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#in the sense that none of them get along at first but they learn to appreciate eachother
(just a disclaimer that im using the general ‘you’ throughout this, none of this is directed at the blog owner) (also apologies if this doesnt make much sense its the adhd)
the more i think about it, the more i feel like DNIs are kinda, like, dividing?? like why do you need to know if all my opinions align exactly with yours just for me to talk to you…? i can understand saying “i dont want to talk about this/dont try to change my mind about this” but it feels like a lot of people just. demonize having an opinion on something.
like obviously a disclaimer that if your opinion is “this opressed group deserves to be opressed/should be opressed more/shouldn’t exist at all” then thats fucked up and i can get wanting to avoid that (especially if youre part of said opressed group)
but like. have you ever considered that someone who disagrees with you probably has their own reasoning and life experience that has formed their opinions, and that you can still talk to them even if their opinions dont align with yours?
and hey! maybe through talking with them peacefully you can learn why they hold that opinion! and maybe your opinion will change, or maybe their opinion will change, or maybe youll both stay the same but with a deeper understanding of the other sides point of view!
its just. i think somewhere along the line we lost the ability to self-reflect and realize that we can still be wrong (yes, even if youre a “good person”)
(although, im not quite sure we ever had that ability in the first place…)
Can I broadcast this into everybody's mind, please and thank you?
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subpar-celestial · 8 months
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IMAGINE THE STORY POTENTIAL
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I know it would probably be a logistical nightmare to also make this accessible to the actual people represented, but I think it would be cool to have a game where the whole point is that every character has different limitations, that make it impossible or at least incredibly difficult to get past the whole game without switching them every once in a while, and the way you switch is by going to another character and asking their help with something.
Like you start out the game with one character and go "oh huh, the colour sceme of this game is really cool, really interesting use of such a limited palette", play through the puzzles for a while, and then encounter something where you're supposed to arrange some slightly differently coloured puzzle pieces to the right order by shade or something, and it's goddamn impossible. No matter how many methods you try, it's just not clicking, no matter how logical your solutions seem, no matter how clearly they can't be arranged in any other way that'd make more sense.
And maybe you go online to ask people "hey I'm stuck in the colour puzzle, what the hell am I supposed to do to get past this?" and someone tells you to go find one of the other playable characters and ask for their help. Which sounds patronising and stupid but you're stuck so you might as well give it a try. You go to one of the other characters, choosing the dialogue option to go "hey I need a hand with something, I can't do this on my own", and when they go "sure, let's go", your controls now switch to the other character.
And the colour scheme switches immediately. The aesthetic limited palette has changed to a far wider range, there's details in the environment that you hadn't noticed, like the muted faint flowers on the ground are actually bright red, the greyish shirt that your first character was wearing is actually striped with orange and green. The first POV character is colourblind, this whole time you haven't been able to perceive the difference between green and red. Solving the colour arranging puzzle with the other character is a breeze.
And this is the repeating theme of the game - every character has their own limitations, and while none of the puzzles are easy, you learn to think "maybe I should ask someone to help me with this" whenever you've been stuck for an unreasonable amount of time. You need to grab a buddy along for the quests, or you'll need to go back to get one eventually, and the way the game is structured somehow ensures that you can't just tactically dodge the limitation puzzles beforehand. Deaf character's POV doesn't have the audio clues that different pieces of the same puzzle make a different clicking sound, the puzzle with garbled numbers on it stops being garbled when you're not playing the character with dyscalculia.
You slowly get to know the whole cast, and occasionally help them out with things, too. You know which character could probably help with something you're stuck with, but while they'd be glad to come help, they're unfortunately stuck doing some task that could take you 20 minutes but is going to take them all afternoon, and you can offer help. Sometimes the helping-a-buddy-out minigames don't come with any direct transactional reward, you can just help a friend with something just because you can.
And the game's whole goal isn't to just illustrate how different people have different strengths, and sometimes things that are easy for you are hard for someone else, and vice versa, but to condition the player to think "maybe I should just ask someone to help, instead of wasting time struggling on my own."
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a-hazbin-reader · 7 months
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Can you do an Alastor x fem!reader where Alastor confesses his love to her, but she doesn't believe him, thinking it's some kind of sick joke? She just laughs nervously, saying something like “yeah, yeah, I got it, very good joke, Al, your humor is getting better,” expecting that it will actually turn out to be some kind of prank
However, Alastor doesn't stop and tries to convey to her that he really loves her, but she still doesn't believe him because she doesn't trust him completely. Like, he's the radio demon, one of the most dangerous and powerful overlords who seemingly despised the idea of ​​getting close to someone, what if he just wants to trick her so he can maybe make a deal with her or something?? That's why at first she tries to avoid him in order to get rid of this awkwardness due to his confessions, but gradually in the end she begins to meet him halfway and considers the idea of ​​​​starting to date him after all. Not official yet, but the chances are great
WELP-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None?? I think??
Description: ☝️⬆️
You're used to expecting the worst-case scenario and protecting your heart first and foremost, it's just how you learned to survive
You've learned not to trust anyone, especially anybody down here in hell with you, everyone has an ulterior motive
Yet...by some weird twist of fate you found yourself a home at the hotel, Charlie somehow having convinced you to stay
Whether or not you believed in redemption, you couldn't deny that you didn't feel a sense of closeness with everyone there
Even Alastor was nice to hang around sometimes, though you didn't trust him in the slightest
How could you? The Radio Demon?? He's got plans for his plans and only sees people for their use, he doesn't care about anyone, especially not you
You're just amusing to him, which is fine, you can tolerate being amusing just not being used
You had a comfortable relationship with the overlord which was something that not many people could say
You two got along well enough, spent a good amount of time together and actually had decent conversations
He'a charming and handsome, a dangerous combination but you were far too addicted to his presence now to worry about it, you can still protect your heart
Or at least you did, until Alastor decided to toy with your feelings, how he found out about your budding crush was beyond you
You two were walking alone together at night, laughing at some couple you two had witnessed earlier, teasing them
"I just don't understand how any man could be that whipped for a woman! I can't wrap my head around it..!"
Instead of joining in your laughter, he hummed and looked over at you strangely before looking ahead
"Oh, I don't know... I find myself understanding men like that a little more these days."
It's like a bucket of ice water just fell on you, your laughter cutting off as you look at him in confusion
"What do you mean? Are you...seeing someone or something?"
He looks as uncomfortable as a man with a permanent smile can be, tapping his claws against his staff
"Heavens no, but that doesn't mean there isn't someone special in my life... someone I wouldn't mind courting."
He gives you a meaningful glance then looks away again, stopping suddenly and facing you
"Alastor-"
"I wouldn't mind being whipped for you."
Your stomach sours and you frown, pushing at his shoulder a little harder than you meant to
"Yeah, that's real funny, Alastor. Why don't you go try that joke on someone else next time?"
You walk off as quickly as you can, leaving a baffled looking Alastor in your dust
Do you have any idea how hard it was for him to confess!? He grits his teeth and rubs his hand over his face as he watches you run away from him
You don't talk to him the next day, or the day after that, in fact... Alastor is pretty sure you're avoiding him because any time he tries to talk to you-
You find an excuse to run off, your relationship with him awkward and nervously hanging on by a thread
He ruined it and all your walls came right back up
You should've known he would exploit your weakness like that, should've seen that he was only being so good to you because he wanted to use everything he learned against you
You don't know what he gets out of it or what his goal is, but you're sure he's got an angle
Even now, he's trying to mess with your feelings, bringing you flowers, pushing little notes under your door, one time he even tried to serenade you
He keeps trying to tell you that he cares about you, that he feels for you, that he wants you, and you just don't want to hear it
It hurts to be toyed with
Everyone else at the hotel can see what's happening between you two which makes everything that much more embarrassing
"Come on, Husk! I know you know something! Why is he targeting me!? What do I have that he wants?"
Husk looks visibly uncomfortable, looking over your body before looking away, suddenly interested in a smudge on a glass
"I don't know anything so quit asking me! Why don't you just sit down and talk with him, huh?"
Oh, he knows something
Angel smirks and nudges your leg with his own, invading your personal space to further tease you
"You're tellin' me that you ain't flattered by all this attention he's givin' you? I've seen the way he's been mooning over you lately, and let me tell you~ That shit ain't fake~"
You huff and shake your head, mostly to hide the blush on your face from them
"He has an angle, everyone always does."
"Look if you wanna be a blind bitch then be my guest but at least promise me you'll hit that and tell me the details~?"
"ANGEL!"
You can't avoid Alastor forever no matter how hard you try, eventually running into him late one night when everyone else is in bed
You should've known better than to get that late night snack, but you had skipped dinner earlier, and you were hungry
You're washing your plate off when you hear Alastor walk in, stiffening once you realize you have no real excuse to run away anymore
"Alastor-"
He sucks in a breath and stays still as if scared he'll chase you away, which he might actually be worried about due to your actions lately
"I know you think I confessed to you in order to get something from you but that's far from the truth. I do genuinely find myself attached to you."
You feel your lip wobble a little, hugging yourself as you look away from him
"Don't. Don't you dare mess with me like this or I'll never forgive you, Alastor."
He takes another step closer to you, cautious as if trying not to scare you away
"I'm being entirely honest with you, I've fallen for you in ways I can't even begin to understand or convey to you. These last few weeks have been torture for me."
He's gripping your arms gently to stop you from turning away, the simple touch spreading warmth throughout your body
You have missed him a lot...
"I'm not asking that you confess your love to me, I only want a chance to show you I'm being genuine with you..."
You glance up at him before taking a step back, blushing furiously at the pathetic puppy eyes he's giving you
You can't believe you're going to agree to this, he better not make you regret it later or you'll make him suffer for it
You sigh and point at him, doing your best to remain calm and not let your emotions show
"I'll think about it, okay? Just...give me time to think."
He visibly relaxes and sighs in relief, giving you a warm smile as if you had just said yes
"That's more than I could ask for, I'll wait hundreds of years for you if that's what you want."
You blush more and have to cover your mouth to stop an excited squeal from escaping your lips
"Q-quit flirting with me! I already said I'd think about it..!"
He chuckles softly and reaches out to rub your cheek before pulling away and turning to leave
"Okay okay~ I'll wait for you...~"
He leaves you there in the dark, blushing and fuming to yourself
Having a handsome overlord on your arm wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to you
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I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!
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list of things that made me scream in pjo episode 3
Percy picking grover because he trusts him not to betray him!!! THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS OK
Luke still comes off as so likable and inconspicuous that whole convo he had with percy and the shoes i just
GROVER AND THE CONSENSUS SONG I CANT
annabeth staring at the different flavors of candy in the gas station and not being able to pick and just buying all of them. Thats the annabeth we deserve
ANNABETHS KNIFE APPEARANCE ALERT and a fury is IMMEDIATELY killed
uncle ferdinand foreshadowing……………
When annabeth and percy start arguing in the woods and grover tries to change the subject by talking about his uncle and they both completely ignore him. I LOVE GROVER SO MUCH
the bickering in this episode is ON POINT by the way
like the stuff theyre arguing about makes sense. Yes i would be concerned about those things too
ESPECIALLY since theres such a focus put on trust (esp after percy learns that someone is going to betray him) and percy and annabeth are arguing about stuff theyve lied or havent told each other about???? Sorry that might be skipping ahead a bit but GOD is that the good stuff
i love that they changed how the three of them ended up going into auntie em’s because before it was a little concerning that none of them figured out it was medusa. Plus having a fury outside just adds to the tension a perfect amount i think, because it really traps them in there
all the discussion about the gods and what medusa talks to percy about in the kitchen - YES MAKE ME HATE THEM!! All of this is adding up to lukes motivations making so much sense in the end
ALSO!! Them harkening back to sallys line in the first episode when she tells percy that not all heroes look like heroes and not all monsters look like monsters - they brought it back so perfectly. Percy wanting to trust medusa because of what his mom said, medusa calling Poseidon a monster, ALL OF IT is so good
When theyre down in the basement and grover puts on the shoes and then just fucking. Flies away and disappears into the darkness yelling a little. and annabeth and percy just kind of helplessly watch him go before being like - welp i guess that plans not working. That was peak comedy
them using annabeths hat on medusa and then using it to kill alecto THEY WERE SO SMART FOR THAT!!! Also percy just the invisible severed head was a hilarious concept to me
when percy suggests burying the hat in the ground with the hat on to make sure no one bad finds it and annabeth just!!! Agrees!!! And then grover has to be like no that hats important to her its a gift from her mother!!! And then percys like well we’ll find another solution then. That whole scene was good yes i liked that
also annabeth revealing that grover was her protector too and percy asks about it and grover just changes the subject and doesnt answer. He is the KING of avoidance
also grover finally interrupting annabeth and percy when they start fighting and giving his whole speech about getting along. That wouldve felt a little cheesy and preachy and out of place from anyone else but considering grover tried to get them to sing the consensus song a few hours earlier i fully believe that he would say that
I AM IMPERTINENT
Why the fuck wasnt there a lin manuel maranda jumpscare warning. I couldve used one of those
but actually all the jokes in this episode were so on point. Like percy calling drachmas chuckie cheese tokens. And him arguing about voting on the bus. Anyways
10/10 episode i will be rewatching like eight times before next tuesday.
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talking in your sleep || logan howlett x reader
part 2 for anyone interested
A/N: hello i threw something together very quickly inspired by "talking in your sleep" by the romantics! also reader is gender neutral (i'm pretty sure i was good to not use any gendered language??? one mention of they/them pronouns) no use of Y/N or any specific descriptions of you, the reader, aside from logan being taller than you. unrelated to this fic, but "replay" is continuing and i am already working on my next long fic after it is done! next chapter of "replay" goes live tomorrow.
summary: you make it a point to not interact with logan, but he finds an interesting excuse to talk to you.
notes: somewhat suggestive themes, proceed with caution
No one could understand what your problem was with Logan. He’d walk into a room, and if you weren’t immediately turning on your heels and leaving, you suddenly became a brick wall. You would watch him, tracking his every move. He’d notice you watching him, and you’d roll your eyes and turn away. Everyone knew he wasn’t easy to get along with, but the way that you would change the moment he was in the same vicinity, it seemed like he had murdered your family. Your friends would ask “have you talked to him?” and you’d reply with a very short, sharp “no.” Everyone at the mansion was stumped, what was it about Logan that bugged you? Scott had asked Jean if she would get into your head and check, to which she’d reply, “And risk them treating me the same way? Absolutely not.” They didn’t dare to ask Charles if he would do the same. He wouldn’t, simply out of respect for your privacy. It was a mystery to everyone, but it didn’t bother anyone more than Logan himself. He would never admit it, but he was genuinely concerned that he had hurt you in some way and wasn’t aware of it. He even knew he was a dick, even on a good day, but he had no real reason to dislike you directly. You iced him out first, and he gave up trying to fix anything after you would constantly shut him down. The closest he could get to you was that his bedroom was right next to yours.
