#sorry again for the long wait on a response

[milktiicup]

do you write for mr scarletella? :) if so, may i request jealous scarlet who makes attempts to get closer to reader (court them) after seeing how close they are to mr crawling

persistence is key

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact. “What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. “You slow in head?”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ yeah idk, lowkey some enemies to (potential) lovers, i have no idea how to characterise mr scarletella, but i tried my best and then i kinda got a little too invested in trying to spin the fic the way i wanted and wrote a little more than usual... sorry if ur disappointed, i tried to keep the whole courting/jealous thing subtle but still kinda there >w<

warnings. canon typical violence >w<

You’re not sure when you met the man in red, but you know he’s stalking you now. And it’s getting seriously old. Unlike the ghosts and monsters you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, this one doesn’t know how to take a hint.

Your first unofficial encounter with him is something that sent shivers down your spine, tucked away under Mr. Crawling’s arm and clutching onto his kimono for dear life. The second encounter was much worse- separated from your other worldly protector and left running down an almost comically long and creepy hallway where he just magically appears in front of you. 

You don’t even think twice before you smash the crowbar into his form with all your strength, but it was futile the way he flickered? in front of your own eyes and left a weird moist residue on your weapon. You scowled, and rudely pointed a finger at him- “What the hell’s your problem, dude?”

In response, he leaned in close- so close that your nose nearly touched his. The tilt of his scarlet umbrella cast a dark shadow over you, and as he peered down, one black eye appeared from behind his hair, locking onto you with a soul-piercing stare. You felt stripped bare under that gaze, vulnerable and exposed, like he was seeing straight into your core, uncovering forgotten memories, pieces of yourself even you couldn’t remember. He smiled—a slow, unsettling curl of his lips that chilled you to your bones—and said something you didn’t understand. It sounded like a question, maybe, though you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care. You spat out a few choice words and swung again, hard.

At least for a while, he left you alone.

Has it been days, weeks, or even months since you’ve got here? It was difficult to keep track, and it was difficult to even care anymore. The place was, without a doubt, growing on you by the day. Even if it was filled with hostile creatures that wanted to eat you sometimes, and when your skin started to get discoloured and you had the inhuman itch that just could never be satisfied- it wasn’t that bad! Hell, you even made a few friends and claimed a comfortable bed in some random room you found.

However, just as you finally started settling into the place, you had your third encounter with Mr. Scarletella.

It started with a dream- from before you came to this world. That man in red… A test of courage, your friends called it- spending a night in those so-called ‘Ghost Apartments.’ Your friends hadn’t known it then, but you were quite familiar with the building for reasons, and set yourself up in a cosy corner and the night was supposed to sail smoothly.

A rumour had surfaced- a tale of a ruin that appears only on rainy days, where you’re warned never to give your name to the figure you’ll meet there. That figure, they said, would take your soul. At the end of a dim hallway, standing silently under a scarlet umbrella, he was waiting. The man in red, eyes hidden beneath his hair. He was watching you. Or was he? Somehow you could feel his stare even if you couldn’t see it. 

You woke up, heart pounding, muttering a string of curses. You groan, rubbing a hand down your face. The discoloration of your skin hadn’t gotten any worse, but it hadn’t gotten better, either. The longer you stayed here, the more the place left its mark. As long as you remained relatively human, and the only thing this place took from you was your memory, you weren’t too fussed. How could you possibly miss something from the other world when all you could remember was smashing a crowbar into someone’s head?

You swing your legs over the bed, feet touching the cold ground. The chill sent a jolt up your spine, and it was almost too tempting to get back under the cosy, warm sheets. You stretch your arms above your head, bones cracking and popping into place and mumble a hazy ‘Good morning’ to Mr. Crawling that should have been in the other bed. Silence wasn’t something you were used to around him- and you whip around so fast that you gave yourself whiplash.

Cursing, you grab your crowbar and stumble out of the room with a hand rubbing your tender neck. You didn’t need to look far- you could see Mr. Crawling at the end of the hallway.

And Mr. Scarletella. 

The man in red was bent over to be face to face with Mr. Crawling, all-too-familiar sinister smirk on his face. Mr. Crawling didn’t look so happy either, and they seemed to be having an argument. You stomp your feet as you make your way over to the two, hand tightening on your crowbar as you ready yourself to fight literal static if it meant leaving your best friend in here alone.

“You,” you scowl, pointing your weapon at him. “You problem?”

Mr. Crawling scurries to your side, a hand gripping onto your clothes. “Dangerous… should get away!” he urges, tugging. 

You shush him with a pat on his head with your free hand and continue to glare at that menace. 

“You like them?” is the only thing Mr. Scarletella asks with a tilt of his head, smile seemingly disappearing into thin air.

Glancing at Mr. Crawling, his face covered in worry- you feel the familiar itch of your skin. You take a breath, going through all the reasons why you can’t actually kill Mr. Scarletella, and loosen the grip on your crowbar. From what you can sense right now, he’s not actually that much of a threat. Just a nuisance that can’t seem to leave you alone. 

“Them friend,” you reply, deadpan. What type of question was that anyway? This guy was a freak. 

That creepy smile grows on his face. "You like me," he says like it’s a fact.

“What the- what?” You share a glance with Mr. Crawling. You turn back to Mr. Scarletella. “You slow in head?”

The smile on Mr. Scarletella’s face falters just for a moment, but it quickly returns, more chilling than before. He stands there, towering above you. Despite your snarky comment, he doesn’t look offended- no, it’s almost as if he’s intrigued by your resistance.

You tighten your hold on the crowbar. “You problem.” You frown. “Go away.”

Instead, his grin deepens, his head tilting at such an unnatural angle that you can feel your stomach churn. It’s as though he’s studying you, savouring every little bit of your discomfort. Surely, turning your head at that angle is gonna hurt… You audibly gulp.

“Problem later,” Mr. Scarletella says, and with an unsettling flicker, he’s gone. 

The next time you saw him after that was in less tense circumstances. It was unsettling after whatever that was with his coy little ‘Problem later’, you weren’t going to worry too much about it for the time being. You decided you’ll worry about it when the problem occurs, which probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas you had. 

The earth shakes, and you’re completely cut off from Mr. Crawling. Wandering down hallways, resting in random rooms- you never really felt alone. You turn a corner, dizziness growing by the minute, and pause.

“You again,” you sigh. You don’t even bother lifting your crowbar at him. “What do you want?”

He appears directly in front of you, causing you to stumble back a few steps at just how tall he is. He bends down to your eye level, umbrella covering both of you once again. “Give name?” he asks. 

“No. Go away.”

“Give name. Teach.”

“Go away!”

“Teach name.”

“Fine! My name’s… you pause. You didn’t actually have to give him your real name, did you? “...Silvair, or something.”

He gets closer to your face. You take another few steps back, but not before you get the smell of blood and dampness off of him. It takes all the willpower in your body to not scrunch your face up. 

“Wrong name.”

“So what? It’s a name.” You scoff. Mr. Scarletella is silent, eerily so, and you can feel his piercing gaze stare through you once more. You awkwardly avoid eye contact, and clear your throat. “I’m… gonna go now, okay?” You turn on your feet and only make it a few steps.

“You teach them name?”

Them? Mr. Crawling? That guy doesn’t even understand the concept of his own name! The scowl feels as if it’s permanently etched onto your face. You whip around, pointing another disapproving finger into his red raincoat. It feels fuzzy… and wet. It grosses you out, almost. More than Mr. Gap’s greasy hair.

“No,” you hiss. “I don’t even remember my own name.” He stares, silently.  “Me,” you point to yourself, “not know name.”

“...Not know name?” he echoes. What you said has him lost, you could see that. 

Just like that, he’s gone again. You don’t see him for a few more days, nor do you find Mr. Crawling. You spend your time aimlessly wandering, knowing eventually you’ll most likely find someone you know in a friendly manner, and not pondering if every ghost you come across is a friend or a foe. 

You awake promptly to a sound of a chainsaw revving. As if it was a morning routine, you stumble to your feet, grasping for your crowbar that should have, without a doubt, been next to you… only to grasp at air. Okay, now you are starting to feel a little panic.

