#proof reading? formatting? no | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daddyplasmius · 6 months ago

Text

this is let grief do its work, a fic (currently unedited rip) I started as a kind of sister fic to hand on my stupid heart, another fic I'd written earlier and uh. yeah. you guessed it. haven't finished. I'm working on this on the side, Flying Over the Pit of Death + its sister fic & my original novels being my main focuses right now. I will most likely continue lgdiw sometime in the future, it just isn't my main priority. Like all of my fics, this idea is free for anyone to take & run with. if/when I finish this fic, the edited version will go on ao3. For context: this is just a prologue of sorts, depicting vaguely what is happening on the human side of the Portal the month after the Accident. On Danny's side, he's been chillin' in the Ghost Zone, where he ended up after half-dying, believing he's fully dead (he's not) & only realized he's still alive after it was too late for him to tell everyone what happened cuz like, awkward & embarrassing lol. HOMSH takes place a year later, when things come to a head. I feel it's important to reiterate that, although Danny isn't actually dead, the characters think he is & act accordingly. okay author's infodump note complete, fic under a readmore

“when they first go, let yourself think every selfish, no-good, dirty, angry, filthy, horrible thought. let the waves of anger wash through you. let grief do its work.” ーCaitlyn Siehl; Grief Counseling

On the first day, Sam had thought that, maybe, Danny was just busyーtoo busy to answer their texts, and their calls, and everything else. But then Tucker called her. It was a horrible game of telephone at first. Danny’s parents told Jazz, who told Tucker, who told Sam, and that’s how the communication went for two days until she and Tuck had enough.

They went to FentonWorks, the big, ugly building on the corner of Mockingbird and Cedar, and were surprised to find no one home at all. Not even Jazz. And, for the first time since they’d known the Fentons, the doors were locked. And when they tried to talk to Jazz later, they would find that they’ve officially filed a police report.

ー

Danny Fenton is missing. The last time Sam talked to him she was making fun of him, for being too scared to go check out the Fentons’ new Ghost Portal. She knew he was freaked out by stuff like thatーby ghosts. Now she doesn’t know if she’ll ever see him again.

There’s just no way. He can’t be gone. She literally saw him on Saturday. His empty seat in homeroom on the first day of school is the thing that does it. There’s this gap in the desks where he should be, but he’s not. Like he’s already haunting her.

It makes her sick. Everythingーeverything in her head, everything she knows. Despite what Dash and his asshole friends say, Danny wouldn’t run away. And the longer a person is missing, the more likely it is that they’reー

Sam doesn’t wait for the bell. She leaves Tucker in homeroom, goes straight to the bathroom, and wipes her face down in the sink, water turning black. Suddenly, everything macabre, everything dark and creepyーit just disgusts her.

She goes home early. No one even says anything, not the school, not her parents, not Tucker. Alone in her room, Sam starts to shake. She sobs once, something seething just under her skin. She stalks over to the wall where most of her horror movie posters are taped and starts tearing them down, one by one.

ー

Danny Fenton has been missing for a week, and Tucker, staring at the sweater his best friend forgot at his house, laid across his computer chair, thinks he’s starting to feel it.

Opening his phone, he feels it again. Looking at his texts, he feels it again, and again, and again.

Saturday • 4:47 p.m. Danny Phantom: xD Danny Phantom: not playing tonight, ghost portal opening night 👻 Danny Phantom: can play tmrw tho Too Fine: hell ya txt u then Danny Phantom: 👍 Sunday • 10:20 a.m. Too Fine: yo still up 4 doomed Too Fine: dued Too Fine: dude* Too Fine: you there Sunday • 10:21 a.m. Too Fine: txt me when you wanna play Sunday • 11:58 a.m. Too Fine: you up?

Tucker lets his phone fall on his bed. He doesn’t bother checking in with Sam. She’s been out of school and ignoring him for the last three days. It’s almost been a week sinceー

He gets up and stumbles to his chair. He sits down, careful not to mess up Danny’s NASA hoodie. Tucker turns on his desktop, types in his password, checks his emails. He messes around for as long as he can before he literally cannot take it anymore. He just can’t ignore it.

God. His best friend is gone. Is he coming back? Is heー

It’s like something inside his chest cracks. Without thinking, he pulls the NASA hoodie into his lap, and then over his head. It’s been here too long. It still has that smell of ozone and copper on it, though.

Tucker leans back in his chair and stares at the wall.

ー

Danny was home. That’s the thing. The last time Jazz saw him, he was inside the house, and she never saw him leave. He must have, at some point. She has no idea why, or for what, but he must have. It’s the only rational explanation. Danny left. Something happened. He never came home.

She feels the panic rising, gripping her throat again. She puts the candle down on the bleachers. Wipes her face. Whoever is speaking to the crowd of students holding vigil is a mess of white noise in her ears. It doesn’t help. It should and it doesn’t. A lot of things are the opposite of what Jazz knowsーthought they are.

She almost wishes it had just happened at home, been a little less drawn out.

As soon as it pops into her head, she feels sick, disgusted at herself.

But no one goes missing this long and lives. A very small percentage do. And if it had been some accident in the lab, like she always feared would happen, at least they’d have a body to mourn. At least they would know.

ー

Sam’s parents pretend they aren’t happy. They have to look worried, grieving, because what would the neighbours think if they didn’t? She can see through it, unlike them. They always hated the Fentons. They always hated Danny. They always hated Sam’s fascination with the macabre.

Well. They got what they wanted.

It’s like he’s in everything. She isn’t even looking for him, and he’s still there, still everywhereー

Sam rubs her eyes on her sleeve before she can properly cry. There’s no body. He could still come back. A month is a lot, but he could stillーhe could show up. Someone could find him alive. He could be alive.

Her parents look at her from across the lavish, stupidly large, solid wood table. She should know what type of wood it is but it’s like the information is behind a fogbank. She can see the silhouette. She just can’t make it out. Mom places her cutlery down neatly, dabs her mouth with a cloth napkin, and clears her throat.

“Sammy-kins…” She starts, and the rage inside Sam bubbles up like lava bursting through rock. “There’s been… We…”

She looks to the side for help, from dad. He looks incredibly awkward for a moment before turning to Sam with an expression she hasn’t seen since grandpa died.

“Saman… Sam.” He says, simply, slowly, and the lava in Sam’s gut turns cold, and heavy. “They’ve found evidence that has given them reasons to believe that… your friend is gone.” He’s never spoken this softly. Ever. His voice is barely audible above the blood rushing in her ears. “They’ve called off the search.”

ー

Tucker didn’t expect nightmares. He wakes up and he panic-cries into his pillow and hopes to whatever god or deity is listening that ghosts in dreams aren’t real. He can’t explain the fear. Everything is incredibly normal, more normal than his dreams ever have been, and then Danny walks in.

He would give anything for this to happen, right now, in real life. He’s afraid, though. In his dreams, a sheer terror overcomes him. He can’t get away fast enough. He can still hear his own voice echoing in his head. “You’re dead! You’re dead!”

