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occamstfs · 6 months

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Diet Diaries

Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam

Monday March 21st-

Andy:

I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~

Steve:

Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.

Tuesday March 22nd-

Andy:

My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.

Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~

Steve:

Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.

Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.

Wednesday March 23rd-

Andrew:

Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!

Steven:

That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.

Thursday March 24th-

Andrew:

Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!

OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!

Steven:

God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.

It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.

Friday March 25th-

Steven:

Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.

I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I’ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..

Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~

Andrew:

Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.

Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)

Saturday March 26th-

Stevie:

Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-

Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!

I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-

And Drew:

Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.

Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.

Sunday March 27th-

Stevie:

Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~

Drew:

My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #twinkification #jockification #straight to gay

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punkshort · 7 months

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somewhere to run | 12. the trial pt.1

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Madeline preps you for the first day of the trial and shares a surprise witness being called to Patrick's defense, and Patrick requests to speak to you unexpectedly.

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (MDNI 18+), phone sex, m and f masturbation, dirty talk, mother issues (could be perceived as parental emotional abuse, and probably is), possessive!joel, recounting of previous DV and SA

WC: 7.2K

A/N: If anything in this chapter jumps out as you like 'I don't think that's how the law works', just move past it. I had Google and a dream.

Series Masterlist

The flickering florescent lights from the grocery store were starting to give you a headache as you slowly made your way up and down the aisles, occasionally stopping to grab a bag of chips or some mac and cheese. It was late. The store was quiet. You were supposed to be buying things to keep in your hotel room when you got to Austin, but you could hardly focus. You had the weekend to pack, buy supplies, and check into your room before meeting with Madeline on Monday. She was planning on using most of the day to prepare you for the trial, which was scheduled to start first thing Tuesday morning, and your nerves were a mess. And to make matters worse, Joel wouldn't be able to get to Austin until the morning of the trial.

The one silver lining was your divorce. Madeline felt confident after speaking to his lawyer that Patrick would be signing the papers this week. The cynical part of you wondered if there was a catch because Patrick was never one to take things lying down, but you tried to push it out of your mind. Instead, you focused on the variety of microwavable popcorn in front of you. Butter, lightly salted, movie theater... would you even notice much of a difference? You stepped forward to grab the first box you saw when another person unexpectedly walked right into you. You had been so lost in your own thoughts, you didn't even hear someone else coming down the aisle.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you began. When you looked up to meet their eyes, the polite smile you had forced across your face immediately fell.

"Nikki, hi," you said, taking a small step back towards your cart. "My fault, I wasn't paying attention."

She tossed you a thin smile and not so subtly eyed you up and down.

"Haven't seen you in a while. Read anything good recently?" she asked icily, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"Not really. I haven't had much time," you told her, averting your gaze down the empty aisle.

"Oh, that's right. I heard you're getting a divorce," she said with a little pout, and you nodded as the heat began to creep up your chest. "Gotta make sure all those papers are signed before you go jumping into someone else's bed, right?"

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, lips parting in surprise. You thought she would have been a little more subtle than that.

"I hope you at least made sure he was worth it before leaving your husband for him, because woman to woman, I gotta warn you... it's nothing to write home about," she told you with a wink. You frowned and took another step back.

"I'm not leaving my husband because of Joel-"

"Oh, no, of course not!" she said cheerily.

"N-no, really, nothing's going on-"

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," she whispered, giving you one more fake smile before turning on her heel and waltzing down the aisle, leaving you in shock.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered to yourself as you absentmindedly rubbed your eyes. Angrily, you reached out and snatched the box of popcorn before turning your cart in the opposite direction.

You hated the idea of someone in this small town having it out for you. She had been swaying the entire female population to turn on you just because she went on a couple dates with Joel and she figured out he had feelings for you, which was hardly your fault. But you thanked your lucky stars she didn't seem to know just how close you and Joel really were, because if she did, there was no doubt in your mind she would have spread that news like wildfire.

Impulsivity won and you swung your cart down the candy aisle, throwing far too many items into your basket.

To hell with Nikki. She had no idea what you were going through and you didn't have time for her high-school bullshit, so you forced yourself to move past it. Besides, you had much more important things to worry about. Like if you should buy Reese's or Snickers.

"I hate all my clothes."

"C'mon, they can't be that bad," Joel's voice filtered through your phone. You tapped the speakerphone button and dropped it onto your bed in order to free up both your hands, then held up two ugly blouses against your chest while you looked in the mirror.

"They really are," you told him, scrunching up your nose. "But Madeline told me if I wore stuff like this, it would look more sympathetic to a jury. Like I'm some poor, modest housewife in need of saving," you said with a roll of your eyes.

"Well, if Maddy told you to wear somethin' specific, you should listen to her. She knows what she's doin'. I've known her a long time, this isn't her first rodeo."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you grumbled, picking up a couple of skirts that, in your opinion, were far too long and didn't make you feel very confident.

"You look beautiful in anything," he said, his voice dropping an octave lower.

"Thanks, but you're biased," you teased, and you heard a soft chuckle float through the speaker.

"Yeah, maybe," he agreed. There was a small pause as you continued to sift through your clothes, then he asked, "are you tryin' anythin' on right now?"

"No, once at the store was plenty," you huffed, then began folding the skirts up to place them in the bottom of your suitcase.

There was another pause before he spoke again.

"Then what are you wearin'?"

Your hands stilled and you sucked in a breath when you finally realized what he had been hinting at the past few minutes. Glancing down, you grimaced at your favorite pair of stained sweatpants and a tank top that had fraying straps, but you refused to throw it away because it made you feel skinny.

"A tank top," you finally answered, leaving out the part about your ratty old sweatpants.

"Mm, the white one?"

"Yes," you replied, your pulse already thrumming steadily in your throat at the line of questioning.

"Wish I was there with you," he said, his voice low just in case Sarah could hear from her bedroom. "I can see right through that top, drives me fuckin' crazy."

Glancing in the mirror, you realized he was right. You could see the outline of your nipples clear as day in the right lighting.

"Joel, is this a good idea?" you asked, but found yourself flopping down on your bed anyway next to your phone, your fingers dancing at your waistband.

"You're stressed, right?" he asked, his voice a little breathless now and you knew he must have been stroking himself. You've done this dance too many times.

"Yes," you whispered.

"Lemme help you relax, then."

You chewed on your lower lip as you stared up at your ceiling. You knew doing this with him complicated things and you were supposed to be able to take the stand in a few days and honestly say you weren't in a relationship with Joel, but the lines were too blurred and at this point, you had no idea how you would answer that question.

Then again, what difference would one more time make?

"Okay."

"Good girl," he murmured, and you felt yourself flutter at the praise. "Where are you right now?"

"I'm laying in bed," you told him, closing your eyes so you could focus just on his voice.

"And are you touchin' yourself?"

"No," you said, taking a deep breath. "But I want to." You heard him utter a soft groan.

"Go ahead. Just one finger and I want you to tell me how wet you are."

Slipping your hand under your waistband, you did as you were told, choosing the tip of your middle finger to slide through your folds and prod gently at your entrance.

"So wet," you murmured, then teased yourself again, collecting the arousal pooling there. "All wet because of you, Joel," you added breathily.

"Fuck, I wish I was there," he whispered again, and you slowly pushed your middle finger inside with a moan.

"W-what would you do?" you stammered as you felt the tension begin to build, a warm heat sparking low in your belly.

"I'd taste you first," he said lowly. "Only got to do it once, been dreamin' of doin' it again. You taste so fuckin' good, d'ya know that?" His accent deepened the more aroused he became, and it made your heart skip a beat.

"You're really good at it," you mumbled into the phone, your finger curling inside you, that one spot just out of reach.

"Tell me how much you liked it," he rasped, and a little groan slipped past your lips, your finger still pumping in and out.

"Loved it," you moaned, and you heard his heavy breathing now as he listened to you intently. "F-felt so good. God, that tongue... my thighs burned the next day from your beard. Felt it all night at work... thought about you s-so much. Fuck, Joel, I need more," you whined, your back arching pathetically.

"Add another finger and play with your clit, baby," he whispered, and you thought you could hear him fucking his fist on the other end, but his heavy pants drowned out the noise. You did as he said, gasping in relief at the extra stimulation while your legs began to shake.

"Joel-" you whimpered, but he cut you off.

"When this is all over, I'm gonna wake you up every mornin' with my mouth between your legs," he said with a grunt. "Would'ya like that? Hm? You want my tongue inside that tight little pussy? Want me to suck on your clit til you can't remember your name?"

"Oh, fuck, Joel, I-I think I'm gonna come," you cried out softly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your finger rubbed fast little circles over your clit, your hips rocking against the heel of your hand as you chased your release.

"Go ahead, lemme hear you. Say my name, baby," he panted, his voice cracking, and you knew he was close. "Tell me - shit - tell me I'm the only man who's ever made you come."

And you did just that.

You fell over the edge, his name tumbling from your mouth over and over as you soaked your own hand, and once you got your bearings, you moaned about how good he made you feel, how no one else could ever compare, how you couldn't wait until he was in your bed again because your own fingers no longer satisfied you now that you've had him. You kept talking until you heard a sharp intake of breath and a low, muffled groan on the other end of the line, leaving each of you quietly panting for air.

"Feel better?" he asked after a few minutes, and even though he couldn't see you, you smirked.