Through trial and error, you knew that whatever wound you receive will heal, with time- but it doesn’t mean you were looking forward to being maimed to shreds with a chainsaw! 

“Hehe.”

You froze, heart racing, and slowly turn around. There that wretched little being was- the stupid little fucker in the goat costume. The ‘Hooded Child’, the thing was termed. In it’s stupid little fucking hands, it held you handy-dandy crowbar that’s been with you thick and thin. Your stomach churns. 

You gulp and face back towards the open doorway- a long black abyss, stretching on and on, with only the haunting bounce of that chainsaw, crawling along the walls. That chainsaw that was about to mince you in a matter of seconds. That chainsaw that was approaching you rapidly.

Frantically, you grab the nearest thing you could reach for. A metal chair. You wince. Probably not the best thing you could’ve grabbed, but it’ll have to do. It’s a matter of- well, technically life or life, but still! You could feel the sweat on your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your heart hammering through your ribcage. 

You lift the chair above your head as the monster comes into view- a tall, masked being in a strapless floor length black dress… wait, why was she dressed so sexy? Your surprise leads you to hesitate as she rushes at you with her machine. You let out a yelp as you whack the chair down in front of you, metal clanging echoing throughout the room.

Complete silence. Not even the sound of that chainsaw. Not even the sound of metal.  

“Huh?” You blink, once, twice, thrice at the sliced up body of that creature, blood splatter on your clothes. There was blood even on the ceiling, too… You drop the chair in utter confusion.  “What the hell?”

“Help you.”

“You again!” You spin on your feet, meeting the dull eyes of Mr. Scarletella. You’re about to huff and puff this guy into next week, but pause. You leave your accusing finger down by your side. This guy just saved you from that thing. You avert your eyes and scuff your feet against the ground with a cough into your fist. “Uhm… Thank you.”

Wow, this guy really has an intense stare… Way to make things unnecessarily intense and awkward. 

“Protect you,” he says. “You like me?”

“Take me out to dinner first, man!” you exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest. “Not like. You not bad. Not good. You okay.”

Mr. Scarletella dons an out of place frown that even makes you feel a little uneasy. “Them protect you. You like them.”

“Them friend,” you stress, finally meeting his gaze once more. You kind of regret it. This guy doesn’t blink. “You…” Weird? Off-putting? Freaky? “...unsafe.”

“Me safe. Protect you. Help you.” 

You sigh. “Unsafe to friend.”

He just stands there, holding that stupid umbrella, with that unblinking stare. You blink at him and squint your eyes. His facial expression doesn’t change. Completely unfazed. You can’t even tell if he’s confused, or upset, or whatever he could possibly be. Your breath hitches as his unsettlingly familiar smile returns.

He tilts his head. “Me good. Me show you.”

Then he’s gone again. You can finally breathe. Your heart is still pumping. You slide against the wall, landing on the ground and resting your head against your knees. You clutch at your raincoat with shaking fists. 

Mr. Scarletella - you knew he was meant to be dangerous, but he just saved you a whole lot of pain. Even if he was still a threat to Mr. Crawling, and hounds you for your name, asks you weird questions, could he honestly be as bad as you originally thought he was? You can’t deny that he did save you… but his presence is more dangerous than comforting. He’s both a threat and an aid, but never clear on which he’ll be at any given moment. One thing is for certain, however, and that was that he was persistent for your attention. Wait… 

Oh my good God, does he like you?

“Heh…”  Chuckling, you tuck your hair behind your ear. “I am pretty cute.”

You stand, and decide it’s better to think about while on the move back to Mr. Crawling. You reach for your crowbar, and curse. Of course. The Hooded Child took it with them when they disappeared when Mr. Stalkerella showed up. Well, you sigh as you drag the chair behind you as you exit the room, at least you have a temporary weapon, for now…

Making it back to Mr. Crawling didn’t take that much longer. He greets you, frown on his face and long arms wrapping around your waist. “Me worried! You gone long time!”  

“Long time,” you agree, bending down to his level. You ruffle his hair, a smile finally sliding onto your face. It quickly turns into a pout as you wave your empty hands. “Lost attack tool.” 

Mr. Crawling points to the spilled blood on your raincoat with a high pitched noise. You sheepishly giggle, and gesture to the chair behind you. He tilts his head, processing, before letting out his all familiar laugh. You sigh in content, glad to see a friendly face and let him pet you for a while. 

He stops petting you, and turns around. “Attack tool!” he smiles wide, your trusty weapon in his grey hands. “Them give me.”

“Them?” you repeat, taking the crowbar, twisting and turning it in your grasp. “Them who?”

“Them!” 

Curse this damn language. 

“Mr. Crawling,” you hold his face in your hands, “what look like?”

His smile falters, and if you could see his eyebrows, you’d imagine they would be furrowed. He takes a moment to think, and points to the blood on your raincoat, and attempts to imitate holding an…

Umbrella.

You stare. And stare. And stare. You can’t even begin to process what Mr. Crawling just said to you, debating maybe you actually were growing crazy and it was finally time to bounce out of this place- andddd of course, you notice a red flicker at the end of the hallway. You tilt your head past Mr. Crawling.

That scarlet umbrella tilts slightly, and just for a split second, you catch a glimmer of that piercing dark eye staring straight at you, as if watching every nerve fire under your skin. You can see his smile from here, as if it was a smug ‘I told you so’ but it was actually a ‘Me show you.’ 

Well… Mr. Scarletella did show you. And now you were just left, to put it simply, utterly fucking confused. It just drilled the narrative down deeper of the possibility that he did like you. So… what do you do now? Do you apologise for trying to smash his head in with a crowbar? For being so rude? 

How do you even apologise for something you don’t even remotely feel sorry for in the first place? Mr. Scarletella was creepy! …At least, he was kind of sweet. Not really- his intentions were anything but kind. But still!

You bite the inside of your cheek. …Is it wrong to feel a little flattered? There’s barely any romance in this place anyway!

In your world, things are either friend or foe, monster or protector. But Mr. Scarletella? He exists in some in-between place. Dangerous yet helpful. It’s as if he’s deliberately defying every category you try to force him into. And now, the memory of his unsettling question repeats in your mind- “You like me?” - echoing in your thoughts with a kind of twisted innocence that gnaws at you, a bit more with each repetition.

Mr. Crawling gives a soft, anxious chirp, tugging you slightly, drawing you out of your thoughts. He’s still eyeing the red figure warily. He points. “Them… dangerous? Them good?” 

“Not know,” you mumble, defeated. “Good, maybe.” You stand to your feet, crowbar falling off of your lap and clanging onto the floor. “Me, them, talk. You stay.”

Mr. Crawling makes a noise of protest, hand reaching out to grasp at your clothes. You reassuringly ruffle his hair once more, and make your way to the end of the hallway. You don’t hear him follow behind you.

Face to face, you stand in front of the smiling Mr. Scarletella. He stares down at you, unblinking, unmoving. 

“Can’t give name,” you remind him.

He leans his face down, ever so close. “Me like you.” A pause. “Want you.” Another pause. “You like me. Give me many human. Give me many blood.” 

Well… In your defence, you didn’t know your corpse dumping ground was Mr. Scarletella’s domain. 

“Getting in over your own head…” you grumble, and lift up your hand. You pinch your fingers together. “Little like you. Okay? LITTLE.” You wonder if this guy’s smile could get any bigger, geez… “You want big like?” You point your index towards him. “Be normal. Be good. Understand?”

“Normal? “Good?” He seems to chew over the words like they’re a foreign delicacy, his head tilting at that unnatural angle again. “For… you?”

“You good,” you waggle your finger at him, “I teach name. Maybe. If I can remember it…”

There’s an unnatural, prolonged silence in the air. You’re beginning to feel the awkward tension once more, but your resolve refuses you to break the unblinking eye contact you keep with him. 

And finally, he speaks once more, agreeing to your proposition, “You teach good, you teach name.”

