#it was refreshing to write a what if scenario | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pushinpieta · 8 days ago

Note

Hey! Can I request scenarios (any type) of WHC Boys with shy girly reader

Thankyou<3

“don’t shy away from me” - whc boys x reader fluff (scenarios)

synopsis: how weak hero class characters shows their feelings for shy fem reader. warnings: catcalling, minor violence, swearing, pls excuse the grammatical and spelling errors

a/n: thank you for the request. this was a lot of fun to write. hope you like it :p includes: sieun, suho, humin, gotak, seongje, baekjin, juntae

SIEUN:

it was a part of sieun’s routine to go to the library to study and revise. it was also his routine to see you on the farther end of the table do the same. after months of being strangers who shared a table without a word, sieun had grown rather fond of having someone to accompany him. whether you talked or not didn’t matter to him. he could tell right off the bat that you were shy and introverted. often keeping to yourself and keeping your eyes on the computer screen.

sometimes, if he’s lucky enough, he’d catch your eyes and even a small smile. acknowledging him. one thing stayed the same: you never spoke.

he didn’t know your name. you didn’t know his name. so, why did he feel concerned when you were absent? you were just strangers after all.

sieun found himself craning his head towards your designated spot only to see it deserted. that was unusual of you, you were always there. no matter the weather, no matter the time. you were always where sieun wanted you to be. across from him.

as time went on, sieun had developed feelings for you. a complete stranger. which was unexpected of him. he wasn’t the type to fall so easily but he had found a familiarity in you that brought him comfort. your sheepish smile and evasive eye contact had been his motivation to show up to the library. just being able to study together in silence without the need for small talk or exchanges felt refreshing to him. he enjoyed the silence, the only sound being the clacking of your fingers on the keyboard and the scribbles of his pen on paper. it was his routine. you were his routine.

tensed, sieun wracked his mind over the possibilities of why you were not there. he waited, hoping you were just late. the sun had set, darkening the sky outside. still no sign of you.

the library was to close soon and you weren’t there. you never came.

the next day came. sieun did the same thing as the day before. he waited for you till the very last hour. even waiting until the librarian came to kick him out. he didn’t know why he was doing this but he wouldn’t give up until he was able to see you again. until he was able to get his routine back.

the third day of your absence came and sieun finally began to grow anxious enough to pace around the area. he’d turn around at the sound of footsteps expecting it to be yours, only to be disappointed with the sight of strangers he wasn’t used to.

after a week had past, sieun began to lose his motivation to go to the library to study. what was the point if you weren’t there? but exams were soon so he dragged himself, planning to only stay for an hour or so.

that was until he heard light footsteps come up behind him. and then a raspy cough. one that came deep from the chest.

it was you.

sieun almost leaped out of his chair to ask you where you were but he stayed seated. waited like he always did for you to turn to him and smile in greetings. and when you did, his heart sank. bags under your eyes had darkened and hollowed, your lips looked pale and chapped, and you looked like you would pass out any moment. despite your exhausted exterior, you gave him a smile, a silent one.

and for the first time sieun gathered the courage to speak.

“haven’t seen you in a while.” he stated, looking down at his hands.

“ah, you noticed?” you answered quietly, voice weak from coughing.

“how could i not? we study on the same table every single day.” he said.

“that’s true,” you scratched your head, “i’ve been out with a cold the past week.”

and with that followed your comfortable silence. you went to your usual seat, pulled out your laptop, coughed a little more and started working. sieun couldn’t help but notice the discomfort in your face. he stood up and left the library.

after about 20 minutes, you began to wonder where he disappeared off to, leaving his stuff behind. you didn’t have his contact information let alone his name.

“hey…” his voice came, breathless.

the sound of a bag rustling caused you to jerk your head towards his voice. sieun carried a bag in his hand. the blue logo of the local pharmacy giving away where he was gone off too the last few minutes.

“i noticed that you were coughing so i bought you some cough drops and this heating pad and…” he fiddled through the bag to show you what he got, “and this ibuprofen. also, i don’t know what you like but i got dark chocolate, it’s good for you.”

“oh uhm—“ you take the bag from his hands, baffled beyond belief.

“looks like you forgot water too. here, take this” he placed a bottle of water on the table by your laptop.

“you don’t even know my name and you went out to do all this for me?” you raised your brow, ignoring the cough bubbling in your chest.

“i don’t need to know your name to care.” he replied, opening the bottle for you as it was screwed too tight and you were out of strength.

“thank you…” you answered with a scratchy voice, “d-do you want to sit next to me?”

sieun got caught by surprise at your proposal but he silently agreed, grabbing his stationary and books, pushing the chair out to sit right next to you.

“my names yeon sieun.” he introduced while sitting himself down, “what’s yours?”

SUHO:

suho often visited the boxing ring to exercise before work. he had very less time to fit in to workout in his schedule but he always ended up there. mainly because you were there.

you were quiet, very shy, and extremely cute. a part timer that stuck around cleaning up the place, replacing toilet paper, handing our water bottles silently. you were a complete mystery to him. he only knew your name and that was only because he heard your manager call for you once. it took him only that one time to have your name memorized and recited in his head over and over.

you rarely spoke to anyone in gym. only watching with curious eyes. sometimes you’d get engrossed in a match with a slight smile on your face. that would never go missed by suho.

he was head over heels, love struck, and frankly desperate in love with you. every part of you from head to toe was his type. he was determined to woo you.

there was obstacle and that was how shy you were. you often avoided eye contact with him, ducking past him to evade his greetings and his attempt at small talk, even leaving the workout area so that you wouldn’t have to speak to anyone. if he greeted you, you’d only smile or nod, never making proper eye contact.

he recalled to himself that he’d never heard your voice yet. that would change soon. suho had a plan to leave the gym with your phone number.

he was absolutely certain he’d be able to pull it off. how could you say no to his handsome face? he hyped himself up in the mirror before walking over to the gym.

luck seemed to be on his side this very day. his eyes landed on you, watering some plants at the front desk area of the boxing club. you were crouched down, deep in concentration. at first, you hadn’t noticed that he was standing there watching you until he cleared his throat.

“hey,” he waved, sounding confident, “i see you’re, uh, watering the plants. i wondered who kept them so well cared for. looks like it was you all along.”

you looked around feeling flustered by the fact that he was speaking to you while standing so close. it felt almost impossible for you to form a response. you couldn’t even look him in the eyes without looking away.

“t-thanks.” you answered curtly, turning away to the office, hoping to escape embarrassing yourself.

“wait!” he called out, stopping you from taking another step.

“i’m ahn suho,” he answered, chuckling awkwardly to thin out the tension between you two, “i know your name. it’s y/n, right?”

your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised, surprised and almost touched that he knew your name. you nodded, hands slightly trembling. you stepped back a little but suho followed.

“i see you looking at me sometimes,” he started, your face dropped in shame, you were ready to walk out but suho put his hands out in defense, “n-not that i mind!”

then he continued, “i look at you too. you’re very beautiful and totally my type…which brings me to my question…do you wanna go out with me?”

you turned and ran. leaving the boy dumbfounded and defeated. he looked down heartbroken, not calling out to you. despite the slight humiliation, he walked towards the punching bag, hoping it would get his mind off of the rejection he just experienced.

he was focused on searching his bag for his gloves, unaware of the fact that you came up behind him with a bottle of cold water in your hand and a pink sticky note stuck to it.

he looked up, blush evident on his face. watching you crouch down next to him to hand the bottle with a shy smile on your face. the apples of your cheeks rose up making you all the more beautiful. suho was practically drooling, but he steadied himself.

“here. have some water.” you spoke, voice soft, “and about what you asked earlier. i’d like that.”

with that, you got up and trodded away to wherever. suho took the bottle in his hand, mouth slack in shock. the pink sticky note had your phone number written neatly and a heart next to your name.

he fell on his bum with a loud thud, earning concerned stares from the others in the room. feeling prideful and excited, he started laughing to himself like an idiot, ignoring the fact that people probably thought he had gone mad.

he was just a boy in love after all.

HUMIN:

humin had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. he thought he was good at hiding it but his friends were quick to pick up on it, teasing him every time you walked by or turning to give him looks when your name was called out during attendance. everyone thought of him as a hopeless idiot with an even more hopeless crush.

that was because you rarely ever spoke. too shy and too reserved. timid and observing eyes silently watching the world ahead.

the very few times humin had ever heard you speak was when you were with your small group of friends during lunch. giggling quietly with your hand covering your mouth and eyes to the ground. in his eyes you were like a fairy, glowing and twinkling with sparkly dust following you everywhere you went.

amidst your quiet and withdrawn personality, you seemed to always have one or two or a million guys woo over you. often getting asked out or finding love letter tucked inside your desk and even getting serenaded outside of the school. humin disliked how he had competition. even when you rejected every single person, he felt unreasonably self conscious and jealous.

however he had an upper hand. you had known him since elementary school. the years of seeing each other had warmed you up to him. not enough to have you strike up a conversation but enough to smile and wave at him every now and then when you ran into each other in the hallways.

impatience was all he felt. valentine’s day was nearing and he knew that your locker would be stuffed with anything but his confession. and he wanted to change that.

your house was a block before his so he walked behind you almost everyday. of course, he kept a distance to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. today, however, he had to stay back to clean the classroom as he was part of the cleaning duties for the week.

after dismissal, he ran home, hoping he’d see you and confirm that you got home safe. something stopped him in his tracks. the sound of laughter came from the alleyway that you both always walked down towards your homes.

from afar, humin was able to spot three guys crowding you against a wall. you looked visibly upset and uncomfortable, arms crossed over your chest. anger knocked him over causing him to shuffled towards the commotion with his brows knitted and his nose flaring.

“cmon, pretty, let’s have some fun,” a deep voice came from the trio of guys.

“yeah! come one, we’ll show you a real good time!” the other joined, moving a strand of your hair behind your ears.

you flinched away, “i don’t want to.”

“stop playing hard to get—“ the third was about to touch your face but a harsh kick to his back caused him to topple over and fall on his face with a loud shriek.

you watched as humin appeared behind the thugs. eyes full of rage and fight as he glared at every single one of them. for a split second, his cold gaze warmed when it met yours.

“you bastards are just ugly.” humin snarled, cracking his neck with confidence.

“who the hell are you?!” the one on the ground groaned in pain, clutching his hips.

“i’m her boyfriend.” humin puffed his chest with pride, “you okay…baby?” the pet name rolled off his tongue hesitantly, causing butterflies in his stomach.

you nodded anxiously, stepping over the guy in the ground to stand next to humin. he turned to you with a wide grin of assurance, giving you a thumbs up. the remaining two watched in horror.

he lowered his head to your ears to whisper, “is it okay if i hold your hands?”

“y-yeah.” you agreed, shyly lacing your smaller fingers with his larger ones.

his hands were tough yet held a warmth that eased your pounding heartbeat. he thanked you silently before turning his attention back on the guys.

“you pricks better leave my girl alone. do you understand?” he declared, showcasing you holding hands “or you’ll end up like your friend.”

he nodded towards the coward still whimpering like a dog on the ground.

they all scattered like mice, leaving you alone with humin in the alleyway. for a moment, humin didn’t speak, watching them fully disappear to finally speak to you.

“you okay?” he asked, not letting go of your hands.

“i am.” you answered, “thank you, humin.”

“i—uh—uhm—“ he stuttered, scratching his head shyly, “y-you’re welcome! anytime!”

you giggled, watching him stutter and squeak. you tightened your grip on his hand, making him fall silent. his heart beat out of his chest.

“could you, maybe, walk me home?” you asked, swaying your hands up and down in the air like a child.

“of course,” he nodded, voice more manly and confident, “if it’s okay with you, i could walk you home everyday…we do live close.”

“really?” you asked, “that would be great.”

“y-yeah, it would.” he smiled, “would you let me hold your hand like this everyday then?”

“yeah.” you smiled, “of course.”

GOTAK

as classmates you had rarely spoken to gotak even though you sat right behind him. that was because he found you intimidating. you kept to yourself most of the time, keeping quiet in conversations. always listening and watching but rarely speaking. you had a small group of friends but you were the quietest, walking along with them silently. to others, you stood out the least due to your unnoticeable presence but to gotak, you shone the brightest.

your mellow presence had an unusual appeal. you were like a mysterious creature lurking around. he was attracted to it.

in contrast, gotak was outgoing. he had many friends and he played for the school’s basketball team which gave him some popularity. he carried conversations and lit up every room he entered.

gotak had the ability to start a conversation with anyone. he lacked fear in going up to people or asking questions in class. for some strange reason, he found himself feeling shy when it came to talking to you.

you were just so intimidating. perhaps even unapproachable. a thick veil wrapped around you everywhere you went.

or that was what he thought.

he was walking to the supermarket to run errands for his mother one day when he saw you outside laughing and talking with an elderly grandma who had a hunched back. she seemed to struggle with her load of groceries and you insisted with the widest smile to help out, offering your arm for her to hold onto as you took the bags from her hands into yours.

he watched, astonished. eyes twinkling like a cartoon character who just discovered treasure. stepping closer, he eavesdropped.

“young lady, you are too kind.” the old woman stated, patting you on the arm.

“it’s nothing. plus your house is right down the street, isn’t it?” you asked, pointing towards the direction.

“yes, dear,” she nodded, “but don’t you have errands to run at the store?”

“i’ll just come back after i drop off your groceries, don’t you worry!” you assured, slowing your pace to match the elderly woman.

gotak’s heart warmed. he no longer felt intimidated by you. he accepted that it wasn’t so bad that you were shy and quiet because above everything, you were kind and you did everything genuinely. you looked out for those around you and you listened intently, remembering everything.

after witnessing that, gotak was certain he had developed feelings for you. not only were you secretly his type, stealing his attention from others. but you were also sweet, just how he liked.

he would break the silence between you and him.

once you helped the nice old lady drop off her groceries at her home, you returned to the supermarket. you panted, out of breath from jogging all the way there, resting your hands on your knees to catch your breath. you looked up, freezing when you made eye contact with your classmate gotak. he looked handsome as ever, clad in his signature blue hoodie. he waved awkwardly, stepping closer.

“hey, what’re you up to?” he asked, feet pointed towards you.

“i came here to run some errands.” you answered, straightening up, “you?”

“same here.” he answered, the silence a little awkward, “i saw you help that elderly woman earlier. i’ve never seen you smile like that in school.”

“oh— you saw that?” you scratched the back of your neck shyly, feeling embarrassed that he saw you.

“yeah, that was…really sweet.” he replied, walking even closer.

you looked up at him, feeling shyness creep all over, threatening you to runaway from him. you ignored it, meeting his gaze.

“i just did what i thought was right.” you shrugged, “well, what are you here to get?”

“my mom sent me a list of items i have no idea where to find…” he groaned, tapping his phone screen to show you the text with a long list of things he had to buy.

“if you don’t mind, i could help you.” you offered, pointing to the entrance of the store.

“only if you let me buy you dinner after.” he blurted out, pink creeping up on his cheeks. he turned away to hide the colour on his face, so embarrassingly bright.

you giggled, covering your mouth, “this is the first time you speak to me and you’re already asking me out?”

“uh well, yknow i’m just shooting my shot—“

“sounds like a deal, gotak.” you grabbed his arm, dragging him into the market excitedly.

he followed along with a big smile spread across his face. you didn’t seem so shy and intimidating now. you seemed sweet and he’d let himself indulge until his teeth began to rot.

SEONGJE

seongje was insufferable. he sat in the back of the class with his group of followers who caused nothing but chaos. the teacher had given up on them farther into the semester.

the people surrounding seongje were loud. obnoxious, even. irritating everyone around them with their laughter and idiocy. but seongje never contributed to the commotion, he leaned back with a smug expression on his face, watching the disaster he had orchestrated unfold before him.

unfortunately for you, you sat right near his group of lackeys. desks cluttered towards each other in odd angles, ruining the straight harmony of space. it was hard for anyone to walk by nor get to their seats. you dreaded every single day before stepping through the sliding doors of your classroom. what you dreaded even more was walking past seongje’s lingering gaze. how could someone handsome look at you?

seongje always watched you with sly eyes, following the way you swiftly walked past him as fast as you could. always avoiding his eyes. he found it so adorable how shy you were, hopping by like a little bunny. as more days of silently taunting you passed, he came to reluctantly accept that maybe, just maybe, he had a little crush on you and wanted your attention.

he had never spoken to you before but he knew his presence intimidated you. his domineering aura causing you to shrink away every time he came close. there were many instances where he tried to talk to you— like the time he asked you to pass him a beaker during biology lab or that one time when he was speaking to himself about the weather being shit, hoping you’d join.

you never once replied nor even looked him in the eyes. if he caught your gaze even for a shortest of moments, you’d turn away, occupying yourself with something as an excuse to avoid him. he had to find a way to snatch you up like a wolf.

you were much too shy, much too put-off.

the teacher smacked a ruler against the chalk board to gain attention from the students.

“alright, at the begging of the semester i mentioned a project, do you guys remember?” the teachers asked.

