#silly lanky dude

[m4ggotm0ld]

silly dude doing silly things:3

Storm joined him

[carterrdraws]

some silly little trigun doodles 🫶

[tev-the-random]

... Trying to make a Codfather design. Been looking at some Jimmy fanart for inspiration. I am now at a serious predicament

[fishedeyelenz]

Art of some guy

[pezpenser205]

pictured: one of the manlikers in question

i do not understand manlikers at all bc the more conventionally attractive a man is the less attractive i find him

[variousqueerthings]

I think it's so funny (affectionately) that every person to play the doctor so far has been some guy (including jodie whittaker) by which I mean, yes sure DT won some polls calling him very attractive, but essentially he's just a lanky dude who's good at being sad, and most everyone else has equally been some character actor type who because of playing the doctor was getting their picture taken a fair bit suddenly, and JW is a lesbian dream, and every one of them has their fans who find them very attractive, and that's right and good, but... some guy in the end, doing their best for the photographer or deliberately leaning into the silly vibes, because that's what they're known for. meanwhile ncuti gatwa is Modelesque, is a Style Icon, is being shot artistically nude for queer pride issues, the doctor is now in The Club according to that first trailer, everyone's first reaction upon meeting this doctor so far has been 👀👀👀 can you imagine jack harkness??????

[bluberryfields]

"David is very easy to fall in love with." - Michael Sheen

Hi. How are you? Good, I hope. Okay, so can we talk about just how fucking beautiful David Tennant is? And by “we” I mean “I” and by “talk” I mean “babble incoherently into the void”? Great! I’ll attempt to impose a bit of organization on this just to satisfy my pathological need to inflict structure on words (thanks college/job/brain), but I can’t promise much. Also, there will be A LOT of pictures and gifs. (you’re welcome?)

And this isn’t just because I am deep in the bottomless well of Good Omens fandom and that Crowley is basically the most breathtaking creature that has ever existed. Well, not just because of that.

*cue Aziraphale's "good lord" from 1793*

ANYWAY, like a lot of people, I became a fan of (i.e., fell deeply and irrevocably in love with) DT during his run as the 10th Doctor. He was young and bright and full of just about everything – joy, sorrow, wit – making him incredibly watchable. His look was also so charming: big bouncy rooster comb of hair, absurdly cheeky smile, expressive-as-fuck eyes and eyebrows, and a tall, lanky form that seemed to be made of rubber and the kind of granulated sugar that could only be found in candy from the 90s that are now banned in all first- and second-world countries.

So yeah, I was super into him and his Doctor’s adventures. And I continued to watch him in other projects and still swoon (looking at you, slutty Hamlet)

even at characters where that was not the desired reaction (fuck you, Kilgrave, you delicious monster).

I would also always become a bit (a lot) weak in the knees at his voice regardless of which accent he took on, though always preferring him doing any Scottish brogue because of fucking course.

Roll that tongue, you sexy beast.

But what I want to get into today is just how incredible he looks in the year of 2023.

He’s 52 years old and I am somehow even more attracted to him. Maybe it’s because I am myself older, and my tastes have matured alongside? I certainly do enjoy gray hair way more than I did 10 years ago.

He’s aged incredibly well, probably a combination of good genes and good health, and he’s clearly not clinging to the Hollywood idea of “youth”.

(insert obligatory grumble about the double standards of men being praised for aging and women being demonized…the potentially problematic nature of the term “aging well” in general…acknowledge this with my enlightened brain but ignore this with my slutty heart…fuck the patriarchy, etc. etc.)

He’s still tall and skinny, even gangly at times, all long arms and legs that can move in impossible directions with unfathomable grace.

His face is leaner, that incredible bone structure creating sharper edges that draw the eye. Speaking of the face, he’s got these creases on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes and mouth that are evidence of time spent well: smiling, laughing, living. Makes you want to trace your fingertips along each one.

Oh god that smile? Good lord. It’s weapons grade charm that can also be quite intimidating. Sweet, humble, silly, scary…full spectrum of options here! His shark smile is the definition of “irresistible” in my Dictionary of Delicious Dudes.

I am both proud of and grossed out by my own word choice.

Continuing with that face...the hawkish nose, the dimples you want to drown in, the big eyes, those motherfucking eyebrows...

I could seriously write a whole essay about those eyebrows, but I already give my therapist enough to worry about.

Oh those eyes. “Piercing” is a term usually reserved for blue eyes, but I would argue it applies to DT’s bottomless chocolate pools in that they slice through my heart every damn time.

Honorable mention does go to those Crowley snake eyes because they could have been distracting and diminishing to his overall look, but they absolutely are not.

Such a pretty shade of yellow.

Random tangent to swoon about his hands. For whatever reason, I like checking out a man’s hands, and DT’s got a set that drives me wild. I can’t even really explain why, but I just really like the way he articulates with them. Crowley is a perfect example, what with the miracle snaps, caressing globes, and holding whisky glasses. Yum.

Delicious demon digits

Fresh tangent: How does this fucker look good clean shaven, with stubble, and a goddamn beard? How is that allowed?

He's got a face that makes me wanna take up sculpting

Further, how is his fucking neck so hot? Like, seriously, show me the math. I can’t stop staring at it. And when it’s cloaked in a turtleneck? Please, sir, may I have some more?

Fuuuuuuuck

With no segue whatsoever, I am absolutely obsessed with his hair, across all contexts. Big, bold, blood-red Crowley coifs (especially in Season 2)? Check.

Proper gentleman side part? Check.

Side shave with cartoonishy springy 14th Doctor shock? Check.

Lockdown locks with and without headband? Check!

It’s a goddamn buffet of delicious options.

Oh damn speaking of that 14th Doctor look? Good fucking Christ on a buttery Ritz cracker. The whole DT collection is on display: the hair, the eyes, the bone structure, the smile, the clothes, and even the glasses!

To quote Pam on Archer, “I swear to god, you could drown a toddler in my panties right now! I mean, not that you would.”

Now that you (I) mention the clothes, I never cease to marvel at how he can wear pretty much anything and look amazing. Stripes, patterns, wild colors, etc. He just always looks…not exactly comfortable, but sort of at ease like the clothes were created with him in mind. And this goes across the spectrum of Casual to Costume to Promotional (e.g., interviews and premieres).

They are almost illegally cute together

We all know by now how ridiculously tight those Crowley pants are and how it influenced his signature serpentine swagger (thank you, Costume department, you’re the real heroes). That said, he and those slinky hips still looks so incredibly natural in them like they came from his actual closet.

Stupid sexy snek

And he pulls off the look of more ridiculous stuff like full Shakespearean costumes or that sad gray-hoodie-black-shorts-and-Wellington-boots combo from the first season of Staged. He somehow gives off the air of “whatever, they’re just clothes, man” while also looking like a damn model.

Georgia is a very lucky woman

Final thoughts: I know DT dislikes talking about how people think he’s so attractive because I’m sure it feels a bit icky if you just want to live your life and do your job. But my guy also clearly understands that he’s not some ghoul who has succeeded on incredible personality and acting chops alone. So, that said, maybe he'll forgive me for posting such a long, rambling, ode to him?

