#i got way too attached to people at work and i feel weird about having quit so suddenly for ostensibly a dumb reason

[dailypokemoncrochet]

I forgot I have to remake an Onix because I somewhat impulse gave it to someone at work

[butterfly-ribbon]

still in disbelief about how mizu5 genuinely captures the subtleties of transmisogyny so accurately like nothing else i've seen before especially with the nuances with which mizuki's story is told … all it takes is a single sentence, a few words … i love that the classmates saying that shit don't even … realize how cruel they are, bc that's how it /is/ and bc "oh no, we said something weird to a Normal Girl, that makes us look bad" - transmisogyny is just a punchline to a joke for them, that's how detached they are from their own cruelty and it's really not any different from the 'average' misogyny and how that tends to be a joke amongst boys. what ena ended up being exposed to is really just the classmates' 'boy's locker room talk' leaking out, so to speak? ena's probably heard jokes from people about how unfeminine her behavior is in the past and she quickly spits out "that's not funny" bc ena and mizuki are both "pretty girls" who like fashion and dolling themselves up, and hearing them talk about how mizuki's cute in this way … i'm sure it reminds her of her own experiences with being an 'influencer' - people like her when she shuts up and makes herself cute and appealing and ena must've absolutely received her fair share of comments and messages from weirdos for posting selfies of herself online, but i think what drives this home to me as such a fantastic narrative is the way that they call mizuki "attractive as long as she's not making any trouble and being a pain" bc it really speaks to how trans girls are objectified and only deemed 'acceptable' as long as they make themselves into limpless dolls who are acceptable targets for any form of abuse and misogyny instead of trying to claim their own subjectivity as women, so there's so much crossover in how mizuki's experiences work alongside ena's? but also mizuki faces so much more constant and direct criticism, all her actions and choices so closely under scrutiny.

mizuki loves and appreciates the attention of girls and when she first met ena she saw herself in the art that ena made - ena draws a girl in pain and mizuki goes "she's me". in the scene where mizuki gets outed, ena is speechless not bc she thinks mizuki is "gross" or bc she's mad mizuki "tricked" her? she's just horrified that she just got degendered /by association/ and then had to listen to these boys speak about the girl she's in love with in this /aggressively/ violent way, especially since mizuki has a meltdown, knowing, apologizing for hurting, even as ena would absolutely say "no, i'm sorry, im sorry, please don't hate vourself" bc mizuki feels like she's the one at fault for feeling like ena would assume the worst of her, but mizuki also feels like she doesn't have the right to be angry at people … this is the first time we get to see mizuki's rage and it's so palpable … i love so much that she hates the idea of niigo's kindness being born out of her 'abnormality' as a trans girl … she hates everything about this. she hates the idea of coming out, she hates the idea of having a question attached to her girlhood..

mizuki logically knows that niigo are going to accept her bc they've also gone through so much turmoil themselves and understand what it's like to be on the fringes of society, but she still can't shake off all those intrusive thoughts about how they might only accept her out of pity or consideration bc they feel too bad for her rather than a genuine understanding and the idea that things might change between them bc of that is too terrifying to embrace… such patronizing 'kindness' burns too much for mizuki to accept, so she'd rather run away and shut herself out completely… for mizuki it's like being stuck on a bridge where the only two ways out are ones where nothing changes and this hurts in its own way bc she can't tell how much of it would be genuine and how much would be an act and the other way is them /trying too hard/ to be considerate and this can easily become alienating bc mizuki truly just wants to be "one of the girls" in the most natural sense? she doesn't want to be made to feel like she's being accommodated, but there's also all the guilt that she's been internalizing for being "deceptive" and not saying the truth sooner that further complicates things and makes her feel like she's undeserving of any kindness that she may be offered… even though she genuinely was going to tell ena the truth herself, it doesn't matter anymore bc someone else told her before she even got the chance to do so herself and that's something she actually wished would happen in the past, so is there anyone to blame but herself? mizuki's entire thing is that until now she's been "writing" a fictionalized cis girl version of herself when she's with niigo and obscuring her own transness bc she doesn't want to be treated as an Other or have an asterisk attached to her girlhood bc she just wants to be treated as one of them instead of having to explain herself or prove anything but she has her facade violently stripped away from her in the most traumatic way imaginable and now she's entrapped within dysphoria induced suicidal ideation...

[puripurin]

— "What the fuck." You started at the merman who wriggled around for space. His eyes looked at you in fear as he saw you, before a blush had spread across his face.

Up until 30 seconds ago, you had lived a normal life, well, except for the obscene amount of work you were stressed out with. So you hopped on the boat your parents had gifted you some years ago and sailed into the sea. The feel of the ocean breeze hitting your face was a familiar sensation to you.

This was because your parents were fishermen and loved to eat seafood, and naturally, you had gravitated towards seafood, but with prices these days and your never-ending workload, it didn't allow you to do anything without setting you back on your tight deadlines. Until today.

You had gotten a whole week of paid vacation because a coworker was threatening to bring them to court for a long list of harassment. So they gave the people who worked the most a one week paid vacation. Though, to her, it wasn't enough, so you're getting a paid vacation week while they are still going to get sued. Whatever, its their fault either way.

Anyways, how did you reel in a merman that shouldn't even exist? Frankly, you don't know either. You had accidentally started to daydream, which turned into you not realizing something was caught, so instinctively, you were able to reel in a merman.

"H-huuuumann?" His deep moss green eyes stared at up at you with interest whilst you nearly got blinded by the shimmering gleem of his scales that were scattered across his cheeks. He stopped his advancements towards you until it was difficult to hold up his neck to see you.

"Erm... sorry for catching you, I was daydreaming. I'll unhook the fish hook attached to you..." You apologized and went down to unhook him, only for him to pull down your pants and underwear down, making you fall on the bench below you and stuffing his face in your genitals.

"Hey! W-what are you doing?" You pushed his face away, to which he pouted to. He sat there for a while as you tried to push him off the boat, to no avail.

"I... Accceppt thhis marrriaage!" He excitedly said as he tugged on your pants to gently pull it off again, but you held on tightly to your pants.

"What marriage? I didn't propose to you?" You evaded from his pulling hands in confusion.

"Whennn youuu reeeeledd mmeee inn dummmyy!" He slurred his words once more. "Shtop! I waant too tasstte you firrst beeforrre you tassteeee mee!" He huffed before his nails turned into sharp claws that shreaded your pants, then pulled down your underwear again and happily stuffing his face and licking your crotch with his tongue that felt rough.

Once more, you tried to move away but only ended up moaning at the feeling. Your face was slightly hot as you looked away but was swiftly pulled back in for a kiss, tasting your own fluids.

"Ah... finally... now it's your turn, cutie pie. We have to go to my hometown to get married <3"

"WHAT!?!? Firstly, no! Secondly, i will drown!"

"... Who said you can say no? When you reeled me, it was akin to a marriage proposal. Also, that's why you suck my dick and kiss me <333"

"WHAT--"

Was supposed to be posted yesterday, but when i saved a portion of it, i didn't see that i was save so i went back in to edit it to see what's rong before i saved it and for a slpilt second i saw the rest of it before it saved, so i lost majority of my work.

So now it looks like tjis. Womp womp. I think tjis is an afab reader? But i tried to make it gn as possible but i wannted a weird ass mermaid culture where to speak another's language, you gotta eat them out/suck them off before kissing person to speak. At first i wanted him to just kiss in order to get the language js like starfire but i was like,, so what do i do with him tryna eat you out??,, then boom yeahh.

Also, yo quero voy en me casaaaaaa *cries pathetically* No me gusta Español :((((((( not proofread. L

Edit: i forgot about tags. Mb.

[bet-on-me-13]

Misunderstandings really really suck

Edit: Part 2 is Up

So heres the deal, it's a normal Vivisection AU where Danny had to run away to Gotham after his parents try to kill him, and let's say that he takes Ellie with him too.

They stay there for a few years and after a while they manage to establish a little life for themselves. Danny is running a small Shop that makes them enough money to live comfortably in the apartment right above his Shop, meanwhile Ellie is going to Gotham Metro Academy on a scholarship because she is really smart and they managed to fake some school records for her when they were making themselves new Identities.

(Side Note: Danny is now 26, while Ellie hasn't started aging yet and still looks 12, but she will begin to soon since she just hit her 12th birthday)

Danny also runs a small Ghost Shop out of his store, just selling small bits of Distilled Ectoplasm or Ecto-Infused Treats to the local Ghosts in return for small favors or help around the shop.

But here's the thing. Ellie is still an unstable Clone, even if they did managed to find a reliable treatment in the form of Ecto-Dejecto. But Danny's parents were the only ones who knew how to make that stuff, and the Ecto-Dejecto they stole all those years ago is beginning to run out.

Danny begins to work tirelessly trying to replicate it, diving full on into his Mad Scientist side to try and find a way to make more ED for Ellie. He manages to make some prototypes, but he is nowhere near confident that they are good enough.

He decides to call in some favors from the local Ghosts. He calls the ones he is confident will survive this and asks them to try out his Ecto Dejecto to see if it will work for Ellie, but he does warn them that there will probably be unexpected side effects that they will probably not like.

The Ghosts agree to do it, because in the years that the Fenton's have lived there they have grown extremely attached to Ellie. She is like a little sister or daughter for many of them, they would throw away their afterlives if it meant helping her.

For most of the samples, the ED doesn't work at all. Some of them work for a single moment before cutting out, others don't do anything, and some have crazy effects that affect them for a little while before disappearing abruptly. One guy turned into a Dog, not the worst outcome but not the intended one. Another began to glow brightly and couldn't turn it off, that one lasted for an hour.

They keep testing them, out in the nearby Alley since they don't want to destroy the house or Danny's makeshift Lab, for a few weeks.

They problem comes when they are spotted one night by Red Hood.

...

Jason was crossing the Rooftops while on Patrol. He was going a little farther than his normal patrol range, since he had the time and he wanted to make sure there was no trouble in the nearby areas either.

As he was about to hop from one rooftop to another, he got a weird feeling. It was strange, he didn't feel anything on his skin, he didn't smell anything, he didn't even hear anything, but he somehow knew that there was something strange happening in the nearby Alley. It was like he could sense it.

Peeking over the edge of the rooftop, he saw a group of about 10 people. It was a bunch of strange looking people with green-ish skin, and one normal looking person. The normal looking one was wearing a lab coat, and seemed to be about 25 yrs old. Jason felt like there was something off about that guy, but he couldn't place exactly what. He was holding a box of something in his hand, and talking to the group.

"Ok guys, I'm really confident this time!" He said, "I think one of these may be the one!"

The man placed the box on a nearby Dumpster and opened it up, taking out a strange glowing green Vial. He handed it to one of the Greenish people and watched as they injected themselves with it.

Jason watched as they began to glow slightly before their arms suddenly grew to be longer than they were tall. The Man in the Lab Coat sighed in discontent, before saying "Ok, not that one. But we still have a few to try out!"

Jason watched as one by one the people below injected themselves with the green Liquid, each of them having some strange phenomenon happen to them before moving on to the next. The strange thing was that none of them seemed to be concerned with the changes, just commenting on it felt before moving on.

Finally, they got to the last person in line. As they injected themselves, Jason felt a sense of Anticipation well up in his gut. He didn't know why, but he felt like this was going to he important.

He was proven right as the Man who had injected himself began to glow brightly. Jason was overwhelmed with the sense of Pure Power coming from him. It was intense, he didn't know how, but he could actually feel the man begin to grow stronger and stronger. The feeling was nearly suffocating, but he managed to regain his senses long enough to hear Lab Coat laugh maniacally. He looked over to see that the entire group was enthusiastically high-fiving and fist-bumping eachother, all cheering at the success.

"Hahaha! Yes! Finally!" Labcoat Cheered, "It's done! Once I make some more, we'll be able to-"

The overwhelming power suddenly cut out. It was so abrupt that even the people below didn't speak for some time. They all just stood on slight shock before Labcoat spoke up, "Ok...ok this is fine. All I need to do is take that formula and find a way to make the effect Permanent. After that we're all set." He said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "I think we'll be good to go within a Week!"

The group of people muttered in agreement, and Labcoat thanked them all for a bit before they all began to walk away. It seemed like the meeting was over.

Jason took a moment to collect himself, before deciding to follow some of the group so he could question them. Unfortunately, everybody he followed disappeared into thin air after a short time.

It occurred to him that he hadn't tried to intervene at all. Usually he would have jumped down and beaten them all black and blue for testing drugs right in front of him, but he didn't this time. Why? He also realized that he should have followed the Lab Coat guy first, not waited until it was his last option. Why did he not go after that guy instantly? Why did he hesitate? Was it something to do with that Ominous Feeling that led him to the meeting in the first place? There was just something about the guy that made Jason feel inexplicably sacred of him.