"Yes," you whispered. You could hear him shifting around in his bed, his sheets bunching up and the springs on his mattress squeaked. "I miss you," you added sadly, thinking about the one night you got to sleep in his bed. How comfortable you felt. How at ease it made you feel, and he wasn't even in the bed with you. Just being around him was all it took.

"Me, too. We're so close, baby. Just a few more days. A week, tops."

His words instilled a newfound vigor in you. The fear and anxiety you felt about the trial temporarily disappeared and instead, you felt powerful. In charge. Confident. And eager to take your life back.

Monday

"Have you heard from any of the other women?" you asked Madeline hopefully, and she gave you a quick shake of her head.

"Not yet. I'm sorry," she replied, knowing you were all crossing your fingers that some of the women Joel talked to in Philadelphia would change their minds and come forward, but as hard as he tried to convince them, they were all too scared to say something, putting you back at square one. He had high hopes for one girl in particular, Nina, but so far she had refused to answer his or Madeline's calls and time was running out. "Don't worry, hun. We still have all the evidence on our side. We have the medical records, I can prove years of abuse with that and testimony from the people you put us in contact with. I am confident we will win, regardless of the other victims," she told you, looking you dead in the eye, and you believed her.

"Okay," you replied, taking a deep breath and nodding your head. "And again, I'm sorry I couldn't get anywhere with my mom. Do you think we'll still do okay without her?"

Madeline sat back in her chair and slid her glasses off, holding them gently in her hands while giving you a look across her desk that made your stomach twist.

She had bad news.

"We would do just fine without her, but I found out this morning that she was subpoenaed by the defense."

You stared at her, not quite understanding what you were hearing.

"What does that mean?" you finally asked, and although you had an idea, you needed her to say it.

"She agreed to speak on Patrick's behalf."

Tears sprung up in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away, refusing to allow your mother to cause you any more pain. Before you could say anything, Madeline spoke up again.

"Don't let it upset you. They might think they're making a power move, but I'll destroy her on the stand, mark my words. It will only help our case and paint the picture of a lifetime of abuse," she told you, putting her glasses back on before looking back down at the file in front of her. You hadn't ever considered your relationship with your mother as abusive before. You just assumed most girls had problems with their mothers growing up. But if she was willing to help your husband over her own daughter, essentially supporting everything Patrick has done to you, then 'abusive' was really the only word you could use at that point to describe your relationship.

"Okay, what else," you asked hurriedly, looking down at your hands folded on your lap.

"Well since we are already on the shitty news portion of the day, I do have one more thing I need to mention, and before I tell you, just know you can do absolutely whatever you want, okay? Do not feel pressured to go through with it-"

"Just say it," you told her, and she took a brief pause before continuing.

"Patrick asked to speak to you before the trial. He's holding the divorce papers as a hostage. Says he will sign them if you speak to him."

Your eyes shot up to meet hers in shock.

That was not something you were expecting to hear.

"W-why would he want to talk to me?" you stammered, and you could feel your heart beginning to pound louder in your chest, the fear and anxiety quickly taking hold yet again, just like it always did when it came to Patrick.

"My guess? He probably wants to convince you to drop the charges in exchange for a divorce. And that is something we are not going to do, understand me?" Madeline said, narrowing her eyes at you. "If my hunch is correct, he's scared. He knows he's going to lose and he is desperate. We do not need him to play nice here. I can get a judge to grant an annulment if he won't sign, it will just prolong everything a little more, but the end result will be the same."

The idea of your divorce taking even longer made your blood boil. You wanted to be with Joel. You wanted this to be over. It was only supposed to be a few more days... a week, tops.

Madeline could tell you were spiraling because she put her pen down and stood up from her chair.

"You don't have to talk to him. You are under no obligation to hear him out. We can just go through with everything the way we planned-"

"I'll talk to him," you said quietly.

"I have to give you my honest opinion here. I don't think it's a good idea."

"I'm not going to drop the charges, but... I don't know. Maybe I can convince him this is over. And if not, I'll just get up and leave," you told her firmly, and she examined you carefully before sighing.

"Alright. I'll contact his attorney and set something up in the morning. If you change your mind, you let me know. Night or day, five minutes before you walk into that room, it doesn't matter, okay? You don't have to do this."

"I know," you said, "I want to."

Madeline spent the rest of the day briefing you on what to expect for the trial. After opening statements, Madeline would argue your case with the evidence she collected and the witnesses she subpoenaed, then Patrick's lawyer would have the opportunity to cross examine and afterwards, it would be their turn to defend Patrick with their own witnesses before closing statements and deliberation. Madeline guessed the whole thing would take two or three days at the most, and that gave you some relief. No matter what happened, this would be over by the end of the week.

"I'll call you to the stand last," Madeline said. "It's best if your testimony is freshest for the jury, especially right before the defense states their case."

"Okay. And what do I do when I'm up there? Should I look at the jury or the judge, or just you?"

"Look wherever you feel comfortable, but don't offer any extra information outside of the question being asked. We'll rehearse the questions I'm going to ask before you leave today, and when it comes time for the defense to cross examine, give as little information as possible. Yes or no answers. And they'll try to get you upset - don't let them. That's important, okay?"

"Yes," you said with a nod. "I understand."

After you ran through the questions, Madeline sent you back to your hotel room with the list for you to review and practice on your own, but your head was pounding by the end of the day. Your eyes burned and your mind was racing and all you wanted to do was sleep, but your body wouldn't let you. You ended up pacing around your room and trying not to let your anxiety about seeing Patrick in the morning torment you. You had just found a mindless cooking competition show to put on to help distract you when your phone pinged next to you on the nightstand.

Joel: All ready for tomorrow?

You: I think so, but I'm nervous. Can't sleep.

Pausing for a moment, you added another text.

You: I'm meeting with Patrick in the morning before it starts.

It took less than two minutes for your phone to ring.

"What d'you mean? Why're you meetin' with him?" Joel's voice asked aggressively the moment you answered the call.

"He's holding out signing the papers until he speaks to me," you explained. "He says he'll sign them if I talk to him. I figured there's no harm, he can't hurt me-"

"No harm?!" Joel exclaimed, and you quickly stopped talking. "All he does is harm! The fuck are you thinkin'?" he asked, sounding less angry and more upset now.

"Madeline said it'll take longer to get a divorce if he refuses to sign. I just want this over with, Joel!" you said, your voice beginning to break. "I don't want to wait a few more weeks or months. I'm fucking done! And if listening to whatever he has to say for twenty minutes gets him to sign the goddamn papers, then I'll do it! Because I can't do this anymore!" you sobbed into the phone, the tears you fought to hold back all day finally coming to the surface.

"Okay, okay, calm down," he said soothingly, and you took a few shaky breaths in. He waited until your breathing steadied before speaking again. "What time are you supposed to see him?"

"8:30," you said, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Alright, I'll be there," he said. "Just in case. I wanna be there."

"You can't come in the room with me, Joel."

"You can't go in alone," he argued.

"Madeline said the conference room they booked has a door with a window. You can both watch from the hall."

He grumbled to himself on the other end and you waited, chewing on your lower lip nervously, for him to say something.

"One wrong move and I'm puttin' his head through the fuckin' wall," he muttered.

"That wouldn't exactly help your lawsuit," you reminded him.

"You let me worry 'bout that," he said, and you yawned. He must have heard you because his voice softened. "You gotta get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"I know," you replied, and although you felt like you wouldn't get much restful sleep, your eyelids were still getting heavy.

"I'll be there bright and early, alright? And I'm stayin' til it's over."

"What about Sarah?" you asked sleepily.

"She's stayin' at a friend's house. Couldn't be more excited about it. Practically kickin' me out," he said with a chuckle.

You laughed as you stared blankly at the TV, watching some poor girl cry when her crème brûlée burnt. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Joel bit his tongue on the other end of the call, holding back the words he really wanted to say but knew it wasn't the right time. Instead, he said "good night, baby. See you in the mornin'."

Tuesday

As expected, you tossed and turned all night. It was clear as day when you caught your reflection in the mirror and winced at what you saw. The bags under your bloodshot eyes wouldn't be tamed by the concealer Maria bought you so long ago, but you tried your best, anyway. After picking out the least ugly shirt and skirt combination, you made sure your hair looked decent before taking a deep breath and stepping out the door of your hotel room.

The first step towards your freedom.

You were proud of yourself. You had actually managed to not let the nerves get to you until you entered the courthouse and saw Madeline tapping away on her phone, wearing a dark blue pantsuit and hair pulled back in a simple bun, with a black leather suitcase hung over her shoulder. She looked up when she heard you approach, giving your outfit a nod of approval before enveloping you in a quick hug.

"You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," you said, giving her a nervous smile. Your hands were beginning to shake as she walked you down a secluded hallway towards the conference room she had booked for your conversation with Patrick. You could feel your chest tighten with every step you took, but when you turned the corner and saw Joel leaning up against the wall in a brown suit with another man you didn't recognize but assumed was Patrick's lawyer, you instantly felt relief. When his eyes locked with yours and he gave you a small smile, you felt even calmer.

You could do this.

"Last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?" Madeline said next to you. Glancing through the window in the door, you saw Patrick sitting at the table in a rumpled jumpsuit, his handcuffed arms resting on the table as he stared down as his fingernails. You nodded and looked at Patrick's lawyer.

