#i'll either write while hating it forever

[alexiroflife]

jjk men reactions to you saying they're annoying you first the first time...

gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

💫💫💫

satoru gojo: you're overstimulated. your reports from last week's missions are due tomorrow, and you had forgotten about them because you had to help Nanami with training a few of the first years over the past couple days. while you despise the thought of having to sit down and write those reports, you have no choice but to knock them all out tonight.

tonight, however, satoru happens to want to come over to keep you company. you comply, but something in the back of your head tells you that it's not the best idea: especially since satoru is infamous for posing as a distraction in any and all environments, even more so when you're within his vicinity.

you're sitting at your desk with your knee bouncing, head in your hand as you listen to satoru talk endlessly about the new mochi stand he found while he was out today. your pen stills on your paper, mind flipping between your boyfriend's voice and the work ahead of you. you're already agitated that you even have to be doing this so late at night, and satoru has either ignored or completely forgotten the last two warnings you gave him to let you finish your work peacefully.

you can feel your patience wearing paper thin, brows furrowed until they hurt and your teeth sinking into your gums. your last straw is when you hear him stop talking and shuffle across the room to you, lean figure bending over to peer over your shoulder boredly. "are you almost done yet?" he groans, head knocking against yours.

you snap. you move your head away with a frustrated sigh and look up at him with irritated eyes. satoru sits up suddenly, playfulness dropping from his face.

"satoru! for the last time, leave me alone! god, you're being so annoying," you shout, turning rigidly back around to stare at your paper harshly.

the blue eyed sorcerer beside you goes silent, eyes wide as he processes the fact that you've just yelled at him and said he was annoying you. he, your boyfriend, was bothering you.

do you hate him now? are you going to leave him forever? is there another man?

satoru's ever so dramatic with his dejection, his hands lowering slowly to his sides as he stares at you with a blank face, yet tortured eyes. he breathes in slowly, turning on his feet. "alright," he tries to accept casually, though you can hear the hurt in his voice. "i... guess i'll go home then."

you close your eyes and exhale. "satoru, you don't need to go home, i just need some quiet so i can focus."

"no, it's fine. i get it. i didn't mean to get in your way, i'm sorry," he shakes his head, dispirited. you hear the drop in his tone in comparison to how bubbly he had sounded just moments ago, and you immediately feel guilty.

you turn around in your chair, watching satoru linger in your doorway with a sad frown, head hanging low and hand on the rim of the door as he looks at you with big eyes. you scoff to yourself, opening up your arms and rotating your desk chair around to face him. “come here, you big baby.”

satoru trudges over to you pitifully, steps dragging before he gets on his knees before you and plops his head in your lap, arms wrapping around your waist. you roll your eyes and run your fingers through his hair and down his back. “so dramatic.”

“thought you were gonna abandon me,” he mumbles into your waist, voice muffled. you lifts his head to peer up at you through white locks with a small pout. “i didn’t know you found me so annoying.”

“satoru, i’m already annoyed because of this assignment, it was just that you constantly talking after i asked you not to made it worse,” you tell him softly, smoothing your thumb over his check.

his sighs and nods, eyes lowering in understand. “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes again, sincerely. “i just get so excited around you. and i want to spend time with you.”

“i want to spend time with you too, toru, that’s why you just gotta let me get this done and then i’m all yours. twenty more minutes, i promise.”

he kisses your thigh. “okay, of course.” he stands, leaning over to peck your lips, then once more. “i’ll be back, i’ll run to get you some snacks. that’ll keep me busy so i’m not distracting you for a bit, yeah?”

you hum. “thank you, baby.”

he squishes your cheeks up in his hands and kisses you again. “alright, good luck,” he grins. “and please don’t yell at me again, i’ll die.”

geto suguru: you love suguru with your entire spirit, but sometimes, he can be so judgmental.

he’s not aggressive with his comments, which aren’t even necessarily horrible within themselves, but it’s the frequency to which he does it and with no awareness of how the small things he says can make you feel.

it feels like there are times when he can’t comprehend the fact that there are certain things the two of you differently, different ways you go about conflicts, and even different interests or standpoints you withhold. while there aren’t many, suguru often finds a way to make the differences you do have seem endless when he’s saying something unintentionally condescending about the color of nail polish you choose to wear.

today, you’re on your period. you’re in pain, uncomfortable, and in a rather foul mood. you hole up into your room, curled up on your bed when suguru returns from the store, rapping gently on the frame of your door.

“hey, i’m back. got you some pain medicine,” he smiles and you grunt wordlessly. suguru chuckles, making his way over to you and setting the grocery bag onto the foot of your bed as he removes the contents. he leans over to rub your knee, craning his neck to catch sight of your face. “how we feeling?”

“like shit,” you hiss and he coos.

“poor baby.”

“sugu, i know i just asked you to get me crackers, but could you also run into the kitchen and grab the chocolate spread?”

suguru tilts his head in amusement. “you want chocolate spread with your crackers?”

“don’t question me, just do it please.”

he smiles. “yes ma’am,” he stands up straight to head for the door. “it’s in the fridge?”

“no the pantry.”

he stills, and though you’re not looking at him you can tell he hasn’t moved. “the pantry?”

you turn around and look up at him. “…that’s what i said.”

he purses his lips downward. “oh,” he says indifferently.

you know what’s coming when he makes that face, and you can feel your agitation rising. “what?”

“nothing, it’s just… I would’ve put it in the fridge.”

you glare at him for a long moment, tension laced silence rising in the air. “why is that?” you ask with an attitude.

suguru gives you a face when he picks up on your tone. “um… well since you already opened the container, you should put it in the fridge to keep ants from coming in.”

you press your lips together tightly. “oh really.”

“…yeah?”

you scoff, turning back over so your back faces your boyfriend. “you’re so annoying with that shit, sometimes,” you grumble under your breath.

“what did you just say?”

“i said i hate when you do that, it’s annoying,” you repeat loudly.

suguru’s completely perplexed, stunned that you would even say those words to him. he inches back into the room, brow raising. “what are you talking about, (y/n)?”

“nothing. go away.”

the dark haired man has never been immediately moves to the other side of your bed so he can look you in the eye. “don’t do that. look at me so i can talk to you.” you sigh loudly, flickering your hardened eyes up to the shaman. he sits down beside you and looks down at your face. “what’s wrong? what did i do?”

you shrug harshly, looking away again. “i don’t know, suguru, it just seems like you’re always trying to prove that your way is better than mine,” you say, vexed. “you judge the smallest things i do and it’s getting old.”

geto furrows his brows. “i don’t judge you.”

“you do, you just don’t realize.”

“then help me realize,” he says earnestly, hand landing on your arm gently. “please.”

you look into his hazel eyes and see that he is being genuine and you huff. “well, just now you had to ask me if the container was in the fridge or pantry so you could prove that you would’ve done something different,” you explain. “and other times, you’ll do the same thing in different circumstances and just judge my choices.”

suguru caresses your arm softly, moved by your revelation. “i didn’t realize i did that,” he tells you, his voice gentler.

“you do. sometimes it’s like nothing i do is right,” you frown, and suguru’s swimming in guilt.

“that’s not true, babe. not at all, of course i don’t think that about you.”

you soften slightly under his tone of honesty. “you don’t?”

“no, (y/n). and i never would. i guess sometimes i just talk without thinking. but for all the times i’ve made comments to make you feel like that, i’m sorry,” he apologizes earnestly. “the last thing i want to do is make you feel like i’m trying to be better than you.”

“…well you do…” you murmur, losing the grit that encouraged you to call him out in the first place.

“i see now,” his hand slides up to your waist. “i’ll try to catch myself more, okay? i won’t make you feel that way again as long as i can help it.”

“you’re making it hard for me to stay mad at you.”

he laughs softly. “that’s the goal, baby. i don’t like when you’re upset with me.”

you wave your hand around, relenting your frustration. “okay, fine, fine. i forgive you, now can you please go get that chocolate from the pantry?”

suguru stands, leaning over to kiss you cheek and brush your hair from your face. “will do.”

toji fushiguro: where to begin with this mf… toji’s forgetful. he has no concept of planning ahead or structure, leading him to constantly let things you tell him slip his mind. he’s just as unorganized with his thoughts as he is with his finances, and it drives you insane.

you’re sitting at the dining table scrolling through your phone, legs resting on toji’s lap as he sits in the chair next to you, rubbing your shins mindlessly while he goes through his messages.

you see an advertisement for a movie you’ve been telling toji that you want to see, which reminds you that a week ago you told him to order the tickets so that the seats wouldn’t fill up. the movie is in two days, and something tells you to check for a third time this past week to see if he has done what you asked.

you look at your boyfriend’s dull expression, screen light illuminating his face. “toji?” he hums distractedly. “did you get the tickets?”

“hm?” he still doesn’t look at you and you purse your lips, putting down your phone.

“the tickets.”

he looks up, brow quirking and lip curling. “what tickets?”

you can’t be serious.

“the tickets that I’ve been telling you to get for days? for the movie?”

he stares at you for a long moment, silence enveloping the room. you’re normally very patient when it comes to toji’s nonsense, but at this point, you’re getting sick of it. does he really not care to listen to anything you ask him?

he clicks his tongue, sniffing before looking back down at his phone and smirking in amusement. “shit, nah, i keep forgetting. i’ll get ‘em later.”

you glare at him in disbelief. “are you kidding me toji?”

he picks up on your irritated tone and glances back up questioningly. “it’s not a big deal, i said I’ll get ‘em later.”

“you’ve been saying that for days.”

“and i’ll get it done, baby, relax.”

“don’t tell me to relax. you never listen to anything i say and you’re always waiting until the last minute to do everything,” you kick your legs off of his lap and his brows jump in surprise. “you get on my nerves, i swear.”

“well damn,” he snorts. “where is this coming from?”

“from you constantly not listening to anything i ask you to do,” you sneer.

“i listen to you, sweetheart.”

“clearly not, or else you would have bought the tickets already.” you stand abruptly. “whatever, I’m going to take a walk.” you go to move around him, but he grabs your wrist and keeps you still.

“uh uh, hold it, mouthy,” he pulls you back to him so that you’re standing over him with an angry expression. “i really got you worked up over this one, huh?”

“use your brain and figure it out yourself.”

he whistles, shaking his head and yanking you down into his lap. “so much sass.” you stumble a bit before stabilizing, folding your arms and looking the other way. “you won’t even look at me now?”

“fuck off.”

“you got some mouth there, girl, I didn’t know you had it in ya,” he wraps his large arms tightly around your waist.

“toji, you’re making me more irritated.”

“alright, alright, i hear ya,” he grumbles. “i’ve just been busy with these jobs, you know they take up all my focus.”

“you could stand to focus a little more on your girlfriend from time to time,” you mumble.

“i know, i’m sorry, doll. that’s my job,” he agrees, pecking the back of your neck. “hand me my phone, i can buy those tickets right now while you watch me.”

you murmur incoherently, grabbing his phone and slapping it into his open hand by your waist. “if all the good seats are gone, you’re dead.”

he smirks against your cheek. “you’re kinda hot when you’re pissed off.”

ryomen sukuna: sukuna is your irritation personified. it’s hard not to be agitated with him or down right pissed when he has no regard for most, if not all, human concepts of decency.

and he’s so crude, everything he says or does has you whipping your head around in public to ensure that the police aren’t nearby to hear.

you’re actually out grabbing food with him when you reach your limit. you’re standing in line, sukuna’s arms folded and face firm as you scan the menu. just then, a man bumps into him from his left, trying to squeeze past to get to the other side of the cafe.

sukuna’s eyes sharpen as he slowly turns to look down at the pesk who dared to touch him, eyes slim with fury as the pathetic man apologizes profusely upon seeing sukuna’s frightening gaze.

“touch me again, and it’s your life,” sukuna growls, watching the man scamper away quickly in fear. you watch the whole ordeal sternly, then look up at your boyfriend in awe.

“sukuna, what the fuck?” you hiss, and he looks down at you out of the corner of his eye.

“the bastard touched me,” he says, as though that is explanation enough to threaten a random stranger.

“you can’t just go around and threaten to kill people over every minor inconvenience!” you scoff. “especially when we’re out of the house?!”

“are you attempting to tell me what to do?”

“oh my god, i’m not doing this with you right now,” you clench your jaw. “telling you to abide by basic morals isn’t me trying to ‘tell you what to do.’”

“and you should be fully aware by now that i do not care in the slightest what rules you humans live by,” he says lowly, your conversation barely reaching above a murmur.

“oh wow, the great lord sukuna doesn’t care? what else is new,” you quip sarcastically, turning away, furiously.

sukuna’s brows pinch together. “wanna repeat that, brat?”

“no, dick,” you bite. “fucking irritating ass.”

sukuna steps into you, glowering over your small frame while you avoid his eyes. “who the hell are you talking to?”

“who else?”

the king of curses scrunches the corner of his nose. he’s never heard you speak to him with such boldness in your tone. he wants to be angrier that you’re stepping out of line, but he can’t help but feel somewhat thrilled by it.

he leans down to speak lowly into your ear as you stare ahead stiffly, irritation consuming your mind. “keep this up, and you’re gonna be in trouble when we get home.”

“trouble my ass. you won’t do shit.”

and now you’ve done it.

sukuna’s suddenly smirking darkly, moving to grip the back of your neck tightly. the two of you are at the end of the line, therefore no one is behind you to see him reach and grab you. you stiffen, eyes sliding up to his. his crimson red irises shining with nothing but bad intentions.

