#took me a year to find a caption... and not even a good one

[httpsserene]

hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰��: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

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oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now. 

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate. 

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental. 

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back. 

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives. 

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed. 

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened). 

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science. 

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline. 

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver. 

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug. 

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch. 

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed. 

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap. 

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?” 

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

© httpsserene2023

[fushipurro]

All That I Wanna Hear

☆ Synopsis: It's halloween night in 2018 and while you're home enjoying a good horror movie to pass the time, you get a text from someone claiming to be your long deceased husband. Your current partner isn't all that thrilled once he finds out, but soon the night turns into more than ghosts and goblins.

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, fluff/smut/angst all in one, breeding kink, creampie, praise kink, oral sex, established relationships, pet names, threesome, anal, foreplay, slight hurt/comfort, shameless smut, porn with plot, i meme a lot in this, toji and satoru bicker a LOT

☆ Word Count: 5.5k

unknown sender daddy long dick just landed in shibuya baby, where you at, mama?

you excuse me?

unknown sender shit doll, you didn't change your number, did ya? it's toji.

you that's a sick joke, asshole

you at first thought it was just some kids having fun. it's halloween, right? the time for pranking others even if the "joke" is downright cruel.

hell, even satoru was playing into it when you got a notification of 10 million yen being added to your bank account on top of at least 500 missed calls from the same man and more coming.

he's supposed to be out chaperoning some of his students for some halloween fun in shibuya. his group consisting of your two kids megumi and tsumiki along with a few others you've come to love like your own from their school.

you offered to come along with them to enjoy the festivities, but satoru insisted that you stayed home, all bundled up on the couch watching all your favorite movies and what not. a "well deserved break" he called it.

over the years he's done similar things ever since you first met him twelve years ago when life as you knew it completely shattered into a million pieces. instead of your husband coming home, you were greeted by a grim reaper clad in white hair and a school uniform.

before even attempting to respond to the flurry of notifications, yet another call from said reaper came blaring through with their face front and center. your own throat felt like it was closing in on you, desperate and grasping for air as every emotion fought to escape you. you picked up the phone, finally hitting that green button and instantly hearing the frantic voice of the man on the other end.

"you're home, right? stay where you are, i'm coming over right away."

"what's going on satoru? are the kids okay? what's with the money, the calls, the texts─"

"everyone's fine, just stay put! i'm almost there!"

your phone buzzed in your hand with a new message, a selfie image from the unknown sender with the caption "proof enough, sweetheart?"

sure enough, it was like looking at a ghost. a man with hair as dark as his surroundings, the piercing green eyes, the scar over his lip. not to mention the awkward angle the photo was taken at like he wasn't sure what he was doing or where to look when he took the photo. whatever phone he was using was nothing close to the old nokia he had in the past buried in your nightstand and it showed.

"...what the fuck?"

you could hear satoru asking, "what's wrong?" from the speaker of your device.

"there's no way, right? you're supposed to be dead??" you choked out, tears falling from your eyes onto the phone screen. this was a sick joke, right? there's no way your husband is alive after being dead for twelve long and grueling years, it's just not possible.

...right?

satoru burst through the front door to your home, "y/n!? where are you?!" he breezed to the living room hoping you were there, and sure enough you were.

he stood in the doorway panting, finally seeing your eyes lift to meet his with tears streaming down your face. "this is a prank, right? he's dead! i don't like this, it's not funny. . ."

he sped towards you, throwing your phone to the other end of the couch and pulling you in for a hug. there was no way he could lie to you, he saw it himself already while he was out with his students.

is it wrong for satoru to want to hide the fact that your dead husband somehow is now revived? 100%. he didn't like toji one bit especially not after almost losing his own life to him and surviving from the miracle of reverse cursed technique. he also hated how broken you became after toji died, because he killed him. he caused your pain. it was because of those actions that you were left alone to shoulder the weight of two kids in a cramped decrepit apartment you hoped to move out of someday soon at the time. satoru did not want to ever see that happen again to you after you finally allowed yourself to try and love again.

you aren't a sorcerer.

you aren't a killer.

you didn't deserve this.

toji kept a lot hidden from you about the jujutsu world and the many horrors in it, especially the acts he once committed. he changed for you as much as he could since the time he locked you down with a ring to the day he died. he forwent killing others and used his hands only to love and support life as best as he could.

he had no regrets over falling in love with you, but he also struggled to find his place in the world again. everything he believed he knew and did best centered around taking the lives of others and without that, he wasn't anything. but he had you, and the kids, and that gave him every reason to try.

when confronted about the impossible task of killing a girl being guarded by the one and only satoru gojo, he knew it wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world. toji also knew that he was the only one capable of doing it with the right methods and plenty of patience. the rewards he'd reap afterwards would be enough to coast through life in the way that you deserve and with functional appliances and hot water in the shower. even if it meant bloodying his hands one final time, it was always for your sake and yours alone.

satoru had no chance to even open his mouth before a deep voice familiar to both of you sounded from the front door he didn't bother to lock in his haste to get here. not that any lock or door could ever hope to stop the being that is toji fushiguro.

"daddy's home~, where's my angel at?"

"how the fuck did you find her?" he turned to face the man with a hostile glare.

toji scoffed, walking over to the couch, ignoring satoru in the process as he cupped your tear-stained chin to meet the smile always reserved for you.

"missed ya, sweetheart," he slowly admired all your features intently. twelve years is a long time and while you're still young, you're not immune to signs of aging. however, you can now say it's cute that you both carry the same small creases around your eyes. the idea of growing old with your soulmate and actually getting to is a miracle in and of itself.

seeing him once again like this made you sob mercilessly, if you could call whatever you were doing before that. the sheer force of many emotions overtakes your body. you're grasping his body and face praying your hands don't slip through like ghosts on TV. "toji, how are you alive? i buried you myself!"

"haven't a clue, but i couldn't care less about the reason. i'm back now and i'm not leaving you ever again."

he hooked his hands under your arms and pulled you up off the cushions and into a tight hug, one you've missed after the many years of sleepless nights in a bed far too big for one person.

sure, they were seldomly spent with satoru, more so as of late. he was there for you when no one else was or could be. you hated him at first, but you grew to understand everything that happened and he helped you learn to love again. you hated too that toji had done something so stupid that cost him everything, but you understand why and came to terms with it.

he shot a glare at satoru who was kneeling on the couch with his fists clenched and a sour expression. "you can go now, kid. my wife and i have some catching up to do."

"i'm not going anywhere." he hissed.

"i wasn't asking." toji growled in response. he leaned down to meet your lips, instantly making your body shiver. saliva coating your lips like gloss with a flavor that made long dormant senses come alive like flowers beneath a tundra.

it was like a dream, i mean, how else could your dead husband be kissing you again? yeah, cursed techniques can be crazy sometimes, given what you learned from satoru, but raising the dead? it was nigh impossible tampering with life in such a way.

there is no other way you could explain this. here before you is a man that looks like toji, sounds like toji, acts like toji, tastes like toji. everything about him is the toji you knew and you swear you can feel your soul humming for him like a human beacon.

one kiss wasn't enough. it never is with toji and you never used to complain about it. they start soft and supple and quickly turn into bites and feverish grabs, yearning for more. but the circumstances now are different than before. "t-toji, wait─"

"what's wrong, baby?" he interjected, "you know how much i missed ya?"

satoru shoved his hand in between the two of you, infinity protecting him from the possibility of toji's saliva getting on his perfect skin. "you've been dead for a long time, in case you forgot. people can move on with their lives."

"what are implying?" he narrowed his eyes at the man. "you been touching my wife in my absence?" toji got his answer when he saw your flustered gaze. "sweetheart, he did tell you how i died, right?"

"yes, but it's not like that, toji." you sighed, stepping away from the men and returning to your spot on the couch, resting your face to your palms. "satoru showed up out of the blue that day telling me exactly what happened. about everything, including the job you hid from me."

"yeah and she punched me too." satoru chimed in, making toji chuckle with pride.

"eventually, i forgave him, yes. it killed me that you went and died over some stupid pride. it's not like either of you are perfect people though, no one is, and i get that." your voice was cracking with grief and anger you haven't expressed since that day. "i just wish you would've talked to me instead of deciding for yourself what you thought was best. . ."

toji seated himself at your side, rubbing his hand on your back in an attempt to comfort you like he always used to. "i'm sorry, y/n. i never planned on dying that day and leaving you, i was stupid and i know it."

"i know... it was hard though- and satoru has been very kind in helping our family out after it all."

toji shot a look to the man keeping himself quiet to not disrupt the moment, but this time it wasn't one of anger. satoru returned his look with his own troubled expression.

"he took megumi and tsumiki in like they were his own kids, paid our debts, bought this house for us. he's even their teacher now, training and keeping them safe. oh you would be so proud of how they turned out, toji."

much to satoru's dismay, toji pulled you into his lap with your back to his chest. large hands resting on your stomach with his head in the crook of your neck delivering soft kisses to calm your relentless sobs of grief.

toji wouldn't say so right now, but he's the reason satoru came to you in the first place. he wasn't expecting much when asked what his final words were, but when regret washed over him over his choices, toji had one final hope to ensure you had the life you deserve.

"i'm home, sweetheart. m'not going anywhere ever again."

toji wasn't much of a jealous person. even after twelve years apart from you and another man filling the void, he only had himself to blame for leaving you and everyone else behind.

satoru on the other hand felt differently, but his jealousy wasn't about pride or broken promises. it was about you and sustaining your happiness.

the man you loved who got himself killed now walking back into your life by some blessing from above. the life of someone satoru has grown to love and care for. he never asked you for much in return, only that you'd give him a chance and you your own to love again beyond toji. at first it was merely about making things right for someone who didn't deserve the situation they were placed in, but it never stays like that. it always grows into something more. if you water and care for a plant, it will grow and bloom, as simple as that.

and just like with toji, it's never stops with one kiss. like a cactus waiting for a monsoon to drown it or the golden light of day to feed it. his soft kisses soon turned into bites, his breath fanning your neck behind your ears and his fingers kneading into the plush of your waist and working up to your chest.

"toji, w-what are you doing?" you blushed, squirming from not only the tongue striping your ear but the boner poking your back through the fabric.

"shh," he coos, "just lemme show you how much i missed ya, okay?"

"huh?" satoru groaned.

calloused hands began pushing back the hem of your shirt as he found his way in around your breasts.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"the fuck does it look like, brat?" toji hissed at the man. "gonna make love to my wife, right mama?" he said, moving his hand inside your shorts and over your mound, toying with the sticky fabric. a husky snicker filled your ears, "so wet for me already. can't wait to taste your pretty pussy again."

"fuck! toji~," you leaned into his touch, digging your nails into his thighs to balance yourself as he slithered his rough digit between your folds, gathering slick around his finger tip to work himself inside.

"so tight for me. fuck, i missed this. has he even been treating you properly?" he smirked at satoru.

the white haired man had enough sitting with on the sidelines, scooting in front of you blatantly ignoring the scowling husband.

"why don't we show him how i treat you, princess?"

oh how toji wanted to put him in his place, but then he thought about the fun you might have with both of your love interests filling you up. toji died, time passed, he gets it. but now, you have the chance to indulge yourself in something you never would've done before.

a mischievous grin tugged his scar upwards. he leaned back, propping his hips up to adjust himself and bouncing your body up onto his lap, back against his chest.

satoru took the invitation and closed the gap between you, muffling your moans with his tongue against yours while circling your chest with his hands.

you're toji's after all. your rings still nestled on your finger unmoving after all these years. what's the harm in some temporary enjoyment to celebrate his return?

from your mouth, satoru leaned down to tongue the buds on your chest after removing your top. toji took advantage of your now free opening to kiss you, slipping another finger inside your cunt and scissoring your walls open.

"you have the prettiest tits, princess. no competition, even from jackass back there." his voice humming against your nipple that sent shockwaves straight to your heart and other areas (read: pussy) that made your body flutter.

you were already in shambles, threatening to come apart. your whole body felt like it was on fire thanks to their onslaught of attention. toji's voice filled your ears, nibbling the lobe as he spoke, "you wanna cum, sweetheart? i can feel this pussy just begging for it."

you nodded your head as best you could, "y-yes fuck─ please." with a quick circle of his thumb to your pearl and a bite from satoru, your body unraveled turning your vision white. your body slunk further back against toji's as you settled from the high.

"that's my good girl." he praised, his voice like honey over your ears, "can't wait to feel you clenching around my dick again."

"please please daddy, i need you." you whined as he took his fingers out leaving you feeling void.

his deep laugh only made you shiver and perk up more, "so eager for me? always so good f'me, baby." he raised his fingers up to his mouth, admiring the clear dew before cleaning them off in his mouth. "best taste in the world right here."

satoru slid his head between your thighs, kissing your pearl and jolting your body in the process, "don't forget that i'm here, princess. lemme clean you up a bit."

"fuck, 'toru~," you mewled as he licked a straight stripe up your slit. his tongue savoring the taste before toji lifted your body up and placed you down on all fours on the cushions.

"uh uh, pretty boy," toji teased, "this pussy belonged to me first and will stay that way. but thanks for keeping it warm for me."

you heard toji unbuckling himself, cock springing free right up against your entrance making you squeal out in response. turning your head around, you could see the precum adorning the tip of his overwhelming size.

yup, definitely toji.

"why don't i fill up this mouth of yours then, beautiful?" satoru purred as he kneeled in front of you, freeing his own bulging length from his pants.

both of the men pushed their way into your holes at the same time, a guttural groan leaving you as you adjusted to toji's monstrous size. it worked in favor for satoru, the vibration making him throw his head back.

"shit─ almost like the day we first fucked." he flashed an arrogant smile to the man across from him, "the so-called 'strongest' falling short to a monkey like me?"

satoru returned toji's remark with a cocky look of his own, "so scary~, want me to hollow purple your ass again? that did the job last time."

so long as he wasn't distracted trying to throw hands, toji kept his pace was slow and sensual. savoring every moment he was connected to your body. his grip was sure to leave bruises later on your hips but you welcomed them proudly since it meant you had him again.

satoru had his hand at the back of your head, bobbing you evenly over his cock whispering, "you're so pretty, doin' so well for us."

the cock in your mouth was the first to show signs of his incoming release, now evident by his pace turning sloppy before ultimately releasing his seed as pure and white as his hair all over your tongue and throat.

he groaned deeply, cupping your cheek to admire his handiwork with soft eyes. "prettiest girl in the world."

your praise was interrupted by yet another challenge from behind, "look at that, he cums fast too." toji sneered. his eyes fell to the circle of cream glossing his own length.

"least i actually can." he shrugged in response, only taunting him further. "did you lose your touch in the afterlife, old man?"

