#tagging so you can avoid like the plague if you don't want to read that

[raven-cincaide]

Post-Canon! Megumi is a university student. His friends think he needs a break from all the curses and fighting so he can finally heal. Yuji says its a chance for Megumi to find the person who'll Megumi want to live for. Nobara says that even if he doesn't find anyone, they've already sacrificed so much; they need some kind of backup plan in case they ever need to leave the front lines. In truth, Yuji and Nobara just want to spend their youth exploring normal human things, and Megumi honestly can’t fault them. He doesn’t understand it but he doesn’t want to be left behind. So he tags along because.. well.. what else is he supposed to do?

Post-Canon! Megumi doesn’t know what to study. So he picks up a little bit of everything. He creates a schedule that fits his self-applied expectations and overachieving tendencies, going well above and beyond full-time studies. He keeps his mind occupied so he doesn't have to think about how hard it is to blend in, make new friends, and be human. (Un)fortunately, Yuji and Nobara don't let him avoid the campus life forever. 

Post-Canon! Megumi builds a routine he finds satisfactory which includes studying, gym, late night parties and nerdy book clubs. Hell he picks up anything that makes him forget about curses and being a sorcerer. He promised himself he would be 'normal' while at uni and he promised his friends. University life may not be Megumi's calling but he wasn't about to let his friends down. So he does everything to avoid things that would tempt him back.  

Post-Canon! Megumi notices you the second you enter one of his classes. He can tell you are a sorcerer and instantly determines he doesn't want anything to do with you. He tries to make himself invisible, hunched down, reading a book. Despite his closed body language, his eyes flicker over to you occasionally, although he quickly catches himself and goes straight back to reading. 

Post-Canon! Megumi is surprised when you approach his desk- one of the few remaining seats near the front. How you politely ask if you can sit beside him even though he doesn’t own the seat makes him unsure, fascinated, yet flustered. “Sure”, he replies, then a second later, grabs his bag, stands, and walks out of the class minutes. He leaves minutes before the start, skipping his first class ever. He knows he’s being rude; he knows he undoubtedly embarrassed you. But he can’t get mixed up with Jujutsu- not when he started liking uni.

Post-Canon! Megumi swears he sees you everywhere and avoids you like the plague. Yet his eyes always seek you out, and his brain takes note of every little thing about you, from the casual sweatpants and hoodie you wear to morning classes to how you’re dolled up at late-night parties. Your laugh, your make-up, the perfume you wear, depending on your mood- he notices it all. He feels all sorts of emotions when he sees you yet squelches those in the far back of his mind. No, he keeps his distance even as you get close to Yuji and Nobara. If you three are eating together, he’ll skip lunch, if you three are hanging out, he’ll cancel last minute. Sometimes, his friends let him get away with it- but more often than not, Yuji or Nobara see right through him and force him to sit beside you. And the awkwardness can be cut through with a knife. 

Post-Canon! Megumi notices when you’ve been out hunting curses. It’s the faint linger of cursed energy and the distinct smell on you that he pickles up. He notices when there’s a tiny limp in your step. He notices when you’re tired and when you’re practically burned out; the way your eyes drop during the teacher's lecture; the way you scribble down your homework mere minutes before submission, or the way you stress about not being able to buy the course literature before the first assignment is due by poking at your lunch and not answering Nobara. So he leaves his books out before going to the bathroom, knowing Yuji and Nobara will push you to take pictures of the few pages you need.

Post-Canon! Megumi swears he is done with being a sorcerer and that he doesn’t want to have anything to do with curses. Yet when he sees you stumbling out of your dorm room, in your jujutsu get up, barely able to keep your eyes open, he can’t help the pang of worry in his chest. He swears he is done being a sorcerer, even as his feet carry him to follow you.. 

[buttercupblu]

Satoru's Psyche|Escalating

"Should I really have to suffer for my actions?"

Previous SessionSession 2 of 10|Next Session

🗂️Patient Chart Update: Patient Gojo displayed extremely flirtatious and unruly behavior during the first half of his visit. Mentions of escape and kid-napping were noted as well as enforced close proximity with his nurse. Threatening remarks were also made at the end of his lunch in response to mentions of disciplinary action. Patient is scheduled for a bath but is pending the possibility of negative punishment to instill corrective behaviors. 📋Length of Session (w.c): 8.3k out of "i said we will cross that bridge when we get to it 😊" 💊Intake Chart (tags): mild violence but no in-action descriptors, coercion, manipulation, drug use, angst, unwatched close contact and touch, nudity, mentally unstable Gojo, Nurse!Reader ✏️Doctor's angel’s note: i hope you know what you're doing, Nurse 🎼Waiting room music: Overheated|Billie Eilish

Choose wisely.

Hunger stirs in your tummy, and Gojo's words sit with you through lunch. Your spoon clinks around the bowl, stirring the soup growing colder by the second though the growls from your stomach are too obnoxious to be ignored. But your mind wanders.

You're stuck. Earlier, you were all for serving up justice on a silver platter, but now you're seriously second-guessing your "genius" idea to punish Gojo by making him someone else's problem.

As if anyone will be crazy enough to say yes.

Everyone already avoids his wing like the plague. It's kind of an unspoken fact that you are Gojo's one and only. The only staff he allows near him. Anyone else would be playing with fire.

And if someone is brave enough to willingly throw themselves into the lion's den, they definitely can't be new. New to nursing—new to the ward. High expertise is needed here. Someone seasoned—experience which you lack yourself—otherwise, they won't last a second with Gojo.

It'll be way too easy for him to make them snap, like tossing a bone to a dog.

"Persephone." Yuko brings you out of your coma.

You perk up, instinctively smiling. "Hey, what's up?"

"You tell me," she snorts. "You've been playing with your food like break isn't over in 10 minutes." She touches your arm. "Everything ok?"

It's written all over your face, huh? You could deflate right now.

This is why Yuko is your favorite co-worker. Always reading you like a book without you needing to say a word. Quick to call anything off out.

Leaning back in your chair, you huff, rubbing circles into your temples to relieve the headache you didn't know you had.

"Yeah, yeah," you begin, "It's just—" You stop, her eyes hold so much concern and you've barely opened your mouth. Not sure if you should now because you know what kind of person Yuko is.

And if she knew even half of what you don't tell her during your lunch breaks spent complaining about work, she'd hang Gojo out to dry if she could. She often makes it very clear she hates you have to deal with him at all.

"—I'm just a bit tired. Gojo's scheduled for a bath later, him and two others. Gojo's easy but...I don't know. I feel slower than usual today. Definitely won't get home until late, again, because of all these sponge baths." You cringe at the last part.

Aside from trying to keep Yuko cool, you also don't want to risk the news getting back to the Director who could take you off of Gojo completely. No one else can take your place. And who knows what would happen if you disappeared from his roster for good?

How would his threats manifest?

Yuko scoffs, waving her hand.

"Gojo and easy do not go together," and you both shake your heads and laugh. "But I get it. You did come in super early."

"Thought there'd be less of us," you sigh.

"Sonya's been on our asses lately, right? But hey, she finally got us all here."

"A little too late. The damage is done," you pout, resting your elbows on the table, realizing you've accidentally grown used to chaos and ever-changing schedule.

You routinely plan ahead to make sure you can stand up when people fall short. Constantly putting yourself on the back burner seems to be a thing that always set you back.

"Sooo, you just need rest, ya? Nothing else? Gojo—" there she goes "—been 'okay' with you lately?"

Your heart skips. "Ya. he isn't so bad today," you lie, "I'd just love to be home on time for once. Maybe even a bit early, I'm soo close. Overtime's been wringing my neck for weeks."

Yuko looks at you with puppy dog eyes. And not in a "I feel sorry for you" kind of way, but one that almost makes you feel bad for not telling her the whole truth.

"Here," she pushes your soup towards you, "How about I do Gojo's bath and you get an early start on my last two? That way you can at least binge that show you won't shut up about later." She smiles.

You immediately protest.

There's no way you can do that to her.

Yuko never even crossed your mind and was far from your first pick, not because she can't handle him but because she's your friend. Not just a colleague, but someone you actually care about more than anyone else in this run-down job even if she doesn't feel the same.

She's too good of a person, and you'd be the Devil Incarnate if you let her do something so risky. Especially when you can just suck it up and get it over with.

"Woah, woah, it's just a bath, calm down," she says, taking your hands in hers as you ramble on, trying to convince her that you'll be fine or that you'll find someone else. Burdening her is simply out of the question.

"Who else but me, Seph'?" and she tilts her head, "You don't you think I'm as good as you?" And the way she says it, giving you that look she does when you're being stubborn, dares you to challenge her.

Now you really have to think about what to say.

Goddamn it, you regret saying anything at all, but Yuko's so motherly, how could you resist? Hiding from her is impossible, she would've sniffed you out sooner or later.

Easing your pains when she can is her specialty—helping to calm and settle you down when you blow things out of proportion.

Could this be one of those moments? Or are Gojo's words more than just hot air?

The back and forth is killing you, but the combination of Yuko's reassuring touch and your gurgling stomach puts the final nail in the coffin as she reminds you of the time.

Eyes wide, you look at the clock, ticking away faster than you realized, then back at your lukewarm soup.

Denying that you need help would be silly because technically it's true. You probably should've asked the Director for a little Gojo break forever ago, even if just for a few hours a few times a week. It would be better than nothing because if you can't function, Gojo can't be cared for.

So, who better to help bridge that gap for you than Yuko?

The gutsy woman has been your rock ever since you started at the ward, having your back and sticking with you through tough times when staff constantly dips in and out of the facility like a rotating door, unable to handle the job.

Yuko's a real day one, and next to you, she's the most competent nurse in these walls, fully equipped with a "take-no-shit" attitude that routinely keeps her patients in check.

When you really think about it, it'd be silly, downright irresponsible to trust anyone else.

Her offer is simply too good to dismiss.

"Thank you, Yuko," you cave, grabbing your spoon and finally allowing yourself to enjoy your meal. "You're...amazing. I don't deserve you."

She looks on happily. "Just promise me you'll take some personal time after this," she insists, worry evident in her voice. "We both know how much you care, but even superheroes need rest." She's too kind and right in more ways than one. "Besides, I think Gojo will like me, ya? I'm cool. I'm fun. He'll like a friend of friend?"

You roll your eyes—ya, totally, cool people definitely say they're cool.

Not knowing whether to joke back or wave her off, you softly smile at her concern before nodding, vowing to make good on your promise and feel a bit lighter knowing your wish for early release will actually come true.

Maybe.

The latest threat to your miracle in the making is Mr. Hampton, who is personally making it his business to drag the already long day by its edges, almost bringing time to a standstill with the way he's handling his bath.

Enormous and lumbering, the man Yuko usually deals with took his sweet time gathering his things and even longer trekking down the seemingly endless halls leading to the bathing area. Occupying every inch of the space like those massive trucks that hog the interstate, yet inching along at a pace that makes a snail look like it's in a sprint.

All that was missing were the yellow hazard lights.

Oh no, please, take your time, you think, watching Mr. Hampton clean each limb painstakingly s l o w in a tub that's comically too small for him. You may have been able to rush through Yuko's first patient, but this one wanted all that time back.

His pace resembles a giant's, and his cheery, nonsensical hums echo around the hollow chambers and lull you to sleep, turning your eyes into bricks under the spell of his melody. Perfect timing for the energy drinks from early to crash you out, tag teaming with the chair beneath you that feels a bit too soft as you lean over the tub, willing the colossal man to hurry up.

Warm water flows over your skin as you scrub circles on his neck, deciding to bite the bullet and take over the bath so he can play with the bubbles and get out when you hear a blood-curdling scream.

Your entire body goes rigid, shock reverberating through your spine and forcing you to halt as your mind goes blank. But steamy water brings you back to life, drenching your shirt and upper thighs when Mr. Hampton jumps from the noise.

The rude awakening makes you lock in.

The scream. It sounds like...no, you know it came from the west wing...where Gojo is.

And Yuko.

Hurried steps rush past your door, sounds of multidirectional distress and frantic shouts echoing through the corridor—staff members and patients alike sweep into a whirlwind of panic.

You're number one, dropping the scrubber and scrambling to help Mr. Hampton out of the tub, hands shaking as he grips them.

A security guard bursts into the room, face ashen and jaw tight.

"Nurse! We need everyone in the west wing, immediately!" The command is sharp, laced with an urgency you've never seen before.

And immediately feel responsible for.

"There's been an incident."

Without another thought, you wrap Mr. Hampton in a towel, trying your best to assure him that everything is fine when your obviously trembling body says nothing is. His confused gaze follows you as you lead him back to his room, the commotion in the air moving him a lot faster than earlier before you rush back out and head straight for the west wing—where chaos reigns supreme.

The usually pristine floors, normally squeaky clean due to lack of traffic, are now barely visible. Staff members crowd the familiar hall for the first time since Gojo made it his own, filling the space with more bodies than you're used to and making it difficult to find the source of trouble.

Not like you need to. The truth is painfully clear, and it's disrespectful to even pretend you don't know exactly what went wrong.

You push through the masses, clumsily bumping shoulders, your heart beating into your ears and making the world seem quiet as you inch closer and closer to disaster. Dragging imaginary shackles on your feet until you all but collapse once you spot it.

Gojo—barely restrained by guards, straitjacket nowhere in sight—standing absolutely furious.

And for the first time today, time seems to slow down, your mouth suddenly becoming dry when you look past him.

Yuko.

Halfway out the door to his room. Sprawled out on the ground. Bruised, unconscious, and no signs of breathing.

Your hands fly to your lips, mouth agape. Murmurs from the crowd swirl around you before attendants rush to Yuko's side, knocking into your pathetic frame as you stand too frozen to move.

They gently pick her up, careful to handle her motionless body and place her on a stretcher. Her usually vibrant face is drained of color, twisting the dagger in your chest when you spot the subtle rise and fall of her chest. Fighting for breath.

