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dooberific · 3 months ago

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❝𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘔𝘳. 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘢.❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre/warnings: suggestive, nsfw mentions, he’s just a boy loser guys idk what you want me to say

summary: you are order, and he is chaos. He thinks you’re his type, and you think he deserves a good tease for the trouble he’s caused you.

wc: 1.8k

Asaba Harumasa was convinced that Deputy Chief Tsukishiro had made up her mind to finally put an end to his existence.

Now sure he liked to skimp on his paperwork every now and then, or call out sick for multiple days in a row, or do whatever he could to clock out early, or fall asleep at his desk (all things he firmly understands don’t help his case), but this? Convincing the Chief to let her handpick an “executive assistant” to run the Section 6 office like a real prison? He was sure it violated some law against war crimes and torture.

You were everything his existence in the unit contradicted and he knew it from the moment you stepped through the doors of their suite in a perfectly pressed skirt suit and a terrifyingly cool expression on your face.

It was like Yanagi spawned a twin of herself, one that’s sole purpose was to work every kink in the system out by force and relieve the paperwork load so effectively that even the dedicated Deputy Chief was able to clock out of work on time. Your critique was swift and harsh, and the execution of your corrections to the administrative side of their work just as damning. Within a week the sound of your heels clicking on the tiles was enough to draw a fear response out of him and Soukaku (though she was spared more of your wrath and gained your affections, further solidifying his theory that you are yanagi’s more evil twin).

You were order. You were dependable. You were the warden of a paper prison that ruled with an iron fist.

And you were totally his type.

He didn’t even realize it in the beginning, after all, you were like a monster from one of his nightmares. Very little slipped past your keen eye, forcing him into the submission of not cutting corners and actually doing his job. You were particularly hard on him, but he had to contribute most of that to the fact that he resisted the change as long as he could before he lived in fear of the snap of a folder of incorrect paperwork back onto his desk and a disapproving glare on your face.

Maybe it was the fact that you were never inherently mean about things too. You were very fair and worked diligently to boost morale, he couldn’t count the times you footed the bill for drinks after a big mission, and you always offered praise for improvements. You had everyone’s coffee order memorized too, everyone coming into the office bright and early to a hot coffee or tea of their preference already on their desks next to a neatly printed agenda customized to their schedules. Oh, and those tight little skirts you wore over your sheer stockings certainly didn’t help him to not like you, but that was neither here nor there.

The first to arrive and the last to leave, your dedication pretty much knew no bounds, and that’s exactly how he ended up in the position he was in now.

He had made it through his night shift by the grace of whatever powers existed in the universe, and promptly crashed on the sectional tucked into the corner of the office, choosing not to expend the energy to walk back to his apartment when he would have to be at the office first thing in the morning for a big meeting anyways. The plan was to wake up early enough to hit one of the locker room showers to freshen up and get himself looking half decent.

The plan died immediately upon him snoozing his first alarm. Then it shriveled a little more with the second snooze. The third snooze was him digging the plan up to kill it again. By the fourth time he was basically dancing on the grave of his plan and digging his own grave while he was at it, because there was no plan conceived that involved you showing up early.

It was muscle memory triggered by the click of your heels as you entered the suite that shocked him out of sleep as he practically rocketed upright with bleary eyes and a sleep muddled brain struggling to catch up with his body’s dramatic response. It was enough that you fully paused in your tracks, coffee cup hovering millimeters from your lips as you eyed him with thinly veiled confusion.

“Good morning, Mr. Harumasa.”

“Good morning, Miss (y/n).” He yawned out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he squinted into the bright office lights.

While you found it humorous to watch the wheels in his brain slowly begin to turn in real time, the brutal hand of time waited for no one and you were nothing if not punctual. Your lips quirked momentarily as you checked the time, eyes darting from your dainty wristwatch back to your dear newly awakened coworker.

Asaba Harumasa’s lack of care for the precision of his work uniform was a hill you had chosen not to die on from the very beginning. You weren’t the dress code police after all, and he wasn’t so dramatically out of regulation that it irked you or anything like that. Most days. But today wasn’t most days, because most days you had a solid hour of silence to prepare for your day, and he would saunter in fashionably late, pass you some lame pickup line, then slink back to his desk where he promptly assumed the look of a kicked puppy until his paperwork was done and he could leave. He had been so methodical about this routine that this disturbance almost took you by surprise.

Almost.

It did bring you a new challenge however. He looked like a total wreck. His hair was matted on one side while the other dramatically cowlicked out in three directions, there were sleep marks on the side of his face from the couch upholstery, his tie was loosely hanging on to one side just pinned enough by his rumpled collar that it hadn’t fully fallen off, his shirt was wrinkled to high heavens and unbuttoned down to his navel revealing a very well sculpted chest, and were those the outline of abs you were seeing—?

You cleared your throat as you averted your eyes, thanking your lucky stars that he was still half clinging to this side of reality. How embarrassing it would have been to be caught practically ogling his body like some degenerate teenager! You are not one to stare, let alone ogle. It was completely uncharacteristic, you were a dedicated administrative assistant after all, you were immune to anything that threatened the routine flow of your workplace.

Right?

Right. Your carefully crafted defenses had not failed you, and it was simply an undiagnosed heart condition that had rendered you breathless every morning for the past three months as you locked yourself in a stall in the women’s bathroom to calm the hot flush that burned your cheeks and the thundering of your heart behind your ribs at the coy tone of his voice as he hammered you with another pick up line before walking away like nothing ever happened.

This was simply a new hurdle to your morning. Nothing more, nothing less, and you had a duty to perform on the behalf of your entire section to ensure the morning went off without a hitch. Definitely no ulterior motives.

You sighed heavily as you set your coffee and bag down on the edge of his desk before propping yourself upon the flat surface, a hand coming down to tap it impatiently.

“You look like a wreck. Come here, Asaba.”

If hearing his surname fall from your pretty painted lips wasn’t a wake up call for his brain enough, the sight of you in all your glory seated upon his desk certainly was. He practically scurried from his spot on the couch to you as if efficiency was going to save him from the wrath of the office warden, electrifying eyes dancing nervously as he attempted to readjust his tie.

“Take it easy on me boss, I had a long night and—,” he never finished his thought as your manicured nails wrapped around his tie, yanking him forward till his hands braced against the desk on either side of you, caging you between him and his own designated workspace.

This close and he could smell the pretty floral undertones of your perfume as he sucked in a shaky breath, eyes blown wide compared to your own ever-cool expression. You met his gaze, stifling the smirk that threatened your lips.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Harumasa? Not feeling chatty this morning?” You pressed, your thighs parting just enough to slot his body between them.

He really hoped there was a merciful god out there somewhere that was orchestrating all of this, cause he was feeling so damn tired but he was ready to die a happy man between your thighs if you’d let him. He swore your skirt had to be a little shorter today ‘cause how else was that lace edge of your stockings peeking out from under the hem of your skirt? If you slid your leg up a little higher he’s sure he’d get a peek of your pretty thigh fat bulging over the edge of the elastic band snuggly bound around your upper thigh.

His fingers twitched as he felt his blood run south at the very thought, catalyzed by the way you leaned in so close, hands running from his chest to his waistband in a sinfully slow manner.

“Oh, don’t tell me no one’s ever…,” your tone was sultry as your breath tickled his ear, your fingers latching around his buckle as you slid your body closer to the edge of the desk, feeling him shudder as he failed to stifle a nervous squeak.

“Helped you get ready?”

He would love to say that he pinned you to his desk and gave you exactly what you were asking for, that he kissed you stupid as he wrestled that damn skirt up just high enough to press aside those lace panties he just knows you love and sink into your pretty cunt and make you beg for him. That your nails left a burning impression down his back that seared his skin as perfectly as the hot kisses that stained the column of his neck every shade of your favorite lipstick. That the office of Section 6 sounded more like a filthy wet dream straight from a porno than a sterile work environment, and that he would never be able to look at his desk without remembering how pretty you looked bent over it crying for him.

There’s a lottttt of things he would love to say. At this point mostly profanities as he blinked stupidly back at you, your hands busy as you neatly fastened his tie all the way up to the base of his throat, his shirt now perfectly tucked and buttoned as well.

You hummed in satisfaction at your work, hands bracing his shoulders as you guided him away from his desk so you could slide gracefully off it yourself, pausing just to smooth your skirt.

“See, isn’t that better?” You said with pride, swiping up your coffee cup as you took a sip, marching to your little desk in the corner as if nothing had ever transpired.

“Now go fix your hair and get ready for the meeting, the others should be arriving soon.” You called over your shoulder, never looking back in fear of your expression cracking at how bewildered he looked.

Oh, he would certainly be fixing something in the bathroom, but his hair was the least of his concerns right now.

Rey 2024, crossposted to ao3

#zenless zone zero #zzz harumasa #harumasa x reader #asaba harumasa #harumasa zzz #zzz x reader #zzz

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aid-alaa-childrens · 2 months ago

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£31,250/£38,000

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le-fruit-de-la-passion · 2 months ago

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Press One for Love, Two for Regret

Chapter 3

Summary: Proper confessions should never happen over the phone. Viktor knows that. So how did he get here?

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 5.3K

Warning: Mature (mentions of explicit content, explicit in last chapter)

Notes: Yup, this started from a silly lil 1K prompt, don't ask me what happened, I wouldn't be able to say either. This chapter is pretty heavy on feelings, self-reflection and angst, but I think y'all will find it enjoyable ❤️. There's one more chapter left (the SMUT yeehawww), but I've written chapter 3 in a way where you could technically stop reading the story here if you didn't want to read the smut, and it would still be a satisfying conclusion. I know most of you are in it for the smut too, so don't worry my beloveds, it will come 😛💕

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 4/End)

The humanities faculty room always smells horrible.

It's hard to tell where the pungent scent even comes from; it feels like it's in the air, in all the furniture, in the walls themselves. There's no window to even attempt to vent it out either; it’s in the oldest wing of the university, built at least sixty years prior to the construction of every other unit. Most teachers avoid it like the plague, preferring to work in any other available space on campus, so it's almost always empty.

But it isn't today.

“Melllll,” you moan, shoving your face into the leather couch’s pillows. The smell is somehow worse, imbued into the fabric. If you had to describe it, you would just call it old. Like rancid coffee forgotten on the kitchen counter for too long, or ancient damp books abandoned in an attic. Old. “Why do I always mess up everything I do?”

Mel looks up from the paper she's grading with a sigh, adjusting the small reading glasses on her nose.

“You don't mess up everything you do,” she argues softly. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you say what you think without feeling ashamed. That's not something for everyone, but it's not a flaw, either.”

You can only groan into the odorous leather as an answer.

Viktor had been your very first friend at work, but he had been a lot more. Without him, you would have never met Jayce, and without Jayce, you would have never met Mel. And you would have no one to cry your woes to on a Friday evening, a whole two weeks after the most disastrous phone call of your life.

“And I believe Viktor is equally at fault here. He knows better than to play hide and seek with you forever,” Mel hums pensively, crossing her legs. Her olive eyes narrow, her nose scrunching up slightly in thought.

“He's stalling, trying to figure a way out without confronting his feelings or yours. He's smart enough to know there isn't one, but he's stubborn,” she points out, tapping her manicured nails on the wooden table. Tic, tic. Like **the sound of seconds passing on the clock, never-ending and all-consuming.

At first, both Jayce Talis, mechanical engineering PhD and researcher, and Mel Medarda, political science PhD with five peer-reviewed books published under her name, had been two extremely imposing people to interact with. You already felt unworthy enough talking to Viktor, but after learning of the kind of people he usually hung out with, you felt like an absolute loser. Jayce and Mel are both unreasonably attractive and accomplished, and when Viktor joins them, there's no denying he belongs to their world, and not yours.

In those moments, the differences between the two of you seem much more glaring: the university professor with a collection of awards and a PhD in biomechanical engineering, who is dedicating his life to creating life-altering prosthetic limbs and transmitting his knowledge to a whole new generation of scientists… and you.

The guidance councillor who can't shut up.

It’s not that you're ashamed of your job; you love what you do. You love being able to help people figure themselves out, and orient them toward what will make them happiest.

But when you stand in the same space as Viktor, it's hard to see anything other than how much greater of a person he is than you will ever be. He's like a star in the sky, shining brighter and brighter every day, and you get the privilege of watching him through the lens of a telescope. That should already be enough for you to be satisfied.

But it isn’t, not anymore. It hasn't been for a long time. And you want to do so much more than look at him. You want to touch him. You want to kiss him. You want to be someone worthy of shining alongside him; but you never believed that would ever happen.

And for so long, it felt so much easier to just date people whose very existence didn't make you feel like you would never be enough to reach their ankle. People who just wanted something casual and meaningless, some sex, maybe the semblance of a romance. And that's how you ended up with a string of disastrous relationships with men you barely even liked.

You contort your body uncomfortably on the couch to face Mel; it squeaks awkwardly under you, like it's threatening to break.

“Did you know? Did everyone but me know?”

She rests her head on her hand, the hint of a smile on her lips, seemingly slightly amused by the question:

“Depends on who you mean by everyone. No one outside his circle of close friends, for sure. He's not the type to scream about his love life over the phone,” she adds with a teasing glim in her eyes. “No offence.”

You groan, shoving your face back into the roughed-up leather. God, it still smells.

“But Jayce did know,” she confirms, and you hear her straighten her chair to return to work. The comforting sound of her fountain pen starts up again, but you know she's still giving her conversation with your full attention. Mel is like that, able to carry on a hundred tasks at once without breaking a sweat; you wish you had an ounce of her composure.

“Viktor told him after he got drunk last year at the faculty cookout. I believe his exact words were…”

She pauses to do a dramatic imitation of Viktor's voice and tone, “‘Jayce, she is wearing that dress just to put me into an early grave’.”

Not only is it pretty accurate, but God, you know exactly what dress.

The skimpy little sunflower dress that you knew showed way too much chest for a work-related event. You had worn it in the hopes of eliciting any sort of reaction from Viktor; but he had barely spoken to you that afternoon, constantly vanishing every time you entered a room. You assumed you made him uncomfortable with something you said, like you always ended up doing with everyone else.

So you had left the party on the arm of some nameless T.A. from the law department, hoping it would help you forget Viktor, just for a while.

It hadn't.

“And I knew,” Mel continues smoothly in her regular voice, “because I know what it's like to want someone to notice you so badly. To want someone to love you back.”

You detect something very personal in the way she pronounces the word ‘love’, almost like it's painful to even say.

Mel rarely talks about herself, preferring to listen to the stories of everyone around her. Everything about her gives an air of mature confidence and independence, and if she ever has any issues in her personal life, she never shares them with you, or anyone that you know of.

She's not cold by any means, and she helps everyone with genuine care, that, you are absolutely certain of. But you can feel there's a side of her she desperately wants to keep to herself. She's only ever mentioned her mother once, in a drunken haze, muttering something under her breath about never being enough for her.

You wonder if that's the person who’s love she’s longing for.

When she speaks again, there is something akin to nostalgia lingering in her voice:

“You get that special look in your eyes. You both looked at each other just like that, but neither of you ever noticed.”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes. Fucking ironic. You can never seem to stop talking, but now, the words you want to tell her just won't come.

Mel doesn't seem to mind, though, and the sound of pen scrapping paper picks up again. You force yourself out of your leather cavern, sitting up on the couch to look at her directly.

“…Why didn't you say anything?” you ultimately settle with, but it rings much more fragile and hurt than you wanted it to.

She gives a small shrug without looking away from her documents:

“Not my place to. Viktor needed to confront his feelings head-on, and you needed to realize you were never not enough or too much for him,” she states matter-of-factly, “It's that simple.”

Everything always seems so easy when it comes from Mel's lips. But in your mind, thoughts are jumbled, emotions are running wild, and everything you thought you knew about the last four years is falling apart.

Maybe, that time on New Year’s Eve when he told you there was no other place he'd rather be, he hadn't meant at the party. He had meant with you.

Maybe, when he had taken your hand, it wasn't just because you were excitedly counting down the last seconds until midnight. It was because he wanted to touch you just as much as you wanted to touch him.

Maybe, at the end of that night and in those early morning hours, when he had said you would make someone really happy one day…he was asking if it could be him.

“Maybe,” you **exhale bitterly, enunciating the world like a curse, “it would actually be simple if he just answered my texts, or my calls. Or anything I do to try and reach him.”

Yeah, you're to blame for being so blind for so long. For noticing the smallest things about everyone else, but missing all the signs when it came to him.

But so is he for refusing to talk about it now that you finally see it.

“At this point, I’m seriously starting to consider lock-picking their apartment,” you grumble, more in tiredness than anger; you can't even manage to stay mad at him for longer than a minute. “He’s the one who showed me how to do that, did I ever tell you that?”

She lets out a soft laugh at that; but when she glances over to you, there's a hint of something new in her eyes.

“I'm sure he would enjoy seeing you put your training to use, but there might be another way to see him. I think he's had more than enough time playing hide and seek.”

You know that glint in her forest-green stare; she knows something you don't, and she’s chosen to reveal it to you. You almost jump off the couch with your eyes wide, so quickly you almost lose your balance:

“Mel, what do I do?”

She snorts as she motions for you to sit back down with a calming wave of her hand, amusement clear on her face.

“Calm down. I wouldn't tell anyone about this normally,” she begins, lowering her voice in secrecy, as if you’re not the only two in the room, “and I want to make it very clear you did not receive this information from me.”

You nod eagerly in agreement, hanging on to her every word.

“Go to their apartment,” she declares with certainty. “If you keep going after their door and to the end of the corridor, there's a big potted plant on the window sill. An orchid.”

You frown in confusion.

You've only been to Viktor and Jayce's apartment a few times in the couple of years you've known them. Usually for relaxed group hangouts, or an occasional game night. You remember very little about it other than the all-consuming childish excitement of being in Viktor’s home, and the absolutely not innocent thought of his bedroom being barely a few feet away.

Why don't you ever remember the important things?

You try to muster every memory you have of the apartment complex itself instead; they live on the third floor, and their door is the second one on the right after the elevator. The hallway is a straight, narrow line, and you've noticed how dark it always is every time you’ve visited.

Dark, yes, that's right, because aside from a cheap light fixture, there’s only one window that lets any light into the hallway, at the very end of the corridor. One window, that is almost entirely blocked by the world's most decrepit potted plant.

“The… really ugly one?” you ask with uncertainty.

Mel snaps her fingers in confirmation, a hint of perfect pearly white teeth shining between her lips.

“I think you may find something of interest under it. Jayce told me about it for whenever I want to…” she hesitates on her next word, uncharacteristically a little bashful, “visit.”

Oh, you fucking knew it.

“I totally-” you start triumphantly.

“Yes, I know, you knew it for months,” she interrupts, waving her hand in dismissal. Her lower lip sticks out slightly, almost like she's pouting. You've never seen her this embarrassed. “It's incredible how you notice everything about everyone else, but when it's about you, you suddenly forget how to use your own eyes.”

Touché.

You've sensed it for at least a year now, the unspoken electricity between the two of them. How her arm sometimes lingers just a second too long on his shoulder, how his hands seem to always accidentally brush her waist. For as subtle as they were being, there was no mistaking the fire when they looked at each other.

Did Viktor ever look at you like that, too?

Why hadn't you ever noticed?

“Wait, wait,” you interrupt your own train of thought. “The orchid. Why is the orchid…”

You pause when the realization hits you like a bucket of cold water.

Oh.

“Do… do they have a set of keys under the orchid?” you ask slowly.

“I didn't say that,” Mel says, bringing her two hands up in self-defence; but the smile lingering on her lips tells another story. “And if you say I did, I will deny it and throw you under the bus with every inch of my power as the advisor for the debate club. Are we clear?”

You could kiss her.

You settle with a tight hug, holding her with as much force as you can muster. The scent of her perfume, bitter and floral, masks the decrepit smell of the room for just a moment. Is there any problem Mel can’t solve?

“Mel, you're the best,” you grin against her ear.

“So I'm told,” she hums. She gently detaches herself from the hug, giving you an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Now go. I don't like seeing you mop around my teacher's lounge, and I can't stand when Viktor performs his little disappearing act instead of talking things out.”

She picks her pen back up, giving you one last genuine look of support, voice soft, sincere: “You two are really meant for each other. Give him hell.”

—

Viktor is much less attentive than people give him credit for.

That’s not to say he’s oblivious or careless. In fact, when it comes to his work, he could instantly notice a tenth of a millimeter discrepancy from a mile away. He could hear the slightest abnormal murmur in the heart of any machine, and pinpoint its exact origin within seconds. Throw a blindfold on top, and he'd still know exactly where to place each and every single component of his prosthetic models.

But when it comes to the world outside his lab, his attention to detail just plummets.

If a bomb went off right outside his apartment, he probably wouldn't even look up from his notes. Jayce usually has to call his name thrice to pull him out of the trance-like state he gets into when he's sketching up a new idea, and that's only because he's used to Jayce's voice; for someone else, he might not hear it at all.

Even walking home from campus, he pays no attention to his surroundings, lost in his thoughts of valves, hydraulic cylinders, and flexion plates. He mechanically follows the same path he's walked thousands of times, a habit so ingrained in him it allows him to fully disconnect and think of nothing but work.

He's glad he has such a strong grip on his own mind, because if he didn't, he would let his practical ideations slowly morph into thoughts of nothing but you. You, who he hasn't seen in two weeks, because he likes to pretend change can't happen if he simply refuses to acknowledge it. It's much better to focus on what he actually has control over, to lose himself entirely in the things that make sense to him. To forget the world burning around him.

And that's exactly why he doesn't realize you’re in his apartment, sitting on his couch about ten feet away from him, until you make a pointed cough to signal your presence.

“Ah,” is the only thing he manages to get out.

He wishes he'd be surprised, but then again, he knew you would find your way to him eventually. He could keep trying to bury himself in work and avoid you with every inch of his power, you would not stop until you got answers to your questions. You’re just as stubborn as he is. That's part of why he fell for you.

So, there's nothing he can do, but let out a defeated sigh.

“I would ask how you got in here,” he starts flatly, taking off his coat robotically to place it on the hanger, ��but I have a feeling it doesn't really matter.”

You don't react to his distant, tired tone, your expressive face unusually devoid of emotion when you speak.

“I didn't use your lockpicking lessons, if you're wondering.”

He can't help but snort at that:

“Disappointing.”

You both stay silent as he slowly takes off his boots and removes his wool scarf. The atmosphere isn't exactly awkward, but it's not comfortable either. Like a cheap, stiff version of the warm intimacy you usually share.

You've always been so easy to read, and anything that didn't show on your face always came from your lips. He always knows how you feel: he's observed every single expression on your face, from the slightest pout to the biggest grin, and committed it to memory with the dedication he only ever puts into his projects.

From the day you literally crashed in his life four years ago, utterly drunk and analyzing him with astonishing accuracy, he's felt the need to analyze you, too. To decipher every part of you, understand each component, each reaction. He craved the idea of knowing you like a cartographer knows the maps of the world, like an astronomer knows the place of every star. To understand you as you had understood him, with a single glance.

Right now, he has no idea what you're thinking.

In typical fashion, you're the one who ultimately breaks the ice first:

“You could kick me out,” you declare, staring him down almost challengingly. “I'll leave if you really want me to.”

There's clear apprehension and hurt in your voice, a bitterness you're trying your best to hide, but failing. He despises being the one to make you feel that way. He's become no better than any of your exes.

“We both know I won't do that,” he exhales. He's still standing in the entryway, just a few steps away from the threshold of the living room. There's no hiding anymore, no backing out. You're here, and he has to face you. Even if it breaks him.

“In the kitchen, second drawer on the left,” he says, making his way inside resignedly. “There's a rather large bread knife inside it. It hasn't been sharpened in a while, but it should do.”

Your passive expression falls for a second and you stare at him in confusion.

“Do for what?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

“Killing me to spare us both the embarrassment of this conversation,” he answers unenthusiastically.

You're the one who snorts, this time. If he could forget why you're here, he could almost pretend this is just a regular talk between close friends. Almost.

You get off the couch without hurry, stretching your limbs lazily; he wonders if you've been waiting for him for a while. You're still in your usual work clothes, but your hair is dishevelled, and your makeup is a bit smudged. Had these been different circumstances, this would be the kind of look he would imagine you in when he's alone in bed, but that's exactly the kind of treacherous impulse that's led him to this situation in the first place.

There's a strange shimmer in your eyes when you look at him again:

“You got any booze in that kitchen ?”

He’s starting to realize no matter how many years you give him, he’ll probably never be able to completely figure out what's going on in that brain of yours.

“You want to drink. Right now,” he states in disbelief.

You shrug:

“Seems like you listened to me when I was drunk last time. Maybe that'll get your attention again.”

There's an undeniable bitterness under the light sarcasm. It's deserved, frankly. And maybe a drink would make what's inevitably coming less difficult.

“First cabinet to the right. You can take the clear unlabeled bottle,” he offers.

You hum in approval, making your way to the kitchen without looking back at him. He makes his way to the couch, sitting at the opposite end of where you had been.

You come back with the bottle in one hand, and two mismatched shot glasses in the other. One is his, a souvenir from an academic conference in Marseilles; the silver lettering simply states ‘Ainsi va la vie’, ‘such is life’. He has to wonder if you chose it on purpose, to taunt him.

Although, the other one is Jayce's, and it's shaped like the torso of a woman with huge breasts in a bikini top with the colours of his old college. So it's equally as likely you just grabbed the first ones you found.

He always overthinks when he's anxious.

You put the three items down on the rectangular table in front of him, before sinking into the couch next to him. Your bodies aren't touching, shoulders an adequate distance from each other, but the proximity is still unnerving. The smell of your perfume, usually so comforting, makes him feel slightly ill.

You pour the alcohol into the shot glasses unhurriedly, progressively filling them both to the brim.

“Did you know Mel and Jayce are together?” you ask, not looking up from your task.

“Unfortunately so,” he mutters sourly.

You pause at that, perplexed.

“No, that is not what I meant, I am very happy for them,” he clarifies quickly. “But their decision to keep it a secret has been rather… precarious for me.”

You slide a glass towards him and give him a smile; the first one of the day, the first one in two weeks.

“You walked in on them fucking, didn't you?”

He groans, and you laugh. God, he missed that sound.

“I have never been more embarrassed in my entire life,” he complains, wrapping his hand around the shot glass. He notices with gratitude it's the plain one and not its heavily endowed sibling. “Being able to run had never seemed more appealing.”

You grab your own glass, the smile on your lips genuine, but fragile. The words still left unsaid hang above you both, and he's forced to remember this is but a moment of respite before everything falls apart.

“Maybe a drink will help you forget,” you joke, holding up the glass in his direction.

How he wishes it would.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he simply answers, bringing his glass to yours until they hit with a light clink. “Cheers.”

Your gaze holds his captive as you speak, like you're reaching into the depths of his very being.

“Na zdravià.”

You throw your head back and down the shot before he has time to voice his surprise, so he does the same, not wanting to break the unspoken rules of the toast; his ancestors would roll in their graves.

The liquid burns his throat almost instantly, the familiar warmth of alcohol settling into his body. It’s strong, powerful, but there’s a recognizable hint of plum and almonds that's comforting to him.

He can’t help a discreet, fond smile as your face scrunches from the sharp taste.

“I-I don't think I've ever had that before,” you cough out, your eyes slightly watery. It's endearing that no matter how much you drink, you never seem to build a tolerance to the sting of strong spirits.

“Slivovice. Plum brandy. The homemade ones are noticeably sharper than what they sell in stores here. Although… perhaps not as legal.”

You let out an amused cough, wiping away any tears before they get the chance to fall, smudging your mascara even more. But you're still smiling at him, decided, bold, never letting yourself be defeated by anything. It's like he's falling for you all over again in that single moment, outside of time and space.

Even in his darkest moments, when all else crumbles, you remain the unwavering light he can always find in the sky.

“I am a little surprised you remembered how to say that,” he admits softly.

What he had meant as a compliment seems to come off as a reproach in your eyes, and the smile falls, ending the magic of the instant.

“It may not always look like it, but I listen to you, Viktor,” you mumble, hurt. “I'm not an idiot, either.”

“I did not mean to imply-” he protests, but the words die in his throat. He opens his mouth by reflex, before closing it again; the sentence lingers incomplete in the air.

“…Why did you hang up?”

Here it is.

“Ah, so we're jumping into the questioning already. Alright,” he sighs. He chooses to stare at the bottom of his empty glass to avoid seeing your reaction. It's pitiful, but it'll spare him some of the pain and embarrassment. “I did not want to listen to what you would say, this once. I was scared if I heard your answer, it would all be real. Unchangeable.”

Change. Viktor had never been scared of the concept before. Change means something new, passing from one state to another, an evolution. It means progress. Nothing could ever be as gratifying, as glorious, as making the changes you want to see in the world.

But he didn't want you to change. He wanted you to stay just as you are, always excitedly talkative and brilliantly observant. Always shinning. A star brighter than any other, that could never fade no matter how the world treated her.

Revealing his feelings for you would have put that in harm’s way. You might think he had never truly been interested in your conversations, in all those ideas and words you feel so self-conscious about, and lose the trust you had in him as a friend.

He couldn't take that risk.

“So… you avoided me for two weeks ?” you scoff in disbelief.

He lets out a short, bitter laugh:

“I would have attempted longer if you did not break into my apartment.”

The poor attempt at a joke doesn't seem to land very well with either of you. The atmosphere feels still and heavy, the strange tension palpable.

“Ok,” you exhale, leaning your head back against the back of the couch. “You can ask me a question now.”

He glances at you in surprise:

“A question? Why?”

“So it's equal. I ask you one, you ask me one,” you explain simply, like it's the most basic rule of conversation in the world. “I haven't been attentive to what you were trying to tell me, for a long time. I need to change that.”

He hesitates for a second. There's a lot he wants to ask you. Had things been different, would you ever have considered him as someone you could fall for? If he could change the timing, the place, the words, would anything have made it so you could have loved him?

“You read people so easily,” he almost whispers. “I always assumed you knew how felt for you, but were too nice to tell me off. That you did not want to break what we had.”

It’s time. It's time for change. There is no other choice than to move forward. He continues:

“I am… sorry that I fell in love with you.”

Ah…

The weight seems slightly lighter on his chest. It's not a good feeling, exactly, but there's a certain peace that comes with finally having said it.

The expression on your face is yet again one he doesn't recognize.

“I'm not. I’m not sorry, Viktor,” you breathe out, hardly any louder than his respiration.

Your hand touches his, just barely, and he flinches, pulling away. But you refuse to back off. You reach for him again, your fingers timidly touching his own.

“Maybe I did know, in a way,” you reflect, a single digit moving across his knuckles, the ghost of a caress, “but I wouldn't let myself believe it. I didn't want to lose the only person I’ve ever felt wanted to listen to me. So… I stopped listening to my instincts, I guess.”

You let out a shaky laugh.

“I talk all the goddamn time and I don't even listen to myself.”

He turns his hand around, letting your index trace the lines of his palm instead.

“A fortune teller who can't read her own cards,” he teases gently. “Ironic.”

You scoff with a smile; your fingers intertwine, tentative.

“You're one to talk, asshole,” you huff playfully, “the big smart professor who can't figure out when someone is in love with him.”

His heart stops beating in his chest.

“Ah. You... you lo-” he stops himself before finishing his sentence, scared of pronouncing the word. He takes a shaky breath before he attempts again: “You feel the same way I…?”

He leaves the question open. He's still hesitant to make it real. Of saying the words that'll shift things. Because damn it, yes, Viktor is scared of change when it comes to you.

“I’m in love with you, Viktor,” you smile, like it's the most natural thing in the world. “Did the part where I broke into your apartment just to talk to you not give that away?”

What a strange feeling. He's dreamed of hearing those words from your mouth for so long, never believing they would, and yet it feels so right. As if you had told him a thousand times before this moment.

Maybe you had, in your own way.

He squeezes your hand, the sensation of your skin against his making it all feel impossibly real.

“I suppose we're both idiots,” he sighs gently, eyes locking into yours. “The blind oracle, and the clueless teacher. What a dynamic duo we make.”

Your forehead meets his, your nose just barely tickling his.

“I'd say we make a good duo. You and me,” you grin. You're so close he can feel the warmth of your breath on his lips. He smiles.

“I'd say so as well.”

Taglist Darlings ❤️ : @soniiyi , @mischievous-piltovan , @just1cefor4ll , @luv-urself-first, @girlidkthinkofsmth , @starflesh-moth , @raynoway, @vyshnevaka , @ash-84321 , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane #viktor x reader smut #arcane smut #viktor x reader fluff #viktor x reader angst #arcane viktor #my writing ✍️#mine #fruitforthoughts 💭#mel medarda #jayce talis #meljay #jaymel #archive of our own #ao3

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aeonstale · 1 month ago

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ㅤㅤFOUND FEELINGS IN THE MIDST OF SNOW .ᐟ

pairings. sunday ♡ gn!reader.

content warnings. mention of world end 𝓼 mention of apocalypse 𝓼 mention of jumping off a window 𝓼 sunday being a loser lmao 𝓼 this has my own idea of sunday so maybe a bit ooc 𝓼 lazy ending.

word count. 1.3k

syn. a love letter for the lovely @pinkxpantha ! who asked for red tulip 𝓼 indelible 𝓼 niveous. read about sunday being a loser and failing at confessing.

Wherever he looked, Sunday has always saw you. When he turned around the corner, he saw you chatting with a co-worker. Late nights visit to the office’s kitchen, he found you with two ready-to-go cup of coffee. Overtime work, local bakery, random coffee shop, flower shop, home goods. Sunday saw you in everything.

Sometimes it would be a flower with a similar scent to yours—or a meaning reminding him of you. Hearing your usual order being served, the little treats you always carry with you being sold out—even a random pot.

All and everything reminded him of you. Sunday was enamoured with you.

The warmth you gave, the smile you offered, leaning to his ear to whisper gossip (said ear still tingles when he thinks back to you.), pecking his cheeks when you got too excited over news.

He was acting pathetic. No sane human would look at a butterfly and think of their crush. Or burst when they hold hands. (how he survived a kiss on the cheek, he still wonders…)

Even his sister noticed his feelings, he thinks you might have as well. The office was aware of them, he wasn’t doing a good job hiding them when he would stare longingly at you with a barely noticeable soft smile.

He incorporated you into his life so much, he started a saving account for the both of you to spend on a new house, on pets stuff—maybe a singing bird or a clingy cat. Sunday find himself regularly thinking of you, imagining a life with you.

Maybe he was getting too far ahead.

So he tried to flirt with you. Thinking it would seduce you and get you to confess. But all he succeeded in doing was making a fool of himself with his lame pick up lines.

(“ Are you the staplers? Because I need you.” “ Do you need a stapler, Sunday? ” “….Yes.”)

It’s gotten to such a low point, a word from you and he’s back in bed envisioning a wedding with you. No matter what cure he looks for, it all point to manning up and confessing.

Sunday can do many thing. He has amazing multi-tasking skills and even more impressive memorizing skills. Yet, confessing seems to be the only flaw he owns. In Sunday’s defence, the universe was against his confession. Many times has he tried but something always seems to interrupt him. He can’t count on all ten of his fingers how many times this has happened.

He first tried to confess in spring.

(“I have something to say.”

“ Oh sure go ahead!”

“ I think I have—” Sneeze.

“ Oh do you have a cold? You should go rest, don’t worry I’ll take care of your share of work!”

“ Ah no what I meant was—” and you were gone. Sigh.)

It was the perfect time, especially since it seen as a sweet and romantic season for love confessions.

But then you were switched to another unit for a whole two months. Sunday tried to see the positive sides—he has more time to prepare now! The initial plan to confess in a neat restaurant upgraded to a picnic with a beautiful view with a necklace as a gift.

Even his stoic co-worker agreed it was a cute moment, there was no way it could fail.

It rained on that day.

(The office has never seen a man look so distasteful towards falling water.)

The date keeps getting pushed further and further away. He was swarmed with work as were you. There was no time to spare for his plans. Inevitably, it slipped his mind.

Autumn came around. And he was more confident this time—this time, he reassure himself. He won’t fail.

Maybe he can no longer do a picnic, but the restaurant idea still stand. Maybe he will ditch the necklace too, after all won’t it be weird to receive a gift so expensive not even on the first date? So maybe no necklace.

Sunday scavenge the web for any event planned this season. But as luck would have it they were either held in spring or were pushed to next year. He can’t wait a whole year to confess! What if you get a partner before he can confess? What if you hate him by then? What if everything goes wrong and the world ends without having the chance to confess?! What kind of confession is it in the midst of the apocalypse?

…Or maybe it would be rather romantic? ‘Even if we were to die, I’m happy to die besides you!’ Type of confession? When looked at logically, it’s sweet and heart-touching. Sunday has seen many book with a similar style, many reviews praised the male lead for the touching confession surely it passes with you right?

Sunday could no longer contains himself. He searched high and above all about world-end confession. Developing an obsession with a far-stretched scenario.

Having spend so much time brainstorming, autumn passed by and winter started moving in. The first bit of snow falling and painting the city white.

Everyone was joyful with the new seasons. They weren’t as busy as before, giving them more time to complete their works without a pending deadline haunting their dreams.

Yet, Sunday looks like he came straight out of an apocalyptic world. Despite being one of the many who stopped working overtime(surprisingly), he looked similar to a corpse than a living person.

You noticed.

You actually noticed his distress since it first started to grow back in spring. His weird speech, the lame pick up lines or even his search history on the apocalypse (which you caught a glimpse of.). You tried to reach out and ask, but with his and your work increasing by the minute—you hadn’t have the chance.

In autumn you had caught a cold and couldn’t really care for another’s being other than your own. What was weird was how after you got better, Sunday seemed to have gotten worse than you. And that was saying a lot seeing as many colleague commented on how you looked as though you fought death to come back. Literally.

‘At least we looked alike..’ you bittersweetly thought.

But as winter came by, there was no urgent work to be finished or event to be organised. You could finally reach out to Sunday.

Which lead you to the present. Most have gone to their lunch break—leaving only you, Sunday and a stoic colleague. You have been repeatedly calling out to the Silver haired. It came to a point where you snapped your fingers near his ears, yet no reaction.

Was he sleeping awake? You tried shaking—which only after three shakes has he snapped.

‘I Have romantic feeling for you!’ he suddenly shouted.

Woah.

‘Damn.’ the stoic colleague commented, before turning back to their work.

What should you do? You do reciprocate his feelings, but was that it? No big show or nothing. The whole situation felt comedic.

And as you watched the words register in Sunday’s face, did you finally laugh. Your face turning redder than the colour. You couldn’t contain it anymore, even more so when his face morphed into horror.

‘I’m sorry! Its just—’ another laughing fit.

‘It’s okay. I will throw myself out of the window.’

‘Wait no come back!’ you held him back, the laughter subduing to breathless chuckles. Face still red, you interlaced your fingers with his.

‘I have romantic feelings for you too!. It’s just the whole situation caught me off guard. I honestly expected you to plan a whole ceremony to confess. Sorry, I was actually worried about you since spring because you didn’t look well and you didn’t improve. So I wanted to ask you but then you outright confessed. Was it what was bothering you? Am I rambling?’

You took a breath, the warmth in your face becoming more uncomfortable the more words slips past your lips. Gosh, rambling right after a confession?! Who does that.

Meanwhile, Sunday has become frozen. Wait was he breathing? Ah he collapsed.

‘He collapsed?! Sunday! Are you alright?’

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yallthemwitches · 7 months ago

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My fic Masterlist

In love with 70s wizard love.

Catch the Wind--Hating him was easy, a feeling as natural as time marching forward. But something had changed with James Potter and Lily couldn’t ignore it so easily anymore. He was becoming, Merlin forbid, attractive. Explicit, Canon Compliant ,Multi-chapter

A Matter of Fairness: James' Quidditch match is derailed by a very distracting Head Girl NSFW, Mature, Oneshot

Slipping Away:Snape didn't think his life could get much worse---until Lily was falling in love with James Potter right before his eyes. A compilation of 3 particular moments between 6th and 7th year. Oneshot, Mature for one scene, canon compliant

Legitimens: Perhaps the real James was doing it on purpose--using memories of Lily to either drive him insane or to push away the real secrets that hid beyond. If it was true, he was succeeding on all accounts.

During a duel, Snape attempts Legilimency on James. Canon compliant. Oneshot, Mature

Bad Moon Rising:James comes back from a Full Moon outing with the marauders to find someone in his bed. Explicit, Canon Compliant Oneshot, smut

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner: Vernon thought a dinner at the Evans' house would be perfectly normal like all the other times--unfortunately for him, Petunia's sister is home and she has company. Vernons POV, T, Canon Compliant oneshot

Simple Math: Remus notices something is off about James and Lily at the Prefect's meeting. Teen ( some suggestive content), Canon Compliant, Written for Jily Week 2024, Prompt: Hair

United Front:Lily and James have the best intentions when showing up to Petunia's engagement party. Teen, Canon Compliant, Written for Jily Week 2024: Prompt: Teamwork

Force Majeure: It’s tempting. He could say yes. Climb those steps and sit on her bed next to her. It was entirely possible to stay friends in that scenario. To do simply as she said: listen to a record as friends because that’s what friends do.Teen, Canon Compliant, Written for Jily Week 2024, Prompt: In Vino Veritas

Those Who Wallow: Against better judgement, Lily uses her invisibility cloak to spy on James. Teen, AU Role Reversal (sort of) Written for Jily Week 2024, Day 3: Role Reversal

The Sound of Silence: Minerva always had a soft spot for Potter. Maybe that's why when it was time to choose a Head Boy alongside Lily Evans, he was was clearly the only option--- A series of vignettes of James and Lily's seventh year through McGonagall's POV. Teen, Canon Compliant, Written for Jily Week 2024, Day 5: Matchmaker

Not a Bang, But a Whimper: During their sixth year, Severus Snape goes out after curfew to give information to Lily that he thinks will bring them back together. Unfortunately, he finds her already with someone else. Teen, Canon Compliant. A companion piece to my other oneshot "Slipping Away" for Jily Week 2024, Day 7: Continuation Station

Playing Dirty: When Lily won against Potter during dueling practice, Snape couldn't think of a better way to finally rekindle their friendship. But Potter was a sore loser and Lily seemed far too willing to entertain him. E, Canon Compliant, Oneshot in Snapes POV

The Seat with the Clearest View: Lily and the marauders were his constant, like two separate stars orbiting his universe. But year after year stars get older. Their orbits start to move closer. It is only a matter of time before they collide. Three part series of Jily through the years. Remus POV. Rated T

Crash Into Me: A collection of unrelated, prompt based fics and ficlets for Jily Kinktober 2024. E, various situations but generally plotless smut, Canon Compliant

Until the Light Takes Us: A collection of unrelated, prompt based fics and ficlets for Jilytober Fest 2024. G-T depending on fic. Canon Compliant

The Storm, The Aftermath: Due to a snowstorm, Lily spends the night at the Potters. The continuation of my Jilytober fic 'The Storm.' E (Though part one is rated T), Canon Compliant. Smut

Whispers in the Dark: When Lily is awarded her prefect badge in fifth year, they warn her that James Potter has a talent for disappearing... but if that's true, why does he keep coming to her night after night, hoping to be caught? Rated T, Canon Compliant

A Hundred Visions and Revisions: “I know it’s silly—but can you tell me the future? The way you see it,” she whispers, curling into him so the top of her head can rest right under his chin, book falling abandoned onto the floor. She knows he’s no divination master–she’s seen his grades to prove it—but they both know that’s not what she's asking. Rated T, Canon Compliant

Getting Better: “Do you do this for all your sick mates?” She asks, breaking the silence with a wry smile.He chuckles, hand still sliding against her cheek. “Only the ones who deserve it—only the ones I’m especially fond of.” Rated T, Canon Compliant

At Least I'm Gonna Say That I Tried: The only thing more mortifying about kissing the girl you fancy and not being able to reciprocate properly is having to stand in front of a bloody crowd after said kiss and not look like you are about to fucking implode. Rated T, Canon Compliant, jily Xmas fluff

#my fics #marauders fanfiction #hp fanfiction #jily fanfiction #lily evans #james potter #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders #sirius black #jily #hp #jily fic #masterlist #my works

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girlsneedff · 6 months ago

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NSFW- Minors and Ageless blogs please dni

Nepo-baby!Gojo x f!Reader, Gojo’s a loser/desperate, Modern AU, Masturbation (Gojo), slight public masturbation (tbh it’s just Satoru being down bad)

Word count: 4.5k

Author’s yap: Ok ok ok so- I started this when the lack of AC in my dorm was frying my brain, and it gave me an idea. Now I’m freezing my ass off and fantasizing about the heat. This isn’t too smutty, but if I’m still into this, I might expand… Enjoy pooks <3

Dive In!

It’s hot as shit outside, and you know what that means: the college rec center pool’s gonna be packed.

Every god-forsaken year, the Earth teeters a bit too close to the Sun just around the time that students are moving those obnoxious highlighter-colored carts up and down the streets carrying their belongings. Everyone’s wiping their foreheads, a content sigh when they step into the lobby of the dorm building. This doesn’t last too long, unfortunately. Because as soon as you step onto a resident floor, let alone an actual dorm room, it’s like Satan pulled apart his ass cheeks and sandwiched you right in between ‘em.

Hot as shit and there’s no AC, so for the very unlucky majority who didn’t bring a fan (as instructed by housing, who don’t live under these conditions, mind you), they’re stuck sizzling in their dorms, hopelessly opening their dusty windows for wishing for any semblance of a draft to come in.

It’s miserable. But luckily, there’s a solution! And no, it’s not fighting someone’s mom for the last desk fan in Target.

It’s the university’s recreational pool! Open to all students, it’s like a gift from Heaven (or a college alumni). Everyone, and I mean everyone, is there.

It’s like a big pool party (albeit indoors)- everyone’s got some sort of appendage in the water, trying to cool off. A few girls have their towels set up on the side, lying on their stomach as they scroll on their phone or read a book. A couple of people brought a beach ball- tossing it around. You're sitting on the side chatting with your roommate, Shoko, kicking your feet into the water, as she leans on the rim of the pool, hair up in a clip.

“I don’t get why they haven’t installed any AC units- or even central air.”

“If they even think about renovating, G. Hall will literally fall into smithereens.”

Shoko jokes, resting her chin in her hand as she looks up at you, tiredly.

“As if the Gojo clan wouldn’t be able to donate more money for a renovation. That’s pocket money for them.” You yawn, drained too. The heat is tiring. Especially after the two of you just finished setting up your dorm together for the third year in a row- this time, without your parents to help y’all. Y’all were burning up, and you needed to cool down- real bad.

You do a scan of the pool. Some familiar faces, others not so much. The school’s big as shit, and you keep to yourself and your group- you don’t need to know everybody. Yuki’s in the water with her boyfriend, playing chicken with some other people. She’s got a death grip on his pigtails, almost as if she’s steering him around, smothering his face between her thighs. A guy named Kento- your study partner from last year- is over by the stairs to the pool- wanting to be in it, but not completely submerged. He seems to be enjoying his time by himself. Ino and his boys are the ones hitting around the beach ball, splashing around in the extremely crowded pool.

“Look at all of our sorry asses…” You mutter, sighing as you sip on a drink you brought.

“When I didn’t want summer to end, I wasn’t talkin about the heat. But whatever. 2 more weeks being in the 8th circle of hell, and it’s back to our regularly scheduled progra- oh my-” Shoko stops mid sentence, her eyes glued to something as she hits your thigh profusely.

“What- what? Yaga in a jock strap?” You finally turn and see him (Shoko side eyes you- why would you want to look at Yaga in a jock strap). The man, The myth. The… nuisance.

“I thought he was too good to come here and hang with the common folk.”

“Maybe he wanted to cosplay as a broke college student like the rest of us for a day.”

Satoru Gojo- ultimate legacy, trust fund baby, nepo spawn, and just all-around spoiled brat. And he’s proud of it. Wearing blue Versace swim shorts and his sunglasses indoors, which only works for him with his scary ass eyes, he saunters into the place, expressing unbelievable childlike wonder at the sight of the pool.

“So this is what a public pool is like!”

“You don’t have to sound pretentious.” Suguru quips, walking in front of his best friend to scan the area. It’s crowded as a bitch in this place.

“I’m just- amazed, that's all. And you come here by yourself?”

“No. With other friends. Because I’m likable.”

Satoru frowns at that, shifting his beach chair under his arm uncomfortably.

“And it’s not like you’d come.” This was true. Under normal circumstances, Satoru wouldn’t step foot in this place. The water wouldn’t be good for his skin. But, when his pool’s getting renovated, he figures that he has no choice. He thought that there would be 5, maybe 10 people there. Well, he now knows he was wrong; almost all of JJU: Tokyo is here. And he’s now also made aware of the fact that most students don’t have AC.

He follows behind Suguru as he leads them through the crowd of bodies, the heat radiating from them all damn near breaking Satoru out into a sweat.

“Here- and lean that chair up against the wall or something. It’ll take up too much space.” Suguru says, as he hunkers down on the floor, scooting up to the clearing at the rim of the pool. He smooths the back of his hair up, readjusting his ponytail, sighing when his legs hit the water.

Yea… Satoru’s not doin that. He brought this chair, and he’s gonna use it, spatial awareness be damned. Ignoring all of the dirty looks he gets from people, he sets his chair right next to his friend (who is pretending not to know him) and sits, reclining with a dramatic sigh that only Satoru could argue was authentic. He crosses his legs and puts his hands woven behind his head, looking up and basking… in the industrial light.

“You can’t tan under this IKEA lighting.” Suguru says, not even bothering to look in Satoru’s direction.

“Yea- well, what do you propose that I do?” Satoru can feel himself getting slightly irritated with this public pool shit.

“Get in the water. That’s what we came here for, right.”

Satoru clumsily folds up his chair, not even bothering to go lean it against the wall in fear that he’d lose his sliver of access to the water (he doubts that Suguru would save it for him right now to be honest). Slowly but surely, he eases himself down into the water, holding his breath. He can already feel that he’s goin to need several bubble baths (extra bubbles) after this. He even closes his eyes, wading in the water and trying to get comfortable.

And then Satoru jumps into something. With a slight jolt, he looks over his shoulder and he’s gobsmacked seeing you look back at him, glasses threatening to fall off his dripping face.

He quickly gathers himself, pushing his glasses up then running his hand through his hair. And then he subtly recoils, realizing he just let that filthy shit in his scalp.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Shoko’s got a shit-eating grin on her face, as you look at this man, somewhat horrified. Never did you think that you would ever meet this man face to face, but here he is- back to leg. And he’s hot- I mean, not in the physical way (well, you don’t think he’s bad looking but-) he’s quite literally hot to the touch. It’s abnormal- his body temperature’s like magma.

“Sorry.” He gives you a faint smile, the right dimple he has showing slightly.

“No worries.”

There’s a period of silence, and you take this opportunity to try and turn back to your friend, but he pipes up.

“I’m Satoru, by the way. What’s your name?”

You turn to look at him, gears turning in your head as your decide whether or not you want to give him a fake name or-

Yuki calls your name from the center of the pool and you almost curse at the timing.

“Wanna hop in this round?” She calls, Choso’s hands on her thighs to steady her while her hands are cupped around her mouth, calling out to you. Choso brings them closer.

“No, I’m ok. I don’t have a partner-”

“I’ll be your partner.” Satoru practically has stars in his eyes. "If... you want me to be, though. I'm a stranger, so- so stranger danger…”

Oh brother, he’s rich and a fuckin loser.

"So you wanna play, rich boy?" Yuki asks him, completely neglecting the shudder that both you and Satoru do in response to his whack ass comment. Shit, even Choso winces in response, trying to regulate his usually very expressive face just in case Satoru sees, tells his clan, and Choso’s scholarship ends up revoked.

Satoru manages to stammer out a yes, though followed by him saying he understands if he wasn't invited to play.

"This is not kindergarten- you can play with the big kids." She jokes, hopping off her boyfriend's shoulders and into the water.

"I'll be your partner for this round, if that helps. I’m good at it, don’t worry." You're absolutely elated that Yuki offered herself- you're not sure if you would have been able to team up with Satoru. You and Choso are cool, exchanging a grin as you hop off of the ledge of the pool, plowing through the water over to him.

"Ok...."

"..."

"How do you play chicken?"

Good grief.

“I’ll teach you, then.” Yuki wades over to Satoru, and his lips contort into a nervous grin. He just prays that he doesn’t embarrass himself (anymore than he already has) in front of you.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Satoru ain't shit at playing chicken.

“I’m best friends with a bubble boy…” Suguru mutters under his breath, running his hand painstakingly over his face as he watches Satoru look like a cat in water.

Any splash to his face, and he's completely selling, allowing Yuki to fall off (much to her dismay) or giving you and Choso enough time to make y'all's way over to them to attack. It was to the point that your body was completely dry, save for your feet. Slowly but surely though (after like, 5 rounds), he begins to get the hang of it, getting over his disdain for this rancid water touching his face and accepting the fact that he'll have to do several deep cleanings of his pores when he gets home.

He's actually starting to have fun- settling more into the atmosphere and letting his competitiveness show. And you're not minding it. You were dreading having to interact with him at first, let alone play a game with him because you thought that he would be a dick, but you were wrong. Well, not exactly wrong- but he was less dicky than you thought.

“Ok- time to switch for the next round!” Yuki says with a smile (which looks slightly elated, in your opinion) as she hops off of Satoru’s shoulders.

“Hm? We don’t stay with the same partners every round?” Satoru asks- something you were also thinking. For once you too seem to be on the same page about this game.

“No! We switch every round.” What a goddamn liar. She’s just tired of losing because the pretty princess is scared of getting his face wet.

This means that you’re stuck with the pretty princess. Fuck.

You slowly climb down Choso, who is simultaneously welcoming his girlfriend with open arms. Satoru’s mind is moving a mile a minute with every little ripple of water to inadvertently send in his direction.

You make your way over to the ledge of the pool, hoisting yourself up, and by Heaven- Satoru can see your ass jiggle out of his peripheral and he almost seizes. You turn around, and sit on the ledge, just looking at him. And he swears he’s getting closer to going into cardiac arrest with every second of him being the center of your attention.

“Come here-” You beckon, motioning for him with your hand. He nods helplessly, trying not to look too desperate with how fast he’s moving to you.

“Now I’m not as good as Yuki, so if we lose, it’s not entirely on you this time.” You smile, scooting up, placing your legs over his shoulders. Good lord does this man smell… expensive. It’s good. I’m not talking played out Dior Savauge, I’m talking Hermès, Dolce and Gabbana. You’re a sucker for a good smelling man. Even if this one is quite literally the most dramatic man on Earth.

“I’m not good at all, so anything you do I’ll watch with awe.” He places his hands on your thighs- jeez, his hands are big.

You laugh, thinking he’s joking. He’s not.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You shift nervously on Satoru's shoulders, while Satoru is quite literally in Heaven- though, he would prefer it if his face were the other way. He has never been this close to a woman outside of his family, so this entire interaction was rocking his small little world. He's keeping his hands on your thighs while his mind is completely mush, his ears are flushed. It’s like as soon as you got on his shoulders, his ability to comprehend anything said to him was decimated.

“Satoru- Satoru!”

You call to him as Choso and Yuki splash towards you, Yuki’s face wearing a huge smile now that she’s got the upper hand. You call him again, and all this bumbling buffoon can manage to say to you is “Uh-huh, u-uh-huh.”

(Shoko runs to the bathroom, almost peeing herself from laughing too hard.)

Fuck it- thinking quick, you grab a hold of his hair, trying to Remi-Ratatouille him around. And surprisingly- it works!

Left you go!

Right- to the riiiighhhhhhhhttttt-

Satoru has no fuckin idea what’s going on right now. He’s just happy to be here, a grinning mess while you pull him around the pool, narrowly avoiding Yuki, who’s maniacal laughter trails behind the two of you.

It’s like riding a horse the way he thoughtlessly follows your pull.

“Satoru- are you ok?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at your opponents. You’re hoping that your teammate will stop being so useless, gain back consciousness, and help you the fuck out.

Getting desperate, you palm the side of his face, shaking it. Suddenly, he stops moving, and it’s like his breath is caught in his throat- a sound was caught in it? You don’t know what happened, because the next thing you knew, Yuki and Choso came crashing into you, causing you and Satoru to fly into the water.

Gasping for air, you paddle in the water, eyes burning profusely. Satoru comes up soon after this, and you glare at him.

His cheeks are flushed, as he lets out deep, heavy breaths. “Sorry..” Is all he could seem to muster out, giving you a nervous grin.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Satoru’s starting to get the hang of it. Ok maybe not really- but he’s more active at least. You appreciate that, as well as the banter he’s contributing. His socially inept demeanor is slowly dissolving, and he’s flinching less and less at the water.

You’re actually having a lot of fun with him.

“You guys can’t keep running forever!” Yuki yells, getting kind of frustrated from how the two of you keep slipping out of her grasp.

“Oh really? watch us.” Satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs as he splashes around to put more distance between y’all, causing you to squeal.

“Satoru if I fall- go slow!” You say in between laughing fits.

“Just hold on, and you won’t!”

Maybe you too had a fighting chance with this. Actually- you think you might win at least a round or two.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You two lost. Miserably. Yuki’s a fucking beast, and Choso’s the definition of an immovable force. You guys could only get away from them for so long- let’s not forget the pool’s crowded as shit. Y’all didn’t stand a chance. But hey- Satoru’s not too bad. Maybe he was just having a rough time adjusting to talking to people who don’t have a networth of $1 million+. But it was fun, you can not lie.

Satoru’s laugh is airy while he allows you to get off of his shoulders, listening to you teasing him for his performance. You shuffle yourself back onto the ledge of the pool next to Shoko, who seems to be in deep conversation with Suguru.

“I never thought that someone could be that bad at Chicken.”

“Hey- I prefaced this entire thing with the fact that I didn’t know how to play.” He laughs again- he’s so giggly right now, removing himself from between your legs and going to the area next to you, places his head in his hand while he looks up at you.

“Yea, but that bad?”

“Mention it again and I’ll have a meeting with Financial Aid about you.”

The both of you crack up.

…He’s kind of pretty- somewhere in the game he pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair, wet strands of white sticking to his forehead.The sight of his smile warms you up a bit inside. When he’s down here with the common people, he’s a pretty cool person to be around.

“I can see why you don’t come here often, then.” You say, tiling your head towards him.

“Ah, well, I usually just go to my par-” Satoru’s voice dies off. How about he doesn’t talk about his privilege for a bit. Cosplay a normal college student for a little- at least with you. He wants to relate to you- to get to know you on all levels- as much as humanly possible.

“I… just didn’t see a purpose for it before. But this was fun.”

“A sign for you to come more often, then.”

“Will you be here?”

You smirk. “Why, so you can get our asses whooped in a game again?”

He grins, right dimple once again making an appearance.

“Just asking- the poop- pool- pool. Fuck. The pool’s nice.” He sighs- covering his face in embarrassment, cheeks swelled up with blood.

“Sorry. Waterlog.”

You burst out laughing- his slip up and awkward responses are starting to grow on you. It’s cute.

“Well I’m sure that you have AC, so you don’t have to worry too much about being hot and sticky in a room.”

“Mmmwell,” He takes a breath, “I wouldn’t mind being hot and sticky with- hm.”

He pauses, letting his embarrassment settle in. “I’ll stop trying to talk now.”

This gets another giggle from you. “You could just say that it would be nice to see me again.” You adjust your bikini bottoms (haha) up on your hips, and then place your hand to your side to lean closer to him.

“It would be, yes.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be too bad to see you, either.”

“Satoru. We gotta go-” Suguru stands up from the ledge with a stretch. “We needa go grab groceries for the apartment.”

Satoru groans. He swiftly hoists himself up out of the water effortlessly (he hopes that you were watching, thanking the lord that he constantly worked out at the apartment gym) and quickly grabs his chair, holding it in front of himself.

“I’ll see you- and the pool again.”

“Mhm.” You wave him bye while he trails behind Suguru out of the pool room.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

He came in the pool.

He. Fucking. Came.

Sperm swimming in the chlorine.

He doesn't even know how it happened. With every tug of his white tufts, his dick throbbed and twitched, rubbing against the fabric of his swim shorts in a way that was driving him mad. He was already fighting for his life with having your pussy pressed up against the back of his neck. And the way that you called his name- Oo, it was dizzying for him.

Next thing he knew, your hand was on his face, and he was biting the shit out of his tongue trying not to moan, knees buckling while he shoots into the water.

And you smiled at him!

He practically talked Suguru’s ear off (nothing new) in the car about it while on the drive back to their apartment. Besides the cumming in his pants part- nah, he’s taking that to the grave. He was just so giddy about the day. His first flirtatious interaction with the opposite sex! How exciting!

“Yea yea I get it she’s so pretty, you get hard thinking about her, and you come in your pants just thinkin about her. Can we get out of fantasyland and go into Trader Joe’s now?”

Suguru rolls his eyes, looking out the passenger seat window, his arm hanging out. Satoru flushes.

“Why would anybody cum in the pool?”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

But yes, where was he? Oh yea, his hand’s fisting his cock.

He doesn’t know how his hand ended up there.

Oh, he was so pathetic today. He couldn’t even speak normally to you, let alone touch you without short-circuiting. And the way you looked at him. Like he was an absolute idiot- he’s never had anyone look at him like that before… except Suguru but it’s not the same. In a weird way, it turns him on. At least he redeemed himself slightly in the end, while he was subtly rubbing himself against the pool walls, the small dips in the tiling making the friction so much more enjoyable.

What a fucking loser, getting off to the sound of your voice- and in a public place? Your pretty little laugh did wonders to him. And to be under your gaze with such scrutiny- ohmygod he was so happy he brought that chair, using it to cover his hard-on as he smiled at you like an idiot, following behind his best friend like a preschooler going back inside after recess.

He loved seeing how you adjusted your bathing-suit, nipples becoming erect as soon as you got out of the pool. The way that your pussy was a flimsy cloth away from coming into real contact with him- he is swimming in his thoughts right now.

And you smelt so good- it’s definitely nothing he’s ever smelt before (because he’s been close to any woman that’s had a scent worth below $200). The smell is just so- you (he plans on driving to every single fragrance store to pinpoint said scent so he can spray it on his pillow to smell while he plays with himself).

There’s nothing he wouldn’t give to have you splayed out on his bed with his head between your thighs, eating you out until you’re frantically calling for him, a tight grip on his hair the way that only you can do. Fucking his hand while you moan, for him- he’d go bankrupt to hear it. He would make you feel good- he knows it- he’ll make it his life’s mission. The little stutters and quivers you’d make when you would get close, pleading for him to make you cum. And don’t even get him started on how he would feel when his cock sinks into you. He’s confident that he wouldn’t last any longer within five minutes. As soon as he pushes past the rim, he’d be shooting ropes. So he’d have to eat you out first to save the little slivers of his dignity that he has left.

He wonders- would you think he was big? Would you struggle taking him? Fuck, seeing you whine and moan, begging him with cute little “slow down”s and whimpering about how good he’s stretching your cunt.

He’s so stuck up in the way that your hands entangled themselves into his hair- fuck- he lets out a helpless whine as he continues his fuck sesh, moving his hand upupup, the ring of precum chasing his hand with each stroke. You used his body with little regard to how he would feel- not like he cared. You could use him however the hell you’d like. Fuck, his dick was aching with each tug.

And you got in that water.

He’s filthy- just so- so depraved for the way that that makes him harder, causing him to stroke himself faster. You were practically bathing in his cum, albeit unknowingly. How fucking nasty is that? He pictures you accidentally swallowing it- what would it be like watching you actually take it? Would you replicate your teary, chlorine-stung eyes while you were on your knees for him, throat fucked-out, tongue lolled, and waiting for his cum?

With that, he’s seeing stars, shooting comets onto his satin sheets, utterances of “Oh fuck”s and “I’m cumming”s, and finally, with a sigh, says your name while his lower torso twitches from the sensitivity, accompanied with the cool breeze his fan is blowing onto his handless cock.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“The amount of emails we’ve been getting about the heat is starting to get a bit concerning, I must admit.” One of the chairs of the university says, mouth full of food.

All of the important figure heads of the college are sitting at the Gojo family’s long dinner table, conversing like the old buddies they are. It’s a usual thing for them to do, where they chat about stupid, unimportant uppity-rich people things, like school funding or whatever.

“What do you think we should do about this?” The housing chair directs this question to Satoru’s father, who opens his mouth before his son interrupts quickly, voice booming in the confident air that he learned to develop with people in (or slightly below- not too far below) his tax bracket.

“My friend’s in the dorms say that the dorms are pretty cool- It’s cold in there, even.” Satoru says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders while he pushes his wagyu around on his plate.

What a fuckin liar, but it’s the cross he’s willing to bare in order to see you again. Bikini covering the parts that make his mouth water, fanning yourself from the heat- hot and bothered, just like him. It’ll be worth the possible pimples he’ll get.

With this, the big-wigs frame their decision around this.

“Oh, really? It’s already so cold…”

“it would also mean that we would have to expand the budget.”

“The students should be fine without AC. If anything, the pool is open.”

Satoru looks down, smiling to himself.

If the students of Jujutsu University: Tokyo knew that the only reason they’re not getting AC units is because Satoru Gojo, all-around nepo-baby, spoiled brat, and pussy-whipped loser wants to have a chance to see the girl he fucks himself to at the pool again, they’d barbeque and skewer him alive.

#jjk #gojo x black reader #gojo satoru #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk satoru #i love losers

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alanaartdream · 6 months ago

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Ok just a hot take I’ve just realised I’ve got with fairly odd parents Jimmy Neutorn and nicktoons Unite games

I mean I’ve noticed something (it might just be me or maybe I’m reading into this too much) but

It seems to Me that Jimmy was a better influence and friend than AJ & Chester ever were to Timmy

In one of Jimmy Timmy power hour episodes Jimmy got to experience Timmy’s life and he downright thought it was awful he is pretty smart he got a clue something wasn’t right with Timmy’s home life in Timmy’s universe and he didn’t play it off as Timmy’s has it great like when Timmy’s own Mother swapped places with Timmy

That one episode in fairly odd parents and she made EVERYONE dance (I hated how that episode was handled because she got off too easily and didn’t even get to see what a horrible person she herself can be at times)

Now back to Jimmy he got to experience a little what Timmy’s parents are like to him and even what Cocker was like and Acknowledge Timmy has it pretty hard and needed Cosmo & Wanda in his life; he didn’t fully understand everything though but he acknowledged something was amiss with Timmy’s homework and didn’t brush it off

Also in anther jimmy Timmy power hour episode the next time Timmy comes to Jimmy’s universe it’s because AJ & Chester totally bushed Timmy off ( now granted Chester was helping his dad out with making a new toilet so you can forgive him but AJ? That crazy kid wanted to put himself to deep sleep to wake up to the future leaving his family & friends behind like it was nothing & it didn’t matter how much his family or friends would miss him) THEN the both of them act outraged over Timmy Hanging out with Jimmy when THEY ignored him 1st at the very least they should be saying sorry as well and not leaving it to just Timmy to say sorry; Jimmy acknowledges he messed up as well but AJ & Chester didn’t witch kinda rubs me the wrong way with how those 2 didn’t acknowledge they were at fault too

Although I Love how in that episode before they started to hang out with each other Jimmy was shocked Timmy wanted to be friends with him and hang out with him after all that went down between them with Cindy and the 1st time they interacted with each other’s universes but Timmy is just yeah it’ll be interesting to hang out and be friends

Now Jimmy’s a smart kid who’s been labeled the nerd loser in his own universe even though he’s super smart & Cindy who’s made jealous she’s not the smartest kid in class anymore because Jimmy is gives him

A hard time & makes fun of him (witch is probably why he thinks girls are not great at science at the time because Cindy always trying to prove she’s better at everything science/ school than Jimmy; I mean honestly they could’ve been friends if she didn’t pick on him so much like she could’ve convinced Jimmy that girls are great at science in a much more friendly manner but she chooses to do it in a bullying kinda way ( she lets her jealousy win and mocks Jimmy a lot and try’s to one up Jimmy all the time; it’s no wonder he thinks girls are awful science) like of course Jimmy’s no better about it and finds ways to anger her as well; I just hope when both of them grow up a little that they realise fighting each other is pointless and better off to work with each other in the future; like in some of Jimmy neutron show he did list in episode that women scientists are great and mention one who’s studies about radiation help change the world so it’s not like he thinks all girls are bad it’s just that one of his bullies HAPPENS to be a girl who’s always trying to one up him all the time like

When I was in primary I had some awful school bullies who were boys pick on me a lot because I was a girl who would cry and like to carry about soft toy animals & teachers would say oh boys just do that to girls they like would kid me realise they just liked to see me upset so at that age I was thinking a lot of boys sucked until met my older cousins who were nice & fun that no not all boys suck it was just bullies at school who sucked so I can totally see WHY Jimmy was thinking girls were awful being as one of his bullies was a girl and her friend (I mean Cindy was pretty mean to Jimmy out of her own jealousy; I mean she herself is a kid probably trying to prove to everyone she’s smart but when you’re in a class with kid who’s smarter than everyone including you who can invent all sorts of things that’s something no normal kid can invent & then goes on about how science isn’t for girls? Yeah I can see why she’s not always nice to Jimmy but yeah both of them need to learn to stop fighting with each other; Cindy needs to let her jealousy go it’s what’s stopping her from getting along better with Jimmy and Jimmy REALLY needs to stop saying girls are not cut out to be smart BUT that’s with them

I feel like when they go to high school they’ll both grow up a little and realise they were both pretty immature with each other Jimmy will admit he wasn’t being fair saying girls can’t be smart and Cindy needs to let her jealousy go and admit being jealous of not being the smartest in classroom/school was/ is a bit silly and

Immature over fighting with each other and would probably much a great study partners ( they’ll probably still fight just not as but as when they were kids & would probably be good friend who fights over different sciences instead)

NOW back with Jimmy being shock Timmy doesn’t mind he’s smarter than him or that he’s a nerd and honestly wants to hang out and be friends with him; it honestly surprises him but then he’s like well ok let’s hang out and learns Timmy isn’t a bad person to want to hang out with probably sees why even Cindy seems to like to hang out with him even though he’s not the smartest person out there Timmy is quite pleasant person to hang out with & even though Timmy may teases him about being a nerd he doesn’t make fun of him

Now fast forward to when one of Jimmy’s villains teams up with Cocker Vald and palnton to try to take over not only Jimmy’s & Timmy’s Universes but Danny’s & SpongeBob’s universes as well

You can see Jimmy

And Timmy are pretty much friends by this point and making friends with Danny and SpongeBob as well while teaming saving their worlds together

Also in my fairy Timmy au

Wanda & Cosmo adopted Timmy as their own and Timmy becames a full Fairy and gets to grow up with Peri/poof but that means he goes missing from the human realm of his own universe and only ones who knows what happened to him is Cole but she can’t tell anyone or Wanda Cosmo cannot be her fairy god parents anymore (I’ve made it now the fish bowl where Wanda & Cosmo lives gets moved to her house while fairy council have intervened believing that human adults in Timmy’s life cannot be trusted in raising the one who save their universe and fairy world so many time AND they really don’t want anther Cocker on their hands or something worse it’s better to have Timmy as a fairy and have him

Adopted into Wanda / Cosmos fairy bloodline so my fairy Oc who was the last human child to be turned into a forever fairy and doesn’t have any god kids to look after being as she’s way younger than Cosmo who was the last fairy to be born before Poof/peri (my fairy Oc Felicity was adopted by jorgen’s nana boom boom) is now responsible with training Fairy children how to handle their magical powers when they’re not in spellmentry school being as you gotta be VERY careful with how you train fairy children being as bad things happen when you make them upset (but good things happen with you make them laugh) so Jorgen’s not allowed to train fairy children (he’s allowed to do adults but children is a no no because he made felicity cry a few times she was a kid when he was trying to train her like he doe with adult fairy’s and nearly blow up fairy world and made Nana Boom boom quite upset)

Felicity is quite scared to be responsible teacher for 1st 2 fairy children in over a thousand years AND Wanda & Cosmo would give her scary glares at her when they 1st had dropped off Timmy and toddler poof\peri for their 1st training to use their magic classes (the glare was like you hurt/ upset our kids in any way WE WILL make you pay kinda glare so you can understand WHY she was pretty nervous besides that her main jobs before becoming a fairy teacher was to help inspired Artists / writers (and help them get out of writers/artist block) help cats/kittens find the humans who will help them get forever homes and keeping all the records of what goes on with Fairy world (she works with father times for this sometimes)

And while this is going on Jimmy is looking into what Happened to Timmy

And I think Jimmy would care about trying to figure out what happened to Timmy because he is a good friend like Carl and Sheen are to him so of course he’d want to know where Timmy is now and hopefully he’s safe (also my best guess Jimmy would suspect Timmy’s human parents might of course Timmy to run away because he did once have to put up with how they treat Timmy so he knows fully well things are not well in the Turner household)

He most likely would have to enlist Danny Phantom to help him find Timmy

(And I’m going have leave you all here because it’s REALLY late and I have woke tomorrow/ later and one of my cats are complaining I’m late with going to bed )

#jimmy neutron #jimmy timmy power hour #jimmytimmy #timmyjimmy #fairly odd parents timmy #fairly odd parents timmy turner #fairly odd parents #nicktoons unite #nicktoons #nickelodeon #fairly oddparents #the fairly oddparents #fairly odd parents oc #fop timmy turner #timmy turner #fairy timmy #fairy timmy turner au #fop timmy #my drawings

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madintersexmermaid · 4 months ago

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Advice for the day: don't ever let anybody make you feel bad for being an academic and an academic nerd (especially as most of us academic nerds were once neurvous overachievers who also later turned out to be neurodivergent autistics later in life!).

But anyways, I love you, academics. The dark academics. The light academics. The punk academics. The goth academics. The emo academics. The hillbilly academics. The Appalachian academics. The leftist academics. The anarchist academics. The socialist academics. The forest academics. The ocean academics. The academics who collect tons and tons of books that they don't read. The academics who collect tons and tons of books and DO read all of them. The academics who stay up late studying for exams the next day and listen to whatever music (i.e. classical, orchestral, lo-fi, pop, metal, R&B, punk, folk, etc.) helps them concentrate. The academics who frequently spend time in solitude reading books in between hallways in their local library or bookstore. The academics who study, read books, write poetry and listen to music while taking a ride on the train. The academics who daydream and overthink. The academics who have passionate yet lively and animated debates and discussions about politics, movies, music, TV shows, books, literature, pop culture, social justice and real world issues with their friends. The academics that watch old black and white movies while drinking a cup of tea or coffee on a rainy day. The academics who spend time in botanical studies and grow their own gardens. The academics that take calm serene walks in the park and spend their time people watching or drawing art sketches. The academics that wildly run through the forests and have outdoor picnics with their friends, without a worry in the world. The academics who are theater nerds or musical nerds. Academics that live in the city. Academics that live in the country. Academics that attend community colleges. Academics that attend pretigious universities. Black academics. White academics. Asian academics. Latino academics. Jewish academics. Arab academics. Desi academics. Middle Eastern academics. Palestinian academics. Iranian academics. Native/Indigenous and Aboriginal academics. Southeast Asian academics. Romani academics. Māori academics. Poor academics. Rich academics. Working academics. Homeless academics. Academics that live in the inner city. Academics that live in the suburbs. Queer academics. Intersex academics. Autistic academics. Disabled academics. Academics who are Christian. Academics who are Hindu. Academics who are Muslim. Academics who are Catholic. Academics who are Buddhist. Academics here in the United States of America. Academics across the pond in England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, etc. Academics in South America. Academics in Spain. Academics in Africa. Academics in other parts of Europe. Academics in the Middle East. Academics that were the only folks out from among their household to attend school and graduate. Academics that were bullied, disrespected, abused and picked on for being different and looked at as freaks, losers, oddballs and outcasts. Academics that fight tooth and nail to have an education in the midst of war, poverty and humanitarian crises. Academics that literally have to fight for an education while having to deal with various stumbling blocks such as financial difficulties, gender discrimination, racial discrimination, class discrimination, religious discrimination or unsupportive people. Elderly academics who went to school, got an education and graduated later in life.

To academics everywhere, whatever your race, gender, religion, socio-economic status or situation is, I love you all. From an academic nerd to other academic nerds everywhere.

#dark academia #punk academia #actually autistic #Anarchademia #autistic academic

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sombredancer · 4 months ago

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Li Lun, a villain I feel for (Pt. 2/4)

So, by the beginning of the drama LL says that he wants to kill all of ZYZ’s new friends. In fact, he just likes talking. He says: “Let’s kill ZYZ’s friends starting with Baize Goddess, like the previous time” so the viewer thinks he killed previous goddess off, but later we learn that he didn't do it. Even if he has a perfect opportunity to kill someone of ZYZ’s new friends without ruining his own schemings, he does pretty nothing to achieve it. He just stands and talks. Because he doesn’t really want to kill anyone, including ZYZ. He wants to attract ZYZ’s attention and to make ZYZ stop ghosting him.

Li Lun speaks to Big Bad in Mask while possessing a courtesan. Meanwhile, he lends Truth Eye to Ao Ying so she could see his true self.

LL joins hands with Big Bad in Mask, not knowing he was the one who tortured demons in that bloody dungeon (yeah, LL is not the smartest guy of the Universe). By doing it he tries to achieve his own goals. First, he wants to break free from his custody, and second, he wants to get attention from ZYZ, who ignores him.

In order to break his chains LL works as matchmaker for ZYZ and his girlfriend, so they could fall in love with each other and find and unite pieces of Baize token, because only if the token is intact, it can be broken and its spells can be dissipated. He is not a saint, so he kills some folks (by possessing them or just because) and tricks other demons into helping him, although he is said to value his own kind more than anything. It means he goes through break-up with ZYZ so badly, that even his principles fade into the background for his anger and pain. Or it’s just another script flaw.

Li Lun behaves himself very much as a ghosted ex-boyfriend (in fact, he is), and I understand him well. He goes through stages of acceptance: throws himself from denial (ZYZ is no better than me, why don't you treat him the way he treated me?) through anger (ZYZ, I’ll kill your friends and make you suffer!) to bargaining (Why does he find you better than me? What if you would be like me, would he still love you?).

To talk about his feelings with someone, he uses the only way to leave his dark lifeless place of imprisonment, which is possessing others. At first, this ability and an omnipotence of it looks intimidating, but later we learn that he cuts his lifespan by a half each time he does it, so his need to talk to someone is very desperate. (Later, LL says that it was his way to enjoy the world and freedom but GJM never showed us such a use of this LL's ability). ZYZ knows that destroying LL’s leaves (through which he possesses bodies) will hurt Li Lun, yet he does it anyway, and LL kinda... enjoys it bitterly. As if the fact of him being not ignored by ZYZ is more important that his wellbeing. It's miserable and pathetic, but understandable.

And anytime LL tries to get some answers for his questions, ZYZ and his friends say something like “You don’t understand a thing, I won’t bother to explain, though.” or “We have friends and ZYZ is our boyfriend, and you are a lonely loser!”. How it supposes to help LL understand his wrongs? I have no idea.

Ghosting your ex is the sure way to make him a villain.

LL breaks free from his jail and destroys a “support beam” of the “wall” around demon ghetto. An accent on “I’m destroying the wall” is strange, because I can’t understand the gain demons will have when they aren't in their ghetto anymore (and it obviously should be). Would Great Demons even the scores of victims if not only humans would catch and torture demons but demons would also catch and torture humans, or what? However, it sounds pretty fair, as long as said Baize Goddess’ and ZYZ’s protection of demons consist in only preventing them from going outside their ghetto without passport, LOL.

Although LL is free from the seal, he is still dying from the fatal wound causing by ZYZ 8 years ago. His true body is smoldering slowly, so he has got not so much time left.

For plot purposes, the main heroes need to visit LL’s birthplace to get the last cup of magic water to fix Baize token and to restore a “support beam” of ghetto’s wall. What would a normal villain do, knowing about it? Yes, he would spill it. What does LL do? He, in fact, hands it over to the main heroes. Yes, stained, but LL was a student of Mountain God, too, so he could know that there is a way to restore the pureness of magic water, and the best way to destroy the token for good is to spill this water.

During their visit LL kidnaps ZYZ’s girlfriend (it is funny that the main heroes don’t notice it for something like first five minutes 😅) and has a phycologist session with her (in which she is a psychologist). They have a superstrange conversation, something like: LL: “ZYZ supposed to be my friend but ghosted me for no obvious for me reason and I’m hurt!”. WX: “Oh, it’s because you are a loser with no friends, ZYZ did everything right!”.

Then ZYZ and his current boyfriend come and LL tries once more to tell ZYZ that he is hurt, but ZYZ has absolutely no desire to talk to him or to explain to him something and acts like they were never boyfriends and LL is his archenemy.

So, they fight and ZYZ hurts LL with Everburning Wood once more, now deliberately. LL dies, and although ZYZ has red eyes at this moment he never thinks of LL again. So, LL is right: ZYZ is a hypocrite with double standards. It is such a contrast with the stories of the main heroes and ancient dragon gods, in which killing your friend for Higher Goals is a tragedy.

But there is a plot twist ahead!

Here is Part 1 Here is Part 3 Here is Part 4

#fangs of fortune #大梦归离 #li lun #cdrama #fof #yan an #SDaboutFoF #离仑 #閆桉 #long reads

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 months ago

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Beautiful Losers, Leonard Cohen's second novel, was published in 1966, and was the last of his writing before he quit Hydra, Greece to move to the United States inaugurating his legendary singing and music career. This novel prompted the Boston Globe to declare: "James Joyce is not dead. He is living in Montreal under the name of Cohen."

The last paragraph of the short story Dead by James Joyce which Leonard Cohen was so fond of.

"Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, further westwards, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling too upon every part of the lonely churchyard where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead"

(Leonard Cohen)

#JamesJoyce #Leonard Cohen #The Dead #quotes

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incorrect-green-lantern-quotes · 4 months ago

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Green Lanterns generally don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.

This is of course because the vast majority of the Corps aren’t even from Earth, let alone the United States. And the seven humans who are citizens of that country are often off-world when the holiday comes around.

(Look, keeping track of Earth time is really hard when you’re nowhere even close to the Solar System)

Despite this, most Green Lanterns understand what Thanksgiving is on some level. It is fairly common for most cultures that come from agricultural foundations to have a festival that is centered around gratitude for a successful harvest- Earth alone has multiple variations of this celebration, and it is hardly unique among other planets in this regard. Scaled up to the entire universe, and virtually all Green Lanterns will have encountered a version of this holiday on some planet within their sectors, if not their own homeworld.

Of course, there is a lot of differences from culture to culture. For instance, the Astonians' Helious Night feast of tuber cakes and fruit is very different from a Toomeyan Ry'Sharak gathering that involves fighting wild beasts and eating the losers. Despite these occasionally jarring differences though, the sentiment of giving thanks remains consistent across the celebrations of many worlds.

It's hardly surprising then, that Green Lanterns who wanted to share such traditions with their comrades and friends within the Corps should come up with a version all their own. It began in the distant past as a simple gathering between several officers from neighboring sectors. Just a group of friends getting together for a good time, each one bringing food or drink from their respective homeworlds. They did this once every cycle of Oa around its star (which is actually shorter than an Earth year, funnily enough), and each time the party got larger and larger as more and more GLs were invited. In time, it became an event that the entire Corps was involved in.

Even the Guardians of the Universe would sometimes join the festivities. Immortals they may be, but the Maltusians were once a race like any other, who once upon a time had celebrated long-forgotten holidays of their own. Fittingly enough, one of those was yet another version of thanksgiving. And if one or two or all of the Guardians did feel a spark of gratitude to see their Green Lanterns celebrating each others' company- well, that's between the little blue guys.

So no, the Green Lanterns do not celebrate Thanksgiving. Instead, they meet on Oa once a year to share good food and companionship, and to be grateful for each others' friendship and continued survival (being a Green Lantern is a dangerous life, after all).

#headcanon #green lantern corps #alien culture #thanksgiving #dc comics #made up holidays #guardians of the universe #green lantern culture #creative writing

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s10127470 · 2 months ago

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Meet the Alternate Universe X-Men Teams! (Part 1)

I'm sure some of you reading have seen my post announcing my very first movie fanfic: X-Men: Mutants United!

And I stated that it would see my version of The X-Men teaming up with five alternate versions of themselves.

And so I figure it would be a good idea to introduce these five alternate teams as soon as possible!

The Ultimate X-Men:

Like I said in my initial post, these guys hail from an alternate version of The Ultimate Universe.

I.E.: one where not every goddamn person is a raging loser asshole.

The X-Men here are essentially the same as they were in the original Ultimate Universe, but once again, minus the asshole nature.

In fact, these versions of the characters are much more in line with how they were in the 616 Universe and most of their other iterations.

The team in this universe consists of Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Storm, Beast, Colossus, Wolverine, Iceman, Morph, Nightcrawler, Angel, Jubilee, Shadowcat, Lockheed, Gambit, Rogue, Psylocke, Dazzler and Xavier.

As for their appearances and outfits, they would the same ones done by u/Big_Cardiologist_427 from Reddit.

You can tell that they're basically modified versions of their looks from The OG Ultimate Universe.

But with some notable changes, like the addition of colored lines on the outfits.

Honestly, these outfits and looks are leagues better than the those from the OG Ultimate.

Out of everyone here, Dazzler probably got the best upgrade.

She definitely looks like a pop singer of the modern day!

And I know that seems strange to mention, but remember, this is what she looked like the original Ultimate Universe.

Like, it's basically night and day!

But seriously though, what the hell was the OG Ultimate Universe on when it came to character designs?

As for Lockheed, he looks basically the same as he usually does.

As for their art-style (yes, each team will be in an unique art-style), The Ultimate X-Men would be in the style of Kaare Andrews.

In terms of their ages......

Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Storm, Angel and Morph are all 17.

Beast and Psylocke are 19.

Colossus, Nightcrawler and Rogue are 16.

Iceman and Shadowcat are 15.

Jubilee is 14.

Gambit and Dazzler are 18.

Xavier is in his mid-40s.

Wolverine is old as hell.

As for their heights......

Cyclops is 6'0.

Marvel Girl is 5'7.

Beast is 6'4.

Storm is 5'11.

Colossus is 6'5 (7'2 in steel form).

Wolverine is 5'0.

Iceman is 5'4.

Morph is 5'9.

Nightcrawler is 5'2.

Angel is 5'10.

Jubilee is 4'11.

Shadowcat is 5'3.

Lockheed is 3'0.

Gambit is 5'11.

Rogue is 5'6.

Psylocke is 5'11.

Dazzler is 5'8.

And Xavier is 6'0 (5'0 thanks to wheelchair).

In terms of their romantic relationships, these the couples among the team and whose dating who.......

-Cyclops x Marvel Girl

-Beast x Quicksilver

-Storm x Dazzler

-Colossus x Iceman

-Nightcrawler x Angel

-Shadowcat x Magik

-Gambit x Rogue

-Psylocke x The White Queen.

And finally, we have their voices.

Cyclops would be voiced by Ben Diskin.

Marvel Girl would be voiced by Laura Bailey.

Beast would be voiced by Yuri Lowenthal.

Storm would be voiced by Kimberly Brooks.

Colossus would be voiced by Jason Marsden.

Wolverine would be voiced by Steve Blum.

Iceman would be voiced by Jeremy Shada.

Morph would be voiced by Will Friedle.

Nightcrawler would be voiced by Robbie Daymond.

Angel would be voiced by Sam Riegel.

Jubilee would be voiced by Haley Tju.

Shadowcat and Psylocke would both be voiced by Erica Lindbeck.

Lockheed would be voiced by Dee Bradley Baker.

Gambit would be voiced by Zeno Robinson.

Rogue would be voiced by Catherine Taber.

Dazzler would be voiced by Cristina Vee.

And Xavier would be voiced by Keith Ferguson.

The 90s X-Men:

These guys hail from an alternate version of The 90s Animated Universe.

For those not in the know, it's the shared universe that consists of X-Men: The Animated Series and its sequel series X-Men '97, Fantastic Four: The Animated Series, Iron Man: The Animated Series, Spider-Man: The Animated Series, and The Incredible Hulk (1996).

Essentially, this universe, The X-Men had a bigger team.

This version consists of Cyclops, Jean Grey, Storm, Wolverine, Rogue, Gambit, Beast, Jubilee, Morph, Bishop, Nightcrawler, Iceman, Colossus, Psylocke, Xavier and Magneto.

As for their appearances and outfits, you can't beat the classics.....

As for their art-style, same from '97.

In terms of their ages.

Cyclops and Jean are 29.

Storm is 32.

Wolverine is old as hell (as to be expected).

Rogue and Bishop are 25.

Gambit and Iceman are 27.

Beast is 31.

Jubilee is 18.

Morph and Nightcrawler are 26.

Colossus is 22.

Psylocke is 30.

Xavier is in his late 50s.

And Magneto is in his 70s.

As for their heights: same as in the comics.

In terms of their romantic relationships, we've got....

-Cyclops x Jean

-Storm x Yukio

-Wolverine x Morph

-Rogue x Gambit

-Beast x Carly

And lastly, for their voices....

The characters would were voiced in '97 would have their respective actors reprising their roles.

As for the ones who weren't.

Iceman would be voiced by Danny Cooksey.

Colossus would be voiced by Nolan North.

And Psylocke would also be voiced by Jennifer Hale.

Well that's all for now!

Part 2 will be out pretty shortly!

But until then, let me know what you guys think about the depictions I came up with for these two versions of the X-Men!

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delulu-sushi · 1 year ago

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Always By Your Side - Part 3

Previous! -> Next!

TR Spoilers! (Obv ;P)

TW: Cursing! (Middle school cursing lol)

June 19, 2003

The wind is tickling your ears as you move your hair in front of it in an attempt to warm your ears from the cold breeze. But the moment you let go of his waist, Draken speeds up, prompting you to quickly grasp on his shoulder

"What the fuck Draken?" You scream in his ear, overdramatizing the incident.

"Hold on tight, loser," Draken shouts with a smirk as Mitsuya speeds by.

You watch the others go up as you stay at the bottom of the stars, anticipating Baji and Mikey (the boys know about your obv crush... even pah)

VROOM

Baji sees your figure and speeds his motorcycle in your direction, hearing the roar of his ride get louder and scarier. "BAJI" You scream

"You know," you push up your fake glasses as you help Baji get the sleeping Mikey off the bike, "You should maybe SLOW DOWN when you're going to park instead of SPEEDING UP YOU DUMBASS" you scream the words intentionally in his face as he starts screaming back at you, "YOU'RE JUST SCARED YOU'RE LITTLE BOYFRIEND IS GONNA FALL OFF"

"OHMAGOSH SHUTUP BAJI" Despite the embarrassment (you knew Mikey couldn't hear anything when he was asleep) a smile embraced your face hearing Baji call Mikey your boyfriend.

The sound of happiness and youthful days

The two of you walk up to the rest of the group, where everyone was waiting,

"It's called being fashionably late, darlings" you say in a preppy voice as a response to the stares, but it only brings more confused looks (except from Mitsuya and maybe Draken). "You don't have to stare at me like that" you whisper in embarrassment, cheeks turning red.

You don't notice it, but he's staring at you. You're just too cute.

"So, what did you want to talk about" Draken asks, completely ignoring your awkward entrance.

You listen intently. His voice. You cherish every moment.

Mikey stands up groggily and clears his voice as he walks to the front, and sits on the wooden rail of the shrine. He looks at you and you walk closer to him, standing right by his side and leaning against the rail.

"It's about the black dragons" His voice is serious, and you understand the meaning of the meeting when you catch Kazutora flinch. Draken says how dangerous they are and Mikey drops the bomb on how Kazutora was attacked by the Black Dragons.

You look at Kazu with concern. When you first met him, he didn't seem to like Manjiro very much, and you guessed it was because of how self-centered Jiro was. You, however, were like an older sister to him, and since you had a twin brother (who was born 10 minutes older), you always wanted a younger sibling. Kazu was all that and more.

"So, you're planning on fighting the Black Dragons?" Draken asks Mikey the question which you knew the answer to. Your eyes don't leave Kazutora. Mikey cares about everyone he is close to, and you love that about him. You just wish Kazutora would understand that.

Baji, the most loyal, stands up declaring his idea, "Let's make a gang." The group didn't say a single word against it. Everyone was for the idea. "ANND I Already know the positions!"

"MIKEY! Who is a better fit to be our president than the most self-centered man in the universe? DRAKEN! Everyone's favorite big bro will handle the gang (and Mikey) as the Vice President! MITSUYA! Our peace maker will be the elite guard? PAH-CHIN! The powerful man will be our flag bearer. And me and Kazu will be SPECIAL ATTACK UNIT!"

You start to cheer but stop when you realize that everyone is staring at you. "And Y/N chan?" Mitsuya asks.

Before anyone can speak, Mikey answers, "As the president," he starts off, flaunting his new role, "I think dor- n/n chan should be the smart person, because she's smart and plan stuff. um, the-" Mikey fumbles on his words as you finish the sentence for him

"Like, the planner? To plan the moves and dates and analytics?" The gang looks at you with a big smile

"YEA" Pah-chin screams, "Without the smart one we'd be a bunch of dummies" he says with a grin

"This is why you always listen to the president," Mikey speaks again, "And I've already thought of the name" Mikey hops off the rail and walks toward the group, "TOKYO MANJIRO GANG" he shouts with enthusiasm.

His enthusiasm, however, was met with the whole group shouting "LAME" and your giggles

"Well then it's settled" Baji continues, "Except for the name," Mitsuya adds with the others nodding along

"Our gang," Baji continues, "Will be one that represents our friendship." Baji looks at you, "All for one-"

"and one for all" you finish with a smile

"LETS GO GET A CHARM" Pah Chin screams as you all run off.

You stop and stare at your friends, as Mikey runs over to you, taking your hand and pulling you along

"Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one"

November 1, 2005, morning

You hear a faint gasp and a door creak close as you open your eyes, adjusting to the room around you. The weight of your boyfriend, Manjiro Sano, pins you down to the bed, but that's ok. You never want to leave his embrace.

You cuddle closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and playing with his hair. He cuddled on top of you, his messy, golden hair adorning your neck, and your fingers instinctively move there to stroke his head.

"Nng" He groans and groggily open his eyes while you shush him with a kiss on the forehead. His arms wrap tighter around you but your moment is suddenly interrupted by a sky knock on the door.

"Y/N!" Emma calls out to you "Don't you have school today?"

Mikey doesn't let you answer as he annoyedly answers Emma with a sharp "NO", cueing her to leave and start her daily routine of bickering about Emma.

Mikey sits up as you follow his action, resting your head on his shoulder as you savor the moment with him. Mikey reaches for your phone as you get a call, and he answers it.

"HII ONII-CHANNN" Mikey mimics your girly voice when you talk to your brother and you try to snatch the phone while you hear your brother laughing on the other side, "Glad to know you're safe Tenshi" he says as Mikey ends the call.

You give up on Mikey's childish behavior and drop yourself on him. "Manji"

"Hm?"

"Kanji"

"MMM?"

"My sweet dorayaki" you end with a kiss on his neck

"Heh, what is it koibito?"

"Tell me"

"Everything Kanji."

"Ok N/N. Let's go meet Shin"

#manjiro sano #manjiro sano x reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers fluff #baji keisuke #draken #toman mikey #toman gang #tokrev #tokyo revengers toman #hanemiya kazutora #mikey kun

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