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: just wanted to do something in honor of sorry boys going on hiatus. this is entirely based on their last video so watch that to understand the silly headcanon time. cc!wilbur likers will be blocked by the way, thanks. get out of here

↳ warnings: none. just the four members here. four original, and only, members of sorry boys. no one else

↳ song: campus—vampire weekend

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• You'd think that an afternoon shift at a trampoline park would be easy; especially on the down days. Hanging around the snack bar with your employees, blowing whistles at loud kids, and keeping whatever was left in the lost and found bin became something of a daydream to you upon first getting hired

• It was a better alternative to the fast food joint you had worked previously at a crazed food van—you'd rather do anything but that after quitting

• Your first tip that things weren't going to be that easy should have been the camera crew that shuffled in on your second week, lead in part by a blonde guy with a stack of pre-signed waivers in his hand

• "What's up with that?" You turned to your only other coworker at the hour, a lanky guy with a mask and fluffed up hair. You thought you remember his name starting with an R or something along the lines of that, but mostly you referred to him as 'dude' or 'hey you.' He never felt the need to correct you, so you just never stopped

• "Oh yeah." He'd responded with a tired voice while barely even looking around. "Uh, we have a group that comes in every few days and rents out the place. I've seen them bouncing around, and I'm not really sure they're, uh, stable I guess you could say."

• Glancing down from the reception desk and to the play floor below, you caught a glimpse of the three others he spoke of, one being the blonde kid from earlier, surrounded by a few cameras and doing some rather weak jump moves. One in a red fat suit fell over at one point and refused to get up as he rolled around on the floor whining

• "Er," You took a step out of the reception desk area as you pointed a finger down at the scene. "Shouldn't one of us be down there? Supervising, and all that." You neglected to mention that one of the men looked old enough to be your father and should probably be mediating them

• For a moment you thought your coworker would shrug and tell you to go on, but he just sighed and grabbed his whistle like a weary office worker preparing for a morning round

• "At least this time I won't be alone." He looked at you. The eyebags under his eyes made you feel like he'd done this a lot more than he'd ever wanted to, despite only being at work a few weeks more than you

• The next few minutes went by fine. You were mostly ignored by the two fellows in fat suits as they proceeded to say 'dude' and 'bro' far too much, and was only offered a high five by the same blonde— Tungo you now knew. At one point the cameramen pulled you and the other worked over for a small interview, the likes of which you seemed to enjoy more than him

• The first time either of you really had to step in was when the red fat suit one delved into his shell, yelling something about yoinking his pork

• "Chungus? Chungo?" You managed to say his name without somehow laughing. "Please don't do that. We're gonna have some problems if you continue to."

• As Chounce popped his head out like a cartoon character to look at you, you offered a wobbly smile, and was severely relieved when he finally brought his hands out of his suit to cross them

• "For the record dude I wasn't even pulling my plug." He frowned, having the decency to look midly embarrassed. "I was just thinking about my feelings, bro."

• You got a thankful look from your fellow employee at your successful endeavors

• The both of you continued to watch as a competition between Chounce and Tungo occurred, eventually somehow turning into a fight between them as the self proclaimed Master Za watched

• In reality, you were pretty sure their real names all aligned somewhere along the lines of Tommy Charlie and Phil, if the signatures on their wavers spoke for anything, but none of them seemed to call each other anything but nonsense

• At one point, you were compelled enough by the entertainment to purchase a bag of popcorn from the snack desk, earning a look at disappointment from your coworker as he saw

• "Please don't encourage them." He dragged a hand down his face, careful not to knock his mask off

• "I don't think it'd matter if I did or didn't." You smiled through a mouthful. "Just look at 'em." You waved at the kid zone they'd all migrated too in the last hour or two, currently kissing Master Za on the face as he yelped in protest

• "Wait." Your hand lowered slowly as you blinked. "That's not allowed—"

• The two of you took off in their direction, using your whistles for what felt like the hundredth time that day as you ran

• By the time closing hours came around, it was dark enough outside to make you yawn. It took a significant amount of convincing to get the three of them, mostly Chounce, to leave and stop bouncing, but it eventually worked with a few well placed bribes. Namely, handfuls from your unfinished chip bag from earlier

• "You weren't all that bad! Not a wrong'un after all." Tungo eventually confided in you in front of everyone as you went to close up, looking strangely proud about such a mediocre compliment. You grinned at him anyways, finding him to be one of the saner ones throughout the whole ordeal

• "Maybe next time I could judge a match of yours, yeah?" You offered as you thumbed through the cash in the register

• "Please do not encourage them." A familiar voice from outside sounded for the second time that day, making you suck air between your teeth in an attempt not to snort with laughter

• "And remember to check the bathrooms before you leave. One of them likes to hide in them after we close."

• "Sorry, what—"

• You ended up having to drag Chounce out bt his ankles that night and into Master Za's car so he could get home

• "You know what? It's still better than the food truck."

[octuscle]

Hey, so I ran into a bit of a problem with my stupid car. I drove a pretty old model since I didn't have the money to afford a new one (I'm still training to be a doctor). But it finally broke down and now I need to get it fixed. The guy at the auto repair place told me I could borrow one of their models for the next few days for an "extra cost". I need a car to get to work so I was happy to accept and they gave me one of their old lifted trucks. But now I'm starting to wonder what exactly this extra cost is and why I'm suddenly so interested in cars and auto repair. I have a few days left with this truck before I need to return it so any advice would help.

Well, the first extra cost is the scorn and ridicule you get in college. This truck is really embarrassing. A gas guzzling behemoth that you need three parking spaces for. And you literally have to climb into the car. For someone for whom the walk from the parking lot to the lecture hall is already sport, this is of course a horror. You park at the end of the parking lot so that nobody can see you. But on the second day, pictures of you getting out of your car go viral on campus. It was a shitty idea to take the car.

Sitting alone in the canteen, you watch the video of yourself again… Yeah, it looks really silly, you'd be making fun of the lanky guy in that huge car yourself. Even though you'll be rid of this beast in a few days, thank God, and when you can finally drive your Prius again, you should do something for your body. It's not by chance that they say "Mens sana in corpore sano"… You're looking for a gym where no one from your faculty is guaranteed to be studying. A little outside. For men only. No courses, only iron. I'm sure none of your Crossfit or Pilates friends go there. All you need is for someone to post pictures of you using dumbbells online. You join online and arrange a trial session for tonight. You don't know yet whether this is a good idea.

You roll into the parking lot. A parking lot full of pickup trucks. A few lifted trucks too. But yours stands out. Yours is really huge. Somehow you're proud of it. You jump out of the cab and grab your gym bag from the passenger footwell. You've never been here before. But somehow you feel at home. The guy at reception greets you with a fist bump. "Hey, welcome to the dudes-only gym! I'm Chuck. You gotta be Lance, right? Sweet wheels you're rockin' there.". You reply that your name is actually "Lanny", but Chuck just grins and says that a guy like you with a car like that is hardly called Lanny.