Your sleep schedules were drastically different, you often fell asleep before he did. Based on how closely he could hear your breathing when you slept, he could only imagine that your bed and his shared a wall. He didn’t actively listen to you, but he couldn’t help that he had heightened senses. He could hear you turning over in your sleep, occasionally groaning or mumbling. He had learned pretty early that you tended to talk in your sleep. Never anything super coherent or interesting. Usually only a few words, or a sentence that didn’t make any sense. Occasionally he’d hear you say something funny and he’d chuckle to himself. He silently wished he could have a real conversation with you. He had heard that you were easy to talk to. What had he done to make you push him away? 
One night, Logan was sitting in his bed, reading a book and sipping on some whiskey. He didn’t always spend his evenings like this, but occasionally he would indulge himself in some peace. Stop thinking about the world and all of its problems, and let himself enjoy life’s simple pleasures. He was working his way through “And Then There Were None” by Agatha Christie when he heard you stirring in your sleep. He paid the sound no mind until he heard something familiar.
“Logan…”
He perked up immediately, setting his book and glass down on his bedside table. He sat in complete silence, his breathing slow and quiet waiting to see if he could hear it again.
“I want you, Logan…”
He practically jumped out of his bed. What were you dreaming about? Him, obviously, but what was going through that head of yours? He was dying to know. He hoped that you thought better of him in your sleep. There was the sound of shifting and rolling over in your bed, and then the stillness and quiet again. Your breathing still sounded like you were asleep, otherwise, he would have gone and knocked on your door. He thought about it for a moment, confronting you at your bedroom door tomorrow morning.
The idea became reality. Logan could hear you going about your morning routine, and he did the same, taking extra care to make himself look a little nicer than usual. He wanted answers out of you, and he wanted to look good doing it. He heard you walking towards your bedroom door, and he practically ran into the hallway, leaning over your doorway as you were walking out. You gasped immediately when you saw him towering over you.
“Good morning, how did you sleep?” You were at a loss for words, completely taken aback by the situation. Logan smiled, “Did you have any nice dreams?” With those words, heat was rushing from your chest and rising into your neck and face. He had you caught.
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rahuratna · 2 months
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Thirst Trap
Genre: Fluff, humour, crack.
Characters: Nanami, Yuuji, Ino.
Summary: Ino and Yuuji unwittingly make Nanami IG-famous through a social media post. As the internet's thirst ramps up, Nanami remedies the situation by roping in the two young sorcerers once again.
CW: language.
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"Now that's what I call ... "
"A good run!"
"Oh, hell yeah. You're not half bad, Itadori! Just stick close to me, and you'll learn plenty more!"
A warehouse stained with the remnants of dispatched cursed spirits, clothes rumpled and stained with the evidence of hard work and a new student brimming with the desire to prove himself. Now this was Ino's definition of a day well spent. The last, and most proudly worn feather in his cap was the fact that their successful team-up had been overseen by none other than Nanami Kento himself, the man who breathed inspiration into all of his endeavours as a sorcerer.
Speaking of which ...
"Hey, Nanami, what did you think of our work today?"
Striding along at a steady pace behind the two youngsters, the tall, ever-composed sorcerer looked up and adjusted his glasses.
"Hmm. You're both well-coordinated, considering that you've never been teamed up before. You've got good instinctual prediction of each other's movements and I'm quite certain that you may come up with even more effective techniques if you work together in the future."
Ino nudged Yuuji and mouthed the words "Here it comes."
"Having said that, Itadori, some points to consider."
The cheerful boy glanced back at Nanami and gulped.
"Err, yes, Nanamin?"
"Your instincts are important, but you can't always rely on them. Instincts are based on your physical senses and your ability to analyse cursed energy. It takes a great deal of focus to maintain a good hold on both these threads. If a curse user is able to fool your senses, then such instincts can be your downfall rather than your strength."
Yuuji mulled those words over, humming to himself. Ino clapped him on the back.
"You listen to Nanami and you won't go wr- "
"Funny you should say that, Ino. Because I'm pretty sure I taught you to practice caution at all times instead of throwing yourself head-first into a situation because your underclassman is watching you."
Ino winced and rubbed the back of his head, laughing sheepishly.
"Okay, okay. I admit it. Got a bit carried away 'cos Itadori was watching me. Won't happen again."
Nanami grunted in reply and the two younger sorcerers glanced at each other and grinned slightly. Yuuji's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly in protest of its emptiness.
"Whoa, whoa. Can't have that. Hey, Nanami, what do you say we grab something to eat?"
"I suppose that would be acceptable. What do you propose?"
Ino turned excitedly to Yuuji.
"Since you're the newbie here, you get to choose! Only for today, though!"
"Seriously? Cool! I wanna eat ... hot pot on a day like this. That warehouse was kinda chilly."
Nanami nodded before consulting his phone.
"There's a good place not far from here. Let's go."
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The place Nanami chose was somewhat off the beaten track. They left the main thoroughfare at some point, wandering through a maze of backstreets, food sizzling on outdoor grills, murky puddles and cosily lit bars. The restaurant they ended up at had no proper signage announcing the name of the establishment or any indication of their menu.
The food was, of course, incredible. Yuuji's eyes positively glowed with excitement as the steaming hot pot was laid out before them, the perfectly prepared ingredients on the side.
"Ooh, this is amazing! Nanamin, how'd you find this place?"
"I often come across good places to eat when I'm on missions in the area."
Ino shook his head fondly.
"Oi, Itadori, Nanami here is a massive foodie, you know that? You name any part of Tokyo and he'll tell you the best places to eat there. He even knows regional specialties in other areas that are pretty out there!"
Yuuji was now regarding his mentor with new reverence. Nanami coughed and re-directed their attention to the food.
"This is going to get cold. Shall we begin?"
"Oh! Hold on. Gotta record some of this."
Ino pulled out his phone, getting a few snaps and videos of the steaming hot pot from various angles. Now accustomed to his junior's need to record everything, Nanami sighed and began to add ingredients to the steaming soup base, softly reprimanding Yuuji who didn't want too many vegetables.
"It's winter and these are good for you. Make sure to eat the cabbage. It has roughage and the shungiku and carrots have a lot of vitamins. They also reduce inflammation of the muscles after a long day."
While the pot bubbled merrily, Nanami prepped their sauces in small porcelain dishes, mixing a little grated radish into the ponzu and adding some green onion to the sesame. He added ingredients to the main pot in a methodical sequence, placing the thicker parts of the vegetables first, followed by the assortment of mushrooms and the tofu.
Lastly, with Yuuji's mouth now practically watering, he handed over the thinly sliced beef for them to take, each dipping their portion for a few seconds until cooked, his deep murmur guiding them on correct timing. Ino had now set his phone aside and was just as hungry, digging in with relish.
When the meal was over, two stuffed and slightly drowsy youngsters followed Nanami out of the restaurant, the warmth of the food in their system buffering against the cold wind that caught at their clothes.
By the time Yuuji had been dropped back at Jujutsu Tech, he was ready to hit the bath and sleep for a solid ten hours. Loping towards the student dorms, he briefly checked his phone, shooting a quick text at Megumi.
Back from my mission. All good.
The reply came within seconds.
Did I ask?
I met Takuma!
Oh. He's cool.
Very cool. We had supper at a hot pot place.
With Nanami?
Yup. Apparently he's big on food.
I'm going to sleep now.
Check this out. Takuma sent it to me. He kinda forgot he was recording after a while.
Attachment: 1.
Shit, you're making me hungry dumbass.
Lol. Looks good, huh?
Yeah, whatever. Post it on your IG or something.
Humming thoughtfully, Yuuji entered his room and began gathering together some of his bath supplies. He paused at the foot of his bed, head bobbing to some unheard lyrics, fingers tapping against the phone screen that lit up his face in the darkened room.
After a few moments, he dropped the phone face down on his bed, exiting the room with a yawn, the basket of toiletries tucked under one arm. He promptly forgot about his casual IG post, right up until the next morning when he roused from sleep, eyes still slightly gummed together, fingers fumbling until they unlocked the screen so he could check the time ... and he shot upright in confused alarm, spying the flood of notifications that had come in overnight.
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Now it has to be said, at this point, that being the easy-going, friendly type, Yuuji had made a lot of connections with others over time. Whether during his years at middle school, his sporting club days, or more recently, his time out and about in Tokyo on various missions, he'd managed to accrue a fair following on social media. While many of those who friended him and sent him the occasional inbox wouldn't be considered close to him by any means, his posts were often noticed and popular amongst them. Such was the nature of his personality.
And so, the video of Nanami with the hot pot, normally something that would fly under the radar if posted by anyone else, became an overnight sensation simply because it reached a much wider audience.
And what was the appeal of such a simple video, you may ask?
Imagine, if you will, a short video with simple tags, such as 'shabu shabu heaven', 'sooo good', 'too many veggies' and 'still so yummy, tho'.
Upon idly playing the clip (because it's a cold evening, and you might be craving some shabu shabu yourself) you're met with quite the sight.
First, a pair of hands come into view. Large, elegant digits, broad palms, perfect and neatly trimmed nails. The strong fingers handle the chopsticks with deft precision, stirring the steaming broth in the pot briefly.
Well now. Those hands would definitely be intriguing enough, but the effect is magnified as you witness the camera shift angle a little. The view pans up to the arms and body those hands are attached to, the subtle ripple of muscle in the broad shoulders that taper down to a slim waist, all wrapped in an expensive looking blue shirt, visible over the polished wood of the table. The man's face isn't visible, adding an element of mystery.
He begins adding vegetables to the pot, and now he really has your attention, because he has begun speaking.
And oh my. That voice.
The soft, smoky suggestion of reprimand as he softly lists the benefits of the food, the crisp enunciation of a man well-spoken, the low baritone that flows with marvellous richness across the riverbed of acoustic static from the bubbling of the pot.
You're captivated now, bringing your phone closer to your ear as you strain to hear more of those quiet, compelling, slightly authoritative tones. And then, the crowning moment of glory, the little gesture that takes this video from a solid nine to an eleven out of ten.
He rolls up his sleeves.
Setting down the chopsticks, those exquisite fingers unbutton the cuffs of his shirt with a practiced motion, rolling up the perfectly pressed fabric and folding it neatly just beneath the elbow on each side. The motion reveals perfectly sculpted forearms, the powerful flex of sinew beneath skin, veins tracing beneath the surface under the dusting of golden hair in the lamplight of the restaurant.
He continues his muted litany of instructions to whoever he is talking to, but at this point, the man could be reciting the Encyclopaedia Britannica entry on tortoises, on repeat, and you'd lap it up like the thirsty little tart you are ...
Ahem. Where was I?
Right. The video, which at that moment, was being watched by you (the imagined viewer) and Reiko from the sales department, and Haruka who you had lunch with just the other day, and Sara who loves to look up cooking videos on a Sunday afternoon, and Sukuna, who sometimes watched videos from inside Yuuji's mind with mild interest, and who momentarily thought "What a fine voice for a mortal worm", and ... you get the idea, don't you?
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Ino received a panicked call from Yuuji that same morning. He'd been puttering about in his small apartment, popping some slices of bread into the toaster and frying up an egg for a quick breakfast, when the call had come through.
"Uh, Takuma-senpai? Hi, it's me, Itadori."
"Oh, hey! What's up? Did they team us up again? Sheesh. Didn't take 'em long."
"No, it's ... not a mission. It's about that video you sent me yesterday. The one from the restaurant."
"Hmm ... oh that one! Yeah?"
"See ... uhhh ... oh damn. How do I - So, look. I posted it on my IG."
"Oh, okay. And then?"
"So ... it kind of ... became popular?"
"People like hot pot that much?" Ino chuckled. "But I mean, what's the problem?"
"It's not the hot pot, Takuma-senpai! It's Nanamin!"
Having finally come to the crux of the issue, Yuuji's words were leaving him in a veritable torrent.
"They all saw him in the video and I didn't know! How was I to know? I didn't think they'd... and now there're all these ladies and girls and stuff and they're all ... it's a mess! And I don't know what to do and he's gonna kill me and - "
"Whoa, whoa, slow down, man. I can't make sense of what you're saying. One thing at a time."
"They think he's hot! They're all talking about Hot Pot Honey Muffin! That's what they're calling him!"
Ino promptly spat out his coffee in a fine brown mist.
"Hot Pot Honey what now?"
"Honey Muffin! I can't - Dude. Please, you've got to help me. If Nanamin finds out - "
"Okay. Okay. This is fine. This is ... Listen. Let me go check the video and the comments and we'll handle this. It can't be that bad. And even if that's the case, Nanami wouldn't be bothered by it. His face is not even in the video. Nobody can recognise him. He doesn't even go out that much."
"Oh God, I'm just ... okay. Go check it out. I'll send you a link to the post. Let me know."
After Yuuji had rung off, Ino took a breath and shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. It was just a harmless little video! He'd posted some of these before himself, and there'd never been an issue. So how bad could it be?
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It was bad.
The comment section was ... interesting to say the least.
Who is that man? Anyone?
I'd let him stir my pot. Just saying.
That voice. Hnmnnghhh. Smack me on the wrist and call me nawty.
Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry -
Sir. One chance. Please sir.
Awjejdbavzbzbahsb pls ur bunny hash been a bad bad gurl
Unf, bouta make that ahegoa face rite now
And, rising above the cloud of steaming, churning, thirsty commentary, that rare peak of social media strata, the dreaded moniker that had found its place from the comment of one of the many new fans that Nanami had found for himself, Hot Pot Honey Muffin.
Ino, in spite of the chill that went up his spine and the momentary panic, knew what had to be done immediately. They had to show Nanami. Keeping something like this a secret would only make things worse with time.
True, Nanami wasn't the kind of man who drew attention to himself, but with the video now as popular as it was, it was entirely possible that someone in a shop, restaurant or one of his other frequent haunts in the local area might just recognise him. He would have to be warned, and even though Yuuji had long since taken the video down, it had been re-posted and there needed to be some kind of technical damage control.