"Does he have the divorce papers, or do you?"

The lawyer gave you a polite smile before replying "I do, miss."

You nodded before taking a deep breath, and glancing at Joel one more time to remind yourself why you were doing this, you twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room.

Patrick lifted his head up when you walked in and gave you half a smile, but you just shut the door behind you and walked to the other end of the table, as far away from him as you possibly could get, and sat down.

He stared down the table at you, giving you his most charming persona, the side he always brought out when he knew he had gone too far and wanted to make amends. You folded your hands calmly on the table and tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to speak. Minutes ticked by, inching closer and closer to your trial time as you waited, refusing to be the one who bent first.

"New clothes?" he finally asked, and you quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah, looks like you got some new clothes, too."

You patted yourself on the back for the jab, but you didn't show a hint of the smugness you were feeling when you saw a quick scowl flit across his face.

"Alright," he said, leaning back in his hair and lifting his hands up in mock defeat. "You win."

"What did I win?" you said with a frown.

"This," he said, motioning between the two of you. "You want outta this so badly, fine. I'll sign the papers. I'll leave you alone."

"Great," you said, trying to keep the tremble from your voice.

"You gotta drop these charges, though, baby. This shit could get me killed, you know that?"

"Don't call me baby."

He sat forward suddenly, making you flinch. "What the hell do you want me to call you, then?"

You took a steadying breath and glanced at the door, catching Joel's eye before looking back at Patrick.

"I'm not dropping the charges."

He shrugged and dropped his hands loudly on the table. "Then I ain't signing the papers."

You looked at Joel again. His lips were pressed in a thin line as he watched the two of you and you wondered if he could hear anything through the door.

"What about the charges against Joel? Would you let it go and sign if I dropped the charges?" you asked quietly, and that caught Patrick's interest. He smirked and folded his hands on the table.

"Oh, no. Can't do that. I got your boyfriend right where I want him. Got a rockstar witness that'll help me take him for all he's got. Hope that kid of his is smart, she's gonna need to get a scholarship for college. Daddy ain't gonna have two dimes to rub together when I'm done with him."

Your jaw clenched and your nostrils flared as you stared at Patrick across the table, doing your best to rein in your anger and not say something stupid.

"You don't have shit against him," you spat, and true to form, he couldn't help himself. He just had to show his hand.

"Bullshit. Got that girl he was on a date with that night at the bar willing to testify he had it out for me, that he was obsessed with you and would do anything to get rid of me," he sneered, looking quite pleased with himself.

You bit down on the inside of your cheek. You knew Nikki was pissed, but this was going too far.

"Then it doesn't sound like we have anything else to talk about," you said, standing up. You made your way to the door, passing by his chair, when he spoke once again.

"You're not gonna win, you know. They don't put cops in jail. Juries feel too guilty, knowing how dangerous it is."

You looked down at him, finally seeing him for who he really was: a pathetic, desperate, sad excuse for a man. No matter how long it took for Madeline to finalize your divorce, you would do it the right way. You've suffered for years, a few more months wouldn't kill you.

And then you would be free.

"Hope you're willing to bet your life on that," you said before turning on your heel and swinging open the door.

Joel was at your side in an instant, following you and Madeline down the corridor towards the courtroom.

"Do I even want to ask?" Madeline said over her shoulder.

"You were right. He wanted me to drop the charges in exchange for signing the papers," you told her, then glanced up at Joel by your side. "I said no. We're doing this the right way."

"Good," they both said at the same time. Your hand itched to reach out and hold his, but you knew you couldn't, so you settled for gently brushing your knuckles against the back of his hand and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

When you entered the courtroom, which was much smaller than you expected, your eyes immediately drifted around to the scattered few people seated in the spectator chairs. You had completely forgotten about your mother, and seeing her sitting there, on the other side of the room as your cousin, with her hair pulled back tightly and wearing a navy blue dress you hadn't seen before, sent you into shock. Fortunately, she stared straight ahead, avoiding your penetrating gaze, so you looked away and made eye contact with your cousin, who gave you a tight smile and a thumbs up.

Then you heard Joel suck in air next to you and you glanced up at him, following his gaze to Michelle, who was seated a few rows behind the plaintiff's table.

"What's she doing here?" you tried to mutter under your breath.

"Don't know," he replied quietly, turning his focus away from her.

Madeline swung open the doors for you to step through and take a seat behind the desk, where she joined you and began to open up her briefcase and spread out all her files on the table. Joel slid into the row of chairs right behind you, and if you took a deep breath, you could smell him. Gone was the putrid cologne, the only thing he ever had in common with Patrick besides his profession. All that you could smell was him. His natural, masculine scent mixed with a subtle hint of his deodorant and some hair product. A smell you had grown to love and crave.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed you had less than five minutes before the trial began. More people began to stream in. Witnesses on both sides, some you recognized and some you didn't. A few cops that you knew were close with Patrick on the force sat together in full regalia, no doubt trying to win favor with the jury with their choice in clothes, just like you.

You had a chance to look at Joel just one more time, one fleeting smile and wink from him before the doors swung open. Patrick and his lawyer marched up to their table, both of them avoiding looking in your direction as they got settled in just in time for the bailiff to announce for the room to rise, and moments later the judge and jury walked in.

You were holding up better than you expected. All of these months of preparation finally paid off. You were more confident after each witness Madeline brought up to the stand. She started with a couple old co-workers of yours, who didn't have much to say other than they had asked you a few times about your bruises and you had made up excuses, but they always suspected something else was going on. Patrick's lawyer stood up and objected when they hinted at your husband being the cause, and the judge agreed. Madeline backed off her line of questioning and once she was satisfied, announced no further questions before sitting down. Patrick's lawyer - Beckett Kennedy, you learned - chose not to question them further.

Next was your cousin, Mary, who testified she knew Patrick was hurting you, but as Beckett would clarify for the jury later under cross examination, had no proof other than your word. She explained how you continually went to her for help, that she helped you get on birth control without Patrick's knowledge, and how you confided in her the night before you fled to Texas.

The next witness in your defense was Carol, the doctor Joel had brought you to after Patrick's most recent assault.

That was when things got rocky.

There were blown up images of your injuries being projected in front of the entire room, including some that blurred out your privates, but you still found to be absolutely humiliating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying not to show too much emotion as Carol explained in great detail all of the injuries you had sustained not only that day, but historically as well. Madeline called into evidence your old medical reports from the hospitals back in Philadelphia, and Carol gave her expert opinion on each one, explaining in layman's terms what each and every note meant so that the jury could understand.

Every single cut, bruise, laceration, and broken bone was discussed as you stared down at your hands in your lap, your cheeks burning. You heard Joel shift behind you in his seat and you tried to take a deep breath, tried to catch his scent to calm you, but you were too far away or maybe it wasn't strong enough and the urge to turn around and bury your face in his neck for comfort was overwhelming.

Finally, Madeline finished up with Carol, thanking her for her time before sitting down next to you. She gave you a wink, trying to reassure you everything was going smoothly, and you gave her a small smile in return.

Beckett then got up to cross examine Carol. He tried to poke holes in her medical expertise, tried to question her knowledge about sexual assault and if she could truly be considered an expert in that particular field of study when she was just a general practitioner but Carol sat tall and told the court she was an OBGYN for ten years and that she very much had a vast amount of knowledge in the area of female anatomy.

After Beckett insultingly tried to suggest pap smears and the occasional birth could hardly make Carol an expert in trauma, she was excused.

"We have time for one more witness, Maddy," Judge Dean, an older man with bright blue eyes and absolutely no hair on his head, announced before she stood up and took a deep breath.

"The prosecution calls Sheriff Joel Miller to the stand."

After Joel raised his right hand and swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, he sat down and adjusted his blazer, then glanced at Madeline expectantly. She gave him a warm smile and started slow. She thanked him for traveling all the way to Austin to give his testimony, asked him to verify how long he had been town sheriff, and asked him to give an approximate idea of how many incidents he had encountered in his tenure for domestic or sexual abuse.

"So it sounds like you're no stranger to this type of crime."

"Unfortunately, no," he replied.

"The plaintiff didn't call the police when she was assaulted, is that correct?" she asked.

"That's correct."

"Can you explain how you came to find out she was hurt?"

Joel took a deep breath and glanced quickly at you before looking back at Madeline. "She works as a waitress at the diner in town. See her almost every day for lunch. One day she called in sick, I had a hunch somethin' was wrong and her apartment's on the way back to work, so I stopped to do a wellness check on her."

"What caused you to have a hunch, sheriff?"

"The day before, I saw the plaintiff and defendant at a coffee shop. I witnessed the defendant put his hands on the plaintiff in an aggressive manner and it raised some red flags," he explained calmly.

"And when you went to her apartment to do a wellness check, what did you see?" Madeline asked, looking up from her legal pad with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. You dropped your gaze to your lap. You could remember that day vividly. The shame and embarrassment and the pain all came rushing back, and you tried to blink the tears away as you focused on Joel's answer.

"It was clear the plaintiff had been attacked," he began, and only because you knew him so well, you could hear the slight strain in his voice. "She had a gash on her forehead, a split lip, a bruise on her cheek and scratches all down her neck."

