#i did have some dumb ideas for doodles

[vonlipvig]

thinking about jack and jerry the rubbery man kissing <3

no, not in a cutesy 'aww how sweet' way, more like a 'how the fuck does that even work' way. a 'i'm not sure this is anatomically possible' way. but love is stronger than anatomy so don't worry. though it's probably a pretty slimy affair...

[termagax]

having a comic idea in my brain but i dont wanna get up and sketch it but i cant write it in the way i want to because i am cursed to think in pictures but i cant. draw it rn.

[kalloway]

:)

gonna try to be self-indulgent to fight depression, wish me luck boys

[cerealmonster15]

back to the trials and tribulations of I Dont Know How To Write Chenyas Voice

[ckret2]

@marsupials-of-mars submitted:

I was planning to do maybe a fic and more doodles of this but now I'm busy with school so I might as well show what I did do!

Based on how the goldilocks fic seems to posit that Bill at his best is a silly professor who loves to teach his own way

Introducing Professor Locke!

Things about this idea:

-post redemption, however that will go. I'm calling it an AU because I imagine it is not your plan for what happens after lol, but currently canon-compliant.

-Bill is at first not very on board with the idea of working in the higher education system. It's a scam and it's dumb that they tell adult people how to think.

-He's eventually convinced to bless Backupsmore with his tutelage, on the grounds that they're less stuck up there, they seem to care about giving their students opportunities despite their backgrounds, and the kids there care about learning rather than going to college just because their parents said they should.

-Ford uses his academic connections to vouch for Bill even though he is very mysterious and has no academic records. This is another reason why they picked Backupsmore: i's a little more lax when presented with a shockingly smart mystery professor. Bill gets an interview and charms the pants off the university president.

-He teaches "astrophysics" in theory (that's the job description) but he ends up teaching a little bit of everything.

-He's one of those professors you either adore or despise. He's very loud, often outright mean, and if you're too shy to speak up in class he does not give a SHIT about you. You gotta want it!

-However, his class is notoriously easy. He thinks homework and tests are facist, but he's required to have a curriculum, so his "quizzes" are like a few true or false questions and then a short answer where he asks something he thinks would be funny or wants to hear about, like "what's the dumbest thing another student has said in class since the last test and why was it dumb" or "fashion advice: what's the coolest thing I wore this last week? Extra credit: draw something cooler I SHOULD wear."

-as a result, students who have completely unrelated majors will take his class. If they end up being interested, he deems them worthy. If they're just there to be lazy, he will bully them into dropping out.

-Mabel buys him stickers to put on people's tests when they pass, or to just hand out when they something he likes. He gets along most with the college kids who know how to appreciate a classic gold star.

-He really wanted a big pretty lecture hall, where his voice would echo and he could point at a big chalkboard. But all Backupsmore could provide was a cinderblock and linoleum basement classroom. The lights buzz very loudly and it smells musty. They have stools and folding tables. Bill finds he enjoys the more intimate environment where he can walk between the tables and also sneak up on people.

-He's broken multiple folding tables by trying to do the cool professor thing where you hop up onto your desk and cross your legs and talk all casual. He is able to do this on his own desk thankfully. It's aluminum.

-Ford gets a bit nervous if he did the right thing when bill tells his school stories at the dinner table, so he finds an excuse to accompany Bill to a campus event where he can meet some of his students.

-His fears are quickly assuaged when he sees how beloved Bill is and how well he gets along with the kids. When he eventually joins in on one of these conversations, one of the students asks if he's Sixer. The students are excited by this. Bill tries to shut them up, to partial success.

OK I guess I just ended up writing the fic more or less so enjoy I guess lol.

Aww, this is adorable! Thank you! (And the fact that you're imagining a future for Bill makes me so happy.) He's absolutely be the weirdest professor in the school and he'd ADORE having a crowd full of trusting impressional minds whose parents are paying him to change the way they think. Talk about playing to his strengths.

Your idea is so wholesome, meanwhile the moment I saw "Professor Bill" I went,

[impishjesters]

I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.

Jax x Crushing!Reader

warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.

Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.

There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?

Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.

Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.

Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.

Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.

Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.

It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.

Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.

You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”

A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”

“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?

Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.

A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.

Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.

He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”

“I don’t.”

The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.

His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?

Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.

Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”

Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.

“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?

He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.” Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”

You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.

“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”

As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.

“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.

He’s got a sucker to prank.

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 365!

1 year! One whole year of daily doodles!!

Honestly?? Idk how to feel, so much has happened since I first started this blog.

I guess I’ll just write what I’m thinking right now??

(Everything under the cut, this thing is longer than I expected)

A lot of this text probably isn’t going to make sense. I’m writing this at 1 am. If there’s any mistakes or errors that’s why. I’ll fix them in the morning maybe.

So like. This whole thing kinda started as a joke, I wasn’t intending to actually draw for a year straight lmao. Like I even used a completely different art style from my regular one that was simple, quick and intentionally dumb. Not that I’m upset by it, I’m actually quite proud of myself that I managed to stick to something for an entire year. That’s pretty unusual for me believe it or not. My original intention was to stop at maybe 20 days because I really wasn’t expecting for this blog to get as much love as it did.

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so much to everyone who has followed and supported this silly little idea I had, you guys are the biggest reason my experience has been so positive and worth it. (Sure it’s not original but I hope it’s at least been interesting!)

I’ve said this a few times now but I’ve mentioned wanting to take a break. I’ll admit that even though it’s been fun it’s still pretty tiring to keep up with this blog sometimes since some recent life events have made it so hard. After some thought, I’ve decided that I’ll likely take a break sometime in the coming months. Maybe toward day 400 or so. As of right now, things are at a lull so I’ve been okay enough mentally and physically to keep up this daily streak I think. Though this could change in an instant for whatever reason.

Overall I think my burnout has kind of gone away I think?? Or at least I’ve been reinvigorated recently after replaying a few runs of hk randomizer and steel soul. No promises it’ll stay away but I silly expect it to come in waves.

Ok but call me crazy or delusional or whatever, but my hopes are up that Silksong will release this year. (which means slowing down/not doing daily doodles yay) I genuinely believe big news is coming since I’ve been getting a lot of dreams lately about something happening with Silksong in March. Idk, I could be wrong but after doing this for a year I’m literally clinging onto anything right now lol

I’d obviously still make the occasional doodle or two when HKSS releases but not daily. This stuff is tough to keep up sometimes, I would never do daily posts like this again once it’s over

Oh yeah also I have an actual big drawing I’m still working on, expect that in sometime in the next few weeks I think!

