#im planning on doing the rest of the cast at some point too

[phiklimz]

combining my timeloop interests to increase tragedy + no bg under read more !

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Caught Under the Mistletoe

♡ featuring: nanami kento x reader

♡ synopsis: alone on christmas, you spend the night with your equally lonely coworkers. of course, your office crush nanami kento wants to party, too. he's a mystery, yet you can't help wanting to be around him. with a little help, can you beat the odds and finally confess?

♡ wc: 8.0k

♡ tags: fem! reader, jjk au, office au, misunderstood nanami, friends to lovers, corny gojo (as usual), praise, switch nanami, whiny whipped needy nanami, lots of overstim, manhand|ing, öral (f!receiving), mäting press, nanami cums quick, multiple órgasms, basically vanilla

notes: im almost a month late for my christmas fic i am sooo sorry! hope everyone had a happy holidays. did i finish this fic or did this fic finish me? who knows :P comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

“Hey, watch your step!”  

Gojo barely catches your calf before you trip off the chair you’re dancing on. You fail to realize your heels are sinking into the fabric. Fortunate for him to be there—the tipsy girl isn’t doing herself any favors twirling on a spinning office chair, but liquid courage has its perks. You’re narrowly balancing a drink in your hand—plain whiskey—while Gojo attempts to keep his swishing in the short glass. His efforts must’ve looked like a game to you, because you’re giggling and patting his arm as if he were an exaggerating child.  

The rest of the office is in an uproar, loose paper scattered about and documents gone unfinished. Some dancing, others chat over burgundy wine or dark liquor. There’s an awful Christmas song playing in the background, but most are too drunk to hear it. You can almost listen to jingle bells above your belligerent assistant manager addressing his qualms about the boss in a haughty manner; ivory shirt unbuttoned, gut spilling out of his too-tight pants as he raises his glass in protest for a pay raise. The two usual troublemakers you seldom speak to are having a concerning amount of fun with the copy machine and their bare rear.  

You’re not without fun though, pencil skirt straining on your thighs while you jump and sing an unrelated song bouncing around in your head. If your boss were here, heaven only knows the trouble you’d be in. Luckily, he isn’t here. Every year, your boss took paid time off to spend time with family during the holidays.  

The other losers with nothing to do spent their Christmas at the office.  

Sometimes you spent so much time at the office you began to consider it home. And so you’d bring a little piece of home with you, holding a high spirit for the holidays. Red and green festivities kept the joy alive, regardless of the depressed groans and sighs you became accustomed to during shifts. You’re still young, still somewhat hopeful about your future career. You put your heart into decorating the department.  

Well, you and Nanami, of course.  

“Santa’s little helper” is what you called him, to which he adjusted his glasses and begrudgingly agreed. He agrees to most of your plans, unless they involve outrageous pranks or a possible HR violation.  

When he first arrived to the building, he exuded such a quiet energy you sometimes didn’t notice him on the clock. When the lights dimmed for the day, and you strolled past his cubicle, a bright blue light casted long shadows. His silence was almost intimidating, and though most people made it a point to avoid contact with him, it felt unfair to you. You made it a point to get to know him, even if it were sometimes overwhelming or tedious—popping your head in during crunch time or offering him a snack. He eventually responded in kind. Not the kind that spoke out of obligation, but genuine respect. You haven’t learned much about him since you met him, and he won’t openly indulge, but you make attempts anyway.  

You’ve been messing with him the entirety of December. More ‘elf-on-a-shelf’ like, leaving mysterious Christmas trinkets for him to find in his cubicle. A tiny Santa here, a gnome there, gag gifts hidden in his metal drawers. You still remember him opening his briefcase to find a small porcelain reindeer standing up on his folders. And let’s not forget when he sat down after a water break and instead of a whoopie cushion, a traditional Christmas song reverberated across the hallway.  

You’ve both done well, spending too much time after hours putting a tree up, blossoming with multicolored ornaments and shapes in no particular theme. Garlands with waxy red berries hang from the fluorescent ceiling lights and removable winter decals are stuck on every wall, next to the inconvenient rainbow bulbs. 

Nanami denied the addition of a mistletoe, to your utter dismay. He truly embodied the little helper role, tending to your every request with an accompanied sly comment or concern. Unfortunately, it didn’t subdue the increasing feelings you already have for him. Within your delusion, you’re even starting to believe he might be flirting with you—ridiculous, right?  

If stone-cold Nanami were flirting with you, you’d probably die on the spot. There’s no chance though, and you’re fine with crushing from a distance. At least that’s what you’ll tell yourself to maintain a friendship.  

He makes it hard, though—incredibly hard. It’s difficult right now, as he leans against a wall away from the crowd, teal button-up taut against his torso, wearing a Santa hat at your request. Nanami, who regularly keeps up with his appearance, looks somewhat disheveled from the alcohol.  

You’ve finally learned something about him; he can’t handle his liquor.  

He won’t show it, but while he maintains the same stoic expression, strands of hair hang over his somber eyes, and his glasses aren’t perfectly perched on his face. The buttons pull at the fabric, and he heaves heavy with his sturdy arms folded underneath the chest, bunching his spotted tie. The light makes it worse, catching on the veins peaking from his skin. You could trace every tendon corded around his forearms, thick hands swirling a shot glass. It’s smaller in comparison to his palm, and you watch his fingers trace the rim of the glass. They look delicate and manicured, but equally rough. How they’d study the curves of a body, snake around a lovers head as he pulled them close. Wrapping his fingers around-  

“You’re drooling” Gojo blurts. You snap your head to him, and he laughs heartily before smacking your back. “Shhh-tt!” You wave a hand over his mouth, but the wide grin he’s sporting goes beyond your reach. He gets in close, not bothering to cover his mouth for the gossip.  

“Go tell him.”  

“Wha- hell no” you shake your head, stepping down from the chair nursing your dwindling drink. You refuse to hear the absurdity he’s proposing. “Why not? Perfect night, ain’t it?”  

You throw back what little is left in the cup and set it on a random coworkers desk. “How so?”  

“Christmas Eve. Lots can happen, y’know?” He presses his hand to the sides of your head and turns your attention back to Nanami.  

“Lotsss.” You swat him—luckily Nanami was engrossed in the contents of his glass. “Fuck you” you whisper, semi joking. He laughs. “Cmon, me and the guy are cool. Let me wingman.”  

“No.”  

“Why not?”  

“Why would I ever let you wingman when you can’t even get a date yourself?” He clutches his chest, feigning pain, “Ouch!”  

“I’m fine with us just being friends, okay?”  

“Pfft, clearly not. I just caught you eye-fucking him.” You roll your eyes, shooing him off mid-conversation. Gojo may be right, but it couldn’t happen today. It wasn’t worth confessing, especially with his gift tucked away in your bag. Life would become too complicated too fast.  

You’ve sobered up some from the harsh reality of your situation. Being sober sucks. However, you’ve neglected to check on Nanami since the party started, and now might be a great time. You walk in his direction, steering your eyes from Gojo’s smug expression.  

Nanami catches you approaching and nods, sleeves busting against his bicep. His brown sugar eyes are half lidded, and a light glow dusts feverishly over his ears and neck. His chiseled bone structure appears gentle with a pinkish blush. You hold your breath, afraid you might divulge the thoughts searing your tongue with sin.  

“How’s my little helper doing?” you ask, leaning against the wall beside him. Your bodies ghosts against each other, never fully touching, always in two separate worlds. You don’t expect his gaze to follow you, and you’re slightly surprised when you turn to him and he’s staring.  

“Pretty good,” his voice permeates like fine bourbon, deep and intoxicating to your hazy ears. He speaks in his usual rigid manner despite the drink. You could listen to him talk forever—embarrassingly so, as you got written up for talking frequently in his cubicle. “All thanks to Santa.”  

“I’m glad. Did he get you everything you wanted for Christmas?” you smile.  

“Yea. She did.” She. You brush it off—a slip of the tongue. It’s hard to trust what a tipsy person says, anyway. You press your nails to the corners of your mouth and pull upwards.  

“Then be happy!”  

“I am” he responds. Blunt. You sigh dramatically.  

“Hmph. But you never smile.” He watches you close, and your nerves cause you to fiddle with the paneled pattern on the glass. So much for wanting his attention.  

“Would you like me to?” There’s no humor in his tone. Did you want him to smile? Of course. But you desire the genuine satisfaction of a pure, unfiltered smile. It means nothing if you have to force it out of him.  

You turn your head from him with a pointed nose. “Nope. I want it to be genuine when you do.”  

Facing him again, you accept the challenge, “I’ll get you to smile!”  

There’s a subtle perk in his brow, and faint creases form at the corners of his drooping lids.  

“Oh yeah?” he drawls, an octave lower. It spurs a feeling within you that crumples your resolve too fast. Breath catching in your throat, the air is suddenly stuffier than before. You grip the glass for dear life, attempting to compose yourself, but you can’t when he’s staring at you like you’re the only person in existence. You watch the way his eyes flick across your face; your eyes, then your nose, down to the curve of your lips, moving quicker as they travel down. You swallow thick, unable to avert your gaze, unable to stop the heavy rise and fall of your chest. You must be imagining it. Or maybe Gojo’s right, what’s the harm in-  

“(Y/N)! Get over here and drink with us!” your assistant manager yells from another section.  

It breaks you out of your trance, and you turn on your heels towards the sound, just enough to hide the blush pooling over your cheeks. “Comin’!”  

•••  

The night has simmered into occasional chatter, with most of your coworkers leaving to go barhopping or get a head start on their hangover. The stragglers—a few employees, you, Gojo, and Nanami—packing up to leave.  

You’re throwing your coat over your shoulders, running to your cubicle to hopefully catch the last bus. Before you can grab your briefcase, a flicker of something shiny draws your eye. You pull your drawer open; a miniature snow globe with two fluffy penguins inside wearing festive hats and scarves, flippers stretched as they gather snow. You shake it up and watch the artificial flakes spin in the liquid. A smile unconsciously beams on your face, even more when you notice a yellow note tucked on the underside. You peel off the tape and unfold the post-it note.  

“Your turn  

-Nanami”  

A bland note from a serious man. Even so, your heart feels full to the brink of bursting. You reread the note over and over. You wish you could’ve witnessed big, intimidating Nanami buying the minature from a toy store. Unintentional poker face pointing at tiny penguins. The image sends you into hysterics. Once you’ve had enough of gushing over the same two words, you tuck it in your wallet, a place you won’t forget, and gently put the gift in a safe compartment in your bag.  

You can already hear Gojo from the elevator; he gets loud when he’s drunk, and unfortunately he’s a lightweight.  

“Cmon, you’re taking too long!” he drones, holding the elevator.  

“Okay, okay!” You shuffle inside. You’re a bit sad that Nanami left before you could say goodbye, but you still have the opportunity to give him his present on the next shift. Gojo leans on handrail, button up popped to his stomach.  

“So, no one’s gonna make a move, huh?” He pity’s you in his smug, know-it-all attitude, “it’s so embarrassing watching you two.”  

You have half the mind to refrain from reminding him about when he broke down midday in front of Geto’s house, begging him to take him back. He gets emotional about it. “It’s not as easy as just saying ‘hey, I’ve liked you since I’ve met you. Please don’t think I’m weird’.”  

“Whatever. Guess this must be the life of people with no game. I feel sorry for you, y’know?” You scoff. If anyone has game, it isn’t Gojo.  

“I don’t see you getting laid tonight.”  

“Spoke too soon, sweetheart. I’m fucking a pretty girl after this. And you’re going home,” he peers under his glasses, “dickless.”  

“You’re such a little-“ The elevator dings, opening into the company lobby. Some people are mingling by the sofa. Nanami’s at the front door, putting his beige trench coat on with his briefcase at his side.  

You’re about to step out when Gojo intercepts you, walking ahead first.  

“Na-Na-Mi!”  

“Satoru.” you angry-whisper, trying to grab him. But he dodges your attack effortlessly and glances behind, mouthing ‘shut up’.  

Nanami turns to Gojo, not exactly peeved but surely not happy to see him. They’re two opposites, and you could tell that Gojo quickly got on his nerves. “Hello.”  

Gojo puts an arm around him, and you watch him visibly clam up. “So formal! The boss isn’t here, you can speak normally.”  

“This is how I speak. Also, happy holidays.”  

“Mhm, mhm. By the way, my friend (Y/N) here wants to-“  

“Also wish you a happy holiday!” you chime in, speaking through your teeth. More like screaming, as you try to grab the attention of Gojo’s massive ego, to no avail.  

“Riiight. Anyway, Nanami-“  

“Shouldn’t we all start heading home?” you add, itching to run from the situation. You zip your coat, but Gojo won’t let you go that easily.  

“We should! In fact, Nanami, (Y/N) doesn’t have anyone to walk her home. She lives far, and you know how dangerous it is for a woman to walk alone at night.”  

You feel your eye twitch. You might actually kill him tonight.  

“I’ve got a date tonight so I can’t do it. And I know you have nothing to do so-“ Nanami side-eyes him, then turns to you. For a second, his gaze seems to soften. You smile, mostly as a silent apology for Gojo’s rambling.  

“Would you like me to walk with you?” he asks kindly.  

“…If you don’t mind.”  

“I don’t mind at all” he’s quick to retort.  

“Great! No time to waste then!” Gojo proclaims. He brings his other arm around you, guiding both of you out the sliding doors and into the cold darkness dotted by frosted streetlamps. He steps back from the throuple and brings Nanami close, practically smushing you together by the arm.  

“See ya!” he waves.  