“yes.” the whole class groaned in unison.

“sound a little more excited, will you?” the teacher chuckled, “for this project you’ll need to find a partner. but here’s the catch, it can’t be anyone you sit next to or your friends. i’ll call on each of you and ask you to pick one random person. got it?”

even more groans followed.

seongje looked up to see you all tensed up. poor you. he would make use of this golden opportunity to chomp you up.

he waited like never before for his name to get called out before yours. yes! he almost stood up and pointed and laughed at you but he held back. grinning instead.

“geum seongje. pick your partner. can’t be anyone of your buddies.” the teacher scribbled seongje’s name on the board with chalk as neatly as possible.

“i choose y/n.” he answered curtly, leaning against his chair casually.

you turned your head towards him in horror. he only smirked in response. shooting you a taunting wave.

once everyone sat themselves next to their partners, seongje shuffled over to you, dropping himself down on the chair of the empty desk next to yours.

“hello, partner.” he leaned closer to you.

up close, seongje was even more handsome. everyone in the school knew he was hot but dangerous. rumors of him being a thug spread like wildfire, reaching even to you, someone who hardly spoke, too shy, too timid. which was why you mainly avoided him, scared he’d target you due to your sheepish nature.

you couldn’t help but look at him when he wasn’t looking. stealing longer glances his way. observing his large hands, or the way his long lashes casted a pretty shade over his eyes— then, his pinkish lips.

you slapped yourself back to reality, clearing your throat, “if you’re assuming i’m smart because i’m quiet, i’m here to assure you i’m not.”

“what’s with the self deprecation?” he raised a brow, “i picked you because i thought it would be fun.”

“fun?” you asked, scooting backwards, feeling him get too near.

“mhm…” he drawled, clicking a pen to write his phone number on your notebook, “thought we’d exchange contact info…we’ll need it, yeah?”

“yeah…” you slid your notebook closer.

a month of being partners had passed. neither of you came to an agreement for anything in the project. seongje constantly picked on you although as a joke, you still found yourself dreading and desiring each meeting with him. your feelings had gone complicated yet curious.

you had grown comfortable enough to disagree and argue with him and that made seongje all the more attracted to you. he found you amusing. the shy girl in his classes yelling at him when left alone.

“seongje, this isn’t working out. none of our ideas are aligning…at all.” you rubbed your temple with a frustrated sigh.

“i don’t see the problem. banter is good.” he shrugged, adjusting his glasses.

“you haven’t agreed with a single thing i’ve proposed.” you replied.

“neither have you, you don’t see me complaining.” he smirked.

“you’re frustrating me.” you said, rolling your eyes at him.

“you’re cute when you’re mad.” he complimented.

you paused, caught off guard, “what?”

“i’m serious you’re cute.” he clasped his palms together, leaning closer to you, “fine, i’ll agree with your ideas but then you have to do me a favor.”

you quirked your brow in confusion and curiosity, “what favor?”

“you have to be my girlfriend.” he suggested nonchalantly.

your mouth parted. words knocked out of your tongue. you took a breath as if to speak but stopped.

“i-is this a joke?” you questioned.

“no. i want you to be my girlfriend.” he answered, leaning closer.

the smell of cigarette dulling out any rationality left in you. he leaned closer, eyes not leaving his for an answer. he seemed genuine and yet so casual about it.

“if i say yes, will you do whatever i say?” you eyed him, waiting for a slip but he turned to you and nodded, confident in himself.

“whatever you say, pretty.” his gaze not leaving yours, “whatever.”

“okay then.” you huffed, “but if you piss me off i’ll— i’ll dump you!”

“woah, she’s strict.” he chuckled.

BAEKJIN

your weekends for the past month had been spent in an orphanage with kids. it wasn’t out of choice at first because you were shy and preferred to keep to yourself but as time went on and you warmed up to the youngins, you started to enjoy your weekends at the orphanage. everyone loved you.

during the fall semester you weren’t able to meet your volunteering hours because you were too shy to join anything and so, the teacher had signed you up to help out the orphanage. in the beginning, you were too nervous to work with younger kids, scared they’d overwhelm you, but through words of motivation from your teacher and the caregivers at the orphanage, you were able to feel comfortable speaking up and spending time with larger groups of people. you were to spend the rest of the semester volunteering there to meet your required hours.

it was a rainy saturday afternoon and you had instructed the kids to paint their favorite fruit on canvases using watercolor while you paced around and gave them tips and tricks. you were still shy, a person of less words, but when anyone approached you, you tried your best to help or keep a conversation flowing.

your attention was glued onto a painting of bananas a little boy was painting until you absentmindedly looked up to meet eyes with a familiar face. na baekjin. your classmate.

he stood across the room, watching you.

he had always known you as the shy girl who sat at the front of the class. and the only interaction he ever had with you was one time when he was walking down an underpass after a fight with some older guys while being all bruised up. you jogged up to him, silently handing him a handful of hot pink hello-kitty bandaids before turning to walk away without a question or a word. he appreciated the fact that you didn’t bombard him with questions like any other person would.

with time, he had found comfort in your silent understanding. you didn’t cower away from him like the others in your class. just treated him like everyone, acknowledging him, but not approaching him.

he was okay with it because he respected the fact that you were shy and liked to keep to yourself. sometimes, however, he day dreamed about how it feel to speak to you. he hoped it would come naturally.

baekjin walked closer, greeting the kids who were focused on painting. then he approached you. he wasn’t in his usual slicked-back hairstyle or school uniform. instead, he had his hair down, clad in a black hoodie and sweatpants. looking more laid back. this was a version of baekjin you never saw or expected. he seemed warm and almost vulnerable.

“what are you doing here?” he asked, voice low.

“i volunteer on the weekends.” you answered, not meaning to sound so curt and uninterested, you bit the inside of your cheek.

as if baekjin understood, he nodded, “aren’t you gonna ask what i’m doing here?”

“i’m good at minding my own business,” you said while placing a paint brush down, “but if you want, you can tell me.”

baekjin chuckled, looking down, “i actually grew up here. so, i try to come every month to see how everyone’s doing.”

you bit your bottom lip to hide the expression of pity taking over your features. you had no clue baekjin was an orphan. always assuming that he came from an extremely rich household just because of the way carried himself. guilt hurtled towards you.

“i— i didn’t know that.” you finally spoke, turning away him his gaze.

“no one does.” he added, leaving you silent.

silence stretched between you as you helped the kids. while baekjin sat down on a bench, observing from afar with a soft glint in his eyes.

you came to sit next to him, handing him a sandwich wrapped in paper. he took it. a sigh escaped your lips.

“i made some sandwiches for the kids to have…thought i’d make an extra one for you to have.” you started.

“i appreciate it.” he thanked, “also i appreciate you giving me those cat bandaids a while ago.”

“y-you remember?” he nodded, showing you the bandaid wrapped around his pointer finger.

he went silent.

“do you only come once a month?” you broke the silence.

“yeah.” he nodded, “why?”

“the kids love you. you should come more often.” you disclosed, “and…it’s nice to talk to a familiar face.”

“i feel the same.” baekjin whispered, tone warming you up “i guess i could make more time.”

“then, will you come next weekend?” you perked up, excitement showing.

a smile plastered on his face seeing your reaction.

“i will…only if you’re there.” he indicated.

you hid a shy smile, turning the other way to hide your flustered face.

“i’ll be there.”

JUNTAE

juntae’s crush for you developed each day he saw you. yet the silence between you had left him hopeless. all he wanted to do was talk to you and get to know you.

he only knew you as his neighbor who went to a different school, wearing a different colored uniform. each morning, you exchanged shy greetings, walking opposite directions. each evening, you retired with a tired wave to him. and each day, you looked beautiful no matter your mood.

his feelings for you were so obvious, even his mother had teased him about it. urging him to send food over to your place when you were sick, only to have someone else open the door.

disappointed, juntae paced around his room, scheming and dreaming of how he’d make a move on you.

he came to nothing. you were shy but he was shy-er. there was not one interaction he thought of that would play out the way he wanted it too.

one rainy afternoon, your umbrella flipped inside out on your way home, and as you struggled to wrangle it upright in the wind, the door next to yours creaked open. juntae’s head popped up, large beady eyes taking in your drenched appearance.

juntae peeked out. “you’re… soaked.”

you blinked at him, water dripping off your nose. “I—i noticed.”

his eyes widened like he didn’t expect you to respond, and for a second, you thought he might just shut the door again out of pure panic. but instead, he disappeared inside—only to return seconds later holding a towel. he held it out to you with both hands, like it’s the most important peace offering in the world.

“thanks,” you said shyly, smiling as you took it.

he swallowed hard. “I, um… I also made too many hotteok. I was gonna freeze them but… do you want some?”

you were halfway through drying your hair when you glanced up at him. “uh…only if I get to help make them.”

he blinked. once. twice. “you… want to?”

“sure,” you said, looking side-to-side sheepishly. “sounds fun.”

he hadn’t expected you to agree so easily. relief and excitement washed over him.

juntae fumbled with the doorknob, muttering something like “o-okay, wait, I’ll bring the good pan,” before disappearing into the apartment again.

that evening, you sat cross-legged on his kitchen floor as he tried not to burn the syrup filling, and he was so flustered— every time your hands brushed that he nearly forgot to flip the pancake. too lost and too immersed in the way you sat so close to him, coy eyes watching him move so skillfully.

right before you left —full, warm, and still a little damp from the rain—he hesitated in the doorway. fiddling with his fingers. reciting in his head what he had been wanting to ask you since the day you moved in.

“I was wondering,” he started softly, looking down at his socks. “If maybe, you’d wanna go out sometime. like… not just next-door-neighbor hangouts. but, um. a date?”

you tilted your head, heart thudding. “r-really?.”

he looked up at you, eyes wide. nodding like a kid getting offered free candy.

you turned away awkwardly, scratching your arm, “I’d love to.” before bolting back to your apartment to giggle in excitement.

he could hear you through the thin wall.

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flareovium · 1 year ago

Text

"This peaceful little life."

Jiyan x GN! Reader

✧. Fluff? Mini-scenario? I don't know what possessed me to write this, really. I'm just in love with kurogames men LOL

Get up. Get ready. Go to work.

These were the average day to day activities for the General of Midnight Rangers. It was a routine that Jiyan was used to at this rate, something he could do with his eyes closed.

Of course, some would find his routine 'boring' or 'mundane', but what else was there to do? As the General, Jiyan had a lot on his plate.

That was until he met you.

Your relationship progressed at a slow pace, but with every little step, Jiyan found himself feeling surprised at the little activities that you would naturally add to his day.

It was quite refreshing. A welcome change of pace that certainly had him looking forward to the next progression in your relationship.

It didn't seem like it from the surface, but you for sure had the General wrapped around your pretty little finger.

With you his days felt so much more colorful, time feeling as if its slipping by in a blur.

Next thing he knew, Jiyan had a new routine to look forward to.

Wake up next to you in the early mornings, silently admiring your sleepy face before you both started your morning routine together, parting to head to work, only to be reunited hours later; Jiyan's personal favorite time of the day.

Then, he unwinds with you by his side, granting a brief moment of peace. His work is dangerous, hence he's grateful for any ounce of peace that you could have given him.

This life was warm. It was serene. It was good.

It was safe to say that for a moment, it felt like he had a peaceful little life with you by his side.

#wuthering waves #wuwa #jiyan #jiyan x reader #jiyan/reader #wuthering waves x reader #kuro games #wuwa x reader #fluff #wuthering waves fluff

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With an uncertain future, Bradley gets ready to leave for Virginia. But he works on a plan to make sure you understand just how much he will be thinking about you.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, adult banter, desperate Bradley, 18+

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley felt sick to his stomach as soon as he saw the stationery set. At this point, the only thing on his mind was quitting his job so the two of you didn't have to be separated. The paper looked expensive; he would have loved to sit in his bunk and write line after line to you and your class, but he wouldn't be able to do that at all.

"We can go back to being pen pals for a bit," you whispered, your hand coming to rest on his thigh, giving him a little squeeze. "I'll be refreshing my email inbox and waiting not so patiently for my mail to arrive. It'll be great. That's how I fell in love with you in the first place."

He felt guilty even though he had no control over the scenario. His heart hurt with loneliness already as he set the gift you gave him on the coffee table and buried his face in his hands. "Gorgeous. That's not gonna happen." He swallowed past the lump in his throat and turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm confused," you said, hand still on his leg. He covered your fingers with his rougher ones and pulled gently until you climbed onto his lap.

"Oh, god," he groaned, giving you a kiss before linking his fingers with yours. "I love that set of note cards. I would have taken them with me everywhere during my free time, and I would have written to your class constantly. And you would have been the recipient of some rambling love notes to be sure." Your brow was still creased with concern as he said, "No outside communication. For seven weeks."

Your expression went slack as a single tear rolled down your cheek. "You're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley held onto your fingers as you whispered, "This keeps getting worse," through more tears. Your broken voice made his chest ache as you leaned closer until your cheek was resting on his shoulder. "I could go ages without you in person, but if I can't talk to you at all... Bradley."

Nobody else ever loved him the way you did. He'd be miserable without your letters, emails, dirty pictures and pretty face over video calls, but he finally had someone who would miss him equally.

"I know," he muttered, wrapping his arms around you. "It's seven weeks of nothing."

You were crying in earnest now as you clung to him. "Nothing," you sobbed. "I won't even know if I'm supposed to collect you in San Diego or Norfolk when your deployment ends. And I won't know where you're being stationed."

"Fuck," he gasped. "Gorgeous, when I tell you that nobody would have much cared where I ended up before I met you, I mean it." He kissed you as you snuggled tighter against him. "As soon as I find out what's going on, I'll let you know."

"Seriously," you murmured, voice shaky. "You better tell me as soon as possible if it's San Diego or Norfolk in my future."

Bradley didn't know what else to say besides, "I fucking love you." He smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks as he added, "Are you really going to fly out to Norfolk and collect me if they make me stay in Virginia?"

You pulled away from him, eyes puffy with a scandalized look on your face as you said, "Of course. What kind of girlfriend do you think I am?"

The kind he was going to upgrade to his wife.

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

When you finally stopped crying, you were on the verge of a migraine, but you felt a bit calmer. Bradley got up to gather together some Advil, a glass of water, and a small gift wrapped in hideous paper.

"Your early Christmas present," he said, handing it to you after you swallowed two pills for your headache. "Well, it's actually kind of another gift for me, when you really think about it." He dropped down onto the couch again with his arm slung around your shoulders, and unlike him, you tore into the paper. Inside was a leather journal with little hand painted airplanes all over it. "Will you write in it every day so I can read it when I see you again?"

When you opened it to the first page, he had written you a note.

Gorgeous, I miss you with my whole heart. I can't wait to read about all of your adventures when I get home to you. Love, Bradley

"Yes," you whispered, closing it again so you could wrap your arms around his waist. "It'll just be a bunch of pages of me telling you how I argued with Jayden about his sloppy handwriting and how I asked Nia a hundred times to return to her seat. But yes, I'll write in it every day for you."

"I will eat up every page."

After that, he kept you by his side for the rest of the night. Even when you tried to dig around in the refrigerator to see if there was any food left, he was grabbing for you and kissing you. "You have no food," you said with a laugh, turning to face him. "What are we eating for dinner?"

"Hadn't thought that far," he muttered against your lips. "Just want you."

You took his face in your hands and ran your thumb along his scars. "If you don't eat, you'll get cranky. And you've got aircraft carrier food in your future."

Bradley grimaced and muttered, "Cabbage rolls," as he reached for his phone. "Let's get pizza today. And then maybe I'll try to talk the hostess at Salvatore's into letting us get takeout tomorrow. Then Thai on Christmas."

"And then you'll be gone," you whispered, dreading it all over again. "It never gets any easier, does it?"

"You're stuck with me, Gorgeous," he said, voice tinged with the tiniest bit of apprehension.

"I am." You kissed him before you said, "Pizza sounds perfect. Then I can help you pack a little more."

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

The last thing Bradley wanted to do was finish packing his duffle, but every time you looked up at him, eyes full of emotion, he was struck by several things. One, you really were so good at folding up his uniform components, something he noticed a few days ago. Two, every minute or so, you wrapped your arms around him, which made leaving with uncertainty so much harder. And three, you were absolutely nothing like Vanessa.

Last time when he packed to leave, he was treated to her incessant whining over the fact that he didn't want to take her out to dinner. She was always annoyed with him wanting a quiet night in. She was always annoyed by his job. It was so obvious that she never missed him or loved him the way you did as he watched you carefully fold one of his flight suits before tucking it in his bag.

"Gorgeous," he murmured, and as soon as your gaze met his, you had your arms wrapped around him again.

"That's enough for the night," you whispered, voice thick with emotion as he kissed the top of your head. Your face was pressed against his chest, and he could hear you trying to keep yourself calm. And god, he hated doing this to both of you.

"I agree," he replied, keeping you close while he tossed a few novels he'd been meaning to read in as well. He'd have plenty of time to read a whole stack.