You hold back your groan- whatever this dance you two were playing, was going to take a long time to progress.

But at least something is better than nothing, right?

[jam3sacaster]

“I can’t sleep. I just think of you.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by the wonderful @nebulastarr / Rupert realises he’s in love with reader.

Sorry if this seemed a bit long winded, I just like a slow burn ya know.

18+ FANFIC / No smut, just a few lewd references & a soft, soppy mess 🫶🏽 Blood mention! Reader character aged 21. Please request any pieces you want! Just hit my ask box with a character and/or suggestion 💋

Whilst chopping a medley of large misshapen onions, the incessant ticking of your dining room grandfather clock taunted you — a constant reminding of passing time. You had been seeing Rupert Campbell-Black for a few weeks now. Well, you say seeing, more-so arriving at Penscombe Court as soon as he clicked his fingers, spreading your legs and letting him blow off steam. All truth be told, you hated being his personal call girl but you believed there was something so much more to it. You’d seen the way he’d glared at you as you unclipped your bra, eyes ablaze with passion. The way he touched you was no longer fuelled with lust, but was intricate and gentle — the tender touch of a man so eager to please such a dainty woman. Was he really beginning to fall for you, or is it wishful thinking? Seeing his chest rise and fall as he slept beside you kept you awake, speechless by the serenity of such a raucous man. Watching his lips contort as he laughed at your hopeless jokes, most likely out of pity, but sent a chill through you nonetheless. You were beginning to… grow rather fond of him.

Right on time, three firm knocks on the door made you jump, and you jolt slightly, scratching a wonky line into your chopping board. Before waiting for a response, Rupert entered the wooden door of your cottage and lowered himself into the kitchen. Leaning against the doorframe, he took a long pull of his cigarette, casting his carven face in an ashy amber glow. “Afternoon.” You chirp, pumping your speech with fake enthusiasm. Rupert replied only with a suave wink as he puffed once more on his cigarette. “I thought I’d cook first.” You respond to yourself, motioning to the variety of fresh vegetables laden across your kitchen countertop. “Oh darling, I haven’t come here for that.” Rupert chortled, his eyes following your every move. You felt your eyes subconsciously roll back to the back of your head.. you could call out his bullshit straight away.

“I’ve just been to look at a horse. Beautiful. Thoroughbred. And the woman advertising her was just gorg-“ He began, evidently trying to rile you. You felt your hand tighten around the large kitchen knife as you kept your eyes focused on your chopping board .. feeling your slices get more and more harsh by the second. “I don’t… want to hear it, Rupert.” You bark, gently placing down your knife and momentarily turning round to face him. You want him to see the jealousy flooding your eyes green. Rupert knew exactly what he was doing. Fighting back the most marvellous smirk, he lowered the cigarette from his mouth to add fuel to the fire, but decided against it.

Continuing to prepare your unromantic meal, your heart pounded furiously and the repetitive thump of blood coursing through your body blurred any other sound from your ear. “I wasn’t interested anyway, angel. She was all over me like a rash.” The chiselled man continued to coax vexation from you. Who the fuck does he think he is? Coming into your house and telling you about- “Fuck!” You bellowed. Your frantic chopping had gone rather wrong— the pure spiteful mess of Rupert’s words had riled you so heavily that you had miscalculated the direction of your knife and chopped straight into your finger. Blood crept into the natural layers of the onion, and began to seep into the wooden cutting board. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You scream again, applying pressure to your finger with the nearest tea towel, immediately soaking it. And of course, you feel your body weakening and your mind dizzying. You do NOT like blood. Springing into action, Rupert stood directly behind you, using his body as a human shield as you inevitably fell into him, just on the brink of fainting. “Are you okay, angel?” He whispered, taking control of the tea towel, squeezing it tight onto your finger and placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead. But the words he spoke sounded too heavy to make any coherence in your head and your vision grew thicker and hazier.

What felt like an eternity later, you awoke on your sofa, head propped up on a pillow and covered in thick, woollen blankets. “Rupert?” You croak, and look down at your finger. Perfectly cleaned up, and wrapped securely in bandages. The bitter smell of TCP filled your nose and made you wince. “I’ve disinfected it. I managed to save your finger, but the onions are a little worse for wear I’m afraid.” He mocked, and took a gentle seat beside you. You managed to push out a chuckle, and sat yourself up on your elbows. “You scared me, angel. Please be careful next time.” Rupert warned, waving a cautionary finger in your face. How dare he! “Are you serious, Rupert? The only reason I cut my finger in the first place is because you come in here, gloating about a woman being all over you. Shoving it into my face like I’m supposed to care…” You can feel fury coursing through your veins and attempt to speak in the most coarse tone possible, but you still feel incredibly weak and hunker back down half way through. Your usually supple porcelain skin has been drained of blood, and your limbs tremble under your weight.

“Shh, shh, angel. You need to relax.” Rupert speaks in a hushed tone — one so soft and gentle that it feels otherworldly from his lips. He caresses your mottled cheek with the back of his hand and just.. freezes. His cerulean orbs study you intensely, admiring every freckle. Every crinkle of your nose. Every misplaced hair on your head. “I didn’t come to have sex with you, you know, angel.” He murmurs, hand unmoving from your cheek. Your breath catches in your throat — too afraid to exhale. Even the sound of your breathing will be much too loud of an interruption. “Seeing you hurt like that… it was as though it hurt me too. All of a sudden, I feel this great wave of protection flow through me. I think of you constantly, you’ve infiltrated my mind. I can’t sleep. I just think of you.” Rupert blurted out, filled with unwavering confidence and an expression of adoration.

“Rupert…” You begin, but there are simply no words to say. This is what you have craved to hear all along. “I feel as though I cannot shake you. You are a part of my soul.” He whispers softly now, placing your hand on his chest to feel the rapid thumping of his heartbeat.

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” - Wuthering Heights

[yanderes-galore]

Romantic Gojo with a fellow Jujutsu sorcerer darling who gets hurt on a mission, making Gojo even more protective of them and now definitely convinced that he has to take them away? In a short story form please! At least, I HOPE this is enough of a plot for the short story.

We love a good overprotective Gojo short.

Near Death Experience

Yandere! Satoru Gojo Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Isolation, Kidnapping, Fear of loss, Overprotective behavior, Consensual turned forced relationship.

Everything he does for you is always for your own good.

Satoru Gojo, the world's strongest sorcerer, has quite a lot of responsibility. Not only is he meant to keep the Jujutsu Society together... but he is also supposed to be attentive to those he cares for. Or at least, that's how he feels about you.

Satoru knows you, his beloved partner, will never be on his level. Even though you yourself are a sorcerer... Satoru knows something will always overpower you. It's often a fear that nags at him.

Which is why your boyfriend never seems to leave your side.

Satoru made a promise to himself to always protect you. Any mission you go on, any training session you attend, your boyfriend is always there. To him... This is how he can properly care for you.

He's scared to leave you on your own.

Satoru always somehow knew something would happen to you someday. It was inevitable. No Jujutsu Sorcerer comes out unscathed during missions, not even him.

All it took was one mission that was too out of your league. All it took was one slip up, one he couldn't get there in time to correct.... Really, all it takes is one miscalculation...

To lose you.

Satoru hasn't felt dread in a long time. But the moment he saw you, laying on the ground, bleeding? The moment he saw that Curse standing over you?

Adrenaline kicked in and everything was a blur.

Satoru still can remember your screams and whimpers. You were in so much pain and Satoru couldn't help but feel it was all his fault. He looked away... No, took you on this mission in the first place...

He could only save you at the very last second.

The wait with Shoko was agonizing to Satoru. He visited your room in the medical bay every day. The only time he'd leave is for missions, even then, they were always quick with him.

Satoru vowed to never leave your side for long after that. Hell, even after you healed, Satoru knew you couldn't just go into missions again. Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer isn't everyone... It's a taxing responsibility...

You're clearly not cut out for it...

Satoru can't bear the thought of nearly losing you again.

Satoru knows, as your boyfriend, he should support you. He should never lie to you. He should allow you to keep your freedoms.