Nanami surveys the path, giving you ample opportunity to glare at Gojo. He never cared, dopey grin on his face as he mimics a sexual act with his hands. Then he walks in the other direction, leaving you to deal with the situation he created. The bus is long gone.  

“Are you ready?” Nanami says, directing you to the inside of the sidewalk.  

“Yea, let’s go.”  

Snowfall cascades in blooming white sparkles amongst the icy sky. It drapes the parked cars in sheets of powder, and the tips of your shoes in frost. The solid breeze through your pantyhose creeps into your bare legs. Cold, but not uncomfortable. You luckily brought earmuffs, but Nanami isn’t as fortunate. Checkered scarf draped around his coat, you can’t tell if his ears are red because of the chill or tipsy after effects. He looks at you, unaware of the red patch on his nose.  

“Sorry about Gojo” he says.  

“Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”  

“If you’re too cold, I can call you a taxi, instead.”  

“No worries, I’m fine. Are you cold, Rudolph?” you snicker.  

He unconsciously touches his nose with pinkish fingers. “Is my nose red?”  

You stop in your tracks, “Come, I can fix it for you.”  

Nanami obeys and kneels down to your height, eyes fixed to the concrete gradually collecting more snow. Flakes dance around you, towering amongst his hair and sinking in the woolen scarf. You gently bring your hands around the fabric and loop once around his neck. Your knuckles graze his winded jaw in the process—soft and cool, a bit of stubble you barely noticed. You tuck the fringed end pieces into the loop, close to his nose where hot breaths warm your hand. The back shimmies over his head in a balaclava style to hopefully shield him from the icy onslaught.  

“Done. You should get warmer now.” He stands straight with a soft mien. Nanami always shared an easy stare. Yet the same easygoing stare now causes your face to burgeon unimaginable colors.  

“Thank you.” The ghost of a smile sweeps his lips, so quick you can’t decide if it’s a fluke or not.  

You continue treading through the snow, hands stuffed in coat pockets, legs stiffly shuffling together to preserve any heat. It’s quiet for some time—you’re afraid you’ll overstep. In-depth conversations weren’t often had, and you’re unsure of how to proceed without being pushy.  

“Is work getting easier for you?”  

“Yes. The workload is manageable and I’m making good progress with reports this month. I can get ahead of next month’s fiscal documentation.” Refined and straightforward. A natural born salaryman.  

“You’re always talking about work” you glance at him, “I’m curious, what are your hobbies?”  

When he doesn’t speak, you immediately go into damage control. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal.”  

“I bake…” he mutters, a discovery that persists in the space. Nanami is the last person you’d expect to enjoy baking. You half expected him to reply with something mundane like filing taxes. It warms your heart to imagine him in an apron pressing cookie dough through gingerbread molds. He had that endearing quality about him.  

“Really? What’s your favorite thing to make?”  

“Double chocolate chip cookies.”  

Your mouth gapes, “Wait…remember when I stole those cookies from you on your break? You made those?” You recall the confectionary treat and the way it melted in your mouth. You practically stalked his lunchbox for days hoping he’d bring more.  

“Yes.”  

“Oh my god, they were so good!” you chirp, “why didn’t you say you made them?”  

“…I’m not too confident in my abilities yet.”  

“They were amazing, you should be proud” you say, gazing up at him. You’re suddenly hyper aware of the lack of space between you two—arms brushing, shoulder leaning on him a bit. You’ll tell yourself it’s because of the cold. Just this once.  

“If you enjoy them so much, I’ll bring some next time.”  

“I’ll hold you to it.”  

He gives you a faint nudge, calling your attention. He doesn’t seem bothered by the extra weight on his body. “And what do you like to do outside of work?”  

“I read a lot. I write occasionally.”  

“Any specific genre?”  

“No, not really. I’ll read anything if it interests me.”  

“I’d like to see what you write sometime. You have a creative spirit.”  

You recognize it clear as day. The upturned curve of his dry lips, wrinkled eyes sweet and gentle in the dim amber lighting of a street lamp. Freckled by the reflection of steady snow, they appear sparkling as they bore into you.  

“Thanks” is all you manage to choke out.  

“I didn’t know you walk this way.”  

“‘Cause you’re always doing overtime”, you hesitate before you add, “you should give yourself a break once in a while. Take care of your health more.”  

“It’s nothing to worry about.” But I’m worried. It’s meant to be reassurance, but reassurance can only go so far when there’s noticeable eye bags. You step in front of him, spinning to make eye contact.  

“Before we split, don’t go. I want to give you a present.”  

“You don’t have to do that.”  

“Of course I do! We’re friends, aren’t we?”  

Nanami sighs a laugh. “Yes, we are.” He holds the sides of your earmuffs, pressing them tight to your head. Almost as if he’s ensuring you don’t get too cold. “I feel bad now. I haven’t gotten you anything.”  

“That’s okay. Walking with me is enough.”  

“Then could I walk you all the way home?”  

The answer leaves your mouth before you can think, “Sure!”  

You pause, deliberating on your urge to extend the invitation. Nanami regards you closely, watching the minute muscles in your lips twitch as your words come to fruition. You avert your eyes. If only he knew the effect it had on you.  

“It’s p-pretty cold out here. Maybe if you want, you could come inside. Just to like, get warm, y’know?”  

Something flashes in Nanami’s gaze. Brief like other times, yet this one feels darker—full of incomplete emotions you’re not ready to decipher yet. He’s generous with smiles tonight.  

“If you’ll have me.”  

Back at your apartment, you’re fishing for the key in your never-ending purse. You’re somewhat thankful for its disappearance since it gives you time to compose yourself. You’re hoping the state of your home is acceptable to his standard. You hook the key ring under your pinky and pull it out.  

The door, embellished with a Christmas pinecone wreath, creaks open into the narrow entryway. 

“Please come in.” He obliges, following after you as you drop your bag on the cluttered hall tree. You’re too distracted tucking your shoes properly in the rack, aligning them meticulously where it doesn’t count. Then you notice his footsteps came to a halt.  

Unlucky for you, you forgot about the shiny object you’ve had dangling at your entryway since December arrived. It slips your mind sometimes when it’s so out of reach, inches above you. But for Nanami’s height, it draws his attention instantly.  

A pine and cedar mistletoe sprouting red berries hangs from the ceiling by a red ribbon. Meant to be a joke for Shoko when you smother her in excessive love. Meant to complete the other holiday decorations littering your apartment.  

What it wasn’t meant for, was the impulsive invitation to your crush. You stare at it, to which your eyes wander to Nanami, also staring at it. He’s lingering, then he looks at you, amused grin tugging at his lips.  

“Uh, ignore that!” you stammer, a nervous tick in your tone.  

“Were you expecting someone?” He’s already removing his hat and scarf.  

“No, it’s just a silly joke between me and Shoko.” He watches you intently. You have to get used to the laidback version of Nanami, for the sake of avoiding a heart attack.  

“I can take your coat!” you divert, but he dodges your grasp. “No need. You’ve had a long day.” He places it on one of the pegs.  

“Well, make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything to drink?”  

“I’m fine for now, thanks.”  

You quickly scuffle to the kitchen. A tall glass of water to subdue your pounding heart. It’s the fault of your own body, psyching you up to believe that for a second, Nanami might be reciprocating your interest. In a way, conversing with him was easier when you had no expectations, no indication of “like” on his end. You aren’t even sure what like means from his perspective.  

When you leave the kitchen, he’s sitting on the couch, legs spread with an arm resting on the back of it. He shifts in his seat, beige slacks taut on the fat of his thighs. You run to grab the cyan felt gift box from your bag and return to the living room.  

Plopping down, it’s pretty cramped for the span of two people. It's not this crowded when Shoko comes over, but what did you expect when Nanami’s wingspan is twice the size of yours. With your back on the armrest, your knees are inches from his.  

You hold out the box towards him. “Here you go, I hope you like it.”  

He grabs it, feeling the material. Then he glances at your giddy face before opening it. It displays a polished gold chronograph watch with brown leather trim. The ivory velvet interior contrasts against the gold-toned dials, and he marvels it with shock.  

“This was expensive” he says, examining the sub dials like fragile glass. It definitely was, and you did a few overtimes for it, but you won’t tell him that. “I hope you didn’t go through any trouble to get this.”  

“You deserve it. You do a lot for everyone. And you’ve tolerated my nonsense all month.”  

“Thank you isn’t enough for something like this. I’ll do what I can to repay you.”  

You splay your palm. “Aht aht, don’t even think about repaying me.”  

“I’m covering your lunch for the rest of the year” he states, matter-of-fact. You don't correct your touching knees. 

“I won’t let you.” A chuckle escapes through his nose, features softening along the edges of his chiseled cheeks. 

“Then how about those cookies?”  

“…I’ll take that” you beam, “and, I want to be your test subject for any desserts you make in the future.”  

“Whatever you want.”  He slides the watch out of the display and gives it to you. “Would you like to put it on?”  

You unlatch the gold buckle and align the brown straps on his wrist. Fine blonde hair covers his forearm and you couldn’t fit your hand around his wrist if you tried, but you manage with two. “It fits perfect.” 

“How’d you figure out my wrist size?”  

“Remember when I asked for your help with a friend’s surprise gift?”  

“Ah, so that was a lie?” he grins. 

“Just a little one.”  

“Lying's bad for company morale.”  

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not at work right now, huh?”  

“Mhm.” Nanami reaches for his tie, drawing it loose with a finger. “Very good.” 

You slide your shoes off, perching your foot on the other one before sliding that one off, as well. There’s a numbing pressure eating at your heels. You rub the balls of your ankles, persistent aches from the nonstop dancing you’ll sooner feel tomorrow.  

“Does it hurt?”  

“I should’ve taken my shoes off when I danced” you sigh. 

He pats his thigh. “Let me help.”  

You blink. Once. Twice. Does he want me to...? You don’t have the heart to question it. Not when it’s working in your favor. 

“If...that’s okay.” You’re startled a bit when he immediately scoops your leg and hikes it over his thigh in a single motion. You stare at his solid, vein-woven hands encompassing the surface of your ankle.  

“By the way, I don’t ‘tolerate’ you. I had fun when we were decorating.”  

“Oh, really? It didn’t seem like it, haha.” You’re nervous laughing. Between the small confession and the affectionate thumb swaying back and forth, you’re flustered beyond belief. 

“I look forward to our conversations. I’ve never thought of you as a bother.”  

You’re sure he’s talking at this point. You know he is. Yet, the series of firm, delicate touches along your ankle dull your ears to everything besides the sound of rough pads moving rhythmically along nylon.  

“…Do you give massages often?” Nanami doesn’t look at you, transfixed on catering to your calf. He’s passed your point of soreness, traversing up your leg for the massage. His kneading sends your skin aflame. It’s a fervent intensity that starts at your trembling voice and ends in an embarrassing mess between your thighs. You can’t bear to meet his face. A pinkish tint to his knuckles, brushing the back of your thighs and scaling higher. 

“No. I’m practicing for you” he says, breathy and caught in a sharp wind. That’s when you notice his wrinkled collar, buttonholes straining from his tight breathing, and a burning glow poured over his ears and neck. His touches grow impatient, out of sync as if he’s trying to dig under the material to palm raw skin. “I’ll owe you more in the future.” 

The watch reflects bright in the headlights of your Christmas tree. Like you’ve laid claim to him. He’s wearing you on his arm.  

“You look great.” He pauses, finally turning to gaze at you. His glasses are off center, and his eyes—blooming and almost black—crave a certain unsatiable hunger, gnawing at his stomach with a feast just out of reach. He wouldn’t dare eat without permission. 

“It looks great…on you.”  

“You look great too” he whispers through a clenched jaw. Your breaths mingle in the space, thoughts going unsaid while somehow tainting the air with insistent need. You can't stand it. Can’t stand the way your thighs clench, searching to stave off desire. 

Nanami parts his chapped lips, then closes them. He swallows nothing, Adam’s apple bobbing. Restless. 

Every little action he performs elicits a sense of longing once buried in an unattainable sector of your heart. 

“Hah…please don’t look at me like that” he says, tense and on the verge of begging. 

“Like what?”  

“Like you want me.” It leaves his mouth. Another confession, syrupy and coated in a deep desire, pulsing in the very core of you. He relieves a shaky breath, a ticked jaw struggling to relax.  

“I do.”  

Nanami’s restless demeanor shifts fast, and the air he’d been saving escapes him entirely. He smoothly tucks his grip under your knees and pulls you close. You settle on his lap, chest to chest, hovering over him. Noses ghosting, threatening to concede. Boiling heat coils in waves in your gut, and your heart skips across your ribcage. He’s equally flustered, if not more. You feel the heavy bulge prodding your tights, enough to earn a muffled sigh. 

“You’re giving me false hope.” 

“I want you.” He places a hand behind your neck, another trailing up your curves. 

“Say it again” he mouths into you. They’re soft, languid with your own. You caress his face, enduring the way he tests your lips, nudging just to pull back. 

“I want-”  

Before you can finish your sentence, he crashes onto you. The well-mannered Nanami you knew stalks your tender lips with unbridled yearning. Chasing your mouth as if you’d vanish if he released. His lips turn slick from a succession of sloppy, uncoordinated kisses and you’re nearly suffocating. He doesn’t falter, though, choosing to devour your moans, your body, anything relating to the idea of you. He attempts to be gentle with the pace of a lover—but judging by the way he hurriedly hunts your mouth when you part for air, he’s missing the mark.  

His hands snake over your waist to the fat of your ass. Fondling through your clothes, you feel the true nature of his grip as pillowy indents fill the space between his fingers. You’ve found purchase in his golden locks, carding through his hair to pull him impossibly close. You’re light-headed, drunk off the pressure of his kiss, his touch refusing to leave your body. The only thing separating your embrace are the tiny moans and whimpers that follow them. Your body betrays you, clenching around nothing like a virgin having her first kiss.  

