#i didnt realize that this was like a thing

[ihavenothingoops]

im american and i have gotten jumpscared by americaness or just america in general (i also grew up with a lot of non-american influences which is probably the reason) (also there are a lot of things i don’t realize don’t really exist in the us like mince pies arent a big thing neither is christmas pudding and i learned a few days ago most americans don’t do christmas crackers which i find strange and the lack of kettles is very strange tea should never be made in the microwave and also i will randomly mention something to a friend and they’ll get confused bc its not an american thing and i celebrate guy fawks and i grew up watching rugby at an irish pub as a toddler and when i was getting older and never thought it was strange and would get a full english and eat it all from the age of 3 or 4 and i spell some words in the english manner and learned a lot of stuff from books so i don’t have a super typical vocabulary sometimes and i have read some books that aren’t read very often in america and i got confused when my younger sister thought school houses were made up for hogwarts bc i always knew that was a thing and i grew up getting concerned when peopole did a flipped peace sign and also not sure how mainstream this is in australia but i grew up with six white boomers and i forgot the words saran wrap and plastic wrap so i said cling film and didnt have american cheese for much of my life and have consistenly known more european geography than us until i had to learn us geography in school)

whenever someone calls USAmerican English the 'movie accent' I remember how somewhere last year I was on a train when suddenly the silence was broken by an american voice behind me somewhere and I immediately thought "Oh no, someones playing their tiktoks out loud again" and automatically turned around to put a face to my annoyance like you do when someones driving bad, and turns out a few rows down were just some actual in the flesh USAmericans having a nice conversation amongst themselves. I am sorry Americans I'm glad they let you out of the phone

[hoe4hotchner]

can you dooooo, secret relationship with reader owning a 5 star restraunt??? the entire team goes there on rossi's dime and everyone finds out because the chef keeps coming to the table again and again and hotch was given a dessert he didnt order and all of his food was removed from the bill??

Étoile | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Chef fem!reader | WC: 1k | CW: Fluff, food, wine

A/N: I honestly just realized that I forgot the part about the bill.

The scent of roasted garlic, seared steak, and freshly baked bread filled the air as Hotch followed the rest of his team into Étoile. Everyone in the city seemed to rave about the five-star restaurant. The interior was a masterpiece of elegance — something that looked like it came straight out of a French Château — with its low lighting, polished wood and golden accents, and flickering candlelight casting a glow over the tables.

Rossi had insisted on treating the team to a celebratory dinner after their caseload lately, and he had, of course, spared no expense.

The team marveled as they were led to their table — a spot tucked into a private alcove that provided a perfect view of the open kitchen. Hotch felt a flicker of nerves as he glanced in that direction, and his eyes found you instantly, at the center of the busy kitchen, directing your staff with a calm yet authoritative nature to you — one that was rarely seen in the field.

You looked brilliant in your chef's coat, hair neatly tied back, your focus shifting seamlessly from one task to another. Hotch quickly looked away, feigning interest in the wine menu as the host seated them. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to notice how intently his gaze lingered on you.

But, of course, fate had other plans.

Just as the team settled into their seats, you stepped out of the kitchen, your confident stride drawing their attention immediately. A polite, professional smile curved your lips as you approached the table.

"Good evening, everyone," you greeted warmly, your voice carrying easily over the soft hum of the restaurant. "Welcome to Étoile. I’m the executive chef and owner, (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to have you dining with us tonight."

“Wow,” Garcia said, her eyes wide as she glanced around the dining room before settling on you. “This place is gorgeous! And you own it? That’s amazing!”

You offered her a genuine smile. “Thank you. I hope you’ll all enjoy tonight’s menu. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Your gaze flicked ever so briefly to Hotch, the corner of your mouth lifting in a barely perceptible smile. It was a fleeting glance, gone almost as quickly as it came, but Hotch caught it — and so did Rossi, though he said nothing.

The team, oblivious to the exchange, returned their attention to their menus, already discussing what they might order. Hotch, on the other hand, shifted in his seat, his nerves bubbling just beneath his exterior.

As the evening went on, the telltale signs of your connection to each other began to unfold.

You checked on their table personally — not once, but several times, despite the fact that the restaurant was fully booked. Each time, you lingered just a fraction longer than necessary, your smile a little softer when your eyes met Hotch’s.

When the entrees arrived, Hotch’s plate was different from what he’d ordered. It wasn’t a mistake; it was a refined, elegant dish not listed on the menu. The server placed it in front of him with a knowing smile.

“This is Chef’s special request,” the server explained.

Hotch blinked, his expression giving away nothing, though he was certain his team noticed the slight shift in his posture.

“Special request, huh?” Morgan said, leaning back in his chair and eyeing the plate. “Man, must be nice to get VIP treatment.”

Hotch only gave a tight smile, his response curt. “I’m sure it’s just part of the service.”

The night continued, the atmosphere lively as the team enjoyed their meal and laughed over Rossi’s insistence on ordering the most expensive wine. But the final nail in the coffin came with dessert.

The team had ordered a selection to share — an assortment of tarts, soufflés, and pastries. But when the desserts were brought out, the server placed an additional plate in front of Hotch — a chocolate soufflé adorned with a delicate swirl of raspberry coulis and a small chocolate garnish.

Hotch frowned. “I didn’t order this.”

The server smiled, unfazed. “Compliments of the chef.”

Morgan arched a brow, his curiosity piqued. “Compliments of the chef? Again? Alright, Hotch, what’s going on here?”

“Yeah,” JJ chimed in, grinning. “You’ve been getting the royal treatment all night.”

Hotch opened his mouth to deflect, but before he could respond, Rossi leaned forward, his tone teasing. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed, Aaron. The chef herself has been hovering over this table like a moth to a flame.”

Garcia’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. Wait a second — Hotch, do you know her? Like, know her know her?”

Before Hotch could say anything, you appeared at the table once more, a light laugh escaping your lips as you held up your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, don’t be too hard on him. It’s true.”

The team turned to stare at you.

“Hotch and I…” You glanced at him with a soft smile. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

For a moment, there was a stunned silence over the group. Then Morgan let out a low whistle.

“Hotch,” he said, shaking his head in mock disbelief, “you’ve been holding out on us. A five-star chef? Man, you’re full of surprises.”

Garcia clapped her hands together. “This is amazing! I have so many questions. How did you meet? How long has this been going on? Oh, and please tell me he helps you in the kitchen sometimes because I’m picturing it, and it’s adorable!” The pictures played in her brain, mixing with the memory of cooking omelets with Hotch.

As the team bombarded you both with questions, Hotch met your gaze across the table, a faint blush shading his cheeks. Despite the exposure of your relationship, a warmth spread in his chest.

You reached out to squeeze his hand briefly before pulling away, your voice tinged with humor as you answered the team’s questions to the best of your abilities, making sure not to overstep Hotch's boundaries with the information you let pass.

