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kaijutegu · 1 year ago

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Alligator Body Language and You, or: How To Know When An Alligator On Social Media is Being Stressed for Views

Alligators are wild animals. Despite the idiotic claims of animal abusers like Jay Brewer, they cannot be domesticated, which means they are always going to react on the same natural instincts they've had for millions of years. Habituated, yes. Tamed, yes. Trained, definitely. Crocodilians can form bonds with people- they're social and quite intelligent. They can solve problems, use tools, and they're actually quite playful. Alligators are also really good at communicating how they're feeling, but to somebody who doesn't spend much time around them, their body language can be a bit mystifying. And it doesn't help when social media influencers are saying shit like this:

That is not what a happy gator looks like.

That's a terrified, furious gator who isn't attacking because the ogre handling her has her in a chokehold. She's doing everything she can to express her displeasure, and he's lying about it because he knows his audience doesn't even know how to think critically about what he's doing. He knows that because his audience doesn't know anything about these animals, he can get away with it. This I think is why I hate him so much- he deliberately miseducates his audience. He knows what he's doing is factually inaccurate, he just doesn't care because attention means more to him than anything else in the world.

Let's change that! Here are two really important lessons for understanding alligator body language on social media.

Lesson 1: Alligators Don't Smile (in fact, most animals don't)

So what's going on in this video? Jay Brewer is aggressively choking his white alligator Coconut while scrubbing algae off of her with a toothbrush. And make no mistake, he is digging into the creature's throat while she is visibly distressed. He claims she's happy- but she's not. He is willfully misrepresenting what this animal is feeling. That's a problem, because people... well, we actually kind of suck at reading other species' body language. The reason for this is that we tend to overlay our own responses on their physical cues, and that's a problem. For example, let's look at an animal with a really similar face to ours, the chimpanzee. Check out Ama's toothy grin!

Wait, no. That's not a happy smile. That's a threat display. When a chimpanzee "smiles," it's either terrified and doing a fear grimace, or it's showing you its teeth because it intends on using them in your face.

How about a dog? Look at my smiling, happy puppy!

Oh wait no, this is a picture of Ryder when he was super overwhelmed by noise and people during a holiday party. He'd hopped up in my sister's lap to get away from stuff that was happening on the floor and was panting quite heavily. See the tension in the corners of his mouth and his eyes? A lot of the time when a dog "smiles," the smile isn't happy. It's stress! Why Animals Do The Thing has a nice writeup about that, but the point is, our body language is not the same as other species. And for reptiles, body language is wildly different.

For instance, look at these two alligators. Pretty cute, right? Look at 'em, they're posing for a Christmas card or something! How do you think they're feeling?

Well, I'll tell you how the normal one is feeling. He's annoyed! Why is he annoyed? Because the albino just rolled up, pushed another gator off the platform, and is trying to push this guy, too. I know this because I actually saw it happen. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. He's not gaping all the way, but he was hissing- you can actually see him getting annoyed in the sequence I took right before this shot. Look at him in this first shot here- he's just relaxing, and you can see he isn't gaping even a little bit.

By the end, he's expressing displeasure, but not enough to actually do anything about it. He's annoyed, but he's comfy and that's where one of the best basking areas is, so he'll put up with it.

Reptiles open their mouths wide for a lot of reasons, but never because they are actively enjoying a sensation. Unless they're eating. No reptile smiles- they can't. They don't even have moveable lips. If a reptile is gaping, it's doing so because:

It is doing a threat display.

It is making certain vocalizations, all of which are threats. Alligators are one of the rare reptiles that do regularly vocalize, but most of their calls aren't made with a wide open mouth.

It is about to bite something delicious or somebody stupid. Check out this video- virtually all of the gaping here is anticipatory because these trained gators know darn well that the bowl is full of delicious snacks. (I have some issues with Florida's Wildest, but the man knows how to train a gator AND he is honest about explaining what they're doing and why, and all of his animals are healthy and well-cared for, and he doesn't put the public or his staff at risk- just himself.)

youtube

It's too hot and it has opened its mouth to vent some of that heat and thermoregulate. This is the main reason why alligators will often have their mouths part of the way open, but sometimes they'll open all the way for thermoregulation. This is what a thermoregulatory gape looks like- usually it's not all the way open, kinda more like < rather than V, but you can't say that 100% of the time. Additionally, a thermoregulatory gape... typically happens when it's hot out. If they're inside, maybe they've been under their basking light for too long. Heat's the dominant factor, is what I'm getting at.

There is another reason that a captive crocodilian might be gaping, and that's because it's doing so on command. Some places have their gators trained to gape on cue, like St. Augustine Alligator Farm and other good zoos. They have the animals do this in presentations that are genuinely educational. They ask the animals to open their mouths so that they can show off their teeth and demonstrate how their tongues seal off the back of their mouth. They'll also do it as part of routine healthcare, because looking at their teeth is important.

In this case, the animals aren't gaping because they're stressed, they're gaping because they know they're gonna get a piece of chicken or fish if they do it. And what's more, they're doing it on cue. They have a specific command or signal that tells them to open wide. It's not an instinctive response to a situation. It's trained. If the animal provides the behavior after a cue, the situation is much less likely to be negatively impactful.