Madeline hummed as she picked up the remote for the projector and flipped through the images that Carol had gone over. She stopped on a picture of your face with wounds that matched Joel's description and you noticed out of the corner of your eye a few jurors shake their heads sadly.

"Are these images the injuries you're describing, sheriff?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"After you performed the wellness check, what happened?" Madeline asked, setting down the remote but leaving the picture of your beat up face on the monitor. You knew she was doing it to garner sympathy and help paint the picture Joel was describing, but it made your stomach turn.

"I encouraged the plaintiff to seek medical treatment and press charges."

"And that is when the plaintiff visited Dr. Carol Parker, correct?"

"That's correct."

"I noticed at the same time, the defendant was in holding, is that true?" Madeline asked, and Joel nodded.

"Yes."

"Why was he arrested, sheriff?"

"He was drunk and disorderly in public the night before, so I took him in to sleep it off."

"Were those the only charges against him?" she asked.

"No. He also punched me when I was attempting to make the arrest, so he was also charged with assaulting a police officer."

"And when the plaintiff came to the station to give her statement, that was when the additional charges were filed, correct?" Madeline asked, picking up the remote to switch to a slide of the long list of charges against Patrick.

"Correct."

"I also see here a restraining order was filed to protect the plaintiff."

"Correct."

"And did the defendant obey the restraining order?"

"No, he did not," Joel said, straightening up in his seat. "He showed up at the plaintiff's place of employment and tried to intimidate her. Threatened her." You closed your eyes for a moment, remembering that night when Tommy and Thor stood up for you. How scared you were, how hopeless you felt and then Joel arrived, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"And the police were called then?"

"Yes. Maria Miller, one of the owners of the diner, called down to the station and spoke with my deputy, who then called me on his way down to the diner and I met up with him there."

"To arrest the defendant for violating the restraining order?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And did you?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk and crossing her ankles in front of her.

"Not that evening, no. He couldn't be found," Joel said. You stiffened in your seat, bracing for what was coming next.

"Can you tell me what happened after you arrived at the diner?"

Joel swallowed and glanced briefly in your direction again before answering. "I took the plaintiff back to her apartment so she could get some things and stay elsewhere for the night. We were worried the defendant would try to harm her and thought it best she stay away from her residence until he was apprehended," he said, pausing for a moment. "But when we got there, it was clear the defendant had already broken in-"

"Objection," Beckett announced suddenly.

"Sustained."

"Allow me to rephrase," Madeline said, pushing off her desk. "What did you witness when you arrived back at the plaintiff's apartment?"

"It appeared the place had been broken into," Joel began. "Her belongings were destroyed. There were holes in the drywall, dish-ware broken, graffiti on the walls, and what smelled like urine in her bed."

Madeline used her remote to flip to images of your apartment from that night, and when the one of your bathroom came onto the screen, you heard a low murmur from the people behind you.

"According to my notes, you sent out a pair of officers to process the scene the next morning, along with a forensic analyst, is that correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I would like to draw your attention to exhibit 6C, the forensics report," Madeline said, clicking the remote to another slide where a document appeared with the label Exhibit 6C at the bottom. "What can you tell me about this report, sheriff?"

"Objection. The witness can hardly be considered a forensics expert, your honor," Beckett said, standing up.

"I believe he's proven he has many years of experience and can answer basic questions," Madeline argued. "I will wait until tomorrow to question the forensics analyst in more detail, but I believe the sheriff has the ability to answer one simple question today."

The judge looked back and forth between Madeline and Beckett as he considered his answer.

"Be careful, counselor," he warned Madeline, then turned to Joel. "Go ahead."

"The DNA taken from the mattress matched the sample we took from the defendant at the station, so we brought additional charges against him for breaking and entering once he was arrested."

"And when did you finally arrest him, sheriff?"

"The following day."

"Can you please describe for the court how and where you found the defendant?" Madeline asked, leaning against the desk again. You nervously twisted your fingers in your lap as you listened.

"We found him in a crack house with some locals and a couple prostitutes."

"Did he resist arrest?"

"No, this time he was too high and passed out-"

"Objection!" Beckett yelled. "Speculation, your honor."

"Sustained," the judge said, frowning at Joel, but Joel just kept his gaze trained on Madeline.

"No further questions, your honor," Madeline said, turning on her heel to sit back down next to you.

"Your witness," the judge said with a nod in Beckett's direction, and a smug smile spread across his face before he stood up. He paced in front of the bench for a few moments, trying to build up the anticipation, and it was working. Your heart was thundering in your chest as you watched him walk slowly back and forth, but Joel appeared to be perfectly calm as he waited for his first question.

When he stopped pacing and you saw the look on Beckett's face, you knew exactly what was coming. It was the moment he had been waiting for. The bombshell. Their only chance at swaying the jury in their favor thus far, and he was ready to strike.

"Sheriff, have you ever had sex with the plaintiff?"

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates. Tumblr won't let me add anyone else to the taglist ❤️

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog @mrsparknuts @missladym1981 @spacedoutdaydreamer@prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts @picketniffler @pedroslittlelady @noisynightmarepoetry @ameagrice@stevie75 @sunbellylou @guelyury

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

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soaps-mohawk · 2 months

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So...

I've been doing some thinking about a couple of things.

This blog has grown considerably, even from its start and I appreciate each and every one of you so much. Your support never ceases to amaze me and I owe all of you a lot for giving me something to focus on this year instead of spiraling into insanity.

But

Things have gotten a tad bit overwhelming recently between trying to run the blog and trying to write. I find myself either having to ignore the blog to get writing done, or sacrifice writing time and energy to spend time on the blog and keep up with all the replies/reblogs/asks etc. Definitely not complaining, you all never cease to amaze me.

But, I am just one person and my brain only has so much power right now. So, I'm planning to take some (more) time off each week right now while I focus on writing and planning since we're getting into some serious plot stuff soon. So I'm planning to be on the blog three days a week for a while: Saturday, Sunday, and Thursday. That gives me some time to get some writing done as well as some time to rest my brain.

Saturday and Sunday of course to post the chapter and respond to replies and reblogs so I don't get super behind. Monday I'll have some asks queued up as well as maybe a few reblogs. I'll still use the queue Tuesday and Wednesday for reblogs/asks with spoilers as usual. Thursday I'll be on the blog answering asks from Monday - Wednesday as well as things I get that day. I'll queue up a few things for Friday since that day gives me a little break between to prepare for the weekend and posting the chapter.

I'll probably add more days as time goes on. You can still send in asks on the days I'm gone, but just know I won't see them or respond to them until later in the week. I already get behind by a couple days on asks anyway so that's not much of a change.

Don't feel bad for sending them either, I love getting all these asks, I just tend to get behind on days I spend more time writing.

The second order of business

has to do with my taglist. Most of you probably haven't noticed (which I don't blame you lol) but my taglist has gotten very big. Very, very big. It's just over 230 people right now, and I'm sure there will be others asking to join. It's quite time consuming to do all of these tags for every chapter (especially since we can't tag in blocks anymore) so I've been doing some thinking into how I can make it easier for me, and for you.

I know there's at least one blog I've heard of, though I'm sure there's more, that have made side blogs that they have people follow and turn on notifications for and just make a post on that blog when they post a chapter or fic, etc. I've been considering doing that since the taglist is a lot of work and time.

I've also seen blogs that have side blogs that just post chapters/fics and nothing else. I know quite a few of you only follow for the fic, so if anyone is interested, I could put together a side blog like that as well that you can follow and get notifications from instead of having to follow this blog and having to go through the probably 100 posts that I make a day 😂 (at least it feels that way for me)

Having a separate blog for the taglist too would allow me to schedule posts so I can have them come out a bit earlier than I get up for those of you across the world who stay up to read and have to wait for me to post in the morning when I get up (or later like today because I slept in). Of course Ao3 will get posted later because I can't schedule posts there, but at least for Tumblr I can have things post earlier.

So let me know what you think about the taglist side blog and the possible just chapters/fics side blog. Feel free to send in asks (anonymously or not) with your opinion. I might not answer them all (not tonight because my brain is fried and honestly i'm not sure if this is even comprehensible English) but I will at least use them to make the decision (or make a post with all of them and answer it as just one).

#more than likely i'll be doing the taglist blog just for my own sanity #and wrists #I'd tag everyone on the taglist in a post on that blog just so everyone sees it #also will still use the taglist for a chapter or two so everyone can have a chance to follow there #also don't feel bad for asking to be on the taglist #it's just gotten very long #and scheduling posts is so nice #it was very handy last year for Kinktober #anyway let me know what you think

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emeraldoodles · 6 months

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The Master Post from Serizawa Week 2024

I had lots of fun participating! Mine are little snapshots from the week, linking one day to the next.

If you would like more story read below.

Thanks @ygodmyy20 & @acermp100 for letting me bound ideas off you the whole week. Also, @yu-artist for sharing the Seriweek prompts!

Monday, March 25th - Friends

Serizawa made going back to school look so fun Minegishi decided to join. Sometimes Dimple/Yoshioka likes to stop by and say hello. Today he was a distraction to Serizawa, so he had trouble paying attention and listening to the homework assignment.

Tuesday, March 26th - School

Poor Serizawa, having to stay up late to finish an assignment. At least he's not alone. The cat's name is Gizmo! Thanks @acermp100 for the cat name suggestion. @secretagent9 I really love the idea of a Gundam name, but not being a fan I didn't know what to choose.