You’re both huffing once you break. Nanami licks his lips, savoring the taste, a crude groan beneath it.  

“You give me mixed signals” you pant.  

“Then allow me to make it clearer.” He throws his glasses to the side, skittering somewhere on the floor.  

Nanami dives back into your mouth, gliding his whiskey-singed tongue against yours. Unrefined, messily exploring your mouth in a manner of wet smacks. The sound goes straight to your sticky underwear, and you’re shifting uncomfortably in his grasp, to which he holds you sturdy on his lap.  

“Don’t go” he whimpers, drawing a fleeting breath. Blown-wide pupils bore into you, “I need you.” He licks a stripe up your tongue, allowing a trace of drool to slip amid you as he smothers you in French kisses. His mouth is hot, laden with a dizzying mix of alcohol and zeal, yet he cups your cheek lovingly. You’re slinking under his shirt, fumbling with the fasteners until they pop. Your one-minded focus ignores the buttons scurrying across the rug to enamor his ample pecs, flushed and plump in tandem with his husky build. 

You’re alternating against each other’s tongues, neither one of you willing to depart. Gorged on the whimpers you evoke as you cradle his plump chest. 

“Darling, please” he whines. 

He guides your ass along his aching bulge, stealing a satisfied moan from the depths of your mouths. You’d mistake it for a thermal water bottle if it didn’t twitch. Back and forth on his slacks, the seam bumps your clit each time you roll your hips, smearing the dribbling mess from your pantyhose. He leaves you to oscillate on the tensing fabric, pursuing a semblance of relief, jolts of frisson enveloping you.  

You withdraw from him to occupy the space on his neck. Splotching rough, spit-soaked kisses in blurs of red to match his tumid lips. He has a pretty, desperate voice, cracking when you suck on his pulse point. “Uhn, just like that—god.” He lets his head fall a little further, steering you in cycles. “Want more of you.” 

When he pulls you up, an evident gloopy trail follows the score of your tights, and you shy away from the scene. He kneads your plush thighs as he spreads them apart, pecks dotted on your cheeks. “Don’t be shy. You’re gorgeous.” 

Nanami supports your lower back while picking the buttons from your blouse. Or at least he’s trying to—his desperate limbs can’t latch on properly, and he inevitably snaps it down the middle. You discard it and he’s instantly on your breasts, licking and biting as he reaches for the bra clasp. You take it off yourself in fear of him breaking that too. 

His kisses linger on the swell, even when he talks through it. “You don’t know how long”, he gradually raises your skirt to your waist, “I’ve been waiting to touch you like this.” 

Nanami takes a nipple in his mouth, circling it recklessly. He indulges in the parts he’s desired for months, indecent with the tug of his teeth on your bud. A lewd stare, misted and still greedy for seconds. And it’s overwhelming; the constant pounding in your cunt, slobber coating your mound with him groping the other. It’s like he has multiple ravenous hands surrounding you, dancing over every crevice he can manage. Consuming you.  

And when the soft moans begin to leave you again, it’s driving him crazy. He picks you up and flips you to lay on the couch. He doesn’t back off for long, only to shimmy his shirt off and rend the belt from its loops. You forget to remove your own clothes, too busy gawking at the remaining attire—a loose tie, sock suspenders, and black briefs drenched in milky precome. He drops to his knees in a heartbeat, sharing a warm smile. Nanami really is adorable, and you’re facing a whirlwind of emotions from the contrast of his brimming underwear, and the hold that manhandles your legs on either side of his shoulders. 

His brows furrow, agitated with the nylon clinging to what he's lusting after. He grabs the front of them and easily tears it into elastic shreds. He doesn’t apologize this time. You aren’t bothered by it—if anything, it removes some of the pressure from your throbbing muscles. He promptly soothes it, wrapping around your inner thighs to feed his hands into the rips. 

“You’re so soft” he moans against the surface just as he paws it. A sigh and he’s immersing his face in the groove of your pussy, smudging open-mouthed kisses over your sensitive clit. The unfiltered contact sends a thrum through your body, though clamping your legs proves futile. 

“Ah, be patient” you joke, playing with his hair. He doesn’t spare a glance, webbed mess coating his lips, a thread from him to you.  

“Can I eat you? Please?” It comes off more like a formality than an actual question as he nuzzles into you, breathing in with a guttural groan. He slides the soaked cotton halfway, full range to admire your dribbling slit. You can tell he strives to pamper it slow, but Nanami doesn't possess the strength to tease or be composed. 

He treats your pussy as if it’s a separate entity from you, indulging and dragging his tongue in long, flat stripes. Nanami eats you for his own enjoyment, eager like a man starved. Slurping and swilling in loud, gratifying squelches. Low mmf’s vibrate against your arousal, but it’s hard to hear when you’re anchored to his face and he refuses to let go. A desperate tongue drinking your heady scent, oblivious to the honeyed fluids sluicing down his chin. He repeats small, calculated licks and continues to treat your squishy flesh like a pliable stress ball.  

“Fuck, it’s s'good—so, so good.” You learned something new about Nanami today: he can curse. 

Nanami embeds his fingerprints in your skin. Toying with the taste of you, stopping to swirl the relentless appendage around your swollen clit. The tip of his nose does part of the job for him. Your utmost efforts rely on the yank of his scalp, knot after knot collecting in a burning surge through your quivering abdomen. Cries croak in your throat, unable to emerge while he’s having a personal, filthy make-out session with your pussy. He fits perfect sandwiched between your juicy folds and he’ll make sure you know it. 

“’M so close” you moan. That’s something he does hear, because he instantly holds tighter, all attention directed to the trembling bundle of nerves. Pleasure builds quick, and when your legs start to shake, he takes that as a sign to delve deeper, sucking aggressively through the shudder. Your body caves and you’re reduced to ecstasy, rutting against his mouth with no control. He gladly accepts in kind. “Nanami.” You’re calling for him, and he hums inside, satisfied as he laps at the spasms. 

He comes up for well-deserved air, sweat sheen from his matted hair to the blonde tufts sitting below his bellybutton. Dopey, glossy grin on his face, he shirks out of the tights and places a kiss on the lips he missed so much. You taste yourself on his tongue. Then you feel a finger glide against your syrupy entrance. 

“Nanami, wait.” He peppers kisses down your torso where he returns to his knees.  

“I have to make sure you can take me, baby.” Another grazes, soaking in your essence with a few languid drags. One dips inside, quickly finding a home in your gooey walls. Tiny aftershocks mimic the slow drawl of a curling finger and you’re keening.  

“Mm, too much.” 

“I’m sorry.” He pumps a tolerable, sopping stretch. Adding a finger, “Be a good girl, okay?” 

You’re clinging to him, sucking him in hopes for more. Your pussy greedily eats it up despite the overstimulated smolder, a melting thump thump that contracts around him. He’s twisting his fingers in a c-shape, looking for little hints that he’s in the right direction, and you’re giving him everything he needs.  

His tender, loving stare settles on you. Lapping at your clit and pumping your g-spot while you succumb to the hazy pressure thawing your head. You’re melting in a frenzy of cries, simultaneously reeling and pleading for him. Nanami’s determined; imbibing the juices gushing from your vulva and tailing the frenetic buck of your hips. 

“Uh, oh shit, right there” you moan, and he speeds up.  

“Yeah? Right here?” You’re nodding nonsensically, whine peaking. Your back arches and he moves to your breast. “Let it out, darling. I got you. Come on my fingers baby.”  

The second he latches onto the nub you’re rendered silent, mouth shaped in an ‘O’ as you come hard around his fingers. He slows, milking your orgasm for all it has, careless of your shaking legs and tears gathering on your lashes. He pecks the corner of your eye, and you’re too caught up in your own sobs to see him lick his lips. 

“Such a good girl for me.” You’re showered in kisses and he rubs circles on your waist. You blink back the tears, meeting tongue and teeth in a carnal exchange. But you’re craving more, him and nothing else. You palm his erection and he groans. You can see the painful print of his entire cock through his briefs, angry tip peeking out ever-so-slightly. 

“Take it off” you whisper. You watch his eyes flicker, a moment of hesitation—you won’t let him. “Stand up.” 

Nanami obeys your command and quickly stands. You hook under his waistband and yank them off. His thick cock stands at attention, nearly smacking you across the face. It’s a bashful red to base, glazed fat head dribbling precome down his heavy balls. He looks like he’ll unravel at any second. You bring a digit to his balls and it twitches. Dragging it up the veiny shaft, gathering his salty mess to spread it over your held out tongue. He stifles a faint shudder. 

“Baby, let me put the condom on.” At least you didn’t have to worry about bringing your own. You wrap your hand around his head, enough tension to be sure he doesn’t find comfort. You rub a thumb over it and his breaths yield shallow. 

“Hm? Why?” you ask, batting your eyelashes as you deliver a small lick. He hitches. 

“D-don’t.”  

“You don’t wanna feel my mouth?” He bites his lip, probably thinking about your pretty face gagging with a mouthful of him. You know the real reason why he won’t, and it’s rather cute that he’d save his release. 

“I-I do. God, I really do. But I-” 

“But what...?” You swirl it once, and he can’t even handle that.  

“C-condom” he whimpers, almost pleading. “Condom...what?” 

“Condom please. Please.” 

“Go get it.” He makes sheepish haste to his coat, returning with a gold wrapper. He’s about to rip it but you stop him. 

“Give it to me.” You tear it open with your teeth and position it over the head. Rolling it over, pursuing it with tantalizing, soft kisses. You feel him pulsing against your lips until you’ve secured the condom at the base. He swallows dry and his stomach recoils on nothing. You enjoy his needier display. 

“C’mere sweetheart” you tempt, luring his body to loom over you. He pushes your legs back and spreads you wide. “I’ll take it slow.” 

His brows crumble, jaw wedged, angled at your pussy. It’s already soaking him and he hasn’t put it in yet. You do your best to make him ease up, a hand placed over his. But as it dips into you, Nanami’s chewing his lip, going haggard before it ever started. He stops completely, an effort to compose himself even when he’s growing stiff and melty at merely the tip.  

“Just g-give me a second” he stammers, and you stay still while he slides the first inch into your creamy, chubby cunt. Stretching and clenching around him in a sappy sluice, he has to pause again, quivering in place. “Fuck-“  

Nanami moves a few inches and his hearts beating out of his chest. Foggy, sensual weight sticks to the edges of his brain and coils in his leaden sack.  

“I-I don’t know if…” A mouthwatering, snug fit, pulling him deeper. He’s grinding the rest in, but every time he gets a little further his throat bobs and he tenses. You’re molding to his length, encapsulating him in squelching fire, and he’s never felt anything like it in his life. Once he’s flush with you, he sighs, beating a fraction of the battle. 

He starts at an agonizing pace. It’s not doing him any favors—now he has to suffer through every sloppy drag, walls committing his veins to memory in a tight, addictive grip. He caresses your face.  

“I’m sorry. Bear w-with me” he whines, and you hold your hand over his. You’re not doing it intentionally, but watching him fall apart is truly a sight to behold—strands glued to his forehead, pussy-whipped fawn eyes lost in your warmth. You guide his fingers to your mouth and deliberately suck on them. Cruel of you, but it’s worth it for his wobbly whimpers, his delirious, thrumming cock. You know he won’t last.  

“No- Haaah, I can’t yet.” His hips lurch, and he holds back yet again. You lock your ankles around his back, giving him no room to fight it. He’s buried deep. “It’s okay, Ken. You can come.”  

Ken. Nanami loses it on the spot, coming instantly in a string of curses and delicate moans.  

“Shit- oh my god. Baby- oh, haa-ah-“ he cries, but his other thoughts spill out of him in soupy babbles. His movements stutter and you still milk him dry. He’s throwing his head back shaking and you gently massage his waist until he comes down. It takes some time.  

“You okay?” You feel him half-flaccid inside, and he’s panting on the shell of your ear.  

“I’m sorry” You brush the hair from his face.  

“Don’t be sorry about anything.” You kiss his forehead when suddenly your legs are being forced back.  

“Wanna keep going” he says, a hint of drool at the corner of his mouth.  

“Take a breather first.” He’s stuck in the irrational corners of his thoughts—every waking idea engulfed in the thought of you. He’s mumbling to himself, beginning to swing his discordant hips again. His voice cracks, body pushed past overexertion.  

“Call me Ken” he whimpers, sticky squelches meeting your bodies in a tangled, milky net.  

“Ken” you whisper, a flirtatious tint in your tone. He’s entranced by you. You’re touching foreheads, and he shamelessly mewls like a slut in your ear through every gooey plap.  

“How long have you liked me?”  

“Since we’ve m-met” he drones, finding a sopping rhythm. “I was scared. I thought- ah- you might not like me.”  

“So, you’ve been waiting for this?”  

“F-fuck, yeah. Ah- feels so good. Even better than my dreams” he prattles.  

You cup his face. “You dream of me?”  

“Uh-huh. Makin’ a mess of this pretty pussy. It’s so much better. So, so fucking good.”  

“Hold on.” He leans on the couch, legs bent on either side of you as he positions you like a pretzel.  

“Need it” he moans, slathered in your cuddly embrace. He’s hardening again, quick, and already skirting an addictive torture.  

He pulls out and drives his sack flush. It knocks the wind out of you, and you claw his back as he fucks with reckless abandon.  

Slurring a plethora of unhinged ‘more’s, he pistons inside, base to head, ass rippling against his savage thrusts. Every vast, violent stroke sends an intoxicating burn to your sweltering cervix. A while film bubbles at his sack where he’s pummeling, jaw slack and doe-eyed.  

