#and kinda sorta said he had a skin care routine?

[codecicle]

btw did saturday come early because charlie was ABSOLUTELY wearing eyeliner when he turned the camera on like i didn't just hallucinate that one right

[palbabor-writes]

Impetuous

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT/18+only, cunnilingus, switching, bratting, face-riding, Satoru being Satoru, so he’s chatty & in general the worst  

Words: 12,815

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

Notes: this thing has been languishing in my drafts since like, January. because it was my first step away from BNHA i’ve sorta over analyzed it & edited it, likely to death. but anyway, without further ado, here is my first venture into the JJK fandom! thank you for edits & suggestions: @albinoburrito, @kugutsuu​, @kogo​ & everyone else that i’ve forced to look at this thing. love you all sm & ty for putting up with me!

& it’s gojo because of course it fucking is. 

Impetuous im·pet·u·ous /imˈpeCH(o͞o)əs/ adjective done quickly

“I hate to be a harbinger of bad news, and I can understand your frustration, but that’s what they asked me to do. Doesn’t matter what continent we’re on, elders are elders. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that this teaching pathway is even an option for him.” Although you speak softly, your voice seems to carry more in these close meeting rooms, clattering off the tatami mats and gleaming leather couches.   

Yaga massages the bridge of his nose and adjusts his dark sunglasses before lifting his eyes to yours. “I understand, but I still feel that he would be an asset to our school. As long as his motivations remain pure, that’s all I can ask for, at present.”

“Pure or not,” you continue, lacing your fingers as you cross one leg over the other. “It’s vital to see how he handles himself on these missions. What if he has a student with him? I’ve never seen his fighting style, but I’ve heard he can be reckless. How can he foster confidence and proper growth if he’s not measured on the basics? There’s the additional worry of taking him off of the higher ranked missions. Or, if you elect to keep sending him on them, can he handle both? Can he teach and still be a successful sorcerer and asset?”

“He’ll be expected to do both. He knows this,” Yaga sighs, reaching for his lukewarm cup of tea. “While he’s not known for his conventionality, I don’t think that will interfere with his teaching. As I said, some recent events at the school have helped to illuminate the importance of managing the coming generation. Satoru is confident, and I believe that will translate well to any future students. He’s already taken on some responsibility with young Fushiguro and the boy is doing well under his instruction.”

“Fushiguro?” you ponder. Your school administration and the head elders had given you a list of names, people who represented the top families among Japan’s sorcerers, but you don’t remember seeing a name like Fushiguro among the others.

“He’s related to the Zen’in family,” Yaga explains, spreading his vast hands open as he replaces his tea cup against the low table that rests between the two of you. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, your superiors in America have sent you to Japan to collect a series of reports. One is on the influence of curses and how our alumni comport themselves in the field. The other is the analysis of our teaching styles and to, how did you put it, ‘further diversify your own teaching abilities as a jujutsu educator.’ And, as if that wasn’t possibly enough, to observe our newest teaching candidate, Satoru Gojo.” 

“In a nutshell,” you confirm, a smile quirking the edge of your lips. “We’ve got some missions lined up, right?”

“Yes. You will enter the field with Satoru and one other returning alumna, Shoko Ieiri. She’s finished her medical degree and will join our research facilities in the coming weeks.”

“Oh! She’s the one who can use the reverse healing technique! I’ve heard of her.”

“Yes. She was in Satoru’s class. I realize your report is the main aim that you have here, but I would ask that you keep an open mind. While your report is of value to our school, it will not affect my decision on the matter.”

You lean against the stiff cushions of the couch and cock your head at Yaga’s impassive expression. “Of course,” you assure him, noting that nothing in his outward appearance shifts as you give him the response he was waiting for. “Should be an interesting week, at the very least.”

“Oh,” Yaga replies, finally cracking a less than reassuring grin. “Satoru will make sure of that.”

“Hey! (L/N)-san! The next report is up and they’re sending a manager for us, hurry up! Stop scribbling things in that little notebook. What are you writing anyway? Is it some kinda biography? Oooh! Is it on me? Is that why you keep looking at me? It is, isn’t it? Ahh, now I’m gonna feel self-conscious.”

You snap your notepad closed and slip it into your hip pouch, stepping toward the two fellow members of your team. “It’s just routine notes and you don’t need to call me (L/N)-san. I realize it’s likely force of habit, but please, just call me (Y/N).”

“Ahhh! We’re already on a first name basis! I’m blushing. I’ve never had a girl be this forward with me!” Satoru sighs, clapping his hands against his cheeks and leaning over you. “You’re so bold!”

“Ugh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Liar, and stop that. I’m still the senior sorcerer in this party. I–”

“But you’re just a grade 1,” he interrupts, bracing his hands on his hips and exaggerating his stance, moving his face close to yours. As he looms ever nearer, you raise your chin and hold your ground. This invasion of personal space is a tactic he loves to use. 

At first, you’d figured he was just another one of those guys who weren’t aware how intimidating their sheer height and presence came off to others. However, as the days wore on, you noticed his intentional maneuvering. He would press at Shoko too, but she was better at ignoring him, so he soon turned his full attention to you.

“Yeah, I might only be a grade 1, but they have given me the command on all of our missions. It’s my job to file the reports, a task that you, as the technical ‘junior party’, aren’t trusted to do.”

“You’re so right! That’s a tremendous responsibility. How do you stand under all that pressure (Y/N)! The role of the pencil pusher is such a big job. I should act right! Or I’ll never be a real jujutsu sorcerer! God, look at this Shoko, we need to get our shit together! At this rate, we’ll never be able to file our own reports!”

“Now, now,” you tut, raising a finger in front of your face, forcing him to take a subconscious step backwards. “Watch what you say, after all, you’re wanting to become a teacher. So some part of the masochism of endless paperwork must appeal to you.” 

Satoru’s smooth lips raise into a broad smirk and pulls away, arching his arms behind his pale head. “Hmm, I’ll give you that one (Y/N). Mainly because of your choice of wording. Masochism. What a word for it. And why’d you have to say it so straight faced? Oh, that reminds me, what time is our next mission at?”

“Uh, why did masochism remind you of that?” you pause, lifting your wrist so you can check the time on your watch. “I think it’s in two hours, give or take traffic.”

“Hmm, and it’s in the Chiba district?”

“Yeah, that’s in Tokyo, right?”

“It is,” Shoko chimes in, twirling a lock of her long brown hair between two of her fingers. Her low voice reminds you, and you turn to face her. “Speaking of names, I never asked, would you prefer Shoko or Ieiri?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, lifting her tawny eyes to yours, catching some of the bright sunlight as it fades into the deep circles under her eyelids. The contrast makes her skin look even more pallid. “First name, last name, whatever is easier.”

“Shoko okay with you then?”

“Sure,” she nods, the ghost of a smile lifting her lips. 

“Oi!” Satoru interrupts, slinging an arm over Shoko’s shoulder and fixing you with a pointed look. Or you assume he is, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking because of those white strips of cloth that obscure his eyes. “You know what’s in Chiba, don’t you?”

You blink at him, unsure if this is another one of his aimless questions or something genuine. “No. Should I?”

“You’re a tourist and you really don’t know what’s in–”

“We’ve already been over this Satoru; I am not a tourist,” you protest. “I’m here on official business from my administration to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, special, ‘top secret’ assignment or not, you’re still basically a tourist because it’s your first time to Japan. You’re honestly telling me you didn’t look up anything before you arrived?”

“Um,” you waver, eyes narrowing at the cheerful leer that’s drifting over Satoru’s angular features. “I looked up some basic things. I know about the Shinjuku and Roppongi districts. Oh, and Harajuku, that’s a big one too.”

“Mmhm, very good, my little tourist, but do you know what’s in the Chiba district?”

“Don’t call me that and stop screwing around Satoru. If this has nothing to do with the mission, then I’m not interested. I could care less what’s in the district–”

“Might just be rumors, but I’ve been hearing about an increase in cursed activity. Especially around that theme park. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he looks upward, pearlescent hair tumbling behind his wrappings. “I guess it’s not surprising that it’s a hot spot, what with all the people who are always checking it out. It’s pretty famous.” 

Tch. He’s not gonna tell you. 

You suck your teeth and twist your hand back to your hip pouch, digging for your phone. As you peer over the search results you can hear him rambling on about the notoriety of the unnamed place but as soon as you hit the second result, your head whips back up. 

There’s no way. 

Of course you’d heard of it, you’d even thought about it when the higher ups asked you to take on the assignment to Japan, but never, not in a million years, would you have figured that you’d have a chance to go. Not on this trip.

“Are you serious?” you breathe, blinking up at his smug face. Satoru doesn’t answer, just pops one hand under his chin and gives you a shit-eating grin. You look back at your phone and bite your lip, doing your best to contain your budding excitement, double checking the map for the district.

If he’s not pulling some kind of elaborate joke, it looks like Tokyo Disneyland is the location of your next mission.

“What… what the fuck is this, some kinda elaborate joke??” 

The gates to the amusement park are warped, and the paint is peeling; one side looks like it’s about to melt off of the frame, all twisted metal and faded rust. Just past the gates you can see what looks like an old merry-go-round, complete with lions, tigers, bears and several sets of horses. At the tip-top of the ride rest a star, and atop that star is a wraith like curse. It spindles around the flecks of gold and cool bronze, baring its teeth at the three of you and sputtering a long line of broken speech as it twists and turns. 

“Huh, still looks about the same. This place was enormous when I was a kid. Now it’s a trendy spot for ghost hunters and thrill seekers! I think five or six people died here last year.” Satoru grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strides forward. In seconds, he’s beside the curse on the merry-go-round, silencing chittering of its inane dialogue, letting an eerie quiet seep over the rest of the abandoned grounds.

“So stupid. I cannot believe I let him make me think we were going to Disneyland. You know what he’s like, Shoko! Why didn’t you tell me? He–”

“I honestly don’t listen to him. No idea he was making you think this was Tokyo Disney,” Shoko interrupts, already following the path Satoru took, tucking her brown hair behind her neck with a loose hair tie. “But since we’re here, could you lower the curtain and take care of those level 2 curses on the ticket booth?”

You let out a long sigh and toss her a quick affirmative, reciting the familiar incantation, watching as the darkening shield slopes its way down from the skies, sheltering the three of you within its haze.

The first set of curses are easy enough and you swiftly take care of them, unleashing your cursed technique and splicing them into faded dust. How ridiculous, you think, opening the door to the booth and dodging an ill timed lunge from a sneakier curse who was hiding inside. Satoru honestly had you thinking that you’d be going to the Disneyland theme park. On the way over, he’d even told you about the layout of the park and what potential curses might be lurking about. 

What a jerk. 

Still, you muse, turning toward another shrieking hulk of a curse that’s lumbering toward you, it’s impressive he’d led you on so easily. You make a mental note to get back at him later, for now you need to clear this area and focus on the task at hand. 

“I cannot believe that you led me on like that!” you pout, knocking back a small swig of beer.

“Pfft,” Satoru chuckles, wagging one long finger at you. “Didn’t ever say it was gonna be Disneyland, did I? You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“Oh please! Making me look up what ‘famous tourist spots are in Chiba’ and then nodding each time I said I was excited to see some of the rides on the way over.”

“You could have really been into haunted carnivals. How was I supposed to know?”

“Ass,” you snap playfully, sticking your tongue out at his pleased smile. 

After the mission and spotting your peeved expression, Satoru had insisted that you let him take the two of you out for a drink. According to Shoko, the bar in this neighborhood was highly rated and had some of the best specials in the entire district. 

The place was packed; but somehow Shoko had secured three seats up at the bar top, ushering you to sit between her and Satoru, informing you there must always be a three foot buffer between her and ‘that loser’. The bartender seemed to know her and, before you could pull yourself into the worn leather seat, three foaming lagers were passed across the rough surface of the bar top, one for each of you. 

“Thanks,” you’d murmured, cupping your hands around the glass. On your right, Satoru pushed his lager toward you, raising two fingers at the distracted barkeep as he chatted with Shoko. “What’s wrong? Don’t like beer?” you’d asked, bemused by his disgruntled expression. 

“Nah,” he’d confirmed, wagging his digits a little faster, chin lifting as he let out a huffed exhale. “Messes with my eyes. I want something to eat, though. Hey! Shoko! Stop flirting with him and ask if they have anything sweet! Shokooo! Don’t ignore me!”

Shoko made a show of rolling her eyes but, a few minutes later, a plate of piping hot fried sweet buns appeared and he’d swiftly grabbed up one, popping it in his mouth and smacking it hungrily. You’d turned to ask Shoko what they were, but by the time you’d twisted back to Satoru over half of the cakes were gone. 

“Damn, you inhaled them,” you’d exhaled, a little shocked he could scarf them down that quickly.

“Well, they’re not bad and hit the spot, for now,” he’d grinned. “Want one?”

“I’m good. You might bite my finger if I get too close… mistake it for one of the buns…”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Think you wouldn’t taste good?”

“Yikes,” you laugh and Satoru hums, clearly pleased with your genuine mirth.

Shoko, who was soon engrossed in conversation with a few of the other patrons to the left of her, kept ordering rounds for the both of you. To keep up, you diligently sipped at each fresh beer, careful to keep abreast of the thrum of the alcohol with several responsible swigs of water. Satoru seemed content with his small order of sweets and peppered you with questions about life in America. He asked about what grade year you taught, the ins and outs of curses within the states and how you liked Japan. He kept things lively and made a point to throw in a few lighthearted jokes at you, beaming each time you laughed at his barbs. 

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no one in America quite like me?” he teases, stretching his long arms dramatically before leaning closer to you.

“Stop that! You’re gonna hit someone,” you grin, trying to shove at his side, watching as your hand freezes in midair, held off by his limitless technique. “Seriously? You’ve still got that on?”

“Mmhm,” Satoru intones. “24/7, 365!”

“You would,” you try to jostle him again, bemused by the fraying and shimmering sliver of infinity that rests between the two of you.

“It’s a tremendous strain on my brain, you know,” he bemoans, dropping his head and fixing a long frown over his lips.

“You deserve it.”

“Ack!” Satoru cries out, clutching at his heart. “Wow! No sympathy! You really gonna treat me like this? My senpai?”

“May I remind you - Tokyo Disneyland,” you intone, glaring at his haggard expression. 

“WOW. You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” Satoru cracks a face, arching his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, letting a high pitched, cracked voice leech from his lips. “Ahhh, that damned man! He deprived me of my dreams! The chance to see Tokyo Disneyland, one last time!”

“What is that? Me? But… old?”

“Pretty good, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it was uncanny!” he crows, nodding.

“What in your warped mind makes you think I’ll sound anything like that when I’m old?” you ask, pushing your empty beer pint forward as you purse your lips. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over the idea of a theme park,” he ponders, tapping a bent index finger against his smooth chin. “Don’t you guys have them in the states? The Disney parks, I mean.”

“We do, we have two. But, since you made me think we were coming to Tokyo Disneyland, I looked up some rides,” you snatch your phone from the counter, scrolling through a few photos before you land on the right one. “Ah! Here it is! Look at this! See?” you chirp, pushing the gleaming screen of your phone toward him.

“Uh. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Tower of Terror!”

“Which is… ummm… a ride?”

“Yeah? And look at it! It’s upside down! I don’t think the one in America does that,” your finger reaches toward your phone and you blow up the closest image, tapping at the bright colors. Satoru laughs and waves a hand up, attracting the bartender once more and gesturing for another beer for you. “Imma get you another drink, you’re fun like this, plus, you’re just too cute with that little smile.”

You miss his last comment, wholly focused on finding another set of images. “Oh my God! Look! During Halloween they have a night parade in front of it! And… ahhh! Satoru! There’s a green ghost at the top! It’s almost like that curse we saw tonight at the carnival!” 

His long fingers snatch up your bright device, and he yanks it away from your wide eyes. “Ok, that’s enough of that. I’m worried you might end up cursing me for not taking you.”

You give him a sour look and vainly try to grab your phone back, fingers unable to pass through his unseen barrier. “What? No fair! I still don’t understand how you can always have this up!”