Wracking his brain, Ino hit upon a great idea. Ijichi was known to have connections who could scour the internet for traces of curse activity that might be caught on camera and erase such evidence. Surely something similar could be done about this? If he phrased his request as something urgent, something that could affect Nanami's ability to do his job, then surely they'd take it into account?
With this new burst of inspiration, Ino threw on his jacket and headed out the door to Jujutsu Tech.
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"And so ... yeah. That's ... how the matter stands. We're worried about someone recognising you because of how popular this became."
This was worse than he thought. Admitting to a mistake was always difficult when it was Nanami who was hearing you out. Standing in front of him in the staff lounge like two contrite five-year-olds caught with their hands in the cookie jar, Ino battled the instinct to hide behind Yuuji.
He was the older one here, and the one who had recorded the video in the first place. He had to bear the full responsibility for what had happened and be man enough to tell Nanami. How else would he earn his (eventual) respect and admiration?
The sorcerer seated before them heard them out in terrifyingly passive silence before sighing and removing his shades, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Just when I think nothing can surprise me any more ... "
"I'm so sorry, Nanamin!" Yuuji blurted out. "I ... I didn't know ... I mean ... "
"Well, what's done is done. May I see this video, if you please?"
Ino nudged Yuuji  who stepped forward and handed his phone over reluctantly. Their discomfort grew as Nanami watched, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. The video ended and he looked up at them, frowning.
"All right. I can see why you didn't think anything of posting this, Itadori. The video itself is ... ordinary enough. It's simply showing a portion of me and the hot pot. So, why the attention?"
"Uhh ... "
The younger sorcerers glanced at each other. Ino cleared his throat.
"Well ... see, the thing is ... in the video, you kinda come across as ... I dunno ... kinda hot? At least, that's what the viewers seem to think."
"Me?"
Nanami looked incredulous and Yuuji gestured meekly to the phone.
"Just ... read the comments, Nanamin. I took the video down, but people re-posted it, so ... You'll see."
And Nanami began to read. Ino winced as he remembered the top comment, the one that would probably be first on the long list.
Roses are red, violets are blue, Your voice gets me wet Just like shabu shabu
Nanami's eyebrows were rising as steadily as the steam that emanated from the tea pot at his elbow, long forgotten. He eventually handed the phone back to Yuuji, clearing his throat.
"Well."
"Yeah."
"So ... "
"Hmmm."
"Right?"
"Yes."
Yuuji waved his hands desperately.
"But ... we're gonna handle this, right Takuma-senpai?"
"Oh yeah, definitely. I was thinking, you see. Ijichi might be able to use his network to find and remove the content from all media platforms. He's been able to do it before. I can make a request."
Nanami folded his arms and thought for a moment.
"I see. Yes, that would be possible. However, I'm against the idea of using Jujutsu Tech resources and manpower for a request such as this. That same time and processing power could be poured into much more vital concerns. Who knows how many lives could be placed at stake while we use the tools we have for something like this? No. I think another solution must be found."
Ino's shoulders sank under the weight of the knowledge that Nanami was right, as usual. But that left few avenues for removing the video. How else would they prevent this from blowing up further?
"I get it. What you're saying makes sense. What are we gonna do, though?"
"Ah. About that." Nanami lifted a prim finger. "I have an idea."
Yuuji stared at him, dumbfounded.
"You do?"
"Yes. But we will require some help. And some ... expertise on putting together a video."
It was then that Ino felt an even greater chill settle into his very bones as he witnessed something truly rare and unprecedented, something that did not bode well for him and Yuuji at all.
Nanami smiled.
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It was Nobara's skill with outfits and make-up, and Inumaki's talent for setting up a scene, that had led to their current predicament. Yuuji's hair had been dyed black, his eyebrows darkened. Nobara's contouring prowess had rendered his face rounder and younger-looking, eyes magnified behind very large, thick lenses. He wore a red t-shirt with a skimpily dressed anime girl printed on it and an oversized purple jacket that disguised his lean, athletic form.
Ino had also undergone a drastic transformation. His dark hair had been shaved at the sides, the top styled into extreme spikes, tinted acid green at the ends. He had been provided with a fake eyebrow piercing and an artfully applied temporary tattoo that curved up the side of his neck, appallingly visible by the standards of society.
They sat at one of the countertops in the student dorms, the background serving as an adequate stand-in for a kitchen in someone's home. Nanami was standing opposite them, wearing his usual blue shirt and tan trousers, his sleeves remaining unfolded this time around.
Inumaki gave one final check to the camera before giving them a thumbs up.
"Salmon roe."
And the recording began.
On the counter, various dishes had been set up, all prepared in advance. They looked delicious, but you wouldn't think so, judging from the expressions of the two young men seated in plain view.
Ino grunted irritably, giving the camera a thousand-yard stare that looked very incongruous on his normally cheery face.
"Do we have to do this shit?"
Yuuji stared gormlessly into space, before laughing obnoxiously and picking his nose.
"Yeah, cos Dad said if we did we could go to that one restaurant where the waitress looked like Hatsune Kiku."
Ino's scowl deepened.
"Tch. Typical. Shit for brains here is on about that dumbass idol again."
"Now, now, boys." Nanami's voice came from across the counter, deep, polished, and a huge contrast to the two choice morsels of hellspawn sitting opposite him.
"Eat your dinner. If you're both good, we'll go to that show next week."
Yuuji's face brightened immediately.
"You mean the one where they dress up in bikinis and wrestle in the mud?"
"No, not that one."
Ino smirked.
"Ha. In your face, rat-breath."
"Be nice to your brother."
"Whatever. What are you feeding us now, old man?"
"I made katsudon. And some vegetables on the side."
"But I wanna eat omurice," Yuuji whined, thumping his fists on the table.
Nanami chuckled. "Ah, you remind me so much of myself at your age, son."
Ino rolled his eyes before tugging a steaming bowl towards himself.
"Seriously? You were this much of a loser?"
"I meant that I liked omurice too."
"Daaaaddd, please can we have omurice."
"Eat what's in front of you. Come on."
Ino stuck his chopsticks into the bowl, churning the beautifully prepared meal into an unappetizing mush.
"Huh. It tastes okay. Now give me a nice hot barbecue and I'd be really stuck in, ya know?"
"Oh, Hatsune Kiku likes barbecue, but she says, in her interview with Doki Doki magazine, Issue five hundred and three, that she can't eat too much of it, 'cos it gives her gas and - "
"Can you shut the hell up about that green haired freak for like, two seconds?"
"Kiku is not a freak!"
"Are you two eating?"
This earned a blessed silence for a few seconds, while the two 'sons' masticated in a manner that was singularly unappealing. When they were done, Nanami produced two bowls of caramel pudding and slid them across the counter, allowing his hands and arms in their blue sleeves to be briefly caught on camera.
"Well, here's dessert."
"Oohhh, pudding." Yuuji grabbed the bowl and moved it around slightly, watching the pudding jiggle. "Hehehehe. It bounces just like Kiku's - "
"Oh, for fuck's sake, you creepy - "
"Language, boys."
"Urgh. I hope I'm getting paid for this. Hanging out with this loser is taking years off my life."
"He's your brother. You two have to look after each other when I'm gone."
"Like fuck I will. He's gonna become a NEET however you see it."
"Then it's up to you to set a good example for him."
"Ha. Me? The second you're in the ground, I'm gonna take the money and buy myself that sweet, sweet little Kawasaki Ninja, then I'm gonna hit the road."
"You'll see things differently with time. Look at me. I was the splitting image of you back then. I settled down nicely."
"Ugh, whatever. I ain't gonna settle down. Now where's my cash?"
"Finish your pudding first, son."
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The video, released from a burner account set up by Inumaki, spread as quickly as the first one had. In the days that followed, gossip spread in social media circles about 'Hot Pot Honey Muffin' and his two god-awful sons. The rhetoric around him changed drastically. It turned out that having children, like the boys played so charmingly by Ino and Yuuji, was a huge turn-off to most people.
The two young sorcerers certainly served their time when it came to punishment. It took ages for the tint to grow out of Yuuji's hair and he cringed every time he saw Hatsune Kiku on TV. Ino developed a very strong aversion to bikes for a while and found it hard to stomach pudding. They both decided to deactivate their IG accounts for a while.
Nanami read some of the new video's comments shown to him by Inumaki with some satisfaction.
Can you believe those are his kids?
How the heck is he raising them?
And the younger one. EWWWWWWW.
The older one looks like he microwaves pigeons for fun.
Roses are dead, Violets are a lie, I saw your children, And my pussy is dry.
Nanami adjusted his shades before looking up at Inumaki and nodding gravely.
Success.
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riality-check · 1 year
Text
A continuation of this post. Part 3
ao3
As that long-haired guy walks away - his friend onstage called his name, but Steve didn’t catch it - Robin nudges Steve.
“Asshole roadies,” she says, sing-song.
“Get fucked,” Steve says with her.
It’s tradition, that little chant. Every gig, there’s always one venue where someone with far less experience says something. Steve knows he was blunt and probably shouldn’t have said anything with that tone, but after too many times, his patience is exhausted.
He can’t even blame the blunt thing on ASL. If anything, he’s meaner in English.
It makes sense. He knows English a lot better. He and Robin only started taking the ASL classes two years ago, when he really needed it. His left ear had been pretty much gone for a while (fuck you Billy Hargrove for putting ceramic in his scalp), but he sucked it up and started learning when his right ear started going, too.
Honestly, he has no idea what caused that.
Two years of ASL means he and Robin aren’t fluent yet. Not even close. But between that, his residual hearing, and the lip reading he’s relied on for longer, Steve does alright. If he wasn’t at a gig, he’d bring his hearing aids, but that’s a recipe for disaster and broken equipment.
Plus, he’s learned he can’t focus on his job when he hears as well as feels the music.
Robin taps his arm again. You good?
I’m good, he signs back.
They finish setting up before they grab a snack. The venue is pretty tiny, a standing room only place that serves pizza and a few drinks, and that’s it.
The pizza is really good though.
They finish up their slices before they go back to the booth. Robin is particular about not eating around the equipment, and Steve has long given up on fighting her.
Their jobs are pretty easy, in all honesty. The light cues are pre-written, and sound check was an hour ago. All Steve needs to do is hit the cues, and all Robin needs to do is adjust mic levels and turn them on and off as needed.
This leaves plenty of room for a healthy amount of fucking around.
As Robin, always on his right side, starts telling him a story about her friend’s ex’s (who is also her friend, because lesbians are just like that) latest date, Steve watches the crowd file in and nods along.
His mind, however, goes back to that guy. Someone always says something, and it’s always someone new to touring. Steve can just tell. All the rookies do the same thing; they look at the stage with wonder in their eyes. This guy was no different. Just some rookie giving Steve a problem, like always.
Except that this guy was different.
Rookies tended to want to prove themselves. They wanted to show off their fancy knowledge and make it clear that they belonged there along with everyone else who had a career. They wanted to catch Steve off guard, make him thank them for helping him out.
This guy didn’t do that. He was nosy and pushy and pretty and rambled a lot, but he wasn’t trying to be a dick. He was trying to look out for Steve, even if it was none of his business, even if he didn’t know him.
He ended up being a bit dickish, but he wasn’t trying to be. If Steve were a nicer person, he’d think that might count for something.
Steve is trying to be a nicer person, with emphasis on trying.
His watch vibrates, jolting him back to the moment. He lowers the lights, cueing the openers to go on.
The set list, along with Steve’s cues, is in in a binder between him and Robin, lit by a book light with a battery that’ll die at least twice, with their luck.
The first opener is a band Steve has never heard of called “Corroded Coffin.” If they’re any good, he might listen to their music.
Big emphasis on might because he’s not a big fan of metal. Punk has better bass lines, one that Steve likes to feel in his chest.
He hits the cue when they start their opening song, lighting them in reds and purples and-
Oh. Shit.
That guy wasn’t a roadie. He’s part of the opening band. He’s a guitarist.
A really good guitarist.
A really hot guitarist.
Steve is so caught up in stating that he nearly misses the next cue. He doesn’t, though. He’s a professional.
Robin elbows him, and he turns to see her signing. For one hopeful moment, he thinks she’s signing “hungry” and will offer to get them both more of that really good pizza like the wonderful friend she is.
But then she repeats the sign, again and again, and Steve smacks her before hitting the next cue.
“I am not horny!” he whispers, clearly loud enough for Robin to hear through her earplugs because she laughs.
You think he’s hot, she signs.
Steve rolls his eyes.
I’m right! she teases.
Steve faces away from her for the two seconds it takes for her to tug him back.
“Not fair,” she says, and Steve only gets it because it’s light enough to read her lips.
The band has gone through two songs, and the lead singer, a tall Black guy, is saying something to the crowd. Steve hears it just fine with all the mics, but understanding is too much of a struggle to bother.
He doesn’t really care anyway. He likes feeling the music and hearing it with what he has left (his audiologist said it won’t accelerate his hearing loss, so any hearing protection is a waste of money), not listening to whatever the bands have to talk about.
Anything important? he asks Robin.
She shakes her head.
Steve turns back to the stage in time to hit the next cue, casting the band in blue as the guitarist starts playing a really low intro.
Did you hear his name earlier? Steve asks.
Robin says something, but it gets lost in the music and the dim light.
“Hettie?” Steve asks aloud.
Robin shakes her head. Sorry.
She finger spells, messing up once and throwing it out with a wave of her hands.
“Eddie?”
She nods.
Steve hits the next cue and uses the rest of the time to appreciate the view. Eddie really is hot, in his dark jeans and tattered tank top, grin on his face and quick-moving fingers. And Steve has never had a chance to talk to the talent, even if they’re nosy.
But Eddie was nosy because he was worried. It would almost be sweet if it wasn’t so condescending.
He didn’t mean for it to be, the terrible little rational part of Steve’s brain pipes up. And he apologized. Multiple times.
The bigger part of his brain reminds him that it doesn’t matter what Eddie meant it as. Steve effectively tanked any hope when he snapped at him before the show.
Oh God.
He has to do a whole tour with this guy. Who he was a total dick to.
Yikes. At least he has Robin, who is-
Currently staring at him and signing “horny.”
Steve smacks her again, which she laughs at and returns instantly before they focus back on their jobs. They’re professionals, goddammit.
Professionals who are already on less than stellar terms with one of the openers.
He’s so not looking forward to the next few weeks.