Your toes curl, hypersensitive nerves teased and flipped, ruined by his adamant cockhead kissing your g-spot. You’re stretched past your limits, fluttering helplessly around him. His corrupted smile curves against your neck bursting with need.  

“Taking me so well, darling. I might come. C-can-hah-can I baby? Can I come for you?” He’s impossibly fast, funneling whines and nasty slaps. The rabid force bangs the couch against the wall and you’re at his mercy.  

“Mhm, g-go ahead Ken.” Waves of white-hot pleasure fizzle and spark on your skin, and you’re putty with the weight of him bouncing you.  

“Thank you, t-thank you-you’re so good t-to me.” He’s ragged, plummeting to the hilt. Your spasms sap him as he trembles, succumbing to your own orgasm. He grapples heavy, mean strokes, sticky laces bonding his tightening balls. Then he sobs, quaking until he comes.  

He doesn’t pull out. You’re both quiet for a while. On a descent, simply delighting in the comfortable silence. You join in another smooch.  

“(Y/N).”  

“Hm?”  

“Merry Christmas.” You glance at the time; way past midnight. He meets your gaze. After everything you did, you’re worried over one question.  

“Can we get to know each other?”  

He smiles, a kiss to your neck.  

“I would love to.” 

© mooishbeam - please don't steal, copy, or post my work to other platforms :)

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could I ask for a Astarion x Durge!Tav

I've done 2 Durge playthoughs and wish , which ever companion you romance has a reaction when Durge rejects to be bhasls chosen and gets killed but brought back to life by withers .

When the party returns to the camp after they discover she was a mastermind in all the trouble .

she doesn't talk to anyone . Especially Astarion ....She has now taken the farthest away bed from the others and waits for everyone to go to sleep and she would get up and leave kethrics netherstone next to Astarion and she would leave to face orin alone .

But by the time they find her they find her after she defeats orin she's Exhausted and bloody they would get there too late as they would enter the temple and get close to her Astarion and the others would hear her go " I reject "and see her get killed by bhaal. His love , his darling was now gone....he cradles her when withers appears to bring her back .

If this is a lot I'm sorry I got carried away . I haven't found anything but one snippet someone made about this scene . And I love you writing and wish to see your take on this .

Sorry im so late, but here i am. Lete but always coming back at a certain point t.t

BG3 x durge HC When you refuse bhaal

The shock of the new discovery downs on the group only when you return to the elfsong tavern. The room is filled with an unusual tension as everyone follows your movements unsure whether they should trust you or avoid you.

You are silent as you gather your belongings to move, your brain swirling with all the new knowledge as it threatens to overwhelm you.

You move to the bed in the very corner, opposite to where everyone rested, to give them space and to give yourself some as well as you had to reweight the path you followed and prepare for your next act.

It is past midnight when everyone is finally asleep and your plan is finally set in motion. You leave Ketheric’s netherstone on Astarion’s nightstand and leave.

Astarion notices accidentally, the clung of the stone on his nightstand somewhat wakes him from his trance, yet only when it was too late, he realizes what’s going on.

The whole group rushes through the city, quick to reach the sewers and delve deeper into the ravines as everyone is panicking. Whatever you were planning, they knew it was going to be disastrous, and they wouldn’t- no, couldn’t allow it. As much as they were shocked, they still cared about you. Yet the moment the doors of the temple of Bhaal flung open, they were late.

“I reject.” You beamed clearly, not an ounce of remorse in your voice before you quickly turn your head towards the commotion at the door, and you couldn’t help but smile as they all stood there, desperate as you breathed your last breath.

Wyll:

“DAMNED YOU, BHAAL” He yelled as he rushed to your side, his hands quickly reaching around your contorted figure, bringing you to his chest. He pressed his ear to your chest, still arched in his arms, trying to find a pulse, life, anything, yet he was met with silence.

“Shit” He murmurs as he curls on the floor, his arms bound to you as if in a curse. He had to do something. He had saved Baldur’s Gate, slayed dragons, minotaurs, and couldn’t save you, his sweet love.

How many people was he bound to lose? Was he ready to give up his dream of a life with you? No, no, no he wasn’t, so he did what his chest told him to do.

It was almost a cry in pain as he sobbed the syllables out loud, knowing she was already listening. She was always there, he knew it.

“Mizora, do what you do best” He spat as the tears still descended down his scarred cheeks.

“Now, now,  pet.” She tsked sadness in her voice. “I wouldn’t rush certain decisions” She warned, aware of what was going to happen, yet incapable of telling him it was already going to be okay.

Gale:

He is rushing down to the altar, trying to stop the inevitable as he tries to cast a spell, Tiny Hut, as if it could stop a God’s punishment. He should have known better.

“Why did you do it, you fool” He cried out as he sunk to his knees, hopelessly placing his head on your chest to feel your pulse, as if the broken bones were not enough an indication of how dead you were.

The second he couldn’t feel your heartbeat, and he could physically feel your body from growing cold, he couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, soaking your shirt as he clinged to you as if you were going to disappear at any moment, his sobs echoing in the temple.

“You can’t leave me, you understand?” He sobbed as he fisted your shirt and hopelessly tried to shake you awake. 

Astarion

Shit.

He’s running before you can even fall to the ground, oh he wished he had some magic to protect you from the impact with the floor, but he could barely make it in time to see you eyes turn lifeless.

“You can’t do this to me, you idiot, I love you, you understand. I can’t bear to see you like this“ He cries as he hoists you up in his lap, your head lolling on his shoulder.

“I love you” He whispers as his head drops to the side, the tears flooded his eyes as he rocked the two of you back and forth. “Tav, please” He murmured as if just begging would help.

Shadowheart

They say there’s nothing worse for a medic to see their loved ones hurt, their bodies fall to the ground helpless as they can do nothing but stare. They say that you lose all reason, and that’s what she felt like. She felt as she lost everything all over again. She felt just like when she was under Shar’s tyranny all over again.. lost.

Before she could comprehend what she was doing she was on her knees, your head resting on her  thighs as she rubbed her hands together and channeled all her magic in the healing spell. Yet it was not enough. She tried and tried as tears stained her cheeks as, one at a time, they joined her in a circle, some trying to reassure Shadowheart and some already feeling defeated.

But she didn't want to lose faith, she couldn't. She couldn't just abandon her lover when your love had just had the chance to blossom anew. She couldn't give up.

“Where is that sack of bones?” She wailed as she picked up the beaten body. “Someone call withers please” She'd beg desperately until he appeared in front of her, and maybe there was still a chance.

Lae’zel

You can’t be dead, she swears as you break in front of her. She wonders how you do it, to smile one last time as you bid her goodbye before falling to the ground, as your bones split in half yet you hold back the screams. It can’t be.

It takes her one second too long to realize what's going on before she’s at your side. Her hands barely shaking as she picks you up and cradles you to her chest.

“Bhaal, can you hear me?” She asks in the hollow temple. “You have made a dangerous enemy” She swears as she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I will find you and I will slain you” She screams as she does her best to hold back the tears and stop her voice from shaking. “Tsk'in'va” She can almost hear the god’s laughter as she pulls you impossibly closer, whispering in your ear. “I will avenge you, my love”

Karlach

Anger bubbles up in her stomach, as she bolts down the stairs. "you can't abandon me too, Okay Soldier?” For once she fights the rage, she turns the heat into despair as she falls to her knees and envelopes you with her warmth. It was heartbreaking, for so long she was Stripped of love, of care, and once again the universe was against her. “ FUCK YOU BHAAL. If you think you can take them away from me, you are wrong.” She pulled you up in her arms rocking your lifeless body as shadowheart approached you two. “I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND TAKE AWAY ALL YOU CARE ABOUT, You sack of shit“ She screamed in front of the hollow altar that she desecrated with her spit.

Halsin:

Halsin can’t believe his eyes; his body moves as per inertia as he rushes next to you, his arms finding their home around your middle as their usual, and yet met with your lifeless body. He doesn’t care about what happens around him, as your companions take out their weapons ready to fight, he weeps, he prays Silvanus, he holds you as if everything depends on your sweet eyes meeting his again, but he knows.

He knows deep down that Silvanus can’t help him, that his tears can’t bring you back to him, and so he clutches desperately to your cooling body, uncaring if his robes soak in your blood, uncaring if he will break down in front of everyone.

He uses all his magic attempting to heal you, he begs Shadowheart and Jaheira, but neither can help.

The room fell silent when everyone but your companions were alive, the echo of the sobs mixed with the panting as Halsin managed to cast one last spell. The crown of roses sits around your temple delicately as he can’t help but sob louder. So many times he had wished he could stop in a flowerfield to make you a crown, the crown you deserved, yet the only time he was able to give you the flowery circlet, it was as you laid dead in his embrace.

Withers speaks and speaks as Halsin weaves his hands with yours, before placing a soft kiss to your forehead. His tears stained both his and your skin as he can’t help but ignore what the Skeleton is saying, whispering prayers, begging to have you back.

“My love, please, please please” He says under his breath, his eyes are completely drained of tears, his throat is sore, his body aches from sitting on his knees for so long, and yet he doesn’t let go. “Silvanus had just blessed me with you, I can’t lose you already” He cries as he holds you to his chest tighter. Then he feels. The slow beat in your chest, your body fighting to get back in its shape, your chest rising rhythmically as your eyes finally open.

“My love” He sobs as he tightens his grip around your frame. “Don’t do this to me ever again” He nuzzles his head against your shoulders, more tears streaming heavily down his cheeks as his prayers turn to thanks.

“I thought I had lost you forever. For so long I wanted to give you a token of my love and I-” He hiccups. “I failed you, my love”

[shidouryusm]

little universe - gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: in the last hours of dusk you realise how much Satoru means to you

word count: 1.4k

content: soft satoru, way too soft reader, fluff.

a.n - im too disgustingly soft for this towering paintbrush. I will kiss his eyes a thousand times

The summer sky casted an endless blue, painting the skyline with her depth. Somewhere in the distance, the silence of this passing hour was cut by the songs of cicadas. and in the midst, you see Satoru. sitting on the porch, propped against the door.  a hand resting against his cheek as his eyes reach the infinity of the blue ahead of him. 

“toru?” your voice prompting him to break the unsaid staring contest and look at you. You bring your hand, raking through his hair, it’s muscle memory for you at this point. His hair, slightly damp from the shower earlier,was flattened over his forehead, tufts of it covering the cerulean eyes. His hair felt like light clouds drifting through your fingers,holding a softness in it that makes you wanna play with it forever. 

Satoru hums, feeling your touch. a sweet smile playing along his lips as he watches you take a seat beside him.

“you planning something devious? sitting like that.”, gojo laughs– a small breathy laughter, escaping his nostrils. his lips curving into his one sided smile upon your words.“can’t a man enjoy the simplicity of the nature. must I always be doing something”

“well, you aren’t exactly the type to…meditate under the nature, 'toru. it’s natural for me to conclude you’re probably plotting” you slash your hand against your throat “– world destruction or something nefarious like that. I'm not opposed at all though” you shrug your shoulders.

Gojo laughs again, a bit louder this time. his childish chuckle mixing with the buzz of the cicadas. A swarm of giddiness runs down your spine at his unadulterated boyishness. 

“Is this what you feel about me, darling? well, that’s saddening”, his large hand wraps you around your shoulder, pulling you against him, your body flush against the sides as you encircle your arm around his waist, you feel his thumb rubs small circles on your shoulder. Satoru presses a small kiss between your eyes before resting his cheek against you. An act of sheer comfort and tranquility. 

Silence veils over you both once again as you watch the blue sky deepening her shade, encroaching the night’s call. The colour of it resembling your lover’s eyes inadvertently making you look at them.

His eyes holds depth you can’t bring yourself to fathom. eyes that have witnessed acts you wish you could reverse time and undo. eyes that have seen through the uglies of the world that sometimes all you want is to wrap your hands around and protect them.

Yet these eyes hold unbounded beauty. eyes that conveys infinite promises to you. eyes that have never left the glint of mischievousness.

Eyes with so many layers of blue that you could sit down and point them out. Eyes even beautiful than the spread of the sky above and eyes that has left you falling more and more for him every passing day. 

“thinking something about me, sweetheart?” his drawling voice brings you back. His eyes are narrowed at you, eyebrows raised, as he brings his face closer. His nose brushes against your temples, small breaths tickling the skin, while he plants a sudden, sloppy and a rather wet kiss on your cheek. “you wanna go in for some–”

“Toru, that is vile. did you just smear your spit on me” you scrunch your face, touching the damp spot on your cheek where he kissed.

“Why you’re acting like I don’t do it every nigh….HEY OW OKAY SORRY” you pinch his sides with your arm that was wrapped around his waist. Glowering at him before resuming to lean against his chest, “sit here quiet and nicely.” 

“so mean.” you hear him mutter before tightening his hold on you, bringing you even closer. You smile, feeling his head resting against you again, as he releases a contented sigh. 

A waft of wind blows through the front porch. You watch the overgrown lawn swaying along the rhythm. There’s a sense of vulnerability in this moment, with the lingering hues of the fleeting blue hour. You and him. Unprotected yet so shielded within each other. 

Satoru’s heartbeat echos through your ear. The constant murmurs of his heart that is too big for his own good, sends your thoughts to an overdrive. 

His cheeky persona has always masked the care and love he harbours for the younger generation. His countless attempts have always wanted to set apart the world from the raw ugliness that he had to endure. His growth over the years has set himself on the pedestal of “the honored one”. A beacon of hope. The strongest of the Jujutsu world. A one man army to fix every twisted mess of Jujutsu.