Anyway, I can’t think of anything else to say right now so I guess that’s it for now!

Thanks so much and here’s to more doodles!

[roosterforme]

Something to Talk About | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knew the rumors were circulating. He knew his friends were talking. But he had known you for such a long time, and you were just friends. Because if something was going to happen between the two of you, it would have happened by now. Right?

Warnings: Fluff and swearing

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for a request. And also because mak-32 said Rumor by Lee Brice would make a good fic. Check out my masterlist for more!

"Hey, Bradshaw, where's your girl?" Jake asked with a smirk. "Haven't seen Yankee all night, and it's getting late."

Bradley shot him some side eye from his stool near the pool table. "She's not my girl. And as far as I know, she went out for dinner with some guy she met at the gym."

"At the gym on base?" Nat shook her head and laughed. "You know how those Navy guys are, Rooster. They only want one thing." 

Bradley rolled his eyes. "She can take care of herself."

"Hey, Payback," Nat called out. "Why do you go to the gym on base?"

"Pick up girls," Reuben replied without hesitation from the other side of the pool table. 

"See?" Nat said to Bradley. "And I don't believe you when you try to tell me there's nothing going on with her. She's constantly touching you, and you get a stupid looking smile around her."

"Just friends," Bradley muttered, taking a sip of his beer. He'd known you since flight school in Pensacola. He'd been stationed with you in Norfolk and Corpus Christi. Now you and he were both back at Top Gun. If something was going to happen between the two of you, it would have happened by now. "Just good friends."

"Friends don't undress each other with their eyes," Nat said, batting her eyelashes at him while the guys laughed. 

Bradley shook his head. He didn't undress you with his eyes, but it wasn't his fault that you were pretty. And you most certainly did not look at him that way. "She doesn't even date other aviators. And she once called me an adorable puppy dog of a man. Just friends."

"There she is," Jake drawled, and Bradley's head snapped around so quickly to see you heading their way. "Hey, Yankee, looking good," Jake called out. 

"Shut up, Hangman," you returned as you got close, but you were smiling at them. You always seemed to be smiling, but seeing you dressed up was a real treat. Bradley was used to you wearing flight suits and khaki uniforms every day. 

When Bradley stood, you walked right up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. "How was your date?" he asked quietly, trying to ignore the looks the others were giving him.

"He was so stupid, Rooster. He could barely string a sentence together. Just a dumb jock," you replied looking up at him with wide eyes. Bradley held you a little tighter; so maybe his feelings for you went just the tiniest bit past platonic. 

"Aww, give the guy a chance, Yankee Doodle Dandy. Maybe he's just not used to how pretty you are. Maybe he got distracted." 

You rolled your eyes at him. "You know I hate it when you call me that." But you were still smiling. "Wanna know the funniest part? He actually asked me when you and I broke up."

Bradley's brow creased. "You and I? Us?"

"Yeah!" you laughed. "Apparently there are rumors we're together. Crazy."

"Yeah... crazy," he agreed, rubbing your back through the fabric of your dress. "Why would anyone think that?" he mused out loud as you pressed your cheek against his chest. You sighed contentedly against him, and when Bradley glanced over to the pool table, he saw his friends all scrambling to pretend they weren't watching you together. 

"I have no idea," you told him softly. 

Bradley cleared his throat. "If this guy was no good, maybe you need to reevaluate who you're going out with, Yankee Doodle. That's like five duds in a row."

You groaned. "I hate it when you're right. I'm getting a drink," you announced. "Anyone need anything?"

Bradley watched as you and Fanboy walked away to get some drinks from Penny. But you kept glancing his way while you and Mickey talked. And maybe Bradley shouldn't be surprised that people thought you and he were together. The two of you had always been comfortable around each other. 

"Could the two of you possibly stand any closer together?" Nat asked, drawing Bradley's attention away from your legs in that short little dress that you had wasted on another shitty date.

He just shook his head. "Nah. She treats Mickey the same way she treats me." But Bradley was starting to have a hard time believing that. 

You and Mickey were a few feet apart, and you were smiling as he was talking animatedly with his hands. But you seemed to reserve a different smile just for Bradley, one that would make his heart ache a little bit if he ever saw you give it to anyone else. 

Nat laughed and patted his arm. "Yeah, okay," she said sarcastically. "I'm just saying, if you want these rumors to stop, the two of you are definitely going about it the wrong way. You look like you're already in a relationship."

A relationship. Bradley would know what the press of your lips against his felt like. He would know all about the needy sounds you made in bed. He would know how it felt to hold you all night. But he knew none of those things. Did he want to?

"Here you go." You were holding another bottle of beer out to him, nudging him in the chest with it when it took him a moment to return from his hazy thoughts of spending a lazy Sunday in bed with you. 

"Thanks, Doodle Dandy," he murmured, and the soft smile that found its way to your lips had him thinking about kissing you. He cleared his throat a few times before taking a sip of the beer and sitting down on the stool. "So, was your dinner at least good? If your date was a dumb as you said, I hope you got a decent meal out of it."

And then your smile was gone as you looked into your vodka cranberry. "We got seafood, and it was delicious. And I made sure to stay and order dessert after he made a comment about my size. He said he usually doesn't date girls with big hips, but I had a cute face, so he'd make an exception."

Bradley froze, gaping at you, and when you met his eyes, you looked so vulnerable. You never looked vulnerable. You were a fast talking fighter pilot who never put up with his shit. But you were also a woman with feelings that had been hurt by some faceless asshole who Bradley would gladly pound into the ground given the opportunity. 

"He's wrong, Doodle," Bradley said, reaching for you and pulling you closer. You let one hand rest on his thigh as you stood between his knees. "Well, not about your face. But the rest of it...he's dead wrong."

You shrugged and smiled at him. "Thanks, Rooster. I'll be fine. I realized he was an idiot before he even said that stuff." You sipped your drink while Bradley leaned in closer. 

"I think I have a solution for your problem, Yankee Doodle." His nose was just a few inches from yours, and now you were leaning one of those decadent hips against the inside of his thigh. Your hand slid an inch further up his leg, and he had to stifle a moan. 

"Which problem is that, Rooster?"

"These guys. These shitty guys keep asking you out, but you deserve a good one," he whispered, and your eyes dipped down to his lips. "One who would tell you how fucking perfect you are. You're fucking perfect, Yankee."

"Oh," you gasped softly. "Rooster?"

He smiled at your surprised expression. "Everyone already thinks we're together anyway. I mean, we can shut these rumors down, if that's what you want. Or we could keep everyone talking. You could probably get me to do anything you want, really."

"How.... hmmm," you hummed, rattling the ice in your cup and avoiding his gaze. But you weren't moving away from him. If anything you were creeping a little closer. "How would we keep everyone talking?"

Bradley stroked your chin with his thumb and tilted your face gently so your eyes met his. "I could kiss you... if you want."

You licked your lips and searched his face. "If you kissed me, would you just be feeding into the rumors?"

Bradley watched the movement of his fingers as he let them drift back along your jaw and wrap around to tease the back of your neck. "No, Dandy. I'd be feeding into this crush I have on you. Which is why I've never done it before."

Your eyes drifted closed as you tilted your head a bit, and Bradley's pulse went wild. Every alarm bell in his head was going off, warning him that he'd get his heart broken if you were only going to kiss him for fun. But he couldn't stop you, because he didn't want to. 

With a soft sigh, your lips met his, and Bradley instantly knew you and he should have done this sooner. Your kiss was sweet as your lips gently explored his. He pulled you closer, his firm fingers stroking up and down the back of your neck until your palm rested on his chest. He could feel the prickle of his mustache against your skin as he nibbled gently on your bottom lip. The soft noise you made spurred him on, but now you were pulling away, meeting his eyes with that same tentative look. 

Bradley could feel the cold condensation on his jeans where your glass had come to rest, but everywhere else he was so warm. He took your glass and his beer bottle in his free hand and set them down on the table behind him. "Come here, Doodle," he whispered, now tracing your cheek with his knuckles. 

Your arms went around his neck, and you were pressing against him, tucked snug between his spread legs. "I hate it when you call me that," you whined softly, pressing your lips against his a little rougher this time. It took everything in Bradley not to climb off the stool and push you against the wall when your fingers found their way into this hair. 

"No, you don't," he whispered, breaking the kiss to taste your neck. 

"No, I don't," you agreed. When his mouth returned to yours, you parted your lips for Bradley, and he tasted you there, too. He stroked your cheek, and you peppered his lips with soft kisses before you pulled away a few inches. "I liked that."

"So did I," he agreed with a laugh. "We should do that all the time."

You nodded and kissed his cheek, and then Bradley realized all the other aviators were staring at both of you with varying looks of surprise. Except for Nat. She was smirking.

When you glanced over your shoulder to see where Bradley was looking, you waved at everyone. 

"Are the rumors true then? You two are into each other?" Nat asked, casually sipping her drink.

You turned back and looked at Bradley with hopeful eyes and a grin. "Are the rumors true, Rooster?"

He wrapped his hands around your waist and nodded at the others. "Yeah. Rumors are true." Then he stood and pulled you against him, dipping his head down for another kiss while you smiled. 

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

Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me. And I hope @abaker74 finds a real life Rooster, because that's what you deserve!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[vvickydisc]

Please, I need fun facts about the Abandonware cast here. Like, how Jax's personality changed, Ragatha's, Gangle's, etc.

Gangle looks so fucking cool. Jester, too. Why did the others gain names but the Jester just stayed as "Jester"?

This is such good AU, we need more info about it.

let me try to break down your questions! How Jax's personality changed? I mentioned how the cast wasn't originally like this when they got stuck in the circus! Meaning Jax was pretty awful to everyone, I hate to tell and have no way to properly show it (Hopefully one day as a comic but for now heres a dumb doodle) but, Gangle (After receiving her mask) & Kinger had a idea to change Jax's behaviour! With lobotomy! The two really ganged up on him and just stirred his brain. Theres the question of how thats even possible if nothing in the digital world affects your mind. The short answer is in this AU the digital aspects do affect them. How Ragatha's personality changed? With Ragatha here is a little different, its hard to be positive after witnessing violent glitched out NPCs and abstraction in general. So you think a doctor would help you out how to regulate these feelings/cope better. Kinger had other plans! (I actually wanna tryyy to keep this lowkey but) Ragatha faced isolation and the whole situation just made her alot more desensitized and apathetic. Hows Gangle's personality changed? Well, one day Jax really broke her mask pretty badly, left her ribbons in tatters. Ragatha didn't seem to notice how much damage Jax did, weakly giving small encouragement to pick herself back up and walked passed her (I should note this is before Kinger 'helped' Ragatha) Zooble was in a bad state of mind, intentionally ignoring her. Kafumo was confined. (It'll be explained in the future) So Kinger was the only one to really help her. Giving her a stronger mask! The mask isn't like mind control or anything, I feel like Gangle got confident with it on and was already pushed to her limit of being the victim. Why did the others gain names but the Jester just stayed as "Jester"? That's easy! Caine was the one to give Pomni a name and since he wasn't there, Jester doesn't have a proper name. I'm assuming Ragatha, Zooble, Kinger and Jax are self given names since the "Name Machine" only has five letters on it. Gangle's name was of course given by Jax. I'll have to give some fun facts one day! Since this post is already kinda long, sorry for that!

[mxmarsbars]

obsessed with the to die for au tbh I would love to hear more about it 👁️

I’m so glad you like it!! :D

basic premise is bdubs is a starving artist and needs to get an “actual job” to keep himself afloat until his freelance stuff picks up, and that job just so happens to be at a local graveyard

he was confused why the pay was so good and the competition was so low until his first night when he quickly discovered just why nobody else wanted the shift

(it’s haunted. like mega haunted.)

the au doesn’t have a coherent story as of now, it kinda just follows bdubs as he learns to make do with the supernatural beings pestering him. I imagine it would be similar to an anthology series, something more silly lil moment based but still adhering to an overall plot!! it also gives off monster prom and vague dating sim vibes to me but it’s not a strictly romantic or platonic au ^_^ it’s up to interpretation currently

I plan to do some fun stuff with it since I actually quite like the idea (and it seems like some other people do as well, which I’m very grateful for), whether it be dumb comics or a long oneshot or series of lil drabbles detailing their adventures

I also plan to do some world building eventually!! all I know is scar runs the graveyard so do with that what you will ^_^

but yeah :3 here’s just a couple doodles I did earlier today!! might not be able to pump anything digital out for a bit because of a scary brain thing so I hope this is good for now :,) I would’ve explained it more in depth but thoughts are hard at the moment >_<

I’ll make an actual master post about it once I get more stuff figured out!! :)

[lovebugism]

hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further. 