Tag list (this is not a regular thing for me but it was manageable this time!): @just-a-tiny-void @weirdandabsurd42 @satan-is-obsessed @honeysucklesinger @coyotepup345 @gayafmermaid @thegingerrapunzel
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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 7 months
Text
No More Hiding
Summary: When accused of stealing chickens from Mr. Sherman’s farm, Steve brings Bucky to investigate but ends up learning more about his friend’s private life. 
Rating: Everyone
Pairing: Alpha Bucky Barnes x Omega Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 900+
A/N: Not Beta'd. Some fluff to counter the angst I posted earlier.
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Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Rogers, get out here now!”
Steve stalked to the front door. Jerking the handle with a huff. This wasn’t the first time someone complained about his pack. Most of the humans were against a pack of wolves living so close to their homes. While the humans bared their guns, Steve opted for peace.
“Mr. Sherman,” Steve greeted. “What can I do for you?”
The old man scowled. “A couple of my chickens are missing. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that now, would you?”
Steve frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. Mr. Sherman was an old farmer who lived a few miles down the road. A few chickens went missing here and there over the last month and each time Mr. Sherman paid Steve a visit.
“You should invest in a better chicken coop. I already told you; my pack has nothing to do with your chickens going missing.”
The old man took a large step in Steve’s direction, his finger crooked. “Don’t lie to me. I have proof. There’s prints the size of a wolf’s paw all over the coop.”
Steve was stunned. The first time Mr. Sherman complained, Steve called a pack meeting to settle the tension between the pack and farmer. Each of them swore up and down that they hadn’t stepped a foot onto Mr. Sherman’s property. Steve believed them. He had no reason not to. They had everything they needed.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’ll show you and that brute who’s always stealing my game. If you don’t punish the thief, then I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”
Steve nodded. “I didn’t find anything last time I checked. I’ll bring Bucky by the coop. He’s got the best nose in the pack. If anyone can find the culprit, it’s Bucky.”
Mr. Sherman didn’t spare a word as he turned his back on Steve. His footsteps echoed along the rickety porch steps.
It wasn't much later that Steve confirmed Mr. Sherman was right. The prints in the mud belonged to a wolf. The pack leader examined the paw prints as Bucky looked inside of the chicken coop. Every once in a while, Bucky’s nose would twitch but he never said anything. 
“Well?” Mr. Sherman snapped with his hand on his hips.
Steve pondered if a neighboring pack crossed into their territory. That would cause bigger issues.
Bucky brushed past Steve and the farmer on his way out of the chicken coop. “You’re wrong. Must have been a dog. Do any of your neighbors have one?” Bucky casually asked, his hands tucked into the pockets in his jeans.
Steve raised an eyebrow in Bucky’s direction.
Before Mr. Sherman could answer, Bucky headed into the woods separating the farmer’s land from the pack’s home. Steve apologized to Mr. Sherman, then chased after his friend. 
“You know who it is, don’t you, Buck.” Steve didn’t need a verbal confirmation. The way Bucky’s eyes focused like they did when he hunted, and his nostrils flared told Steve they were tracking someone. Keeping up with Bucky’s large steps, Steve questioned, “Is it one of ours?”
Bucky grunted, occasionally stopping to sniff a leaf or a branch. “Omega.”
Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “How do you know?”
He made a sharp right, plowing branches in his path. “Smaller prints and sweeter scent.”
The prints made sense to Steve, but he hadn’t smelled anything. Steve hung back and observed the way Bucky stormed the woods like a mad man. That's when realization hit him. It was the only explanation for his best friend's behavior. Bucky Barnes found his omega.
When Steve finally caught up to Bucky, he tread carefully. It didn’t matter. Bucky’s scent alone was strong enough to draw the omega’s attention to the pair.
“Alpha?” The omega pushed herself into a sitting position on the porch. The cabin in the woods wasn’t the most luxurious house, but it was theirs.
Bucky dropped to his knees on the steps below his omega to be eye level with her, to be equal. “It’s me ‘mega.” Bucky muttered, his palm enveloping her cheek. Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into his touch. The moment was short lived when Steve cleared his throat. Y/N’s startled eyes locked on Bucky’s. She knew about Bucky’s pack, but he never brought them around. He never brought her to them either. The couple basked in the idea of it being just the two of them for a while.
Bucky asked, “Someone’s been terrorizing poor Mr. Sherman. Stealing his chickens. Do you know anything about that?”
Y/N knew she’d been caught. She also knew which buttons to press to get her way with her alpha. She tucked her chin into her chest and stared back at Bucky with doe eyes. “Of course not, Bucky.” She batted her lashes. 
Containing his laughter, Bucky plucked a feather from Y/N’s hair. Pinching the feather between his fingers, he tossed it over his shoulder toward Steve. Bucky cupped Y/N’s cheeks planting a soft kiss to her lips.
Steve frowned, “She can’t keep stealing Mr. Sherman's chickens. You know if he finds out he’ll have the whole town after us.”
Bucky stood, holding his hand out to help Y/N to her feet. Turning his head to Steve he replied, “I’ll take responsibility for her. She’s my omega. I’ll take care of her.” Turning back to Y/N, he squeezed both of her hands. “Come on ‘mega, no more hiding. Time to take you home.”
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innerfare · 24 days
Text
Law’s Type 
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Summary: A list of headcanons describing Law's ideal type
Genre: Fluff
CW: None // SFW
———
Someone from either the North Blue or a winter island in the Grand Line, someone who likes the cold and is more than content going long periods of time without sunlight. Also, someone who enjoys hot chocolate enough to get it for you both because he really wants to drink it but also doesn’t want to admit that he likes it because he doesn't think it's manly, so if he could claim you forced him to indulge in it, that’d be awesome. Marshmallows are an extra bonus, but he won’t eat them if you call any attention to how much he enjoys them. (I'm imagining Law with his cheeks stuffed full of marshmallows, send help.)  
A nocturnal creature for sure, just like him. Someone who prefers stargazing to cloud watching.
Someone educated, if not in medicine than in another field (this man played it cool but was sweating buckets in the presence of Dr. Nico Robin). Imagining a marine biologist with a rebellious streak joining the Heart Pirates to conduct research in the Grand Line/New World and give the middle finger to the World Government along the way; possibly a devil fruit eater (an algae fruit could be super cool), definitely a source of headaches for Dr. Law. 
The sort of person who says, "yes Captain," or, "of course, Doctor," with a sweet smile only to immediately disobey.
Kind of random but has a low-key thing for women with pretty hands and feet. It’s not a fetish, he just really likes soft hands and dainty feet, especially with well-kept nails (he’s super into blue nail polish, if anyone even cares). Really likes when a girl wears sandals, especially if they have high heels. Also has dreams about a woman slowly removing a glove, tugging it off finger by finger, and placing her bare hand on his cheek. 
More generally, dreams about a woman who's an odd clash of demure and edgy. (Is this about Nico Robin? Hmmm.)
Given that this man is both touch starved and repressed/suffering from severe trust issues, he would need someone who is willing to initiate the lion's share of physical affection, at least in the early stages of the relationship. He wants it so bad but is too scared to ask. When he does initiate, he typically only initiates things you've initiated, matching you. The exception is the first time he caught you by the hand and pressed a warm kiss into your palm; he's such a hand kisser it's unreal.
Would want someone who could cook, not for him but with him. He actually really enjoys planning out what to cook, going to the market and picking out ingredients, and putting it all together. He’s meticulous in his meal planning and wants someone who enjoys doing it with him. Also, someone who can teach him some new recipes. And someone who can make his favorite: onigiri (not the plum kind, though; he hates the plum kind).
Someone who can teach him new things in general. He enjoys learning and is attracted to people who can teach him. And if your passion for that subject shines through while you're teaching it, even better.
Also wants someone who can be sweet, but not in a suffocating sort of way. He really values his independence and would want a person who feels the same. 
Okay, I’m just describing Nico Robin. 
Someone with a slightly morbid sense of humor, someone who doesn’t get squeamish easily. 
And I’m describing Nico Robin again. 
Someone who admires his coin collection and the handful of action figures and comics in his cabin. More specifically, someone who doesn't let him put his own interests down as dumb and/or childish and, in fact, hypes him up, however awkward the positive reinforcement might make him at first. Someone who buys him a new action figure without asking.
Really wants someone who’s neat, organized, and collected, but is also calm like he is, like a very casual type A personality. He isn’t an opposites attract sort of guy, though he’d need someone at least a little more relaxed and open than him or else the entire relationship would probably just be a stalemate. 
It’s not just that he’s not much of a talker, he can get a little overwhelmed by heart-to-hearts, even if you’re the one doing all the talking, so if he met someone who likes to write and receive notes and, God forbid, actual love letters, he’d fall fast and hard. Your relationship initially blooms with the two of you writing notes in the margin of each others' work, which turns into Law drawing cartoons and you leaving dumb little jokes and eventually culminates in love notes.
Also has a thing for pretty handwriting. He probably keeps a box of things you've written because he's so obsessed.
Someone who is friends with Bepo, but more importantly, someone who respects Bepo and doesn’t treat him like a pet (so important!!!). Respect for Bepo might be more important to Law than respect for Law himself.  
He has a low-key competitive streak, and he’d definitely fall for someone who could bring it out. Someone who has a touch of Straw Hat crackhead energy. 
Someone who can be gentle and caring. Someone with a nurturing side. Someone who, weirdly enough, reminds him of Cora. Someone with a strong moral compass despite probably being a pirate.
Finally, someone who is forgiving of his flaws, someone who is patient, someone who is willing to wait for him to open up and get comfortable, someone who doesn’t get annoyed if he spends the week hiding in his office because it’s all a little too much at the moment, someone who doesn’t ask him to put his book down and pay attention (his ideal is you playing with his hair while he reads). Someone who is on his side. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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Note
Why did Felix hide from LB and CN in S5?
My dear anon, I wish I could provide you with an explanation full of such profound wisdom and clarity that you would speak my name with reverence for years to come. Alas, I cannot because, when viewed as a complete whole, Felix's season five actions make absolutely no sense from any perspective other than, "Well, if he acted logically, then the season would be over in about five episode or, at the very least, Adrien would have learned the truth which would lead to an identity reveal and we can't have that!"
To explain, let's quickly go over the various assumptions one might have made as season five went on and why they all fall flat by the end of the season:
At the start of the season, Felix's hiding away made some sense if you assumed that he was hiding from his uncle. This was a logical assumption since Gabriel should have viewed Felix as a massive threat that must be eliminated. After all, Felix was clearly no fan of Gabriel's and Felix also knew everything one would need to know in order to bring about Gabriel's downfall. None of that actually panned out - Gabriel basically ignored the Felix issue for the entire season in favor of being the world's most obnoxious Adrigami shipper and Felix, well, we're about to get into that- but it was initially a valid assumption.
Continuing along the logical path from our ultimately erroneous fear-of-Gabriel assumption, one might think that a person who was terrified of Gabriel would go straight to Gabriel's enemies for protection. However there was an argument to be made that Felix feared Ladybug and Chat Noir's wrath just as much as he feared his uncle. This was also a fair assumption. Felix had just betrayed them plus, in those early episode, most of us assumed that Felix was going to refuse to make sentimonsters of his own, so he'd have no protection if Ladybug and Chat Noir immediately went on the attack. These assumptions all proved false in the end, but they were all reasonable when the season started.
Another initially valid assumption was the assumption that Felix's ego mania and self-serving world view meant that he only trusted himself to take down Gabriel. After all, past seasons had shown Felix to be clever, resourceful, and deeply devoted to his mother, so it made sense that he'd be working on some brilliant plan to bring his uncle's downfall and restore his aunt if only for love of his mother. You could even add an assumption he even wanted to keep everything quiet for sake of the family image or just a simple desire for personal privacy.
These assumptions and all of the others stopped holding water after Emotion. In that episode, Felix was shown to be fine making sentimonster, fine outing his own secret identity to the world, and fine confronting his uncle directly without a real plan for stopping him long term. The closest thing to a grand plan that we get in Emotion is Felix demanding Ladybug give him her miraculous:
Argos: Ladybug! Good. Now we just need to wait for Cat Noir and you'll both give me your Miraculous! Ladybug: (livid) So that's it then?! You're working for Monarch! You're the reason why I lost the other Miraculous in the first place! And why he took them!! You gave them to him without any regard for the consequences it might have with the people of Paris! Argos: True, except I work for no one.  I only helped Monarch cause it served my plans! I needed the Peacock Miraculous and today I need yours and Cat Noir's so I can make my wish!
But if this was his master plan, then why did he do the Red Moon thing? That took Gabriel by surprise, but it didn't knowingly do the same for Ladybug or Chat Noir. Without knowing their identities, there's no way for Felix to reliably find them during the Red Moon incident since he's snapping everyone he sees out of existence, making it somewhat likely that he'd accidentally snap the very people that he's looking for. You can't even go the snap-everyone-and-look-through-what-remains-to-find-the-miraculous route because he snaps the person and all of their accessories, too. Otherwise he could have snapped Gabriel and gotten all the miraculouses back in one go, then grabbed the Ladybug miraculous as a fun little bonus.
In other words, everything about the Red Moon plan was focused around making a big, flashy entrance for Agros and little else. It's not even focused on stopping Gabriel since Felix doesn't seem to have planned to snap everyone away long term or at least I think that's what's going on here?
Kagami: Happy? When there's no one left?? Adrien: How can I be happy without my friends, without my father, without the girl I love?! Argos: You really think I'm that evil? (goes to open the trash bin where he hid Marinette...) Ta-da! (...only to find it empty; Adrien and Kagami peek inside, too) Huh? That's weird. (snaps his fingers in hopes of bringing back Marinette) Huh?! I don't understand! (backs away from the trash bin) She should come back! (continues to snap his fingers) Something's wrong! I can usually bring back whoever I want, but it's like she's nowhere! Like she's completely gone! (apologetically) I'm sorry, Adrien! Kagami: Sorry? You're sorry?!?! Adrien: You're not even in control of your own power! Don't you realize what you've done? Bring everyone back! NOW!!! Argos: Okay, okay, alright. I never meant to hurt you two...
Well that was anticlimactic....
Note how Felix doesn't take this opportunity to explain the danger his fellow sentimonsters are in before bringing back the people holding their remote controls? And what about his mother? Did he snap away his mother, too? And did he initially plan to perma snap everyone or not? If not, then what was the goal here?
This episode is confusing and could even be argued as a single, giant plot hole because it reads like a mental breakdown episode, but it's also a meticulously planned attack that was hinted at all the way back in Multiplication. So which was it? What was the master plan here? What's going on? Did the writers seriously do all that Felix stuff back in season four without fully thinking through how to make that work in season five?