But to how many is he Satoru? A raging sweet-tooth who takes drink orders, unimaginably sweeter for a normal human. A guy with a palm-in-the-face dressing sense. Someone who will mess up the bathroom in the mornings.Someone who will purposely use your shower stuff because it feels like you’re with me always. Someone who will pout and jut his lips to get something they want, too endearing for you to stick to your uptightness. Someone who purposely spoils a movie for you if he watched it ahead.

Someone who displays all the pride in the world while mentioning his students as if they are his flesh and blood,often treating them with whatever they demand. Someone who has a laughter ringing like a dulcet, and someone who is just…purely Satoru. 

You raise your head, facing him as you cup his cheek. A little sudden to surprise him but nonetheless melting into the touch. Your thumb rubs the rosy apple of his cheek, while his lips press a quick kiss to the inside of your palm. 

“don’t you get tired, toru?” your voice dripping with earnesty, your eyes pleading him to say yes just so you can say take some rest. 

Your insides points accusatory fingers to the world to make them see him as him. To let him take a break. To let him be his old self.

“I certainly do. I just wanted some sexy time with you and you turned me down. Im tired of being heartbroken all the time, baby”, satoru feigns sadness, closing his eyes with mocking despair. You shake your head, knowing he would avert it. 

 “Toru, you know what I’m talk-”

He stops you mid sentence with an abrupt small kiss, his lips tentatively hovers over yours before completely resting them. His large hand palming most of your face, tucking a hair behind your ear. 

The kiss, unlike every other, held unsaid words. As if your toru understood what you meant and conveys the answers wordlessly through shared lips and breaths. 

He pulls away, tucking your head against the crevice of his neck,his hands tangled in your hair, “I have you, my sweets. You may be a little obnoxious, leaving my heart into pieces, but having you is enough for me. more than enough if possible” his soft voice resonates in your ears.

Your throat feels lumpy at his words, arms tightening their hold on him. His admission filling a gap in your heart you never knew you had. You understand what he meant. The world may be oblivious to this side of his, but you aren’t. 

The vulnerability that he pours out to you singles you out from them. The rest may anchor themselves on him, but he rests on you – forever will. A piece of his youth has still remained and it is cradled safe in your hearts. Away from the world, forming a makeshift universe – holding just you and him.

He may be the strongest to the world but he was Satoru to you. The messy haired teenager you somehow managed to fall in love with. The haughty second year who grew into an individual filled with love bigger than the sky and compassion touching ends of the universe. It was your Satoru amidst the “honoured one”

“Well, you’re stuck with me now, no matter how much obnoxious you find me. You dug yourself a hole with this one”, a kiss plants against his chest, right where his heart is. right where the unbroken universe of yours resides. 

“Oh did I? how unfortunate of me”

As the last light of the fleeting evening hides under the blanket of nightfall, you make a promise to safeguard this Satoru away from the broken world. 

oh to kiss this dumbass between the eyes and keep him in my pocket

oh tagging @stsgluver because baby said so

[jackie-mae]

with your outfit drawings for the mystreet character. im so curious about with vylad having outfits for s2-s6, if you want can you expand upon on that?

I WOULD LOVE TOO >:3c

Long and Short of it is I've always hated how Vylad was there in Mystreet S1, PDH S1 and then he just... dropped off the face of the earth after that. It always irked me a bit when it would show Garroth and Zane having brotherly bonding moments (and trauma) and always having the thought of (Man wasn't there a third brother in all this?) there in the back of my mind.

I'm now going to do some little bullet points of my Vylads role in S2-6 but this is a great time to mention I've never seen past S4 so I'm running on Wiki Lore and the gospel of AO3 and @catzgam3rz; who collaborates (Read: Infodump and Ramble) on a hypothetical rewrite with me so it gets vague and murky for the later seasons.

S1:

Basically the same as canon (as in S1 is kinda just slice of life) but instead of Vylad just travelling around the world he is an off the grid hunter that wanders the wilderness all the time (The freak)

This is based on my very fuzzy memories of MCD Vylad always kinda just being in trees as he watched Lady Aphmau in the early seasons so I just put Mystreet Vylad in trees for fun this time

Has a vaguely similar relationship to his brothers as in MCD. in the sense it's better with Garroth and more strained with Zane

S2:

Goes to LLP with the rest of the main cast (which consists of the 11 big designs I made) because season 2 is not when you should be writing out characters Jessica

He wears little rainboots and unlike Laurance (Who FYI wears cowboy boots a majority of the time) the rest of the cast did not get him into flip flops before he went trudging into the ocean (again a freak)

I like to imagine that if any drama is going on in the story you could always see him floating around on an inner tube off in the distance

S3:

Again back to slice of life so he does a lot of shenanigans with the cast here

This is the season where the shadow knights feature but for the life of me, I cannot remember if Vylad was officially a part of them or not (And his Wikia is not even a paragraph~) But if it turns out he was there'll probably be more shenanigans around that.

He ends up leaving mid-season (Fall ish?) to go on a hunting expedition

S4:

Oh hey look Vylad is back because we don't believe in writing characters off with little rhyme or reason Jessica

Vylads hunting expedition ends up being in the same area as the lodge. and we all know nothing bad happens there!

there's now a little ski village downhill from the lodge which is where Vylad is staying at seasons start. He's good friends with a lot of the people there.

He's a werewolf now... Don't worry about it!

Oh, what's this? Is that relationship building between him and Zane on the horizon? Well, that won't hurt at all, will it?

AY:

A not-alone buddy comforts his not-alone buddy (I do not know much about Aphmau's Year but know it's short so that's all I got)

S5:

As he is a part of the Lodge crew he gets to go to Starlight!

Possibly is involved in a certain shenanigan with his brothers I'll be posting a comic about that in a few days

Get's lost constantly. Figures Starlight being an island means he can't really get lost since he'll hit ocean eventually and refuses to acknowledge how big said island is.

Doesn't float around like in S2 but you can still find him wading on the shore in his boots

being a hyperattentive freak, he get's some bad vibes from the island sooner than most

S6

Gonna be honest, me and Catz have not watched all of When angels fall but are planning to soon so I'll just leave you with the fun fact that all of my season 6 designs are supposed echo my MCD's designs for the characters (Since S6 is when it was decided hey maybe Diaries is really important here now)

TLDR: Vylad was shafted in Mystreet so I'm fix it

[causeimcrayzeebee]

have you seen the kamimura lore drop and what are your thoughts?

ohbmy god this could’ve been so embarrassing cause i hadn’t seen it yet and was so confused as to what you meant so I was planning on just yapping about kamimura in general but then I saw it LMAO UM I WAS SO HAPPY CAUSE KAMIMURA CONTENT!!!!! KAMIMURA LORE!!! AND THEN SO FUCKING INCREDIBLY SAD FROM IT LIKE....THAT'S GORE... THAT'S GORE OF MY COMFORT CHARACTER.... um yeah I have work for law to do but I got too into reading the lore drop so lets talk about it! (I will get to my work after trust) spoiler warning for chapters 1-3 and tetro typical trigger warnings!!! take care of yourself!!

I am not going to cover the ableism portion or too much of the diagnosis/hospital parts because I am not personally disabled and would like to let other disabled people talk about it, so i'll leave the rest of the conversation to others in the community!

also i took notes while reading it to organize my thoughts like usual (im so bad at putting words together well). some of these are kinda funny so here are some highlights lmfao

alright, now lets actually be serious.

firstly, I'm so glad that kamimura at least had a good childhood. I think it really shows in the way he interacts with the tetro pink cast that he was a sociable and happy kid! my mom actually teaches preschool so shes taught me a lot about early childhood psychology (shout out to my mother guys!!!!!). one of the biggest takeaways I've had from her is that the first five years of one's life are the most important in development! that's what Montessori programs keep in mind and throughout preschool and early kinder, they take time to establish learning through play; a lot of people have the misconception that letting kids play at school is just letting them mess around, but it's crucial in building their skills! kids learn to socialize with others and to problem solve; that foundation is very important for everything else moving forward in life! I could rant about how preschools need to utilize this more, esp in the American education system, but I digress. my main point goes to something I (and a couple other people I'm not original in this LMAO) have mentioned before about how it makes more sense out of hasegawa and kamimura, that they'd kill off kamimura because he had other people. kamimura, despite having further and further cut himself off from the world right till the end (until the kg at least), still managed to make meaningful connections, like tamba and hayashi, even if they weren't like ideal. the way he approaches tamba is very caring in a way that can seem like it's not, yk? likely it stems from his trust issues, it's scary to put your genuine real feelings out there, so hiding them with some snide remarks is easier. luckily, tamba has a similar approach so hey. shout out tamba n kamimura you will always be special to me.

anyways, its both so amazing and so heartbreaking that his parents were so loving and supportive, but died too soon. I do wonder about the role of attachment in this case; like specifically in babies/toddlers, they get attached to their parents usually because that's the first person they see, the first to take care of them. kamimura was able to get that love and support from his parents, even when it got so much harder and the days in the hospitals got longer. so having it all be taken away when you're NINE? that's obviously gonna destroy you, and that leads to his trust issues and isolation. he was able to thrive still as a young child because he had his parents to support him! so when that's all gone, how else are you supposed to cope?

yeah fuck you family friend, that was brutal. I cant even imagine coming home from school to find your parents absolutely desecrated. the day of his parents death beginning the routine of staying locked in his room.... oh my god like what if I cried (I did). that probably changed the way he thought about his room; his room was an escape from the horrors of the outside world. if he just stayed in the room, he wouldn't have to experience the fucked up world. it became a habit. EUGAHHD I'm in shambles.

after the murder of his parents, it's understandable that it shook kamimura and his aunt to their core. that was a violent murder (by a man who was literally just rejected romantically.... its so fucking upsetting that that is a common crime). his aunt wasn't even ready to have kids so having the responsibility of taking in kamimura must've been a lot. In regards to homesick, despite the very clear distance in their relationship, kamimura really seems to appreciate her being there, even if it was very distanced; she was still an important part of his grieving process and his whole life honestly.

oh boy here we go. isao when I catch you istg..... sorry that's an exaggeration, likely this was from a societal disgust, yk just homophobia from the world, so I cant really blame this kid too much.... but we still have beef. god, this was one of those actually crushing crushes, hm. it's so fucked up; someone who was starting to get kamimura a bit out of the dark space that was his life, giving him something to enjoy and be happy about! and all of that was just thrown away because kamimura was vulnerable and shared his feelings. not having your feelings returned can already be devastating, but this? the spread of rumors, the bullying, the losing his one friend? it's like the world wants to torture him omfg. here the trust issues become worse; those who loved him leave, those who he loved leave. everyone just leaves, so what's the point?

this explains his relationship with hasegawa, and the issue after trial 1. it had to have felt way too familiar; telling someone he was fond of vulnerable information, only for it to be told to a bunch of people he never wanted in his fucking business. however, I think the reason why they made up rather quickly in clean up crew (which btw I watched w my friend earlier today bc I got them into tetro........ god I love that episode) is hasegawa's response. hasegawa, unlike isao, is remorseful, he CARES. hasegawa even shares something personal to him, about his own loss.

I think this also changes the scene of hasegawa coming out a bit. before, he was rejected by isao because he was a homophobic douchebag. but in the student spotlight, hasegawa casually says he's not into girls. while its funny thinking that kamimura was having some gay panic then lmao, I think actually it was probably processing that in a confused comfort, not exactly because his feelings could be reciprocated, but for this; hasegawa was so comfortable with coming out as gay, so comfortable with the concept, unlike isao. if kamimura confessed his feelings to hasegawa, and were (somehow) not reciprocated, he likely still wouldn't have ran away. of course, with kamimura's trust issues, he probably wasn't confident in that assumption, but hasegawa is not the kind of person to drop someone because they confessed to them. he would've kept the person that had become so important to him. and because of that maybe, just maybe, kamimura would've said what he really wanted to say if the interview had happened before woodshop.

once he's on his own and moves out, he no longer has someone reminding him to do things, so with no motivation to simply live, he ends up staying locked in his house like we've seen before. what's the point in anything? when that kind of spiral hits you, and you don't have other people present in your life to keep doing, how would you ever stay motivated?? I know it was a really informal post, so I might be going insane trying to add this to the analysis, but the repetition of 'but life goes on' I think really solidifies the importance of a support system. when things are difficult, the world never just stops, it keeps going despite your struggle. but having people who care about you around you can help make each day easier, they can help 'slow down time' if you will. kamimura has gone through an amount of stress no one should have to face, but people around him could have made it easier on him by being there. that's the tragedy of tetro.

it's especially tragic that at the very end, right before the kg, he was taking his own life.

(plot wise, I need to know what y'all theorists think of this bc I have ideas but i need to finish the staffside logs before I can even actually consider my thoughts lmfao.)

sorry to be captain obvious on a majority of this post lol but gosh wow. I really loved that we got this, it was so much information I am kinda stoked despite basically all of it being depressing as hell. tetro has really become an inspiration for me and writing, I am constantly so impressed by von's writing and it's given me perspective on how to approach writing as a whole. i feel as though this gave me so much perspective on kamimura himself as a character. some of this just confirmed my ideas already, but it strikes me as something so human just learning all of this. when I, or anyone really, first meet people, I only know surface level things, yk cause I don't know them. but then I start talking to them, and I learn about different things that have happened to them, how they feel about certain issues or what they're doing on a day to day basis. you can never know everything of course, but when you discover new parts of someone, it makes them more complex and they don't fit the idea you had of them before because people are complex!! and that's the beauty of writing, capturing humanity! the impact of each character, esp kamimura, has been so beautifully done, I'm just constantly moved as the story progresses.

thank y'all sm for reading my excuse to talk about kamimura, this was A LOT of blabbing I'm so so sorry but I hope you enjoyed haha! :)

[itz-pandora]

Can we know more about Amy?