Either way, he needed to tell the others.

Because from what he had seen, a Mad Scientist had been working with a group of Metahumans to create a Super Soldier Drug right there in Gotham, and they needed to stop them.

[inlovewithl3vi]

Could you write MC with a daddy kink ? With lucifer (and diavolo If you feel like it but separated)

Love you

Ngl to you I got so excited about this when I saw it I shut down and forgot to write.

I tried something a little different with the formatting this time, not sure if I like it though. I’m also not too happy with how Lucifer’s turned out but I honestly don’t write about him often, I hope you still like it tho 😭 honestly this whole little fix kinda sucks… I still hope you like it (though I might write this prompt again in the future)

I’m also not the best at writing NSFW. It’s probably because I’m an autistic virgin, but eh whatever. I also cut if off kinda at that part since I’m writing for a gender neutral Mc, and when writing NSFW I find it easier when you know what genitals both people have (idk if that’s just a me thing… I fear it might be)

P.s I did not proofread this, I’m sorry in advance

(Bonus Note: I also love you!) (is that weird? Idk I love people who send asks)

-Lucifer-

✧ With him you never really brought it up before.

✧ I mean you’ve thought about it and the fact that you wanted to call him daddy, but you just didn’t have the time. And whenever you did have time it wasn’t the right moment.

✧ Until your spread out on his bed with him over you keeping you in place. He had been teasing you for what felt like hours. you can feel tears welling in your eyes, your body feels like it’s on fire, your whining and helplessly trying to move beneath him, and yet he still won’t touch where you want him to.

“Beg” he has a smug look on his face as he stares down at you. “Please…” it’s almost hard to speak, your body desperate for any sort of simulation. “You can do better than that” he moves his hand and places it on your cheek, gently caressing your face. “Please please please! I need it Lucifer-“your cut off by your own sob. He slowly starts to move, but you want- no, you need more. “Please- daddy I need more. I’ll be good for you daddy I swear!” He pauses for a brief second. He’s never had anyone call him that. But he immediately knows he likes hearing the way you sound when calling out to him in such a way. His lips attach to your neck, leaving dark bruises that your sure others will see tomorrow. His hands are roaming around your body before he reaches down and grabs his cock, pumping it a few times before finally sliding inside of you, making you loudly moan out from pleasure.

✧ The next morning he teases you slightly about the name.

✧ Though he isn’t fooling you, he loves every minute of it.

✧ Since then, whenever you two are being any kind of intimate he wants you to call him daddy.

Bonus: if you come up behind him while he’s working in his office and wrap your arms around him before whispering “daddy” in his ear he will immediately abandon his work for you.

-Diavolo-

✧ You actually ended up taking about it with him earlier in the relationship. Probably after you’ve had sex together for the first two or three times.

✧ Mostly because he asked first.

“Oh MC, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Since our relationship has gotten more serious, do you have any preferences for when we sleep together?”

✧ He’s always been a little blunt when asking about things, but that caught you off guard.

“Uhm… no nothing that I can think of right now”

✧ He could totally see right through you, I mean he literally has powers to see if you’re lying.

“That’s a lie, you can tell me anything you know.”

✧ He grew a little more concerned when you lied. He wanted you to know that he really does love you, and that you could tell him whatever it is.

✧ After a slight bit of convincing (he just made a sad face and you gave in) you end up telling him.

“Uhm… I kinda wanna call you daddy” your face immediately flushed after admitting it as you turned away from him. He chuckled slightly and placed his hand on your cheek to make you look at him. “That’s it huh” his normal warm smile overtook his features as he looked down at your flushed face. “You just wanted daddy to take care of you”

He ended up picking you up and carrying you to his room before sitting on his bed and placing you in his lap. He started undressing you, eventually getting everything off leaving you naked in his lap. “Daddy please” you mumbled as you started to grind against his thigh. “Hmm? Do you want daddy to take care of you?” You nodded yes as you felt his large hands wrap around your hips. “Then just relax and be good for me ok?”

✧ From that point of it was more of a normal thing for you to call him daddy in bed.

✧ He quite enjoys it too. He loves to show just how much he loves you and loves to take care of you, and the name just makes him feel good.

✧(Bonus: on rare occasions he’ll use it to rile you up while at a party or even whenever he knows you can’t immediately go with him. He’ll go up to you and whisper how your “being so good for daddy”

[jaylalolz]

❛ 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐙 ❜

₊˚ʚ 🎀 ₊˚✧ﾟ.

The camera flicked on, capturing the inside of a car. Madison sat in the passenger seat, already grinning, her excitement palpable. She adjusted the camera’s angle before turning to the boy next to her—Nicholas Chavez, who sat behind the wheel with a wry smile. Their wrists were cuffed together by a shiny pair of handcuffs.

“Hey guys!” Madison’s voice was bright, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Today, we’re doing something insane. I’ve got Nicholas with me—”

“Hey, what’s up everyone?” Nick waves at the camera with his free hand, while his other wrist remains firmly attached to Madison’s by a pair of shiny, metal handcuffs. “You might be wondering why we’re handcuffed together. Well, you’re about to find out.”

Madison holds up her handcuffed wrist. “So, today, we are doing the 24-hour Handcuff Challenge! Basically, Nick and I will be stuck together for a full day—”

“Twenty-four hours of this madness,” Nick interrupts, laughing. “I don’t know how I got talked into this.”

“You agreed to this,” Madison teases, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Anyway, the rules are simple: we can’t take these cuffs off no matter what happens. And we’re filming everything! This is going to be fun. Or… total chaos. We’ll see.”

Nicholas laughed, shooting a glance at her. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. Twenty-four hours? This is going to be a mess.”

“A fun mess,” she corrected, her smile infectious. “So, first things first—Nick is driving us to Target. But there’s a catch… he only has one hand to do it.”

Nicholas raised his eyebrows at the camera, then down at their cuffs. “Yeah, no pressure, right? I have to drive with one hand while we’re chained together. I’m pretty sure this is a terrible idea.”

Madison laughed, holding up their handcuffed wrists. “Don’t worry, I’ll just sit here and look cute while you do all the work.”

“Great,” Nicholas muttered with a smirk, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary before he turned back to the road. He shifted gears with his left hand, his right arm awkwardly constrained by their cuffs.

As they pulled onto the street, Madison kept the camera pointed at them, narrating as they drove. “Okay, guys, we’re on our way to Target. Let’s see if Nick can manage to not crash with just one hand.”

The car swerved slightly as Nicholas adjusted his grip, making Madison gasp dramatically. “Nick! Watch out!”

He let out a nervous laugh, though he tried to keep his focus. “You’re not exactly making this easy! You try driving with your right hand handcuffed to someone.”

Madison laughed too, unable to help herself. “This is so ridiculous. Guys, if we don’t make it to Target, you know why.”

The two exchanged a glance, both smiling. Nicholas felt something stir in his chest—a brief, almost involuntary pull. He quickly looked back at the road, shaking off the strange feeling.

They made it to Target without incident, though Nicholas was more relieved than he let on. As they got out of the car, Madison turned the camera back to her face.

“Alright, we’re here at Target,” she announced. “And now, it’s time to mess with some people. We’re going to see how people react to us being handcuffed and… maybe prank them a little.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “A little?”

Madison winked at him, making him feel that weird tug again. “Or a lot.”

They walked into the store, still handcuffed together, the camera rolling as they made their way through the aisles. Madison pulled him toward the Halloween section first, where she spotted a rack of masks. She grabbed a creepy clown mask with oversized teeth and turned to the camera with a devilish grin.

“Nick, I think it’s time to scare some people.”

Nicholas chuckled. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“You love it,” she teased, before slipping the mask on. Nicholas couldn’t argue with that—there was something about the way she was so effortlessly fun that he couldn’t get enough of.

Madison crept up behind an unsuspecting shopper, pulling Nicholas along with her. She jumped out from behind a display, letting out a loud growl. The woman yelped and practically jumped out of her skin, clutching her chest as she turned to see Madison still wearing the terrifying mask. The woman’s shock quickly turned to confusion when she noticed the handcuffs linking Madison and Nicholas.

Madison yanked off the mask, laughing hysterically. “Sorry, it’s just a prank!”

Nicholas was trying to hold back his laughter but failing. “This is too good.”

They continued their pranks—sneaking up on people in different aisles, pretending to struggle with their cuffs while grabbing items, and asking employees for ridiculous things like “handcuff-friendly clothes.” They even approached a group of teenagers, dramatically telling them they’d been “stuck like this for days” and asking for advice on how to break free.

But eventually, their fun came to an abrupt end.

They were in the toy aisle when a Target employee, looking less than amused, approached them. His expression was stern, arms crossed over his chest.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but we’ve received multiple complaints. You’re disturbing our customers. We’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

Madison and Nicholas shared a guilty look. Madison raised her eyebrows at the camera, playing up the moment. “Well, guys, looks like we’ve officially been kicked out of Target. Pranks gone wrong.”

Nicholas chuckled. “Guess we took it too far.”

The employee stood by, waiting impatiently for them to leave. As they made their way out of the store, Madison turned the camera to Nicholas.

“So, how do you feel about getting kicked out of Target?” she asked.

He shrugged, smiling at her. “Honestly? Totally worth it.”

Madison laughed, that infectious laugh that made Nicholas glance at her again. This time, he couldn’t help but notice how the sound of her laughter seemed to linger in the air, making him feel something he didn’t quite understand.

As they stepped outside, Madison turned off the camera for a moment, and they walked in silence toward the car. Nicholas felt the metal of the handcuff pressing against his wrist, a constant reminder of their closeness. And as he glanced at her one last time before opening the car door, he couldn’t shake the feeling that being handcuffed to Madison for the next 24 hours might be more complicated than he had anticipated.

But maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

INSTAGRAM

madison & nicholas posted a ig story !

[pomegranatesandtangerines]

based off this post

how I think (some of) the Dungeon Meshi characters would interact with an isekai-ed reader who's hyperfixation is dungeon meshi

includes: Laios, Falin, Kabru, and Toshiro (Shuro)

Laios

im imaging reader meeting him when he was a child

a little after Falin was born and after he was given the dungeon gourmet guide

reader actively seeking him out but kinda starts freaking out when they actually see him

reader decides to go with the approach being interested in his book

Laios was suspicious at first ( the book is one of the main reasons he got bullied )

but after some time and patience he got comfortable with you

I feel that Laios would be very attached to reader

like someone besides his sister who gets him, listens to him, communicates with him, etc.

listen as someone who is very hyperfixated on dungeon meshi at the moment I would be so invested in learning about monsters

and Laios is more then happy to talk about it for hours

reader making a point to support his dream of exploring the dungeons bc his parents are dicks

he wouldn't really be weirded out by reader seems to know so much about him, maybe early on but over time I feel he would just be glad to have someone like that by his side

low-key though,,, I think there would be a small small part of him that is kinda jealous over how reader seems to just,, get some people

Falin

I see reader being her number one hype-person as a child

reader would also beg her to teach them some magic

I think that Falin and reader would meet through Laios

Falin while she is outcasted from her home town, is still a litter more sociable then her brother

but what had her truly open up was not only the readers support of her magical talent but also the readers interest in learning about how biology works in this world

she also info dumps a ton

you know how she kept bringing Marcille things cause she wanted to eat them with her

she would 100% do that with reader,,, and the amount would increase when Laios leaves

Kabru

he would be veryyy fascinated by the reader

his hyperfixation is people. studying them, their anatomy, psychology, how they tick

he would absolutely notice how reader picks up on things, knows things about some people without even having met them, predict events

to put it simply he wants to study reader under a microscope but is also extremely suspicious of them

he's also gonna pull out all the stops to try charm his way into understanding reader

his distrust sky rockets the first time they lock eyes, he can see it in his eyes, this look of understanding the deepest parts of him

he does not like it

it takes a long ass time for him trust them and genuinely open up again

reader making a point to ask things that will make him want to info dump

"hey did you notice how x was acting today" or "did you hear that x and y got together? do you think they'll make it?"

gossip buddies

Toshiro

ALRIGHT LET ME START BY SAYING THIS, HE IS WAYYYY TOO MISCHARACTERIZED IN THIS FANDOM

and reader would be all too aware of this as well

he is heavily implied to have a hyperfixation on bugs, and had to at a young age become a master at masking and picking up on social norms

but anyways-

he would think reader is weird, mostly bc they would remind him of laios

slowly but surely I feel he would feel more comfortable

another case of the way to his heart is through the info dump

maybe walking back from a little adventure and noticing a beetle and showing him

now hes not gonna be as outwardly as excited as Laios

but it is slightly noticeable that he is interested and excited

reader offers to give it to him and asks him some questions

less info dumping and more info sprinkling but still he does like to talk about it

I think he would appreciate how they seem to pick up on his smaller details, maybe not a perfectly but still

[nanpecan]

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊ pt 3

{nanami x f!reader}

pt 1.  pt 2. pt 4. pt 5.