Chuck shows you the gym, the changing rooms, the showers and, after you have changed into your workout clothes, takes you to the training area. A bunch of musclemen are sweating on the weights, grunting. The air is thick with sweat and testosterone. Chuck scrutinizes you. "Well, you're no newbie to pumping iron, bro. But a few more pounds of mass would really beef you up. Let me walk you through some of my top moves." This is actually the first time you've ever pumped iron… But you don't contradict me. And follow Chuck's instructions. You train together with Chuck for the first hour. After that, he has to go back to reception. It's only 8:00 pm. The gym is just starting to fill up. The guys here are not men of big words. A nod of the head. That's usually the whole conversation. Apart from the grunt you let out when you finish the last repetition of a sentence with your last ounce of strength, you don't say a word for the next few hours.

Chuck comes onto the training area at 00:30. You are about to get your biceps on fire. "Big boy, it's time, I want to call it a day." He stares at the tent in your pants. The thing is, if you give it your all on the dumbbells, you'll get a hard-on. The two of you are alone on the training area. You finish your last set. You check the result with a double bicep pose in front of the mirror. You pull down your pants. And you and Chuck call it a day.

The next day you park your baby right in front of the university entrance. It's still early, but you want to be back at the gym early. The early bird catches the worm, as they say at home with mom and dad on the farm.

Dann all this medicine shit is terribly tiring and boring. You almost fall asleep in the first lecture. In the cafeteria, you try to talk to a sane person about chiseling iron or tuning engines. But all the idiots here can talk about is medicine and patients and stuff like that. By 4 p.m. you can't take it anymore. You need some normal people around you now. You swap your doctor's coat for a sleeveless checked flannel shirt. You meet one of your professors in the hallway. He asks you if you are one of the janitors. He has a problem with his car. Finally, a sensible task. You were hoping he had a problem with his engine. You would have liked to have had a look at it. He drives a BMW 540, a cool car. But unfortunately, he just changed the language in his on-board computer from English to German. A little something for you. He thanks you and slips you five dollars. Pathetic nerds!

Chuck greets you with a fist bump. Rituals are rituals. He thinks his ass is still sore from yesterday. You should take it easy on him today. You grin, inspect his tight ass and say it's a disgrace. But then he’d probably have a sore throat tomorrow. You laugh. And you head off to the training area. Too bad about Chuck. But there'll be another ass to fill today. There are lots of tight asses here. But first you work on your own. Leg day!

The next day, park your baby right outside the entrance. It's still early, but you want to be back at the gym early. The early bird catches the worm, as they say at home with mom and dad on the farm. In the workshop, they call you the truck doc. Because you can fix any problem. And because you once studied medicine. That was a long time ago. It was an idea you had in your youth. But you're not a guy who works with his head. You work with your calloused hands. And with your heart. And your heart beats for mighty engines and mighty wheels!

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mediscout headcanons pt 1

This was requested! If you have any little tf2 desires, my asks are open, as are fanfic commissions! Feel free to dm

Personally this ship awakens a beast within if you catch my drift

It started off just like the others. No jarring attraction, no electricity, no 😩🫦💦. Just two dudes who are now very weird coworkers

Medic def has a type and Scouts fit the bill. Skinny lanky boy toy! During various experiments and totally inconspicuous injections (he told Scout it was penicillin) he notes the slender frame and the lean muscles but he is a professional after all

Scout, however, is not

He’s initially unnerved by Medic and attributes it to the threatening, could-vivisect-you aura, but the tightness in his chest when Medic comes too close or Scout catches a hint of his french cologne isn’tfear

They work fairly separately for a while. Yes, they live together, but they also live in a chaotic team of nine with very different jobs. Their conversations aren’t close like Medic and Heavy or Scout and Sniper

Different peers groups yk? And with the age gap, Scout isn’t exactly knowledgeable in whatever the fuck old people talk about

Scout isn’t a little bitch. He got his ass beat as a kid, so he could handle a bloody nose or split lip, and going to the med bay means close contact with a man who makes him feel funny (like, more than any chick ever had), so Scout keeps out

Medic doesn’t like that. Medic usually corrals someone onto the operating table, and Scout becomes his main target. The others don’t mind since they aren’t being sliced up but there are a few comments between Engineer and Heavy about it

They aren’t uncomfortable, but they notice. No one had made it weird so Engie wasn’t about to do so and neither was Heavy. They just notice an uptick of scout/medic conversations, the two bumping into each other a bit more, and the brutality of experiments on Scout decreasing

They’re highkey jealous LMAO who knew the doctor wouldn’t hurt you if he thought you were hot

Medic starts insisting Scout come in the med bay more. That doesn’t last long, because Scout quickly starts going on his own will

“I uh, need a bandaid” absolutely bitchless and unsure of himself it is pitiful! Medic finds it endearing

By this point Scout is aware he finds Medic attractive but is repressing the shit out of it. Internalized homophobia, tragically.

The way Medic towers over him, with his broad stature completely enveloping Scout haunts the runner and Scout starts having some silly little thoughts he just can’t control

During fights with BLU, he watches Medic haul the medigun and really starts spamming E ifykyk

What if Medic was rough with him? What if Medic held him down, or pinned him against the wall? Scout can’t help the images that pop into his head despite his best efforts, and he really can’t help the flush his skin takes when Medic touched him or speaks in a low tone

Scout is folded like a five dollar lawn chair and foolishly thinks he’s hiding it well

Medic knows and is toying with Scout like a cat. Bats at the mouse, holds his leg a little too long after looking at Scout’s ankle. He backs off and acts like there’s nothing tense about leaning over Scout for something on the counter

Medic is surprisingly chill if he’s in his element. Find him in the med bay, cleaning or tinkering with something fleshy, and he is really just vibing. If you’re Scout sitting on the counter watching, then Medics dropping knowledge of the human body

Medic exercising his intelligence sends Scout into heat highkey. Boy has no idea what the fuck he’s talking about but damn those hands that accent the big words!! He is desperate!!

Apologies for the set up rather than active relationship head canons. I’ll post some getting together, fluffy, and maybe nsfw headcanons for this pair!! Didn’t want a too long post and am tbh exhausted 😜

[hopekreymin]

Do you have any body type headcanons for each dude? I personally think that p4 is the one with the most muscle definition and p2 is the skinniest

Oh, of course I thought about it. I like to imagine that P1/Redux Dude is not overly athletic and has no visible abs, but has toned arms. He has fairly broad shoulders and doesn't look too skinny at all, just average. And his arms are really quite big, just like the Redux Dude model😭 It makes you wonder if it will be nice to hug him or if you will be afraid that he will choke you...

I also imagine P2 Dude to be thinner and more lanky than the other Postal Dudes. But sometimes I draw him with a little belly, probably more of a beer belly or something. Or is it because of his weird and trashy diet?

Hear me out, WHAT IF P3 DUDE IS CHUBBY😧 I don’t know why, because his model in the game is completely different, but I like to headcanon this. At first I thought that maybe he had a chubby belly, but skinny arms and legs, but then it seemed kind of silly to me. So I draw him stocky and with a little soft belly.

I think it would make sense if P4 Dude had a dad bod. Overall, a little toned, muscular and stocky, but still with some fat and perhaps even loose skin in some places or stretch marks.

Corkscrew? I'm always divided on him. But most people portray him as athletic, but not without, shall we say, some roundness(BOOBS AND BOOTY) I've only seen him portrayed as chubby a couple of times.