It's also important to remember that there's a difference between a partially open mouth and a gape! As discussed above, alligators will often have their mouths a little bit open just to maintain temperature homeostasis. It helps them stay comfy, temperature-wise. These guys are all doing thermoregulatory open-mouthed behavior- that slight open and relaxed body posture is a dead giveaway. (That and it's the hottest spot in the enclosure.)

Lesson 2: A Happy Gator Is A Chill Gator

So if alligators don't smile or have facial expressions other than the :V that typically signifies distress, how else can you tell how they're feeling? One way is stillness. See, alligators subscribe to the philosophy of if it sucks... hit da bricks.

Basically, if they hate it, they'll leave. Unless, y'know, somebody has their meaty claws digging into their throat or is otherwise restraining them. (Restraint isn't always bad, btw. Sometimes the animal is going through a medical thing or needs to be restrained for their safety- which a responsible educator will explain.)

Let's look at a very similar scenario, in which a captive alligator is getting his back scrubbed.

As you can see, it's quite different. First, he's not being restrained at all. Second, look at how relaxed he is! He's just chilling there vibing! He could simply get up and leave if he wanted to, because he's not being held. Towards the end of the video, as he lifts his head, you can see that his respiratory rate is very even as his throat flutters a bit. I'm not sure what this facility is, so I can't comment on care/general ethics, but like. In this specific case, this is an alligator enjoying being scrubbed! And you can tell because he's not doing anything. A happy gator is content to be doing what they're doing.

Why Should I Listen To You?

Now, you should ask yourself, why should you listen to me? Why should you trust me, who does not own an alligator, versus Jay Brewer, who owns several?

Well, first off, there's no profit for me in telling you that what you're seeing on social media is in fact not what you're being told you're seeing. I'm not getting paid to do this. That's the thing with people who make social media content. The big names aren't doing it just for fun. They're doing it for money. Whether that's profit through partnerships or sponsorships, or getting more people to visit their facilities, or ad revenue, you can't ignore the factor of money. And this is NOT a bad thing, because it allows educators to do what they're passionate about! People deserve to be paid for the work that they do!

But the problem starts when you chase the algorithm instead of actually educating. A "smiling" alligator gets the views, and if people don't know enough to know better, it keeps getting the views. People love unconventional animal stories and they want those animals to be happy- but the inability to even know where to start with critically evaluating these posts really hinders the ability to spread real information. Like, this post will probably get a couple hundred notes, but that video of Coconut being scrubbed had almost 400,000 likes when I took that screenshot. Think about how many eyeballs that's reached by now. What I'm saying here is that it's just... really important to think critically about who you're getting your information from. What do dissenters say in the comments? What do other professionals say? You won't find a single herpetologist that has anything good to say about Prehistoric Pets, I can tell you that right now.

Another reason you can trust me is that my sources are not "just trust me bro," or "years of experience pretending my pet shop where animals come to die is a real zoo." Instead, here are my primary sources for my information on alligator behavior:

Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations- Vladimir Dinets

The Secret Social Lives of Reptiles- J. Sean Doody, Vladimir Dinets, Gordon M. Burghardt

Social Behavior Deficiencies in Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Z Walsh, H Olson, M Clendening, A Rycyk

Social Displays of the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis)- Kent Vliet

Social Signals and Behaviors of Adult Alligators and Crocodiles- Leslie Garrick, Jeffery Lang

Never smile at a crocodile: Gaping behaviour in the Nile crocodile at Ndumo Game Reserve, South Africa- Cormac Price, Mohamed Ezat, Céline Hanzen, Colleen Downs (this one's Nile crocs, not American alligators, but it's really useful for modeling an understanding of gape behaviors and proximity)

Thermoregulatory Behavior of Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Cheryl S. Asa, Gary D. London, Ronald R. Goellner, Norman Haskell, Glenn Roberts, Crispen Wilson

Unprovoked Mouth Gaping Behavior in Extant Crocodylia- Noah J. Carl, Heather A. Stewart, Jenny S. Paul

Thank you for reading! Here's a very happy wild alligator from Sanibel for your trouble.

#reptiblr #alligator #crocodile #Youtube

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kittysylus · 21 days ago

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⋆˚࿔ told you so 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

-the LaDS men kissing you during an argument

୨ৎ── . Caleb

You walk fast—heels clicking against the pavement, every step fueled by the mix of anger and embarrassment boiling inside you. The crisp evening air nips at your cheeks, but it’s nothing compared to the heat rising from the mortifying scene Caleb just caused.

“Babe, wait! Please!” His voice is close behind, deep and breathless, but you don’t slow down.

You cross your arms tighter. “I told you to stop following me.” “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to—” His footsteps get louder as he catches up. “I just—he was way too close to you.”

You spin around so fast that he almost runs into you. “Too close? He was asking if I wanted coffee, Caleb!” you wave your hands in frustration, the image of your colleagues’ awkward stares still fresh.

He flinches but steps closer, towering over you, muscles tense beneath his hoodie. “I know. I messed up. I just…I hate the way guys look at you.”

You scoff and turn again, storming forward, but he’s right there, matching your pace. “Stop following me!”