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You’re a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and you've now had two extremely intimate encounters with grade 1 sorcerer Nanami Kento. You're doing your best to go back to work like nothing happened. You're attending meetings, running a few errands, and having a very very close call with a curse and an ancient relic.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, slight angst, gore kinda (you're fighting a curse and it gets intense fast)

˚₊✩‧₊word count: 6.8k (do i even have to apologize at this point)

˚₊✩‧₊author’s note: this chapter is a little more centered around Y/N as a character. Nanami IS in it but i feel like he isn't the focus so i apologize. but ! i've attached pt. 4 as well because that does have nanami and a fun little hook up hehe. I won't be offended if a lot of y'all skip this to get to the next part. I know i would

˚₊✩‧₊this is the mitski song i had in mind for this chapter idk

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You shut the car door and put your seat belt on wordlessly. “You okay? I’ve never seen you so quiet after drinking.” Akari said, breaking you out of your daze. 

You looked at her and considered telling her everything. “Akari…” she looked at you with a questioning look. She smiled. 

“You know, Nanami was asking questions about you while you were up singing with Ijichi.” 

“What?” 

“It was little things. Like he kept asking for clarity on things whenever we brought you up. I don’t know if you even noticed.” 

“What kind of things?” 

“Well he was asking how long you’ve been here. He seemed to know that you’d joined the school when you were 16, during Ijichi’s third year. But he wanted to know how you did.” 

“What did you tell him?” you asked. 

“Eh, I said something about how your classmates were assholes. But that doesn’t matter. He also asked about your relationship status.” She glanced at you with a cheeky smile. You gave her a blank stare. “Well, not directly, but Shoko asked about my dating life and I told them how we were both hopeless, and I may have mentioned that date you went on where the American called you exotic and tried to grab your ass.” She laughed as she remembered. “He smiled when I mentioned you kicked his ass.” 

You smiled and she seemed happy that you were more relaxed. “I could just tell he was interested in you, and you know I’m good at reading people.” 

“You’re too flattering.” You said. “I don’t think he’s interested in me like that.” 

“You’d be surprised, maybe he feels connected with you after he saw your IBS crisis.” She laughed. “Too soon? I’m sorry.” 

You smiled and shook your head. You felt a burning in your chest. “You don’t think he was talking so much because he was into you? He didn’t talk to me at all.” 

Akari scoffed. “If he was into me I’d turn him down immediately.” She frowned. “If I didn’t know his age I would have thought he was in his late thirties, and I’m not into dudes that much older. You know I like them hot and stupid.” 

“That hasn’t worked out so well for you in the past, maybe it’s time to change it up.” 

Akari furrowed her brows. “Why are you pushing him on me, fight for your man, girl.” 

You slumped back into your seat. “I’m telling you he doesn’t like me like that.” 

She rolled her eyes. “And why are you so sure?” 

“Because he told me so.” You muttered. 

“What?” She suddenly got serious. 

“...Can you keep a secret?” 

“What happened? Y/N??” She looked over at you. “Hang on, we're almost at my place. I need to be all ears.” 

“You can’t tell anyone, and you can’t judge me.” 

“Wait! Don’t tell me anymore!” 

Akari quickly parked the car and ran out. She practically pushed you all the way into her apartment and onto her couch. She quickly poured you another drink before pouring one for herself. 

“Okay,” she handed you the cup. “I had a feeling something happened, you’ve been acting so weird.” 

“You wanna take a guess?” You said before taking a drink. 

She hesitated. “My gut was telling me that something happened with the curse he exorcised yesterday. And I thought that maybe it had gotten to you and you were overly flirty and confessed or something.” 

“We had sex.” 

She choked on her drink. “What!” 

You buried your head in your hands and groaned. “The curse injured him and infected him with lust. I was just standing outside the barrier. I was checking my phone when he came stumbling out into the car, and well…things escalated and…yeah.” 

Akari looked at you in shock. She put her drink down. “He didn’t report an injury. Was he in his right mind?” 

You understood what she was implying. “He wasn’t violent. The opposite actually. I was surprised too, he wouldn’t let me tend to his wound.” You took another drink. “It was great.” 

She still looked concerned. “But he told you he wasn’t into you.” 

You frowned. “We didn’t really talk much afterwards. I think he was more embarrassed or maybe he regretted it… Anyway I ran into him at the bakery that I like and we talked for a bit there.” You sighed as you remembered. “I confessed that I liked him and he said he wasn’t interested in a relationship with me, so I said we should forget everything that happened.” 

“I’m sorry.” Akari said. “What an asshole, I bet he said it just like that too. He’s so blunt. You didn’t deserve that.” She looked at you. “I’m sorry he showed up tonight. I can’t imagine how awkward that must have been for you. But I’m serious. He was asking little things about you. So maybe there’s hope?” She turned her head and scowled, “If it was me I wouldn’t want to see the bastard.” 

You took a deep breath, you didn’t want to tell her about the bathroom. Not that it was wrong, you just wanted time to process everything. You frowned. You had just ruined his chances with her, you were painting him out to be a villain. “He was very sweet though. I understand where he’s coming from. I mean, I don’t think he really had any control over his mood and I should have turned him down. I have regrets too. I think it’ll be easier to just forget. If he does want something he should be the one to approach me.” You laid back on the couch. “The shittier thing to do would have been not to acknowledge it at all. He’s a good guy, it’s just like you said. He’s blunt.” You smiled at Akari. “This is our secret, okay?” 

Akari nodded looking at you sympathetically. “Of course.” She came closer to you and hugged you. “Other than the mess, I’m glad he was nice to you. You pulled your long-time crush, that’s powerful girl.” 

You smiled and hugged her back silently. 

You both went to bed shortly after and you were left alone with your thoughts. 

The bathroom. He had said he didn’t want to talk, fucked you, and even wanted to take you home. This sort of contradicted your theory of him liking Akari, right? No, he just thinks you’re easy. You frowned. You should have let him speak before you cut him off…twice. You’d just been afraid that what he’d say would hurt your feelings. 

You tossed and turned thinking about him, remembering his touch, his lips. Despite it all he had been so gentle, so desperate to have you again. It hurt your feelings thinking about it. He had done all that but he didn’t really want you. You sighed, if he asked to have you again, would you do it?, you wondered. Yes, you decided, feeling hopeless. You felt very strongly about him and despite him not reciprocating your feelings, yours hadn’t diminished. You might have liked him more, or at least the idea of him more. You slowly dozed off. 

You were pretty quiet the next morning and Akari let you just exist. She drove you to work, talking about things here and there but not bringing him up. You were grateful for her. “You know I do love you.” 

Akari smiled as she turned off the ignition to the car. “I’ve always got your back.” 

You both rushed into the meeting room afraid of being late but when you got there, there were only two other managers including Ijichi, and Principle Yaga sitting silently with a frown on his face. 

You checked your watch. There were two minutes until the meeting was supposed to start. No other sorcerers were here. You sat down next to Akari and Ijichi. You looked at the empty chair beside you and for a moment thought about switching sides with Akari but you decided it was too much. You were thinking too much about it. He was not going to sit next to you, that would have been bold and stupid. 

Suddenly the door opened and Shoko walked in giving you and Akari a smile. Two more sorcerers came in with a minute to spare. You watched the clock strike 7 and the door opened again. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was, his aura gave him away. You heard him head in your direction and you whipped your head in surprise as you heard the chair next to you slide out and Nanami sit down. 

You clenched your jaw and felt Akari poke you from the other side. You looked at her.

 You okay? She asked with her eyes. You nodded and rolled your eyes with a smile. She smiled back. You didn’t turn to look at him. 

This wasn’t the first time he had sat next to you in a meeting. The first time you had been way more nervous. It was about a year and a half ago; after he had just rejoined Jujutsu society. You had already started crushing on him and he had asked you for a pen to jot down some small detail about a schedule change. The rest was history.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the doors burst open and you heard a familiar chuckle. “Okay, okay, we can start now. I’m here!” Gojo. He walked in cockily and sat down in the front row of seats. Yaga gave him a scrutinizing look before standing up, ready to start. 

“You’re just the man I wanted to see, I have a mission for you.” Yaga grumbled. Gojo yawned in response. “Good morning everyone, I’ll make this short.” He shuffled some papers. “An update on the Okkotsu case, the boy’s violence has escalated resulting in the death of three high school students on Thursday evening. Yesterday Kisagari and Harutomi were sent to investigate and were instructed to bring the boy back.” He clenched his jaw. “They did not check in last night and upon further investigation Harutomi was found dead this morning a little outside the school grounds.” 

The room went silent. You frowned, this was more serious than anticipated. Both of the sorcerers were grade two, it came as a shock that one of them was dead.

“Satoru, can I rely on you to pick up where they left off?” 

Gojo stretched his arms and leaned back on his chair. “Of course,” he responded. 

Yaga went over some other brief reminders before dismissing the meeting. You’d volunteered to deliver some items the school was exchanging with the Kanagawa Prefecture Cultural Museum. You stayed in your chair a little longer reading over the file Akari handed you. Nanami slowly got up from his chair and you could sense him staring at you. He probably wanted to talk. You owed him that much. You turned to look at him but before you could say anything Ijichi appeared next to him. 

“I’m ready to head out whenever you are.” He said to Nanami. 

Nanami turned to him and nodded. “Let’s go.” 

You looked at Nanami but he turned away and started heading towards the door. You frowned and turned back to the papers in front of you. 

“You okay?” Akari said. 

You looked at her and smiled. “Yeah, I think I’m over it. It was a one night stand situation, I’m overthinking it.” She didn’t look convinced but you shook your head. “Believe me I’m not angry or hurt. Life’s too short for that.” 

    -

You headed out to your school assigned car and sat down. You glanced at the back seat in the rear view mirror. You felt your cheeks get hot as you remembered what had happened, and smacked your hands to the sides of your face. You could try to talk to him later…maybe.

As you drove towards Naka you thought about what you might eat for lunch. Along with bringing the items to the museum and picking up the ones they were trading, you were to go around and check the shrines in the area. You’d had a mission around here a while ago and remembered a soba restaurant close to the museum. Since you had spent the night at Akari’s you didn’t have the sandwich you had planned to eat today. Oh well, you thought, at least I wasn't the one that paid for it. 

You noticed you were getting close and called ahead to the museum. “Good morning, this is Y/N with Jujutsu Tech. I'm about 30 minutes away.” 

“Oh perfect,” A woman answered. “Head towards the employee parking, we’ve told the guard to let you in. By the way, we came across a new artifact donated by the estate of one of our late patrons. It looks very old and was kept in a special box, would you be able to take it to get it assessed?” 

“Yes of course!” You were a little hesitant to pick up unregistered cursed objects but usually it was no big deal. Especially if it was kept in a special box. It would be fine. 

As you walked into the back of the museum, a shiver went up your spine and you got a terrible feeling in your gut. You took a deep breath and went in, a little on edge. You went to the room you’d been instructed to and waited. Some of the items you were expecting to pick up were already laid out. An old cursed katana in need of restoration and a few Edo period items. You put down the box you were carrying. You were exchanging these items for an ancient tea set from the Nara period that was in prime condition and a painting scroll from around the same time. 

“Sorry for running a little late.” You jumped as a voice came from behind you. You tensed as you turned, you hadn’t even felt the person’s presence. 

“Oh, no problem, I’m Y/N.” 

“Yes, yes, this is the item I spoke to you on the phone about.” 

The lady put down an intricately decorated green box about 6 inches long and 4 wide. “We just got it in this morning. Our staff decided to open it to see what was inside, but only found one small object wrapped in a sort of paper wrap with writing on it. We couldn’t decipher the language, but right after we opened it the lights in the museum went out so we closed it.” She laughed nervously. “None of us are very superstitious, but we did get spooked.” 

She picked up the box to hand it to you. You grabbed it but felt that she had a tight grip on it. You pulled a little harder to take it from her but she just stared at the box. “Ma’am?” You pulled again but her grip hadn’t faltered. 

“I just…would like to see it one more time.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good-“ she yanked the box back and quickly lifted the locking notch to open the box. She stared inside. 