After the mess that is Emotion, Felix basically gives up on whatever he was supposedly doing in Emotion. There's no master plan to stop Gabriel or make the world-changing wish or anything interesting. Instead, Felix is just there to be Kagami's Adrien replacement. Much like Adrien, Felix has no motive beyond "date the pretty girl and do whatever she asks of me." I guess it's a family trait.
One would think that this would lead to Felix making some interesting new plan to stop Tomoe or even joining forces with Ladybug and Chat Noir since he knows that Tomoe is in on whatever Gabriel is doing (Kagami wouldn't exist otherwise), but that's not what happens. We don't even get Felix going full senti's only because Adrien is left in the dark, a fact that doesn't seem to bother Felix or Kagami. They're too busy being in love to actually do anything to back the nonsense claim that they care about Adrien, but it's hard to blame them when it is so glaringly not their fault.
Letting these two have the sort of active role that would make sense for their characters would ruin the story the writers are trying to tell. We'd probably never get that whole "girl power" Bug Noire thing the show wanted to end the season with because Gabriel would have been stopped way sooner. It would also mean that Adrien knows things and the show can't allow that to happen even if it makes everyone involved look like massive tools. Let this be a reminder to you that you have to let your characters shape the path your story takes. If a character knowing X ruins plot Y, then you can't have both.
In summary, Felix's actions initially made some sense depending on your point of view, but as soon as he became a real part of season five, his character stopped making any sense. The reason for this seems obvious to me: you cannot write Felix logically while also actively including him in the show, keeping Adrien in the dark, keeping Gabriel a threat, and keeping Felix from flat out winning because the peacock is so ridiculously over powered. They wrote themselves into a corner and dumbed Felix down to get around the fact the same way Alya got dumbed down to make the Lila stuff work and Nathalie got dumbed down to make Gabriel's plot work. These writers aren't consistent at writing things like lore or characters, but they are incredibly consistent at the type of bad writing they have to fall back on. Expect to see more of these issues in the future.
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strawberrystepmom · 3 months
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nsfw - minors/ageless dni I will block you. yami x f!noble reader. cw it is implied that reader is a virgin, slight age/experience gap though reader is in her 20s, mentions of marriage. thigh riding. reader is wearing a nightgown. | divider thanks to @cafekitsune, wc 1.1k
you can find more of these two here and here
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“Husbands do this for their wives?”
There’s something exceptionally enticing about you to Yami right now.
You’re straddling his thighs but unmoving, the collar frilly nightgown you insist upon wearing for these dalliances pulled below the fullness of your tits and the skirt up over your belly button, bunched up in the middle of your torso. The lace neckline frames them perfectly and he reaches to playfully and gently tap one of them with his index finger, causing them both to jiggle. The expression on your face is one of soft bewilderment, features he noticed were pretty the first time he saw you twisted into something he’d rather see expressing your enjoyment.
“Hell if I know but I’m doing it for you, aren’t I?”
His smugness is nearly palpable. He glances at you, smirking. You scoff, cheeks warming. Despite your expression, the sheer force of whatever is drawing you toward this man feels too strong for you to even feign annoyance or disgust toward his attitude. He is doing you a favor, after all, by preparing you to be a good little wife for whoever will eventually wear the title.
You may be comfortable with the arrangement though Yami isn’t so sure he is when he thinks about it. Leaving you for some noble pretty boy seems like a waste of a good woman, someone naive but intelligent slowly rotting in the background of her husband's life.
But if that’s the life you want, it’s none of his business.
His hands fall to your hips and grasp them firmly, soft flesh spilling out between his fingers. Before he can think to stop them, his hands reflectively begin massaging your hips, slowly dragging you over his leg. The gossamer moan that leaves you draws his eyes to your face, heavily lidded eyes drinking in the half open state of your mouth and the flutter of your lashes when your eyes close. The motion is repeated, a slow back and forth grind over a clothed thigh, and you whimper this time.
“Tell me if you like it.”
The reminder that he likes to hear you helps you feel a bit more confident. You trap your lower lip between your teeth, eyes opening enough to look at him, and nod.
“Feels good but I want more.” Yami chuckles at you, big hands overwhelming your senses between the soft kneading and intentional way he holds them. “Don’t start getting greedy, kid. You’re still learning.”
Your needy walls throb embarrassingly in response to the nickname, the anticipation of eventual release sending sparks to your nerve endings, sodden panties clinging to your labia. Every sensation is heightened for you right now and you can’t quite put your finger on why. Glancing into his eyes you lean forward, pressing your hands to his chest. The change in angle and the feel of his muscles beneath your palms make you gasp.
“That’s a good girl.” He compliments and you don’t bother to hide your smile, leaning into him and further tilting your hips forward. “I’m doing such a good job teaching you how to be a good wife, huh?”
He raises his leg slightly, jostling you in the process, giving you a larger length of thigh to rub your pussy across. Your hips begin a rhythm of their own and now he can see the you he likes so much emerging from the trappings of her polite little life, whimpers puffing out of you with every breath you take.
“Speakin’ of,” he mutters with a deliciously low grumble, flexing his thigh enough that it makes you gasp, hardened muscle giving you the friction your aching clit has so desperately desired since the moment you first straddled it. “How is that going?” Your hips grind, dragging your cunt along the surprisingly well kept leather of his pants, your breasts bouncing gently and catching his eye.
“How’s what going?” You ask breathlessly, head angled slightly toward the ceiling, exposing your neck to him. He leans in and dares to press a kiss to the center of your throat, eliciting a whimper. One of Yami’s hands drags up your side and cups your breast, thumb circling your nipple. “The whole marriage thing. Have you found him yet?”
Speeding up your hips, you are too lost to the way you feel to respond to his ribbing. Your body feels exactly like it did the last time, lighter than a feather yet too heavy to do anything but this exact motion over and over and over again. Your clit bumps against his muscle with every forward grind.
“I’ll take that as a no.” The man chuckles, leaning in to capture one of your nipples between his teeth.
You gasp, again with those delectable noises, and even he finds himself lost in the moment, giving your nipple the same attention he gave your pretty pussy the last time you let him taste you. Licking, nibbling, lavishing you with attention. Manicured nails dig into the visible skin above the collar of his tank top.
He releases your nipple from his mouth, giving one last lick with the flat of his tongue that you clearly enjoy, moaning loudly. His hands naturally gravitate back down to your hips.
“Don’t forget to tell m—“
You cut him off, pressing your forehead against his chin, brows furrowed.
“You make me feel so good, Yami.”
That’s the last damn thing he needed to hear from you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take and he can tell you are so close to coming undone, his own cock throbbing beneath his pants.
Do you even notice what you’ve done to him? God, do you even know what to look for? This isn’t a reciprocal situation yet but his mind races imagining the day that it could become just that, those pretty lips wrapped around his cock or thighs locked around his waist.
Could you even take him if he tried to fit the girth of himself into you?
Think of something else, he warns his subconscious. Anything but that.
“I’m gonna…” you start but you’re cut off when he uses his grip to speed you up. “Come on, do it for me,” he mumbles back but it comes out in such a flurry you can’t make heads or tails of what he’s saying.
Only when your babbling has subsided and your head unceremoniously falls from his chin to his chest does he stop. His hands remain on your hips, your nightgown still bunched. Daring to look down at you, only to find you looking up at him, he half smiles.
“Any good?”
All you can do is nod.
“Yeah, I know. You’re welcome.”
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choerypetal · 11 months
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Together. / Mike Schimdt
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Authors Note : So I just happened to watch the FNAF movie and my god it was so good, with a hint of good Lore in it. Also the cast was perfect and ever since watching it, I had a thought of writing a quick one shot for Mike and Y/N. Where Y/N suffers from hallucination and has the same symptoms but a different kind of illness than Abby's. Suggesting that they see also the kids but also the man who's being everything, not only controlling them and their life styles, resulting in a lack of sleep pattern and tons of trauma.
Enjoy!
Ps : Pls don't repost or copy and paste my works. Everything is written by me, and also note that English isn't my first mother language, so I apologize in advance if there is any grammar errors. I tried my very best.
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From one call to another, Mike encountered an unending stream of repetitive "nos" and polite rejections for the position he sought. It dawned on him that he might be the source of the issue, especially after the peculiar "incident" that may have left a stranger somewhat shaken. A few days post-dismissal, someone finally directed him to visit the office of Steve Raglan, a man he had never met before. Today presented the perfect opportunity. Mr. Raglan fit the mold of a man from a bygone era, with his distinctive round glasses and traditional attire. Michael's growing apprehension made him wonder if venturing into this place had been a poor decision all along.
A hushed pause enveloped the room as Mr. Raglan perused Mike's professional background with casual interest. "Well, Mike..." He paused in the midst of his sentence, stealing a quick, appraising glance in his direction. Mike responded nonchalantly. "Yes?" His voice, however, lacked the self-assuredness he longed to convey.
"Care for some coffee?" Steve's inquiry was succinct yet brimming with anticipation as he strolled toward his coffee machine. Mike hesitated, then replied, "Um... No, thank you. I'd rather get this done quick." Deep down, Mike yearned for a stable job, one that would enable him to look after his sister, Abby, and perhaps even sway their aunt to grant them custody.
Steve sensed the growing impatience in his client, who was eager to learn what the future had in store. "You know," Steve remarked, returning to his chair, his voice now tinged with excitement – a side effect, Mike presumed, of his coffee intake. "I recognize this place. It's a place where someone like you would give anything for the job..." A spark of curiosity ignited within Mike as he leaned closer to Mr. Reglan, raising an intrigued brow. "And," Mike inquired. "what makes this place so special?" Steve paused briefly, carefully choosing his words. "Well, you see..."
Mike found himself utterly perplexed by the revelation before him. The location had not only been abandoned since the '80s but also, the job requirements were far from aligning with his original intentions. The compensation was dismal, and he couldn't help but suspect that perhaps none of the previous security guards had been paid properly either. Or not paid at all. It involved a shift he had no expertise in and had no intention of pursuing, particularly after having to bail on his babysitter to bring Abby with him. It was an unequivocal "No." He declared firmly, convinced that this man was even more cynical than he was.
"Are you absolutely certain? Your resume suggests you're more than capable for the position." Mr. Raglan made one final attempt to persuade, his features softening subtly from their earlier rigidity. However, Mike shook his head once more, resolute in his decision. He muttered briefly about the job being the primary source of his conflict, preventing him from seeing Abby or ensuring she had a decent meal, not to mention avoiding losing custody to his aunt. With determination, he rose from his chair, ready to leave the office. Just as Mike was about to exit, Steve handed him his business card, his demeanor marked by a slight pout, swiftly followed by a confident smile. "Just in case, take this," he suggested. Mike, though hesitating for a moment, accepted the card out of politeness and left the office without a word.
After his meeting with Mr. Raglan, Mike's quest for the ideal job seemed to come to an unfortunate conclusion. None of the places he had contacted before his appointment with the advisor, and none since, had offered him any promising prospects. He was beginning to contemplate that maybe accepting the night shift at this particular place was the most feasible option for now. If nothing else, it would provide him with a source of income, and the busy night hours might keep his mind occupied. What enticed him even more was the prospect of being his own boss, with no co-workers to influence his ever-present paranoia. This thought made him more determined than ever to give it a try.
On that very same day, as Abby engrossed herself in her beloved TV shows, Mike settled in to tackle his usual paperwork. It was a task he wasn't particularly fond of, especially considering how the bills seemed to climb higher with each passing month. Even though they were essentially the same, being currently unemployed gave him the impression that each payment had somehow inflated. Just as he was wrapping up his tax payments, a business card slipped through the paperwork, piquing his curiosity and triggering an unexpected flashback.
He hesitated for a moment, contemplating the significance of the card, and then made an impulsive decision. Michael picked up the card and dialed Mr. Reglan's number.
Silence greeted Mike on the other end of the line, as if Mr. Raglan had anticipated the need to give him some space before speaking. "Hello, Mr. Raglan, it's Mike." He began, slightly perplexed. Oddly enough, he could almost sense the man's smile from the other end of the call. It was a whimsical, knowing smile, as if the company had despaired of finding anyone willing to take on the position. Advising Mr. Raglan to take anyone who had agreed upon the offer. "The man who doesn’t do night shifts..." 
“How may I help you?” 
He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep gulp. Ultimately, if he hoped to secure some much-needed income by the end of the month, Mike felt he had no choice but to go for it. With trepidation, he inquired about the availability of the job position. Mr. Raglan's response was swift and affirmative, exuding a sense of warmth toward the young man's inquiry. Encouraged by this, Mr. Raglan asked, "So, from the seemingly random question, can I assume you are accepting to be the Night Guard? Is that correct?"
“Yes.” Mike firmly agreed. 
“Well!” Mr. Raglan exclaimed with a beam smile written on his features. “Now let me explain you everything you need to know…” 
Mike's first night turned out to be anything but simple, despite his initial expectations. Although he had assumed it would be a straightforward affair, the reality hit him when he arrived at the Pizzeria. Mr. Raglan had painted an enticing picture, but the reality was far from appealing. The exterior of the place was drab, with a sign in disrepair, and an entrance that appeared older than Mike himself. The eerie atmosphere left him questioning the wisdom of his decision to accept the job. However, the need for money was a compelling motivator, so he soldiered on.
As he stepped into the building, he recalled being informed that the technology was outdated yet operational, suggesting that someone had been there before him to maintain it. Regardless, as long as their shifts didn't overlap, it was a situation he could live with. However, as he prepared to settle into his office, a profound sense of isolation crept over him. Or perhaps it was a feeling he had merely convinced himself of.
On that very night, Mr. Raglan had called for a check-in, a practice that you found rather unsettling. It only served to worsen your already fragile sleep schedule as the weeks passed. What made it even more distressing were the persistent, haunting visions of them replaying in your mind – flashbacks of their appearances at the restaurant and even inside your own home. But what set your anxiety spiraling was the presence of an eerie figure intertwined with these visions. This haunting scenario ultimately drove you to seek medical attention at the hospital due to severe sleep deprivation. After that harrowing incident, it's safe to say that your eyes would seldom close.
You had also received a rather cryptic warning to keep an eye on the new night security guard, as if your job wasn't demanding enough on its own. Strangely enough, you had never laid eyes on the big boss, nor had any idea what he even looked like. All you knew was that he had a penchant for privacy and seemed to have great faith in Mr. Raglan's knack for providing these kinds of employment opportunities.