“Practice,” he taunts, shaking his head at your determination and wandering touch, chuckling each time you bounce off of his cursed technique. “On another note,” he begins as your new lager is placed in front of you. “What’s in that report that you’re working on?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he’s still holding your phone and cautiously sip past the foam of your fresh beer, peering up at him, studying the lines of his white cloth. It doesn’t tell you much, so you look at his lips instead. They’re pale, but they’re held in a serious line, so you carefully construct your response. “What makes you think I have a report?”

“Why else would you be here?” Satoru counters, rapping his nails against the warped wood of the bar top. “I know you met with Yaga and you’re too cautious and overpowered to be sent on missions with Shoko and me. So you must be here for something else.”

“Officially,” you concede, “I’m here to observe the teaching techniques and skills of the alumni of your school. I’m sure this will come as no shock, but curses are getting more powerful, both here and overseas, and we’re doing our best to keep ahead of those changes. I’m supposed to pick up what tricks I can and bring them back home, to see how we can implement it.”

“Reasonable,” he allows, spreading his fingers before coiling them under his palms again. “But that’s not everything, is it?”

No, you think it’s not. 

You lower your beer and look over at him. He’s braced himself against the bar and his head is dipped so his chin is almost against his breastbone. He doesn’t exactly look dejected, but you can see that he’s thinking deeply and something about that openness makes your heart squeeze. He looks a bit like a kicked puppy. 

Ugh, he’s not a bad guy. He’s funny, and he knows what he’s doing, plus he has the confidence to get where he needs to go. In all honesty, he wouldn’t make a terrible teacher. Maybe not the best, but he certainly wouldn’t be the worst. 

“I–there… there’s some concern you’d be too divided - that it’s not practical to have you teach and go on missions. I also don’t think your own elders trust you much.”

“Ah-ha!” Satoru beams, springing upward and pointing two finger guns at you. “You are here to look in on me! Knew it!”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Fine, fine, you got me. Let’s get this over with, huh? So we can get back to talking about things other than work, I liked that. What’s the most direct thing I can ask? Hmm, oh! I’ll start with something easy–Why do you want to teach?”

“That’s easy?” he whines, head falling again. 

“It’s straightforward,” you bargain, propping your chin on your fist, looking him over. 

“Sure, let’s pretend that’s not a deceptively loaded question! Alright, well, it’s the best way to change things.”

“Change things?”

“Yup. Like you mentioned, lately curses have become more powerful and lately it feels like I’m the only one who’s being sent on these high-level missions. Frankly, it’s stupid to rely on just me that much, you know? That’s not practical, or even realistic. So, to my mind, it’s vital I throw my support behind some of these up-and-coming kids. You know, foster the next generation and all that. I want reliable allies in the field and to have that, I’ve gotta make sure they’re taught right. Give them everything I know, make them better than me, stronger than me.” 

You’re quiet for a long breath, eyes wide, fingers frozen around your glass, which was midway to your lips. “Damn,” you smile, letting the word hang. “You know, that was actually a pretty good answer.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and curls his lips in a grimace. “Don’t sound so surprised.” 

“I mean,” you chuckle and look up at him, eyes bright. “Well, your attitude doesn’t always inspire confidence.” 

“Ahhhhhh,” he groans, thumping his covered forehead against the bar. “Such a low blow! Bartender! Another round for me!”

“Please,” you sigh, finally taking a sip of your beer. “Do not call your sweet buns ‘another round.’” He grins at you and leans across the bar top, shifting his weight toward your bent arm. The pressure of his shoulder is warm and you nudge at him a little, playfully. He tuts at you but continues to stare ahead, a faint smile teasing the edge of his lips. 

As the bartender slides the requested plate of sweets down, you suddenly realize that you’re touching him. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn your head toward his. He’s not looking at you, content with chewing on his sweet bread, but he’s still braced against you. It’s like all of your senses are finely tuned to that one spot of faint friction between the two of you. You can feel the lines of his muscled arm as he shifts and you involuntarily gulp, doing your best to ignore the abrupt thudding of your heart. 

He said he always kept it up, didn’t he? Something about 24/7 and all the days of the year, so why is he…

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice startles you and you instinctively slide closer to Satoru, arm dragging against his shoulder as you try to right yourself again. “I’m gonna go win this drinking contest these guys have started. You two sticking around for a bit?”

“Uh,” you begin, but Satoru cuts you off, draping an arm over the back of your chair. “Yeah, we’ll be here. What are the stakes?”

“Not sure. But the pot is likely against me, if you’re in a betting mood.”

“Sure, I’ll put 20,000 yen on you.”

“Is…” you start, but Shoko is already walking off, one arm pumped into the air as she shoulders her way to the long table that’s filled with five or six others, all of them holding a full pint glass of beer between their hands. You turn back to Satoru and let out a long breath. “Is that safe?”

“Huh?” he asks, face close to yours. You can smell his cologne from here and the heady scent of him and crisp patchouli fills your senses. “I mean Shoko, will she be ok?” you elaborate, eyes studying the space where his own would be, silently hoping that he’ll pull down the barrier that covers half of him from your curious gaze. 

“Ah,” he nods sagely, leaning back a little to look out at where Shoko is sitting, quietly waiting for the start of the game with her full beer. “She’s got a ridiculously high tolerance. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of her cursed technique. She’ll be fine.”

“True, she likely knows the limits of the human body better than anyone else. But… I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so… excited?” you muse, sitting against your chair and running into the flat palm of Satoru’s hand. For a moment, you debate shifting away, but he’s not really doing anything, just letting the tips of his fingers rest against the curve of your spine, tapping a disjointed rhythm as he watches the start of the contest, that all too familiar smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“She used to be a little more laid back, you know?” he replies, leaning a little harder into your side as he lowers his voice, keeping close to your ear so you can hear him. “She always looks so tired now and her whole outlook has changed, but I suppose four years of med school will do that to you. Although, I did hear that she cheated her way out.”

“No!” you gasp, eyebrows lifted in shock. Satoru laughs, and for once, you’re not thinking it might be at your expense. “Yeah! Just the word on the street. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Shoko’s always done her best to avoid things, namely confrontation or extra work, so it makes sense she’d jet outta med school as fast as she could too.”

“That’s crazy and frankly, terrifying.”

“Riiight?” he shivers, lips raising in an exaggerated wince. “But that’s our Shoko. I’ve got a feeling she’ll do well at the school and I’m grateful I’ll have time to work with her again. It’s been way too long…” Satoru trails off and you can feel his hand slip up your back, fingers ghosting over your shoulder blades.

“Stop that,” you scold, shaking him off with a quick jolt and twisting around to look at his roguish smirk. “What happened to always maintaining your barrier?”

“Awe” he groans, dunking his head against your shoulder with a thump. “Come on, I’ve gotta win you over somehow!”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, I want the job.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you threaten, doing your best to keep your bubbling amusement contained. 

“Try it,” he taunts, lifting his head and keeping his face close. His nose is inches from yours and you can barely make out his sharp grin, but you can feel the drag and pull of his breath as it passes over you, leaving a lingering sweetness against your skin. Instantly, your hand lifts to him, fully intent on shoving him back, but you can’t move any closer, trapped by the sudden emergence of his infinity. 

“Ass,” you prickle, shaking your head at his antics. Another peal of laughter falls from his soft lips and you can’t help but smile back, caught up in his infectious joviality. “Tch. Don’t make me find more Tokyo Disney pictures.”

“You can’t,” he informs you, cocking his head at your confusion. “I still have your phone.”

“Hey! Give that back!” you gasp, snatching blindly at him. He shifts back into his seat and yanks your device out of his pocket, waggling it tauntingly in front of you. “Uh-uh! Gotta get past the barrier first!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Never said that I’d make this… oh! Shoko! How did it go? Win me something?”

You twist and spot Shoko’s dark head approaching the two of you. She pauses beside Satoru and flips a large stack of bills down on the bar top, a wide grin on her usually impassive face. “As expected, I won. Here’s your cut, Satoru. Don’t spend it all in one place or on another order of sweet buns, would you? Think you can do that for me?” 

She and Satoru bicker back and forth playfully as you unfold several of the notes, aimlessly organizing them on the countertop as their brisk conversation winds back down.

“So,” Shoko murmurs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and knocking one free from the carton. “You two gonna head out soon? I don’t really see a need to call one of the managers, the school’s close by and so is (Y/N)’s hotel.” 

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, finally passing your phone back as he collects the neatly stacked set of yen from you. “Figured, I’d see her back.”

“I can find it!” you protest, jamming your phone safely into your pouch once more.

“Sure,” he mocks, arching toward you as he braces an elbow against the bar. “You can barely speak Japanese and I know you can’t read much kanji, but sure thing, let’s let you loose in the city. See how far you make it before you’re calling one of us, hmm?”

“That’s not… I–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru waves his hand back and forth and turns back to Shoko. “I’ll let her finish her drink and then we’ll head out. See you tomorrow?”

Shoko nods at his question and, for a moment, you think you spy a knowing look pass between the two of them, but before you can call out to her, Shoko is already making her way toward the door.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes narrowed as Satoru looks down at you, white hair gleaming under the low lights. “What?” he asks innocently, propping his chin onto his open palm. “That look that the two of you just gave each other.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. You sure that beer didn’t hit you a little too hard?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Despite it being late August, a cool breeze greets the two of you when you step out of the bar. “It’s so nice out,” you comment, readjusting your boots as you hop onto the sidewalk. 

“Mmhm,” he agrees, bracing his arms behind his head as you make your way down the street. “So did you decide what you’re gonna write in your report?”

You glance up at him and make sure he can see you rolling your eyes. “Back to trying to butter me up?”

“Never! Just asking. If you wanna say I’m crazy and can’t be trusted, that’s fine. I can think of a few others who’d agree with you.” 

“Oh? Who?”

“Most people,” he laughs, stepping a little nearer and bumping against you, shocking you with the actual weight and warmth of his body again. As you continue on, you lift your hand to his arm and press the pad of your finger against his sleeve. This time, nothing bars your way so you run the digit slowly along his arm, smiling when he shivers and bats you away. 

“Stop that! Someone’s gonna see and think you’re taking advantage of me!”

The laugh that explodes from your chest at that mental image makes you stop dead in your tracks, arms lacing around your shaking stomach. Satoru scoffs at your bent figure and leans down, shaking his head at your guffawing.

 “The… the… fact that you… think that anyone… would think that… I–” 

“You’re lucky your laugh is so cute,” he muses, bracing his arms over your bent back, playfully pinning you down as he crosses his forearms.

“Hey!” you protest, squirming under his hold. “Let me up!”

“Tell me what you’ve written about me!” he threatens, chuckling as you squirm under him.

“I only said that Satoru Gojo is an absolute monster and shouldn’t be trusted with anyone’s future,” you cry out, overly pantomiming your overwrought expressions, peeking up at him from under his laced arms.

“Oh? Just that? Well, you’re right. So, fair is fair!” Satoru replies, slipping off of you so fast that you nearly tumble to the hard concrete. Half a beat later, he’s back in front of you and lifting you back to your full height, fingers soothing over your arms as he tugs you toward him. “Would it kill you to toss in a bit of praise? Talk about my undeniable prowess and skill? Wax poetic about my stunning efficiency? You know, make them think that I’ve won you over with my charms. After all, you can’t resist me, can you?”

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

A distant quake dashes up your spine, but it’s not from the chill in the air. “Uh, you sure you didn’t sneak some shots under the table? The way you’re pawing at me, you’d think you were the one in the drinking contest.”  

“Nah, I told you, I don’t drink. Messes with my eyes.” Satoru pats his index finger against his white wrappings for emphasis.

“Mmm, the six eyes, right? Powerful ability, from what little I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s a rare technique. Wanna see?”

You’d walked on, but once the question leaves his lips your feet swivel back, as if they have a mind of their own. He’s standing where he was, hands dug into the pockets of his pants, a lazy smile resting on his lips. The moonlight makes his hair shine, and the gleam is bright against the darkness of the street. The glow makes him look taller, imposing. He’s quiet as he waits for your answer and you take advantage of the extra time to mull over the strange man in front of you. 

He’s enigmatic; a force to be reckoned with, for curses and fellow sorcerers alike and, like most jujutsu users, a little crazy. Even knowing all of this, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s like the pull of a magnet. It tugs at the forefront of your mind and makes you step closer, wanting to see if you can unravel the puzzle that’s Satoru Gojo. 

“Fine,” you hear yourself reply, crossing your arms, steadfastly watching for his next move. “Go on. Let me see what all the hype is about.”

He grins and that mischievous look makes your heart beat race against your breastbone as yet another quake slips up your back. “Ready?” he asks, right thumb hooking under the fabric that covers his eyes. You nod once and the pad of his finger starts that short, upward, pull. 

He’s slow, painfully slow, in his unveiling. 

The smooth angle of his upper cheek peeks out, and he’s careful to roll up the white cloth as he goes. Then, right as he hits the groove of his lower eye, he stops, a frown pulling over his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know…” he contemplates, holding his thumb under his wrappings. “What if I don’t live up to your expectations? Can’t let you down. Not when you’ve been so patient. I know you’ve been wanting to ask, I can see it in your face. Every time we’d start an exorcism you’d look at me, like you were waiting, watching to see if I’d finally take off the coverings.”

Did you? 

Does it matter?

Do you want it to matter?

Flabbergasted by his all too true accusations and entirely eaten up with curiosity, you march up to him and wrap your fingers around his raised wrist, not noticing that you’re actually touching him and completely unaware of the alluring smile he flashes when your hand coils around his. “Ugh, come on! For once in your life, stop being such a tease! You’re never fair, always so… so pompous and… and–”

You’d shoved his hand upward as you began your preamble but as soon as the tightly wrapped cloth passed over his right eye you feel your breath leave your tensed body. 

His eyelashes are pale, the same ashen color as his hair, but they contrast beautifully with the lone eye that peers down. Beautiful? No, it’s more than that. It’s… it’s…

Truthfully, it’s indescribable and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It’s blue; but it’s not an ordinary shade. No, the color seems to meld and shift before your shocked gaze, drifting from hue to hue as the color deepens and lightens. Clouds. It’s like clouds passing over a summer sky. The brightness of the cerulean ensnares you, and you can feel your mouth go dry as you stare up at him. 

His eyes are stunning, perfect, and irresistible, hauntingly so.

“So, what do you think?” Satoru asks, pulling his wrist from your grasp and snatching your limp hand in his, twining his long fingers between your own. His skin is warm and you need to say something, anything, but your mind is stuttering, lagging miles behind as you fall headfirst into the overwhelming pull of his presence. 

Finally, you unstick part of your tongue. 

“They’re… uh… I don’t… ha… God…” You shake your head roughly and the familiarity of that motion slips out of the trance he’s placed you under. As soon as you can think again, you jerk your hand from his and blindly walk down the darkened street. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and you can’t stop nibbling on your lower lip. 

It’s not… this isn’t how this is supposed to go, you think, trying vainly to get the shine of Satoru’s eyes out of your mind.

“Never answered my question,” Satoru coos beside you, his long legs quickly catching up with you. “What’s wrong? You like em’ a little too much?… Or…” 

“They… they’re kinda creepy,” you blurt out, fingers curling into your palms. 

“Creepy!” he gasps, hopping in front of you and lifting up both sides of his wrappings, granting you a peek of both eyes. You do your best to avoid looking at him head on, turning and weaving from him, but he dances closer each time you shift. Damn it. His animated performance makes you exhale a quiet chuckle, and he takes your amusement as a sign to continue, constantly placing himself in your way with a broad grin. 

“Stop!” you plead, openly laughing at his sudden burst of silliness. “Now you’re acting like a creep! Satoru! Don’t! Stop showing them to me! You’re losing all of your appeal! Isn’t part of your charm the mystery? Actually, that’s likely all of your charm. Come on, stop it, there’s a cop on that street corner, he’s gonna think you’re drunk and harassing me!”