You went around her to look inside as well and gasped. You knew what this was. You had only seen one brought to the school when you were a student. It was one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers. You quickly shut the box and yanked it out of her hands. 

“I’ll take it from here.” She seemed to snap out of her daze and nodded. 

“Yes- uh. Let me find a box to put these loose items in so you can carry them easier. Excuse me.” The lady left the room and you stared at the box in shock. You needed to get this out of here.  

You quickly pulled your phone out and called the school. 

“Hello, this is Y/N. I’m picking up items from the Kanagawa Cultural Museum and they have given me one of Ryomen Sukuna’s fingers.” 

The person on the other end let out a small noise. “Is it bound?” 

“It’s wrapped in a talisman and contained in an emerald box.” 

“Okay... We can send the closest available sorcerers to assist you in ensuring it gets returned to the school without interruptions. Do not worry about your other tasks, the finger is the new priority.” You looked back at the box nervously. “Do you know if they unraveled the talisman?” 

“They opened the box and examined the finger but quickly closed it back up. The finger appears to still be partially wrapped in the box.” 

“We should assume they unwrapped the finger, even if it was only for a little bit, so there might be curses coming that way, and the talisman is probably weakened if not all together useless.” The guy sighed on the phone. “You said this was Y/N correct.” 

“Yes.” 

He was silent. “Take the finger and run, you won’t be able to handle whatever curses are coming your way.” 

You were hurt by his comments but knew it was true. You thanked him and hung up. You looked at the door. The lady was taking a while. You quickly began to unload your box and started loading the other contents into it. The sword was going to stick out too much so you quickly stuck it to your hip using your belt. You placed the finger in last and picked up the box. You went back into the hallway and once again felt the energy sour. 

You headed towards the exit when you noticed a shoe in the hallway. You clenched your teeth. It was a woman’s high heel, the same kind the lady had been wearing earlier. Your instincts told you to run to the car but then a smell hit your nose. Blood. Blood and the sickeningly bitter scent of a curse. 

Run. Your body was telling you to run. You were close to the exit, the car was parked right outside the door. You started to move your legs and turned towards the exit. You had been told the nearest sorcerers were heading your way. Someone else would be here to help. You would just get in the way and end up dying. You couldn’t fight, not well anyway. You didn’t have any weapons, you needed to leave, you needed to - you stopped in your tracks as you heard a small noise. You listened intently. 

“Help!” It was a whisper. “Please.” An agonizing voice coming from behind you. You turned trying to find the voice. “Help.” It was coming from the hallway to your left. You hesitated. You blinked and took a deep breath. You clutched the boxed items closer to yourself and your hand went to the katana on your hip. It was old and rusted but it was something, you weren’t completely unarmed. You quickly went toward the noise and peeked around the corner. 

You stood there shocked. The lady was sitting on the floor, her back to the wall, her face twisted in pain. She had a deep purple bruise on her right ankle and her left foot was gone. It looked like it had been hastily bit off. Where she was bleeding there was a small yellow curse lapping up the blood. 

“Help! Help me! Help.” She started yelling as she saw you approach. You ran over to her and shushed her. The little yellow curse didn’t even notice you, it was too busy drinking the blood, but it was growing in size. You put the box down next to her and looked at her wound. It was big, an injury like this required immediate attention. Your mind raced as you thought about what to do. You could try to heal it, try to use your RCT. However you had no medical knowledge whatsoever so the chances of you messing it up were greater than you fixing it. But you had to do something. Even if you didn’t understand, stopping the bleeding or scabbing it over would help tremendously. 

I don’t have enough CE for this, you thought bitterly. It would take a lot. You looked at the little creature in front of you and something clicked in your brain. You couldn’t explain it but you just knew what to do. You grabbed the creature by the base of its neck. It didn’t even flinch, it was too preoccupied consuming the trickling blood. That was until it started shrinking, its fingers curling, the tips of its ears wilting and then it started thrashing in your hands. 

You were absorbing its cursed energy. Your hand burned as you felt the rotten energy enter you. Your veins ached and you winced, feeling like you were going to be sick. The input was foul, you felt like you needed to expel it, quickly. You placed your other hand on the bloody stump and tried to focus on your reverse cursed technique. You laughed when you noticed something was happening only to flinch as the creature started to kick and scratch at you. You slammed it onto the floor trying to subdue it. It became more and more withered as you became accustomed to the feeling of absorbing its energy. The wound was looking much better. Almost. 

The yellow creature let out one final shriek before it completely deflated. The lady’s ankle was now a hardened scab. You knew it hadn’t healed completely but it wasn’t going to get any worse. You looked up and saw that she was staring horrified at your hand wrapped around the stump. In your other hand, the curse was now a grey lump of flesh. You clenched your fist and it disintegrated into ash. 

You looked up at the lady and let go of her leg. “We need to get outside.” Once outside you could make a veil and prevent whatever was inside from getting out. You had quickly deduced that the small yellow curse was not the one that had done the damage. There was something bigger and stronger and it was looking for the finger. 

You grabbed the green box with the finger, tucking it under your arm as you helped the lady up, letting her lean on you as you started for the door. You quickly hobbled there together. You were going to make it. You were two feet from the door. One foot. Your hand reached out to push when you suddenly felt the wind get knocked out of you. Your mouth flew open and released a stream of blood. The world went black for a second and you felt yourself falling. You came to, right before you hit the ground and regained your balance. You turned around quickly but your body was overcome with pain. Your hand went to your abdomen, you had broken some ribs. But what had hit you? You looked over at the lady and saw she was unconscious. “Shit.” You slid her off your shoulder and looked around for a curse. Nothing. You quickly checked her pulse. She was breathing. You sighed and stood up looking around. 

The box! You looked around the floor for it. You had dropped it when you had been hit. It was nowhere to be found. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You realized now the curse had probably slammed into you while trying to get the box. You had to get it back and fast. You stopped. No this isn’t right. I need to get this lady to safety and set a veil. I need to wait for the closest sorcerer to arrive, I can’t fight. You heard screaming from the hallway again. You clenched your jaw. You were terrified. 

You looked down at the lady and quickly picked her up. You were right by the door. You pushed open the door wheezing a little and trying your best to ignore the pain as she leaned into your broken ribs. You set her down on the steps outside and turned to the building. The curtain! you needed to put one up. You lifted a hand and muttered your phrase. 

You opened your phone and dialed the school. The same person picked up. “The situation has escalated. I was attacked and the curse got a hold of the finger. So far there's only been one confirmed injury, but I think many others are in danger. I’ve placed a veil for now,” you said.

“Stay put, help is almost there.” You looked back at the building and frowned. You hung up. You heard another yell and your stomach dropped. You felt yourself tearing up. There had to be something you could do. You needed to do something, anything, you couldn’t just stand there while everyone inside was in danger. It wasn’t fair. 

You felt your body move and before you realized, you found yourself stepping into the veil. You quickly went to the door and stepped back into the building. You saw more of the little yellow creatures climbing up and down the walls. You counted seven. They were all moving towards the same place. Looking along the wall, you spotted what you were looking for and quickly hobbled over to push the fire alarm. 

The alarm rang in your ears. You coughed and winced as more blood came out of your mouth. Your chest ached with every step, every breath, but you kept going. Someone was yelling for help. Without thinking you snatched one of the little yellow curses and started absorbing it. You were careful not to heal your own wounds. You’d been able to help the lady, but with little understanding of internal anatomy, something told you you’d do more damage than good. 

You turned the corner and found a man in shock staring at where his hand once was. You rushed over and grabbed it with your free hand exerting the cursed energy into it. The little fiend shriveled in your hand again as the wound scabbed over.

As the alarm cycled you hoped people in the museum were evacuating. Since you were in the employee backrooms you couldn’t tell. The man stared at his hand traumatized and you left him there to try to find the creature. The closer you felt you got, the more of the little yellow demons swarmed the walls, like vultures waiting for prey. You pushed past twenty trying to get through a door frame and you were surprised to see that there were at least a hundred in the next room. The curse you were looking for was there too. 

It was a large pudgy creature, around 6 feet tall with frog-like features. It had grubby hands and ornate green stripes along its back. It was muttering something, you couldn’t make out the phrase. It had a disembodied human hand in its mouth and it was sucking on the exposed wrist draining it of blood. Every time it slurped, the fingers of the hand would contract open and closed. It made your stomach uneasy. 

The curse didn’t notice you coming in, it was too preoccupied trying to open the emerald box. You noted the curse had it backwards and was trying to pry it open on the side with the hinges. You didn’t know how much longer you had. You debated what to do. In this room the curse was isolated, it couldn’t access any more victims and hopefully a majority, if not all, of the people in the museum had evacuated. There was a sorcerer on the way, you could leave it here or wait outside of the door to direct them towards the curse. 

But the finger….You could get it while it was distracted, or at least try to. You had the katana and even though it was old, it was still a weapon. As you pondered what to do you noticed the room had gone silent. The creature was still mumbling and trying to get the box open but the other small yellow creatures had gone quiet. You put your hand on the hilt of the katana once again uneasy. You made your decision. Even if you were useless you could buy some time. You slowly crept closer and closer to the curse. You took a quiet breath before pulling out the sword and swinging it at the monster's neck. 

The sword hit the curse’s flesh with a loud thunk. It was blunt. Practically useless. The creature stopped struggling with the box and its head quickly turned to look at you. It had two sets of eyes, although they all seemed to be looking in different directions. Suddenly the curse made a dive at you, mouth open ready to bite. 

You attempted to dodge to the right but you were too slow to completely move out of the way. You felt a cool sensation on your arm and you turned to see your left arm in a sorry state. The skin on your forearm and elbow was gone. Blood poured out and you could only stare in horror. The pain hit you all at once and you barely managed to turn away from your arm, trying to locate where the curse was now. It was staring at you seemingly confused as to how it had missed you, the sliver of your flesh hanging down out of its mouth like a tongue. 

It looked like it was going to charge at you again and as you started backing away you realized your back was to the wall. It realized this too and moved forward at a ridiculous speed. All you managed to do was bring up the old katana. You shut your eyes embracing yourself for the fatal blow but you only felt the curses’ plump body falling into you, wriggling around. The sword was in your hand but your wrists were twisted awkwardly around the handle and you realized it had become stuck in the creature's mouth. You let go and pushed against the creature with your leg. 

In its shocked state, it stumbled backwards and you were able to see what had happened. It had opened its mouth wide and lodged the katana between the top of his mouth and his jaw. He couldn’t shut it. It reached desperately to try to pry it out but its stubby arms couldn’t reach inside its own mouth. 

You quickly took advantage of its distraction to try to locate the green box. You spotted it on the ground in the middle of the room.You looked back at the creature making sure it was still distracted and started sneaking away. 

It suddenly let out a loud screech and its body started contorting. Its head grew bigger and smaller, arms longer and shorter. It seemed to be trying to molt out of its body to get rid of the sword. But no matter how much it twisted and yelled the sword wouldn’t come out. You wondered for a second, what kind of curse was imbued on the sword. 

You took another step away and suddenly the creature’s attention snapped back to you. You tried to make a run for it but it hurtled its way in front of you and slammed you back into the wall. 

You yelled out weakly, more blood spilling from your mouth and your left arm sending a shooting pain throughout your body as your exposed muscle stained the wall with your blood. The curse moved its hands to your neck and lifted you up, choking you against the wall. You desperately tried to inhale and tried not to panic, but the combination of the pain and lack of oxygen wasn’t letting you think clearly. You kicked desperately at the curse but it wasn’t budging. You put your hands up to its wrists and tried to budge them to no avail.   

As you started to see dots, your kicks got weaker. You felt its grip tighten and your hands fell weakly onto its arms. You began trying to take the energy out. Your body felt almost as if it was on autopilot. No air and feeling defeated, you started to allow the cursed energy you were absorbing into you entirely. You felt a burning sensation on your arm and coming from inside your chest. Your entire body felt hot as you felt things fixing themselves. You also noticed the grip around your neck had faltered some as you took a desperate and choppy gulp of air. That little flow of oxygen allowed you to think a little more clearly as you kept absorbing the CE. 

You didn’t want to finish healing yourself but you needed to put the energy somewhere. You looked at the curse in front of you. Its face was right in front of your chest. You reached down with your right hand and grabbed the blade of the katana. You began transferring the energy into it. You felt the sword get hot and push back, almost as if it was refusing the new input of CE, but after gripping the steel tighter you felt the sword lose its dullness. 