As you cruised through the town, dressed in your security guard uniform, you made a pit stop at the convenience store. There, you grabbed some instant coffee and a few snacks to keep yourself alert during your night shift. It wasn't as if you desperately needed them, but considering the unpredictable behavior of the animatronics, especially on the new security guard’s very first day, you opted to stay on high alert. After all, it had been who knew how long since you'd managed to keep your sanity intact while enduring the trials of this dismal place.
You had casually mentioned to Vanessa that you had a few errands to run. She appeared as exhausted as you, both of you affected by the recent ordeal involving the security guard. You couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor guy, always caught in the middle of chaos and associated with the color purple. It seemed absurd that something so innocuous could be the root of all these problems, but you quickly dismissed such thoughts. After paying the cashier and expressing your gratitude, you left the store behind.
Mike's night was surprisingly going well, and he mused, "It's not as bad as I thought." Despite his seemingly confident tone, he remained alert and cautious. While you had explicitly advised Vanessa not to come and check on you, yet she did precisely the opposite. Mike suddenly became aware that he was not alone. Could it be a burglar? He had been sternly warned against letting any strangers in, and he was determined to follow that advice. However, Vanessa's impressive familiarity with the Pizzeria allowed her to slip in through an alternate entrance, demonstrating her knowledge of the place. Leading Mike into desperate urgent major. Finding the burglar. 
Meeting Vanessa had caught him off guard, and he was momentarily taken aback by her unexpected presence. Vanessa, however, took the initiative to speak on his behalf. "You must be the new security guard," she observed. Mike, still trying to process who this woman was, offered a hesitant nod, prompting a chuckle from Vanessa at his reaction. "I'm Vanessa," she introduced herself, her tone light. "Security guard by day, and assistant by night."
"Assistant?" Mike scrutinized her, contemplating whether he should call the big boss to confirm her role. However, Vanessa reassured him, saying. "No need to. The big boss called Y/N to fix Foxy's lair."
"Y/N?" Mike inquired, skepticism evident in his voice. "And why should I take your word for it without any proof?" He stayed close to the camera footage and swiftly switched to the next camera, which was focused on Foxy's area. Everything appeared to be in pristine condition, suggesting the entire place had been left deserted. "And who is this... Y/N?"
Vanessa pointed at the screen displaying the main entrance, where you were standing, clearly aware of the camera above. You cheekily flipped your finger at the camera, leaving Mike torn between the belief that Vanessa was indeed present or that the security guard was merely doing his job, and she wasn't there at all.
"I informed them that I wouldn't be around, but they are rather fragile. They are being advised to be checked on during their shift." Vanessa explained. "While I focus on the animatronics to avoid raising any suspicion, I suggest you go and check on them.”
The instructions were unmistakable, and Mike had little choice but to comply. "But... what if the boss finds out I'm not at my station?" He voiced his concern. Vanessa couldn't help but chuckle softly, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. "Don't fret. He's already aware." She reassured him, her expression tinged with a hint of guilt.
"Great," Mike muttered with an eye roll as he returned to monitoring the main entrance. He couldn't help but steal a glance at your figure, noticing how cold you seemed on this early fall night. He could practically see you shouting on the other line, "Hey, jerk! Let me in, it's freezing out here!" Even though he couldn't hear your words, he could tell from the expression on your face. In response, he finally granted you access, and you muttered with relief. "About time..." just before stepping inside.
As you stepped inside, the interior of the place made you acutely aware of your luck, albeit in an eerie way. It was undeniably creepy, yet you had an inexplicable sense of safety and even felt oddly welcomed. Foxy, known to be the most terrifying and historically the meanest of them all, somehow found solace in your presence. You could have sworn that at times, his eyes seemed to lower, watching as you tended to him. It was as though he had a hidden identity, not quite ready to reveal his true nature, you suspected.
As you wandered through the Pizzeria, Mike couldn't help but notice your diminutive figure amidst all the towering animatronics. He found it difficult to fathom how someone so petite could be employed in this establishment. He murmured his thoughts to Vanessa, nudging her gently. "Maybe we—" He began, but she quickly interrupted, saying, "Not now."
As you finished repairing Bonnie, the big boss tasked you with fixing Foxy, who had been acting strangely. It struck you as odd because Foxy typically only reacted to potential intruders. He preferred targeting moving objects over those playing hide and seek until they got too close. You made your way up to his lair, pulled back the curtains, and revealed his silhouette. "Seems like someone's been naughty lately..." Your voice usually provided comfort, but today it had an odd tone. "Have you...met the new guard?" You found it rather absurd to be talking to a robotic entity, particularly one as poorly and cheaply programmed as you had discovered. If there was one thing you wanted to tell the big boss, assuming you ever met them, it was to consider upgrading the gear if they ever thought of opening another Pizzeria. 
On the other end, Mike observed you with a watchful eye. It didn't take long before you began repairing Foxy's arm and his body started to glitch unexpectedly. "Weird... I thought—" Your words were abruptly cut off by a loud and startling BANG. Foxy's eyes were now fixed on you, but they were different from what you were used to. They were red and filled with anger, just like in your recurring nightmares. In that harrowing moment, you froze in place, uncertain of what to do next. "Y/N!" Vanessa's voice came through the walkie-talkie, but you couldn't hear it. Everything around you felt vacant, as if you were about to become Foxy's last meal of the night... or so you feared.
An arm swiftly reached out and pulled you close to its owner. Mike clutched you tightly, and a sense of terror and dread washed over both of you. It was Mike who managed to break free from the grip and make a dash for the monitor room, but just as he got there, Bonnie arrived, blocking his path. "Damn it," he cursed, frantically scanning for an alternate route. You, from your vantage point, weakly directed him, "The first aid room...to the right."
Without uttering a word of thanks, which, given the gravity of the situation, seemed secondary to getting you to safety, Mike finally brought you to the emergency room. It was a room that had seen far too much use, but oddly enough, everything seemed to return to normal once you arrived. The animatronics had moved elsewhere, and for some reason, they couldn't access the area. This brought a sense of relief to Mike. He carefully placed your body on a rather shabby bunk bed and softly murmured, "Here..." You remained in a state of shock, your eyes wide as if your body had been frozen in place. "Hey," He attempted to reassure you, "you're safe now. Vanessa should... Great job, Mike, real smooth." He berated himself inwardly for his awkward choice of words.
Upon hearing Vanessa's presence, you lifted your head abruptly, your eyes brimming with tears you were trying to hold back. Just when you thought of her, she appeared, precisely knowing where to find you. You felt a mixture of relief and concern as she leaned in to inspect you for any wounds or scratches, cupping your face and keeping her gaze locked on you. "Has they had any water?" Mike, who was present to assist, appeared increasingly nervous this time. Being new to this place, he didn't know everything either. "Where... Where is it?" He stammered, quickly searching the room. Vanessa pointed in the direction, her eyes never leaving you. "The first storage room to the left."
"Y/N, look at me." Vanessa implored, his voice filled with unease. "The man doesn't exist. He's not here... He's a fictional—"
Nervously, Mike handed the water bottle to Vanessa, who then offered it to you. This time, you shook your head vigorously, tears streaming down your face. "No! I saw him. Foxy spoke his name to me! It can't just be in my dreams!" You pleaded, desperate to convince them, despite your previous breakdowns being labeled as delusional by past doctors. As you shook your head, you realized that Mike was beside you. You clung to his arm, causing him to gulp nervously, just a little. "You have to believe me... Please..."
Mike found it hard to believe, even though you had clearly experienced a breakdown in that moment. While it was entirely understandable, he tried to do the same thing Vanessa did. "Perhaps you should just take a moment to breathe." He suggested. "Whenever I'm in a state of panic, my doctor advises me to take deep breaths." You observed him closely and countered. "And does your doctor say you're insane?"
Insane…
As undeniable as the truth was, it struck Mike that perhaps you were right. Everything seemed so peculiar when it came to Abby and Y/N's imaginary friends, especially with Vanessa working so hard to conceal her friend's breakdowns. "You know... now that you mention it..." Mike began, leaning in to discuss it further. Vanessa attempted to nudge him away, but you allowed him to continue. But he stopped. And by locking eyes with each other, you both knew something was wrong with this place. So in response, you leaned in and wrapped yourself in his arm. There was something about him that felt like home. You felt protected and, for once, someone truly understood you.
On the other hand, Mike comforted you with a few soothing rubs on your back. He glanced at Vanessa, who seemed to share the relief but carried a heavy load of guilt inside, which she wasn't ready to disclose to either Mike or you. “Shh… I got you.” He said, with a soothing voice that remembered it as your older brother. Not letting it go he continued. “We are going to get through all of this together… Y/N.” 
“Together…” 
In the distance, Abby observed the trio with Foxy's humanoid presence beside her. Foxy, who felt a deep sense of guilt for what he had done to them just hours ago, hesitated to intervene to bring Y/N back to him. However, as he watched Mike and you, he felt a strong urge to protect you, jealousy even you were a mother figure for everyone, but especially Foxy. Abby noticed his face changing into hatred until she halted him with a reassuring smile. "There's no need," Abby whispered. "They have found someone... Someone who truly cares for them. Someone who will love and protect them."
Foxy silently observed the scene unfolding before his eyes, and as he heard Abby's words, he felt a sense of relief welling up within him. Watching it all happen, Foxy came to realize that Abby was indeed right. Y/N had found someone they could genuinely rely on, someone with whom she could openly express their feelings..
Fin. 
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lunaekalenda · 11 months
Text
K I N G - S I Z E D B E D
warnings: and there was only one bed, unintentional voyeurism?? (does that even make sense?) a.k.a suguru is fucking someone on the room next to yours, they're already in love and the declaration brings passion to the night, mutual masturbation, oral (f! receivingg), use of petnames as "love" (mostly love), you keep hearing suguru during some of the scenes, 17k words, author's not good at smut, fem!bodied!reader
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Neither you nor Satoru can sleep.
The idea of all the friend group sleeping at Suguru's after the party wasn't good from the start, but now, sharing room and a king-sized bed with Satoru Gojo, even though you've been in the same friend group for ages, makes things quite awkward. Because all this years, you've held a massive crush towards him. Satoru clears his throat, looking at the ceiling, in the very same position as you.
The party started early, but no one thought you would be still on it at five a.m. That's why Suguru - owner of a big penthouse. - offered you all to stay. The rooms were quickly decided: Utahime, Shoko and some of your friends use the living room, while Nanami and Haibara share another one. Suguru was clearly sleeping on his room, although you surprisingly saw how your friend followed him upstairs, giggling and taking his hand to let him guide them towards his room. The only ones left were you and Satoru.
"I can sleep with the boys. They can make room." he says, yawning softly. You've been outside, sharing a soda and taking some fresh air, and when you came back all the rooms were occupied but the guest one. For some reason, both Kento and Yu quickly turned his offer down. You're not really sure on why, but still, they all smiled to Satoru before closing the door in your faces.
And now, when you thought maybe sharing the second floor room with him wasn't that bad, you start hearing how Suguru and that friend of yours break the bed in the room next to you, which makes things even harder. You can hear the headboard slamming against the shared wall of your room, the way his name comes out in yelled moans from time to time and, of course, the sound of the bed moving along with their bodies. Satoru clears his throat again, and you cover up to your cheeks with the sheet. He speaks softly, but his words are clear towards you.
"Wanna play truth or dare?" The innocent question intrigues you, as you sit in bed, back against the headboard while you nod. Satoru sighs and sits as well, facing you, blue eyes focused on your face. "Do you wanna start?"
Although you have a hundred questions in mind for him, you seem unable to ask none. What if the answer isn't what you wanna hear from him? Taking a lot of courage, you keep your eyes on his while asking, trying to ignore the noises the other room still make. For some reason, you feel like Satoru's funny grin isn't about the noise, but about the game.
"Truth or dare?"
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During the first rounds of the game, you've learned a lot about him: he's single, he's interested in someone of your group and he doesn't like alcohol, although the last one is known by all of you. He loves sweets and has a hard time sleeping. He likes science and he has also took off his socks and sent a DM to Mei Mei asking for money as part of the dares. The game pace is quick and the noises seem to be muffled by your laughs and voices, and the ambience is way more comfortable now. You two even sat closer when he dared you to tell him a secret on his ear.
"Truth or dare?" he asks. You think a couple of seconds, before answering. "Truth."
"Would you have something with me?"
Your cheeks feel heated as your eyes find his fun ones, looking directly at you with a side smile. He raises a brow softly, still mocking you, or so you think. He gets a bit closer, nothing too extreme, to brush his thumb on the soft blankets under your bodies. You clear your throat. You might not have another opportunity like this one. The noises and moans from next room are audible again while you stay silent, meditating about telling Satoru how you feel about him. Not able to stand your silence a bit more, Satoru speaks.
"If it helps to make you think, I would gladly have everything with you."
Your heart skips a beat and he keeps looking at you with those shiny, blue eyes, still smiling, teasingly, towards you. The ambience feels a bit heavier, hotter, more intimate than before.
"I would too." Both of you feel as if a heavy burden was took off your shoulders when you speak again. "I would love to." His cheeks blush softly as he smiles towards you. You feel your body trembling from emotion, and you take air before asking him.
"Truth or dare?"
"Can I kiss you?"
He has sat a bit closer, body tingling, aching to touch yours. His feelings have been buried deep down for so many years, his fear to rejection bigger than his hopes to be reciprocated. He doesn't know if it was the fact of sharing a whole bed with you or the lovely show his best friend is giving you, but his brain couldn't handle it anymore. You smile, changing from your sitting position to kneeling on the bed, closer to him. Your eyes are fixed on his lips as you lick yours, right before speaking.
"Dare, then."
His lips collide against yours with necessity, and his hands search your waist to take you closer to him. His touch is soft on your skin when his hands graze your naked skin between your t-shirt and your pajama shorts. His kiss feels too good, and the way you've been craving it makes you kiss him more fiercely, deeper, needier. Satoru answers back with the same passion, hands still gripped on your waist as yours rub his nape slowly, fingertips dancing on the start of his undercut. When both of you part for air, heavy breaths mixing and hands still on the other, the movements of the bed next door get more and more noisy, as the pace of the knocks on the wall gets faster. Satoru smiles before pecking your lips again, and again, and again. He catches air before speaking. The air of the room burns your skin and your body moves closer and closer to him.
"Should we show them we can make much more noise?"