“Whaaat!” Satoru gulps, whipping his head around to look at the tired policemen that’s leaning against a dim street lamp. “Oh no! The police! Quick (Y/N), before he spots us!” His long fingers snatch up your pliant wrist and he tugs you into a dark alleyway. 

“Hey! Where are you taking me? Officer!” you call out playfully as you balefully follow him, dragging your feet along the dusty ground. “He’s over here! Help!”

“Oi! Knock it off! You wanna get me arrested?”

“Oh please, there’s no way that guy is about to follow–”

“Shit! Shhh, he’s coming this way! Come on!” The sheer force of his grip yanks you forward and you stumble after him. He takes the corner of the next alleyway and the pair of you dash along the wet patches that litter the broken concrete. He’s moving at a tremendous speed, but his feet barely make a noise as he glides over the grimy ground and it takes everything you’ve got to just hold on and keep up.  

A few twists and turns later, you can finally see the bright lights of the busy street that your hotel is on and you feel a heavy exhale of relief leave your burning lungs. Satoru skids to a halt right before he tumbles onto the safety of the sidewalk that rests a few paces ahead and pulls you beside him, grinning down at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“I think we lost him!” he beams and you suck your teeth as you bend over, hands bracing themselves against your knees. “There…there’s no… he wasn’t actually chasing us. Even if he was, I doubt he can catch up now….” your voice trails off as you hear a distant shout from the alleyway and the thud of heavy boots. 

No. There’s no way you think dumbly as you stare into the darkness, eyes searching for movement. 

“See? I told you he was on to us. He’ll see us if he comes this way. What if… Oooh, lemme try something,” Satoru’s broad hands grab at you and he swiftly maneuvers you against the damp brick of the nearest building, careful not to scrape your back as he pushes you against the rust colored siding. “Just play along, I doubt he’ll notice. Don’t give me that look, it’s your fault he’s following us!”

“My fault? I didn’t… oh–”

His lips are sleeker than you’d imagined. 

That first, teasing kiss he gives you already has you lifting your head, following the beguiling smoothness of his mouth, silently asking him for another caress. When he leans down your hands bunch into the dark fabric of his uniform and you can feel his smile against your slackened lips. He doesn’t touch you; his fingers don’t wander to the back of your jaw or the dip of your skull, instead he opts to flatten his angles against your curves, pressing until you can’t feel anything but him. 

The next kiss he gives you has a little more bite behind it, literally. 

His sharp nose bumps your cheek and his teeth worry against the plush swell of your lower lip, sucking and nipping until you’re snatching for his shoulders, searching for some kind of leverage. His mouth parts and right when you think he’s about to deepen his strokes and teasing pecks, he leans back and cocks his head at your flustered expression. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he tells you, bracing one of his arms above your head. “It looks so fun in the movies.”

That cop could be right behind him, could be waiting for you both to stop your ridiculous routine and face the harsh gleam of reality, but you don’t care, not right now. 

Your hands had fallen from him when he pulled back, and the absence of his warmth makes you desperate to touch him again. But, when you snatch at the corners of his dark jacket, you’re met with that damned barrier. 

“Really?” you bemoan, licking at your kiss slick lips, trying again. “You’re the worst, you know that? You let me get used to the idea of having access to you and then just cut it–mmmph…” 

With a faint shudder of space, his barrier is lowered once more and his lips are back against yours. This time, his hands join in and he cups his fingers behind your ears, tilting you up as he glides his soft touch over you until you’re groaning. 

“Could have just told me you wanted more…” he rumbles in between his caresses, fingers tracing over the line of your jaw, your neck, and the slope of your shoulders. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to go and you love the momentary burst of indecisiveness that’s broken over him. 

More, apparently, entails you asking him to come up to your room. 

He’d laughed when you’d mentioned it, your lips swollen and glassy from his attentions, and you’d almost taken it back, peeved by his genuine amusement at the idea, but then he’d plucked you into his arms and smoothed any lingering doubts with another flurry of nips and kisses. 

“This gonna make it into your report?” he grins, yanking his high collared jacket off and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. “I should,” you barb, pulling the long band of your hip pouch off, letting it clatter to the ground as your fingers work up the buttons of your own uniform. “Let them think that you’re abusing your status.” 

“Tch, me? Abuse my power? Never. Hey, I think you’re supposed to go slower with that. Don’t just yank all of your clothes off. You know, take your time, tease me a little,” Satoru chuckles, jerking his chin toward your busy hands.

“Oh? Wanting a show?” you ask, threading the last button and spreading the heavy material apart, revealing the thin shirt that’s obscuring his view of your breasts and stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, because taking all this gear off is never fun, or sexy for that matter…”

“Not with that attitude,” he hums, stepping closer, peeling his skin tight undershirt off and revealing the sleek planes of his rippled muscles. Most sorcerers are fit; and many boast beefier sets of pectorals and curving arches of biceps and triceps, but there’s something about the streamlined leanness of Satoru that’s making your hands itch. He’s not far, you could reach out for him, slip your fingers over the dips and beveled lines of his abdomen and follow that tempting strip of white that winds down the front of his pants, but that makes this too easy and there’s nothing about Satoru that’s easy.

“Mmm, that’s a new look.” His voice is distant to your ears, but the satisfied note that’s vibrating through his words makes you snap your head up, fingernails scraping against your palms. “You look like you wanna eat me (Y/N)… or maybe, taste is a better adjective. Awe, what’s the matter? Worried I won’t let you?”

You run your tongue over your lips and lift one hand, holding it steady and crooking your index finger at his brazen expression, pleased to see that cheeky smile of his falters a little. “Do me a favor, come here and take off that blindfold.”

“Ah-ha, so bossy,” he growls, voice sinking into that sinfully lower octave as he raises his broad hands to the back of his wrappings, unwinding the fabric and slowly advancing toward you. He stops when the tips of his toes are inches from your own, bracing his palms toward his face, holding the last strip across his eyes. “Wanna do the honors? Or are you expecting me to do all the work tonight?”

“As if. Besides…” you snicker, pulling two fingers to the remains of his blindfold and peeling it down, watching as his hair falls forward, slowly divulging the top of his forehead, pale eyebrows and that shock of avid blue that’s already gazing down at you. “I think you like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Ahh, looks like she figured me out,” Satoru groans, letting the ivory bindings fall to the floor, his hands already reaching for your waist. He doesn’t give you an opportunity to study him, but they’ll be time for that later, you reason, arms lacing around his chorded neck. 

This kiss is hungrier and his tongue immediately dances along the seam of your lips, pressing until you give in. It’s an awkward angle, but he expertly adjusts himself to you, slotting a warm palm against the small of your back and raising the other to curl into your hair, lifting you until it’s perfect. 

He’s greedy, devouring every inch you give him with a ravenous edge, but when you suck on his lower lip, he slips into something that’s clearly a little more unhinged. 

Suddenly, he’s the one who’s bending forward, trying to get as close to you as he physically can, hunching until you can trace your fingertips over the sharpness of his jaw. His teeth clink against yours as he snatches you up, and you can feel the sharp bulge of his length, the hardness grinding down your hips and stomach as he yanks you nearer. It’s hard to breathe, but he’s refusing to let you budge, lips avariciously seeking and pulling, leaving you with nothing else but the sheer enormity of his touch.  

“Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting you fall from his grasp, heaving out a few unsteady breaths. “You’ve got way too much on. Why do you still have so much on?” He plucks at your shirt but stops when he frees the edge from your pants, cerulean eyes bright in the moonlight. “Take it off,” he heaves, forehead pressing against yours, lifting his fingers from you. “Take it off for me, please?” 

You nod, a little taken aback by his sudden desperation, and he watches closely as you yank the thin material up, blue eyes shining as you unveil yourself. When the shirt passes over your breasts, he gives you a distracted kiss to the temple before he pulls away, freeing you to pull it over your head and sighing happily when it finally hits the floor, leaving you partially bare. As soon as your arms lower, he’s back against you, hands cupping at your hips, jerking you forward. “Whoa,” you gasp, bracing your palms against his chest. “Slow down. Let me get the rest of this–”

“No, no, no, no,” he chants, fingers smoothing up your spine. “Stop, for a second… just… just gimme a minute. You feel so nice. Your skin, it’s… it’s so warm and so fucking smooth, ahhh. Ohh, yes. A few more seconds (Y/N), just let me… It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone like this. I kinda forgot what it felt like and I don’t wanna let go, not yet.”

His head is bowed and that hauntingly blue gaze is covered by his winced eyelids, but he can’t seem to stop moving. Even as he asks you to hold still, to let him touch you, feel you, he keeps shifting his weight and burrowing his brow into the dip of your shoulder. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nails scritching at the clasp of your bra. “Please? Lemme take it off. Come on. I know you wanna touch me too, I saw how you were looking at me a minute ago. You’re so fucking cute, I can’t… ahaha, fuck, I sound insane. Look, I’ll slow down, I promise, just gimme a little more of you.”

When he mischievously snaps the strap of your bra against your shoulder blade, you can’t help but laugh at his infectious exuberance. His head lifts from you and he turns his attention to your neck, soft lips sucking and nipping at you until you’re wriggling in his hold. “Alright, alright! Just step back, Satoru! I’ll take it off,” you placate, knocking him away and huffing at the long face he gives you in return. “Here,” your fingers unhook the two pronged clasp and the delicate lace slips from your shoulders, falling to the carpeted floor with a hush. “Okay, that’s everything on the top half. Now what are–Ah! Satoru!” 

He takes full advantage of his superior speed and before you can blurt out a proper retort, he’s against you. 

His teeth worry at your earlobe and he immediately hoists you upward, seizing the lush curve of your ass and pulling you into his powerful arms, urging your legs to wrap around his trim waist. When you shakily oblige, he cups one lean arm under you, but the other drags you forward, scraping your newly bared breasts and stiffened nipples against the planes of his powerful pectorals. When he walks, you jostle in his grasp and coil your fingers around his neck, smiling when he moans contentedly at your reliance on his firm hold. “Damn,” he grunts, cocking his head so he can lick a wet circle into your pulse. “You feel fucking good (Y/N). So damn smooth, how are you so soft? God, I want more, I wanna feel everything.”

The front of his shins hit the edge of your bed and he tumbles you down, a dark grin spreading over his face as he watches you stretch out teasingly. He plants a knee into the soft bedding and braces both arms beside your head, leering over you. 

For a long breath, both of you study each other, eyes whisking over gleaming skin and the curves of your faces. Without the added heft of that blindfold Satoru’s snowy hair hangs loosely over his face, straight tendrils clinging to his brow, making him look younger, mellower, and so very handsome. Opting to take advantage of this lull, you reach up and thread your fingers into the silken strands.

When you reach the edge of his temple, you scrape your nails against his scalp, grinning as he lets a heavy exhale fall between his lips, cerulean eyes falling to a pleased half mast. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, gliding a wide palm up your side. You shake your head and keep twirling his hair across your fingertips, marveling at his own softness. “No. I just like your hair.”

“That’s a first,” he snorts, cupping a palm underneath one of your breasts and pulling his thumb over the swelling bud of your nipple. “Here I am, trying to feel you up, and you’re too distracted by my hair to appreciate it. How rude.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, arching into his hand as he tweaks and plucks at your pebbled tip. “You’re lucky I’m even… mmm… letting you do this.”

“Please. It was your idea, remember?”

Satoru lowers one of his braced arms, letting his weight fall heavily to one side as he keeps his deepening ministrations up. Your fingers are still buried in his hair when he drops his lips to your breast. You feel the flick of his tongue first, and the light tap has you bowing your back, gasping out a faint cry as his rough appendage continues to swipe and twirl over your sensitive flesh. Instinctively, your hands tug at his pearlescent strands and he tilts his head up, fixing you with a lazy stare. “That’s better, looks like I just need to refocus you, huh?” he muses, his words half garbled as he sucks your plump breast into his mouth. He keeps flicking his tongue over you as he suckles, lapping and nipping until you’re writhing under him. 

Once he’s satisfied, his free hand lowers to your grinding hips, forcing you to lay flat against the bed, switching his attention to the neglected twin, sucking and pressing open mouthed bites to your damp, shaking skin. 

A tight heat is coiling in your core and your thighs rub against each other, trying to cool the sharp pricks of arousal that are coursing through you. As soon as your hands fall from his head, Satoru picks up his pace, licking his sloppy tongue under your breasts and nibbling his way down your quivering stomach. “You’re still wearing way too much,” he scolds, fingers toying with the gold clasp of your pants. 

“It’s… oh… difficult to take things off when you… ah–won’t let me move more than two feet from you.” You’d meant it to sound a little firmer, but his constant touch is wearing down your focus, distracting you with brilliant flashes of his luminescent blues and whites. 

“Awe, (Y/N),” he whines, popping his hand against your hip, long fingers digging into your swelled curves. “That’s not fair. I told you, I always have my barrier up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone, anyone? I mean really touched them?”

“Daw,” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering down at him. “You poor thing. The all powerful Satoru Gojo, too honed and practiced with his neutral technique that he can’t even hold anyone’s hand.” 

“Ha, such a jerk,” he laughs, exaggerating a wounded frown. “I bare my soul to you and this is how I’m treated?” 

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoff, yanking your legs from under him and popping up on your knees, hands reaching for him, curling under his jaw and urging him upwards. His eyes lock onto yours and the grin that tweaks the corner of his lips gives you an idea. “You said you wanted to touch more of me, right?”

As you wait for your answer, you scoot backwards, making him follow you across the bed, finally luring all of his sprawling form onto the cool sheets. “Mmhm,” he grunts, doing his best to keep close, teasing fingers inches from your skin at all times, always ready to stroke and cup each time you pause. When you hit the headboard you stop, studying his features, admiring the growing hunger that’s screaming its way out of his wide eyes.  

“You ever eaten a girl out?”

The question hangs for half a second and you can see his pupils dilate, the black threatening to swallow up the sky streaked blue of his eyes. Then, right when you’re about to tease him for his gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, he’s bowling past you, splaying out against the mattress and pulling you on top of him. 

“Fuck, that’s by far the best thing I’ve heard all day. Hell, all month. I’ll likely go to my grave thinking about that question. Ouch! Stop squirming, you’re kneeing me in the ribs.” 

“I wouldn’t… Satoru! I can’t breathe if you hold me like that!” His arms are like cables, all tensed muscle and raw strength as he pins you against his heaving chest, lips kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into your arched collarbone. “Hurry up and take your pants off. And don’t say you can’t do it like this, you’re a grade 1 sorcerer, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that going to be part of your teaching regime?” you smart, bucking your hips up so you can unclasp and wiggle your pants down your legs.

“Oooh, you’re right, that sounds good. Damn, I gotta start writing this shit down. That way I can have a whole list of euphemisms. Can you imagine? Molding young minds and helping them to stand up to all the bullshit that those so-called elders make everyone suffer under. All those rules and regulations, the stupid ins and outs they make us all jump through–”

“Hmm,” your voice falls to a gentle hum as you snatch at his chin, stilling his chatter with a single finger against his lips. “That sounds ambitious, but why don’t we take things a little slower, give that mind of yours something else to focus on?”

“Oh?” Satoru smirks, arching an ashen eyebrow at you. “Then you better get up here, before I get distracted again.”

“Don’t you mean down?”

“Huh, down? Ah, I see where the confusion is. Nah, I want you to ride my tongue, baby, so hurry up.” His long arms help him jerk you upward, easily lifting and enticing you forward. That early impatience is peeking out once more, and he pops his head up, nostrils flaring as your uncovered cunt drifts nearer. “Ah, God, I bet you’re so fucking wet. I can smell you from here. Come on, grab onto the headboard and let me get to it.”

Your legs shake as you plant them beside his head and you do your best to steady your pounding heart, pulling a thin stream of air through your parted lips. As soon as you touch the wood of the headboard, he’s gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises behind. The tip of his nose is the first thing you feel, and it’s so close to your pulsing clit that you inadvertently cant your hips forward. “Ooh, sensitive, are we?” he crows, nestling himself under you, his breath hot against your dampened folds and wet curls. 