[astronnova]

trying to figure out how i would wanna draw both of them inbtwn working on shtuff

ramblings under the cut

ok *cracks knuckles* excuse my design ramblings

vlad & danny are such interesting parallels to me esp if u wanna play more into the horror aspect of the show. vlad to me is the kind of horror vampires bring, they're attractive and alluring with large spiked gothic mansions as they suck you dry before you even register what happened.

danny is more like... small town radioactive horror? to me? does that make sense??? the horror of feeling, of knowing something is wrong with one of your classmates in your small, middle of bumfuck nowhere town. you know something is up, but he's still here walking around like always.

unfortunately my style is basically rip off anime LMFAO and i've never been good at communicating horror (falls to my knees and cries) but phantom could be so creepy and eerie. a seemingly teen boy in a hazmat suit, with a gas mask and/or goggles, wandering the streets at night, floating over streetlamps and making them and traffic lights buzz on and off. also electric core danny. he died to electrocution his ass is electric i do not Care what the show says, frost core danny can eat my ass🖕 (sorry to the frost danny likers. i do have an idea for the frost core thou)

my friend gave me the idea of making vlad snake-like too to match danny as a badger, snakes and badgers are natural enemies and all that. plus i didnt realize until after i drew it but vlad's hair and cape give him the silhouette around the head of a cobra! so i gave vlad cobra stripes on his ghost tail

i really like the idea of vlad kind of representing what danny could be. he represents the allure of power and letting go of your humanity i guess. he's petty, selfish, and has definitely murdered a couple people just because he felt like it. i know there are bones in the walls of his manor i just Know it. which i feel could be a fun way to rethink danny's first interaction with plasmius proper, maybe danny figures out who some wisconsin serial killer is with the added bonus of finding bones and rotting clothes in the walls of the basement because. ghost powers. and only another ghost could hide a body that way. ya feel me? its cool. kinda just rambling atp

i played around with giving danny a full face gas mask but i didnt like them too much. the goggles im on the fence about, i wanted them to be the same round goofy goggles maddie and jack wear but it takes away from the potential creep factor i feel... or maybe i just dont know how to draw it creepy (yet). he doesn't need the gas mask as a ghost but it would help hide his face i think. thats one thing, im watching eps with some friends who arent really into the show like i am and they keep asking how tf does no one know its danny and i just have to gently put my hand on their shoulder and tell them its cartoon logic. but for this! i feel like danny's face would be harder to see, like he's usually engaged in combat and when he's not he still has that gas mask and goggles combo, and its not like his hair looks the same like it does in canon.

ok crazy people ramblings OVER

[frobby]

Yukio doesn't realize rin was lonely because he was key contributor to said loneliness

[viiennie]

𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

Gojo Satoru x f!reader

chapter one

Tags and warnings: Zombie Apocalypse, mentions of gore (including blood and death), slight angst (?), spoilers to ‘Happiness’, eventual smut, female reader, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, lovey dovey sex in the midst of a literal lock down, masturbation, slow burn kinda?, fluff, romance, drugs, manipulation, exhibition, gojo is a pervertttttt, mdni — 18+, enemies to lovers word count: 4093

You never thought that at the ripe age of 29, you’d be taking walks for the sole purpose of hoping to find dropped money on the road. 

Hey, You can’t be blamed now, can you? Life is completely unpredictable, and you’re just glad you at least have an apartment to sleep in and a job that pays kinda enough. But what can you do when the bills are still high, and you still got a loan to settle? Your salary barely covers your living expenses, and you’ve got those damn loan sharks to be worrying about to add to the list. 

You always thought life would go well after graduating Criminology and getting a job in the military. To top it all off, you climbed the ranks and secured a respectable position without getting your hands dirty. Back then, you lived on the tallest floor of your dream apartment and bought all your dream cars to drive and wake the neighbors with.

It was the sweetest life had gotten. 

If only you didnt—

Riiiiiing!

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, the lights flashing as the name of your boss along with the picture of a very stern looking pig pops up on screen. You sigh, staring at it and pondering if you should answer the call. Your finger hovers over the green logo, a hesitation in the twitch of your digits as you debate missing the call and getting a handful of scolding when you go to work or answering and getting the same amount of scolding for something stupid you probably did while on the job. 

Another sigh leaves your lips when you decide to answer.

“There’s a job for you. I emailed all the details to you.”

He hangs up, not even bothering to hear a response from you. 

God, he’s always like that. Acting like some VIP, treating everyone else like they were below him. Countless times have you slapped the shit out of him in your dreams, and countless times have you hurled curses at him behind his back. Why’s there always a stick up his ass anyway?

You open the pdf file in your email, groaning at the 42 pages you have to read over. 

You work as a bodyguard now, the only place that didn’t blacklist you being an executive protection services company. Your job was to make sure your clients stayed out of harm's way, and so far, it’s been an absolute piece of cake compared to your previous occupation. You just had to stand behind them, look intimidating, and keep that up for the rest of the day.

As you skim over the file, you realize that this was the typical case of a nepo baby being rebellious whilst getting neglected by their parents. It was always, ‘I just can’t seem to control my teenager’ ‘He gets out of hand and always ends up almost killing himself.’ but they have never considered the fact that they’ve barely present in their child’s life?

Your duties consisted of absurd things, like cooking and making meals for the client, ensuring he does not leave the house, and even doing the laundry. A rise of annoyance boils in you as you continue to read down your responsibilities—things that nannies would do. If they wanted to hire one then they should’ve contacted someone else, not a body guarding company. Besides, why was this task assigned to you and not someone more qualified? You don’t ever remember putting ‘experienced nanny’ in your resume. 

No. You’re not doing this. You had your pride to—

Total Salary: 15,000,000 ₩ per day.

Well, it’s not like taking care of a child is that hard right? Besides, you do these so-called duties everyday for yourself! Not like adding an extra pair of clothes to the washing machine or cooking for two would be that hard. And! you get to sleep in a million dollar penthouse for three whole days, who wouldn’t miss that offer? And the living expenses are covered by your client too? Man, the pros are really outweighing the cons right now. 

You carefully read through the pages, scanning over the personal details of your new beloved client.

Full Name: Gojo Satoru

Birthday: 1994 December 7

Age: 28

Gender: Male

You blink

Once, twice, and then thrice.

Are you seeing this right?

The person you’re going to be babysitting is in fact not a little boy, but a grown ass man at the ripe age of 28? The person you’re going to be cooking and cleaning for is a grown adult capable of doing these daily chores with all of his four limbs intact? This couldn’t possibly be right, could it? You shake your head, scrolling back to look at the delicious view of the 15 million displayed on your phone screen. So what if it was a grown man? That means you wouldn’t have to be too worried about buying toddler food and all that, right? And him being an adult means he’s perfectly capable of doing his own chores, meaning, less work for you! 

Yeah, that’s right.

Things don’t have to be negative.

You inhale, gathering your thoughts and prayers, hoping this wasn’t about to be the worst decision of your life. No way it will be. It’s just for three short days anyway. And what if you actually end up getting along well with the guy?

Day One

Standing before these grand doors bring back memories you never liked. It reminded you of what you used to be—what kind of glory you used to hold. The keys in your palms feel cold, like ice that doesn’t melt despite the warmth your skin radiates. It feels illegal entering someone’s home without knocking— it's like you’re trespassing. But what can you do when those are your instructions?

The door to the penthouse swings open, the sound echoing through the spacious hall. The moment you step inside, the air feels different—cool, fresh, like everything in this space was designed with immaculate precision. You take a second to absorb the layout: sleek, minimalistic furniture, modern art pieces hanging from the walls, soft ambient lighting, and large glass windows that offer a wonderful view of the city. It’s everything you’d expect from a man who has money to burn but little else to do with it. It’s also everything you’ve ever wanted ever since falling into this pit of poverty.

You take another step in, and the door closes behind you with a soft click—a sound that tells you you’ve just sealed your fate. You take a deep breath in, to prepare your beating heart, and exhale, reminding yourself that you’re here now, and that this is really happening. 