"tsk." he clicked his tongue. with satoru out of your mouth, he flipped you so your back was against the cushions.

"toji!" you yelped in surprise.

"sorry sweetheart, but you know how i much i love seeing your pretty face when i fuck you full."

toji entered himself back into you, hips rutting at a faster more rough pace to chase his high. his breathing turned heavy with low grunts in between.

satoru leaned down, peppering kisses across your cock drunk face seeing stars. "hang in there, beautiful, you're doing so well."

with a few harsh thrusts, toji had shimmied himself as deep as he could inside. "want me to give you another baby? give megs and tsumi a new sibling?" you nodded furiously despite not being totally aware what he was even saying through the blood rush in your ears. "yeah? daddy can do that for you, my love. can't fucking wait to see you swollen again now that i'm home."

when you love someone as much as toji, almost anything they say sounds like a good idea when he says it so sweetly to you ten inches deep. you're even more willing to indulge in his antics now after all this time without him. you truly missed such moments, more than you know.

he hasn't even seen his kids yet, oh how shocked they're gonna be when they come home to the literal ghost in the house. inside your womb however was anything but ectoplasm from some spirit. thick ropes of cum shot out, burying you with warmth from the inside and out.

"thaaattt's it... fuck baby─milk me dry." he moaned pleasingly, leaning down to bite into your soft flesh as you screamed his name harmoniously until nothing else could sound.

after a pregnant pause, he finally pulled out, attempting to stuff his seed back inside you before satoru lifted you up onto your knees with your back close to his chest. "c'mere princess, you don't need that stuff in you." as he rubbed his length along your folds, he snaked his arms around your waist and chest to keep you up, leaning into your ear whispering, "only mine," as he smirked at toji's discontented face.

toji ignored him as he took your cheeks into his hand, kissing you oh so sweetly and full of love. you greedily kissed him back, a few tears falling from your eyes whether from satoru pushing up into you or toji's return to you, who knows. both, really. either way, you're beyond happy feeling your heart beating again like it last did twelve years ago. he wiped your tears with gentle kisses, "i love you, y/n, so fucking much."

he wasn't much with words of affirmation, especially in endearing ways. toji cared more about showing his love to you in small acts or teasing. but when your bodies are pressed together, be it through making love or holding each other to sleep, that's when you hear the words come straight from his heart and into yours.

"i love you─ahh too, j-jiji." you smiled blissfully, trying your best to get the words out as satoru's cock thrusted into your sweet spot over and over.

there were plenty of times satoru wanted to interject. as much as he disliked toji, this is the man you had chosen to love before and never stopped loving. despite his own feelings, your feelings are what matter most. that being said, when the moment's over, he's reminding you about the spot in your heart reserved for the honored one.

"if you want another baby, y/n, i'll give you one." he grinned, upping his pace. his balls made a splatter sound with each thrust thanks to all the cum and slick present. "i'm sure we can make the prettiest baby together."

"is that how it is? this is my wife we're talking about, pretty boy." he leaned forward to cup your cheek, trailing his fingers to the back of your head.

"is your memory falling short too, old man?" his voice becoming disheveled, "she's had several years without you to move on."

the hand twined within your hair urged you downwards. toji's hardened cock angry at the tip was begging for attention. before he could do anything, he turned your face up to meet his gaze.

"what's your surname, sweetheart?"

"fushiguro?" you responded, slightly puzzled given your headspace.

"not gojo, huh?" he lined his tip up against your lips, ever so softly saying "i'm glad," before impaling your parted mouth, thrusting deep into your throat. his face conveyed a victorious smile beamed right at satoru.

any attempt at moaning were muffled, or more accurately gagged. your voice straining with pleasure as you were being fucked in both ends. again. toji's girth was much harder to accommodate but all his gentle praises and cooing helped relax you. the burning in your jaw worth it just for this moment. it gave satoru some extra enjoyment on his end when every praise had you vice gripping his length.

satoru couldn't compete in raw size against toji. not to say that he's by any means below average, but toji's heavenly restriction keeps him above the already exemplary sizes. he does however have one secret technique only for his bloodline.

limitless.

simply activating his ability allows himself to essentially become a human vibrator. literally. through infinity, he can expand and retract the distance between your velvet walls and his shaft at any speed he desires. it does take some effort and obviously self-control, but this is a man with an endless pool of cursed energy.

domain expansion: infinite pleasure.

the two continued their race to cum, you had no choice but to be the first, followed closely behind by the other two. your body trembling at the mercy of their cocks pumping you full.

"fast enough for ya, gojo?" he scoffed, tilting your head up to his with a finger swiping prodding your lips, "open." you obliged, sticking your tongue out like a panting dog after swallowing his essence entirely. "good girl." he smiled.

you couldn't help but whine at the loss of satoru when he pulled out, but it finally gave you a chance to catch your breath. "can you guys stop bickering for one second. at this point, you two need to be the ones fucking like some good old hate sex."

the two men chuckled, "sorry sweetheart, but you're doing so well taking us." toji purred, rubbing his digits under your jaw like he was petting a cat.

"aww, don't tell me you're tired of us now?" satoru pouted. "toji's one of the few people that actually can put up a good fight with me and with you as our prize. . ." his voice trailed off as he pulled you away from the older man's grasp to kiss you. ". . .it only makes it more enjoyable."

"don't either of you get any bright ideas that leave me to grieve again, you hear me? i mean it."

toji hooked his arms under yours and pulled up onto his lap holding you at your waist with one hand and the other keeping your face in his neck. "i think we can agree to that, can't we, 'toru?"

"yeah, jiji," he replied mockingly while inching forward, "i think for the princess here, we can keep things neutral." his voice had a tone of mischief to it.

"what are you two doin─hey!" you yelped in surprise. toji had lifted you up onto his cock, sitting you down balls deep against your lips all the while satoru's tip rubbed between your ass.

"one more baby, i know you can do it." toji cooed with his voice just as full of shit as satoru's. "you want us to see eye to eye, don't you?" he smirked.

honestly... what the hell? why not?

your mind is so far gone with pleasure to care. all you want is to love and be loved by your two sacred treasures.

"god, fuck." you groaned as satoru worked his way in, agonizingly slow. toji kept himself still but the pressure of warming them both is downright insane. tears welled up which were quickly swiped away thanks to toji. he leaned forward, kissing you through it, humming into each other's mouths in ecstasy.

"ready, princess?" you nodded your head as best as you could with your shaky body.

"try and keep up if you can, pretty boy." you glared at toji with a hiss of disapproval. "i know i know, m'sorry. lemme put a sweeter face on you now, okay?"

toji moved his arms back under yours, this time hugging your chest to his in a tight bear grip as he rutted his hips into you. every time he pushed in, satoru pulled out. repeating as they set the pace while you raked lines down toji's back.

you were reduced to nothing but babbling nonsense, crying out jiji toru jiji toru and other incoherent swears. drool spilling from your mouth despite toji's best efforts to keep it occupied with his own. he eventually dropped his head to your shoulder, biting into marks he previously made. satoru pulled himself closer, opting to rest his head on the opposite side of toji and his arms coiled around your waist.

you were unable to hold out for long before coming undone but they didn't cease their own chase. despite their disheveled breaths and all the obscenities they growled, they continued on pumping. the rhythm they set soon fell apart and after a few harsh thrusts, the two pushed up deep inside you at the same moment washing you over in a second orgasm before the first even had a chance to settle.

"fuck... y'er so warm y/n. can't take it anymore, gotta cum sweetheart. take every last bit of us, you hear me? show us how good you are."

the best you could manage was a muffled "mphm" with haphazard nods as you clenched around them equally in force. the eruption of warm seed soon followed, coating your insides and spilling out with your arousal.

they finally pulled out after what felt like an eternity followed by the jungle juice of cum, slick, and sweat dripping further out from your body. you collapsed onto toji's sweat coated chest gasping for air. satoru couldn't help himself from doing the same onto your back.

"not bad, old man. i can see why she loves you so much."

"yeah?" a genuine smile crossed toji's face from his words, "you did fine yourself too, brat. may have to keep you around for her joy."

"you couldn't stop me even if you tried, i only take orders from our princess." he chuckled.

toji brushed his hand over your head, pushing strands behind your ears and admiring your beautiful fucked face.

"i am going to order you to get your ass off of us and go start a bath before she falls asleep for good."

"fine, fine." satoru groaned before pushing himself off the two of you, kissing you once before walking off to the bathroom.

"now then. . ." toji's eyes wandered to the empty slot on his finger. "did you bury me with my wedding band, love?"

with a groggy hum, you turned upwards to his face. "i thought about it but no, i still have it. i kept it with the intention of giving it to megumi someday if he ever wanted to get married to always keep you in our thoughts."

"guess he's gonna have to pick something else," he smiled. "death is one thing that will never separate us and even if it could, i would marry you again and again, as many times as it takes in every lifetime. we're bound to each other forever."

"jiji~," you sniffled. "i love you so much. welcome home... my sweet husband."

"i love you too, my precious wife." he kissed your crown, sighing peacefully before lifting you up into his arms. "time to get cleaned off before the kids get home, right?"

one perk to this nice house gifted to you is the master bathroom featuring a large enough tub perfect for the three of you to relax in. perfectly nestling you between your two loves as they took turns scrubbing and kissing every inch of you before bothering with themselves.

"i can't believe you tried to bribe me to not see my 'dead' husband, 'toru." you pouted.

he threw his hands up defensively, "hey you know we have history, princess. i didn't want to let you go that easily without a fight."

"well i'm not giving up either of you so you two better learn to get along and fast. i love you both too much."

"aww~, you're too cute, y/n. love you too."

toji barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "just don't forget your manners, she's first and foremost my wife." satoru rolled his eyes teasingly at the man before pulling you away from him into his arms.

after soaking for a good while, the three of you stepped out. satoru changed back into his clothes from earlier and as for toji, well you never could part with the majority of his favorites. each article still carrying trace amounts of his scent that bring you peace every time you're upset or need a reminder of him.

once dressed, you curled up once more on the couch to resume a movie from earlier, tucked in a blanket up in toji's arms with satoru close by.

the front door opened followed by a resounding "we're home!" followed by the footsteps of the whole group.

"hey mom, have you heard from goj─DAD?!" megumi had entered the living room first and immediately dropped his bag to the ground.

"megumi?" tsumiki followed in after, equally as shocked before the rest of the group arrived.

toji looked softly at megumi and tsumiki first, taking in how much they've grown with a smile and a stray tear glossing his eye.

"how are you even here?!" megumi said with an appalled expression.

toji shrugged, "beats me, guess even heaven couldn't keep me from seeing my family again in life." he smirked.

"welcome home, kids!" you smiled happily to the group, unable to move away from toji's lap to greet them better after the fucking you just went through. "come sit with us, tell us about your evening!"

megumi and tsumiki came over first, hugging toji again like they too needed to confirm it was truly him and not some apparition.

"so who are the rest of ya?" toji questioned, his eyes panning to the group that wandered over.

the pink haired boy spoke first, "i'm yuji itadori! megumi's boyfriend."

next was a chestnut haired girl, "nobara kugisaki, these guys' best friend."

lastly was a familiar name and face that earned a questionable hum from the older man when she approached, "maki zenin, nobara's girlfriend."

his eyes narrowed slightly, "zenin?"

"don't count her out just yet, gramps." satoru chimed in from the other side of the couch. "your cousin here is just like you, just not nearly as old."

"says the brat with white hair. i don't see any grays on my head just yet."

"well if your back isn't hurting then you can take over maki's training from now on. you're the best choice for her to learn from, her twin as well."

toji glanced her over, as if assessing her prowess, eventually giving a satisfactory nod. "sure, but don't think you'll pull me away from y/n that easily." he moved his mouth right up against your ear, "we've got twelve years of catching up to do, don't we?"

"oh toji," you laughed. "you'll have me every single day and night now. no more stupid missions for you."

"anything for you, sweetheart." he purred, pulling the blanket up over your tired form that clung to him tightly.

you did your best to try and stay awake to enjoy your time with everyone, but thanks to toji caressing your body softly, you fell deeply asleep. when the next morning arrived and you woke up with not only satoru at your side, but toji as well, you wept with pure hearted joy that none of this was a dream or a cruel prank. simply, the love of your life finally coming home.

home sweet home once again.

☆ Notes: the idea came to me when i was trying to sleep the other night and ended up making me stay up an extra hour giggling with all the ideas i was getting for it. i hope it's not been done before but either way i was so excited to write this, i had so much fun!! writing satoru more than usual was a bit tricky for me since i'm only used to toji brainrot, but we'll get there.

also if you wanna see a bad edit i made that inspired this whole thing, peep this link

[rimunagenius]

Hi, I saw your writing for the famous Popstar x Caitlin Clark I was wondering if you could do her dating an actress version?

REMINDER THAT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!! UNTIL I GET A HANDLE ON THE MANY REQUESTS I HAVENT GOTTEN TO!! IM SO GRATEFUL YOU LOVE MY WRITING, THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING!! *this is also not proofread*

hi anon!! i love this idea! these are so much fun to write, so ofc!! sorry it took so long!! 💕

(HC) Caitlin Clark x actress!reader

Caitlin first noticed you when your hit debut movie came out in your sophomore year of college, 13 going on 30 (pretend reader is jennifer garner)

You made it big, still attending louisville to finish out school, you had noticed Caitlin Clark

You played basketball, a walk on your freshman year, where you played with emily engstler, one of your closest friends and that’s why you noticed caitlin

You kept up with basketball after you dropped it for acting and after emily graduated, so you were exposed to the coverage caitlin clark was getting

you had the biggest crush on her

it started off as a small attraction because of the love for the game you both shared and just because her ambition and confidence was just so attractive you couldn’t stop watching

you attended multiple games of hers after that

if you were close on a shoot whether it was modeling to promote a movie or press tours or just shooting location, you were there

you even took time off to fly out to iowa

she saw you more when you started to appear with jason sudeikis, your costar

you eventually ended up on the court with them, taking pictures with him and the team

you took that as your moment to tell Caitlin how big of a fan you were, and how you played at Louisville

you two hit it OFF

that night you posted a boomerang of you swinging your fuzzy sock clad feet, with a replay of the mystics game that night, with the caption “pov: my celebrity crush followed me back (i still love you @/em_engstler )”

for months you two hyped eachother up on your stories ��omg @/youruser’s movie is so good!!” or “growing the game one clark at a time”

you both were getting bolder, your stories soon started to look like a caitlin clark fan page

that night at the game, you got Kate, Gabbie, Jada, and Caitlin’s phone numbers, so like friends do, you guys hung out all the time

Whenever you had free time from shooting, you were with them, your schedules somehow always aligning

people didn’t start to suspect a thing until you were getting photos taken by paparazzi more frequently, the pictures being you and Caitlin alone

the group hangouts happened whenever, but you and caitlin hangouts get your mind out of the gutter started to happen more frequently

it started off with paparazzi spotting you two laughing, making the best candid pics

and then you were spotted at more iowa games, home or away

and then she started to go to events with you

the other girls tagged alone to some, Caitlin being your main date

Caitlin had fallen hard

her teammates knew when you guys created a group chat and caitlin was a lot more flirtatious than the average behavior

heart emojis and very endearing compliments that friends don’t make about other friends

so that’s why when you invited her to your The Last of Us premiere, she had her lands lingering on the small of your back

standing so close to be just friends

you following along

it could be defendable if you two weren’t caught seriously get your mind out of the gutter

you two were a little drunk, stumbling infront of your hotel room, where you happened to be sharing, you couldn’t find the key in your purse

you fumbled around, the alcohol in your system making your center of gravity shift

unbalanced, you stumble a little, caitlin’s hands on your waist catching you

you looked up, your faces inches apart, and that when she leaned in and kissed you

it was so perfect until you heard a camera click, and a bright light past your closed eyelids

someone spotted you and took a picture of the whole ordeal

that’s when you two hurried up and grabbed the key, letting yourselves into the room

it only took two hours for your phones to be pinging with messages from the girls and friends and family asking about the articles and leaks

you two were relived but nervous at the amount of attention you two had been getting so quickly…

your and actress and she’s a college basketball player…how would people react or agree with this

you couldn’t care less, and apparently caitlin’s didn’t either bc she pushed you back on to the bed and just kissed you like her life depended on it

you two didn’t have to hide

maybe there’s perks in being the best collegiate player in the world…

[theoutcastrogue]

[From a 2014 article by John Darnielle of the Mountain Goats. He's talking about how a random spam email ended up inspiring a part of his book Wolf in White Van. Later, in 2020, the album Getting Into Knives came out, and I think it inspired its artwork too.]