The following slick slurp of his tongue and the slow pass of his lips make your head tip back. He’s surprisingly gentle, slowly licking his way along your labia, pulling and sucking as he goes, teasing closer to that tight bud that’s waiting, just a little bit higher. 

At first, you worry about crushing him, too caught up in the placement of your weight to fall into the haze his mouth is begging you to slip into. But then his lips latch onto you, careful to mouth in time with the thud of your clit, suckling and squeezing until you can’t help but grind down, earning yourself a sharp groan that reverberates against your trembling skin. Using the weight of the headboard as leverage, you roll your hips over him, shifting in time with his well-placed rhythm. 

He’s good, but even the great Satoru Gojo isn’t perfect, not all the time.

When he nips at you a little too hard you shift back, depriving him of your wet heat, loving the petulant sighs and moans he gives you when you do. “Ah, sorry. Gimme a little more time,” he bargains, fingers sinking into the voluptuous curve of your ass, tying to urge you back over his glistening lips. “I’ll do better, (Y/N). Besides, I want you to cum for me. You taste so fucking good and I want it, I want all of it. Hey! Don’t be like that! I said I’d do better. Come back here.”

God, he’s such a brat. 

Every time you shift away he’s got another string of exasperated pleas ready, twitching his fingers and shaking his pale head at your impudence. “Less talking,” you moan, shivering as he delves his tongue into you, feeling his grin as your cunt squeezes around his intrusion. “Ok, ok,” he growls, using his brute strength to overpower your tensed legs. “Mmm, yes baby, ah–just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck, you think as you sink your fingers into his hair, spurring him on, this feels way too good.

When he captures your clit between his teeth and tweaks the tip of his tongue against you, you can’t help but fall to pieces. Your orgasm hits you like a battering ram, seizing hold of your muscles as it rolls through you and scattering a faint spark of spots across your vision. Satoru’s arms wrap around your blindly pistoning hips, helping you to sink closer, ravenously slurping and swallowing down each wave of arousal that hits his gluttonous lips. 

You’re still shaking when he pulls out from under you, flipping you bonelessly under him as his hands finally rid himself of his clearly tented and damp pants. Your eyes are just clearing when you catch sight of him, studiously following that trail of white curls to his impressive length. His cock is long, curving proudly toward his chiseled stomach and bubbling a clear string of pre-cum from the flushed tip. You do your best to sit up, but as soon as he catches sight of your movement, his broad palm is pressing you back. “Ah-ah,” he taunts, stroking a hand over his swollen cock and wiping the last of your slick from his face against his shoulder. “Keep still for me, ‘kay?’” 

His wide palms spread your legs apart, and he soothes his fingertips along your skin as he tugs a few heady groans from himself. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so goddamn pretty. When you were sitting there at the bar and you looked so fucking happy I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you just looked so nice. Haven’t even known you a week, and I’m already obsessed with hearing that laugh of yours. You put some kinda spell on me, huh? That what this is?”

“Ugh, stop talking, Satoru,” you threaten, watching the steady ebb and flow of his clenched fist. His cock looks so smooth and you’re desperate to reach for it, to take hold of velvety flesh and see how long it would take for the world’s strongest sorcerer to be putty in your hands. 

He arches a pale brow at your blatant stare. “You want it?”

“I want you,” you correct, and the smile that breaks across his handsome face makes your heart squeeze. 

“Awe, how can I possibly say no to that?” he asks, gleefully lining himself up with your slit. Despite his early eagerness, he’s taking his time with this part, running the bulbous head of his cock over you, gathering up some of your gossamer strands, slicking himself with your dripping arousal. “Sorry,” he amends when he makes another pass along your folds. “It’s been awhile and I want to take it all in. I don’t wanna rush this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, lifting your hands to pass them over his stomach, watching as his muscles ripple under your delicate touch. “Just don’t take too long or you’re not going to be on top for much longer.”

“That a threat or a promise, baby?” Satoru leers, finally slipping his tip past that first, tight ring of your entrance. Despite his bravado, his lips curl over his teeth and he lets out a low hiss as he sinks into you, inch by shallow inch. The pressure of his cock makes you arch, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. He bows his head and his ethereal gaze falls behind his shaking eyelids as he thrusts forward, edging himself along until he bottoms out within you. Fuck, you feel so full.

The stretch of him makes you shake and you’re grateful he’s taking his time when he stills, lips smacking distracted kisses over your heated cheeks and parted lips, giving you time to adjust to him, and he to you. After a few steadying breaths, his teeth bite at the hollow of your throat and he pulls his hips back, grinning as your hands grasp into the sheets, a sharp whine escaping you. He echoes your sentiment, letting a gasping string of curses tumble from his shaking lips as he ruts forward again, one hand gripping at your right leg, prying you from his waist and slinging the trembling limb over his shoulder.

This angle has him pressing against something wonderful and sharp, and you can’t help but gasp out his name as he starts to methodically ram into it, over and over. You can feel him swell at the sound of your pleading moans and you savor the feel of his cock throbbing against your tender walls. “More,” you shudder, fingers trying to hurry his steady hips as he diligently cants into you. 

“In a minute,” he grunts, biting at your pliant skin, arms coiling under your back. “This feels too fucking good. Let me just… ah… fuck…” 

He slows, moving at a pace that sets your teeth on edge, and you thrash under him. Although his cock is digging against that aching place that’s sending dots and stars across your eyes, it’s not enough pressure. Licking your lips, you worm one of your hands between the two of you and pinch and roll your fingers over your clit, easing some of the tingling bittersweetness that’s pulsing over you. 

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Satoru chuckles, releasing your leg from his tight grip and re-lacing it around his hips. “How do you want it, baby? You want it fast? Or do you want it hard? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, peeking up at his enthralling cerulean, willingly ensnaring yourself in the intensity of his gaze. “I just want more of you.”

“Tch,” he hums, cupping a hand against your warm cheek. “Don’t say shit like that, I might end up falling for you.”

The laugh that echoes from your lips is swiftly cut off by a gasp as he abruptly ups the pace of his thrusts. He’s quick, but he’s still listening and watching for what you like. When you moan he’s right there with you, steadying his rhythm, and when you call out his name, he digs a little harder. 

It’s too much. It feels raw, like you’re scratching at a cut. Like there’s some itch that you just can’t reach. 

All of it, the feel of his meaty balls slapping against the sticky plushness of your ass, and those breathy moans makes your head spin. The intensity of the moment slips your fingers from your clit, but he makes up for their loss by grinding down each time he sinks into your cunt, scraping the hard edge of his pelvic bone against your throbbing bud. 

He’s good. Fuck.

You can feel the hazy slope of your orgasm approaching and you blindly arch up each time he careens downward, ensuring that he’s hitting right where you need him to. His movements start to hit a lull as he slips into his own fog of lingering pleasure, dipping his head to your neck and sighing contentedly when you kiss at his temple. But the tenderness of your touch must knock him out of his own whirring thoughts and he rewards you with another set of rapid fire thrusts, his lips pulling from your neck to seek out yours, kissing and nipping until you’re gasping for air. 

“Mmmm,” he moans, breath hot against your skin. “You feel so good and you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna’ cum for me? One more time?”

You do your best to gulp out a reply, but the abrupt press of his calloused thumb against your clit makes you shake instead, a tingling rush of heady arousal racing its way up your spine. Smiling down at your awed expression, he lifts his fingers away and uncoils your legs from his waist, flinging them both over his broad shoulders, his knees settling forward as he continues to roughly thrusts his hips forward, driving you quivering body into the soft sheets. 

“You like that? Does it feel good? Does it? Fuck baby, I’m begging you, give it to me one more time. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me? I want you to cum on my dick, ah, come on (Y/N), just once more, that’s all I’m asking. You can do it, can’t you?”

He’s rasping his questions against the shell of your ear, hands cupping at the side of your face, keeping you close as he races toward his own end, voice lifting into a frantic plea as he hurtles closer, desperate to feel your satisfaction rippling around him before he completely looses himself to the aching pleasure of your body. 

“I–” you choke out, arms lacing around his back, nails pressing half moons into his skin. He moans at the bite of your touch and tilts your hips upward, seeking more of you. 

That change is all it takes. 

The tip of his cock presses down, lifts, and then suddenly you’re seeing stars. 

“I’m… yes! Oh, fuck. Satoru, just like that. Don’t… don’t stop!” For once, he doesn’t tease. He just smiles, his face flushed, pale cheeks dusted a pleased pink and repeats the motion, careful to keep everything absolutely steady. The repeated push and pull, the warmth of your cunt, the feel of your skin, it’s making his cock throb and his heart race, but he’s determined to see you break. 

There. There it is. Fuck, you’re so pretty.

On an outward pull of his hips, your back arches and your thighs tense and he lets out a long growl, quickly breaking his fastidious rhythm and sinking back into you, gasping as you flutter around him. A new flush of wetness leaks out of your cunt and squelches between your pinned legs, dripping over the cleft of your ass.

He only lasts a few extra ruts, but the feel of him swelling and pulsing inside your tender pussy almost topples you over the edge again and you cling to him in the aftermath of his release, your heaving breasts catching against his flat pectorals. 

With a quick peck, he slowly lowers your legs and eases himself out of you, blue eyes widening at the sight of his softening hardness leaving your leaking pussy. “I don’t know which I like better,” he contemplates, leaning back on his haunches and slicking his index finger up the pooling dribble you’ve both left behind, spreading the spidery traces across his hand. “You wet and dripping for me or filled to the brim with my cum.” His lewd comment makes you huff out a low groan of exasperation and you roll off of the bed, shaking your head as you steady yourself and walk toward the bathroom. 

After a brisk rinse in the shower, you pad back into the darkened room, fully expecting to see an empty bed. You’re not sure why that’s your first thought, but something about Satoru doesn’t scream: I’m the kind of guy who likes post coitus cuddles. So the sight of him, bundled under your sheets, white hair poking just above the edge of the blankets, is a surprise.

“Oh,” you pause, dropping your towel on the floor as you openly gape at him. “You’re still here… I, well, I figured you’d take off.”

“Huh?” Satoru croaks, popping his head up, his face comically askew. “What kinda guy do you think I am?”

“Apparently the kind that stays over,” you snicker, digging around for your discarded bra and panties. 

He lets out a mock gasp, popping a hand against his cheek. “How could you say that! And after I gallantly brought you back here?”

“And fucked me,” you remind him, slipping your lacy underwear back on and re-adjusting the clasp of your bra.

“That too!” he qualifies, arching a pale eyebrow at your impassive face. “I’d say I was pretty generous. You did cum twice after all.”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest and perching beside the edge of the bed, shaking your head at the sprawling man under your covers.

“Come on, you wouldn’t seriously make me walk all the way back to the school at this hour. What if something happens to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing you kicked me out into the cold?”

“It’s summer,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “And you’re… what six foot three… and you have the legendary six eyes… I mean, I think you’ll be ok.”

“(Y/N),” Satoru begins, narrowing those bright blue eyes at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is it your habit to sleep with helpless guys and then kick them out? You’re so cruel.”

“Stop it,” you warn, snatching at the sheets and yanking them off of his naked form.

“No!” he protests, fingers clutching vainly at the thin cover. “Your bed is so nice! Come on, I’ll be good and I don’t snore. Well, not that I know of anyway…”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t have the energy for this and we have to be up in four hours. Just shush and scoot over.”

“Oh? Do you not have the energy because I fucked it out of you?”

“I’m sorry, were you wanting to stay the night?” 

“Alright, alright,” he splays his hands up in supplication and makes room for you, watching closely as you curl up beside him, a smile playing over his lips. “Hey,” he asks once you’ve closed your eyes, leaning close to your reposed form. 

“What?” you groan, cracking an eye open.

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Satoru…”

“Mmhm?”

“Shut up.”

notes: hehe. i feel like he’d be so freaking chatty in bed. plus, how could i not make him a little touched starved? stop making me like characters that just wanna be held universe, gosh :3c

[thiccchurro]

Kita Shinsuke As Your Boyfriend

♡pairing: Kita s. x gn!reader

♡warnings: none

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

-when he realized he had fallen for you he fell for you again.

-Brought you flowers and some fancy, heart shaped, chocolate filled macaroons (he specifically asked Osamu to make), on a valentines day in a secluded area, He then romantically got on one knee obliviously corny ik and said some cheesy pickup line with the most serious face ever.

-poor baby searched 'how to get your crush to like you on valentine's' and then asked his granny for help. Both sources gave him a list of ridiculous lines to help him grab whatever lady he was after..

"Y/n.. "

"what's up?"

You spun around to see the boy you'd been crushing on for the past year or so, on one knee, bouquet in hand, wearing the most serious face you've ever seen.

"Are you a parking ticket? ‘Cause you’ve got fine written all over you."

The MOST monotone voice ever

"....what?"

don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh.

(Granny knows if you accept his confession you love him for real)

-Alright so maybe pickup lines haven't been his forte so far? But he absolutely loves when you use cheesy puns on him!

-Quietly laughs at how cute you are when your trying to flirt with him or just joke around, AND IS 100% outa his mind in love with that smile you give him when he receives them well.

-Might not seem like it but he's sooooo clingy. LIKE. SO. CLINGY.

-He also values a good work ethic, so how bout you guys finish up allll the work together, (cuz the thought of working together is so romantic to him <3) and then we can slow dance across the room/have a thirty minute (three hour) long cuddle session.

-If you had to pee or got hungry, then no, you didn't.

-Once he finishes all his work, he's gone, and their's nothing you can do to snap him outa his cuddly split personality.

-likes listening to Spotify playlists of your favorite music while working with you, or just chilling.

-believes in taking care of yourself, so you both walk through your nightly routines side by side. (washing faces, brushing teeth, relaxing baths from time to time, etc.)

-Loves when you come to watch his volleyball games, or come to practice. ESPECIALLY loves when you bring snacks and water bottles for everyone cuz he wants the person he loves to care bout the people he cares about just as much as he does.

-trusts you to shut down any flirting that goes on between you and the team. Atsumu

-Life saver for you clumsy kita simps out there. me

"Did you grab the keys?"

"Your blue shirt is underneath the bathroom sink for some reason."

"Go change,it's going to be cold. Closed toed shoes only."

"The milk goes in the fridge hun, not with the dishes."

*proceeds to save the items you drop, and keeps you from tripping?!*

-goes to visit his grandma during the summer, but the moth before he leaves (if he's not bringing you) you guys go on as many dates as possible, sit around making friendship bracelets with face masks on, complete a month long workout challenge, you name it! It's a ritual, just a month of pure bonding and enjoying yourselves before he leaves.

-Neither of you are leaving the house until you both eat a protein rich breakfast, and brush your teeth afterwards. I don't make the rules. Kita does.

-notices when your sad right off the bat and just hugs you or gives you lots of extra attention until your ready to talk. Tries not to prompt/push you unless it seems absolutely necessary.

-You are his human translator. He spits out the blunt advice, and you water it down. He thanks god for the way you can help him get the point across in sensitive situations without making anyone cry.

-A pretty chill guy. Likes dates such as going to the farmers market, craft conventions, fancy dinner date nights, window shopping downtown, and picnics under the stars. He desperately wants to take you some place like Apple hill or a cat cafe just because.

-him and his granny make homemade mochii and Onigiri with cute lil faces out of the rice on their farm and have it specially delivered so it doesn't melt or anything.

-he has a soft, sorta whiny "boyfriend" voice reserved specifically for you.

-it's tradition to greet each other, and say goodbye with a quick peck on the cheek, lips, forehead, chin, and/or nose from one party or both. If you miss it even once he'll be sorta pouty the rest of the day.

-he remembers the things you say that not even you remember and puts sososo much time and effort into gifts it's ridiculous. And kinda intimidating? How are you supposed to compare your mediocre gifts to his insane AND on point masterpieces?!