Fighting.

It hits you like a train.

Someone as kind as her, always greeting you with warmth and empathy and capacity every time she sees you, should never have to lift a finger let alone fight for her life. The sight is too much to bear.

Waves of helplessness crash over you and you can't even look at her. Regretting with every ounce of your being that you sent her in your place. Knowing this could happen. Concerned only with your silly wants and needs.

But you're so confused.

The ward should have weakened Gojo—Yuko should have been fine. The only threat Gojo has up his sleeve is mental torture but Yuko might as well be Freud. Her mind is sound, strong.

And that's where you fucked up, forgetting that Gojo's pure strength, especially when he's lost his fucking mind and triggered, is stronger.

Even with his security system in place, the devil is still powerful enough on his own. And like this was some sick and twisted experiment to help you figure that out, Yuko was the one to pay the price.

"I warned, I WARNED YOU!" Gojo's words pierce the overlapping voices like a sword, breaking your shock and drawing everyone's attention to the strange interaction between the two of you. "I don't like to be touched by strangers, Nurse." Guards struggle to restrain him as he pulls away.

All eyes fall on you and the stares are intense. Confusion and judgment.

Why was Yuko here in the first place?Where was Seph’?How’d he get out?How did this happen? 

Whether the murmurs are real or in your head, the effect is all the same, and you wish you could just completely vanish. Standing like a deer in headlights—and they're so fucking bright.

But Gojo is brimming with malice and amusement, chaotic energy pulsing from the hellish man and threatening to send sparks flying. Daring someone to be brave and push the button.

But despite his outward display of dominance, the pure rage on his face that makes you feel sick to your stomach about every decision you've ever made, there's something...uncertain lurking behind those fiery eyes.

Something like...apprehension.

Like he knows he's done something wrong.

Yet, words escape you, as if anything needs to or even could be said. But soon, fear and guilt turn to anger, threatening to consume you. Ready to eat you alive and spit out the bones with disgust because you are not a victim.

You have no right to stand here, spineless, shocked, or feeling even a little sorry for yourself. Holding back tears because you know what you've done.

Your fists clench, unsure how to deal with it, but there's fire in your eyes because someone needs to pay.

But then you exhale, thoughts shifting to Yuko as you take a good look around at what happened the last time you decided to take things into your own hands. All of your actions, even now, are rooted in selfishness. Like you've learned nothing.

Pushing down the knot growing in your stomach, you turn away to follow the medics, deciding your friend needs you more than you need revenge. Gojo doesn't deserve any more of your attention, even if it means risking your job or life to turn your back on him.

And there's nothing Gojo hates more than being ignored.

Struggled and strained noises grow louder. Guards tighten their grip on the fuming man whose raw strength outnumbers thousands of them even without his cursed energy.

You look back, their determination to keep him contained making you nervous. You don't anyone else to get hurt and Gojo is fully exploiting that.

You're painfully aware that your decisions have put you in this position, watching the guards' valiant but increasingly pointless effort to prevent Gojo from causing further harm. But it's obviously a losing fight, and the unease on their faces is unmistakably clear.

You wonder why they don't just run like hell.

"Let's go," a guard barks, but Gojo remains fixed in place. Moving a boulder would be easier.

"No, I'm filthy," Gojo protests, smirking, "And if I don't have my bath soon, there will be hell to pay."

Seeing no one else in the room, his eyes are locked only on you, his expression a menacing promise that would send anyone else running for the hills. A look that says, "Try that shit again, and there will be casualties instead of mercy."

Reinforcements are called but it won't be enough. The goddamn military wouldn't be enough. Gojo is...the strongest, after all.

"Stop."

Your cry freezes the room. Everything goes silent.

You hesitate, fuck, what should you do?

What can you do? No one else can suffer—no one else should suffer. Because of you.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you silently apologize to Yuko, swallowing a lump instead of looking back.

"I'll do it," you say firmly, "Just stop this and...and I'll give you your bath. Please—" The sharpest pang you've ever felt cuts through you. "—just don't hurt anyone else."

Pathetic. But necessary.

He looks into your pleading eyes with surprise, amazement even, before smiling.

The submission in your voice sounds better than anything he could ever imagine. A sweet tones that feed his already inflated ego.

Unsure of how to proceed, the guards exchange uneasy glances.

Gojo's strength is undeniable, that much is evident, and restraining him forever is simply not possible.

You know offering to give him what he wants is risky as hell...but this is your doing. Your mess to clean up.

So you squeeze your sweaty palms and give a decisive nod, signaling at the guards to let him go. They hesitate a second, then reluctantly agree, stepping back and leaving Gojo standing smugly before you.

Closing your eyes, you breathe, hating to have to look at him, but needing to stay strong. For Yuko. For yourself. And everyone else in the ward.

But Gojo's satisfied grin says it all. He's won this round.

You're ready to get the next over with.

The squeaking of your shoes has never been this loud, each echo bouncing off the empty halls and reminding you of how alone you are.

Alone—with a psychopath.

A bit more docile, doped-up psychopath but, the man could probably still rip someone's head clean off if he wanted to.

Still, Gojo despises anything that alters his body—mentally, physically, all of the above. Alcohol, medication, coffee, energy drinks—anything that threatens his need for absolute control.

But he also needed to compromise, and you refused to be alone with him again unless he took something stronger. Otherwise, it would be you, all the guards in the ward, and a pay-per-view premiere of his bath time.

He knew he had to agree because his ass is not for free, but only if you took it as well.

You blinked, hard.

You knew he would be skeptical—hell, it could be poison, and he wouldn’t blame you. But to suggest something so ridiculous?

"Half, then," he said, as if that made his suggestion any less idiotic, but, as you waited for your supervisor to dismiss the insane idea, the back and forth with Gojo actually didn't save you. And you didn't need to ask why. The entire ward shoots daggers at you any time someone walks by now.

Your supervisor reassured you that you'd be fine, the mild tranquilizer would be out of your system by the end of the day, then she patted your back as if to say, "Lay in the bed you made."

It felt unreal, holding the familiar pill between your fingers, one you were used to dishing out but now had to take.

With a quick snap, you broke it in half, holding his half out to the leering man. Gaze unwavering as he leaned forward and parted his lips, waiting. Taking a deep breath, you placed them both on your tongues, in disbelief at your reality, but Gojo's focus was elsewhere, not wasting this prime opportunity to rattle you more and taste you, closing his lips around your fingertip with a quick lick before you snatched away.

But it wasn’t quick enough to avoid the tingles shooting up your arm as you swallowed, no longer needing the water you had set aside, and a confusing mix of emotions churned as the tingles spread throughout your body.

Making good on his promise, he swallowed his own, still watching you with a knowing glint in his eyes. Like he knows what he does to you. And despite just witnessing this man's violence firsthand, you'd give anything to deny that he still has an effect on you. Hating yourself for being more concerned with the way he looked at you and the lingering sensation on your skin than the tranquilizer now coursing through your system.

The guards carefully lead you and Gojo to his private bathroom—they're more there for show than for protection, but you'll take what you can get, and they keep a firm grip on his replacement straitjacket.

You trail behind, mind buried with thoughts of what to say once you're really alone with him.

The door shuts behind you, followed by the familiar sound of a series of locks clicking shut. "We'll be right outside," one of the guards mutters, eyes shifting between you and Gojo, a stereotypical warning lacing his voice, but even he probably doesn't believe it.

"Perv," Gojo sneers and laughs, but you don't find a damn thing funny, the keys to his jacket digging into your palms as you spin around and face him, furious. What would be better? Slapping him, kicking him, or knocking his teeth out. Or should you be particularly evil and just let him sit in the shower, fully restrained and drenched in cold water and you let it rain down. None of the above will do you any good, but it'll show him exactly how done you are with his shit.

"That isn't funny. None of this is funny," it fumes out before you know you're speaking, "You've hurt someone—you hurt my friend." Your rage echos through the vast bathroom.

Gojo's laugh fades, his smug expression slipping from his face. Even you're surprised.

...oh shit.

You're actually confronting him.

The intense words burn through his usual arrogance, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you.

Then, for a fleeting second, his face does something weird.

Something you haven't seen before as his eyebrows draw together. Is that...regret?

"I'm sorry."

The record scratches. You’re fully positive you must be dreaming.

But when he doesn’t make a joke or even crack a smile, you squint at him.

The words are muttered and reluctant, but there they are, hanging in the air between you.

"It...won't happen again."

And he's serious, the same seriousness you see when his heart races as you take his vitals...but why? Because an apology? From him?? Unheard of.

Gojo has said some nasty things to you in the past that you've immediately scolded him for, but he's never apologized. He'd make a note when certain jokes didn't land, but he never took them back, preferring to cut out his own tongue than to waste his breath being sorry.

You know better than to take anything Gojo says at face value, but...what the fuck??? You almost feel offended.

He has to be joking, fucking with you to dig even deeper under your skin.

Or is he?

Fuck, you don't know how to feel.

He's so good at that, stealing the air back and hanging his words in them. Tempting you to pause and even consider if he ever truly means them. If he could mean them. The mind games are endless.

But then, the familiar cockiness returns and overshadows your doubts, twisting your stomach into knots with that familiar smile of his.

"Now," he says, strutting towards the stalls, "let's get this bath started, shall we?" And his easy, but confident steps call you to follow, a stark reminder of who you're dealing with. But he never knows when to quit. "Or should I really have to suffer for my actions?" and the bastard pouts.

Though you know he's being sarcastic and not to feed into his taunts, you can't help but wonder—what would suffering even look like for someone like Gojo?

Violence? Physical pain? A slow and agonizingly painful death?

But the guy is damn near invincible. What on earth could hurt him?

Whatever it is, it would have to be his absolute worst nightmare, but nothing comes to mind at the moment other than frustration because you have to keep making choices.

Return his energy or keep it professional? Tolerance or revenge?

"Apologizing won't cut it," you snap and gesture at his jacket, wondering how the hell he slipped out of the first one without leaving a trace. "And no tricks, or those guards will be back in here faster than you can tell another lame joke."

Smooth.

Gojo sighs sooo dramatically, like he can see straight through your kitty claws. "Fine, fine. Loosen up," he drags, "I won't cause any trouble. Just don't go getting any ideas now, Nurse." and he winks.

He's insufferable—but despite your smoldering anger, tendrils of doubt still creep in.

Your fingers slightly tremble as you begin to unfasten his straps, but each click feels a bit like victory, a fragile illusion of your 'control'—at least for now—because at the end of the day, Gojo had chosen you to listen to. And after today, he's sure you won't forget there isn't room for anyone else.

The jacket falls with a heavy thud, your eyes immediately scanning his upper body in search of any signs of injury or stress. The cascading bruises on his arms surprise you.

They feel so feeble in your hands; the evidence of him not as invincible as he seems is jarring. Pale, weak, and resting between your fingers. Devoid of the power that makes him so feared.

"Never seen bruises before," he tilts his head, "at least not on me"

You hope Yuko was at least partly responsible for the marks on the villain, but they appear self-inflicted, and he's not as mobile.

Fuck, now you'll have to bathe him too. Still, it's strange, seeing him like this. Even weirder knowing that he could still do damage in this state and you can't shake the feeling of this temporary 'truce'. If it isn't obvious by now, you've learned that Gojo always has something up his sleeve.

Warm water soothes you a bit, flowing over your fingers as it fills the large white tub—pristine, imported from somewhere far away, and standing on decorative claw feet. Your eyes wouldn't stop rolling the first time you saw it, completely annoyed with Gojo's over-the-top alterations and sense of style, but you'd be a liar if you said you never thought about sinking your body into it.

The best you could do was cope with the little porcelain tub in your apartment, and you get lost thinking about how you'd love to take a long, hot, and steamy bath when you get home—if you'll even have the energy. There's no way you'll be leaving early now, not like you deserve it, and you feel sick for even thinking about it. You doubt you'll even have a job tomorrow.

You look so defeated Gojo thinks, sauntering forward and lifting the hem of his shirt. You turn away, focusing instead on the temperature of the water, but the rustling sound of his shirt being pulled overhead and pants falling to the ground warms your cheeks.

His physique certainly isn't lacking, even in his current state, but still, you wonder how such a slim but toned frame could be so...powerful.

Could you be more obvious? Your flickering eyes are so telling, shamefully darting between him and the water, but he catches your gaze from the corner of his eye as if he's read your mind. How cute, he thinks, trying to hide away your thoughts.

Clearing your throat, you toss in his loofah. "Well...go on. It's ready." But Gojo only grins, amused by your attempts to look away despite seeing his muscled frame a number of times. Relishing in the fact that he still manages to fluster you.

"Your shirt," he eyes your top, "Your pants. Looks like you've already started without me."

The water stains from earlier sit beautifully across your chest, not yet fully dry, and drawing his eyes to your semi-erect nips.

His teeth tug at his bottom lip, eyes shamelessly raking over your hefty chest. "Always such a tease, aren't you, Nurse?"

You grit your teeth, cursing the conflict swirling in your stuttering heart, fully aware of the thin line between professionalism and this game of intimacy he refuses to stop playing. Everything is always a game no matter the circumstances. And he loves to push your buttons.

"Just get in, Gojo," you order, and after what feels like an eternity, the silence is broken by the sound of splashing water as he steps into the bath.

He slowly sinks in, sighing at the warmth of the water. Ringlets of steam engulf him, almost making his silky white hair disappear with it.

His arms string over the rim of the tub, a look of relaxation resting on his face as if he's had a long, hard day. You resist the urge to slap it off.

Sudsy bubbles form from the solution you pour under the faucet, hoping to shield your eyes from his body. You've seen enough today and expect the mini-rebellious act to piss him off, but as the bubbles grow, so do his eyes. Picking up a handful, he actually starts playing with them.