"It took years for me to be able to just reflexively delete spam, or filter it so that I never see it at all. I blame the spammers for this; the quality of their work took a sharp nosedive at some point. But during whatever period of the internet’s growth you’d call the early 2000s, it seemed like you’d still get some winners: things that had been typed up by a person, sent out to a bunch of email addresses they’d bought or rented for 5 or 10 bucks from the only guy who was ever going to make any money in this particular exchange. Most of them went directly, if manually, into the trash; but once in a while, there’d be one that seemed to earn, at the very least, the minute it’d take me to read it.

The one I’m remembering here was subject-lined SUPPLY OF KNIVES. [...] The subject line opened on an all-caps email that boasted, in ornate, antiquated English appealing to the reader’s more refined sensibilities, about the high quality of the knives on offer at an external website. You shouldn’t click on links in spam email. I live my life on the razor’s edge! I clicked the link.

I want to tell you about these knives: They were beautiful. They were weird. They had elaborate designs in the handles, moons or stars of wolf heads, and special grips, and a variety of points. They were made from metals whose pedigrees were described lovingly, and had been struck — smithed? wrought? — via processes I knew absolutely nothing about, but that sounded fantastic, difficult, arcane. It’s the joy of specialized language: When you’re an outsider to it, it can’t help but sound cool.

Of course this is the whole idea of any operation like this. SUPPLY OF KNIVES could well have been, and probably was, a company in Ohio who’d stumbled across an old warehouse full of knives, and knew enough about sales to describe these things in the most exotic terms they could find. I’m pretty immune to pitches: Who likes to feel like he’s being pitched? But somebody involved with SUPPLY OF KNIVES had had just enough authorial flair — that, or true faith — to caption each knife’s mysterious, blurry accompanying JPEG with a description whose constant recourse to specialized vocabularies seemed to say, “You’re not even reading this unless you already know about this sort of thing. Let us therefore speak like the fellow travelers we are.”

It was like a trade catalog for roadside bandits in need of knives.

I can’t speak for everybody, but I know that when I was a child the life of the roadside bandit seemed like a pretty romantic way to go. I looked at all these knives and read the descriptions and was just generally delighted about the whole thing, so I saved the email in a “memorable spam” folder I used to keep that had maybe two other emails in it. A few years later, Apple came out with this robotic-arm-screen iMac you never see any more, and we were long overdue for a new computer so we got that; and then, after a while, I got myself a laptop, because I was traveling all the time, and eventually both the old iMacs ended up in the basement, and they were both asleep but alive until fairly recently, as far as I knew.

But when I went to check for the email, it was gone. The old blue iMac is dead, bricked, lifeless. Searches on the term “supply of knives” on this laptop and on good old robot-arm-screen find nothing. The backup CD for the blue iMac drive is probably in a drawer around here somewhere, but that’s like saying, “The coin I had in my swim trunks’ pocket is probably somewhere in the ocean.” There is no SUPPLY OF KNIVES. There’s only the memory."

[source]

And this is the wonderful cover art of Getting Into Knives. Back cover and promo material below. Note that "Knives International" and "Knives Wordwide" are not real companies, they appear to be a callback to that elusive spam email.

[omnomnomdomcaps]

Making Up for Lost Time (Remastered)

Another Halloween, another lovely opportunity to explore the bewitching, twisted, and the spooky of ab/dl fiction. Here's a remaster that was originally a caption story featuring DaddysDreamDoll, but has since had its images barred from Tumblr. DM me for the full version!

Now? Really!?

An exasperated Jane scrambled out of her bedroom to glance at the intercom. Of all the times, she thought, this had to be the absolute worst for someone to be at the door. 

Her evening had started out so well. She’d gotten herself all dolled up, put on her favorite jeans and top, - a pink tank with ‘Daddy’s Girl’ written on it, sure to amuse her boyfriend - and picked out the perfect tequila to bring to the night’s Halloween party. 

But things took a turn. Out of nowhere, the girl was overcome with a splitting headache, so strong that she struggled to walk straight. As she reached for drugs in her stupor, Jane felt an odd, warming sensation in her pants, one she realized far too late was the feeling of her wetting herself, ruining both her jeans and the thong she was hiding underneath. 

Now, to top it all off, there was someone at the door, and a very strange someone at that. Jane stared at the video feed for a few moments, bewildered at what seemed to be a slender older man, with curly white hair and a short, matching beard, dressed in a skipper hat and suit, both in garish carnival orange, blue, and white. A bizarre figure indeed, but one that gave Jane a distinct feeling of déjà vu. 

And then, the man spoke, in a voice the girl had not heard in many years:

“Good evening, Jane! Might I come in? It really has been far, far too long.”

“Oh no, no no no no no,”, the girl repeated to herself, backing slowly away from the intercom. Whatever this weirdo was on about, she didn’t have time for it now. Still nervous from the bizarre happenings of the evening, Jane could feel her heart pounding as she finally turned away. 

And then, as she lifted her head up towards her apartment door, the girl let out a piercing shriek, before raising a shaking arm up and pointing forward. 

There he was. The man Jane had just seen at the entryway had somehow come in without her noticing, through a door she was sure she kept locked. She could see now that he walked with an ornate cane, but it made him no less menacing in her eyes. 

“Oh, so sorry to scare you there,” the man began calmly, a slight drawl to his voice, “I hope it’s alright that I let myself in?”

“You… you…” Jane stammered, walking backwards on shaking legs towards her kitchen, careful not to lose sight of the intruder. “wh… why are you here? H… how did you get in here?”

“Now, Jane,” the man chuckled, clearly unphased by the girl’s nervous tone, “I already told you, I’m here to make up for lost time. And, you know, these things always find a way back to you.”

Jane’s eye twitched as she stealthily grabbed a knife with her right hand and took it behind her back. “Please get out,” she whimpered, moving cautiously back towards the man, “please…”

“Oh, heavens,” the man remarked, clearly in no rush to go anywhere, “it seems we’re off on the wrong foot. There’s no need to be scared. Though I do appreciate the welcoming gift!”

Confused, Jane scanned around to try to understand what the man was talking about, only to realize that his eyes were gesturing down towards her right hand… and the banana she was holding in it. 

The girl’s eyes widened in horror. Shaking, she dropped the fruit, staggered towards her couch, and fell onto its seat, the strength to stand upright now drained from her body. She wondered, was she dreaming? Had she gone mad? Or was this really some monster who had come to pay her a visit?

“Come now,” the man continued, taking a seat in the chair opposite Jane, “what’s gotten into you tonight? Was it the little accident you had? Is that still bothering you?”

With her mind racing, her heart pounding, and her head still throbbing, Jane slowly lifted her eyes towards her visitor. In all her frenzy, she had completely forgotten that she wet herself earlier, but now it was beginning to seem far less coincidental. “You.. did you do this to me?”

The man thought for a second. “No, no, I wouldn’t say that,” he smiled, “I suppose you did it to yourself, in a way. But I may have played a role, somewhere along the line.”

At this, the girl just stared, bug-eyed. 

The man cleared his throat. “Let me be abundantly clear here. I am not going to hurt you. I haven’t the slightest interest in anything like that. All I would like is to make up for a bit of lost time, to spend just a few hours this fine evening catching up with someone I’ve not seen in far too long.”

There it was again - where did she know him from? - but it didn’t matter. “Please,” she asked softly, finally beginning to calm down, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for… for whatever this is. I… I have places to be tonight.”

“Oh?” The man inquired, “a party of some sort, is it?”

Jane’s eyes widened for a brief moment. The man’s weirdness clearly wasn’t abating, but it was beginning to grow a little less surprising. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

“A Halloween party, eh? Still just can’t wait for your candy, I see.”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “Candy? Excuse me? For your information, it’s a grown up party.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is. Drinking, loud music, and I’m sure some time with that boyfriend of yours. But that, my dear, is just grown-up candy.”

The girl sighed. Whatever riddles this odd man was throwing at her, she just wanted to be done with. “What… what do you want from me?” She asked once more.

“Well, I told you, I just want a little bit of your time for us to catch up, that’s all.”

“And if I let you have that, then you’ll leave me alone? You’ll let me go to my party?”

“I will,” the man said.

Jane sighed once more, dropping her head downwards as she rested her arms at her knees. Whatever this weirdo is planning, I guess I’ll just have to play along for now, she determined.

Finally, the girl looked back up. “Fine.”

“Well,” the man smiled once more, “that’s all I needed to hear.”

With that, he snapped his fingers. And for a moment, Jane’s world went black. 

When Jane came to, she felt as if she had been asleep a long, long time. The pain in her head was gone, but seemed to have been replaced with a thick fog. The clammy feeling of cold, wet jeans was gone as well, though it too had been replaced by a slew of new sensations. Taking inventory of herself, the girl found that she was now wearing a short, lemon-patterned dress, a matching bonnet, a pair of mary-janes, a pair of tights, and something thick and crinkly underneath the tights…

Her first instinct was to suspect that she had been drugged, but a look at her surroundings indicated otherwise. The clock that hung over her kitchen mantle read almost exactly as it did before she was knocked out, and the sky outside her window still carried the same twilight hues. Either the man who had come into her apartment truly had magical powers, or she was dreaming - either way, kicking and screaming wouldn’t do her much good. 

“Wh-wh-why am I dressed like this?” she asked, lifting her eyes towards the man in the hat. 

“Well, to make up for lost time, my dear,” he replied, “do I really have to keep repeating that?”   

“By… dressing me up like a baby?” 

The man chuckled. “Yes, well, this is the time you most missed out on, you see. A treasured time of newfound wonder and joy, that warms the heart and fills the spirit of most any child. And yet you, my dear, were just so preoccupied with getting your candy, that you let these precious sands slip through your fingers.” 

Jane sighed. Again with the candy. “So… what do I do now?” she asked. 

“Well,” the man smiled, “we’ve got some letter blocks in there for you to play with. Why don’t you try spelling a few words?”

The girl raised her eyebrows. Indeed, in front of her was a small, wheeled box of wooden blocks. “And, if I spell some words for you, will you let me go to my party?”

Jane shrugged and picked up a block from the corner of the tray. Then, for a moment, she paused, tilting her head to look at what was on it. 

“Ummm, mister? What’s the picture on this block?”

“Oh, that?” the man answered, grinning ear to ear, “that would be the letter ‘P’.”

The girl blushed. This was going to be harder than she thought. 

****

“And this is the Y, right?” the girl asked excitedly.

“Very good! That is indeed the Y. Just like a wishbone, remember?”

“Mmmhmmm!” Jane smiled proudly. “And now I put it here?” she asked, gesturing to an empty space next to a B-A-B she had lined up. 

“Very good, young lady. And what does B-A-B-Y spell?”

The girl placed a finger squarely on her bottom lip - her favorite thinking pose - and tried for a few moments to sound the word out as the man had instructed. Bee-ay-bee-wh - baby! “Baby!” she squealed, clapping her hands and giddily jumping her knees up and down on the ground.   

That initial shock of not recognizing the letter ‘P’ had made it clear to Jane that this wouldn’t be easy, but she hadn’t expected it to be so much fun! Sure, the first spelling - “CAT” - was a complete mystery to the girl, who simply watched along as the friendly older man neatly ordered the blocks in front of her. But her initial worry that this was just some cruel joke was calmed when she recognized the ‘A’ (after a few gentle reminders) in the next word, “JANE.” By the time this third word came around, the rules and patterns of these strange shapes were beginning to come into view, and the girl patented her new thinking pose as she gazed in wide-eyed wonder at her guide’s explanation of the letter ‘B.’

The whole experience was a delightful surprise for the twenty-three-year-old, but perhaps the strangest part of this magic sense of seeing letters for the first time was how new it felt. Jane, who had long prided herself in a keen memory, simply could not recall having such a sense of wonder in her own childhood. It was, to her, completely novel, its feelings of discovery and accomplishment a warm treat. 

Jane was so enamored with it, in fact, that she entirely lost track of the time, considering it only when she caught a glimmer of the pitch-dark sky outside. Only then did the thought cross her mind that she might have forgotten about something…

The party!  

The revelation struck Jane suddenly, and without a second thought she grabbed for the receiver laid out beside her. 

“I’m sorry, mister,” she said to the man in the hat, “but I hafta call my boyfwiend ‘cause there’s a party an’ I really wanna go an’ I’m sorry, mister, but I hafta go, okay?”

To this, the man said nothing, smiling silently in his seat as he watched the girl try to make sense of the dial on her plastic phone. Sipping tea from his small, white cup - which had appeared, seemingly, from nowhere - he looked on as Jane spun the rotator back and forth and pressed anything that looked remotely like a button. 

And then, he saw the girl realize her mistake.       

Slowly, Jane put the receiver to the floor and stared for a few moments at the older man in front of her. In her eyes, tears began to well up, the harbingers of a coming. And then, finally, the girl began to scream. 