But protecting you feels more important in his eyes.

When you wake up in the medical bed, Satoru is all worried smiles. He gives you kisses and holds your hand. He tells you how worried he is, how he never left your side.

He tells you he's sorry... for everything.

Shoko tells him to lay off, to let you rest. You broke a few things and lost quite a bit of blood. Even now, days in the medical bay, you're still quite weak.

Yet your boyfriend never faltered in his affections. Even while you were in this state, he felt he needed to make things up to you. He needs to do better.

Which is why he told Shoko he'll be taking care of you once you're out.

"Just until you get better." Is what Satoru had told you when you were discharged. He was taking you off missions until you got better. Even better for him... He insisted on keeping you in a shared apartment instead of your dorm on campus.

Satoru was sure to be an attentive and caring boyfriend when you were healing. He kept you in bed most of the time and insisted you stop training so much. As your boyfriend... He should take care of everything.

He means everything.

At first, you find his actions caring. He buys you food, takes care of you, and always checks in. Your boyfriend is all smiles the entire time.

He loves you... you love him... things are good. You thank him for saving you. You even apologize for being so reckless.

Satoru merely brushes it off. He says it won't ever happen again under his watch. At the time, when he said this, you thought nothing of it. He's your caring, loving boyfriend who would protect you with his life.

It was cute until you found out your boyfriend's true intentions.

'Just until you get better' soon became much longer than you anticipated. Each time you tried to tell Satoru you were feeling better, he denied it. No matter what you say... It wasn't enough.

You originally were understanding. After all, your near death experience scared you both. It's only been a month and a half now... You'll be back to training in no time.

Yet more time passed... Months passed... and Satoru only ever kept you at home. Even when you were able to walk and train again, Satoru always had an excuse. You kept wanting to argue, but Satoru never budged.

"It's better this way." He'd tell you, smiling at you with a condescending tone.

"You won't be hurt if you just stay with me." Was his reasoning, as much as it pissed you off.

You understand, you were injured, but you got out okay, right? You can't leave this job now.... Yet according to Satoru...

You weren't a Jujutsu Sorcerer anymore.

He never kept those glowing blue eyes off you. He rarely even let you on campus. You didn't live at your dorm anymore... It was just you and Satoru in a shared apartment.

Nothing you said ever made him see reason. You felt as though you were being treated like a fragile child. Satoru wasn't your boyfriend anymore... He's your captor.

You two often got into fights once you realized Satoru was stripping you of your freedoms. Satoru merely wrote off your complaints as some sort of odd tantrum. You were livid with him.

Eventually, with tensions running high, you said something troublesome.

"We're breaking up."

You thought if you cut things off now, Satoru would stop and let you out of the apartment. Instead you got...

"You can't live without me. You aren't leaving me. Let's talk this out, alright? You need to understand I'm protecting you, baby...."

Satoru then continues to keep you in the apartment. Keeping you there makes him feel at ease. After all, there you're safe and away from the strong Curses he deals with...

Satoru doesn't regret taking you away. Before you even caught on, Satoru knew you'd have nowhere to go once he brought you into the apartment. You'd be stuck with him... under his protection.

You may hate him, neglect him of your love, but you'll get over it. Satoru knows you'll realize what he's doing is for the best. If you don't... you'll learn.

After all, where will you go without him now?

You have nowhere to go... which makes you forever his... no matter what... you're his to love and care for now.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sweet Like Candy 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor, Bucky Barnes (Professor AU)

Summary: the new school year proves to be hectic. (short!chubby! reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

You knock on the door of Professor Odinson’s door then check your smartwatch. You’ve been anxious all day about the meeting. After the quiz, he sent you a quick email saying he’d like to talk about it with you. You were the first done and you’re pretty sure you aced it! 

You wait and bounce on your feet. You tap the door again. You’re not that early. You hear the floor groan and stand straight the rippled glass darkens with a silhouette on the other side. 

The door opens and you beam a smile, “good afternoon, Professor--” you nearly choke on your tongue. “Oh, Professor Barnes.” 

He blinks at you, his face sharp with agitation, “Odinson isn’t here.” 

“Uh, oh, but I have an appointment,” you show your phone, “I can show you the email.” 

“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles. He backs up and drags his feet back to his desk, muttering, “...always late...” He sits heavily and sighs. “You can wait over there.” 

He waves towards Odinson’s empty desk and you peer between him and that. He grabs his coffee cup and growls as he looks inside. He sighs again and stands. 

You enter, eager to be out of his way, and he strides out the door with another grunt. You sway and look around. You feel like an intruder. Still, you can’t just leave. Odinson will be here soon. 

You sit in the velvet chair across from his desk and swing your feet. You wiggle impatiently and admire the ornaments on his desk. There’s some runes and a little hammer. 

The smell of coffee wafts in with the other professor. Barnes sits down and takes a long draw from his mug. He sets it down with a clink. The tension coils like a boa constrictor, tightening your throat and spine. 

You turn your phone up and bow your head. You unlock it. Won’t be much longer, you know it. 

You flick through with your thumb and glaze over as you watch the short videos. You swipe up and up and up. You giggle mindlessly as a kitten attacks a stuffed rabbit. Barnes exhales heavily. 

“Rots your brain...” he remarks dryly. 

“Hm?” You look at him over your shoulder. 

“All those dumb apps. You’re like a robot, sitting there, laughing at those stupid things,” he sneers. 

“I... It’s not dumb,” you argue and turn away from him. “Sorry, I’ll be quiet.” 

“And sit still. You’re distracting.” 

You frown and watch the kitten again. Why is he so grumpy? You didn’t do anything. His fingers hit his keys hard and you grow irritated at his unspoken anger. Odinson is the one that’s late. 

“Here,” you stand and march over to his desk, “maybe the stupid video will cheer you up.” 

You shove your phone next to his monitor and he ignores it. You roll your eyes. “Come on, it’s a kitty! Everyone loves kitties.” 

He shakes his head, focusing on his screen. You push the phone closer. He catches your hand and squeezes. His gaze flits over to your phone. He watches it without reaction. 

“Kittens grow up to be cats. A responsibility,” he lets you go. “Something I’m sure you don’t understand.” 

You furrow your nose, “I’m being nice. You don’t have to be... not nice.” 

“I’m working.” He insists. 

You have no argument for that. You shrug and go back to the chair. You stare at the wall behind Odinson’s desk and the degree mounted there. 

“Ah, apologies,” a storm blusters through the door in the form of Professor Odinson. “There is some event on campus and I was caught up.” 

“Professor,” you stand politely. 

“Yes, yes, I’m here,” he hurries to his desk and drops his bag. “Apologies, again. Oof, it smells like coffee. I could use a cup.” He smiles and stills himself, “and how are you?” 

“Good, Professor.” 

“A poor look to be late,” he chides himself and sits. He puts his bag in his lap and flips it open. “I do hope Professor Barnes was adequate company during your wait.” 

Barnes grumbles. You don’t say a word. Odinson sifts through his bag. 

“If you would prefer privacy, we might find an empty room,” he suggests as he pulls out a cluster of stapled papers. You recognise the sparkly gel pen on it. 

“No, I’m okay,” you insist. 

“Mm, right,” he sets his bag on the floor and rolls his chair closer to the desk. “Well, with your consent, I shall proceed.” He smooths the paper. That’s when you see the red pen all over it. You show your teeth. Maybe it would have been a better idea to be alone. 

“It is only the first quiz, so early on,” he begins. “Yet, I would hate for the rest to go... worse.” He clears his throat and hands you the pages. “I have posted it on the course page but there will be extra review sessions for those who feel they need them. Learning a new language can be difficult.” 

You cringe at the 20% at the top of the page. You’ve never done so poorly in your life. You’re a straight C type of girl. 

“Oh,” you deflate. Once more, you were over confident. You really felt good about that and oh gosh, you’re so embarrassed. “Thanks, I’ll go...” you agree as you stare at the paper. “I’m sorry, I really studied.” 

“Like I said, new language,” he comforts. “I just wanted to offer you any extra support you feel you might need. I have an open door policy--” 

Barnes snorts behind you. You wince. 