“Hello?” you call out, your voice carrying a bit farther than you intended in the vast silence. You wait for a response, but there’s nothing but an eerie stillness. You feel awkward in this large space, your senses used to the small cozy apartment you lived in. You feel like a misplaced object here, like a piece of banana peel in the middle of a diamond sea. 

Then, suddenly, you hear a loud thud from what sounds like the far side of the apartment, followed by a burst of laughter. It’s carefree and youthful, almost too much so for someone who’s supposed to be the CEO’s son. Your eyes narrow as you start walking further into the apartment, your boots clicking sharply against the polished floor.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!" The voice calls out lazily, not even bothering to sound apologetic.

You stop in your tracks as a figure finally appears at the threshold of what you assume is the study. Satoru Gojo strides out, looking like he couldn’t care less about your presence. His white hair is slightly messy, falling carelessly over his forehead, and he’s dressed casually in a loose-fitting white shirt and black pants, the kind of outfit someone of his status might wear to keep things comfortable while still looking polished. You stare at him for a moment, noting how his playful, almost mischievous grin makes him seem like someone who hasn’t taken a single thing seriously in his life. Maybe this is why they told you to just walk in without warning. This guy didn’t even bother standing up the moment he heard someone entering his home.

“So, you’re the new babysitter?” His tone is light, amused, and you can already tell he’s not taking this job seriously at all. He doesn’t even bother to get off the couch, merely reclining with his legs sprawled out in front of him. “I thought they’d send someone with a little more... personality.”

Your lips press into a tight line, frustration rising in your chest. This was the guy you were supposed to be protecting? It was a far cry from what you had imagined. It’s okay! You expected this. I mean, the pay wouldn’t be 15 million for no reason right? All you had to do was endure this asshat for 3 days, and you’d be out, never having to do it again with the amount of money you’ll accumulate by then. 

“I’m not your babysitter, Gojo,” you reply flatly, setting the file down on the coffee table between you. “I’m here to ensure you stay out of trouble for the next three days.”

He doesn’t seem fazed, however. He tilts his head back and stretches his arms over his head with a casual ease that only someone with his kind of wealth and status could pull off. “Oh, come on, you don’t have to be so serious all the time, miss. Relax a little. This doesn’t have to be a hard job, does it?” 

You nod, a small, twitching smile on your lips. Yeah, this doesn’t have to be hard for the two of you, just don’t let yourself be absorbed into his insufferableness, and things will be all fine and dandy.

The smile on his face never fades, though there’s something in his eyes—something that makes you realize he’s enjoying the tension between you more than he should. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he regards you with a look that borders on teasing. “Don’t worry miss bodyguard, I’ll make sure to cooperate extra well for you,” he says, his voice oozing with mock sincerity.

Gojo’s eyes flicker with curiosity for a brief moment before his grin turns more knowing. You were far from what he expected. When his father told him he’d be hiring professionals to keep him in check, he was expecting a middle aged old grump with a tragic backstory, not an angry little kitten that was his age. 

You take a deep breath, keeping your cool. You’re a professional. You endured 4 years of brutal training, and spent the next 5 years being an active soldier, one man child isn’t gonna break you. “Where do we start?”

“Start?” Gojo repeats, his eyes twinkling with a challenge. “I’ll give you a tour of the place. Get settled in, and we’ll figure things out from there.” All of a sudden, he’s all buddy-buddy and normal, standing from his seat with a groan that tells you it’s the first time in a few long hours he’s standing from that couch.

“Okay,” you mutter, though you know the last thing you need is to be stuck following him around all day. But you have no choice now—this is the job you so happily accepted. Perhaps you just had a bad first impression, right? Maybe this is just his personality and he’s actually a nice guy under all that ego!

Gojo leads you through the penthouse with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, his movements exaggerated for your benefit. The whole time, you feel his eyes on you, like he’s analyzing you as much as you’re analyzing him. He talks non-stop, making sarcastic comments here and there, each one more annoying than the last, and you keep your responses short but interactive. Last thing you wanna hear is him whining about you being a cold person. 

When you finally arrive at the guest room, he gestures dramatically to the sleek, modern decor. “There you go. It’s not much, but it’ll do for the next ten days. I hope you like the view,” he adds, pulling back the heavy curtain to reveal a stunning view of the city skyline, one you’ve seen countless times in your dreams. 

You take a step inside, but before you can say anything, Gojo’s already made his way back to the living room. “I’ll be in my office if you need me. Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

As you stand there, staring at the sprawling apartment, you feel a strange tension in the air. You’ve dealt with dangerous situations, but this—this was something else. This penthouse may be the safest area in the entire apartment complex, but there’s something in here that greatly unsettles you, that what’s dangerous isn’t outside of this place, but inside. Your eyes linger on the door that your manchild is behind and you finally realize how hard your heart is thumping against your chest. 

It’s Gojo.

Gojo’s the dangerous one here. 

Shaking your head, you set down your bags, neatly placing them against the door before you pull out your phone to check if there were any updates from your boss—any additional information or duties perhaps, but your notification bar is empty. (thankfully)

Ding!

Omg, have you heard about the attack at the training center?

You raise an eyebrow at the text you received from a friend that was followed by a 10 second video she sends. The thumbnail sends chills down your spine, the image of an unsettling trainee with bloodshot eyes and protruding veins being the first thing you see. He has blood dripping down his chin, his teeth stained with a deep red. There's no possible way that was real. This is probably a prank, right?

As you play the video, you realize the unmoving body in the background with blood pooling around it isn't a prank. Neither is the way the zombie thing continues to bang its head against the glass part of the door where the cameraman stands behind. You can hear people screaming in the background and the labored breathes of the person holding the camera.

What the fuck?

For this type of thing to happen in a military training center is unheard of. With the amount of security and the amount of trained professionals around, they would shoot at the sight of suspicious movement. Perhaps that trainee was infected in the facility itself?

You sigh, shaking your head. That wasn't for you to worry about. You're sure they've already taken care of the situation, making sure no one else would be harmed after one casualty. Besides, you weren't even in the military anymore, so what business did you have with all this?

You lock your phone and toss it onto the counter with a bit more force than intended, the dull clatter echoing in your quiet apartment. For a moment, you stand there, staring at the blank wall in front of you, the disturbing video replaying itself in your mind despite your best efforts to shake it off. It was none of your business, you remind yourself. You weren't a part of that world anymore—no chain of command, no classified briefings, no need to carry the weight of threats on your shoulders.

Still, the unease lingers like an itch you can't quite scratch. The image of that bloodied trainee and the helpless body in the background refuses to leave your thoughts, clawing its way into the forefront no matter how hard you try to shove it back. The screams and the clattering of rushes footsteps ring in your ears like a broken radio.

“Snap out of it,” you mutter to yourself, dragging a hand through your hair. Standing still wasn’t helping. Maybe you just needed to clear your head, step outside for a bit and distract yourself with something mundane. Groceries. That was the perfect excuse to leave this place. And besides, it would help to restock in the case that a zombie apocalypse would really break out soon.

Opening the door, you’re surprised to see Gojo sitting in the living room, manspread as he switches through the channels with a bored look on his face. His eyes glaze over to you, a grin stretches through his lips. “Out so soon? I know my face is irresistible, but you barely spent 5 minutes in there, miss bodyguard.” As soon as he opens his mouth, it’s like flies are flocking over to him. You push aside the feeling of annoyance, not wanting to waste energy on him. 