You wiped your eyes on his shirt as you said, "Make sure you read at night and stay away from all the women."

Bradley tipped your chin up so you were looking at him again. "Surely you're not worried about that." You shook your head. "Good. But now that we're on the topic... be a good girl and don't talk to horny assholes."

You started laughing as you slipped out of his grasp, wiping at your tears as you said, "Never. Now let me add one more thing to your bag." As you disappeared from the bedroom, Bradley put his bag on the top of his dresser. If he had time, he would move some of his clothing around so you had room for your things when your lease was up. Otherwise you were going to have to fend for yourself in his house and just make decisions for him. If he just had more time with you, everything would be easier. The one promising thing would be returning in time for Valentine's Day and Career Day at your school. If he was allowed to come back to San Diego at all.

"Fuck," he groaned, hating this unsettled feeling that was expanding in his chest, but as soon as you walked back in, he started to feel better. Seven weeks without you was going to be painful when he had such a visceral reaction to your touch and your words.

"Just in case you feel like jotting down your own thoughts every day for me to read," you said before tucking the stationery kit in next to his uniforms. You slid a large envelope that looked like it was bursting at the seams inside as well and simply said, "Some more reading material for you," before pulling him toward the bed.

And that's when Bradley figured out just how to make you feel a little less alone when he was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

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

When you opened your eyes on Christmas Eve, you were already smiling. Your body was warm and tucked up against Bradley's, his big, heavy arm draped over you as he snored softly. You wanted to stay here and not move a muscle, because right now, everything was perfect. You could pretend like his duffle bag wasn't sitting on his dresser, mostly packed and ready to go. You could melt into the sweet ache deep inside from the hour he spent loving your body last night. You could close your eyes and go back to sleep.

Bradley's phone vibrated on his nightstand, and he groaned next to your ear. "Baby," he murmured, lips grazing your neck. "Don't get up yet."

You couldn't help but smile. "Your phone is vibrating. Not mine."

"Shit," he grunted, rolling away from you. Once he looked at his phone screen he seemed to wake up. "Nat's on her way to pick you up for girls' day."

"What are you talking about?"

You definitely hadn't planned a girls' day. Why would you want to miss out on any time with Bradley right now? You could have a day with Nat next week or next month when he was gone!

He had a little smile on his face as he pulled you close again for a kiss. "You better get dressed."

"Bradley! I'm not going out with Nat. You're leaving in two days!"

Naked and spectacular, he climbed out of bed and stretched. "Just for a bit. She wants to take you to get coffee, and if she tries to get me a Christmas present, I need you to make sure it doesn't suck."

"You planned this," you said, annoyed as he reached for you, pulling you away from the bed where you could pretend there was no scary uncertainty in your future.

"Just trust me," he whispered, holding you close. "Besides, I need some time to sweet talk someone at Salvatore's into letting me order dinner to-go."

You could handle an hour or two with his best friend while you counted down the time you had left before his flight out of San Diego. "Fine, but I'm wearing your sweatshirt, and I'll be thinking about you the whole time."

Bradley sent you down the walkway with a kiss, and he waved from the front door in just his underwear as you climbed into his best friend's car. "I won't keep you out too long," Natasha promised with a smirk. "I can already tell you want to get back to him."

"Why did he plan this?" you asked, wanting the answers he wouldn't give you while trying not to be rude. "No offense, because I would love to spend an entire girls' day with you, but why today?"

She simply turned up the Christmas songs on the radio and headed toward Starbucks with a smile on her face. "I was thinking after coffee we could hit up the mall for a few minutes? I need to find something truly awful to get for Bradley. I'm thinking some pink running shorts to match mine. High visibility colors are very important when you're out running, and I just don't think he fully appreciates that."

You laughed. "If you buy them, he'll probably just wear them to try to embarrass you."

"I don't embarrass easily," she said smoothly with a devilish grin. "And dare I say you might like to pick out a little something that you could wear as a going away treat?"

"Wear?" you asked before you quite knew what she meant.

"Sure. I mean, I don't want to know any specifics about what the two of you get up to, because gross, but deployments are long and lonely, and you're definitely going to miss each other."

While Bradley had seen all of your cutest underwear at this point, you'd never worn anything that you bought specifically with him in mind. Your cheeks grew warm as you thought about it. Truthfully you didn't even own anything terribly sexy.

"What would he even like?" you asked softly as she pulled into the Starbucks parking lot.

"On you?" she asked with a laugh. "Anything. Don't worry, we'll find something good."

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

When Natasha texted to inform him that you were on your way back to his house, Bradley quickly hid everything that had been out on his coffee table while he juggled his phone. The woman he was talking to on speakerphone wasn't falling for his lines at all.

"Listen," he told her, making sure there was no visible evidence of what he'd done in his living room. "I just really want tonight to be special for my girlfriend and I before I leave for my next deployment. Just one order of spaghetti and meatballs? That's all I'm asking."

There was a deep sigh followed by, "Be here promptly at 5:00 to pick it up. I'll take your credit card over the phone."

"Perfect," he replied with a smile, digging for his wallet. "The name is Bradley Bradshaw."

You walked in with shopping bags in your arms, and rushed toward him as he finished giving his credit card security code, and he pulled you in for a hug as he reassured the hostess from Salvatore's that he would be there at 5:00.

"Hi," he said, kissing you after he ended the call. "Did you have fun with Nat?

"So much fun," you told him with a smile. "We're going to try out a wine bar next week up in Oceanside." The idea of you hanging out with his friend while he was away made him feel calm, especially since Nat knew how important you were to him. "Also," you said, pressing your lips together nervously, "I think I'd like to sleep here for the rest of my winter break." Your volume dropped to a whisper. "I'm not sure if it will make me miss you more or less, but I want to be here if that's okay with you."

"I love that, Gorgeous," he replied easily. Hanging out with Natasha and then returning to his house where you belonged anyway felt right to him. "Knowing you're sleeping in my bed might result in some dirty notes from me," he said with a laugh as you bit your lip.

"Please," you whispered. "Yes. Write me dirty notes to read when you get back." Just when he was about to kiss you, he watched you bend and rummage around in a bag. "Also, this is your gift from Natasha." You handed him some bright pink fabric that he turned around in his hands, trying to figure out what it was. "And she told me to hold up the gift receipt for you."

When he finally figured out that it was a pair of ladies running shorts, he grimaced. "She's so annoying," he groaned, reaching for the gift receipt, but you quickly chuckled and tore it up. "What are you doing?"

"You're not allowed to return them." You dropped the bits of paper, and he tossed the shorts onto the couch.

"Whose side are you on here?" he asked, peppering your face with kisses. "Don't think for a second I won't just put a jock strap on and run in those shorts."

"I tried to tell her you would," you laughed as he scooped you up. "I kind of want to see it."

"Play your cards right," he murmured, grabbing his keys and taking you out to his Bronco. "Let's pick up dinner."

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

Your belly was full of spaghetti and meatballs when you managed to sneak away to the tiny laundry room and quickly hand wash your new bra and thong set while Bradley loaded the dishwasher. Nat assured you that he would enjoy this tiny thing, and you were trusting her here. You set both items aside to dry before walking back out to the kitchen.

"You don't have a Christmas tree," you remarked, wishing you'd picked one up today from one of the many parking lots trying to unload them at the last minute.

"I told you I don't really celebrate holidays."

"You're doing a great job of celebrating this one."

He washed his hands and tossed the towel aside. It was barely seven o'clock, but he asked, "You feel like calling it an early night?" You agreed, ready to feel his warmth along your entire body as you fell asleep.

You got undressed and climbed in bed, and he did the same. Bradley's hands were everywhere, but his lips were gentle on your neck and shoulder as he whispered your name. "I love you. It's going to kill me inside when I can't talk to my favorite pen pal. Last time, you had my heart pounding every time you sent me a new email."

Tears stung your eyes in the darkness; you'd done a pretty good job of holding it together all day, but this was going to be your undoing. "I promise, every time you think about me, I'll already be thinking about you, too."

Bradley's arm tightened around you, his thumb stroking your skin, soothing you along with his sweet words as you fell asleep.

When you woke up on Christmas Day, his body was still right behind yours where he belonged, but when you rolled over to look at his handsome face, you knew the hours were going to go by too quickly. "Morning, Gorgeous," he murmured, voice raspy from sleep as he cracked his eyes open. "Let's go see what Santa brought."

You didn't have any other gifts for him, unless you counted your new lingerie which you were saving for later after dinner. And the printer you bought so he could have some photos of you without his phone on the aircraft carrier. But when you got out to the living room, there was an envelope on the coffee table.

"What is it?" you asked cautiously as you picked it up. But your heart melted immediately. It was a gift card for the wine bar in Oceanside.

"There's enough on there for you and Nat to take a few trips up if you like the place."

"The two of you have been plotting, I see," you remarked, taking a deep breath before snuggling up against his chest. "But nothing will beat the horribly expensive bottle of wine I accidentally made you buy on our second date."

Deep laughter rumbled through Bradley's chest as he said, "The look on your face just made me love you more." You groaned thinking about it. "Come on, we've only got one day left and then seven weeks of nothing. Let's make French toast and have sex on the couch and eat Thai food and watch movies."

You wore his sweatshirt around all day, licked maple syrup from his lip and rode him until he was whining for you. The Thai noodles went perfectly with Home Alone. Then you took a shower together and deep conditioned his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp until his eyes closed.

"I'm going to miss this," he whispered after every single thing you did. When you toweled his hair dry, he looked at you with so much emotion. "I'm going to call you as soon as I know what's going on with the Pacific versus Atlantic Fleet. And either way, I'll try to be as patient as I possibly can, but I can't live without you, Baby."

"Bradley."

"Shit. Even the way you say my name makes me ache."

"I want you here with me. I already hate this." A sob escaped your lips without warning. "I want you to come back for Career Day."

The words were barely out of your mouth before he said, "I will be here for Career Day no matter what. Disappointing you is bad enough, but I don't want the eighteen kiddos to miss out on spending the day with their favorite Naval officer."

You laughed. "You're not disappointing me, Bradley. This is just hard, because I love you so much."

If you couldn't see a future with him, this would have been easier. He set you down on the bathroom vanity, and you watched him carefully shave around his mustache, kissing you randomly so you had to wipe shaving cream from your nose, and then he started collecting his toiletries for his duffle bag. He was naked and perfect as you stayed huddled in your towel, wondering if you could even manage to pull off wearing the items that were surely dry now and draped over his laundry room sink.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you ducked past him toward the door.

"Meet me in bed."

You rushed down the hallway and threw your towel in the empty washing machine as you took a minute to touch the pretty lace fabric before sliding the thong up your legs. Next you hooked the bra in place, and it didn't matter if you didn't look perfect, because you felt good. And you wanted him to have this memory.

When you cautiously strolled into the bedroom, Bradley was still naked, laying on top of the bedding, looking at a small piece of paper. "I'm just double checking my packing list, and I..." His gaze shifted to your body, and you did a little turn for him. The paper drifted to the floor as he sat up, his hand coming to rest on his cock. "Come here."

Biting your lip, you did as you were told. Bradley's feet swung over the edge of the bed, coming to rest on the floor as his cock bobbed between his thick thighs. "Here I am," you whispered, standing between his knees with your hands on his shoulders. "Your going away gift."

One strong arm wrapped around you, and you squeaked as he pulled you flush against him. He kissed the rounded tops of your breasts above your new bra, one after the other before looking up at you. "What did I do to deserve this?" he rasped, his nose running along the lace as his fingers tangled in your thong.

Already so turned on, you tried to answer him twice before words came out. "I wanted to give you a proper send off. Something extra special." Then he kissed your furled nipples through the flimsy bra cups and you moaned, "Something to think about when you're lonely."

His fingers were digging into your butt as he grunted. His wide brown eyes were fixed on your face as he parted his lips and sucked on your breast, the black lace wet everywhere now. He was being a little rough, but it felt like he was worshipping you at the same time, and when his lip found your neck, he asked, "Is this little getup new?"

"I bought it yesterday," you gasped as his fingers slipped inside your thong, stroking your wet pussy. "Just for you."

Then you were on your back with your head on the pillow, Bradley's heavy cock resting against your thigh as he hovered over you. "Just for me, huh?" he grunted, biceps flexed as he fought to keep his breathing under control.

You nodded, running your toes up along his calf and thigh until your leg was hooked around his hip, ready to give him whatever he wanted. "Of course it's just for you. I'll wear it again when we meet back in the San Diego airport or in Norfolk. And I'll wear it when you're away and I'm touching myself."

"Fuck," he growled, pulling your panties to the side and running his cock through your wetness before pushing himself so deep inside you that it took your breath away. When you whimpered, his lips crashed against yours as his hands dug beneath you to unhook your bra. "Touch yourself right now." When the flimsy lace ended up on the floor while Bradley fucked you, he guided your right hand to his lips, kissing your fingertips before placing them on your breast. "I want to watch."

Bradley's pupils were wide, lips parted. When you looked down your body as his cock disappeared inside you over and over again, you felt even more turned on. When you ran your fingers along your nipple and up between your bouncing breasts, his eyes followed your every move. "Like this?" you asked, feeling bold as you added your left hand as well.

He gave you a harder thrust. "Exactly like that, Gorgeous. And what are you going to think about when you do?"

"My boyfriend," you managed before his mouth met yours in a deep kiss that only lasted a few seconds. "I'm going to think about my boyfriend. I'll miss you so much."

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

Bradley's hips slowed to a gentler pace as he listened to you gasping and panting beneath him. There was no way you'd miss him as much as he'd miss you. He closed his eyes and thought about returning home to your arms in seven weeks and heading back to work in the Pacific Fleet. He hoped you'd appreciate the little surprises he was leaving behind for you. More than anything he wanted you to think about tonight when you got yourself off.

His rough excitement at you in the new lingerie melted into something sweeter as he fucked you with long, languid strokes. Your lips were on his neck and collarbones as he whispered how much he loved you over and over. When you came, it escalated quickly, sudden and loud as he ran his thumb across your clip. He couldn't hold on after that, and he let your body hold him in place with soft squeezes as he caught his breath.

"I have one more thing for you to pack," you whispered, voice ragged as you ran your fingers through his hair.

"I really hope you fit in my duffle," he mused, and you laughed softly.

You kissed his ear and whispered, "I bought a small photo printer since you won't be able to use your phone." He shivered at your words. "You can print out a photo or two of us together... or maybe you want to take a new one right now to print out?"

"Jesus," he grunted, kissing your lips. "You're spoiling me." He reached for his phone on the nightstand and snapped a few pictures of your fucked out face and your body with his cock still buried deep. "I am very spoiled."

When you stood and plugged in the printer with lips puffy from his mustache in just your thong, he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had his photo gallery open on his phone and his arm around your waist as he selected the picture you sent him ages ago with the sun setting behind you. "This one is an absolute necessity. So is this one of us together. I don't think I should take any with me where you're naked, just to be safe," he mused, and you threw your arms around him.

"You'll just have to use your imagination," you told him as the photos printed.

"That'll be easy with this fresh in my mind," he murmured, looking down at your tits pressed to his chest. "I'll be thinking about you nonstop."

Bradley's hold on your body was unrelenting as he dropped the photos into his duffle and led you back to bed. It was getting late, and his flight to Virginia was early. You snuggled up on his chest with a soft smile on your lips. "I hope you do. I hope you think about me constantly and write me notes."

He kissed your forehead. "Not just you... your whole class. Have to keep them interested in aviation. But you're my favorite pen pal."

You laughed and buried your face against his neck, and he could feel your breathing grow a little more ragged as you whispered, "I love you so much. Just be safe. I don't really care if we have to figure out long distance or relocation as long as you're safe, Bradley."

That's how he fell asleep, wrapped up in your arms with your sweet sentiments in his ear. And the next morning, when his alarm went off, he welcomed your tears, because they made him feel like he was important to a woman for the first time in his life. You cried softly as you sat on his lap and went over his packing list with him one more time, and your cheeks were wet as you kissed him.

Bradley let you button up his khaki uniform shirt for him, your fingers shaking as you smoothed down the fabric along his chest. "Thank you, Gorgeous," he whispered, watching helplessly as your face crumbled into more tears.

When he drove the Bronco to the airport, your fingers were linked with his in the silence as the light from the rising sun hit the buildings downtown, promising to bring another perfect day to southern California. His hand tightened around yours, knowing he was going to be flying into so much uncertainty. His voice sounded strangled to his own ears as he parked at the curb under the signage for departing flights. "This is it. I'll text and call you as much as I can when I land before they lock me down, but this is it for seven weeks."

You crawled onto his lap, holding him tight as he kissed you, and now his tears mingled with yours. "I love you, Bradley," you promised, and he believed you as he held you in his arms and climbed down onto the pavement. He pulled his duffle from the backseat and dropped it to the curb as he held you against him, unwilling to leave before he told you a few more things.

"I'll keep myself safe, but you need to do the same. If you need something, you call Natasha right away, okay?" You nodded against him, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. "My stuff is your stuff, so do whatever you want at the house and with my Bronco. And tell me you love me every day in the journal so I can read about it when I see you."