The rust started to fall away and the metallic sheen of the blade began to glow. The edge of the sword was becoming very sharp. You wanted to let go but found that your hand was bound to it, the transfer requiring more and more CE and blood and pain. You felt the blade cut into your palm and you ground your teeth. You needed to stop. You ripped your hand away from the blade and removed your hand from the curse’s arm. You quickly put your hands into the curse’s mouth and grabbed its teeth and lip. You pulled its upper jaw down hard for it to close its mouth and watched as the newly sharpened sword point pierce through the creature’s palate and skewered out through the top of its head. As the tip of the blade suddenly appeared through its skull, the grip around your neck loosened and the curse dropped flat on the ground, twitching. 

You could only stare in shock at what had just happened. 

Suddenly a rush of the small yellow curses began moving forward to consume the liquids oozing out of the curse. You felt your stomach churn as you watched them lap everything up. You turned away from the sight and looked for the box. You took a staggering step towards the item, still laying in the middle of the room, and let out a yelp. Your entire body felt heavy and tired. You felt sick. You still had an excess of CE and your body couldn’t handle it. You collapsed to your knees as you neared the box. You placed your palms on the floor and tried to expel the energy from your body. The floor beneath you turned black and cracked. You poured it all out and felt slight relief, but still felt sore and achy. You looked back up at the box and reached for it. You took it in your hands and sat back. You took a shaky breath and laughed. That could have been bad. 

You jumped as you heard the door open and quickly turned towards it. You felt a slight pang of relief as you realized it was a pair of sorcerers. That relief turned to anger as you realized it was two students. 

Inumaki and Maki. They stared at you curiously and looked around trying to make sense of what had happened. You looked around too. The place was crawling with little yellow curses, a horde of them concentrated on the still twitching body of the large curse with a katana stuck through his skull. There was a human hand just laying limp to your right and you were sitting in the middle of the room. You bet you were a sight to see. Your suit was torn in various places, soaked in blood from wounds that had healed. 

“Are you okay?” Maki asked. 

“The curse-“ you stopped and put a hand up to your throat. It was burning and speaking felt difficult. Your voice had a heavy rasp to it due to your windpipe almost being crushed. You tried to clear your throat but it sent a sharp pain down it. “The curse has been defeated, I secured the finger.” You finally said fighting against the fire in your throat. You held up the box. “Are you two the only ones here?” 

“Daisuke is outside, he drove us here.” Another manager. 

“Tuna.” 

“We’ll take care of these creatures, Daisuke is waiting with another secure container to put the finger in.” 

You sighed and nodded. “Any casualties?” 

“None, almost everyone was evacuated. Police and firemen have arrived on scene. The veil you placed is very good.” Maki said. 

You slowly got to your feet and tucked the box under your right arm. You had healed your previously flayed left arm but it still felt sore. You put your hand on your left elbow to try to comfort it. “Be careful. He’s down but he’s got razor sharp teeth. Also we need that sword. If you could get it for me that would be great,” you said with a smile. You could tell from their faces that it wasn’t very convincing.

You limped out of the room and collapsed against the wall once you were out. They sent students? If the curse had gotten a hold of the finger the students would have been in serious danger. You would have surely been killed, and they wouldn’t have known what they were walking into. You were going to say something when you got back. You got back to your feet and started heading towards the exit. 

You spotted Daisuke talking with some policemen as you emerged from the veil. He looked at you shocked to see the state you were in and quickly pulled out a wooden box to put the cursed item in. You dropped the box into it and he quickly shut it, muttering some kind of extra enchantment on it. 

You leaned against the car exhausted and still feeling off. “Are you okay?” 

You looked at him and nodded. “Yes,” you hesitated. “But I think I’m going to need you to give me a ride back to the school.” 

The students finished up quickly and you sat in the passenger seat sleeping the whole way back. You felt uneasy still. Your bones creaking and your entire body sore. 

Once inside the school you insisted on taking the box and delivering it to the main office. You wanted to talk to the staff member you had talked with over the phone. 

You swung open the door to his office and stormed up to his desk. You dropped the box onto the infront of him and stared the worker down. “Here it is. One of the legendary Ryomei Sukuna fingers, one of the most powerful relics in the world, previously unwrapped and unbound less than an hour ago.” 

The guy looked at the box and then up at you giving you a criticizing glare. “You seem upset.”

“Why the fuck would you send two students instead of a high ranked sorcerer?”

The guy looked away from you and smirked. “They were the closest available and besides, if you were able to handle it why would I waste someone’s time?” He gave you a snarky smile. 

Your blood boiled. He had a point but you had gotten so lucky. “They could have gotten hurt if the curse had been able to get the finger, you didn’t know the whole situation of what was going on.” 

He shrugged. “It looks like I made the right decision. If you, out of anyone, was able to defeat the curse, there was no real danger. The curse even cauterized the wounds. None of the victims were in grave danger.” 

“What?” 

“Two of the victims were found with missing limbs but not even bleeding out or anything.” He started to act annoyed. “Look I have things to do, I expect your report by tomorrow, let us know your thoughts in the appropriate feedback section. Have a nice day. Get out.” 

You stared at him frustrated before storming out of the room and almost running into someone. “Sorry,” you muttered before looking up. It was Nanami. 

He looked down at you concerned by the state you were in, bloodied and sweaty. “Y/N are you okay?” 

For some reason that was your last straw. His question made your eyes start watering. You rolled your eyes blinking hard to try to stop the tears. “I’m fine.” You said not meeting his gaze. He didn’t move. 

“You should go see Shoko.” He said, his voice now softer. He moved his hand to your face, carefully placing it under your chin to make you look at him. His thumb grazed your cheek. You looked up at him and frowned, tears leaking from your eyes. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Nothing had been going your way and you were exhausted. You took a step forward towards Nanami and wrapped your arms around him. 

It was stupid, but you desperately needed some kind of comfort. He didn’t move at first but he eventually put his arms around you. You buried your face into his shirt and felt yourself relax for the first time in hours. You felt your eyes close right as your legs gave out beneath you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

˚₊✩‧₊nana here: okay okay i got a little (a lot) carried away with the fight scene. I just love making Y/N a badass and I promise it makes sense later. Again theres a lot added in thats part of a longer story but idk...if anything i'll cross post here and ao3. Thank yall for reading and as always if you saw a typo, no you didn't.

please click on through to pt. 4 and if you did read this all, I love you.

super duper shout out to @zoldsick for reading and editing my crazy ideas, thank you cath<3

pt. 1 pt. 2. pt. 4 pt 5.

˚₊✩‧₊ taglist: @wrldtups @rjreins @phattyboo90 @tnyblacklesbo @silkija @justwantedachange @inthedarkshadows000 @nniiyyaa @starkmila09 @sikuthealien @wifenanami @bloombb @kentos-glasses @inciteterr0r

[k9effect]

I thought about Mav passed out at his work desk with headphones on and it spiralled into this whole thing

Mav always felt a little lonely.

Even when he had people around him who loved him, he always ended up on his own one way or another and felt that loneliness seeping in. Goose was the first to notice. Before Goose's trips back to Tennessee to see Carole included Mav, he would come back to base to hear about how his pilot had lost a bit of his shine while he was away.

That's when Goose started making the recordings.

It was a small gift, but it meant the world to Mav. A brand new walkman, headphones and all, and a single cassette tape. This tape didn't have music on it, no, it contained a three hour recording of Goose reading though the F-14 Tomcat Flight Manual and adding in his own comedic commentary.

He wasn't sure what Mav would think of it, but when he returned home from another trip and found his pilot curled up asleep on the lounge, headphones on, walkman clutched in his hands, the tape run through, he realised he had made the right decision. Once Mav stirred, realising Goose had returned, he pulled the RIO onto the couch and thanked him for how thoughtful and considerate of a gift it was. That it made him feel less alone.

Goose continued the recordings. They were simple things he could make while completing other work. An hour recording here of Goose rambling while he completed chores, half an hour recording there of Goose muttering while he completes some paperwork. Even after Mav started joining him on his trips to Carole and they inevitably became attached at the hip, Goose continued making recordings. They grew more sincere over time, telling Mav that he was loved and he was strong and could get through anything.

Maverick was very glad he continued making them. It was a piece of Goose he could always carry with him.

Because one day, Goose wasn't there anymore.

Ice was never quite certain why his wingman was always listening to music on a busted walkman, but he never questioned it.

That was until he was packing Mav an overnight bag after an accident and Mav had specifically requested the walkman. Ice had taken a closer look at it and seen the writing on the cassette.

‘GOOSE - 12’

Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled on the headphones and pressed play.

“Y'know, Mav-” It was Goose's voice, Ice realised with a pang deep in his chest, “- I'm pretty sure, by like, most, if not all, the laws of aviation, you should have broken our Tomcat's airframe several times over. I honestly don't know how she's still together-” There was the clinking of dishes and sloshing of water along with the distinct sound of a bristly, sudsy brush scrubbing metal. “- What sort of demon did you make a deal with to manage this? I'm not arguing, I'd rather not face a board of inquiry again, but I'm curious.”

Ice paused it.

He realised very quickly what the cassette was and that, judging on the number, there were more of these.

Mav was always listening to Goose talk.

He packed the walkman into the overnight bag with much more care than he offered possibly anything.

Mav stared.

He blinked once, then twice. But it changed nothing.

There was a cassette sitting on his bed. On it, was scribbled a name and a number.

‘ICE - 1’

Beneath it was a small, simple note.

‘Listen to me.’

Mav pushed the cassette into his walkman and, sitting down, let it play.

“Hey, Mav. Sorry if this is weird for you, it sure feels weird for me. I- uh- I realised what the walkman is for. I'm sorry I teased you for it, it's not dumb and old. I know Slider thought you were pretty cool for having one. He's got one too. But anyways, I found a recording of Goose and I realised why you have this so I thought, y'know, maybe I could make you some new ones? To make up for the teasing at least. I mightn't be as good as Goose but I'll give it my best shot. I've got a book here, I'm just gonna read it out loud for a while, okay? Okay. Here we go…”

Mav listened to the whole thing in one sitting. It was long and sweet and Mav felt something aching inside him, something that hadn't ached in a long time.

Every week or so, Mav would find another cassette in his room with an increased number on it. It was just Ice for a while, but then he found one labelled ‘SLIDER - 1’. Then another a few months later labelled ‘HOLLYWOOD - 1’, then ‘WOLFMAN - 1’. His collection grew as more people helped continue Goose's legacy.

The day he found ‘VIPER - 1’ he felt like he was five again. Viper's recording was two hours worth of him recounting childhood stories of Mav, stories of him with his parents, of just his parents, and deployment tales of his dad.

Once Mav buys his first proper home, an old hangar out in the Mojave Desert, he builds a small shelf to hold all of his cassettes instead of keeping them in a bag or a box. It's then, when they're all neatly organised together, that he realises just how many he has.

The original thirty-one from Goose.

Three from Carole.

One short one from Bradley.

Seventeen from Iceman.

Ten from Slider.

Seven each from Hollywood and Wolfman.

Four from Chipper.

Three from Sunny.

And, so far, Two from Viper.

He doesn't feel so lonely anymore. Everyone he loves has put time and effort into making sure he doesn't feel alone. That instead, he feel loved.

And he sure does.

Even now, years down the track, Ice will stumble upon Maverick passed out at his work desk late at night ontop of a half finished project, with his old walkman next to him, headphones on, listening to Goose laugh his way through the Tomcat manual.

[jester089]

I have a request for the tdac characters to fall in love with child reader(platonically) and basically be attached to them like their younger sibling figure, and now imagine the reader starts to slowly get insane in some way and abstracts, and they just watch in horror as they see their practically younger sibling abstract and taken away to the black hole(I forgot what its called), and they get out of character, I need some angst and out of character mfs

So young

Now I have done multiple things on this type of idea so it's probs gonna be really similar to some of my past works. I'll still do my best though. For future reference in requesting please specify if you want a oneshot or headcannons. I did a little of both for this one but it was tiring, so please specify.

TADC Crew x Child Reader Who Abstracts

You were by far the youngest in the Digital Circus. Out of everyone you actually enjoyed it there, it was colorful, safe, had plenty of things to do. And had people who actually cared about you. It was a place of respite for you after you're awful family. Well awful isn't the right word they weren't abusive or anything. Just neglectful. Caine was a lot like a weird uncle to you. Always had some kind of gift for you when he saw you and despite what he says you know he cares about you. You were just about the only person who genuinely enjoyed his little adventures and jokes so he ended up getting kind of attached to you. As much as an AI could at least.

Gangle more often then not wasn't around you. She didn't avoid you or anything but she didn't go out of her way to be around you. One time when her mask broke and you saw her crying you went to Caine to ask if she was ok. He explained as best he could to you that she isn't really sad, just her mask broke. So you asked Caine to help you fix it. A few hours later you're at Gangle's door with a fixed mask in a present box. Once she saw that you of all people, the youngest one here went out of your way to help her she started to warm up to you.