"Nice touch," he adds, blowing them right into your face, and you watch with a tight lip as he decorates the bathroom with them, knowing you'll be the one to clean it all up.

He sits a crown on his head and gives himself a bubble beard, nipping your nose with some that you're quick to wipe away, and his pale eyes flutter and settle on you in a curious way.

His arms flex as he leans over the edge—steam-slicked sweat dripping down his face that he doesn't bother to wipe away. "I'm ready for my sponge bath," he says, and if it was hard to take him seriously before, it's damn near impossible now—especially with that ridiculous bubble mustache.

Sickening, him still being so playful, so unserious, at a time like this.

You know Gojo's unhinged, yeah, quote, "mentally unwell and a literal danger to society", but to nearly take someone's life and then make jokes afterward?

God, you feel so stupid, walking around him like you were the shit but with the wrong guard up the whole time, playing right into his hands and accidentally rewarding this grown-ass man who likes to play with suds.

The reality of your circumstances replays in your head, the story of how you ended up here, coddling this monster, and you're still confused as hell as to why it had to be you.

Then again, this is what you signed up for...right? To heal. To help those who can't help themselves. To offer redemption some sort of redemption no matter how sick and twisted the person in need is.

With your loofah in hand, you resist the urge to roll your eyes for the 400th time today and keep your morals in mind. "Keep talking like that and I'll stop, Gojo," you say, reluctantly drenching the tool in soap before proceeding to do your job.

Gently washing his back, he sinks into your touch, closing his eyes and letting his body completely rest on the cool cast iron, breathing. Feeling like he's won no matter what you say because your scrubs feel like magic.

Across his arms and over his broad shoulders, you work your way down, bubbles glistening in your trail as you're careful not to miss a single inch of skin but don't linger too long.

Every now and then, you catch glimpses of raised marks between the foam, and because you hate yourself, your brain absolutely refuses to give you a break. You have to give kudos to his dedication to his craft. The muscle definition, the scar tissue telling stories of battles won, the evidence of his past before corruption—everything it takes to be a hero.

It's unsettling, yet fascinating, the polarity between his beauty and his monstrous deeds.

You've never really noticed because this level of care is another first for you. Usually, Gojo just hops into the shower and takes care of himself while you wait outside—easy and thorough but always taking his sweet time, all while loudly singing some annoying song that inevitably ends up stuck in your head.

But after today, it'll be impossible to trust him or you again, and the hushed whispers as the guards walked you both to the restrooms made that abundantly clear.

The pitiful thoughts seep into the way you hesitantly clean him, moving down to his chest and abs while making sure to avoid more sensitive areas, but the malicious glint in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Whatsamatter, Nurse?" Gojo taunts, feeling you slow around his stomach, "Afraid of gettin' too close?" And you can't believe you're praying for a speedy recovery for this monster so he can handle this himself again.

You ignore his comment and try to get this over with as quickly as possible, feeling humiliated enough as it is and he can sense it, mocking you with a laugh.

"You're so uptight. Can't you just relax and enjoy the view?"

God, please make him shut up, begging for relief so you won't scrub his cocky brow right off his face. "Just doing my job," you mutter, twice squeezing the loofah that feels a little funny in your hand as the soapy water rinses his chest.

It feels heavenly on his skin, but the subtle change in your movements makes his brows furrow. Slowing, more deliberate, heavy as if you're wading through molasses. You keep adjusting your grip but the material feels so strange—the texture almost too soft like it could melt into your palm.

Your breath catches when you brush his skin, not realizing how close your fingers drifted to the edge of the sponge, and though it was only a second, it sends an unexpected jolt through his chest.

The muscle relaxers. How could you have already forgotten, you both think.

But Gojo, ever observant, doesn't miss a thing.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you. "Feeling a little funny, Nurse?" His velvet voice teases.

"I'm fine," you lie, though you couldn't be less certain as the muscles in your hands start to relax more than you intended, the sponge gliding over his abs, and down his sides, the rhythm almost hypnotic and making his head fall back. You try to push through the haze, to finish quickly and be free of him, but you're losing the battle against numbness and heightened awareness.

And fuck, he has to bite his lip at your touch that suddenly feels so intense, a sensation too good to keep to himself, and one that you obviously need to stop being such a tight-ass.

You need to loosen up in a way that medicine can't help. And Gojo knows just the trick.

He licks his lips, tongue curling over his canine before splashing a wave of water on you in one swoop.

Saying you gasp is an understatement as the steamy wash drenches your face and front once again, setting a new record as you're hit not once, but twice in a day. The loofah slips from your hand as you instinctively reach up to shield yourself, but Gojo is quicker, wrapping his hands around your wrists and holding you in place.

A scream is ready to surge from your body when Gojo maneuvers both of your wrists into one hand, placing a finger to your lips.

"Ssssh ssh ssh ssh ssh," he hushes, his voice a little too calm, "I'm not going to hurt you." A lone droplet hangs from your eyelash and he swipes it. "I just want you to listen."

You freeze, your nerves on fire as you're forced into close proximity with him for the second time today, inches away from his face that gradually softens.

Though you can easily call for help, you know better than to argue—he knows you know better too but he never felt threatened in the first place. Besides, he can feel your breathing slowing, the effects of the pill combined with his firm hold sending a faint buzz from your wrists to your stomach, and his finger remains on your lips as he brings his closer.

His eyes flicker to your bottom lip. "You're so good at your job, Nurse," smoothly pulling it with his thumb. "That's why I like you. You're thorough but real. Just what I need to keep me sane."

Sane?

"Sane," he repeats like he's heard your thoughts. "Believe it or not, you keep me grounded...like a good boy. Be proud, not a single soul here or anywhere else can compare to me, let alone deal with me, and yet...here you are." He looks at you like you're a marvel. "You can handle that...can't you?"

Words fail you. This feels rhetorical. Why does he keep torturing you like this? What is it about you?

You haven't really thought about it since your first few weeks with him but now he's forcing you to think about the little 'power' he's given you that he can easily snatch back.

What happens if he decides to go further than flirting?

You can't handle it, any of this.

Hesitating, you're unsure of what to say but know it could never be the truth.

Gojo must sense it because he leans closer, his breath warm on your cheek.

"If you leave, I just might crack completely, beauty." A breath you didn't realize you were holding slips. "How do you think everyone else will do against me then, hmm?" Gojo knows he's a prodigy, but still manages to surprise himself sometimes, his eyes lingering over the spots on your uniform soaked through just enough to make the fabric cling—perfect aim.

Ice shoots up your spine from the heat of his unadulterated gaze, but you refuse to let him see you falter, and he can almost feel a prick from the daggers in your eyes.

"Oh, don't be like that," he purrs, thumbs grazing your wrists in a mockingly gentle touch. "We all have our boundaries, right? I thought communication was key in a relationship."

"Let go of me," you find your voice, "We're done here."

His head slightly tilts.

Look at you calling the shots, he thinks. So strong, so very serious.

"God, I can't help it," he breathes, "You're so fun to mess with."

He could laugh in your face, have his way with you, and show you that your resistance means nothing, but instead, he slowly releases your wrists and lies back against the tub. "I know you think about it—there's nothing wrong with a little fun...right?" and though the connection is severed, you don't know if it's the drugs or just him that makes his amplified touch linger as you sheepishly rub your wrists.

Gojo watches you blush red—thoughts you didn't know lived within you rushing to the forefront as if he's pushed a button.

Grimy, raw, unwanted thoughts of forbidden fruit, wandering hands, and stolen touches in the dark, wondering what his idea of "fun" is like under the sheets. With a psycho named Gojo.

You feel like you should throw up in disgust but the nausea never comes, burning hot between your legs instead.

Fuck, you have to get out of here.

You draw a breath, forcing away the torturous daydreams and quickly finish his bath.

"You should rest," you firmly say and pull the plug to let the tub drain. "And don't expect any more favors from me."

He sits up slow, his expression stone-cold as he slicks back his wet hair. Then he smiles. "I promise. Now dry me off?" he quips.

You ignore his request, swiftly handing him a towel before he can flash you. With a gruff, you lower to your knees, beginning to dry the floor of his messes and hoping to distract yourself from your questionable sanity.

The sounds of rustling fabric fill the chamber as he dries off, and once you figure it's safe, you look up to find a nude Gojo. Dripping with bubbles, hair plastered to his derpy face, and toned muscles, all the muscles, presenting themselves in all their glory.

The only things dry are his damn hands.

He throws the towel over his shoulder, sauntering towards you with a wicked grin.

"Well, aren't you gonna help me put this thing back on?" He nods at the jacket he knows is more bullshit than security. "Don't want you getting all worked up again."

The first time your brain registered that Gojo was flirting with you was on your third day as his nurse.

"Well, aren't you a breath of fresh air?" Gojo was sitting on his bed, leaning against the wall. It was the second time he'd noticed how sluggish you looked while tending to him, suggesting with a grin that you must be quite the party animal.

Ha. If only.

You tsked, tossing his bedsheets into the hamper, and assured him that your sleepy eyes and dragging feet were the result of long hours and running on fumes. Having time for fun was just a dream.

"I don't get out much myself," he says, alluding to the situation he's in, wearing sarcasm like a necklace. "I love a good night in as much as anyone else but, I don't know. The stuffiness hasn't grown on me yet."

You tugged the collar of your scrubs—the air did feel a bit thick, like the room hadn't been aired out in ages and you couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been sitting in it—how he could. That alone would be enough to drive you up a wall.

Sunlight flickered in your eyes, and you raised your hand to block it, noticing the small window perched above his chair.

"Let's open this then," you said, walking over and wrestling with the ancient wood for a moment before finally pulling the creaky flap up to the ceiling.

A sliver of your midriff peeked out as you stood on your toes to reach it, but what captured Gojo's attention most was the way the sun rays washed over your face. You scrunched your nose, the breeze sending wisps of your hair to tickle it, and he imagined the feel of your strands between his fingers.

The view was beautiful, you thought, hands gripping the warm bars. Trees surrounded the vast area, stretching out as far as you could see, the pathway to civilization completely covered in dense forest from this angle.

You never realized how high up his ward was—or how long the drop was from here.

"Too bad I'm not small enough to slip through those bars." He rubbed his stomach. "But you know me, 'Mr. BigBack.'"

He joked around as he usually did, looking to trigger your defenses, but your reaction was...odd.

Not only was this the first time anyone cared to do something so simple for Gojo, but it was also the closest anyone had gotten to him without their knees buckling.

The first two days of your trial, the Director had guards posted right outside of Gojo's door, their presence a constant reminder to stay alert and maintain a safe distance from the convict. Gojo was positive the mental barrier would keep a wall between you forever.

But then, you laughed. A real laugh. Snickery and cute. Finding his joke funny instead of threatening.

It surprised him, that sound, so natural and pure without hesitation. And he wanted to hear it again and again and again. "Who knew you could bring so much light into this place?" he sighed.

Later at lunch, you sat with Yuko, having your usual midday catch-up. You never start with yours but she, like most people in the ward then, was absolutely dying to hear about how you were dealing with the villain of the century.

"He's actually not so bad...yet. Corny, but," you took a pondering breath, "He kind of thanked me today?"

She immediately scoffed and waved you off, and who could blame her?

You were an anomaly, Gojo already showed that he was capable of mercy and now he was thanking you??

Being polite was too far of a stretch to believe, you must have been mistaken. But when you gave her the deets on why he'd do such a thing, she nearly choked on her apple. "He said that??"

"Ya?" You patted her back with a concerned look.

"Watch out, Casanova," she teased, clearing her throat with a nervous laugh.

Her comment threw you off for the rest of lunch, but when you thought about it later that night while surfing for new shows, a light bulb went off.

He flirted with you.

Thinking it was just another one of those literal dry-humor jokes or simply gratitude for making his stay a little less crappy, it flew right over your head. You always feel warm inside when you help people so you didn't think too much about it.

To you, it was just a kudos. Nothing more.

But the way Gojo stands in front of you now is everything.

As bold and brash as it gets.

Fuck. Me.

And your body betrays you, sending all of the vulnerable sensations you've been fighting to suppress from your soaking chest, tingling wrists, aching thighs, and heavy breath, straight to your throbbing clit.

Air escapes you and you couldn't feel more conflicted, scrambling to grab your supplies and leave.

Enough is enough. The guards outside can restrain him and escort him back to his room for all you care. You just have to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from temptation.

Hot, overwhelming, guilty, mentally and physically unstable temptation.

In the quiet of the hallway a level below Gojo's ward, you lean against a wall, taking deep breaths and completely disgusted with yourself.

How are you supposed to keep dealing with this, with him?

This force that keeps pushing and pushing and pushing you to the edge until there's nowhere else to go. You can only imagine the hell the nurses he didn't like went through.

Taking care of him isn't getting any easier, and now you were fucking up and making mistakes.

But you're the only one who can do this. Who must.

So suck it up. Play along, Stop thinking only of yourself. Pretend.

Pretend.

Pretend?

...

What terrifies you the most is the thought that you may not have to.

You keep your scrambled thoughts to yourself when you're called into your Director's office at the end of the day.

You tell him the same story you told Yuko and take full responsibility for what happened, blaming it on exhaustion and needing a break. Swearing to never let it happen again.

By some miracle, you get to keep your job, though your one wish to leave early ended up costing you an hour and a half of unpaid overtime, and almost a friendship.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed—images of the day, the ward, and Yuko flooding your thoughts, refusing to be pushed aside. You tell yourself that it's just the guilt talking, just anxiety gnawing at your edges.

But then there's Gojo.

The most prominent one of all.

Staring you in the face with lifeless eyes and a ghostly smile. Tugging on your moral strings like a puppet.

When you close your eyes, you can't shake the feeling that he's waiting for you, a lurker in the shadows watching and anticipating your every move. Have you become predictable? Now you're wondering if you could do something he wouldn't expect.