“I’m going out to buy groceries. Is there anything you want?” You sigh for the fifth time today, hand resting on the doorknob of the front door. 

“Anything sweet pleaseee” He hums sending you a wink that has you cringing before focusing back on the TV.

Nodding, you make sure the credit card provided to you is safe in your pocket before heading out. You’re greeted by a kind cleaning lady who smiles at you with fondness, “My, I didn’t know such a pretty young lady lived here!” Her voice is soft, reminding you of your grandmother whom you dearly miss. You smile back at her, feeling yourself relax in her presence, “I’m not moving in, auntie. Just staying with a friend for a few days.”

“Oh my, that’s a shame. I would have loved to see you everyday!”

You chuckle at her response, politely saying goodbye before stepping into the empty elevator. 

Whilst you were out on a grocery store run, Gojo shuts off the TV, a serious expression overturning his previously cheerful one. He was getting sick and tired of his father hiring these people to watch over him like he was a child. Being a detective was a step he took to free himself from the chains of being born into his family, a step he took to rebel against his unreasonable father, who was a businessman obsessed with continuing his legacy, he didn't expect the price he had to pay would be getting house arrested by his father in his own home with some stranger.

He hops off of the couch, walking over to your room and opening the door without a care in the world. He snoops through your things, looking through your identification cards, opening all the pockets in your bag. He’s surprised when he discovers an ID tucked away in the deepest depths of your bag, as if you didn't want to see it but kept it with you because you didn't want to let go.

​​Gojo's fingers brush against the smooth, metallic edge of the card as he pulls it out of the hidden pocket in your bag. The ID feels substantial in his hands, heavier than an ordinary card, exuding an air of authority and importance. He almost feels guilty snooping around like this.

The front of the card is dominated by a sleek, black matte finish that absorbs light, giving it a tactical, almost stealth-like appearance. At the top, bold silver letters gleam against the dark background:

“13th Special Mission Brigade”

Below that, a faint watermark of the Decapitation Unit’s insignia—a black panther—catches the light at certain angles, visible only upon close inspection. 

Your photograph occupies the upper-left corner, a stern, no-nonsense expression on your face. You wear your ceremonial full dress uniform, badges of what you've done and where you've been displayed onto the clean cloth. Next to the photo, your name is printed in capital letters, the font crisp and official: 

Y/N L/N

Lieutenant Colonel, Decapitation Unit

Beneath your name, your serial number and rank are listed in smaller, but equally precise text, alongside a QR code that has been scratched out, an occurrence that happens only if you've been discharged from duty.

The right side of the card displays the unit's motto in embossed silver script:  

Silence in Action, Swift in Justice.

Just below the motto is a small holographic seal that shifts between the South Korean flag and the emblem of the Decapitation Unit, further verifying its authenticity that Gojo was most definitely not doubting at this point. Around the edges, faintly visible microtext runs continuously, forming a border of tiny but legible words repeating:  

For honor, for country, for the safety of all.

On the back, the design is equally meticulous. The background is a faint camouflage pattern in shades of gray and black, with a magnetic stripe running across the top. Centered in bold red letters is a warning:  

AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY: This card must be presented upon request. Unauthorized use is punishable by law.

Beneath it, a small, clear rectangular panel reveals an embedded fingerprint that has also been scratched out by a blade. The rest of the back contains rows of text detailing clearance levels, blood type, and emergency contact information.

Gojo turns the card over in his hands, raising an eyebrow. "So, former Lieutenant Colonel, huh?" he murmurs to himself, a mix of admiration and suspicion flickering in his eyes. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he slipped the card back where he found it, making sure to tuck it away with the same care. 

“Guess you’re not as simple as you seem, miss bodyguard,” he mutters, stepping out of your room. The gears in his mind are already turning, trying to piece together just how someone with your past ended up here, protecting him.

The buzzing of your phone on the bedside table catching his attention, the constant dings sending a mix of irritance and curiosity through him. Well, he’s already touched all your things, what more was a phone? He takes the phone in his hands, testing his luck by typing 12345 in. He face palms when your phone opens, wondering why a special forces agent would set a password like that on her phone. He opens the chat that’s been spamming you, skimming over the ‘y/n stop ignoring meee’ ‘i know you’re seeing this’ and the random emojis being sent. 

A video with the thumbnail equivalent to a zombie horror movie garners his attention, his finger tapping the play button without much thought, thinking he’d be watching some kind of trailer to an upcoming film. But he’s met with a gruesome sight, the same thing you had watched before leaving. His eyebrows furrowed as he tries to comprehend the scene.

Then he’s reminded of a recent case he investigated before being locked in this penthouse by his father. It was manslaughter, with the victim being the front desk worker of a motel. The crime scene was gruesome—bite marks and ripped flesh along the neck of the man. They had originally thought the perpetrator fled from the scene, but as he scanned the room, he discovered the motherfucker hiding under the bed, his mouth still dripping with blood. “I don’t remember much of what happened.” He said as they interrogated him on the scene, “I just took this drug, and before I knew it, I kinda blacked out.” 

He had originally thought it was a classic case of reckless manslaughter under the influence of illegal narcotics because the perpetrator seemed perfectly human. No bloodshot eyes and no visible veins like in the video he watched. 

Perhaps they were completely unrelated. 

He’s about to erase all evidence of him snooping around your phone until the last message your friend sends makes him pause.

‘They say he returned to normal when he was transported into the vehicle, that’s so freaky!’ 

Okay, they’re definitely related.

He puts your phone back on the table, rushing to his room where he opens his drawer and removes the hidden compartment that contained a capsule he found in the crime scene of the motel safely sealed in a tiny ziplock bag. It’s clear blue with a shine around the edges. He opens his laptop, entering the police force search engine and encoding his badge number before surfing the net for information about a blue capsule drug. 

The most similar one in appearance is a treatment drug for pneumonia called, ‘Next’. It had failed due to the fact that it was mutagenic, meaning it had the chance of mutating human DNA. 

It didn’t take a lot of brain cells to conclude that this drug was probably the cause for the odd series of events. Judging from the way an apocalypse hasn’t started and he doesn’t hear people screaming for their lives, then the military probably has this disease under control. Just when he’s about to sigh from relief, he hears a loud thud from the hallway of his apartment building, followed by three more before an eerie silence deafens him. He has half the mind to check outside, but he knows that’s probably the last thing he wants to do. The amount of horror movies he’s binge watched tells him that the first to die is always the one to check whatever’s going on.

Then his front door opens. 

“(y/n)...?” He calls out, goosebumps rising on his skin. 

“Gojo, stay in your room.”

He’s not sure why, but he’s relieved it’s you who walked through that door, and not some flesh eating monster.

a/n: first chapter outtt yaaayyyyy!!!! kinda scared for this series bc the premiere didnt get a lot of attention😞 anyway!! hope u guys enjoyed this chapter💖

taglist: @atomicweaselpaperapricot @boothillglazer

[artslovergirl]

Stanford!art as a secret admirer pleaaaaase

hiii! sorry this took me literally a month to finish i am still not very good at keeping a drabble a drabble and this one really got away from me but i promise in the future that hopefully wont be the case....anywhoo! enjoy! (ty for being my first request ever!) also shoutout to diya for helping me a bit with characterizing art having a crush on someone! mwah!

admittedly, art felt like a creep. not enough to stop sneaking glances at you across the lecture hall but definitely enough to feel hot shame crawl up his neck whenever you would accidentally meet his eye contact.

he quickly glanced away and stared back at the blackboard, trying to pretend that's what he had been looking at all along.

he began fiddling with his pen, pushing the plastic end of it nervously against his lips. he could feel your eyes on him for a few moments longer before turning back around to face the professor.

great. now you probably actually thought he was a creep. which is not exactly how he planned your first form of contact to go.