“YOU!” she cried out, jumping and stomping about the room, “You maded me a baby an’ now I’m gonna miss my party an’ it’s your fault an’ I really wanna go an’ now I can’t ‘cause I’m a dumb baby who can’t spell an’ can’t use a phone an’ an’...” 

With her fists balled up, the girl huffed and puffed, tears continuing to pour from her eyes. “I wanna go! I wanna go!” she continued, “I want my candy! I wa…”

All at once, the shouting stopped, and the girl froze, squatting down in the middle of the room. The girl was overcome with a sense of fullness in her stomach, and she realized quickly it would be too late to do anything about it. 

So she simply pushed. 

Shocked by the sudden embarrassment of such an accident, Jane didn’t even notice as she plopped her thumb into her mouth for comfort. Instead, she was transfixed at the way the growing mess pressed against her padding, and at the thought that she was so unaware this was coming. 

When she was done, the girl broke her wobbly squat and fell onto her rear. Her thick padding ensured it wouldn’t hurt, but the squish of the impact was a harsh reminder that brought the girl nearly back to tears. 

“Now then,” the man finally broke his silence, placing his teacup back on its tray, “where was this you wanted to go?”

Jane sniffled. “T-to the party.”

“And do you think,” the man asked frankly, “that that would be a good idea, to be going to a party in such a messy diaper?”

The girl scrunched her nose and shook her head. 

“That’s right,” he continued, “because you certainly would not want to embarrass yourself in front of all your friends like that, now, would you?”

“No,” the girl responded meekly, pouting as she shook her head. 

“Of course not. And you know, that’s not a very fun thought to think about. But would you like to hear something that is fun to think about?”

“Hmmmm?” the girl looked up, curious. 

The man in the knelt down beside the girl, bringing his face closer to her own. “That little accident you had,” he began, “that’s what happens when you haven’t quite figured out how to use the potty. But, just like with your letters, it’s something you can learn and get better, and better, and better at, over time.”

“Now,” he continued, placing his hand on the girl’s shoulder, “I want you to imagine completing your potty training. Sitting there, triumphantly on your pot, a bona fide big girl. Graduated from your diapers, graduated from your pull ups, ready to wear your big girl panties day or night, not afraid of any accidents at all. Can you think about that for me?”

Jane’s eyes widened as she tried to wrap her mind around what the man was saying. After what she had just done, filling her diaper without any semblance of warning or control, even getting to wear pull ups seemed a world away. But to be done with potty training altogether? She couldn’t even imagine how proud she’d be. 

Again, she tried to think back to what it felt like during her first potty training journey, but found nothing. Bizarrely, she could remember starting it - being seated on the potty as a clueless babe, unaware of what to do with it - but not reaching the end. 

“Well then,” the man said, a bright smile now firmly on his face, “what would you like to do next?”

The girl thought for a moment about her priorities. Lost as she was in aspiration and memory, she had completely lost track of how bad of an idea it was to be sitting down at a time like this, and how icky her bottom was beginning to feel. 

“Ummmm…” the girl blushed, “change?”

“A fresh diaper, eh? Alright, then, as you wish.”

And then it hit her. 

****

She could still hear herself whining that day. “Why can’t I go? Why can’t I go? Why? Why? Why?”

“Because,” her exasperated mother tried to tell her, “you’re too little. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Next year, I promise, we’ll take you trick-or-treating with the other kids.”

“But I wan it NOW!” little Jane cried, shaking her tiny fists. 

“Here,” she could hear her mother say, “if you stop crying, I’ll let you make a wish.”

Jane remembered looking around, bewildered, trying to understand what her mother meant. And she saw him, sitting in his booth, wearing the very same hat, the very same suit, the very same inviting smile. 

“Come on, honey,” her mother had said, gently helping the little girl out of her stroller, “why don’t we ask the nice wizard for something.” 

Holding her mother’s hand in front of the booth, Jane could remember gulping nervously before she spoke. “M-mister Wizard,” she began, “I wish… I wish I was a year older.”

“Do you, now?” he said then, “is it so you can go trick-or-treat, and get candy with the big kids?”

The younger Jane nodded shyly.

“Well, then, as you wish!” he declared, before twirling his hands about and sparking his wand. 

Jane could remember herself giggling while her mother smiled, both of them thinking it was all some great show. Jane could recall the sense of confusion she had as to why she had made that wish - after all, she was three years old, and already had a costume in mind for the night. 

Jane could also remember one of the strangest feelings she had ever felt - the sensation of nearly falling over as she sat back towards a stroller that was no longer there. It was a moment in her life that had baffled her for twenty years, and now she could finally, finally make sense of it.

Back in the present day, the older Jane blinked as if she had just woken from a dream. Slowly piecing everything together, the girl blushed as she tried once again to face the familiar man from the fair.

“Seems like someone’s been doing a little remembering,” he grinned. 

Jane nodded silently. Then, after a brief pause, she looked up and began to speak. “Ummm, Mister Wizard? Is it… is it okay if I go to bed now? I’m pretty tired.”

“Of course, dear, it’s been quite a long day for you.”

“Th-thank you,” the girl said, bowing slightly. “And, Mister Wizard? Thank you… for everything.” 

With that, the girl began to move towards her bedroom, knocking out quickly on her bed, not even realizing she was still diapered. 

When she awoke on the morning of November 1st, Jane came to a number of jarring realizations. First, that there was a pacifier still in her mouth. Second, that she was wearing a diaper, and quite a wet one from the feeling of it. And third, that she couldn’t read the posters on her bedroom wall, though she still felt some pride in making out the letter ‘A’. 

“Ah, you’re up!” a now familiar voice called, “I’m just about to be on my way, was lovely to catch up with you!”

“Ummmm, Mister Wizard?” Jane began, worriedly, “why am I still a baby?”

“Ah right, about that!” the man answered casually, “well, you see, while my work here is done, you unfortunately still have a year to make up for. So it’s going to be a little while for you - I certainly hope that boyfriend of yours doesn’t mind changing diapers. Cheerio!”

With that, the man left through the door.

Jane, meanwhile, lay still on the bed, slowly taking in what she had just learned. It was a lot to figure out, but most urgent to her was the question of what she would be having for breakfast. She was in no state to cook, after all, and she really didn’t feel like eating candy.  

[befemininenow]

Some of us change, and for the better. If you haven't yet, what could you change?

Well, this one is a longer description than what I've been writing during special days. I've been debating on making changes for the blog, as well my improving on my personal needs. I haven't been able to enjoy anything these past few months due to work, bills, and other circumstances in my life. I've been wanting to enjoy this 2024, but it seems that it hasn't been any better.

It's currently April and the spring season is supposed to be a fresh new start for everyone. I always felt that April is the perfect month to adjust towards the new year and initiate those plans you had during your New Year's Resolution, but have never started. 90 days is usually enough time to adjust and I think we're well above 90 days to make an excuse. Well, no more excuses.

See, it's been exactly a year since I made my "retirement" post. However, I did so at an impulsive rate and lapsed back to uploading captions again. Then, on June of last year, I did so again. I uploaded a new caption or two between June and September before uploading more captions around October until now. Yet again, I didn't last.

I come to the conclusion that as much as I love making captions, it's been affecting my actual life. Caption making isn't as easy as it seems. Not only do you have to find good pictures, but you also have to create a meaningful message relating to the picture. Sometimes, you even have to give a detailed description either because the message can't fit in the entire picture or because I have to spice up the post. Then, you have to make sure the caption looks good because the wrong color, font, space, etc, can make it look ugly. It doesn't have to be this stressful, but it got to the point where it took a chunk of my free time and left me with a lack of satisfaction.

You may be asking yourself if this is another "retirement" post where I'm going to quit and come back again. Let me make this statement clear because as the saying goes "Third time's a charm": I'm not going to retire. Yet. However, don't be surprised if I go without uploading a new caption for 3 or 5 days. Chances are, I'm probably either busy with other errands in my life or because I need a proper vacation that allows me to enjoy my other hobbies. Feminization captions aren't my personality, y'know.

When and how I will conclude this blog will be a surprise I will unveil one day. Maybe next week, next month, maybe even next year. But for now, I'm going to make a change with this blog based at my own pace. This caption (No. 505) is a preview of what you will expect to see for the next several captions: basic, simple, effective, and of course, attractive. Also, for the first time since forever, I will upload captions without a post description. All of my captions have at least a small description of what the post is about. This time, there will be some caption posts without description because I believe the caption is enough to detail what the topic will be about.

For now, this is the future of this blog. I promise you that the next captions will be great. I put more effort and love into them and I hope you love them as well. Have a great night, everyone!

[jeridandridge]

Hii, I hope you’re good!

I have a prompt: Melissa and the reader do all kind of stuff together, like shopping, going to the drug store, cuddling but they’ve never kissed or professed their love ‘cause Melissa believes the reader would never go for her because of her age and the reader is too insecure to believe that a woman like Melissa Schemmenti would like her back. Can you make it with a happy ending?

Thank you ❤️

The Yearbook

The Abbott family finds out you and Melissa are dating…. Except it’s news to you both too.

On the last day of school Jacob comes running down the hall towards the front desk where all the teachers are gathered for the last day of the school year.

“Melissa I’m so sorry, I told the kids to edit that out.” He pants keeping his distance, looking afraid of the woman.

“Slow down, kid.” She shakes her head. “What are you rambling about?”

Before Jacob can answer you come walking in ready for your last day.

“Hey guys!”

That day you had no intention of walking into a tense moment, you thought it would be an easy last day then you’d go to Melissa’s later for dinner to celebrate the start of summer and your summer job you always took at a local bookstore. When you see Melissa you feel your stomach flip as you shoot her a smile.

“Hey yall, there’s Abbott’s cutest couple.” Ava joins the group all smiles, ready to tease her younger friend.

You give her a curious look, eying the rest of the group, including Jacob nervously holding the yearbook.

“Gimme that,” Melissa huffs.

You watch carefully as she flips through the book, looking over her shoulder down at the page. A black and white picture of you two sitting in the break room together, Melissa’s arm slung around the back of your chair with a proud smirk on her lips as you grin for the camera. Underneath the caption reads Abbotts cutest couple.

You were confused at first, so what if you two were affectionate? You were friends after all. She’s not harsh with you like she is with others, but she’s not with Barb either. You know you’re not special.

“What the hell? You’re in charge of this, how’d this get in here?” Melissa hands the book back to Jacob putting her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry! I told the kids to take it out and they must’ve put it back in. I’m really sorry, guys. I know you didn’t want people to find out like this.” Jacob sighs.

You look at him at the rest of the crew curiously, Janine looking like she’s about to burst while Barbara tries to hide a knowing smile.

“Huh.” You hum crossing your arms, keeping your eyes on the wall across from you.

The redhead turns her head looking at you over her shoulder with soft eyes. “They think we’re dating and all you have to say is ‘huh’?”

“That’s why we think you’re dating! You can’t even hide it with those heart eyes!” Jacob smiles between you two.

“Okay, calm down.” You wave him off. “And Janine, you look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry I just love love.” She mumbles.

“I’d hate to burst all your bubbles,” you start off looking at everyone, “but Melissa and I are not dating. We’re good friends.”

Hearing a snicker you and Melissa both look over at Gregory who immediately sobers back up. “Sorry, I was just thinking of that one time you fell asleep on the couch in there and Melissa threatened me with a plastic knife to not wake you up.”

“And the fact she stays at your house. Often.” Barbara adds.

“You stay at Melissa’s too after a girls night.” You shrug as the older woman quirks a brow at you.

“I don’t sleep in her bed.” Barbara shoots back getting “woos!” From everyone.

“Woah! Alright, everyone get outta here.” Melissa waves everyone off, not leaving any room to argue. Melissa made a good point, and you knew she couldn’t be into you. It didn’t matter if you were completely in love with her. You thought you were good at hiding it for the most part, when you tried to hide it that is, but apparently not.

As everyone goes on about their business you shoot Ava a look as she points between the two of you with a smirk. “Get to it, girl. I ain’t that afraid of Melissa.”

“Well that was weird.” You chuckle. “I’ll see you after the rugrats head out?” You smile at the redhead, all of a sudden nervous.

“Yeah, hon. I’ll see ya later.” She nods curtly walking down the hall. Watching her go you let out a shaky breath. Great.

As the kids sit watching a movie you Scroll through your phone, realizing you and Melissa have a lot of photos together and you loved having them. Your favorite was from last Halloween. She was dressed as Wanda and she looked amazing in her cape and crown. You were practically drooling all day at her and you two looked good, her in tights and you in your tightest black suit as Black Widow, you both standing like you’re about to fight.

Thinking about what Barb told the group you hum looking at the Disney movie playing on the tv for the kids. You loved waking up cuddled into the redhead, sometimes she held onto you like you were the most precious thing in the world and other times you held her close to your chest letting her know she’s safe with you. You were screwed and you knew it.

At the dismissal bell you say goodbye to the kids for the summer and head back inside for Melissa’s room halting when you hear her talking.

“It ain’t possible, Barb. I’m- she’s so young and has so much fire in her, she’s probably horrified of that thing. You heard her reaction to it.”

“Melissa, do you remember what you told me when you broke up with Gary?” The woman’s voice can be heard over your heart pounding in your ears.

“Yeah,” Melissa laughs sadly. “He’s not her.”

“And that woman’s been at your side ever since. I know it’s hard, but don’t deny yourself the chance to be happy.”

You let out a shaky breath at the new information. She was just as scared as you were and you knew it. You knew she had a tough wall to break down and somehow, you did it.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Barb.”

You can’t take it anymore. Dropping your bag by the door you walk in with a huff.

“Yes it does!” You let out In a watery huff, your eyes already burning from the tears. “I don’t know how much more obvious I can be with you.”

Barbara gently squeezes her friends shoulder and gives you a smile. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

Taking in a breath you meet Melissa’s eyes with a quivering lip and a shrug. “I wish you would’ve told me.”

“I didn’t know.” She whispers playing with the sleeves of her shirt.

“I didn’t try very hard to hide it. Not even when you were with Gary.” You almost laugh. You two openly flirted, spent practically all your free time together, hell you did everything a couple does minus the sex.

Trying to hold it together you swallow hard, your heart practically skipping a beat when Melissa looks at you with watery eyes and a smile on her pink lips. Not saying a word Melissa pushes herself off her desk and walks over wrapping her arms around your neck, sniffling as she holds onto you as if you might evaporate into thin air.

Wrapping your arms around her waist you pull her even closer, taking in the familiar scent and warmth while rubbing her back. “Go on a date with me.”

Melissa lets out a laugh pulling back to meet your eyes, a genuine smile on her lips. “Yeah, hon. I’ll go on a date with you.”

[kaibutsushidousha]

The Hundred Line - Famitsu interview June 19th 2024

What does the title Hundred Line mean?