Leave it. Leave it. Le—

You're scrolling through your phone on a deep-diving, scouring the web for any info on your tormentor.

His past, his affiliations, anything to tell you who Gojo was, and who he is now.

But the man is an anomaly.

Not much is known about him outside of mainstream news and internet rumors.

He's just this guy that kind of popped out of nowhere in the worst way possible, conveniently on the tail of what could have been the most devastating incident in the history of Tokyo.

The media says he's a hero gone rogue but not much else. They've damned him to hell and that was that. Even the Director disclosed very little about him during your briefing and you weren't allowed access to his files or records because it's all 'confidential'.

Nothing.

The more you search, you less that comes up. Not even silly conspiracy theories that you definitely thought would be riddling Reddit. The longer you scroll, the more you find yourself beginning to question your own mind. Your interest. Sweet little buds of obsession.

Even though you hated taking it earlier, you actually need the pill now more than ever to relax as sleep eludes you and your mind wanders to imaginary scenarios as you stare at the ceiling. 

Tomorrow, you'll have to face Gojo again. And the day after that and the day after that and every day after.

In between your nearly non-existent off days, you'll have to see him and decide what face you want to put on.

Because you simply cannot walk away.

After all, he's right—no one else can handle him like you can.

extended angel's note:

when i originally decided to make this into short story, i had no plans on using a y/n perspective. it was just going to feature an OC name i’ve used in stories before, named Persephone, buuuut i decided to wanted to keep it immersive and include no physical descriptors/personality specifics bc i knew i wanted to upload it to tumblr. 

to keep it reader-friendly, yk? 

alas, Persephone has had her claws in me the entire time i’ve been editing and said with her whole chest that i couldn't just dismiss her like that chile. so i decided changed the perspective but keep her name in place of y/n. 

you won’t see it too often in the story bc it’s not super significant or said a lot in general, bUT it is relevant for a certain moment later in the story. you’ll know when you know 🤭. 

anyway, hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. and def feel free to mentally plug your name when you see it to keep yourself grounded into the story.

tag list p.1: @reddiamondjazz @kiwismoother @rune1920 @blkkizzat @suguwife

@xerroe @enthyn @gloomuri671 @ressyshi @startatdawn

@khenanadeche @heijihatsutori @inluvkai @ixqiix @strawnanamilk

@rosso-seta @05-simply-06-simping @sims-4lifers @bratidol @rh-tg1

@hyunsuks-beanie @n1vi @luna-v-roiya @neteyamsluvr111 @supsiii

@natadecoco30 @chiyokoemilia @ririoutspoken @kyoxko @strawberrymilkshakes-posts

@nen-nyy @cinnamorochiroll @kazeniya @maybe7tommorow @sxnkuna

@misoyuh @lupitalove @sebastianlover @gojosatorubrainrot @sleepiebunniee

@mmmidkman @theonecrackhead @thathorsegotpoobrain @iveivory @samistar

@yuuan-66 @gojoslefttoenail @soyalovestoyap @winkwonks-world @thebiggestsimpforyou 

[vifilms]

whats hers is mine | abby anderson

tags: eighteen+, wlw, sexual content, gf’s roommate!abby, toxic!abby, cheating (don't go cheating on your partners this is for fantasy purposes babe), abby fr is menance in this.

an. yeah! i was horny so...this literally came out of my brain so smoothly. do i hate it? yes. but am i still going to post it nd fight my brain telling me not to? yeah! happy reading my h*rny pals.

abby being your girlfriend’s roommate who you harbor a slight attraction towards. it’s nothing big, you have this under control, or at least it’s what you tell yourself. she’s hot, gorgeous, so incredibly muscular it makes you see stars. it tears you apart thinking of all the ways her strength could make you submit to her will.

make you hers.

fuck. but you have a girlfriend.

it’s a reminder you have to repeat over in your mind anytime you catch yourself being too flirty with her, but then she gives it to you right back. now, every night you dream of her milky skin, stunning blues looking right at you, and those soft lips caressing every inch of your skin, leaving marks in their path as abby stakes her claim. yet, you wake up with your girlfriend’s arm around you with your chest feeling warm at the fantasy of someone else. you have to avoid abby before you do something completely idiotic.

yet, she’s the first one to make the first move.

abby knows you’ve been avoiding her like the plague, so when she’s presented with a perfect opportunity, the conflict at hand is met with absolutely no resistance.

��abby, you’ve blocked my car in. can you move yours?” you ask through the shut door. she gives you a soft yes and when you’re two seconds from walking downstairs to meet her in the driveway.

she opens the fucking bathroom door.

water drips down sunkissed freckled skin, glistening from the shower she obviously took. her blonde hair darker than usual, falling down her back. the smirk there is vile, begging you to look further than her blue eyes.

with the way abby is looking at you, there’s no fucking way she doesn’t want it. clearly, she’s more patient than most, waiting for you to drop the eye contact.

“well?” abby lifts her left eyebrows, cocking her head to the side as she waits for you to react, crumble, cry. you’re not sure what exactly she’s looking for. the confidence radiating from her is irritating just as it is enticing.

when you shake your head silently, repeatedly too, the tall blonde takes a one step forward, the pad of her thumb places pressure on your chin, guiding your gaze where she wants. happily, you comply.

jesus fucking christ, you’d fully believe she was made just for you if someone told you.

the auburn towel is secured around hips loosely, her toned abdomen on full display, her small breasts sit beautifully, nipples hardened from the cool air. it’s not fair how fucking perfect she looks. there’s not a damn thing you want more than to wrap your lips around her pink nipples and suck.

“now, are you going to stop pretending you don’t want to fuck me, baby?” abby taunts, her voice light and airy but it shoots right to your core.

“i-i, abby, this is wrong we shouldn’t be doing this. you need to get dressed.” you try to great some distance but abby pulls you towards her as you enter the bathroom with her, left arm shutting the door as she locks it.

“mhm, you’ve been dating for what? two months? don’t be stupid baby, think with that pretty pussy of yours. know she wants me and you do too, babygirl.” abby grabs your hand placing it on her towel, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

“you can take it off if you want. do you wanna see my pussy baby?”

shit.

your fingertip plays with the fibers, before you can process what you’re doing, it’s unraveling off her strong hips exposing more of her built physique for your greedy eyes. quads are flexing as you take her in, the muscle rippling as you feast on her.

you have never been so truly and royally fucked.

meticulously, she removes each piece of clothing you’re wearing as her lips attack your own. as if she’s been planning this moment since she laid eyes on you. she bends you over the sink, your pretty ass in the air for her and her fingers smooth over your delectable cunt, enjoying the inconsistent twitching your taut body provides.

“now, be a good girl for me and let me fuck my baby, yeah? ‘m gonna fuck you better than she ever would.”

reblogs are appreciated! ♡

DO NOT BUY TLOU, FUCK NEIL DRUCKMANN + EDUCATE YOURSELF + DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE + DONATE TO PALESTINE.

[worksby-d]

16😮‍💨😮‍💨

thank you for sending a prompt!!! 🤎

50 types of kisses prompts 

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Prompt: One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Themes: Cheating (maybe!) (only if you choose to read it that way), sneaking around, a MINUTE amount of angst, I suppose.

Word count: ~500

Standing in your bathroom, you watch Andy sit on the edge of the tub to run the water for a bath. You both threw on just enough clothes to walk across the room from your bed, so the steam from the hot water gives you back some warmth that you lost when you rolled out of his arms.

You're lost in thought, staring at the steady stream of water when he looks up at you. He doesn't know where the frown on your face came from. 

“What's that look for?” 

Avoiding his gaze, you look down and pretend to pick lint off your shirt. 

“You haven't told her yet, have you?” 

Your voice is quiet and he just looks at you, wondering how you knew. 

“I can tell you have something on your mind… Like your head is somewhere else tonight.” 

He lets out a deep breath. “I'm sorry–” 

You look toward him. He's been telling you for weeks that he's just been waiting for the right time to tell Laurie that he's been seeing you while they've been taking a break. 

“Do you not want to..?” 

Your voice trails off. There's always been a worry in the back of your mind that he's going to find it easier one of these days to just go back to her, to put his feelings aside and keep their family the way it is. 

“No, no. It’s not like that,” he swears, turning the water off and standing up to step closer to you. “I promise.” 

You shrug. What does he expect you to think?

“It's just… Complicated.” 

The famous line. You subtly roll your eyes. 

“The longer you wait, the harder it'll be.” you carefully remind him. 

“I know.” He wishes you'd look him in the eye to see he means it. He holds his hand out for you. “I know. Come here.” 

Hesitantly taking his hand, you let him pull you only a little closer. “I don't want you to hide me.” 

“I'm not…” 

He pauses to think about it though. The dates in other towns so there's no chance of someone he knows seeing the two of you before he has a chance to tell his wife… The only spending nights at your place... Ok. He gets it.

“I'm sorry.” He can't say it enough. “It’s not like I want to hide you. You know that.” 

“Do I?” 

“I hope so.” He furrows his brow, letting a silence take over as he waits for your eyes to meet his. “I love you.” 

Your frown is still there even as your eyes light up a little, finally finding his. 

He leans to give you a soft kiss, repeating his words. “I love you. I mean that.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips. You kiss him back, your smile growing wider. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, closing the gap between your bodies with a hug. “The sneaking around was fun at first, but we can't keep doing it. It makes me feel like we're doing something wrong and we're not–”

“I know.” He's not the best with words, it's no secret. His hands rubbing your back is his best attempt at soothing away your worries right now. “I know.”

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby @cutedisneygrl

[reginalusus]

RAHHHHHH, just read Two-Face #1, finally. I was ripping my hair out because I didn't get it until TODAY despite pre-ordering it, so I have been avoiding my feed and tags on Tumblr and Bluesky like the plague since yesterday. I don't have much to say to be quite honest. It's so solid. But spoilery thoughts/panels under the cut just in case.

Ok, the only thing I am slightly hesitant about is the Lake Cantwell character. Initially, upon seeing early synopses, I was like, oh, boy, I hope this isn't a romantic interest. But she's not, hooray! She seems to idolize Harvey and I think it's cute that she wants to be like him, hopefully it stays like that. There is something endearing about her taking a fascination with the coin. Perhaps some sinister foreshadowing. I do love me some sinister foreshadowing. But then again, maybe it's not that.

OK, BUT ANYWAY, HARVEY IS SO GORGEOUS IN THIS COMIC. GNAWING. GOING CRAZY. Oh, my big-old-man, seasoned-criminal-loving heart is happy. God bless you, Fábio.

I think it's a very intriguing dynamic to have Harvey actually fake being Two-Face. There's something inherently sad yet terrifying about it because you just know that shit is gonna reach a boiling point. I love the detail of Scarvey wearing a prison jumpsuit, I love that Harvey hasn't been softened down; he's still violent, strong and takes no shit, but genuinely wants to return to his former good. Well, not 'former' good - the good is still there. But he can't quite reach it yet. Not fully. But how can he do that when his protective system is rotting inside him?

Ahhhhh, yes, yes, very good, enjoyed it a lot, yes, normal.

[thethreeeyed-raven]

saw you wanted people to send you opla zoro requests so I have one for you :)) may I request a opla zoro x fem reader where the reader maybe assumes that zoro and nami have something going on (yk that one scene where they're playing the drinking game and that chemistry they had) so she distances herself from zoro thinking he doesn't like her back when he does? I would really like some good old angst but ending it with fluff. (Maybe Zoro and the reader have an argument) Thank you so much!

serene

navigation | warnings : angst to fluff | a/n : tysm for your req, i enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading! | roronoa zoro playlist | tags : @fangsp1der-2099 , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @knight-of-flowerss

"Jealousy is not a good look on you."

You whipped your head around to see Usopp looking back at you, flashing a knowing smirk.

"What can I say, I'm an envious person." You shrugged nonchalantly.

Usopp made his way to stand next to you copying your stance of resting on the railing.

"It's not like it will have any affect, they both clearly have their own thing going on." You gestured glumly to Zoro and Nami who stood laughing amongst themselves.

What was she saying that was so funny anyway? You could make Zoro laugh more.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" Oh, Usopp.

You sighed and forced your gaze away from Zoro. "It's not that easy."

Though Zoro was a quiet person, that didn't mean he wasn't observant.

He'd noticed you'd been trying to avoid him, which was hard considering you lived on the same ship as him, and were on the same crew.

Zoro left it for a while, deciding not to speak up because he thought it was just a phase you were going through.

He took notice of your lingering looks when he spoke with Nami, but the thought of jealousy never crossed his mind.

Zoro wasn't the only observant member of the crew, Sanji and Nami noticed something was wrong with you.

Nami, Sanji and Zoro sat out on the deck underneath Nami's tiny tangerine trees.

Sanji took a puff of his cigarette before filling the silence. "Don't you think Y/n's been acting weird lately?"

Nami looked up from the map she was reading. "Yeah, I've noticed a little bit of tension." She swiftly looked at Zoro and back at Sanji.

"I saw that look." Zoro said bluntly.

Of course, Nami played dumb. "What look?"

"The one you just gave me."

Sanji huffed and shook his head. "Don't you think we should find out? She's our friend."

Both Zoro and Nami nodded.

Both Sanji and Nami tried so hard to get you to open up by pairing you with Zoro for various activities or jobs.

The plan worked for a while, you and Zoro would sit and chat for hours, only when Nami came would you go back to brooding.

Usopp seemed to catch on to Nami and Sanji's plan and told them of your feelings for Zoro and why you would slump every time Nami was around.

Zoro had his own suspicions of your strange behaviour, and decided he would confront you when the others weren't around.

Sighing, you knelt on the railing, gazing upon the vast blue sea.

"Can't sleep?" A deep voice interrupted the tranquil silence, but it was Zoro, so you didn't mind.