- Don't worry he'll cherish anything you give him to inhumane extents

- just imagine spending the summer with him!!!!1

It's been a long day, your waiting on the porch for him, and granny's inside watching frozen for the first time (again). Your hair flying in the wind, as you see a tiny, distant, figure, slowly growing until he stand less then twelve feet away. His shirt tied around his waist, hat hanging off his shoulders bye the string that's supposed to keep it on his head.

He runs over to give you a huge hug, spinning you around in his arms a few times before setting you down gently, and giving you a quick peck, then he takes a fast shower.

You guys cuddle, as you comb his damp hair through with your fingers and tell him about your day, with occasional interjections from grandma. Him being the tired and quiet baby boy he is, just nods sleepily, asks a few questions and traces patterns across your skin as you wait for the dinner to get out of the oven.

-What's not to love?!

-I'm turning this into a full blown fluff fic later.

-BASICALLY he loves you to the moon. Please, PLEASE love him back?

[Unedited]

[crown-prince-zuko]

Ty Lee or Sokka headcanons?

Hey! Thanks for the ask! I’ve already done some Ty Lee but I’ll add in some more here, but first!

Sokka:

Since Sokka is a strategist I think he would enjoy strategy based games. I believe he would enjoy playing Pai Sho with Uncle Iroh. He, like Iroh, values every asset he has. Probably one of few who can actually compete with Iroh at a similar level of skill, and he enjoys learning new Pai Sho moves from Iroh.

I honestly believe Sokka would be bilingual. In the series it seems most people seem to speak the same language but I’m sure there are some people who speak different languages in the ATLA universe so I think Sokka would pick up a language in his travels.

Sokka is a wonderful communicator and probably enjoys learning the cultures of others. I can see him studying different people and their festivities and being genuinely intrigued at the information.

Although I would say Sokka is more of a people person than Zuko, he also is not a fan of formal events. He likes more comfortable settings. Don’t get me wrong, he likes parties and festivals, but formal parties make him feel out of place and he doesn’t like the amount of politics that goes on when he thinks a party should be a time to relax.

He may work well with others and do well with communication, but I would say Sokka is an introvert predominantly because Sokka seems to rebuild energy by having alone time. For instance, after Suki had basically beaten him up in the Kyoshi Warriors episode, he took time alone to re-evaluate his actions rather than reaching out to Katara or Aang. Sokka likes to regroup himself and recharge in private and then come back. That’s why I think he is more of an introvert.

Sokka strikes me as more of a coffee drinker than anything else. I mean, he probably hits up the Jasmine Dragon but only really to see Iroh and play Pai Sho. I think he’d be one of those people who are more inclined to simple drinks. Like probably just an iced coffee.

As I said in my Ty Lee headcanon, I think that Ty Lee likes anything self care and def has a skin routine, but I think that her and Sokka both have skincare routines and absolutely share skin tips with one another. If Ty Lee and Sokka were in modern times you just know those two would be going to like Lush or The Body Shop together, probably hit up a Starbucks.

Sokka is bi. Like I know that’s super popular but I’m just-like bro. ALSO??? he seems to have a thing for people who seem sorta like /unattainable/. Like I think he likes partners that he finds challenging. Bc with Suki he likes that she is assertive and sort of buds heads with him, and Yue he seemed to like that she had this whole like “im a princess and you’re a commoner” thing because it made it challenging to be with her, so I’m just saying it kinda fits Sokka’s type if he liked a firelord who was also very stubborn. *coughs* Zuko *coughs*

Sokka is supppper protective of his loved ones. Like you can mess with him, but fuck with Katara? Aang? Suki? Zuko? Absolutely not. Like I can see Sokka straight decking someone for hurting one of his loved one’s feelings. Ya know like the brother that goes “if you break her heart I will kick your ass.” But absolutely serious.

Ty Lee Extras:

I kind of think that Ty Lee would be a vegetarian or at least a pescatarian just because I believe she has a really high amount of empathy and has probably cried over Mai squishing a ladybug. She just seems to really value life, especially because she went out of her way to only learn moves that would incapacitate others and never truly hurt them.

She probably likes to help Zuko garden and I can picture her having her own fruit and veggie garden if I’m being honest. She probably goes to farmers markets and shops from locally owned farms.

I know everyone knows that Azula is good at getting what she wants through manipulation, but Ty Lee is reallllyyy good with charm. One thing that Azula really lacks. So I know that Ty Lee would probably be good at getting bargains and things like that because she just knows how to charm people.

[sparkles-and-trash]

Craig and Those Guys, Headcanons Masterpost  ~

Craig Tucker 

Looks:

tall and gangly 

has really pretty, thick black hair, but is always wearing his chullo so he always has hat hair lol 

light blue/grey-ish eyes 

long face, defined jaw 

really smooth skin, which is odd since he has no routine what so ever 

casual style, lot’s of hoodies and those Adidas pants with the white stripe at the side? 

Personality:

he has a resting bitch face, but like, as a personality? 

like, when he’s not thinking about anything special or talking about something he cares about, he’ll just sorta tune out and look pissed and/or bored 

but he isn’t grumpy or careless 

just a little aloof lol 

cares a lot about his boyfriend, friends, family and pet(s) 

doesn’t always feel confident when showing it tho 

dorky, he loves space and his niche shows and likes tidying haha 

has the dorkiest laugh and is super embarrassed about it hehe 

Friendships:

isn’t that good with people tbh 

but he really values his friends, and enjoys spending time with them

will fight for his friends, hands down 

is weary around new people, like the the two boy gangs started to hang out a little more, he was the one who took the longest to open up and be chill with it 

likes seeing his friends having fun and being passionate, so he always tries to keep up with their interests etc

which sometimes surprises people 

but like I said, he is really a nice guy, he just has a rising bitch personality 

Family:

has a healthy and good family dynamic 

is kinda awkward with showing them affection tho 

his dad and him have a “slap each other on the back and huff” type of relationship 

but deep down they both know there’s a lot of love and acceptance there<3 

Laura is a cool mom, fight me 

not like, too cool, she has rules and is an authoritarian person 

but she is also funny and sees through her kids’ bullshit 

Tricia is really similar to Craig in a lot of ways

they stay out of each other’s way mostly, but sometimes hang out casually 

doesn’t really fight that much? 

Ships and relationships:

y’all know it, it’s always creek time around here

I usually see Craig as demiromatic gay 

he and Tweek totally have that best friends and lovers type of relationship 

like, not too lovey dovey, but sure as hell passionate at times 

Craig genuinely have so much fun with his bf man, he just wants to hang out with him all the time 

isn’t too creative when it comes to dates and stuff, but he really tries 

often gets help from Token and the others when it comes to it 

actually doesn’t mind PDA, at least chill PDA like handholding and kisses etc 

Token Black 

Looks:

pretty tall and broad, but not like, super fit, he’s just naturally like that 

around the start of high school he started growing his hair out a little, he keeps it in a short and manageable length 

he has very remarkable eyes, dark brown at the edges and they get almost golden by his pupils 

handsome, simply put haha

I would describe his style as preppy/casual? 

like, he dresses nicely, and likes looking sharp, but he isn’t a snob about it! 

I feel like he would look amazing in purple and wear it often! 

Personality:

always writing in a little notebook

loud, contagious laughter

big conscience, always tries to do the right thing

while his friends and classmates loves the perks of his wealth, Token himself feels bad about it a lot

he has a tendency to get a little down about the state of world and it’s unfairness 

he works with a lot of charities and is a volunteer and both the pet shelter, the homeless shelter and the children ward of the hospital, and he really, genuinely loves doing it 

Friendships:

very protective of his friends

because he volunteers a lot, he started running into Stan and Kenny at both the pet shelter and homeless shelter a lot, as Stan is a huge animal rights lover and Kenny genuinely likes helping both people and animals 

the three of them start becoming better friends because of this, eventually brining the two groups closer together 

he is one of the few people Craig will actually go to for relationship advice etc

which is kinda funny because Token is a casual dater all through High School

nothing wrong with that! and like, he still has great advice and is very good with people in general 

very good at making people feel included 

the mom friend 100%

comforts Clyde, keeps Jimmy’s antics under control, keeps Tweek from killing Cartman and helps Craig actually communicate dhslkfhb

Family:

has a good relationships with his parents! 

but feels like he has to live up to a certain level of expectations at times 

his dad is a bit old-fashioned in some senses, but he means well

and both his mom and dad loves him a lot and is super proud of what a wonderful person he is (so am I ilu Token you’re doing amazing sweetie)

Ships and relationships:

first of all, I think Token is bi! 

I like Tyde, but my OTP for him is Tokenny! 

I just really like the dynamic potential and think they would make each other the best versions of themselves? 

Token is great at being suave and charming in general and on first dates that’s casual, but if he already has a crush and/or feelings he is a mess

but like, a cute mess 

anyways, here’s a tiny Tokenny fluff one-shot I wrote a while back lol 

Tweek Tweak

Looks:

big, soft & fluffy hair

big, nervous looking eyes

either electric green or lively brown 

soft sweaters and big flannels 

sweater sleeves always covering his hands

pale, perfect skin 

soft freckles on his nose, shoulders and hands

crooked smile 

slight gap between his front teeth 

a little shorter Craig, slightly more defined much wise naturally 

Personality:

very confused

doesn’t know what day is it

has gotten a lot better at dealing with his anxiety, but still twitches a bit because of the meth coffee his parents had him drink as a kid

juMpY

very funny when he chills enough to be funny haha

has a kind heart, esp when it comes to people and animals in difficult situations 

he has so much compassion in his heart, man 

but also has a short fuse 

is pretty scary when he gets pissed 

will get into a physical fight

esp if anyone insults his friends 

which is why Cartman is terrified of him 

Friendships:

his friends makes him feel very lucky and grateful and he tries to make up for it a lot 

often bakes as a stress relief, which makes Clyde love him even more lol

is pretty good friends with Kenny 

he likes to just hang around people sometimes, doing nothing together, and Kenny enjoys that too, so they often do that 

Tweek loves these dudes a lot, but there’s always so much going on yanno 

good friends with Wendy! 

they share a lot of the same values 

he has a secret talent when it coms to drawing, only Clyde knows (by accident) 

always tries to include those who is a bit on the outside

Family:

complicated 

his parents have always taken a lot of advantage of him, let’s be real 

I often headcanon them selling out to Harbucks at some point, but they keep running the store 

but they have to hire more people and is under more surveillance now, so that saves Tweek a little

he still works there tho

so does Kenny 

honestly, Tweek avoids his parents as much as he can, there is a lot of resentment there 

he loves Craig’s family tho, and they love him back <3 

Ships and relationships:

yeah, Creek it is 

I also like Twenny tho, but creek is my OTP! 

I usually write Tweek as gay, but I’m open to other interpretations 

but he likes boys in any scenario to me 

often has his hands in Craig’s jacket pockets, or hands onto his arm, just likes being physically near him

Craig likes it too, so 

Tweek still struggles with sleeping, but always sleeps amazingly with Craig around :softeyes: 

blushes so hard when Craig manages to catch him off guard with compliments and soft stuff 

is pretty good at being romantic, and does really sweet stuff for birthdays and anniversaries and stuff! 

Jimmy Valmer

Looks:

thick mop of brown hair that’s purposely messy 

would never admit it but he spends time every morning making it that way 

light brown eyes that turns golden in the sun 

had braces for years, so now his teeth are very straight and white and perfect 

a few cute freckles on his face

actually pretty tall, but because of his crutches he slouches a bit so it doesn’t always show 

Personality:

has the best one-liners

living legend for having the record for both the best grades and highest number of detentions at once

can’t shut up in class

sarcastic lil’ shit

sometimes speaks before he thinks but never means harm 

good at seeing when he’s out of line and has no problem apologizing! 

on the fist day on freshman year the current quarterback (a huge senior) was being horrible to Butters so Jimmy simply smashed the guys toes with his crutch 

Friendships:

often takes on a comic relief role in groups 

him and Clyde have big “brooo” energy 

he is the best wingman 

very supportive of his friends, no matter their interest, he always tries to lear about it so he can be there for them and cheer them on! 

Jimmy and Stan bond over their interest in writing in an English class Freshman year 

whenever Stan has a bad day or week, Jimmy or Kyle is always the first two people to notice and do something because of that 

Family:

has a pretty superficial relationship with his parents 

nothing really bad in that sense, but it ain’t that deep 

doesn’t share too much of his private life with them, but if they ask he won’t lie either

because of his good grades and general intelligence they tend to be gullible with him, so he gets away with a lot  of shit 

Ships and relationships:

I usually think of him as pan! 

I see him dating around quite a bit in high school and college! 

hooks up quite a bit, but isn’t a fuckboy, he’s very upfront about what he wants and what he doesn’t

never wants anyone to get hurt

but doesn’t have the best attention span when it comes to dating lol 

falls hard when he does tho!! 

Clyde Donovan 

Looks:

looks like a chocolate Labrador that got turned into a human shdghsdg

soft, dark brown hair 

big, puppy like brown eyes 

medium tall? 

kinda soft, like, has soft features, chubby cheeks etc but isn’t fat 

isn’t ripped either, normal to slightly pudgy I would say! 

wears a lot of old, comfy jeans and hoodies, often red ones 

likes silly graphic t-shirts! 

Personality:

the guys who cries at parties

a real good guy, there’s no denying that

he and Token both cried while watching The Kissing Booth on Netflix, promising each other to always support who the other dates. They swore to never talk about it again

loves his friends SO MUCH

generally loves being around people, he is very extroverted! 

notices stuff others may overlook

both with people and scenery and stuff idk 

compassionate to a fault 

Friendships:

when Tweek and Craig started dating, Tweek was a bit nervous about being with the group and feeling like he took up too much space?

and Clyde noticed right away and made sure to really get to know him well and they became great friends, to Craig’s somewhat surprise

Clyde can be a little intense and Craig figured Tweek might find him too much, but it ended up being the opposite, they really enjoy each other’s friendship and their differences works well together

thinks of all of these dudes as his best friends! 

his first real crush was Bebe who turned out to be gay

they’re real good friends now but deep down he’s still a little heartbroken

but he values their friendship so much so he’s working through it!  

Family:

ohhh :((( 

sad hours offh 

is still very emotionally raw from his mothers’ death

blames himself very much 

his dad is really trying to bond with him tho 

and be a good dad

like I said on the main 5 post I like the AU/headcanon that Clyde’s dad and Cartman’s mom gets married 

in that scenario I think Clyde would be very resentful at first, feeling like his mom got replaced 

but Liane is kind and warm to him and he warms up to her eventually 

calls Cartman his brother 

actually really comes to care for him tho (it’s mutual but Cartman will never admit it) 

Ships and relationships:

bi disaster 

bad luck with love 

he falls fast and hard 

gets sooo happy when things work out! 

but sooo heartbroken when they end 

he has no problem getting the dates! 

but he gets nervous and a little too intense too fast 

loses his confidence fast, but his friends are always there to pick him up <3 

[cassiopeiassky]

When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 54

Hey look at me go, it hasn’t even been a month since my last update (yes, my bar is that low)! Hey I hope you are all doing alright.  These are scary times, remember to do your best to take care of you, I know it isn’t easy.  Be as kind as you can to yourself - you deserve it.

So this part is dedicated to @iwillbeinmynest - happy late birthday, my darling Kate!  I hope it’s worth the wait <3

This part is also dedicated to the great Stan Lee.  The world he created gave me a safe place to escape to when my own world was too dark to survive.  I owe him so much, and this chapter is so unworthy but it’s all I’ve got.  I can only hope that he’d get a kick out of his cameo. 

Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  

Word count: 4891 

Warnings:

For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Feels and emotions. Therapy, mentions of trauma.  They’re dealing with the aftermath now, so there are parts that are kinda heavy.  

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

“Look, I think it’s safe to say that we all know you can take care of yourself.  You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”  The covers slide down, showing his torso as he sits up to face you.  “That said, I’d like to remind you about a certain conversation we had at home about us taking care of each other.  I know I didn’t specifically include my team at the time, but they’re your team now, too. They’re your family.  You know this.  It’s okay to let us take care of you – shit, Sweetheart, you take care of us all the time.”

“Okay, but cooking dinner for everyone isn’t the same thing as a credit card.”