Wednesday, March 27th - Outfit

Reigen and Serizawa were hired to exorcise mischievous spirits that kept harassing the maids at a cafe. Serizawa was very tired from yesterday's school assignment and not on his A-game today.

Reigen volunteered to lure out the ghost by wearing a maid's outfit, but maybe he just wanted to wear it. Serizawa is wearing his cute butler outfit! The maids were very excited to dress him up, not so much Reigen

Reigen: Those brats! Wont even help me tie my apron. Grumble. *struggles to reach behind*

Serizawa: Here, let me. *zips up and hooks Reigen's dress and ties the apron*

Reigen: *many hand gestures* Competition, that's what is is Serizawa! I'm competition because of how good I look.

Serizawa: *chuckles* You do look good sir. Very pretty, very cute.

Reigen: R-really? *blush* I-I er, I mean of course! Now! Let's get to work!

Poor Reigen, he got ice water dumped on him several times that day. He wasn't feel great before the exorcism, but was wiped out by the end the assignment.

Thursday, March 28th - Food

Mrs. Serizawa is teaching Kastuya how to cook, so he can stop living off instant noodles. Today is a hearty beef & leak stew!

Mrs. Serizawa: Remember, the leaks need to be thoroughly washed.

Kastuya: Nods, Nods!

Mrs. Serizawa: Also, the more passion and enjoyment you put into your cooking will reflect in the final dish. So, relax and take it slow and your love will shine through.

Serizawa is learning how to make tonjiru soup. He wants to make it for someone "special" this week.

Friday, March 29th - Spring

Dimple: I don't get it. If you're worried about Reigen go check up on him.

Serizawa: I don't want to intrude on his privacy.

Dimple: Ugh, you two are impossible.

It was an unusual day. Reigen didn't show up for work and Serizawa just got a message from him saying "I n68 sick".

Saturday, March 30th - Comfort/Bravery

Serizawa: Reigen, please eat a little more.

Reigen: No, I feel so sick.

Serizawa: But you've not eaten since Thursday. Here, let me get you just some broth.

Reigen: Kastuya...

Serizawa: Y-Yes?

Reigen: I.... I... Bucket. I need the bucket.

Reigen proceeded to dry heave into the bucket while saliva and tears fell in. Serizawa rubbed his back while he continued to convulse for several minutes.

Sunday, March 31st - Birthday

Serizawa went over to check on Reigen, who surprised him by throwing a little birthday celebration. It was just the two of them, but Reigen originally had planned something bigger. Luckily, the present, a multiplayer game, arrived on time, so they could play together.

Reigen was still sick, and drugged up, and making bad decisions. But Serizawa didn't mind. A love confession from Reigen made this the best birthday.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #serizawaweek2024 #Serizawa #kastuya #reigen arataka #serirei #digital watercolor #sketch #Minegishi #Toshiki #Ekubo #Dimple #Yoshioka #cat #sick fic #maid

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postersofleon · 8 months

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SEVEN

Leon had issues and you understood them. Tied in a world where he couldn't even trust his own government, where bioweapons are a common thing and mistrust is common. Breaking up with an alcoholic with the best option to have. However, when time passes, Chris decides to bring you to help with Leon's current crisis. When he sees you, he is ready to give endless promises now. Seven days to win you back.

notes: fem!reader x leon. leon is drunk, sad, angsty, and needy for reader, codependency relationship; chris is a sweetheart. he wants to help both leon and reader. I don't like this :( idk why. i ramble too much. EDIT! future chapters will have smut

tuesday: loving you

wednesday, thursday. friday, saturday, sunday

monday

taglist: @scarlettsbullsh

There was small, uncomfortable silence as you were driven to the small vacation place. Rebecca wore a small smile, but Chris could tell that you were uneasy. But you didn't want to give Chris a chance to even speak. What happened in China is still seen, not in complete detail, and not even the same overwhelming emotions. Yet it lingered.

Sure, everything is forgiven because everything has to during a mission, and even you have forgiven Leon. Yet you couldn't forget.

You loved Leon. With your entire body, but he wasn't the man you met back in 1999. Sure, the bitterness of Raccoon City seemed to always mask the smell of the alcohol. Then, being obligated to work for the government. This was stupid. You knew. You knew his issues. You knew why you broke up with him.

It's unfortunate. You were forced to love two different men. A man who wanted to help people and a man who wanted to get rid of the bad. Something in Spain began the trail, and two or so years formed the path. His disappointment of the government increased over and over, but why... why was he willing to point a gun to you and Chris to protect a woman who made their life's worse?-

You shook your head. No. No, don't be stupid.

Your hand began to tremble.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca asked. You simply nodded your head. Your fingers rubbed your gun hand, the knuckles, and soon your palm. A small scar in your hand interrupting the normal lines of your hand.

The car stopped.

When you look at the place... it was like going back to the old house that you once shared with Leon. Two unhealthy people trying to find peace. One found a bottle, and the other found denial. It was truly the saddest thing to remember, but the good things came rushing in. When you and Leon drank from his flask as you two laid on the bed naked. Alcohol made your bolder while Leon looser.

Walking through a couple of halls, Rebecca turned to see you and rubbed your arm, "He misses you." She promised. But you didn't need her promise when all your phone did was buzz over and over with messages belonging to Leon. Slowly and steady, you saw Leon. Nothing really changed from him. He still had his dark brown hair, which made it look worse with his grease. Your heart clenched.

"Leon," You couldn't control your mouth, "Leon..."

Leon turned to see who said his name. Your habits are trying to get better while his are getting worse. At least he wasn't drunk, drunk- he was better than the other days.

He walked towards you and hugged your body tightly. The overwhelming stench of alcohol burned your nose. All the old conversations you had of his issue bloomed again. Your hands trembled as you hugged him back. Leon kissed your neck over and over, dragging you away from Rebecca and Chris.

"I needed you. I'm sorry." Leon muttered softly.

Nothing changed. Nothing at all.

And that was the problem.

Your hands cupped his face, his small stubble of beard barely even growing into a proper beard. "How long?" You asked.

"Three days." Leon responded quickly. His blue eyes met yours, "I... I try." You even recalled the next words as you two reply together, "But sleeping is easier."

Leon turned away, his cheeks had splotches of red skin; he looked unwell. "Don't tell that... this has been every day." Your fingers traced his face lines. The ones in his cheeks, his brows when he furrowed them.

Leon sighed, "Yeah." He hugged you tightly. Little by little, he finally noticed Chris and Rebecca approaching them. He nuzzled his face between your breasts to use as cover. He was already going to start to be pissy. Your hands rubbed his back gently attempting to calm him down.

"I thought you didn't talk anymore." Chris grabbed himself a chair to sit on.

"We do. By text." You explained with a meek voice. Sure, you avoid his: "I want to fuck you so bad." Texts but not the simple hi's or when he comes to bother you.

But never these touches. Though, after dating for thirteen years, you were use to him.

Rebecca sighed softly, "C'mon," She smiled again, "Let's leave them to talk." Leon groaned weakly as he let you go. Rebecca and you left the room. You closed your eyes tightly.

Little by little tears escaped your eyes, "You... you see why we broke up?" You crotched down to your feet, feeling horrible like all those years ago. "A unhealthy relationship," Rebecca whispered softly. She crotched down beside you. "Rebecca, I still love him. I..." You cleaned away your tears. "No matter what I did helped, he didn't get better. I leave, and he is worst-"

"That's not your fault." Rebecca assured you from your codependency with Leon. The trauma of the two you made you stick against bad and good. You would've been with him still if it weren't for Chris.

Leon saw you be taken away from his arms. His hand itched to grab his flask once you were taken away. "Enough, Leon." Chris put his hand out, hoping Leon would put his metal flask in his hand.

Leon didn't so Chris yanked it from his hand.

"Leon, I swear," He put the flask on one of his many pockets, "Leon, I need you to listen."

Leon licked his molars, "I'm listening, Chris. Don't have to repeat it over and over." He leaned on his chair, his eyes kept glancing at the door where Rebecca took you away. Chris exhaled deeply, "A mission-" He began.

Leon groaned weakly, "I'm not going to a stupid mission. I'm on vacation." He grabbed the empty glass ready to pour more, but Chris stopped him again.

"A mission," Chris said more firmly, "Isn't a romantic getaway. It's a job. Our job." Chris made sure to keep eye contact. Leon smirked, "I'm with someone. Don't ask me out."

Chris fought the urge to roll his eyes, "Don't start-" He put his hands in front of him, "You and her shouldn't have been placed in missions so early." Chris wanted to be patient with Leon. "What you two suffered, back in Raccoon City. It was very irresponsible to make you feel you needed to save her."

Leon's face tighten. He could already smell Chris's bullshit, "Listen, I asked for her, nobody made me get her." Leon remembered the first time he saw you. You were one of the old military people of Umbrella and got send there among others who. You were like him. A rookie who was just wanted to help people, but the infected ruined your plans.

He wanted you. You understood the world like he did.

That's why you two needed to be together in every mission until two years came along. When you broke up with him, his life changed for the worst, but it didn't seem you two were actually broken up. He always told you where he was. He told you about nightmares.