"I will," you sobbed as he finally set you down. "And I'll be waiting to hear you tell me if it's San Diego or Norfolk."

He swiped your tears away from your cheeks and kissed you one last time before he picked up his bag and headed for the door. When he turned back one last time, you were clutching his car keys and crying. "I love you, Gorgeous."

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

We'll see how they manage apart. I think she might do a bit better than Bradley will. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

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762 notes · View notes

lyssakinzzz · 2 months ago

Note

Fluffy Remmick taking care of you during a paticularly rough shark week, you know like running you hot baths, warming up your pjs for you to wear after you bathe or shower, maybe gifting you a plushie, a bat squishmallow of sorts to cheer you up? Maybe getting ya chocolate🥹🩷🦇🙏🥺

I'm going through a shark week and I need some comfort!🥺

YESSS MY SHARK WEEKS IN 14 DAYS THIS SHIT IS NEEDED

Housewife remmick bc...yes. a lil inspiration from the shade between us when drunk remmick got Estelle eggs from across town @astoldbyaja.

Warnings: nothing, remmicks hands on you tummy to relieve cramps. (I prefer cold on it then hot..sorry.) Vampy reader (bc I'm writing this for my partner in smut @snuggle-fangs DUHHH) a bit of Btvs laws rn (if a vampire alr let in it can forever enter unless you cast a spell revoking their rights to enter)

Remmick was ecstatic to find out you were on your period. The second he smelt your monthly, he was already at the door peering in, like an axe murderer from a horror movie. Just waiting for you to allow him a taste, his crimson eyes wide, like the ones of a begging child.

However, when he heard you whining, and thrash around under the covers, as he heard Christopher Lee's deep voice illuminating the messy, but cozy bedroom. He frowned, and slowly crept into the room.

"Awe, im s'sorry, love?" He tutted as he sat at the edge of the bed, stroking your soft legs from bellow the cover, he kissed your décolleté area, affectionately and gently, as he sniffed the scent of perfume on your pressure point. You whined cuddling into him as he pressed his icy hands on your warm tummy, giving you a little massage while slowly kissing your shoulder and shushing you.

His frozen body, was extremely refreshing to you, especially in the heat of the summer season. He watched the movie with you as he moved counter clock wise on your tummy, you calmed down a bit, and exhaled. After the movie finished he got up, and went to the master bathroom, nonchalantly, as you flicked through to find something else to watch, you body ached without your glacial lover holding you, you sighed as you turned up the volume, masking the loud sound of the water gushing into the tub.

Around 10 or so minutes later, he steps out and leads you to the bathroom. You look down to see the tub filled with bubbles and roses and it reeked of your favourite body products. You smiled as you kissed him on the cheek and peeled off your clothes, as soon as you sunk into the bath he kissed your forehead.

"Now, I'm bout to run a few errands. Be back in a jiffy." He whispered lowly as he left the bathroom, you sunk into the bath and inhaled the deep scent. You relaxed as you looked at the little set up, Remmick made you. The wooden board laid flat as it supported a laptop, snacks, and tea.

You smiled, you loved your little housewife of a husband, Remmick.

After you were satisfied you drained the water to find fresh, silk pajamas nice and toasty for you, a pad already in your underwear waiting for you to just put it on. Your man made sure you were playing life on easy mode, since you've married him. You smiled as you put on your pajamas and smelt the freshly washed blankets and sheets, you let out a little giggle as you saw an old princess blanket underneath, to prevent the mattress from messing up.

Now, what does Remmick know about the princess blankets.

You shook your head before cuddling underneath the sheets as you waited for Remmick, it was rainy and you were a little worried. You bit your lip, as you conjured up the worst possible scenarios to happen. You heard the sound of keys jingling and exhaled. He was back. You heard him cough a bit, and bags crinkle.

He ran to the bedroom, looking like he just went through a typhoon, you cocked your head as you inhaled sharply looking at him, he was in bad shape. He set the bags down, and handed you a bar of chocolate.

They didn't have that brand at your local grocery store. At all.

"Baby?"

"Hm?"

"Where'd you get this?" You questioned examining the bar of sweetened cacao.

"Oh, I drove downtown." He said changing out of his wet clothes, shivering slightly, your eyes widened as you played with your new bat squishmello.

"Pardon?" You said in disbelief, he just looked at you like it was nothing.

You smiled as he got closer to the bed, you pulled him in by his shirt and kissed him. He smiled kissing back, crawling on top of you a bit. You giggled, as he jokingly took little bites of you. Like a parent playing with their child. You smiled kissing his soft lips.

"You know, it pains me how much pain you feel durin' your monthly sweetheart." He frowns, massaging your belly once more. "You know, I have a deal to cut with you, I can make it dissappear for 9 months, maybe longer I'd your willin' but with a few gaps. You could be having the menstrual cycle of a medieval lady, honestly. No strings attached." He said nibbling on your shoulder. You giggled and pushed him away.

"It's fine...not everyone accepts good deals." He whispered, before sitting up.

#sinners #ryan coogler #remmick #remmick x black!reader #remmick x reader #black reader #remmick x fem!reader #remmick fluff #fluff #remmick x you #remmick smut #remmick x reader smut

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ozzgin · 11 months ago

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The Yanderes and their jealousy: Monster Edition

You just got a new fictional obsession. Whether it's TikTok thirst traps, reader insert stories or shameless fanart, you've been glued to your phone for the past days and the yanderes have certainly noticed. Featuring my monster OCs (with links to their stories) Content: gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW

Zzy [Yandere!Demon x Gloomy!Reader]

The goat rascal is fuming, clacking his hooves back and forth against the ceiling, grimacing every time he stares at your dumb expression. What're you gawking at? You have the Demon Lord himself at your feet, the one and only horned charmer who slept with half the Devils in Hell.

"What're ya blushing at, dumb human? I could fuck you ten times better in this very moment", he barks with an envious frown.

Depending on how long you plan on ignoring him, he might just rip that phone out of your hands and drag you to the nearest surface to slam you on. See if you still care about that nonsense when you're fucked dumb.

Daos [Yandere!Werewolf x Reader]

Mysterious. Usually you'll curl up in his lap whenever he's reading his evening book, yet for the past few days you've been off, giggling at your phone from the other side of the sofa.

Fictional crushes don't bother him much. If anything, he's mildly amused by your focused gaze and dreamy state. Why should he concern himself with hypothetical scenarios? As it currently stands, you're his, and nothing could ever change that.

Tonight, he tucks you in bed and kisses your forehead. You admit, embarrassed, that you've been a little scatterbrained lately.

"Oh, I may have just the cure for it", he suggests with a knowing grin, sliding his large, clawed hand between your legs.

Digital Monster [Yandere!Internet Monster x Reader]

Nuh uh, strictly forbidden. It won't even happen to begin with. Whatever improper video you may plan on watching will be swiftly erased from your sight.

"What the...why won't the page load?" you whine, refreshing every few seconds and angrily tapping your phone.

A static voice erupts from your speakers, startling you.

"Utterly illogical, (Y/N). I have all the means to satisfy you myself. All you need to do is ask."

Monster Author [Yandere!Monster Author x Reader]

Sacrilege! Oh, the humiliation. What are you even doing, reading someone else's cheap fiction. No, no, no, absolutely not. If you were in the mood to read erotic literature, you should've just asked him. He could write a better story on the spot, without any effort.

"Have you forgotten who you're dealing with, (Y/N)?", he laments, pointing his monstrous appendages towards the shelves filled with trophies and awards.

Even better, he can show you, first hand. You don't need to flip any page for that kind of experience.

Demon King [Yandere!Demon King x Reader]

"Are you not enjoying yourself, Sir?" one servant meekly asks, glancing at his master.

They've conquered yet another world, and its inhabitants presently squirm and burn before their eyes. Normally he would take great pleasure in observing their torment, yet the King is distracted.

"Pathetic", the grand Duke suddenly exclaims, his deep voice rumbling across the hills. He pulls out a small device - a human invention, seemingly - and tilts it towards the beastly butler. It's a video edit of a fictional character, playing on repeat on the small phone screen.

"What's there of such entertainment?" he asks, defeated. "(Y/N) has been obsessing over this pest for an entire week. I'm at my wit's end. I cannot destroy what does not exist."

A pressing dilemma indeed. How does one obliterate an enemy from the realm of imagination?

Asylum Spider [Yandere!Asylum Spider x Reader]

The poor creature has no idea what's happening. He smiles, oblivious, lounging above your relaxed body, suspended from his spider appendages. He cannot see whatever has you squirming in delight.

"Is nice?" he mumbles between the sharp teeth, trying to join your activity.

"Oh, it's..." you stop yourself, glancing up. "...It's just a funny video."

You don't have the heart to be honest. You audibly tap your legs, and the creature lowers itself into your embrace. If you're happy, he's happy.

As long as you don't leave him.

[Monster Masterlist]

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere monster #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #yandere oc #monster oc #asylum spider #zzy #daos #monster author #yandere demon king #yandere computer

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revelboo · 9 months ago

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I am absolutely in love with how you write both soundwave and starscream! I keep refreshing my tab looking for scraps XD

Aww, thanks!

Everything Is Alright Pt 42

Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Anxiety spinning him tight, he follows as Soundwave leads him back to his own quarters. Scenarios run through his processor as his servos flex. Attack and try to get you away from Soundwave. Assuming the communications officer hasn’t already tipped off Megatron, because surely he’d have heard it by now, he might be fast enough to snag you, but then what? Where can he go with you? And what if you’re hurt during the struggle? “Stop,” Soundwave growls as he lets himself into Starscream’s quarters as easily as if they’re his own. The slight not going unnoticed.

• Actively listening in on Starscream isn’t particularly pleasant, the other mech’s thoughts are a churning miasma of doubt, worry, and hatred chasing each other. The Seeker’s wings flick slightly at the order as he follows Soundwave inside, the door closing after to keep anyone from overhearing. “Give me my pet, right now,” Starscream growls, a hand held out, servos and wings faintly trembling despite the vehemence in his tone. Any wrong word or move and the SIC is liable to lash out like a cornered animal, risking you sleeping peacefully inside his cassette compartment.

• “Pet,” Soundwave echoes him, the communications officer eerily still as he presses a palm against his chassis where you’re hidden from view, the gesture almost protective. Infuriating. “There is no pet.” That tonal voice a growl of challenge. An admonishment and Starscream goes still as he realizes his act isn’t fooling Soundwave. Baring his denta, he wonders how long the communications officer has been rooting around in his processor. How much he’s seen. Enough to know you’re more than a pet, but does he know the rest yet? The things he wants? Needs? He remembers Soundwave bringing you things. Taking you to keep with him over and over. Like he might care what happens to you. Like you’re more than a novelty to him, too.

• “What do you think will happen if I just take my human back by force?” Starscream asks, raspy voice deepening with anger. “I’m sure that would draw a lot of attention.” A threat. One Soundwave knows the other mech won’t dare act on. “There’s nothing wrong with the current status quo. With sharing.” The look on the Seeker’s face clearly at odds with his own words, that hand still out in demand, servos slightly curled up, that tremor so faint it’s almost unnoticeable. Almost. Sharing might be acceptable, splitting your time between them. He can feel you inside his cassette compartment, a little spot of warmth as your sleeping mind washes into him in soft, almost reassuring waves. Feeling right.

• “Sharing acceptable,” Soundwave finally decides, before pointedly pushing past him. “Mine now,” he adds over his shoulder as Starscream’s wings flare out aggressively. But what can he do short of chasing the communications officer down the hall and tackling him. As tempting as it is, he grits his denta, waits until he’s sure Soundwave is far enough away to seize his chair from his desk and sling it across the room. Wings and hands shaking and no real outlet for all that frustration. Sharing what’s his? Never.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #idw starscream #soundwave x reader #idw soundwave

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sunnyware-inc · 3 months ago

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☆ COD Characters with actual literal ghost!Reader ☆

Σ(°△° ꪱꪱꪱ)

☆ I wanted a silly scenario for my first post, I promise I'll also write normal stuff too ☆ Reader is GN ☆

☆ ft: Gaz, Ghost, Roach, Nikto ☆

☆ Ghosts work differently for each scenario, please don't question it ☆

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Kyle knew he was being haunted. He had been for years. His only regret was that you'd died at all, that he had to bury his best friend, his sweetheart. But once you'd managed to crawl back to haunt him? He was surprised by how easily he could fall into a new dynamic with you. Then again, everything with you was easy.

"Babe, you know I look crazy talking to myself?" Gaz stood seemingly alone with a drink, muttering under his breath to someone only visible to himself.

You floated closer to him, devious smirk on your face, "Maybe you are crazy."

"Nice try, love." He managed a chuckle, but in truth, sometimes he did wonder. The grief had hit him hard, part of him feared that one day he'd find out you were only a daydream. A wonderful, beautiful, pestering daydream.

"It's a new haunting strategy I'm working on. It's called gaslighting. You like it?"

He scrunched his nose, "Not really."

"I'm sorry..." Your ghostly hands cupped his face, making him shiver. It was reassuring to him. He could feel you. Make sure you're real.

Still, he continued to frown. Slowly, he raised his straw to his mouth and took a drink, never breaking eye contact with you.

"So cruel!" You gasped. "You know I miss my favourite drink."

He raised his voice, looking away from you, "Mm, this tastes so good. I'm all alone, enjoying a lovely refreshing beverage. It tastes like..."

He savoured the sweet contact of your fists in his shirt, even if you playfully called him a heartless monster.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Simon's had to work in some shocking offices over the year but this was ridiculous. He could understand why the room was abandoned, ignoring the fact it had half burned down years ago. The uncontrollable chill (even when he'd shut all the windows) he could handle. He could even ignore the light occasionally flickering (even when he'd changed the bulb). But it was pretty bloody hard to work when his reports kept getting thrown across the room. Doubly so when the door locked, preventing him from leaving at all. So by the time night had fallen, revealing the ghostly form of a person? He wasn't in the best mood.

"Just what I fucking need, a fucking ghost. You'd better let me out this room or-"

He stopped when his brain had finally caught up with his mouth and realised he should've been scared. But he couldn't bring himself to be. You just looked so... sad?

"I'm sorry... Nobody's talked to me for so long..." your voice warbled, like you hadn't spoken in years. "I just wanted to be seen for once..."

And fuck, didn't he understand the feeling? He looked you over silently, taking in your shaky form. "Tell me your name."

You whispered it, then again to make sure it was heard. "I'll unlock the door, I'll stop throwing papers. But please stay at night?"

And he did. Every evening, he'd make sure to spend some time with you, alleviating your lonliness. In return, he began to feel your presence during the day. You shelved files for him, your hands sometimes brushed his own, he began to even notice the small indents of pillows when you sat down. Despite the paranormal nature of your relationship, he found himself feeling safe, reassured even relaxed. It was nice, knowing someone was around to look out for him, who wanted his company in return.

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

You couldn't help but admire the quiet chaos brought about by Gary. When you'd found him alone, you had to reveal yourself.

You stumbled your way through an introduction, despite his obvious shock. Once he'd relaxed, you managed to start a conversation. The revelation that you knew BSL brought an immediate smile to his face (and you congratulated yourself internally for impressing him). You hadn't expected to appreciate his company so much but it was nice, having someone finally sit and listen to you ramble. Plus, his own enthused rambling was endearing to you.

But eventually it was down to business. His mischief with your supernatural power? You two were unstoppable. Nobody went unterrorised, he learned how to push target's buttons and you pushed them until you were both in stitches.

You also loved to spend time with him, just around him. And he never complained, happy to feel your presence beside him in a room full of people. Of course, sometimes that was to watch your schemes unfold. But he happily leaned further into your spirit while MacTavish screamed at the cockroach that found its way onto his head.

You figured he'd make a good ghost. You just hadn't expected it to happen so soon. For the first time since your death, you felt sick when you saw his spirit rise from the ashes that should've been your favourite mortal. He looked upset, of course he was, death was never easy to experience. Wordlessly, he stumbled over to you, unstable in his new form. You pulled him closer as he buried his head in your shoulder. He returned the gesture, hugging you tighter as new tried to come to terms with his new reality.

Nikto

It's official then, he's insane. More than everyone else already said. How else could he explain seeing a figure floating above his bed?

"Away. We aren't crazy yet."

You pouted, "But you looked lonely."

His jaw clenched at that, "We are fine. We do not need an imaginary friend."

"I'm not imaginary. Just dead." You explained, "And now I'm haunting you."

Nikto continued to protest, to ignore you, but you wouldn't leave. And your version of haunting was a lot like just hanging out.

Nikto stalked the empty practice range, grumbling after your incessant company caused him to make another imperfect shot.

"Do not distract me." His hand waved you away again, a favourite gesture of his.

"I'm just trying to see how you do it."

"Do you have nobody else who wants to see you?"

That made you pause. Finally, silence. It was unsettling.

You finally spoke up, "What, like friends? Not really..."