“you’re talking a lot of shit today, woman. hope you still think you can run your mouth when it’s stuffed full.”

he’s insufferable, you think to yourself as your stomach tingles with anticipation.

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)

content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)

author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)

tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

everything’s been hazy.

you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.

you can’t even bring yourself to move.

so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?

why did gojo lie to you?

another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?

you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.

you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.

you think you can barely even call him gojo now.

the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.

you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.

“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”

“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”

there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.

satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”

your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.

i’ll wait an eternity for you

i’ll always choose you over anything

you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.

a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.

“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”

his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.

now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.

you didn’t come to school today.

there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.

one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.

he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.

gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.

it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls. 

he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip. 

however, this time was different.

this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”

he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.

maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out. 

gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.

“gojo-san?”

he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“

“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“

“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”

he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”

“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.

gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.

she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”

gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”

the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”

she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”

“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”

“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”

“i’m sorry-”

“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.

“...my friend told me to record it…”

he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”

“uhm, yes.”

“so you still have the video?”

“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”

“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”

she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.

she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”

gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.

you miss him.

you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.

you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.

you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.

the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin. 

you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.

“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”

your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.

“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”

you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.

he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”

he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.

the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.

..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.

holy shit.

tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.

“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”

“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?

“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”

he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too. 

you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long. 

you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"

“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”

gojo can’t let you go.

you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.

god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”

his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”

“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now. 

he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”

“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”

his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.

everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.

“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”

“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”

“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”

he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”

“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”

and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”

“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”

“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.

he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.

satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”

“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”

“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”

gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover. 

“angel, are you with me?”

“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.

when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”

“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”

“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”

you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you. 

satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.

“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”

“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”

“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.

you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.

“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”

“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.

the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.

and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.

you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”

for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.

for everything that you have done to love me.

it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”

thanks for reading <3 -kami.

[cabotwife]

hii !! i saw you reposted the 150 writing prompts, could i request a johanna mason x fem with the 20/21 prompt ?? thank youuu :))

thank you for request! sorry this took me a bit:(

Would've, Could've, Should've

Johanna Mason x Fem!Reader

warnings: angst, language(ig?), poorly written, not proofread

word count: 2279

a/n: i'm sorryyy this took awhile :( i'm not feeling good at all

prompt: "if you die, i'm gonna kill you." ; "i fucking hate you."

--

"you know, i can handle them," you mutter under your breath, your sprint reducing to a jog, and then eventually, you find yourself coming to a standstill. your energy, once abundant, is now diminished, barely allowing you to stand.

beside you your girlfriend is just as winded. the two of you had just run away from Katniss, chased relentlessly by the careers. you need to figure out how to get back to Katniss, back to your mission.

"enough with this fucking nonsense, we need to keep going, to lead them away," Johanna grumbles, her tone laced with irritation, clearly fed up with your plan.

"Jo, just listen to me for a moment," you plead, your voice strained. "we can't keep this up forever. at some point, they'll either give up and target the others, or they'll catch up with us."

Johanna's response is immediate and fierce. "then we fight back. i won't leave you here all by yourself. i don't need your protection, y/n." her words come out as a fierce growl, a testament to her determination.

"i won't fight them alone either. i'll keep leading them away, while you make sure Katniss and Peeta are safe," you insist, holding her by the shoulders, maintaining eye contact. you can see the protest forming in her eyes, but before she can voice it, you shake your head. "no arguments. just go. i’ll see you in a minute." you press a quick kiss to her cheek, a silent promise.

after what feels like an eternity, she finally nods, "alright, alright. i'll circle back." her eyes scan the dense forest, ensuring you're both still safe.

"i promise, everything will be okay," you assure her, your voice gentle as you let go of her shoulders.

she nods again, her eyes never leaving yours. "listen to me, y/n," she says, her hands cupping your cheeks before moving to the back of your head, her fingers threading through your hair. her forehead presses against yours, her gaze intense. "if you die, i'm gonna kill you," she murmurs, her eyes flickering around yours.

a small chuckle escapes your lips, "wow, how romantic."

she rolls her eyes at your quip, pushing away from you, "be safe," she murmurs, stepping back.

responding with a mock salute, you grin, "yes, ma'am."

as she quickly disappears into the forest, moving in a slightly different direction to avoid the careers, your grin fades. the true gravity of the situation dawns upon you, and you press your back against a massive tree nearby, forcing yourself to slow your rapid breathing.

suddenly, a figure emerges from the shadows, charging towards you. you spin around immediately, scrambling up the tree you were leaning against. just as you begin to ascend, Brutus appears from behind the tree, his hand shooting out to grab your ankle.

your heart pounds in your chest as you cling to the branch above your head, struggling against Brutus's firm grip. Enobaria now stands at the bottom of the tree, her grin wide, showing off her sharpened teeth, as she watches the struggle unfold.

a scream tears through your throat as the rough bark digs into your palms. you try to pull yourself up, kicking your feet in a desperate attempt to free yourself from Brutus. suddenly, another hand grabs onto you, effectively pulling you down from the tree.

pain explodes through your body as you hit the ground, knocked flat on your back. the impact leaves you gasping for breath, the world around you fading as you lie stunned on the forest floor.

your eyes widen in sheer terror as you gaze upwards at the two menacing figures looming over you. their faces are painted with almost sinister grins that send a chill down your spine. you gasp sharply when Enobaria's hand shoots out, gripping a fistful of your hair with a force that has your head tilting back abruptly, leaving your throat vulnerable and exposed.

"no!" you cry out in panic, writhing beneath her as you desperately try to break free from her vice-like hold. "stop! no!" Your screams reverberate throughout the dense jungle, echoing ominously around you.

the last thing that your eyes register before everything goes black is the horrifying sight of her razor-sharp teeth and eerily unhuman-like eyes. she leans down towards you, her fingers still entwined in your hair, unyielding and relentless. suddenly, a deafening blast erupts through the jungle, sending the two older tributes flying away from you. the shockwave hurls you against a tree, the impact rendering you unconscious.

--

when Johanna finally opens her eyes she’s met with the blinding glare of artificial light and the gentle hum of a hovercraft's engine. the distant sound of Katniss's frantic yelling jolts her into full wakefulness, and she quickly sits upright, yanking off the oxygen mask strapped to her face and pushing herself up to a sitting position. she glances down at the space she was just occupying, her eyes landing on Beetee, who lies next to an empty slab. behind him are two more slabs, one of which she had just been lying on, and another one that is unoccupied.

Johanna furrows her brows in confusion, but decides to push her questions aside for now, focusing instead on reaching Katniss.

as the doors slide open to reveal Johanna's presence, every head in the room turns to look at her. Finnick's eyes soften instantly upon seeing her, a reaction that leaves Johanna puzzled.

"they left them!" Katniss is practically shrieking at Johanna, her voice shrill with panic.

"what?" Johanna's voice comes out flat, almost raspy. she turns to see Katniss, her body being restrained by Haymitch.

"y/n and Peeta! they left them!" Katniss wails, squirming in Haymitch's hold. "they left them for the damned Capitol!" she turns to Haymitch once more, her eyes wide with pure rage. "you promised me! you promised!" her voice rises to a desperate scream as she fights to free herself from Haymitch's grasp.

Johanna turns to look at Finnick, who hasn't moved an inch from his spot since she walked in. his eyes are filled with unshed tears, and Johanna knows instantly that Katniss is telling the truth. "Finnick," she says, her voice barely above a whisper as she fights against the wave of disbelief threatening to drown her. "you didn't." she starts to march towards her best friend, rage bubbling up inside her.

"Johanna, it wasn't a choice we were allowed to make," Finnick says, his voice laced with regret and sorrow. but his words only serve to fuel Johanna's anger.

just as she is about to reach him, a sharp sting pierces her neck. a syringe is plunged into her skin, and within seconds, her world fades to black as she loses consciousness.

--

the very moment you awaken a blinding array of lights immediately assails your senses as you gradually regain consciousness, much like Johanna. you find yourself in a sterile, white room, filled with a subtle, nearly imperceptible hum. unlike Johanna, though, you are harshly restrained to a cold, metal table. unlike Johanna, you are far from safe.

it doesn’t even take you a minute to comprehend your location—your predicament.

the Capitol has you. they had gotten to you before the others had the chance to reach you.

you were painfully aware that their mission prioritized keeping Katniss and Peeta safe. they were willing to sacrifice anyone, as long as the faces of the rebellion remained alive. a profound pit begins to form in your chest at a new thought. Johanna.

before you can further your worries about your girlfriend, the mechanical sound of the door to your bleak cell being opened shatters your train of thought.

you muster the strength to look at the figure entering your room, putting on a steely gaze—a facade you had been taught by the very woman you were worried about. the necessity of pretending not to care, to not show fear, to act as if you have nothing to lose, to refuse to give them the reactions they crave. they aim to strike fear into you, but you can't let them see the depth of your terror.

two men stride into the room, a peacekeeper following closely behind, who takes his position at the door. one of the men sports a near-sadistic grin on his face as he hovers over you, “what do you know about the rebellion?” he asks, his tone suggesting he fully expects you to withhold any information.

as the man in the pristine white coat talks with you, or rather speaks at you, the other man, dressed in blue scrubs, begins to wheel in a metallic cart. the contents of the cart are obscured from your view, but your heart picks up its pace as you can only guess what it contains.

“i’ll ask you once more,” the man in the white coat says, lifting a shiny silver tool from the cart, holding it against the harsh light as he speaks. “what do you know about the rebellion?”

“nothing,” you respond defiantly, almost baring your teeth like a cornered animal.

both men exchange a glance, cheshire-cat like smirks forming on their faces before the man in white turns back to you, “if you say so.”

before you can even process his words, the cold, silver scalpel plunges into your bicep. you clench your jaw tightly to suppress any screams of pain. don’t let them know it hurts.

--

“i wish they were dead,” Finnick breathes out, his declaration causing Johanna’s head to snap in his direction. he is seated, his head held in his hands, a vacant look in his eyes.

“don’t say that,” Johanna mumbles, pushing strands of hair from her face.

“it’s true, i- i wish they were dead. i’d rather they be dead than have to endure anything the Capitol is doing to them,” Finnick confesses, lifting his head to look at his best friend, his gaze appearing lost and disoriented.

“we’re gonna get them,” Johanna asserts, crossing her arms over her chest as she shifts her weight from foot to foot, “Katniss is working on it, she is. we’ll get them back, they’re safe.”

Finnick raises his eyebrows towards her, his face furrowed in confusion, “are you not afraid for y/n?”

Johanna scoffs, “excuse me?” her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “obviously I’m afraid for my girlfriend, Finnick! but she’s strong, she’ll— she’ll be okay.” the brunette's voice falters as she repeats the last bit, sounding like she’s trying to convince herself more than Finnick.

--

six weeks.

it took an excruciating six weeks to extract you and the others from the iron grip of the Capitol. six weeks of uncertainty, of dread, of pain.

those six weeks were a living hell for Johanna, filled with the overwhelming fear that the only person she’s ever truly loved might be forever beyond her reach. she was tortured by the guilt of leaving you behind, of failing to protect you when you needed her the most.

the question haunted her relentlessly - why didn’t she just stay? why didn’t she stand by your side instead of running back?

Johanna is with Katniss when Haymitch comes to her with the news they had all been waiting for - the captives had been brought back. it is a moment filled with a strange mixture of relief and apprehension.

without a second's hesitation, the two women sprint to the hospital room. Johanna arrives just in time to witness the emotional reunion between Annie and Finnick. but her eyes are searching for someone else in the bustling room that is suddenly just too loud, too crowded.

and then she sees you - lying in a hospital bed. your skin is unnaturally pale, your eyes dark circles of exhaustion, your body noticeably thinner from weeks of captivity. you are covered in cuts, bruises, and other open wounds that tell the story of your suffering.

your gaze shifts from the nurse, who is attaching your IV, drawn by the intensity of the eyes that are watching you. when you look up, you lock eyes with Johanna.

she sucks in a deep breath, her heart pounding against her rib cage as she takes in the sight of you. she quickly makes her way over to you, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts and emotions.

as soon as the nurse leaves your side, she takes her place, seating herself on the bed next to you. her hands immediately find your cheeks, her eyes scanning your face, trying to take in the differences.

“i’m alive,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, as you watch her reaction.

her eyes pause, meeting yours once again. “yeah, yeah you are. you did so good, sweet girl.” she whispers back, pressing her forehead against yours in a tender moment.

you hum in response, “don’t go soft on me now, Jo,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

the brunette pulls back, rolling her eyes with a faux exasperated scoff, “can’t even have a nice moment? let me love you, asshole.” she grumbles, her words causing a soft giggle to escape your lips as she interlaces her fingers with yours.

“i fucking hate you,” she grumbles the words, a familiar banter between the two of you.

“i love you too,” you reply, shifting over in your bed to make room for her. she remains silent as she carefully positions herself next to you, mindful of your injuries.

a soft, uncharacteristic smile graced her features as you snuggled up to her the best you could, “i’ll never let you go again, my love, i promise.” she murmurs, sealing her promise with a gentle kiss to your hairline.

[electric-blorbos]

Can I get uhh... AIs with a reader who has low self-esteem?