“Not until you talk to me.”

You halt, shoulders tense. “And what should I tell you? That you’re an idiot?”

His lips twitch into the softest smile, like he’s grateful to even hear you insult him. “Whatever you want. I just miss your voice.”

You sigh, still looking at him with a harsh gaze. “Caleb—”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips, cutting you off.

You huff. “I was saying—”

Another kiss. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Stop kissing me when I’m—”

Peck.

“—trying to talk!”

A longer peck.

Your hands press against his chest, but it’s more to steady yourself than push him away. “It was just a colleague, Caleb. He wasn’t hitting on me.”

“I know…” he mumbles cradling your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheekbones soothingly. “I overreacted.”

“You think?” you mutter sarcastically against his lips.

He chuckles, eyes full of that maddening mix of regret and adoration. “I just… I can’t help it. You’re mine.”

Your heart softens, just a little. You sigh, resting your forehead against his chest. “You have no reason to be jealous, you know I only have eyes for you.”

“And I for you.” he wraps his arms around you, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll bolt again. “I’m sorry. Really.”

Looking up, you shoot him a playful glare before letting a giggle escape your lips. “You’re such an idiot.”

His grin grows wider as he leans down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

୨ৎ── . Rafayel

You’re lying in bed, curled under the covers, warm and cozy—except for one glaring problem. The big light overhead is still on, shining down on you both like some relentless interrogation lamp.

“Can you turn it off?” you mumble, too comfortable to move.

Rafayel, with his head resting lazily on your chest, lets out a deep, dramatic sigh before slowly lifting his head to look at you. His tousled hair falls into his eyes and he gives you his best attempt at puppy eyes—big, soft, and just a little bit sulky. “Sweetheart,” he drawls, pouting, “I’m so comfy. And warm. And cozy next to you.” he emphasizes his point cuddling more into your side.

You snort, unimpressed. “Nice try, but I got up last time. It’s your turn.”

He groans, flopping onto his back like a starfish. “But I painted all day! My arms, my poor arms, they’re like noodles. I’m basically a ghost of a man now.” he throws an arm over his forehead for dramatic effect.

You roll your eyes, already used to his theatrics. “A ghost who’s fully capable of walking the five steps to the light switch.”

He turns his head toward you, mischief sparking in his tired eyes. Slowly, he crawls back over, propping himself up on one elbow. “What if…” he starts, voice low, “I give you a kiss?” his fingers gently tilt your chin up.

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you—soft and lingering, his lips warm against yours. When he pulls back, a cocky smirk tugs at his mouth. “That do it?”

You stare at him flatly. “I’m still not moving.”

His smile falters and he lets out another heavy sigh, before dramatically collapsing on top of you, his full weight pressing you into the mattress as he spreads his arms and legs like a human blanket. “I’m too tired,” he mumbles against your collarbone. “This is it. I live here now.”

“Rafayel, you’re crushing me.”

“This is your punishment for not appreciating my kiss.”

You try to wiggle free but his arms tighten around you like a koala. “Seriously, we can’t sleep with the light on.”

“We’ll adapt,” he murmurs, already sounding half-asleep.

You both lay there, stubbornness thick in the air, neither willing to move. The soft hum of the lamp above is the only sound between your bickering breaths.

Minutes pass, your eyelids grow heavy, and eventually, you give in—not to turning off the light, but to the warmth of him sprawled over you, his steady breathing slowing. You sigh, before sleep takes over—both of you tangled together under the too-bright light, too stubborn and too in love to care.

୨ৎ── . Sylus

The wind whips through the street, biting at your skin, but you keep your chin high, refusing to shiver. Sylus strolls beside you, completely unfazed, his long white hair tousled by the gusts, red eyes practically glowing with amusement.

“Told you this would happen.” he says, his voice laced with smugness.

You glare at him from the corner of your eye. “Told me what?”

He gestures at your shivering jacket-less self. “That this would happen. You never listen to me. It was sunny for like five minutes, and you just—what? Thought winter vanished?”

You cross your arms, trying not to let your teeth chatter. “I’m perfectly fine.”

His grin widens. “Really? Because your lips are turning blue and you’re shaking.”

You scoff. “I already told you that I’m fine.”

Sylus lets out a low chuckle and begins to shrug off his thick coat, holding it out to you. “Here. Before you turn into an icicle.”

You eye the coat like it’s some sort of trap. “I don’t need it.”

“Seriously?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“I’m not stubborn.”

“You’re literally freezing.”

“I’m not.” But the tremble in your voice betrays you. Worse, your lips start quivering, and you can’t stop them. Damn it.

Sylus’s teasing smile falters, his sharp eyes softening with concern. “Hey..” he murmurs, stepping closer. Without another word, he cups your cheeks, his hands warm against your icy skin, and leans down to kiss you.

His lips are soft and heated, chasing away the cold. You feel his hands glide down your arms, fingers brushing over the goosebumps before sliding around your waist. In one smooth motion, he pulls you tightly against him, wrapping his coat around the both of you. His scent—warm and familiar—envelops you as much as the fabric does.

You melt into his chest, feeling the warmth seep into your frozen limbs.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes filled with something softer now. “There. Better?”