Kodaka: The simplest way to describe this game is: student have to live together in a school while fighting to survive 100 days. This "100 days" timeframe became a major keyword, so we decided to express it through the title The Hundred Line - Last Defense Academy.

The game has been described as "a tale of extreme x despair produced by the creators of Danganronpa". This "extreme x despair" keyword reminds me of the Concept Art 1 presented September 2018 at the announcement of Too Kyo Games. Caption: Extreme x Despair. A game co-written by Kodaka and Uchikoshi!

Kodaka: As you can imagine, this is the game from Concept Art 1. We finally managed to announce, but at first, The Hundred Line was developed as Too Kyo's first original IP. However, our company isn't capable of self-publishing, so now we're working with Aniplex, on a half-half split on production costs.

When did development start?

Kodaka: Since we founded Too Kyo Games (2017), so that has been 6 or 7 years. At first, Uchikoshi and I partnered with another major publisher to release our game, but unfortunately, the project was canceled...

In a previous interview, you mentioned a title not coming out as planned, but I didn't think you mean an actual cancellation...

Kodaka: I have so much I could talk about on this one, but I don't think the first talk about this game should be about what went wrong, so how about we save it for another day? Haha. Although The Hundred Line's project was canceled for a while, now, after finding what we needed to make it a good game, we rebranded it and restarted our whole internal development cycle.

We were initially fine with it being indie-sized, but as the story and character designs were getting polished, and the concept gained a more solid form, we started thinking we couldn't make our ideal game unless we went bigger. Determined to put our hand to the test... we took a loan.

A loan!?

Kodaka: It wasn't guaranteed that we'd have the working capital to maintain our enlarged development scope even if we sold all of our stocks. We advanced the production with the phantom of debt on our necks while we searched for a new publisher, and that's where I met Aniplex and smoothly sold our pitch.

However, since this game has simulation RPG sections, they said that'd need a third-party developer. For that, they introduced us to the accomplished Media Vision and had them join the dev team. We're also cooperating with Jet Studio, who worked with us before in Danganronpa and Rain Code.

After all that it took to get this game to a presentable state, we of Too Kyo Games consider it a proud symbol of our persistence, or better yet, the culmination and conclusion to the current stage of our careers.

Staking your life on your work has never been so literal...

Kodaka: True, if this game flops, we won't be able to pay our debt. In that sense, this also provides a rare opportunity to the playerbase too. They get to witness how much a single title's sales can influence the future of a creator and company.

That's not the kind of suspense I want as a game fan, haha. Still, with six years of development, is it safe to assume you've been through a fair share of hardships?

Kodaka: I did. That was my first time dealing with a full cancellation. Also, to enable to Too Kyo to continue its work, to partner up with a new publisher, etc, we couldn't continue the development in the direction we were before. We needed to restart on our semi-complete project, and that's already painful labor in itself.

In terms of creative workload, I can't say I was much busier than I was in the Danganronpa V3 days, having to work in the game and the anime at the same time, but in this situation, aside from my directing, writing, and screen composition duties, I'm also Too Kyo Games's president and producer, meaning I have more work outside my craftsmanship... Making the game and managing the funds at the same time would have given most people a mental breakdown (laughs).

It was mentally and financially taxing, but I don't think I'll ever get another opportunity to pour this level of effort into making a game happen. Putting my life on the line was a very valuable experience.

You mean to say you can feel Too Kyo Games's entire soul in the game? On another note, I couldn't find any of the characters from the concept art in the new key visual or the screenshots. Does the restart mean that those characters got shelved?

Kodaka: The game's general concept is still the same, but to put a new, clean start on it, we changed a few things completely. One of them being the character designs. But despite their changed appearances, they maintain the characterization of their predecessors, so you'll see characters similar to what those would have been.

However, the old politician you see in the upper left corner won't be in the game (laughs). He's a character Komatsuzaki made up on the spot for this illustration, so I know as much about who he is as you do. He's doomed to disappear shrouded in mystery.

(laughs) By the way, considering how The Hundred Line is "the tale of extreme x despair", I'm curious about how this keyword "despair" relates to Danganronpa.

Kodaka: The tagline "tale of extreme x despair" is to signify that this is the first game Uchikoshi and I are directing together. It has nothing to do with Danganronpa, but it is a game made leveraging all of my previous experiences. With that plus Komatsuzaki's and Takada's involvement, I consider it a spiritual successor to Danganronpa.

Who from the main Too Kyo Games roster is working in this and what are their roles?

Kodaka: Uchikoshi and I are splitting the directing and writing work, Komatsuzaki is on the character design, Shimadrill is doing the enemy design and the backgrounds, and Takada is in charge of the soundtrack. Also, Uchikoshi and I do screen composition for the scenes we write.

I didn't think I'd have to do the screen composition job here myself, but I'm the best at handling Komatsuzaki's art and Takada's music, so that job is dumped on me. I got a lot of material to work with. Maybe more expression options than Yuma had in Rain Code.

The Danganronpa series also had me personally choosing faces and soundtrack one by one, so I hope the fans of that series enjoy the familiar vibes in the visual novel sections.

The new announcement came with a key visual. Are these characters in uniforms going to be the main cast?

Kodaka: Yes. They're the students of Last Defense Academy and are living in the school for unknown reasons. The students have special powers called Hemoanimas. They normally have their own sets of clothes, but upon activating their Hemoanima, they change into this uniform and fight against their enemies.

Is the white character a mascot?

Kodaka: Yes. He's the squad coordinator character. So his name is just SIREI, from shireikan; commander. By the way, SIREI is the reincarnation of the raccoon illustrated in the key visual. Both forms of this character were designed by Komatsuzaki. I pointed him in a general direction I wanted but overall let him do whatever he wanted. Meanwhile, the students followed the usual process going through a lot of back-and-forth until their completion.

In Danganronpa, their designs reflected their Super High School Level talents. Does The Hundred Line have any kind of keyword or characterization element that informed their designs in the same way the Super High School Level talents did?

Kodaka: Each student masters a different Unique Subject and has a different weapon of choice. That's what their designs mainly reflect. I'll talk more about Unique Subjects and weapons of choice later.

I'm looking forward to the update. Next question. Danganronpa and Rain Code had all-star casts of voice actors. I have expectations for The Hundred Line's cast.

Kodaka: Unfortunately, I can't reveal the actors at the moment, but I will say half of them have performed in previous Kodaka or Uchikoshi game and the other half is people we're both meeting for the first time. But look forward to it, it's going to be as all-star as any previous game. I know the released PV is voiced by the protagonist, but who is voicing him is still confidential.

Will the creatures depicted flying above the main characters be enemies?

Kodaka: Correct. The enemies are unknown entities attacking the school. They're called School Invaders. If you take a really close look at the key visual, you may notice the academy is protected by a pink flame. That's called the Unextinguishable Flame and that's what prevents the School Invaders from attacking 24/7.

When the School Invaders get past the Unextinguishable Flame, the students will need to repel them. The students aren't informed about the academy's or the unextinguishable flame's secrets, nor they know why the School Invaders are attacking. The story progresses as they fight School Invaders day by day unaware of their circumstances.

Do you have anything noteworthy to say about your interactions with Shimadrill regarding his work designing the enemies?

Kodaka: My priority for the character design of the weaker School Invaders was that they had venomous pop aesthetics. At my first discussion with Shimadrill, we arrived at the idea of making their designs intentionally similar to the monsters of a famous game franchise, but we changed plans along the way. Ultimately, we got likable enemies with that pop aesthetic.

Playing aggressively even on the designs, huh? That's the Too Kyo Games I know.

Kodaka: We changed our aim because copying designs was a really bad idea we took too far. Our mindset at the time is that, true to Too Kyo's name, we wanted to make a game that was indeed too crazy. Too Kyo Games is a company that prides itself on its writing, designs, and music.

However, compliance is a lot more important nowadays, so there's a lot more we need to keep in mind. We were defanged by the corporate structure of our partner for the cancelled version of the game. Depictions of violence and dirty jokes that were acceptable in our previous works weren't fine with them. We had to be on our best behavior to adhere to their compliance demands.

Now that I got to remake the game as something else, I can see that not releasing it on its previous state was for the best. Because I couldn't express my strengths in full there.

The Hundred Line was my first collaborative work with Uchikoshi and our first original IP. Making a game that's simply good wouldn't be enough. There'd be no point in starting this over if we couldn't go all-out. We developed The Hundred Line determined to make a game someone with good sense couldn't make. A title to be considered a product of deranged minds. In the sense, we were very lucky to land on a partnership with Aniplex.

Tell me more about what do you mean by "lucky" here.

Kodaka: To leverage the strengths of Too Kyo Games, we're writing a very controversial narrative. Aniplex is being thankfully quite flexible with what we're allowed to depict, as they understand our fortes and respect our vision. For that reason, Uchikoshi and I were able to depict the crazy story we wanted to.

Kodaka, in a previous interview, you expressed determination toward making this game a story that make people question your sanity. A game people wouldn't expect to be possible to make. Would you say managed to fulfill this ambition?

Kodaka: I can't comment about the gimmick without getting into spoilers, so I have no plans to reveal the answer to this before the game's release. Playing the game for yourself should be enough to convey Too Kyo Games's outlandishness. I believe my reason to pair up with Uchikoshi will be equally evident, and it'll be easy to make sense of why this game needed multiple writers and recruiting new hires.

I know perfectly well this is a tasteless request, but can you drop a hint?

Kodaka: Fine, I'll tell you some details after the interview. You're allowed to address what I'll say in your opinion post (laughs).

I appreciate the gesture, but let's see if I'm up for the challenge (laughs)

Tell us what the general gameplay loop is like.

Kodaka: The Hundred Line follows a cycle of 3 parts: a visual novel section, an exploration section, and a simulation RPG section. I already explained at the opener that it's a game where you survive 100 days of combat, but that doesn't mean time will pass uneventfully.

Like in Danganronpa, something will happen each day, and you'll get chances to talk with your schoolmates and deepen your relationships. You'll get Free Time, you'll get training sessions to increase your stats, and you'll be able to get other power ups by sharpening your weapons. The goal in the visual novel and exploration sections is to enjoy life with your schoolmates while also preparing for the enemies that can appear at any moment.

Got it. Now explain the simulation RPG section too, please.

Kodaka: The simulation RPG section has tower defense elements. It's not just about defeating the enemies, you also have to fight defending the school. Also, since the School Invaders come in large flocks, the main gimmick here is that you need to fight on multiple grids of the board at the same time instead of taking it one grid at a time.

Our developer, Media Vision, has a lot of experience in simulation RPGs. We'll disclose more details about the gameplay later, but I'm glad they were able to come up with and implement hype combat ideas (such as unique traits and ultimate moves for each character) in a way that can satisfy the fans of the genre.

You mean to say the simulation RPG sections are going to be solid?

Kodaka: Correct. That said, a lot of people who buy my games are casual gamers, so I always put emphasis on ease of play.

Then first-time simulation RPG players will have nothing to worry about.

Kodaka: Another point of interest is Takada's soundtrack. I requested the battle BGM to have the intensity of an action game. It's inspired by technical rock bands from the 90s, mainly The Chemical Brothers and Boom Boom Satellites. The visual novel sections, on the other hand, have a more sci-fi-adjacent OST to match its strong sci-fi aesthetics.

Tell us a release date and the consoles.

Kodaka: Early 2025, Switch and Steam.

Less than a year before release. Do you think the team can make it?

Kodaka: We're still working on it, but I think we won't have to delay the release. To be honest, The Hundred Line is progressing faster than Rain Code was (laughs). Besides, Too Kyo Games can't afford to delay a game our creators are staking their lives on.

Messages to players and readers usually often saying things like "We're doing our best" or "Cheer for us", but for this title, I can't bring myself to be so casual about it. I feel like I'm issuing a challenge to the players here.

I have a marketing strategy to draw attention to the game, and I'm polishing it to make anyone who buys it say it's a good game, so I'm feeling more of a "Just watch me!" or a "Wait until you see this thing released!" for a closing message.

Giant Kuroda's editorial comment

As outlandish as promised.

That's the interviewer's honest impression on what Kodaka told me about The Hundred Line's gimmick. I [Giant Kuroda] have been the Famitsu interviewer in charge of Danganronpa since Danganronpa 2. I interviewed him pre-release for a game launched in 2012, which means I've been talking to Kodaka for at least 12 years.

Kodaka and his art surprised me many times. In a good way.

Danganronpa 2's final boss. Danganronpa V3's first case culprit, finale, and the secret hidden in the title. Danganronpa 3 simultaneous broadcast of Side:Future and Side:Despair. Rain Code's first case...

The list could go on forever, but The Hundred Line's gimmick is more impactful than of those. I can't deliver a final judgement until I play the game for myself, but depending on what the game has to offer, it could be his uncontested best. That's how much potential I felt in that spoiler. I get the point of staking their lives on it now.

Also, in what's rare for a Kodaka title, the game will be allowed to be streamed relatively far into the story despite earlier spoilers (information subject to change). Kodaka's story-heavy games are a double-edged sword. It's possible for players to feel like they experienced enough by simply watching a Let's Play that spoils all the twists. However, I believe this game actually benefits from unrestricted streaming. But I can't say why. It's a spoiler...

At any rate, this game is Kodaka's and Uchikoshi's first collaborative story, and as Kodaka said, its narrative is a product of deranged minds. I wait with bated breath to the day I can finally play it, and also look forward to reading opinion posts about it online. You can get your hopes up, Kodaka and Uchikoshi fans.