...alright, to be fair, he never had an exact plan in the first place? but "make awkward eye contact" wouldn't have been a part of it. that's for sure.

he was a little out of his element here. stanford was a hell of a lot bigger than mark rebellato was.

back there, most of the girls knew him, sometimes even liked him already or he had patrick as his wingman. (or when it came to tashi, competition.) but here? he felt so unsure all of a sudden. it felt like all of the experience he had with dating seemed completely useless.

when he first saw you, he was still pretty infatuated with tashi. but that doesnt mean he didnt notice how hot you were. as more time passed the more he realized that tashi and patrick were apprently locked in (go figure the dude finally learns commitment just in time. read bitterness.) and the more he saw you, the more he heard you talk in class, the more he saw you laugh with your friends, the more you wouldnt leave his mind. not to mention how fucking smart you were. well, are.

the lecture ended and as always you were one of the first people out the door. you were always in a rush. or maybe you just had another class all the way on the other side of campus?

he wondered what your major was. he wondered if you knew he played tennis. he wondered if it would even impress you if you found out. he hoped it would.

---

art was sitting in the cafeteria stabbing his fork into his salad that consisted of like 70% veggies and 30% eggs.

he had to say, he was definitely getting sick of eggs at this point. he took a small sip of his gatorade.

usually, he drank blue, but he decided to try red today. maybe because it was patrick's favorite flavor or maybe because he needed at least a little change in routine.

unfortunately, as he went to place the bottle back down on the table, he almost knocked it over as soon as he suddenly noticed you standing by the vending machine. and then turning around. and.. walking towards him? holy shit.

at first, he thought you would just walk past him, but you stopped at his table. he didn't know if he believed in god, but at that moment, he certainly felt like a favorite.

"hey," you smiled politely, "sorry to bother you, but do you happen to have a quarter? that thing doesn't seem to take nickles." you nodded your head towards the vending machine at the entrance of the cafeteria.

"uh." his brain tried to play catch up. "um, yeah, let me check." he let out a small chuckle so he wouldn't sound so nervous, but it sounded more like he was wheezing. he pulled out his wallet, ripped apart the velcro, and checked. he silently celebrated when he noticed he did, in fact, have a few quarters. "yeah, how many do you need?" he looked up at you. his cheeks felt hot.

"oh, just one is fine." he nods, and suddenly, in front of your presence, it seems a lot harder to properly grab the quarter from his wallet. he does manage, though, and as he hands it to you, he feels your fingers brush against his palm.

as if transferred from your fingertips to his palm it felt like a surge went through his body, traveling through his arteries and sparking at the tips of his fingers and toes. you hand him your nickels in exchange. before you could turn to leave, he quickly interjected, "we're in the same class, right? english literature?"

he didnt know where he was going with this, he just wanted to keep talking to you.

your eyes flashed with recognition.

"oh, yeah! art, right? you sit behind me?" you knew his name. "yeah, yeah, that's right." he nodded, his fingers drummed against the table. there was a short lull in the conversation as he desperately tried to grasp for anything to talk about that wouldn't seem like he was hitting on you (even though he kind of was.)

"so, uh, this is actually good timing because i've been sorta meaning to talk to you anyway?" his lips pulled into a familiar charming lopsided smile.

"oh, really?" you tilted your head. "yeah." he nodded, his hand going to fidget with curls on the back of his neck that stuck out of his backwards cap.

"i, uh, need some help with some of the material, and, you know, you're so good-"

"oh, i'm not that-"

"nah, c'mon no need to be modest," there's that grin again, "i don't think i've ever seen you get a question wrong."

you huff, feeling embarrassed at the unexpected praise, "well, it's literature, so it's all interpretation, it's hard to be outright wrong."

"see, that answer just confirms it." he says.

you chuckle, finally giving in and accepting the compliment. "so..you want my help then?" he nods. he really prayed you would say yes because this was really his only plan on how to get to know you.

you mulled over it for a few seconds. then you nodded. "yeah, okay, let me give you my number and we can figure out the details later. i got another class in like-" you glanced back at the clock, "shit, 3 minutes."

you hastily ripped a piece of paper out of your notebook scribbled a number on it and left it on the table. "oh, and thanks for the quarter!" you yelled back (even though you didn't even get to use it) before booking it out of the cafeteria. guess he was right about you always being in a rush.

---

4:58 pm. 2 more minutes till you'd knock at his door. art did another once over of his room. now he wasn't exactly a messy guy but he had to admit his dorm had never been this clean before. actually maybe it was too clean...would you think that was weird? like would you think he was a neatfreak? girls probably weren't into that.

he began messing up his bedsheets just a little so it wouldnt look like he had just spent the past three hours obsessively cleaning every inch of his dorm. even though thats exactly what he did.

it was a pretty small room but you'd be surprised how long it can take to clean if you're doing a real deep clean. not to mention the pain in the ass that doing laundry in college was.

he did all of this because, keeping true to your word, you did make plans with him to help him out with some of the reading.

you : does 5pm on saturday work 4 u?? :-)

art : Yeah, I'm totally free!!

(in hindsight the two exclamation points were probably a bit much.)

just as he was about to check out his hair for the 5th time today, there was a knock on the door. he glanced at the little digital watch on his wrist. 5pm sharp. wow, you were punctual. was it weird that he found that hot?

art quickly brushes a few unruly curls that were sticking out of his backwards cap away with his fingers before moving to open the door.

---

"so, what's the exact stuff you're having trouble with?" you peered at him from his bed, which you were sitting on, which he was being very cool about.

you had asked him if it was okay to sit there after you had exchanged a few pleasantries and then chatted for about 10 minutes.

it was mostly about class at first, then turned into more personal topics. you asked him if he was on the tennis team, because of all the..well..tennis gear in his room.

he nodded and told you about his tennis scholarship. you chuckled and said you had never really watched any matches at stanford so far, but you'd like to see him play.

he really tried to not seem overly enthusiastic about that but he did tell you the exact time and date of his next match.

apparently, you thought the sport seemed "really impressive". ( i.e. you were impressed. i.e. you were impressed by him playing tennis. or that's at least how he heard it.)

then, after he found out you were an english major, which wasn't a surprise, you finally brought up the topic of studying.

he spun in his desk chair, to face you.

"just some of this..interpretive stuff...i feel like i never know what the professor wants to hear from me." he tapped the end of his pen against the book he was holding. "well.." you shifted into a cross-legged postion, you were wearing shorts and he was trying really hard not to stare at your legs.

"you probably shouldnt be thinking about that in the first place, you know, what the professor wants to hear? you should think about what you actually got from the book." he knew this was pretty standard advice but when you said it, it sounded like the most intelligent, world-changing thing he'd ever heard.

"riiight...what if i didnt get anything from it?" he smiled sheepishly, leaning his head on his hand. you scrunched up your nose and playfully rolled your eyes, "oh, come on, how can you read classic literature and not get anything from it? i don't believe that."

you scooted forward a little. a little closer to him. a nervous chuckle left his lips, his gaze swept back and forth between you and the book before settling on you.

truth be told, he was doing fine, at least grade-wise, and even if he wasn't, it wasn't like he was striving to become an english professor, he mostly decided to take this class on a whim. but the part about struggling with interpretations was true, it just maybe wasn't necessarily a dire enough situation to require your help...