It’s a wrongness he can’t quite graspーor doesn��t want to. He doesn’t want to be afraid of his best friend. Tucker wants him back so badly. But his brain knows the truth, even if Tuck is digging his heels in and refusing to budge.

Someone knocks on his door, and he tenses.

“Tucker, sweetie? It’s…” Mom takes a deep breath. “It’s time to go.”

He grits his teeth and shoves his face into his pillow so hard he can’t get air. He stays like this until he can’t. He gets up.

Tucker walks across the floor like a zombie, barely aware of what he’s even doing. He manages to put on the suit his mom put out for him yesterday, and goes downstairs. He refuses breakfast. The three of themーmom, dad, Tuckerーgo out to the car, and drive to his best friend’s funeral.

ー

Jazz stares at the closed casket. There’s a pair of police officers out of uniform, or maybe detectives, standing in the corner by the photo album laid out on a table looking haunted. Aunt Alicia, uncharacteristically wearing a plain, black dress, sits with mom and dad at the other side of the room. Jazz stares at the casket and she tries to imagine that it’s not empty. That it isn’t making her scream inside with the frustration of it all. Her baby brother is gone. They couldn’t even find him. And probably never will. Because that’s how these things end.

Tucker walks into the room. Dark bags circle his unfocused eyes. His parents are right behind him, his father’s hand on his shoulder. Tucker looks at the casket. He turns away, catching sight of Jazz, and when his parents break off to meet hers, Tucker walks over.

He picks at his sleeves. Says nothing. Jazz tries to pick at the grief counseling she knows she’s studied for fun, but finds herself falling short.

She doesn’t see Sam or Mr. and Mrs. Manson walk in, but suddenly they’re there as well, smiling tightly and giving their condolences to Jazz’s parents. Sam doesn’t walk over. She stands in a corner and stares at a wall with purpose.

Jazz breathes slowly, willing her heart to stop pounding. She counts the stages she can see in front of her.

Too much Acceptance, all from strangers who never even knew him personally. She glances at Dash Baxter, tugging on his tie and looking annoyed. She can feel Anger in her. But also Denial. Bargaining. Depression.

And somehow, Acceptance, too.

They’re not stages. She never really got that before. You feel them all at once, all the time, and they don’t go away. The intensity changes, turning from a background hum to bright bursts of emotion at any little reminder.

She looks at Tucker out of the corner of her eye. She wonders if he’s feeling that way too. Being bombarded by the stages of grief in a way no one prepared them for. Is this why mom and dad never let them get any pets? Besides Danny’s gerbil, which promptly disappeared before she could even get used to the rodent’s smell. What happened to it? Was it rehomed, or is its body still somewhere around the house, unfound, unlooked for?

The stages start over, skipping between Depression, Anger, Denial, the emotions falling over themselves. She wished the cops would leave.

Not soon enough, it’s over. The funeral home employees usher them out, the rooms and halls now empty. The drive home is simultaneously the longest and shortest ever. She stares up at the brick and all she wants to do is sleep. She heads inside intending to do just that.

She takes her shoes off at the door. Mom and dad take off their jacks and move to settle in the living room. Mom is holding a tissue to her eye. Jazz hesitates for just a moment.

Should she do something? She feels like she should do something, anything. She wants to suggest therapy. She’s afraid to open her mouth, though. Jazz can feel the blame on the back of her tongue, ready to spill out. That would be the worst thing for her to do, and she doesn’t know if she has the strength to hold it back, because for fucks sake, if they just watched their children, this wouldn’t have happened.

Jazz turns to the stairs and starts climbing them. She doesn’t get halfway before she’s blinded by drywall dust and knocked off her feet.

#Danny Phantom #Let Grief Do Its Work #i'm surprised the format stayed. i literally just copy pasted the whole thing #me remembering The Gerbil: ohoho yes i can use this for evil purposes #btw this series (extended HOMSH universe) is like. supposed to be funny #but i also was literally so depressed at the time it ended up hella depressing. i don't like. remember anything from that year #HOMSH was a vent fic & then i promptly forgot it existed til i rediscovered it like 4 months later just after the 1st anniversary of. yeah.#i literally have no memory of writing it at all. it was literally like reading someone else's work #i vaguely remember figuring out the panic attack chapter but that's literally it #every time i reread it it's like. an all night affair. i put on Implode Alright by Built by Snow & read it til dawn #& it's funny. but also it's like. yeah. that's uh. that's where my mind was. & it's the only proof i have that i was even alive that year #dont worry i was pulled out of my severe depressive episode a year later when a kitten ran out of the woods & attacked me & stole my hotdog #i still have that half feral kitten. he's a lot bigger now & much more of a baby (only with me apparently though)#he even lets me pick him up without severely injuring me #i should just post HOMSH actually. it's unfinished but like. maybe that'll make me want to #posted this & then immediately got hit with the fanfic author's curse. uh. all my shit might get postponed

7 notes · View notes

raindrvq · 8 months ago

Text

You said, "Baby, no attachment"

Pairing: Bob Sheldon x Randy Adderson

Summary: Randy thinks back to his relationship with Bob and contemplates what that relationship is. Takes place before the book/Bob is alive. A bit angsty.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking/being drunk

Word Count: 626

A/N: First time writing a fic in like... two years. Listened to a lot of Chappell Roan writing this so. I'll post this on ao3 later too. Title comes from Casual by Chappell Roan.

Randy stared closely at the other boy as if he was trying to study him, memorize every curve of his lips and flutter of his eyelashes, commit it all to memory. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at his... friend? No, they were more than friends, surely. Friends don't sneak off with you into empty rooms during parties, friends don't send a thousand shocks throughout your body with every touch they give you, and friends don't kiss you like it's breathing. But then what were they? Boyfriends? God, Bob Sheldon would never call Randy his boyfriend. Besides, Bob was still dating Cherry. He loved her, and made sure to remind Randy of the fact. And a boyfriend is more than a kiss, a boyfriend takes you out on dates, and buys you gifts, and holds your hand. And Bob could never do that for Randy.

The closest they ever got was at the drive-in, when instead of chasing after Cherry and Marcia, who had ditched them once again, they sat together in Bob's Mustang. "Might as well watch the movie, we’re already here." Bob had told him. They watched the movie together, in complete, comfortable silence aside from random comments and jokes mumbled to one another. But something in Randy couldn't just appreciate what he had. He found his hand inching over to Bob's, focused more on Bob's reaction than the movie screen. He had only managed to rest his pinky on top of Bob's, but even that was enough to make his body feel like it was on fire. It was one thing to drunkenly make out at some party, hiding away from prying eyes, but here was so much different. They were surrounded by people, and for some reason, just trying to hold Bob's hand felt so much more intense than any sloppy kiss they had ever shared. Maybe because they were so much more sober now, they were conscious of their actions. Or at least couldn't use alcohol as an excuse. Not that they hadn't been drinking, but it definitely wasn't as much as they had then.