"But you two ended up hurting yourselves. Jill and I never had this issue-"

Leon rolled his eyes, "I love her." He muttered softly. Every damn day, Leon saw your eyes as the gun was raised against Chris and you. Chris forgave him faster, but you...

Leon's eyes closed, "Every day I think of my bullshit," Leon opened his eyes and looked at his fingerless gloves, "I just want her back."

Chris exhaled deeply, "You need to stop drinking then." He sighed softly. This job made you an addict to whatever gave your comfort. For you and Leon, you two had each other, but Leon held his need to save people and alcohol.

It was fucked. It wasn't fair for either of you.

"She'll think forever that you prefer your dumb flask."

His throat nearly choked on his own spit, Leon's head hung low as a heavy sigh escaped his lips. He loved you so much it hurt. Little by little, tears escaped his eyes.

Slowly dripping down his face, Leon felt even more sick of himself. With his arms around your waist, you gave him a breath of fresh air- you gave him life.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #vendetta leon

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dreambunnynotes · 10 months

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weekly note: december 10th

hello angels! i hope you're all taking good care of yourselves and having a lovely day. i'm excited for the week ahead, i'm going to try to go easy on myself this week while still making progress in order to build up better discipline! here are my goals for the week.

appearance and physical health:

find a way to romanticize an early sleep schedule to trick my brain into actually wanting to go to bed, oof. i'm going to try to make a post on this in case it helps anyone else out!

go to the gym at least once, and fight the perfectionist urge that says "if i miss it on monday or tuesday i shouldn't go at all" - i'll go when i have the energy and ability to!

drink way more water; girl the amount of crying i did this week it feels like i have to drink an ocean a day to catch up 😭 going to try to keep a water bottle by my desk and keep track of my water intake somehow.

studying and career:

figure out what i need to do to apply to the program and make a plan, including looking into bank loans and financial planning

work on sheet music arrangement for current song on guitar

get comfortable with all major scales, focusing on accuracy

look into what my favourite musicians studied so that i can make a more specific practice routine and remove barriers to practicing

mental and emotional health:

listen to what my heart needs! this past week i had some incredibly hard conversations that were very triggering and emotionally draining, and i can feel my little heart and mind are needing extra emotional rest right now. i am going to make sure i am connecting with people who bring me joy and not forcing myself to talk to people i don't want to talk to. i'm going to channel the sweet and caring energy of my departed best friend who taught me how to listen to my boundaries, and try to honour myself the way he did.

if i am feeling up to it, i am going to visit one of my friends who is in town for a show who i haven't seen in forever!

lets have a great week, friends!

with love, bunny❤︎

#becoming that girl #dream girl #dream life #girlblogging #glow up #it girl #productivity #that girl #clean girl #pink pilates girl #self improvement #wonyoungism #self care #self love

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year

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Busker Eddie who always sets up right outside The Harrington and Son Law Firm because the overhang of the tall building gives him the best acoustics, and it’s right across from the subway line.

Sure he has to deal with Mr. Harrington calling the police on him for soliciting every time he shows up. But the tips he makes are worth it. Plus, he’s managed to win over the chief of police Hopper, who never writes Eddie up. He thinks it’s because Hopper has some kind of feud with Harrington, but he doesn’t ask. It’s better not to get involved.

Eddie’s busking his heart out one day. Giving his all to a small group of tourists gathered around him when a Young Suit marches over to him. Fights his way through the tourists, gets his hands on Eddie’s shirt, and yanks him away from the crowd.

The Young Suit is dressed like all the other suits who sneer at Eddie as they head into the building every afternoon. But this Young Suit doesn't look anything like the rest of them. His hair is fluffy and styled to perfection, nothing like the clean-shaven and buzzed heads Eddie's used to. His walk is a little less polished, dress shoes a size too big on his feet, Eddie guesses. But it's his eyes that really give him away. They're not dark and dead like every other suit who sold their soul to the devil. There's a glimmer of life behind this guy's eyes, enough that Eddie doesn't immediately start his rant about how lawyers are the devil reincarnated.

He still gives him shit though.

"What the fuck man?"

"Look, I don't want to do this," Young Suit says, running a hand through his hair. "But my dad's ready to throw the fax machine out the window if you don't leave so can you please find somewhere else to busk?"

Dad, huh?

Eddie can work with that.

"Ah, so you're the son in Harrington and Son's Law Firm," Eddie says, a salacious grin appearing on his face. "Sorry, Harrington Jr., but no can do. This is my spot. Tell daddy I have the license to prove it."

Harrington Jr. sighs dramatically before his hands land on his hips. He looks like an exasperated soccer mom.

A cute exasperated soccer mom.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Could you at least change the days you're here then?" Harrington Jr. asks. "My asshole dad never works on Mondays and Tuesdays. If you busk those days, I'll make sure no one calls the cops on you."

"Like I said, no can do," Eddie says, casually. "I make most of my rent money on Thursdays and Fridays. Daddy dearest will have to deal with it."

"Don't do it for him, do it for me."

"And why would I do anything for you?" Eddie asks, caught off guard for the first time in a long time.

Harrington Jr. gets a wicked look in his eyes. Lips twitching upward in a smirk that has Eddie's knees seconds away from buckling.

"Because I actually like your voice and want to hear more of it without my dad screaming and threatening violence in the background," he says, laying the compliment on thick. "I can also make it worth your while."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"I have a friend who works at the club on 9th. One phone call and you can be performing on a real stage for people who don't smell like stale subway air. You're too good to be performing on street corners."

The offer is tempting, it is. But Eddie can hear his uncle's nagging voice in the back of his head. The one that tells him not to take offers from strangers, especially not pretty ones who can't be trusted.

"Tell you what, Harrington Jr." Eddie flirts. "I'll think about it, while I finish my set. Till then, I'm not leaving. "

"Better keep watch for flying fax machines then," Harrington Jr. sighs again, finally dropping his hands from his hips. He turns to go back inside but stops abruptly, digging in the pockets of his pants before pulling a thick wallet out. He leafs through it before tossing an impressive stack of bills in Eddie's open guitar case.

Eddie waits for him to say something else, but he never does. Just stuffs the wallet back in his pocket and drags himself back inside the building.

When Eddie's sure Harrington Jr. is back inside, he kneels down to inspect his earnings. He nearly passes out when he spots three crisp hundred dollars bills lying under a business card that reads:

Steve Harrington Associate Lawyer Harrington and Son Law Firm 646-442-8422

Well played, Eddie thinks as he pockets the business card with Steve's number. Well played, indeed.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #busker eddie #lawyer steve #are those tags? they are now lol #dani writes

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 6 months

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I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: v.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

"Sister School Exchange?"

"Yeah, it's this thing we do each year with the other of Jujutsu Tech in Kyoto," you lean back against Chinatsu's bed as your non-sorcerer friends look at your curiously.

It's a peaceful Sunday like any other.

Tooru is slouched awkwardly but comfortably at Chinatsu's desk playing Zelda, meanwhile Chinatsu has claimed her bed as her own while she braids her hair. Hard as these days are to come by now that you live in a school remote in some mountains on the countryside-esque outskirts of Tokyo, you relish when you have them. It's a touch of comfort and familiarity. "It's like a sports thing. Loser goes to the winner's school the following year. Last year we won so those suckers are coming to Tokyo."

"Who went where last year?" Chinatsu continues braiding her bright brown hair.

"We went to Kyoto," you expertly leave out the fact you didn't actually get to go. Nor the fact that you wouldn't be participating once again. Your friends don't need to know all that. Stupid special grade technicalities, you want to complain. There's no point, however, with the company you've surrounded yourself with. You're still more than a bit miffed at your inability to attend last year's Exchange.

"Is it an open event where anyone can go?" At your sympathetic grimace, Tooru scowls. "Damn rich people," he swears, rolling his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. His blue-black bangs are pulled back by a hairclip, fully displaying his newfound grumpiness. The idea of sports always kicks Tooru's competitive spirit into overdrive being a member of Tsubame High's rock climbing club. He tried getting you to join your middle school's team once. As it turns out, your grip strength was ass. And it still is if I'm being honest with myself. "Well kick their asses and send those losers back to Kyoto in shambles," Tooru demands as he returns to the visuals of Majora's Mask.

Oh if only. Well, you're certain that victory will be spelled out for your school once again if Gojou and Suguru have anything to say about it. You just know you won't actually play any role in it.

"I'll be sure to let you guys know how it goes."

ー

It's a toss up for you on which days you prefer at Jujutsu Tech. Some days it's Monday, Wednesday, Friday and other times you really appreciate a good Tuesday, Thursday Saturday schedule. It depends on how tired your are... and how much procrastinating you've done on your assignments.

After watching X-Men back in '01, maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise that Jujutsu Tech had regular classes but you still remember your surprise during your first week of first year. Apparently, you actually need to at least know the essential basics society deemed important. As such, Jujutsu Tech operated on a block schedule where certain days detailed which day you'd be learning standard course work or anything related to jujutsu.

Monday, Wednesday and Friday were dedicated to normalcy with classes like Math, Japanese, English and Japanese History. Those were handled by the assistants who actually had teaching licenses. Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday were all jujutsu-based. History of Jujutsu, Application of Cursed Techniques and Exorcism and Physical Education. (Physical Education being a Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday class was the most surprising for you. But once you found out PE included sparring and mock battles against curses, you understood the picture.) These classes were handled by the sorcerers that did the heavier curse-exorcising work in this field with four teachers assigned a specific grade of students to handle.