"well, maybe youre not asking yourself the right questions before you read." you hummed, gently tapping your finger against your leg. "can i see your notes?"

art panicked a bit at that. he wasn't sure why, but suddenly someone looking at his notes felt oddly intimate. you would be able to read the bits and parts of the book he regarded as important enough to jot down. what he liked. what he didn't like. perhaps it was a little intimate.

he tried to play it casual, though, and nodded as he handed you his english lit folder. his nerves only got worse the longer you took to read through them.

then suddenly, you smiled and nodded a little bit before looking up at him again. he prayed that you couldn't see the way his heart was trying to escape his ribcage right now.

"you know, you couldve just asked me out."

before his brain could even process that sentence, his mouth seemed to go into immediate action to splutter out some kind of denial in order to salvage this, "what? i- no, no, that's not- i mean, seriously why would-"

"i mean, i wouldn't have said no. like you didn't have to pretend to need my help. you clearly don't need it-" you gently tossed his folder back onto the desk. "-plus you're cute."

he didn't move for a good few seconds until he finally caught up to what had just happened.

now, this would've been the moment where he would've liked to be really cool and smooth in his response, but instead what happened was: "um..so then are we..like are you.."

in his defense you kind of caught him off guard. like completely. he had had a plan. how the study sessions would transition into friendship, and then maybe, hopefully at some point would transition into dating. he was a patient guy, really, and you had just skipped like...everything.

"are you free tomorrow?" you asked, as you stood up to grab your bag. wow, you were really taking the wheel at this point. and he discovered that he had shockingly little problem with that.

"uh, yeah, yeah i'm free..like all day." he did have training in the morning but he truly would skip it just this once if it came down to it.

"2pm?"

"sure."

"i'll text you?"

"okay."

"so..it's a date?"

you had stood up from the bed and were suddenly already on your way out. probably because you could tell he needed a minute.

"yeah, a date." he nodded with a (almost lovestruck) smile he hadn't even noticed had snuck its way unto his lips. you reciprocated with an equally excited grin, "cool."

before he knew it, the door had clicked shut, and he was alone again. he felt warm.

"cool."

[nadianova]

nadia nova patch notes new year style

i dont like it when people i dont personally know refer to me as sister. the reason im posting this is cause previoulsy a was asked and i said sure whatevr do what you want. but now ive been reminded i dont want to encourage people to be overly familiar and parasocial with me since its already going to be happening anyway and has just been happening more and more over time

this thinf also counts for being horny at me. a while ago i was asking for and having fun receiving lots of horny asks and it was fun because i have kink autism but i repeatedly got asks directly targeted at me instead of opinions of the kinks themselves and i stopped answering and started just feeling annoyed. like its weird. im not here to jerk off with strangers im here to make things that just happen to be something to jerk off to. im not the target to be horny at, the target is my art

also quit it with the playful rudeness. like not just to me but in general. i dont want people who like my games saying mean things to me . like its different to send some blatant anon bully bit shitpost vs saying something like fuck you the art you made me cry i hate you

i dont want to disable my dms,turn off asks and itch io comments etc cause therye fun most of the time but its been happening more and more and i dont like it

it gets grating when there is one of me saying things at nobody specific in particular and in return its hundreds of you saying it to me. like surely nobody wants to be that person whos message im showing to my gf and being like i wish people didnt do this

like i know its insane to expect 'the internet' to behave differently but thats not what im after. this request is aimed at people who are cool and chill and empathetic and just forget or dont realize what my side is and would gladly do something differetly after having it pointed out

[lockettesstage]

outcast!chris making a charcoal drawing of crybaby!reader and she finds it absolutely stunning

You didn't even know that Chris had been drawing, okay well you knew he was drawing but you didn't know what he was drawing. He places down his charcoal crayon, hands dusty and stained jet black from the residue of the crayon, and gently rips out the page from his notebook.

"Uhm, this is uh- s'for you." He smiles and passes the paper to you. You grab it delicately, not wanting to crumple or tear the piece of paper. You almost don't recognize that it's you, but then you do and it has tears springing in your eyes because no one's ever taken any time to really notice you. The curve of your nose, the shadows that fall across your face when the sun hits you just right, the way your hair falls, and the little bit of frizz that's always a little bit there.

"Is this me, Chris?" You ask, stunned as you look up at him, doe eyes glassy with unshed tears. He nods and you pounce on him, attacking him with a hug. He falls back with a 'oomf' onto his bed, wrapping his arms around you and rocking side to side.

You place kisses all over his chest, pink lipgloss staining and stickying the fabric of his shirt. "Im guessing you like it?" Chris mumbles into your hair and you can feel his head tilt. "I love it! The man you are Christopher Owen the man you are." You smile as you shimmy down to sit up, not wanting to smack your head into his mouth, straddling him for a moment before leaning back down, hands placed on his chest to balance yourself, to kiss him.

Your lips slot with his, moving in sync for just a second before you pull back just enough to mumble, "Its stunning, Chris." Against his lips. You both smile against eachothers lips before he rolls you both over so he's on top of you instead. You're making out, a messy thing of tongues and lipgloss, before you realize you still have the page on the bed. You pull back, though it's hard due to the fact that your head is on the bed, and push Chris up into a sitting position.

He hovers a little confused as you wriggle out from under him to grab the page and place it on the nightstand. "I didnt wanna ruin it." You smile before your back under him and pulling him back down.

[mymoshangthoughts]

something something

modern au moshang where they're neighbors

and mobei jun has an active sex life

and shang qinghua is able to hear it through the thin walls

and look, he's not thirsting after his hot neighbor oki

but he's certainly not about to turn down free porn!

the only problem is that he has no idea that his neighbor has been thirsting after him this whole time and the various line of sex partners is just mobei jun trying to fill that shang qinghua sized whole in his life because no matter how he attempts to flirt with shang qinghua, the dude just keeps turning him down

(shang qinghua did not in fact know he was being flirted with, he's just been doing the polite but distant neighbor thing. but polite-distant-neighbor behavior very much reads as "im not into you bro")

shang qinghua secretly slut shaming mobei jun in his head, until he realizes "oh man, it'd be hot to slut shame him while fucking him" and thats when shang qinghua realizes that he, in fact, would totally like to bang his neighbor (up until this point, he basically just treated mobei jun like a porn star. fun to watch but you wouldnt really think about dating them)

now shang qinghua is getting a bit jealous of the nameless beauties and so he's launching plan "make that slut fuck me, force my way into his life, and then eventually like baby-trap him or something so he's forced to marry me"

shang qinghua is not ethical about his feelings one bit

(airplane is very powerful when a new kink is unlocked and he has to direct that horny energy SOMEWHERE)

mobei jun: /uselessly pining/ ive tried and failed and now im going to drown my sorrows in meaningless sex... :( ahh... but my heart still aches for him

shang qinghua: 🤔 i wonder if i can scam him into a fake marriage?

maybe they were childhood friends and shang qinghua 90% forgot about him LMAO or maybe just a lot of small meetings aorund the apartment building that were just boring and unmemorable to shang qinghua but just about stole mobei jun's heart lmaoooo

bonus: shang qinghua trying to slut shame mobei jun while riding his dick but winds up a crying mewling mess instead and afterwards he's shamelessly writing porn about it "nono its like, even better when a real bastard just starts crying" "...so you admit to being a bastard" "look, fuck off, and secondly, what is your stance on cockwarming?" (mobei jun is very much not prepared for what a kinky fuck shang qinghua is, like he's dtf, but man he didnt not realize that this guy had such an insatiable sex drive holyshit)

[lmaowhatt]

utterly obsessed? - five

summary: actress y/n I/n has recently skyrocketed into stardom after her breakout film 'castaways' alongside sarah cameron, kevin hart, chris evans and chris hemsworth. weeks after the movies premiere, she drops her debut single, further cementing her place in the spotlight. as millions of people around the world begin to idolize her, and as she struggles with her own demons, she catches the attention of rafe cameron, who doesnt shy away from becoming utterly obsessed in what seems to be the cutest way possible.

main masterlist

four - five - six

hellraisermovie

liked by youruser, rafecameron, jbr and 827k others

hellraisermovie out now! thank you to everyone who contributed on this project including our amazing directors @/davidbruckner and @/jbr. and a big thank you to the amazing actors who brought our vision to life.

youruser YAY!

rafecameron im so hot.