There had been times when Randy had questioned just how drunk Bob had been when he dragged him off during a party, having seen him weaning the same bottle the entire night. But he wouldn't bring it up, hell, Randy himself was usually much more sober than he let on when they were together. He tried to keep his eyes on the movie, not let Bob catch his staring, but he still felt Bob's gaze from the corner of his eye. Bob didn't move, didn't pull away, but Randy didn't dare move closer. This touch alone was a lot. It wasn't until they heard the sound of some of their buddies approaching, obnoxious drunken laughter and loud comments bouncing back and forth. Bob quickly pulled away, the movement was subtle so as not to draw any attention to what had happened in the moments before, but he drew his hand away so fast it was like Randy had burned him. Bob leaned against the door of the car, away from Randy, and Randy felt something stir in the pit of his stomach. But hey, he should've expected this.

So yeah, Bob wasn't his boyfriend, they were nowhere close to that. But calling him his friend felt like he was ignoring everything that had happened between them, every little moment they shared. And maybe he should. Maybe he was just trying to make himself believe in something that wasn't really there. Maybe it all meant nothing, and he should stop trying to turn it into something. Bob and Randy were only friends, that's all they'd ever be, and no amount of drunken makeouts could change that.

#im ngl i finished writing this awhile ago but i was too lazy to proof read n re format it lolz #the outsiders #the outsiders fanfiction #bob sheldon #the outsiders bob #randy adderson #the outsiders randy #brandy #?#the outsiders brandy #bobxrandy #cam writes

13 notes · View notes

throes-of-warm-tornadoes · 2 months ago

Text

finally reached 15 pages!!!!

#now comes the proof reading…#and properly putting in my citations #my toxic trait is that i fucking hate formatting citations #for some fucking reason like how hard is it to follow a basic citation format #also need to proofread which… um. there’s a million typos in the directions for this assignment #so it seems hypocritical that i can’t have a few typos in this paper

2 notes · View notes

thetimecrystal · 4 months ago

Note

so which man caused that

so i am assuming the 30+ posts about the happy trail?

gaspard augé

also bonus photo of pedro which again. drives me so fucking bonkers and wild and man. i am so fucking mentally ill.

#proof underneath the read more because i hate how tumblr formates photo posts #mica speak #asks #anonymous #justice band #gaspard augé

2 notes · View notes

cabaallias · 1 year ago

Text

Cant sleep, so in the meantime, have this Michael Afton drabble/character study that's mainly focused in a self-reflection/flashback to the Bite of '83. I did it a few years ago. It was just sitting in my ipad doing nothing and I'm actually pretty proud of it :]

------

“And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you. Although, there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be.”

Michael frowned as he sat in the cramped security office. The temperature is rising to sweltering heats. Metal started to soften and the beginnings of a crackle of electrical fire picked up from beyond the room. As Henry Emily spoke on, the decrepit man thought back on his life.

His childhood was less than good, and Michael had been less than bad. His father had been a resilient, apathetic man. He didn’t show any emotion to his late wife nor children if it was not for show or ridicule. He was prone to cruel words and physical punishments for his kids while Clara was drained from his manipulation and take, take, take, never give attitude. It consequently lead to their quiet divorce; Clara didn’t put up a fight to keep anything (Michael sometimes loathes that she didn’t, but he understands why).. It consequently led to their quiet divorce; Clara didn’t put up a fight to keep anything (Michael sometimes loathes that she didn’t, but he understands why).

After that, William seemed to turn his sights on his first son. The remarks were subtle, but just jarring enough to reverberate in Michael’s head. The cruelty turned from outright cold disgust to bittersweet; micro aggressions that couldn’t be picked up by anyone outside the Afton household, if it could even be called that. The physical punishments varied in occurrence and eventually was replaced by those poignant words. Sometimes he wished that his father would just beat him like he used to, because then he wouldn’t be forced to doubt his father’s hatred towards him.

It went on for years like that. William always favored his first daughter and youngest son. Elizabeth was a rather sassy and demanding girl. She could command a room like her father and she had the stubbornness to match in volume. That stubbornness eventually got her killed by an animatronic that was modeled to the likeliness of her. It was, ironically, made by the father.

Evan had caught a glimpse of what happened from behind a corner. He had told Michael after a full night of terrors. His dark brown eyes were clouded and glassy from the tears that streamed down his blotched face. His brother had always been a bit of a crybaby, but he was never this bad. He never sobbed so loudly to the point Michael had to cover his mouth to keep William from hearing, because then they both would be in trouble for waking him at 6 am. The boy cried about torn, rotting versions of the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza animatronics. About metal claws that shone, but definitely had rust. About a finger-trap plush of Spring Bonnie from Fredbear’s Family Diner. About how his Fredbear plush would never comfort, only offer somber, semi-compressible advise. Michael had, of course, consoled Evan during the aftermath of his night-terrors, but had left him to his fearful devices.

Meanwhile, the subtle grip his father had on him began to tighten to the near point of suffocation. William whispered about Elizabeth’s death to him in passing. Like it was a regular conversation. About how he should have been watching her. How it was his fault she was gripped by Circus Baby’s claw and dragged into the stomach hatch to compress her bones and organs into a bloody mess. How he would pay for letting it happen, but not yet. It wasn’t time. I have something planned for you, dear son.

Michael could feel himself be put under the scrutiny of his father. It was like a chained collar made of electric barbed wire that would fire off if he swallowed, shallow or not. It made his anxiety and depression worsen and turn into an especially cruel form of bullying that targeted anything that made him feel like curling up into a ball and wasting away like some pitiful creature (That made him want to give in to his father’s ministrations). Sadly, his main subject turned into his younger brother. The way he cried and sobbed about Elizabeth and his nightmares made Michael feel sympathetic, but it was the way he garnered positive attention from their father was what made him want to (give up) pummel Evan. So, he began to play his cruel jokes on the boy. He tore the Foxy plush’s head off. He bought a Foxy mask to jumpscare him with because he remembered that Evan was the most afraid of the Foxy that appeared in his nightmares. Evan eventually stopped coming to him in the early mornings and William had begun to tell him how Michael was growing to be just like him (no, no, no, no, no, no).

Michael’s biggest regret was his final prank.

It was preceded by 5 days of torturing Evan in the cold, mechanical-like walls of their home. He remembers locking him in Parts and Service at Fredbear’s during that week and jumping out at him in various rooms. He vividly remembers surrounding the poor, tired, tortured boy at Fredbear’s Family Diner with his equally cruel friends. Each had on their own mask from Freddy Fazbear’s. They each had taken a limb into a strong grasp and dragged the shaking, sobbing boy towards the stage. Fredbear’s gold fur shone in the lights that had seemed just a bit too bright that day. The rabbit, Spring Bonnie, plucked at the strings of his banjo while his green eyes seemed to be staring into the soul of Michael. It made him think of his father, who had always favored the rabbit over the bear. It made him quiver with fear and he could feel the barbed collar around his neck again. The barbs pressed into his veins and all it did was squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice that they’re at the edge of the stage - and squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice that his friends (acquaintances) agree to lift Evan up to Fredbear (Evan had crawled into his bed that morning, crying silently that a creature resembling a twisted, shadowy Fredbear had nearly bitten his head off with the mouth on its stomach (stomach hatch) and almost torn him in half with its claws while laughing cruelly. It sounded like demented radio static, Mikey, it was terrible) - and squeeze - Michael doesn’t notice Evan pleading for his life while he is shoved head first into (Nightmare’s) Fredbear’s mouth - and squeeze (he promised Evan that he wouldn’t let anything bite or tear him apart that morning (you’re just like me, Mikey)) -

The deafening crunch of Evan’s skull made everyone in the diner fall silent. Michael notices the blood gushing from the animatronic’s mouth and pooling onto the floor. The gold dyed red as Spring Bonnie chuckled and stilled in his movements. Someone had puked, there’s multiple screaming, everyone is snatching their kids up and taking them outside, someone is calling the police.