Honestly in whichever au u wanna ramble about im just curious how you have her characterized and her role!

I'm actually gonna talk about my main AU Amy bc she's the most planned I have and tbh it's so hard to characterize her. I'm just gonna ramble about what I have bc her personality is not cemented *cries*

So! Amy is introduced in CD as this quirky fortune teller girl. She uses tarots and time stones to predict people's futures. Metal Sonic kidnaps her so she can help him find the rest of the time stones, and she eventually helps Sonic beat Metal by helping him predict Metals movements by using the Time Stones. Gives her some foresight. After that, since Sonic is just around for the New Year's celebration, Amy shows him around so he can immerse in the culture. Amy's infatuated, but still genuinely fond of Sonic.

Amy comes back in Advance 2, when Cream (who she was babysitting) got kidnapped. She tries to help with her new hammer, but it gets broken and she's unable to continue fighting alongside Sonic, but she's not giving up. Her and Sonic become more like friends. (Start of her character arc)

Then Riders, where she's Sonic & Tails' teammate! I don't have many specific plans for this tho

SA2 does be SA2, still haven't rewritten in detail. Probably characters casting Amy aside only for her stubbornness to make her put herself in harms way (just to be the one who SAVES THE DAY. twice?)

She's besties w Gamma & Cream in heroes but idk the plot

Skip to 06, she's a very good moraled character for Silver to learn from. She's the one who makes Silver realize that Mephiles is using him. Amy ALMOST DIES but Silver helps her get away. Amy still wants to help Silver, but Silver doesn't want her too because it's too risky for her. He doesn't want her to get hurt.

Another skip to Unleashed. Amy wants to help out, but she's constantly brushed aside because this is serious. Amy gets upset, and ends up being corrupted by Dark Gaia (would be a boss in game lol). Once Sonic defeats her, she breaks down, feeling awful for hurting him and getting in his way. She just wanted to be strong, she just wanted to help. She apologizes for being weak. Not even Dark Gaia could make her stronger. Sonic just hugs her, telling her she never needed to be strong physically. Her passion and kindness were always her strength. This is the end of her character arc! But she helps Sonic fight off dark Gaia minions since she's able to now! (Lil dark Gaia residue allows her to be able to do it)

Then another skip to Forces! She's one of the leaders to the resistance, but that's because she's good at encouraging people. She's moral support, so people want to listen to her! She's also takes care of Tails bc Tails doesn't take care of himself.

Basically, stubborn, passionate, and kind. She had an infatuation with Sonic that became genuine feelings over time. She has a crush on him, but that's not the point of her story, hence not needing mention. She just wants to help.

[atrophiedemotion]

hey Cast! uh so this ask is about. alien stage. but imma send you another about some random shit because why not. anyways

the tags that you had on that previous post with me and plip (the one about ivan and till and how they show honesty differently and how we know about their characters a different amount because of how forthcoming or not they are) and my question for you is, how many of Ivan's actions do you think are representative of his true emotions? I don't think his body language, in general, is very forthcoming but I do agree that his actions can be pretty revealing (he strikes me as an acts of service person especially with trying to escape with Till) but uh yeah I'm wondering if there are any specific examples that you think of as being revealing of his actual thoughts or specific examples of him pretending to be someone else?

thanks for listening to me yap uh I hope you're doing well and that you have an awesome day!

rock... oh boy... this is gonna be a long one. wonderful question. thank you for the ask, i hope you have a great day as well!!

so, i didn't fully explain in the tags because i didn't want to write a full length essay on plip's post (ty plip for dealing w the rambling)(i was also very tired so i wasn't fully articulate lmao) but i meant that ivan shows his emotions through the outcomes/projected outcomes of his actions. he certainly isn't very forthcoming in the way he acts and portrays himself, but there is undeniable truth in the intent and meaning behind everything he does, even things that seem counterproductive.

i think that since ivan genuinely cannot fully be upfront and honest (due to trauma, his lack of self worth, and his decided survival strategy) his main truths show in the deeper meaning of the things he does for other people and himself. with ivan, it is all about intent. i've said before that the only way to understand ivan is to dig deeper and this is very much true here. he uses a lot of subterfuge to throw people off from his actual intentions, but they're there.

ivan often uses unconventional, roundabout ways to achieve his goals/get what he wants- especially when they mean something to him. he is a guy who is caked in layers upon layers of meaning only if you pull back the acres of curtains he's covered them with. he doesn't want people to know what goes on in his head, so he covers it up valiantly. this is due to his low self esteem of course, but also full on survival. in order for his plans to work, no one can be in on it. no one can know what he's thinking. all of his true feelings and thoughts need to be hidden in order to achieve success, but in the end it's fucking hard to not leave a trace of your true feelings.

with all that being said, examples!

the biggest and most obvious examples are mainly related to till (of course they are) and i also feel like they're the most telling. ivan's teachers specifically pointed out that he was only childish around till (they were relieved by it, too, because he was so damn serious the rest of the time and didn't behave like a child should). ivan has the hardest time hiding his true emotions around till, which makes sense, because till makes him feel the most emotion when his are always dulled. that doesn't stop him from going the 'i must hide my crush by pulling his pigtails' route but, y'know.

since most of these are talked about frequently and i dont want to keep beating a dead horse in an already long post, here's a (hopefully) brief list:

-the biggest one, the meteor shower. going through all of that to escape with till, specifically during a meteor shower that it seemed ivan was desperate to show till (to introduce his shooting stars to each other or smth im sure). ivan offered till freedom and denied himself of it when till turned around and he followed him back without question.

-his good behavior can arguably be considered to be due, in part, to the perks an obedient pet gets. this isn't just a till thing but ivan's obedience is very telling of his need and drive for survival, which considering his uhh,, track record is likely largely so he can protect till. gaining perks and learning insider information, like how to take collars off and gain access to isolation cells, assist him in assisting and caring for till.

-the sometimes silent companionship they share. the way ivan will poke at him to get his outright attention but is still at times satisfied with just existing in till's space and enjoying his presence says a lot about his genuine adoration and admiration of till

-his sacrifice. i don't think i need to say much about this as it's pretty self explanatory lmao but it is a Great example of what im trying to convey. ivan does honest things and has to cover them up at the same time. the 'violence' was to end the round of course, but it was also kind of like a familiar bandaid over the painfully honest feelings he conveyed with the kiss. even if he didn't really hurt him he couldn't just be honest

there are definitely more (most everything he does in regards to till tbh) but i wanted to talk about some others too

the comic conversation with sua about her sacrifice! such a big one. ivan's feelings about sua are very complicated, but to me i feel like he cares about her to an extent, almost pitying in a way. he's horribly jealous of her and the love she has, but he sees so much of himself in her that what he says in that conversation is probably at least half projection, even if he's not aware of it.

the way he looks at her without trying to hide his distaste feels like the way he would look down on himself. the whole thing shows not only his disgust with himself, but his anger towards someone who is so similar to him that she makes the same plans in her head even though she has something he believes he'll never have. it's envy, tried and true, and he doesn't even hide it at the time. he hides the self loathing behind it, but still. that might be the most honest we've seen ivan aside from the end of r6.

that conversation also does kind of show the fact that he cares for sua and mizi. sua in a way he acknowledges less to himself, but certainly mizi.

and speaking of mizi, my last example for right now is the way he watched round 5 like he was barely holding it together and sort of did his own recreation of it in round 6. the strangling was reminiscent of the way mizi lunged at luka and he almost certainly got the idea for his method of sacrifice from what she did. it kind of feels like an ode to her, in a way. an ode to mizi while offering himself up for till, which. is very sad but almost a little sweet, that he had a piece of mizi in what he was doing for till.

okay okay im sure i could keep talking about this but ive been writing for. a long time LMAO so i will stop here but! yeah. ivan shows his emotions inadvertently through his actions and about fifty levels of subterfuge. but it's all we get, so...

thank you for the ask again my dude, i really enjoyed answering it!

[whatwedointhecraft]

Little Shop Of Chaos: The Basic Plot.

This is the basic plot, I'm still working on the more detailed outline with all the backstory and stuff with the rest of the crew

Its under the cut so you dont get ya dash clogged up.

I know quite a few people are interested in this so Im tagging a few of you

@bardic-tales @moremysteriesthantragedies @glbettwrites @watermeezer @seastarblue

@pluttskutt @thorlokibrother @holfelderwrites124 @stripesysheaven @lordkingsmith

Gordon is Mr Mushnik Leighton and Cillian are Audrey and Seymour Toby is just a friend/ customer Chaos/ Cain is the abusive boyfriend Orin

So the initial plans for the story is, is that Gordon will have stopped being a cop because of money problems and wanting to find a different path in life and he settles down on Skid Row, with the dream of selling flowers. He knew Leighton and Cillian from his time on the force and after they all fall upon money problems, they all decide to work for each other and Leighton has been secretly seeing Cain for a couple of months, an abusive boyfriend who regularly beats the shit out of her.

Cillian has always had a crush on Leighton, never done anything about it until Gordon trusts him with the plant that should be called Audrey 2, will be called Leighton 2 instead and good fortune seems to be coming their way.

Gordon soon realises that his brother Cain, is the abusive boyfriend of Leighton and plots with Cillian and Leighton 2 to get rid of Cain. We get some backstory on Cain and Gordon finding each other again after the fall

Cain, the god Chaos, was cast out of the kingdom of Insomnia and Heaven and Hell by the Angels that overthrew him, made him mortal and obviously the fall to earth, hurt him. So now he had to get a real job as a dentist and is addicted to drugs and all that.

They manage to get rid of Cain, with Gordon apologising to his brother, but they’ve worked too hard to lose everything now and Cain gets fed to the plant after overdosing on painkillers anyway.

Leighton 2 is growing bigger by the day. Gordon finds out through Leighton 2, that Leighton 2 was sent by the Angels and Demons of the Kingdom of Insomnia to take over the world. Gordon tries to warn Cillian, but is promptly eaten by the plant and all that remains of him, is his jacket.

Leighton is worried about everything that has happened and is wondering if its her fault that everything has happened recently and confides in three of her friends, who point out that Gordon has been trying to get Leighton together with Cillian all along, despite the five year age gap. Leighton wonders where Gordon could have gone and starts trying to find her old boss. We get some Leighton backstory, about how she and Cillian first met and the jobs they used to do and how much money they used to make and all that

Toby, a friend of Gordon cannot find him and promptly starts an investigation into Gordon’s disappearance and ends up at the shop, where he finds Gordon’s jacket. He tries to fight back against Leighton 2 and is also promptly eaten.

Cillian has lost the plot trying to keep up with everything and keep sane and soon comes to the realisation that Leighton 2 is the problem, and tries to convince Leighton to escape Skid Row with him and leave for Ireland. They start planning their future when Leighton 2 starts mocking them, and reveals everything that has happened so far. Leighton 2 tries to take Cillian, saying Leighton deserves to live and watch as the plants take over the world, but Leighton bravely tries to stop Leighton 2

The ending: Two things could happen

Leighton could die trying to save Cillian, and both get eaten by the plant and Leighton 2 takes over Skid Row and then the world OR

Leighton manages to kill Leighton 2 with Cillian’s help and they flee Skid Row, going to Ireland and spreading the word about the crazy plants and ultimately either living happy ever after, or Leighton is raising her and Cillian’s children in their home in Ireland, when someone gives them another plant as a gift, the same plant that Leighton 2 was

[bookish-bogwitch]

an ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

thanks for tagging me @wellbelesbian!

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s): Basil Pitch's Diary. It's literally my only WIP.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___” Bridget Jones's Diary + Carry On = We Love Baz, Just As He Is

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it? Internalized homophobia, gaslighting, self-hatred. 😬

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)? I never considered an alternative title to BPD, but the one that comes to mind now would be a huge spoiler. The alternative title to the next chapter is "I Fortunately Know a Little Magic," which is sassy and snappy (R.I.P. Howard Ashman) but less thematically relevant than the title I chose.

5. ⚠️Which WIP your most likely to finish or update next? Basil Pitch's Diary. Literally every other fic I've ever posted has been while "taking a break" from BPD, which could go on indefinitely if I let it, so I am bound and determined to finish this fucker before starting something else.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as) I have a list for BPD called "Chapter Checklist." It contains subtle insights "Baz is an UNRELIABLE narrator."

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP. Here's Baz and Dev in ch. 7:

“Will you stay for dinner?” 

“Can’t. Dev and I…”

As Niall told me about their plans I grabbed one of the football’s nylon loops and let Rusty tug on it as we walked. It seemed too late for Niall to have a date all the way in London, but what do I know about dates.

“Come with us,” said Niall. 

I grimaced. “No thanks. I’ll catch up with Dev when he’s not on molly and climbing down your throat.”

“You don’t ‘catch up’ at Beast Night. You dance.”

“With whom?”

“Men.”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP. I just looked in the trash folder of the BPD Scrivener project and found this note I don't remember writing:

Renée Zellweger would play Baz. People would be skeptical but she’d fucking nail it. Gaining weight for a role? How about growing eight inches, sprouting a happy trail, and joining the legions of undead. (Might as well cast Oscar bait.)