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel. 

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car. 

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance. 

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the  building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice. 

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air. 

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him. 

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that. 

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void. 

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can. 

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to. 

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles. 

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

[yanderederee]

Library Kisses

a/n:I really wanted to write this idea with Baji in mind but I’ve rewrote it four different times and each time it comes out not good and the only person I can picture is Mikey so I’m giving into the Mikey brain rot okay?

now~ … part2 … part3 … part4 … part5

Manjiro Sano NEVER came to school, even more rarely class. If he did even bother to show up, it was usually to hang out on the roof for some cool air, or in the vending area for a nice nap with snacks nearby. No one could tell him where he needed to be, after all. And if they pushed too hard and annoyed him, he’d just leave.

That suddenly changed after he lost a serious bet with Emma and Shinichiro. The consequence? Attend all classes for Two Weeks.

Two weeks felt like forever, he admitted. The first day didn’t seem like it would be so bad, until he started actually paying attention to the teacher.

God, he thought. What a drag.

(Shikamaru—-?)

Manjiro was so far behind in studies, he had no idea half of what was being taught. So, before he let his temper rise, he simply stopped paying attention again.

This quickly became a problem.

Nothing interesting to keep his attention on, Mikey found himself falling into boredom. Irritation was bubbling yet again. Of corse, Mikey never brought anything with him. No paper, pencil, books, it was a random chance of luck that Emma was even able to find his school bag.

So with literally nothing to keep his attention, he started getting antsy. How long until this dumb lecture was over anyway? He glanced at the clock.

HOW IN THE HELL HAD ONLY 20 MINUTES PASSED?

He was absolutely flabbergasted. No way in Hell would he be able to handle this torture. Screw the bet, Emma and Shin could eat dirt for all Manjiro cared.

Yet…

“…sss…” whispered a tiny sound.

Manjiro would have ignored it had he not been eager for something to get his attention. He shifted his gaze to the direction of the whisper: the cute classmate who sat beside him.

You.

Before he could wonder what or why you were trying to interact with him, he noticed you holding something out to him.

‘..the hell?’ He looked down at what you were gripping in your hands.

It was a notebook. A very basic and boring one, had you not doodled little flowers and vines into the cover.

Cute.

Accompanied with the notebook was both a pencil and pen, both neatly held tight to the notebook.

Mikey looked up to gander at your eyes, which looked rather worried, brows knitted together with a soft considerate smile. You made the effort of motioning to the gifts once more, before he unconsciously took it without much thought.

You seemed to be very pleased by his acceptance, your expression shifted to relief, then a friendly thumbs up before letting your focus run back to the instructor.

‘Why did i even take the book?’ Well, either way it would serve as a doodle book of his own, if nothing else. The pen and pencil both roll off the notebook cover when he opened to examine its contents.

Gibberish, is all Mikey saw. Pure, number coded gibberish. To the average student, it would have looked like neatly worded mathematic notes, color coded and plenty. If he’d looked further, he’d find notes related to other subjects as well. But he really didn’t feel like it.

Thankfully, to keep his interest, a small little notecard was stuck as a bookmark.

Mikey glanced your direction again, amused when he noticed you were doing the exact same thing, but unlike him, when you accidentally made eye contact, you immediately break it to unsubtly pretend to have your attention up front again.

He grinned. You were cute.

Without his left hand never leaving his pocket, he managed to open the notebook with only his right hand, fingers nimbly spreading the book open to the bookmarked section.

He noticed some familiar words on this page. Matter of fact, a lot of the words written down on this section of pages were word for word what was being vocally spoken, when he took a second to listen.

Again shifting his attention, he noticed your handwriting on the bookmark, as well.

“I hope this helps! I don’t see you in class often, so I thought you could use these. Don’t worry about returning them, you can keep them if you want.

If you need help catching up, I’m apart of the tutoring program the school offers!

My name is Y/n L/n, I hope we can get along:)”

That’s all you wrote.

He starred intently at your handwriting for sometime. It was a hell of a lot more legible when what he could do, and while you used rather simple kanji, it still took him a minute to register them. He really Has been gone from school a while.

Manjiro found himself smiling without permission. It was kind of touching, the kindness of a stranger who genuinely looks out for others without gain.

For the sake of your kindness, Mikey did attempt to follow the lesson one more time, with the notes at his ready.

Unfortunately, he still didn’t really get what was going on. What even subject were they talking about? Social studies, geographics, English literature? He gave an exasperated, loud groan before slumping back in his seat. He found himself falling back into irritation.

Trying to calm himself for the third time this class period, he noticed the same soft whisper that caught his attention the first time. Quicker to respond this time, Manjiro lugged his head towards your direction again. He felt his smile wanting to surface again when he was met with your worried expression once more.

You seemed to want to say something, but obviously were worried about the consequences. So, immediately after meeting eyes, you gave a “wait a sec” kind of gesture, and started scribbling on a similarly decorated notecard. He waited for you patiently, unable to do much else anyway.

Soon, you began reaching your hand out to give him the notecard. However, Manjiro wanted more than your written attention. So, before you could react or slip the note on his desk, he reached out to take the note from your hand. He didn’t just reach out to take the note however, purposefully, he outstretched his delicate looking fingers a little further, and trailed his finger tips along the back of your hand. Slowly he offered a very gentle squeeze before his hand pulled back, finger tips trailing a path from your wrist to your nail beds.

The touch was brief, but accidentally intimate. So much so that your breath hitched from the unexpected action. No one seemed to notice. Manjiro did, but no one else. Probably.

This all but lit a fit of flames in his gut, a giddy feeling irrupting before he could even read the note. Eagerly, he scanned the card.

“Don’t let the material get you down! You can catch up in no time. Hang in there!”

This time, your handwriting was a little more messy, quicker. Still, it was cute, he thought.

Giving up on the lecture entirely at this point, he finally let go of his bored sitting stance, and retreated his left hand from his pocket to maneuver the notebook and two note cards on his desk. Grabing the pencil you’d also lent him, he began to scribble something under your handwriting of the second notecard.

“Thanks”

Is all he wrote. Honestly, he got nervous halfway through writing, and gave up after he finished only the single word. Nerves slowly got to him when he noticed a pair of eyes peering at him secretly. Your gaze felt like burning on his skin when he thought about it for too long. Ignoring your gaze this time, he knew you had the upper hand when his peripheral sight caught your big smile.