You huff, but your cheeks are flushed—not just from the cold anymore. “You cheated.”

He smirks. “You’re warm now, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, but your fingers clutch the fabric of his coat tighter. “...Yeah. Maybe.”

His grin returns, full force. “Told you so.”

୨ৎ── . Zayne

You stand in the doorway, arms crossed, watching Zayne munch on your cookie—the last cookie—the one you’d been dreaming about all afternoon. His green eyes widen when he notices you, mid-bite, like a deer caught in headlights, but it’s too late. The damage is done.

“Zayne.” Your voice is sharp, dripping with betrayal.

He freezes, cookie halfway to his mouth. “What?”

You gesture dramatically to the now-empty container on the counter, filled with nothing but sad little crumbs. “You ate my cookie. The one I saved. The one I was going to eat as a reward.”

He blinks, then swallows. “I…I’m sorry, I ate it without thinking.”

Groaning, you stomp out of the kitchen, leaving him behind with the offending crumbs. You flop onto the couch, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, an annoyed pout settling on your face. You hear his footsteps approaching, slow and hesitant.

“Love…” His voice is soft, like he knows he’s walking into dangerous territory. “There are still some brownies left, you want them?”

You don’t even look at him. “Not the point.”

He carefully steps closer, holding up an imaginary peace offering. “I can warm them up. They’re gooey. Chocolatey. Even better than a stupid cookie.”

“I’m not hungry anymore,” you mutter, but the traitorous growl of your stomach echoes through the living room.

There’s a beat of silence. Then you notice it—Zayne biting back a smile.

“Really?” you snap, shooting him a glare.

He grins shamelessly, a little glint in his eyes. “How about this? I’ll bake you more cookies. Fresh ones. But…” He leans closer, voice dropping to a playful whisper. “it’ll cost you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Cost me?”

“One kiss,” he nods, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You’re about to roll your eyes when he doesn’t even wait for your answer. He dips down, catching your lips in a soft, warm kiss. It’s sweet—too sweet—and when he pulls back, you blink at him.

“You taste like chocolate.” Despite yourself, your annoyed pout melts into a reluctant smile. Maybe one kiss—and some fresh cookies—weren’t such a bad deal after all.

୨ৎ── . Xavier

You shift on the couch, curled up beside Xavier, who’s been glued to his phone for the past hour. His blue eyes are locked on the screen, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he scrolls through yet another dumb video.

“Hey,” you start, voice light. “do you wanna watch that movie I’ve been dying to see?”

No response—just the faint sound of whatever clip he’s watching. But you catch the slight curve of his lips, a tiny smile hidden behind his phone and you take that as a silent ‘yes’ to your question. Hopping off the couch, you stretch your arms briefly. “I’ll grab snacks. Can you search for the movie in the meantime?”

“Mmhm” he hums without looking up, still lost in whatever rabbit hole he’s fallen into.

You head to the kitchen, grabbing popcorn, candy and drinks, even taking the time to slice some fruit because, well, balance. When you return with your arms full,you find him in the exact same position you left him—phone still in hand, thumb lazily scrolling.

You stare at him, your patience evaporating. “I can’t believe you right now.”

He hums again, barely acknowledging you. That’s it.

You slam the snacks onto the table, tug on your jacket, and start slipping on your shoes. The sudden movement finally breaks through his phone-induced trance.

“Wait—where are you going?” His head snaps up, red flushing his cheeks slightly.

You roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. “Home. If I’m gonna be ignored, I might as well do it in my own apartment.”

He stands lazily, as if this is all some mild inconvenience. “Didn’t you want to watch a movie together?”

“Oh, wow, so your ears do work!” you spat sarcastically.

You head for the door, but before you can reach it, Xavier steps in front of you, blocking your path with his tall, broad frame. His big eyes glint with something teasing, but there’s a softness beneath it.

“You’re not actually mad at me,” he says, voice low and confident.

Your jaw tightens. “I am mad.”

He tilts his head, studying you, then gently cups your face in his large hands. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “I wasn't giving you the attention you deserve.”

Before you can respond, he leans down and kisses you—slow, tender, and apologetic. When he pulls back, your tough facade crumbles a little. Despite yourself, your expression softens slightly.

You sigh, dropping your eyes. “Do you…do you think I’m boring or something?”

His entire demeanor shifts. “What?” His voice is laced with genuine concern now. He peppers your face with soft, quick kisses—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose—before meeting your gaze again. “Of course not! Listen, I was just being an idiot. I should appreciate every single second that I can spend with you instead of wasting time with some useless video.”

He grabs his phone and turns it off in front of you. “See? You have my undivided attention now.”

Your heart does a stupid little flip.

“Good,” you mutter, crossing your arms wanting to still look mad at him, but the little smile on your face betrays you.

He grins, taking your hand and leading you back to the couch. “Now, let’s watch that movie, properly this time.”