Those green eyes settled on Michael. He didn’t see an animatronic, but rather, he saw his father. Cruel light hidden behind a facade of goodwill. Overpowering, commanding listen to me, listen to me, only to me or you’ll regret it.

He can feel his brother’s blood on him. It coated his arms, the damned Foxy mask, the front of his shirt. Some of it dripped into the mask and on his face. His eyes are trained on the limp body of Evan, who was slowly beginning to slid out of Fredbear’s mouth. The blood made the passage slick and quick once he reached the edge of Fredbear’s teeth. The innocent, tortured, tired, dead boy fell into Michael’s still outstretched arms. His… head… dear god it’s basically gone. The gray matter’s fluid and blood stained the messy chestnut brown hair and ran down his body like some morbid shower. Bits of cracked skull stuck out of the mush and tangled in the matting hair. Michael’s mask fell off; the flimsy string having snapped. And it was like he could see clearly now. He did this. He allowed this to happen. He killed Evan. He killed him. He killed him. It’s his fault. His throat is closed up and is choking him of air. The eyes of Spring Bonnie, William Afton, his father, gleamed down onto him. His eyes rolled back into his skull and he fainted, still holding the little brother he tortured in his bloody arms.

#fnaf #michael afton #afton family #wish i could format like i want on here without it being an annoying asshole #ignore bad grammar if its there #i did not proof read #ignore inconsistencies too since this was from like 3 yrs ago #probably more than that actually

10 notes · View notes

deus-angst-machina · 1 year ago

Note

hello im choosing violence 😈

1, 16, and 25 pleaseeeee

Ooooh boy off we go. Some of these it was a matter of "which thing do I choose?" Because there are so many.

1. the character everyone gets wrong

I mean. Everyone, one way or another. I have seen a LOT of "character gets reduced to one trait and that's it that's all that's going on here"

Including in canon 😔

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Oh ho ho. I'm going to go ahead and get myself in trouble here. I've got a LIST.

Dom Spencer Reid. I'm sorry. Just. No. Pls stop.

The idea that Aaron Hotchner is anything but The most boring man in the bedroom. I am sorry girlies but that is one very boring and vanilla man. My condolences.

To follow points one and two, I should remark I am not horny for either of those two characters. Which many many many people are. Y'all have fun but I don't get it. Prentiss on the other hand--

The tendency (not unique to CM fandom) to take a ship, make the two characters so OOC they may as well not be themselves except by name, and carry on. C'mon just make an OC. It's free and it's fun. I have done this that's why I recommend it I like a bit of OOC fic myself but you have to eventually go "well that's a whole different fucking person right there". It's a fuzzy line. But it's there.

I am realizing that perhaps the rest of my Bitch List would get me in more trouble than I would like. Perhaps another day.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Oh most of them. I've been around too long, so all fandom bitching sounds the same and I tend to tune it out. If I had to pick one the "why wasn't [ship] canon!? It should have been!" Y'all please. I had to deal with one of my ships dancing briefly before 50% of it left for half a world away. It's never gonna be canon. Also. Look at canon. Look what canon did. You don't WANT your fav ship to be canon.

And actually, upon further thought, another one: I've seen an uptick in "why isn't there more fic content catered to ME?"

Well that's because fic isn't created for you, generally. It is something someone lovingly crafted and chose to share. If it doesn't quite suit your taste, move on. Or create your own! It's fun and delightful. I will admit this is a factor in my not really posting. My shit is NICHE and I know it.

#ramblings #this was typed and formatted on mobile sooooooo #also not proof read #just stream of thought and posted

2 notes · View notes

girl-bateman · 2 years ago

Text

What type of idiot would write a 40+ page report and just put (source) where the sources are beacuse writing out a proper source was boring and they didn't wanna do it. Who would leave their future self in agony trying to find these mysterious sources by hopelessly searching random quotes in google?? Who would be so cruel and dumb??

#answer: me bitch #i thought my google history would remember which studies ive looked at from before #but i did not account for the fact that i also used books and some very legal pdfs that might be hard to find on google with a quote search #anyway i have today and tomorrow to get it all done plus formatting and proof reading #and re-readung a hundred times trying to cut away the unnecessary shit #may the lord strike me down already i hate this #also my body hurts so much from workjng that wedding that i cant even force myself to study at a cafe #so im designated to the sofa where i cant focussss #and yes i did take my meds but im still 😩😤😤 !!!! fukin fumin mate

5 notes · View notes

allpossibilities · 6 hours ago

Text

hellllo, i shall be on shortly. new laptop, new llc, today has been expensive, but good ✨

#✱ 𝗼𝗼𝗰. | post. ›› foaming at the mouth at this point.#i have two replies drafted and just need to format them and proof read #so i’ll likely post those within the hour !

1 note · View note

dykexenomorph · 3 months ago

Note

FOR the fandom ask, Baldirs gate 2 and 3, Fallout 4, Scarlet Hollow, and LIS (any of them)!!

YAY! YAY! HURRAY!!! (answers under tha cut just so this doesn't get too long </3)

FANDOM ASK GAME

bg2/3 (assuming u meant bg1 and not 2?): fave male chara: for 3 its wyll and minsc and for 1 its EASILY khalid (i am looking AWAY from bg2) fave female chara: MINTHARA THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE U!!!!! (also isobel thorm <3). as for bg1 i haven't met everyone yet, but neera and dynaheir are my favorites by FAR least favorite chara: i dont really have one for either? i guess halsin for bg3 on account of him being a bit boring? or maybe raphael on account of him being annoying as HELL!!!!! fave ship: basic answer for bg1, but dynaheir/minsc is EVERYTHING TO ME. for bg3 i LOVE shadowheart/alyin/isobel, they're everything to me fave friendship: maybe an odd answer for 3 but i like the thought of isobel and jaheria being good friends!! for bg1 i like the thought of imogen and khalid being close :3 fave quote: literally any minsc line. name a minsc line and its my favorite. for BOTH games. worst chara death: KHALID AND DYNAHEIR I WILL AVENGE U 😭😭😭 (i dont rlly have an answer for 3? killing ketheric always feels bad tho) fave/happiest moment: for both games its finding minsc LMAO. i love him so much its unreal :( saddest moment: again im still early game for bg1 so i cant answer this, but bg3 is probably the karlach gortash scene i was talking about? maybe also the scene you get with astarion post-killing cazador. fave location: for bg3 i actually LOVE the shadow-cursed lands. act 2 is my favorite act by far. not sure what it'd be for bg1, but i can tell u for a FACT its not baldurs gate. that city is a complete NIGHTMARE to navigate in the first game, i hate it badly.