“Doll, you don’t want to eat Stark’s cooking.  Please, I beg you, let him reciprocate with American Express.  You can’t get food poisoning that way.”  The look in his blue eyes would be comical if he didn’t seem quite so serious.

You’re still uneasy about having access to someone else’s money, but you reluctantly concede.  They are family – Thanksgiving and Christmas should have already proven that to you, even before they did what they did to save you. Still…pride, independence, and your improved but still deeply embedded insecurities are trying to make their insidious whispers into roars.  “It’s weird,” you finally mutter as you fiddle with one of your stuffie’s satin lined ears.

He snorts and nods.  “I got a metal arm and Stevie and I both have three digits to our age, Banner goes from mild mannered doctor to a big green rage monster when necessary, Stark flies around the world in glorified soda can, and I haven’t even introduced you to the witch, the god, the floating red guy, and the…I don’t know, whatever the hell Loki is.  Trust me, Stark giving you a credit card so you have a little bit of freedom while you’re here is the least weird thing about this situation.”

Well, when he puts it that way…

“Why is it so loud?” Bucky watches as you pace in front of the expansive bedroom window, phone at your ear.  The ringing is practically echoing, it’s distracting and –

“Breathe for me, Sweetheart.”  Steady hands grip your shoulders, interrupt your restless movement, and kinda sorta help to ground you.

Shit.  Your heart is hammering almost as loud as –

“Hello?” Familiar.  Hopeful.  Safe. You should reply, tell her that it’s you, but you’re too busy hanging on to the sound of her voice.  “Hello?  Hello?!” Annoyed.  Indignant.  Already ready to hang up.

Your lips finally allow a smile at the sound.  Seriously, your mom has the patience of a 2-year-old on a sugar high.  It’s good to know at least this hasn’t changed.  

Right then and there, you promise yourself to never again take her phone calls for granted.  “Hi, Mom.”

Silence.  Then tears, followed by questions, answers, questions, answers. You weren’t sure you’d ever hear her voice again, so she has to occasionally repeat things because you were so focused on the sound of her talking – you had to repeat several times too, and you’re sure for the same reason.  Yes, you’re safe.  Yes, you’re sure.  Yes, the boys are doing well, and they miss you like crazy.  Yes, your mom followed the instructions of the team and kept things quiet.  No, she wasn’t happy about it.  Yes, Wanda and Vision are still there – they are going to help your mom with the transition of your return and letting the rest of the family know what happened.  Yes, the boys finally settled into a routine and their sleep schedule is back to somewhat normal.  Yes, you were shot in the leg but you’re healing well.  Yes, you should be home soon.  Yes, you’ll give her the details later.  Yes, you really are safe.  Really.

Loud giggles and doors slamming break through the stream of conversation and your heart moves back up to your throat.  It feels life forever since their voices graced your ears and you can’t wait to see what they have to say.  But you’re not ready.  What if -

Tears and a smile are in your mom’s voice.  “Grandpa and the boys just got back from the coffee shop – he was showing them off to the other old hens again.  Do you want to talk to them?”

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod, but that doesn’t do any good.  She can’t see you because you’d decided to call rather than use video chat; although much better than it was, your skin is still healing and you don’t have any make up yet to hide the fading bruises.

“Honey?”

“Yeah, Mom.  Put them on, please.”  Bucky leads you to sit at the edge of the bed before climbing up behind you to rub your shoulders.

“Breathe, Sweetheart.” Bucky’s steady presence is a lifeline. The gentle admonition brings you back – breathe in, breathe out.  Almost giggle when you hear your mom swear and fumble with putting the phone on speakerphone; there’s a good possibility the boys have learned some new language.

“MommaMommaMomma!!”

As quietly as you can, you choke down the sob that is steadily working its way out.  God you’d missed Jimmy’s voice.

“Hi, baby.  I love you so much.”  It’s all you can manage just now.

“I love you, Momma!  I miss you.  Come home now!”  in your mind’s eye you can see his dimples, how he’s trying to cradle the phone to his ear because he doesn’t quite get the idea of speakerphone, how he’s probably jumping up and down.  His words are clearer than they were when you left…how much has he grown?  How much did you miss?

“Have you been having fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Yep!  We went with Grandpa.  We got donuts!  And uncle Jerry was there!  He gave us a toy.  Come home now, Momma.  I want to show you something!”

Every bit of your focus goes to listening to your son, to his words and trying to decipher just how much he’s changed in the weeks you’ve been apart.  He clearly had an explosion in his language development and it kills you that you missed it.  “I’m working on it, baby.  I’ll be home soon.”

“Bucky?  Bucky, too?”

That brings a smile to your face – you should have known.  “Yes, Bucky, too.”

Your mom breaks in, sounding more than a little concerned.  “Are you sure you’re really safe?”

“Yeah, I am.  I promise.”  You’ll tell her a million times if you need to.  

“So then why is he coming home with you?  Why do you still need the protection?”

Oh, shit.  Right.  She doesn’t know.  This conversation should probably happen in person.  “Um…I’ll explain later.  But I promise, everything is fine.  Hey, can you put Artie on the phone?”

“Honey, he, um,” in the background you can just barely make out the sound of your dad trying to convince Artie to come out of the bathroom, “he’s –“ an ungodly screech pierces the air, “he’s just –“

“He’s mad.  He doesn’t want to talk to me.”  Damn.  It hurts just as much as you thought it would.  “It’s okay, Mom.”  It’s not. Not at all.  “I’ll try again later.”  That’s the truth, at least.

“He just needs a little time.  He took it really hard when you had to go.  Well, they both did, but Artie especially.  I couldn’t convince him that you were trying to come back.”  She knows what happened, at least the broad outline of it; there’s no judgement in her voice.  “He, uh, he thought –“

Might as well just say it and spare your mom the discomfort.  “That I left just like his daddy.”

There’s a long pause before she finally answers.  “Yeah.”

What can you even say to that?  You certainly don’t blame him – you’d had that very thought yourself.

Jimmy’s earnest little voice breaks in, “Momma, Artie loves you.  He’s bein’ a butt right now.  But he loves you.”  He’s a perceptive little man; it’s good to know that’s still the same.  A sob and a chuckle mix ungracefully, but that’s okay. And since when did Jimmy start calling people ‘butts?’

“Thank you, baby.  Um, Mom?”

Her sheepish voice comes across just a second later.  “Sorry, honey.  He probably got that from me.”

A laugh, small but genuine, comes out.  “That’s okay. I learned all my best phrases from you, so I guess we’ll just call it the family legacy.”  Deep breath in.  Out.  “Hey, I should get going.  I need to get my leg checked out before I meet with the person coordinating my mental health recovery care.”

“I – okay, honey.  I love you so much, and I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“I love you, too, Mom. Jimmy?”

“I love you, Momma!  I don’t want you to go.  Come back.  Please?” His cheerful excitement is replaced with an almost palpable desperation, and just like that, your heart breaks all over again.  

“Yes, baby, I’m coming home soon.  I’ll call you later today, okay?”

“Promise?”  He sounds suspicious but hopeful.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Okay.”  Jimmy sounds resigned, and you can hear your mom prompting him in the background.  “Love you, Momma.”

“I love you, too, Jimmy. So much.”

“Later today?  Before bed?  You will call?”

“Yes, Jimmy.  I promise.”

“Okay bye!”

There’s just a bit of silence before your mom’s voice comes back.  “He’s going to be okay, honey.  They both will.”

You can only hope.  Swallowing hard, you continue, “Hey, can you please put the phone by wherever Artie can hear me?”

“Yes…here you go.”

“Artie?  Baby?”  There’s no response, but you knew there wouldn’t be.  “Artie, I love you so much.  I’m so sorry that I had to leave, but I promise I’m coming back.  Okay?  I love you so, so much.  It’s okay that you’re mad.  I understand. I will call later today, and if you feel like talking, I’ll be here to listen, okay?”  Still no answer.  You will never know how you managed to keep the devastation out of your voice.  “Okay.  It’s okay. I love you, baby.”

Footsteps, and then, “He loves you, too.  He does.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you.  “I know, Mom.”

“It’s just going to take some time.”

“I know.”  You hope, anyway.

“You’ll call later?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Alright honey, you take care of yourself and get better, okay?  We all miss you.”

“I know.  I miss you, too.  I miss you so much.”  You stop to clear the thickness out of your throat, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It’s too hard to say goodbye, so instead you just end the call and put the phone down.  Time to get ready for the rest of the day.

* * *

“Do not hold your breath, dear one.  Breathe through the movement,” Galina coaches gently as she guides you through some strength exercises.  

You’ve already been at this for 45 minutes, and you still can’t get over the fact that your leg doesn’t hurt like you think it should.  There’s a deep, almost bone shaking ache to it now that you’ve been pushing yourself a bit, but it certainly isn’t what you would have expected from a recovering bullet wound.

“Good,” she watches with an eagle eye as you correct your breathing, “very good.”

“This is weird.  I’m not complaining, but my brain just seems to not want to accept that my leg is better than it thinks it should be.”

She laughs a little as she taps some notes into her tablet.  “I suppose it makes sense that there is a bit of dissonance between your brain and body; most patients with this type of injury would still be recovering in the surgical ward. You are very lucky to have received Dr. Cho’s patch.  I have seen injuries like yours that have resulted in a lifelong limp, and that was with good care and a qualified physical therapist.”

It hurts your heart to think of the things she’s seen – legs with a permanent limp seem like the least of the potential horrors.  You finish your reps, then rise to stand next to her.  “Thank you for taking care of me, Galina.  I really do appreciate it.”

Her hand reaches to cup your cheek, “Dear one, it is my pleasure.  Thank you for allowing me.  It cannot be easy given everything you have been through.”

It baffles you how she can be so concerned about you – she’s lost everyone she loved most, and it makes you wonder how she can keep going, how she can even smile.  Throwing any sense of formality to the wayside, you pull Galina into an impromptu hug.  It’s easy to see she doesn’t mind.  You’re far from the only person in this building that is in the process of healing.

When she pulls away, you’d swear there are tears in her eyes but you don’t get the opportunity to ask before she starts speaking.  “Would you like to join me for some coffee?  Or do you need some rest before you meet with Dr. Lee?”

“I’d actually love some company – and the caffeine is a bonus.  Bucky said he’d probably be at least 2 hours with his therapist, and I’m trying not to sleep during the day so I can get back to a normal sleep schedule.”

“Mmm,” Galina nods drily, “Jetlag is a heartless bitch, yes?”

You burst out laughing at her comment.  It feels good.  “It is. It really is.”

* * *

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous, Buck.  It isn’t like I’ve never seen a therapist before.”  The two of you are standing outside the room serving as an office for Dr. Lee, and there’s a heavy dread hanging over you at the prospect of walking through that door.  “I mean, for fuck’s sake, I want to be one.  What is my problem?”

Bucky rubs your back as he holds you close.  “Do you want me to stay with you?”

The deep breath you take fills your lungs with his comforting smell, grounding you.  “Mmm,” your voice is muffled from having your face smushed into his shirt, “that’s actually really tempting.”  The breath is released in a somewhat defeated sigh, “But I need to do this on my own.  I, um, I also don’t want you to have to relive my experience.”  You can feel that he’s about to protest, so you quickly continue, “I know you’d go – and I thank you for it – but I don’t know that I can be completely open and honest with my therapist if you were there because I’d want to protect you from hearing it.”  Shrugging as you take a step back, you meet his troubled eyes, “I know you know what happened.  But that doesn’t mean I want you to hear me say it.  And yes,” you cut him off before he can interrupt, “we will talk about it. In time.  It’s not that I’m trying to keep anything from you because I’m not. I just –“

“It’s different when you’re talking to a therapist.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, relieved that he understands.  “It’s different.”

A hug and a kiss and five minutes later find you sitting across from an older gentleman with thick 70s style glasses.  His kindly smile flashes beneath a thick, grey mustache as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater.

You feel like you need to say something to fill the silence.  “Um, thank you for meeting with me, Dr. Lee.”

“Oh,” his smile is meant to put you at ease, and it does, somewhat.  “No need to be formal.  Please, call me Stan.”

Nodding, you swallow hard.

He begins with explaining how this will work – he’s having this meeting with you in order to pair you with a suitable therapist from his team, who then will fly in later today to begin working with you tomorrow.  Stan and his partner will remain onsite with you and Bucky as long as you are in New York, and will then do remote sessions for as long as needed.  He’s happy to work with you if for whatever reason your therapist doesn’t work out, although he prefers under normal circumstances not to work with both halves of a couple.  This doesn’t faze you – it’s pretty standard practice.  

Next are the inventories – of course you score astronomically high on the anxiety inventory and moderately high on the PTSD inventory, but surprisingly low on the depression inventory.  By the time you’re finished discussing them and your one month, three month, and six month goals, you’re fairly comfortable with Stan.  He’s nice and gives off a sort of wise, grandfatherly type vibe.  You can see why Bucky thinks so highly of him.

Then it gets ugly, but you knew it would.  In broad strokes you begin telling him of your experience.  Every now and then he asks for more details or clarification, but for the most part he just listens and makes occasional notes.  

Starting at the beginning brings some happy memories, once you get past the whole watching someone die and then having someone shoot at you part.  Yeah, saying goodbye to your mom was hard, but you still had hope that you’d see her again someday.  Then there was getting to know Bucky and the team.  Did you expect to find a best friend and fall in love with him?  Did you expect that this group of extraordinary individuals – people that you found intimidating and at first wrongly assumed you’d have absolutely nothing in common with – would become family?  God, no.  But you did, and they did.  There was fear and uncertainty, but there was also joy, acceptance, and love.  At the safehouse, in the most unexpected way, you found healing and a deep peace you’d never known before.

But then you recount falling sick from Metzger’s poison and the indescribable pain of leaving your kids…and Bucky.  As you describe Anatoliy and Nikolai Krakken – their threats, their causal cruelty, their laughter – you break into a cold sweat.  Nausea comes in waves with mentioning Grigory and Alric Metzger, and you’re almost drowning again in helpless desperation when you remember how they read Bucky’s second set of trigger words and the things they made him do.  You mostly stay away from the complicated confusion regarding Bucky’s part in your rescue; at this point you know you love him and that you harbor no resentment – you meant it when you said there was nothing to forgive – so the rest of the feelings that you can’t quite figure out can wait.  

You tell Stan of being locked in that godawful room for days on end under endless threats of harm, and the waiting.  God, the waiting – waiting to see what they would make Bucky do next, waiting to see if he did it, waiting to see when they would finally follow through with their terrible implications.  Then of course there were the little ways they would humiliate you, the dehumanizing way they refused to let anyone use your name, the misery of the formal dinners they forced you to attend…and…and the…the uh…    

Mikhail.

Stan keeps telling you that you’re okay, that you’re safe.  You know this is true on some level, but you sure as hell can’t feel it without –

“Bucky,” you finally gasp, and Stan acquiesces immediately.

Bucky must have been just down the hall, because his arms are around you within a minute of Stan’s call. It’s strange, you think, that the tighter he squeezes the easier it is for you to breathe.

When the room finally feels like it has enough air for the three of you, you continue, “I’m sorry, Stan. I didn’t expect to be quite this fragile.”

Even though you’re looking down into your lap, you can feel two sets of eyes boring into your skull.

Stan clears his throat. “You said you were going to school? You want to be a therapist?”

You nod first, then answer almost absentmindedly, “Uh huh.”

“Mmm.  Would you expect one of your clients to apologize for their emotional reaction while describing their trauma?”  As pointed as his question is, Stan’s voice is gentle.

He’s not going to let you not reply, so you give him the obvious answer.  “No.  Of course not.”

“So do you think it’s reasonable for you to expect yourself to not be, as you put it, fragile?”

“Um…”  You can practically feel Bucky daring you to deflect. “No.”

When you finally look up, Stan is nodding.  “Right. Cut yourself some slack.  Don’t hold yourself to expectations that you wouldn’t expect others to meet.”

He’s right.  You know he’s right.  “Easier said than done.”