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stainedglassvariations · 2 months ago

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Morning Showers

Non-sexual intimacy, sharing an early morning shower, GN!MC

Zayne doesn’t flinch when he hears you opening the shower door, already pressing himself into the corner so you have room to wriggle inside. His shower is really too small for this, but he can’t find it in him to care when you press yourself to his front; eyes still shut from the early hour. In a minute or two, you’ll start to wake up, insisting on lathering his hair if only for the simple amusement of styling it up, and he’ll run the loofa down your soft back after. When you get out, he’ll step aside so you can do your skin care, and you’ll tell him which tie he should wear while watching him through the mirror. Your little morning ritual ends with lips against his cheek, drops of water dripping down onto his collar, and the rest of the day seems to go by just a bit faster.

Xavier is the one to follow you in, his arms around your waist as he sleepily follows you through the apartment. You help him pull his sleep shirt over his head, let him hold onto you as he steps out of his sweats and boxers, and brace his weight against your back as you adjust the water to the perfect temperature. When you step into the water, you have the showerhead angled so he can rest his cheek on your shoulder without being drowned. You always wind up a little late to work on these mornings as you spend most of the time running your hands up and down the length of his spine.

Rafayel badgers you into it at first, but now you can’t imagine a week without at least one morning spent in his ridiculous walk-in shower. He plasters himself against you, complaining about the water temperature but never re-adjusting the knobs, and demands that you wash his hair. In retaliation, you steal away with a bottle of his expensive body wash as if you don’t see the grin that stretches across his face when he smells it on you three days later. The mornings you shower together are playful and sweet, with soap bubbles being blown and water flicked into each other’s faces. By the time you get out, you’re pruned and slightly overheated while he looks unfairly refreshed and moisturized.

Sylus carries you in on the mornings you have no desire to get out of bed. His hands are gentle as they take off your clothes, big palms keeping you warm against the early morning chill. He sits you between his legs, moving the showerhead over your body before getting a nice lather with the bodywash he made you pick out weeks before. You almost fall back asleep leaning against his thigh while he massages your shoulders, barely aware when he reaches down to lift you back up against him so he can wash your legs. The robe he wraps you in after he’s done is sinfully soft, warmed on the heated towel rack, and you’re reluctant to leave when your alarm shatters the morning peace. Thinking back on it once the haze of sleep clears, you think that may have been the entire point.

Caleb is too big for you two to be sharing the shower in your apartment, but that doesn’t stop you from squeezing into what little space is left. He laughs when he feels your arms around his waist, cheekily asking if you have room to breathe back there, but his hands hold fast to yours as if afraid you’ll slink away. You respond with a light nip to his shoulder and demand the hot water to be made even hotter. Underneath the spray, the two of you talk about anything and everything, making plans for the coming days you’re together. When it’s time to rinse the suds off, it’s a careful dance to get beneath the showerhead without knocking anything off the walls. After, the two of you fight for space in front of the mirror like when you were teens. It ends with you warning Caleb not to get toothpaste in your hair as he brushes his teeth over your head, you tucked against his bare chest.

#love and deepspace #lads #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads sylus #lads caleb #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #caleb x reader

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seumyo · 3 months ago

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a softie for sentimentality, bakugou katsuki.

Bakugou wears a bracelet. You’ve known about it for as long as you could remember, but only decided to acknowledge it now that you’re in your third year at UA, two weeks before graduation.

It wasn’t flashy or adorned with any kind of logo—just a simple, sturdy piece of metal with a stainless clasp that he seemed to wear all the time. You tilted your head as you studied it.

“You’ve had that bracelet for as long as I can remember,” you said, sitting down on his study chair. It’s a privilege to even set foot inside of his room without immediately being told (yelled) off, really.

Bakugou looked up from his book and glanced at you. “Yeah, and?”

“Is there, like, a story behind it?”

“No story,” he said with a shrug, but you weren’t entirely convinced.

“Really? That’s so bland. I thought there’d be like a gut-wrenching or life-changing story for it.”

He sat up from his bed with a huff, his eyes narrowing at you. “It’s just somethin’ I wear. What’s it to you?”

You raised your hands in mock surrender, a playful smile on your lips. “Alright, Mr. Mysterious. Keep your secrets.”

“Fuck off, dipshit.”

“Again with that! Why can’t you be nicer now that we’re graduating?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

But the conversation stuck to you.

It’s the day of graduation when you presented him with a small, handmade box. It was simple, made of sturdy cardboard decorated with his signature colors and an orange ribbon to match. Bakugou rose a brow.

“What’s this for?” He asks, holding it up like the box might explode at any given moment, though there was no bite to it.

“A box.”

“No shit,” he scoffs, “what’s in it?”

“Open it to find out!” You egged him on.

Bakugou sighs, opening the box with a focused pout. He went quiet when he saw what was inside.

“Ta-da! A bracelet,” you said, smiling. “For you. Thought you could use something new to switch things up.”

He held the stringed bracelet in his hand, looking at the material as if it would erupt in flames if he glared hard enough. It was a stark contrast to his metal one—brightly colored warm complementary beads with little charms that somehow still managed to feel like him. There was a red charm shaped like an explosion, a black bead with a skull design, and a small silver charm with an engraved kanji for “strength.”

“I’m not wearing this,” he said flatly.

It’s like your cartoonish heart balloon had suddenly been popped with a prickly needle.

“What? Why not? It’s cool!” you argued. “I even made it myself to really match you!”

“It’s not my style.”