"Hmm, what about you?" You turned so you were facing him.

"Too much drink."

Both of you chuckled and your gaze returned to the horizon.

"I've...noticed" Zoro didn't plan exactly what he would say to you, so go with the flow it is. "You've been avoiding me."

"I haven't-"

"Is the problem with me or is it with Nami? Because every time she comes around, you start acting weird and-"

"Because I'm jealous!"

You didn't want to say anything else, so you let him stood there, just him and the stars to talk to.

Ever since that night, you'd been avoiding Zoro even more, almost as if you were afraid you'd catch the plague from him.

None of the crew knew what to do, and it wouldn't help that Zoro wouldn't explain why your behavior had gotten worse, even though they knew he knew something.

This was a job for Luffy.

Luffy found you on the goat head of the Going Merry, making his way over to sit with you.

"Are you alright?"

You turned with surprise, not expecting Luffy. "oh, hey Cap."

"Expecting someone else?" He gave you a dopey smile, adjusting his straw hat.

You shook your head.

"So, what's up with you?"

You huffed, but you could trust Luffy with everything, why not just admit it?

"I told Zoro I was jealous."

"Of?"

You took a minute to go over the thoughts in your head. "Of him and Nami. They're always laughing together and talking. I mean, me and Zoro would do that, but when he's with Nami it just looks..."

"Different?"

"Yeah..."

Luffy knew why you were jealous. "You should tell him how you feel."

Yeah, maybe you should.

"Hey Zoro." You approached him sheepishly.

His eyes widened just a little before greeting you in return.

"So, I came to apologise."

You took in his appearance before remembering why you were actually there.

"I'm sorry. You deserve to know. I was jealous of you and Nami. You both look so happy together and I wanted to be the one to make you smile and laugh like that. Because, unfortunately for me, I've fallen in love with you. And it's okay if you don't feel the same way, I'll understand and we can go back to our normal lives. But I needed you to know."

Instead of interrupting you, Zoro decided to stand and listen, to let you voice your feelings.

When you finished, you stood and gaped at him. Tears were brimming and your cheeks were aflame.

"I'm not good with words." Zoro admitted just a little embarrassed. "But...maybe my actions could help?"

He grabbed your face gently, caressing the redness of your cheeks with such tender strokes you could've melted.

It was when he pressed his lips to yours that your heart finally felt complete, and the weight of jealousy was lifted from your shoulders.

You both didn't say that you had feelings for the other, the serene kiss voiced everything it needed to.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Character Aesthetic Deep Dive Tag!

I created this tag in this post, and I want to do it again for another Scrapyard Boys OC of mine so here we go!

Rules: Make a moodboard with your character's aesthetic, a playlist that fits their vibe, "badly summarize them" (like, talk about their personality, but funnily), etc. It absolutely does not need to be super detailed!!!!!

✦ Character Aesthetic: Maxwell Cymbelline, WIP -Scrapyard Boys

♡ Moodboard ♡

♡ Playlist ♡

Not All Heroes Wear Capes - Owl City

He doesn't fight crime Or wear a cape He doesn't read minds Or levitate But every time my world needs saving He's my Superman Some folks don't believe in heroes 'Cause they haven't met my dad He loves his workshop And rock 'n roll He's got a hot rod And a heart of gold And you could say he's a man of few words But he talks a lot within And even though I'm a little taller I still look up to him

Could Have Been Me - The Struts

Don't wanna live as an untold story Rather go out in a blaze of glory I can't hear you, I don't fear you I'll live now 'cause the bad die last Dodging bullets with your broken past Well, I can't hear you, I don't fear you now Wrapped in your regret What a waste of blood and sweat Oh oh-oh I wanna taste love and pain Wanna feel pride and shame I don't wanna take my time Don't wanna waste one line I wanna live better days Never look back and say It could have been me It could have been me, yeah

Burn The House Down - AJR

Used to keep it cool Used to be a fool All about the bounce in my step Watch it on the news Whatcha gonna do? I could hit refresh and forget Used to keep it cool Should I keep it light? Stay out of the fight? No one's gonna listen to me If I write a song Preaching what is wrong Will they let me sing on TV? Should I keep it light? Is that right? Way up way up we go Been up and down that road Way up way up, oh no We gon' burn the whole house down

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart - Taylor Swift

'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die He said he'd love me all his life But that life was too short Breaking down, I hit the floor All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "More" I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three, four) I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day I'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague I cry a lot but I am so productive, it's an art You know you're good when you can even do it With a broken heart

Gone, Gone, Gone - Phillip Phillips

When life leaves you high and dry I'll be at your door tonight If you need help, if you need help I'll shut down the city lights I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bribe To make you well, to make you well When enemies are at your door I'll carry you way from war If you need help, if you need help Your hope dangling by a string I'll share in your suffering To make you well, to make you well Give me reasons to believe That you would do the same for me And I would do it for you, for you Baby, I'm not moving on I'll love you long after you're gone For you, for you You will never sleep alone I'll love you long after you're gone And long after you're gone, gone, gone

♡ Badly Summarized OC ♡

Seemingly delicate, polite teenager who loves vintage stuff but can actually pack a punch and is not afraid of a fight - in fact... she rather likes a good bit of chaos

Certified Daddy's Little Girl

That one friend that strangers think is the "Responsible One" but is actually a main Source Of Chaos in the friend group

Feral gremlin of a girl and unashamed, will watch the goriest and intense horror movies while having a girl's night with her friends and painting her nails different colors

Enabler of Bad Decisions who never thinks things through and then gets like "well, went horrifyingly out of control.... LET'S DO IT AGAIN!"

Worst driver in the history of drivers but is trying her best <3

Human embodiment of both an orange cat and a hyperactive border collie in one body

Would practically collect stray puppies and kittens like Pokémons if her current doggo wasn't jealous of every other animal in the world

Likes cereal without the milk. This has nothing to do with anything, but I think its a relevant fact of her personality lol

Tagging (gently): @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@the-golden-comet, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@thecomfywriter

@topazadine, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes

and OPEN TAG

Taglist for Scrapyard Boys below the cut 🧪

Scrapyard Boys Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @lyutenw @finickyfelix

@thecomfywriter, @the-letterbox-archives, @differentnighttale

@wyked-ao3

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[itlogricky]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇.

Itoshi Rin x Reader.

basically just angst.

You spent a lot of time trying to improve yourself so that Rin would find you great, but you eventually come to the conclusion that you have been good enough.

You strive to push yourself harder for Rin's sake, thinking that you're only deserving of his undivided attention if you're at your best. But despite your efforts and accomplishments, he seems unaware of your development.

"Just let me wave to you, not wave goodbye.. Let me stay by your side.."

you silently said. He doesn't answer, hes too busy focusing on his matches. You begin to wonder if Rin is even aware of your emotions because he rarely acknowledges them until he needs something from you. As long as your fears go unrestrained, your insecurity increases.

You make an effort to approach their romantic interests, but you always feel as like you are being yanked away, and your chances of success are fading.

Your constant effort to capture his attention makes you feel helpless and as like you're constantly in danger of losing his favor. You gradually get desperate as a result of his chilly and distant demeanor.

"Don't let me go back to darkness of blue."

The amount of work required to continually prove your worth to Rin makes you feel confined and overburdened. The more you attempt to keep up with him, the more you feel alone and depressed since he never appears to notice the suffering you're through.

You put all of your heart into trying to be good enough so that Rin will like you, but it seems like your efforts are in vain. You become even more alone and estranged from him as a result of this. The blue darkness begins to gradually envelop you as you continue to fail to be noticed and valued by him.

The idea that Rin would never genuinely see and love you begins to plague you as your anxieties take over. Despite all your efforts, you don't seem to be getting any closer to earning his affection.

you want nothing more, nothing more...your just..good enough.

You can't help but feel like you'll never be enough for Rin after so many unsuccessful efforts. Despite your best efforts, you constantly seem to fall short. You question whether it is really worthwhile to try any more when he is constantly so cold and aloof. You feel worthless and alone in the face of his indifference.

as he broke up with you, leaving you to darkness of blue, it felt like the dark sea filled with sadness.

As you give in to your anguish about losing Rin, the darkness envelops you. You begin to doubt yourself more and more as a result of wondering if you really were as useless as he constantly treated you.

If you can still recall, you were shifting position while reaching for,the place Rin and you are familiar with seems so far away. Where he'll encircle my heart with his arms. Additionally, keep you warm all night.

Rin's passion with winning at all costs dominates his thoughts. He is totally committed to his game, striving to be the best and avoiding distractions. His feelings are subdued, and he is just focused on winning. He can't or doesn't care if he hurts people since he is unaware of how his cold and distant demeanor affects those around him.

His heart is focused on a single objective, and nothing, not even you, can get in the way of that.

In the face of impossibly high standards and the need to live up to the expectations of the person you love, you tried to accept yourself for who you are. one of accepting oneself and accepting one's flaws, perhaps you're simply too...𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝.

A/N : its almost 3 am here and i'm still awake lol, this story is inspired by xdinary heroes by their song Good enough. Thank you for reading.

Tags!1!1!1! : @0rah-s

[endless-weightless]

Can I request headcannons for breeding with Ifrit and a female reader please

ANOTHER REQUEST YYAYAYAYAY! I love Ifrit so much you have no idea how happy this makes me.

A few hcs are pinched from my old nameless ghoul hc post teehee

TAGS/WARNINGS: Breeding kink ofc, switchy Ifrit, slight corruption?, loss of virginity (reader), some mating cycle ones because I clearly like writing that lol, slight exhibitionism, slight pregnancy kink

Since ghoul's have heightened senses, Ifrit can always pick up on any scent coming from anyone. When he first met you, the scent of virginity and unmated territory was fucking overwhelming.

He avoided you like the plague for the first few weeks of knowing each other because of how overpowering his need to mate you and impregnate you was.

After every encounter with you he always found himself quickly slipping away to jack off because your scent was just so intoxicating.

The first time he picked up on you ovulating was absolute hell because it also happened to be a full moon.

He tried to stay away from you, he really did, but you just smelled so sweet and the primal urge to fuck a baby into you was too strong.

Long story short, he found you in an empty room in the ministry and quickly pinned you to the wall and made sure he was very clear about what he was feeling.

"You need to tell me to go right now if you don't want this because if you say yes I'm not gonna be gentle. Do you know how long I've been waiting to fuck you until you were filled with my offspring?"

The second you consented was game over. He didn't care you were in a room anyone could walk into, your scent and the full moon was just too much.

He growled all sorts of things into your ear about filling you up with his seed, how you'd look so good carrying his children and how he was going to fuck you all night.

But when he's in rut? It's completely different.

He'll quietly sulk around the den during the days leading up to it and once it fully hits him he'll be putty in your hands. His once confident and dominant demeanour will be no more.

If you ask him what's wrong he'll just look up at you with his big, pupil-blown, pitiful eyes and ask you in the softest voice to fuck him.

"Please, Y/N, I need you fuck me right now."

No matter what he'll always have you riding him or in a mating press. Riding because he's obsessed with your tits and seeing your hips and likes thinking about how hot you'll look pregnant and the mating press because it's in the name.

If you do ever get pregnant he'll be very quick to become protective of you and almost violent at anyone that comes near you.

He also won't give two flying fucks that your pregnant and "too bloated" or "not pretty enough" to have sex with. He thinks you look just as, if not even more hot.

If you really don't want to have regular piv sex he'll be more than willing to just eat you out for as long as you need to take your mind off of the back pain from carrying his child.

Unrelated to the whole kinky stuff I just wrote but I think he'd make a wonderful dad.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Thanks for reading!

[bravo4iscool]

they won’t settle for a ‘crybaby’ or whatever because it’s fucking cringe if you’re like that when you’re an adult (sorry not sorry). and they’d definitely not settle for a ‘controversially younger partner’.

I agree with you that this isn't realistic at all and I personally avoid these types of fics like the plague but also people can write what they want. It's honestly more cringe to get so heated over this and to tell people how they should or shouldn't write their fics. People can express themselves through fanfiction any way they like. Start blocking writers you dislike instead of indirectly shaming them in the x reader tag. This is incredibly entitled behavior tbh.

my goal wasn‘t to shame any writer and as i‘ve already said responding to another ask:

i've never-and never will-harass any creator or whatever for what they post; i don't like, i don't read, but it's a very thin line people who write stuff with a literal child-like reader walk.

it's just a thing i noticed that i think should be-maybe-looked at critically. in the end of the day people always write what they want, it's just that i think it's very dangerous territory...

the extract you quoted in your ask was beyond uncalled for and i apologise for my words, that wasn‘t okay. i am aware that there are people who struggle with crying, etc. it wasn‘t my intention to attack those people. however, my opinion about these type of fics stays the same.

i‘m well aware that my post won‘t stop people or whatever, it‘s just a thing that i think should—sometimes—be frowned upon. i‘m not getting heated over it or anything, it‘s just a thing i dislike in fandoms in general. i know the post suggests otherwise and i would like to apologise for that.

the thing is, many of those fics promote/normalise pedophilia and rape culture, which is simply not okay. as already said in the original post: realism sucks at times but there are fics/moments where it shouldn't be ignored.

[pynkgothicka]

Ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ Ｙａｎｄｅｒｅ ＧＯＷ Ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎｓ

Synopsis - Just some general Headcanons for one of my favorite game series and characters!!

Tags and Warnings - Harm Towards the Reader, that's all I got.

Authors Note - THIS IS SO CRINGE (please don't unfollow me I'm going through a phase (I'm working on BTS reqs rn I swear))

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Kratos

Literally is known for killing, and will gladly do it again

Your like family to him and he's seen too many of those he considered family betray him and die

Pre Norse Kratos would be at his absolute worst peak. Any little thing would result in someone else dying.

Looked at you wrong? Cut in Half.

Someone told you something? Eyes Gouged out.