Zooble most definitely didn't enjoy being around you Lies. She always acted like you annoyed her and she wanted to be anywhere else. But the few times you two have been alone she's surprisingly nice. She taught you how to make a paper hat one time then for the next few weeks you were never seen without one on.

Kinger took on a much more loving approach with you. He saw you as young and in danger and with no one to guide you. And if you were just left alone Jax would probably swoop in like a vulture and corrupt you. So he half took you in and did his best to raise you and teach you. It was hard as their isn't anything for learning in the circus but he did his best. It annoys him to no end when he hears a censored word come from you only to learn that Zooble's been teaching you swears behind his back.

Ragatha did her best with Kinger to raise you so you had some kind of future ahead of yourself. Despite the fact that they no one ages they still want you to be prepared. She took on a very "over protective older sister" kind of way with you. You're young, weak, and gullible so she's constantly worrying about you. Enough for her to set up a bed for you in her room. Plus side is she'll read you bedtime stories.

Jax's sole goal since he found out Kinger and Ragatha were teaching you and keeping you away from him is to taint you. Whenever you're left alone he kind of just appears and offers you something fun to do with him so you'll follow him. He has fed so many lies to your malleable young brain. Like "Hey kid. Did'ja know that Ragatha loves centipedes? I actually caught one earlier today. Why don'cha give it to er?" so naturally you did. You got grounded for that. Pomni is the one you feel closest too. You're innocent and kind nature help her keep calm(er). And her being around your height makes you feel more comfortable around her so you're always seen dragging her around to do something silly. You help her look for the exit, kind of. Your different way of seeing the world has helped her find many things out though. Did you know that their's a secret building at the bottom of the the digital lake? She only found it cause you mentioned said something about Atlantis while swimming then proceeded to dive under the water scaring her.

All of them started to get worried when your usual energetic and optimistic self started to act tired, all the time. Even someone as at your age who seems to be the perfect fit isn't immune to the problems the circus has it seems. When you started to get depressed it freaked Ragatha out causing her to be more strict with you because she didn't want to see you hurt. That only made it worse though. None of them take you abstracting well. Even Jax, despite being a jerk he ended up getting kind of attached to you. Cause no matter how mean he was you were always nice to him. "Wonder if their still causing chaos in the afterlife..." Caine being the ring master was always trying to cheer everyone up and get their mind off you but it never really worked. It slightly affected him too, not because he was attached to you. But because you were so young... "Couldn't even keep a kid alive..." Ragatha after losing you would either lock herself in her room staring at your old bed trying to decide on if she should or shouldn't take it down. It the only thing she has left to remember you by. You had your whole life ahead of you. But she ended up not being able to help. Just like with all those others... "Is it even worth the effort at this point. Am I even helping..." Kinger had already lost Queenie his S/O... Now you, the one he was actually starting to see as his kid. That is what pushed him over the deep end. You two his family, both abstracted. At least he'll get too see you two again... "I'll be there soon love, just have to grab Y/N's books..."

(Idk if this is good or at all what you wanted. But I tried. Hope you enjoyed it. Also if you all could please check my request rules before requesting. It would make my life much easier. Thanks. Also I kinda wanna re-write this without the abstraction part.)

xoxo, Jester

[williamkisser]

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

[crguang]

imagine in kafka violinist AU, reader works in a classical music record store or maybe even an instrument store and kafka decides to check out the place and they meet after so long ☹️☹️

[ ok, i'm imagining it. this has no right being over 3,5k words but i swear sev and i do think of cute scenarios with them... sometimes. ]

“now i am stuck between my anger and the blame that i can't face, memories are something even smoking weed does not replace.”

//

She’s sixteen again, boredly waiting around with the back of her head against your locker and a biology textbook nestled in her arms. People walk by her impatient gaze holding hands firmly, complaining loudly so everyone shares their annoyance, half-asleep as they drag their feet across the school hallways, and she watches them pass her by in silent judgment. They are all so uninteresting, so mundanely boring, and her eyes soon grow hazy following the shift in her thoughts while she waits. She remembers the movie tickets she still has to buy behind your back before Friday, then tells herself she will have time to take the bus to the movie theater on Wednesday after class when neither of you have music practice. She knows you dislike horror movies, but she finds them funny and she really wants to see this one. You’ll refuse when she asks you to come with, then begrudgingly take her hand when she produces the tickets from her backpack because you feel guilty about her already spending money on an outing for the two of you. She forgot the leather gloves she loves so much this morning, too hurried to make sure they were indeed put in her coat yesterday evening, so she’ll ask for one of yours before heading to the bus stop. Despite it only being minutes away, you’ll absentmindedly throw it her way. She smiles to herself. Her head lowers and she takes a quick glance at the thin watch around her wrist: ten minutes until the final bell. You’re late. With a disgruntled noise at the back of her throat, she straightens up and adjusts the strap over her shoulder. She won’t stain her perfect attendance record because you missed your 7 AM alarm, she’ll demand explanations at lunch and enjoy how you avert your eyes from hers in embarrassment. 

You’re not sitting at the back of classroom 311B waiting for her with your lunch on your lap, and her lips curve downward into a displeased pout. You didn’t show today, then. She wonders if you got sick between last Friday and now and makes a mental note to come knocking on your door after practice, if only to make sure you’re still alive even if you’re moaning in misery. She drops her backpack on a chair, plopping down at a nearby desk. Her AP Maths homework is laid out on the surface and she spends the free hour getting ahead in her classes within the quiet room, her cheek lazily resting on her palm.

As her literature teacher expands on the use of literary devices in creative writing, she thinks she might bring something to your house later. You were weird Friday and you’re missing practice, she’s now sure you’re feeling unwell. Peach gummies should do it, maybe, you’re so easy to please. You still have that shitty drawing the both of you made together when you were eight plastered beside the album posters on your wall. She hates looking at it every time she comes over but you threaten to have it framed, so she rolls her eyes and ignores the glaring reminder of her attachment staring down at her mockingly. 

Kafka blinks rapidly and her vision instantly focuses on the fading tendrils of cigarette smoke swimming in the air in front of her. The roll is secure between her index and middle fingers, pointing towards the open back window of her sleek black car. She regains her bearings. Her gaze darts to the driver’s seat where Blade’s head leans back on the headrest, eyes closed and arms crossed as he awaits new instructions. Her lips stretch into a small smile at her ridiculous train of thought and she looks outside the window, bringing the cigarette back to her mouth. There’s nothing to see, only passersby and concrete buildings, the front doors of multiple stores aligned on the narrow street. She takes a slow drag and allows the tobacco smoke to sit on her tongue before exhaling softly. She calls it reminiscing during a moment’s reprieve, but that would require the act to be voluntary and peaceful. It’s happening more frequently recently, her mind escapes her for a few minutes as she smokes and it’s starting to defeat the purpose of her cigarette breaks. This weight you hold, impossible to forget, is now slowing her down instead of feeding her ambitions, and anything that is not actively serving her is unnecessary. These memories are unnecessary. They’re pathetic, the same moments rotate through her mind in a broken loop she’s unable to pull the plug on, yet so undeniably haunting. The lack of control over her own thoughts irritates her to no end, her fingers are tight around her violin’s neck, her right arm stiff and reminiscent of the first time she held one in her hands. Another breath past her lips and she makes up her mind. 

Kafka puts out her cigarette on the ashtray resting on the cupholder to her left. She reaches for a pocket mirror in her handbag and flips it open, observing the makeup on her features. Her lipstick has faded a little in the middle of her bottom lip, so she reapplies it carefully. It’s an alluring peach color, her favorite. She smacks her lips and smiles to herself as if to make sure there isn’t a crack in her impenetrable facade, then puts the mirror back where it was initially and sprays her signature perfume over her pulse points. Kafka shakes her head, carefully brushing the dark magenta strands of her bangs away from her cheeks. She sits in the car for another moment, bracing herself, then unlocks the back door.

“Be back in a few, Bladie.” 

The driver doesn’t flinch when the car door shuts firmly behind her. Kafka lowers her prized sunglasses over her eyes. The car is parked a couple of minutes from the vintage record store she’s heard mentions of prior to traveling to Europe for performances, the street is better explored by foot and having her vehicle positioned directly in front of the store while she pondered things would have attracted unnecessary attention. She strolls down the decorated street and its colored asphalt the way she had almost three weeks ago, taking in the local shops and restaurants. Though it’s the middle of the day, only a little past one in the afternoon, the place isn’t as crowded as it usually is when she drives by (twice a week, for three weeks now.) She checks out the window apparel of two clothing stores then decides to step inside another time. She makes it to the record store a minute later and stands in front of the large window offering a glimpse of its interior, an index finger rhythmically drumming against her thigh. It’s empty, save for a blonde woman with a purple streak dyed into her hair that she’s seen work the floor before. Kafka checks the small watch around her wrist. It’s around the same time she passes by on her way to practice. She pushes the door open and steps inside.

A small bell rings out, announcing her presence, and the blonde worker doesn’t even look up from the thick textbook laid on the register counter. She scribbles away, brows furrowed in concentration. Kafka ignores her in turn. Her fingertips trail on packaged vinyls as she makes her way to the jazz section of the store, taking note of the relative stillness of the space with only low radio music to fill the silence. Her heeled boots clack along the ceramic floor with every leisure step. She’s waiting, pausing in front of a particular record and turning it over in her hands, aware of the other person in the room. She listens deeply while she pretends to read the cover and the perpetual easy smile on her lips widens infinitesimally at the sound of cardboard boxes getting ripped open in the backroom behind the register. She glances at her gloved hands. Steady as always.

“Holy fu—!” The blonde worker exclaims in surprise then quickly collects herself enough not to swear, clearing her throat once. 

Kafka’s disinterested gaze lands on her. She closes her textbook with a thud and leaves her post at the cash register to stand in front of her in record time, a gleam in her eyes and a grin on her face like she just won the lottery.

“Are you Kafka? The violinist?” Her voice lowers conspiratorially and she slightly leans forward in excitement. 

Kafka tilts her head to the side in amusement. “I might be.”

The woman takes a breath and claps her hands together over her lips in a praying gesture. “You have no idea how much you just brightened my day, Kafka. Can I have a picture, if it’s not too weird? My phone’s in the backroom, I can go get it. It’ll be super quick.”

She’s promptly walking away before the other can reply, a bounce in her step. Kafka follows her figure until it disappears past the door. She turns back to the record in her hands, then puts it back on the shelf to continue browsing the aisle. She’s not looking for anything in particular but if she does leave the store with a few more records under her arms, she won’t complain.

“They asked for me personally?”

“Yep! Go, go, I’ll take care of this batch.”

Her ears pick up on the conversation happening in the backroom, the voices getting louder as they approach the front of the store, and her next exhale is audible despite herself; yours still sounds the same. She reminds herself that she already smoked ten minutes ago.

“But who are they?”

“I don’t know, a customer. Just go!”

“Fine, jeez…”

Kafka lifts her gaze to the backroom door the moment it’s pushed open and instantly meets yours. She’s taken by the sudden sunlight in the room, all of it on your features; softly tracing the curve of your nose and the bow of your lips, resting over your cheek like a warm palm, sun rays kiss half of you and hold you close in a way she’s no longer sure she remembers the feel of. If she could tear her eyes away, she would notice the afternoon sun reflected on every surface of the store, a detail previously overlooked. There are bags under your eyes and something so small grows into a striking detail because this is her first time seeing them on you.  Your hair is put away from your face today, different than it was last week when Blade drove past the place, every line and shadow is  presented for her viewing pleasure and she drinks them in during a suspended instant. You’re older. That fact shouldn’t surprise her, she feels ridiculous. Her hands are immobile in the air, two vinyls between them brought up for comparison, and her mouth unknowingly twitches downward, about a hundred words she refuses to say push each other to be the first out of her lips, but she keeps it tightly shut. Your eyes widen the next second— for someone who always closely keeps track of time, she doesn’t know how much has passed since your eyes first met— and Kafka’s lower to your bobbing throat. Your hand goes to your rapidly rising chest and you turn your back on her as if frightened. 

“S-Serval, are you sure you don’t need help?” The tremor in your sentence and your averted gaze pulls Kafka out of her thoughts. She almost rolls her eyes at your lame attempt to run from her. Again. 

“I’m sure! Everything’s good here!”