“Sure it is. Look, it’s got black, silver, and even a little red—it screams Bakugou Katsuki.”

“I didn’t get you anythin’ as a parting gift,” he tells you.

“Don’t worry about it! It’s fine,” you replied, waving your hand in dismissal. “Just thought this’ll go with your metal bracelet.”

He nodded, though there was a somewhat frustrated pout on his expression, muttering something under his breath a soft “thanks,” and placed the gift back in the box, never actually letting you see him wearing it during that moment.

Years later, during a photoshoot for the yearly hero gala, Bakugou stood in front of the camera in his full Dynamight suit. The photographer adjusted the lights, snapping rapid shots as Bakugou struck his signature confident poses.

“Hold still,” the stylist said, adjusting his gauntlet slightly. Her eyes flicked to his wrist, and she paused. “Oh, that’s cute. Is that handmade?”

Bakugou blinked, following her gaze. Wrapped around his wrist, right next to his ever-present metal bracelet, was the colorful string bracelet you had made him all those years ago.

He stiffened slightly, but instead of taking it off, he shrugged. “Yeah. What about it?”

The stylist smiled warmly. “It’s a nice touch. Makes you seem... approachable. And quite frankly, it matches your suit.”

Bakugou snorted. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

When the photos surfaced online, fans quickly noticed the bracelet. Social media practically exploded that day.

Is Dynamight wearing a friendship bracelet??

A HANDMADE BRACELET ON DYNAMIGHT??

Guys, he’s worn this thing for YEARS. Check the old pictures! 🙂‍↔️

You, of course, caught wind of the news—because honestly, who wouldn’t when it took all social media platforms by storm? You saw the posts one evening while scrolling through your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the photos. It was unmistakable—the bracelet you had made all those years ago.

Long after your UA days were behind you and your lives had taken you and Bakugou down different paths, the all-too-familiar bracelet made you smile sadly—more nostalgic happiness than actual sadness, really.

You stared at the screen, sighing quietly. You thought back to the last time you’d spoken, to the unspoken decision that had pulled you in different directions. You never thought something as small as a bracelet would still mean anything to him.

You didn’t even think you’d live to see the day he wears it, much less keep it after the years.

But there it was, bright and unapologetic on his wrist, a subtle reminder of a bond that hadn’t completely faded with time.

Somewhere across the city, Bakugou stood on a rooftop, the evening wind tugging at his hero uniform. He glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist, running his thumb over the frayed edges of the string. He smirked to himself, a quiet acknowledgment of the past and the person who’d given it to him.

“Guess you were right,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. “It does scream Bakugou Katsuki.”

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werewolfdog · 1 month ago

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There's this coworker who I can't help but think he's acting like a father figure to me

#he's constantly so worried about me and he occasionally gives me shoulder pats to be playful + esp. comforting with me #which in the past two months of working here no one in this group home staff team has ever touched me #also today he gave me few of his last candies when he didn't have to???#he gave me four of them already last week for the Lunar New Year so I was surprised he'd let me have more #there's certain aspects of him I don't like #such as I don't appreciate how he told a coworker today I cried when he should've stay on his lane about it #( I can get if it's out of concern - him trying to tell the other to go easy on me after I made a few mistakes last night shift but still )#although overall he still treats me very sweet and it makes me feel like a kid which is fine in general cases with him #but it's just nice having someone like him around and making me feel appreciated and cared about #💭

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nezuscribe · 4 months ago

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you’re glad to have a friend like arranged!gojo, it feels good to have somebody to talk to and listen to. you feel nice being able to laugh with somebody and not apologize for the awful jokes or strange things you say. but sometimes you have to stop yourself from getting attached, reminding yourself that he won’t care for you like that.

and though that’s the farthest from the truth, it’s what you’ve convinced yourself. so when your birthday comes around, you decide to celebrate the way you always have, alone.

he’s your friend, not a husband, so you don’t see any need in dragging him into this ordeal.

you bake a little cake for yourself a couple day in advance, just like you used to at your old home. you stash it away for when night rolls around and it’s just yourself, you can enjoy it the way you have for years.

when you were little you would gawk and stare at the lavish parties your father and his wife threw for your sisters, the balls and the presents growing bigger and bigger the more they grew up. you’d mimic their behaviors on your own, dressing up in the best dress you had (a hand me downs from your older sister that never fit quite right) and pretended you too were surrounded by a room of people as they watched you eat cake.

and sure, when you were younger you’d feel embarrassed eating by yourself surrounded by drawings of people you’d prop up on chairs, but it’s become tradition now (not the drawings, you realize now how depressing that must’ve looked).

so the night of your birthday you take the cake you had hidden in the back of the ice den out, bringing it to the corner of the kitchens where the cooks kept the little table for themselves and began cutting into it, cursing yourself for freezing it too long.

you serve yourself a piece, hunching over your plate as you dug in with your fork, eating in silence.

you write a little note for the cooks to enjoy the rest of it as you place it back in the den once you were done, going back to your room for the night.

the following day when you were walking around the library looking for something new you spot gojo talking to one of his advisors, his eyes focused and his tilted slightly as he gave him all of his attention.

you pause, holding back until you were sure they were done with their conversation to reveal yourself from behind one of the looming bookshelves, watching as the advisor bowed his head to you before he left.

the crease between his eyebrows relaxes, his eyes softening when you waved at him, your smile gleaming.