You peck his smile, the strap of your t-shirt falling down your shoulder. He hums as he takes it on his hand, about to rearrange it, when your hand stops him. Your fingers tangle around his large palm, taking his hand to the other strap of your pajama. Satoru keeps his eyes on yours, locked, and his voice leaves his mouth as an exhalation.
"Are you sure you want this?" he asks. He has been madly in love with you for a long time, but maybe it's recent for you. He doesn't want to rush things, although his bulge starts to be uncomfortable under the pajama. You nod, because you want him, no, you need him. Since his lips touched yours and since his fingers found the bare skin of your waist, you've desired to get more and more of him.
"I do." your voice doesn't sound like yours. It's tinted with lust and neediness, and Satoru could hear it for hours. His whole body tingles while he takes you second strap away from your body.
As soon as the fabric is not in your body, his lips replace it. He drags a long, wet kiss from your shoulder up to your neck, slow, soft, tender. He speaks against your jaw. "Ask me to stop if needed, and I will, alright?" you only can nod to his words. His lips find your jaw again, the corner of your mouth. And, finally, your lips again. Your kneeled body gets between his legs, and your hands caress his skin under the t-shirt he's using. He feels the same tingle again when you touch him, as if he can't get enough of it. Your hands touch his shoulders and his neck, his clavicle and his chest, before you part with a sigh. His hands grab your ass softly, inviting you to sit on his lap. Taking both legs to his sides, you sit, feeling something pressed against you as soon as your body rests on top of his. He blushes. So cute.
"Take this off." you whisper to him, and he does, obediently, taking the corners of his t-shirt and pulling from his neck. His upper body gets on display for you, and your lips easily access his neck. He plays distractedly with the ribbon of your trousers, needing more and more of you. You quickly take your top away, skin exposed to his hands and his lips, and he's eager to kiss and touch you. One of his hands sneaks towards your thighs as his tongue is occupied in your nipples. Your hands wander over his body, his abs and his sides, until you caress him above his trousers. You're nothing more than two bodies tangled, almost naked, caressing each other, kissing each other, finding all the spots to make the other feel good. His fingers pinch your nipple while he licks his lips. "Could you take off your bottoms?" he asks. You show him a smile before kissing him again. His hands are still wandering over your clavicle when you take them, using them as balance to stand in front of him. He lies back in bed, supporting all his body on his elbow as his other hand finds quickly its way to his own pajama waistband. You take the corners of yours, and his voice stops you when you're about to take them off.
"Do it slowly. I wanna get every detail." in his eyes you find adoration, and you crawl towards his body, leaving another kiss on his mouth, whispering against it.
"Then, why don't you take them away yourself?" your tone is a tease, and your smile an invitation. Satoru takes your lips in his as he takes your body closer, hands sneaking inside your shorts to take them down slowly, caressing every curve and every inch of skin. You moan against his kiss when his hand grips your ass softly, and he wants to make you moan again. Goddess, he wants to make you feel so good.
He parts, taking your body again in his embrace, his chest against your back and a kiss on top of your head. His hands wander free over your body, squishing your breasts and caressing your tummy, before he speaks against your ear.
"Are you really sure?" he asks in a whisper. You nod twice, thrice, showing his hand the trail to your panties. While his soft palm slides down, you make yourself comfortable, legs open and knees flexed, when his hand arrives to your underwear. He slides a lazy finger over it, pressing on the right points, caressing on the wet spots. Your whole body trembles when he does so, moving closer to him, hand on your mouth to keep inside the moans you wanna release when the soft fingertip of his index enters from the side of your pantie and touches you directly. Your body moves against his finger when he shushes.
"Love, don't keep them inside. I wanna hear you."
You've imagined this for so long, alone in the dark of your room, with a pillow under your body and erratic movements of your hips, moaning his name in low voice as you imagined it was him who was making you feel that way. But nothing compares to the feeling he's growing in your with a simple touch of his fingers. "So wet... were you enjoying what they did, hm?" his voice is raspy against your ear, sending shivers and making you drunk in it. "I bet you'll feel amazing." his finger probes your entry, slowly, softly, tenderly. He lets a growl escape when he feels how your wet hole sucks him in easily, juices shinins around his long digit. "So wet and good aroun me..."
Your legs tense when two of his fingers make their way into you. You can hear the noise of the room next to yours again, hard, loud. Your cunt pulses around his digits and Satoru giggles. "Patience, my love. I'll make sure you enjoy every single second of it." his free hand roams around your waist, fingertips dancing in your skin as butterfly touches. "And for that, I need to see how your body answers to me. To my lips, to my fingers, to my touch." he drags his hand lazily above your tummy. "I want to make sure you won't get hurt." His words move you and his fingers get buried deeper, slowly, curved, touching places that bring sighs to your mouth. He doesn't know how much time he'll be able to sit behind you, feel your body rubbing against his and hearing the wet sounds and moans coming from you without coming in his underwear, but he's trying his best to resist. Your hips move violently against his fingers, riding them until his hand stops your body. "Patience, love." he repeats. Taking his fingers away from you, glistening and wet, he observes the liquid that covers his digits. Then, he looks at you, tenderly, but also full of lust. He spreads his long body in the bed, cock twitching against the fabric. Only the view makes your pussy clench around nothing. Asking for permission as you get closer to him, and getting a nod from his part, you slide both the thin pajama and the underwear. Your eyes are attentive to his facial expressions, to the way he bites his lips with his blue eyes fixed on you, to his hips needly thrusting up against nothing, to his grunts when your cold finger accidentally touches his shaft. Again on fours on the bed, crawling until his lips are a milimeter away from yours and your hand wraps around his cock, starting subtle movements he easily reflects sneaking a hand inside your panties. Your hands move at the same pace, follow the same rhythm and your shared kiss only breaks from time to time to take air. The image is more than explicit: you, balanced on your knees, with one hand on the blankets and the other subtly moving up and down his shaft, and him, lying on the bed, leaning on his elbow, all his height making possible for him to reach your lips and, also, your panties, that are tight due to the intrussion of his hand, and his knuckles show the pace against the fabric. He parts softly to let a loud groan escape, forehead against yours, his body thrusting against your fist lazily. "Do it harder, faster. Please." he asks in a whisper. You obey in silence, pecking the corner of his mouth as an answer when he lets a long moan escape. His hand soon adapts to your movements, a bit quickier but still pleasurable. Your lips search his desperately again, only to find you moaning against each other, breaking the kiss every single second to let know the other how good it is feeling. Mixed words of "more", "deeper" and "harder" can be heard in the room, and at this point, if someone walks through the corridor, they wouldn't know to what room do they belong.
"'Toru... Please..." Your voice sounds fragile as it breaks in another long moan, your hips rocking against his fingers in search of a deeper caress of them inside you. Your hand moves faster on him without you even noticing, Satoru's teeth clenching. He doesn't think he'll be able to restrain himself more. Your hand feels so good on him, the way your body searches his, the way his name comes out of your mouth as a trembling moan. He wants to hear you, to treasure you and to make you feel good every single day of his life. He takes his fingers away from you just to rearrange your position, spread on the bed under his body before he takes your legs with his big hands, spreading them, making room for him between your thighs. What you weren't expecting was him to lower his head until his tongue ghostly touches your already stimulated cunt. A long moan fills the room as one of your hands tangles on his hair. You can feel how he keeps jerking off while his other hand keeps your leg to a side. You're amazed by him, by his skills with every single part of his body, so far, all of them making you see stars. He hums against you, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine as his tongue keeps making circles, slow, going up and down on you. His hand on his cock gets quicker when his tongue does so on you, working hard to bring you close to the edge, when your hands pull his white locks. Still, he doesn't part from you.
"'Toru, I'm so close." your voice breaks half sentence. "Please."
"Then cum, love. Don't contain yourself." His movements are erratic on himself, and you feel you might not be the only one near. "So, so wet... And you took everything I gave you.. That's so sweet, you deserve it... Come on, cum on my tongue, yeah?"
His words are the last step, as you loudly moan before trembling against his mouth, feeling how he keeps working on you, kissing and licking, even through your orgasm. "That's it, that's it. So, so good." His own hips smack hard against his fist while he leaves sweet, little pecks that travel from your inner thighs to your core, sweet, soft, muffling the moans and the groans he releases when he cums. "Fuck." With a last kiss on your body, before resting his white messy locks on your lower belly, both of you too stunned to speak.
"That was..." you start, but you're unable to find the words to keep going. Satoru sighs before supporting himself on his elbows, crawling towards you until he's able to pull you in for a passionate, long kiss. The way you can taste yourself on his lips makes you a bit horny again. He parts slowly.
"Amazing. It was, definitely." he whispers. The room seems in calm now, without any noise, any disturb. Satoru lets his body meet the bed, and he opens his arms for you. Cuddling against him, he puts a blanket on top of both of you, your skin tingling with every caress of his hands on your waist.
"Do you think they heard us?" Realization hits when the calm arrives back. Satoru chuckles, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead.
"I hope they did." His hug gets tighter when he hums. "Know what? I hope they didn't. You sound too lovely to be heard by others." You snort to his words.
"You're gonna gatekeep my moans?" they way you expressed yourself makes Satoru giggle. You part from his embrace to face him, eyes against his blue, infinite ones. He pecks your lips.
"Of course not, love. I'm gonna keep you whole."
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akumakosuke · 7 months
Text
Yay, I finally finished the first chapter of my new fic...
†Our cursed love†
This is my first time writing an actual fic so it might not be that good, constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged! I would really like to know your opinions on what I'm doing right and wrong, things I should change and so forth.
A little PS this is not going to be absolutely canon, there will be some changes to the lore and techniques so be warned. I am also fully up to date on the manga so there will be manga spoilers.
Please enjoy the first chapter of ‡Our cursed love‡.
No warnings
~_Our cursed love._~
Chapter 1- Our pedestal.
~No one POV:~
The day is like any other day to most people. The sun blazing high in the bright blue sky, perfect white fluffy clouds dot the sky, moving along swiftly with the breeze. The sound of streets full of vehicles and streets full of people fills the air.
The day was like any other to non-sorcerers.
They all go about their lives, completely oblivious to the two Gods currently walking among them, blissfully unaware of the evil seeking to destroy these two Gods.
The day was like any other to the two Gods. Aware they’re being hunted but unaware of each other.
It’s true what they say, ‘ignorance is bliss’ and our two Gods will have to learn that lesson the hard way.
~3rd Person POV~
A young boy, around the age of 9 walks with an unusually cold face for a child wearing a blue hoodie with beige shorts and black sneakers. His expression isn’t the only eye catching thing about him, his eyes are quite simply breathtaking. Strikingly brilliant sky blue orbs. His short, fluffy white hair gently swaying in the breeze.
To passers by he seems like a relatively normal child with oddly spectacular looks but normal is not a word fit to describe this God.
Satoru Gojo decided to take a trip to Shibuya for no other reason than boredom. He knows it’s ‘dangerous’ because of the many, many bounties on his head but does he care? No, of course not.
Why would he care? He’s a ‘God’ right? All these fools are beneath him, besides its clear that none of them would even be a problem, he might be 9 but he knows his place in this world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he’s been born with and he knows how to use it -albeit not well- one glare is enough to dissuade anyone crazy enough to target him.
He can sense them all around him, thinking they’re hiding their cursed energy well but nothing can get past his six eyes, nothing.
~10 minutes earlier~
A young boy with long grey hair tied into a neat pony wearing a (f/c) shirt and (2/f/c) pants that are clearly too big for him and a pair of (f/c) boots steps out of a fancy black car in the middle of Shibuya. The 9 year old closes the door and the car drives off, left unattended which would be odd if he were just a boy, although his expression is somewhat normal for a boy his age, relatively bored, his eyes hidden by a pair of blacked out glasses with a circular frame.
He confidently makes his way through the busy streets, despite his small size he easily navigates a path through the much taller adults, some only sparing him a brief glance but none question why there’s a clear gap between him and everyone, a physically space none of them an seem to cross, naturally and absentmindedly moving around the boy to avoid it.
M/n Goto is aware of this gap as it’s intentional. He’s practicing although the few hungry pairs of eyes on him are distracting. M/n knows venturing out alone is ‘risky’ because of how valuable he is but hes a God isn’t he? Those fools are beneath him.
They’re clearly trying very hard to hide their cursed energy but alas it’s in vain, M/n sensed them following him since he left his estate. It’s not like any of them would be a problem for him, he knows his place in the world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he was born with and he knows how to use it -thanks to his loving father training him since he could walk-, one glare is enough to dissuade any idiotic enough to try and mess with a God, besides nothing can touch him without his permission, nothing.
~present time~
Destiny is a funny thing, many argue its existence.
If destiny exists then freedom cannot.
If freedom exists then destiny cannot.
Many argue its existence, many chose to deny its existence, they chose freedom.
The freedom of choice.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo both chose to come to Shibuya today because they wanted to, they were bored and chose to do the riskiest thing by leaving unsupervised.
They both chose to walk this random street, they both decided they were tired of being followed and chose to turn around. A completely, random choice.
Completely random.
“Huh-?!”
“What-?!”
Time suddenly stops for two young, lonely, untouchable Gods.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny, so what is this feeling? Not the physical feeling of their shoulders colliding.
This sudden tug, this oddly familiar feeling like meeting a different version of yourself.
Luminous, sparkling sky blue orbs meet now uncovered blazing, blood red orbs and for the first time both are in absolutely awe of another’s appearance.
~M/n POV~
‘He- he bumped into me… his eyes… they’re… how did he-? This feeling… who is he, i feel like I should know… wait… he’s…’
~Satoru POV~
‘I didn’t sense him-? He touched me… i was sure i had it on… those eyes, they’re breathtaking… who is he? Why do i feel like I should know him? Wait… he’s…’
~3rd person POV~
“Cursed.” They both mumble at the same time causing both their eyes to widen, both taking a step back from the other.
The warm, carbon filled air suddenly feels a whole lot more suffocating, the feeling tugging at both of them gets stronger and they both know the other feels it.
It’s an odd sight, two unsupervised 9 year old standing in the middle of a busy Shibuya street just silently staring at each other in what can only be described as bewilderment.
For the longest time they’ve both believed them to have no equal. From the moment they opened their eyes they were forced to live in a word beneath them filled with people beneath them. They were put on pedestals so high no one else could ever hope to climb it and yet…
Their lonely pedestal is apparently bigger than they thought, all they had to do was turn around and be confronted with the other.
A shared pedestal is something everyone told them was impossible, they were born Gods among mortals, they were special, miracles, forever alone.