…

Once the bell had rang for break, all the students seemed to jump up to leave. Manjiro was still doodling in the back of your notebook. You were packing your things neatly as you usually do, glancing at the delinquent next to you. Finishing up a few last strokes, Manjiro lazily held the book up for your appraisal.

Doodled rather… poorly, was his name, and ‘Tokyo Manji Gang’ in different fonts… as well the face of the Doriyaki mascot. (?)

You didn’t seem to hide your amusement, openly giggling at the childish doodles and gave a thumbs up. He liked that. Manjiro grinned at your approval and shut the book, resting his head to look at you with a new intensity.

“Y/n, right?” He asked. You nodded, not seeming too phased by his intentionally intense aura.

“Nice to officially meet you, Manjiro.” You greeted back with a chirp. He blinked at you a little wide before letting out a quiet laugh. “Isn’t it normal to use someone’s surname when addressing them for the first time?” He asked. No, he never minded it. Of corse not.

The middle schooler was used to many names.

Boss.

Captain.

The Invincible Mikey

Mikey.

But the only ones with the privilege to call him by his given name: Manjiro. We’re limited to his only siblings.

. . . .

And apparently, you too.

It was amusing. No stranger DARED utter his given name, out of fear of disrespecting the great Mikey….. yet here you were.

God, he loved the way his name sounded, coming from you.

Manjiro.

He didn’t even realize how smitten by it he was. Not until he realized you were starting at him inquisitively.

Shit, what did you say? He forgot entirely.

…

The following few weeks consisted of Manjiro Sano following you around, more or less.

Out of everything school had to offer, he swears up and down that the only thing that caught his interest was you.

It was a well known fact that Manjiro Sano was a delinquent. Big Boss of Toman. Dangerous beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Mikey never acted in public how he normally would around the founding toman, it wasn’t known how childish and goofy he was.

Manjiro don’t too much trusting. Too many mistakes. He found himself treading lightly, yet he couldn’t back-peddle from wanting your attention.

He monitored you closely for the past week. He took note of your reactions, your ideals, how you treated others. He wrote down your favorite manga, silly irrational fears.

It didn’t take him long to realize how others treated you either.

People walked all over you, yet you didn’t bat an eye about it. It’d be really annoying if you did things for people just so people would like you. People definitely saw you as a pushover.

You rolled with the punches, so to speak. Any vile attitude aimed at you seemed to go unnoticed, as you maintained composure effortlessly. You never gave anyone a reason to bad mouth you either way, but snarky remarks about being a pushover did become a class commodity. It was easy to pick on the one who never fought back.

Yet Manjiro knew it wasn’t out of kindness or seeking compensation for your good deeds.

“Why’d you stop to help that guy pick up his lunch? He was cleaning the mess up just fine, you didn’t need to help him.” Mikey pouted, originally irritated because you broke from his side to do this task.

You finished washing your hands, drying them on the dry cloth Manjiro held out to you. Replying with a shrug, “Why not? He looked like he could use the help. If he didn’t want it he could tell me to buzz off, but it doesn’t hurt to offer some help.”

Manjiro rolled his eyes. “Might not hurt, but it’s inconvenient as hell,” he mumbled. You gave him a stern look, raising an eyebrow. “Inconvenient how? Were you gatta be so urgently?” You joked, confusing your classmate further.

You laughed, and patted him on the shoulder. “Think about it, if you were havin’ a bad day and dropped your stuff, you’d be pretty pissed off right? Even if it’s one little act, things like that help get you through the day,”

“Nothing wrong with trying to make the world a little bit of a nicer place.”

That’s when Manjiro Sano’s knew you were his darling.

You were so soft with him, and he loved that about you. He loved when you beamed at him with pride for whatever academic achievement he mastered…

You were different.

You were perfect- Manjiro declared.

Three weeks finally pass, and Mikey hadn’t missed a single day of school. Maybe a skipped class or two, but he always showed up on his sweet babu, if not to tease you and pick up the notes you made him before snacking on the roof.

Mikey has been holding back ever since that day. Keeping his darker impulses at bay time and time and time again.

He held back every time you got too close, and your clothes brushed up against his more than a casual encounter.

He held back every time you looked him dead in the eye, asking him if he was okay.

He held back when the little pinch of pain in his chest made him want to croak out the truth: Not really…

Mikey held back the tears, the words and feelings he suddenly felt so comfortable expressing.

Because it was you who asked.

Each and every time he held back from making you his darling. He wanted you to hold him so desperately. For you to fill that empty space he’s always had.

A part of Mikey knew that if you found out just how much he loved you, you would start to fear him.

You too would start walking on eggshells around him, run away after high school and abandon him.

…Or you would bend to his command one day, and he hated the thought of it.

He hated thinking about your trapped form, scared to speak the wrong thing.

He hated thinking he could make you into that person.

Ha hated the thought of you hating him.

…he didn’t want you to have that choice.

…

And there you were, listening to him whine.

“Come’onnnn Y/ncchin!~ it’s so boring hereeee,”

You glance down to your left, seeing your classmate’s practice packet still blank. “Well, if you can answer those for me I’ll take you out for Taiyaki; my treat.”

He loved you so much. You always knew how to motivate him.

However, he already knew you would treat him to taiyaki, even if he didn’t get the answers right, or if he even did them at all.

“Buuu~ not this time Y/nchiin! Bribe denied.” He huffed, anticipating your reply.

You matched his huff, crossing your arms. He loved the way you looked when you pouted.

“Maybe I’ll just stop tutoring you then!” You threatened weakly.

“No chance, you want me to graduate so bad.” Mikey snorted a laugh.

“No more leftover bento bits,” you warned testingly.

“You’d never let poor little me starve…” he batted his eyelashes.

“…”

He grinned with triumph.

“Fine, what will it take for you to try to pass ONE class?”

“Mm~” Mikey hummed, glancing over the material to appraise it.

If Manjiro were honest, he could get rather good grades, actually. With repetition, and your good habits, he was actually learning really quickly. But he couldn’t let you know that. He liked when you babied him through some things, just to impress you beyond comprehension moments later.

The praise…

Oh, Mikey thought. That’s it. He wants your praise. He wants you to tell him how awesome he was, how cool and dashing he could be, how smart he was. How much you loved him-

“How bout if I can ace this whole packet, you have to grant me one favor?”