“i didn’t see you for breakfast,” he tells you as he walks over to where you were standing, pushing some of his hair back as you grin apologetically.

“i slept in,” you admit sheepishly, tired from last night as you play with your fingers, “i also might’ve been a little snippy with alina when she tried to wake me up.”

gojo snorts, absentmindedly pulling some books out and putting them back in as he rests his side on the wall of binded pages.

“baking?” he asks simply, knowing you well enough to know that the only reason you’d miss breakfast would be because you spent the majority of the night in the kitchens.

“how’d you know?” you tease, crossing your arms over your chest as he tsks, his fingers picking some stray leaves from your head from earlier when you were walking through the gardens.

“i help whisk the butter and sugar when you don’t feel like it. i don’t know why you keep me out of the kitchens,” he murmurs petulantly and you chuckle a little bit, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“it’s for your own sake,” you tell him, a glimmer in your eyes that he’d chase around the world the see, “and besides, i wasn’t baking. i was enjoying the fruits of my previous labor.”

gojo squints a little bit, confused. usually you eat what you make the night of, sometimes bringing a plate by his room if it’s not too late.

“when else did you bake this week without me?” he asks, trying to mask his hurt with a playful grin, trying to recall the times he heard back from one of his guards that you were down in the kitchens.

“only a few days ago, when i trying to assemble the cake.” you say with a shrug. his mouth opens in shock, a pout on his lips as he averts your gaze.

“you had cake? without me?” he almost whines it out and you shove his boot with the point of your shoe, trying to calm him down.

who would’ve thought the most fearsome warrior of the north, hell, the entire kingdom, would have such a sweet-tooth?

“it was small,” you try to reason, “and you wouldn’t have liked the flavors. it’s a recipe from the west.”

gojo groans, stepping closer to you as he gently flick your nose, watching the way you’d scrunch it up in annoyance.

“but you know i love cake,” he murmurs, “and you said you’d only bake it for birthdays…you lied to me,” his pink lips pull into a pout, one that you want to kiss off his gorgeous face, and control yourself from letting the heat get too much in your cheeks.

“well,” you quirk a brow, “if it helps, it was for a birthday.”

gojo looks up from the ground, brows furrowed once again in confusion.

“mine?” he says a little hopefully, as if it was anywhere near his birthday.

you snort, shaking your head as your finger pokes itself in your chest.

“mine…you idiot,” you mutter under your breath, wondering how somebody how his caliber could be so daft.

but he doesn’t seem to find it funny, in fact, his brows seem to meet in the middle, the pout gone form his lips as he frowns.

“what do you mean yours? your birthday isn’t for…? isn’t it in…?” he tries to think, think back to when your birthday was, only to realize he didn’t know, to realize he’d never asked you about it, always assuming it’d be something told to him.

“it’s nothing big,” you try to say quickly to cover up the awkwardness, “i usually just make myself a cake and get it over with.” you say with a chuckle but he’s not finding anything about this humorous.

great, you think bitterly to yourself, said something else and fucked it up. you wince, wishing you’d just stayed quite.

“your birthday was yesterday?” gojo asks, his voice hushed and heavy. he looks like he cares, he looks sad. you find it unnerving.

“i,” you laugh uncomfortably, fidgeting with your ring as you swallow thickly, “i think so...? i eyeball the day every year.”

truth be told you done really know what day you were born. your father never remembered the exact date seeing how the nature of his relationship with your mother was so secretive, and nobody ever found the true date out. so usually you find a date each year that you think matches with what time season you were born with and go with that.

gojo feels like his heart has slowed, watching the way you shrink into yourself the way he notices you’d i when you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

“eyeball?” he bites out and you wince at his tone, and he wishes he could take it back and start over again without the bite of a general in his words.

“look gojo it’s nothing, really,” you insist, waving him off as you try to escape, shifting around so you were closer to the doorway, “it’s just a day, it’s nothing important,” you tell him reassuringly.

but he doesn’t believe you, running a hand down his face as he pinches at the bridge of your nose.

“why do you write these things off as if they’re not important?” his voice is deep, echoing around the walls of the vast library as your hold your breath, “why don’t you-”

“because it’s not important,” you say again, your voice a little bit harsher, “it’s just a day.”

his eyes drown in blue, dark and wavering like the shoreline.

“then why bake a cake?” he snaps, not in anger but in genuine questioning, and your face falls a little.

maybe because years ago you thought it was something important. maybe because you want that little girl to feel like she matters.

he gapes, knowing he said something wrong, but can’t speak.

“i…” you open your mouth then close it again, looking away from him as you shrug, “i have to go, i - um, shoko asked for me.” you lie lamely, not caring as you bow your head down slightly to him before you briskly leave.

and maybe if you turned back you could see the way his face fell too.

but with all the maybes you’ve told yourself no to, you’ve grown accustomed to the belief that every maybe wouldn’t have a chance of becoming something.

because maybe if you had actually told him the truth when you wanted to a couple days ago, that you’d like to celebrate with him, he wouldn’t shut you down the way you’d imagined he would and maybe he would’ve said yes.

but for now you convince yourself that this man is a friend who pretends like he cares. because never once have you heard of a man caring so deeply for somebody that he’d shed a tear over the fact that you’d celebrate your birthday alone. but then again, you’ve never met a man like gojo before.