“But not impossible,” he winks.  “You and Bucky are remarkably similar in this aspect.  With you, you’ve got extremely high expectations for yourself.  With him, it’s –“ Stan looks to Bucky, “May I discuss your progress a bit?”

“I already said you could,” Bucky smiles, then takes out his phone when it buzzes.  His features twist into something unfamiliar, but only for a second.  Turning to you, he apologetically shows you the screen.  “Nat’s here.”  His voice is tight; he tries to hide it but you know him too well.  “She got impatient and wants to take you shopping this afternoon.  What would you like me to tell her?”

“If I may,” Stan looks to you both, “I would recommend that you go shopping.  Today.”  His face is stern as he looks to Bucky.  “With Nat. And only Nat.”

Bucky manages to look both nauseous and sheepish as you glance between the two.

His phone buzzes again as you bite your lip.  “Um, I’ll go.”  You can’t say that you feel great about it; in fact, the idea of being separated from Bucky is mildly terrifying, but that’s kind of Stan’s point.  

“Good.  Bucky, go ahead and meet Nat while I finish up here. Have lunch together, and when they go shopping, you come here for your next session.”

Bucky nods but looks to you before moving.

“I’ll be okay, Buck.” Surprisingly, this feels like the truth. “Go ahead, I’ll join you when I’m done.”

“Alright.”  Bucky hesitantly gets up, but stoops to press a kiss against your forehead.  “I’ll see you soon.”  He clearly doesn’t want to go, but his respect for you eventually wins.

It’s quiet while he exits, but then Stan allows himself an almost satisfied smile.  “You know, Bucky doesn’t give himself enough credit.  I’m not sure if it’s the serum – if it also helps strengthen the mind as well as the body – but when he allows himself to be, he’s one of the most mentally and emotionally healthy people I’ve ever met, and I don’t just mean in spite of his trauma.  He knows what to do, he knows how to communicate, which is especially important.  The problem is, he sometimes gets in his own way.  Kind of like you and your unrealistically high expectations for yourself. I think for a long time it was a way to punish himself, almost a self-sabotage.  He’d learned to deal with the trauma but not so much the guilt.  He felt guilty not only about what he’d done while under HYDRA control, but also for falling victim to the torture in the first place – something he recognized no one else could have survived much less ignored, but he still wouldn’t even consider forgiveness for himself.  He felt guilty because he thought he should have been strong enough to withstand it.  Normally the guilt and trauma would go hand in hand, and dealing with one would deal with the other, but not in Bucky’s case.  He’d managed to separate them and not allowing himself to deal with the guilt was holding him back.”  Stan picks up a pen and starts tapping it against his chin, “He always wanted to get better, to be better.  He just couldn’t always convince himself that he deserved it.  You, though, you were – and are – his motivation to stop punishing himself and let go of the guilt.  Seeing and working with him today,” Stan shakes his head, “in spite of his new trauma, the improvement I see in him is incredible.  He wants to get better, but more importantly, he’s allowing himself to get better.  He’s stepping out of his way.”  Stan narrows his eyes at you, “Just like you need to do.  And that’s only going to happen if you cut yourself some slack. Perfection is an illusion and it has no place in healing.”

“I know,” you exhale heavily.

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “I do.” Your being hard on yourself isn’t exactly a secret, even to you.

“So what would you tell me if our positions were switched?”

You sort of hate the way he’s going about this, but at the same time you have to admit it’s effective. “I’d tell you that all of your reactions are perfectly normal and that your emotions are valid.  I’d tell you to remember that progress isn’t linear, and that having a bad day, week, or even month doesn’t mean progress isn’t being made. I’d let you know that being with a therapist is a very specific type of vulnerability, and that it’s okay to feel and express those emotions.”

“And?”

“It’s okay to need help. And other people.”

Stan leans back in his chair, seemingly satisfied.  Smug bastard. “Good.  Well, I think I’ve got a good grasp on your particular needs, so I’ll have one of my colleagues, Dr. Patrice Cortez, fly in tonight.  I think she’ll be a great match for you – we graduated in the same class and have been working together ever since, but she specializes in women’s trauma.  I will still be available to you, of course, but as long as you are comfortable with her when you meet her tomorrow, she’ll be your primary therapist.”

“Okay.”  Genuinely grateful, you smile.  “Thank you very much.”  Suddenly exhausted, it takes a monumental effort to begin to rise.

“One more thing.”  He waits until you sit back into the couch. “And this is something I’ve addressed with Bucky, but since you’re here I’d like to mention it to you, too.”

“Okay.”

Stan looks up at the ceiling like he’s physically searching for the right words, “Your relationship is nothing short of extraordinary.”

Oh boy, here it comes. You know it’s coming from your mom, but you didn’t quite expect it here.  Well, maybe you did.  A little. “Are you going to tell me that it’s superficial and based on stressful circumstances, and that it won’t last in the real world?” You’d bristle if you had the energy, but as it is it just comes out flat.  

“What?  No, God no,” he speaks quickly, “Although that does happen. And I’d say that a majority of bonds that are formed under such stress don’t survive because they’re based on necessity, and once the necessity is gone, so is the bond.  I don’t think that’s the case with you and Bucky, though. It’s fairly obvious that you were friends first, and that your relationship is built on that.  Unusual circumstances threw you together, but the friendship grew organically, if quickly.”

You relax, just a bit. It’s been on your mind; not that you doubt your feelings – or Bucky’s – but you do know how it looks.  And just like the first night the team found out, your relationship with Bucky is something you’re prepared to defend.

“The thing I wanted to mention is the danger of co-dependency.”

Ah.  That makes sense.

“You two have been through a lot.  A lot. And it’s good and important that you can lean on one another, inspire and encourage each other, and grow together. But it’s also important that you grow on your own.  You are two individuals sharing a life.  If you can’t thrive separately, then in trying to thrive together you will choke each other out.”

You nod – he’s not wrong.

“Did Bucky mention that he is having a difficult time with the idea of you going shopping with Nat?”

You think for a moment. “No, but I guess I assumed it wouldn’t even happen until tomorrow, so we really haven’t talked about it at all.”

“He is.  He’s struggling with the idea of you being without his protection, even though you are certainly more than safe with Nat. Bucky is almost paralyzed with fear that he will lose you.  And I can see that the idea bothers you as well.”

“Yeah,” you admit.  “Even though everyone seems to agree that the threat is over, it’s still scary.”

“It is.  It absolutely is.  But is it healthy for either of you to live in that fear?”

Exhaling deeply, you answer honestly.  “No.  It isn’t.”

“Right.  Although it is certainly understandable, it isn’t healthy. Now, I’m not suggesting that you two separate.  Quite the contrary, actually.  It’s just something to be cognizant of, something to keep in mind as you start the healing process.  Push your boundaries early and often, and I think you’ll surprise yourself.  You are both incredibly resilient people.”

“I, um, I do worry that I’ll get too needy, if I’m not already.  And then sometimes I worry that I’ll push him away.”

“And he worries that he’ll suffocate you with his desire to see you safe.  It’s why he asked me today to make sure I have a session planned with him when you go out, although I think he also expected it would be tomorrow.”

Another deep exhale.  

“The therapy program we’re putting together for you two is pretty intense.  But for what it’s worth, I think you’re both on the right track. Just make sure you allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling – but be careful of focusing too much on the bad because your anxiety can and will manipulate your perceptions.  Remember that it’s okay to feel contradicting emotions, and trust yourself.  Rest in each other and support each other, but don’t depend on each other for healing. That’s something you need to do on your own.  Perhaps together in parallel fashion, but still individually.”

“Hearing this is oddly comforting,” you admit.

“Based on what I’ve seen, I think it’s because it’s stuff you already know.  I also suspect that it was perhaps how you two operated before you were taken, but after what you went through you just need to feel like you have permission to put it back into practice.”

Why does everything make so much sense when Stan says it?  “You know, I think you’re right.  I – I don’t think I’ve ever worked with a therapist like you, either through school or personally.  You’re very effective.”

He smiles broadly, “Well, being on the team serving the Avengers is fairly unconventional, and sometimes we have to modify programs in unusual ways to fit our clients’ unique needs. Which is what any good practitioner should do, really.”  He shrugs, “But rest assured that our methods are grounded in evidence-based practice, and that my entire team is held to the strictest standards regarding ethics and client outcomes.”  Stan leans forward, eyes sparkling, “And we have very good outcomes.  It’s going to take some work, but you, my dear, are going to be just fine.  And so is Bucky.”

You find yourself nodding. You believe him.

@hellomissmabel @howdoesoneadult  @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest  @shifutheshihtzu @passiononfire  @learisa @widowvinter  @kaaatniss @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @denialanderror  @k-nighttt @givemethatgold @manders2487 @afangirlrambles @polkadottedpillowcase @bluebrrn @saysay125  @aikibriarrose @saharzek @mmauricee @imhereforbvcky  @whenallsaidanddone @supernatural508  @scarlettsoldier  @natalie-nightcourt  @im-beautifully-sewn  @lovemarvelousfics  @feistytravel  @tbetz0341  @nearly-whitches  @jamie-leah  @shliic  @dessinemoiunehistoire  @lucywinchester2000  @solarbarnes  @a-proper-chicken  @movingonto-betterthings @seekingkairos    @part-time-patronus  @natashasnight   @fairislesheets @beccaanne814 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub  @scottish-pepper

[divineluce]

Tickled Ink || Darwin & Luce

Timing: May 6th, 2020

Location: Ink, Inc.

Tagging: @wardinasrani

Notes: Darwin comes in to get an old tattoo touched up and Luce is happy to provide. Not a single heterosexual character was involved in the making of this chatzy.

Tapping her stylus against the edge of the desk, Luce stared at the design on her computer for a long time. It was as good as it was going to get, honestly. The design wasn’t one of her favorites, but the girl who had requested it was very insistent on it. She wanted a half realistic, half geometric butterfly with geometric pieces kinda flying off the geometric side. Had Luce argued with her that it would make an awful piece? No, of course not. She liked getting paid. But, it was going to be a fucking awful time. Booting up her printer, she set the stencil to start printing and wandered out of her room to the lobby. Rory was walking a client through paperwork, but she waved at him all the same. “Your 3 o clock, the butterfly girl? Yeah, she had to reschedule.” The receptionist said. Rolling her eyes, Luce sighed. “Figures. I’ve still got that booking at 6 though, right?” She said before confirming that her evening was booked up. Ugh. She’d put all that fucking work in just to have the girl flake on her. Better for her to get cold feet about it now than when she was getting it zapped away with a laser, though. As Luce scrutinized the schedule, the bell to the shop jangled loudly and she waved offhandedly.

Getting lost had become part of Darwin's daily routine by now. Inevitable when he was still so new to the town, but a hassle nonetheless. On the bright side, it often lead him to discover small little gems, and this time his wandering had led him to stand in front of a small tattoo parlor. “Ink Inc., mh? Catchy, if a bit uninspired.” Yet the place looked clean enough. Darwin lifted his shirt, just enough to glimpse at the faded tattoo on his hip. How long had it been since he'd gotten that protective symbol? Ten years? Twelve? Time, and one too many scuffles with stubborn demons who just wouldn't go back to their own dimension had taken their toll on the ward, to the point where now it had probably lost all its protective properties. Darwin looked at the parlor. “Guess it's time for a little update,” he mumbled to himself before opening the door and just strolling into the parlor as if he owned the place. Without sparing a glance to the woman in the lobby, his eyes drifted immediately to the drawings hanging on the wall. A good protective tattoo needed to be perfect to be effective, so Darwin took his sweet time studying the sketches and pictures. Good lines, a firm hand. Definitely professionals. Nodding to himself with satisfaction he finally turned to the woman, studying her with the same attention he'd given to the works on the wall. Lots of ink on her skin, too, which meant she knew her way around tattoos. His mind made up, Darwin waved at her with a dramatic flourish. “Greetings! I'm here for my appointment.” He had no appointment, of course, but someone probably did, and Darwin was willing to bet their design wasn't nearly as essential as updating his own protective ward.

Luce was no stranger to people coming in and straight up ignoring her-- usually it was because they were too nervous, sometimes it was because they were on their phone, which was hilarious and stupid. But this dude waltzed in like he owned the place, staring at the different art displays around the main lobby. Leaning against the reception desk, she watched as his eyes focused on a couple of her own designs. And when his gaze turned to her, Luce folded her arms across her chest, her sleeve tattoos on prominent display. She met his eyes with an unyielding, unimpressed stare of her own. If this was meant to be some kind of sizing her up thing, she’d been through this before. So many shitty big ass biker dudes had thought that she was some kind of hack, that she couldn’t handle being a tattoo artist. But, they changed their mind real quick once they were in the chair. At his words, Luce lifted an eyebrow. “Mhm, three o clock right? I’ve got your design all drawn up. You wanted the butterfly on the lower back, right, Julia?” She said, her lips curling into a grin.

“Yes, three o'clock, quite right, sorry I'm a little late. Glad you can accommodate my-” Luckily for once in his life Darwin actually managed to listen to what someone else said and he stopped himself in time. He couldn't help but frown a little. He could understand the Julia, many people had described him as flamboyant and Darwin himself had used worse fake names than that, but... “I like to think that if I ever were to get a tramp stamp I'd be able to come up with something more original than a butterfly. Maybe a Barghe-- A wolf skull, with flames coming from its eye sockets and an elaborate rose growing from its mouth.” Sarcasm and indignation wrestled on his face for a second, and then he settled for a short sigh as he took out his phone and glanced at it. “Well, it's already 3.15... I'm guessing Julia stood you up. Care for a replacement?”

“Oh, but it’s a very pretty butterfly. With shards of glass everywhere. Very cute. Sure to bring all the boys to the yard.” Luce said, her grin growing at the man balking at the idea. “Oh, yeah, something as original as a flaming wolf skull and a rose?” She said and tilted her head to one of the art pieces on the wall behind her-- the rose wasn’t growing from the wolf’s mouth, but the wolf skull had fiery eye sockets and was surrounded by roses. She’d done it for Ulf shortly after he’d told her about his wolfy heritage, just to keep it around. “Mhm, fair point. You got a name, not Julia? I’m Luce.” She said, holding out a hand for him. She liked the opportunity to work with someone who could be taken down a peg. Or, at the very least, someone who she could have an amusing back and forth with. Having a chatty client made it more fun when she stabbed them full of needles and ink.

Darwin glanced at the piece and let out a long sigh, burying his face in his hand. “Alas, there goes my new tattoo. Can't have something so similar to another one, imagine the embarrassment if we ever attended the same cocktail party.” After what he deemed an adequate dramatic pause he grabbed Luce's hand and bent down in what looked like a kiss to the hand. His lips never touched the woman's skin, but the smile he flashed up at her oozed charm. Or at least, that's what he liked to think. “Darwin Asrani, it's a pleasure.” He gently let go of Luce, but his eyes lingered once more on her art. “I like your style, and I'd hate to walk out without taking a little bit of your talent with me. Since my first idea was already taken could I bother you for some touch-ups instead? And perhaps we could schedule something new and original for my next visit. I'm thinking a well-dressed dinosaur drinking the blood of his enemies from a fancy teacup. That way people will know that I'm majestic, refined and dangerous.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure it’d send everyone into a panic to be seen with the same tramp stamp. Whatever will people at the country club think?” Luce said with an exaggerated fanning motion, as though she was some kind of fainting Southern belle. When he reached out to grab her hand, she stared at him, both amused and very much ready to knee this man in the face. But, he never kissed her hand-- which, good fucking thing. Anita, kissing her hand? Totally fun and gay and great. This rando? Sexual harassment. As he looked up at her, Luce pulled her hand away and shook her head. “Luce, can’t say the same.” She said, but her tone was joking. This guy was batshit, but in the fun kind of way. She could fuck with that, no hetero. As he continued to spout out bullshit, Luce couldn’t help but laugh. “Sounds like you’ve got a real winner of an idea there. But why not up the ante and make him drinking straight up poison out of the cup? You know, to show that you can’t be fucked with. Go big or go home, you know?” 