[harrywavycurly]

How would Niall bring us up in an interview?😍

Hiii babes!!! Oh love this question, so I’m gonna go off of the bf Niall series I have going on to answer this! I did it as a conversation between Niall and an interviewer! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all thing Boyfriend Niall Horan here✨

A/N: Niall gets asked about a certain instagram post of yours that takes him on a spiral of how long has he actually been in love with you?✨

“So Niall before we let you go there’s just one thing that’s been eating at me…” “Oh? What’s that?” “Well…I noticed a certain caption of a photo of you on your…bestfriend’s instagram-” “why’d ya do the finger quotes when you said bestfriend? You don’t think she’s my bestfriend?” “I’m sure she is but..have you seen this photo?” “Let me see here…oh would you look at that?..she always gets the best shots of me doesn’t she? Now you’re saying the caption is what’s bothering you?” “Well read it to us and you tell us what it means.” “It says…oh god…it uh well it says…yup that’s my man right there…” “and that means?” “That means…I’m her man and…I’m right there with three beers in my hand and a smile on my face for those of you tuning in at home who can’t see this absolutely beautiful photo of me that my wonderful girlfriend posted…on the internet.” “So she is your girlfriend then?” “Yeah…has been for a few months now.” “But you two have known each other for a few years right?” “Uh yeah? I think like two years now…hit it off right away and pretty sure I fell in love with her the moment she called me an asshole like five minutes after we met…but that’s a story for another time.” “Wait wait wait…you’ve loved her since you met her but you’re only just now dating?” “I mean…I don’t mean I was really in love with her I just mean she kinda knocked me on my ass and turned my world upside down and like…yeah.” “It’s giving you’ve loved her this whole time Niall…” “god she’s gonna proper kick my ass now thanks to you…I mean yeah I guess I have always loved her? But I wasn’t ready to fall in love with her until recently because I just..I had shit to deal with and didn’t want to put her through that.” “So just being besties was fine for two years?” “Yeah because I just needed her in my life and I took what I could get.” “Did you two date other people during this time or no?” “Uh..well uhm-” “uh oh…did you date other people and she didn’t?” “She dated and I didn’t….her dating other people is what made me get my head outta my ass and tell her how I was feeling.” “We know that obviously went well.” “It ended up going well but like…I knew she felt the same way about me in the beginning when we first met…we had a conversation about it and that’s when I told her I’m not ready for anything close to a serious relationship and that’s why we decided to be friends…so I was terrified to tell her my feelings for her never went away they actually just got stronger because what if she didn’t feel anything for me anymore? I was proper panicking and then she just told me she felt the same way and that once again…I’m an asshole for making her wait so long but that she would’ve waited as long as I needed because she knows I’m it for her.” “Oh god…damn it Niall not you making me cry…that’s so sweet oh my god…” “sorry…I just..I could talk about her for ages and ages if I’m being honest…but yeah she’s my girlfriend and I uh I just love her even though she is the worst photographer in the world…and yes lover of mine since I know you’re listening…I mean it… the absolute worst.” “Thank you so much for jointing us today Niall! And thanks for telling us your love story…friends to lovers is my favorite trope.” “Thanks for having me…kinda felt like a therapy session towards the end there…gotta get all that sappy stuff off my chest…oh I’m an enemies to lovers kinda guy…I love good banter…but yeah thanks for having me and talk to you lovely lot later!”

Instagram Post Mentioned:

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Angel

Summary: Coming home from college without a degree has you scrambling to find your place in the world. Charlie just might be your savior.

A/N: I was thinking this would be set around eclipse. This was in the drafts for a while.

Warnings: Besides an age gap (reader in her 20s Charlie in his 40s) there is none.

Word Count: 3.1K

You didn’t expect your life to turn out the way it did, and neither did the people of Forks. If the confused looks you would get on the way into town were anything to go by. You had been a stellar student, assignments were early if not on time, and teachers never had a bad thing to say about you. You graduated and moved on to college like everyone would expect, but college was harder. It wasn’t even the work, it was you. 

For once you had no set path, everyone else just seemed to know what they wanted to do. After 2 years you realized how far behind you felt you decided to take a break. If you didn’t know what you wanted to do you were just wasting time and money. The loneliness set in soon after too. Although you have friends they’re all off doing their things, making their place in the world. 

Your dad helped if only by sending cringe Facebook posts captioned “It’s never too late.” His efforts were much appreciated but it’s not a good feeling when you feel like you are in last place for a race you didn’t even know you were running. Staying holed up in your room won’t help but at least you won’t have to run into anyone you know. You hate feeling like such a disappointment even though your parents assured you that would never be the case.

After a few weeks of licking your wounds, you started looking for jobs. You reach downtown and begin combing through your options. All of which would require you to run into people who would ask too many questions that you do not want to answer. Forks was already limited in what they had and if you wanted to avoid working for the Newton family your choices were much more slim. But you do take note of it just in case. Syphering through your selections you almost want to give up.

Turning the corner you bump smack into another person, you brace yourself for a fall that doesn’t come. Peeking through one eye you make out a badge and ‘C. Swan’. You immediately straighten yourself up after realizing you just bumped into Chief Swan. 

“You alright-”

“I’m so sorry-”

The both of you speak at the same time, a loud silence fills the air as you both stare at each other. Your wide eyes and his furrowed brow. You snap out of it first and bend down to pick up your fallen pamphlets, The Chief crouches down to help you. 

“You don’t have to do that Chief Swan.” He ignores you in favor of picking up the rest, stealing a glance at them before handing them back to you. 

“Charlie’s fine.” He scratches his head before telling you, “Since you’re looking we could use another receptionist down at the station.” Charlie took pity on you, Although he isn’t one for gossip everyone’s been talking about how you came back from university without finishing. He knows what it feels like to be lost especially in a town like Forks. 

“Really?” The prospect of working at the station was much better than any option sitting in your hands. “Is there anything for me to fill out?”

“No just stop by on Monday and I’ll have Helen walk you through everything.” His mouth forms into what you think is a half-smile, and you return it tenfold.

The conversation with Charlie was so refreshing you’re unsure why out of all the people in Forks he was the one to make you feel normal. You realize it’s because he’s the first person to not question or probe why you’re back here. Working at the station doing administration would be perfect. On your way home you mentally comb through your closet for appropriate clothes you can wear to the station for work. The combination list isn’t huge but you could make it work.

……..

Monday morning you awake at 6:00 am to begin getting ready, he never mentioned a time but you imagine how bad you would look strolling in there at 1:00 pm. You decide on black stretchy office pants, a chocolate sweater, and white sneakers that are comfortable enough to do sustainable walking. Grabbing your backpack you pack your essentials and bid your father goodbye before heading off.

On the way in you have enough time to stop for some coffee so you order for yourself and Charlie as a thank you. You make sure to get his black with no sugar, though you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover you can’t imagine he enjoys cremer. The last stretch of your walk toward the station has your heart pounding. You're not even sure what you are nervous about it shouldn’t be that hard since it’s Forks.

The station smells like stale coffee and mothballs, the atmosphere is mostly static but that’s given. Upon walking up to the front desk you see an older redhead who you assume is Helen. You smile as you approach her and she returns one.

“Excuse me, Chief Swan said to come up here for you to train me on administration stuff.” You hope Charlie actually talked to her.

“Of course, he told me about you yesterday dear follow me.” You set down your coffee before being given the grand tour. After a minute you’re back at the front being directed on your daily duties. Most of which is pretending to look busy, Helen prefers solitaire on her computer to get her through the day. On the other hand, you brought a book that remains hidden behind the ancient monitor in front of you. 

You thought about bringing Charlie his coffee but his office lights are off and his doors are locked so he must be out patrolling already. Within 45 minutes you’re given your first task of making more coffee, while the water pours out you see Charlie step into the break room. His eyes look surprised to see you but his face doesn't change, he peers around you toward the coffee maker before he can ask you to tell him. 

“I bought you coffee on the way in, it is at the front desk.” You quickly leave the break room to get it before he can react. On your way back you inform him, “Black, no sugar, no cream.”

“Thank you.” As he takes the cup your hands brush his, and he can feel the increased beating of his heart. It’s the most contact he’s had with a woman. He likes it. Your bright smile gives him that butterfly feeling he hears Bella talk about with her friend.

“No thank you, Sher- Charlie I appreciate the opportunity.” He waves off your thanks as if he does stuff like this all the time. 

“You adjusting OK?” He finds he wants to keep conversation with you despite his nature. You may be surprised but you don’t show it, enjoying this interaction.

“Yes, Helen is nice and I get to just pretend to work all day.” You bump your hip against him before you can think better of it.

Charlie surprises you with a deep chuckle, It’s not a full-blown laugh but it’s more than enough. It’s no secret that Charlie is one of the more attractive men in Forks, but you didn’t think of him like that until now. Not many men could pull off the 70s pornstache, or his grumpy attitude without being a complete ass. Your thoughts are interrupted by Charlie leaning down to speak quietly to you.

“Well let me know if you need more books to keep you busy Bella’s got tons of those romance ones.” He rolls his eyes playfully and nods his head before heading to his office. 

In the wake of his leave, you revel in the way his deep voice felt so close to your ear. However, you don’t dwell on his actions too much because there is no way he was flirting with you. Making your way back to the front desk you see Helen packing up to leave, she informs you she’s taking lunch. 

Charlie lets out an exasperated sigh at the stack of paperwork waiting for him when he unlocks his office. The coffee you brought him goes straight down like a shot, he appreciates the fact that you knew he wouldn’t like the extra bullshit. Throughout his shift, he sneaks peeks at you. He pauses when he sees you talking on the phone, telling himself he’s only checking to make sure you don’t need help. But the way your lips move has him in a trance, he snaps out of it before you can catch him. 

Even though he spent a fair amount of time staring at you he managed to complete over half of his paperwork. He’s overdue for a break and he knows you could use one since you never took a lunch.  

You have been manning the phones even after Helen came back, you know you should’ve taken your 1-hour lunch but you were in a groove. At least until Charlie strolled up beside you to see what you were doing. You could smell Irish Spring wafting off of him with a hint of laundry detergent. 

“You busy?” It was a loaded question on his part but he didn't want to just command you to come with him. 

“Not for the Chief.” You turn your body towards him to prove your words, and in return the corner of his mouth lifts almost like a smile.

“Lunch on me then?” He asks you with his hands balled in his pockets.

“I’ll never turn down a free lunch.” You turn to Helen to check that she’ll be okay, and she gives you a wink nodding her head toward the chief telling you to ‘have fun’. You raise our eyebrows at the implication.

On the way out Charlie gets the door, and his veiny forearm peeks out from his uniform. You wouldn’t say you have a thing for hairy guys but yet again Charlie somehow makes it work. Luckily you could blame the frigid breeze for your flustered expression. You follow his lead to the cruiser and he opens your door for you again. Your bashful expression after thanking him goes straight to his lower stomach, it’s been a while since a woman looked at him so fervently. 

Once he’s in the cruiser a comfortable silence fills the air, and you think of all the things you could bring up with him later in the diner. So far all you’ve come up with are sports and books but honestly, that should be more than enough for Charlie. Orange leaves take up most of the ground, a warning for the upcoming months. The diner is the same as always when you pull up, you open the door before Charlie can hustle his way to where you are. The stern look he gives you only makes your sudden attraction to him worse. 

The bell above the door alerts Cora to your presence. Charlie saddles up right behind you urging you forward with his hand on your middle back. Walking past the patrons, you can feel the questioning stares. But you’re sure Charlie won’t pay them any mind so neither do you. At the booth, Charlie gestures for you to slide in first.

Cora turns to you for your order since she already knows Charlie’s by heart.

“I’ll do a burger and fries with a sprite please.” You smile at Cora as she takes down your order. 

“So,” You turn to Charlie, “What’s been going on in the sports world?” 

Charlie’s side glance is enough to make you laugh. “Steelers are cleaning up, they have a path to the Super Bowl.” He didn’t mean to look at you crazy but it was the first time in a while someone was genuinely interested in his interests. The flutters in his stomach make another appearance. 

“My dad’s a cowboy fan so it’s the same thing every year.” Charlie snorts at that. 

The sound of plates landing in front of you ends your and Charlie’s moment. Looking up your eyes meet Cora’s and you thank her before she leaves again. You and Charlie waste no time digging into your food. With all of your fries and most of your burger gone you throw in the towel, leaning back against the booth.

“You gonna eat that?” Charlie eyes the rest of your burger.

“No, you can have it.” After your acceptance, he finishes it in one quick bite. You wish you didn't find that attractive.

……….

After your first lunch together many were shared, Charlie would always schedule his break around yours to make sure you ate. He also wanted to spend time with you when the opportunity would lend itself. The feeling was mutual, you put in more effort with your work outfits and make-up. Every morning you would stop to get Charlie coffee on the way in, and Helen would always give you sly smiles. You figured she picked up on the undertones of your and Charlie’s interactions, but unlike most people, she kept it to herself.

That didn’t stop others from probing you about your “Diner Dates” with the Chief. When you were collecting produce a few older women came up to you under the guise of concern. They told you getting with a man that age wouldn’t be good for any girl your age, while it was good advice you know it wasn’t given with good intentions. Instead, you pretend to not know what they are talking about effectively outing their ill-informed gossip. Charlie also hadn’t shown any initiative to ask you out on an actual date so you’re unsure where the fuel is coming from. 

The next day at work you decide to pull back seeing as the entire town somehow thinks you both are dating. You took your lunch before Helen, the words of the older ladies on replay in your head. Sure it was the wrong messenger but it was the right message you don’t know what you were thinking. 

It didn’t last a day, Charlie came by the desk deliberately when Helen took her lunch. 

“Hey there’s some discrepancies with the evidence log of Riley’s stuff, can you help me sort through it.” Though he posed it as a question he began to walk toward his office immediately. 

Once you’re in the office he shuts the door behind you before he moves to stand in front of his desk.

“I just uh wanted to check that everything was alright,” He clears his throat before continuing, “That you feel comfortable or if there’s something I’ve done.” After he finishes your face morphs to shock.

“No of course not, I just know there’s been some gossip around town about us dating and figured I’d have lunch by myself.” Charlie’s eyebrows furrow at your admission.

“I haven’t heard anything did someone say something to you?” His voice drops at the thought of anyone badgering you about this. 

“It’s not a big deal, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfo-” He cuts you off with a deadpan stare. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable with people thinking a woman out of my league is dating me?” His definitive words leave you stunned. “It is a big deal, do you remember who it was?”

“No it’s fine Charlie really,” You try to convince him.

“It’s not if means you don’t go to lunch with me.” He gripes.

“I didn’t realize you enjoyed my company that much.” You stare at him until he returns your gaze.

“Well I do.” He assures you.

The both of you stand in front of each other in silence, the smile grows bigger on your face at Charlie’s confession. 

“Does this mean you want to go on a date with me?” You inch your way closer to him, gently tugging his tie. 

“Of course I do, I was working my way up to it.” He swallows hard when he feels you get even closer to him. 

“Yeah?” Your eyes never stray from his as your smile widens. Charlie’s eyes fall to your lips just as quickly as he looks away. You grab his hands placing them on your waist before bringing your lips to his ear. “How about now?” 

Charlie’s hands firmly grip your waist when he feels your warm breath tickle his ear. His pants grow tighter when your perfume invades his nostrils. When you reer back to look at him he wastes no time planting his lips on yours. His mustache tickles underneath your nose but you respond back with the same fervor. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, Charlie groans at your eagerness. 

Your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck to play with the hair on the back of his neck. When his tongue licks your bottom lip you eagerly open your mouth to him, pressing your chest against his. Charlie lets his hands dip to cup your ass through the jeans you’re wearing, earning himself a pretty moan from you. The way his tongue licks into your mouth gives you ideas of what else he would be good at. 