#gojo x reader #gojo x reader angst #gojo x you #gojo drabble #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk drabble #satoru x reader #jjk x you #arranged!gojo

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nochepsicodelica · 4 months ago

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The door to your shared bedroom creaks open, and Toji is greeted by the sight of you sleeping. It's five in the afternoon and you're bundled up in the covers, soft breaths exiting through your mouth because your nose is congested. You look all cozy, like a hibernating bear, on his side of the bed. It would be a more adorable sight under different circumstances, but this is the product of you catching a cold.

Toji sets the small bag filled with your medicine and other little things he hopes will make you feel better, on his nightstand. He crouches down in front of you and brings a noticeably cooler hand to your heated cheek.

"Hey," Toji calls, gently pinching your cheek. Your hearing must be muffled, because you don't budge and remain in your deep sleep. "Ma," he tries again, shaking you by your shoulder this time. You stir and attempt to roll over in the other direction, towards the center of the bed, but Toji keeps you steady by tugging on the blanket you're cocooned in. "Wake up, mama. Just for a little. I got your stuff. Medicine, snacks— you probably won't be able to taste them, but they're there."

You open your eyes, and simply blink. The room is darker and more shadowy since you went down for your supposed nap. It's been hours, but your body still feels so tired and your head is pulsing.

"How are you feeling?" Toji asks.

You were trying to say "so so", but no sound came out, so it seemed like you were mouthing the words instead. You felt the effort your vocal cords made, but your voice was shot. Nothing is audible unless it's strained. A huff and a roll of your eyes let Toji know how bad of a time you were having.

"Gotcha," Toji responds to your attempt to speak, a soft smile on his face.

He stands up from his crouched position and turns to the bag on his nightstand, rummaging through it to grab the box of medicine at the bottom and your water bottle. He sees you untangling yourself from the covers and sitting up to rest against the headboard, in his peripheral vision. Your hair is messy, some of it is stuck to your forehead from how much you've been sweating, even though you've felt cold the whole time. You can't breathe properly out of your nose, and your throat is sore. Your entire demeanor just screams "sick".

Toji offers you two gel capsules and twists the cap off your bottle of water, before handing it to you as well. You toss the pills into your mouth, and wash them down with a swig of water. In an attempt to clear your nose, you sniff a few times, getting absolutely no change in your ability to breathe through your nose.

"Go back to sleep. I'll get you some soup for when you wake up, 'kay?"

You nod and set your water bottle down on Toji's nightstand, before you slide back down the bed and shift comfortably onto your side. The blanket is wrapped around you, again, and you're ready to shut your eyes. Toji comes closer, crouching down like he did when he woke you up.

"Mm-mm," you hum, the sound cracked and barely audible, a response to Toji leaning in and trying to kiss you.

"Come on, ma. It's been a whole day. Just one. A peck?"

"No," you whisper, only able to communicate verbally in this hushed voice.

"Oh. You want me to have two?" He says, with a playful smirk.

You give him a deadpan expression and shift in the blanket, bringing it up to cover your mouth.

"Okay, fine. Just one."

You shake your head, minimally. Just enough so that you don't shake your brain and make your head hurt even more, and he still gets the message.

"Be nice, mama. Just one, then i'll leave you alone--" he pauses, briefly, "--until I come back with your soup. Then you gotta give me another one. You know, Toji Tax."

You roll your eyes and huff. The Toji Tax is just Toji's way of getting extra loving from you. There's a Toji Tax on just about everything he does for you, so you're not surprised that your sickness doesn't exempt you from it.

Your reaction showed the signs that let Toji know that he's about to get what he wants. The barrier you raised over your mouth is lowered, your involuntary pout now on full display, ready to be kissed whenever Toji's ready.

"Don't look too excited," Toji jests. He chuckles at the gloomy expression on your face. You look absolutely miserable in this state. It's adorable, and while he would love to keep teasing you, he decides to move faster so that you can get your rest.

It starts with a peck—as promised. He's slow with separating his lips from yours, to keep the contact with you going for as long as possible. Then he goes in for another one—just as gentle and delayed in separation. You still haven't done anything to stop him, so he keeps going in for more and more, each kiss more fervent than the last. Within seconds, he's barraging you with quick kisses, back to back, as if to make up for the last twenty-four hours he went without feeling your soft lips against his. He's getting closer, almost climbing into bed with you, so you hum and turn your head. He starts following your movement, like an eager puppy, chasing after more of your kisses.

"Don't care if I get sick, ma."

You hum in disapproval and push his face away when he starts leaning in, again. Quickly, you cover your head with the blanket and roll to the other side of the bed.

Toji sighs, a mischievous smirk lingering on his face. He got way more than he expected, but when it comes to you, he can never have enough. He stands up from the awkward position he got himself into while he chased after your lips, and looks at your bundled up figure, now out of his reach.

"I'll be back, doll. Gonna go get your soup, but remember... Toji Tax."

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