And the worst someone did to you the more serious Kratos would punish them, or really kill them.

His rage is met with something that calms him, makes him feel grounded, aka you.

But my god is he gentle with you, no matter what. He touches you almost like you'd break if he used anymore force.

Even with the little words he uses when talking to you, he truly loves and cares for you. All he wants is for that love to be recognized and given back to him.

But one thing for sure, Kratos kidnaps you. Just to keep you in his sights and a place he knows and can see you whenever

Post Norse Kratos is much more pleasant to be around. He's more stern, more calm, much more approachable, even if needing a much more deeper urge too.

Plus if your good with Atreus, that only makes things better. He sees that maternal aspect in you instantly

However no matter what he keeps is past closer off to you because he doesn't want you to think any different of him.

(HE LOVES BIG WOMEN GUYS I SAID IT. HE GOT TOO. (all his dead wives are skinny (let me be delusional)))

You yelled out running into the middle of of snow. It was freezing cold but you couldn't stop anytime soon. Or else you'd be trapped back in that house, never to see the light of day.

You heard him.

Heavy, labored breaths behind you.

You ducked down behind a rock, trying to slow your breathing. This was hopeless, but you had to Atleast try. Maybe Freya would help you or something, she does a have a thing against your captor.

“Do you wish to die out here.”

A hand went to your mouth, refusing to give in to the fear that overtook you.

“You cannot survive the cold. Come back. Do you not want to be home? With us?”

His footsteps grew louder, he knew what he was. He was intimidating, scary, deep down a killer.

And did he know how to use those aspects to his advantage.

A hand grabbed at your ankle and you were pulled up by your foot. You made direct eye contact with the wall of muscle that you'd grown to fear. His breathing was labored but he took a deep breath in, and sling you over onto his shoulder.

“We are to talk about this later. Understand?”

All you could do was sob silently and nod your head.

Freya

Man when I tell you shes reminded of what love feels like, she is reminded hard.

She's already broken, having almost everything taken away from her by Odin. But you mend those tears in her soul, binding them shut with your mere existence.

Freya would've instantly been drawn to you, seeing as all you wish to do is care for the people around you, being free from Odin's eye, as your inconsequential to him

She would grow to envy your freedom, as you traveled the realms as freely as you wished. Your absence would plague her, growing to be that without you she feels empty.

And it gets worse after Bauldur dies.

Once he's gone you flee quickly seeing what she's turned into. Fueled by rage and regret, she would have these outbursts of just heavy emotion. And so you left, avoiding Midgard at all costs.

It wouldn't be long until she finds you, being free from her curse. Freya would tackle you to the ground and capture you, vowing go nrver let you out of her sights again.

And she doesn't, she wants you to either be locked up and with her. And majoirty of the time it's with her. She wants a new spouse, someone to actually call her love and mean it.

“There you are!”

You were tackled to the ground, bound by vines that were never apart of the vegetation of the realm you called home.

The sight of a angered Freya came into view as your eyes opened. Her breathing was labored as she moved her hands, the vines still keeping you stuck. Her hands came to your cheek and you winced at her cold touch. A paled man stood over in the distance watching silently.

“Your just as beautiful as the day you left…” She mumbled to herself bringing your attention back to her. Freya's hands pressed against your cheeks as she leaned in, kissing your forehead passionately. The action almost mimicked a mother, trying to clam her new born baby.

But this wasn't the situation for that.

“Freya please we can tal-”

“So you know how much you hurt me?! You left me alone. Alone with my thoughts, I spiraled without you.” She yelled at you. This is one of the reasons you left in the first place, her mood can switch so easily. “But that's in the past, and all I care for is the future. One where you and me spend eternity together.”

Atreus (But in a platonic crushing way cause ya know he a minor)

He's crazy, literally whipped for you. He's considers you to be his best friend, and does a bunch of harmless flirting.

Of course he thinks your pretty, one of the prettiest people he's ever encountered and has he seen some things. But he knows that staying friends keeps him happier, and less stressed

Being a mortal really didn't help your case, if anything it made Atreus more protective of you and your safety.

Any situation he deemed to dangerous and unsafe for you, he'd make you stay behind (he takes after his father a lot.)

You often are the subject to which he vents too, it's rather unintentional, everything that's happened and is currently happening to him is just so stressful. And god knows he couldn't vent to his father or Sindri.

He has this thing for showing you the world through his eyes. Like he'll tell you what animals are saying and how they're just like him and you. The beauty of nature is something he just has to show you

One thing that's worrisome is how impulsive he is. He's so quick to stand his guard and protect you when it comes to you and your safety. Key example is Heimdall, in which he never liked. Atreus hates how the blonde talks to you, in fact he would immediately pull out the wolf when Heimdall even mentions you.

Off note, Atreus will bring you to Asgard with him. No matter what you say he'll want you to be there with him. His excuse is that you'd make a great duo, but in reality he doesn't want to be alone.

“What is wrong with you!? Your trying or at least considering to go to Asgard?!” You yelled once inside of Freya's abandoned house.

“Its the next best lead I have. But I need you to go with me, I can't do it alone.” Atreus said as if it was the most simple thing ever. You furrowed your brows at the half god.

“Let me break it down for you. I'm a mortal. A mortal in a realm built for gods? Yeah your fucking crazy. Oh let me add this. I'm a child, your a child, WE'RE CHILDREN!"

“I'd say young adults, shit maybe teenagers. But the thing is we have to, we have to save my dad.” Atreus tried to reason with you.

“Since when is it a WE thing? Atreus this is your prophecy not mine. Hell not even Atreus, this is Loki's prophecy."

“Wait don't go I need you!”

“Goodbye Loki.”

“No!” He yelled before shooting a arrow at your arm, cut forming at your forearm. You hissed out and grabbed at the wound, the cold hitting your blood. “Your not going anywhere hurt like that. Step out there and the cold will infect the wound. If you come with me, Odin can heal you.”

“I'm-”

“Make a choice.”

“Fine. I'll go….”

[oscconfessions]

Hey hey, friendly reminder to everyone who draws humanizations/gijinkas of objects to make sure that you tag your stuff as such!! Other people who are interested in that content can find your artwork much easier that way, allowing them to appreciate the art and maybe share or compare their designs with yours. Some artists are already doing this but every now and then I see an untagged post that the creator forgot or didn't know to tag. It would really help community engagement on all media of humanized objects and it would really help me block out as much of it as possible.

Yeah, I'm the same anon who wrote the "I absolutely hate humanized objects" confession. I got so sick of seeing art of them that I used the tag filter system for the very first time on this website. I had thought I was free, that I would never look at another object gijinka on Tumblr, but I was mistaken. Unfortunately, half of the people who draw the stuff don't properly tag it for some inexplicable reason, so I was unable to fully escape viewing these objects tragically changed into homo sapiens. For some even more unexplainable reason, there isn't a widely used catch-all tag for object humanizations in general, so you have to add several different tag filters for each individual object show. This is inane, and it's driving me insane!! There is no way to truly avoid this type of media without ceasing to look at object show fanart entirely. I really love seeing the things this fandom makes so I don't want to do that, and I think using the right tags would help both people who like and dislike humanized objects. If members of this community regularly tag this stuff better they might enjoy their creations a bit more, and I will definitely enjoy not being constantly plagued by it.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for turning my first ask about this into a copypasta, I suppose??

.

[mamuzzy]

MAMUZZY READS HARD CONTACT: Introduction

Hey All, remember when I vented about how I will start my own re-reading because I'm annoyed about the existing fan-takes over this series, discouraging new fans to engage?

Now it's happening!!!! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

This one is an Introduction post about my personal thoughts before actually starting, not an actual chapter.

I don't have a specific agenda on what I want to achieve with this blogging, other than I want to share my thoughts with you, share my enthusiasm, collecting favorite or thought-inducing quotes, hunting for lore (clone, jedi, mando, kaminoan and character lore in general) and most importantly: thirsting over my favorite blorbos.

Maybe a bit want to counter all that negativity that surrounds this fandom with providing a different perspective.

Is this a masterpiece? Probably not. Do I enjoy it? HELL YEAH. And in the end, this is what counts.

I won't tag this as pro-jedi, or anti-jedi, or [insert a name/faction/author here]-critical or similiar kind of fandom faction fuckery. Only a Sith deals in absolutes.

But before reading it, I wanted to share some thoughts...

-- About Critical Thinking... --

My first reading of the books happened without the influence of knowing anything about the author and I avoided repcomm side of tumblr like a plague. I didn't want the author's personal worldview or the existing factions on the internet influence me in any way while reading.

I think this helped me completely immerse in the story itself and not just looking it through a glass wall like an outsider under peer-pressure and with a strict community guide how is allowed to engage with the books otherwise you will be called names.

If you follow me through, I still encourage you to read it yourself so you can form your own opinion. But don't forget, you can always put down a book if you end up not liking it.

Everyone interpret the books differently: enjoyment or hatred depends on different life experiences, how old are you, what culture are you from, and often what opinions have you heard before about the said media. Sometimes it's just about basic reading comprehension (or the lack of it).

Critical thinking is not "skipping 20 pages because it contains Kal Skirata who is a shitty person and it taints you if you read". Critical thinking is able to form an opinion outside of the existing factions influences and resisting peer-pressure and being open minded for new information.

I'm just a random dude on the internet who will share you with his experiences about the books. But that is just one part of the truth. Just as an anti have their own truth. You will have your own truth.

But Mamuzzy, how can you be so gullible! This book is a bad representation to [insert a group here]! It conveys the wrong message!

What do you do with the wrong messages? You follow it through like it's some kind of ultimate truth anyway?

If you need fiction to hold your hand and tell you that you shouldn't treat your friends/family/partner/pets bad, the problem is not in the fiction, the problem is in YOU. If you feel you can act shitty toward people because that one fiction validated your urge to hurt people, the fault is not in the fiction but in YOU.

In the end of the day only that matters how do you behave with a living, breathing person in front of you.

-- Republic Commando IS A FANFICTION --

Bear in mind that mostly every written Star Wars book is a published fanfiction. Treat Republic Commando as such.

-- Star Wars is a fairy tale. RepComm is not. --

The Original Triology is a fairy tale. Good guys with blue lightsabers beating the bad buys with red lightsabers who hurt people and destroy planets and in the end good guys win. The roles are established. You know who to root for, you are spoon-feed with the narrative.

Republic Commando is not a fairy tale. Mando'a doesn't have a word for heroes, and this book doesn't have heroes either. Just people.

Protagonists =/= Heroes with unquestionable morals.

Am I supposed to root for THESE PEOPLE?

You are not obligated to do anything. Just know that this is not a traditional hero's journey story.

In my reading this story is about broken and lost people trying to find their place in the world while trying not to die. A literal found-family story.

-- About Jedi lore --

Karen Traviss doesn't make it a secret questioning the jedi about handling the whole war situation, about handling the clones, about being the puppets of the Senate/Sheev Palpatine and with it, Darth Sidious. But the conflicts and hostility between the Mandalorians and the Jedi are not Karen Traviss' invention.

Her characters are mostly Mandalorians who have grudge against the JEDI ORDER as a faction, and other characters who are influenced by mandalorian culture.

In the prequels, the Jedi Order is introduced like any other religious cult with govermental support behind them and George Lucas uses the same black-and-white thesises in this grey area. Darth Sidious didn't destroy the jedi with his sith force powers. He could destroy the jedi because he was damn effective politican and a master manipulatior who found the perfect pawns to execute his plans. That's my take on the jedi order in the prequels.

Also note that Karen Traviss' lore about the Jedi and the Force is completely different from George Lucas' thesises about the Star Wars universe.

I'll try and point it out these differences as we are advancing through the chapters.

-- No inhibitor chips in RepComm --

Inhibitor chips don't exist in Republic Commando universe and the concept wasn't introduced until The Clone Wars series. The troopers are very well aware of the 150 Contingency Orders, including Order 66.

Throughout my reading, comments and thoughts are appreciated! I'm open for conversation ^^

Because this is the first time I'm doing such thing, I can't say how much time I need to process a chapter, but I plan to do at least 1 chapter/week so I won't neglect my other hobbies, while surviving my increasing workhours as I go into the summer. :D

See you soon at Prologue + Chapter 1! (* ^ ω ^)

[thegothicviking]

TW: Mention of suicidal thoughts

__________

Lost another friend due to me being "high "maintenance"...although I don't feel like I am?

I guess I nagged too much on her and she didn't think that not wishing me "happy birthday" was a big deal, when I personally think birthdays are important. Clash in personalities I guess.

I'm just glad that we didn't have that much in common (although she told me she was Asperger too and she was the only physical friend in a long while that I had a mutual fave band with, Bauhaus,) but we weren't even friends for a whole year so it's not that much of a loss I guess. I might have ONE "in real life" friend left now. ONE that I can still visit. But I feel like she is gradually withdrawing herself too. She is never the first to contact me to ask to hang out...

To be honest, I feel empty and tired of trying. I feel I need to "keep a lid on myself"/wear a mask now as I always end up being too enthuastic about a new friendship right from the start. This enthusiasm is scaring them away. So I'll try to keep it more "low profile" but this last physical friend, but it's hard when you have endured so many years of bullying and finally get to talk to someone face to face. Of course I get excited! It's like a starving man finally get access to food for the first time in a long time! He ends up eating too much and too fast. Just like I end up nagging and pushing...

I guess I just haven't found my type of people yet. And I honestly don't think I will, at least not here in Norway...

It has only been a week since I returned from Dresden and Leipzig..and my suicidal thoughts are already back. I returned from being surrounded by likeminded people..being able to express themselves and dress how they wanted to!

And then returning to..."normal people"...everyone looks the same..everyone is talking about the same mundane things.. It's eating me from the inside!