But all good things come to an end, and a knock at the door sends you two flying apart. You immediately focus on fixing yourself so it doesn’t look like you were in a make-out session with your boss. A folder catches your eye and you pick it up hoping to look busy. Helen peeks her head in to let Charlie know Bella is getting dropped off by Edward. Charlie’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the mention of his daughter’s boyfriend, you can’t stop the giggle that pours out of you. 

Helen slips back out and Charlie walks over to the far corner you’ve placed yourself in. “It’s a little backward now but would you let me take you out on a proper date?” 

“I’ll have to check my schedule.” You smile up at him knowing he knows you’re joking.

“How does Saturday at 7 sound?” He bends down to your ear before continuing, “I know a nice Italian place in Port Angeles.” When he pulls back he is glad to see the bashful expression on your face. He’s still got it. 

“It sounds great Charlie.” You get on your tip toes to peck him on the cheek before exiting his office. 

On the way to your desk, you see Edward and Bella sitting in the waiting chairs talking. As you sit down you see Bella’s head snap in your direction, her and Edward's conversation halting. You pretend to do work as usual until Charlie comes out to greet Bella and grunt in Ed’s direction. 

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Long time lurker first time ask haha

But if you still write for batman villains and are currently taking requests, how would the main 5 + Bane and whoever you'd like react to having an S/O who is constantly stealing things from their closet, like a shirt or a sweater.

Also thank for even reading this your wonderful and I am obsessed with how you write all of them! I hope your having a good day :)

Honey? Where's my supersuit!?

Oh hi lingering time lurker it's so nice to see you!🥰

Scarecrow: The change in weather was coming so Jonathan could resort to his thicker woollen sweater vests. He reached for it in his drawer only to find it wasn't there. That's odd. It should have been there. It's the right colour for his jacket too. Where could it have gone? Then he sighed to himself and pulled out his phone from his pocket. He checked your social media. Your recent picture showed you wearing the very sweater vest he was looking for. He sighed. "Fine. I suppose the other one will do." He gave in trying to stop you ages ago.

The Riddler: If you ever had a reason to steal his clothes, it was because the weather was getting colder. So you stole his sweatshirt. However, what was better was that he probably wouldn't notice because it was an old one. It was almost like a game actually. It'll be amusing to see how long it actually takes for him to notice. Turns out it took 4 hours. You also speculated he was hacking your social media accounts. You took a picture and left it in the drafts. Only to find it posted a few hours later with the caption. "I steal my boyfriends sweaters."

Two-Face: He was passing by when he did a double-take on (Y/N). "...(Y/N)?" "Hm?" You looked up from your phone on the couch. "I might be imagining things but...are you wearing my boxers?" Harvey asked. You chuckled sheepishly. "They're comfy." "That's really hot." Harv' blurted out. You snickered as Harvey looked disappointed in his alter. "He has no filter around you, I swear." He sighed. "Please just keep in mind I only have so many and you don't always do the laundry when you plan to." Harvey then teased.

Black Mask: When you walked into the room, he noticed immediately. "Well, look at you, you suit my shirt, gorgeous." He eyed his black shirt on you. His eyes roamed up and down. "Smell like me too. It just gets better and better." He looked smug, like the sight alone had put him into a good mood. "Good morning to me." He chuckled to himself.

Mad Hatter: He went to deal with his usual crimes and hallucinations when he halted mid stride. "I knew something was wrong." Jervis said as he looked at his hands. His bare pale hands. His black leather gloves weren't on his hands. "Oh dearie me, this isn't good. Not one, not one bit, no siree!" (Y/N) turned the corner. "Huh?" "I lost my gloves! My hands are bare! Oh, how I despair!" He yelled. He showed his hands, limp wrists infront of him like he was imitating a T-Rex. "What do I do with my hands now!?" "Jervis, honey..." (Y/N) replied. "I borrowed them, let me go get them." "Oh? Oh...that's a relief." He exhaled.

Bane: "Is that my belt!?" He huffed. "Yeah, I needed to borrow it." You replied. "Don't tell me you don't own a belt now?" He groaned. "I don't actually." You replied. "So buy yourself one." Bane countered. "Why would I when I can use yours?" "For the exact reason that it's mine!" Bane groaned loudly. You stared at him for a moment. "You haven't needed to use a belt in years." You said with exasperation. Bane paused. You had him there. "Oh fine!" He huffed.

[2hoothoots]

i was having a chuckle to myself last night about Gristol, and how his plans are basically:

Restore Ford Cruller's memory

Find Maligula

???

Profit

but then... of course they are, right? this is Gristol we're talking about. Fatherland Follies drives home again and again that he's still operating on a child's logic, a warped and reductive version of the world that he never bothered to grow out of. both of his memory vaults center on the images of his childhood, this idealized version of the past that he clings to no matter what. and that's still how he remembers Maligula, too - as this saviour figure, who rushes in to help him when he's in trouble.

[ID: Two slides from Gristol's memory vault, Glory to Grulovia! Left: Gristol clings to Maligula's back as she summons waves to sweep away his assailants. Right: Gristol and Maligula waving from a balcony as the people cheer. Gzar Theodore brandishes a dagger in the background.]

like so much else, Maligula represents a return to this idyllic childhood - to the peace and simplicity of his youth, when he was free from worries and responsibilities. in his mind, he doesn't need to make any further plans - once Maligula's back, everything will go back to normal. Maligula will make everything better.

...is what i thought, but then i remembered this line:

[Screenshot source. ID: Gristol, in Truman's body, bows on his hands and knees in front of the newly-awaked Maligula. The caption reads: "Yes, High Priestess! I am here to correct the mistakes made by my father!"]

and that's kind of interesting, right?

to be clear: this happens directly after Maligula sees Helmut-in-Gristol's-body, and recognises him. her line before this is:

"Little Gzesaravich! Have you come to pay for your father's sins?"

my first thought was that Gristol hadn't expected to still be in Truman's body by the time he managed to find Maligula, and this was him trying to placate her and buy some time until he could explain the situation. but watching the cutscene back, that's clearly not what's happening here. Gristol is answering as himself, and his response of throwing himself to his knees before her is, as far as i can tell, genuine.

so what is going on here?

in Fatherland Follies, there's this line in the ride narration that stuck out to me:

"Why didn't the Gzar help Maligula in her time of need? No one knows, but historians agree - it is Gzar Theodore's biggest failure."

other lines mention Gzar Theodore's "mistake", and it's wording Gristol himself echoes in the screencap above. evidently, he believes that his father abandoned Maligula, leaving her to her fate at the hands of the Psychonauts, and it was that mistake that lead to them being driven out of the country - that mistake which he seeks to correct. maybe he even feels like he has a debt to repay to her for his family turning their backs on her all those years ago.

the 'High Priestess' thing, though - that's kinda weird, and threw me for a loop the first time i played the game. it took me until my second playthrough to connect the dots, and remember how the room in the Lady Luctopus - Gristol's room - was full of Delugionist scribblings and symbols.

[Screenshot source. ID: left, the walls of the hidden backroom in Gristol's hotel suite, covered in scrawlings of eyeballs and Maligula's name. Right, the pinboard from the hidden backroom. On its surface are photographs and newspaper clippings connected by pieces of string.]

i mean, look at this stuff! he had a whole conspiracy board and everything!

we learn very little about the Delugionists and their beliefs as a whole during the game, but i think drawing the connection here suggests two important things. one: that Gristol was in deep with this stuff. i don't know how he linked up with them - maybe via old family connections, or just good old-fashioned digging (we know he's skilled at worming his way into peoples' good graces, after all) - but it seems likely that he's begun to internalise their ideas, maybe even warping his own memories of events. and two: the Delugionists themselves are, if you'll pardon the pun, pretty far off the deep end.

like... i understand why PN2 didn't go heavy on the "mass-murderer cult worship" aspect of things, in the end, but man this is such a tantalising glimpse into the wider mythos around Maligula. Gristol is proud and haughty and thinks himself above everyone else; the fact that his first reaction seeing Maligula is to throw himself to the ground at her feet says so much about the way he's come to see her. he's not just trying to bring back Maligula, his childhood bodyguard. he's trying to bring back Maligula, the High Priestess of the deluge, the semi-mythical figure whose supporters believe even death couldn't stop. he doesn't even flinch at the way she confronts him, and maybe it's because he's bought in so completely to this deified figurehead, this idea of Maligula; more a living force of nature than a person. and it all comes back to the same place: an abdication of responsibility, not just to the person who protected him when he was little but to this avatar of floods and destruction. Maligula will make everything better.

i'd write more about my thoughts on the Delugionists but that'd be taking a hard turn into speculation, and this is already kind of long and rambling so i'd better end it here. but what an unexpected and evocative line, right? it's some of the only stuff we have to go off of regarding the Delugionists as a whole, but i think it does such a good job of hinting at the wider story - at teasing another layer to the mythos surrounding Maligula, one whose ripples we see throughout the game but which never quite breaches the surface.

[lostloveletters]

A Long, Lonely Time (David Webster x Reader)

Summary: You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone, but when Webster returns to Easy Company, you find it difficult to reckon with the very real possibility of losing him again, maybe even for good.

Note: Gender neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. The draft script of episode 3 provides more background on Webster transferring into Easy Company, which isn’t explained in the show for some reason (a shame because they cut out some pretty great scenes), but I included a handful of the details here. This is based on the fictional portrayals in the HBO miniseries and not the real individuals. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Hurt/angst with comfort. Mentions of Eugene Jackson’s death. Playing with the timeline of episode 8 a little bit. Probably some other historical inaccuracies. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Two days. David Webster had only been back for two days, and you kissed him.

Your crush on him had hibernated in his absence, frozen in a forest with the rest of you. It thawed as soon as you saw him for the first time in months.

The other members of Easy weren’t so quick to warm up to him again. No matter, it just gave you more time to spend with him. You appreciated how from the moment the two of you first bonded over your shared love of literature, he was genuinely interested in your thoughts and opinions, assuaging your fears that you’d be a lackluster companion to the Ivy Leaguer.

He could’ve taken the easy route as others with a privileged background like his had done and allowed his social status to get himself a cushy position. However, he, like Caption Nixon, inexplicably chose the rest of you. Unlike Nixon and yet just as inexplicable, he rejected any promotions. Odd, yet admirable, like when he’d approached Winters in Aldbourne after D-Day, requesting to transfer from Fox to Easy to put his skills as an assistant machine gunner to better use.

None of that mattered to your comrades anymore, but as a medic, you appreciated that he took recovering from being wounded seriously. You told him such, and he smiled, confessing that he had used his stint in the hospital for one selfish indulgence. Later, when the two of you were alone; he pulled a brown paper package from his pack, privately presenting you with a gift he got his hands on for you. Ripping back the wrapping, you beamed when you saw the cover of a brand new ASE copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice.

Your worn copy of Jane Eyre had been waterlogged from the snow and rendered illegible. New books were low priority in the Bois Jacques, so you were left without reading material for longer than you would’ve liked.

The book was the first time in what felt like years you’d received a gift. You had almost forgotten how nice it was, especially something so thoughtful. So you kissed him, impulsively, passionately, threading your fingers through his hair to pull him closer, your other hand gripping the book tightly. 

He kissed you back with a tenderness that had long since become foreign to you and felt almost too overwhelming as a result. His lips were soft and warm compared to yours, chapped from weeks of unrelenting cold, but he was undeterred. His hands held your waist, his fingers gently pressing against the skin that’d been exposed as your untucked shirt had ridden up. You shuddered against him, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin–either the cold air, or his touch. Probably both.

Hearing the clamoring of nearby voices, you reluctantly broke the kiss.

“I don’t have anything to give you,” you lamented breathlessly.

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle when he smiled. “I think we’re even.”

“You know,” you began, turning the book over to glance at the synopsis, “all I ever heard when this came out was that it was dirty. Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Books aren’t dirty. It’s embarrassing that Boston even bans them the way they do.”

“Have you read it?”

“I haven’t, but that’s not the point. They’d ban Shakespeare if he were publishing today.”

“I don’t disagree with you,” you said, suppressing an amused smile, “but I only asked because I thought we could read it together, if you don’t mind the company.”

His expression softened. “I’d love that.”

Smiling, you leaned in for another kiss when the door opened, and the two of you jumped away from each other like the other was on fire.

You relaxed when you saw Roe standing in the doorway. He gave you an almost exasperated look, but that was all. For the moment.

“Webster,” Gene said, giving him a nod of acknowledgement before shifting his attention to you. “Will you sort through those supplies Luz got earlier? I gotta check on Lipton.”

“Sure,” you said with a nod. “Thanks again, Web–David, the book’s great.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

You followed Gene out of the room, walking side-by-side down the hallway until you were a decent distance from Webster and out of earshot from anyone who might otherwise eavesdrop. When your best friend stopped in his tracks, you mirrored him, flattering a bit beneath the weight of his disapproving glare.

“Are you crazy?” Gene scolded.

“He gave me a book. It’s not–don’t look at me like that.”

“However wounded he gets, it’s gonna be a lot worse for you.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know. This ain’t the time or place.”

“There might not be another time or place,” you argued.

He sighed, either conceding to your argument or not finding it worth wasting any more breath over. For how long you’d known him, he could be impossibly difficult to read. “Just be careful, alright?”

Gene brought you to the recently delivered boxes of medical supplies, desperately needed weeks ago. Better late than never. You rifled through bandages and morphine, hands shaking a bit as you tried not to think about who might have still been there if it’d come in sooner. But Webster came back, even though you’d long been convinced you’d never see him again. At least if the worst happened, you wouldn’t have to wonder if your feelings for him were reciprocated.

The worst. You weren’t sure what, out of everything you’d seen the past few months, could have been considered the worst. Slow deaths, blown off limbs, or men whose bodies and psyche were trapped in that place between life and death. But you couldn’t let yourself spiral, not when so many people were relying on you. Hope seemed increasingly hard to find, and if indulging in whatever you had with David gave you the slightest bit more, you’d take it.

As if materializing from your thoughts of him, he walked into the room, silent concern etched in his face.

“There’s a patrol tonight,” he said. “We’re going across the river to bring back prisoners.”

“Who all’s going?” You figured if he was breaking the news to you, he’d be included. A sinking feeling dropped in your stomach when he answered, nevertheless.

“Most of 2nd platoon, except Liebgott and Malarkey.”

“It’s always 2nd platoon,” you muttered. “So you’re going as translator, then?”

He nodded. “The Krauts won’t expect us, at least that’s what they say.”

“I’m still gonna worry,” you said softly. “Just got you back.”

“Comes with the territory, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“I’ll find you as soon as we’re done,” he promised.

“Can I give you a kiss for good luck?”

“I’ll never say no to that.”

You pressed your lips to his, craving the tenderness he’d given you earlier like it was missing from your veins. You hadn’t realized how much you needed it, soft words and tender touches that made you finally feel something other than numb and tired. Desire that would long remain unfulfilled had settled deep inside of you, and you desperately wished you and David were somewhere, anywhere else. 