“Thank you, Professor, that’s really nice,” you gulp and clutch your fuzzy purse. “I should... go. I... I have to do a few things before my next class.” 

“Right, yes, as you will. Again, I apologise for keeping you waiting,” he says. 

“Yeah,” your voice cracks even as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “It’s no problem.” 

You make yourself smile and stand. You turn and your eyes meet Barnes. He’s watching you. He doesn’t shy away as your cheek twitches. He looks almost amused. 

“Maybe some more kitten videos might help with studying,” he comments. 

“Eh?” Odinson utters. 

“Maybe,” you agree glumly and your lips tug down. “Sorry to bother. Both of you.” 

You turn and quickly flee the office. For as kind as Odinson was about your unabashed failure, Barnes was entirely cruel. You tried so hard and he could just grin mockingly. You don’t know what you did to make him so mean. 

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Part 10

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied abuse, Implied violence. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 9 -- Part 11

Series Masterlist

As you calm down, Jake waits until you tell him to before he lets you go. He can't imagine how much you might need this so he'll hold you for as long as you want.

You sniffle and shake your head as you gently push away from him. "I'm sorry about that," you splutter.

"No need to apologize," he assures. "It's been a really crazy couple of days. Probably a lot longer than that for you."

"I should get to work on the dishes." You try to move past him but he holds out his arm.

"I said I'd do the dishes," he reminds you. "Not only did you cook breakfast, you cooked a lot more food than you should have. The least I can do is help out with the clean up."

"You had to actually talk to them," you quietly argue. "I just sat and refilled drinks."

"You also really helped me out, reassured me when I was feeling lost," he gently countered. "Please let me do this for you?"

It takes you a minute of internal waffling before you tell him, "okay. And thank you."

As you start tearing up again Jake is quick to ask, "are you okay? What's wrong? Do you need another hug? Are you hurt?"

"I'm just...I'm just not...not used to such kindness," you confess as you wipe the tears away.

"Doing the dishes for you is more than you're used to?" You nod and Jake feels a renewed wave of anger at your family. "Would...would it help if you supervised my cleaning? Make sure I'm not cleaning your cast iron by putting it in the dishwasher?" Your eyes go wide and you gasp, but he's quick to smile and reassure you that he would never do that. "It's one of the few cleaning things I will forever know, if only because it came up in a trivia night one time."

The giggle escapes before you even knew it was forming. You slap your hand over your mouth, embarrassed but Jake's eyes are lit up. Everything in his body language tells you he's not angry or offended at your outburst, but happy about it.

"If you want me to ignore that, I will," he comments. "But I would be happy to acknowledge it!" He looks at you like an excited puppy eager for praise and you can't help but continue giggling from behind your hand. He starts shaking with excitement but he's not saying or doing anything because you haven't said if you want it acknowledged. Unfortunately that's just making your fit more uncontrollable.

You remove your hand and gasp between fits, "it's okay. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm laughing this much. I'm sorry."

Jake lightly bounces as he assures you, "it's okay! There's nothing to apologize for! Sometimes a thing just tickles your fancy. It could also be a response to all the stress you've been through. When was the last time you had a really good cry? Or a really good laugh?"

"It has been a long time," you sigh, keeping your head down as you finally get your laughing under control.

"So, would you be willing to supervise me in the kitchen?"

"That sounds nice," you nod.

"And you promise to correct me if I do something wrong? Or before I do something wrong?" You hesitate at that. "I promise I don't want to upset you. I just...we're going to be going to a lot of parties soon. I'll have no idea what I'm doing. I'm going to need your help." You look up at him, eyes a mix of emotions. "I...I get the impression you're not...you don't correct others." You lower your face in shame. "Hey, it's not...I get why. I really do! It's not a judgment, I promise!" Jake's tone becomes a little more frantic, but no less pleading, soft. "And I'm gonna need your help to not make an ass of myself at these parties. That includes correcting me or stopping me before I do something stupid. The kitchen supervision could be a good way to practice that for us?"

"That...that makes sense," you agree. "I promise to try?"

Jake smiles, "thank you so much, Sharky!"

"Sharky?"

"Sorry, I'm used to friends with nicknames," he quickly explains. "And, I figured you...you like sharks so much you literally studied them...I swear it sounded better in my head." His face looks chagrined as he rubs his hand on the back of his head.

"I...I've never really had a nickname before," you tell him. "I kinda did when I was studying, but it was definitely derogatory." Jake's eyes turn sad. "Derogatory regarding my background. No matter how much work I did, I was still called 'Princess' because of my family." You shake your head to dispel the memory. "But 'Sharky' sounds a lot nicer." You give him a soft smile that has Jake's heart fluttering.

As the dishes get loaded into the dishwasher and the others await the required handwashing, you decide to ask Jake about something that's been bothering you.

"Your father," you hesitate, knowing it's a sensitive topic. "He mentioned something about your niece?"

Jake sighs, the smile on his face dropping. "You remember my sister was engaged to Travis?"

"Of course."

"I got her out of it by, essentially, hiding her far away from here. She met someone, fell in love, and they had a daughter." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. "She's only 8 years old," he continues. "But she's super stubborn, like her mother. Smart, like her father. And she's damn good at soccer, minus some bad calls from a ref."

You smile a little at that. It's very clear he cares a lot for her.

"But my parents found out about her," he continues. "They hinted that they know where she and Sarah live and they flat out told me that, unless I agreed to marry you, to be the obedient son they always wanted, they were going to marry her off to your brother."

You gasp at that. You knew your parents were determined to solidify power and position by combining the families but you didn't think they would go so far! And to your brother, who would be twice her age upon marrying her! Your blood freezes as you think of how badly he'd hurt her.

"Hey, Sharky? You okay?"

Jake's voice breaks through the bad memories, "sorry. I just...I'm happy to help you keep her safe."

"Thank you for that."

Part 9 -- Part 11

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @irishhappiness

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[robinbuckleyluvr]

⊹˚˖⁺ our childhood is gone - steve harrington

masterlist | requests

pairing: steve harrington x platonic fem!reader

summary: reader and steve end tied up in the secret russian base, where the reader turns to anger and finally confronts steve after he threw out their friendship just for popularity.

warnings: none

notes: i love angst long live angst

word count: 864

⸻⊱༺ 

When she first walked into her new job and saw Steve Harrington, she could not believe it. How could Steve, the most entitled and pretentious guy at Hawkins, end up with a crappy job at an ice cream parlor?

A bit hypocritical to say, seeing as though she had the same job. 

They exchanged a polite ‘Hello’ that first day, but no words were spoken. There was no acknowledgement of their past, of their friendship they once cherished, ever since they were 9 years old. High school had completely turned Steve into a jerk, and she resented him for it. Him and his ‘friends’ would stare and laugh when she’d walk by, just like they did with anyone they deemed ‘uncool’.

What hurt most, was making eye contact with him.

She never once saw an apologetic look from him. Not then, not now, not ever.

Scoops was a dead-end too, as she pretended not to know him, and he did the same.

How they ended up in an underground Russian base, tied to chairs sitting back-to-back with each other, was a question neither could answer. They sat in silence, waiting and fearing whoever was due to come in the room to question them.

“So…” Steve began, attempting to light up the dreary mood.

“So what?” Y/N snapped. Not a single bone in her wanting to be kind to him.

“I just, you know… quite the situation we’re in here.”

“Cut the shit, Harrington. Don’t act like you want to make small talk with me right now.”

Steve sat quiet. They both did for a few minutes. Taking in the gravity of the situation they faced, and the uncomfortable silence that filled the room.

“You know,” Y/N laughed, sarcasm lacing her words, “You really are the same person you were back in high school. When I first saw you here… I cannot believe I really thought you’d changed. But of course, you didn’t. You’re still the same douchebag you used to be… pretending not to know me. You’re an ass.”

Steve was at a loss for words, “Oh, don’t act like you’re a saint,” He snapped, “You ignored me too. I guess you’re a douche too, then.”

“It takes one to know one. I wasn’t the one who went prancing around to the ‘cool’ kids as soon as we entered high school just because I wanted to be ‘someone’.”

“At least I was someone.”

“Harrington, I think you’ll be happy to know, making fun of people doesn’t make you ‘someone’. It just makes you an asshole.” She shot back.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” He muttered under his breath.

“You are fucking unbelievable.”

He rolled his eyes in response, “For the love of God, I’m sorry, okay?” 

“You don’t even know what to be sorry for, Harrington.” She hissed, “A half-assed apology won’t get you anywhere after the hell you made me go through these past 3 years. You know, when I first started high school, I foolishly thought ‘How cool! I have my awesome, cool, friend, Steve Harrington in the grade above me! What could go wrong?’”

Steve laughed, “You did not say that–”

“Of course not, asshole, I was being sarcastic.” She sighed, “I still did not think you and your fucking ‘friends’ would make it hell to walk through those halls. Never had a single day of peace. If you weren’t making fun of the books I carried, it was the way I walked. Or the way I wore my hair. How does doing that to so many people not haunt you, Steve?”

He stared at the floor. His expression dropping with each word she spoke, hurt and sarcasm never leaving her voice.

“Do you not regret it, Harrington?”

They both reflected on the words exchanged, the minutes dragging out before they spoke again. Their minds raced and dwelled in the hurt and regret filling the air.

“I do. I never thought it was going to go that way. I never thought…” He paused, “I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I sat with them on my first day. And suddenly I was part of it, I finally… belonged somewhere. I started playing basketball with them, and before I knew it, I was in too deep. I never planned to make fun of people in the halls, but when you stand there with them, careful not to laugh too loud and… they turn to you and wait for you to make a comment, you just do. ”

“Please,” She huffed, “You’re not getting any pity from me with that fuck-ass story. You threw away years of friendship to make fun of people and shoot balls up at the ceiling? Fuck you.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve responded quietly. “You’re right. I was a coward, an asshole, and a douche. Everything you said,” He sighed, “You are correct about it all. I hurt a lot of people, and I do wish I could un-do that damage. I wish I hadn’t thrown our friendship away either.”

“You were my best friend,” She spoke, her voice breaking, “I wanted to believe in the 9 year old Steve I once met. But you made me feel invisible.”

[weaponsdrawn]

HI i just remembered to respond to this FUCK ok so

I MASSIVELY AGREE with the binjpipe takes. i think ETS was good/iconic if only because it was so like. JARRING in a good way. but it was so lighting in a bottle tbh, and like u said it isnt rlly good horror. only rlly shocking if ur actually attached to cookie, which ppl are. cookie gets replaced by an AI tried to be ETS all over again, and it wasnt, and it kinda rlly showed, like you said, how they shine best with comedy. also I FULLY AGREE. fuck, im pretty sure its one of the reasons ive just grown tired of jackbox by now, both me and my gf (we met thru shared jackbox love), its bc every time binjpipe happened we were just like "THIS SHIT AGAIN?????" like it just made any sort of investment in it or hopes of cookie getting better just. feel so fucking moot. why bother getting invested if its just constantly going to get dragged back up. the "evil streaming service" joke is dead. its BEYOND dead. we havent even heard of the binjlady anymore. its lost any sort of omnious buildup. to me binjpipe's appeal was that it clearly wasnt going to last long. it was a nightmare that was just going to keep on ramping up until it crashed and burned horrendously, and fuck thats SO cool to consider and write about. but they keep dragging it out, and now its just sad. its boring. fucking. selling adult films?? give me a break.

ok about the party packs, HONESTLY SAME. like idk the writing is what really gets me about it tbh. i guess theyre good party games (tho i can get bored really fast, save for roomerang, and even so thats mostly bc of the goofyness of the responses), but YEAH youre so right. like idk if its because theyre ALSO doing the international translations but ithink it goes with the fact that the hosts severely lack character. when its like for some games, its ok if they dont have character (quixort), but its like that means theres A BALANCE. pack 8, ok? games like job job and weapons drawn, that CALLS for the hosts having character because its putting you in a situation WHERE the host is an active part of that situation. its like "wow im really in funny office" or "wow im really doing a murder!!!" right now, yknow? Push the Button, DODE was her own character and had noteworthy quips and she was a vital part of the games story/framing device! todd is iconic bc hes such a chill internet guy and then he sends you to hell! felicia is all morbidly romantic bc youre on a MONSTER DATING SHOW. a lot of the games stand out BECAUSE of the unique situations ur in that envoke unique prompts/unique gameplay, meanwhile something like fixytext? i dont know SHIT about the host. and its kind of a shame that the cannon jackbox lesbian host we have is SO FUCKING BORING GOD. most i can get is that shes introverted, but i gen cant tell if its genuine, if its some kind of "akward bacon unicorn moment! #millenial" type shit, what the fuck even really IS Fixytext at the end of the day. what makes it more than google docs shitposting simulator. its such a fucking shame, esp for the TENTH PACK. like god maybe they rlly do need to take a hiatus bc the change in. writing quality is. idk it just didnt help my dropping fixtation i'll say that.

also wait FR????? JESUS CHRIST thats actually a shame, i wanted to try and play that game!!! (namely bc funny objectum) and like. the ONE naughty pack exclusive host and we get NOTHING about her. i dont even like the fucking conch shell design im sorry. jackbox crew yall are great but how in this green unholy earth do you expect ppl to draw and remember your designs when your hosts are so. flat. fuck, mayonnaise, fucking M BUBZ, is more memorable than nickolas kranrker whatever and dr nanners and jerri, i cant tell you a SINGLE thing about jerri tbh. its such a shame. i want to love these guys i really do but theres nothing that endears them to me.

tbh if they end up not doing anything for ydkj it'll be funny in a kinda sad way tbh. on the one hand it'd BE nice on the other hand yeah its been nothing since full stream, eh. could they even do a YDKJ anymore? i remember once upon a time there was all this hype/discussion of a "ride 2" where the only real roadblock was that buzz's VA has well moved on from voice acting i think, but ppl had ideas for giving him a new voice, maybe even making it a transgender reason, all this stuff. this was like a couple of years back. but its like god i'd be shocked if they even remember guy exists at this point. or nate. hes sorta got a chance given his VA is literally a core part of the crew.

also i getcha. glad i could offer a space to let ya vent like that lawl

roomerang completely fucking fumbled with giving rue any sort of character we could've had a fun host we could've had that snark we could've had ANYTHING to match the sheer amount of swag in her design but we got BASICALLY NOTHING/very vague hints of character ("I'm beside myself... and I look good!" And "dramaaaa!!! :3") which is CRUMBS compared to even the most one note hosts like glargan o'toe or civic doodle's hosts and as petty as it sounds it's kinda the reason I fell out of love with current jackbox </3

.

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

hi! what do you think are the best/most tolerable episodes in season 4 of community? it’s widely regarded as the worst season and I never know which episodes to watch each time I go through a community rewatch binge lol. so, I figured I would consult the encyclopedia! (this is my first time using the ask feature so I apologize if I am not using it correctly)

heyo! this is a great question. I actually have an abbreviated season 4 watchlist that cuts out the worst episodes (in my opinion), while staying comprehensible and making sure you're still able to follow the season's overarching plots:

4x01: history 101

4x03: conventions of space and time*

4x05: cooperative escapism in familial relations*

4x06: advanced documentary filmmaking

4x08: herstory of dance

4x11: basic human anatomy*

4x12: heroic origins*

4x13: advanced introduction to finality

the episodes with asterisks* are the ones I actually really enjoy watching. the others on the list are pretty mid, but are, in my opinion, important enough to the overarching plot and character development to be worth watching. when I'm showing other people season 4 for the first time, I adhere to this watchlist lol.

I’m going to do some (hopefully quick) explanations of how I came up with this list, but you don't have to read it if you don't want to lol:

✅ history 101: it's the first episode of the season, so it really does set the tone and establish some important details (jeff wants to graduate early, troy and britta are dating, this is their last year at greendale, etc.) as with most of season 4, the weirdness seems really contrived and unnatural, but it does have its moments of being genuinely funny. it's also a pretty abed-centric episode, which is always a bonus lol

❌ paranormal parentage: I don’t hate this episode, but it's just kind of boring and doesn't really add anything to the season. I love megan ganz but... yeah. a lot of the jokes seem forced, and there's way too much pierce for my liking. there are a couple good one liners ("you should probably tell your boyfriend's boyfriend" "I remember when this show was about community college") and it does help set up jeff finally contacting his dad, but imo it doesn't quite make the episode worth watching

✅ conventions of space and time: I’ve heard that some people hate this episode? couldn't be me. way too much trobed for me to hate it lmao. there is a lot of jeffannie in it too, but that resolves with the conclusion that annie is just a romantic who loves to fantasize, and doesn't actually have real feelings for jeff. it actually fuels my lesbiannie agenda tbh, because she is evidently just in love with the idea of a man but doesn't actually put that into practice. but that's another post lmao. we have some great one-liners, we have britta helping troy through his jealousy, we have "troy will find me :)" we have some more inspector spacetime lore, etc etc. I love this episode and rewatch it frequently.

❌ alternative history of the german invasion: for me, this episode has almost zero redeeming qualities. the jokes are lame, I hate professor cornwallis, there is so much discontinuity, it has zero importance in the bigger picture of the season and the show, it's out of character, etc. the one thing I like is the end tag.

✅ cooperative escapism in familial relations: this is a big one for me. I never see people talking about it, but to me this episode is one of season 4's saviors. we have HUGE jeff development, jeffbritta moments, some much needed shirley screentime and development, some great jokes ("-to eat garbage dip WHY DID I HAVE TO GO THIRD), classic trobedison shenanigans, and the shawshank redemption homage is very funny to me. plus! adam devine cameo! I like this episode more every time I watch it. unsung hero fr.

✅ advanced documentary filmmaking: okay so I won’t lie, I fucking HATE the changnesia arc. I think it is so incredibly stupid and uncreative. there are a million different and better ways they could have brought him back. but, this episode is just too important in the season's development to skip. and, honestly, if I ignore the whole premise, there are a lot of funny bits and jokes in this one. troy constantly smiling at the camera (read: smiling at abed), troy and annie being the silliest ever, jeff's trust issues, and ken jeong is truly very funny, I just hate this arc so much. but ultimately it's too important to cut. imo.

❌ economics of marine biology: I basically feel the same about this one as I do about alternative history of the german invasion. it's boring, the premise is stupid, it's out of character, it's unfunny, the guest character is lame, and it's pointless to the overall plot. abed and the delta cubes is a little bit funny? and I guess you could argue that the jeff and pierce development is important? but I’d refute that very quickly. it's pierce, who cares. not. worth. it.

✅ herstory of dance: this episode is honestly the upper end of mid, but it has enough good jokes and development to make it worth it. it is also Very abed-centric, which we've established is always a plus imo, and his whole bit with going on two dates at once is very in character. he also meets rachel, who comes back in season 5, so that's important. it also has some great jeff & britta development!!! which is sort of few and far between in the later seasons!!! yippee!!!

❌ intro to felt surrogacy: tied for my least favorite community episode of all time. it's clear they tried to do something similar to what they did with abed's uncontrollable christmas, but it is so incredibly contrived that it is physically painful to watch. I hate the puppets. the hot air balloon story is so stupid and out of character. the songs are bad. how dare they sully the legacy of my third favorite episode (lmao). the only redeeming qualities are troy as a whole (all of his lines are good, and that moment when he pretends his puppet is falling asleep is very funny), and the fact that pierce is not physically in it. but those do not make up for how horrific the rest of it is. in my opinion. haha.

❌ intro to knots: once again! Tied For My Least Favorite Community Episode! they're right next to each other, how convenient. and again: bad jokes, bad premise, I fucking hate professor cornwallis, the changnesia shit is back, the plot is ALL over the place, there is little to no actual character development, the dialogue just goes in circles, and it ends with a random litter of kittens that are never mentioned again??? I guess the only mildly important thing is the end tag with the evil study group, which comes back during the season finale. but yeah. not worth it. disgusting.

✅ basic human anatomy: and here we have a HUGE jump from the last one. this is my favorite season 4 episode, and is probably in my top 15 from the entire show. I could talk about this episode for hours. the troy development alone is so so so good and important. add abed into the mix and Oh Boy!!! britta is great in this one, jeff and the dean's whole thing is so fucking funny, shirley and annie competing against leonard for valedictorian on a technicality is very in character and silly, danny and donald's acting in this one is commendable, etc etc etc. there really isn't much, if anything, I dislike about this episode. jim rash being the credited writer makes me love him even more. legendary. outstanding.

✅ heroic origins: I actually really like this episode. it does still have that sort of unnatural and off-putting vibe that the majority of season 4 has, but I think it holds up. it's in character, it has some great jokes and one-liners, and although it does have its moments of discontinuity, it does a surprisingly good job of staying compliant with what has already been established. certainly much better than alternative history of the german invasion. abed's whole bit with the star wars prequels makes me laugh, the annie's boobs lore, footage of annie and troy in high school (surprisingly well done if you ignore the discontinuity of troy's injury), etc. it's also massively important for the overarching season plot, and we finally get to the conclusion of the stupid changnesia arc. I could go on and on, there's just a ton of really cool callbacks (including one to the pilot, which I only noticed a few months ago and am obsessed with), and I just. wasn't expecting this one to work out as well as it did. pleasantly surprised, all in all.

✅ advanced introduction to finality: this one is not great tbh, but it's too important plot-wise to skip. and, I mean, it does have some good moments. abed immediately recognizing evil jeff, the whole thing being in jeff's head a la remedial chaos all being in abed's head (insert something about how this being yet another demonstration of how fundamentally jeff and abed understand each other, which I could expand way more on but won't in this particular post), season 2 of the cape, "one of us is out of bullets" "is it you" "...yeah" "why would you tell me that," and more. overall, yeah, worth watching imo.

I do also want to say that I think season 4 is a bit overhated. I do agree that it is the worst season, I think most of us can agree that that is an objective truth, but it does have its moments and I do get slightly frustrated when people write the entire season off.

I’m also happy to hear anyone else's opinions on what you think is/isn't worth watching in season 4, especially if you really strongly disagree with me. I’m curious to what your reasoning is lmao.

okay! this is definitely way more elaboration than you needed, but I hope this was helpful 💯💯💯

[star2stop]

Mayhaps Soul in one of these? :0/nf

-moss

OMG HI MOSS!!!! sorry if it took me literal MONTHS to get to this ToT fjdhsfhsdkg heres soul wearing both fits cuz i think they r both pretty :]

[sketchingstars03]

aghfdsfd sry about the infodumping but i havr to get tgis out of my head hc that ink has a kind of a fixation on naming?? him naming his brush ,the doodlesphere and giving people nicknames kinda?? something something about his abandoned AU not havign a name... something about his last words being not watnting to b forgotten. wanting to be someone.. somethin about names n identity sjhjgf also uhm i just learned that it's actually like. confirmed that he's the one who put all those buckets in the doodlesphere. and also ink doesn't consider himself a Sans bc of his lack of a universe. uh mirror room. apparently its implied that the reason he doesnt liek that room is bc. Ink couldnt tell that they're the original or just one of the many reflections/imposters. since he's the only Ink who doesnt have a soul and doesnt remember jack shit ab his past.(kinda outdated but makes sense. that room was made official around that time where the fact that ink not having a soul is considered vry niche info iirc? somewhere around early 2017)

no Anon you’re onto something with the naming thing.

I think it’s fascinating that Ink, should this be true (which it seems very plausible to me), extends this need to be someone, to have an identity, to others. In a similar way to how they might subconsciously extend that feeling of no universe deserving to be left behind, in that both stem from themself, yet he can’t help but fulfil that desire through other people. Really shines a light on the side of Ink that “isn’t completely selfish”, to put it in words I remember from one post by Comyet.