“Goto M/n…” M/n, finally regaining his brain, blurts out, feeling something he’s never felt before, nervous.
“Gojo Satoru…” Satoru eventually replies, having taken a few more seconds to recover and identify the unknown feeling in his chest, anxiety.
“We should probably lose them first before we talk…” M/n suggests, hesitantly turning his gaze away from Satoru and toward one of the groups of curse users currently hiding out in a tall building across the street with horror on their faces because the sheer amount of power coming from the two Gods is mind breaking.
Satoru turns his gaze towards another group hiding on a rooftop few building’s down with the same expression and hums in agreement. He slowly reaches out to grab M/n’s hand, he doesn’t know why but he just does.
The moment their skin makes contact they both jump, the feeling of physically touching another is so foreign, so intrusive yet so natural.
They quickly easy into the feeling, Satoru pulling M/n along and M/n following without complaint.
This action feels so normal it’s almost easy to forget the innocent looking 9 year old boys are running away from assassins hunting Gods not boys.
They both in this moment, forget they are Gods, they forget they are cursed, they both, even if only for a fleeting moment just feel like two normal boys, running freely through the streets of Shibuya, unsure of when they actually started running but unwilling to spend any time thinking about it.
They just run, the destination isn’t a concern to either of them and after running for what felt like both a lifetime and barely a second they stop in a dark, dirty alleyway, joyful laughter still bubbling from their chests as they catch their breath.
“Phew, I’m pretty sure we lost them.” Satoru comments as he leans against the wall, relaxing a bit more because he can’t sense anyone else.
“Hmm, it would be foolish of them to follow.” M/n adds, leaning on the opposite wall, also relaxing.
A short, comfortable silence envelopes the two Gods as their gazes lock, again being completely caught off guard by the other’s eyes. Millions of questions run through both of their minds, having finally found another like them is something they didn’t think possible , they were told it’s impossible.
“How… how did you touch me? Get past my barrier which I’m positive was active?” M/n asks incredulously, he should be absolutely horrified someone can bypass his technique but he isn’t.
Satoru looks at M/n in slight shock, now being made aware the other also had a barrier active at the time of contact.
“I… I don’t know, i also had a barrier active so maybe they cancelled out?” Satoru would have never thought he’d say that with such a casual tone, someone being able to bypass the one thing that makes him untouchable, he should see M/n as a threat but he doesn’t.
“So we both have a kind of barrier technique and they cancel out somehow… that should be horrifying right? Our one impenetrable defence rendered useless…” M/n’s voice drops to a low whisper but there’s no hint of defensiveness, simply taking in the fact he can be touched, he’s not unbeatable.
“It should but honestly it just makes me excited ya know?” Satoru chuckles, his eyes sparkling even more as his usual cold expression replaced a small grin, his heart is still pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling getting stronger the longer the talks to M/n.
M/n mirrors Satoru’s expression, feeling the same pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling moving his feet forward as he takes a seat on the floor next to Satoru, his barrier preventing his clothes from getting dirty. Satoru quickly joins him, activating his own barrier to stay clean.
Although both of them are just 9 years old, being born basically ‘God’s’ they naturally possessed some basic control of their techniques, both already having trained to use their techniques for a few hours none stop before they get tired.
“It is isn’t, my entire life I’ve been told no one would be able to challenge me and I thought how boring that sounds, they said I stand on a pedestal made for Gods and that I alone stand atop it, atop everyone else and then I thought how… lonely that sounded…” M/n says, pulling his legs to his chest as he rests his head on his knees, looking at his new found friend.
Satoru adopts the same pose, his mind and soul filled with pure joy as M/n speaks because he understands, he understands so well and he never thought someone else would understand.
“Mhm, they called me blessed my entire life, a miracle. Showering me in praises and gifts alike, telling me how special I am, how I’m better than everyone else. They also call me a God, put me on a pedestal too tall for a kid… They don’t see the view from the top, they don’t see how big and empty that pedestal is…”
M/n listens to Satoru, there’s something freeing in listening to him speak, like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the weight of being called the strongest and the loneliness that comes with it, a weight no 9 year old should even have to know about.
“Well it was big and empty but perhaps we can share it?” M/n asks with a hopeful tone, somehow already knowing he doesn’t really need to ask.
“I… I would like that. Our pedestal?” Satoru has never felt this type of excitement, the idea of sharing, being equal to someone else, of not being alone is enough to make him feel like a normal kid.
“Our pedestal.” M/n repeats, the word ‘our’ rolling off his tongue so naturally.
“So what do you normally do for fun? When you’re actually allowed to do what you want ?” Satoru asks, clearly excited to do whatever friends do when they hang out, he’s excited because he doesn’t really known what others do because he’s never bothered to pay attention to anyone else, they were beneath him so there was no point in getting to know them but now, now he’s never been more interested in another.
M/n grins, suddenly standing up and looking down at Satoru with a sparkles in his already spectacular eyes. Satoru still can’t believe he likes someone else’s eyes more than his own, his attention immediately glued on M/n. They both feel that tug again as M/n extends his hand towards Satoru, the idea of physical contact regardless of their barriers still seems so absurd but so enticing.
“Wanna find out?”
Satoru takes M/n’s hand, the unfamiliar warmth of another comforting their souls , penetrating their minds. M/n pulls Satoru up and their hands stay linked as they exit the alleyway, M/n leading the way, unknowingly staring the first chapter in a very long and dangerous book.
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Tag list-
@itsgivingitalian
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wwaheoh · 2 months
Text
“Growing Old Without Them…”, HSR x gnReader, Angst/Comfort
Dan Heng x gnReader, Jing Yuan (+Yanqing, familial) x gnReader
c/w: mentions of death, losing a partner, mentions of canon characters being dead
a/n: had this in my brain for a bit but never wrote it down. intend to do Svarog (+Clara, familial) and Huo Huo (+Hanya and Xueyi, all familial) another time.
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Across the cosmos, on all those worlds that seemed so inadequate from the outside, were billions of different forms of life. Organic, mechanical, animalistic, sentient, artificial, plants. A majority of these were non-sentient, acting majorly on instinct rather than linear thoughts that more complex lifeforms held.
You found companionship in this infinite expanse of cosmos, things you’d hold deep within until your dying breath. Yet, your last moments among the living would be ages before theirs. Differences in species would pull you apart before either of you wished, unable to stop the ride to the end, no matter if you even wished to stall for longer. Not without compromising what made you human.
Dan Heng ///
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You had joined the Astral Express early in your life, followed the tracks along March 7th, Himeko, Welt, the Trailblazer, and Dan Heng. It had been fun- if hectic and at times life-threatening. Run-ins with law enforcement, hijinks with people you’d met, defeating Aeons that sought to bring destruction to existence.
During these travels, you’d gotten plenty close with your fellow Trailblazers, but none as close as Dan Heng. Closed off and reserved at first, you slowly chipped at his walls with March 7th, and later the Trailblazer, learning of his past on the Xianzhou Luofu and making sure he knew he was always accepted by the family he protected. Once those thoughts of being turned on by his past had finally been cleared, things spiraled into another and the two of you ended up with each other. Spending time in the Data Banks, getting him out of said Data Banks to go on dates and spend time going outside. Basking in each other's presence and spending each minute with each other.
It was all so long ago…
Welt was the first of the crew to go. With the power from Nanook’s fall, the Astral Express had been able to open a rift into his World, dropping him off for him to finally return to his family. It was heartfelt, tears shed, and while they only got to briefly meet those he called family- while also seeing some familiar faces on unfamiliar people, the Astral Express had to return.
March 7th decided to settle down on a planet as she grew older, wanting stability after years of traveling. Of course she still sometimes went off on journeys with and without the Astral Express, meeting up every once in a while to catch up.
Himeko was the first to pass. Having traveled on the Astral Express since she was a teenager, she’d lived the Trailblazing life to the fullest. She passed her experience maintaining the Express to the Trailblazer, with their odd knack for upkeeping and fixing mechanical issues. It was a sad day for everyone, with many attendees from various factions all paying respects to the late Navigator.
The Trailblazer, being born through artificial means and being powered by the Stellaron buried beneath them, would live longer than the average human.
You however, were just an average human. Aging so much faster than your longer lived boyfriend. That day became apparent when you found gray hair among the many strands of hair.
A sense of dread loomed in Dan Heng’s heart, dampening each day he had. It made him ache, desperate to spend as much time as he could. He picked up a hobby similar to March’s, vlogging. Each day he’d record, you spending time with him, you making food, your outings together, anything, as much as he could. It was a bit iffy at times with how much he tried, having to pry the camera off his hands so he could continue living in the moment instead of the future.
It took an intervention between March, the Trailblazer, Jing Yuan, and you to get him to ease up a little.
One day, you realized that you felt as though your time was near. Himeko had the same thing, something along the lines of one of the Trailblaze’s blessings. Pom-Pom fretted over you more than usual, when you stumbled to get off the seat after chatting with him. They’d recommended you to take the day off tomorrow and spend time with Dan Heng.
They say animals can detect death coming for humans before humans even know what is going on.
-
Sitting on the grass, the two of you watched as the stars above twinkled, soft clouds overhead with a light breeze pushing them forward.
You loved Dan Heng, everything about him. And he, the same. Staying with you even as age came to you. As your skin sagged and hair grayed. Sometimes he’d even get mistaken as a grandson- funny but it did put a small damper on the mood when it was during one of your dates.
He laid beside you as you relaxed, reminiscing on the past and your experiences. All the fun, all the bad, the awkward, and the eccentric.
Slowly, you fell into a deep slumber…
Dan Heng weeped, for decades he’d stay up thinking about you, going through old video logs and recordings. Stelle and Jing Yuan helped him when he was at his lowest, when all he could do was cry and beg for you to return.
After decades of grief, he’d finally begin to move on. Keeping memories of you, through his clothing, oftentimes wearing accessories you’d bought for him, even if they were goofy and broke his stoic image. He’d tell stories to newcomers of the Astral Express, telling them all about his adventures and those he shared them with. One day, the two of you would be reunited. When it was his time to go, his next reincarnation would have their chance to experience life and all the wonders that came with it, like he did.
Jing Yuan + Yanqing (Parental) ///
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Natives of the Xianzhou Luofu weren’t strangers to the passing of short-lived beings. Being a fleet with connections to many other planets and factions, natives would see the passings of those they’d befriended many a time. It was never easier, the pain of losing someone was difficult, but it could never prepare them for someone close dying so quickly.
You weren’t a Native to the Xianzhou, being born offworld before somehow making your way to the ships. It was a miracle you had gotten so close to the General, with some even ringing alarm bells at how someone so detached from the Xianzhou got so close to the very top of political power. It was, in truth, all lucky coincidence and fateful timing.
Over the time of knowing Jing Yuan, you’d gotten close, going from a stranger, to a confidant, to lovers. Time at your shared home, reading and resting. Sometimes sparring for fun- though he’d be heavily holding back. You still lost without landing a single hit. His laughs during were as anger-inducing as they were pleasing to listen to.
Sure it was a bit annoying having to deal with the political business that came with being the General’s wife. Dealing with news reporters, IPC trying to get to him through you, and overall mistrust due to you being a non-native. But it came with the territory, and as you laid with him, braiding his fluffy hair as he hummed a soft tune, you knew you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
During your time, you’d also come to know Jing Yuan’s retainer, and adopted son, Yanqing. A young man seemingly born to take the role of Lieutenant, training with passion and upholding his duties to the Luofu with all he had. He was one of the people who was suspicious of you at first, being as close to the General as he was, it wasn’t due to your status as a non-Native, but protectiveness of his father.
Slowly you built up a rapport with him, speaking to him of his sword collection, his duties, spending time with him not as a soldier but as Yanqing, the kid who aspired to live up to his father’s legacy, the kid who worked so hard, that he sometimes forgot that he was a kid. Someone that wasn’t expected to be the next General right out the womb.
Over the years, you became integral to their little family. Upkeeping the house, tending to the garden, having food ready for them- especially learning that Yanqing would skip meals sometimes just to continue practice. The three of you would go on outings around town, not too often, he was still the General after all, but enough that it didn’t feel like you were being held hostage by the population outside. When you both turned in for the night, Jing Yuan was basically a giant warm pillow for you to snuggle soft and warm, with strong arms that made you feel protected.
One day, you had been getting ready for the day with him, going through your normal morning routine. While fixing your hair, you noticed something, a small silver strand. It made you stop for a second, alerting Jing Yuan that something was up. He looked over, freezing as he saw it as well.
After that day, he came incredibly protective of you, not to say he wasn’t beforehand already- but now he treated you as though you could break by anything other than gentle handling. Hell, he even admonished Yanqing when a sparring session had come a bit too close to where you sat watching. It was a bit mortifying for the both of you, surrounded by your men, watching their higher-up be reprimanded by their father.
Over time you decided to take matters into your hands and sit down with Jing Yuan to discuss this, letting him know that you weren’t some piece of glass. It took a lot of convincing but he finally let up, if still keeping an eye out for you.
One day, you had a realization as your legs seemingly gave out and you fell to the ground. That which came for every mortal, was coming for you. With a heavy heart, you contacted Fu Xuan, who you knew would already know what was happening. She cleared Yanqing and Jing Yuan’s schedule for the following days.
-
The three of you sat in a restaurant, the one where Jing Yuan loved to take you whenever the two of you could go on dates. The three of you spoke of the future, of the time spent with each other. The fun, the joyous, the sad, the embarrassing. The three of you left, heading home.
You gave Yanqing a warm hug, telling him that you loved him, and that he would do great things, but to remember to live, instead of working all the time. He cried in your arms.
Jing Yuan was already preparing the bed, a soft smile as you made your way in and settled down. The two of you reminisced, settling into the night with his strong arms holding you. As always you felt protected, secure, and happy.
The three of you turned in for the night. The three of you fell into a deep slumber. Two of them woke up as the artificial star of theirs rose.
-
Was this how Dan Feng felt for Yingxing? How the High Elder of the Vidyahadra felt as the one they loved died in their arms- pried away from eachother by the coldness of genetics.
Jing Yuan and Yanqing grieved for a long time, spending time with their loved ones, and remembering your time with them. They’d always remember to keep the garden going, cook those meals you’d cook for them. Yanqing remembered what you wanted for him and strived to improve himself while not overworking himself.
They’d remember, always. If you could not live for as long as they could, then they’d have to live long and happy lives, so the you in their hearts could live as well.
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