The deal went just as you would have thought it would. He feigned having trouble on the packet of questions, so not to seem overly suspicious.

Yet true to his plan, you now owed him one favor.

“Fine, what favor do you want from me?” You chuckled while rolling your eyes.

Your first line of thought went to,

‘make me homemade taiyaki!’

‘let me cheat on the final!’

‘wax my CB250 !’

… not, “stay still, unless you really don’t want to.”

His voice was a whisper, and you’re immediately caught with your guard down.

Manjiro gently weaves his left hand under your hair. He tilts your head slightly, enough so he could achieve his goal, any resistance on your end being considered with mindful touches. He wouldn’t push you past your comfort. He couldn’t stand if you looked at him with fear in your eyes, too.

Your breath hitches, giving way to wind the excitement his actions gifted you.

Your breath continues to be shaky, yet obeying his favor, you sat still.

Both of you took a few seconds to get your racing hearts back under control.

It was futile, but the nerves to act finally snapped after Mikey and your eyes’ caught each others. The mirrored look of excitement was all Manjiro could stand. The accepting bat of your eyelashes.

Manjiro Sano didn’t hold back this time.

Still gentle, Manjiro quickly closed the gap between your awaiting kiss.

Seconds pass. Two very soft sighs can be heard.

Followed by Manjiro’s lip clicking sweetly against yours when the kiss naturally deepened.

This was heaven.

The feeling of you so close, so accepting, so gentle to him.

Mikey wanted to caress you into a deep hold, may so that the heat and desperate banging against his chest would finally feel heard. He wanted to feel your heartbeat pulse against his lips.

Manjiro Sano wanted to be gentle.

But he couldn’t help how his muscles tensed and grabbed you harder. How could he, when you just let out the cutest fucking moan. The craving of your submission suddenly became more appealing, Mikey felt himself coming to life again.

He pushed your lips deeper, the force of his grip and encouragement to mimic his lead allow the kiss to deepen once more to something more recognized as making out.

He couldn’t stop. You were losing breath, and he could feel you try to initiate a pause, but damnit, he couldn’t stop.

It started getting hard to breathe without gasping for air, but your whines and accidental moans were damning you more than you realize.

Manjiro. Couldn’t. Stop.

Again, he pushed the kiss so you had no other choice than to breathe your cute noises into his waiting mouth, tongue darting for a taste.

He couldn’t stop himself from pulling you closer into his embrace, making it so you were standing on one foot while your other knee rested just between his thighs.

Fuuuck, he thought. You’re so warm, all of you. But warmest of all, was the heat you were generating with friction and arousal. All he had to do was hike his knee up just a little. Just a little bit. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the animal he would become after hearing what your siren like moans would turn him into.

So finally, Manjiro held back.

He pulled back, panting without much issue. Assessing your face, your eyes… your lips.

Your lips were just barely swollen, rubbed into a pretty red tint (with his help).

A thin, barely noticeable line of spit lay unattended, from his unfortunate retreat.

He wiped it gingerly, looking back into your eyes with a hooded gaze.

“A…are you.. sure?” You softly croaked out.

“About what..?” Manjiro whispered back.

“I dont… like joking about these types of things…” you continue, face becoming redder. “S-so if you’re messing around, I’ll get mad…” you warned, again, weakly.

You were so soft with him.

“And what if I’m not messing around?” Mikey asks you point blank, his intense stare once again peering into your very soul.

There’s a short moment of silence.

And suddenly, it’s your turn to gently brush against his also swollen lips. Rather than a kiss, it felt more like a binding.

Manjiro Sano vowed to you that very moment. And this was a seal of your acceptance.

That was all he could ever ask for.

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

How about Ashley x Emo Fem Reader? Like gothic with uhh emotic? Or something like that. Like they meet when they been in high school. And they live in Y/N's house that she get from her parents when they passed

If you had any questions, ask me

Oooohhhh- okay okay!

Ashley Graves x Emo Fem!Reader

Social outcast, you generally considered yourself

Not just you, your peers as well had called you that- or…crude variations of it

Point is, no one in school really liked you

You’ve overheard their gossip- all the same shit really

“I bet she lights cats on fire!” “Look at her sleeves, I bet she cuts herself.” “She’s gonna blow up the school I swear”

They couldn’t even bother to be creative with their assumptions about you- a lot of the same depressed demon stuff

….and you are depressed- but that’s besides the point!

You never really connected with any of your peers..

…well- except one..

Lunchtime was quite possibly the worst part of your day. It was a war zone. In the classrooms you had teachers to lessen the blows your classmates would throw at you, both metaphorically and physically, here the only solace of a savior were the underpaid lunch ladies who were occupied handing out food to students.

You hugged the wall as you carefully watched your peers, they all seemed fairly occupied in their own conversations- not even noticing you. You liked it when they forgot your existence. Loneliness beat cruelty.

There was a table you always sat at, tucked into the corner of the lunchroom- and for good reasons. The surface was littered with graffiti of swears, slurs, those cool S’s, and various crude doodles left by your peers. Not only that, but the table was very wobbly, so badly you usually have to use two textbooks to prop it up. The bottom was covered in dried out, chewed gum- the entire thing was just a sitting “DO NOT COME HERE” sign.

And it was perfect!

No one ever sat there due to how shitty it was, you think the students and faculty didn’t even bother to go near it. They either think it’s cursed, or forgot about it. Or both. Maybe both. But today someone had actually got there before you did.

A disgruntled girl with messy black hair poked at the mystery meat on her lunch tray. Poked isn’t the right word- more like viciously stabbed it repeatedly. Her nose scrunched in frustration, likely not directed towards the so-called food, but it was the only thing she had to vent her frustrations on to. She hadn’t noticed you.

You stood there a little awkwardly, not wanting to startle her on accident, so instead you spoke up meekly.

“Uhm…hi.” You smiled a little, trying to harmless. She didn’t look like your average bullies, but you can never be too careful.

She looked up at you with her pink eyes- her gaze was sharp, and you instinctively tensed in preparation for some insult to be thrown. She gave you a once over before returning to her tray, “…hey.”

“Can I…sit here?” It was a dumb question. Technically this table had been your seat, and this girl just showed up out of nowhere- but, oh well.

She gave a frustrated sigh, “God- did Andy put you up to this?” She asked rather accusatory, pointing her fork at you.

You opened your mouth to reply before she interrupted you, “Look how many times do I have to tell you hussies, you’re just wasting your time! He’s not going to fuck you if you’re nice to me so just—“

“Who’s Andy?”