➯ user hes so self aware

➯ user some would call it cocky

brandonflynn BOW BOW BOW

user they fadiddled?!?!

➯ user using common sense isnt a thing apparently

user SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

adamfaison WHOO.

user shes so 😍😍😍

➯ user RIGHT? like fuck rafe shes so 🤤

msjamieclayton thanks for this opportunity!

user that entire scene had me like 😧🫣🫨

➯ user real

rafecameron

liked by youruser, sarahcam and 1.0 million others

rafecameron hellraiser out now!

sarahcam ur so gross ew.

➯ rafecameron puhlease im obviously the better sibling🙄

➯ jbr i beg to differ

user seriously somebody sedate me

user i js know its rough

jbr why are you always bald

➯ rafecameron thats it, where are my clippers

popeh you're getting it tn

➯ cleopatty im right here.

➯ rafecameron so?

user raw, next question.

user guys.. i fear that 'i love you' maybe didnt sound scripted

➯ user she had a line after.. it was scripted 💀

user body so tea, both of them

➯ user seriously unfair 😔

user some ppl need to be put down😧

youruser

liked by rafecameron, sarahcam, jjmay and 928k others

youruser hellraiser, out now! hope you guys enjoy!

sarahcam YES HAWT MAMA marry me

➯ jbr i object.

➯ youruser overruled.

jjmay WOOHOO.

*liked by creator*

user dont sedate me just put me down.

kiekie yo.. forget my man i want YOU

➯ jjmay something tells me he would not approve nor be ok with this. a hunch

➯ user hmm...

jbr love you!

cleopatty someone check my vitals

user the rafe likes are getting too frequent and i fw it.

popeh no cs this ate i fear.

➯ youruser you fear it ate? im appalled.

➯ popeh you can spell appalled? IM appalled.

your phone

two days into the new year, and you were navigating through the bustling airport in los angeles. you'd just returned from a brief trip to england, and while part of you was relieved to be back in your city, surrounded by your friends and the familiar chaos, another part of you couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to stay longer. you had initially planned for an extra week, but life had a way of pulling you back. dressed in a matching grey tracksuit with the hoodie pulled low over your head, you gripped your phone, pressing it to your ear as it rang, waiting for jj to pick up.

"you here yet?" the mans voice was heard from the other side of the phone. you nodded, fumbling around with something in your bag before you answered. "yeah, landed about a half hour ago," you spoke, weaving through the small crowds of people as you tried to venture toward the airport entrance. "im almost there just hang tight, a'ight?" you hummed, muttering a quiet goodbye before hanging up the phone.

you continued to weave through the tight airport crowds, muttering small apologies when you bumped your shoulder or elbow into someone else. as you rounded a corner into a different hall, you harshly bumped into a younger girl who looked to be around sixteen years old. "oh my- honey im so sorry. are you okay?" you quickly muttered out as you held her hand to pull her back up. however, she didnt seem phased in the slightest, her eyes widening once she realized who you were.

"holy shit. y- youre y/n, right?" she stumbled on her words, smiling even brighter as you nodded your head with a sheepish chuckle. "uhm, sorry. c-can i get a picture, please?" she asked you nervously, constantly glancing between you and her phone as she fumbled around with it. "yeah sure," you smiled, watching as she excitedly passed her phone to her mom who was stood a few feet away, mumbling something about taking a picture.

after taking around three to four pictures, you turned to her again. "you sure you okay?" with concern etched on your face, a small smile still managed to make its way onto your face as you watched her nod profusely. "y-yeah. im okay. uhm, thank you." she smiled at your beofre muttering a quick goodbye, ruhshing away to grab her phone back from her moms grip.

you smiled to yourself, gathering your things once more as you felt your phone vibrate from its place on your backpack. "yeah?" you pressed the phone up to your ear, supporting it with your shoulder as you continued your walk towards the entrance. "im here," jj called through the phone, "lucky for you, its too busy i think you can just come out normally." you let out a small sigh, nodding gratefully. "ill be right out," you stated before hanging up.

jjmay

liked by youruser, kiekie and 1.1 million others

jjmay mi vida

jbr im offended. the only pic im in and its blurred.

➯ jjmay blame @/youruser photography skills

➯ popeh im his fav. i look hot in mine

user HELLO?? hardlaunch???

➯ jjmay oops?

youruser jj?? inspirational?? like i didnt send you that pic?

kiekie would just like to say jj was no help in winning the pool game!

user everyone SHUT UP. jj posted!

cleopatty boy knows two words in spanish and ran with it

sarahcam the shirley temples ate down tbh i wonder who made them..

➯ jjmay girl–

➯ youruser this one has a lil sass to it

➯ kiekie lets keep it

➯ jjmay im sorry, IT?

➯ jbr did they stutter?

user i love their friendship

user chat did anyone peep rage..

➯ user real like.. i didnt think they were close with him

➯ user rafe is literallly sarah's brother??

your phone

taglist: @xoxo-ada

psa: anyone else who wants to be added to the taglist, let me know!

a/n: so sorry for the very vey late upload but i slacked off 😔 its ok tho!!

[michaelswilliam]

ok idk if this is me wishing it or it could count as st5 prediction/speculation but since we got that pic of will, mike, holly biking around and holly is like 90% confirmed to be the missing kid in S5EP2, imagine if storyline goes like this:

EP1 is when the "what painting?" conversation happens between mike and el

i don't think this is when they will break up, but mike discovering that all will said to him was not from el, would be the seed of him questioning the state of his relationship with el

S4 Mike still think that the most important thing in his life is being El's boyfriend, but him realizing that El might not love or need him in the way he thought she would would be the catalyst of him starting to accept that this relationship might not be something worth continuing

I don't think Mike has clocked Will's feelings towards him yet by the time he finds out the painting wasnt commissioned by El

Will comes out to his mother, mike, el, lucas and dustin

it will be heartwarming and sweet, el and joyce will immediately tell him that he's so brave, lucas and dustin will be shocked at first but they will quickly move past it and go in for the hug

mike, however, will stand, alone and frozen on his feet. i think this will definitely causes him to question his own feelings. realizing that homosexuality isnt something thats a taboo. that it is real and his best friend is gay. boys can be.

this is when his own internalized homophobia will surmount, when he will question his own sexuality, and it will scare and confuse him and he will remove himself from the premise. he needs to get away

everyone, especially will of course will take it as mike being homophobic and unaccepting

el might confront him, which can lead to another fight. adding further cracks to their relationship

will might try to talk to him, sad scene. will genuinely thinking it might be the end of their friendship

but mike will pivot the conversation, he will bring up the painting.

mike tells will that he is angry that he'd lied to him.

will apologizes, but mike is still irrationally angry

he accuses will of ruining his relationship w/ el. which got will confused bc didnt he help mike to say i love you to el?