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet? A Watford-era get-together magickal mishap involving animal transformation and beloved children's literature. So, you know. The usual.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on? Just the one. @facewithoutheart and I have a secret side project going that involves back-and-forth writing and it's stalled out on me. It's very fun and silly and I plan to return to it when I need a break from some of the angstier parts of BPD.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now? I'm not working on any one BPD scene right now, but trying to map out the rest of the fic in greater detail so that I can roll from one chapter to the next. I was struggling for a couple of weeks with how to make an unavoidable canon plot point emotionally relevant to Baz's arc, but I think I figured it out last night. Phew.

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send. Kudos and tags to @cutestkilla, @thewholelemon, @whatevertheweather, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @monbons, @onepintobean, @ileadacharmedlife, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @skeedelvee, @im-gettingby, @imagineacoolusername, @iamamythologicalcreature, @youre-an-apocryphal-concept-223, @rimeswithpurple, @goblindad-emoshit, @facewithoutheart, @artsyunderstudy, @alleycat0306, @erzbethluna, @ebbpettier, @emeryhall, @f-ing-ruthless-baz, @hushed-chorus, @hertragedyconnoisseur, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ic3-que3n.

[wrongcaitlyn]

i wanted to know if you have any plans for the og campers???? like luke, clarisse, silena, beckendorf, etc etc

this is SO funny bc i was literally JUST talking to @wronghuntress about them like a few hours ago😭😭 BUT to answer your question,,, it's sort of complicated. bc i didn't realize that i was doing it until like a good way into the series, but i've been unintentionally picturing pretty much all of the og campers/people from the main pjo series as part of the acting side of hollywood, whereas i've been leaning more toward, like, toa/side/minor characters for the rest of the main cast! this makes sense to me because like, nico and will get their big moment in toa, and apollo's a huge character too. percy and annabeth are actors obviously, but i did give them some connections to nico - but either way, i guess i just saw all of those characters as not really having any sort of connection to nico & will (even though i'm the hugest fan of will being close with clarisse and silena and beckendorf- he was totally will's bi awakening it's canon u heard it from me)

but anyway im getting off track, i've sort of had like a completely separate plotline for them going on in my head (not really detailed at all, i'd have to think about it more), dealing with more of those og characters, including percy annabeth and grover! i'm not entirely sure if that'll ever be included in the main fic seeing as they don't have much connection to nico's storyline specifically, but who knows... maybe a spinoff fic one day? i definitely won't be able to write some long 100k fic for them but i'd love to dive into that!

the only thing that i DO see happening is - if you remember this, a while ago, i mentioned the possibility of a third fic or some future plans for nico to write a musical to get that egot, namely hadestown. while the idea was being organized in my head, i've been thinking of silena as helping nico write the musical and playing eurydice, and then ofc i'd love having beckendorf play orpheus - i think he gives the vibes?? or is that just me???

and then jenna (wronghuntress) gave me the BEAUTIFUL idea earlier today of this... silena and charlie as actors, specifically broadway/musical theater actors (though im sure they have also been in some other projects), clarisse as silena's bodyguard,,, and im usually so against love triangles but like. there's so much potential there - again, nothing's finalized, i dont even know if i'm gonna write it, i don't really have ANY plans other than potentially making nico contact silena when he wants to work on his musical and having them + beckendorf work together for the demo recording - it's all VERY vague and blurry so we'll see if i come up with anything more to fall down that rabbit hole!

and as for luke, i pretty much have this: he's an actor, at some point he was prob friends with annabeth after working on a show together or smth, and ends up getting cancelled. for what? i'm not entirely sure yet, but it's probably very shitty for the internet to turn against a hot white guy. actually that fact might make him getting cancelled very unrealistic. but like it's my fic so that's what i'm saying happens! unfortunately he prob still gets roles and he's prob still like a millionaire and stuff but in general: bad person. though he probably (and thalia, because she used to be an actress too before running away) were in a movie/show/something with annabeth when she was young and they kinda mentored her/helped her learn the ropes before her big break. they started a club of neglected child actors which eventually turned into just annabeth, but at least she has percy and reyna and jason and piper and magnus on her side now :)

so long story short: i don't have specific plans, but they're all actors and definitely have a lot of lore that one day i would like to try to figure out!! for now i'm still very focused on tgol/the side stories that take place in THAT main timeline (so right now it'd be 2020-2024), whereas all of the main drama/plot in the actors' timeline would be happening BEFORE talk your talk (percy + annabeth + thalia + luke + silena) (around 2008-2015) or AFTER the greatest of luxuries (silena + clarisse + beckendorf + chris(??? i have no idea what's going on with him?? he's prob famous somehow but idk??? or maybe like childhood friend tis the damn season vibe. god there are so many fame tropes i have yet to unlock and so many characters i have yet to mess with) (around 2024-2026)

thank you for the ask!! i hope that one day when i have some more time to make some playlists, properly listen to hadestown, and learn more about musical theater/broadway/acting in general, i'll be able to answer the question more thoroughly!!

[lucyyygg]

Hi. I just want to somehow make catharsis about the whole Chenford break up going on and listen other takes on it.

Maybe Im just a girl going through Mercury Retrograde being delulu not wanting to aknowledge they are over. Having said that:

I just know this is not the end for them. But not for plot reasons that we are all speculating. I mean sure for plot reasons is necesary for Tim to get his shit together before taking the next step with Lucy (Eric said in his interview that Tim loves her and its seen in the lie detector scene and all the Tamara moving out storyline that has been going since last season they are sure heading to moving together). Also sure Lucy has suffered many things and is interesting to see her next steps.

But I just know this is for marketing reasons. They need the show to be renewed for another season and a massive cliffhanger like this one when there's a 3 weeks break between episodes where they know people will be engaged on it is a good way on getting that renewal.

They know people still watching the show because Chenford. They have stated they are endgame. But they are producers and writers and plan things ahead in order to keep the show going. Is just trust the process and the fact that they work on this and know what they are doing. I have seen many shows (most of them from ABC) to know they give the fans what they want bc in the end is a product that is sold and know that not doing something your target audience wants equals not product to be sold.

Also, even though Melissa and Eric had said that there are some things coming on Tim and Lucy on the season finale and blah blah blah. They are putting a lot of effort on the breakup promotionally speaking. The interviews released the second the episode finished, the TikToks from Melissa, the whole ice cream promo with letters to the cast about the breakup and they laughing and making jokes (also like the ig account still saying Chenford stan account) is more clear is about making the people engaged and furthermore, making the network renew the show for season 7. They are actors and know they must keep a good relationship with their fans (I mean if you make something that upset your fans then how would you keep getting called to act if you dont have people watching them for you and other actors can), what Im saying Is they are laughing and all of this because they know how it ends and know they end in a place where fans will love it, if not they are basically bullyng us lol.

So long story short: just keeping my peace of mind knowing it is just marketing. By the interviews we know somehow the season finale lets them in a good place, so if season 7 comes maybe we got time to see them making up with more time and development (things this season had been rushed bc the strike, not only here but in most shows) and if there's not season 7 it will end up with Chenford with a sort of an open finale where all points to them giving it another chance in their inmidate future.

Hope i made myself clear. Just wanted to vent haha. And lets chill and cross fingers for season 7 and an Oscar for Melissa and Eric because that break up was so CHEFF KISS like girlll I have felt that pain too.

Hi! So glad to have you vent in my inbox lol!

I know that this isn't forever and I can see why they did it. I hope more people can also think about that as they calm down and as the rest of the season plays out. I'm seeing a lot of negative opinions right now and everyone is entitled to how they feel but the writers aren't dumb, they know what they're doing.

Something like this happening near the end of the season will bring attention to it and hook people in, since they'll wanna watch to see it resolved. Even though that's not gonna happen til season 7 unfortunately.

Also a lot of people criticizing the writers need to realize that the show isn't for them specifically lol. Not targeting anyone but these are commonly used tropes in tv for a reason, they aren't a personal attack. I can think of 10 ships off the top of my head that this happened to. It's a common thing, getting into a relationship that has been anticipated for so long but life gets in the way, so you need to work it out individually, then together happens a lot. And pretty much all of them come out stronger on the other side.

I'm crossing my fingers for season 7! I'm not really worried about cancelation since its rating are pretty good and it's a big streaming hit, but anything can happen unfortunately. Still, I think we're safe lol.

I still haven't rewatched the breakup scene in full because it HURTS. They both killed it but Melissa's face and inflection on her voice makes me wanna curl up and die its so heart wrenching 😭😭.

Thanks for your ask lol I love big, long rants (that sounds sarcastic but I promise it's not)

[for-gilded-cups-are-empty]

Katalepsis after live-read thoughts collection

So, now that im caught up about in time for book 1 to end, i am just regurgitating half-thoughts ive had along the ride, doing some retrospection and working my way through all the stuff i still want to draw.

I think thats one of the big things i really noticed and appreciated about katalepsis. Theres just drawability to it. I havent decided yet if its Hungrys writing style in general, the genre, or most likely, a characteristic of Heathers that got me to figure out i can use my laptop as a drawing tablet. Heather in her internal monologue just has a real appreciation for spaces.

A space is rarely a backdrop to do a scene in, the places and buildings and dimensions are characters to heather in a way that just makest a lot of sense for someone who grew up seeing the personified spirits of the everyday world as well as the varied wilds of Outside.

When the Stairwell trap is sprung, theres a very real feeling of betrayal, the willow house has forsaken raine and heather, who previously thought it a sanctuary.

We later learn that the space was bound, artificial, forced to act against its inhabitants in a way a house usually would not, which fits some themes that come up waaaaayy later.

I originally thought this would just be a quirk of heathers, some flavor to her thought processes, but it really did get picked up as an actual story beat, not just an aesthetic, with the soul of edward lilburnes house.

The Outside places are a bit more metaphorical about this, but strangely more clearly alive as well. The Library is an extension of the catalogue, wonderland is dominated by the eye. Ooran Juhs Projected space is his own physical gullet. Carcosa is the stage of a living play. The very first outside space we get to properly see is on the back of some giant creature, hairs and all.

Theres just Personality to every place that keeps them all so very, very vivid.

Ive been planning to draw wonderland ever since the mirror incident at the very beginning of the story, and in a very funny way, as ive drawn other stuff along the way ive been training for wonderland and the eye along with the cast. I really want to do it justice.

Staying on said cast for a bit, ive already talked about raine for a good bit, but theyre all amazing. I was always happy to see that an arc or a few chapters would become a cast members designated backstory time, because i really do want to know more about them and how they work as people. After about the middle point of the story though, those moments and how they connected became pretty hard for me to keep track off

For a reader who was along for the ride since the start, having to wait between chapters as they come out, the pacing probably works way better than it did for me.

I found myself really wishing for more time with the spookycule in each stage of development it had. Early katalepsis with just raine evee and heather is probably where it was the closest to ideal for me, in terms of just vibes i enjoy and things to keep track of.

I dont want to be too analytical, im bad at that, but for example we only see the fractal used to banish a sharrowford cult servitor once.

There could have been way more time spent in the twilight of magic, the street level zone, where every accidental slip outside is a moment of grand terror, and heather learns to live with the idea that the spirits are real.

For someone who gets called “Shaman” a lot later on, we only really see her asking a spirit for directions once (the wrecking ball hands gorilla), where i was expecting that to become a very integral bit of her kit as a character. I love the cephalopod changeling we got instead, but i do feel there could have been a heather who learned to work with her non brain pain vomit inducing abilities for practical reasons, at least for a little while.

After that comes the Messenger demon and maisies message. Knowing the rest of the story, i love that the primary motivation set up here has jack and shit to do with Ed or Alex. This isnt a story about killing the bad guy, its in a very serious way a story about love and that is what should motivate the characters.

Ed and Alex really are just invaders to the story, who grasp at threads that should not concern them at all, with their meddling eventually causing the collapse of Alexs portion of the cult under the Eyes gaze.

I dont quite know how much actual space is in between Kimberly and Zheng joining the household, but this is really the part of the story where just a lot happened at once. We get both badger and sarika, the entire abyss transformation and zheng so very close together.

During the time of the dead hands there is actually some breathing room though. Mostly because set dead hands keep us consigned to a breathable atmosphere for a bit.

The other big stretch of story that i wish lasted longer is the post proposal journey with sevens and saldis through carcosa. Given how time works outside, that whole stretch of time could have really stretched for a while without threatening the maisie limit, and i do wish that some of sevens later character development had happened in here, since i didnt quite know what to think of her after they left the palace, whereas right now in the end she is one of my favourites. I still dont know what i think of the king in yellow being in this story at all, but thats a me issue.

Yeah, so given that most of the smaller thoughts ive already posted in the liveread chat, i guess ive now covered my two big thoughts. I love how katalepsis treats spaces, and the only thing i had any problems with was the pacing, which tbh might just be because i didnt take my time when reading at all.

Time for even less structured thoughts now, just a rapid fire of things that come to mind after reading:

I hope we eventually get a perspective on the worlds cosmology from a mage fully unconnected to the vaguely interconnected british underworld of mages, im very curious how deeply different interpretations of outside, the abyss, demons and beyonders a person might have if they never interacted with the humunculus wars environment. The abyss beeing wet and aquatic seemed to be a general truth, to edward, zheng and even lozzie, until we met taika for example. I want to see more of that.

I said earlier that sevens has become one of my favourites, which is kinda stupid since most characters are my favourite at something by some measure, but Raine and Evee are still the two that are the most meaningful or connected to me. Ive already gone into maybe too much detail on how Raine just works in a way that ive never seen portrayed in anything for some reason. What i havent really realized until about now is how similar evees struggle is. There is that same need to feel useful. They both define their fundamental self via a skill that is in some way repulsive to them for whatever reason, and must cling to another to point them in a direction where they feel they can use it to do good. Evee has to feel useful, has to justify her presence and her dangerous knowledge to herself to some degree, and helping heather is how she does it for now.