The question you asked sounded genuine….cause it was. Really, you had no idea who this ‘Andy’ guy was. The girl lowered her fork, eyeing you wearily before she decided that you weren’t lying. She turned her head and muttered,

“….you can sit.”

And so you did. The two of you ate in relative silence. Well- you ate. Your new lunch friend more-so stabbed at her food then ate it. You swallowed down the lump of unidentifiable cafeteria meat and gave her a friendly smile. The silence was deafening and you’d never had anyone to eat with so maybe…maybe this could be nice for a change..

“I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself.

The girl glanced up at you before returning to her tray, “…Ashley..”

“I’ve never seen you at this table much.” your hands patted the surface nervously.

“Normally I sit with my brother and so-called friend,” her words dripped with malice, “But my stupid brother had to go study for some history test! And my ‘friend’ conveniently didn’t save me a seat…” she stuck her fork into the biggest chunk of her food and muttered, “Fucking bitch…”

“That’s a bit harsh..” you mumbled, causing Ashley to perk up and glare at you.

She practically climbed over the table and held her fork out towards you, making your hands instinctively raise in surrender, “She is a bitch! A doe-eyed hussie who thinks she’s soooooo innocent when she sucks just as much as everyone else!”

“I meant it was harsh that she wouldn’t let you sit with her,” your eyes were fixated on the fork, kind of worried Ashley would drive it into your neck, “I…should’ve been more specific. Sorry.”

Ashley’s pink eyes widened a little, she almost seemed- shocked someone took her side. Slowly, she clambered back to her seat and went quiet. You lowered your hands back into your lap and stared at her. Ashley pushed her tray and folded her arms overtop the table.

“….thanks.” She mumbled.

After that, you saw Ashley a lot more

It wasn’t every day, maybe once a week or two she would show up at your hidden table to eat

Slowly, she came out of that shell and actually initiated conversations

Well- conversations were a stretch. It was more like her venting about her frustrating day while you nodded along and ate.

Eventually, she liked you enough to stop you in the halls and walk with you

Usually her brother, Andrew you had come to learn his actual name, walked with her and she made a show to cling on to your arm

It never failed to make the heat rush to your face

Ashley was cute. Very cute. And had a general unhinged vibe that just made her all the more alluring

So it didn’t surprise you that you’d catch feelings for your new friend

No- what surprised you was when Ashley actually liked you back

You paused, silence hanging in the air as Ashley stared at you expectingly. Her foot tapped with impatience as she awaited what you were going to say.

“Well?”

You didn’t know what to say, the only time anyone has asked you out was as a prank. This was different. The question wasn’t coming from some bully barely able to keep their giggles in, this was coming from your friend. Someone you trusted. Someone who wouldn’t hurt you…..at least you think. She did threaten you with a fork.

Ashley’s growing impatience let you know just how slack jawed you were, “Look- if you’re going to be weird about this then just…forget I said anything.” She crossed her arms, turning away from you in a huff.

That was when you came out of your stupor, trying to salvage this, “No! No! It’s okay- really! I’m just….shocked that you asked me out.” You stammered with your explanation, “I didn’t even think you liked girls..”

“Me neither.” She mumbled, the faintest starts of a blush painting her cheeks. It was cute. She was cute.

Your face softened as you placed a hand on her shoulder, “….I’d love to.”

From there you two were dating

Had it only put more unwanted attention on you? Yes, but you wouldn’t have it any other way

You were happy, so fuck what those jerks had to say

Things were good, and after high school the both of you fucked off to another town

With Andrew in college, it’s not like Ashley wanted to stick around her shitty homelife

And you- honestly had no connections aside from your parents, and moving out was expected

So, it was you and Ashley. Outcast for outcast

[sprinklenoodles]

Okay!

This one is going to be shorter since I am trying not to stay up late! (Future me. I lied but I made it! It's not 12 this time! WOOOOO!!!) 'Tis 11pm rn instead of 12 or 1am. Decided to read And Then I Go And Spoil It All By Saying Something Stupid Like "I Love You" Did more art today so I didn't have a lot of time to read that much! Also, it's Jin and Kijo! The doomed gays!! I had too! Also, sliding this in. Hope you had good celebratory time!!! I'd say more but I forgot how to use more words. Yay for celebratory noises! As for my vaguely silly comments for the fic, it be good. Short, sweet, got the TUMI lore in there. So, pretty neat! Not crazy or anything since it's a little oneshot into the lives of Kijo and Jin in their youth, but still!! Makes me think more about these two. Mostly Jin because I never even cared about him much other than "HEADMASTER" and "KYOKO DAD". That kinda stuff. Never even took account like... his personality and what he likes, dislikes, or even how he was in his youth. Guess he kinda just existed in my mind before so it feels nice finally thinking critically about his character a bit more. With Kijo, I always had that intrest because he's so much of a mystery. In the game, there's only the allusion of his preseence cus "Duh! Byakuya came from somewhere. Not some money hole like some money mole" (heehee that rhymed) And like, the only stuff of Kijo IS his name. So I already was in that mindset to wonder about him. What kinda of guy would be responsible for the creating of Byakuya. Which, honestly, maybe I just need to one day go and just... look into the depths of Jin lore. A Jin Journey. Cus I know nothing and it is a crime. Realized this didn't have much fic talk in it and more just me blabbering about Jin and Kijo so I hope you don't mind! Also, since why not add some out-of-pocket thought, I must say this cus it's true and happened yesterday on my end and it's a wild realization. AHEM. I think Byakuya Togami made me realize I might be aroace or like, on the aroace spectrum. This sounds so dumb but it's true. Also think your headcanon for him helped me realize that. I thank you for good fics, interesting ideas, and self-actualization somehow. Like, no one could have guessed that to be on the bingo card. So, by the time of your reading this, it'll be like, 2 days since I had that realization which I'm still shocked about! I digress though. Thus, to end this off, take this MS paint doodle I made in like... less than a few minutes.

The way I drew Kijo is so freaking funny to me. He's so head empty. You bonk that head and he just doesn't react cus there's nothing in there. Also, would their ship name be Jijo or Kin? Kijogiri? Jingami? Also, I will give Kijo better hair some day. I promise!

That little one-shot is one of my favs. It's both recent and is just a nice little addition to the TUMI universe, which I always love to do.

It was also just time for Jin and Kijo to get something that focuses just on them, even if it was just a prequel... but who knows, that might become more...

But I really liked writing it and I'm glad u liked reading it :D

Loved the little doodle too! Poor Kijo's hair tho 😔 And I dunno what the ship name should be... Maybe something ✨creative✨

As for what you've realized, congrats! I'm glad my fics could help with that, though I'm not that surprised that they did. One thing I've noticed is that quite a lot of my readers are aromantic.

Also, I recommend watching this video by JaidenAnimations! It's her coming out as aroace and was quite eye opening for me back when I watched it the first time!

But congrats on figuring that out! If you ever have any questions or whatever, you know where to find me!

[spicybardjj]

The last few months have seriously been crazy for me, with work, freelance and life in general. The flipside, I fell in love-- so that's great 💕

I really want to get back to taking commissions and doing more BG3 art but I'm warming up slowly with some low-pressure doodles. Please enjoy this dumbass Karlach doodle I did based on this post for eons ago 🧡🔥

Please send me dumb ideas!!

[ornii]

I don't know if you write for her, but if you write for MJ from the MCU, what would it be like if she had a brother who didn't disappear in the blip, became a hero, and MJ finds out when he's injured one night and tries to help him with the hero stuff?

You’re worthy , Loser.

“Mister Jones, can you tell us the definition of Biometric identification?”

You looked up from the football plays you were trying to remember in the middle of class, everyone turned to you and expected an answer.

“Oh, yeah it’s the process of verifying a person's identity through their unique biological characteristics such as fingerprints, iris scans, facial recognition, and voiceprints.” You replied, actually surprising most. You went back to your plays as per usual. Football wasn’t a major factor in your life as you could go without it, but anything for a scholarship you thought. It just so happens that you’re really good at it. Class ended pretty normally and now you had to go find your Sister. Walking down the halls of Midtown High. You didn’t spot her usual spot to brood so you had an idea of where she would be; Detention.

Peering into the Class you saw the substitute and of course M.J doodling. You leaned in the doorway.

“Trouble again?” You joked, MJ turned to you, that clandestine face.

“No I just like to come here and, sketch people in crisis.” She eyes the Substitute teacher. You roll your eyes and lean forward.

“Well if you’re done making people’s lives much harder than they already are, we have to get home. You have a trip or whatever to prep for.” You turned and walked away, knowing MJ was reluctantly behind you.

“So, did you actually make any friends?” You asked, you couldn’t see it but you could almost hear her slouch when you said it.

“Why does it matter if I had friends to you exactly?” She asked you.

“Because good friends keep you from doing really dumb things. And when I graduate I want to make sure you have a few good ones.” You turned around, walking backwards. MJ always hated that you did it.

“I highly doubt I’d do something that bad, plus our “Social circles” if you can call it that are in completely different places. And can you stop walking backwards it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, you’re just bad at it.” You said, you side stepped, avoiding a branch.

“How do you do that?”

“It’s about knowing where you’re gonna be.” You replied. “Hey.. did you see the new Thor Display? Apparently they found his broken hammer and put the pieces on display. You think if it was back together that I could lift it?” You asked, MJ smirked.

“You think you’re a god?”

“Well, no.. isn’t the point is that you’re worthy or something?” You asked, you turned back around as you saw your apartment complex. “I’m selfless i think?”

“If you have to think, probably not.” She replied, and you turned back to her.

“But you never answered, do you think I’m worthy?” You said, and for a moment, MJ was actually honest.

“Fine.. I think you’re worthy, because when dad left.. you turned into the dad I needed.” She admitted, when your father left it was, hard. You did what you had to do, being the dad MJ never had, you couldn’t leave your sister and mom to do this alone. You actually had to fight back tears slightly, you smiled and patted her on the shoulder.

“Thanks Michelle. I mean it.” You replied, and she shrugged. “Yeah, but don’t call me Michelle.”

“Walls came back up huh? Okay MJ.” You opened the door to your home and stepped in, to eerie silence. “Mom?” You asked, but heard nothing, it was odd, she’s usually here before you got home, you heard a sudden thud and turned around.

“Hey MJ—“ you spoke but the words failed to erupt, she was gone, missing. Dust flew out of the doorway as you saw her notebook on the ground. Obviously you were confused, you rushed out the house to see it was fear, terror around the block, around the city, the state… the world. You wished it was just some nightmare, but you never knew it was the last time you ever saw your sister.

It took a year for you to come to terms with it all, half other world’s population, gone. Standing in the school you stood at the trophy case, seeing the Award Michelle won at the Decathlon. She always had this spark about her, she acts like she didn’t care but she did. The rage and grief you felt slowly began to brew into a thunderstorm of what’s real and what’s not.

What’s real; is that you lost your family, to some entity you didn’t even know existed, and you can never exact your revenge.

What’s unreal; is that you’re going to let this ever happen again. With a punch of anger a storm brews, as you scream in anger and pain lightning slams into the earth, and the pieces of Thors hammer slowly levitate and slam together, a weapon reborn not from grief and hate, ready to protect the world so that this will never happen again, you were worthy.

Five Years pass, joining the remaining avengers to go back in time before The Events leading to the Snap. Once the infinity stones were taken from Thanos, Tony made the ultimate sacrifice, putting the life of the entire universe before his, and died a Hero.

Flying desperately though the air you almost forgot how to land, you hit the ground hard, hammer still in hand. You turned to the door and took a step towards it. It’s been years since you entered your family home, it was never the same. You stopped seeing the doorknob twist, you held for breath and waited in fear of what you were going to see, but it was all just in your mind.

MJ opened the door, a bit puzzled. She looked at you, obviously not understanding what’s going on.

“Why are you dressed like you’re going to Comic con?” She said, “You look.. older too.” She stepped down, looking at you like a stranger.

“What’s with the beard? And the hammer?” MJ opened her mouth to say something else but you hugged her tight. Overwhelmed with all of it, how happy you were couldn’t be put into words.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, you let MJ go, somehow not crushing her with your new godlike powers.

“So… it’s been five years.” You said, which made her raise an eyebrow. “Five?”

“Yeah.. you uh, died. A lot of people died, but you’re back now so… damn this is hard to explain.” You rubbed your face, exhausted, MJ saw the look on yours.

“Just, come inside, you can explain it to me at your pace.” She calmly takes your hand leading you in, you did look exhausted, and probably traumatized. Five years of fighting to get your family back.

In my opinion, you are worthy.