He sighed, tone softening a bit, "Then be quiet, or I will find a way to remove you."

"An exorcism? Please, anything but that!"

"Then quiet."

He managed to focus once you'd been threatened into silence. A perfect shot.

"You may speak now."

"Nice shot! Go Nikto!"

That finally got a chuckle out of him. "Thank you." He smiled at you, eyes meeting your own. He'd never admit it, but your company was a balm to him. If you really were just another reflection of his fractured mind, at least you made him feel less alone. Made him feel happy.

#first tumblr fic ee hope you like #cod x reader #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #roach x reader #nikto x reader

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suksatoru · 16 days ago

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fav writers??

*cracks knuckles* let's go nonnie 😎

@sinsxo — cherry's works are genuinely so unique and refreshing for me to read (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ i feel like i have a very niche and particular taste for writing, but all of her bluelock works are so interesting and exciting. i also love the way she writes love!! she is so talented and her blog feels like the cozy corner of a dimly lit library—safe, warm, and hazy like a dream you never want to wake up from 😴 her stories are detailed as heck too, go check her out!! 🥰

@sevarchive — NAT'S WORKS ARE SO FUNNY & AMAZING AHSH!! she has a very wide range when it comes to what she can write — sometimes she posts crack fics that make me laugh until my stomach hurts and other times she writes things that break my heart into a million pieces and bring TEARSSS to my eyes 🥹 if you want a bluelock writer who brings a variety of stories to your dash, check nat out!!

@xoxojisu — jisu is SUCH a sweet soul. i love her writing, it's so soft and lovely and i feel like i'm on a cloud breathing the same air as the stars themselves when i read her works (..◜ᴗ◝..) i specifically love the way she writes katsuki (a character i struggle to write sometimes because he is so complicated to capture!) but she does it effortlessly! kudos to you, my lovee <3

@bloomseishiro — BLOOM WRITES THE CUTEST PIECES EVER!! i genuinely love her blog, it's a breath of fresh air. think about how full of life and love you'd feel when you walk into a field of flowers—the feeling is similar to how i feel when i see bloom post :) every time i finish reading one of her works, whether it's an smau or written (both equally amazing), my heart always feels a little less heavy (╥﹏╥) ♡ her blog is genuinely such a positive place and i feel so blessed when i see her on my dash :)) thank u for being u, bloom!!

@rosierin — ahh rosie is one of my fav haikyuu writers ever!! she has a series revolving around suna and the miya twins, and it's definitely an all time favorite of mine <3 found family is one of my favorite things to read about (gentle intimacy, love between friends, i love it dearly!!), and rosie writes it amazingly! please check out her works, she is so very talented 🥲💞

@crushmeeren — crush is a dear friend of mine with the heart of an angel, truly (∩˃o˂∩)♡ she has such a plentiful masterlist from so many good animes, and her writing is top tier!! i find myself giggling like a lovesick idiot at her works too 🫣 but alas, that's just the power some writers hold over us!! crush currently has requests open, so i would most definitely recommend checking them and her works out!! :D

@eremikayearner — NEVE where can i even begin,,, her writing is the most beautiful and whimsical thing i have ever come across. it's something plucked straight out of a fairytale, and she writes so cleverly, with the cutest scenarios ever i must add, and i admire her so so much! she's an angel and i hope she never stops writing (greedy of me to say, i know 😞) but her works are genuinely heaven sent! neve also has such good takes on characters and i love how intricately she dives into the psyche of them and reveals their innermost disposition so magically with her words. she is truly such a talented writer 🥹

@chevxyn — chev has such an amazing take on bluelock characters!! i love her writing, and she covers so many emotions so wonderfully. seriously, my whole face lights up when i see her on my dash because she is SUCH a sweetheart with so much talent and passion and i really, truly, with all my heart, ADORE how authors like chev write. they write the sweet bliss that comes with love and the aches that come with heartbreak ❤️‍🩹 please check chev out! she's so very cool :))

@shigarakislaughter — KISAA! they are so talented and SO enthusiastic when it comes to tomura, and although their opinions and thoughts on him make me GIGGLE like a madman, i really admire how well they appreciate and understand heavily misunderstood characters. it's very easy for people nowadays to reduce complicated people to problem people instead, but i think kisa's ability to find the real good in characters is just one show of how great they are. kisa is also very silly and their blog is genuinely such a safe place, and positive energy like theirs is truly amazing! thank you for being you kisa, never stop ☺️

@seneon — sennieeee my cutie patootie... her writing is so intricate and beautiful it genuinely takes my breath away. her imagery?? absolutely FLAWLESS. i love her recent takes on the saja boys especially AHSHS she's actually the reason i even watched k pop demon hunters!! i needed to know more about them after reading her works, she's just that good :) soo please check her out!! sennie's vibe is eerie and creepy and so so cool you may just fall in love with her! be careful! :pp

@b3ach-bunn7 — NIA NIA NIA!! i am such a fan of her and her works. she writes bnha characters so naturally and the unspoken affection she writes so delightfully is something i eat up EVERY. TIME. if you're a fellow touya/dabi enthusiast like myself, i would most definitely check nia out!! that and her shinso fics... they are so good. SO good. she is THE shinso writer, and that is final! ily and your writing to saturn and back, nia :))

@rueclfer — RUEE is the coolest! their bnha works are top tier and evoke so many emotionsss akjdhjkdh. i think it's rare to find writers on this app that explore so many characters so deeply, but just by looking at rue's masterlist, you can see how many amazing pieces there are on so many characters :D rue's blog is also a place everyone can be themselves, mainly since rue matches your energy every time, and i think that's one of the reasons i believe they're the coolest :))

@augustinewrites — augustine mainly captured my heart with her fushigojo works :) she is definitely one of my FAVORITE jjk writers and i adoree how well she understands satoru's character. he is genuinely one of my favorite anime characters ever, but he is so complicated it makes my brain hurt sometimes (っ◞‸◟ c) augustine is the only writer i know who writes him so phenomenaly, so please check out her blog!! it's a hidden treasure, i promise <3

@kingtomura — lou is genuinely so endearing to me. her works are STUNNING and so raw it's like getting a hammer to the heart every time i read something by her. a lot of bnha fics are very fluffy and happy (mine especially) mainly because that's the overall vibe of the anime and a way to cope, but lou dips into the parts most writers don't dare to venture into, the ugly and sad aspects we usually don't want to acknowledge, and she spins the sadness into something more than bearable and undeniably beautiful. i really love her writing, so please give her blog a look if you want your heart to be shattered and stitched back together by her lovely hands :)

@itoshiexx — ONE OF MY FAVORITE ITOSHI RIN WRITERS. EVER. TO EXISTT!! lena's works are touching in a way that makes you feel every emotion she conveys with her writing. her soul is beautiful and i know this because i can FEEL it! she's sunshine incarnate and also living proof that even in tough times, you are still loved. her works flesh out the sad parts of life and provide the same comfort as a hug from your favorite person. she is so so soo talented and i wish nothing but shooting stars and rainbows for her :) 💛 i love you!

i want to emphasize this list is in no particular order, i simply scrolled through my following and wrote down all the writers who have really had a genuinely positive impact on me (ᵕ—ᴗ—) this is also a great way to show my appreciation for my fav creators on here so!! yay!! :D i'll add onto this list as life goes on, because i'm sure there's even more wonderful people i haven't had the pleasure of stumbling upon yet. thank you all for creating life with your art :) <3

#u guys are the coolest and deserve infinite love (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ !#❤︎ ; bee babbles #✉︎ ; bee's box

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petertingle-yipyip · 11 days ago

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RAIN CHECK - BILLY RUSSO

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 2,408

Summary: STEM fields tend to be exhausting to study. At least your boyfriend is pretty and supportive when you unintentionally blow him off. (wrote this specifically bc @see-the-divine gave me the idea)

Anatomy. That was what the assignment was for.

No, anatomy was due in two days. It was the physiology report you had to complete.

No, you turned that in already. It was the respiratory lab write-up that was due.

No, actually, you did that already too. It was the ethics debate.

Or was it the legal analysis? Clinical recap? Vocab refresh?

It was the cardiology worksheet! That’s what the heart on your planner meant.

You flipped through your folder but found no worksheet. Frowning, you went to your class’ online portal. Again, no worksheet. Not even a link to an online assignment or a place to turn anything in.

You were starting to wonder if there was anything due that night.

You pushed your laptop away gently and let your head fall dramatically to the table. A small groan at the impact matched the heavy thud.

Your eyes were so tired. Your head was hurting. Your hands were cramping. You had notebooks, highlighters, colored pens, and index cards strewn around you. Even as you laid on the table, you could see some of them overlapping each other on the floor.

‘quad muscles (hint: 4)’

‘glenohumeral joint’

‘# of metatarsals per foot’

‘bones of the head (NOT the face)’

You whined to yourself as you kicked them away. Those were the easy ones, anyways.

The knock on your apartment door did nothing to get you up. You simply closed your eyes.

“Y/N?” His voice was muffled on the other side. “C’mon, I know you’re here.”

You sighed slightly and lifted your head. You adjusted your laptop back into place and woke the device back up. Even if there was nothing that night, you had other deadlines right on your tail so you got right back to work.

Staring back at you was a hypothetical for a pre-teen boy coming to you with almost complete arm pain. He was a young dual athlete, a baseball pitcher and a basketball player. You needed to come up with a plan to discuss at your internship in the morning.

You vaguely heard the click of your front door as your eyes scanned the scenario over and over again.

“A lot of overhead movement.” You muttered, typing your thoughts in a separate window to organize later. “Shoulder impingement, maybe. But there’s still the forearm tightness.” You chewed mindlessly on the butt end of a pen.

“Hello to you, too.” He said in offense.

“Hey.” You nodded, not looking away. “I wonder if part of it is his epicondyle.”

You sat a little straighter as you switched to a new tab to find a study to back your idea.

“I brought dinner, because I assume you haven’t eaten all day. But since you didn’t answer my texts, you didn’t get a say in what it is.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah, yeah. I am.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You know we had plans tonight, right?”

“What?” You looked over the top of your laptop to find him.

There was Billy, his usual suit jacket was discarded on your couch already, tossed over your pile of textbooks on the corner seat. He had pulled his tie loose and had his sleeves halfway up his arms. In his hands were two takeout containers of pasta dishes. He raised his brows in expectation.

“So that’s what that meant…” You whispered in realization. “I’m sorry, Bill. My phone is over there.” You gestured across the room, where you had purposefully shoved it under the textbooks to keep you from wasting time on it. “Rain check?”

“You’ve got a lot of I.O.U.s I can cash in. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved him off. “As long as you don’t try to cash ‘em all in at once, I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m hurt, babe.” He said dramatically.

“Oh, you’ll live.” You rolled your eyes. “You can stay but you’ve gotta let me focus.”

“What?” He chuckled. “You’re gonna stick me in front of the TV with a meal like a toddler?”

“If that’s what it takes for me to finish this. You good with that?”

“Hey, as long as I get your attention before the night ends.” He nodded. “What are you working on tonight?”

“I’ve got this thing for my internship tomorrow. Oh, and my anatomy assignment is coming up. Do you know how many nerves are in the human body?”

He clicked his tongue. “No.”

“Over 7 trillion. And do you know how many have actual names?”

“Not a chance.”

“43 named pairs. I have to know what those are and where they are. And then, back to this.” You spun your computer. “There’s so much info I don’t have. I mean, sure, he pitches and his arm hurts-“ You spun your computer back. “But is it UCL related? Is it bone related? Is there varus instability? Honestly, this should be for the Sport Injury class next semester.”

He leaned over and kissed the top of your head, an arm coming around your shoulders. You leaned slightly into the embrace while your fingers kept typing and scrolling.

You spent a quiet couple of hours making notes and searching for studies. There were a handful that supported how pitching mechanics can impact overall arm injuries but there wasn’t many for your hypothetical’s age group.

Billy talked off and on. You didn’t look up from your screen. You could feel that your sporadic thoughts and notes were leading you to something. You just needed the right study.

“Y/N…” Billy said. He sounded tired. It might have been the fourth time he tried to get your attention.

You said nothing as he came to the table. You heard the shuffle of papers and you held out a hand to take them. After the notebook was in your hand, you simply dropped it to the floor beside you.

“This kid needs a lot of imaging and tests. The instability test for the elbow is easy enough but for his shoulder…” You spoke to yourself.

“You remember Dinah?” Billy said suddenly.

“He’s a pre-teen but have his growth plates closed already? How old does that happen again?”

You reached across Billy for a notebook. Unexpectedly, he handed you the exact one.

You flashed a quick smile before you began flipping through pages.

“Turns out she’s pregnant.” Billy continued.

“Who is?” You asked mindlessly. You were more focused on scanning your colored headings.

“Dinah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and I guess it’s mine.”

“Really?”

How could you politely tell Billy to shut the hell up?

“Mhmm. She’s gonna keep it so I guess you’ll be a step-mom.”

“That’s fine.” You shook your head. You did not care. “Am I supposed to ask for the imaging? Is that… Jeez, does that count against ethics or anything? Wait, no, that has nothing to do with ethics. Oh my god.” You pushed your hands through your hair. “Can I just get hit by a car?”

“Jesus.” He sighed loudly.

“Can you just-“ You snapped. “I’m really busy, Billy. I’m sorry but can you please just…”

“Just what?” He shrugged. “Cause all I want, Y/N, is for you to spend five goddamned minutes out of your books and your studying. I just want five minutes with my girlfriend. I made up a story of getting another woman pregnant and you don’t care.”

“You did what?”

“Exactly!” He let out a disbelieving laugh. “Exactly.”

“Can you not do this right now? I have literally a million things to do.”

“No, I need your attention for two minutes, Y/N/N.”

“I told you I was going to busy. You didn’t have to stay.”

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy cause I want to spend time with you?”

“No but you know what this means to me and you want me to just push it aside for you! That’s not this works! Whether you care about what I’m doing or not, I need to focus.” You knocked a light fist against the table to punctuate your last few words.

“I am proud of you. You know that I am. Everything you’re working so hard towards, it’s exactly what you deserve.”

“Oh my god.” You whispered. “In the nicest way possible, Billy, just shut the hell up. Please. I love you but can you just not tonight?”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You weren’t upset or anything over the situation. Billy had a fair response. He had planned a date night for you two, probably weeks ago, and you were fighting for your life in front of your computer screen. You could feel the burn of your sinuses from the stress tears.

“When I said I wanted to finish this degree, you promised to support me.” Your voice was more level than you expected given your elevated state of mind.

And that wasn’t to say Billy hadn’t been supportive. When your financial aid hadn’t cleared yet and you owed a portion of your tuition, Billy paid the amount without hesitation. When the $1100 was reimbursed in your aid, he refused to take it. ‘Buy yourself something nice with it’ he had told you. You used it for a new laptop and some textbooks. He often bought dinner or came over to cook when you were busy studying. He helped you with test prep.

“No matter what, you said you’d help however you could.” You continued.

“I have.”

“I know. I’m not saying you haven’t… I’m just-” You sat back and gestured vaguely to the study materials around you. “This is important to me, Bill. I want this so bad.”

“I know.” He nodded, reaching over to take your hand in his. He gave a soft squeeze. “And you’ll have it, Y/N/N. You’ll have anything you want.”

“I don’t want it to be a handout.” You sniffled as the tears streaked your cheek slowly.

“What makes you think that’s what this is?” He chuckled.

You raised a brow. “Cause you like to give me things.” You laughed in return.

“I do.” He grinned. “And I wanna do it right now.”

“If you try to give me a gift right now, I will punch you in the throat.” You threatened with a straight face.

“It’s not a gift.” He shook his head.

“Alright.” You caved. You pulled your hand free and wiped your face with the inside of your shirt. When you looked back at Billy, you saw he was standing and pulling his tie off.

“Billy Russo, if you’re trying to get me in bed right now, I will-” You tried, standing to jab a finger to his chest.

Billy just laughed.

“Anatomy review, genius.” He rolled his eyes with a small smile. He took your hands and placed them on his shoulders. “What muscles?”

“I don’t know. They’re not that defined.” You teased.

“Oh really?” Billy laughed again. “That’s how you wanna do this?”

You grinned innocently. “Delts.”

“And here?” He slid your hands down to his sides.

“Obliques.”

“Here?” Up to his arms.

“Biceps… Smaller than you’d think.”

“You think you’re funny?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I do, actually, yes.” You answered. “Are you done?”

“Depends.” He shrugged. He laid your hands over his shoulders and your fingers danced along his back. “You feel better?”

You glanced over at your laptop. Billy noticed and dramatized a sigh. He reached over and closed the computer before focusing on you again.

“Well, that was rude.” You frowned.

“You pay more attention to that thing than you do me.” He tilted his head. “How’s that fair?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I work for that. I have to pay attention to it.”

“Oh?”

You practically saw the lightbulb in his head click on.

“Wait.” You tried when you realized what you said. You tried to step back, push him back by his chest, but his grip on your hips kept you in place. “Let me explain.”