You lean forward and try to regain control over your breathing for a few seconds, shoulders tense, before you slowly turn on your heel to face her once more. Guilt. She recognizes it easily, it’s laced in the curve of your brows and your colored irises. You swallow another time, your hands limp at your sides, and look at her helplessly. Out of the kindness of her heart and against her petty wish for you to keep that haunted look on your face, Kafka helps you out. 

“…I’m hesitating between these.” She holds up the records in her hands.

You blink. It takes you another moment of silence to register her words, and when you do, you reluctantly begin to make your way to her. Your steps are short and slow like you’re walking to the gallows, Kafka can’t help the bitter amusement in her smile. She feels a strange sort of vindication from your behavior, her past hesitation now forgotten. She watches you get closer through the filter of her sunglasses. You stand next to her a polite distance away and glance at the vinyls she’s holding.

“…What are you looking for?” You avoid her gaze and take the records she hands you, instead reading over the album titles and songs. 

Kafka doesn’t look away from you. “Something… relaxing. Slow tempo, the kind you sway to.”

You put the records back on the shelf and reach for another, presenting it to her. “This musician’s good.”

“Mmm. You listened to it?”

“Not this album, but some of his other songs. His music always has the same theme to it, it might be the vibe you’re searching for.”

“What theme is that?”

She knows what it is, she already has a copy of that record at home. It’s a childish delight to witness your reluctance to answer, but she doesn’t care.

“Regret.”

Kafka lets the following pause stretch longer than necessary. She finally tears her eyes from your form to continue browsing the shelves, fingertips trailing over the numerous records neatly stacked one next to the other. She walks some steps away from you as she skims the artists’ names and tilts her head your way when you hold up a different album for her to decide on. She makes a show of pondering about it before asking for another option. She does this for a while, finds a reason to criticize every record you present to her and observes the rapidly deepening frown on your lips. It’s stupid, she thinks fleetingly, how easily you turn back into a child in her mind. You made that face whenever you missed a note in the middle of practice, too. You lifted your eyes in exasperation just like this after another one of her lame jokes, too. You often fiddled with the beads necklace on your collarbone back then as well. Kafka looks away. It's a silver dog tag now. 

“What about this one?” Your tone is slightly more clipped than it was five minutes ago. She ignores it. “It’s a collection of ballads–- older New Orleans swing, soulful, soft. I’d say it’s what you’d like to listen to based on all of your critiques. You’d sway to that, right?”

Kafka takes the record and carefully looks it over. It’s a good suggestion and most of the songs on there are so far personally unheard of, on any other day she actually would have bought it. She puts it back on the shelf where you found it, then faces you.

“Maybe a decade ago. I might be in the mood for something more Romantic, actually.”

You pause, a little taken aback. Your thumb and index fingers take hold of the tag around your neck. “Uh… okay. I’d consider those ballads romantic, though.”

Kafka chuckles quietly. “The era.”

“…Right.” You turn away from her in embarrassment. “That’s another section, then.”

“Lead the way.”

Since she’s the only customer in the store at present, you can’t escape from repeating the same frustrating pattern as before: you suggest a record, it is “not quite what Kafka is looking for”, and she follows that comment with passive aggressivity so subtle that you would have been fooled by her harmless smile if you didn’t already know what she was referring to. Kafka can see your growing exasperation but you have different tells now, it’s all in the purse of your lips and the curl of your fingers at your side. The way you speak, your eloquence when expressing yourself and describing music and the knowledge you bring to the table allows her to fill in some of the blanks washed out by time and space. You’re becoming irritated and she is learning you through it. You work in a record store, you don’t question any of the musical terms she employs and you clearly know what you’re talking about when recommending diverse pieces to her. You haven’t given up on the medium, then. Kafka pushes her relief aside.

“What is it that you’re looking for in particular?” You ask, aggravated after yet another shot down from her and crossing your arms over your chest. There’s a crease between your brows but she notices your shoulders have relaxed significantly since you started conversing.

Kafka doesn’t even have to think about that one. “Violin sonatas.”

She’s not looking at you, pretending to read over the back of a record, but she can almost hear the grinding of your teeth as yet another moment of silence is filled by the pop music over the radio speakers. Though she can’t help the bitterness growing around her organs like mold, neither of you actually acknowledge knowing each other before this afternoon. What is left unsaid spreads to every corner of the store, suffocating fumes charged with your guilt and her hurt, and you both stand in the middle of it, stubbornly breathing in the toxic air. 

If anything, Kafka commends your efforts in attempting to maintain your composure. Your chest falls with a soft exhale and you return to the shelves, browsing the selection with her preferences in mind. She glances at her watch. She has a commitment in an hour, she didn’t think this would take as long as it had. She briefly remembers Blade waiting around in the car, probably dozing off behind the wheel until she returns. 

“Here,” you speak and her head lifts to look at the vinyl you’re handing her. “It’s a miscellaneous collection. If there’s an exact sound that you want, it’s likely there.”

“I already have this one.” A white lie. Kafka doesn’t take the record, instead raises her eyes to yours. “I thought maybe this store would have something out of the ordinary, given its local reputation.” Her gaze boredly sweeps over the empty store before settling on you again. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

“Enough,” you’ve finally had enough of her implications, she watches you put your foot down with rapt attention. “What do you want me to do, record my own shitty playing before you’re satisfied?”

Shitty? She almost scoffs, personally offended. The missing key to her art, shitty?

“Maybe. Would you run from that as well?”

Your features first twist in shock at her dry reply, then twitch involuntarily as you try to mask the hurt that laces the natural curve of your bottom lip. You blink, averting your eyes the way you so often do now, and Kafka pauses at your reaction, almost daring you to contradict her. Another awkwardly charged silence falls upon you both. You seem to have many of those. She’s tempted to break it with a nonchalant remark, but the words freeze on her tongue at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and trembling lips. She stands and stares as you bring a hand to your face, uselessly attempting to reign in the emotion drawn across the lines of it. By the looks of it, you try very hard but are ultimately unable to stop your throat from bobbing with every difficult swallow and your lashes from fluttering to keep the sting of your eyes at bay. You’re suddenly taken with emotion, and Kafka stares in disbelief concealed as apathy. You briskly walk past her and make a beeline for the register counter, using its surface to support your hands and turning your back on her again. The distance could not be clearer, this time dug by her own hands. She hears your shuddering breaths, watches the growing tension in your back and shoulder muscles, and a sensation she does not recognize stops her from uttering anything. You look small, you sound weak, and it goes against every thought she's had of you for the past decade. It goes against the space you occupy in her mind--- unrelenting, expansive, insisting. You are not the teenager she sees when she looks at you nor the quiet child she thinks of when she's had too much to drink, you are simply a crying stranger she has no right to unravel, and yet she finds it difficult to look away.

Kafka is uncomfortable, rooted where she stands, and for once at a loss of what to do. She's relieved from doing anything as the blonde worker from earlier, Serval, stalks into the room with a frown bending her lips. There's no trace of her previous excitement, she immediately rounds the register to place herself next to you and rests a kind hand on your back, murmuring concerned inquiries that you can only shake your head to. Serval faces Kafka with a perfected customer service smile, all past pretenses gone.

"You should go, I'm sure a bigshot like you has more important things to do in a day than linger here."

Kafka smiles. "I do." She adjusts the silk gloves over her hands and spares a last glance at your back. She reaches into one of her coat pockets, steps closer to the register, and slides a sleek card with a minimalist design toward you with two fingers. "If you want to put your shitty playing to use."

The entry bell rings out as Kafka walks out of the record store.

[n1ghtwr1ter]

At the end of my latest TLT reread and it’s been physically painful attempting to read the last 40+ pages of Nona. Like, the short shrift that Gideon/Kiriona gets given by the people in the story…the theoretical good guys who honestly only see her as a thing, as a means to an end with an inconvenient dead soul attached to it… It makes me want to rip my own heart out of my chest.

Nobody has cared about Gideon her whole life. Most people, in fact, if they remembered about her at all, went out of their way to tell her how much they wished she didn’t exist. In the final chapters of Gideon, she finally gets the thing she’s been desperate for her whole life: somebody telling her that they need her, they care that she exists, and they badly want her to go on doing it. This allows her to make peace with the prospect that at the ripe old age of 18, she needs to die so that that person can go on living and living and living, using the castrated remnants of her soul as fuel to do so. Not a great way to go, but at least Gideon would get to be useful to somebody, would get to be remembered for something.

And then she wakes up in the wrong body, and finds out that her sacrifice - her attempt to be useful in the most selfless way possible, in that her self will no longer exist - has been rejected. And not only that, but the person she tried to give herself to - the one who was supposed to care about her - went to extreme lengths to make completely sure that she no longer remembered about Gideon.

She literally cut Gideon out of her brain.

And now, drifting along in the worst sort of half life where she’s inhabiting her body but it’s no longer really hers, in very obvious fashion - there’s holes in it, her heart is missing, and it’s got her shitty father’s handprints all over it (not even touching how much of a violation that is), indelibly - she finally meets back up with the small group of people who could theoretically be relied upon to be glad to see her again.

But then the one who was supposed to care about her most tries to kiss her (massively OOC for Harrow), and turns out to not even be there - it’s some weird baby inhabiting her body, and doing a really shit job of it too. The rest of them won’t stop talking about how they need her to break into the Tomb - as if she was just another key, same as the ones they worked together to acquire in Canaan House, just bigger and more inconvenient - and/or how they both fucked and killed her mom, who also (surprise, surprise) wished that Gideon had never existed, but saw her as a thing that needed to be done for the good of the mission.

Ultimately, they all make it abundantly clear - Palamedes, Camilla, Pyrrha, and especially Nona, all these people who are supposed to be kind and good and right - that they would prefer she wasn’t there. That it just be her body, with no Gideon attached - at least not Gideon the way she is now, broken and rejected and miserable. They would all far have preferred that she not have her own inconvenient thoughts and feelings and desires and impulses - that she just be inanimate and let the important people, the grown ups, get things done.

They wish she didn’t exist. Same as everybody else in her life, save one, and now she’s left wondering whether Harrow really meant it at all. Because if she did, she wouldn’t have left Gideon to Kiriona’s fate.

And honestly? Really, truly? I know everybody in the fandom loves Pal and Cam and Nona and Pyrrha, but in the end I couldn’t give less of a shit about them. They are fucking side characters, and as intriguing as Nona has been from a worldbuilding standpoint, I ultimately resent having been forced to read 400+ pages of filler bullshit about fucking side characters. I am a butch, and I’m here for my sarcastic, loving, angry, vulnerable, forgiving, and yes, inconvenient sword butch. I’m here for Gideon. But Gideon has been fridged for the last two books of the series in which she is supposed to be a, if not the, main character.

And it feels like almost nobody else in the fandom feels the same way, which, fine. I’m used to that. I’m also used to being told I’m projecting; and I’m used to being told that I’m inconvenient too, in my thoughts and my opinions and the mere fact of my existence. I spent the first eighteen years of my life being told I was inconvenient. Yet another point of overidentification with Gideon.

But in case anybody still thinks that Nona proves that Gideon was an asshole all along, think about all of the above. Think about how it would make you feel to come back from not just death but from the erasure of your existence, something you chose in order to save the life of someone you loved, and be told that you’re inconvenient. Think about how you’d feel if you’d been told all your life that it would be better for everyone if you didn’t exist. And then tell me that Kiriona isn’t in the right and that I should give a rat’s ass what happens to literally anybody else.

It’s Kiriona Hours up in this House, butches. We’ve spent long enough caring about people who would prefer we weren’t around. For once in our entire lives we were told we were important; we were told we mattered; we were told we were the main character. We were going to, if not get the girl and save the world, at least get to do something real, something important, something like being the hero.

But that’s over now; we’re back to being wrong and bad and inconvenient thanks to the simple fact of our existence. So it’s time to embrace it. Let’s be a little shit. Let’s be kind of a dick. Let’s have our own agenda, let’s play our cards close to our heartless chest, let’s allow our circle of empathy to contract to ourselves and maybe one more person. That’s where I’m at right now. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

[superheroandcodlover]

So before i finish the first chapter i do want to clear the relationship that each member of the batfamily has with the reader, so here it goes!