FO4: fave male chara: hard choice, but probably a tie between nick and x6? prestons pretty high on the list as well. (high-rise too. i dont care if hes only around for 5 mins nobody else knows him like i do!!!) fave female chara: PIPER AND DESDEMONA I LOVE U FOREVER!!!! (cait and glory are also extremely close seconds) least fave chara: danse.................god. god. fave ship: mann this is SUCH an odd answer but i love x6/curie :( fave friendship: CAIT AND PRESTON!!!! they're extremely close and u will NOT convince me otherwise fave quote: "can u say that like frankenstein?? IGGGORRR!! FETCH ME THE BRAINNNN...........sorry :(" worst chara death: glory's death was SOO unneeded and dumb, it enrages me fave/happiest moment: the FULL question is which moment makes me the happiest, which is EASILY when u get to team up w glory for memory interrupted :3 saddest moment: if u couldnt tell the railroad is my favorite part of this game. of COURSE im gonna say glory's death fave location: again. i hyperfixated on the railroad for 5 years. im OBVIOUSLY gonna say the railroad hq. (i also enjoy far harbor!!)

LIFE IS STRANGE (gonna just say the series as a whole cuz im indecisive) fave male chara: SEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! fave female chara: i hate to only answer w the protags for these but i obviously HAVE to say max and alex. ESP alex, i love her sm :( least fave chara: skipping the obvious answers to say warren.....a character being slightly annoying to me is worse than literally anything else they could possibly do LMAO fave ship: im a rachel/chloe/max truther <3 fave friendship: again, IGNORING (most of) the obvious answers, i really liked sean and lyla's friendship, i wish we got to see more of them :( fave quote: ready for tha mosh pit shakabrah.................. worst chara death: MUSHROOM </3 (real answer is gabe. obviously all of the major chara deaths make me sad but smth about gabes just hits hard for me) fave/happiest moment: I LOVE THE DND RP IN TRUE COLORS SO MUCH ITS UNREAL, the entire UI changing to make u feel more immersed is soo good augh saddest moment: mann its SUCH a basic answer but finally finding rachel always makes me cry :( (esteban's death at the start of lis2 is also pretty high on the list to me) fave location: THE TWO WHALES DINER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i also really enjoy the camp u stay at in lis2 with finn and cassidy

(PLEASE forgive me for skipping scarlet hollow, i dont feel like i know it enough to have good answers for most of the prompts. i WILL say tho that kaneeka is my favorite chara of all time and tht nobody else knows her like i do tho!!!!! also FUCK sybil!!!!)

#asks #gotta be honest i didnt feel like proof reading this.#if theres any grammar or formatting options do NOT tell me because i will NOT be fixing it.#decode my typos boy.#(ALSO THANK U FOR THA ASK THEEBO I LOVE U)

1 note · View note

anisespice · 6 months ago

Text

“ baby steps ” || tokyo rev.

continuation of this post.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, ran, sanzu ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. mature language, crude humor, ANGST w/ comfort (mostly in mikey's), deadbeat!bonten (unintentionally), not proof-read so there may be A LOT of errors :// mikey's is LONG, ran + sanzu's are silly goofy, mikey + sanzu's are a lil unhinged lol and i think that’s it :))

notes: can i just say thank y'all so much for showing "accidents happen" the love that i didn't think it would get, it was made on a whim so i'm so so so happy y'all enjoyed! i tagged as many as i could (or that tumblr would allow) sorry if i missed some of you :( thank you for your patience and let me know how you feel about this continuation format :) !! notes ii: also also, pt. 2 for "accidents happen" coming soon! notes iii: MY COMPUTER CRASHED AND I THOUGHT I LOST EVERYTHING BUT IT'S OKAY IT'S OKAY :'))))

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow , @captaincyberqueen , @cherryblossiren , @niragiswhore , @awkwardaardvarkforever , @valentsoup , @lovely212 , @miffysoo , @yandere-kouhai , @i-am-just-a-girl-ur-honor , @wisteriarose214 , @kindadolly , @yuwaimo , @sweetbella1221 , @simpingfor-wakasa , @sirachano0dles , @yutahg , @slowlikehonee , @blurpleuni-squid , @haruchiyoreen , @istanstraykidss , @loyard176 , @msluccapotato , @luv444lay , @backgroundcharactera , @jegelskeranime

Ever since you picked up your daughter, there’s been a hovering presence that wouldn’t go away no matter where you went. From the park, to the grocery store, all the way home it clung to you like a bad itch. Despite looking over your shoulder and being met without any sort of threat, that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling. And it only intensified when you received a knock on your front door.

You made a confused hum, checking the time on the microwave to confirm that it was indeed past the reasonable hour for potential visitors. Not to mention, you weren’t expecting anyone.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, instincts telling you that something wasn’t right, that your best option was to pretend you weren’t home. However, the person on the other side knew otherwise as they knocked on the door again, this time with more fervor. You inhaled sharply, taking hesitant steps towards the door until you were mere feet away from it. Eventually, you worked up the courage to look through the peephole, your brows furrowing in distress when all you could see was black—They were covering it. All the more reason not to open the door…

What if it’s a robber? Ridiculous, they don’t knock.

What if it’s just the neighbor? Why cover the peephole?

More and more did your mind swirl with endless possibilities, each one becoming less and less believable. Taking a long, deep breath, you doubled-checked the door-chain was on before slowly cracking it open. And as you attempted to peek through the sliver, nothing could’ve prepared you for the arm that forced its way through, startling you as you yelped, stumbling back as it made a grab at you.

Before you had the thought of shoving the door closed on the offender’s arm they grabbed the little chain, then yanked it clean out of the wall. To your terror, a dark hooded figure entered your home, head hung low, concealing their identity.

You began to hyperventilate, backing up to keep distance as they staggered further into your home before kicking the door closed behind them, effectively blocking you from the exit. Surely, someone heard your scream and would check in, or call the police. But, how long did you have before the intruder decided to make a move? Not to mention, your sleeping child just down the hall…

With that last thought in mind, you immediately steeled your nerves.

Even if you had to use your bare hands, you were going to do whatever it took to keep your baby out of harms way.

You reached for the closest weapon without taking your eyes off the figure, hands clasping onto a discarded umbrella that was leaned up against a closet door. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. Taking a defensive stance, you prepared for what you assumed to be the inevitable.

“I-I don’t know who you are, or what you want…b-but if you don’t leave…my..my boyfriend will be home any minute! H-He knows how to fight, and he’ll fuck you up if you try anything!”

Your means of intimation fall on deaf ears. It were as if you hadn’t spoken at all. They just…stood there. Watching you from the darkness. That feeling, that hovering presence you’d been weary about all evening…there was no doubt in your mind it was because of this individual. Suddenly, they gave a watery chuckle, hand coming up to rub the lower half of their face as the chilling noise dissipated into soft snickers.

You sweatdropped. “I mean it! He’ll be here real soon, so you better get out of here before-”

“[_____]…” the figure finally rasped, voice heavy with an emotion you couldn’t decipher in the moment. You froze, eyes widening.

“…How the hell do you know my name?”

Without much urgency, they stepped forward into the light. Beneath the warm glow, it took you mere seconds to recognize the person standing before you. You gasped, trembling hands dropping the umbrella, it landing with a harsh clatter. Soft, mortified hitches in your breath echoed through the small space, memories flashing before your eyes as you covered your gaping mouth.

“M.. Ma..” you whimpered, throat tightening. A shell of a man, who gazed upon you with stormy eyes flooded with tears at the mere sight of you.

He gave another strained laugh, muttering to himself as he soaked you all in. “Needed to know.. Needed to know it was really you…”

Mikey eyed you up, intensely, eerily silent as he did so. Then, he took in the surroundings, the warmth, the interior, the smell of dinner—It truly felt like a home. A bitter pill to swallow once he reminded himself that you built it without him.

His sharp gaze returned to your stunned expression. He sneered.

“Must’ve been easy for you. To forget me and move on, just like that. Like I was nothing.”

You blinked, taken aback. All you could do was remain speechless, cemented to the ground with thoughts and questions racing in your head. Now matter how many times you opened your mouth, no sound would come out aside from choked whimpers.

“Do you know…how long I’d been searching for you? Been mourning for you?” He hissed through clenched teeth. “When you left, I thought… I thought someone had taken you. That I lost you all because I was too stubborn to say I’m sorry…”

As he spoke, Mikey slowly closed the space between you. The more he came into the light, the more you could see how the years had treated him. His cheekbones were more pronounced, the dark circles under his eyes as well. His lips were dry, cracked, his fair skin now ghoulishly pale. If not for the black hoodie you would’ve mistaken him as such; ghost of your past.

Your shoulders shook, hands hovering over your face as you gaped in disbelief. He’d been looking for you?

That night, that stupid fight you could barely remember…he made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you. He pushed you away. Pushed so hard that you almost believed he really wouldn’t have cared if you dropped dead. You knew he didn’t mean it, knew it was just another dark impulse…but none of that mattered when all your pregnancy tests came back positive just hours prior.

That night, you made the decision for the sake of your daughter. And also, for his sake. At the time, you were certain he wasn’t ready to be a father. He was quick to rage, merciless, losing himself to the darkness you tried to protect him from. If you had stayed, you were certain Mikey would’ve never forgiven himself if he lost control in front of his own flesh and blood, if the child grew to resent him for something he struggled to control.

You thought you were doing him a favor…but it appears to have done the opposite.

“And this whole time…you’ve been here, alive. Playing fucking house with someone else.”

You stiffened. Someone else? Your visible confusion only irritated him further.

He scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You said it yourself. Too bad he won’t be coming home anytime soon. I’ve already got Sanzu and the Haitanis looking around for the bastard. And when they find him, I’ll make him regret sticking his filthy dick inside you.”

Confusion morphed into realization. You did threaten him with said hypothetical boyfriend…But, that was before you knew it was him!

“Oh, Manjiro…” you whispered. He glared, scorned.

“Don’t you dare pity me. I mean, you got the family you always wanted, right? So who cares who it was with, right? Congratu-fucking-lations.”

You shook your head, exhaling deeply as you held your face in your hands. For years, he thought you dead. Then, when he received word of your appearance, he finds you with child. And not once did he consider that child to be his? It’s like…he couldn’t fathom the thought.

If only he had looked just a little bit closer, he would’ve seen that she had his eyes. How they resembled those pools of ink that used to shine with so much hope back in his youth, so playful and full of love…those same eyes that now gazed upon you with contempt.

It stung.

He thought so low, not only of himself, but of you as well.

Taking a deep breath to reel in your emotions, tears began to well up in your eyes. He assumed they were tears for your doomed lover, further breaking his heart as Mikey clenched his fists to the point of nearly drawing blood. Luckily, even though you struggled to find the right words, someone else happily found them for you.

��Papa..?”

Both of you instantly drew your attention on the toddler standing near the kitchen, one fist clutching her blanket while the other rubbed the sleep from her eye. You glanced at Mikey, and he was stiller than stone. His once dead-stare had morphed into what could only be described as incredulous. Surely, he heard her incorrectly…

With a sniffle, you crouched down to address her, offering a soft grin as you nodded earnestly. “That’s right, sweetheart. Papa’s finally come home.”

The little girl blinked sleepily, taking a second to reboot. But, as soon as the words registered, a bright smile stretched across her face as she excitedly rushed towards Mikey, throwing herself onto his legs and hugging them like a koala as she chirped, “Papa, home!”

Said man hobbled a bit at the force, arms windmilling as he caught himself to keep from falling backwards. He didn’t know what to do with himself, especially when those big, round pools of ink opened and stared right up into his soul. Mikey’s heart nearly stopped. With a hitch in his breath, the gangster did everything he could to hold his composure, looking between you and the child as you both gazed at him with so much warmth…it was suffocating.

Sensing he was overwhelmed, you reached down to scoop up the bubbly bundle, holding her close as you eyed Mikey, apprehensively.

He resembled a cornered animal—Muscles stiff, jaw tight, eyes wild. After a moment, Mikey began to slowly back away into the shadows of your home, conflicted, devastated. It wasn’t until his back hit the door did he eventually fall to his ass, of which caused your child to giggle at how silly he was being. However, all you could do was hold back tears, watching as the reality started to weigh down on a man who just discovered he was a father.

Nervous, you gently explained. “I didn’t leave you because of our spat, Jiro…and I never moved on. I just…thought that I’d be doing more harm than good sticking around when I found out I was pregnant…I didn’t want to add any more stress on your plate, so I…”

Mikey didn’t respond. He sat there, stare vast and unfocused. But, you knew he hung on to every word. So you continued. “I wanted to tell you. But…I wasn’t sure how. At the time, I believed you had stopped caring about me altogether. And to hear you’d been looking for me, I-I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you harbored all that guilt. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”

Your daughter wiggled around in your hold, making small grunts in complaint. Her eyes were trained on his figure huddled in the dark, wanting to be acknowledged, wanting his attention. “Papa!”

Mikey flinched. He focused his gaze on the two you, haloed by the light emitting from the living room. You both were like salvation, reaching down to a broken sinner…How could she want anything to do with him? When he had missed so much already…

To keep from accidentally dropping her, you placed your daughter back on the ground, watching wearily as she wobbled all the way to Mikey, blanket in tow. You weren’t worried about him hurting her, far from it…if anything, he appeared to be the fragile one.

Eventually, she made it to her destination, standing before him with a curious, but eager expression as she rested a hand on his knee. Mikey watched her, took in all of her features, every last detail as he engraved it to memory. She was beautiful, just like her mother. One would think his genes didn’t stand a chance. But the eyes. That was all him. From his mother to his older brother to himself, there was no doubt in his mind that those were Sano eyes.