With Nanami Kento and Haibara Yuu joining as first years, Fujioka still had her hands full with preparing the first years for the rest of their jujutsu careers.

Being in charge of the second years, Yaga didn't have much to do in terms of teaching late last year after Okita died. So the muscle head seemed pretty excited to go from 0 students to 4.

Yamada's graduated but with Utahime and Mei Mei being the new fourth years, Koizumi still has work to do.

The only teacher doing nothing now until next year rolled around at the Tokyo branch of Jujutsu Tech is Matsuno. If none of you are dead by the time third year rolls around, she'll have 4 students bothering her then.

This particular Saturday, classes have been halved for the day. Thanks again, irregular scheduling. And thanks again, Kyoto Tech. It's not the first day of it, that won't be until Monday. Still, today is the day the Kyoto Tech students are arriving and that is important enough that you don't need a full day of schooling.

You recall the names of the people of interest Utahime mentioned during spring break and try imagining faces to the names while Gojou loudly groans at Shoko's newest terrible attempt at explaining how reversed curse technique works. It doesn't help that it looks like smoke is exiting Haibara's brain in his own confusion.

"I think Shoko's right, Gojou," you grin widely at the snow-haired boy's head swivel in your direction. Even with the sunglasses, you can tell he's irritated. "You just don't have the common sense for it."

"Oh like you're able to understand her gibberish," Gojou's tongue clicks.

You're absolutely not. "Hyoo hyoi, right, Shoko?"

"Hyoo hyoi!" Shoko chirps back deviously. "[First] is getting it."

"See?" You gesture at the girl. A crumpled, empty soda can gets tossed your way and your hands fly out immediately to create a peach-colored shield of energy. "Sore loser!"

"Walking copyright infringement," you hate how that comment actually gets a choked laugh of you while you tell him your technique is called Rejection based on the Phoenix Wright franchise. So what if your abilities are reminiscent of a certain manga character with burnt orange hair and a pair of blue flower pins, Gojou should leave you be. You don't control the way in which jujutsu techniques are passed out.

"Why do I have to be stuck with the generation of teachers that don't know how to do reversed curse technique," he grumbles. "Why does the one person I know who can do it have the explanation abilities of a 5 year old? Who the hell did I piss off in a past life for this?"

Shoko tries to pull out a cigarette but it's snatched out of her hands by Suguru in equal parts concern and his own frustration at her less-than-stellar explanations. "I'm sure the list is long so thanks for spreading your bad luck to me too, Satoru," Gojou sticks out his tongue and brandishes his middle finger brazenly, Suguru flips him the bird right back. Yours and Haibara's giggles fill the air while Nanami, arguably the most sane of the six of you, sighs in annoyance.

It really is unfortunate for everyone that Shoko's pure instincts surrounding her abilities can't be translated into comprehensible words.

You learned the year prior in Application of Cursed Techniques and Exorcism I that it was really only relatively recently the jujutsu schools were established and passing down general knowledge outside of family became a thing. Unfortunately, the time in which these schools were created, information on reversed cursed technique was unable to be secured. So until Shoko is able to explain in full how she does it ー or the rest of you are able to start using it on your own ー Jujutsu Tech won't be receiving any updates to the cursed technique application curriculum.

"Nanami," Gojou points at the blond who already looks like he regrets even stepping one foot out of his dorm today. "Learn how to use RCT and explain it to me like a good underclassman!"

"I'd prefer to have a responsible upperclassman who learns on his own and teaches me instead," came the instant rebuttal from the practical sorcerer-in-training.

"Where's the fun in tradition?"

One last sigh of amusement later, you look at your hands thoughtfully. Rejection. A tiny shield stands tall in front your palm. But if we're talking about missing a few puzzle pieces, I'm assed out too. You sigh as Rejection dissipates. Why can't you have six little faerie creatures to help you create a variety of shields too? When it comes to you second years, it's easy explaining the roles you have based on ability alone.

You're the tank, Shoko's the healer and Getou and Gojou are both different flavors of DPS. That's not necessarily a problem, you know. Even the basics of cursed energy usage can exorcise a curse, but when it comes down to it ー you are your partner are both supports and having a bit of an offensive kick would come in handy at some point in the future.

So you decided at the beginning of second year that if you already were teetering the line of coincidentally ripping off Inoue Orihime's technique, why not go for the full thing and try mimicking the rest too? Your first assignment, creating a shield that sends back the damage and finally start stepping in the direction of acquiring an offensive move set.

It's just been a bit of a work-in-progress developing the technique in secret mostly because you have no idea what you're doing beyond the general principle of what you want to do. Dissonance and Disconnect will be your masterpieces ー whenever you manage to them figure out.

There's a tap on your shoulder, "[First]," Shoko taps you once again. "Help me carry back drinks from the vending machine?"

"Yeah, I got you," you'll figure out your masterpieces later then.

Together the two of you made your way to the nearest vending machine to the training grounds. It's not terribly far but it isn't particularly close either. You grumbled over this fact more than enough during your first year. You understand the lack of students means a lack of vending machines, but it would still be nice if this particular vending machine was close enough you didn't have to walk twenty minutes to get to it. "Do you think we could move it ourselves, actually?"

"Do you really feel like carrying that thing down a flight of stairs?"

"Never mind," you groan.

It's part way through your quest to quench everyone else's thirst when you see him. A boy donned in navy blue and gray traditional clothes and dirty blond hair with dark tips. He's certainly no student of Tokyo Tech, you perk up in realization. The boy is cute, you think. "You're one of the Kyoto students, right?" You wave politely as he glances at you. "We can help you if you're lost."

Amber eyes look you up and down before the boy turns to Shoko alone, "When I heard you were enrolling I was surprised, Ieiri," you can't stop your head from tilting, wide eyes blinking in surprise. "Considering all you're good for is healing your peers, you'd think your family wouldn't invest in your education. Especially considering

"Hey," you glare, sticking a friend out in front of your friend. "The only ones who gets to mess with one of us, is us." It's a privilege, not a right. "And all things considered, since Shoko's able to do shit you clearly can't, you shouldn't be running your mouth."

Amber eyes point your way again as the boy actually addresses you, "you must be the foreigner, your accent is very apparent." You have an accent, what of it? You learned Japanese from the ground and you were proud of the progress. No one can take away from you, least of all this guy. "If anyone shouldn't be speaking here, it's the one from a country so backwater you had to come to a foreign land to learn anything about sorcery."

"Naoya," Shoko finally speaks, mouth pulled into a frown. So this is the face you can put with the name Zenin Naoya. "How horrible to see you too. If you're looking to talk to Gojou and Getou, they're in that direction." The brunette thumbs behind herself in the direction you both came from. "Otherwise, you're a long ways off from the rooms the Kyoto students are supposed to be staying in."

You aren't sure what the boy has to be smirking about and you wonder how much trouble you'd get in if you tried punching him. "I know where I'm heading," the first year states, crossing his arms. "I wanted to see the Six Eyes of the Gojou Clan myself. But it'll be something to see the other special-grade as well."

"Yeah well get a good look at the dudes who are going to kick your-"

"Naoya," a deep voice interjects growing tensions. For once, something akin to a scowl dons Naoya's face as his expression shifts to annoyance. "You said you wouldn't antagonize the Tokyo students if I let you off on your own."

"That wasn't antagonizing, that was small talk," his upperclassman's face tells you he doesn't believe that one bit.

He's tall, albeit not as tall as Gojou or Suguru, with black hair with a dyed streak of green in his bangs."Sorry about our first year," the Kyoto senior bows with an exasperated sigh. You don't envy what he has to deal with. If Naoya had been included in the batch of first years Tokyo Tech received, you're sure you would have transferred schools. Or maybe you would have stayed out of spite. "I'll deal with him."

"Please see that you do," your cheek muscles ache from how forcefully you are smiling. What the actual hell is wrong with that guy? You side-eye your partner as the Kyoto first year skulks off, likely ignoring the scolding his upperclassman is giving him. "Why doesn't he have a hate club?"

"Believe it or not, that's not even as bad as he gets. That was actually Naoya at his best," Shoko has to be joking. This is another one of her dry humor jokes. Unfortunately, there's not even a wink of playfulness in her eyes. If that's this guy's best, I don't want to see what his worst is. "The rest of us were in a secret Hope Naoya Gets Homeschooled Alliance. Sadly all our efforts have clearly been for naught."

"Yeah, you guys really should have tried harder," you aren't sure there is any word in any language that could best describe him besides 'worst' and 'brat. And you know what? He isn't even that cute! The culmination of terrible traits in asshole shoujosei love interests created a terrible creature. I'll never say Gojou's a waste of a pretty face ever again.

Even at Gojou's absolute worse, he's never held a candle to the display of disrespect you bore witness to. "I really need us to win this year. I am so serious if we lose to that pompous asshole, I'll quit being a sorcerer because I refuse to accept defeat from him. Matter of fact," you cross your arms obstinately. "I know we're winning this year and I can't wait to see his walk of shame out of Tokyo. It isn't enough for him to lose, he has to be utterly humiliated."