I wanted to be honest with anyone who is willing to read this: the mental health care system in Norway is a joke. They will straight up tell you that "because you are suicidal/have suicidal thoughts...this and this program won't work for you" and then they let you leave without even trying to recommend or place you into some other option of therapy or help. It's like they literally want you to just... die.

Here at home: I honestly feel like that person that stinks..or have some sinister mark on them. As if I have the plague and everyone avoids me..and I am blissfully unaware that I stink..or have the plague..and so I try to run towards the pretty people and I always have to try and chase them because they keep on running away from me. And I am blissfully unaware that I am meant to be shunned/shooed away. That I don't belong.

Ever since I was 6-7 years old and wrote in a stupid "friendship book" (which I now honestly believe is cursed)..all of my then friends who have ever written in it, are no longer my friends and in the beginning of the book I was supposed to write or draw whatever I wanted in life (as an introduction to the owner of the book/me).

As a 6-7 year old I could have written or drawn the most insane of things! Ask a child what they want and they can answer anything from a pony to a million in cash or a whole mountain made of candy..

And what did I write/draw? What was I wishing for? From anything in the world what did I want?

"Friends." ("Venner").

I draw two girls chasing each other in a tag-game. And I wrote "Venner" ("Friends").

And now, over 20 years later...that wish is sadly still relevant.

I really want to go on..but I am so tired.

If I didn't have my fic series...something I feel like I HAVE TO complete (out of spite or because hate to have any project unfullfilled). If I didn't have that... I'm sure I would have been 6 feet under now...or have had my ashed tossed into the sea.

I have no therapist...I wasn't allowed to keep him..and besides my family I don't have anyone to vent too. This is why I make this long post now. As to make you all my followers/mutuals aware that.. I might give up one day. I don't believe suicide is selfish. I believe you should be allowed to end it all if everything seems hopeless. I just wanted to vent. I just wanted you all to know...

I am grasping the last strands here. I am trying my best to keep on...but please don't be mad/angry if I decide to give up. I have fought these thoughts for 21 years now... Don't be mad at me if I'm too tired to keep on fighting. But I will give you a sign. I will let you know..if I decide to give up.

[cosmicanamnesis]

he tastes like chocolate pt. 5

[part 1] [part 4] [part 6] [read on ao3]

“Sorry about this,” Eddie said again, pulling out of the parking lot behind their work building.

“Hey, don’t be. It’s something to do, right?” The way Steve was smiling at him was so unbearably kind, Eddie could practically feel his heart beating in his throat. Running errands for his uncle wasn’t how he’d hoped the evening would go, but Steve really didn’t seem to mind.

Really, Eddie could have said anything and Steve would be just as eager to tag along. Steve was trying so hard to act normal and not like he would follow this almost-stranger to the ends of the earth if he’d asked. So far, so good, he thought. But god, his heart was beating so fast he thought it might explode. Hopefully the mundanity of grocery shopping would help him level himself out. They were just hanging out, Steve told himself. That didn’t mean anything. He shouldn’t read too much into Eddie buying him dinner. Maybe the guy was just nice. After all, he was buying all his coworkers coffee every day. Yeah. He was just… Nice.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Lil Buddy:

did you find out what time your party is?

Yeah, he said it’s at 7. And he’s picking me up, so I might not actually be able to get to your place.

Sorry dude.

hey, don’t worry about it. I already said it was fine, didn’t I?

Yeah, you did. Don’t have too much fun without me, okay?

And don’t get injured, because I won’t be able to drive you to the hospital.

lol

"Who’re you talking to?" Eddie said, glancing over. "Did that say lil buddy?"

Steve laughed, slipping his phone back in his pocket. "The wingman," he explained. "They're doing a party at his place tomorrow, too. Just had to tell him I can't make it."

"Oh! You should've said something, Steve, you don't have to come with me-"

"You asked me first, dude. I see the kid all the time. I can hang out with him whenever."

"Alright, if you're sure."

"Why, you regret inviting me now or something?" Steve laughed, as if that wasn't the actual anxious thought that had been plaguing his brain the whole time.

"No! What? Definitely not. I'm really excited for you to come, seriously," Eddie was smiling, glancing quickly between Steve and the road. "I just… Wanted to make sure you knew you weren't, like, contractually obligated, if, y'know, you have something better to do."

"Trust me when I tell you, this is the something better."

Eddie could feel his face turning bright red. Thank god it was dark. 

Finally they pulled into the grocery store parking lot. It was a bit out of the way, further than Steve normally went to go shopping, so he figured Eddie must live close by.

"It's fine if you wanna just wait here, I won't be long-" Eddie said, parking the van close to the building.

"You're kidding, right?" Steve asked. Eddie just shrugged. "It's just the grocery store, dude, it's not like you're dragging me along to rob a bank or something."

"Suit yourself."

Steve followed Eddie around the small grocery store as Eddie repeatedly checked the text Wayne had eventually sent him with the grocery list. Stuff like paper towels and bread and beer and cereal, normal stuff. It reminded Steve that, oh yeah, he and Robin were out of peanut butter, and god knows how long he’d have to be out, he may as well grab a snack for the road too. Eddie glanced over at him, smiling.

“You can put your stuff in my cart, if you want,” he giggled, watching Steve struggle with the armload of things he ended up accumulating as they meandered through the store.

“Oh! Um, thanks,” Steve stepped up closer to the cart and Eddie helped him set things in the little baby seat to keep them separate. 

“I was gonna wait for you to ask,” Eddie said, still laughing lightly. “But uh… You’re pretty stubborn, aren’t you?”

It was Steve’s turn to laugh, pointedly avoiding making eye contact with Eddie.

“Yeah, I guess. That’s what people have told me, at least.”

“I’d believe it.”

Okay, so the grocery shopping wasn’t really helping as much as Steve had hoped it would. Somehow even the painfully mundane was fun just by virtue of doing it with Eddie. Steve watched as he drummed out beats on the shelves while he searched for the stuff on Wayne’s list and rode the cart down empty aisles.

Eddie knew he was being kinda weird, but it was making Steve smile. He was so aware of Steve looking at him the entire time, and it was making him nervous, and that was the one way he knew how to handle it. It worked like a charm on stage, and it seemed to be doing just fine here, too.

Eventually, with everything paid for and loaded into the back seat of the van, Eddie shot his uncle one last text that they were on their way and to please be wearing people clothes when they got home, and made the quick drive the rest of the way back to his place.

As Eddie pulled into the trailer park, he monitored Steve for any kind of reaction, any sign of surprise that Eddie lived where he lived. But if Steve gave a damn, he didn't show it.

They pulled up in front of Wayne's trailer and Eddie killed the engine as Steve got out and started grabbing bags, helping him unload.

God he was too sweet. Eddie just wanted to-

"So this is the mysterious Steve, huh?" a voice called from the trailer across the way. Steve jumped at the sound of his name. A man they hadn’t noticed until then was smoking on his own porch, dressed only in a bathrobe despite the weather. Eddie huffed.

"Good night, Murray," he yelled back, quickly grabbing the last bags and slamming the van door behind him as Steve made his way up to the porch.

"You didn't say he was-"

"Good NIGHT, Murray!" Eddie yelled louder, cutting him off. Their brief conversation seemed to summon Wayne to the door, fortunately for the boys who both had their arms loaded with groceries.

“You must be Eddie’s uncle,” Steve said, halfheartedly introducing himself as Wayne held the screen door open for the boys to bring the bags into the house.

“You must be Steve,” Wayne answered, looking at Eddie before peeking outside to see Murray giving him a small wave.

“Didn’t realize I was famous around here,” Steve laughed as he quickly found his way to the kitchen and dipped down to set his bags on the floor. Eddie followed in quickly behind him.

“You’re not, I swear,” he said, setting down the bags he’d carried in. “Murray and Wayne just don’t know how to mind their own business,” he spat, staring pointedly at Wayne.

Wayne raised his eyebrows slightly, almost smiling as he sipped from a mug of coffee that seemed to have materialized in his hand out of nowhere. 

"Susan's in on it, too," Wayne muttered, just low enough that Eddie could hear but Steve couldn't. Eddie groaned. It felt childish, grumbling like Wayne was ruining his life or something. He was an adult, damn it, he didn't need the neighborhood Olds speculating on his friends and his love life. 

"You gonna help your boy put groceries away or what?" Wayne asked, gesturing with his coffee to something behind Eddie. He whipped around to find, sure enough, Steve had started putting away anything that went in the fridge.

"He's not my boy," Eddie hissed, grabbing a bag to unload. God he hoped Steve couldn't hear them. He hoped what Nancy had said, about the concussions and the swimmer's ear affecting his hearing, would work in his favor just this once.

"Sure, son." Wayne nodded and turned, presumably making his way back to his recliner and his soap operas. Eddie rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the groceries.

"You have a cat?" Steve asked, excitement bubbling under his words.

"Huh? No?" Eddie turned and looked where Steve was looking. Steve looked at him confused and lightly kicked a bag of cat food leaning against the wall. Eddie started laughing. Steve still looked confused. "Oh! No, it's, um… It's for the uh, resident wildlife. Mostly stray cats, but also, y'know, raccoons and shit. Keeps 'em out of the garbage."

"Huh. Clever," Steve nodded. Eddie knew they did some real white trash shit, not the least of which being feeding the raccoons, and he usually didn't care if people knew. Steve, though… He didn't want to seem any weirder in front of Steve than he was sure he already did. 

He didn't expect Steve to think it was clever.

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

Steve started looking closer at the stuff on the fridge, slightly disappointed that he didn't get to pet a cat. Though, he figured, if he played his cards right he might get to see a raccoon up close. That'd be neat.

There was actually stuff on their fridge door, which was a relatively new concept for Steve. Back home, his parents wouldn't be caught dead doing that sort of thing. Robin got him in on doing communal schedules and grocery lists on a whiteboard on the fridge, and magnetic poetry which he wasn't any good at, but it was a good laugh. But here? Novelty magnets shaped like vegetables and fish held up business cards and take-out menus, a power bill he assumed was already paid because it was from September and the lights were still on.

There was a handful of mismatched number and letter magnets, mostly spread haphazardly around the fridge door except for one group that crookedly read F UCK TH C0P S that made Steve giggle out loud. His favorite thing, though, was all the pictures of Eddie and Wayne.

Some of them were Eddie's school pictures throughout the years. Two looked like they were from a camping trip: one, a silhouette of Wayne fishing off a dock at either sunrise or sunset, Steve couldn't tell. The other was Eddie, sitting on a rock, tuning a guitar by firelight. One picture had a lot of people in it, clearly taken in the middle of the trailer park. Eddie and some boys Steve didn't know seemed to be engaging in a sword fight with lit sparklers. There was an old picture of Wayne from what must have been his college days.

Steve's favorite was, of course, a picture of Eddie. He was small, hair buzzed short, wearing a paper crown that must have said something like Happy Birthday on it. He was smiling big and open-mouthed at the camera, showing off a missing bottom tooth. At the bottom edge of the photo, partially cut off, was a birthday cake with a lit number 8 candle.

"What are you over there smiling at?" Eddie asked, closing a cupboard and coming up behind Steve. Steve tapped the birthday photo. "Oh good lord, just kill me," Eddie grimaced, immediately moving his hand to cover the picture. Steve laughed and swatted his hand away halfheartedly.

"Aw, come on, Eddie. It's cute! My parents never put this kind of shit on the fridge."

"Really?" Eddie recoiled, looking legitimately shocked. "Thought everybody's parents did mushy garbage like this."

"Not everybody. I mean, don't get me wrong, they had pictures of all of us kids framed around the house but we never got to put stuff on the fridge. Mom said it was uh…" Low class. "It looked messy."

"Huh. Weird… You've got siblings?"

"You sound surprised."

"I mean. I dunno, you kinda struck me as a fellow only child."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve laughed, crossing his arms to feign indignance.

"Nothing! Swear. How many siblings do you have? Where are you in the order?"

"Uh, Jesus. Six, all older. I'm the baby-"

"Actually that makes more sense," Eddie cut him off.

"-but the next youngest is ten years older than me, so I didn't really grow up with them, per se."

Eddie smacked himself on the forehead.

"THAT'S what it is," he yelled, jokingly stumbling backwards at the force of his own blow. "God, seven of you? I'd never survive. How old are your parents?"

"Oh, don't ask me that, you're gonna make me sound like a terrible son."

Eddie cackled as Steve nervously ran his hands through his hair.

"Nah, that's fine. I don't know how old Wayne is, either."

"I'm thirty!" Wayne yelled indignantly from the other side of the trailer.

"Like fuck you are, old man!" Eddie yelled back, making them all laugh.

Steve felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out to check. Text from Robin.

"Huh…" Steve huffed, unlocking his phone as another text came in.

"Is that Robin? Did she strike out already?" Eddie chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back against the kitchen counter. Steve shrugged.

dont know what ur doing but u have an hour to come get anything u need from the house

vix is staying the night n u know what that means

;) ;) ;)

"Oh. That makes more sense," he said, sucking his teeth, slipping his phone back into his pocket without replying. "Um. Do you mind if I crash here tonight?"

Realization dawned on Eddie's face and he cackled, giving one loud clap before he doubled over.

"Go Robin!" he cheered as he caught his breath, wiping stray tears from his eyes. "Yeah, you can stay here."

"Thanks. Could I convince you to drive me back to my place just to grab some stuff? Phone charger, shit like that? Apparently I have an hour." Steve tapped his phone in his pocket. Eddie spun and looked at the microwave clock. 

"Uh, maybe. Wayne!" Eddie shouted, leaning out into the hall, hanging by the door frame. "What time do you work tonight?"

"You've got time!" Wayne yelled back, answering the implicit question. "Just hurry up!"

"Cool, let's hit the road then," Eddie turned and looked at Steve, jerking his head to the side to beckon him along. Steve nodded and followed after him, pulling his phone back out.