(mike of course wont be able to rationalize this. inside he is angry because he realizes that this relationship shouldve died in the first place, and now he's at the point where he thinks he cannot break up with el. not after the confession.)

"it's not my fault that you don't love her the way you said you do!" will cries out, "i'm sorry for lying to you about the painting, alright? but you can't blame me for whatever is going on between you two."

"but do you?"

"what?"

"do you love me the way you said you did?"

"what do you mean-"

mike steps closer to him, "everything you told me about how el felt towards me, all of it was you, wasn't it?"

and because ST loves interruptions, this is when something or someone cut their conversation, leaving it hanging in the air. this is when everything related to will shifts for mike.

mike will start to clue in will's feelings for him and realizing that the idea of being loved romantically by him actually delights him.

mike will cope with his own sexuality and feelings for will vs relationship with el, he might out some distance against will and el as he does this.

will is heartbroken, he thinks their friendship is forever broken because will has ruined mike and el's relationship with his lie and will knows that mike probably knows his feelings for him and hates him even deeper because of it

this is when vecna comes in and fucks with will's head. starts to isolate him with his surroundings.

EP2: apocalyptic hawkins, everyone is assigned with something. someone from the adults assigned mike and will to do an errand while accompanying holly to go to a friend's house or a park or whatever.

will might try to protest, but holly insists for will to come bc she enjoys his company and mike reluctantly agrees

tense moments shared between byler with holly as the buffer

something happens to holly, she's taken. this will be the event that causes mike and will to stick together throughout the season, confronting each other and their feelings for each other.

YEAH SO IDK I WANT THIS TO HAPPEN IN ST5

[candyskiez]

thinkin about the conversation abt guilt between jon and helen again. and how the distortion realized “i wasnt going to stop doing it so i decided not to feel bad”. and how Feeling Guilty About It never changed anything for jon. it didn’t stop him from feeding. didn’t stop him from hurting people or being rude or abrasive. certainly didnt fix the apocalypse he was tricked into causing. his guilt never helped or saved anyone, and his choice to carry it around with him was mostly for self flagellation purposes. but also it was because he never stopped seeing people as people. even when they were his prey they were people. it’s just. !!!

GODDD YOU DONT EVEN KNOW. SEASON FOUR KILLED ME. SEASON FOUR CHANGED ME AS A PERSON. Grggrgr. God you don't even know. Ok ok.

Jon wants so badly to be a good person but he doesn't want to *get* better. He wants to BE better. Which. I never saw portrayed so accurately in fiction before and kind of felt like seeing my internal organs just. Out there. On the screen. But yknow. He wants so so bad to be good and he has no idea how to actually Stop hurting people and giving up these awful behaviors means giving up the things thatve kept him safe his whole life. His desperate attempts to do better in s4 are often met with rejection, and regardless of how understandable the others actions are (and I will argue it was understandable till the heat death of the universe) it ends up leaving him in this limbo where he doesn't feel like changing is Working. And it doesn't really help that he only tends to actually understand his feelings and other people's perspectives until they've blown up and he can't ignore them anymore. He so badly wants to be a good person but he's kind of just. He's not given up on per say but he's so angry and frustrated about it because nothing he does seems to be good enough or actually seem to improve in any meaningful way.

Ok ok on the note of the actual conversation you brought up. Sorry i got very sidetracked. Jon and guilt is so so interesting because it's embedded so deep in his personality. So much of who he is was fundamentally shaped by guilt and shame. And it doesn't actually fix anything. Most of his actions fueled by guilt or wanting to Repent don't actually do anything good. It partly stopped his whole murder crusade but tbh. There was also other things going on, less just Jon Guilt and more so Jon actually reflecting. It's almost like actually reevaluating your shit is more effective than self punishing. Guilt is so deeply rooted in every aspect of his actions throughout the series and it doesn't make him kinder most of the time. If anything it makes him more bitter and impulsive. But he can't afford to let go of his guilt less he starts just letting himself hurt everyone near him, but it was never actually the guilt that stopped him. He only really started stopping himself from doing shit out of compassion and care for the few people he had left. Guilt never stopped him, but he never let go because he Needed it to stop him from doing worse. But it wasn't the shame that had stopped him, he'd been ashamed his whole life and it actively made him worse. What did stop him in the end was the one person he had left being so furious at him but staying with him anyway, because he loved him.

Also I have Big Feelings about Jon and Helen's relationship and how Jon giving up on Helen was when he gave up on himself but that is a topic for another day. Jonathan Sims the man that you are. Boy why are you so guilt.

[reineydraws]

✨️ BROTHERS! ✨️

(shouto will live out his idle childhood daydreams, even if he has to reverse their roles himself haha)

[libraryofgage]

Been having Secretly Smart Steve thoughts except it's less that his intellect is a secret and more that nobody ever noticed lmao

The initial thought for this is based on my mom's stories about acting like a ditzy airhead in high school but then graduating with honors

Within five minutes of walking into high school Steve definitely clocked that being cool was more important than being smart right? So he didn't really let on that he was good at class stuff and just let people think he was a simple jock

And Steve graduating isn't a huge thing cuz it happens during UD stuff which means they all miss graduation ceremony and just get their degrees later, so it's not like anyone saw the honors tassels that steve was given to wear with his grad gown

And the first real hint is Lucas trying to make a basket and getting frustrated. And Steve is like "here I'll show you" and proceeds to make every throw he makes from anywhere on the court and when Lucas asks how the fuck he does that Steve shrugs and is like "well, i mean, its all angles man"

Later Mike and Will are working on an egg drop project (you know the ones) and getting worked up cuz the eggs keep cracking. Steve has been watching TV or something the whole time and outta nowhere is like "yall are missing shock absorption and proper wind resistance, duh"

Nancy is trying to decode some number based cipher for fun but it's becoming rapidly Not Fun and Steve looks over her shoulder for like two seconds and goes "group the numbers into twos, subtract 18 from each, and then it's the alphabet letter based on the number" and then just walks off

Dustin is taking an engineering class and is having trouble building a bridge cuz it keeps collapsing when he sends a hot wheels car over it. Steve tells him he needs more load-bearing beams and to distribute the weight evenly and Dustin is surprised when it works

And, of course, Eddie sees all of this so one day when Max or Erica ask for help with some geometry homework he takes the worksheet they give him and immediately passes it along to Steve, waves off their disbelief, and sits all smug while Steve explains concepts they'd been missing entirely

[time-woods]

little part 2 to the previous one

[starlightshore]

Ok here's attempt two!!!! Here's my made-for-fun redesign of Loop!

They've got a blackhole in their head, the chains are connected to the universe and fade off (though for more literal, are attached to the Favor Tree)

not fully sure about the silhouette or the outfit in general but!!! its a step in the right direction

@cubicsimulation said: okay hear me out: night sky starry patterned poncho with an open front

Tried it, i don't know how clothes work well enough to do it justice :,)

but!!! i do like the shape a bit better! the problem might be trying to reuse the outfit from above w/out considering the new shape language/what was removed