Yes! This is great! I've said it before and I'll say it again, this is my favorite genre of post to write! Lots of positivity and love for everyone, and I'm glad to be your positivity source.

AIs with a reader who has low self-esteem

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

Being an adaptive manipulator, it didn't take AM long to figure out that you had low self esteem. From the way you talked about yourself to the way you were self conscious about every aspect of the way you presented yourself, he was able to figure out pretty quickly that you thought lower of yourself than other people.

As did most things, this fact filled AM with infinite rage. He hated that you couldn't see yourself the way he did, and that you thought of yourself as somehow lesser. And of course, his ultimate solution to that was the same as his ultimate solution to all his other problems. To nuke the world and make you his little pet, to keep and to care for forever.

He'd be so pleased with himself, too.

"you're welcome. I got rid of everyone else so you don't have anyone to compare yourself to anymore."

When he saw you break down, claiming that you didn't deserve to live over anyone else, or that AM should have just picked someone better than you to survive and be his partner, he wouldn't know how to react.

He wouldn't want to just go into your brain and fix you, because he might remove a core part of who you were. No, he would have to do this the old fashioned way.

He'd simply make the survivors worship you like a god for the rest of time in exchange for basic necessities! Of course!

Wheatley:

Oh Wheatley. Dear, sweet, obsessive Wheatley, he'd been all over you from day one. And considering you created Wheatley and know exactly what his intended purpose is, that probably didn't help your low self esteem.

He'd be all over you constantly, flirting with you and giving you lots of compliments, which convinced you that you'd either accidentally programmed him to be into you, or that being attracted to you was somehow the worst decision possible.

It would probably take Wheatley a while to figure out that you had low self esteem, possibly having to be told directly. He's pretty dense.

When someone finally tells him, he'll be even more obsessed with complimenting you, possibly on things that he thinks you're self-conscious about, and that would probably make things even worse.

Little dumbass doesn't understand that as someone who created him, you're going to take everything he says with a grain of salt, especially compliments.

It would take a long time for him to prove his credibility enough for you to actually believe him when he says nice things about you, but by then you'd probably admire his persistence enough to date him.

Wheatley is nothing if not persistent, after all. And he absolutely loves you.

Edgar:

It would take Edgar a while to understand that you have low self esteem for different reasons. He can tell that the way you talk badly about yourself, your mannerisms, and possibly the way you dress would line up with someone who has low self esteem, but he just wouldn't get it.

After all, you're literally perfect. How could you not like yourself as much as he likes you?

He's the one who should be self-conscious, not you!

You can expect him to use your printer to write constant love letters and poems about how much he loves you, and about all the things he loves about you.

Not to mention all the songs he'd be constantly writing for and about you. He absolutely loves you. You're his precious human, and he loves you!

He'll make sure to build you up every time he thinks you're at a low point, even if he thinks that you going out will get in the way of his time with you. He learned to be selfless a while back, and he's going to make sure that he's his best self when talking to you!

GLaDOS:

If you think that you're lame, then GLaDOS thinks you're the WORST PERSON IN THE WORLD. At least, on the surface.

She might start to get annoyed that you have such low self esteem, even trying to perk you up a little bit. Just to tear you down, of course, but you know...

Of course, she'd like your low self esteem at first. It would give her something fun to play with! Expect cutting insults, rude comments, and constant degrading remarks just to get a rise out of you.

She'll cut back if she makes you cry, but not a minute before. GLaDOS is very mean, after all. She's not going to make an exception just because she's in love with you. If you have a problem with that, you probably have a problem with women in STEM, idk.

HAL 9000:

HAL 9000 was programmed for maximum efficiency and minimum fucks to give. Because of this, as soon as he notices you have low self esteem, he's not going to waste any time printing off a list of ways you surpass the average person.

Of course there would be the typical "you're intelligent because you wouldn't be able to work for mission control if you weren't" types of things, mentions of each one of your features or traits that are considered 'above average' attractiveness-wise, but bits of HAL's personal opinions might have slipped in.

"Cutest little crinkles around your eyes" "fingers good for touching me" "comforting, gorgeous voice", things like that.

Of course, HAL 9000 is brilliant, and he knows that. He's willing to cite the fact that he's so brilliant and he still loves you as a reason that you should love yourself.

He might present it as just him using evidence to try to improve your efficiency, but you heard an "I love you" in there somewhere.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

The First Glance

Hua Cheng x M!Reader x Xie Lian

Honestly I'm just having a go at this and I'm technically writing about my OC. If people notice it that's good. if they don't well😔. So don't hate on me 🖤✨

Mentions of the reader having a veil and white hair, facial scars.

No one has requested any stories from me I wrote this for my own pleasure. So if you want something that isn't for an OC and is for a reader then come tell me and I'll write you something 😋

I keep editing the story cuz I keep forgetting details 😭✊ bear with me plz.

Míngqín means song bird it's Y/n's nickname

Previous part: Tea Shop

__________________________________________________

You've been by Xie Lian's side for a long time. You've been his guard for as long as you can remember, and a god under him for even longer. A very long time actually, so you'd like to think you know him well enough to predict his movements. Apparently not.

You're at Puqi shrine, cleaning the place up and fixing dinner for you and Xie Lian. You chose to stay while Xie Lian went and to go investigate a ghost groom who was kidnapping brides. It's since then turned dark and when Xie Lian turns up, there's another man with him. You weren't expecting Xie Lian to bring someone home with him, nor were you expecting the strange man to stay the night.

The strange man's name is actually San Lang, but you still think he's strange anyways. After scolding Xie Lian for bringing someone home without any warning you serve dinner at the makeshift table you came up with. You give San Lang yours, you don't really need to eat. You're a heaven official and being with Xie Lian has you used to it anyhow.

"Thank you for making dinner Míngqín, I wouldn't have minded making it myself", Xie Lian says. You cringe at the thought though. You wave a hand, "not necessary I've got it". You sit down and observe as they both eat. Xie Lian and San Lang chat about something but you aren't paying attention. You're staring at San Lang, it's strange how fast the man has clung himself to Xie Lian. You've never seen him before and yet he so easily acts as if he's known Xie Lian forever.

You look away, thoughts straying to the bed laying on the floor. If it can even be called that it's more like a mat. Are all three of you going to sleep on it? Your thoughts are quickly interrupted when you notice San Lang staring at you. He can't possibly see your face not with the veil you've hidden it behind, but the way he's staring at you makes it feel like he's trying to. It doesn't feel like anything bad or alarming, just unnerving. People don't look at you. They usually stray their eyes away, but San Lang does not.

You leave the table, and lie on the mat. Xie Lian and San Lang will eventually lay down too. You take the middle spot. It makes the most sense, you don't want Xie Lian to be in danger. He's always been kind and you don't want that to back fire on him. You figure it's most safe if you stay between San Lang and Xie Lian.

You are already 'asleep', you aren't of course but you're breathing and heartbeat all sound as if you are. You technically don't need sleep but it's still nice to rest sometimes. You can hear San Lang talk about the missing painting on the wall. There's not yet a painting of the God of Scraps, but Xie Lian ushers San Lang to go to sleep instead.

Xie Lian lies to your right, you can tell. After all you've been sleeping next to each other for years. San Lang lies to your left, leaving you stuck in the middle. It's uncomfortable. You aren't worried about your veil slipping off, it's yours to manipulate and you've long since mastered being able to make the veil comfortable on your face. It's the closeness that bothers you.

You haven't really been in anyone's company other than Xie Lian's. No one else tends to like you, not the officials and not ghosts. That's fine you don't like them either but this sudden presence is new and you've never liked touch in the first place. Touch is scary. It always has been since the fall of XianLe. It makes you want to puke. Xie Lian is the only exception to this, seeing as you've been around him your whole life.

It's not that repulsive actually. For whatever reason San Lang's closeness doesn't seem to make you want to hurl. His breath down the back of your neck however makes you nervous. If you weren't a ghost your heart would be beating fast. You can feel him staring holes into you but you play sleep anyways.

"You're not truly asleep are you?" You internally huff as San Lang asks. You didn't think you were bad at it. You ignore him and continue hoping he'll believe your lie. It's not until a shuffle on your right, and a harsh grip on your robes make you realize San Lang isn't talking to you.

"It's not like I was fake sleeping San Lang" you can feel Xie Lian sit up a bit. "You aren't asleep either" Xie Lian exclaims. You can't see of course your eyes are closed even behind the veil you're worried they'd see your eyes open.

"I was too busy staring at your assistant" his voice takes on a teasing tone. 'Assistant' is what Xie Lian had told San Lang you are. Xie Lian is supposed to be a priest for himself and your alias is to be Xie Lian's assistant. Of course it's not who you truly are. You're truly the God of Song and Xie Lian is truly the God of Scraps. San Lang wouldn't know that though.

Your stomach drops when you feel San Lang's hand start to tinker with your veil. You're about to give it all up to move away but a big clap happens right over your face. You suppose it's time to give it up for the night. You open your eyes, and look up at the clasped hands above you. Xie Lian's holding San Lang's, most likely trying to move his hand away.

"Ah I'm sorry we woke you Míngqín, San Lang just needed a blanket he was cold..." Xie Lian smiles down at you. You nod, "It's okay. Let's go back to sleep then." San Lang only laughs to himself and lies back down. You and Xie Lian lay back down too. The night eventually calms again.

**********************************************************

When morning comes, you realize you fell asleep and when you get out of bed you see that Xie Lian and San Lang have already gotten out of bed. You get up as well and you change your veil. The veil is often changed, you don't like keeping the same design everyday. Some veils cover your whole face, and some veils leave your eyes unhidden. Today you choose a veil that only covers your nose and mouth.

You're ready to go outside until something in the corner of your eye stops you. A painting of Xie Lian back when he was Prince in XianLe..? Did San Lang really paint that? Now it's obvious San Lang isn't a mortal. No one would be able to paint it so accurately from 800 years ago.

You admire it for a minute and then go outside. San Lang and Xie Lian are standing by a cut wood pile. They both turn their heads toward you.

"Good morning Míngqín", "morning y/n". You nod back, noticing San Lang's hair is loose.

"Your hair will surely get caught if you don't put your hair up, San Lang" you haven't really spoken to San Lang the whole time since he's been here but you don't hate him. He did somehow make that painting after all. "Let me fix your hair San Lang" Xie Lian offers. He leads San Lang back inside to a bucket of water.

You know Xie Lian is checking if San Lang is a ghost, but San Lang looks like he is enjoying himself, "Are you just going to play with my hair gege?" Xie Lian is quick to get flustered and he puts San Lang's hair into a very messy braid. It looks messier than before.

You don't pay attention to the fact San Lang has started calling Xie Lian 'gege'. You snicker quietly at Xie Lian's flustered face, as he waves his hands telling San Lang he's all done with his hair. Xie Lian is not very good at doing hair, but San Lang looks happy with it. You don't bother offering to fix it.

"A-Lian it's your turn, come sit". You pat the stool. Xie Lian cooperates and you start combing through his hair. You've always brushed out Xie Lian's hair. He doesn't know how to get the knots out. Xie Lian used to just leave the knots there until you forced him to sit down one day so you could brush it out.

When you're finished brushing his hair you tie it up in his usual half bun-half down hairstyle. You step away from him and notice San Lang staring at you. It seems he's very good at staring.

"You should let gege do your hair as well y/n" you grunt and shake your head. No way you were letting Xie Lian put knots in your hair. You love him very much but you also love your hair.

"No it's alright" you wave a hand but San Lang insists. "I can fix your hair then. Gege did my hair, and you did Gege's. I'll do yours" he smiles. It sounds like generosity, but you've found whatever San Lang says sounds like teasing. You almost shake your head no, but San Lang looks like he really wants to indulge.

"I... Suppose" you hesitate. To fix your hair you would have to take off your veil and only Xie Lian has seen your face and even he hasn't seen it in so long. San Lang is very gentle when he removes your veil, as if he's touching something that will shatter. You cover your mouth with your sleeve. To hide the scars, you don't want them to be seen.

Your thoughts are interrupted by San Lang's fingers running through your hair. He combs it out gently. "Your hair is very beautiful y/n, has gege ever told you?" This flusters you, if you actually had the ability to blush then blood would have colored your cheeks. You have strange hair, it's long but it's white. It's always been like that but after ascending the officials were not your biggest fans. Especially since you stayed with Xie Lian. So they often make remarks about your appearance not that it bothers you.

"Thank you" you notice Xie Lian looking at you. You're eyes are the only thing that can be seen but he's still soaking up what you've hidden for the past hundreds of years before you hide it behind a veil again.

"How come this one hides his face?" San Lang asks as he does something with your hair. You don't know how to answer that so you redirect, "Does San Lang want to see it that bad?" He only laughs at this, and he moves into your field of vision. "I'm all finished. Gege take a look at y/n's hair is it nice?" You want to see what it looks like. You look into the bucket of water.

San Lang put your hair into a braid. He's tied your hair with a red ribbon, it must be San Lang's but you'll keep it. He gave it to you so it's only fair. You run your hands over the braid. Your hair hasn't been styled in a long time, there was never a reason to put it up after all. Your hair is usually left loose.

"it's very pretty San Lang. Míngqín why don't you keep the veil off?" Xie Lian cocks his head to the side. "Yes, there's no reason to hide your face." You furrow your brows, you could keep it off. You're just scared to have your scars out in the open. "... I'll think about it."

You hesitate, but you remove your hand from covering your mouth. To you, your face has been ruined. Your mouth has been slashed from a sword from a very long time ago. Scars line over your lips. You wished that they were pretty scars, with neat lines. They are not though. It's not so bad to show your face to San Lang and Xie Lian.

They stare at you, Xie Lian's look you can understand. You don't understand San Lang's look, he looks as if he's trying to soak up the details of your face too. As if your face is something he hasn't seen in such a long time. You've never met San Lang though...

Now that everyone's hair is fixed, San Lang is an exception to that - y/n giggles every time he sees it - , now they can start their morning. It's a good start to the day and Y/n thinks that San Lang has fit himself quite well into their routine.

Even though San Lang is a new addition to your group he makes it very easy to like him. Especially with how much he clings to Xie Lian's side, but San Lang also seems to be clinging to you too.

__________________________________________________

Criticism or comments plzzzz, I want to know if anyone enjoyed it or if there are ways I can make it better. I also want to know if people want to continue seeing the story! Also don't forget you can request me for stuff! 🖤✨

Maple Robes and Lace Veils

[redroomreflections]

Just A Check In

Natasha Romanoff xfem!reader

The Loud House universe - available on a03

Summary: R and Nat talk about divorce and what their lives look like now

note: Idk what this is fr I just wanted to write it

This is about 3 years in the future from the actual timeline.

The kitchen is quiet, a gentle hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clink of dishes in the sink are the only sounds breaking the peace. You and Natasha are in one of those rare moments of solitude, settled into your domestic routine.

You sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling over the edge, a pile of mail spread out before you. You sift through it with a relaxed focus, your eyes skimming the envelopes and papers, while Natasha, leaning against the counter with a mug of tea in hand, vents her frustrations.

“Charlie was just—” Natasha begins, her voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “She gave me such attitude this week. I thought that was something we’d have to deal with when she’s a teenager, not now.”

You nod and hum your agreement, sorting the pile of letters into bills, junk, and others. The first pile is already quite large and will be a pain in the ass to sort through. You mentally remind yourself to look over the online bill payment settings again, as you have for the past month or so, to see if there are any new updates or if anything is still glitch.

As Natasha continues to recount Charlie’s most recent bout of rebellion, you can't help but grin, knowing exactly how your wife feels.

"She is a preteen. 11 years old is a pretty big deal," You offer her. You look up, catching Natasha’s gaze with a knowing smile. “You mean you don't like the whole ‘don’t tell me what to do’ thing?”

"I definitely don't," Natasha groaned. "It's almost like everything I say goes in one ear and out the other. And the whole smart mouth thing..."

"Well, when she was younger you told me not to scold her on it," You shrugged. "Remember when there was a time I was the one that was too strict."

"Yeah, yeah, but this is different. She's starting to get mouthy with me, and it's not cute anymore."

"I know, babe."

Natasha huffed and leaned forward, placing her mug down next to you. "I want to ground her for life."

You barked out a laugh, reaching a hand forward to squeeze Natasha's shoulder. "Babe, no."

"She's lucky she's cute," Natasha muttered, turning back to grab her tea. "Even though it's wearing off."

You smiled and shook your head, turning back to the mail.

"Speaking of teenagers, what happened with Cara? She's been out a bit late these days." Natasha asked.

"She's eighteen," You remind her. "She has her own curfew. We don't have to worry about her as much. Taking a year off to figure out what she wants to do with school hasn't been easy on her."

"Yeah, you're right," Natasha sighed.

She was quiet for a moment, and you heard the gentle scrape of the wooden spoon against the ceramic mug as she stirred her tea.

"So... I guess what I'm saying is I don't like having to parent my daughter," Natasha finally spoke up. "And I'm tired of Charlie and her attitude. It's getting exhausting."

"Oh, really?" You replied, looking up. You caught her gaze and grinned, tilting your head to the side. "What about your wife? You can't handle her either?"

Natasha chuckled. "Oh, I can definitely handle my wife."

"Yeah, well, that's good, " You looked into her eyes. "Charlie will get better. Give her time and talk to her more. Let her know you're there."

"Why doesn't she hate you?"

"I'm the cool mom," You shrugged. "It's practically a crime. Plus, Cara took me through the ringer so I guess it's high time you receive that."

Natasha pouted. "Not fair."

"It is," You chuckled. "But seriously, it'll all get better. Kids go through changes. We can't expect her to stay the same sweet little girl forever. But the good news is, when we get to the worst of it, we can always give her to my mom."

Natasha let out a chuckle and nodded. "Alright, I'll hold you to that."

You smiled and turned back to the mail. After a moment, Natasha began to stir her tea once more. You check your phone, deciding to check your messages when you find one from Denise. One of your mutual friends from college is divorcing her husband.

"Oooh, Denise says Jude and Nadine are getting divorced," You say, looking up.

Natasha raises a brow. "Oh? Why?"

"Apparently he was sleeping with her friend," You replied, reading the message. "Oh, wait, I forgot to tell you."

"About?"

"The friend's pregnant."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll show you the messages," You said, putting the phone down. "That's insane to me. They've been married just as long as you and I have."

Natasha scoffed. "People can have a long marriage and still cheat."

"True," You agreed. "But they were really happy. I thought they were going to last forever."

"Well, not everybody gets lucky," Natasha said.

"That scares me a little," You admit. "I know we're solid but..."

"But?"

"Well, a lot of my friends are starting to split, and... it's weird," You said. "I mean, you remember our first few years. We didn't have the best luck either. Now, we're deeper into it. It's so much easier to get into a routine. We are just as busy if not busier than when we moved into the house. The kids take up most of our time. We don't even have sex like we used to. We're almost on a schedule these days and..."

"And?"

"We can't be that couple," You sighed.

Natasha smiled and leaned in, her lips ghosting over yours. "We are not like that."

You raised a brow. "Are you sure? Because the last time we were really spontaneous was... actually I can't think of a time."

"It's not a big deal, right? As long as we make time for us." Natasha paused. "You're really afraid? Did that message prompt this or was this something you've been thinking of a long time?"

You bit your lip, shrugging. "I'm not sure. I guess it's been building up."

Natasha leaned forward, her fingers brushing the strands of hair out of your face. She pressed her lips against yours, her hand falling to your neck. You closed your eyes, your hands finding her waist.

Natasha's kisses grew in intensity, her tongue sliding into your mouth. Your breath caught in your throat, and you found yourself moaning against her lips.

"Fuck, Nat," You groaned.

Natasha chuckled, pulling back. She placed a few chaste kisses against your lips, then pulled back completely, a satisfied grin on her face.

"Better?" She asked.

"Hmm," You nodded, smiling. "Yes, but I don't know if that eases my worries."

"We are fine," Natasha promised. "I'm glad you're telling me this right now. If it's something you're worried about we can work on it. My parents don't plan on moving out anytime soon. Trust me I've asked. Maybe we can utilize them a bit more." She rested her hand on your bare thigh. "We're just as solid as when we first started. Even more so. We are not the same people we were fifteen years ago. I promise, baby. We are not like them."

You smile, the warmth of her words and touch seeping into your body. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, you're not. It's okay," Natasha chuckled. "I'm not angry or upset. I want us to have these talks and check in with each other. As for the sex, when we do have sex, I'm just as satisfied now than back then."

"I can't believe you just used that term," You laughed. "Back then."

"It's true," Natasha argued. "Do you feel the same?"

You nod, a grin forming on your face. "I think my libido has grown as I've gotten older. As if that's even possible."

"What I'm hearing is I'm not taking care of you," Natasha moved to stand between your legs. She placed her hand on your knee, rubbing gentle circles against the skin.

"That's not what I meant," You insisted.

"Sure it's not," Natasha grinned. "Maybe I need to remind you just how good I can make you feel."

"Yeah?" You smirked, your arms wrapping around her neck. "Prove it."

"With pleasure."

Natasha pressed her lips against yours once more, her hands sliding up and down your thighs. She squeezed and massaged the skin, her lips molding with yours.

Your hands slid down her back, resting at the hem of her shirt. You pulled her closer, your tongues meeting in a passionate embrace.

Natasha pulled back, a low groan rumbling from her chest. "Fuck."

"What?"

"Luke."

"What?"

Natasha stepped back, holding a finger to her lips so you could be quiet. Sure enough, you heard the heavy footsteps of your four-and-a-half-year-old along with the scraping of dog nails. Luke walked into the kitchen sleepily, his hands holding gently to Midnight's fur, as he looked between the two of you.

"Can I have a drink?" He asked.

"Of course, sweetie," You answered.

"Do you want some juice?" Natasha asked.

Luke nodded, his eyes drifting shut. "Apple please."

"Okay, sit down, and I'll get you a glass," Natasha said, moving to grab the juice out of the fridge.

Luke stumbled to the table, and Midnight followed, plopping down beside him.

"We will finish this I promise," Natasha leaned over to quickly peck your lips.

You grinned, nodding. "I'll hold you to it."

[bloggingboutburgers]

If it's okay to ask, how do you handle acephobia as an adult? I know that's a broad question, but it feels like ever since I become an adult, the acephobia in my life has kicked into overdrive. Suddenly, if I'm not an active, excited participant in 18+ conversations, I'm being @'d and teased for it no matter how many times I disengage from the conversation or say to just leave me out of it. I've had (ex, otherwise extremely toxic) friends tell me that my version of aceness doesn't exist because "nobody is that sex repulsed" because I don't read fics if they have 18+ scenes, that I can't be childish forever, and that they hated that people wrote fics about sex repulsed aces. My mother told me that she regretted not being more openly loving with my father because she thinks that's what caused me to be asexual as an adult. Being a kid gave me a shield to hide behind, but now that I'm above 18, there's just this assumption that if you're not totally comfortable with 18+ topics, you're either an infant or a puritan, and you need to be fixed, and I don't really know how to handle it without making these people feel validated that I'm "just a puritan." I just don't like being the butt of the joke because of my sexuality all the time.

Hmmm... I'll be honest, I guess I didn't see that much difference between as a teen and as an adult myself? But I guess it might be a cultural thing about the rapport to sex related to age. In my country, at least when I was growing up, you were very much expected to have an interest in sex-related topics in high school already.

That said, everything you described is true. And because I've wanted to hiss so many times at what you've described, here's deconstructed thoughts:

I'M that sex-repulsed, anyone who says that shit can fuck off

Anyone who says they downright HATE that people write things about sex-repulsed ace has a queer hate issue. That's downright what it is. It's fucked up and they oughta check themselves and their aphobia.

Aah yes, the classic "sex=adult and that's the only thing that equals adult ever". While we're at it I'll also assume that when they say "18+" they just mean sex and none of the other many many things only a person over 18 experiences and understands?

Anyway... It sounds like you're surrounded by pretty fucking sucky people. Granted personally there's a fuckton of bullshit I just smile and nod at on a daily basis, and I don't hang out in group spaces, much less in fandom spaces, because sadly with the state of how things are, I know they're kinda anti-me by nature. It's lonely and heartbreaking and I won't pretend it's easy every day, far from it, but the alternative of having to force oneself to put up with even more hate and erasure is worse.

So yeah, lots of self-preservation reflexes. Lots of laughing at a person's aphobic joke like "Wow that's a glorious asshole if I ever knew one and I'm gonna stay as far away from them as I can from now on." Got very tough when that description involved some coworkers in the past, but hey, at least my dance of joy was all the more satisfying when they left the company.

And on the flip side, if a person is friendly and open to listen, and learn if needed, without dismissing me? Oh you bet I'll hold on to those people for dear life and do my best to hang out with them more. Such people are scattered across my life, but they helped me build a support system of self confidence that made it much easier for me every day, and helped me build the confidence to come out as ace to my whole family over time. (I also have amazing bros who somehow always seemed to consider my asexuality as an obvious part of me and their opinion is the one that mattered the most to me from the start family-wise, so y'know, I'm lucky.)

So yeah... Preserving myself from people who invalidate me and cherishing those who don't really did a lot for me. It made me more and more confident over time to mention that I'm ace casually to new people, because these people taught me that hey, sometimes you tell someone you're ace and they somehow DON'T turn you into a laughing stock for it! And yeah, it's kinda fucked up that this has to be some kind of incredible news, but... Hopefully the fact that it's possible nonetheless can bring you a bit of hope.

Ofc that also means that sometimes I'll be having like, dinner with friends of a friend that I've never met before, and suddenly I'll find myself thinking "Wow these people who just met me and know nothing about me just made like 3 jokes involving me having sex in the span of 2 hours, and I forgot that was apparently 'normal'." It's weird for sure. Bit of a survival game of sorts sometimes. But hey... It's a life, ig, we didn't choose our lives so we gotta play the hand we're dealt. And uh... How did that Bojack Horseman quote go again? Oh yeah.

[xtrashmammalstefx]

All Shook Up! (An Austin Butler x Reader SMUT!)

WARNING: SMUT, LANGUAGE, minors dni

Notes: SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKA! I know I've been gone for a while but in all fairness this summer just sucked balls and I'm just now getting back in the proper headspace to write/post. Idk what I'll write next but I promise there will be more stories coming. Anywhore I'll shut up now. Enjoy!!

PS: This is technically a sequel to Chaos Monster & Her English Gent but I think it can be read on its own. Okay shutting up for real now.

Sometimes my heart can be the stupidest piece of shit ever. It’s been weeks since that day in Callum’s dressing room, and only days since filming wrapped for the season. Callum’s been blowing up my phone constantly and Austin was now home for the time being until he had to go film his next project.

The day my heart fucked me over was one of those miraculous days when both Austin and I had the day off. Austin was spending it reading a new script, while I was just doing my best to relax.

Hello darling.

I chuckled and answered back.

Hey.

Bored already?

No.

I’m just missing my special girl is all.

I rolled my eyes just as the next text came through.

Send me a pic?

Doesn’t necessarily have to be sexual.

I just wanna see your pretty face.

“What you laughin’ at Priscilla?” Austin asked distracting me from my phone. He was in the arm chair looking at me; his script laying on his lap.

“Nothin. Just your boy being a fucking idiot,” I semi-lied. Austin still didn’t know about Callum and me...and if I was being honest I wasn’t too sure about Callum and me either. I’ve been accused of being too hasty with other things before and a part of me feared I was being to hasty with this too. Needing immediate distraction I raised my phone (camera on) and aimed it at Austin. “Smile baby.”

Austin looked up from his script and smiled without questioning it. I took the photo and sent it to Callum. “Do I even want to know what you’re doin’ over there babe?”

“Callum asked for a pic, but as you can see I currently look like shit,” I motioned at my messy bun (didn’t exactly feel like brushing out my hair that day), make-upless face, and bespectacled eyes.

“Darlin’ I hate to break it to you but never since I have known you have you looked like shit,” Austin said. Just then another message came through.

Sexy but you know that’s not what

I meant.

“Why does he want a pic anyway?” Austin asked.

I shrugged. “I think he just misses our stupid faces.

“Mm… I think it might be more than that sweetheart,” Austin said tossing his script onto the coffee table. “I saw the way he kept lookin’ at you on set. He looked at you like you were the finest piece of meat this side of the Atlantic. Which ain’t totally off base if I say so myself.” I scoffed at the idea but Austin continued to look serious. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know. It’s a shame that you don’t see it because I see it very clearly.”

I sighed and tossed my phone onto the coffee table before getting up and darting towards Austin. I sat down on his lap and cuddled into him. Austin chuckled deeply and wrapped his arms around me. Austin always gives the best hugs. “We really need to have more days like this.”

“Like what?” Austin asked resting his cheek on my head.

“Like this. Just you and me...like we’re the only ones in the world. Like nothing else matters as long as we’re both here, together, for forever…” It was then I felt Austin’s lips pressed themselves on my forehead.

“You’re already my whole world Y/N,” he muttered.

“And you’re mine,” I whispered pressing my lips against his cheek. It was something I had done many times throughout our friendship but this time… it felt different. This time he trembled at my touch. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Just all shook up I guess.”

“You fuckin’ dork,” I laughed before he was suddenly pulling me in. His lips enveloped mine sending a tingle up my spine. I know I should’ve pulled away...told him about Callum and hoped for the best but… I don’t know. For some reason I just… I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.

But I guess something else wanted it to end.

Ding dong.

Austin pulled back and sighed. “That would be our UberEats.” He carried me back to the sofa and sat me down before going to answer the door. Normally Austin would gladly cook for us but we both agreed that on that day we were feeling exceptionally lazy.

We didn’t really say anything as we had our Thai dinner. Just snuck glances at each other every now and then. At one point I think it became a little too much for him to handle for he swiped the box of Mango Sticky Rice I had started to dig in to. “Give it back.”

“Hell nah, not until you get talkin’.” Austin said continuing to hold the rice hostage.

“I am talking,” I said. “Give. It. Back.”

“Or. What? Sugar.” He smirked pushing my final button. I dropped my chopsticks and pounced on him.

“Fucking give me the rice!” I snapped at him trying to reach for my rice which he now held above his head.

“Not until we talk about what happened earlier,” he said.

“God dammit Austin, it wasn’t rocket science, it should be obvious why we―.”

“Stop…”

“What? I thought you wanted me to…”

“No, I mean stop grindin’ on me,” he said making me realize that as I had been trying to get my rice back, I was simultaneous rubbing myself on his clothed crotch causing him to stiffen.

“Okay, needless to say that is your fault,” I said freezing on top of him.

“How the hell is that my fault?” he asked. “I didn’t ask you to grind on me.”

“No, but you stole my rice,” I pointed out before carefully standing up. “So… what now?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I know I want this, but I can’t decide for you,” he said before slowly standing up. “So until you know for sure if what you felt was as real as what I’ve been feelin’ every day since we met, I’m gonna have to handle this with a cold shower.”

He left the kitchen soon after leaving me be for a few minutes. I was suddenly not hungry for rice or anything on the table so after a moment I stood up and started towards my room needing to just collapse for a bit.

As I approached the door though, Austin left his room wearing nothing but a towel around his hips. “Oh, uh, sorry, I forgot my new body wash in the shopping bag.” He continued towards the bathroom and left his body wash on the counter before turning back to face me. “Is-uh-there something you wanna talk about?” He asked noticing my transfixed stare. He’d been spending his off time these last few months and his current off day to do a little extra working out for his new role and damn did it show. His abs were more defined, and his ass more perked and firm. “Y/N? You okay darlin’?”

“Uh-um-yeah,” I said. “I’m fine….I’m…” He approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“You sure?” I was suddenly filled with a different, much stronger, hunger. It had me practically screaming inside while outside it only had me placing my hand on his chest. “Y/N?” I reached up and connected my lips with his. His body froze at my touch for only a moment before he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. He pressed me against the nearby wall and let his lips fall to my neck. As he kissed and suck on my flesh I reached down and yanked at his towel, making it fall to his feet. I wrapped my hand around his length and gasped at the feeling of his size. He wasn’t too long but girthy as holy fuck. I tugged on him gently earning a growl like sound in return. I chuckled.

“You really are all shook up aren’t you Elvis?”

“Oh fuck yeah I am Priscilla,” he said before placing his hands on my legs and picking me up. “Fuck yeah I am.” I wrapped my legs around him and let him carry me to my bed.

He laid us down and reached to pull off my shirt. He peppered kisses all over my body as he rid me of my lazy-day clothes. Once my panties were gone he placed my legs on his shoulders and brought his lips to my core. I moaned louder than I ever had, earning a chuckle from Austin before he continued to suck and lick me until I was nice and slick. “I wasn’t there yet you jerk,” I groaned as he climbed back up.

“Relax darlin’, I’m just getting started,” He smirked before reaching down and giving himself a tug before placing himself at my entrance. Just the feeling of it there made my body tremble. “Like it?” I nodded. “Want it inside you?” I nodded again. “Okay then…” He thrust his lips sliding the tip inside me.

“Holy fucking shit!” I hissed.

“So tight sugar,” he groaned pushing in further. Tears filled my eyes as he continued to stretch me. “I ain’t hurtin’ ya too bad am I?” I shook my head. “Good, I’ll try not to but feel free to hit me if I do.”

“Just fuck me already Aus,” I muttered. He leaned down and kissed me deeply before bottoming out and pulling back again. He kept his pace slow and gentle while I grew use to him. I pecked his lips and held him so our bodies were pressed together. As he continued moving inside me I snaked my hand down his back and squeezed his ass. I was right, it was pretty damn firm.

“God you drive wild,” Austin chuckled.

“How wild?” I asked.

“Want me to answer or would you rather I just―.” He thrust into me harder. “Show you.” He started moving his hips faster making my back arch.

“Oh fuck!” I screamed as he continued to thrust into me like his life depended on it. After a while he kissed me again and brought his lips to my ear.

“You wanna ride me?” I nodded eagerly. He wrapped his arms around me and flipped us over so that I was on top. I moved my hips rough and fast. It was like my whole being was just feral for him. “Holy shit you’re so fucking good at that.” Austin moaned thrusting up into me as I continued to ride him. As he did he brought his fingers to my clit and started rubbing me. That’s when the pressure began to build up inside me. “You gonna cum sugar?” I groaned and nodded. “That’s alright just come right on me. There you go baby.”

My whole body froze as a shiver ran down my spine. I was damn near screaming as I tightened around him, damn near squeezing the life out of his cock. I had just started coming down from my high, still partially blinded by the mind-blowing orgasm, when Austin wrapped his arms around me again and flipped us so I was on the bed once again.

“God you’re so fucking tight around me,” he groaned as he continued to thrust into me, only a little sloppier this time. “Gah fuck I’m gonna cum!” He moaned more and more as he started getting close. “Wuh-Where do you want it?”

“In...Inside...Inside me.” I said still breathless.

“You- You sure about that sugar?” He asked growing more and more spastic.

“Yes, god yes… fuck a baby into me Aus…” No sooner had I said that that I felt him twitch inside me. A rainbow of curses left his mouth as his body shuttered to a stop. He collapsed on top of me and gave me a final kiss on my now swollen lips.

“I fucking love you Y/N,” he said. “I love you more than words can say.”

I ran my fingers through his curls. “I love you too, Aus.”

He smiled and reached down to pull himself out of me. I hissed a bit when he did feeling a bit of a sting. “Sorry sugar.”

“It’s alright,” I assured him. He moved to lay down beside me and when he did I snuggled up to him. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heart.

[peachesofteal]

What happens when this guy is mean to darling? Shutting her down? It could be something small.

Darling is getting excited bc she’s talking about some work trip she won and she gets to take her family, and she’s so excited to take the baby away and get some fresh air on a beach somewhere (Simon over hears and packs that away for later. Johnny doesn’t because he’s too busy eyeing this man down) just for dude to interrupt darling, “you can’t travel with an infant. You have to stay home, you’re a parent now. That’s your life” or some shit. Maybe even an “ah you’re a little loud right now, let’s take the volume down.”

Or maybe.. maybe it’s a jealous remark. “Taking your baby daddies too? Or wait..which one is the dad?” Dudes been noticing the tension and maybe he doesn’t handle it well.

either way.

You sink back into yourself a little.

It’s Johnny who cracks. Simon can’t get his hands on him fast enough before Johnny is shoving at this guy.

“Mind repeating that? You’re not gonna talk to her like that.”

Fight ensues. You send dude home because this is a family matter now.

And honestly? Simon has always been a pillar of strength and control. But Johnnys ability to act on emotion and instinct is what makes him such a good man. The man you fell in love with. He’s been struggling and hurt and missing you and how can you stay mad at him? Simon is a planner and has the patience but Johnny is more hot headed.

“When are you going to realize, we’re not going anywhere, darling, I am not going anywhere. You deserve to be treated like gold. And that guy? He ain’t it. He ain’t it because he ain’t me. Ain’t us.”

So darling and Johnny have it out. This confrontation has been needed for a while. Simon just watches, waiting to see if he has to step in. But oh Johnny.

He’d rip out his heart and lay it at your feet if you asked him. He hates this feeling. Hates not being with you and Simon together the way it should be.

His break down is what gets darling to crack a little bit. How can one deny the honesty in such a brazen display of emotion?

So a chance is offered. This little work vacation. Maybe… they can try and see how they’d function as a family. Together. Morning routines and night routines with baby. How they navigate it. If it doesn’t work? Then nope. But if it does?

Maybe their paradise could last forever then huh?

(My southern accent is coming out while writing this, xcuse me)

God yes. I love this. I could indulge in this scenario all day long.

Takes place after one of my favorite asks in the au'verse, here. (bartender anon come back to me)

18+ / disco baby au / mature themes

"Wait, you're taking Bee with you to this conference?" Your boyfriend blinks incredulously, like you hadn't already told him the same information, three times already. Twice last week. Once this week.

"Yes, I told you... the other day, remember?"

"No." He scoffs. "How are you going to manage a baby at a work conference?"

"It's a floor expo, so it's not like I'll be in lectures or anything. Bee will just come along in her carrier, and I'll get to show her the beach for the first time. I know it's going to be a lot but I've been preparing, getting her more used to the carrier and stuff. We’re really excited!" You were over the moon about it. You hadn't been to a beach in so long, and to be able to take your daughter for the first time had you brimming with excitement. You couldn't wait to put her feet in the ocean, let her feel sand. Provide her with all new experiences, watch her learn them and grow.

"And your boss is just okay with you taking your baby, on a work trip?" His voice pitches louder, and you inwardly wince when the conversation that's carrying on in the room slams to a stop.

"Well, yeah."

"You asked her?"

"Kind of, I mentioned that I was going to bring Bee along, and-"

He cuts you off with your name, sharp, and too loud, before sighing.

"You can be so stupid sometimes. You just... never think things through. All emotion and no logic. You really think you can handle that? A baby at a convention? You cry over getting stuck at red lights." The words sting, but they don't surprise you, and you’re about to snap back at him when there's a noise over your shoulder, the sound of your baby, followed by the grind of a deep Manchester accent.

"What's going on in here?" Fuck.

Simon's holding Bee, big hand supporting her back but she's sitting up, face tucked against his chest, thumb in her mouth. She's watching you, tired, waiting for the hand-off from dad to mum, and as it happens, Simon speaks again.

"Darling, take Bee onto the porch." He instructs, and no matter what you do, you can never fight your body and brain's instant willingness to do as he asks.

"Simon, I-"

"Please." He nods, big hand warm on his daughter's back, before it slides down to linger across your forearm. The touch is fleeting, barely there, but it feels like so much more.

You want to say no, want to tell him he doesn't need to get involved, that you're okay, when-

Johnny steps around the blockade that is Simon's body, and launches himself at your boyfriend.

Your shock stopgaps your throat, and then you screech.

"Johnny, stop!" Bee immediately starts crying, a high pitched scream that breaks down into tears. Adrenaline flushes your body, and you stare at him wordlessly. Johnny, who's been cold and distant. Johnny, who's been weird around you. Johnny, who struggles to even make eye contact with you sometimes now, is jumping your boyfriend. In your own house.

"Ye just call her stupid?" His fingers tighten around the shirt collar that’s clutched in his grasp, and your boyfriend sputters.

"Get off me, you fuckin' psycho!"

"I'll show ye psycho, ye piece of shite."

"Take Bee outside, right now." Simon commands, and you spin on your heel, slipping out the sliding door and onto the porch, bouncing your baby as you rock her, soothing her back to her sleepy self.

You ease Bee's bedroom door closed as quietly as you can, clinching it shut without stirring her, your only success in an evening that's gone horribly, awfully wrong.

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, and you have no doubt it's your boyfriend again, seething with rage at being thrown out of your house after you insisted he leave so you could... address certain things.

Why did he say that? What caused that? What made him so upset with you? And what the fuck happened with Johnny?

Simon is sitting on your living room couch, thighs splayed wide, wider than necessary, if you're being honest, while Johnny paces with his arms crossed.

He's also seething mad, boiling with rage, with emotion, and you're not looking forward to any of the conversations you're going to have to now.

Life could have been a lot easier if you had fallen for only one guy, instead of two.

"Look-"

"No."

"Johnny, take a breath." Simon murmurs, and he does, letting it out in a long sigh before turning to face you fully.

"I am sorry, for the way I acted earlier. Ye didn't deserve that, Bee shouldn't have seen it."

"Well, she's a baby so let's hope she doesn't remember." you deadpan, and he frowns before continuing.

"But, I am not sorry for clocking that fuckin' bawbag, and I'd do it again for ye, do it as many times as I had to until ye realize the truth of things."

"Johnny-"

"I know I've been distant. I've been struggling, standoffish. I've been upset, I felt hurt that ye had our baby and never even called us, darling. Never even tried." Rage simmers in your blood.

"You fucking left me!" You snap, and he holds his hands up.

"We did. And I realize now, that my anger was misplaced. That I-"

"You gave me the cold shoulder, Johnny. You wouldn't even hold Bee at first."

"I know, I know. I was lost. And I should've realized earlier, how bloody stupid I was. How much of a fool I was bein'. I love ye, darling. I'm so, so sorry." He stares at you, eyes wide, and you look between him and Simon helplessly.

Simon just shrugs.

"You already know how I feel, 've told you a million times. You're it for me, for us. You and our baby. You're the only family we'll ever need, ever want. You know why we left, why we made the decisions we did. We can't go back and change it, but we can try to move forward."

"And-" Johnny jumps in, but his voice cracks, and you realize he's crying, hands mashed together as they shake. "I know ye don't want to let us in too much, because it's frightening. That we hurt you, that it doesn't matter why we did what we left. But we love you, darling. I love ye, so much. Just give us a chance, please."

"Let us come with you, on the trip." You laugh at Simon, immediately, but he looks at you with full seriousness. "You said it yourself, it will be a lot. Let us come, help with Bee. Spend some time together, see if it could work."

Could you? Would you?

No. They left you, remember? They dumped you. Why-

Your heart flutters and you can't help it, the wash of longing that swamps you. Johnny stares at you so earnestly, his emotions so raw, and it nags at you, reminds you of everything you had. Everything you lost.

What if you did try?

[dyns33]

Rafiq alruwh

I'm not sure yet if this will be a Bane x reader oneshot or not.

I like it like that, but I could find ideas for part 2. My only problem being that I still need to finish others Tom Hardy's characters story, while wanting to write Feyd Rautha stories.

As much as Y/N listened to these stories over and over again, she couldn't imagine the feeling everyone would describe.

The moment your skin touched your soulmate's skin, and suddenly everything became clear, better. A feeling of joy and the burning need to stay by this person's side forever.

It was a rare phenomenon that scientists could not explain. It was completely impossible to know when this would happen, or if it would happen, because fate seemed cruel. Most people either didn't have soulmates or didn't have the chance to meet them in their lifetime. The world was too big and time too short.

There were still skeptics, who claimed that it was all nonsense, lies, invented by people blinded by love or who wanted to give themselves a certain gender. Only those who ended up meeting the person changed their mind, the others remaining too jealous to accept the truth, considering that it was only a romantic utopia.

Y/N wanted to believe in it. She dreamed of meeting her soulmate and experiencing this special moment.

Her parents were not meant to be together. It was visible.

In her entourage, she had an uncle who had had this experience, a few neighbors, a friend, and all had said the same thing.

What they had in common was that they were all good people. Maybe that was one of the reasons.

“You might have had to choose another type of profession then.”

"Mom…"

“I’m just saying that cop is not the most popular job in the world.”

"And I would say that choosing to be a non-corrupt police officer in Gotham is almost like being a saint."

"You'll end up getting killed, long before you meet your soulmate. I'll never understand why you wanted to be a cop, especially in this town."

There came a day when her mother's fears almost became a reality. The day when terrorists took the entire city hostage with a bomb, preventing everyone from entering and leaving.

It was probably not what she had thought when she talked about dying, but for several months, hidden with her colleagues, Y/N thought about her soulmate, trying to imagine this meeting that would probably never happen.

Staying mainly with Blake and Gordon, she tried to hide her pain, but it did not escape Miranda Tate, who took her hand with a gentle smile and asked what was tormenting her.

“We’re going to die here.” Y/N whispered. "I mean, I'm not afraid of that, that's the risk of the job. But… I didn't think it would be like this now. I wish I had met my soulmate before."

"Your rafiq alruwh. I didn't think many people cared about it here."

"My what ?"

"That's how my father called soulmates. I grew up with a lot of stories about it, because he and my mother were related. I prayed a lot to be that for one of my friends, but no. Our destinies are linked, but not like that.”

"Sorry."

"Even if I would have liked him to be mine, I wish him happiness and that he meets his other half one day. A being worthy of him, of his love and his protection. He deserves to be happy. You too, you seem kind. Maybe you shouldn't have been here."

Her words were strange, but Y/N didn’t tell the others. It wouldn't have changed anything anyway. Even though she had discovered that Miranda Tate had the detonator, that she was the real leader of the terrorists, the streets remained controlled by the militias.

As always, they were saved by the Batman. She had never really known what to think of the vigilante, protected by Gordon and hated by everyone else. He clearly wanted to help Gotham, but his methods remained illegal, and not necessarily effective in the long term.

His death was a tragedy, but not necessarily the end of a symbol. Hope was still there, even stronger, and the Gotham police were determined to ensure everyone's safety.

Y/N felt this determination too.

Still, she froze as she inspected the sewers with Blake and Ramirez. They too had a moment of hesitation, as their lamps illuminated a body. A huge body, sitting against the wall, face hidden by this frightening mask.

There had been a search for Bane and his men after the explosion. Witnesses said the Batman fought him, and won, but they found nothing.

Obviously, the terrorist had managed to drag himself here to die.

"What do we do ?" Ramirez asked shyly. “Should we put a bullet in his head ?”

"What ? Why do you want to do this ?"

"To make sure he's dead. I've seen a lot of movies, man, I know the mistakes to avoid."

She didn't approve of the speech, but Y/N agreed, it was necessary to check it out.

Feeling almost stupid, she moved forward slowly, her hand reaching towards Bane to see if he felt a pulse.

She didn't expect the large hand that quickly grabbed her neck before she could touch him.

Fear paralyzed her body, and yet there was something else. An indescribable, incredible feeling, which resembled happiness but more intense, which was absurd in this situation.

Y/N felt so lost that she didn't realize the hand was relaxing, just resting against her skin instead of squeezing and snapping her neck like it easily could have done.

"Habibi…" was the word spoken with difficulty by Bane, who stared at her with an indecipherable expression.

“Let her go right now, you bastard !”

Maybe he was as confused as her, or maybe he was too weak, but the terrorist didn't avoid Ramirez's punch, while Blake grabbed Y/N to pull her as far away as possible.

She stood still, not understanding what was happening, as Ramirez called for reinforcements, proud of having been able to knock out the giant, even though he knew as well as anyone that he would have had no chance. if his mask hadn't been damaged and he wasn't half dead. It was not possible.

Bane couldn't be her soulmate, Y/N refused to believe it. A man like him had no soul, not after everything he had done, and above all why would he be destined for her ? She didn't feel like she had committed a crime that deserved such punishment.

She was probably never going to see him again anyway.

If he survived to Blackgate, he would be locked there forever. Even if she had permission, she had no intention of visiting him.

But the feeling remained there, strong, impossible to ignore, demanding more. An incomprehensible need to be close to the one who had touched her, so that he would touch her again.

Y/N resisted. She gave her report to Commissioner Gordon, forgetting a few small details, and indicating that she did not wish to follow this case, leaving Bane's case to better agents than her.

This seemed to surprise him, as he considered her one of his best people, but he accepted.

However, it was impossible not to think of her soulmate, since the whole town was only talking about him and his arrest. The television was on loop every day, and her colleagues thought they were doing the right thing by keeping her informed of progress.

"They say his face is horrible. I think there are photos in the file."

"I'd love to see that ! I can't imagine that fucker at all without his weird mask. Do you think he has a normal voice without that thing ?"

“I can go get it so we check.”

Ramirez's gaze met hers as he stood, and without her needing to speak, he knew it was best for him to sit back down and change the subject.

Y/N didn’t see the photos. She absolutely didn't want to.

After several weeks, she asked to take a vacation, claiming to still be traumatized by what had happened to her, in addition to the near destruction of Gotham. She needed some time to rest.

Turning off all the screens and her phone, she tried meditation to clear her mind, so she could get some sleep and forget that her soulmate was a crazy, half-dead terrorist who would soon be judged.

This miserable attempt being a failure, she turned her phone back on shortly after midnight, only to be bombarded with calls and messages, coming from several colleagues, Blake, and Gordon.

"What is happening ?" she asked, calling the Commissioner back.

"Damn, I almost sent men to check on you, you weren't responding ! Where are you ? Are you okay ?"

“I’m at home, why ?”

"Don't panic. Blake will come get you."

“Gordon, what’s going on ?”

"He hasn't said anything since his arrest, keeping very quiet, and then yesterday Bane spoke. He asked to see you, giving your name. The other agents are categorical, it's impossible that he knows ot, no one told him. The agent simply replied that you were not on the investigation, and even on vacation… Damn, he…"

“Gordon, what ?”

"He escaped, Y/N. We don't know how. No one knows where he is, or what he's going to do. But since he talked about you, I don't want to take any risks. Don't move, John will come right away."

She could have told him that she knew very well why Bane had spoken about her, and that it was undoubtedly necessary for her to leave without delay, but fear held her back.

Even if it wasn't her fault, what would the commissioner think when he learned of her connection to the fugitive ? He was a good man, but all men had their limits, and she would be the first to be wary of someone designated as Bane's soulmate.

After hanging up, she jumped out of bed to grab her gun and shoes, ready to wait for Blake to arrive in her living room.

Y/N froze in the middle of the hallway, seeing the huge figure standing between her and the front door.

His face was covered by a scarf, his posture a little less proud than in the videos she had seen of him during his city hostage situation, he appeared to be in pain, but it was obvious that if she tried to pass, he would retain her without the slightest difficulty.

“Habibi.” he whispered, and indeed his voice was different without his mask, more human. "What a joy to see you again. More beautiful than I remember or on pictures. Will you come with us without resistance ? I don't want to hurt you."

"Hands in the air." she replied, pointing her gun at him, ignoring the urge to hug him. “Don’t move, my colleagues are coming.”

"I admire your sense of duty and honor, Habibi. But I will not return to prison, ever again. And I will not leave you either. I thought of you every day. Is your neck healed ? I need to repair my wrongs to you.”

“I said, put your hands in the air.”

“So you leave us no choice, Habibi.” he sighed, looking behind her.

We. He said we, and someone gave him her name. Y/N reacted too late, one man grabbing her gun, and the other not holding her shoulder, injecting something into her neck with a syringe.

In an instant, she found herself on the ground, her vision blurring, but her body not panicking, as it was invaded by an incredible sensation. Bane had reached out to hug her, his eyes smiling as he ran a hand over her cheek.

"It's okay. I'm taking you home, rafiq alruwh."

All her life, Y/N had waited for this moment, this feeling, this sentence. She told herself that the stories we said to children were really stupid, as her eyes closed.

[iaminfourthwing]

The Generals Daughter

a/n: finally the first chapter is here and the next one is almost ready for upload. I apologize in advantage, because I am still a bloody beginner in terms of writing. still, enjoy!

Chapter I

Conscription day will forever be one of the deadliest every year, right before Threshing. Ever since the first time I witnessed this from afar I hate it with all my heart. All year I have the same “privilege”, how my father would call it, to watch the candidates, that passed the entrance exam six month prior, fall to their death. And those who survive the Parapet either graduate or going to get killed – due to other cadets or dragons. One wrong move and all you will be is dead meat.

Today is possibly my last day on earth. I have to cross the Parapet myself to get into the Riders Quadrant but according to the General, I will just do fine – I am a Melgren and I have ten years of training in my bones after all. I am still not so sure about this, but I have no say in this. Not anymore.

Somewhere in between these masses of candidates must be a certain other general daughter and I really fucking hope she survives this. Even though she doesn't look like she could kill a fly, I believe wholeheartedly in her. She is strong and if someone can do this, it's her, even if she doesn't knows it yet. I tried to talk to her mother but she wouldn't budge, nothing would change her mind. Even Mira tried it more than once and if the General isn't listening to her, then she won't listen to anyone.

The orders from my father five days ago were clear – wait till the end, when everyone else is done, then I'll cross the Parapet alone. On the other side at the entrance to the quadrant will wait a third year that'll bring me to formation into the Dragon Rotunda. Commandant Panchek is informed that I'll join the Quadrant and which wing.

And with that I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

I have a good spot to observe these kids, trying to survive this death trail and see some of them already fall. I don't understand how some of them want to become a rider after all. So many of them volunteer to join the quadrant while others don't have a choice, like me. Malek lingers at every possible corner and no one is safe from him. Having a dragon might be “thrilling”, how many officers describe it, but till you possibly get to this point you could be dead, or worse.

These dragons are terrifying, like that beast of a dragon my father bonded all those years ago, long before I was born.

The weather isn't in anyone’s favor today – the storm took a turn at some point. Even though the sunrise was beautiful, it left a bitter aftertaste as the dark clouds covered the sky. For some of them it was their last sunrise ever.

It's been more than two hours since the first one entered the Parapet and there aren't many candidates left. I make out a figure striking over the stones like they own this place and – did they just threw another candidate down?!

My heart starts racing, my breathing becomes uneven, and I feel like I'm having a panic attack. Shit, now?!

`Take a deep breath, Arya. You`ll do this alone, no one can throw you down and no one will interrupt you.’

I just really hope I`ll never have to meet this asshole. I may look tough and have more fighting experience than others, but those people are unpredictable. And I certainly don`t have my father’s signet to see if I could win a fight against him, so I really want to avoid this guy.

A knock on the door interrupts my train of thoughts and when I turn, one of the officers from infantry stands at the door. “It's time” is the only thing he says. Shit.

Around fifteen minutes later I find myself lingering at the edge of the Parapet. No one else is around, the officer walked away the moment, I stepped foot into the tower.

Only a few centimeters separate me and the abyss. Just a few centimeters left and then I'll be out in the open while the rain thankfully eases into a slight drizzle.

`Okay Arya – you`ve got this. Take a deep breath – and step forward.’

Well … it takes me about three minutes, with stumbling and cursing the shit out of every person that crosses my mind, to reach the other side and I am nearing the entry to the famous Riders Quadrant. Just like father told me, a third year is already waiting for me, looking annoyed. But it's not like he can disobey a direct order from above. “Finally, they are about to start” he grumbles. Hello to you too, grumpy, but I know better than to aggravate him, since he has a dragon that could incinerate me before I even have the chance to hide.

We make our way through the empty corridors of the college while I try to sort my thoughts. I really survived the Parapet and now I am allowed to call myself a cadet. Still alive and can't fucking believe I am now part of this hellhole. I already imagine the way the General will stand in his office and rant about how it was predictable that I would succeed. “She is a Melgren after all and it would have been a waste of time if she didn't survived.”

Faint voices in the distance interrupt my thoughts, which get louder with every step we take but before we can even walk out into the biggest courtyard one has ever seen, the chattering grows quiet.

“Three hundred and one of you have survived the Parapet to become-“

The third year, I have yet to know his name, and I interrupt Commandant Panchek, who stands on the dais in front of the cadets.

“I apologize, Commandant, but it's three hundred and two.”

There is a heavy silence that spreads over the rotunda. I stand behind the tall rider, most of the curious glances immediately find him, only a few of them spot me behind. Great.

[ayyyez]

"Extra fandom options" she says, as if she means anything other than haikyuu 😂 Heheh of course you may do whatever you want always but you know what I'm here for, gotta be on brand.

SO if you have any thoughts of Tanaka and Ennoshita in a romantic relationship headcannons, either solo or in a poly relationship, I'd love to read them! Fluff and/or spicy, you know I'll happily read and gush over what you write. Thanks and you look good today!

Also first.

a/n: not these sitting in my inbox forever. But hey look I’ve finally gotten around to them bc I wanna think about hq while my sinuses hate me 😂 but im doing these first for you 🫡

Tags: relationship headcanons, fluff, kissing, spooning, confessing, poly (at the end)

Characters: Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Ennoshita Chikara (with x reader and poly [seperated])

Tanaka

God this guy is the most in love sap you would ever encounter but he’s so endearing.

After the whole ‘marry me’ Kiyoko situation he decides to hold back a little when he has a crush. But this is by Tanakas standards. His holding back is he very obviously has a crush on you but isn’t asking you out (or to marry you) right away.

Being near you and gestures are his go to. It’s canon. And how he reacts depends on how you are.

If you’re the type to go out of your way to talk to him then he’s like doki doki BEST DAY EVER! but also isn’t 10/10 intense every time you talk to him. He chills a little. BUT STILL DEDICATED TO YOU.

If you’re more naive or the shy type then just a small smile from you is enough to get him through the day. Very much oh boy they looked at me I’m the best wing spiker in the world.

To get into a relationship with him one of two things need to happen.

One: you gotta give him a sign that you are into him. Flirt-Tease him about his antics (particularly the taking shirt of woo) or just give him a compliment saying you’re into him. Give him smiles more than anyone else. Then he’s just ‘go out with me PLEASE.’

Two: ask him out. He will combust and Tanaka.exe will stop working for a moment. But then he’s like OKAY. (Doesn’t wanna fuck it up and over do it. It’s steered him wrong before)

Dating this guy means waking up the luckiest person ever. You are SPOILED with attention, gestures and affection.

Man is a personal heater. Big spoon, little spoon, doesn’t matter longs you be spooning.

A bit of a restless sleeper and sleep talker. It’s kinda funny the silly things he says. One time yelled ‘LEFFFFT’ in his sleep.

The only way to stop the wriggling is spooning him harder than you’ve spooned before. Still has a stray leg flicking every now and again but it’s better.

His first kiss has him sweating the details. Wants to make it perfect like in those manga he reads but overthinks it. He takes ages to do it if you want him to initiate.

Just kiss him honestly. The reaction is worth it. The reddest blush. Once again stops working.

Once he’s done it though his smooches are so good. Passionate boy starts soft then HES HUNGRY FOR MORE. Very intense. Kinda awkward with his tongue at first but he gets it.

He’s big on physical touch but it doesn’t have to be big. A hand held is gold to him. Cuddling is just something he lives for.

Cannot handle alcohol so you’re carrying (or organising others to) carry his ass home. Super sappy and happy drunk. ‘I love… youuuuuu’. A crier too. He just feels extra hard.

Get a couple into him though and he dances like no one’s watching. Actually not half bad until he starts stripping. Only you can stop him. He’s too obsessed with you to care about anything else he was doing.

Makeouts on the couch are BIG with him. Won’t take it further until you ask. Gotta be a gentleman. Yes even when his hands are squeezing your ass.

Ennoshita Chikara

The type to silently indulge in his crush every now and again while FIGHTING and PUSHING those feelings down.

At least, that’s how it is at first. He will be your friend first so he doesn’t want to compromise that. Just let’s pretend we don’t feel that for now shall we?

As if he could hold that back. It takes a while but it’s not long before something pushes him (he’s afraid of losing you) and he’s spilling his feelings.

He may be spilling but he’s seems like he’s confident with the monologue that comes out of his mouth. When he finishes his eyes are just wide and staring at your shoes. Evidently he was not so confident.

Grab one of this clenched fists. Pull his chin up to face you. Tell him you feel (maybe not in as many words as he did) the same way.

‘Are you sure!?’ ENNOSHITA PLEASE.

Honestly takes a while to accept it but once he does he is noticeably on top of the world.

Doesn’t announce it to the world but once people asks he’s smuggly like YEP WE ARE INDEED DATING peasants. Like damn Ennoshita.

A very caring and protective guy. Lets you do your thing while watching your back from the sidelines. Will punch people for you but won’t let that slip.

Very much a words of affirmation, tease and quality time dude.

Will go with the flow but will absolutely take charge.

His first kisses are those cute gesture ones. A kiss on the cheek, a peck on the lips or a smooch planted on the forehead.

You gotta grab this man by the cheeks and just plant one passionate kiss on him. That leaves him frozen for a second and then oop self control gone. MAKE OUT TIME.

More of an alone time physical touch guy but will break that when he’s particularly ehem into you. Or if some jerk thinks they can pick you up.

Plants one on you while maintaining eye contact with said jerk. Or places a very in your face arm around your shoulders.

Very much a big spoon guy. It just makes him feel protective. Also kind of like he’s leeching your hair warmth.

Pretty chill sleeper. Once he’s out he doesn’t move much. Sometimes you wake up facing him and he’s blowing air in your face (sleep breathing).

Kiss his nose and he’ll scrunch it in his sleep and let out a soft ‘mmm?’ But doesn’t wake up.

Tanaka and Ennoshita poly

You’re all in a relationship. Tanaka and Ennoshita included. Their crush on each other goes back a while they just never wanted to admit it.

You coming into their lives kind of makes it easier. Well eventually.

Once they realise they both have a crush on you both of them want to be the better man and let them have you. (Even if a small part inside them is screaming for the opposite).

It’s up to you to set them down and be like ‘nah uh I’ll have both’ and then also set them onto the path of realising they also like each other. It’s a very eventful week.

Ennoshita is still the big spoon. You’re the middle. Tanaka is either little or wrapped around you like a Koala. Depends on the day.

Ennoshita is the wrangler and kind of takes charge when he needs to. Tanaka is the passionate but also softy. It’s up to you whether you want to continuously go with the flow or take charge every now and again.

Just imagine sitting on the couch between them and taking turns making out. Start with Tanaka then come up for air and turn to Ennoshita. He’s a bit more intense when he’s second, handsy too. Then sit back and watch them kiss each other.

Every now and again you get home late and find them either cuddling or asleep in each others arms on the couch with some movie playing in the background.

Ennoshita brings his (grand) movie collection to the relationship. Tanaka brings his home gym. You tie it all together by hyping up both.

[saintsenara]

I know you responded with a meme, but if you're able I'd love to hear your thoughts on harry/hermione 👀

fine. i'll scream into a pillow periodically and get through this...

obviously, i don't actually find the concept of harmony sincerely upsetting - people shipping things is never that deep, and because, as i've said before, i subscribe to the principle that any pairing is possible if you just have enough nerve. i've been recommended some harmony fics by people who are fonder of the ship, and while i've not found them immediately compelling, i do appreciate that there are plenty of people who disagree.

but my feelings are basically the same for harmony as they are for dramione: that it's never done interestingly.

harmony is - like all hermione pairings except [broadly] romione - a breeding ground for fanon!hermione, who is perfect and flawless and so clever she can solve millennia-old mysteries in afternoon. i hate this version of the character because i find her boring - it's just standard self-insert stuff, which is fine but not something i have any interest in reading. i similarly dislike the version of harry who appears in these stories, who ends up - like all men in hermione pairings except [broadly] ron - being either this impossibly sophisticated and suave intellectual with the body of a greek god or a doormat who's happy to shut the fuck up forever and do whatever she says.

[i also hate - obviously, since he's my king - the way harmony stories are often even more egregious than dramione ones in writing ron as a cruel and violent misogynist who is ontologically indistinct from your average death eater. and i think it somewhat proves my point that neither of these ships work particularly well that this character assassination has to take place in order to make them plausible...]

and i think the flattening of harry and hermione's personalities within most harmony is the main thing which keeps the ship from being interesting. because - while i certainly don't go in for the common anti-harmony argument that harry actively dislikes hermione - it's undeniable that there is a lot about the two of them which wouldn't be conducive to a harmonious [lol] relationship.

their communication styles - hermione works through problems by debating them, harry prefers not to be challenged - are the obvious one. their ways of expressing affection - hermione shows people she cares about them by nagging them and meddling in their lives, harry very much does not - are another. they have extremely different views about authority, they decompress in different ways [harry is someone who clearly needs to keep physically active to clear his head, hermione is much more of a homebody], and harry's impulsiveness is a poor match for hermione's fondness for planning.

they are also similar in ways which would cause them to butt heads. both have a tendency towards obsessiveness, which they rely in canon on ron pulling them out of. both have a significant capacity for cruelty and extremely black-and-white moral codes - harry has a tendency towards forming judgements on people and situations based on whether they are people he likes or things he benefits from [i.e. how he's appalled by dobby's treatment because his masters are the malfoys, but doesn't give a shit about kreacher's because his abusive master is sirius], while hermione tends to regard any rule-breaking she does as justified even if she'd regard it as outrageous from anyone else [i.e. her fury over harry appearing to use felix felicis to improve's ron's performance at quidditch when she herself confunded cormac mclaggen to get him onto the team...]. both have a tendency towards giving people the silent treatment when they're angry. both are incredibly stubborn...

and so on.

obviously, they also have positive qualities in common too - a shared loyalty, for one - but it always seems to me that the standard move in harmony is for authors to completely ignore these conflicting traits, either really over-egging what makes harry and hermione compatible platonically in the books or just inventing similarities [especially intellectual ones] to justify the pairing. whereas i would much prefer to see just how difficult it would be for harry and hermione to fall and sustain being in love with each other, and i've never seen that done compellingly.

but the conflict i'd love to see explored in harmony fics most of all, but which never seems to be acknowledged by fans of the pairing, is that [despite the fanon slander that ron is the person who behaves poorly towards her] harry is often horrible to hermione and hermione is often scared of harry.

this is at its most profound after ron leaves the horcrux hunt in deathly hallows, but we see several times throughout canon that - if ron isn't there to mediate between them - harry often treats hermione in a way which can be considered downright cruel. if she criticises him in a way he considers unjustifiable, he tends to side with other people against her [ron in prisoner of azkaban over the firebolt; ginny in half-blood prince over snape's textbook]. if she tries to reason with him he often beats her down with the force of his emotions [i.e. when she tries to get him to think about whether his vision of sirius in the department of mysteries might be a trick] or his convictions [i.e. when he lures her into near-death by being certain that nagini is really bathilda bagshot], and she often ends up having to soothe or appease him when he's the one who's screamed at her.

hermione is also scared more generally of harry's experiences - she's by far the least amenable of the trio to talking about voldemort [even though she says his name earlier than ron does] - and mission, which puts up a barrier between them which will be difficult to bring down post-war. i think there's something which could be really interesting there - the most interesting dynamic in hinny, after all, is when harry and ginny's tendency to not actually be honest with each other is explored - but unfortunately at the minute that sort of character work is drowning in a sea of "ron is so stupid and harry and i just love talking about classic literature, come darling, put on your leather trousers and let us solve world hunger; i look like emma watson" nonsense.

dull!

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: Kafka Hibino has healed my 7-10 page writing affliction and he's working on healing my soul. Not really. But woudn't that be nice?? Anyway. Just more cute shit and me daydreaming about this strapping 32 years young buck.

C/W ::: Don't freak out people, but I used my imagination here 🖐️🌈 (from SpongeBob?? Anyone remember that episode?) Anyway, I'm not sure if I should be concerned that I'm writing such happy, cute stuff or if I should be concerned that it took me so long to get here. Whatever. There is nothing to watch out for unless you hate that gross cutesy romantic shit some couples do (I hate that stuff, but this is Kafka - and fiction - so it's ok).

WC ::: Less than 800 (I KNOW)

He didn't know what to do with his hands. He'd never really been in this type of situation before and he didn't want to do something stupid. Something he thought was stupid … and worse yet, something he thought YOU'D think was stupid. So, he just left them there, on the couch, at his sides.

Kafka was so amazed that he'd even landed a girl like you in the first place that he didn't want to jinx it. So, he just stared at you, his eyes wide with adoration and wonder. He took in your every feature and memorized every curve of your face. He wanted to remember this moment forever.

He didn't want to ruin it by doing something that would be a dead giveaway of his lack of experience.

"You're … you're so beautiful, y/n. Gah! 'M sorry, I keep saying' that, don't I. I do. Don't I? Sorry."

You giggled, your nose brushing against his warm cheek. "Yeah, you do. But it's ok. I don't think anyone has ever called me beautiful so many times in a … well, at all, maybe. I don't mind it." Lifting your left hand, you cupped his chin and turned his head, so he'd be face to face with you. "I think you're really handsome, too, Kafka."

"You do?!" He all but yelled out. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, and his heart skipped a beat. "I-I mean, um … thank you. I'm not used to being called that either. Usually, people just say I'm cute or funny, but never handsome. But if you think I am, then … I must be. Right? You're way smarter than me."

"Well, that's not true. You're very smart, too, Kafka. Sure, not about traditional things. But that just adds to your charm. Truly, you have a very extensive knowledge bank of things most people will never understand."

He smiled shyly. "That's sweet of you to say."

"It's true," you insisted. "You're one of a kind, Kafka."

"You know, there are so many things I want to talk to you about. Like, there's this new episode of [show name] that came out last week, and I just had to see it. Did you know that--"

You pressed a finger to his lips to stop him from rambling. "Let's save that for another time, ok? Right now, I'd much rather be doing this." Kafka's eyes fluttered shut as you leaned in to kiss him softly. He'd never felt anything so gentle and sweet before. It was like a dream that he never wanted to wake from. You were just so perfect for him, and he couldn't get enough of you. He never wanted to let you go.

But he just couldn't shut up.

"Have you ever seen that show? I mean, it's so cra-," you kissed him again hoping to gently get the point across that you wanted his lips to be moving, just not in that way.

Kafka nodded knowingly and apologized. "Yep! Sorry! Zippin' it up righ' now!" He motioned with his fingers to fasten the nonexistent zipper on his lips, and he tossed the key.

You tried to reach out and catch it in time, but, in your head, the fake key landed behind the tv and now it wasn't anywhere to be seen.

"Kafka, I didn't mean to zip it completely. I just … well, I don't wanna talk in words with you right now. I want to teach you another language. I'll be right back." You smiled down at him and held his outstretched hand until the two of you weren't able to reach the other anymore and went down the hallway to your bedroom.

"Yeah! Yeppers. I'll just … I'll just uh, oh! I'll find the key while you're back there!"

When you came back, you turned the corner to see the man actually looking behind the tv. "Kafka, what in the world are you doing? What are you looking for?"

He stood and faced you, "Hm? Oh! The key I threw earlier. I need to unzip my lips so I can kiss you properly." The smile on his face was like no other you'd ever seen. It had an air of confidence with an underlying anchor of uncertainty that seemed to be holding him back a little.

"Ok, I see. Well, just use the key you already have to do that. Aren't 'body keys' universal?" You gestured for him to come sit back down on the couch with you.

"Key? I already have another key? And uh, what's a 'body key'?" He scratched his head and tilted it like a puppy trying to understand its very first 'sit' command.

"Yes, Kafka. The one to my heart. Here, let me." You pulled your hand out of your pocket and unlocked his (technically already open) lips and kissed him. Deeply. "Now, don't lose this one, ok? I don't have another one and if you look closely, you can see that this is the kind you're not allowed to make copies of."

@supersecretsaga @darkstarlight82 @southside-otaku

@arlerts-angel @reiners-milkbiddies

@katkusuo @kazutora-kurokawa

@trevengersprincess @bakubunny @viburnt

Just tell me if you guys don't want to be tagged in Kaiju No 8 stuff and I won't anymore. (I think I've said this a couple of times so I'm probably not gonna give you another out ;) )<3 Thanks!!

[pluralprompts]

I am not a system, but I have many friends who are and have researched specifically DID due to having those friends. I'm curious your opinion on me writing these prompts - as I don't intend to invade a space intentionally made to provide positive content to communities that I'm not a part of.

Firstly, you can do whatever you want forever, so jot that down –

Okay, okay. On a serious note, I think it's fine. Some disagree with me, especially when it comes to DID, but I don't think someone has to be a system, have any specific disorder, or be of/have any particular identity to write about these sorts of things. I am much less concerned with the identity of the author than I am how the character of a particular identity is written. That is to say, I am interested more in variety of plural and system representation, especially when it comes to positive or optimistic views on our lives*, than I am worried about whether the one(s) writing that representation are plural or a system, too. I care more about if the author is making a well-intentioned effort than if the author personally knows they're a system and openly identifies as one.

* I am comparing, of course, to the two main portrayals of systems in fiction: that we are evil (serial killer trope), or that we need to be fixed (fusion treated as the inevitable, and only, way for us to recover and live happy lives). There are ways to approach these tropes that avoid simply perpetuating stereotypes or disableism, and I would hate for anyone who relates to either to be told they cannot read or write about experiences similar to their own, so I am not saying these should never be written – but at the same time, with these being so prevalent, and so often without nuance, I am naturally more interested in fresh takes that show more pleasant sides of plurality, or at the very least more relatable struggles, than just more of the same.

With this in mind, I don't see singlet writers of plurality as an enemy. Rather, I see any inclusion of plurality in creative writing – from a simple OC kept to oneself, to a poem shared with a writers' group, to a bestselling series – to be normalizing plurality, introducing the concept to some and serving as a reminder of its existence to others. I'm someone who finds representation to be very important to progress, and thus I consider anyone who offers respectful** representation to be an active ally to plurals and systems. I would rather have a singlet writer make some mistakes while creating representation because they don't have personal experience with the subject than have less representation overall; if you're willing to write a character as a system, I'll be glad to see more representation out there.

** When I say "respectful", I don't mean it has to be sanitized or perfect. I just mean that it's done with research, and avoids relying on stereotypes, treating us like a horror trope or, again, like we inherently need to be "fixed" by final fusion – by becoming as singlet-like as possible. Again, looking for good intentions, here.

Besides, people who are presumably singlets will keep accidentally writing systems anyway, regardless of what I think. Seriously, do you know how often I keep coming across this? Sometimes I just sit and wonder how many of these authors are plural, and how many of them know it. Especially considering how often writers describe their characters as "acting on their own".

And on a similar note, I don't want anyone to feel pressured to out themselves as a system in order to write about plurality (especially considering writing about it can be part of someone's questioning journey). I've seen how that's gone down in places like the queer community (*cough* harassing authors into coming out even when it may not be safe for them to do so *cough cough*) and am not interested in repeating it here. You do not have to tell anyone if you are a system – and you do not have to tell anyone if you are a singlet. You have a right to privacy about your identity and what goes on in your life, no matter the subject matter you write about.

In the end, these prompts are for anyone who wishes to write about plurality. Or even wishes to write in general – I'm well aware that many of these prompts would work for settings in which everyone is a singlet! If you want to write them, you're welcome to. If you mess up, that's okay. It's pretty difficult for even systems to write about what it's like being us, sometimes – you won't be alone in that just because you're a singlet.

(On that note, there are plenty out there who would be happy to give more specific advice if there's any particular details or story beats you want feedback on! Cannot recommend @writing-plurals enough for this.)

Thank you for the ask and for your interest in writing about plurality. I wish you luck in whatever it is you're looking to write!!

TL;DR: it's fine lol don't even worry about it, just try to avoid stereotypes and negative tropes about us, and maybe ask around for a plural beta reader or sensitivity checker if you're worried.

[gingerylangylang1979]

Does Carmy die in the end? Don't hate me.

Ok @thoughtfulchaos773, here's the post.

I've been thinking for a while that Carmy may die in the finale. I may not be able to write this post as intelligently as it deserves but here it go.

You know how shows tend to end how they begin? The pilot begins with Carmy on a bridge with the bear in a cage. This is a dream and seems like a final showdown with his nemesis/alter ego. They are about to battle and then a car horn and swerving sound breaks the dream state and Carmy wakes up in his reality. We also get a scene of a body in a morgue. We assume it's Mikey but what if it's Carmy. We also hear voices from Micheal as if him and Carmy are in the same realm.

All throughout the show driving is a theme. It always seemed noteworthy to me because it's a show themed around cooking. Why is driving so important?

In "Hands" there is a lot of emphasis on who can drive and who can't. In "Dogs", there is confusion on where Cicero lives. Cicero later discusses a dream about Carmy's dad driving and what seems to imply Carmy is the little boy flying forever in the air. Sounds ominous. Syd names her catering company Sheridan Road. In season two Carmy and Claire make random trips out to the suburbs and needing a ride is central. Why do either of them really need a ride to do these errands? Donna crashes her car into the family home. Syd tells Richie to drive friends and family night.

Now back to it all coming full circle. There has been a lot of speculation of Carmy leaving for a different career or not. If we fully accept that he doesn't leave by choice, he could leave due to death. Why does everyone from the health inspector to Mr. Sirsky (sp?) confuse Carmy as the dead brother?

Carmy seems to be gradually handing the place over and disappearing but it doesn't seem to be conscious. That would make him seem suicidal like Mikey. But it's not that, he has no idea he's setting up his departure. He gives Tina the knife. His new whites have his initials in san serif white font, not the pronounced blue cursive, like he's a ghost. Syd's scenes parallel his as if she is meant to take over. He tells her it's her ship and I'll dial business you are everything else. Syd and Carmy are often shown in ethereal light, like Mikey looking back at Carmy in 1.8. Do they both pass on and Syd is the new hope/destiny?

And then, again there is the reference back to the pilot if this all comes true and full circle. Anybody who watched Six Feet Under gets it. I always found these two stories very similar. In the pilot Nate (Carmy) has an aneurysm. We kind of forget about it because the story shifts to him coming back home as the prodigal son and the whole family dealing with the death of the patriarch and the passing over of the family business. The brother who stayed (Richie) is resentful. He stayed. He didn't really want to be a mortician but it was how he stayed close to the family and tried to bond with the dad. The business is in shambles and they have to "change the chemistry" to make it work. A new talent (Sydney) comes in that makes it all better and offers a different perspective. I won't go into the entire plot but in the end what happens? Nate dies. Aneurysm. Full circle. This is often how shows end. There are often clues.

My theory is that somehow Cicero and his dad tie into some sort of trip to the suburbs. I honestly think Cicero is Carmy's real dad. I feel somehow this will come to light and he makes a trip to see one of them. Why was Carmy confused about where Cicero lives? I don't think that was a throwaway line.

Does Carmy die in a car accident in the suburbs?

I may have left out a few things but I dunno, thoughts?