Be there in 20! PLEASE be decent when I get there.

Robin's response came as they pulled out of the trailer park.

obviously

wait where r u?

I'm with Eddie.

R U SERIOUS?????

u gonna stay w him tonight? ;)

Oh my god stop. But yes.

never omg

hey unrelated: r we going to the nerds party tomorrow?

You can if you want. Eddie invited me to a different party so I'll be with him.

jfc just fuck him already

Tempting, but he's driving right now.

"The hell- Did you just take a picture of me?" Eddie looked between Steve and the road a few times before settling back on paying attention to where he was going.

"Yeah," Steve laughed. "Told Robs I'm with you, need a picture for proof."

"Gotcha," Eddie said skeptically. 

its dark dingus i can barely see whos in the picture

i assume its eddie

Haha, sorry, yeah.

Eddie snuck glances whenever he could at Steve's phone screen, enough to catch Robin's suggestive comment. Steve was wrapped up in their conversation the whole ride back into town, perfectly silent the entire drive.

"Gonna need you to direct me from here, dude," Eddie said, tapping Steve's shoulder to get his attention once they got back downtown.

"Oh! Duh. Um, keep going straight until you hit that light, then turn left. There'll be a parking lot on the right a few blocks down, just pull in there."

"Aye aye, captain," Eddie said with a little salute that made Steve giggle. He followed Steve directions and pulled into a parking lot that he hoped was the right one.

“Cool. Um, you can come up if you want,” Steve said, halfway out of the van.

“Yeah, uh, as much as Robin’s den of depravity sounds like the event of the year, I think I’ll pass.”

“Probably the smart choice.”

Steve shut the van door and ran across the street, fishing keys out of his pocket. Eddie watched as he unlocked the door to the building, nestled in between a pawn shop and a convenience store. Once Steve was out of sight, Eddie pulled his phone out. In his brief absence, the group chat he was in had blown up, and he had a few missed calls from his friends.

Dustpan: is anybody bringing real food to the party tomorrow?

Garebear: Do you guys not have food in your house?

Microwave: not enough to feed all of us!

Leia: yeah, unless you guys want ramen and cheese its all night, we’re going to need to go shopping

Dustpan: which is why I’m asking

Wildred: I’m off work in an hour, I can pick something up if I need to

JIF: How did I know this would happen?

JIF: I just bought like 6 bags of pizza rolls because I knew this would happen.

JIF: Will you might wanna get chips or something

Microwave: get a veggie tray

Garebear: Jesus Christ Mike what are you, 80?

Garebear: a VEGGIE TRAY??

Wildred: lol I’ll grab some stuff. Other than Mike, does anyone have any requests?

Dustpan: depends, where are you going?

Wildred: … The store.

Dustpan: okay, WHICH store, asshole?

Leia: unrelated, but we’re out of coffee so if you’re going to the store could you grab some?

Wildred: That depends on the requests

Wildred: Yes I’ll get coffee

JIF: That is VERY related as I’m sure we will be drinking your coffee in the morning

Garebear: Tru

G-Man: I can bring chips Will don’t worry about it

Wildred: I’m getting pita chips and hummus and nothing else if you guys don’t tell me what you want

Garebear: Nooooo can you get jalapeno cheetos

JIF: Oh shit, yeah, seconding the cheetos

Wildred: Sure

Dustpan: ANYWAY I asked because I want those bulk plantain chips we get but if you aren’t going there then I’m good.

Wildred: I can get your stupid plantain chips, yes

Microwave: do we have eggos? el just texted me

Leia: WHY are you asking the groupchat that?

Microwave: bc i can hear one of you in the kitchen but i don’t know who it is

Microwave: and i don’t want to yell

Dustpan: it’s me, yes we have eggos.

Wildred: Lucas, do Max or Erica want anything?

Leia: please hold

Leia: max also wants jalapeno cheetos. erica wants pocky or oreos

Dustpan: we have like three different kinds of oreos. don’t buy oreos.

Microwave: we have oreos?? since when??

Dustpan: since like, thanksgiving break dude. if you ate more than dino nuggets and mac n cheese maybe you’d know that.

Microwave: hey. harsh

Microwave: i eat other stuff. i JUST asked for a veggie tray

Dustpan: yeah, because you use vegetables as a vessel for ranch.

Wildred: Eddie, do you want anything?

Microwave: also occasionally cheese, don't be reductive

Dustpan: there is something deeply psychologically wrong with you, you know that?

Wildred: Does anybody know what Eddie’s doing right now? I called him but he didn’t answer

Garebear: He never answers his phone, dude

Dustpan: huh. yeah, he didn’t answer me either.

Garebear: His phone has been on silent the entire time he’s had it

JIF: He should be off work by now, idk where he is though

Garebear: Dude. Did you just try to call him too? 

can you get me icecream?

Dustpan: eddie!

Wildred: Yeah man, what kind?

idk cookie dough or something? brand doesnt matter

JIF: He likes Ben and Jerrys

okay yeah but thats expensive

Wilma: lol I’ll see what I can find

you are a benevolent host

One of these days he'd need to come up with a funnier nickname for Grant.

--------------

the hellfire club groupchat is my pride and joy. also, i'm sure you all noticed, we officially have a title and, in turn, we're live on ao3! this part will go up on ao3 later today, i'll link it back here when it does!

tagging: @original-cypher @avacrebs @dangdirtydemons @rainydays35 @changenamelater @phantypurple @alienace @renaissan-vvitch @krazyperson @steddiereid @kittsu-makes-glass @i-must-potato @jaywhohasthegay @henderdads @mightbeasleep @straight4joekeery @sharingisntkaren @micheledawn1975 @thehumblefigtree @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @potentialheartofdarkness @dreammetheworld08 @steveisabicon @biatcgh @alittlegreyfish @r0binscript

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Interview Tag!

Thanks for tagging me, @talesofsorrowandofruin (here)!

I'll do two interviews this time, one for Tarrant Kyresell from Song of Thorns and one for Jack Tithus from Supernova Initiative!

(SONG OF THORNS)

Are you named after anyone?

(Tarrant shrugs) "Eh. Not really, I think. At least not that I know of. My... so-called 'family' was never so considerate as to put any thought into stuff like that, they don't really care all that much."

When was the last time you cried?

"Last night, into my pillow when everyone else was asleep, it's almost a routine for me now. Don't judge me - if you worked for my employer you would do the same. No, I'm not going to talk about why I cried. Mind moving on to less personal matters, now?"

Do you have kids?

"I know how to take care of children, how to babysit and whatnot - and my cousins sure do act like little kids when they want to, even though they're both grown up. But no, I don't want to bring any children into the world I live in - it's far too dangerous for various reasons."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"Not really, only amongst people I trust. Misunderstandings can prove deadly and I really can't afford to have my superiors accusing me of insubordination or of 'talking back' over some sarcastic remark or something. It just really isn't worth the time and patience."

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

"Noticing what people want in an interaction is the most important thing one can do. Once I know what people want from me - and trust me, everyone wants something - I can work my way around it safely and avoid uncomfortable situations. That I know what to expect and won't be caught off guard. It pays off after a while, and kinda became second nature to me."

What’s your eye color?

"I've got hazel eyes, though they're slightly more of a golden amber from what I've heard, due to alchemical sorcery potions I drink."

Scary movies or happy endings?

"Life in the kingdom I live in is a scary story, there's no way around it. Ghouls, undead, the plague, dangerous people who want to use you, it's always there one way or another - I'd rather not have to face fear within fiction too. Happy endings are rare and few in between in real life, which makes me find them slightly unrealistic in tales. Either way, I don't have much time to spend reading - another luxury I've lost a long time ago - but personally I do prefer philosophy books and poetry."

Any special talents?

"It depends. What do you consider special talents? I can sing, dance, clean stuff, and I know how to use my words and guile to get people to accept my employer's contracts and deals. It's my job. I also know many ways to kill, even though I don't like to - in the place I live, you kinda have to if you want to survive for long. I know how to look pretty and say things people want to hear. I'm a 'Silver Snake' - a manipulator of underworld politics and fake diplomat for my employer. It's what I do. As for talents I personally consider special, I have taught myself many different languages - which I can now speak fluently - and I also know how to make some interesting potions."

Where were you born?

"A freezing piece of nowhere called Grymhaw, close to the single most dangerous and disputed roadway in the realm, the Reaper's Way. Lovely place - if you don't mind everything else about it. "

Do you have any pets?

"Not really yet, but, and I fear this may seem childish of me, I really, really want to adopt a cat one day! A fluffy one, with those adorable big eyes and which does little 'biscuits' with its paws on a pillow. They're just the best."

What sports do you play?

"I don't really have time for any specific sports, per se, at least not as a hobby. If you count carrying stuff around for my employer, fighting people I'm hired to defeat (with a dagger or rapier, I'm not that good of an archer though), dancing, etc, I'd say I'm quite fit and athletic."

How tall are you?

"5.9 ft tall, around 179-180 centimeters."

What was your favorite subject in school?

"Commoners don't attend academia in Grymhaw. I am a commoner, spent most of my childhood trying to survive, and then was trained to become a Silver Snake after that godsdamned contract was signed. As I mentioned before though, I have a special interest when it comes to languages and I do know quite a lot about Botany, Philosophy, Politics, etc."

What is your dream job?

"Haha, now that's a new joke. I never even was given that choice - my soul was magically sold and I had to become a servant and a spy. Being a stupid warlord's little plaything wasn't exactly in my plans, but here I am. I wanted to be an alchemist."

(SUPERNOVA INITIATIVE)

Are you named after anyone?

"Hint: my full name comes from a gemstone or a flower. For personal reasons, I don't like my full name - so I just go by my nickname, Jack, which is a shorter version of my actual name, just that. Not really named after any specific person though."

When was the last time you cried?

"Don't really remember, if I'm being honest. I'm a pretty happy person - I've got an amazing little sister, great friends, my spaceship. I'd say I'm pretty damn lucky. I think I did cry recently while being experimented on by the Director though - I was scared and in a lot of pain - but thankfully no one but me needs to know that."

Do you have kids?

"No, not really. I'm an intergalactic thief and my on-the-run lifestyle, while fun and exciting, isn't exactly suited for small children. If one day I meet the right person and settle down, which is highly unlikely, I would like to have children - I think I'd be a good dad."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"Yes. I'm pretty witty and I love making sarcastic remarks - I'm not rude to people who don't deserve it and am usually very polite, but sarcasm is like second nature to me. It's fun, gets the message across, and annoys the hell out of my uptight enemies. Overall, it's a win-win situation for me. Plus, I'm an older brother - I think sarcasm is pretty much one of the requirements, haha, especially when you got a chaotic little sister like mine."

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

"It depends. If I'm meeting someone in a regular social situation, I usually notice how they carry themselves, if their looks seem to reflect something of their personality, if they seem like a nice person to be around or a douchebag, that sort of thing. If I'm in a dangerous situation however, I try to notice if the person is armed or poses a threat - if so, I then try to figure out how I can keep my team safe from that person and do anything I can to minimize the danger."

What’s your eye color?

"Dark brown, just like Cassie's."

Scary movies or happy endings?

"Oh, that's a nice question! I like both. Personally, I don't really like those extremely gory or disturbing horror movies, but I do like those cheesy teen horror flicks with a bit of comedy. Sometimes me and my sister try to find the worst possible low-budget horror movie and just watch it to laugh at the bad SFX and corny stories. As for happy endings, it's always good to watch a movie where everything works out in the end and gives you that warm, fuzzy feeling."

Any special talents?

"I'm a great pilot - I can maneuver my spaceship through an asteroid field or while being chased through a bunch of skyscrapers on a space station without much struggle. I'm also good at sharpshooting when I have the time to prepare and focus - though I'm admittedly not as good as Deimos or Vesper when it comes to striking moving targets, and I prefer not to hurt anyone, so most of my guns are set to just stun. I'm a good liar, I can make deals with anyone and I can get in and out of a high-security building with a priceless artifact without anyone noticing I was even there. So, haha, quite a few talents."

Where were you born?

"I was born in one of the three moons that orbit the planet of Ivion. It's a mining settlement, dusty, grimy, crime-ridden - forgotten by those highbrow Junction officers except in matters of exploiting everything the moon had to offer until there was nothing left. Basically, that place is just a big, bureaucratic space junkyard that sucks the soul out of you if you let it. I was never a big fan and don't want to go back any time soon."

Do you have any pets?

"Actual pets no, because they usually don't do that well in constant space travel and I would never want an animal to feel uncomfortable. But we do have a robot my sister built that helps around the ship - I believe Cassie named it Clank or something. The robot kinda acts like a big puppy and we love him."

What sports do you play?

"I do some workouts every morning - I need to be in top shape to continue making a fool of the Junction, plus I rather like exercising as a hobby, it's fun. I also stretch whenever I can, and I like doing some target practicing with my guns just to keep the skill sharp. I'm also good at running - which kinda comes with the territory of being a thief - and am good at streetfighting."

How tall are you?

"Eh, not sure. The Director's laboratory charts say I'm 173 cm, so around 5.7ft, I think? I haven't personally measured my height in a while."

What was your favorite subject in school?

"When I attended school I never really cared about it, to be honest. I was too busy being a rebellious little kid, and then our lives were thrown upside down, so I had to take care of my little sister, and ended up becoming an intergalactic thief, so not have much time to have a favorite subject. I do like astronomy and general science, like chemistry, though I never really was very good at maths - Cassie's the one who knows all the complicated equations and can build a robot from scratch. I'm really proud of her."

What is your dream job

"I'm pretty happy as I am now! I get to spite our corrupt government, take from the snobs, and help those down below. I get to see all those new planets and cool galaxies and have all these adventures alongside my team. I wish we didn't have to break the law though, and that we had a different life - but since that isn't really an option, we might as well enjoy the life we have!"

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@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

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@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG