#the worst part is that shit probably bangs
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jamethinks · 5 months ago
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I was like “imagine Loid making Yor traditional East German food because she’s sad” and then I decided to look up some traditional East German food and in retrospect I don’t think that will help. Maybe some wine or something.
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tswwwit · 2 years ago
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Dipper diving into demonic music just because, and then finding a song that Bills ex wrote about Bill and him, and it's like those cringy tiktok songs and he's just listening like "(0.O) i-what?? I'm not a harpy?? what- that doesn't even rhyme??"
He also finds a disturbing amount of love(lust?) songs about him, theres serenades, most of them are absolutely trash, and surprisingly some of them are catchy. Catch someone looking at dipper listening to something with earphones on thinking he's probably listening to regular music but it's demonic music and the lyrics are like "I want to ######## ###### ####### #### and ###### ########## Bills husband" Or smthng along those lines
Sorry for ranting this ws just on my mind 😔
Also consider: Dipper, still not quite fluent in the common demonic tongue, finding a fairly catchy song and thinking 'hey, that's cool'. Pretty rare that he finds something demonic that he actually jives with.
Which is when Bill walks in on Dipper humming along to a song that paints him in a very profane light. Most times Bill would laugh at Dipper shimmying to some tune 'cause he didn't get how lewd it was, but this one is not it.
In the moment, Dipper's bewildered at Bill's fuming, sulking, and possessive reaction. Also complains about the speaker getting smashed. It's not until he hears it playing again much later, and actually listens to the lyrics, that he goes 'well, shit'.
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monstersflashlight · 5 months ago
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Commission for @itsafullmoon
A/N: thank you so much for commissioning again! It means the world. <3 This was so fun to write, everyone needs a friendly werewolf who takes care of you. I didn't include the bedroom part because i thought this would make more sense, hope y’all enjoy it!
Request: werewolf x fem!human Fem!reader is going through hard times and makes a habit of coming home from work to go cry in kitchen and continue upstairs to get ready for bed. She’s completely unaware that her neighbor has been closely watching her routine since she moved across the street 6 months ago, he desperately wants to know what’s wrong, hurt who ever is hurting her!…..decided, she’s the perfect mate! I would like it mentioned in story that fem!human has long black hair.
Maybe I’m a bit of a creep
Werewolf x fem!reader || oral sex, knotting || tw: stalker (lowkey)
After a long day at work, you arrive home like a soul in distress. You leave everything into a pile at the door and walk to the kitchen half zombie. Last couple weeks have been a complete nightmare and you just want to get home, drink some wine... and cry. So you are going to do exactly that.
You are a strong woman who can deal with all this shit and walk away after. But first: crying. Just a bit of crying and then you can keep going. You can do this. But your inner monologue it’s soon cut short by the first tear, followed by a thousand more. You stood there in the middle of your kitchen, face down as tears rolling down your face and falling to the floor. You don’t even care you will probably have to clean that later.
You stood there, crying and sipping on some wine like every other day of the past days. You want to be stronger than that, but you just… Can’t. Life is a mess and sometimes crying is the only way to make you feel a tiny fraction better. But apparently not even that can you do in peace.
There’s a knock on your back door. You look up at the clock and get a bit wary, grabbing your phone in case you need to speed dial the cops or something. “Yes?” You don’t dare opening without asking first.
“I’m your neighbor, can I borrow some salt?” His deep and grumpy voice… Your hot neighbor, the werewolf next door. Fuck.
You knock your head against the door and breathe deeply before answering. You frantically wipe the tears away. “I- sure.” You try to get yourself together as fast as possible, you probably look like a mess and he’s going to see you in all your misfortune. There they go all your opportunities to hit on him at some point. Fuck. Your luck is just the worst.
You open the door a bit and try to back down to get the salt, but before you can do that, he’s asking: “Why are you crying?”
You try to be as subtle as possible as you try to wipe away a couple more tears that escaped your traitorous eyes. It doesn’t work. “What? I’m not.” It sounds fake even to your own ears, but you stay put, maybe you can gaslight him slightly to make him feel you are telling the truth.
That thought makes you feel like a shithead, but dang, you want to maintain some kind of dignity in this stupid situation. Why had to be him? Couldn’t it be any other neighbor that is not hot as hell and you didn’t want to bang since the first day he moved in next door? Ugh. Your luck is truly terrible.
He takes a deep breath and approaches you. “You cry every night. I’ve seen you.” He wipes away some of your tears with his clawed, furry paw, and it takes you two more seconds to register what he just said.
You look at him like he’s crazy, because he truly is. Has he been spying on you? Is he a creep? “What? How? Dude are you a creep? I’m going to call the cops.” You pull your phone from your pocket ready to do just that.
But he stops you “No! No, don’t do that. I’m-” He stops mid sentence, thinking about it, and ends up saying: “well, maybe I’m a bit of a creep.” You want to cry and laugh at the same time, what is this situation? Is he really accepting being a creep? What the actual fuck. “It’s just that your kitchen window is right across my living room window and you cry here every night.” You look across your kitchen and true to his word, his living room is right across your kitchen window. Fuck.
Can you be more lame? He’s been enjoying his dinner every night just to have you crying across the lawn like a pathetic woman. Lasts pieces of your self-respect feel like running away at that moment. Fuck. Your luck is truly and completely fucked up.
But to your surprise, and probably his, too, his next words make you both speechless: “Let me make you feel better.” You stare at him, mouth agape and your brain running so fast you can’t even process what he just said. What the fuck does he mean by that?
“What?” You ask, finally, when your brain gains some kind of control back over your body. He stares at you, his ears twitching in the most werewolf way possible. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beat of your heart.
“Let. Me. Make. You. Feel. Better.” He enunciates each word as if you were stupid, and at that moment, you feel pretty stupid. He’s so fucking handsome you can’t control your own brain around him, or your reactions, or how fucking done with everything you are because you want to say yes to his innuendo so bad.
You try not to feel the anticipation about it, but you can feel your pussy getting excited about it. “How are you going to do that?” You ask, you want to believe it’s an innuendo, but with your luck lately, you can’t ignore that it might be just a stupid idea, and he’s just talking about making you soup or something.
He looks at you and smells the air, sniffing you. You don’t know what you smell like, but he smirks and says: “I’m going to bend you down over the table and I’m going to eat you out. And then… I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be thinking about your problems anymore.” You feel your heartbeat accelerate even more, your pussy getting instantly wetter. Fuck.
“I-” You hesitate, even though your pussy is screaming at you to stop being stupid and take this opportunity, bet some werewolf dick would make you feel incredible.
He looks at you, his face impossibly tender. “Say yes.” His whisper is so soft and filled with emotion that you feel like crying again, but this time for very different reasons.
“Yes,” you whisper back, feeling shy all of sudden.
“Thank the goddess for that.” He drives right in, framing your face with his paws and kissing you until your brain is spinning. You break apart just for him to tear your clothes off your body, making you giggle at his eagerness. He manhandles you until you are face down on the table, bent down, and he’s kneeling behind you, his face right over your pussy. That’s hot. “Bon appétit.” You are about to laugh at the absurdity of the moment and his words when you feel the first touch of his tongue against your pussy. God.
He gives you no heads up, he starts devouring your pussy like he’s a starved man and you are the last source of food in the whole world. He licks and kisses, and makes out with your cunt. Meanwhile, you don’t know what to do with your hands, grabbing and pulling at your hair. You groan and cry out and feel like the universe is behind your eyes as he keeps eating you out desperately.
The orgasm catches you by surprise, arching your back and pushing your hips against his face as he grunts his approval. You grind your pussy back into his face as he makes the most erotic sounds of pleasure against your sensitive areas. When you come down from the high, he’s right there to catch you, his whole body covering your back as you feel the tip of his erection against your entrance.
“Say yes,” he repeats.
“Yes.” This time is not shy or embarrassed, you are completely on board with it, you want to be fucked until you are a mess of heat and juices.
He grunts at your agreement and starts pushing in. You thought he would be wild and savage, entering you in one hard thrust like all those romance books you love. But he doesn’t, he whispers sweet nothings to your ear, telling you how pretty you are, how he was wishing to ask you out since he moved in but didn’t find the courage. He tells you about how perfect you are, how good of a mate you’d make for him. And you preen at his compliments, your insides getting warm and your heart accelerating to the point of worry.
But he keeps going, his dick so far inside you can feel him against the back of your throat. Fuck. “Is it fully inside?” You ask after he’s been still for a long moment.
“Not yet, just a bit more. Breathe slow for me, let me in.” You do exactly that and groan loud and deep when you feel the last of him enter you. Good goddess he’s so deep.
“You are… so deep.” You let out, your breath caught in your throat. He stays put, not even moving a millimeter, and still whispering sweet nothings against your ear. Bit by bit you relax, and when the feeling inside of you is no longer overwhelming you groan out: “Move.” He waits no longer. He pulls back as much as he can and drives right in, a slow tempo that is driving you insane. “Faster. Harder,” you order, your brain already lost in pleasure. His dick is so big that he hits every single pleasure point at once.
“Are you sure?” He sounds uncertain and that makes you like him even more.
“Yes!” You cry out as he complies, pulling out and back in fast and hard. You groan and moan and a chorus of ah ah ah joins the slap of skin against skin.
He keeps fucking you, the symphony of ecstasy getting louder and louder, but he keeps talking, “your fucking black hair drives me insane.” He tells you, pulling at your hair hard and making you moan.
“What? Why?” His non-stopping pounding is driving you insane, there’s no way you can focus enough to understand what he’s saying.
“I think about it constantly, what would you look with your hair tied back and on your knees? What would you look when I grab it and ride you? It drives me crazy, and now every time I see you in a ponytail I get a boner.” You giggle at his confession, but another hard thrust against your G-spot makes your eyes roll back. He keeps talking, “and you wear too many fucking ponytails.” He punctuates every word with a thrust that have you seeing the whole galaxy. His big balls are bouncing on your clit and you feel so close to the edge you think you are going to break into a million pieces.
He fucks two more orgasms out of you, your body lax and fucked out under him. You don’t know if you could continue, but you have no strength to tell him anything about it. And it feels so good… Over-sensitivity making each thrust a new experience.
But when you think it’s close to ending, he asks, “are you ready to take my knot, mate?” You are startled at his words, but at that moment you wouldn’t care even if a burglar broke in. You need him like you need air, you want to come around his fat knot next.
“Yes!” You scream, a little part of your brain worrying someone could hear how loud you two are being, but not really caring.
His dick starts to expand inside of you, so big you cry out and thrash under him. He holds you down with his own body as he pushes inside fully. When his knot is fully settled, he starts to grind his hips against your ass, and you see starts, another orgasm being ripped off you. He groans when your pussy clenches around him, and you feel the first shoot of his cum deep inside. So much of it. He cums for what feels like hours.
He pulls out and you feel a gush of fluids dripping down your legs onto the floor. Gross. But fast as lightning, he’s there with a warm cloth, cleaning you out and telling you how pretty you look all fucked out. You don’t move from your position, unable to, your legs feel like jelly.
A bit later, when you are on the sofa, your head on his chest and your ass on his lap, you ask him, “Did you mean it?”
He looks at you puzzled, confused like a puppy. “What?”
You breathe hard, trying not to overthink too much what you are about to say: “You called me your mate.”
He stops, his face blank as he looks at you, deep in thought. But he doesn’t make you wait long. “I- Yes. I mean it.” You feel your heart expand, like it’s being overfilled with joy and anticipation.
“Would you go out with me?” You finally ask, feeling your face blush as you hide it in his neck, softly biting the tendon there, making him moan.
He grabs your face in his big hands and makes you look at him. “I’d thought you’d never ask,” he says, a big feral grin showing all his teeth. You blush harder when he kisses you deeply.
Well, at least crying got you somewhere… To the lap of a hot werewolf.
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xo2dee · 3 months ago
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ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱ��ɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ
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✶ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Choso x Reader
✶ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None
✶ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1,003
✶ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: As sweet as he was, your boyfriend really couldn't cook to save his life.
✶ ᴀ/ɴ: never written for choso but i wanted to start with something little and hopefully something thats not ass as ive planned a choso longfic for the future and wanted to practice a bit. also i like to hc that he'd be a terrible cook ngl lmao. hope you enjoy!
✶ twitter - ao3
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“Um…”
Not your most eloquent response, but you supposed it could match the… delicacy of the situation.
By your side you felt him move, his shoulder bumping against your own as he shifted on his feet at your mumble and ducked his head lower to put his ear closer to your mouth. You could almost feel the sweat lining your forehead, his dark eyes boring into the side of your face as you fought to keep a straight face and stared pointedly at the… ‘food’ in front of you. It was hard not to laugh, your lips quivering and stomach knotting in a ball from holding your breath for so long, but the last thing you wanted to do was hurt your fairly new boyfriend’s feelings.
Even if he couldn’t cook a damn thing to save his life.
(No way Yuji lived with him like that… Either he cooked, or he was eating out every night.)
In your peripherals you eyed Choso for his body language. It was clear he was eager for your answer; perhaps a little praise here and there for his ‘astounding’ cooking expertise, but you weren’t oblivious to the anxious undertones he was permitting as well. It was almost like he knew he fucked up, but he wanted you to give it to him easy, so he didn’t have to come to terms that you and Yuji possible grinned and bared it every time he made something for the either of you two (and you didn’t even want to think about Eso and Kechizu. God they probably scarfed the shit down while Yuji’s stomach fought for its life).
Though looking at the dessert he made…
Choso’s finger dug into your side, effectively cutting off any more mental insults you could throw at the food, and he poked you twice in the hip while latching onto your belt loop, “You’re just standing there staring at it.”
Well, what could you say? “I’m just in awe how you cooked something that looks so good.” Something along the lines of that would butter him up.
Choso sighed, “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.” Or not.
You dared a glance at him, sucking in your lips at the dejected pout and longing gaze at the hockey pucks he created out of cookie dough, before relaxing your shoulder and leaning into him, “I mean it. Just a tad overdone –” he shot you a withering look, making you laugh sheepishly – “we can just throw it in the microwave to soften them up a bit.” You really didn’t want to lose any teeth, and Choso had such pretty ones you didn’t want him to lose those either.
The side-eye you were receiving was uncalled for in your opinion, and he was gazing at your face for a rather long time to gauge the expression (and see through your lies) on your face before he scowled and looked back at the mess. Part of you wanted to reassure him, knowing he really did try his hardest, but other part of you didn’t want to lie straight to his face and save yourselves both a future mess on your hands for lying. Honestly, it wasn’t a huge deal, but Choso also looked so sad… like a little baby panda sad…
You went to reassure him (truthfully that time), yet at that moment your boyfriend uncurled his fingers from your belt loop, took one of the hockey – cookies and promptly banged it against the counter in a sound so deafening it promptly stopped the words on your tongue as you both stared.
“…”
“…”
You both stood in silence for a moment, and then – “Wow, it’s so hard not a single crumb fell off.”
Choso sighed – again – and grumbled something under his breath while scratching the back of his head, “You hate it.”
Your eyebrows rose, fingers curling around his wrist to throw his arm over your shoulder as you fought off another laugh from his behavior, “I don’t hate it. It’s just… you burnt them.” Leaning further into him whenever Choso finally relaxed, you began to pull on his cheek and relish in the tint turning a charming shade of red, “Plus I think it’s sweet you wanted to make me cookies.”
He hummed, eyelashes fluttering and lips twitching as he avoided your eyes to showcase his embarrassment, “It’s been three months since we started dating.”
Your heart and stomach flipped timeously, still not used to Choso’s blunt attitude when it came to expressing parts of his feelings for you. He was still rather reserved in some instances, but more often did he leave you speechless when he decided to openly show his affection for you in ways that didn’t involve any physical intimacy. You couldn’t blame him for trying, but you did want to get away from the burnt cookie smell…
“So sentimental,” you teased, giving his cheek one more pinch before guiding him back to the couch where popcorn and a movie you had planned awaited, “Let’s just stick to this tonight. Maybe one day we can make cookies together… so they don’t burn.”
He answered you through a squeeze with his hand, following you dutifully and at ease from your suggestion. Though as you flicked through possible movies to watch, you couldn’t help but tease him a little more.
“How did you forget they were in oven?”
“I don’t think I set the timer.”
“I mean it happens to all of us.”
“…They could be edible –”
“No.”
“No, I mean – I think Eso and Kechizu might eat them.”
“Oh yeah, you’re right. Though it’s a wonder how they’re still alive if you were cooking for them the entire time.”
“I can cook some things, even Yuji says so.”
“Yes, the Yuji who eats takeout almost every night. Imagine what’d he say if he saw –"
Choso’s fingers found your lips, pinching them together and effectively shutting you up as he decided on a movie himself and not having to hear your mouth.
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peppertoastuniverse · 3 months ago
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more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 5: mandarin
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contents: gojo Satoru x reader, FLUFF , satoru being a little shit, 2 idiots summary: when you consistently ignore gojo’s frequent texts to hang out, he takes matters into his own hands wc: 3.2k
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“whoa, didn’t expect you to fall for me like this,” he says, feeling his laughter through his chest, breathing life into the dark corners of your cavity. it was too much. he was always too much. regaining your senses, you squawk out of embarrassment, concrete realization of where you were in the form of his thumb moving back and forth on your side, a half hearted attempt to soothe you. self consciousness fuelling your uncoordinated limbs you scramble to separate yourself from him.
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previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter
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ding. ding.  it only took two impatient sounds to disturb your peace. slightly groaning as you hear the echoing source of your current pain: your phone. ever since gojo got a hold of your number it like was like his grating voice was constantly in your head. he constantly texted you, blowing up your phone about anything and everything. from what he swore was the best daifuku in Tokyo he discovered last week, or complaining about how unfair it was that ieri kicked him out of her room again or sending you photos of him post mission, peace signs prominent with a cheery grin while geto was in the background back turned, hunched over presumably throwing up from a particular nasty curse he had to ingest - gojo never failed to message you.
for the most part you didn’t respond to gojo’s constant messages, but that didn’t deter him, if anything it prompted him to text you even more. in your eyes, it was only a matter of time before he would get tired of you - you were just waiting for him to realise what you knew was going to happen. it was a reason why you kept your walls so high, you enjoyed the safety and predictability of the darkness and satoru gojo was too bright.
turning back to your desk you pick up your discarded pen, twirling it in your hands absentmindedly. how long have you been at this?  probably 3 hours at least. you quickly skim through his messages while you regather your papers together.
gojo: hehe look at this (2:13pm) [image] (2:13pm)
you open the attachment begrudgingly, the unopened image taunting you, peaking your curiosity. it was a blurry photo of an annoyed geto, mouth open probably cussing gojo out, violet eyes flashing in warning looking beyond the camera with his arms attempting to grab the phone from him. his dark bangs frame his face as usual but the rest of his dark hair was pulled into two high messy pigtails. snorting in amusement, you download the image - ah a new treasure. sometimes gojo could be useful. you return to the message thread, seeing a flow of multiple messages.
gojo: bbbbbb <3 (4:03pm) im booooored booooooooooored lets hangggg (6:04pm) lets do something rn (6:10pm) omg when r u gna stop ignoring me lol (6:20pm) (◞‸◟;) stoppp (6:21pm) how come u never answer me "( – ⌓ – ) (6:22pm) not cool b (6:25pm)
you easily silence your phone before hastily typing in a message to appease him.
you: busy (6:40pm)
gojo: (ᴗ_ ᴗ。) busy??? the whole day?! (6:40pm) busy with what (6:41pm) with whaaaat bbb ( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。) (6:43pm)
you don’t bother answering him, instead choosing to ignore him for what seemed to be the millionth time . you really had to get this done – not that you wanted to hang out with gojo anyway. discarding your phone on your bedside table, you groan when you make your return to your desk. this was the worst part about being a sorcerer : the paperwork. you’ve put off the reports for the last 4 missions that you went on, plus you had to do the rest of your homework. you palm your temple with a sigh of anticipation in what surely was going to be a long night.
and then you hear it; a whine of your name beyond your door paired knocking on your door to an uneven rhythm. ughh. you could just imagine the overly dramatic pout on his face.
as to appease the assault that your door was taking, you opened the opposing barrier with a scowl on your face.
“how come you don’t answer my messages?” gojo immediately whines the minute he sees you.
“I told you, I’m busy!”
“but we’re friends! you answer suguru and shoko!”
“yeah because they don’t message me every 2 seconds – my phone is usually on silent anyway, so I forget to check.”
“ughhh… sooooo, can we hang out now?” he gripes, lowering his dark glasses, showing the crocodile tears dancing on his waterline.
“...i have all this paperwork to do, gojo.” you say opening your door wider, gesturing to your messy desk.
he sighs exasperate throwing his hands in the air. “…fine.” pout on full view he turns his firm back, not sparing you a second glance retreating into his room next to yours.
huh. that was easy. part of you felt validated in his easy retreat, it was something that you were used to, something expected – even from the strongest.
you settle back in to your desk, cursing your past self for putting this off for so long.
okay, okay, where were you? concentrate. ughhhh … what happened in nagasaki again? oh right it was that stupid scissor curse that cut you up pretty badly – not your best moment. geto really saved your ass back there with rainbow dragon. he ended up swallowing the curse later and annoyingly scolded you. but he also complained -
“babe!! i'm hooooomeeee!” the door handle rustles before abruptly opening, a mop of tousled white hair, barges into your room with no warning. your wide eyes narrow at the annoyance. waltzing in with a pep in his step, obnoxiously swinging a plastic bag filled to the brim of multiple cakes, sweets and sugary drinks was gojo with an aggravating smirk. you stare at him, hoping your heated glance would melt his grinning face off.
“don't give me that face, grumpy! i got ya some concentration snackies - aren't you glad i thought of you, huh? im such a good friend.” poking your shoulder in greeting ignoring your exasperated pout.
“no one appreciates me here! i'm more than just a pretty face, y'know.” gojo responds to your silence with a dramatic sigh. he settles the bulging bag on the floor he tosses his too long body onto your bed, jostling the soft pillows. you tsk in disapproval.
cooing as he spots Bun Bun peacefully resting on the middle of your bed, you watch as gojo's long limbs dramatically flail to pick up the pink bunny stuffie. “hey, lil’ guy,” he whispers, his slender nose nuzzling Bun Bun's plush cheeks, “i know, I know, babe’s not being fun again. yeah i know, i told her don't worry.” turning his head to meet your incredulous glare. your eye begins to twitch in annoyance, "that's not what he's saying!"
“uh huh, you're just jealous of our bond." he scrunches up his nose at you, " y’knowww you’re gonna get wrinkles early if you keep frowning so much!” gojo practically sings from your bed, infinity easily going up as you launch an eraser at him angrily. he snickers before settling on his side, moving Bun Bun lovingly to share the same pillow as him.
ignoring gojo was no easy feat, but luckily you were very experienced in that field. returning to your work on your desk, you bite your tongue with the urge to cuss him out. you wheel your chair around to fully ignore his distracting presence.
he always took up too much space, his very energy making it hard to focus.
resting your head on your palm, you prop your head up attempting get back into the zone of concentration.
alright, nagasaki. you smirk as you remember how geto complained how terrible it tasted and how amazing that ramen was that you and geto had after. he was worried about your shallow wounds despite your constant reassurance that you were fine, ugh suguru was way too considerate. you pretty much had to beg him to go get some food, you remember how you grinned self righteously as you watched his hesitation disappear the minute he tasted the broth. you had a suspicion it was partly because the curse tasted so bad. but that didn't stop geto from carrying you back on rainbow dragon despite your fear of heights. you wince as you remember ieri smacking you and geto when you got back because she was so pissed when you didn't return straight away with all of those cuts – 
“whatcha doing?” you feel gojo's warm breath in your ear, the action making you shudder at the intrusion.
abruptly you turn your head to see gojo’s face right next to yours over your shoulder, nose daring to brushing his smooth cheek.
yelping loudly, you jerk to the side causing you to fall off your chair in a fright. you hear gojo’s amused snort as you close your eyes waiting to hit the ground but … it never came.
warm arms lightly grip your abdomen preventing you from hitting the ground, you feel gojo’s firm chest behind your back as you sit clumsily in his lap, legs swung over to his left side. his skin was warm and soft, invading your senses with his familiar scent. the weight of his body against yours felt foreignly comforting. engulfing your already panicked state in a new level of unease, you weren't completely sure if you enjoyed his warmth or resented him for making you question it. you unconsciously settle your hand on his forearm against your stomach finding an overwhelming needing to ground yourself. you hoped that he couldn’t feel your loudly beating heart through your chest, or that his six eyes couldn't see the deeply buried holes in your heart. “whoa, didn’t expect you to fall for me like this,” he says, feeling his laughter through his chest, breathing life into the dark corners of your cavity.
it was too much. he was always too much.
regaining your senses, you squawk out of embarrassment, concrete realization of where you were in the form of his thumb moving back and forth on your side, a half hearted attempt to soothe you. self consciousness fuelling your uncoordinated limbs you scramble to separate yourself from him.
“ompff – uhh – careful where you're – ompff –  stepping, babe!” he stutters quickly, worry and slight panic tinging his voice. his body attempting to shift with your fussing to neutralize your erratic momovements, “look, I don’t give a fuck – oh geez – but the clan still wants an heir so – please be careful“ a large hand goes to still your shin.  
an heir? does he mean – oh. OH. in a panic you finally manage to slide down onto to the floor legs still draped over his thighs.
“d-don’t you have anything better to do?!” you deflect refusing to look him. crossing your arms across your chest, trying to distract yourself form thinking about gojo in that way.
gojo’s eyes widen. whoa, what's with that expression? this was ... new. he couldn’t help but notice how your face flushed, the heat gradually spreading to the tips of your ears, down your the column of your pretty throat...
“you would know if you checked your messages!” he huffs ignoring the way his ears turn pink, “we’re gonna hang out when you're done.”
when did you agree to this? ­­
"who decided that?" you said fighting the blush you knew decorated your face, face full of defiance.
he whines your name, “c'mon!!”
“ugh, I still have to do the stupid paperwork! i’ve put it off too long.” you groan flopping on the ground, using your hands to rub your eyes. truth be told, gojo being in your room felt almost suffocating. the air felt too stifling, like you were backed into a corner forced to always playing defence with the strongest. and you didn't want to play his stupid games.
breathing softly you watch as the growing shadows on the your ceiling frame your nagging restlessness to get work done.  gojo’s face popping into your view.
“why don’t you take a break? you’ve been working hard for hours – let’s have some snacks!” he adds, attempting to sweeten the deal. you shrug noncommittally, you just wanted to be free of that stupid paperwork. you hear the rustling of a plastic bag, as he digs through his haul, mumbling to himself, "not this.. ugh not this one either, hmm, that's definitely mine .. oh fuck i forgot i bought this heh.. where is it? i just..."
“m’ not in the mood for sweets, go–“
“i got you – I knew you’d want something boring!” you hear him rustling deeper into the plastic bag. you smell a burst of citrus. his grin comes into view again while he roughly shoves a few segments of a mandarin into your mouth, forcing the rest of the peeled fruit into your hand.
“mph! dude– “ you quickly chew the segment in surprise, mouth bursting with the refreshing juice, the orange’s soft flesh tangy and slightly sweet. “… huh. thanks.”
gojo hums victoriously, falling on his back beside you, legs bent, foot tapping out a rhythm.
you split your remaining mandarin in half, feeling for the larger portion and passing it in gojo’s surprised hands. slender fingers briefly mingling with each other, electricity brewing between them. you retreat your hands quickly, purposely ignoring his lingering fingers.
if he notices, gojo makes no mention of it, popping the whole mandarin in his mouth.
“so, why was suguru’s hair in pigtails?” you ask, amused smile growing on your face from the memory of geto’s disturbed expression. chewing on another segment, you could easily imagine geto's loud grumble and exasperation that you frequently heard when gojo was around him.
gojo barks out a laugh, half chewed mandarin still in his mouth. “idiot fell asleep in the common room and y’know… anything is fair game there,” he says shifting slightly to look at you.
“oh god. pff, yeah honestly he had it coming. poor suguru though, he’s been so busy lately, must've been exhausted… i’m surprised he didn’t murder you.”
“oh he tried, he summoned 3 curses,” gojo snickers, pushing his dark glasses up.
“… next time we should do space buns,” you grin mischievously.
“oh fuck that’s a great idea!” he shouts, repeatedly tapping the ground in excitement, matching grin on his face. gojo was practically vibrating with mischief, inching closer to you on the ground.
you couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. often times gojo reminded you of an overly excitable puppy, constantly wagging his tail, begging for attention. usually you'd get the puppy who would become your shadow, whining constantly for a walk and would harness their chaotic energy to trash a room just because. there's a reason why you were a cat person.
“but oh my goddd, have you touched his hair, babe? it’s so fucking soft? i don’t understand what he does but -" you watched gojo talk animatedly. his mouth dressed up in a boyish gin, pearly teeth on full display, emphasizing the dimple on his left side, embellishing the joy he was radiating. it was times like these where you were strangely more aware that satoru gojo was handsome. the soft slope of his cupid’s bow that lead to delicate lips, the slant of his slender nose, his soft cheeks -
you shake your head. god, he was so distracting. he was so annoying.
“ - hey? did ya hear me?” gojo asks, poking your cheek. you share back at him blindly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. "huh?" stretching slightly you shift on to your side, curling your knees together so they almost touch his thighs. "what were you saying?"
“I said, I got you something!” not even bothering to hid his annoyed glare. he props himself up with his hand supporting his head, turning fully to you, mirroring your body. reaching into his back pocket, he takes out a silver phone charm. delicate and elegant, the neat row of varying silver and black beads strung on a intricate chain complimented the silver star at the end.
you blink at him. “wait- for me?” your eyes dart between the phone charm and his expectant smile.
“duh! it’s for your phone! so whenever you see it, it’ll remind you to answer my messages.” he jingles the keychain, waiting for you to take it.
you stare at him, a hidden expression on your face that he couldn’t decipher.
“man, I gotta do everything here, eh?” gojo pouts, rolling his eyes. he gracefully rolls over to reach for your phone on your bed side table with a sigh. plopping back down on his side, he loops the charm on to your phone grinning triumphantly.
“hehe, look, babe – now we have matching ones!!” he takes out his own phone to show you the same silver keychain on his phone. gojo hands you your phone back, immediately you admire the way the way the keychain captures the dim light of your bedside table. pretty. although gojo’s antics were dramatic and sometimes downright irritating, his constant effort to get to know you despite your adamant refusal was … endearing. you noticed that he was generous, not only constantly buying you, ieri and geto snacks or meals without prompting but generous in his time, annoyingly checking up on you when he didn't see you for a few hours. you had to admit that he did put up a good fight to your frank rebuffs. he noticed a lot more than you gave him credit for, he cared for his friends in his own way but fierce so. despite his arrogant and brash behaviour maybe, just maybe, he could be someone you could talk to once in a while, someone you could let in just a little bit. it wouldnt hurt to be on friendlier terms, right?
“… thanks gojo.” you say smiling in realization as you fiddle with the star of the keychain, unable to look at him.
something in gojo’s stomach flutters, not expecting your bashful demeanour. if you smiled at him like that, he think might collapse. he wasn’t even really sure what he did that granted him the privilege to see your smile, a genuine one - it was just a little trinket, an inexpensive thing he picked up because he was tired of radio silence from you. he smiled thinking about your reaction of something else, perhaps if he got you those specific chips that he noticed that you liked that were notorious for being be sold out at the convenience store or maybe a scarf since you always seemed to be cold or, or maybe even a necklace with his initials -
“… hey? gojo?" you ask softly.
"yes, my grumpy lil prince–" "shut up, before i take back what i'm going to say, idiot." you scoff, your dead pan glare, effectively doing the impossible in shutting up gojo. you sigh. god, were you going to regret this decision? "... if you give me like 2 hours in silence.." you palm your forehead, wondering if you've gone absolutely insane.
".... maybe we could watch a movie or something after?” you force out softly.
gojo smiles widely, almost bouncing up and down as he gets up from the floor, offering you a hand to help you up. you stare at his out stretched hand suspiciously.
“well, the sooner you get started the sooner we can watch!!”
hesitantly you accept his hand and his help. it was a strange feeling, one that you weren’t sure yet that you liked yet. you quickly sever the contact, dropping his hand immediately, not wanting to get used to this new sensation. you huff , moving towards your desk, reshuffling the papers with renewed energy.
turning around to face him, voice authoritative with warning, you meet his covered eyes “when I mean silence though gojo, I mean absolute silence.” he nods, looking back at you, he uses his slender pointer finger and thumb to zip his mouth, and toss away the key behind him, a promise in his bright eyes behind his dark glasses.
gojo resettles on your bed, with a triumphant sigh. he makes a point to grab Bun Bun to lay on his chest as he takes out his phone to play some games, his silver phone charm dancing in the light. you turn around, hands itching to finally get some work done, concentrating on summarizing the straight forward mission in hamura. an unusual silence aids the scratching of your pen on paper, propelling your rapid thoughts. but after 20 minutes of working, you hesitantly clear your throat, turning back to take a peek at gojo, his eyebrow quirked.
“… so, uh what movies are playing right now?”
you can hear the joy in his voice when he starts to weigh your options, even asking Bun Bun for his opinions and occasionally spoiling the plots for other options. With a soft grin, you found that this time you didn’t mind the chatter... or the company.
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a/n: he just wants to spend time with you ( 。 •̀ ᴖ •́ 。) --
head image credit: Itadakimasu dividers from: @/adornedwithlight
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yanderecandystore · 1 year ago
Note
I love the yandere monster story, can I make a wish for some yandere monster boy naga who is looking for a mate to carry his eggs and live the rest of his life together forever?
I don't condone yandere shit irl, but if you bang a naga man someday I'll give you a pass and a cookie, you mad lad. Not proofread enough lmao, also sorry but I really don't know how to type s e x.
Tw/Tags: straight up NSFW/+18 scene (written by someone who struggles to imagine sex- So we don't guarantee quality) // not very descriptive genitals, if at all // the usual yandereness + breeding kink; possessive behavior; manipulation; suffocation; implied oviposition but not really cause I'm dumb // you're a literal desert mailman💀 I'm sorry // brief mentions of troubled family life/past trauma // language barrier // self-conscious reader // willing yet slightly scared reader.
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
Writing in the sand [Yandere!Male!Naga x AFAB!Messenger!Reader - One shot]
Being a messenger was actually a lot more dangerous than it seemed at first, how many times have you and your camel met with bandits, scammers, difficult terrain, awful weather, people who would tell you the wrong direction for shits and giggles?? MANY times, but did you ever consider quitting and going back to the tea shop of your very judgmental parents or worse- To accept the offer of personal servant to that weird queen from the faraway lands who wouldn't shut up about how much better her kingdom was?? NO!
I mean a little bit. Just a little bit. Occasionally, I mean her kingdom was really pretty, though constant snow sounds like a pain in the ass, and giving up the freedom you currently have for either a strict monarch or your family was NOT something you were planning to do, ever!
The first time you got off the borders to send messages for far away people was the day you truly felt alive for once! The desert itself was your greatest rival and yet you faced it head down after that day- Sure, you were unprepared at first and there's still plenty to learn out there but it was EXCITING!!
You fought (ran away as quickly as you could) many groups trying to get a coin out of your body, or your life! Or your camel!! King Mustard wasn't the same after the "giant scorpion with that group of thieves" incident that happened, the worst part is that it happened twice though the people were different at least. Your personal theory is that the scorpion WAS the same from before, and that it has been following you through your journeys and it probably was looking for revenge!!
You told that story to so many people that now it's hard to go someplace without repeating yourself, it's weird how even though you're never at one place for too long, most people know you! You're, humbly speaking, sort of a big deal in the great drylands- Not known for your bravery but mostly for your constant running mouth and your adapted technique in how to extract cactus juice safely from a cactus with 70% success of no cactus drunkenness! (100% Needle-safe not included).
Stopping in a town was obviously the safest place for you and your camel, but was also probably one of the most rewarding parts of your trips, of course because you always need to have plenty of resources out there in the sand but also because… Well, as much as you loved every second of exploration and travel, you were admittedly a very lonely person.
It's not something you like to tell others, as you have already experienced people doubting your capability of being a messenger if you get so "emotional" over being far away from people ("I told you so!" Yeah, thanks mum.). It was a time you could feel at least safe and… Sometimes welcomed.
But it wasn't always a lonely trip, after all, King Mustard was here! Him with his big personality was always the heart of the party! Everyday was fun with him, even if he couldn't speak to you… However, that doesn't mean you haven't found great comfort in your travels, you probably haven't noticed this yourself yet, but [y/n]...
You are a very dear person.
Every person you've helped along the way in your trips, just by coincidence finding them, and landing them a hand in the hot and harsh reality of the desert thinks of you dearly. You have friends! It's just that you don't see them very often… If at all. The desert has a funny way of getting people closer, people who struggle to survive in its environment, and yet it also drifts them away- The wind blows in every direction separating every small particle of sand, and maybe one day they'll meet again, or maybe not. Cruel was it, with its breathtaking beauty and extremely cold personality for someone so hot and merciless.
You often associate the desert with its forgotten god. You tend to talk about it as a person rather than just an environment of harsh conditions, you always remember to talk to it, hoping it would listen in a way. You were pretty much by yourself out there, but thinking that someone was listening to your travels made you feel safer, perhaps not as tormented as the blazing Sun would leave you to believe. You were being watched, and protected, you just knew it!
The proof of it came from one of the greatest encounters you ever had during your travels.
It was really hot that day, King Mustard seemed really tired and you were melting under the blazing heat- You two needed shelter and fast! And suddenly, as if the gods listened to your prayers!-(But quickly threw you two middle fingers)- An immense sandstorm was approaching!! For someone as cautious as you, you couldn't understand where the hell it came from!! It was so sudden and just- There was no indication of it!! At all!!
You got knocked out, and when you woke up- You were… Somewhere strange, like an underground oasis of sorts, hidden in the desert there was a cave of luscious greenery and drinkable water, it was magical how big the place was!! You thought you had died and went straight to Paradise!!
At least, you thought so when you saw a very large and handsome man staring back at you, smiling gently. He had tanned skin and a REALLY long, almost platinum hair! He looked so gorgeous with his green cat eyes that you almost forgot to breathe!
You asked the man if he was an angel, and he responded to you in a language you didn't understand. You were 100% certain that the man was really an angel and yet when he revealed the lower part of his body your face dropped immediately, terror slightly setting in. He was half snake, half a giant snake at that! His tail seemed endless, those dark scales were so pretty yet so terrifying! The gold markings seemed very regal and holy in nature but the endless darkness almost seemed to eat it all up! Like a demon!
You freaked out at first, but when you looked at his eyes, his gentle face- His expression of concern, those big bright eyes, you noticed he really didn't seem to have any ill intent towards you, perhaps you were misjudging him for something he was not. After breathing in and out, you calmed down, never taking your eyes from him, you felt comforted as you realized this creature was the one who saved you out there! And who saved your camel!! He was still really scared of your snake buddy, but you made sure to soothe him.
Long story short, you became friends with a human-snake guy who seemed genuinely very cool! It's a shame you didn't understand a word he said… You suspect that maybe he speaks in a very ancient language and perhaps this means he was REALLY old!! And yet, he seemed just about your age, and you got to hangout with him during your free time.
Poor thing, he seemed trapped down here (though to be fair, it is a fabulous prison to be in-) and he really wanted to catch up with times! So you made it your duty to help him understand the new world, you have no idea why he is here and how long did he live here separated from the rest of the world, but now that you knew how to get there and how to get out- You made it your mission to teach him everything you knew about the modern world.
And although the language barrier was massive, you two somehow got to learn something very special about each other- He shared with you his name, "Rakaski", and you got to teach him yours.
~"[y/n]"~ His accent was heavy, and yet you felt something flutter inside you whenever you heard him call your name. You remember him repeating your name over and over again as if he wanted to memorize how to say it.
After hearing his name, you made sure to research it, trying to find something that could lead you to know what language he was talking in- But no books nor people seemed to know how to speak it, except for one book you found, a fairytale book that was so old that it was a nightmare trying to understand the vernacular! But it didn't seem like a very "old" old kind of book, it was probably made after the language had changed, there were a lot of words that you didn't recognize.
The book never explained the name's meaning really, but it was always used as a common word- And given the context of the story you read, it seemed to mean either "falling" or "god"? Well, you're not very sure, since the book was confusing as hell, and your interpretation of the story was very mixed- Was it about a desert deity or a man that kept tripping over in the sand?! Seriously, why did it have to be so confusing!?
In the end, you still didn't understand the book and neither did you find out anything about Rakaski's name. At least you know it was older than your home kingdom, which was pretty cool.
Either way, the lack of communication never stopped you from coming down that hidden paradise to talk to your best friend every opportunity you could! King Mustard can be very squeamish whenever you guys try to get down there, he really disliked going there and you assumed it was because he was claustrophobic, which you already knew he was. So, today you'll leave him in the shade and get down by yourself, you don't want to stress the poor thing.
"M-Mustard! King Mustard Junior The Third, stop pushing me around!! You know you're a lot heavier than me! Seriously, this isn't funny!!" Ah, King Mustard, for a camel you're really just a scaredy cat! You push him away gently as you can, he keeps positioning himself in front of the hole you want to jump in.
"Hey stop!! If you don't want to come then fine, but let me get in! Please! I'll be back soon!" The massive animal was starting to get a little too agitated, and you knew better than to try to force your way.
"Mustard, seriously you're starting to scare me, you know I'll be back soon, please let me get down." You don't know if it was the deep magical connection of friendship that made him understand you and realize that he scared you, or if he suddenly felt disinterested in playing with you right now.
Taking by how the camel sassily walked away you're starting to think it was the second option- Of was he genuinely insulted by your stubbornness? Who knows.
"Sigh… You always get like this when we pass by." Though you can't really blame him, you know he still distrusts Rakaski, but come on it's been a year! And Rakaski has never hurt any of you two! Sure, he was a bit intimidating at first but he had a good heart, you just knew that.
Compared to the men back in your hometown? Rakaski was a saint, you were sure of it.
You had slid through the sandy hole and into the luscious underground with ease, you started to call for him, but before you could even yell out "Ra" you saw him not so far away, seemingly very occupied.
"Awn, guess you're decorating! Have I come at a bad time?" You walked to him and joked despite being aware he wouldn't understand you.
The way his face lit up and turned to face you was just so precious, he seemed very excited!
~"[y/n]!! [y/n]!! It's really good to see you again!! I was already worried you would never come."~ He talked just like you, committing the same mistake of talking as if the other would understand- You had no clue what he said, but as he coiled around you and his arms squeezed you oh so dearly you understood exactly what he meant.
"Yeah, yeah- Missed you too-" You never knew how to deal with anything social, period, and being flustered at someone who wasn't even human was not a first but it never got easier. But with him, at least, you feel like you don't need to pretend that you don't feel slightly flustered by his attention. Gods know you're a very easy target for large and very well built men.
After he let you go, you realized he was just building a new nest for him, so you decided to help him as well. It was already pretty much done when you got in, but you felt like he deserved a "fancy" bed so you helped him decorate with flowers and some of the trinkets you bought for him, he just loved human trinkets!
And by the gods, you knew you were currently in Spring, but these flowers?! They were just so damn pretty, it's a real shame that your traveling is mostly done in sand, occasionally though you have to go to the East to deliver important letters and gifts and you just kinda love that place! Every time you go, they're experiencing a different season, and it all changes so much, it's beautiful!!
"Oooh!! Maybe I should bring you flowers from one of the neighboring kingdoms, it'll be a way to show you the world since you can't leave…" You think out loud, and of course, he looks at you a little confused- And yet he repeats the word you said.
"Flowers?" He repeats it as if he didn't understand what you said, yet liked how you said it.
"Yes! Flowers!-" You say pointing to the flowers in his nest and surrounding you two, he quickly understands it, it seems.
~"Oh! Flowers! Oh, that's what it's called to you? Great heaven's, humans are always changing, aren't they?"~ He starts to laugh, you… Sort of don't understand the joke, but perhaps "flowers" just sounds funny to him.
He patted your head as he laughed, as if trying to congratulate you on making him laugh (I mean, getting this man to laugh was a challenge, you bet even without the language barrier).....
Although, it felt more like a "reward" sort of situation… As if he was rewarding you for… Being so entertaining, you suppose! Still, that's probably just all in your head, besides you know well when someone is being condescending to you, you're sure of it! Years inside your family's house has made you a pro in spotting bad apples from far away. I mean, you like to think you do, to be fair Rakaski was a little difficult to read, and sometimes he did things that you probably weren't sure of what they meant.
But then again, he was a very old half snake dude trapped inside a cave somewhere along the rock formations spread all over an unforgiving desert, his social life was probably a lot worse than yours, and who's to say that his antics aren't based on his own culture? Perhaps snake people like to coil around each other to show affection, even if it's really hard to breathe like this.
Things weren't so complicated between you two, however, as you guys have invented a form of simple and more direct communication through pointing to objects and scribbling on paper. You had thought about using sign language, so you learned a couple of words and tried to use with him-
"So- This means that- Hm..?"
But before you could teach him he already was talking to you through hand signs you didn't understand, he was very well adapted and you only knew a few like "hello", "you", "me" and "see you soon"- Which would be the most used one for you two.
"Huh, you always impress me, maybe you should be the one teaching me-" You bowed down, genuinely impressed with what you saw, and he seemed very content with himself as he smugly pretended to wave and throw kisses to a nonexistent audience. His ego was always a bit inflated, wasn't it?
You decided to cut your visit short and return back to King Mustard as you didn't want to leave him waiting for too long. It's funny how neither him nor Rakaski liked each other despite sharing a diva personality. As you waved your goodbye, Rakaski decided to give you one last big hug.
A hug that didn't seem to end at all. His body wrapping around you and leaving you to feel surrounded by darkness. This usually happened so it didn't come as any surprise. You tried to tickle him as that usually worked.
"Come on now, you know I'll be back soon!" You laughed as you tried to provoke him, his belly was so sensitive that you could see him contracting and trying to avoid giggling.
But he didn't let you go. Your attempt only made him restrict you further, the snake body trapping your hands with its weight.
You were well aware of Rakaski's animalistic tendencies, for example he was cold blooded and constantly held you to try to gain some height, like he is doing now.
You know that when he yawns his jaw unhinges and opens so inhumanly wide that you have to close your eyes so you won't have any more nightmares about it.
You know he is nocturnal so he is constantly feeling a little too sleepy whenever you two hangout, as you often come to see him during the day (which was something you did for safety, though you sometimes worry he is having trouble sleeping because of you-).
And you also know that snakes tend to suffocate their prey with their body before eating them whole.
While trying not to judge him as a human eating monster you still feel very, very terrified of the slight chance he might be hungry and has forgotten you're not food. The more you struggle the tighter it gets, and it doesn't help that his skin is so cold, it makes your nerves flare up as you can hear him growling with what you hope is not hunger.
"RAKASKI-!!" You yell, you couldn't help it, you were starting to feel dazed. While closing your eyes you felt his lower body shift and relax, you felt arms hugging you a lot more gently than the suffocating sensation from before. If it wasn't for his lazy eyes and the internal chuckling you can feel in his chest you would say he was actually hungry for you. He was just trying to scare you.
"Sigh, you'll be the death of me- Seriously you scared me to death!" You tried to push him off you, but he basically threw his entire body weight on you as you fell to the ground with your back on the soft yet not very ideally comfortable grass.
"Shhhh~!" He nuzzles on you while hugging your stomach. Normally he would have let you go now after petting your head or pretending to bite your neck just for funsies- But today he is very much not letting you go, at all.
Okay, you really didn't want to address the situation, you weren't planning on ever talking about it of course but- By the gods, you knew better than to assume his playful smile was just his usual silly self.
Oh, who were you kidding, you knew it from the moment you came in and saw the nest he was making, it's not like you haven't noticed his chest rising and falling as if he was struggling to breathe just by talking with you. You wanted to leave because you noticed that perhaps you took the wrong month to visit him.
It was mating season, wasn't it? Why now? Why today?! And why WERE YOU ACTUALLY CONSIDERING IT?!!!
"Okay I think I need to think about this a little more- I mean you're clearly not thinking straight right, I'm not even a snake lady, man!" You try to push him off you as you avoid eye contact, the worst part is that he was fairly attractive for someone's who's lower body was just one huge snake tail.
He wouldn't budge, he only shifted his head to look at your face, even if you were avoiding him you could feel his smirk creeping around the corner of your vision, you wouldn't be surprised if he knew what you also knew.
I mean, it wasn't a secret you liked him was it? You thought you didn't mind him noticing this but this sudden desire just feels like it's happening all too fast and you're worried it might be just a one time thing, that he is acting like this out of instinct not out of actual desire towards you. And well you never really did this before, I mean not with someone like him, at all! But you had experiences with people before.
Bad experiences. The ones that would leave someone worried for years that they're not good enough to anyone. Were you being cautious or were you just being self-conscious? Were you scared of him not liking you when this high of his diminished? Maybe you just weren't sure if this was a good idea.
"I don't know if I'm really ready for this." You confess, looking back at him- Hoping to find your answer.
And he looked back at you with a sad expression, did he understand what you said? Did he understand what you meant at least? He looked so concerned and genuinely "awake" despite his current very urgent instincts. He held your hand and kissed it for reassurance, you didn't notice you were crying until your vision was blurry and your chest was aching.
"Sorry.." You tried to wipe them yourself, you don't know why you're apologizing. Rakaski didn't seem to take it well, he was about to say something before shaking his head vigorously and wiping your tears himself. He came closer to look you in the eyes, stop staring elsewhere, you won't find comfort anywhere else but those eyes.
He decides to come off of you and give you some space despite his initial reluctance, the gentle and almost warm presence of reassurance leaving with him- And before he could give you space you decided to make the first move yourself.
You kissed him, hoping perhaps he would understand the gesture, and he did! He hugged you and kissed you back returning your neediness… Though coming in with a lot more desperation than you thought. Not seconds after forcing his tongue in despite your unisseanes.
I mean, it 's good! He isn't being horrific at it is just that you have underestimated how badly he seemed to want this. And although you're just as interested in this as he is, you're worried you may not hold to the same durability as he has.
Today was the day. Today had to be day, and he wouldn't have it any other way. To wait longer would be torture and you best believe this man was patient. He wasn't expecting you to almost reject him at first of course, oh you almost gave the immortal a heart attack!
He shouldn't have been so pushy, he knows that, but having your soft lips on his was so worth it that he couldn't help himself as he pinned you down again, ah… It's a shame the nest is so far away, this is not a very classy way to do things.
Then again, ripping off your clothes with no regards was probably not very refined either, humans needed a lot more courting than he was aware of- But it was fine! You were doing just great, you were being so good to him, he wishes he could praise you in your own language so you could understand him.
~"You're so lovely for something so fragile, thank you for accepting me- You have no idea how long I've spent being trapped here knowing damn well there's not a single other like me out there."~ He would praise you in his own tongue in frantic breaths while kissing your neck and nibbling in your ear, while his lower body made sure to lock you in place, you were a little scared, weren't you?
~"I'm genuinely sorry for having to put you in this position but I can't take it anymore- But I know you want this as well, I know you do!"~ He usually was very talkative, but there was something in his voice that sounded shaky, desperate, and his hands were too confused on where and what to grab that you noticed he seemed just as inexperienced as you were.
Well, at least you thought so before he spread your legs and started to rock back and forth in your lower region- It's not exactly that he is inexperienced, but he is very much off his mind right now- His movements aren't uncertain, they're just frantic for any release. Not that he won't tend to you as well, he just really needs this right now. But you'll understand, you always do. You always treat him so well, despite the monster he has become.
~"It'll hurt, and I'm not sure if it's only a little. I promise to make it worth it later to you."~
You were struggling to keep up with his weird and off putting rhythm- He was just so ready for this, it's been on his mind ever since he found you unconscious inside his natural prison, but he knew better than to be selfish to someone he'll have to share a nest with.
~"It'll be great don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be well taken care of. It'll be incredible, my treasure."~
You shivered when he went from humping your lower region to undressing kissing it almost as passionately as he did your mouth- He should probably move a little slower considering he changes activities way too quickly but hey it felt better than the awkward dry humping.
It wasn't bad, but it lacked a bit of finesse- Not like his careful and calculated attention to your privates right now-
"Humans need a lot more work than I remember, but does that mean we can make it last longer? Would you want that, treasure? [y/n]?" Rakaski was playing with it almost as if he never looked at something like a naked human before, but it was a lie- He was absolutely just trying to tease you with every poke and flick.
He ran his finger down slowly before reaching an opening and pulling it inside, at least one to feel you inside. It's lovely that you arch your back to the littlest of things, and although he doesn't understand your words, moans are hardly hard to misinterpret.
"Slower then? I guess I was being too unprepared, I'll be honest that it's more fun than I expected. If this is the work I have to do every time then I'll gladly accept." Human courting was fascinating to him, though now he understands why, he can't just expect you to take it all in with a little help- And helping someone never tasted so sweet.
You were feeling embarrassed by his stare as he licked you out and further tried to spread you- Trying to ease the inevitable soreness that would come but damn, did he have to look at you like that?! It made you feel a little dirty, a little too embarrassed to entertain his idea, for someone who seemed so eager to shove it in without any foreplay he was really taking his time now!
You grabbed his hair carefully, you didn't really notice what you were doing and to be honest you weren't sure how to continue with this but Rakaski looked at you in awe… His smugness was replaced with a look of pure adoration- His pupils wide and round as he expects you to guide him.
It gave you a bit more confidence knowing he trusted you to hold his head and sort of help him find the right pacing.
You don't remember for how long it went, you just remember that it ended with you on top of him, going at your own pace. He held your hips not stopping you to go as fast or as slow as you wanted but rather because he felt very uncomfortable NOT holding every centimeter of you. He needed to grab into something and your sweet flesh was exactly that.
You woke up in his nest, feeling a little disoriented, memories of what happened a little foggy, but you were sure it wasn't a dream considering the soreness in your thighs- It was hard moving.
You sighed, feeling weirdly satisfied- Well, that's not the right word, more like… Well, genuinely happy.
You tried around, and you saw Rakaski curled up into a ball, sleeping so peacefully and yet with that little mischievous smirk in his face you just knew he was dreaming about it.
You turned your body to face him, deciding to close your eyes and sleep a little more.
Until you remembered you left your camel outside.
"HOLY GODS, KING MUSTARD!!" You jumped up, trying to run as quickly as you could towards the entrance- But you couldn't even leave the nest when Rakaski wrapped his tail on you and pulled you closer.
"WAIT! It 's my camel!! I forgot I left him-"
"Stay." He said in a very half awake voice.
"You can talk…?"
"Stay." Rakaski wrapped himself around you, as he buried his face in your neck. You weren't sure if he was understanding what you said, or if he only understood the meaning of that one word.
"Rakaski, I'm just going to check on him, I'll be back soon, I promise-" You pushed his chest away. You shouldn't have done that.
Rakaski tightened his grip around your body.
"Stay. [y/n]. You're not supposed to walk so soon. Stay still, no mother should walk so early after mating…" He still sounds so sleepy, so innocent, but his half opened gaze was not… friendly.
"Rak- AH!-" Tighter, and tighter, and more tighter. He knows damn well that whenever you get to that camel you're leaving him for gods know how long, but as he stated before, soon to be mothers shouldn't walk around in the dead of night especially since he knows humans don't deal well with the coldness of the desert during this hour.
It's better to stay here and let him take care of you while you're now waiting for his kids, even if you aren't aware of it. He isn't sure how long hybrids take to be born, but he wasn't to be there for you every step of the way.
"Shhhh…. Go back to sleep, stop struggling, it is not good for you…" He kissed you goodnight as he suffocated you back to sleep.
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
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seeingivy · 1 year ago
Text
you belong with me
satoru gojo x f!reader
**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series
content: high school!au, gojo is a robotics nerd, reader is class president, emo nanami (my beloved), toji is ur shitass football playing boyfriend, typical cheesy highschool drama
an: tell me why posting this is giving me a tummy ache like I haven't posted for gojo in forever and now i think I suck at it :OOO anyways, please be nice to me about this and close your eyes if you hate it. also, totally reliving my high school days when I was senior class vice president (worst experience of my life) FDLJFKDSJFLS
--
You’re a hater. A self proclaimed, real-life, deep in your soul hater. 
What do you hate today? Being class president. 
You hate that you willingly ran, somehow won, had people up your ass all day about stuff that wasn’t in your control, and got stuck in the current situation you were in. Which was arguing with your boyfriend Toji, as you pace around your room and do your own fair share of screaming back. 
“You just did that shit because you were pissed at me.” 
“I did not, Toji. You know, not everything is about you. Other people needed the money and I put it where it was needed.” 
“To the color guard team? Babe, no one gives a fuck about the color guard team. Everyone is at the homecoming game to watch the football team. Not a bunch of idiots waving flags in the air.” 
“They’re also part of the game and all their equipment is broken. They need it more than you when you guys literally get donors and funding from the district and-”
“You’re just pissed about the sweetheart thing. That’s why you’re doing this shit and taking it out on everyone else.” 
“Toji, I’m not even mad about-” 
You’re met with the sound of ringing over the phone, signaling that Toji had enough and finally hung up on you. You flop straight onto your bed, pushing your face so hard into your pillow that sits uncomfortably against your nose and the smell of your laundry detergent makes its way to the crevices of your brain.
You hear a banging behind you and twist around to see Gojo pointing at his walkie-talkie, switching it on as you reach for yours. It’s still covered in glittery pink stickers from when you were seven, the silver coming off on your hand every time you grab it. 
“Come in, bunny.” 
“Loud and clear, Toru.” 
He smiles, setting his hardware down - probably for another weird ass robot he was making - as he holds it up to his face, talking again. 
“You okay?” 
“Yeah. Just arguing with Toji, again. I’ll start allocating some of our funds to get you some sound proof windows.” 
“Much appreciated, Madam President. That’s very generous of you.” 
You laugh, dropping the walkie talkie to lift your fingertips to your temples, lightly massaging the pulsating under your skin. 
“For what it’s worth, the color guard team is really grateful you did that for them. I know Utahime was so excited when the new flags came in, she was flipping them around on the field for hours.” 
“That’s why it’s even more annoying. I know what I did was right, but he just doesn’t see it that way. Uta dragged me down to the field to watch them and their choreography looks so much better with the multicolored flags. They were really happy about it.” 
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown?” 
“Heavy is the head that’s dating Toji Fushiguro.” 
He laughs as you switch your channel off, taking the last few seconds to study you before you draw your curtains. He can see the tension sitting in your shoulders and how clearly it hurts you to argue with Toji like this. And it infuriates him. That you even have to go to sleep angry and that the cause is the headass idiot you’re dating. 
Toji Fushiguro is lucky, far more lucky than he realizes. Not for obvious reasons. Yeah, he’s a great football player and yeah, he’ll probably get scouted for some really good university at the end of the year. He doesn’t have a shortage of friends or intelligence and for all intents and purposes, he’s loved (which Gojo doesn’t understand at all). 
He’ll probably be that scumbag that people see a few years down the line and then get infuriated at. Because if an absolute asshat like Toji Fushiguro can be successful, then truly all things have gone to shit. That the patriarchy is real, that society is broken, living proof that the asshole always wins and everyone else always loses. 
But no, those are common reasons to hate Toji Fushiguro - ones he’s heard echoed by Suguru and Shoko every time he does something that pisses the two of them off. Like scream obscenities in the hallways, block their parking spots when they’re going to class, call them names when they walk by. 
No. Toji Fushiguro is lucky because he gets to date you. Because out of the long list of girls he had to pick one, Toji just had to pick the one that was his. The girl he’s been in love with since he moved in right across the street and had a smiley neighbor excitedly waving at him through her bay window. 
To him, love has always been the pigtail braids you used to wear everyday in the fourth grade, the matching walkie-talkies you bought him in sixth grade when he got grounded, and that sweet smile you’ve had since the first day he’s met you. 
And when he sees those green curtains pulled against the bay window he’s stared at for years, where he’s loved you from for years, he lifts the walkie and says what he forgot to mention. 
I love you.
--
Thanks to your gracious ride, you make it to school thirty minutes early. Your intuition - that Toji was ditching you as your ride to school this morning - was correct. Luckily, you made it in time just before class started. 
Nanami’s already seated on the green bench outside the classroom, headphones plugged into his ears. As you walk up, you silently wonder how much hair gel it takes to keep his Gerard Way hairstyle in place. 
“Hi Kento! How is my best friend doing on this fine morning?” 
“We’re not best friends.” 
“Sure we are!” 
You reach forward and pinch his cheek in your hand, which he only swats off and rolls his eyes at. That’s how you know your best friends. Because if it was anyone else, Nanami would probably break their hand and walk away. But he always lets you tease him, because he know he loves you. 
“Are you still fighting with that dog?” 
“That dog has a name. And it’s Toji. And I’m not sure, he didn’t pick me up for school this morning.” 
“Did he at least tell you he wouldn’t?” 
“No. I was lucky enough that Satoru had walked Megs to the bus stop a little late and I was able to get a ride with him.” 
Nanami looks over, narrowing his eyes at you, as the hallway starts getting crowded with people. And you know what he’s saying, what he’s been saying for the past few months. 
“You know, it’s very normal to give your neighbor a ride when they need one. Not everything has ulterior motives, Kento.” 
“That’s true. Everything doesn’t have ulterior motives. But he does. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
“How does he look at me, Kento?” 
“Like he’d kiss the ground you’d walk on.” 
You roll your eyes, reaching up to mess up his perfectly styled hair. It doesn’t budge and you get a handful of minty smelling hair gel.
“As if.”
Like you’ve summoned him by bringing him up, Satoru’s sidestepping to where you and Nanami are sitting, Shoko and Getou in tow with him. 
“Nanami~~ How’s my best friend doing?” Satoru says, bending over to totally obscure Nanami’s line of vision.
“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.” Nanami responds. 
Nanami stands up, giving you a look, before he stalks away to his next class. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and Getou standing in front of your classroom.  
“So. I hear you have a robotics competition?” you ask.
“Yeah. Next Saturday. We always practice our hardware out the night before, throw a little party in the lab. You should come.” Getou says, smiling at you. 
Satoru smacks Getou in the stomach right after he invites you, clearly trying to tell him something with his eyes. And then when he catches you staring, he gives you a nervous laugh. 
You get it. He doesn’t want you there.
“Don’t act too excited to see me now, Satoru. Anything more and I might think you like me.” you bite sarcastically.
“What? No, it’s not like that. I just-” Satoru stutters, 
“So you don’t like me?” you say, smirking at him. Shoko and Getou are laughing, the tips of Satoru’s turning pink as he very adamantly tells you that he does indeed like you. 
“I have stuff to set up for the homecoming game that day, so I won’t be able to. But I’ll try my best, yeah?” 
“Okay. Next time?” Getou asks. 
“Sure, Sugar-u. I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” 
You give the three of them a polite smile as you trudge away, leaving to meet Toji at his locker and give him a piece of your mind for this morning. Which leaves Shoko and Getou to give Satoru the scolding of his life. 
“Are you fucking stupid, Satoru? You made it seem like you didn’t want her there.” Shoko says, smacking him on the back of the head. 
“I panicked! Plus, Haibara always likes to play Just Dance and I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of her.” Satoru responds, rubbing the now sore spot on the back of his head. 
“You’re hopeless, Satoru. She’s never going to like you if you keep rejecting her the way you do.” Suguru says, dragging him along to the robotics lab. 
“She has a boyfriend. Who isn’t me. As if she would even consider dating me in the first place.” 
And when the three of them pass you by the lockers, clearly getting yelled at by Toji, it only furthers their argument more. 
“Yeah, I’m sure she really loves him, Satoru.” 
--
Your argument with Toji hours prior simmers in your head, as you wait for the bus to arrive and for this godforsaken day to finally be over. You watch him pile into his car with Salma and the other boys from the football team, which only makes your anger fester more. 
He’s doing this to piss you off. Of course, he’s doing this to-
“Need a ride?” 
You look up and unclench your fists to find Satoru, sparkly blue eyes shining at you and a hand held out to you. 
“Thanks.” 
He leads you to his car, an almost demolished Honda Civic from his maniacal driving, and you climb in, immediately putting your head in your hands. You can feel him moving around you, the engine purring on and him backing out of the spot. 
“About earlier. I don’t not want you to come to the robotics thing. I just thought it was awkward the way he asked you and I-I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come, you know? And I-I’d like it if you came too and so would the rest of us.” he rambles, a hand in his hair. 
You look up, his ears tinted pink from the confession. 
“I was just teasing you, Satoru. I’ll try to make it by, okay?” 
He sighs, a clear breath of relief, and looks over to smile.
“Okay, cool cool cool. Now tell me why you and Toji are fighting.” 
“When aren’t we fighting?” you murmur, pressing your head against the glass. 
“But why?” 
And when you look over, his blue eyes staring into yours, in earnest while the light is red, you unload it all. 
“Do you know about the sweethearts thing they do at the homecoming game?” 
“Uh. That’s when the cheerleaders wear the jerseys right. And then decorate the locker room or some shit for the players.” 
“Yeah. Well, it’s not limited to cheerleaders. It usually is, but if you’re dating someone, that person can do it for you.” 
“So I’m guessing Toji doesn’t want you to do it for him.” 
“Not exactly. He was just saying that it’s more traditional for a cheerleader to do it since they’re also on the side of the track and he wants to see his name out there instead of running around, trying to make sure the game is running and all that.” 
You slump into the chair as Satoru frowns, a pitying look in his eyes, as he keeps driving. You can’t help but watch him, his silhouette against the window - defined jaw, the slope of his nose. 
He’s not the guy who ran away from kissing you in the eighth grade. He’s just ten times hotter. 
You shake your head, letting the thought spill from your mind, as Satoru looks over. 
“Jamoca?” he says, giving you a wide grin. 
You can’t help but laugh, nodding as Satoru makes a sharp left turn, making his way to the ice cream shop. 
Jamoca is your favorite ice cream flavor. Coffee, layered with fudge and almonds, became a proclaimed favorite when Satoru dragged you once in the sixth grade. After very sorely losing the class president battle, you moped in your room for five days - even going as far as borrowing one of Nanami’s My Chemical Romance vinyls to truly and properly mope. 
On day three of blasting the vinyl, Satoru called enough and dragged you to the closest ice cream store, claiming it was the closest thing to therapy that you normies could afford. Since then, any bad day was easily solved with two things. 
Jamoca and Satoru. 
When you make it to the store, Satoru’s excitedly dragging you out of the car, his hand pressed in yours as you both run into the store, giggling while you order your single scoops. And when he drags you out to the curb and you sit there, you silently think to yourself why you ever stopped doing this in the first place. 
Satoru leans over, digging his chocolate fudge covered spoon into your cup, before talking. 
“So. If you guys fight so much, why are you still dating?” 
“Dunno. Feels weird to initiate a breakup, I guess. I can’t see myself doing it.” 
“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart?” 
“Even when he wants other girls to be his sweetheart.” 
You kick the pebbles into the broken parts of the pavement, leaning your elbows on your knees. 
“I don’t know, Toru. I guess he was just the first guy who ever liked me back and then I….spent so much time in the relationship and trying to make it work that it feels weird to let it go now.” 
Satoru swallows hard, eyeing his melting ice cream, as he ponders the best response. Because in earnest, he has two options. Support you or be selfish. Support you to stay with Toji, to do what you’ve been doing because he knows it’s what you want. Or be selfish. Tell you that he you deserve better, that he could be that for you if you just let him. 
He reaches over, flicking you in the forehead. 
“Ouch, asshole.” 
“You’ve got a really big brain in there. And you always have. You’ll figure out the right thing to do, just give it time.” 
And when you give him a halfhearted smile, reaching over into his cup for a bite of his ice cream, he lets it go. 
He can’t be selfish. Not when it comes to you anyways. 
--
After running around all day, you give yourself thirty minutes to go to Satoru’s robotics thing. After triple checking the microphones work, the yearbook team has access to the field, the glitter has been set out for everyone trickling in, and that everyone who could possibly need your phone number has it, you speed run to the other side of campus, to the robotics lab. 
And when you make it, the five of them - Haibara, Nanami, Shoko, Getou, and Satoru - are in the room playing Just Dance. Shoko’s sitting on top of the desk, flippantly moving her remote in the air, while Satoru quite literally is trying to give it all he’s got - and losing apparently. 
You lightly push the door open, which stops the two of them in their tracks, and you’re met with some very excited cheers as they all drag you into the room. You take a seat next to Nanami, giving his cheek a pinch, which he hates. 
“You’re Haibara, right?” 
“You know who I am?” 
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re friends with Nanami and Nanami and I are best friends.” 
“No we aren’t.” responds Nanami, now sulking two seats away from you. 
“Are too.” 
You throw the nearest object, a pencil at Nanami, as you turn back to Haibara and laugh. 
“I like your shirt. Flight of the Navigator is a really good movie.” 
You see Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru’s eyes widen in the back at your words and hear a considerable amount of groaning from Nanami behind you. And after twenty minutes, you find out why. 
Haibara really, really loves Flight of the Navigator. Almost too much. In earnest, you barely remember the movie - at most, maybe the weird little alien companion he has. But here Haibara is, reciting the cast, the directors, acting out the scenes and it’s clear to you that you’ve tapped into some monster they all keep hidden. 
Luckily for you, Satoru comes to your rescue. 
“Okay, Haibara. I’m going to steal her for you for some Just Dance.” 
“I don’t Just Dance Satoru.” 
“Oh yeah? You’re just saying that because you know you’re going to lose.” 
You scoff, knowing exactly what he’s doing. 
“As if, sweetheart. I distinctly remember you banning us from ever playing that game together after I beat you in the fifth grade.” 
“You’re rusty. Maybe we’ll start with something easy. Like Rasputin.” 
“I could do Rasputin in my sleep, bitch.” 
“Prove it.” 
You roll your eyes as you march over to the front, where they’re projecting the game onto the screen. And just for posterity’s sake, you take Satoru’s sunglasses from where they were flipped over on the desk and put them on, effectively blinding yourself from the screen. 
And when the songs start, you can hear them all laughing behind you, Satoru and you hurling insults at each other as you dance on. And somewhere around the middle, you’re sure Satoru must be losing because he grabs your hands and suddenly he’s swinging you around in the air, his hands on your waist as you laugh. 
And when you take your blindfold off and the song dies down, Satoru wins by five points. 
“You asshole. You literally cheated, Satoru.” 
“Did not. You’re just a sore loser, bitch.” 
“You kiss your mom with that mouth?” 
“Every night, sweetheart.” 
You put the palm of your hand in his face as you push him away, moving to sit on the desk. He joins you, the two of you now watching Haibara and Nanami have a very one sided dance battle. 
After forty-five minutes, Satoru’s phone buzzes three times and the smile on his face drops when he checks. You place your hand on his, squeezing twice before asking. 
“You okay?” 
“Huh. Oh, yeah. I-I think you should go to the field. Right now.” 
“Wait, what? But you hate that kind of-” 
He grabs your hand, dragging you out, as you both start running to the field. You keep asking as he pulls you on, getting almost no response and only a faster pace. 
And when you reach the field, you catch just the end of it and the only thing grounding you to that moment is Satoru and Utahime, who was surely the one who had texted Satoru, holding onto your shoulders. 
Salma, the cheerleader Toji picked to be his sweetheart, just asked him to homecoming during halftime. And he said yes. 
Utahime squeezes your hand three times, a soft look in her eyes when she talks. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just thought you would want to know and I wanted to tell you because you’ve been nothing but nice to me.” 
You smile, moving into her open arms as you whisper a small thank you into her shoulder. She leaves, having to return to the color guard team waiting for her on the side, leaving you and Satoru standing on the pavement right by the field. 
“Take you home?” 
“Thanks, Toru.” 
“You want Jamoca?” 
“Not today.” 
He nods, a hand on the small of your back, as he leads you to his car, even going as far as opening the door for you and letting you crack the windows while you drive back - which you know he hates. 
At the first red light, he taps on the top of your head to get your attention. 
“Penny for your thoughts?” 
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” 
“What? Of course, not. Toji is just an asshat who doesn’t see you for what you’re worth and-” 
“No. No, no. Not like that. Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I’m not even the tiniest bit sad right now? I’m…relieved.” 
Satoru looks over, the red front the traffic light flashing on your face, and a blank expression staring back at him. 
“Of course, not. He’s a grade one idiot. Anyone in your position would feel that way, bunny.” 
“I know. That’s true.” 
“But?” 
“Does this make me defective, Satoru? Like, maybe I just can’t like people that much or something and I was the problem.” 
Satoru twiddles his thumbs on the steering wheel, pondering the same question he has been asking for the past few days. Encourage her or be selfish. 
He can’t be selfish with you. 
“Okay, Y/N. Close your eyes.” 
“Huh?” 
“Just do it.” 
“Okay.” 
He looks over, to find you eyelids fluttering shut, your face lit up by the streetlights outside.
“Now. Tell me about your dream guy, bunny.” 
“What are you going on ab-” 
“Just do it.” 
You sigh, before thinking hard about his question. 
“Someone I can be comfortable with. That’s my type. Like we can have fun together and play games but also being around them is comforting to me. Things might suck, but at least they are there to kind of pick me up at the end of the day. They’re nice to people and are surrounded by good company, because you are who you love and they try to be better each day.” 
After finishing, you open your eyes to find Satoru staring at you, an all-knowing look on his face. 
“Bunny?” 
“Toru?” 
“Does that sound anything like Toji to you?” 
You slump back into your chair, sinking down. 
“No.” you murmur. 
“You aren’t defective. Well, maybe in the higher level cognitive thinking part because you clearly have some impaired decision making but-” 
“Hey. Don’t be rude, asshole.” 
“Get out of the car.” 
You crane your head out the window to see you’re in fact not at your house, but at the ice cream store. And when he comes around to your side of the car, opening your door, he drags you out, the two of you eating you ice cream in the light of the dingy lamp outside the store. 
--
You knock hard on your window, only stopping when Satoru looks up from his desk, dropping the pencil he was just scribbling with. You point to your walkie talkie, switching on the channel as he grabs his. 
“Hi bunny. You look nice.” 
“Thank you. Are you coming tonight?” 
To homecoming. Because despite all odds and last night, you still have to go. And crown the homecoming king and queen since you’re the class president, which you’re sure will be Salma and Toji since the universe is very, very kind to you. 
“I’m sorry. Haibara needed help designing something for next week.” 
“Oh. Okay. I wish you were.” 
“I wish I was too. His hardware is Flight of the Navigator themed so wish me luck.” 
You laugh, giving him one last smile as he pulls the curtains to his window. And when you see his navy windows against the pane you’ve stared at him through for years, it only now occurs to you. 
When he asked you to describe that last night, he unlocked something. Bringing it to your attention, to the forefront of your mind. 
The person you were describing is him. You lift your walkie talkie to your mouth, press the button, and mention the words you forgot to say. 
I love you.
And then you turn on your heel and drive yourself to the dance. 
--
Satoru ponders it for thirty minutes. 
Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. Support her or be selfish. 
Be fucking selfish. 
Satoru gets up, dropping the hardware he was making for Haibara, and pulls out the first suit he can find. He grabs his walkie talkie off his desk, convinces Megumi to go beg your mom (who loves Megumi) for your walkie talkie, and then goes ninety on the freeway to get to the school on time. 
He finds Nanami first, the glob of gel on his head somehow even worse than normal and sets his plan in motion. 
“Nanami.” 
“Please, for the love of god, not tod-” 
“Go hand this to Y/N.” 
Nanami and now Shoko are taking the walkie in their hands, flipping it over and inspecting it like they’re the fucking FBI. And more importantly, wasting time. 
Three feet away, you’re standing by the punch table, counting how many balloons are on the ceiling. You reach three hundred and fifteen when you’re approached for the first time that night, by Nanami and Shoko. 
“Nanami. What is going on with your hair? You can’t possibly need that much hair gel.”
“You would be shocked, Y/N.” 
“That's what I said to him too. But this is for you.” Shoko says.
She hands you your walkie talkie, the silver glitter coming off on your hand, as you flip it over. 
“Did you break into my house, Shoko?” 
“No. But I’m guessing Satoru did. He ran in here five minutes ago and basically yelled at us to give it to you.” 
They both shrug as they walk away and you look around, clutching the walkie talkie so hard in your hand you think you might break it. Satoru’s here.
And when you scan your eyes around the room, you see him at the front door, his eyes already fixed on yours. He’s smiling so big that it makes your heart squelch and suddenly you’re moving towards him. And as you both start walking (running) to each other, you can’t help but feel the anticipation of what’s coming. 
Except that’s right when Toji stands in the middle of the two of you, his characteristic slimy, sneer on his face. He reaches for your hand first. 
“Can we talk, Y/N?” 
"No."
You shrug your hand off, pushing right past him, as you walk closer to Satoru. You can hear Toji shouting something at you, but you’re too tunnel visioned on Satoru to pay attention. And when you reach him, you’re both smiling so big at each other, that it makes your face hurt. 
He lifts his walkie talkie to his mouth, talking first. 
“Come in, bunny?” 
“Loud and clear, Toru.” 
“I love you.” 
You can feel yourself smiling so big, so excited that you’re basically jumping on your toes, your walkie shaking in your hand. 
“I love you.” 
“Oh thank god. I was scared I was going to get a breaking and entering charge.”
You laugh, pulling him down by his tie and kissing him square on his face. And when he pulls away, ears pink and face red, you whisper against his lips. 
“It was always going to be you. I belong with you.” 
He smiles, that stupid smile you’ve stared at, loved for years and you can’t help but cheese, leaning forward to kiss him again.
--
the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist
taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom  @k0z3me  @kayleegomez  @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea  @skzismyhome  @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters  @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry
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stellamancer · 8 months ago
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considerate (reader x satoru gojo)
notes: blah blah blah comfort fic. lmaoo. um, i love steamed buns. i bought some frozen pizza buns from my local japanese grocery store during the writing process. they are indeed good. if you have never had them i hope you get to try one day.
contains: f!reader (inferred to be wearing lingerie), tsundere-ish reader, eating food, gojo. part of the infinite loop fic verse
wc: 2k || read on ao3 (account required)
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All you want to do is sleep.
It’s been a rough week— three difficult missions back to back with no time to rest in between. By the time you’d finished the last one, you were practically dead on your feet. It’s times like these that you’re glad for the room you have on the campus of Jujutsu High; you think you’ll collapse before you can make it back to your actual apartment.
In fact, you almost do anyway– you’re barely through the door of your room when the exhaustion tries to take you by force. It takes every fiber of your being to at least shed your curse-stained clothes before you become one with the bed.
Your sleep is blissfully empty.
And it ends far too soon.
A loud series of knocks forces you from your slumber. You groan and pull the pillow over your head as if it’ll make the sound stop, but it doesn’t. After a few minutes of constant, incessant banging, you finally give up and crawl out of bed.
There’s only one person you know who would relentlessly pound someone’s door and when you throw your door open you find him— Satoru Gojo on the other side. He’s dressed casually, comfortably in sweats and a hoodie, for a day off, sporting tinted glasses instead of that blindfold he likes so much.
“What?” you demand.
Gojo peers at you over the top of his glasses, lips twitching as if he’s trying not to smile. “You need a minute?”
Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
The smile finally makes its way onto his face and you can’t help but feel annoyed. Gojo points at you with a long, slender finger and says. “Matching set, huh?”
It’s then that you realize that you are only wearing your underwear.
Embarrassment surges through your body. You had forgotten that you hadn’t bothered changing into any sort of sleepwear— you’d only taken off your dirty clothes. Mortified, you slam the door in Gojo’s face.
If thoughts could kill, one of you would be dead on the floor right now; you haven’t quite decided who yet.
You shuffle around your room and throw on the first set of comfortable clothes you can find. Just as you’re fitting your head through the sweatshirt you hear him knock again.
“I’m still out here!” he hollers.
“Get lost!” you snap.
“But I brought food!” he whines. “I brought steamed buns!”
His words make you pause. When was the last time you ate? Yesterday morning? You don’t feel particularly hungry, but that could be because you just woke up.
“They’re getting cold!”
You weigh your options. Accepting food from Gojo is far from the worst thing in the world. It also saves you the effort of going to find something; it’s your day off, and the less you have to move the better.
With a heavy sigh, you finish dressing before opening the door again. The second Gojo comes into view, he beams at you and holds up a plastic bag from FamilyMart. You reach for it, but he raises it up, keeping it out of your grasp.
“Now, now,” he tuts as if he is reprimanding an overeager child. “I was thinking we could share. There’s way too many for one person, don’t you think?”
You don’t know how many steamed buns are in there, but you’ve seen Gojo eat: you know he could polish off that whole bag. Honestly, you probably could too. “Wanna bet?”
Gojo grins. “Sure. If you can’t finish them all then you have to spend the entire day with me.”
Not the way you’d want to spend your day off. “And if I can?”
“Then you get to have all the steamed buns I bought!” he says cheerfully. “Awesome prize, right?”
You scowl. “No, that's a shit prize and you know it.”
“Okay then, what kind of prize would you prefer?” There’s something ominous about the way Gojo’s looking at you right now; he’s smiling but you feel almost as if you’re looking at some sort of feral predator. Letting you choose your own prize sounds like some sort of trap and you wouldn't put it past him to twist whatever you choose to suit his own agenda.
“...can I think about it while I eat?” you ask.
“Sure.” Gojo shoots you a knowing smile, fully aware of the fact that you're just trying to buy time to figure out how to get out of whatever he's scheming. He hands you the bag of steamed buns and pushes past you into your room, settling himself against the wall opposite your bed.
You peer into the shopping bag and even though he said he’d brought steamed buns there’s other stuff in the bag. Some other miscellaneous snacks, candy and a few bottles of water and Gojo’s favorite brand of cola. A little excessive, but then again, everything about Gojo is excessive. You fish out the paper bag holding your food and hand the rest to Gojo before plopping back onto your bed. Knowing who bought them, you expect to find only red bean buns and custard buns in the paper bag; after all, his sweet tooth knows no bounds. But, to your surprise, there’s actually a bit of variety. You recognize the smooth tops of what are either red bean buns or custard buns, but also the crimped tops of what are likely pork buns as well as…
“Pizza buns…?” you mutter quietly, fishing one from the bag. Similar to the pork buns, they have a crimped top, but instead of a pale off white of a regular pork bun, the bread is a pale orange color.
Gojo chuckles and you look up at him. There's a cocky grin plastered to his face. “They are your favorite, aren't they?”
You gawk at him, heartbeat stuttering a little in your chest. He’s right; they are your favorite, but you’ve only ever mentioned it a handful of times.
It’s… surprising that he even remembered.
Gojo always manages to catch you off-guard when he remembers the little things like this. It really shouldn’t surprise you; he’s the same way with his students, and yet…
Your heart skips yet another set of beats.
“Did you finally fall in love with me?” he asks, sounding infinitely amused.
His question reminds you that, surprisingly thoughtful or not, Satoru Gojo still remains to be the most annoying man in existence. “Absolutely not.”
“Well, if you say so…” His tone makes it clear that he doesn't believe you and you know better than to try and convince him otherwise; Gojo can be as delusional as he wants. “Better eat up before they get all sad and cold!”
“Yeah, yeah…” You grumble. “Thanks again.”
You shove the pizza bun in your mouth. It's the perfect temperature: hot but not enough to scald your tongue. You finish it in a few bites and grab another. From the looks of it, there's probably a little over a dozen steamed buns in the bag. You think that's doable as you polish off your second bun (a juicy pork bun).
As you start to eat the third (a cheese curry bun), you notice Gojo staring at you over the top of his glasses. His eyes, unnaturally bright and blue as always bore into you; and something about his gaze is almost expectant, waiting— for what you don’t really know. It’s kind of weird, honestly, you would have expected him to play with his phone or whatever, not just… watch you eat. Without averting your gaze, you slowly take a bite into the steamed bun.
Gojo continues to watch you.
Creepy.
You keep staring back at him as you finish the third bun and you don’t break eye contact as you reach in for another one. Gojo continues to watch you, his expression focused. You’re starting to get a little unnerved now. It doesn’t even seem like he’s blinking. You shift a little to the left and his eyes follow the movement.
Halfway through the fourth bun (a custard bun), you decide to finally say something. “Do you have to stare?”
Gojo snickers, mischievous. That never means anything good. “Yeah? I mean, I have to make sure you eat them all, don’t I?”
“...do you think I’m going to shove them in my shirt and hide them or something?”
For a split second, his expression falters, the briefest look of shock crossing his features before he snorts. “You’re welcome to try, but it’s an automatic loss if you do!”
You roll your eyes and shake your head. No way that you’re going to waste perfectly good steamed buns. That just means you’ll have to ignore Gojo’s incessant starting.
Which turns out to be easier said than done.
After your fifth bun, you’re starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Almost like you’re an animal in a zoo. Not only that, but you’ve noticed that Gojo’s been slowly moving closer. He started over against the wall, but now he’s practically at your feet, staring up at you. HIs pupils are blown wide and it’s almost like he’s staring into your soul.
You stop eating.
You wait for Gojo to say something, some smartass remark or tease you about being full or something.
He says nothing.
Gojo only continues to stare at you, silent as his eyes look impossibly bigger. It doesn’t just look like he’s begging for one of the steamed buns, but for something else. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as you try to figure out what it could possibly be. With each second, the thumping grows louder and louder and Gojo seems to be moving closer and closer despite being still firmly planted to the ground.
Is it you that’s inching toward him now?
The realization startles you. Why would you even—? Panicked, you reach into the bag and pull out a bun at random and shove it in Gojo’s face. He makes a surprised sound but it’s muffled by the bun.
“Just take one already!” you exclaim, pressing it to his mouth as hard as you can without smashing it to pieces. It occurs to you that he might gloat about you feeding him by hand but you’ll deal with that later. You need to get him to stop looking at you like that now.
He laughs, triumphant as he removes the bun from your grasp and takes a big, big bite out of it. “Looks like I win. As usual.”
You merely grumble, watching as he polishes off the steamed bun in no time flat. He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers and you hand him another. It’s fine. Just because you can finish all these steamed buns doesn’t mean that you should.
As for having to spend the entire day with Gojo… You try to look on the bright side and tell yourself that there are worse fates out there. After all, you could be working.
“So, what do you want to do today?” Gojo asks mid-bite.
“I don’t really wanna do much of anything,” you grouse. You suppose it’s nice of Gojo to ask, when you know the reality is that you’ll be at the mercy of his whims for the rest of the day. Mentally, you brace yourself to be dragged around Tokyo, shopping or whatever it is he likes to do on his time off.
Gojo chuckles softly and the sound of it makes your stomach drop. You don’t like it. Something about it is dangerous. “Okay, let’s just stay here then, play a video game or something.”
You can’t help but stare at him. Then you think of the snacks and drinks he brought along and the fact that he’s dressed more for lounging than going out. You wouldn’t put it past Gojo to intend to occupy your entire day, but could it be that he planned to just hang out in your room the entire time? Playing video games or watching movies because he figured you wouldn’t have the energy to go anywhere.
No.
There’s no way that the most selfish and annoying man you know is that considerate.
Gojo tilts his head to the side and offers you a gentle smile, eyes glimmering behind his glasses. You swallow thickly, nervously, ignoring the odd feeling in your chest. There’s just no way.
No way at all.
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after many hours of playing video games with gojo you muster the energy to tell him you want to go out to eat. he pays. it's not a date (it's so totally a date).
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popponn · 11 months ago
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things about sae.
it's sae's turn in my brain microwave. i want to understand you, underlashes senior. headcanons +observation+ rambling. spoilers, will be updated as time goes on.
scathing, mean af vocabs. pretty rude even as a child. but compared to rin, his cursing seems to be much tamer.
is REALLY focused on soccer. but also said in the character interview to not "only be able to/focus on soccer like him".
but in his introduction to u20 shows that he seems to value someone who goes all in to soccer. and it's kind of in line with the things he "admits" and chided. example a: shidou and isagi being individuals who are undeniably soccer obsessed (though on isagi's case as they haven't even talk, if i remember correctly, this might be more because of isagi's way of winning through "making use of luck"). example b: things he said in the u20 introduction in response to sendou.
headcanonish but this guy is giving me "burnout gifted child" vibe with all the prodigal status, expectations, and being hit in the face by the world. like what are you. are you satisfied by marina??????
there are few moments where he displays something that is pretty close to 'praise', but say it not to the related person/group himself. (i.e. his thoughts of blue lock in locker room, his comment about "dont switch out any of the u20 member".)
like is he being not nice on purpose????? honestly probably. headcanonish, but if seeing his way of giving comments to rin pre-spain, it's been like that since he was little. (i will check rin's ln again later)
in contrast to rin having "natural luck", this guy seems to more " making/seeking luck". but idk yet, with only ice cream sticks as clues. sae backstory and ln spin off when.
his eyes during the confrontation with rin in that snowy night are pretty expressive. but since visual cues leave a really wide room for interpretation + bllk tendency to subvert things, i will not comment. but honestly i really agree with the sentiment that sae was hurt by rin's words, but in the end the discouragement seems to come more from a place of "i don't want you to get hurt so just go home and don't play soccer anymore" (very very hc and more of an interpretation, as sae's pov is still non existent)
aka yeah, this guy is shit at displaying concern and any sort of care. headcanon but. do you see the vibe??? with rin???? like it's similar. what is this genetic.
simple fashion, but pretty trendy and chic(?).
this guy seems like a family guy who misses his family a lot. (please make up soon with your lil bro)
watches chibi maruko chan. has habits that genuinely reminds me of old people (drinking tea, looking at sea, thinking of family).
people at blue lock think of him as someone who seems to be good at study, but looking at the pattern of hyperfocused people in blue lock it either goes two way: a) his skill at everything else is questionable at best, abysmall at worst ; b) he is an all-rounder indeed.
but then again there is also the third type aka "good at football, still functional at everything except communication and emotional management skill".
his way of talking in jp is, to put it simply, pretty casual like guys his age. the thing that are the rudest part of it was his choice of words and the fact that he seems to talk like this to everyone. even his elder. and also the way he is very blunt in expressing his opinion.
but somehow that bluntness is gone when it came to showing vulnerable emotions. talk about emotional constipation.
if his character interview is reliable and unbiased, as it is from sae's own pov, his relationship with his parents seems okay.
genuinely wondering about his parents' canon response to his and rin's cold war.
does he even have friends. no like seriously.
his brother and him are really similar in many ways. rin is probably copying him in some ways tho—that, or rin's own issues. or sae's own issues.
please just make up with your brother. (2)
after spain his bang is gone. as in he just pushed them up. in u20 it still went down sometimes in a few panels.
he likes numbers. maybe he really is smart.
genuinely looking at him like "please get a hobby" not even as an insult but out of genuine concern. this dude has so many issues and the burnout child prodigy vibe is real strong with this one.
but not fully his fault. pretty much live alone overseas, probably with no friends his age and just a manager as his support system, went through a crisis, is a (probable) family loving guy with his family far away from him, then came home to his beloved lil bro he spoiled and dotted on and shared a dream with saying hurtful things to him on his lowest point. and not supporting his new decision and dream. from sae's pov, it's brutal.
i can defend rin on this too tho. honestly please talk to each other, itoshi bros. or acknowledge that maybe neither of you were in not in the best state of mind during that confrontation.
seems logical and he does likes numbers. but honestly, he just acts as he wants—look at how he talks to journalist, how he has 0 hesitation to leave an ongoing match.
went to spain at 13 according to rin's spin off novel. also mentioned to "hate to lose" and seems to be a strict perfectionist.
must be noted however that how rin sees him seems to be very biased. a bit of rin analysis/hc, but there seems to be "putting nii chan on a pedestal" going on there. how their childhood truly is from sae's perspective is still unknown. on rin's part tho, seems to be a very nice period.
is rich. so the snobby rich condescending guy aura is probably not that far from the truth. his sense of money seems to be a mess, as a few hundred millions is a small amount for him.
this guy seems to be picky with who he respects and he really doesn't hold back in disrespecting someone he doesn't. even higher ups and older people.
does skincare canonly.
doesn't seem to have friends so far...? (nel arc, before pxg match) but if we look at how rin is now, unsurprising.
in rin's novel, rin's physique is mentioned to be "better" than sae's actually. with how "rin wins in luck" while sae "loses" motive exist through the ice cream sticks, probably this motive will come up again when sae appears again.
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wolfjackle-creates · 2 months ago
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Wow. I am blown away by the response to my bang fic so far. I did not expect a Jazz POV fic with a (relatively) rare pair to do half so well as it has.
But here's another scene I love from the first chapter. Consider checking out on AO3 if you haven't already!
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Twenty minutes later, they were curled up together on Dick’s bed with the lights out. Jazz had insisted on being the little spoon. After the last few days she’d had, she wanted nothing more than to have her boyfriend curled protectively around her.
“Jazz?”
“Hmmm?” she replied, already half asleep.
“Do you— Are you— Is it good for you, to work with metas in trouble?”
Her eyes flew open and she stared into the dark room. Any hint of sleep was gone as she lay there tense. Dick’s arm tightened around her stomach. She took one deep breath, then another. “You’re worried because of my brother.” It was a statement, not a question.
Dick hummed, “We’re similar in some great ways and some terrible ones. I want to make sure taking cases like Callum’s isn’t going to keep you wallowing and unable to move on.”
Jazz screwed her eyes shut against the burning. “My brother is dead,” she said, the half-truth ash in her throat. “He is dead and I couldn’t stop it. His powers only made him more of a target and not a single adult tried to stick up for him.” Each word was harder to say than the last. “If I can keep it from getting that bad for anyone else… I need to do it. I wouldn’t be able to face myself in the mirror if I didn’t try.”
“Okay,” said Dick. “Okay. I believe you.”
Jazz forced herself to relax again. Of course Dick would be worried. If their positions had been reversed, she would’ve asked the same thing.
Just as she was starting to relax, Dick spoke again. “Would he have liked me?”
Jazz sucked in a breath; behind her, Dick tensed. Before he could apologize or try to take back his question, Jazz replied. “Danny hated every guy I dated in high school.”
Dick’s arm tightened around her, and Jazz grabbed his hand to thread their fingers together.
“I can’t blame him, though. I dated some horrible guys. The worst, get this, he only dated me because he was part of some weird magic cult. They fucked up a ritual or something and he wanted to use my body as a host for his real girlfriend’s soul when her body got destroyed.”
“What the fuck?” asked Dick. “Didn’t you grow up in the middle of nowhere? That’s some Blüdhaven or Gotham shit.”
Jazz laughed and squeezed his hand. “The corn makes people crazy. Now hush, let me answer your question.”
“Sorry,” said Dick, but Jazz could hear the smile in it. And feel it when he kissed the back of her neck.
“Quite all right. Now, Danny, as I said, he hated every guy I dated.” She bit her lip. Despite the jokes, she struggled to talk around the lump forming in the back of her throat. “But none of them were good guys. If I had been able to introduce the two of you, he’d be mistrustful. And probably try to interrogate you.” She chuckled, though it was a bit wetter than her normal. “Not that it’d phase a police officer like you.
“But… Yes, Dick. Once I’d convinced him to give you a legit chance? He’d have loved you. The two of you have the same sense of humor, the same sense for justice, and the same disregard for personal safety. I’d go gray worrying about what the two of you were up to behind my back.” She let out a shaky breath and repeated, “He’d have loved you.” The truth of that statement burned more than the lies and Jazz kept herself still so Dick wouldn’t notice the tears she couldn’t stop.
It was a long moment before Dick replied. “Good. I’m glad.”
“Now, let me get some sleep.”
Dick kissed her spine again. “Good night. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
-----
Read more on AO3
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preciousmomentsfigurine · 2 months ago
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hey, is anyone still here? looks like the last time i was on here was two years ago and change. things are really different now, but i guess then again it would be weird if they were the same
i was thinking of returning to this dead site because for a good fifteen years it was a big part of my life and provided me with a unique way to express my thoughts and ideas and feelings and opinions and musings to an audience of people who can hear me but not truly know me outside of my words that i share on this platform. and on the same coin i enjoy following the lives of people i know nothing about and watching their stories and selves develop and evolve from a complete distance in every sense
i'm five months sober now
i have a hard time pinpointing when exactly i became an alcoholic, but i guess i could say i dealt with it in some degree for about eight years, and progressively, as it always goes
i graduated with my masters last may (2023) in critical media studies where i spent my time writing and researching feminist cultural social and media theory. i produced a great deal of work i was and am very proud of including a thesis that is honestly my life and heart's work but unfortunately over the course of those two years my drinking escalated rapidly and by the end i was manically and drunkenly banging out papers and essays in the dead of night sleepless and naively inspired
somehow i got a 4.0 though despite that. everyone in my life always says i played off my drinking well anyway. beats me how or why
once i graduated i practically immediately began drinking all day every day while somewhat-hardly-kind-of-not-really looking for work which was fruitless and i quickly learned my degree i worked so hard for meant practically nothing to employers who were merely looking for experience i dont have outside of my teaching background in grad school
for almost exactly a year i was drunk 100% of the time i was awake
same old story, at some point i switched to bottom shelf pints of vodka, which constituted my breakfast lunch and dinner. sat on my couch in my filthy apartment occupying my filthy poisoned failing body either watching tv or causing problems somehow
this was when i was twenty-nine. for a while now i had known in my heart of hearts i wasnt someone who would ever be able to handle my liquor or drink like a normal person, whatever that means, and that too much was never enough, and that it was literally impossible to function so long as booze was a part of my life. any attempts to "cut back" or "take breaks", i knew, would end the same way, which was waking up to shots of room temperature vodka and being a prisoner to the worst shame a person can feel
i figured once i turned thirty, which was this march, that would probably be about the time i got sick of my own shit and said goodbye to the bottle. which i undeniably felt a kind of affection toward as if it were a lover. still do in a sense and thats why ill never flirt with it again
my sobriety date is april 16th 2024. my last drink was a shot of vodka at 8:30 am on the 15th after creating massive gashes in my upper arm the previous evening during a blackout fight with my boyfriend
im still unemployed and extremely mentally ill and my bipolar has gotten progressively worse over the past couple of years and will likely continue to according to what the science says and all of that. after my last manic episode last month i adjusted my meds (again) and for now they seem to be working but i don't hold my breath really
i do AA and i like it a lot, i do it my own way, i have a sponsor who approaches the program liberally and progressively and shares many of my comorbidities and has allowed me the freedom to define my relationship to the program and god in a way that works for me and i have made incredible strides through this. i have become a far far far better person.
being sober is easy and i never want to drink. not once not ever
ive never worked so hard on myself in my life because i got as close to death as i ever had and ive been very close at many points in my life for many years. when i was drinking i knew i wouldnt make it to see 35 if i continued as i was
therapy, AA, meds, a whole fucking lot of discipline
ive been with my boyfriend for two years and wed like to get married. thats nothing that will happen anytime soon but it is nice to think about. he has been by my side through unimaginable things that any sane person would not have stuck around for. he is my heart and my soul
im also trying to start applying for jobs again but im genuinely on the fence if i am capable of holding a full time job due to my severe mental illness. im exploring a bunch of options right now as far as that whole thing goes. the future is very uncertain as always
let me know if you see this or remember me or anything.
bye for now
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enixamyram · 28 days ago
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Long Rant About Greek Retellings
This is a post I'm using to vent. Feel free to ignore it or not, I just need to get these thoughts out in the open.
Summary of my rant: It's dumb to hold the "crimes" of the original stories against retellings that change these things. And stop being an asshole to people who write/enjoy harmless retellings.
This comes about because TikTok's keep popping up on my FYP and they're genuinely making me want to bang my head against a wall.
The most common that I've seen is people bitching and moaning about the artist on Webtoons who is doing a retelling of Ganymede's story. These people are definitely the worst since I saw them bragging in the comments about how they are constantly tagging the artist (aka, harassing them!) in other videos about the original story and messaging them and just being bullies. Now this is just shitty in general because I'm pretty sure the artist has stated this will not be a romanticized version. But for the sake of my rant, let's pretend that it is. Let's pretend that someone is retelling the story of Zeus and Ganymede with a romantic focus.
Why is that so wrong? I keep bringing up Hades and Persephone because they are a perfect example of this being done multiple times. Both Persephone and Ganymede's stories are incredibly similar with them being kidnapped, held hostage and eventually settling in their new lives. Obviously there are many versions, but one of the versions I read had both of them coming to enjoy their new lives and being happy there. Now in our world, we would agree that's very Stokholm creepy coded but back when these were written it probably wasn't intended that way.
Now if someone decides they want to rewrite the story, fixing the toxic parts of the story (eg. having Persephone willingly go with Hades because she fell for him before he took her to the Underworld and having her willingly eating food in order to stay with him) and keeping the later romance... That's fine. There's nothing wrong with that. There are many retellings and reboots that try and "fix" things that didn't quite work in the original and I'm always in favor of that because it's interesting seeing another version of this updated.
So if someone wants to age up Ganymede and rewrite it in however they choose to write it, why is that wrong? People against it usually respond with "in the original...!" and my response to that is: This isn't the original! That's the whole point! If you genuinely can't let go of the original source, then I suggest you don't read/watch anything that retells it.
Another example I want to give is Calypso. I'll admit, I don't know her original story (I really want to look it up because I'm curious but as of writing this, I am ignorant to it) but since Epic has blown up, I've seen a lot of people talking about her. Especially during her song in the Vengence Saga and a bit of a debate has started over whether or not she's genuine or manipulative. Now whatever your feelings of her and her story/song, I just want to focus on one thing I saw, again on TikTok:
Someone said they hated people making Calypso's story a tragic one, that she is the villain and nothing will undo her S-A-ing Odysessus and - I'm literally quoting them here - "not even if you do a retelling where she didn't"...
Am I alone or is that the dumbest thing to say?
You can feel whatever you want against the "originals", but you cannot hold the original toxic traits against retellings, especially if they make a point of changing these things. That's ridiculously stupid. If you cannot handle this, then don't read/watch retellings because you don't actually get to dictate what story someone tells or how they tell it.
If you want an "accurate" (I use that term very loosely) story of Ganymede or Calypso, then bloody write it yourself. Don't give artist and creators shit because you don't like the choices they made.
One side note I wanna add: You cannot have a high horse against retellings unless you have somehow successfully managed to avoid the dozens and dozens of retellings that have existed all our lives. Just for a quick example, every Disney version of the Fairy Tale is a retelling of it that changes details to make it more romantic/fix little details like the ages of the princesses at the time.
I have my own personal opinions on certain stories. I'm not a fan of Hades and Persephone stories that demonize Demeter. I might make a post saying as such, but then I will move one. Because there's nothing wrong with a retelling, even if I don't personally find enjoyment in it. And giving others a hard time because they don't agree with you on this is just the height of arrogance.
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spliffywhiffy · 4 months ago
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Ranking all 17 models least smelliest to smelliest
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@Spiritualsole @Lajana_48 @Ennies.cutie.toes @anas_sockss @bebe_darling666 @Feet_of_me2 @Cecelarue @Gretacutefeet @Ditteslegsandfeet @Secretlysmellingsusan @Madsoles_2 @Dirtyambre @sophiamaturefeet @Aryafootgoddess @Beebinksy @Elsa_wang5200 @Candycrushsoless
Here are all the models that have taken part smothering the poor slaves so far. Some models have had different routes and others have their eyes set on other slaves. This is the list of all the models from least smelliest to smelliest. But please. Don’t think they’re all weak. None are. It’s just the worst are SUPER bad.
17
We have SpiritualSole. Not taken part in too much but trust when I say that Arizona heat makes her feet bad! She has no issue stinking up a room.
16
We have Belle. A model with chunkier feet but also not been involved in too much. She is one of the shyer ones but will not hesitate to smother you. Sweats easily in shoes so often bare foot.
15
Sabine. The first mature model on the list. This German punk loves a concert and adores the outside life. More importantly. Loves her smother boxes and loves the colour red. Don’t fuck her off. She’ll stink you out
14
Ennie. One of the newer models on the list and one of the more thicker foot models. So thick she could easily drown someone under her feet. Quite often found in heels that make her feet quite a chore to deal with.
13
Annie. Probably one of the sweatiest girls on here. She loves her nylons and will almost definitely bring a tear to someone’s eye. Has potential to be one of the smelliest but she just doesn’t push herself as much as the others.
12
Feetofme. Our next mature model. Probably the most wrinkly of all of them and larger in size. Also adores a smother box. She could quite happily listen to the bangs for air all day. Be careful of her unwashed sweat rag.
11
Cece. One of the newest models here. Also near the top 10. Fuck! For a slim girl she has some chunky feet. Loves when their victims beg for air. Often bare in her goth shoes and often described as cheesy footed.
10
Greta. Used to be just a model. Now a Domme expert. Often partnered with Arya which makes for a deadly duo! Loves her pedicures and enjoys the power over a man slave.
9
Ditte. Getting into the gritty stuff now. Ditte loves her nylons and has a huge foot size. Can get her feet pretty damn nasty and nothing pleases her more than smothering her roommate. Her feet are not for everyone as she is heavily calloused and tattooed.
8
Susan. Another newer model but holy shit. Her feet reek!! Used to go by the name of murder. Good reason too. I am certain she she tried to kill people just using her odour. Don’t think you’ll get mouth breaths with her.
7
Sophia. Mature model Sophia to put it bluntly. She just stinks. Especially after being in heels. Cece is cheesy but not as cheesy as Sophia. Smother box guy was nearly sick because of Sophia.
6
Arya. Gretas companion nearly in top 5. Another model who chose the domme life. What makes her worse? Her sheer size and ability to sweat. When her toes wrap around your nose. You aren’t going anywhere. You better hope you can break free.
5
Amber. Also known as dirtyambre. It’s in the name. You do not want to go near her socks. They are ghastly. Almost sickening. Her one goal is to cause misery.
4
Maddy. Yeah speaking of thick soles. Maddy is up there. Also with a giant foot size and her insane stink ability. Good luck with her. The only advice I got is don’t make her angry. She will kill you.
3
Bee. Another newer model but she is prepared to cause hell. She will force you against your will. She will make you cry and she will laugh. Begging doesn’t get you out. Nothing does. She just wants to make you suffer.
2
Elsa. Only been in one session so far. Probably for the best. Look at that foot! She smells and she knows she does. Wears a face mask to protect her from her own feet at the expense of others. Can stink up an entire house.
1
Candycrush. The absolute smelliest. The absolute deadliest. She loves her own feet smell and forces others to take it. Wrinkly feet, Sweaty feet, giant feet, stinky feet. She has it all and she will give it all. No safe words ever. Never session with her. Stay away.
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Hey can you write a Chop Top x Reader where the Sawyers go on vacation with the Readers shitty and practically dysfunctional family? I know it’s so specific but I am currently on the shittiest trip of my life and I need some comfort from my favorite cannibals. If my parents instigate a fight one more time I may go insane!!?!?! 🖤😛
Bullshit for brains (GN! Reader x Chop Top)
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Premise: Y/ns parents are being buttholes. Again. ON A VACATION. Chop Top comforts them
Word count: 619, I know, it’s short
Tw: swearing, slight angst, suggestive, fluff
“Now I-I’m sorry y/n but your parents sure do have sticks up their asses…” Chop top observed with the his usual bluntness. Thankfully, you two were only on the balcony of the second floor of the Y/L/N Lake House, out of your parents hearing, and he had managed to keep his blunt remarks to a minimum in front of your parents. “You can sure as shit say that again…” y/n sighed, leaning their head on the shoulder of their significant other. Most of the trip had already gone wrong, from the canoes flipping over, to the storm that had trapped y/n and Chop Top in with their parents for a few days, to the lake being practically unusable from waste, but the worst thing of all seemed to be y/n’s parents, who seemed to have a favor for throwin’ shit at the fan right whenever things weren’t already bad enough. “It’s been the third time they’ve fought and it’s only two days into this damn vacation. They always seem so damn unhappy with me, like I can’t do anything right. They wanted me to get a partner, so I did. But noooo they can’t approve of him or anything. I’m just so sick of their constant disappointment in me…” Being a cannibal most would describe as a monster, few things could make Chop Tops heart throb like the crack in your voice whenever you brought up your parents. “Now, Y/n, hey…” Chop Top had never been particularly good with emotions, but he did know how it felt to be disproved of. I mean, people might’ve said that Vietnam was bad, but part of him liked the fact he didn’t have to deal with Draytons constant reminders of his inferiority. Part of him liked bein’ away from that. So he could understand how shitty it was to have what’s supposed to be your parental figures acting like damn fools. His hand reached over to squeeze your shoulder, almost subconsciously as he tucked a piece of wild hair behind your ear, poking it playfully. “Y’know, y/n… it really ain’t yer fault your parents are too fuckin’ stupid to see how amazing you are. I mean, you’re successful, you’ve managed to get a boyfriend, you’re hot as shit, you’re smart, probably too smart, and… really. If they ain’t see all that, they just got bullshit for brains.” Y/n chuckles at that last analogy. “Bullshit for brains, huh? I like that one.” Y/n looked up at the setting sun, the colors blazing across the sky into what would eventually become darkness, and smiled a smile that always made Chop Top smirk in pride when he was the cause of it. Y/n always found some comfort in the lenses of Chop Tops point of view of the world… even if it was a bit… wonky, to say the least. “This is the part where you kiss me, babe.” Chop top teases, leaning in with an overdramatic duck lip that makes you snort out in laughter. “I am so not kissing that face…” Y/n laughs, pushing him playfully away. “Maybe- maybe just a bit…” y/n teases, grabbing Chop Tops face in the palm of their hands and planting a neat, brief, soft kiss on his lips, grinning at his face, which has light up like a child’s on their birthday. “Y-you know, I think you may just be the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Chop Top says with an almost uncharacteristic genuineness, poking your face to make up for it, almost as if he can’t remain serious for to long. “Now, let’s go bang.” He smirks, grabbing your waist. “In your dreams, dude.”
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strawwritesfic · 2 months ago
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Joel x Female!Amputee!Reader: (Don't) Hold Your Breath [Ch. 13]
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Summary: You’ve made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn’t even at the top of the list. Now you’re about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian–and they’re not about to let you learn them the easy way either.
Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives
Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)
Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Female!Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Ellie & Reader; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy
Tag List: @imaginesfire
Master List (with important note!)
Rule #13: Don't wander; things around here will kill you.
Winter soon blended almost seamlessly into spring, bringing sweat, surging creeks, and constant reminders that you were still stuck in fucking Jackson County, Wyoming. Months had passed—exactly how many, you could not say for sure, what with all the fucking blacking out you had done in the beginning—but your arm seemed only to improve in its ability to not bleed all over your shit. Pain still shot up your non-existent limb at odd intervals; your writing remained indiscernible, and your shooting shoddy at best. You could hardly lift anything heavier than a fucking fork.
Worse still, your sudden and extreme klutziness had not passed. Walking was manageable most of the time, but climbing? You could probably forget that. Joel’s continued swim lessons did not boost your morale. Arm or no arm, however, you were pretty fucking sure you weren’t getting out of the settlement. Everyone just turned a deaf ear to your requests to leave.
As the weather grew warmer, you grew cagier. Even Ellie began to tire of your attitude. “How about you suck it up and do the jobs assigned to you?” she would demand. “Focus on not fucking those up, and maybe Maria’ll trust you with something more exciting!”
But how you were supposed to suck it up when a line of cut-rate hunters paraded to the gates in front of you every fucking morning, you had no idea. They would pass by the farming patch assigned to you, and all you could do was glower at them in return.
Farming was the absolute worst fucking job that Tommy had come up with for you yet, barring teaching, but you weren’t about to remind anyone of that fiasco. You thought kitchen duty had been bad? Ha! The little plot of land dedicated to the attempt at growing corn was crammed into one corner of the settlement and looked after by twelve different people. When you weren’t bumping elbows trying to pull weeds, you were banging into everyone else tearing up grass for another patch.
It didn’t take a fucking genius to figure that farming outside was a better idea, but Tommy had his reasons. They were not reasons that anyone explained to you. Ellie would mutter them around you sometimes when she got fed up with the rest of them keeping you in the dark. Part of you appreciated the subtle gesture; it meant that you could act smug towards Joel when he got particularly aggravating. Another part of you wished she wouldn’t bother. Did she really think you gave two flying fucks whether or not some of the night watch was getting shot at during their shifts? Less of them meant it would be easier for you to break out for a midnight stroll.
But rules were rules, whether or not people gave a reason for them. Only the hunters and the watchmen were allowed outside. Ellie’s classes had been moved into a small, stuffy building inside, too. You got the feeling that if she had not been allowed swim lessons, she would have long since run off herself.
After another long day of breaking ground for the future sugar beet plantation, you returned to your closet-sized room to be alone. Your lack of skill in handling any sort of instrument with grace meant that your team was forever on your ass about doing things right. You could scream at them all you liked, but they had figured out by now that you couldn’t do jack shit to them, and that meant a never-ending tirade of insults and jokes at your expense. Add to that the fact that showers didn’t exist anymore and you were dirtier than you could remember being in years, and you wanted no part of the late dinner set up for those that took a little longer to finish their work.
You had just settled into your filthy blankets for the night when someone rapped on your door. Assuming it to be the man from next door to shout about how you’d stolen his fucking pillows while he was out the previous week, you only turned over and shut your eyes. The pounding only continued.
Ten straight minutes passed with him pounding a steady beat into the door. The only thing that changed was the intensity of the knock. It got to the point where it felt like he was pounding a steady beat into your head as well. For fuck’s sake, they were just pillows, and you’d given them back to him as soon as he tried to shove your head into the wall!
“I don’t have anything else of yours asshole,” you snapped as you threw the door open. It flew open so hard that it hit the wall outside your room with an echoing bang. A few complaints drifted through the rest of the hallway. “Yeah, like you and Mr. Nine weren’t keeping the rest of us up with your screaming last night, Miss Eleven!”
It had become apparent upon opening your door that your visitor was not your next door neighbor. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, Joel stood there, and he looked slightly amused when you finally turned your attention to him. Entertainment had not been what you were going for. You snorted and stuck out your chin as you leaned on the doorframe.
“What do you want? I don’t have any of your pillows either.”
“You’d have a hell of a time getting ‘em,” he said, already turning to leave. This meant, in Joel speak, that you were to follow and not waste time asking questions. You practically had to bite your fucking tongue off to avoid the urge. As you did so, you glanced once at your empty bed, then pulled your door shut behind you. Joel had not waited for you. He was still striding down the dark hallway when you caught up with him.
“If you’re about to tell me we’re going for a midnight swim, I swear to God I am killing you and leaving your corpse to rot right here.”
He answered by opening the door that led outside and gesturing sharply for you exit the building. With a massive sigh and roll of your eyes, you did. Now that the sun was down and had been so for several hours, it was really fucking cold outside. It was probably late March or early April, and snow was still not entirely unheard of at night—which meant that you didn’t want to be out there. It was cold enough inside. Scowling, you thrust your unprotected hands into your armpits and stamped your feet until Joel reappeared again.
“Yes, because I want you to catch hypothermia,” Joel said. His tone of sarcasm was almost identical to Ellie’s; at least you knew where she got it. Before he gave you a real answer, he started to lead you across the grounds. His voice, then, was muffled, except for the occasions when he turned his head enough that he could make sure you were following. “We’re low on watchers for tonight. Ellie says you’re goin’ stir-crazy. Figured putting you on duty might help alleviate some of your frustrations.”
You had two options now: Take the assignment like a champ and get killed by an intruder, or complain about having to go alone and have to admit you weren’t up to snuff. Neither sounded particularly appealing.
Joel caught the meaning of your silence. “Ellie and I’ll be there, too.”
The fact that he could read you so easily was really fucking annoying. Your face didn’t warm; it exploded with heat. “Fucking bastard! That’s not—”
“Let’s forgo the tantrum tonight, shall we?”
He came to the place in the wall where you were presumably supposed to be stationed. Joel was too good for stairs or doors, so he simply hefted himself up. While he busied himself arranging his things, you stood on the ground, frowning at the lights in a few of the plant’s windows.
Spring had revealed a number of untruths that had been shared with you upon arrival: Namely, that Tommy’s settlement was not, exactly, a power plant—at least not one that burnt fossil fuel. It was actually a dam. The water had frozen before you got there, which explained Joel’s comment about the gates needing fuel. Now that the rivers were running again, Jackson looked almost like a real town.
“’Scuse me, but are you planning to join us?”
You looked up to see Joel crouched over the edge of the wall with one meaty hand extended in your direction. Biting back a retort that you’d much rather go join your bed, you neared and jumped high enough to snatch his fingers. Joel caught you and lugged you upwards. A moment later, you tumbled over the cement and onto the flat portion of the wall.
A flash of light caught your eye, and you looked up to see what could only be described as a makeshift camp site. The light came from a tiny fire burning brightly in between two rickety chairs. Ellie sat in one chair, grinning at your inability to land upright. At her side were her backpack, a small stack of comic books, and a few bags of…fucking marshmallows?
“What, are we having a party instead?” you asked as you stood and brushed the dirt off your sleeves.
“Why not?” Ellie replied, settling into her chair. You noticed there was not one for you, but then decided that you didn’t care. They both looked uncomfortable as fuck, and you’d rather Joel spend a miserable night of having splinters shoved into his back than you. Grumbling, you tramped over to the space in the middle and collapsed there.
“I don’t know, because there’s a fucking sniper out there that’s picking us off, and we’ll probably get killed?”
“We’re not gonna get killed,” Joel said. “And it’s not a sniper.”
“Oh yeah? How the fuck do you know, Mr. Big Shot?”
“‘Cause a sniper would’ve managed to kill somebody by now. Besides, it’s not the right kind of bullets being shot. It’s just someone out there with a bone to pick, and I reckon we can manage them before they manage us.”
“And so we’re having a party?” you asked flatly.
“It’s a campout. It’s a family tradition, and Ellie hasn’t got to go on one yet.”
“You mean sitting in the dark and waiting for the clickers to get you doesn’t count?”
“Aw, lighten up, [Name],” Ellie broke in. “There are four other teams on the lookout, and me and Joel aren’t going anywhere. Marshmallow?”
You shoved the offered bag away. Your stomach shuddered at the thought of how out of date those had to be, but Ellie just shrugged and popped one in her mouth like it was nothing. Great. So now you were expected to be awake for at least five more hours, and you’d still have to be up in time to water the corn. On top of all that, you had to deal with Ellie and Joel’s fucking nonsense all the night long.
At least it did not take long for either of them to fall silent. Soon, the only sounds were the fire cracking quietly and Ellie chewing on her snacks. You tried your best to ignore that last one and simply stare alertly into the surrounding woods. At the first sign of trouble, you were going to dive back over the wall and let your two companions deal with their own problems.
“Is that what it was like?” Ellie asked after cleaning out her first bag of marshmallows.
She had clearly asked the question of Joel, but he appeared not to hear her. Fuck, that meant it fell to you to work things out. “What was what like?”
“Camping with your dad.”
“No,” you said.
“Why not?”
“Because things out there weren’t going to kill us.”
“That’s not true,” Joel said. “There were always mountain lions and bears and the like.”
“Fine. People weren’t trying to kill us.”
“Serial killers.”
“Are you trying to pick a fight with me?”
“It’s working, ain’t it?”
“How about you, Joel?” Ellie asked hastily. “Is this anything like when you went camping with your dad?”
Joel picked at his chin for a moment. “Always went camping with my mom. Dad died.”
“You mean…before?”
“Yeah.” He drew out the word in a long sigh, though his body language indicated that he was not bothered by the subject matter in the slightest. “’S no big deal. Mom was good at what she did. Tommy cain’t even remember ‘im.”
“What happened?” Your voice was a murmur; it was not a question you wanted answered literally. In it was a string of more serious questions of the kind you asked yourself every night: What happened to all of us? Why do people leave? Why does everyone spend their lives clinging desperately to their fleshy cicada shell until their souls are cracked out of it?
Joel answered literally anyway. “Drunk driving accident. I was six.”
Your mouth half-opened, but to say what, you didn’t know. That was just so…mundane. To think that there were people out there still alive that could remember when people didn’t die alone in the middle of the woods, half-eaten with fungus or hunger or bullets.
“How about you, [Name]?” Ellie asked. “What happened to your dad?”
This was fitting payback for you having asked Joel. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the images and sounds started playing as vibrantly as a movie: Shouting, jeering, gunshots, makeshift bladed weapons, fire, crying, burning, running faster than you had ever run at any state competition, finding Brycen, wrenching him away from his sobbing friends, running faster, running farther, running into the dark.
“He—”
“Shh.” Joel lifted an arm. You fell silent and shot him a confused look. His eyes were fixed somewhere in the tree line. “I think I heard something.”
Ellie quickly shifted into a better offensive position and lifted her pistol. You shrank into the shadows. Something in the distance snapped, like a branch underneath a heavy boot. Joel stood with his finger already on the trigger of his revolver. Silence buzzed like a nest of angry hornets; you almost longed for the sound of a ticking watch to break the quiet.
“I can get this entire place up in arms before you get to the gate.” Joel hardly had to lift his voice to get it to carry all the way across the grounds. Almost everyone else was asleep, and the other watch teams weren’t making any noise. “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you comin’ out now, nice and easy, with your hands above your head and your gun where I can see it.”
No one answered. You held your breath, waiting. Then several more twigs snapped, very loudly at first, then faded. In a flash, Joel was to the outer edge of the wall. Something flew through the air at Ellie. She caught it, and when she looked at herself, you saw Joel’s walkie-talkie in her hands.
“Hey. Wait,” Ellie said, but Joel cut her off with a sharp look.
“C’mon, [Name].”
“What?” Ellie demanded.
He looked at her. “If something happens, I need you to get ahold the other teams and Tommy and Maria. They might actually believe you if you are the one that makes the call.”
“But she can’t even—”
“Don’t argue. Just pay attention.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he leaped over the wall. A moment later, a soft whump sound announced that he had landed. A very prolonged pause followed. Your eyes remained fixed on the point where Joel had disappeared, then flicked over toward Ellie. To say she looked displeased at the developing situation was an understatement.
“Well?” she asked, in a tone that clearly indicated that most of her frustration was to be directed at you. Why the hell was that? It wasn’t as though you’d fucking asked Joel if you could come along with him. Speaking of Joel, if you waited much longer, you’d have to deal with him giving you shit about that, too. Without another glance in Ellie’s direction, you tossed yourself over the side of the wall. It surprised even you when you landed on your feet. Joel, much to your surprise, was too involved with the current predicament to say anything, let along offer you a typical jab about your lack of coordination.
“You ready?” he whispered.
All you could do in answer was withdraw your own handgun from the makeshift pocket stitched to the outside of your frayed pack.
That must have been all he wanted, because he gave you a single nod and continued, “Good. Now, stay close and don’t wander. You were right earlier when you said things out here will you.”
“Things back there will kill me, too,” you muttered, but this elicited no further response. Joel crept across the barren land surrounding the settlement. Every so often, he would pause and listen intently for any indication of an attack that didn’t come. Several minutes of this went by before he slipped through the electric fence at the very border of the territory and into the forest beyond.
Once inside the trees, everything sounded more muffled than before. Something scurried in the undergrowth. An owl hooted dolefully above your heads. You held your breath, praying that whoever it was that had disturbed that little “campout” had just run off. Unless there was another convenient plank—or better but more unlikely, a lead pipe—sitting in the middle of the woods, you were royally fucked. There was just no way that someone trying to pick off watchmen at Jackson had come alone.
Joel held out an arm so quickly that you almost barreled into it. Once you came to a complete stop, you looked up to see him holding one finger up to his lips. That was enough to tell you pay attention if you valued your life, and you most certainly did. You’d come this far; you weren’t about to give up now.
He motioned for you to loop around. Maybe Joel had heard something that you hadn’t. Maybe he just wanted you out of the way. As he slunk into the darkness of a nearby cluster of trees, you took a deep breath. Well, you’d wanted to be a big girl and be out on your own. Time to put those big girl panties on and get the job done. You picked through the branches in the direction that Joel had indicated. Probably he was taking care of things without you there to fuck things up. Typical Joel.
For a long while, you heard only the sound of your boots scrunching into the still-moist leaves beneath them and your breath whistling quietly in and out of your nose. Your eyes squinted in the utter dark. The moon was nearly finished waning, and the light you did have wasn’t much help, especially since you did not want to risk turning on your flashlight in case there were runners around to complicated matters further. Then it occurred to you: You’d last seen Joel quite a while back, maybe even as long as fifteen minutes ago.
You were lost, and there was no way of calling out without attracting attention.
Luckily for you, this situation soon resolved itself without you having to do much of anything. Another something nearby cracked much too loudly to be a small animal. When you whirled toward the noise, a loud bang accompanied a bullet whizzing straight toward you. You tumbled backward without thought, landing on your butt with a loud, “Shit!”
A dark shadow rushed out of the trees. You lifted your own gun and fired three very shaky shots before your attacker was upon you. Thick, gloved fingers wrapped around your throat; you thrashed about, whacking every inch of them with your limbs. Your pistol smacked into their head; you might have managed to smash them into a nearby trunk a few times. Still, things were looking bad—until the sound of even heavier running footsteps erupted into your clearing. Your assailant froze for one brief, wild second, and then they ran off. Joel appeared immediately after. Upon spotting you gasping for breath on the ground, he looked around, made a few quick steps as if to pursue the now-invisible intruder, then seemed to think better of it and crouched down next to you.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Y-Yeah,” you answered, unable to accompany the words with any of your usual vitriol because you weren’t sure that you were.
You had survived the attack—thanks to your favorite person, of fucking course—but you were pretty sure you had recognized the face of the man staking Jackson out. If you were right, it wasn’t just you were that were fucked. From the sound of things, Ellie and Joel, and by extension the rest of Jackson, were, too. Joel probably should have gone after him, but what was done was done, and you weren’t about to dig yourself a deeper grave by admitting something you knew would make everyone else even more pissed off.
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hiemaldesirae · 8 months ago
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Swap au nonny: no plans to write this at all, so go ahead an write away =)
But yeah, Valentino thought Vox had it in the bag--now he believes that Alastor doesn't deserve death, but should be someone's bitch for eternity (he should have been Vox's, but seeing how the deer acts with Vox's stuff, he would probably like that). Velvette doesn't know what to think. She misses Vox terribly, and hates Alastor, and is very upset with Valentino for not going to Vox's distress call--she definitely would have gone, but wouldn't have made it in time as her true demon form doesn't have flight. Velvette basically did most of the work for all 3 sectors of the Vees while Alastor was punishing Valentino and Valentino's souls, and becomes friends with Niffty during those first 4 years. Once Alastor takes back the reigns and Val gets back to work, Velvette goes back to what she used to do too. Like things are mostly unchanged for her. (Mostly because she befriended Niffty and eventually Rosie. Her doing that saved her)
As for Vox's sector? His giant monitor room is clean by Niffty and is visited by Alastor once or twice a month, where Alastor ponders what Vox exactly did in the room. His office has been taken over by Alastor, his last ideas and drawings framed and safely kept in Alastor's bayou space. Vox's contracted souls continued to work for Voxtech...until a day after Alastor realized Vox was back, and that's when Vox gently pulled on their chains and called them to him. (Not like there was many left. Alastor did actually land a killing blow. Vox had to use some of his contracted souls to heal himself, destroying them in the process. But Vox lived, and that's what matters.)
Alastor does say I love you to the head he sleeps with in his bed! Also, I'm sorry, and I didn't mean too, and please come back to me. I'll be better. I'll never hurt you again, my love.
Vox does have PTSD. It's so bad that he has to take relaxation meds to go to the overlord meeting (since it's required for both allied overlords to show now) and Alastor will definitely be there, with his ally Rosie. It's fine though he has Husk.
YEAHHHHHHH YIPPEE THANK YOU NONNY I WONT DISAPPOINT I PROMISE!!!! (question for writing purposes btw. do charlie/vaggie know that vox is there on behalf of lucifer or does he just Show Up)
Urghm. wughd. imgnonna. Throw up. what the FUCK !!!!!!! what thde FUCK...................!!!!!!!!!! valvel going the FUCK through it while theyre both mourning their best friends death and harbouring so sososo much guilt from it all...if hell had therapists theyd need it more than anyone else please someone put the vees together in a cage so they can hug it out :(
oh god als such a fucking freak. i just know hed keep all of voxs old shit like pristine and clean and just looking like it was preserved in time or something, even when hes also making voxtek employees come in to do constant upgrades so that it seems more like something vox would do. trying to hold on to the pieces of him that he still has left while changing them to make it feel as if vox never left in the first place... and also, once alastor finds out vox is alive again, does he jump to the idea of having someone infiltrate the hotel to keep an eye on him or something? cause if he sends his shadow, sure thats not something they can get rid of, but he also doesnt know how well vox will respond to his shadow- even if they were close, alastor *did* kill vox nearly permanently, so is this potentially how the hotel gets niffty?
banging my head against the wall WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE SAYS SHIT LIKE 'ill be better' AND 'ill never hurt you again, just please come back to me'.... makes me think of those like, manhwas or whatever where the mc goes back in time to save someone they loved but treated like shit. they make my heart hurt what the FUCK nonny why would you do this to me.... urgh. the worst part is knowing alastor is that he does honestly probably mean it but in like His way. the toxic doomed yaoi way. like he's going to kidnap vox and keep him by his side forever if it means the other won't get hurt and almost leave again. which is usually a good thing because again. freak4freak radiostatic enthusiast here . but for swap!vox... oh my poor dear. he's probably freaking the fuck out whenever he sees al. is there even any ending where radiostatic gets a happy end :sob:
ough i can imagine husk just like standing protectively in front of vox during the meetings or something, like if rosie tries to get close to him or something he tells her firmly to leave because even though they were friends, vox cant even look her in the eye anymore because in his eyes, she *knew* what al did and still stayed by his side. she knew he killed vox and probably condoned it, and she'd probably help him do it all over again if they could- or at least that's what he thinks, but she really is just trying to get close to him again and cant understand why he's pulling back so hard. and the image of al trying to approach vox after a meeting or something only to be met with val and vels interference as husk takes vox and flies him back to the hotel- valvel get punished severely afterward for keeping them apart, obviously, but theyd do *anything* to keep vox safe especially because last time, when they didnt do enough, he almost died forever
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