Holding onto him just as tightly as you were trying to keep your restraint, you went as far as he led you, open-mouthed kisses burning into your skin until a moan escaped your lips, nearly giving the two of you away.

“You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met,” he said, giving you a quick kiss that felt achingly insufficient for what you wanted from him.

“Wait ‘til you get me in bed,” you joked.

He laughed, caressing your cheek. “I mean it. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

“Shame we had to meet this way, huh? But then we probably would’ve gone the rest of our lives not knowing each other at all.”

“That’d be a real tragedy.”

“You’re telling me.”

Far too soon for your liking, though you weren’t sure how much time had passed in all honesty, he made his leave as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder and darkness began to fall. 

You tried to keep your mind off of the patrol, assure yourself that you were worrying for nothing. Sitting on an empty couch, you finally got a better look at the book he presented you with, not having a chance to before. He’d written on the blank cover page, filled the whole thing and then some.

Beneath your name, carefully written in pencil, an inscription, detailing the longing he felt from your absence, his heart growing fonder of you with each passing day but struggling to assuage the loneliness and doubt that began to coil around it. The sound of your voice, your laughter, so vivid in his dreams that he’d wake up looking for you. He’d taken your friendship for granted, he claimed, but though the two of you met during less than ideal circumstances, getting shot was worth meeting you. Your vision began to blur with tears by the time you reached the end of his confession, ‘I missed you before we ever met, and now that we have, I miss you even more.’

You slammed the book shut, choking out a sob. It wasn’t fair. You’d just gotten him back, and in the blink of an eye you could lose him again, possibly for good. In that moment you understood better than ever why medics were supposed to keep their emotional distance, but the pain in your chest, the salty tears that stung your eyes were all worth it for the brief comfort you had found with him. You’d been so lonely otherwise, constantly surrounded by people but still feeling something missing until he returned.

Your name sounded muffled to the ringing in your ears, until Gene sat next to you, putting his arm around your shoulder. 

“Don’t get too stuck in your head. Won’t be able to help no one like that,” Gene said, holding you in the hug. “Don’t think about it.”

“How can I not? It’s all around us–I can’t–”

“Yes, you can. You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I don’t feel like it sometimes. I feel like I’m just–”

“Just one person and it’s never gonna be enough.”

Something had happened in Bastogne, the last time he went back to the town. He never spoke of it, even when you offered to be an unjudging ear to spill his thoughts to, but you could tell it affected him deeply, even still. Knowing he was speaking from experience was an almost painful comfort.

“Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll be up,” he said.

“You sure?”

He nodded. 

When he left, you set the book aside, silently promising yourself that you wouldn’t read it without Webster. If he didn’t return, it’d stay with you, unread until you met your own demise. An unnecessarily dramatic gesture to only yourself, you hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

The following hours found you in and out of sleep, almost unable to discern your erratic dreams with troubling reality. Footsteps and voices muddled together into unintelligible ramblings that you couldn’t help interpret as the worst in your near fugue state. Your worry was laced with frustration at letting the situation cause you so much distress. You were a medic, after all. You were supposed to be prepared for this.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel a momentary wave of relief crash over you when Webster walked into the room.

“Thank god,” you whispered, throwing your arms around him and kissing his cheek. 

His embrace was stiff, awkward, and the far away expression on his face gave you pause.

“David, what happened?”

“Jackson’s dead. It was his own grenade. He didn’t wait long enough. It just…”

“Oh my god.”

“He didn’t die right away.”

“Why didn’t someone get me? Maybe I could’ve–”

“By the time Sergeant Martin got Doc Roe it was already too late. There was nothing Doc could do—nothing you could’ve done,” he said quietly, before adding, “I’m glad you didn’t see it.”

“I’ve seen worse by now.”

“Why add onto it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. That I didn’t write to you, that I didn’t tell you sooner how I felt about you, but it’s no use dwelling on all of that now,” he said. “It can’t change anything, and no matter how sorry we are, it won’t bring Jackson back, or anyone else, for that matter.”

It was settling in, that same bitterness that’d made its home in the bones of your comrades. A taste in your mouth that could be mistaken for blood by anyone else, but you knew it all too well. Your heart ached at seeing it finally get to Webster, too.

“Do you wanna just sit for a while?” you asked.

He nodded. The two of you settled onto the couch, his head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair, gently tracing the soft lines that ran across his forehead, betraying that despite his closed eyes, his mind was still racing. 

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend the rest of the night with you,” he mumbled after a while, his eyes fluttering open.

“David, it’s alright,” you said, your thumb brushing back and forth across his cheekbone, trying to pull his mind out of the depths you knew too well. “I’m glad just to do this. I’m kind of crazy about you.”

“Kind of?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

“What would I have to do to make you a fully-fledged lunatic?”

“Horrible, indecent things that would get me sent home in shame.”

He laughed. “But crazy about me?”

“Absolutely wild.”

He took your hand from his face, kissing your palm before holding it in his. 

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but you awoke the next morning with an unforgiving crick in your neck, and the thought of the recently delivered aspirin tempted you for a split second before you realized you’d woken up by yourself.

He probably slipped out at some point, returning to his bunk so neither of you would get into any trouble. It didn’t stop you from asking around for him until you finally caught him alone.

“Hey, where’d you run off to?” you asked.

“Sink wants another patrol,” Webster told you, watching cautiously as your hands balled into fists at your side.

You fought back tears of frustration. “Then I wanna go too. I’ll make sure nothing like what happened last night happens again. Where’s Captain Winters? I’ll–”

“Winters is going to tell him a phony story about how we went back but couldn’t get any more prisoners.”

You paused, your brain taking a moment to process the information before you let out a weak laugh in disbelief, the tears that’d welled up in your eyes rolling down your cheeks regardless. Maybe you were delirious. Or sleep deprived. And your neck still hurt. “That man is a fucking saint.”

Webster smiled, putting his arm around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. “He is. Especially since that leaves me free the rest of the night.”

“You know, this handsome guy just gave me a brand new copy of The Postman Always Rings Twice.”

“Sounds like he has good taste.”

You smiled. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

[semifilms]

Prompt : waking up horrified as they find out pictures of them making out in a parking lot have been spread everywhere overnight

Character: The rooster headed capitalist

PLEASEEEEE

Thank you <3

☆"WHAT DO WE DO NOW?" | kuroo tetsuro

a/n - tell me why when i tried to title this i struggled so i wrote it first then settled. anyway! i also thought imagine “rooster head capitalist” is someone completely different…i’ll delete my account

cw - light swearing & manga spoilers (?)

prompt list - @novelbear

last night was mostly a blur to you. you remember going out to hang out with some of your friends. no, it wasn’t a blur because you were hungover, you honestly em barely even drank. the night was just long and…interesting.

as you groggily say up in your bed rubbing your eyes, you thought back to last night. and your fingers hovered over your lips at a specific moment in the night. one where you were in a dimly lit booth with one of your closest friends. kuroo tetsuro.

you’ve known him for a few years now and he’d never really tried anything with you. romantically that is. yet last night he was all over you. making flirty comments and touching you in places that gave you butterflies. even if they were just small gestures.

and last night, you fed into the flirting because why not? the next thing you knew though, your lips were interlocked with his, and his jaw was cupped gently on your jaw.

you'd admit it, kuroo was a good kisser, a great one even. especially when that was the first thing you thought about the next morning. but you’re just friends and nothing more so why did it even happen?

you were pulled away from your thoughts when you heard your phone continuously vibrate. letting out a small yawn you reached for your phone and turned it on to see several missed calls and texts. “oh shit.” you mumbled out loud as you opened one from your cousin, confused.

it was just a link to twitter followed by three question marks, so you clicked it ad your mouth fell slightly agape when the tweet loaded and you saw the photos attached.

if it weren’t for the familiar black bead of hair you wouldn’t have been able to tell that the other person in the image. barely visible but lips so obviously locked with kuroo’s was you. you didn’t even want to scroll through the replies, just the thought made your stomach churn.

the caption on the tweet read;

Kuroo Tetsuro, JVA for the Japan Men’s National Volleyball Team was spotted last night with a mystery lover. Many thought he was an eligible bachelor, but were they wrong? Read more here!: (linktogossipsite.jp)

without another thought, you opened up your call log and searched his name, and hit call. the line buzzed a few times before you heard his voice ring through.

“hello?” he has just woken up, and his voice was low and groggy. you could hear him shuffling to sit up.

“have you seen twitter?” you asked immediately after his response. “no, i just woke up, you woke me up.” he groaned. “we’ll check, because you’re trending.” you said with an eye roll before adding on, “actually, we’re trending.”

with that you could hear him scramble out of his bed on the other side, “hold on” he mumbled before his side went silent. you waited in silence impatiently. “OH SHIT!” kuroo booked through the phone. “who even took these, do these people not know what privacy is?”

you chucked a little bit at his comment, “i don’t think i want to be spotted with you in public anymore if it means im going o be photographed mr. sports promoter for the national volleyball team.” you cooed teasingly.

“hey don’t be like that! who cares if we were together anyway, it’s not anyone else’s business but ours.” you felt butterflies flutter around in your stomach at that comment. but you shouldn’t have, because that wouldn’t happen. you were just friends.

right?

“kuroo what do we do now?”

“do you want to go out tonight y/n?” he cut you off and you felt a lump form in your throat. “did you even hear me?” you asked. “i heard what you were trying to say, yes.” he said, “but i want to take you out on a proper date. last night was us and friends, and it wasn’t a date.”

“are you serious? people are going to keep thinking we’re a couple?”

“so? who cares y/n? do you want to go on a date or not?” you’d be lying to yourself if you said no. and besides, he was right, who really cared if random people on the internet would get upset. “okay yeah sure.”

“great, dress nice and i’ll pick you up at 9 tonight.”

©semifilms do not copy, repost or translate my works

reblogs appreciated!

[lavender-rosa]

Kny characters + most traumatizing internet experiences

(modern au obvi)

That time Nezuko sent Tanjirou a text that said "look at this adorable video of a puppy and a raccoon being friends!!!! :0 🌸" but then when he clicked on it, it was the music video for the song "never gonna give you up" by Rick Astley. Why would Nezuko do this to him?

When Douma left his laptop open for Akaza to accidentally read some of the replies to his most recent tweet. He doesn't even know what those comments meant, but they were scary.

When Douma texted Akaza and Kokushibou a link to an article that talked about a gruesome murder that took place in the town like thirty years ago, with the caption " omg do u guys think ur house is haunted ? O-O" Akaza replied "Douma why are you being so ridiculous" but Kokushibou, who has always been personally convinced that his house is haunted, felt a chill run down his spine...

That time Shinobu sent Giyuu a text that said "giyuu have you seen the latest mitski mv" but then when he clicked on it, it was the music video for the song "never gonna give you up" by Rick Astley.

Sanemi taking the "Am I Gay?" quiz at 3am and then promptly deleting his browser history and attempting to set his computer on fire for good measure, setting off his smoke alarm and waking up the entire house, for which he had no good explanation other than the wholly unbelievable lie that he was trying to lit a scented candle but his hand slipped and landed on his computer keyboard instead.

When Zenitsu made Tanjirou listen to some of Kaigaku's soundcloud rap and instead of finding it funny like Zenitsu assumed he would it gave Tanjirou such a bad migraine he actually started crying.

When Gyutaro is accidentally in the background of one of Daki's selfies and a couple of her ig comments are "who's that guy behind u ????" leading him to fear that they would track him down, invade his home and tear him apart like a pack of wild animals. Daki said "uh...that's definitely not going to happen" but based on what he knows of her following, he maintains it's a likely possibility ok????

When Tanjirou had strep throat and couldn't read aloud to Muichirou like he usually does and Genya, out of the kindness of his heart, offered to sub in, and Muichirou made him read all 38 chapters of "My Immortal" to him, insisting that Tanjirou would do this for him, and therefore if he doesn't that means he is a bad friend.

That time Uzui sent Rengoku a text that said "hey i read this article regarding an unlimited free pizza coupon winning competition i thought you might find interesting, tell me what you think" but then when he clicked on it, it was the music video for the song "never gonna give you up" by Rick Astley.

And last but not least: When Kaigaku left his laptop open for Zenitsu to accidentally read his latest reddit post. Terrifying stuff.

[sweetie-bri]

*slips $10* can we please see a future caption with a mean girl turning into a gentle but sexy goddess?

Problem of Evil [Goddess TF Caption]

"Yes~ DIE FOR ME! You insignificant little parasite! You LIVE to please me, so why not die for me?!" The muffled cries of Anna's most recent sacrifice were snuffed out quickly by the dagger hitting the stone altar through the victim with a satisfying *clink.* The soul seeped deep into Anna who took it in graciously.

"All that matters is *me!* I *will* ascend to godhood, I *will* become beautiful..." The mantra she'd told herself since she started her cult became closer and closer to reality. Anna's routine was simple. Indoctrinate her small group of child acolytes, drug her adult acolytes, use them how she pleased but most importantly... End their lives on the ritual altar to accept their soul into hers.

It didn't even feel good, in fact, it hurt. Anna suffered continually for no better reason than the pursuit of eternal power. Eventually, after countless hours and almost a decade of ritual sacrifice. She allowed her mortal body to perish, accepting the power of the thousands of souls which clung to her into her spirit.

She woke with a start in a plane beyond description. She didn't hurt. In fact she didn't feel much of anything... The only thing to see was a small cyan and green marble in the center of the room. Earth.

So destructable! SO WEAK AND POWERLESS TO HER GODHOOD. Finally, she had everything she wanted. Anna's spirit could level the entire planet. Leaving it as smoldering rubble for her own amusement. And yet, she didn't.

For all her rhetoric and greed, it was almost beautiful. Watching countless lives live and die through years. Bonds and deaths, births to cultures she never saw in her mortal life.

"How could I... ruin this..?"

It humbled her. The idea of the world going on without her didn't frighten her anymore. In fact, she found it peaceful. Her hectic life making others suffer was absolutely meaningless on a macro scale.

She watched her old acolytes live and die. Their children, their children's children and their children to. Fighting to avoid rotting then rotting away. It made her giggle.

Every-so-often she would find a small human and imbue them with a disproportionate amount of energy, making them better, bigger, faster, smarter, stronger. She found it so... eye opening to watch them die. Their lives were so brilliant and yet, life moved on.

She mostly sat and watched, though. It was more comforting that way. Days turned to years, turned to centuries, turned to millenia. Before she knew it, nothing remained. Nothing she knew at least. Not even life.

Anna envied that which died, for now she realized that her godhood simply meant that no one could save her. There she sat, in a plane beyond planes unable to waste away. She was content.

This punishment was well deserved.