[whalesforhands]

Hi! I’m the one who requested dread creeps around the corner. AND MAN DID YOU DELIVER I WAS SPEECHLESS DUDE ADJKKJHGGGGGGHH. It perfectly captured what I was thinking thank you!!!! Honestly just the way you write Gojo being an ass but only cause he’s emotionally constipated and Geto balancing him out but also being a little sly in his advances and Shoko just bring the queen she is??? Mwuh chefs kiss. I have grown to love angst over the years but I still love my favorite of hurt/comfort. OHH MY GOD IDEAAAA!!! What if reader and Gojo get assigned to a mission (their first one together) and Gojo is forced to just be his asshole self without Geto or Shoko to reel him in and kinda just makes reader doubt their abilities and feel down the entire time unconsciously and doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong and how to fix it when reader starts to withdraw from him and talks less. But that’s until they actually end up meeting the curse and Gojo is somehow caught off guard but is saved by readers cursed technique just in time and they end up syncing in the fight so well and he is just in awe and gains more respect for them (aside from their ability to keep fighting no matter what). And so they get home with Geto and Shoko anxiously waiting for them cause they know how Gojo is but are so surprised to see Gojo making dumb jokes and you actually laughing at them as you guys walk back. Sorry if my requests are too specific. I want them to be more inspirational then anything else so you have leeway to write whatever you feel fits and just wanna share my thoughts. No pressure to actually write any of this ofc!!

the way i loved this. but with infinity, gojo’s definitely not getting injured. i changed it up a little.

first gojo-centric fic, congrats to me!

can’t see you through my ego (gojo x reader, mention of geto x reader x gojo)

warnings: gojo is an ass and i hate and love him, i will step on any gojo hate train

“I think you need more experience with danger, (last name).”

Yaga sighs, massaging his temple as he looks up at you.

“You want to get stronger, right?”

So here you were, staff strapped to your back as Gojo held onto a small duffel bag. Skipping along as he hummed a popular idol’s song, as you trailed hesitantly behind him, hands nervously squeezing the strap holding your weapon.

“Who knows? Maybe Gojo will finally learn something.”

“And it was like,” He spreads his lanky arms out, your duffel bag hanging off one of them. “Thiissss long! But it was so ugly!” He was laughing as he described the apparent strength of a Grade 2 curse he fought.

“Of course, it was never any match for me!” His chest puffed out as he continued to walk backwards, sunglasses beginning to slide off his nose as he looked down at you with a bright grin.

You giggled politely, happy to distract yourself from the nervousness of having your first mission with ‘the chosen one’.

(It helps that he was always so cheerfully silly.)

“Mhm, you are very strong, Gojo-san.”

A small blush was dusted across his cheeks as he heard your laughter, quickly turning his back on you to hide his face.

Suguru told him that compliments can put you in someone’s good graces.

“You know,” He began, sunglasses clad eyes turning briefly to you before they looked away. “Don’t you think your little shields are like my infinity? Just less effective, I guess. Since you’re so weak and all.”

You still.

…oh. He’s not wrong. You aren’t very strong compared to him.

“I-I guess you’re right, Gojo-san.” You didn’t expect to have your technique ridiculed today. It wasn’t flashy like his or Geto’s but it was good enough.

Good enough for you to be Grade 3 sorcerer anyway.

(Having 2 special grade sorcerers in your class, and 1 having a special focus exclusively on reverse cursed techniques didn’t help your insecurities.)

“I suppose you would be fine even if Yaga sent you alone on this mission, huh?” You didn’t even know your insecurities were starting to be vocalised.

You don’t blame him. You really doubt in your abilities as a sorcerer compared to him and Geto.

Gojo takes barely even a moment to respond. You were complimenting him back, right?

“Of course! I’m one of the strongest, after all!” He was proud and happy, his pride swelling in his chest as he said that out loud with confidence, with ego. It felt nice to have you find him to be soooo dependable.

Embarrassment rolls over you like a large tidal wave, smashing into you violently, the pressure crushing you under its weight.

You don’t really get why you even agreed to come anymore. You should’ve just stayed home and wallowed even more in your shame.

Gojo continues to talk, anticipating your replies. It… Seems that they were getting shorter and more brief?

(“Mhm.” “I see.” “That’s nice, Gojo-san.”)

Did he say something wrong?

——

The Grade 1 curse had been a pain in the ass. With a technique that was based off of wind, it was blowing everything to smithereens.

The unconscious civilians it had taken hostage weren’t a factor Gojo had considered either.

The curse screams, it’s breath sending the bodies of its victims hurled into the air, the strong gusts threatening to form a tornado to rip them limb from limb to digest them bit by bit.

They need saving. Time slows, his eyes counting the number of civilians. 18.

18 people need saving. 18 useless, non-sorcerers that required the strong, the protection of the sorcerers.

18 nuisances to his mission. Whatever happened to kill the curse and get out?

God, this wouldn’t have happened if these non-sorcerers weren’t so damn weak.

Gojo Satoru finds protecting the ones who can’t protect themselves, a pain. He should ignore them and focus on the curse, right? Suguru wasn’t here to chide him anyway.

Suguru… Suguru would be disappointed in him. Suguru would’ve wanted him to save them. Gojo grits his teeth. How would he save all of them in time?

Using Blue was out of the question, his technique not quite fully mastered. It’s a risk.

A risk he has to take if he was to prove himself as one of the strongest.

He’s surprised when he sees you hurriedly crashing your staff into the ground, he was sure you were out of commission after sensing the sheer energy this curse possessed. He thought you would finally give up and run away this time.

“Cursed technique: Claustra!”

He feels your cursed energy begin to flare up exponentially.

“Just…” A huff of breathlessness. “Because… You’re strong…” You dig your staff deeper into the ground, your cursed energy blaze out of you as you release your technique. “Doesn’t mean you can ignore the innocent!”

Multiple of your barriers begin to form midair, catching the unconscious civilians and bubbling them up safely as you tried to maneuver them to safety.

“Gojo-san!” You shout, the force of your cursed technique increasing as your feet dug themselves into the dirt, trying to stand your ground. “Focus on the curse! I’ll make sure everyone is safe!”

He’s never been ordered around before. Not even by Suguru.

He decides to listen anyway, activating Blue to appear behind the curse.

“Well then.” He stretches his arms over his head. “My little lady has commanded me to destroy you.” He breathes out a puff of air, as if annoyed when the curse thrashes its arms against his infinity.

It snarls at him, spittle flying out and reflected back at it. Gojo watches you bubble more knocked out civilians to safety. They won’t even know you helped them.

What’s the point of you even focusing on them?

“I want to make her in awe of me, you know?” He speaks to the curse that was blasting him with its acidic slime, growling as it bounced off of his technique.

Gojo grins, slipping off his sunglasses as he looks at the curse dead-on, watching it freeze in its movements as it felt the threatening flare of cursed energy emanating.

“So why don’t you die a little more dramatically, hmm?”

——

He approaches you as you sit against a tree trunk, heaving heavily and out of breath, your nose bleeding as you held your handkerchief up. Your uniform had been torn from the force of the debris flying around you, a few bruises and scratches decorated your hands and arm due to the torn off sleeve of your uniform.

Must be tough not having Limitless. Running out of cursed energy was never a problem for him, nor was getting injured. Not in small fry fights anyway.

“Yo.”

“Ah-“ You continue to press your handkerchief to your nostrils. “Gojo-san…” You take a deep breath in. “Good job… On taking care of the curse.”

You must be quite the pathetic sight for him. Laying on your ass, barely able to move due to some wind that didn’t even graze him.

To win in a fight so easily with one blast of his cursed technique whilst you were useless in the fight, struggling to save the people around you.

You’re pathetic. Your eyes cast themselves down towards the ground as his shadow looms over you.

It reminds you of the time he first saved you. You’re surprised when he settles down next to you, his arm brushing your shoulder due to his height as he crossed his legs and laid against the trunk with you, closing his eyes.

It’s then that you notice the cut on his cheek.

Perhaps it was instinct, your worry for him. Your hand reaches out and brushes the skin just below the injury.

“Are you okay…?”

His eyes open, those beautiful optics of his opening to look at your worried expression.

Before he bursts out laughing.

It was the absurdity of it. You, who definitely was in a much worse state than he was, asking if he, the Gojo Satoru, was okay from a singular tiny scratch.

You’re too precious.

“You should look at yourself first!” He laughs, his arm coming round to wrap around your shoulders as he ruffles your hair.

(He’s right, you know? You’re in a terrible state.)

You blush, embarrassment creeping up as you struggle to stop him from messing with your already tragic looking hair.

“Well- I’m sorry for being worried about you!” You huff, frustratedly turning your head away from him.

You feel his hand settle itself back on your hand. This time, it simply patted you. Softly, gently.

“Thank you, thank you.” You can practically hear the grin in his voice. “Good job out there.”

A… Compliment?

“I wouldn’t have saved those people in time at all if it weren’t for you.”

“…”

“You were really helpful out there.”

You peek back, only to see a smile on his face. His sunglasses were off, his eyes upturned and happy.

He was being genuine.

You feel your heart beat just a little faster.

——

“Geto, with how much tea you’re drinking, I’m surprised you haven’t exploded.”

“No…” He pauses, brows furrowed in thought for a moment. “That’s not going to happen.”

She grins, her finger tracing the rim of her own can of green tea.

“Worried about the mission those two are taking together?”

Geto smiles, the expression tight, almost constipated looking as he tries to feign calmness and serenity.

“Now whoever said that? I’m as calm as can be.”

Silence as Shoko scoffs, hands playing with her lighter in one as the other held her open can.

“Sure. That’s why we’re waiting by the entrance of the school, looking for their transport back.”

“I’m not worried at all.”

…

…

…

“What was the car plate number again?”

“34-67.” The reply was immediate, as if he had committed it to memory.

Geto coughs awkwardly into his hand as he realized he took the bait.

“Maybe I… Am a little anxious.” Suguru lets out a sigh, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “You know how Satoru can be.”

“And that’s how he treats the people he likes?”

Suguru hums, a small smile making its way onto his face. “He’s just an idiot who can’t put a finger on his emotions. We’re only human, after all.”

Suguru had firsthand experience.

“Hahahah! Right? Right?!” Geto and Ieiri both whip their heads up at the boisterous laughter of Gojo.

They’re surprised at the sight.

You were donning a blazer far bigger than your usual one, holding your duffel bag as your staff was strapped to Gojo’s back.

Gojo, in his uniform, minus his blazer.

You were giggling, hand over your mouth as you tried to contain the laughter spilling from your lips.

“You shouldn’t eat all those treats just because you were angry at him, Satoru-kun!” You were basically babbling with happiness, tears gathered at the corner of your eyes as you tried to hold back the joy, your middle starting to hurt.

“Ehh? Lose the honorifics already. They sound weird!” Gojo shivered in mock horror, tongue sticking out to express his disgust as you laughed again.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop okay, Satoru?” You grinned up at him, looking into his eyes.

A breeze blew through the both of you momentarily, the setting sun casting a warm orange glow over the both of you as you stared at each other. The way the shining sun shone behind him…

It was… Odd. A fleeting warmth enveloping your heart as you trailed from his eyes, to his bandage covered cheek to his lips.

He always looked so pretty. You could spend hours just staring at him. It felt… Nice when he was looking at you. You want to keep his gaze here. You want to stay in this moment forever. Could you…?

Before Satoru was tackled to the ground by two people, anyway.

“What did you do to her?!”

“Did you replace her with a robot?!”

“Get off of me-! You big, heavy lugs- Suguru, you don’t feel as heavy?!”

You laugh at the sight, Geto laying atop Gojo as Shoko sat on Satoru’s knees, holding him down. It looked like a piled on hug.

You laugh, kneeling down carefully and wrapping your arms around Shoko and Geto as Satoru whines about letting him join on the ground.

“We’re back!”

masterlist

Notes:

The scratch wasn’t from the curse. Satoru let himself get scratched by a tree branch to see your reaction.

You and Gojo actually have matching bandaids here! Though you only got to pick out one, whilst he could choose many, many wacky little designs.

You both actually ate ice-creams before coming back. (Gojo paid.)

Geto was worried that you would come back somber and downcast, a product of hearing Gojo’s backhanded words. He hasn’t slept very well whilst Gojo was gone as well.

Ieiri thought that Gojo would brainwash you into thinking you were useless, and was ready to give him a lecture on manners if she saw you sad.

There were originally 35 known hostages. With the time of travel and days needed to track down the curse, both of you had expected all 35 to be dead. 18 live on.

i was thinking of bubbles when trying to think of reader’s cursed technique lol

[shewrites444]

competitive edge [xavier thorpe x reader smut]

[ like usual, written by me and only me. i figured an enemies to lovers trope would be an interesting one to write, so enjoy ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) ]

word count - 2k

[summary: the reader and xavier have never gotten along, but when they're unexpectly forced to be on the same team for the poe cup, the two learn they're more alike, sexually, than they think.]

[warnings: enemies to lover trope, teasing, quick sex, risky sex]

-

"are you fucking serious, ajax? you told me xavier wasn't going to participate this year." i roll my eyes in annoyance, walking down to hall with the boy as we turn into our biology class. "you know i wouldn't have agreed to any of this if i knew he was coming."

ajax signed, sitting down on the black stool before setting his backpack on the floor. "it's really not that big of a deal, [y/n]. it's not like you have to talk to him, you know." he opened his notebook and clicked his pen to begin taking notes. "and remind me again why you two are so called mortal enemies in the first place?"

"he humiliated the shit out of me freshman year, dude. remember?" i look up to ajax in confusion and a bit of frustration. "i don't know who could forget he was the one that started the rumor i brought that red paint to the rave'n because i had failed one of miss thornhill's exams and he didn't, which like, almost caused me to get expelled."

"well, if it makes you feel better, i did forget. but now you have reminded of that disaster of an event, so thanks for that." ajax jokes, winking at me playfully as i scoff, burying my head into my hands as i think about the events that were about to unfortunately unfold this weekend.

the reason i disliked xavier sounded kind of silly, but it really did take a toll on me. we had lightly competed a bit in terms of academics since we were freshman at nevermore, and when he scored better than me on that exam and i was going to take it to principal weems (since i never failed anything in my life), he like, flipped out on me and caused an entire scene that was a normie's fault in the first place. we had no previous grudge, but since that day, we've barely spoken, and when we did, it was because we were either in the same friend group, or in class for a project of some sort. this whole poe cup ordeal made me just wanted to drop out of our group, but it was too late now - the competition was literally in two days.

so the next 48 hours were pretty stressful for me in terms of how i'd be able to move past this and put on a fake smile for a few hours so that we were able to win this and have it be over with.

when the time finally rolled around, i sat in the brown boat with a cold expression and a stupid costume, grabbing the oar and feeling a familiar lanky presence sit behind me, squeezing my side as i winced with a heavy blush on my cheeks, turning around and punching no other than xavier thorpe in the arm.

"fuck off, thorpe." i say quietly, looking up to the boy as he laughed, shaking his head at my frustration.

"it's been almost two years, [y/n]. can't you loosen up? no one remembers anything that happened, like, ages ago." xavier justifies himself, grabbing an oar and holding it to his side. "can't we just get along for a few hours, at least? i don't bite, [y/n]."

i roll my eyes, looking up to him with a blank stare. "i don't think it's necessary for us to speak throughout this."

"i do." he grins, tilting his head to the side as he glanced down at my figure. "i can't not look at you dressed like an idiot."

"we are literally wearing the same thing." i snap, turning around and shaking my head. "asshole."

the sound of xavier's laughter taunted my ears as i glanced in front of me at the blue lake before us, anxiously awaiting our cue to go so that this could go any faster. time felt like it was on standby from how much i wished this was done with, so i knew this was the universe's way of just forcing me to go through an uncomfortable situation to maybe somehow bring peace to it. who the fucks know?

the sound of the whistle finally cues us to go. as each boat begins to rapidly row across the water, the sirens, like always, rigged the game by knocking over several boats with one of their teammates, but we were luckily not one of those boats. in a way, i obviously wished we were. this couldn't end any sooner.

as we reached land, ajax got out of the boat and looked to me while i set my oar down, helping me up and watching as xavier stepped out after me. he sighed, looking to the two of us. "both of you go ahead and find the flag, please. i can watch the boat so no one fucks it up."

my eyes widen and i shake my head frantically in rejection to his idea, looking to xavier who grabs my hand and immediately yanks me towards him as we run into the empty woods.

"seems that whenever i want to get away from you, this bullshit keeps us together!" i shout to him with annoyance as i yank my hand away, jogging behind him while i look around the forest.

he smirks, turning around to face me. "that should say something, hm?"

"shut up." i scoff, watching him laugh as his hat bounces with each step he took. he looked ridiculous, but no matter how much i wanted to not admit it, he oddly looked kind of.. cute. gross.

i stop in my tracks as we run into an abandoned white building, where our flag was stuck against the side of a nearby tree. i walk over to grab it, but upon turning around, i bump into xavier, who's now hovered above me.

"move." i say, looking up to him, my lips pursed together. "we need to get back to ajax. we have the flag."

xavier takes the flag from me, dropping it to the ground. he steps closer, forcing my back to hit the back of the tree while he moves one hand to cup the side of my painted face. "he can wait. these flags take forever to find anyway, we just happened to get lucky."

"no way, xavier. if you think i'd even do as much as kiss you, then you're fucking insane." i push my hands against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he persists, moving his other hand to the top of my pants, sliding his fingers down to press against my warmth.

i rest my head against the tree, looking up to him and shake my head, sighing heavily through my nostrils. "no. this is wrong. you fucked me over."

he leans down to meet my height, opening his mouth and beginning to lick from the side of my cheek to my jawline, planting kisses to the left until he is now up to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss against my painted skin.

"your body doesn't think it's wrong."

he was right about that. damn it.

whatever - fuck it.

i reluctantly return the kiss that was probably a mistake, looking around us to make sure we were in the clear, before i unzip the front of his suit, my hand sliding down into his underwear as i grab his hardened length, beginning to pump him while he rubs his fingers against the outside of my costume, small grunts coming from his closed lips as he looks down to my hand on his dick.

"let me fuck you, [y/n]." xavier looks up to me, moving his hands to unzip my front, pushing it off my shoulders to expose my black bra. "and then we can hate each other again if you'd prefer it that way."

i smirk, moving my free hand to slide my bra straps down and expose my chest. "tell a soul and i'll kill you."

xavier grins, leaning down to slide his hand into my underwear and his mouth onto my chest, pressing kisses around my breasts before his lips attached to my nipple, sucking the bud aggressively as he slid one finger into my entrance, the two of us pleasuring each other into such a sensational edge that i really couldn't take not having him inside me right now already.

"fuckkkk..." i moan, looking down to him as he reached one hand over to pick me up, straddling my legs on each side of him while he kept one finger inside me, moving my hand to the bottom of his dick to position himself towards my entrance, looking up to me with nothing but lust in his face while he takes his finger out and slides his dick into my wet entrance.

he groans, his head falling back while he slowly begins to pump his length inside of me, my covered ass pressing against the tree behind me while he begins to pick up his pace rather quickly, so that within a matter of seconds, he was slamming himself inside of my walls, while my arms wrapped around his neck, and our lips crashed together, bodies in sync as we fucked so fast that almost everything in me was numb except the most indescribable, dirty feeling that i was fucking someone who nearly ruined my life because he couldn't admit i was smarter, and better.

"you gonna cum soon?" i say through shaking breath, breaking our kiss to meet our eyes instead.

xavier nods silently, his lips pressed together while he continues to pound me, looking down to watch as my tits bounced rapidly through his thrusts. "mhm.. are you?"

"you're not gonna make me cum." i tease, my voice smooth and seductive while i look up to him with a taunting smile. "you don't get to have that, xavier. i said you could fuck me, but i never said you could cum."

his eyes widen and he tilts his head to mock my actions, but a smirk grows on his face while he grabs my ass, holding my tightly while he pumps more and more harshly inside of me. "you're funny for that, [y/n]. i know you want me to cum from you. i know that when we pass each other in the halls, in the dorms, anywhere, that you're gonna wish i was fucking you all over again... you're gonna want me behind you, on top of you, you riding me.. you're gonna regret saying things would go back to the way they were, because they won't.. i won't let that happen, because i wanna fuck you sooo much more than just once.. i wanna fill your pussy over and over, because no matter how much you hate me.. you're gonna want me inside you again.."

my mouth hangs open as he speaks, my cheeks so heated that i can feel the burn while he finishes speaking and instead moans loudly, his cum filling my pussy and dripping into my underwear as he sets me down and zips his suit up, doing the same for me after adjusting my bra back into place.

i stand in disbelief, watching him grab the flag, and then my hand. he grins, leading my towards the boat.

"you're so fucking cocky." i mutter, looking down at the ground while we continue to walk.

"you're so fucking hot." he winks, reaching his hand over to lightly tap my ass.

"oh, shut the hell up." i roll my eyes, a small grin on my lips as i take his hand into mine again.

"never." xavier says as we reach ajax, and hand him the flag, getting back into the boat. he leans over to rest his head on my shoulder as we get back into place. "gotta say, i already love this new dynamic between us."

"fuck you."

"again already?" xavier gasps with a hint of sarcasm. "gosh, [y/n]. didn't know you wanted me that bad."

i smirk to myself, nudging his chest with my elbow. "i've never hated you more, thorpe."

[lycankeyy]

if you'll have me

Grins so big and wide like that one cat gif. BF number three everyone give it up for BF number three /silly. I'm actually not super confident in how I wrote YS here but whatever it's passable I think. Brayden tiem,,,

BFs in this one-shot: brayden (wildfire!bf, mine), ys (yourself/hs!bf, @ochrearia), boyf (fc!bf, mine) briefly

Note: Yourself isn't referred to by name for most of this and Boyf isn't for all of it. Lol. Also mild tw for like. Loosely implied suicidal ideation. Idk it's there BDKWHDJ

-

To say the past few days or so had been weird would be an understatement. It wasn't every day you had someone walk in through your mirror, let alone have that happen twice, though to be fair, Brayden had seen weirder.

He was a fairly solitary person, outside of his day job. Gina had pretty much been his only friend outside of Nene, who he only got to talk to on rare occasions anyway. He'd only met back up with Pico and Darnell recently, and while they'd been kind to him, they weren't exactly on speaking terms, in his eyes.

Brayden had also, as previously mentioned, dealt with all sorts of weird shit. Shapeshifting aliens, zombies, shapeshifting supervillains unrelated to the shapeshifting aliens, weird shit from other timelines. So the first time he saw some lanky, kind of off-putting dude on the other side of the mirror, and that guy that proceeded to attempt to speak to him, he didn't hesitate.

To be fair, this was the first time in a while his "shoot first, ask questions later" mentality ended up doing more harm than good.

He wasn't even necessarily talking about the guy who came in later. There's a lot in the way someone reacts to pain being inflicted upon them that tells you about their intentions. And from this other him's reaction, his intrusion wasn't at all malicious.

Brayden felt a lot in those weird few seconds that the other him hobbled off back wherever he came from before he could even process the thought to rectify what he'd just done. Not that a guy would want to have their wound dressed by the guy that just shot them, but it was the thought that counted. Or something.

There wasn't a lot to do after the fact other than feel guilty. Good going, idiot, you shot a complete fucking innocent. There goes your good record. You sure as shit aren't seeing the pearly gates now, fuckwad. And so on and so forth. He didn't even have work the next day due to the Dearests going on a brief vacation, so he had a whole thirty-six hours to mope into his pack of cigarettes.

And then this second fucking guy showed up.

It was yet another him (he called this one Phoney), little shorter than the other guy but a lot taller than him, and with a scar a lot like his own, but on the opposite side of his face. This guy made it immediately clear that the other guy was close to him, and, well, he didn't intend to let the whole shooting him in the leg thing go unanswered.

Aiming to be useful in these increasingly odd circumstances, Brayden very graciously offered Phoney his gun to shoot him in retaliation with. For whatever reason, the guy didn't accept it. Even looked a little disturbed that he offered. The nerve of some people.

That apparent social blunder sort of shut Phoney down all together. He'd clearly come over looking for a fight, but by that point, he almost looked like he pitied him.

Pitied was a pretty horrible thing to be. It was like the gross, moldy leftovers of love. He never understood the appeal.

Anyway, eventually that guy left, having gotten over whatever he came there for. Or something. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure what the guy was hoping to gain if he didn't want to shoot him in the fucking leg like Brayden had the other guy. Whatever. At least he wouldn't have to explain to his boss why he had a hole in his thigh. Just why his smoker's cough got a little worse over the weekend.

That was until about two days later, when he was trying to pass out after his usual shift of "protecting" Gina, and he was visited yet again by one of these... mirrorwalking... clone... guys.

Surprisingly, it was the taller one. Visibly not at peak performance, because duh, and Brayden was thinking that he probably shouldn't be standing. So he said so. "You shouldn't be walking on that yet."

Not-Brayden shrugged, and while the pain wasn't one that could be easily hidden, Brayden could tell he was doing his absolute damndest to try. "Brothers say so, too. Doesn't hurt that bad, though."

Brayden blinked. "You've got some nuts, coming back after that," he said, and while other people might see that as a threat, it was actually a completely genuine compliment from him. Not that he wouldn't do the same thing in that situation, he just knew that wasn't exactly normal.

"I could tell you didn't mean it," he said, still remarkably casual. For as much of an act as he was willing to put up, he finally gave in to the urge to sit down on the bed, something it seemed he was completely unwilling to do until either Brayden gave him permission to do so or his leg finally gave out under him - he hadn't noticed the first option fast enough for the second not to come to pass. "Thought I'd drop by so you could get it off your chest. I wouldn't have kept you hanging for so long if I could have helped it."

Again, that was a weird ass statement. If it was from, like, Mr. Dearest or something, he'd see it as some sort of weird ego trip, basically telling someone you knew they wanted to apologize for something.

But maybe it was something about this guy's clearly slightly supernatural appearance, or the fact that he looked so similar to him, but he just kind of knew what he meant. And that was that, somehow, he'd been able to tell. Tell that he'd been sitting here in his pathetic little guilt puddle for days.

And obviously, that was a little mortifying. That isn't the kind of thought spiral you want other people knowing about. Kinda harshed the cool, rugged hitman vibe that he had going on.

Looking at him, though, it was impossible to deny that, yeah, that was exactly what had been going on, and he did feel awful, and he was sorry. He was really sorry.

"I just thought you were a shapeshifter or something. Better safe than sorry," he explained - but, damn it, wasn't that just an excuse? His trainer had always told him he made too many excuses. "... but I guess I'm pretty sorry now. So. Sorry."

Not-Brayden gave him a lopsided grin, clearly nonplussed about all this. "It's fine. It was bound to happen one of these times anyway, the amount of people I've scared the shit out of."

"You do this sort of thing a lot?" Brayden asked, tilting his head like a dog. Yeah, that was kind of a miracle. Before the other him could even respond, he continued absentmindedly, "is that where that other guy that looked like me came from? You just some squad of other me's?"

"Pretty much," he replied, almost looking grateful he caught on so quickly. Brayden briefly wondered how cushy the others' lives must be to not get it in two total seconds, before he realized that he was probably the weird one. "I can pick up on when other versions of me need support, so I do what I can."

At that, maybe to incidentally prove his point of being a weirdo, Brayden practically coughed out a laugh. "Good luck helpin' me, man. You're looking at Philly's lost cause numero uno." And he was proud of that, too. You know how many people were at rock bottom in this city? Because it was depressing.

If you asked him, he wouldn't be sure why he said that. It wasn't exactly a dick measuring contest, and if anything, he'd just be repelling one of the few things he'd wanted this whole time. But he said it, and amazingly, the other him didn't seem too fazed.

Maybe if he was the taddest bit smarter, he'd be able to tell that it was because that sort of thinking, as well as his unshaking belief in it, was the exact reason he'd been drawn to him in the first place.

"Either way," he continued casually, "it's more about you than me. As long as you want me around, I'm here. If you don't..." He gestured vaguely back to the bathroom, concerning the mirror. "Up to you."

Brayden felt like his brain stopped working.