His lower lip quivered, reaching out hesitantly to caress her cheek. She didn’t cower away, merely babbled as she began patting his knee, allowing his thumb to rub over her chubby cheek. You clasped your hands over your mouth, growing even more emotional at the delicate moment. Mikey looked enamored already, eyes subtly sparkling from what you could see as they interacted.

“I-I told her stories, about you. And I made sure to show her photos, too. Old ones, but still you nonetheless. I wanted her to know who her father truly was. Despite everything else…”

Your daughter cooed, then placed her blanket in Mikey’s lap before climbing into it. Mikey didn’t dare move, rigid as she made herself comfortable. He looked up at you, looking for guidance, for reassurance. Your encouraging smile was enough for him to hesitantly place his hands on her small back for support, carefully adjusting so that she was stable. She laid her head on his chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, sighing contentedly.

And, for the first time in years, he smiled.

When you hadn’t seen her familiar pigtails bobbing around, or heard any of her excited chatter with the receptionist up front, worry couldn’t even begin to describe what you felt the moment you realize…your daughter wasn’t here.

As soon as the meeting looked like it was wrapping up, you politely excused yourself from the room. Masking your worry wasn't too difficult, but there's no doubt a couple people might've noticed the spring in your step as you exited. One of them being Rindou Haitani. He watched you speed down the hall with mild interest, corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly as he thumbed around on his phone beneath the table. Having been updating his older brother during the meeting while he was on his smoke break, he was more than eager to inform him of the storm that was no doubt heading his way.

Little did the younger Haitani know, he was already dealing with one.

"And then, Haruka-kun tries to take Momo-kun's bento box because she had cuter animal shapes, but Momo-kun already said no, and so Haruka-kun pushes Momo-kun, and then tries to take it! But I pushed him and hit him with my fist, like this," she clenched up her tiny fist and held it up to Ran before striking down on his forearm with all her might. It didn't even pitch. "Like that."

The lavender-eyed man merely gazed upon her with mirth. "Did you now?"

"Mmhm! And teacher got so mad, and said that she would tell Ma about me fighting, but she's stupid because Ma didn't pick me up today, and I told Haruka-kun if he snitches, I'll beat 'em up!"

Ran lowly whistled. "Quite the little menace, ain'tcha?"

She pumped her fists. "Yeah!" Then, she paused, holding a finger to her chin in thought. "Wait...what's a menace?"

"Ah, something you inherited from your old man." He ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure. Though her innocent jab earlier regarding his age still hit a sore spot, he was starting to like the sound of it. She, on the other hand, wasn't convinced.

"I already told you; Ma was on her happy juice when she said that. She said not to believe anything she says when she's on happy juice. It makes her do silly things."

Ran chuckled. He knew that all too well. The little girl wouldn't be in this world if not for your inability to hold your liquor. But judging based on how you've raised her so far, clearly you made the right decision keeping him in the dark.

He'll admit, he wasn't the best in terms of commitment. Throughout his day to day, Ran just didn't have the energy. With being in Bonten, keeping an eye out for his younger brother, handling business, dealing with numbskulls and disposing of their bodies, there was never a time to even consider settling down. One-night stands and on and off flings were the easiest choice. At least, until he stumbled upon you.

You were the whole package and more. Classy, independent, witty, and a looker to top it all off. When Bonten started collaborating with the organization you worked in, he couldn't help but to be drawn to you—Like a moth to a flame. It started out as the occasional bantering, trying to one-up the other, catch them off guard. Ran was smooth with his words but could never quite beat your sharp tongue. Thus, things escalated to something more flirtatious. Harmless, but it didn't take long before the months of tension between the both of you began boiling over...and throwing alcohol into the mix, it was the first time Ran finally felt like he had the upper hand. Seeing how poorly you handled just a few glasses of wine, it endeared him. Seeing a piece of you that no one else had the privilege to witness. Your sloppy side, the clumsy, whiny, touchy side. After that long, passionate night beneath the sheets, the one time you and Ran allowed yourselves the space to be vulnerable with one another...you found yourself pregnant. And Ran found himself being nonethewiser.

He wonders, if he hadn't left the next morning and completely ghosted you...would you have kept him in the picture?

Suddenly, his phone dings. Reaching back to pull it from his back pocket, Ran half expected it to just be another update on the meeting or Rindou cursing at him to hurry his ass back inside. But, it wasn't that at all. And at the sound of your kitten heels rushing out of the building and halting at the top of the steps, Ran didn't even need to look up to know who was glowering down from them.

"Hey, Ma! Guess what, the purple man isn't such a meanie after all!"

Ran snorted, finally looking up from his phone to greet the woman who not only still had his heart, but evidently his first child. You, on the other hand, weren't so thrilled to see him.

"Rika. Wait inside. Ma's got some words for the purple man."

He smirked. "Wanna say 'em over a glass of wine?"

"You son of a-!"

"Bad word!" Your daughter covered her ears. You flushed, your composure nearly slipping just by being in his prescence. Ran, immediately seeing the opportunity, teasingly pouts at you whilst covering her tiny hands with his larger ones, shielding her.

"Honey, please, not in front of the child. Can't have her repeating those dirty words at school, can we?"

You fumed, speaking through clenched teeth. "Haitani, as soon as I get her in this building, away from you, I swear to God, I'm gonna wring your neck."

He hummed, amused. "Well. Guess she didn't get her violent side from me after all. Speaking of which, did you know at school today-"

"Hey! No snitching!"

“...What did you say?”

You were hoping you heard the teacher wrong. Surely it was just your exhaustion taking the wheel. But, when her kind smile didn’t falter, nor did her gushes for the supposed “adorable display”, you immediately grew suspicious.

While heading home from work, you went to pick up your children from daycare. And when you arrived, the teacher merely informed you that it was already taken care of by your very handsome and very devoted husband.

“I-I think you’re mistaken. My boyfriend and I aren’t married…”

The teacher, finally coming back down to earth, tilted her head in confusion. “Eh? You aren’t?”

“Did he…say we were?”

“Well, no. I just assumed since it was easy to tell who he was here for. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.”

You choked on your spit. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy. Hikaru and Kaoru look so much like their daddy.

You did everything in your power to keep from strangling the poor woman. Sure, she didn’t do anything wrong per say…but she sure did make a grave error. And your struggle to restrain your intrusive thoughts must’ve shown on your face from the way she placed a concerned hand on your arm. “Are you alright, miss? You look like you’re about to faint.”

“M-Mhm, yep, great, just peachy.” You squeaked through clenched teeth, sweatdrop on your forehead. “Could you um…confirm something for me?”

“Uh.? Er, sure. I’ll try my best.”

With tense shoulders and a tight smile, you asked, “Their…father…did his mouth have two scars in the corners?”

The teacher blinked, confused. Shouldn’t you already know that answer yourself?, she was probably thinking. And she would be right; you did know. But her simple, hesitant nod was the final nail in the coffin that was your delusion—Haruchiyo Sanzu had found you. And to make matters worse, he had the children.

Your smile faltered, twitching ever so slightly. Covering it with a forced chuckle, you cried, “Oh, that’s..wonderful! He’s always been self conscious about them, and I’m j-just.. beaming with joy that he’s embracing them more. Have a nice evening, Ms. Yuki.”

The teacher didn’t get a chance to respond as you quickly turned on your heel and began speed walking home. You’d apologize for your abrupt exit another day…right now there were more important matters to worry about. For instance—How on earth did Sanzu find you? How did he know about the twins and where they were? Oh, God…did he know about Satoru?

Dialing him up a few times only for the calls to go straight to voicemail weren’t reassuring in the slightest, having you rush across oncoming traffic just so you could avoid any further delays for your fraying nerves. You could see your apartment complex up ahead, heart thumping in your throat at the familiar, black SUV parked a couple blocks down. Had it not been for the heavily tinted windows and no license plates, you probably would’ve overlooked it. He knew where you lived. Stomach in knots, muscles stiff, nerves shot. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or devastated. Your kids were safe at home, but at what cost? You stood in front of the building, rooted to the ground. Despite mentally preparing for this exact scenario for years, it all went down the drain the second you went to that daycare and discovered your children were missing.

It wasn’t until your phone vibrated did you snap out of your thoughts, shakily pulling the device out of your back pocket to check the notification.

from : unknown 1:06 pm “ hi, mama.~ ”

Your stomach twisted. Attached to the message were two photos.

The first photo was of your kids eating McDonald's in the kitchen, happily cheesing and waving at the camera. You couldn't hold your choked gasp, hand coming up to hold your quivering lower lip—They were safe.

The second photo...was of Satoru. Tied to a chair, gagged, and beaten senseless. And standing behind him, holding him by his hair so that he could pose for the camera, grinning like a cheshire cat...

Another message pops up. Your grip tightened around your phone.

from : unknown 1:09 pm " daddy's home.~ "

#🍁wasabi #*weakly holds up to the light*#it...is...FINISHED #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #mikey sano #manjiro x reader #manjiro sano #ran x reader #ran haitani #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo

3K notes · View notes

white--moon · 1 year ago

Text

There is a horribly possessive streak with an equally ugly side of jealousy in him and mention of another guy -probably the guy that gave Ichigo the roofied drink in the first place- has him simmering and ready for blood so quick it's kind of embarrassing. He's always been quick to get heated, but never so intensely as he does over anything involving Ichigo. "Hah. You ended up goin' home with me anyway and we didn't even bang. Wasted opportunity, if you ask me. Is that why you snuck out while I was in the shower?" Because he knows Ichigo was still on his couch when he first woke up, but was gone after his shower.

He is really not happy about how that night went. "You didn't call me, you called Shuren." At least to start, but he's not too upset by that by now. "He did tell me, through text like a coward. He told me he picked you up on some back street, bleeding out from a gut stab. He dropped you off at a small clinic you told him to take you to- he didn't know it was your dad's place I don't think. And that you were in real bad shape. He left it to interpretation but he didn't seem confident you'd make it. And he bounced after dropping you off and making sure someone knew you were there. He wouldn't answer my call, only text, probably worried I'd find a way to reach through and strangle him. I went to your dad's clinic, you weren't there. I checked the two nearest major hospitals, you weren't there. I even checked one of the morgues. I had everyone I know who can keep their goddamn mouth shut keepin' an eye and ear out for you." That's why his phone was on 24/7 and why he got so little sleep. "You were outside my reach." He snorts, "You? What kinda prescription pain meds you got your system right now? No way am I givin' you my keys. You might be alright right now, but that doesn't mean you wont be passed out in that seat twenty minutes from now." If he had to guess, he'd say they were probably starting to wean him down to a lower dose, and he was probably due for his next one with the next round of that nurse who they were avoiding. Plus all the extra strain of the stairs and moving around. So, "We should probably stop somewhere and get you somethin'."

Ichigo has a little smirk on his stupidly attractive face that Shiro kind of hates and loves at the same time. He cracks up and gives Ichigo a skeptical look, "You wish I'd swoon. But I'd be offended if you did keep your hands to yourself."

In a rare moment of almost vulnerability and lowered guard, he admits, "You keep me company, that's already doin' a lot for me." Ichigo does keep all his secrets and it turns out he has quite a few.

He starts the car now that Ichigo's in the seat and more or less settled and starts towards the exit. He shakes his head a little, but mostly out of exasperated amusement. "I know it's a good idea, I been sayin' it for how long now? Pretty much the entire time you've known me. It's about time you take me up on it."

“Yep.” He flashes a grin, “It’s versatile advice.” The news that Ichigo wasn’t standing in that bathroom doorway that night wishing the knife had been better aimed actually really surprises him. He did a good job of faking it. Either that, or Shiro was in too pissy of a mood to notice subtle. “Damn. Shirtless and bloody is one'a my best looks, too. Clearly you weren’t drunk and high enough to exercise that kinda restraint. You could'a just pretended it was the drugs later.”

He shrugs. “Got a couple hours before you called and woke me up. I told you I’ve been busy. Been leavin’ my phone on ring too, in case you or someone that had information about you called.” And it turns out his phone goes off all the damn time, it’s just usually on silent and he deals with it when he decides to check it. But Ichigo didn’t ask about that, and he realizes he’s oversharing with no real reason to.

He looks over but his stomach is doing a little, subtle dance so he rolls his eyes and nudges Ichigo, gently, with an elbow. “Stop. That’s weird and cute. It sounds like you’re goin’ soft on me.”

A pale brow arches as he drops himself down into the driver side. It’s only when his ass is in the seat that he realizes he probably should have offered Ichigo some help or support getting into the car. It’s sports car. It’s low to the ground. Bending is required. But since he’s already sitting, it would probably be more embarrassing for them both he got up to run around the car and help now, so he pretends he’s not watching instead. “Uh. I dunno. Since forever, I guess. Unless that was a broad you, not me specifically.” His answer probably wouldn’t change much though, honestly. He scoffs lightly, a little amused, a little tired. “Both. But I meant take care of me.” But he looks over, “You could work for me- I mean, y’ know, assuming this continues to go well and I stay in business. Or you could run for me when you need extra cash, and finish school and get paid to read fancy books when you’re done.”

#blacksun #tsp activity check #haha don't worry about it XD #this is a casual format we're just here to have fun #i miss typos in mine ALL THE TIMe regardless of proof reading lol

2K notes · View notes

pholla-jm · 9 months ago

Text

My Wife is Real

IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi.

Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there.

It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started.

Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media.

“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.”

Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.”

Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.”

Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t.

Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.”

Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!”

Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.”

Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.”

Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.”

“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji.

Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one.

“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head.

“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.”

Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door.

Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door.

“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.”

Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!”

He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold.

You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.”

Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.”

“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom.

You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock.

“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students.

“Hello.”

“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him.

“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…”

“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them.

“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you.

You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.”

“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?”

“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.”

You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks.

Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side.

“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.”

You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later.

Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #oneshot #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

3K notes · View notes