAD bit overrated I mean its most likely everyone first series with Desmond but cmon...just a TAD bit

-Half the ML's don't deserve their listener based on the shit they said or did

-Just cause he's fine doesn't mean he's right

-I hate Prince Renae and Tigress they just feel boring to me

-I don't believe in mischaractization in this fandom even exist cause Desmond himself has proven to change a character in a NICK of time if the plot depends on it (COUGH chapter 5 part 2 COUGH)

-I wouldn't trust Castin at a bacholer party...dare I say I won't trust Rhett either

-Desmond needs to stop having favoritism with Castin

-The patreon is not worth never was till Desmond post

-Keep Warren to yourself...I wouldn't want a man to LIE to me COUNTLESS TIME (god ill throw hands)

-Queen Ascendant is cute but actually horrible friend to Baroness, setting your friend up with a infamous sl♥︎t like Castin on a whim

-Rhett is a bad king btw

-Also I don't condome Wajid x VP (cheating isnt pretty no matter how much excuses one can throw)

-"Stuck in Jaintor closet"series is underrated honestly

-Gang!Desmond x Gorgesous is UNDERHATED

-Ladies and gentlemen, don't lower yourself for anyone or some d♥︎ck/p♥︎ssy, it's never worth it (thats for every listener)

-The Queen has Stockholm Syndrome by definition and vice versa to Rhett like lets ADDRESS IT

-Last but not least, let give some flowers to @themonotonysyndrome, like looking back she built this fandom up from the DRY dirt it was on with her fanfics and engagment

( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

Credit for dividers:

@anitalenia

@dollywons

I can't pump out another more honestly but if you gave me a prompt of AT LEAST one of these than I'll go on ranting ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

so think of this as those little converstation starters or icebreakers !

Anyways bye love !!⭑⚝

[weblenaweek2024]

Weblena Week 2024 Prompts!

The Prompts for this year are:

Day 1 (June 17th): Crushing Hard - 2nd Kiss

Day 2 (June 18th): Surprise Hug - Teasing

Day 3 (June 19th): Day to Day - Years Later

Day 4 (June 20th): Star Gazing - Burger Date

Day 5 (June 21st): Adventuring Together - Dance at the Amphitheatre

Day 6 (June 22nd): Magic Sleepover - Casting a Spell Together

Day 7 (June 23rd): Free Day - Remix Day

You're open to picking and choosing what days or prompts you want to do! You may do only one or you may do all of them if you're up to it! Don't force yourself to do every day if you don't have time or don't want to!

Info and guidelines, please follow them for a great week!

Whatever medium! Drawings, Stories, Poems, Music, Edits, etc. Let your imagination flow, just have it relate to the ship and themes!

Anyone can participate! Regardless of skill level, presence, etc. This is an event held for fun!

Smaller injuries and small amounts of blood are fine, but anything excessive, hate speech, political, nsfw, etc are not allowed under ANY circumstances.

No Ai. It has to be your work, unless you're posting it on behalf of someone and you have their permission.

Tag us and please either use #Weblena Week 2024 or #Weblena Week within your first 5 tags. This is not mandatory but your work might not get reblogged if you don't follow this. Alternatively, you can send us a message before/during the event and tell us when to post it and the chosen prompt!

Only works posted on Tumblr will be reblogged. However, you can link one of your other works on a different site! Alternatively, you can contact us and have us post the work onto the blog for you and give you the proper credit!

We ask of you to post the works on time, but we will try to reblog any early or late works! Alternatively you can contact us and ask us to post your work on the day of the prompt!

Each prompt will have its dedicated hashtag! We recommend using this hashtag when posting, so it's easier for us and others to find the posts!

If you have any more questions you can freely ask us!

Remember to have fun and take your time! Event starts on June 17th and runs until June 23rd so you have plenty of time to polish up your works! Any likes and reblogs are extremely appreciated, please help spread the word!

[theoakleafpancake]

After the celebration had finally ended, Halt decided he’d had enough of formalities and appearances. A grand homecoming to Araluen was not what he’d wanted. Now that he had Will back, all that was left to do was to return to the little cabin in Redmont and sleep for a week straight. If it weren’t for the assembly the King called for, he’d be able to do just that.

Someone knocked on the door. He gave a final tug on the straps of his pack before heading over, heaving in a silent sigh. But when the door swung open, he was met with an unexpected face.

Well, not entirely unexpected. It was bound to happen sooner or later. He’d rather it would have been later, but alas, Fate seemed to be enjoying her time with him.

“Crowley.” He stepped aside, allowing the Ranger Commandant in the room. “I thought you’d have left by now.”

“Really?” The sandy-haired man turned to look at him. “Eleven months, and that’s the first thing you have to say.”

“Eleven and one week,” he said quietly. “And I seem to recall giving you a full report earlier. So no, that is not the first thing I have said to you.”

Crowley ran a hand through his hair. “And one week.” A breathy chuckled escaped the other man. “Do you think I haven’t been counting each day?”

He raised an eyebrow. “A Ranger Commandant has more important things to do than wait for the prodigal son to return.”

“I’m sorry.” The older Ranger reached a hand towards his arm and then faltered, those light eyes desperately seeking his. “If I could go back in time, I would change everything. I would have broken you out of prison. I would have covered it all up. No one would have ever known.”

“Having everyone know was a part of the plan.”

“But why, Halt?” His voice broke. “Why would you put us through that?”

Halt raised his eyes to the ceiling. After all this time, his friend still had the nerve to ask the same question. “I don’t give you as much credit as I should. You’re not stupid, Crowley. You know the answer.”

It was the boy. Will. He would have burned the world for his apprentice if necessity demanded it of him. He had given up his life for some cheeky, over-talkative child that had somehow become an integral part of his life. Losing Will had been like losing an arm. He could have said all this and more, but he wasn’t sure if the other Ranger would ever truly understand.

“Crowley.” He laid a land on his friend’s shoulder. “You have your loyalties and I have mine. Surely you didn’t think I’d change over the years?”

“No. I never would have expected that.” The older Ranger turned away. “You always were a stubborn one.”

“And I don’t intend on changing that. I became a Ranger to help you. Not to pledge my full allegiance to a King.”

“That’s exactly what being a Ranger is.” The silver Oakleaf felt heavy around his neck. Halt knew what the Oakleaf meant. Running away from Clonmel, he was given a second chance, and that chance had been Araluen and its Rangers. He liked Duncan a great deal more than he cared to admit—certainly the Araluan was a far better King than either him or Ferris. But against all odds, that’s just what Duncan was.

A King.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Crowley said quietly. “But it seems to me you’re doing fine in that sense.”

Halt let go of the man’s shoulder. “You thought too highly of me. That’s your mistake.”

“I think just enough of you.” The redhead sighed. “My only mistake was turning you away. I’m sorry, Halt.”

He met his friend’s eyes, and saw the pain inside them, pain he was responsible for. “I am, too.”

[httpsdana]

Alejandro Balde 130 🙏🙏 he’s so underrated

Clingy~Alejandro Balde

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

Another Ale request cause why not 😙

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

130-"Are you planned to stay glued to my side the whole day?"

y/n's job at the club of Barcelona was pretty simple but tiring at the same time. She was Xavi's assistant. Always following him around in the training sessions and in the locker rooms and around the stadium

But the best thing she loves about her job is the fact that she met Alejandro through it. They had a few disagreements when they first met, but after they hit it off, they realized that they felt attracted to each other. Soon enough, they started dating, of course, without Xavi knowing. Pedri, Gavi, Ansu, and Ferran were a few of the only people who knew about them.

They didn't mind Xavi knowing, but they didn't want him to scold them about how unprofessional what they did was.

The season was coming to an end as the team has a few more games only.

y/n was gathering some papers from her desk, taking them to Xavi so he can sign them, when Ale appeared through the door.

"holaaa mi amorr," he sang, his hands behind his back as he slowly walked into the room. He stood behind her, while she still didn't look at him focusing on the papers in her hands, he put his arms around her waist, placing his face in the crook of her neck, with small kisses on her neck

y/n gently pushed him away when she finished organizing the papers for Xavi. Alejandro whined, when she didn't spare him a single glance

"Ale I have to give those to Xavi to sign, then I'm supposed to be planning the next team meeting. and aren't you supposed to be in training?" she started walking, knowing he's gonna follow her either way

"well coach gave us a 15 minutes break so I thought I'd come and see you, but clearly the feeling isn't mutual" he said in an annoyed voice, while y/n chuckled

"I told you we're not supposed to see each other a lot. The staff won't hesitate to tell Xavi if they sensed something between us. " she was speed walking now, afraid she won't find Xavi

" Who cares? It's not like he cares if we're dating" he said, making y/n stop dead in her tracks

"I care Alejandro. I live from the money I make from this job, so please stop with the reckless behavior or else I might get fired" she started walking again, Alejandro still walking behind her too

"you know I wouldn't let that happen" he said, waving at the people who greeted him while passing by

"yes I know but you also can't do anything about it if it happened" she waved at Xavi to get his attention as he appeared in her sight

She ran to him with the papers in her hands, Alejandro too running behind her

"you've got to sign those, and then read this at home and give us your opinion. its about everything related to the new and future signings" she said

Xavi signed the papers quickly before he noticed Alejandro behind y/n

"The 15 minutes are over. Go back to the feild, Balde, " he said, nodding his head towards the team

"um actually I'm feeling a bit nauseous and I was wondering if I could leave early today?" he asked, making y/n look at him suspiciously as he was doing just fine a few minutes ago

"yeah yeah whatever. get a good sleep and take a visit to the doctor. we're winning the league tomorrow" Xavi said before walking away

y/n looked at Ale with an annoyed look, while he gave her a cheeky grin. She started walking back to her office and Ale was trailing behind her like a puppy

"Are you planned to stay glued to my side the whole day?" she asked as she noticed his presence behind her

They entered the room, y/n sitting down on the small couch she had while Alejandro locked the door

"yeah. I missed you all day and all you did was ignore me" he pouted, a desperate tone evident in his voice

y/n looked up from her laptop at his pouty face. She closed the laptop and smiled at him, as his face lit up.

She patted her lap, Alejandro lying down and placing his head on her lap, while she ran her fingers through his curls

"I missed you too love. but you know how much my job means to me and how afraid am I to lose it. how about making it up for you by dinner at mine tonight?" she suggested causing Ale to grin widely

"I'd love that thank you honey. now gimme a kiss" he puckered his lips at her. She smiled and leaned down towards him, pecking his lips a few times before settling them on each other for a while