I always had a feeling, like a headcanon, that Ink would feel separated from his Sans identity, or, well it would probably be more like a role or title to him, rather than a name or someone he is. They left “Sans” behind with _____tale (something he doesn’t even remember). Though, it’s interesting that he still carries over some sans-like traits, like puns/pranks (though more frequent and intense pranks than a regular Sans would pull), and the creation of their own personal Gaster Blaster companion and forming bones out of ink. And there was the sans-like sweater in their old design (something I like to think they still hold on to, even if he doesn’t wear it anymore)

I should check Comyet’s blog to see that lmao guess it probably wasn’t purely just a hc after all.

THE PART ABOUT THE MIRROR ROOM IS FASCINATING THOUGH! Now that you mention it I think I remember a post like that, again looks like I need another trip through the Inkechos tag 😅. But still!! I wonder how Ink would feel about the mirror room now, if his dislike was based around how all the other “hims” had souls and he didn’t, now that that’s changed and it’s actually the Inks with souls who are the outliers (shout out to FTFO!Ink). Would they take joy in the fact that they’re not alone? Or would it still feel, weird and uncomfortable somehow? Perhaps serving as another reminder of his emptiness deep down, and so they still avoid it even though the circumstances in the fandom have changed. I know that whenever I RP my version of Ink meeting other variants, he’s always very interested to see new versions of himself, so maybe it would just be like that! Who knows! Well, Comyet does, but I’m not her 😅.

Either way thank you so much for this thought-provoking ask, Anon! I’m always happy to discuss my favourite chaotic-neutral-artist-skeleton guy like this!

[todayisafridaynight]

Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.

i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon

[junonreactor]

yaay

[morphestic]

been too long since i offered a song!!! another off the grid dazai one bc i found another one BUT day traitor by younger hunger

I'm not gonna lie, I thought of beastzai while reading the lyrics

I can change my life I can turn back time Like Granger did -> (harry potter PoA reference RAAHH) Sit back and watch me spin

but instead of changing his life, Dazai is trying to change save Odasaku's and instead of turning back time, he's creating new universes.

The older that I get The less it all makes sense Is that just me? Is it my simulation Or just another person's memory Of someone who looked like me

'the less it all makes sense' -> he must have been so tired trying to save Oda repeatedly but failing. There had to have been a point where he wondered if it was even possible, right?

I wouldn't actually know though, I could be very wrong.

Anyway! On to off the grid Dazai!! Yes! I should have started with that first

You are yesterday Confidence, my confidence is fake When I'm Losing my mind trying to stay safe

you are yesterday -> 'you' could be Odasaku or mafia him. I think either could be fitting.

my confidence is fake -> I really like to think Dazai sometimes bluffs and bullshits through certain strategies, he can't always be right. Definitely has to have panicked once or twice but never shows it outwardly. His confidence is fake, a facade he always puts on.

Losing my mind trying to stay safe -> The challenge it must have been for Dazai to keep himself healthy (enough, and I say this because I know he did the bare minimum) and alive just to fulfill Odasaku's promise. Recovery, even if it's just a little, is hard.

Box out my teenage bedroom I found the note you wrote to me The only proof I have It happened not just in a dream

What happened to the pictures Dazai took of the trio in bar Lupin? I'm pretty sure he has them, somewhere. Maybe one of the only things he took with him when he left the mafia, his only way of remembering Oda's face. And he most definitely stared at them during long nights while he was under the radar.

Poor guy, those must've been tough years. I need Asagiri to drop a short novel of Dazai's time under the radar, there's no way he just sat there and did nothing for two years.

[winterinthetardis]

Hi! Where is your queue tag from?

Hi! My queue tag "I'm still just a queue. No touch." is a play off of a line from Doctor Who, s2e13 Doomsday, where the Doctor projects himself to Bad Wolf Bay to say goodbye to Rose:

This gif is from this amazing gifset, btw. It has the entire scene!!

[nem0-nee]

YO YO YO WHATS UP FELLOW GAMER >:)

I just wanted to ask Stephanie what thinks of my ramshackle prefect ellis :D

I honestly feel like they would be besties but that’s just me :)

AYO WASSUP!! First of all, oml I'm sorry this took AGES, I was busy with some school and real life stuff (TT)

Stephanie on Ellis

Ellis is no exception from Stephanie's toomfoolery with the bestie hunt. My take is that Stephanie really wanted to befriend her because of how much keychains she has. As a keychain/merch connoisseur herself, she'd love to know what Ellis has!

Hdoshs yes this is exactly why this took me centuries to answer this

Anyway, Stephanie really likes being around Ellis! They're like two peas in a pod (twinsies even) due to their similarity in nature. She's particularly impressed by how Ellis can sew and maybe even make her own clothes. Stephanie isn't particularly good at sewing, evident by how she doesn't even know how to do a backstitch.

Other than that, Steph would definitely help Ellis out when it comes to making new friends and socializing in general. I mean, she does have a dedicated bestie list, so she's definitely an expert...?

And hear me out about this. If Ellis is down for it, she and Stephanie can go on a romance drama/movie marathon. Steph is a sucker for romance dramas (ahem kdramas ahem), and it'd be great to have someone squeal and cry with. Nobody understands the pain of seeing the leads not end up together at the end because one of them died or something 💀

There's a lot I'd love to ramble about, but I don't want to bore you with an essay. Maybe I'll make some doodles of them later on, we'll just have to see (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

[argxntxus]

continued from here

@muppeteyes1001

The situation diffused, Xalroc breathed out a loud, audible sigh and placed his hand on his chest in relief. That could’ve gone farther south, he thought, and though he was up and ready to act as soon as things would have, he preferred not to attract any more unwanted attention more than they had at that moment. Though he knew Kitt to be quite capable, he couldn’t help himself. It was after all, much better to be prepared than to regret not doing so if things went from bad to worse. The light shimmering under the blanket of thick snow also faded, though prying eyes noted the snow-laden street surface shimmer silver for a couple of seconds. When push came to shove, subtlety wasn’t exactly a strong suit of his.

He sauntered slowly towards Kitt, bags in tow, careful not to get the attention of the two boys, whom he thought Kitt seemed quite familiar with. Having realized that, he kept his guard up. The tension might’ve dissipated, yes, but they still placed themselves in the center of attention regardless. As soon as the boys went on their way, the ebon-haired man suddenly, but gently placed his free arm round her shoulders.

“I would think it is high time to move on, Kitt. I rather worry that more people might flock here given that the fellow you have rebuked was someone of importance.” He admonished her. “I trust you, but I do not trust the people around you well enough, I am afraid. I hope you would understand, love.”

Source knows what they would do if people caught wind of Kitt’s return; not only would they be in quite the pickle, but Xalroc would more than likely rid himself of his inhibitions for his belle’s sake. There was no way he’d allow the authorities to apprehend her and face that awful guardian of hers again.

Softly, he coaxed her to keep walking, as briskly as she could without garnering further attention, to what he thought was the road leading downtown.

“Kitt, dear, may I ask, how did you know that person was a bank chairman? And those boys… You seem to be quite familiar with them. Are they friends of yours?”

A number of questions swam through his head, wanting to ask Kitt as calmly as he could, simultaneously hoping and praying to the Source they weren’t too visible enough to be recognized.

-

Meanwhile…

“Dear,” a woman walking alongside her husband to the opposite direction suddenly piped up, “I know you I can’t help but think about what I just saw earlier… I could’ve sworn the snow was glowing silver!” she said with a gasp.

Her husband sighed, hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this, “Yes, I saw it too. But what good is it to wonder? That must’ve been one of the emporium’s flashy displays-“

“You know that’s not true, Harold. They never did a trick of that sort before. It sure seemed something… magical to me. And that woman what told off that bank manager, why is her face covered like that? It’s like she’s got something to hide under that scarf and hat…”

“Lillian, you’ve got to cut back on the eggnog. Yes, it’s the holiday season and yes, it’s the time for eggnogs, but it’s certainly got you seeing things.”

The woman stopped in her tracks.

“I’m sober, Harold. I don’t drink in the day, at least not more than a glass!”