"I hope he fights Getou," your rant certainly appeals to the brunette who nods in agreement. "It would have been better if Getou was a girl," despite the disappointment that is your reality, Shoko's eyes dance with mischief. "But either way, he'll hate losing to someone who comes from a non-sorcerer family the most." At your look, Shoko blinks in realization. "Right, you wouldn't know. The Zenin's have a saying that basically boils down to the only sorcerer's worth their salt are from the Zenin family, but a non-sorcerer is basically less than human."

Every time you learn something new about the Amazing Sexists, the less you like what you hear. "Geez that family sounds like a real piece of work," you stick out your tongue in annoyance. "I want him to fight Gojou," you nod to yourself in satisfaction. "Their families hate each other, right? So if he loses to him I just know his parents will be pissed. 'How dare you lose to the son of the Gojou family! You're no son of ours! Leave this house!' or something like that."

Shoko's bob dances as she shakes her head, "doubt it. When you're that strong, winning is guaranteed. They'd be disappointed but not surprised, if anything."

"Why 'cause Gojou's a special-grade?" You purse your lips in your prodding. "Because if that's what we're going off of Suguru's got the win in the bag too. Or is it the Gojou comes from sorcerer family thing?"

"Partly the latter," Shoko admits. "But I told you before already. Gojou's pretty much a legend to sorcerers," yes, it is hard to forget when everyone talked about it. "They'd expect a loss if Naoya had to fight him. Maybe if he had the Ten Shadows they'd think he had a fighting chance, but I doubt he does because it would be talked about all over if he inherited it."

Has Gojou always been so... Your mind struggles for the right word. It dawns on you then that Naoya had referred to him as the Six Eyes instead of Gojou's family or given name. Objectified? It's an unpleasant feeling to admit to yourself that he is. Even slightly more so as you try to recall if you've done so yourself and how much you may if you did. You're sure you have. You must have. What else were the bulk of your rants with Utahime were about if Gojou ever organically came up in conversation?

"He's still just some guy," you wonder if your words are more meant to self-soothe than a solid argument. "He thinks eating pancakes is substantial for dinner. I don't know how he's never had a cavity."

"A guy who'll be in the future Jujutsu Tech textbooks and we won't even be footnotes," Shoko sighs at her joke of self-deprecation. "But yeah, it's too bad they won't have anything in there about how he eats his weight in junk food." She pulls out a piece of paper where she has everyone else's desired drinks scrawled on. "Anyway, let's finish getting the drinks."

ー

This isn't the first time you've come out to the training grounds past curfew, but you would have head in by now.

Perhaps it's your irritation at Naoya that has you practicing longer than usual. Or perhaps it's your own inability to advance your technique and the frustration beginning to boil over. It's likely a mixture of both. It's well-past dinner and the sun has set for the evening, your only light source being a lantern you took out of the storage shed.

If there's another thing this school needs, it is stadium lights for the training grounds.

"Uwah," You look behind you, noticing the approaching footsteps and you spot a familiar head of messy white hair. "I would have thought you were sneaking off somewhere more exciting."

"How'd you know I was sneaking out?"

"Was up playing Momotetsu a few times and I saw your cursed energy moving around," Gojou shrugs. It truly is hard to hide anything from those eyes. You wondered in the past if his ocular abilities were passive or something that needed to be activated. When you saw his eyes glowing in the past, you came to the conclusion it's a mixture of both depending on what he needed to see. His sunglasses are on but in your dark surroundings, you don't see any signs of azure glow. Seeing cursed energy must be one of the passives. "Finally got curious to see where you heading off the past couple weeks. Didn't expect it to be here."

"Well now you know," you rest a hand on your hip. "Go back to playing Momotetsu."

Gojou dropped a hand above his hidden eyes as if blocking out the sun, "Nah, I'm looking for Orihime's faeries now, they're out here somewhere," haha very funny, Gojou hasn't said that one before. Ever. His grin widens as he takes in the unamused roll of your eyes. "What are you doing back out here? I could hear your big feet clunking around even with my walkman on."

"If you must know," you ignore his last jab petulantly as he comes closer. "I'm trying to evolve how Rejection works by ripping off Orihime's moves. Sadly these faeries aren't worth shit, they're stingy and only work for her." That earns a snicker from your new audience and that manages to make you perk up. "Jokes aside though, I'm pretty sure I can make Rejection be a return-to-sender and even get it to cut things in half if I try hard enough. So I've been trying it out."

"Must suck not having a users manual," Gojou whistles.

You huff in agreement, kicking a nearby pebble. "Who are you telling?" That's the trial-and-error of coming from non-sorcerer families. Everything you learn about your cursed technique is through figuring it out on your own. Weird glowing orb thing? It's was just Suguru doing as dumb kids do when he decided to swallow it and see what would happen. You didn't even start using Rejection until you were 10, well past the usual date of ability manifestation, all because of an accident. "But if I look at it from a different angle, this just means there's no pre-existing guide to tell me Rejection can't do this or that. I test out those limits myself and be the one who makes the guide."

And if you ever had kids, they'd be the beneficiaries. If you ever lived long enough to get to the point you'd start considering them. You shake head, physically tossing the thoughts out of your brain. "Anyways, like I said, I'm going all in on the copyright infringement. What Kubo doesn't know won't hurt him," you chuckle to yourself. "So I'm starting out with trying to get Rejection to return attack energy back at specific triggers."

Gojou looks between you and the noticeably empty space in front of you. You can already tell what your classmate is thinking ー must be pretty difficult when there's literally nothing to shoot anything at what you put up. "... and you're doing that how?"

You puff your cheeks sheepishly, glancing pointedly in a different direction, "Casper's been a great assistant to me lately."

"So all you've been doing is wasting cursed energy and hoping something happens?"

"On the bright side, I've gotten really good at putting my technique up with various poses over the past couple weeks," you offer weakly with a cough. So far you've mastered the Jotaro Kujo point, the Okuyasu The Hand swipe and the Kakyoin Emerald Splash.

That comment gets you a light swat to the back of your head and you move to elbow him back, but you only meet the infinity between you both. "Just get to posing out your shields and I'll blast cursed energy at it," Gojou flicks his fingers back in a shooing motion as he walks a couple meters away from you. Before you can even attempt to dissuade him, he's already in position. "Tell Casper to take a hike for a while. You don't pay him enough to do overtime."

"You'll help me?" You've never trained personally with Gojou. Likely because neither of you felt the need. You didn't like him and you likely weren't someone worth training with from his perspective. You'd sooner expect Hell to freeze over. It must have frozen over then.

"I don't know how you're planning on making a shield that shoots back attacks without actually having something shot at it," he shrugs in the dim light of the lantern. "And I'm already out here."

"You know what," you rest your hands on your hips. "Dinner's on me tonight, what do you want? This is gonna work up an appetite for me and you eat like a horse anyway."

"Seriously?"

"Just don't say pancakes. Or waffles," you rack your brain for different loopholes. "Actually, I'm putting in stipulations ー there needs to be a protein and a vegetable, bare minimum. I'm making sure you eat actual food tonight." You're pretty sure there's salmon leftover from the other night from when Nanami cooked. And I could sauté the spinach so he doesn't complain much. "Salmon, sauteed spinach and something else. I don't want this to take forever so I guess I'll just go with rice since it's already late." Rice it'll be then. "This is your reward for helping me!"

There's a decent-sized blast of energy that hurls in your direction. "Um, excuse me, I thought I was supposed to pick what we eat?"

"Rejection!" True to your word, you point as if you're the JoJo of Stardust Crusaders. There's no energy that shoots back in Gojou's direction, but you'll figure out a pattern before the night is over. Maybe I should try something where Rejection can pocket that energy and then it gets shot back? "I changed my mind," you snort. "You're eating what I make and you'll like it. I don't need you dying of a sugar coma before the Exchange Event properly begins."

"Oh come on, it's a treat for helping you out, shouldn't I call the shots here?" The pouting begins much to your lack of surprise. "What sort of reward dinner is this? If this is how you treat them, I can see why the faeries didn't want to help you out!"

"Do you want a free dinner?" When there's no slick comment shot your way, you consider this a victory. "Beat Zenin Naoya's ass to kingdom come and maybe I'll consider making something you want without any sort of fine print. Do we got ourselves a deal?"

There's a smile in Gojou's voice. A smug smile, but it is in his tone nonetheless while he speaks, "I'd do that even if there wasn't a free meal on the line, you know."

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra

And we're back to our usually scheduled programming. I update once per week for four weeks, two week hiatus, then back to consistent updates. At least, that's what I decided on other platforms to give myself a break here and there.

Admittedly the Orihime copyright infringement joke is one of the few jokes I've been waiting to make. Glad this moment is finally here.

You also finally get to meet your buddies from middle school, Tooru and Chinatsu. There's another buddy too but he's a special case who won't be showing up for some chapters. I honestly have an entire mini TV series worth of shenanigans concerning this friend group but y'all will just have the tip of the iceberg. Hopefully when that gets touched on in a future chapter, you guys will find it as amusing as I do. Like I made it a point to mention, the Reader really wants to hold onto what she can of her non-sorcerer life. She's "*Miles Morales voice* I can do both" about it

Anyways, you and Gojou are bonding some more and it doesn't relate to food. This is growth. Reblogs and Likes appreciated.

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #getou x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #i cherish you halcyon days

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