“Too late.”

“It is not! Give me a second to explain. I meant that-”

“No.” He shook his head. “I think it’s only fair that it’s my turn for your attention. I’ve worked for it, right? I deserve that, don’t I?” He began walking backwards, gently pulling you with him until he was able to spin you so your back hit the wall.

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“For now, I’m asking.”

“Oh, for now.” You nodded. “You’re right, by the way. I can admit that I should give you a little more attention.”

“Aw.” He feigned a frown. “All I get is a little?”

“You aren’t a Master’s Degree that I can frame and put on my wall. You aren’t going to add a neat little ‘M.S.’ to the end of my name. You aren’t going to make my application competitive in the medical field.” You explained. “I do love you, but you’re not changing my career, my love.”

“One, I’ll give you that. Two, I’ll give you an ‘Mrs.’ for the front of your name. I’ll give you my last name too, if you want it. Three, I can get you whatever job you want. You know that.”

“I’d like to know I earned what I get, but I appreciate the offer.”

“I’ve got something else you can earn then in the meantime.” He winked.

You had to laugh at that. You gently took hold of his shirtfront and pulled him a step closer.

“Lemme take care of you, hmm? You need a break.” He said gently. “Ain’t that what I’m here for?”

“Usually it’s cause you’re nice to look at.” You teased.

“Ooh.” He feigned offense. “Now you’re just being mean.”

“I love you.” You smiled innocently. “And I’m not changing my name, by the way.”

“We can talk about it later. Besides, I like the way Mrs. Y/N Russo sounds.”

You feigned a gag. “Y/N Y/L/N, M.S. sounds better.”

“Y/N Y/L/N-Russo, M.S.?”

“Why are we negotiating my name?” You laughed. “We’re not getting married anytime soon.”

He lazily shrugged. “We could go to City Hall in the morning. I can get Frankie as a witness and have us on our honeymoon by lunch.”

“Internship.” You shook your head. “Can’t skip it.”

“You could.”

“Fine. I won’t, no matter how tempting your offers are.”

#billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #billy x reader #billy russo #billy russo x you #billy russo x fem!reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fic #billy russo oneshot #billy russo flangst #flangst #fluff/angst #billy russo fluff #billy russo angst #self-insert fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fic

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stardew-shitposterino · 2 years ago

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Stardew Valley Bachelors and how they deal with their secret crush on the farmer

———-——————————

BEHOOOOLD! I’m kind of back but I’m not because I have a job and feel tired most of the time. I still need to get used to adult life. Anyway, here are the bachelors and how they deal with having a fat crush on you, you cutesy farmer person covered in filth!

Contents might be a bit NSFW so MINORS…you know what not to do *fights them off with a stick*

Enjoy my brainrot 🍓🥰

Sam:

-Sammy is a cute little guy, almost like a dog wagging it’s tail when they see their owner.

-he is SO BAD at hiding it

-he will dream about you two jamming on a big stage together. In his ideal world, you two are a successful duo who make noise rock (kind of like the white stripes minus the weird siblings or married controversy)

-Sam will write songs about you. It’s not intentional per say, and he thinks he really sucks at writing love songs, but it just happens whenever he has to think about you. The words just start flowing.

-he might or might not have had some steamy shower fantasies about you…while in the shower. Jodie keeps complaining about the water bill being unusually high 👀

-yet, Sam is usually not too horny when he is in love with you. He is more gushy and daydreamy than anything

Sebastian:

-homeboy works with nightcore versions of love songs to cope with his longing

-he isn’t the type to show his feelings so openly, so no one really notices his crush on you. Maybe Sam, but well, he is Seb’s best bud. Of course he can tell

-He notices how his sleep has improved since having a crush on you. He willingly goes to bed earlier to have some time to imagine scenarios of you two

-just you and him together on his cool ass motorcycle, driving into the night and ending it with a passionate kiss (sounds familiar?)

-well,,, let’s just say Seb is increasingly horny since having a crush on you. Before, he was almost certain he is some sort of asexual, but nope 😃 he’s healthy and extremely down bad for the filthy farmer who eats raw fish out of the pond 🥰

-what I mean by horny? Uhhh… he didn’t really need to rely on certain websites to satisfy his needs, that’s for sure 👀

Harvey:

-Harvey is a good man. A very good man

-god bless his soul 😫

-Harv isn’t the type to have crushes easily…I can’t believe it either, considering his crush on Maru who is way younger than him 💀

-but in my head, he isn’t the type to be all lovey dovey over someone. That’s why he’s so bad at hiding it. But you don’t really notice. You just suspect it but it could also be his usual anxiety lol

-it happened anyway😎 and he doesn’t know how to cope. At all.

-he has to think about you at all times, especially when he looks at the empty jars of delicious pickles you’ve made him

-This man is usually collected, but now?! He forgets everything, can’t even form a comprehensible sentence at times when his mind is busy thinking about a romantic picknick date with a lovely farmer

-Harvey’s libido is pretty much a dead beat horse 💀 but now he even feels the desire to do some nasty nasty at times. It’s still pretty tame, he’s a gentleman through and through, but wild for him to have those feelings and longings after what feels like decades. He’s not mad at it. He has felt low-key dead inside for so long so this is very exciting and he’s eager to explore this side of him…despite being anxious 😭

Elliott:

-bet your ass he’s the prince of crushes

-he is very dedicated and welcomes those refreshing feelings with a kiss

-feeling better than usual AND having inspiration to write ?! SIGN HIM UP

-he will use every chance he can get to talk to you, maybe even get you drunk (in a non creepy way) because he likes when you’re unapologetically authentic and let loose. It makes him feel more in touch with your soul (or some shit idk I’m not a poet)

-Elliott is NOT SUBTLE

-you practically know from the start that he has the hots for you, but it’s kinda funny seeing him try to pretend it’s not that way…if you can even call that pretending not to be 😭

- his passion doesn’t end at his artistry. This guy will spend a lot of time in his shower thinking about what could be, or sitting at the docks at night just staring at the sea (he’s NOT doing anything nasty in public, peeps. Don’t get it twisted)

-I can also see him recreate a romantic bedroom date he’d love to have with you…but it’s just him 🤷🏼‍♀️ self care king 👑

Shane:

-like Harvey: HE CANNOT COPE!

-he hasn’t felt like this since high school. Every other encounter with potential partners was surface level and only based on sexual satisfaction

-so caring about you, thinking about what makes you happy and how he could be the reason you smile every day, that’s a lot for him

-as stupid as it sounds, he spirals and becomes low-key miserable over it. Give this man a 101 lesson on how to process emotions 😭

-despite the constant anxiety he feels, he low-key enjoys it. It’s kind of hopeless as well as pointless in his honest opinion, but there is this believe, that 0.00001% chance (in his mind) that he could turn his life around and be happy with you, married and maybe have a child of his own one day

-but that’s wishful thinking, riiiiiiight? So what does a self loathing piece of alcoholic man do instead of making a move? Yeah, self pleasure even more than usual, to get at least a bit of serotonin and the willpower to get his shit together, at least for you if it isn’t for him. He’s pretty rough with it too (ouch, unless you’re into that)

-sorry bros but him having a crush is not really all that cute. He’s my cutie pie, but let’s be real: him dealing with those feelings he tried to shut off for so long will be tragic in a way. He’s battling his inner demons here. So yeah… :(

Alex:

-my man, my maaaaan 🥰

-he has earned a soft spot in my heart, bless his soul

-so Alex has a crush on you from the start, it’s basically canon

-can he show his feelings? Yes! Can he do that in a way that can be read as the feelings he tries to get across to you? NO!

-low-key bullying is his love language 🥰

-at least in the beginning. He’s a bit anxious and fears he isn’t good enough for you, so he doesn’t try to be authentic. Being the jock jerk everyone expects him to be gets a reaction out of you and that’s better than nothing, right?

-he’s neither the poetic nor the intellectual type, so he doesn’t process his emotions by writing them down or putting them into words. Just imagine him going about his work-out routine, just thinking about your beautiful smile and rocking bod while sweating like a hog

-Alex and quiet ? Yes that’s possible. I imagine him to go quieter than usual since having a crush on you. He processes everything internally and that takes a lot of time for him as he usually just shrugs off his emotions and doesn’t try to brood too much on them. But now?! He can’t but blush in silence as he just imagines how soft and small your hands must be next to his (yours are way more impressive than his and calloused to the gods, but let him have this moment)

-when it comes to being nasty…Alex is a serial romantic. We know that he probably was the lady’s man back in school so he probably got some action one way or another. In other words, man has the libido of a teen that just hit puberty 💀

-despite being quite horny, he was able to manage to just do it every other day. Now, he cannot even get out of bed in the morning before doing it as you pester his dreams and make his hormones go crazy first thing in the morning…so many nice boxer shorts were lost along the way 🫡

-he also did his own laundry for the first time during that period lmfao

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv shane #sdv bachelors #sdv Alex #sdv Sam #sdv Elliott #sdv Harvey #sdv sebastian #sdv headcanons #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley shane #Stardew valley Sam #stardew valley sebastian #Stardew valley Elliott #Stardew valley Alex

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foreststarflaime · 17 days ago

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Seeing a lot of Genesis…I don’t wanna say hate bc I don’t think it’s that exactly, more like questioning—on my dash lately so I thought I’d put my own two cents on why I love him out there (sorry I tend to be long-winded when I do decide to talk)

So much of the meat of Crisis Core I feel is in the implications. The writing admittedly isn’t the best; they don’t spend a whole lot of time on the story as opposed to the side missions; all of this contributes to that being the case, but if you spend obsessive amounts of time on it like I have you see there is care put into the game, in the little details where they couldn’t state things directly. Imo, at least—details and implications are Difficult determining-canon-wise because it can be hard to tell if they were intentional or if it’s just confirmation bias. But in engaging with and enjoying media I tend to prefer to just kinda take canon as it is and enjoy it how I see it.

Anyways. To the point. Yes, we don’t see a lot of Genesis directly, and what we do see is certainly not him at his best (though he’s still very fun to watch and I find him hilarious and enjoyable even at his worst). And sidenote disclaimer whatever all we see of him is him at his absolute worst, as everything that gave him meaning crumbled around him, same as for Angeal. Neither of them handle it at all well. Genesis lashes out in a particularly nasty way, and does some unspeakable things, yes. He’s very parallel foreshadowing to Sephiroth in that. But the way he lashes out is so very flawed and human, despite him angsting about being a monster the entire time, and I think that resonates with a lot of people—that someone so in pain and so seemingly beyond repair can still garner and perhaps even deserve sympathy and forgiveness from someone like Zack. And the way in which he lashes out, the reasons behind it, I think do say quite a bit about him as a character. He desperately wants to live, and weirdly I think that’s a fairly refreshing thing to see in angst-filled stories (not that I am dissing any of the passively suicidal self sacrificial heroes out there, quite the opposite, I enjoy them immensely). It’s an especially interesting contrast to Angeal.

People complain about his obsession with Loveless, as well, but I mean…we’re all here on tumblr, reading this long analysis of a game. We have tightly-held interests. I know I find it hard not to talk about mine to people and for them to consume my every thought. He seems to have just found something he really likes in an honestly very relatable to me way, and is holding it close to try to keep himself sane in a hellish scenario. I also tend to try to see the world through the lens of story, in a way; it makes everything more exciting and worth it to me. Hell, the reason I made it through a grueling honors undergrad degree in classics and linguistics with a thesis that I am still feeling the burnout from is in large part because I read the Hobbit in elementary school and decided then and there that I would follow in Tolkien’s footsteps or die trying (I may or may not also have learned historical fencing and archery etc also to try to be as close to a medieval fantasy adventurer as one can be in today’s society). So I find the Loveless obsession quite endearing, honestly. And iirc I saw someone saying that him reading to the younger SOLDIERs was him shoving his interests down their throats—I respectfully disagree, that seems to be a detail mentioned in a positive/wistful light when it’s brought up, like they enjoyed it. And it seems implied that he was liked well enough by a large portion of SOLDIER, since they were willing to desert with him. Admittedly unless they were forced, which is possible, we just don’t know exactly—I tend to believe the former (at least before he started turning them into copies) for the aforementioned reason of people seeming to have liked him.

Now about Genesis pre-cc—as mentioned before, or course we never see this side of him in canon directly. But I think it’s still valid to see the echoes of it in the story we do see and read in between the lines a little—I think the game wants you to do that, even. My main exhibit here is the mails. It was kind of surreal coming into this fandom, honestly, how much of what I assumed to be fanon details about Genesis and Angeal especially were in fact canon: Angeal liking gardening and cooking, Genesis griping about Angeal’s plants attracting bugs into his room. And especially the bit about AGS sneaking into the training room to hurl swords at apples on each other’s heads. They’re little humanizing details you can easily miss, but that are right there in the game. AGS were friends—and good enough friends to keep Sephiroth from going off the deep end for as long as he did, despite how horrible everything in his life was. We’re seeing that we were right in how we assumed Angeal to have been based on what we were given, at least in basic part—I don’t think it would be too far-fetched to hope we could see the same of Genesis, one day. Again, not in all fanon aspects of him—in the more basic parts that have more basis in the little snippets and implications we were given. Like his passion, and his quirks removed from the village-burning-mental-breakdown part.

Anyways. We’re seeing Angeal and Sephiroth have a healthy friendship now, yes. But it wasn’t just Angeal Sephiroth cared for—it’s Genesis we see him desperately calling in the beginning of First Soldier, independent of Angeal (I think that was before Angeal deserted? If only shortly before? Since it seems like Seph didn’t know Angeal had deserted until he found Zack and then presumably went straight back to the helicopter with him after. Someone tell me if I’m wrong). Genesis’ childhood dream, after all, was to share his accomplishments with Sephiroth—to be his equal (from what I’ve seen this was a mistranslation in the training room scene). Yes, it seems rather strange that he didn’t seem to understand that Sephiroth didn’t want his fame after so many years of friendship, but honestly I’m still learning things about my best friends of 10+ years even still, and especially when I was younger I could and can be very self-centered in how I view the rest of the world (in that I use myself as the basis of what I know to understand what I don’t, idk if that makes sense how I’m wording it but we ball). I don’t think it would be too unreasonable to think the same of him, if admittedly probably a worse case with his clear deep insecurities thrown in and some alien cell degradation on top of it all. None of them communicate well at ALL. I love this about them.

I guess, to sum it up, my point is that Genesis is painfully human, at the bottom of it all. And I think that’s at least some of what draws people to him.

Idk. I’ll wrap it up now bc I’m tired and have used up my mental word quote for the whole week probably. Hopefully this is nearly as character analysis instead of pure fanon headcanon based as I meant it to be. I am honestly quite new to fandom and the headspace of headcanon vs analyzing what’s there if such a difference even exists in a worthwhile manner to deconstruct is also fairly fresh to me, at least consciously. I hope it can help some people enjoy him at least half as much as I have! Sorry if this was too lecturey or rambled too far from what I intended, I know I have a tendency to have too much suspension of disbelief/faith in the writing of things

(Didn’t want to put this on a rb of that post going around bc op was asking for specifically canon stuff and I wasn’t sure that this qualified exactly but I still wanted to say it, absolutely no hate to that person)

#genesis rhapsodos #ff7 #crisis core #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #star essays #star rambles

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brights-place · 5 days ago

Note

Jamil viper with Anxiety!reader from inside out?

I love your writing! Keep up the amazing work!

[TWST] ．°˖✧JAMIL ˚₊ ⊹ x Anxiety! Reader

Contains: Dating Headcannons

A/N: The fact people ACUTALLY like my works makes me second guess myself.. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LIKE IT I'M SHAKING YOUR SHOULDERS TY FRO TEH REQUEST THOUGH I LOVE JAMIL VIPER HE'S SO WHEHWE also I hope you like the new layout! with the headcannons !

Summary: Jamil Viper dating a partner who is the same as Anxiety from Inside out.

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ "What if it all goes wrong?" Jamil quickly becomes fluent in your “anxious language.” He knows what your pacing means, what each kind of list signifies, and how your fingers fidget when you're spiraling into “what if” scenarios

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ His calm, dry demeanor might seem like a strange match at first, but he’s incredibly grounding for you. While you're trying to plan for every possible disaster, he simply says: "We'll handle it when it happens."\ You hate how that answer shouldn’t be comforting but somehow, coming from him, it is

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ To Jamil you are the human equivalent of a warm weighted blanket and an over-caffeinated brain to Jamil, The amount of times he had to hold his head in his hands due to the fact you stayed up too late again panicking exhausted him

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ You keep emergency lists. Backup plans. Color-coded charts though Jamil carries the real emergency items snacks, tea bags for your comfort blend, a scarf if you forgot one, even a small plush you once said helped soothe you during meltdowns. He never makes a big deal out of it he just hands it to you when he sees the panic in your eyes

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ "You’re not a burden." Jamil always mutters, cupping your face with a soft smile. You couldn't help but frown looking away every time he says it

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ You constantly apologize for being “too much.” Jamil, in turn, just gives you a long stare before replying in his usual deadpan tone “If I thought you were too much, I wouldn’t be here.”

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ Despite your constant need for reassurance, he never loses patience. He knows your anxiety isn’t something you can turn off, so instead of trying to fix you, he meets you where you are

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ He starts saying “I’m proud of you” more often, even for little things. He notices when you finally skip a panic-planning step, or when you take a breath instead of spiraling. He sees everything you do to grow, and quietly celebrates it

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ Date nights are special for you two though Jamil has to stop himself from stifling a laugh when you become flustered thinking you missed a step. He can't help but adore your face

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ Jamil knows you plan every second of your date nights times, menus, backup routes in case the café closes early. Jamil, meanwhile, also tries to help gently teach you how to let things go when the plan falls apart and... you survive. Every time with him by your side

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ Though for you to help Jamil, You sometimes help him manage his own internal pressure to perform perfectly, reminding him he can rest and just exist, too. “You don’t have to protect everyone, Jamil. Not all the time. Let me be here for you too.” you received the biggest stink eye from him causing you to flinch but he relaxed muttering apology, kissing your cheek

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ Physical contact doesn’t always calm you, but Jamil’s hands are different to others

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ They’re gentle, secure. His thumb brushing your knuckles while you breathe through a panic attack is worth more than a dozen grounding exercises.

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ You both have a control freak streak but in different ways. Sometimes you clash because you want to plan every detail, and he wants to disappear from the spotlight but you find a rhythm

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ Though he always looks composed, Jamil adores how open you are when you're with him

──★ ˙🐍 ̟ Your chaotic honesty is refreshing like when you blurt out all the worst-case scenarios and immediately apologize and even when you ramble in a panic about five hypothetical disasters, he’ll listen quietly, then kiss your forehead

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delicrieux · 10 months ago

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…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. the fireworks festival.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing, character death (off screen, dw) wc. 6.3k author’s note. gege deserves to be charged for war crimes for what he's done, but besides that, thank u for reading once again. i really loved writing this story and agonizing about what it would be like to be with our dear satoru. he is, without doubt, a character that deserved so much better. but anyway, thank you again!!!! c u at the end of this xx

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CHAPTER 14: you know where to find me & i know where to look

you will not lie and tell yourself that being away from gojo isn’t strange and off-putting, even if you would like to. it’s different when either of you are on a mission, because, theoretically, now you know he’s just on the other side of the wall and you have chosen to not curl up beside him. you have slept alone for a long time, and it had never been an issue until now – there’s no one to be too warm against, no one to hog the sheets, no one to chew on your hair dreaming of something sweet.

the stockholm syndrome really got you, huh?

still, you sleep well. there’s enough space and you awake refreshed, with no limbs tingly or numb, but a bit lonely. the room is too big, and even if the view behind the curtain is nice enough to snap a picture, it’s not as charming without gojo pointing and saying, “heh, look, a bit more rain and it’s gonna be a landslide,” and you, naturally, nodding along, because he must be right.

you dress and douse yourself in a heavy, heavy cloud of the perfume he got you. gojo insisted on this one because he liked the way it smelled, and you are feeling better today and are willing to hear out another heartfelt apology. you are very nice and very merciful and deserve the very best for your endless efforts to steer this relationship into something at least vaguely harmonious.

maybe you can reconcile during a tasty breakfast with a cappuccino syruped with caramel and the foam resembling a cat. yes, you have put the pieces together – normally, you wouldn’t consider yourself a great strategist, but surprisingly, last night you had ran this situation through your head over and over and over again till every possible scenario and an equally possible outcome was engraved into the squiggly lines of your brain. you have never been more prepared for anything in your entirely life.

“i’ve learned my lesson,” are the very first words you hear when you open the door, met with a head hung low and an unhappy gojo satoru.

alright, this you did not anticipate. he looks a bit miserable. gojo always hated the silent treatment or the ignore policy the most, even when he was harassing you for his personal entertainment, but you didn’t think eight hours apart would make him like this. suppose he might not have slept at all; suppose you did leave on a sour note, a small good night and a strained smile he tried to mimic but failed, waiting till you shut the door before heading to his room.

you wonder how long he’s been antsy behind your door, waiting like a lost pet. you decide to assume he just got here instead of thinking of the more likely scenario that he sensed your cursed energy spike once you rolled out of bed and was at attention ever since.

“that’s nice,” you tell him. a soft kiss to his cheek seals the deal for both of you, and an ache you didn’t realize you were suffering from lifts seeing him instantly brighten.

“you smell nice,” he leans in, happily nosing the side of your neck, “and look nice. super nice. hello.”

“hi, good morning.”

“yes,” a toothy smile, and your fingers twining with his, “great, even, actually. didja miss me?”

you will not lie to yourself, but you will lie to him. you shake your head, as though disappointed by such an unfair and silly line of questioning, “it’s barely been a night. i was relieved, if anything.”

he wrinkles his nose, a look that borders on not so playful if taking in the arctic gleam of his eyes, “not funny,” the comedy will have to wait, it seems, he’s serious, “no jokes about that. or separation. ever. you and i are conjoined twins from now on. we could be permanently glues together by my infinity. now that’s an idea.”

a bit too frankensteinian for you, so you have to pass, “let’s leave the morally questionable experiments to shoko, please.”

“if you insist,”

well, now that the apology is out of the way and the awkwardness is cleared, you are prepared for a feast that he will pay for, “let’s go down to eat?”

if it weren’t for the slight downward twitch of the corners of his lips, you might’ve been fooled that all is fine and dandy. apparently, it is not. hesitation, from him, only comes when he’s preparing for something major and likely emotionally taxing. this, on an empty stomach, will not do, but drawing it out isn’t an option, either.

he squeezes your hand before you can come up with an excuse to avoid breakfast or this conversation, as this isn’t going at all like you have pedantically strung together. another squeeze, and you decide to never plan anything ever again, “…can we order room service instead?” he inquires, and you relax a little, glad you won’t have to have this conversation mid-hallway where any other guest could sneak up, “i, uh,” he won’t meet your eyes, “i’d like to talk a bit. first. if that’s okay?”

your insides are twisting into knots – not from the present anxiety but from the honesty in his quiet voice.

“sure,” you settle.

he nods and takes the lead, hand a little sweaty, face a little flustered – all very out of character, but very sweet. you let him drag you the whole of the next door down and you’re graciously let into the spotless, untouched space he had spent the night in. the curtains are open, the bed is pristine, and gojo is never this clean so it can only mean he hasn’t used it. you glance at him with a wordless question but he’s still avoiding your gaze.

has he really agonized over this the whole night? you have, too, a bit, but seemingly not nearly enough. maybe it’s his first time having a fight with someone; maybe it’s his first time being in the wrong and knowing that he is and actually doing something about it. too many maybes. you think he might be just as confused as you.

once the door is shut, he breathes out. perks up, finally, once you’re safely secured in his perimeter. he gestures toward the expanse of the bed, face morphing back into a rather placid expression that betrays nothing but an odd edge that doesn’t manage to leave his eyes entirely.

“after you,” he announces chivalrously. no ulterior motives there.

“uh-huh,” you sound, toeing the slippers off and climbing in. you scoot back till you’re pressed against the pillows, leaving ample space for him to join. he chooses a spot by your thigh, warmth pickling against your skin, and you really do forgive him, you decide, and you would probably forgive him again even he pulled the same stunt at this very moment. no, that is terrible, how has this idiot managed to ensnare you so completely?

once he’s fidgeted enough, he moves onto his next agenda, “the menu,” he pulls out a booklet from the drawer, placing it on your bent knees like a little gift. this all feels vaguely rehearsed, “pick what you want.”

that was always the intention, but you see that he’s trying very hard to work up the courage to something he wants to say, so maybe some good old fashioned enthusiasm from you will help him relax, “alright,” a hum for added measure, “hmmm…. mhmmm…. ooh, pancakes sound nice. like, maybe a mountain of them.”

“yeah?” his chin finds its usual spot on your shoulder, “pick between the triple and a tower.”

the picture showing off the pancake tower does look very impressive, not to mention delicious. however, you aren’t entirely certain you would finish one, as the heading reads over one meter!, which is simply ridiculous. thankfully, you have a man with a black hole for a stomach right next to you, “i’d like a tower.”

“sure, whatever you want.”

“and a cappuccino,” you’re not skimming out on that, even if it’s unlikely the barista will make you cat-shaped foam. maybe you can press gojo to bully them into doing it, but pressing gojo into anything at this moment would likely lead to another disaster, “with a double shot. possibly triple. how many shots do they do?”

“think one’s plenty enough,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. they appear bit chapped, but nothing you can’t fix, “…can i get a kiss?”

…so much for wanting to talk. this is already familiar. he’s trying to change the subject.

“for good behavior?” you venture coyly, peeling your gaze away from the breakfast details to gauge his expression.

it makes him smile, small and wicked, “yup. best behavior, actually. i said sorry, it counts. right? say yes.”

“mmm,” you manage, thinking up another scheme. you would like to keep this on track. it’s likely he won’t dare to say it again and the implication of it will hang between the two of you until another fight, and another, and it’ll keep stacking up and up and likely higher than the famed pancake tower. his pupils grow larger the longer he waits for your permission. a small sigh, and your nails scratch at the nape, “maybe let’s eat first?”

his gaze flickers for a second, and then he gives you a kind, patient smile, “alright,” because he meant it when he said whatever you want.

“so nice of you,” you praise. his grin shifts. you recognize i – it’s the one he dons when he’s winning.

a quick call to reception, gojo’s back to holding your hand again, softly as not to crowd you. his fingers really are much longer than yours, and he measures them idly, more than used to the sight but still somehow mesmerized by it.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” he starts, voice even, though low, “the rest i don’t really care about, but you,” he tugs on your finger, “you just, doesn’t…” he trails off, confidence shaken by something invisible.

“i don’t like fighting with you either,” you share, hoping it will ease him. it seems to work, but only a little, “it sucks.”

“yeah,” he huffs, “super major sucks,” he draws closer and the mattress shifts. he finds home beside you, head once again nestled into your shoulder, like it’s the safest place on planet earth.

gojo always seeks refuge in physical affection. it’s a way he can express himself without using words. suppose you can pull him into your embrace and calm him like that; suppose he’ll feel a bit braver without your eyes so deeply focused on him, even if there’s always a chance he’ll take the easy way out and refuse to speak at all.

but that’s not what happens, “i just wanted to find a spot where we could watch the stars together.”

“oh,” you utter, unsure what to make of this yet. you are glad he has finally told you, but that still doesn’t explain why he was acting, dare you say, nervous before the argument. there has to be more. there always is, but you will never pry, because it’s painful enough for him already.

“didn’t work out the way i had hoped it would, though,” and now he sounds genuinely sad. a horrible feeling surfaces in you, “but we can still watch them tonight. if you want.”

“i do,” you assure him, “but you have to talk about what’s bothering you. i can’t read your mind.”

“thank god you can’t,” a hollow chuckle follows, “it’s a secret anyway. none of your beeswax.”

impossible, like always, but you wouldn’t really have it any other way. you card your fingers through his hair and he relaxes further, warm breath tickling the side of your neck. a small sigh, this time from him. now that he’s said all that he has wanted to say – which still doesn’t really explain anything, but is more than enough – he can pretend to be an overgrown cat and bask in your affectionate gestures.

it’s going to be okay. you hope he doesn’t see your little smile. lucky.

“is this supposed to be a white tiger?” you inquire, holding up a glass phone charm for his inspection. another pale, blue-eyed thing that has caught your fancy. soon, your dorm room will also include a private zoo of all the cute plushies and ornaments you’ve managed to collect with gojo’s money.

“doesn’t have any stripes,” he hums, twisting and turning the vaguely animal-shaped object in his palm. dusk falls on his shoulders, tinting the edges of his hair a soft lilac, “maybe a polar bear?”

suppose it doesn’t really matter, since all charms displayed at this stall look the same, and it surely has nothing to do with the talent of the man that made them. he gazes over them proudly, each sat in a small leather box with a lavish seat, ready to be taken home and hung by the mirror or looped around a cellphone. the monkey ones could maybe resemble monkeys if you squinted and took a lot of creative liberties, and the rest are just shapes with four legs and a snout. oddly cute, in an incompetent, unexplainable way.

“you wanna…?” gojo raises a brow, shades blocking the double-check he no doubt sends you. you nod vigorously.

he has learned his lesson from last time and carries a concerning amount of cash in his wallet. your tiger-bear is placed in its box and then wrapped in a little bow before being hidden in a colorful plastic bag that eventually makes its way to you. you bow in thank you.

the matsuri continues. the winding streets are blocked from traffic yet crowd with too many patrons; gojo pinches your sleeve and tugs when a particularly large wave of people try to separate you. even when they manage, and you’re momentarily disoriented from the sounds and smells and sights, he always manages to spot you first. maybe he just knows where to look.

gojo has changed from his usual garbs into a baby blue yukata. blue really is his color, and he looks so infuriatingly handsome that you have to glare at a sizable amount of people to let them know he is not available to be admired now, or ever, really. you have contemplated buying him a kabuki mask, but even then, his height and broad shoulders – not to mention that unshakable gait and all-over enticing confidence! – would somehow reveal him, and people would still stare or try to grab his attention. perhaps the mystery of the mask would be even more alluring. your hairs stand on end at the thought.

“m?” gojo, never one to miss anything and still latched onto your sleeve, tilts his head, “are you hungry? i sensed murderous intent.”

you hide your lips behind your fan – an expensive trinket gojo insisted to get you since it would match your baby pink yukata. yes, you have come in matching bubble gum ice cream flavors. when your head moves even slightly, the hairpins clink. the sound is light and satisfying, or so he said. you can’t hear it over the noise.

“no, not really,” you say, though the dango stand does look delicious, and the twinkling lights are inviting. your displeased eyes do not leave the group of high school girls donning their flowery yukata and giggling into their kakigori bowls. it is truly a blessing you have been born with a useless amount of cursed energy, because you would definitely use it for evil.

maybe gojo knows, and he graciously steps forward, blocking your sight from the rest of the people. another tug, and you snap into motion.

around you, lanterns sway, alight and warm; they cast low over the sidewalks and shine bright against the cobblestone walkways. in the corners of your vision, the glow swirls into endless rainbow-colored ribbons.

“how good are you at shooting?” he asks.

all dolled up and pretty, you can only clap your lashes few times at the absurd question, “really well, why?”

“like, a bow or a gun?”

“does it matter? both require concentration and precision,” you explain, “still, are we planning a heist or something? i don’t have any cursed tools on me,” and while the prospect of danger and adventure is enticing, you really are having fun just being here with him and would rather stay.

“nah, just a bit of friendly competition,” he grins, glasses drooping just enough to catch the mischievous twinkle in his eye, “wanna go against the strongest? you’ll be the only one to that lived to tell the tale.”

wanna do this, wanna do that? want food, a plushie, something absurdly expensive? if you asked for the moon, you wonder if he’d try to retrieve it. perhaps calculate if a missing edge wouldn’t spin the planet out of orbit and bring it back to you as a souvenir.

“i’d like a soda,” you say.

“let’s get you a cola,” he switches directions so quickly you almost collide into an equally mushy couple enjoying their date.

only you and gojo are not a couple, and this is not a date, and each time he recalls an insignificant detail about you and goes out of his way to do something small for you only because he wants to do it, it becomes harder and harder to remember the fact. pretending is awful, and it burns strangely acidic in the back of your throat. but it’s so warm, too, and you want to cling to his arm and press your cheek against his yukata. hide there, in his sleeve, like he always does in the crook of your neck.

gojo wouldn’t mind. once he gets you your tasty drink, you paint a kiss mark on his cheekbone with your lips. it’s faint and pink, glossy against the rose that steadily rises onto his face, and he doesn’t wipe it off, only smiles sheepishly.

eventually, you make it to the shooting range. it’s a large stall decorated with sea creatures and varying shades of purple and blue. you’re handed a large water gun and told to hold till the targets – large jellyfish – fall over, officially earning you a point. depending on the amount of points one receives, one might win a prize, or so the man in a pirate costume explained.

“ready?” gojo asks, fixing his glasses. you’re not sure how serious you should take this. your pride may be on the line, but this game is likely extremely rigged. he’s already the strongest, and whatever he’d receive from the pirate would ultimately make it into your hold without you having to steal or resort to anything desperate, like politely asking.

still, you are a sorcerer. if a friend and colleague is requesting, you must put on a brave front. it is the morally righteous thing to do, after all.

you put your hand on your hip and nod.

the game begins. three seconds into it you realize that the water stream is much too weak for you to successfully take down a significant number in the modest time allocated for this quest. still, you keep going, and several jellyfish fall by your skillful hand and steadfast accuracy.

no matter the physical differences or innate abilities, there should not be a lead in this competition, and if there were to be one, it would be you and your clear head compared to gojo’s impatience and petulant whining. as a matter of fact, he is not whining, nor is he sulking in defeat or trying to sabotage your chances.

he is barely containing his cackle over tightly pressed lips and quivering shoulders, his grip on the plastic so tight the bright red grip cracks a little.

the jellyfish stood in his path to victory keep falling one by one so quickly you take a second glance to ensure he’s not using an actual gun to knock them over. cursed energy permeates in the air like static after a storm, and you sigh, lowering your water gun before the timer’s up.

he's cheating. somehow you didn’t expect this, even if it was obvious from the start. should you scold him and be disappointed, thus ruining the fun for everyone out of principle?

you feel like he’s been through enough. even a fake argument would leave him discontent, and you even more so. besides, you doubt either of you would have won even the most useless trinket if you played fair and square. this you judge from the absolutely aghast expression of the stall’s owner, who might snap his neck at any moment if he keeps swinging it from jellyfish to gojo and back.

the bells chime. the game ends. with trembling hands, the pirate picks up the stuffed animal gojo pointed at and hands it over.

“there you go,” gojo thrusts the penguin in your arms, and you take it, all fluff and cold seams, “for you.”

“okay,” you concede, cradling the stupid looking bird. it's cute.

you do not miss the owner checking gojo's gun for a malfunction. he does not miss the sly look you send his way before departing.

“where to next?” you can't wait. you have had fizzy drinks, munched on so many yakitori skewers you've lost count, watched a truly horrendous standup comedian and stayed till the end of the performance out of pity, and exchanged three handmade charms for a total of two plushies. your penguin will be named yukihira because that was the name of gojo's pet koi fish.

pet, as in it was in the pond, and gojo liked looking at it the most, hence he named it. there were no pets allowed in the gojo household, or any fun, for that matter. you didn't understand, not entirely, but you wanted to. a lackluster childhood burdened with responsibility so vast and complex it's hardly comprehensible. he wouldn't elaborate further, simply bury his face into the bend of your neck and kiss until the memory had finally, and perfectly, faded from your mind, and you could breathe just a bit easier.

“to sit,” gojo says, indicating the lone bench beneath the awning across the stall, “exhausted. gotta recharge for the next conquest.”

“how dramatic,” you comment, but take his extended arm and accompany him.

together, you remain unbothered, a tiny island amidst a current of shifting yukata, cork shoes, and the occasional colorful sandal. fireflies wink around, chasing each other like sparklers.

gojo fishes out his phone and clicks his tongue, reading the message you know is there. most likely another important thing to deal with. you wish he wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again, but that sounds ridiculous even to you.

“what's up?” you lean your shoulder on his. the penguin sits on your lap, quietly reflecting your somber gaze. it's round, black eyes are welcoming, so you poke its nose.

“nothing,” he decides, waving the thought away, “it can wait, probably.”

you make a face, “that doesn't sound very assuring.”

“unlike some, i have a healthy respect for privacy,” he grins, not taking his eyes off the device even when his tone softens considerably, “i won't interrogate you if you don't want me to. so the same goes for me.”

you snort. that's a lie if you've ever heard one, because he has never shied away of reading your messages along with you or providing helpful responses. still, you won't push. you trust him. if he says it's nothing, it means it's nothing.

a short silence settles. the air feels balmy, and a phantom wind circles you. one of the lanterns has blown out, and a little trail of smoke floats to the sky.

“huh,” you blink, the information suddenly resurfacing in your brain, “the sister event is next week.”

“ugh,” he shoves his phone back into his pocket only so he could rub the disgust off of his face, “don't remind me.”

you grin, “heh, how come? we can just send you alone. we'll win anyway.”

“always gotta do all the work,” he groans, then leans his head back, fixing you with a knowing look from the corner of his eye, “aren't you going to hold my hand?”

“want me to?”

his throat bobs, the simple question alone making his breath stumble as if he was walking down a dark alley, and hearing your voice had given him goosebumps. his voice is steady when he answers, “yeah.”

with one arm securing your precious yukihara, you reach over and take his hand. his larger fingers slide over yours, catching.

“so spoiled,” you tease. he lifts your hand to press his lips to your skin. now it's your heart's turn to waver. his eyes are crinkled happily, the crescent of his smile lighting up in the growing shadows. there's something playful hiding there, too, something secretive that he wouldn't share until he was sure you'd like it, and that patience of his, newfound and endearing, spreads like sweet nectar down your throat and bubbles a giggle.

“yep,” he agrees, so delighted his nose scrunches adorably.

you could stay like this forever, watching and enjoying the thrum and beat of a summer festival. the atmosphere, the laughter and tittering, the low chatter as people find their way from one thing to another. live in this moment, like a firefly caught in a glass jar.

at one point, gojo's cheek rests on your head, and you soak in the warmth. perhaps this is his favorite part. the glow of the lanterns is just the right side of orange and highlights the angles and divots of his face, while his other hand stays coiled around yours, and his thumb rubs small, soothing patterns into your knuckles.

“let's sit it out.”

“hm?”

“the sister exchange event. haibara-kun, nanami-kun, and suguru can participate for us,” you tell him, “we could hide in the clinic with shoko.”

he pulls back from his position, but only so he could survey you properly. his stare is less calculating than it is contemplative. behind his glasses, his eyes are burning quietly. at times, there's something almost solemn glazing over his expression, softening the sharp lines and allowing his features to relax. it makes him seem so much more mature and so unlike himself that you never know how to react.

“can't,” he says with a small sigh, finally coming to stand. he pulls on your hand and you scramble, grappling to keep yukihara from falling along with all of your things, “yaga would definitely beat my ass if i ever tried pulling something. but that doesn't mean i don't want to,” his smile widens, “thank you for the offer, though.”

“wow, a sincere and gracious rejection. thanks, satoru.”

“anytime,” he winks. you flick his forehead.

no pouting this time, though, no furrowed brows or crossed arms. instead, he bites his lower lip and seems to be wrestling with himself not to jump you. he is behaving extremely well by comparison, his touches never bordering on anything even remotely inappropriate for a public settling.

you appreciate the consideration. even despite the crowded space, he is focused solely on you, his finger grazing along your palm, tickling your wrist. if you smile any wider, your cheeks will start hurting. and if he continues looking at you like that over the rim of his sunglasses, your heart will start hurting instead.

“should we head to ashinoko?” you ask, keeping yukihara close, “or will there be too many people there?”

“probably, but it doesn't matter,” he reassures, “we'll find a spot. worst case scenario i'll let you sit on me. my shoulders, to be exact.”

how would you explain the sudden rush of blood to your head? “that won't be necessary...”

“why not? can't get much of a better view. and you get to play with my hair, too,” he tacks on, “or maybe i could hold your legs and give your-”

you take back everything you thought of good behavior and growth as a person, he is nothing but a lewd pest wanting to embarrass you in the middle of a romantic setting, the absolute traitor, and you have half a mind to stomp him to death right then and there. all the private tutors in the world couldn't teach him manners, and no stifling house rules could condition him out of his shit eating grin.

he is terrible, and you like him still, more and more each day. even now, when he looks on the verge of laughing, so pleased to have flustered you, while you try and fail not to panic.

“kidding,” he assures, “mostly. i would, if you asked.”

“satoru, pl-”

“wouldn't even question it.”

“sa-”

“got a list of places i could put my mouth. just say the word.”

you've lost. completely and irrecoverably. your shoulders slump, too tired to continue picking the pieces of your shattered dignity, “yes, yes, i get it. please stop talking.”

he shrugs, unbearably nonchalant considering he basically propositioned to make you cum between fireworks displays, “if you insist.”

unruffled by any objections, like he'd simply whisk you away to somewhere secluded should you demand him to, and it would be so easy. like he's itching for a chance, a sign, a simple smile. like he'd drop to his knees if you only said yes. you're almost appalled by his shamelessness, yet that, unfortunately, is part of his charm as well.

still, what a tease. you wish yukihara wouldn't have to hear such things. your dear penguin doesn't deserve to experience such trauma so early into your care. you are so very sorry.

“then...” you steer the topic back to where it's mostly harmless, not counting his smug look that would haunt you till the end of days, “let's go?”

“okie-dokie.”

you fall back into the crowd and lose all traces of rhythm. children push past you, twittering and shrieking, with their chaperones stumbling after them and rapidly bowing apologies left and right. the ground is smooth beneath your feet, stone flattened in ages by carts and soles alike. the two of you branch off and enter a lesser known forest path to avoid the onslaught of people rushing to see the performance at the hakone shrine before the fireworks.

the change in scenery is instantaneous. the suffocating density of bodies disappears, as well as the oppressive humidity. it's darker without the fairy lights and lampposts, the cicadas overlapping everything else. the air smells like fern, cut grass, and wet tree bark, oddly fresh and cool closer to the lake.

gojo stores his sunglasses into a discreet inner pocket. his eyes glint under a stretch of tree shadow, emitting a faint bluish glow, not bright enough to lighten his features yet remaining ever present. ever so beautiful. the woods seem to sigh around you, branches fluttering nervously above as he leans in, almost a specter.

“what's wrong?” your question brushes against the fringes of his hair.

“you're looking at me funny.”

“i am? sorry.”

“like you have so much you want to say.”

“oh,” you blink, then stare down at your shoes. a fallen maple leaf rustles when you step on it, giving a dry crunch, “not really.”

“yeah, well,” he scratches his cheek, “me too, kinda.”

a soft smile, this time, something private and indulging.

for a while you don't speak, not because you can't think of anything to say, but rather can't choose the right words. none of them seem enough, too sweet or too plain. the small trek through the damp forest path leaves your shoes a bit muddy and the hems of your yukata covered in dry flakes and pine needles, most having already blown away.

you hear it first – the deep, thunderous sounds of drums coming from the direction of the shrine. then, ways down the twisting tree line, you spot dancing lights. closer and closer, and the sounds become powerful enough to shake you, vibrating through the ground up to your legs. you hold on just a bit tighter, and gojo returns the gesture firmly.

he is quiet. his head is bowed, gaze focused ahead and somewhere else at the same time, like he's thinking about other things, which, knowing him, can be anything. he leads you off the path and you follow, passing between the foliage and low hanging branches. the weather grows colder. you're approaching the shore.

finally, the landscape clears. a thin border of black pines separates water from earth. wisteria vines drape over the whole scene like curtains on windows, billowing gently. the noise of the show is still loud and beats to the drum of your heart, each thud somehow too close and too obvious. from here, you can see the massive red torii gate stood in the shallows.

the water sloshes by your feet, and the sandy soil squishes pleasantly. far and wide, there are others waiting, too, all finding their own spots amongst the reeds and gravel. a few lanterns float in the moonlit surface of lake ashinoko, bright and orange, like the ones in the market district, and you watch, captivated, as their reflections spill over the shifting water. the chimes wind up to a symphony. it's beautiful.

gojo tilts his head to you, and his lips move, but you can't hear what he's saying.

“what?” you call, ticking a waiting ear in his direction.

the boom cuts through everything, the flash of gold drowning out his face, and you realize way too late what's happening. the crackle continues, and the air trembles, releasing another burst of fireworks. the light leaves fractals dancing over him, each one landing just so, as if aimed, cascading over his eyelashes.

he repeats the words, and something about his expression makes your heart stutter: longing and apprehension quickly replaced with shyness, almost endearing as he watches you expectantly. the sky glitters around, awash in blues and greens and whites, brilliant enough to blind. you can't look away from him.

he says it again, and again, and again, and you can't read the shape of his mouth because you're too afraid of what you will find there. the drums, the cheers, the changing lights, the words airy against your lips. he kisses you. you understand the phrase now, or you hope that you do, so you tell it back, quietly, so he couldn't hear you either:

“i like you.”

your hand finds purchase on the fabric at his chest. it's tight, and his grip is strong, cradling you with such care you can't help but shiver. each kiss is like that, little sips of air, barely enough to sustain either of you, and then he holds you and you let him, boneless, allowing yourself melt into the sure, enveloping warmth.

the light is dying, and you're dizzy. yukihara sits as a witness between your pounding hearts.

eventually, the display fades away into starlight. you want to say it again, but neither of you are brave enough to do it.

gojo: just waved nanamin and haibara bye bye on their mission 4:56pm

gojo: can’t believe you all left me w ijichi ( ⩌'︿'⩌) 4:57pm

you: where’s shoko? 4:57pm

gojo: clinic like a loser i dont wanna go down there lol might catch smth 4:59pm

gojo: when are u coming back 5:00pm

you: i just got here (˶˃⤙˂˶) but probably in a few hours, i won’t stay overnight 5:01pm

gojo: yeah u wont the hell 5:02pm

gojo: my girl gotta get back to me asap ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧waiting impatinetlyyyyyyy 5:03pm

you: omg lol just bumped into some salaryman and he almost knocked me over. i think he was frightened of my poorly concealed weapon and apologized heh 5:05pm

gojo: where is he? give him ur phone i wanna talk 5:05pm

you: he left already, it’s ok 5:05pm

gojo: teleporting rn 5:06pm

you: ? you can’t do long distances stupid 5:06pm

gojo: yeah and he better be grateful that i cant 5:07pm

gojo: r u done yet want u home 5:41pm

gojo: hello? no ‘yes my gorgeous blue eyed king'? rude 5:42pm

gojo: ok it has been an hour im gonna be serious, did you meet another boy or something? cant wait to murder him 6:33pm

gojo: dont tell me you got kidnapped. i will purple the planet 7:01pm

gojo: 10 mins until i start ripping at the seams and go psycho and rip the roof off the entire city. call me rn, and then, when youre done, i'm stealing you away for a month 7:15pm

gojo: ok in a bad mood now 7:46pm

gojo: we’re talking cthulu levels of bad 8:00pm

gojo: would it be dramatic if i were to jump over a cliff 8:10pm

gojo: hi this is principal yaga gojo has jumped to his death please text back and list everything you love and find sexy about him 8:12pm

gojo: ok ur freaking me the fuck out im coming to get u u can cry abt it later and yaga can scream and shit all he wants grade 3s shouldn’t take this long 8:25pm

gojo: gonna text u till you respond, u know that, right? 2:00am

MISSION REPORT: 15.08.2009

LEAD ASSIGNED OFFICIAL: YAGA MASAMICHI, 1ST GRADE

SORCERER: KAWAKAMI Y/N, 1ST GRADE

PROBLEM DESCRIPTIONS: 3RD CLASS CURSE CONFIRMED DISPELLING PROCESS (UNKNOWN – FIRST RESPONSE TEAMS)

REPORT REGARDING JOB ACCOMPLISHED: KAWAKAMI LOCATED CURSE SITE (CHICHIBU STATION UNDERGROUND) – SCAN FOR TARGET, CRITICAL INJURY; CURSED INHERITANCE-TYPE SPECIAL GRADE – ATTEMPT AT SEALING PROCESS FAILED, DISEASED APPENDAGES, LIMBS & 80% NECROTISED FLESH - UNKNOWN ANGULATION - TIME OF DEATH, 15.08.2009. 5.13PM.

CURSE CONFIRMED DESTROYED: 15.08.2009, 9.59PM, GOJO SATORU.

DEATH REPORTED: 15.08.2009, 11.03PM, GOJO SATORU. BODY RETRIEVED: 12.15AM, MEDICAL TEAM. FINAL EXAMINATION: 2:02AM, IEIRI SHOKO.

ACCELERATED FUNERAL CEREMONY IN EFFECT AS NEXT OF KIN; NONE.

JOB SOLVED: GOJO SATORU.

MISSION REPORT SUBMITTED: NANAMI KENTO, 18.08.2009.

CLOSED.

author's note:

1) so sorry it was planned from the start 2) i do wonder how long satoru would have really sat there in the ground levels of a train station when the fight was over. he did for an hour, but if he had the time, he would likely have spent more time saying goodbye 3) now u know why the cover image of the masterlist is the specific one where gojo wakes up w tears from a dream he had about his school days

before you lynch me, the technique of our dear reader really was in her lastname - kawakami. i'm a big fan of junji ito, and since there's already a ref in jjk of his manga (uzumaki), i though "huh, it would be sooo cool if the mc had a power like tomie!!!" so i wrote this. i wrote a lot of versions, some were a bit scary, so i scrapped them. tomie kawakami's power is essentially being able to clone and heal herself from a single strand of dna, along with a bunch of disturbing stuff, but that's one of the main components of her power.

so here, i present to you an endless amount of endings (2): a) reader has really died, getou has defected, more nice trauma b) reader has not died and returns at any point after the report is submitted, as per her cool powers. getou still defects im sorry some things are doomed by the narrative

either way, u can't get over something like this. megumi? satoru? suguru? shoko? they could never heal from this, no matter if reader came back or not xx

next time i promise to write something where no one dies and there is a happy ending. but for now, that's all, folks! i love u even tho u probably hate me. that's ok. i, too, am gracious and merciful.

tags (couldn't tag in bold!). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @alygator77 , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy , @mydearchoso , @plutoisaghoul , @byerno6 , @bqvz , @harryzcherry , @noira-l , @your-sleeparalysisdem0n , @satoryaa , @cccandynecklaces , @stuffeddeer , @cherriee-ee , @ducky1232

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