The fundamental difference i think is that Raine chose to define herself that way, as knight errant, as supporter, while evee feels any other option to act on the world was taken from her by her mother. This mostly takes the form of her physical disability often stopping her from acting in time, reaching places, but also stopping her anorgasmia seemingly stopping her from loving in the way she thinks is correct (at that point of the story at least. Both of those are changing of course, mostly thanks to Praem).

It kind of lines up with Kimberly in a funky way, since she essentially decided not to use sorcery to justify her presence, both in the house and the story, but still remained around and appreciated, as a sort of in universe counterpoint to evees negative view of herself.

Thats all i can think of for now, i dont actually now how to end this, this isnt a sotry analysis, i have no conclusion except that im glad i caught up so close to the end, because im excited to see all of us react to whatever crazy shit is going down live!

[narrators-journal]

Hey, I'm trying to make a Yandere Persona 3 fanfic (Which is being posted on AO3). Can you give me some advice as to how to write it as I'm having a writer's block?

(Note: The Yandere ship being Yandere SEES x Fuuka Yamagishi, though, Ken and Koromaru are Platonic Yanderes, with the rest of SEES being Romantic Yanderes.)

Okay! So, I’ll preface this with, this isn’t some step-by-step guide on how to write your story, it’s just some general advice I could think of. I’m a good writer, but my methods might not work for you, and I do not claim to know what the fuck I’m actually doing. So, keep that in mind while you read this, okay? I’m sorry if none of this advice works for you, and if you have any questions after this, or want some more clarity on these points, feel free to send in another ask, comment, anything like that and I’ll be happy to answer them!

Now, let’s get the big part of this done first. If you want to know how I personally write and manage to craft all the stories like months of tolerance, Winter is a lovely season for weddings and funerals, or any of the smut you might like to read, I...can’t really help. The best I’ve got for that is just, I tend to write what I like to think about, and that enjoyment usually leads me to filling in the details and putting in the extra effort to try and make the writing, story, and implied world around the scenarios as good as I can get them. So, if you just want a walk through on how to gain that skill, all I can offer is to simply enjoy what you write, and write what would make you happy for the story.

Alright! With that out of the way, onto how I tackle my fics! Starting with my first step, making an outline.

OUTLINING

And, trust me, I recognize that some writers hate to outline their stories, it’s boring, it can seem to take all the fun and spontenaity out of writing. But, for a full fanfiction, with something that requires plot, and consistency, an outline is very good. Especially if you’re writing anything with a large cast of characters, like you’re planning to, because an outline lets you keep track of how frequently someone appears, talks, who’s getting too much spotlight vs who isn’t getting enough, and lets you keep track of events.

Plus, it can be a good baby step to work out of a writer’s block because it’s not very taxing on the brain. You’re just taking your ideas, and trying to at least vaguely organize them. So, in that sense, an outline also can work as a pre-rough draft! Because, you’re writing down all of your big ideas and noting down ideas to flesh those bigger points out in a format that’s a lot easier to get out, edit and adjust than a full blown chapter, y’know? So, take advantage of that, and take the time to outline your entire fic before hand. It doesn’t have to be super detailed, you don’t need to fill an outline with polished prose, you just need to get down your ideas in a semi-organized fashion so that you can map out how your plot will go. For example, something like this is how I would outline a fic:

end

Maya and co. finally convince Tatsuya to join their group, booting Nanjo to the curb.

Katsuya and Tatsuya bond after an encounter with Katsuya’s shadow

S!Katsuya: Admit it! You hate your baby brother! He ruined your life!

Katsuya: No! No, I could never hate him!

Tatsuya punches Nyarlethotep in the face

As you can see, it isn’t super detailed or in-depth, it just covers the big points of how they reach the desired end, with some dialogue I thought up as I was writing. And, that leads into my next point of advice for outlines specifically: Start with the ending. If you figure out the ending first, you’ll know what to foreshadow and build in the earlier portions, so I always suggest you start by writing down your ending point.

So, tldr: Try outlining your fic before you get stuck into writing. It’ll help you catch plot holes, recall and keep track of cool dialogue you thought up, and make sure each of your cast has time to shine and some sort of impact within the plot. Especially when it comes to large groups of characters you’ll have to keep track of.

CHARACTERIZATION AND DIFFERENTIATION

This next part is another big thing I keep track of when I write my fics or scenarios, and is especially noteworthy for a group of Yanderes. My personal characterization, and how that differentiates that specific character from the others.

This is the time you work in your headcanons for character personalities or backstory, and I can’t offer any help on that front. Your takes are your takes, the only advice I can offer is to make sure to note those personalities down if you don’t feel confident innately writing that character with them yet. Like some form of cheat sheet on Junpei, or Mitsuru, or whoever you don’t feel you can portray consistently off the cuff. That way, as you write them, you can have something to refer back to for their actions. For example, if I was to write for a yandere Junpei, I’d probably write down:

Keep golden retriever energy

Possibly stand-offish to darling at first. In some circumstances

Probably doesn’t bother to hide stalker behavior.

Likely to gaslight to hide that shit instead

to try and keep him consistent.

Which, is another example of how characterization is very important for specifically yandere fics. After all, not every yandere should behave the same, and for a group those small differences are hard to keep track of in your mind alone. Like, Shinjiro is terrified of hurting those he cares about, so he’s not going to be as kidnap happy as Akihiko. Who is more likely to deem the outside world dangerous and unpredictable, so the safest place for Darling is with him at all times. Yukari has an awful track record of those important to her leaving in some fashion, so she’s going to be far more aggressive when Darling escapes than, say, Minato is. Since Minato’s lower energy, and is convinced he’s ‘normal’, and doesn’t care about anybody, so violence isn’t something he’s keen on. That’s a lot to keep straight if you’re just relying on your own memory for those good character ideas.

So, all of these things are aspects I usually note down for the yanderes I write. It lends them some variety, personality, and opens a lot more potential for Darling to have conflict and a chance. So, I suggest you think a bit about each character you want, and write down how they personally would behave as a yandere. Which, leads into what should be our second to last, major point of advice.

LET THE DARLING BE SMART

As a writer, I can tell you, favoritism is something that happens, lol. Not only in characters, but focus. Sometimes you just prefer to focus on the fun interactions, or the kidnap portion of a yandere story, and that’s fine. But, for a good, filling story, you should always make sure that you are trying to make your Darling/mc at least believably dumb, lol.

Which, transcends the strict vibes of the situation. After all, no matter if it’s overt yandere behavior, or subtle, if your Darling is obliviously a-okay with everything around her, and goes to grab a spoon to defend themself against a psycho killer covered in the bestie’s blood, it can take a reader out of your story. If done wrong, at least.

Plus, a story is better with conflict, and making sure your character is believably smart, can heighten the tension, stakes, and simply provide that friction. It lets your reader have hope that a plan will work, and feel more tense and invested when shit begins to go awry. So always try to make sure your darling has some awareness fitting your plot.

And, finally!

WRITE FOR YOURSELF

Aka, don’t get so hung up on writing the perfect, most polished, tense, believable fic that you end up killing your own joy for it. All of this advice is stuff that I, personally, use to write my full length fics. I like to think of all of the little details and make a thoroughly thought out story, but if you just want to write a lighter, less dark yandere story that’s nothing but pure self-indulgence, go for it!

Hell, I’ve done it, my Ryomina fic, Winter is a lovely season for romance and funerals, is built brick by brick off of my own enjoyment of the idea of Minato being sacrificed to Ryoji. The story was grown around that, and it probably shows lol. So, make sure that you don’t get too caught up in the planning, the consistency of the characters, or how well put together your story is. Just enjoy yourself, and you will usually find an audience who can appreciate the simple fun of your fic. Just be aware of your motivations, and try not to take your fic too seriously.

Annnnnnd that’s all I’ve got for coherent advice! I hope this is helpful, I hope it is clear, and I appreciate that you thought so highly of my writing, that you asked my advice! Again, if anything here is confusing, or you’d like advice on a specific thing I didn’t cover here, feel free to comment, send another ask, whatever! That goes for everybody who decides to read this btw, not just the asker.

[thosedamnsmoshkids]

u know i’m obsessed with crime does pay… i think about it regularly and was thinking about trevor in the cdp world, and it begs the question who would the new cast members play in your fanfic??

OHHHHHHH MY GODDDDDDDD THIS IS SO GOOD okay im high as shit and i feel like i know so little about the new cast members except like angela because i love to watch her compilations but if i were to do a cdp 3 this time its for all the cheese (because technically cdp 2 electric boogaloo DOES exist canonically its based in liberty city with ian and anthony (and some of the new cast members at the time) it was the tentitive sequel called 'crack the sky' planned at one point but i got #bored)

god im literally going to go back and read the epilogue of cdp so i can refresh my memory. i reread it. its more insane than i remember.

okay okay okay even though like an important part of current smosh is their interactions with members who were in cdp but i think they'd be seperate? like the new members would have a completely different crew but maybe they'd be mentioned in the background

my first instinct was drag racers, like competitive racers ala the fast and the furious, but the more i think about it the more im like. wait theyre a heist crew. im not sure what their main conflict would be but knowing my tastes for dynamics now it would absolutely be like an insane polycule character study

trevor is actually the new member i know the least amount but i know he came from mythical originally and is often teased for being young compared to the rest of the cast. im getting like maybe mechanic/fixit gadget guy vibes.

amanda is absolutely the face woman, she's the one who can change like a chameleon into any person needed for a con. big big flirt, usually uses charm in order to get what she wants.

angela is your wildcard jack of all trades. knows how to shoot a gun but should you let her? can squeeze her way out of any circumstance, number one skill is pickpocketing and misdirection.

chanse is your art thief cat bugler who knows way too much about fancy parties and art history

arasha gives me both mastermind vibes but also the vibes of someone who isn't a permanent member of the crew and works with both them and others, and brings them in info occasionally

spencer is guy in the chair for REALSIES hes your tech geek nerd boy. i can see tommy playing a similar role to him that kate played in cdp here. what can i say the spommy propaganda worked on me

the polycule would be insane tho these bitches would be so unproductive at crime because they're busy with their personal problems

[seoafin]

I think Akutami is just going for a tragic end. Like, it's obvious he hates Gojo, and ending the series with Gojo being the last standing would add even more to the "Throughout the Heaves and earth, he alone is the strongest."

Which SUCKS bc even gojo wanted the kids to get strong!!! He wanted strong allies so he WONT be alone!!! Akutami could have kept him in there longer, and have the kids actually do something, since they couldn't fall back on gojo anymore. I wish Yuji had that win against Mahito, instead of Kenjaku just absorbing him like a Pokémon. Or better yet, NOBARA. LET HER GET A WIN. SHE COULDVE WON, AND SHE SHOULDVE. Killing off Yuki, for what? Sidelining shoko and miwa and every other female character except Maki?

And what was the point of the culling games? Bringung in military forces? If Gege has a plan and is somehow able to tie this all together I'll be impressed. But only if he finally utilizes his female characters the way they should have always been, like he did for Maki. He did SO good with her, what happened to the rest?

Sorry I'm still ranting, but to add on to Akutami's misuse of his female characters-- Shouldn't women in the jjk universe have an advantage?

Momo was talking about how woman in jjk need to be perfect, just to be accepted. Disobedient woman in the zenin clan can have their mouths sewed shut. Adding in the general woes of being a woman, wouldn't that lend for greater storage or a more unique type of cursed energy?

Add THAT onto what our female characters have faced. Miwa lost Mechamaru, and she even tried to go up against Kenjaku even when he warned against it. And he almost used that Uzumaki cursed thing (i believe) on her. Her brother is in one of the colonies. (Honestly I feel she's one of the most underutilized characters). Nobara isn't from a great clan like Megumi or freakishly fast and strong like Yuji, even if we haven't seen I'm sure she has some problems with feeling left behind, that little girl in her still searching for a grand escape, her Saori. Momo already has spoken of the troubles of women sorcerers, so I'm sure she's been battling this image and ideal for a while. Do I even need to mention Maki and Mai?

NO BUT I DO NEED TO MENTION SHOKO.

"I was there too you bastards." Like??? She was in the generation with the two greatest sorcerers! She bore witness to it all!! What about Riko??? The Star plasma vessel, who im sure wouldve completed the trio of the strongest sorceres had she lived, and then there's Shoko, again.

Why is it that even when Akutami uses his female cast they always end up as some sort of character growth or regression or stepping stool for the male cast? Yuki and choso. Riko and gojo/geto. Kenjaku and Tengen (who I think is female). Angel and Megumi. TSUMIKI and Megumi. Nobara and Yuji. Like????

no i agree it just doesn't make sense. like is the whole point of jjk not gojo ushering a new age with strong allies??? why would akutami bring him back when the students have barely begun to actually do anything without gojo's help. AND NOBARA'S STILL NOT BACK???? ig this is confirmation that she's never coming back ugh. akutami killing off characters when he has no more use for them is so detrimental to the narrative. i truly believe nanami should've survived. but oh well :/

i just feel like his unboxing reiterates how dependent everything is around gojo! it's to the extent that other characters begin to become static because of how much everything revolves around gojo's strength. i was really looking forward to the students getting more of a spotlight.

the thing about akutami is that im pretty sure it's not even as intentional as other mangakas. akutami follows a pretty perfunctory story structure and when it comes to utilizing his characters he seeks to have his characters perform a single purpose and then when he doesn't need them they're gone. instead of dynamic characters we get flat characters or they just die before they ever really get a chance to shine (nanami). it sucks all around tbh but i do think gojo is going to die. akutami's kinda sick like that so. i'd also rather gojo die than any students LOL