What... what was he supposed to say in response to that? He wasn't sure he'd ever made a friend willingly in his entire fucking life. People just adopted him off the street like a stray cat. Was he even allowed to want this?? Like, externally?? Was he allowed to say, yeah, dude, I am so unbelievably fucking lonely, please for the love of god, I don't know what I did to deserve this but I have decided in the last five seconds that I would die for you?

"Will your friend be okay with that?" He blurted out, before realizing that bordered on incoherent without further context. "The other... me's, like, you all talk, right? One was here the other day and he was pissed, they all must hate me, right?"

The other him screwed up his face a little, looking behind him. He'd definitely considered it, and he definitely cared, but he looked like he was trying to convince himself to stop doing so. "They'll get over it. They're mad for my sake, and I don't want them to be mad." After a moment, he shrugged again. "Most of them hated me at first, anyway. Something to bond over, I guess."

Something clicked in Brayden's brain. Given how this guy talked about the other them’s... when he mentioned brothers earlier, he wasn't talking about the biological kind. Those other them’s were this guy's family. And he wasn't just being invited to some weird interdimensional BF mafia, he was being invited to a fucking family unit. Out of nowhere.

That wasn't... right. He hadn't done anything to deserve that. His parents were about the best he deserved in the first place, and they'd practically abandoned him when he was fifteen. He barely had a job. He didn't have a house. He had two friends, total. His life was essentially meaningless and over already at age nineteen. What the fuck was this? An anime plot??

Why couldn't he just outright say no???

"Are you..." He trailed off, the words starting to come out before they were even fully formed in his mind. "Are you sure you want me? I shot you damn near point-blank with an assault pistol, man. You're lucky you even still have two legs. There has to be someone better."

He only got the same frustrating, and somehow much more terrifying answer. "It isn't about me."

Brayden had learned a lot in his short life. One of those things was when to switch tactics. Clearly, avoiding it wasn't working. Time to break out ol' reliable. "... yeah, alright." He sighed, then tried for a smug grin. "Can't wait to see how shit this goes."

"That's the spirit," Not-Brayden said, almost completely deadpan if it weren't for the slight, almost undetectable comedic lilt to his tone.

There were a few moments of silence. Brayden wasn't exactly sure what to do now. What were you supposed to do after you made friends with someone? Hug them? Show them your rare Littlest Pet Shop collection? Introduce them to your parents??

The awkward air was cut by the other him saying something abruptly. "You can call me Yourself, by the way."

Brayden looked at him for a moment, processing that sentence, before asking, with complete sincerity, "are you sure you're not an evil shapeshifter guy?"

A pause.

"... eh...?"

[amazingmsme]

lee!richie with ler!jason is rattling around my brain right now </3

do you have any hc’s for the nighthawk sillies??

- ☁️

I absolutely LOVE the nighthawk sillies!!! Sorry these took so long, but life’s been crazy lol

Richie is still so shy & timid around the football team, so he acts much more reserved around them than he does with Pete & Ruth

Jason, being the captain of the team, is pretty in tune with his teammates’ emotions & quirks, so he can tell that Richie still kinda feels like an outcast because he keeps his distance from most of them & is clearly suppressing his true personality

He tries to subtly let him know that he can “relax” with them & that they’re all bros, & even tho Richie smiles & nods enthusiastically & says “yeah totally, for sure” Jason can tell there’s still that jock/nerd boundary that Max’s reign of terror instilled in everyone

While Kyle will mess around & play with Richie because he’s just a goofy guy, Jason goes out of his way to include Richie & tease him just like he would any other player

This fic over on wattpad has a chapter with Jason & Kyle teaming up on Richie & even tho it’s set during their Bully Era™️ it lines up so much with how I picture them & it makes me giddy

Once they’re actually friends, he’ll still poke fun at him, kinda like when he told him he fuckin’ stank & needs to hit the showers. Just looking out for him while still being a bit of an asshole about it (a loving one tho!)

Richie is still waaaay too nervous & skittish to try to get revenge for all their antics they pull. Jason is internally screaming because he just wants to see the nerd snap & cut loose with the team the way he’s seen him do with his friend group. Because when that happens, then Jason knows he’s done his job & Richie finally feels accepted

Kyle literally has to drag him into it & help wreck Jason after a game where they lost & he feels like it was his fault. Kyle was tickling him to cheer him up & Richie had the misfortune of walking by. Kyle grabbed his arm & pulled him down & before he could question it, he’s like “go for the hips, he’ll fucking scream” & Richie tried to back out, but Kyle isn’t having any of it, & spills all Jason’s worst spots to “make it easy” for him

Pretty sure I’ve mentioned Richie’s spots before somewhere, but I’ll be damned if I find the post, so if I say something that doesn’t match what I’ve previously said, that’s why. But I think his knees, ribs, ribs & feet would be his worst spots. The dude’s so boney & lanky, so obviously he’s gotta be crazy ticklish in those places

Jason’s worst spots are his thighs, belly, & armpits

Richie’s are his ribs, hips, knees & feet

[squidthesquidd]

hi !!! :DD

could I have some lore &/or info on the human characters pls 🥰👉👈💫💫💫💫

OMG YEAAAAAHHHH 💥💥💥💥💥

First!! Yoyo my beloved: Her full name is Yoanne but everyone just calls her yoyo. she has vitiligo (the kind that shows up on joints and places with lots of movement, i forgor what its called) and her hair is huge because i love big hair. She's basically a genius when it comes to engineering so sometimes she helps fix stuff around the base, and she reaallllyyy wants to get her hands inside literally every piece of tech ever. Also she besties with bumblebee and is teaching him sign language :3 shes a silly goober, ready for anything. also ✨Cottagecore girly✨

nowww Mari!! basically a cryptid in the body of a human nerd. shes tall af, very lanky, looks a bit dead cus she doesn't sleep, shes a freak. She has tfp rafs skillset basically. Computer science and hacking master. She's actually a wanted criminal cus she just wouldn't stop breaking into government files for fun. Officially she's missing, but she's just hanging out with the autobots :) they know she's s criminal but they like her so they keep her at the base. also shes just soooo ready to fight at all times. she WILL throw down with zero hesitation. I keep imagining this one scene where she has a giant laser gun so i think im gonna give her one. also its important to know that shes into scene fashion

and Kai. the dude. the guy. he's literally just chilling. Biologist and biomechanist with a side of chemistry. A bit worried that the other two are so willing to join this giant robot war, but why not i guess? Its better than college. he likes button up shirts with silly patterns and cats. he probably hangs out with prowl a lot :] and ratchet cus he just NEEDS to know everything about cybertronian biology. if he's not hanging with yoyo and mari, he's probably in the medbay reading every single file ratchet owns. he BEGS ratchet to let him watch surgeries. eventually he even starts helping with the surgeries cus tiny hands are very useful

all three went to the same genius college, which is how they met! Mari was the first to discover the bots. she found some files talking about a mysterious crash out in the desert, and she just had to investigate. she ended up finding the autobot base, and the bots saw no issue with her staying cus she literally couldn't leave considering she was wanted by the government. After Mari's disappearance, Kai and Yoyo made it their job to find her, cus the police weren't helping and they missed their friend. They start going through channels they know she would go through, and eventually ended up figuring out about the crash, which they went to check out just in case Mari was there... aaand she was! along with Bee and Cliff. so whoops, guess the bots have two more humans