Damian

At first you and him were swore enemies and they would fight all the time behind the rest back since you don't want to lose the image of them towards you as a easy and no problematic kid it was the only way to get some attention but after you finally became a vigilante the thing between you two would calm you found his vulnerable side the side that dick loved and you got attached to him you two would fight often still but it wasn't anything compared to before and then his death happened....and that would cause a lot of things affecting YOU

Dick

He knows you but he doesn't care that much since he just assumed that you would always be there no matter what and he barely said hi to you thinking that you were okay you didn't need him right? you have alfred and the rest they sure love you even thought you were a little stubborn and annoying sometimes

Jason

Jason didn't know much about you like the rest but he did care he was the only one that shared more than a cold "how are you?" with you he tried to ask about your day but he was always busy leading to never really talking much with you just every now and then and your conversations were superficial talks about your day but it never was heart to heart conversation he would just nod and share his day too and then go to work with your dad

Bruce

He was never a father to you he cares about you just not deeply it was a bitter sweet thing since you looked so much like your mother who was a thief and a meta and he didn't do his father duties he left all that to alfred since he didn't know how to deal with you and well he was busy being batman and bruce wayne at the same time you sure understand you were a easy kid never doing anything wrong or asking for anything at all

Stephanie Brown

She is polite to you at least the two times you two meet she doesn't know you really well she just knows you exist but she won't think about you like never she prefers to hang out with the others

Cass

She is silent and you are too so it never was meant to work, just as Steph knows you exist but you are not in his top three priorities or five...or ten but you don't care...right? And you were a good kid for what she heard from Alfred you sure understand

Alfred

It is a father and daughter relationship but you have a problem with trying to make people proud because you feel that if you don't they won't love you, and your family does nothing to help you try to overcome that though so you always cause the least problem and it was kinda weird for a ten year old that just wanted to help

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Secret Little Rendezvous - 4

Summary: The aftermath of the breakup. You find someone new, and Harry's...jealous?

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, oral (f recieving), p in v sex, kissing?!

(previous part here) | (series masterlist) | (main masterlist)

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Harry was hurting.

He felt a deep sadness in his chest when he broke it off with you, but it was normal…for the most part. It always happened when he let go of someone, because they were getting too attached. And he never wanted that.

But, this time, the pain didn’t go away after one week.

In fact, it skyrocketed when he saw you with Dylan, his hand on your waist, and his lips on your neck.

Apparently, you both had started dating, told the HR too, and it was the talk of the workplace. 

It was your birthday this time, and the party was at the same bar Dylan had thrown a bash in, and honestly, he was pissed.

And that’s exactly what you wanted. To piss him off.

It was bad enough that he was dragged by Olivia to this, and he had to see you kiss his cheek every now and then. And the worst part was when Dylan wiped some cake on your cheeks playfully, and then licked it right off, which led to a kiss between you two which almost made him puke. It was all tongues and teeth, with obnoxious sounds that echoed through the whole room. 

He threw his drinks on the table and got up, heading out for some fresh air.

He went outside, taking in a deep breath, with air that didn’t come out of Olivia’s mouth.

Yeah, she had been up his ass all night. Not today, not yesterday, since the whole 3 weeks he told her that he had stopped sleeping with you, stopped seeing you.

Of course she was over the moon with that news. 

But Harry wasn’t.

After breaking it off with you, he felt weird. He didn’t have someone to rant about his work to, he lost that one person in his life he could talk to about anything. You would bitch about people at work, and he could tell you anything, any weird thing on his mind.

It was so simple with you. Mostly, he would come over at odd times, because he didn’t feel like staying at his own apartment. He would bring takeout, or you would give him something you had cooked and kept in the fridge for the next day.

While you would be up, microwaving it, a loose t-shirt that covered your bum barely, with panties hiding the rest of it and no bra, he would be sat on the dining table.

He would walk to you, his sock-clad feet echoing on the hardwood floor and cup your breasts from behind, pulling the neck of the shirt off your shoulder.

He would kiss your neck then, his soft lips and slight stubble leaving goosebumps in their wake, while you hummed and tried to pay attention to the job in hand.

There would still be about 5 minutes left on the timer, and he would bet that he could make you cum in less than that.

Of course, you would take the bait.

He would grab your bum, swiftly turning you around and lifting you up, making you sit on the kitchen island. Spreading your legs, his green eyes would find yours, full of mischief and lust. It would be perfect. He would ask you to tell him about your day, pulling your shirt off, and throwing it behind, not caring where it landed.

Next would be your underwear, slightly soaked because his stubble against your skin, anywhere, makes your pussy throb.

His lips would be back on your neck again, kissing and sucking, licking, and then doing it all over again. His finger would find your clit, pinching it, rubbing it, teasing you.

“And then I gave him the file, and he just…oh god!...he–” your words cut off by his tongue licking your nipples, the cold air of the room making them harden–perfect to suck and bite on.

The place between your thighs would be a mess. Soft slick trailing down continuously, his fingers spreading it around and making more of a mess.

The way he would play with your nipples, licking and sucking them…it would make you go wild. His fingers in and out of your tiny, weepy hole, other hands spreading your lips apart and rubbing your clit, the soft bundle of nerves oozing with more and wetness.

Of course you would give in. It would take…4 minutes? Tops. Enough for you to cum around his fingers or tongue, and for him to clean it up right after, the work talk long forgotten.

Dessert before dinner, he would say,.

Of course, he missed it. Missed you. Taking the food out of the oven, you would still be naked, after him begging you to not wear clothes. You would give in shortly, wearing nothing but oven mitts as you brought him the food, while he sat on the dining table, shamelessly ogling your naked form.

You would keep the food on the table, cheeks red from embarrassment as you would try to turn around and run away, but would he let it happen? No.

His hand would sneak around your waist, holding you by your stomach and pulling you to sit on his lap, legs spread so you could fit right in between. He would pull the mitts right off your soft, soft hands and then he would  open his mouth, making you feed him the food too.

The night would end with you sucking him off right after, and then him bending you over right there, his pants pulled down just enough to pull his throbbing dick, pushing it in the heaven, that was your pussy. 

Carrying you to your bed after you were done, he would bring you back to bed, eyes droopy, pussy swollen and sore. He would clean it between your legs, as much as he could, before pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. 

He would leave sometimes after, staying a while to clean up the kitchen because you fed and fucked him.

You were so good to him, so good for him.

And he let that go so easily.

///

You had gotten a promotion at work.Now, you were now two ranks above Harry, and honestly, it was good.

You wouldn’t have to go for any meetings with other departments now, your assistant would do that. No meeting him in the kitchen, because you bought your own coffee machine.

“Make proper notes, send me meeting minutes within half an hour after the meeting finishes. Don’t sleep during, drink coffee if you want to. Don’t make me regret hiring you.”

You had instructed your assistant Leah properly, and she seemed to get used to the way you liked to work.

It seemed as if everything went right in your life after you ended it with Harry everything aligned perfectly.

Until one day.

The Senior Manager of his department had resigned, and till they found a new one, you had to take over both, with no extra pay.

Of course.

And Hary was the one who first came to you, to submit a sales report of the past month. 

“You could leave it with my assistant next time”

“You-you’ve got an assistant?” he asked.

You were in no mood to talk more than 2 sentences with him.

“Yeah. You can go now”

You said to him whilst looking at your computer screen, not even a glance at his face. He got the hint, mumbling a quiet “alright” before walking out and closing the door shut. Maybe he even slammed it a little.

He never came to give you files after that. 

///

Dylan had approached you 2 weeks after you and Harry broke it offf. He always used to send you flowers obnoxiously, and somehow, somehow, he knew that you liked carnations, and nothing stopped him from sending a bouquet every week or so. It was kinda sweet.

One morning, he came to keep the flowers on your desk, and you came in right at that moment, and he asked you out.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he had asked, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes were softened, chest rising and falling steadily. He definitely had a crush on you.

“No”

His eyes lit up at that, and he asked if you were free to have a coffee, go see a movie with him, or wanted to have a few drinks. You agreed on coffee, since you had to work till late. It would keep you awake till late too.

Coffee was good. You two had a lot to talk about, even when you worked at the same place, in the same department.

You were happy to finally move on, and Dylan was just the person to help you do it. He was kind, sweet, funny and charming. 

“And when I told him to go, he stood there like a complete deer in headlight, like!?” 

He started giggling, imagining the exact face you described, and he looked so cute when he smiled.

You couldn't help but feel yourself fall for him. But, you couldn't help but think about Harry. It was hard not to, considering you had just ended things with him recently, and not having him around at all was new. 

But being with Dylan felt different, and it was a good different. 

He made you laugh and smile in a way that Harry mostly never did. You both talked, and that was a rare case with him, if any at all. He talked, and you had to listen. Even if you were just about sex, he treated you like trash. Never bothered or care for you at all.

Dylan was so much more attentive and caring towards you, sending you flowers like a proper lover, even when you both talked rarely, let alone see him. 

As the coffee shop began to close for the night, Dylan offered to walk you home. You accepted, planning on working tomorrow, and grateful for his company. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” 

He had said with a smile, when you were strapping on your heels back, a strand of your hair falling and framing your face.

Your face was oily, all glow gone, and full of sweat. You did not feel beautiful.

As you walked, he took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers, and you couldn't help but feel a spark between you two. It was a simple gesture, but it meant a lot to you. 

When you arrived at your doorstep, he turned to face you.

“Will I see you again?” he asked expectantly, a warm glow spread across his face.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your cheeks. Dylan leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek. It felt different from the kisses you shared with Harry. It was softer and more meaningful.

You said goodbye to him, feeling giddy.

And when you entered your apartment, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the flowers that Dylan had left on your desk that morning. They were the start of something new and special, and you couldn't wait to see where things would go with him.

And it started with a simple bouquet of carnations and some dedication.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! this part is short, but there's going to be one last one! and i know this isn't soo good! but read it, please, and tell me what you think! >.<

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[emmabirb8]

Bill Cipher really is the funkiest little guy, isn't he?

He's a demon. He had parents. He destroyed his home dimension save for one singular atom. He was born different from the rest of his people and could see in 3D. He's a narcissistic maniac. He misses his mommy. He's a cruel, manipulative asshole. He accidentally got a little too attached and fell in love with a human, then had a drunken meltdown when they broke up. He created a throne of frozen human agony and tried to kill two twelve year olds.

He's incredibly lonely.

Personally, my biggest takeaway from The Book of Bill is the confirmation that my suspicions about him are (most likely) correct. Bill Cipher is miserable. He's been miserable since losing his family and entire home dimension, and everything he's done since then is nothing but one big attempt to distract himself from his mistakes.

Like, okay. I get that Bill is a master manipulator. He's a big fat liar, and everything he says and does is meant to be taken with a grain of salt. He wants readers and viewers to feel bad for him. He wants us to sympathize and woobify and get attached so he can use that to his advantage. BUT ALSO, I think The Book of Bill still sheds light on the fact that he IS broken deep down.

Everything that we know of Bill is almost entirely a meticulously constructed facade. He's a faker. He's all smoke and mirrors. He suffered a massive trauma (whether it happened on purpose or by accident is up for debate since he is nothing if not a horrendously unreliable narrator), and he had to find some way to cope. So he decided to live in denial. Denial of his failures, his true feelings, and, ultimately, everything that he is. He described the "entity" that destroyed his home dimension as a "monster," and, knowing what we know, that's what he believes about himself. He told Ford the answer of who that entity was would "eat [him] alive" and, in actuality, I think that was more of a thinly veiled admission that his deep-seated guilt over what he did eats him alive. Bill buried that guilt, all those negative feelings, all his mistakes deep, DEEP down, and then decided that if he was a monster, he might as well be a damn fierce one.

Bill became great at manipulation because that was the key to making his whole scheme work -- if he could control what everyone thought of him, make people fear him, bend them to his will and squeeze whatever he can out of them, he could be the meanest, nastiest, most cunning monster to ever exist, and he could keep living in denial. They can't make fun of you for your differences, for being weird (something I suspect happened to him in his home dimension) if you're the KING of weird and can kill with the snap of your fingers. If they fear you, they won't look too closely, into the tiny minuscule cracks in your facade, and see the painful truth.

Bill leaned hard into his role as Nightmare Demon to fool himself into believing all of that too.

But like I said, he's lonely. He has no one (besides his "henchmaniacs," but they're no substitute for real connection). I find it SO interesting how he speaks to Ford in The Book of Bill. "We both know you don't really want to be left alone. Admit it, you LOVE how important I make you feel. . . . [N]obody else really gets you, do they? Without me, you'll always feel unseen, surrounded by dolts who don't recognize your true potential. You've always felt alone in a crowd, haven't you? . . . you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?" -- I think he's projecting. Those are all things that are true about himself and his connection to Ford, but he's pinning it on Ford because he can't bring himself to face it head on.

Bill Cipher is a villain. He's evil. He's a demon. He really did ALL OF THAT.

But he is also a pathetic dorky sopping wet meow meow of a character who is constantly desperately trying to run away from himself.

And now, in the Theraprism, he has no access to his usual coping mechanisms. He has no choice but to finally face reality and figure out a way to do what he's been avoiding doing for literal millennia: to just be.