“Can't say the same yet,” Darwin corrected her with a confident smirk. “I'm sure you'll find plenty of pleasure in stinging me over and over while I'm on that torture chair of yours.” Truth be told, he appreciated the woman's quick wit: it would be a great distraction. Darwin was no stranger to pain, but he wasn't too keen on it either, and he wouldn't be able to face himself if he started to whimper like a whiny puppy once she had her tools out. Good conversation would help with that, maybe he'd be able to leave the parlor with his dignity, as well as with a retouched tattoo. Darwin stroked his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Poison it is, but it'll have to drink it from a bendy straw. Otherwise all the boys will be too intimidated to really come to my yard, and that would be a tragedy.” He nodded solemnly, and quickly added “But that seems like the sort of design that would require a couple of drafts at least, we can't rush art. So for today I think I'll just have you work on what I already have, if that's alright?”

“Someone thinks highly of himself. But, you’ve got a point there. Not as sharp as mine, but a point all the same.” Luce said, matching his smile with one of her own, with a wink thrown in for good measure. “Oh, in that case, we should change it to a milkshake glass. Just to really make sure the boys aren’t confused.” When the conversation turned to the real reason he walked into the shop, she leaned against the wood of the desk and scrutinized him, trying to see if the art in question was anywhere visible. But, it didn’t seem like it was the case. With a nod, she drummed her hands on the counter top. “What sorta shit are you looking to get done? Cover up, touch up, extension of your piece? I can roll with anything, just know my next appointment is in a couple of hours. So if it goes long, we’ll have to schedule a second session.” She warned, knowing that some people didn’t like the idea of having to come in twice to get work done. But, that was the price of a walk-in. 

“Cherry milkshake, then. It'll look like blood. Plus, it's my favorite.” Darwin said that last part as if he was sharing some deep personal secret. Which wasn't that far off from the truth, only Bertrand and a couple more were aware of his sweet tooth. Then his whole posture changed, and the hint of a playful grin on his face made way to a serious expression. “I need it to be perfect. Two, three, take seven whole weeks if you need to, but it has to be flawless. Matter of life or death.” Namely, his own life or death: relying on a defective protective tattoo had cost more than a couple hours of time to members of his family that were too careless to care. Quickly he lifted his shirt up, letting Luce look at the tattoo on his hip. The size of a closed fist, it was a protection symbol that'd been passed down his family for generation, each Asrani adding his own personal touch. Sanskrit symbols formed a small circle surrounding some other runes intertwined together. The Sanskrit prayer protected his mind from demonic invasions, the runes made it harder for them to interfere with his own magic during the summoning. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective, and any magic user worth their salt would recognize it was more than just some ice-breaker to use in a bar to pick up guys: while the full scope of the tattoo might be a mystery, it was obvious it had power. Or used to have: the black ink was faded with time, and a small scar that suspiciously looked like a claw mark had touched, albeit barely, the edge of the tattoo, interrupting some of the lines. “Do it well, and you’ll have my official permission to call me Julia till the end of time.”

Normally, if a dude decided to flash her in the shop, Luce would have wasted no time in kicking his ass out the door. And Ulfric had even let her get those brand new swords, just for that purpose. But, when her eyes fell on the intricate design, the symbols written in either Arabic or Sanskrit-- the two were difficult to distinguish between with her untrained eyes-- and the very distinct rune that the letters formed… Luce knew exactly what this was, even if she didn’t know the specifics regarding it. This was a rune of protection and a very well done one at that. Her eyes widened as she took in how intricately and cleanly the line work was executed. The attention to detail was exquisite. “Done. Come on in to my room, we’ll get started right away.” She said, leading the way back to her private room of the shop. Her room looked just the same as ever, neat and organized, the large rolling toolbox that she used to hold her equipment tucked in the corner. The walls were decorated with a few shelves that had a couple candles, a polished citrine crystal, and some of her artwork. A pinboard, refreshed with new stencils filled one wall, the prices written on the edges of each paper. Shutting the door behind her, Luce pushed up the sleeve of her t-shirt, showing him the intricate geometric pattern she had tattooed on her skin, the center of which featured a very specific rune, one of fire and power. “You showed me yours, I’ll show you mine. The line work is incredible-- where’d you get it done?”

Darwin was usually good at keeping his reactions under control. Or rather, he often overreacted, but that was a choice, not a mistake. This time though the flash of surprise hadn't been planned, nor was the deep interest as he studied Luce's tattoo. He even raised his hand, one finger extended to trace the symbol on her arm. Luckily, he managed to stop himself in time. “That is remarkable.” While he wasn't an expert on elemental magic, fire was often a component in his rituals, and as such he knew enough to recognize the rune for what it was: authentic. Darwin wasn't sure of the specific purpose of it, but he knew it was... Some sort of catalyst, perhaps? Either way, that rune meant Luce either was a magic user, or knew someone. “What does it represent, exactly?” After a beat, he realized that answering her question with one of his own would not satisfy her, so Darwin quickly added. “Mine is... You could say it's something of a family tradition, really. The design has been passed down for generations. I added my own personal touch to it, because I firmly believe that, ah... Tattoos should be tailored to oneself. Otherwise they're just scribbling on skin, absolutely useless.” Again, a brief pause, where he cleared his throat. “As an ice-breaker, I mean. Obviously.”

When Darwin moved to trace the image etched into her skin, Luce’s eyes narrowed. Apparently this dude was a big tactile kinda guy. Whatever. She could let it slide, just because he seemed to think it was impressive. But, he stopped himself. Good for him. “Thanks. Drew it myself, and had one of the boys do the work. It’s impossible to tattoo yourself from that angle. It’s one of my foci, I use it to give myself a little extra oomph.” She said, rolling her sleeve back down to cover that specific area of her tattoo. Even to those who knew about magic, she had designed her rune in a way that made it nearly indistinguishable from the geometric pattern that surrounded it. A person would have to be familiar with magic and the symbols concerning fire to understand. And, even then, there were more than a few normal humans who walked around with runes they didn’t understand tattooed on her skin. “Hm.” A traditional rune of protection? She could understand why some people would want such a thing. It didn’t tell her anything about what kind of magic he did, only that he was in the business of keeping himself safe rather than channelling additional power. Interesting. “Very nice. And you know I can understand that. Tattoos are an extension of yourself. Family tradition or not, you should express your own personality within it.” She said with a nod before returning to her more businesslike demeanor. “A touch up for that bad boy of yours won’t be easy, but I do good work. I can guarantee nice, clean lines.”

Someone who knew what a focus was and used the right plural for it. If Darwin hadn't been so gay he would have fawned himself like an excited school-girl. Instead he settled for an impressed nod and another smile. He was dying to know more about her, to learn how much she actually knew, what she did... But it was dangerous: for all Darwin knew his family would eventually look for him, and he couldn't just trust the first magic-inclined person he met. Well, second one, but Winston spoke like a newbie, Darwin doubted they had any ties to the Asrani. So, in order to protect himself, Darwin decided for it'd be best to bring the focus back on the reason he was here, and luckily Luce seemed to share that idea. “Oh, I don't doubt your ability. What's more, you seem to know how crucial precision is with this kind of design, so... Just tell me where you want me and please, be careful. I'm ticklish.” Not one to usually follow orders, this time Darwin got himself into the mind frame of listening to each and every instruction she'd give. Then again looking at the various tools in the studio reminded him of exactly why he'd put it off for so long. Stupid needles. A sharp ceremonial knife across his arm never scared him, the pain only lasted a second and then he had rituals to focus on and distract him from it, but the chair of a tattoo-artist meant he'd have to feel each and every single sting. Safety be damned, he needed the distraction. “So, an extra oomph. Amber stones just weren't doing it for you? Most practitioners I've met tended to favor something less...” Traceable? Recognizable? “Permanent to channel their magic.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Lie on back and I’ll get everything started.” Luce said, gesturing to the chair between them. “Take your shirt off too, can’t have it getting in the way.” She said as she got the needles, ink, and a fresh pair of gloves on. The business of touch ups wasn’t too difficult, not usually. But on something that was this precise, this delicate, she needed to make sure that she had everything just right. “Trust me, I know. It took a while before I found the right artist to do my sleeve and I made sure the guy’s hands were just as steady as mine. Precision matters for work like this.” She said as she pulled her long hair back in a ponytail. Snapping on some fresh gloves, she noted the apprehension on his face as she pulled out the tools of the trade, the individually packaged needles that sat on a sterile tray, her machine poised at the ready. Setting up her machine, she took out a spray bottle of sterile solution and wiped down the patch of skin that was to be her workspace. “Let’s get started, hm?” She nodded, switching on her machine. The familiar humming vibration filled the room and she set to work, tackling the biggest area of faded skin and ink first. “I’m not like most practitioners. Besides. My symbols blend in with my designs. I hide them in plain sight. Distract with the main design to keep the attention away from the purpose.”

Darwin did as he was told, taking off his shirt and carefully folding it before taking his place on the chair. He wasn't too concerned with the shirt itself, it was more an excuse to buy some time: just like the last time the sight of the needles made his knees a little weak and his face just a tad paler; he hoped she wouldn't notice. When she started the pain wasn't that bad. At first. But Darwin knew how these things went, it would only become worse, so he decided to just focus on Luce's words instead, drinking them in. “Smart. Misdirection is often a magician's best friend.” He tensed his stomach in discomfort, and he noticed that she seemed to anticipate that and stop her work, which put his mind at ease: she really was a professional. “Besides, in my experience the times you need... Ah, an extra oomph, as you put it, are often the times when you can't afford your focus to be swatted away. A crystal can be dropped, a tattoo... Not so much.” Again, he flinched, doing his best to hide the grimace behind another smile. “I could think of at least a dozen times that tattoo has saved my life, it's nice to know the bad things'll have a harder time getting into my head.” He bit his lip, suddenly deep in thought. Then he looked at Luce. “So, let's say I designed another one, maybe something to help with channeling... How much would you ask to make it all discreet and pretty-like? I got a feeling I'll need some extra power in this town, but I can’t give up on style.”

While she was focused on her work, Luce considered being able to read her client’s body language a part of that. She’d tattooed her own sisters, after all, and the two of them hated needles more than anyone she knew. Which is why she paused every so often, checking the man’s expression, making sure that he never went pale and that he remained alert. She nodded at his comment as she wiped away some of the ink from the skin with a paper towel, clearing the area so she could continue over the delicate, intricate letters and symbols. But, internally she frowned at the idea of being called a magician. That was Bea’s thing. Not hers. “Exactly. It’s always nice to have it on hand. Or rather, on shoulder.” She joked. She watched him flinch and paused, lifted needle away from his skin. She didn’t want to ruin his… rune. As she continued her work, his words played around in her mind. Dozens of times, hm? That explained the wear and tear on it. But, getting into his head-- what did that mean? Someone try to take his memory, like her sister did to August? Or did he mean something else. Hm. “Channeling? Depends on what kind of thing you’re channeling.” She said, pulling away to look at her handiwork from afar. Nice. “For the elements, I use the old alchemical symbols. They blend in nicely with my style. Sacred geometry.” She said, tilting her head to the pinboard with some of her designs were displayed. “For other things… I could hide it in a landscape, imbued with power. Or in the gilded edges of a neo-traditional mirror. It all depends on what you’re looking to channel.”

“Elements, huh? So I was right, you really are a Firecracker.” Darwin said with a small shrug, one that he immediately regretted. “For me it's usually safer to stay away from flames, but most rituals draw power from the elements, I thought I recognized something.” He grew silent, his brows furrowing. What was he looking to channel? Truth be told, the potential of a new tattoo hadn't really crossed his mind before now, but he had to admit, it was a brilliant idea: before running away he'd always had another ritualist to help out, but ever since he'd escaped he'd been on his own, and tangoing with demons was a dangerous hobby, one that took a lot out of him. If he could pick one thing to improve in his spell casting, what would it be? Finally, after a long pause, he murmured, more to himself than Luce. “Stability. That's what I need. An actual anchor for my power. Ever felt like you're a breath away from casting the perfect spell and then something goes wrong and all that energy you collected just slips away? I can't afford tha- Ouch! Careful, there!” Oh yeah, now he remembered: the part over the bone had been the worse, even when he first got the tattoo. He steadied himself and focused on the conversation again, humor the only coping mechanism he had left while at Luce’s mercy. “Whatever design I come up with, I'm sure you'll be able to fit it into our fabulous dinosaur. No one would look for a power rune there.”

“You know it.” Luce said, flipping him off, the alchemical symbol for fire on full display on her finger. For all he knew, she did other magic, focused in other spells. But, that had never been something she’d wanted. Fire was in her blood and it was all she wanted to study. All energy, all life on Earth depended on fire just as surely as it depended on the other elements. His mention of rituals, they didn’t give much away in the nature of what he did. Everyone did rituals-- the coven did circles and rituals all the time, to strengthen their ties to the earth and to the magic within themselves. But, stability. That was an interesting one. “Hm.” She said with a nod. She’d felt that sensation once before, only once. Messing with creating a fire so hot, so blinding, that it barely felt like the flames that she was so used to controlling. In that moment, power beyond her imagination was within her grasp. Only for it to slid away. At his protests, Luce laughed, “Don’t be a child.” She said, but used a gentler hand as she tattooed over his hip. Steady hand, steady pokes.“Mm, of course. I could work it into the scales of the dinosaur, or maybe even into the monocle on his eye. He’s got to have a monocle.”

“Easy to say when you're not the one being poked to death,” Darwin mumbled, slowly raising the hand on the opposite side of his tattoo to flip her off. Normally he'd never resort to such crude gestures, but he'd learned to adapt to the person -or creature- in front of him, mimicking their habits in order to better anticipate their movements, their attacks, their plans. Also, he was in pain, he was allowed a slip in style. Despite his protests, he stilled himself, doing his best to suppress every small shiver and tremor and, more importantly, every chuckle: flipping someone off was one thing, but going into a giggling fit would wreck his reputation as well as his tattoo, and he definitely hoped to stay in contact with Luce. “Of course he has a monocle, what kind of uncultured swine do you take him for? And I'll name him Bertrand II, after my...” Demonic pet? Too personal, too soon, who knew how she'd take it. “...Familiar.” Hopefully she'd mistake that hesitation for another reaction to the tattooing process, but even then, Darwin realized he wouldn't be able to keep twisting the truth without focusing 100% on the conversation, and her needle was distracting at best. “I refuse to burst into tears on your chair, so... How about some music? To take my mind off the damned buzzing? I'll take anything, as long as it's loud and I can sing along. Yes, I sing, feel free to swoon.”

“You say that like I haven’t sat in that chair for hours myself.” Luce snorted, gesturing to her elaborate sleeve tattoos. He didn’t need to know about all her other tattoos-- those were reserved for the lovely ladies she took to bed. “You can talk to me about being poked to death when you get a rib tattoo or three.” She said. A hawk and a peacock, for Nell and Bea. Though they wouldn’t know that. No, they just thought the matching tattoos across the sternum was all she had for them. The pause in his voice didn’t go unnoticed and Luce arched her eyebrow as she continued to trace the linework. “Your familiar, huh? I’m sure he’ll be touched by it.” Iggy new that she wouldn’t ever be getting a tattoo of him, that was for damn certain. “Gonna cry? This is so sad, Alexa, play Despacito.” She said, leaning back in her chair as the little gadget lit up and the musical stylings of not the Justin Beiber version filled the air. With a grin, she set back to work, humming quietly to herself as she drew. Darwin, huh? Just what kind of spellcaster was he? She supposed she’d just have to find out another time.

[teruthecreator]

💘 for macknerva!!

anon, you are a genius. you’ve basically just sent the magical question that has now unlocked for the world: macknerva origin story (bc honestly i realized i just start posting abt it without rlly explaining it??? and someone people are loving it??? so thank yall for being my ultimate favs but u deserve this origin) 

also this is several days late (thank u Depression) and also super long (thank u Dumb Brain) so i hope you can forgive me for both of these things   

💘: who developed a crush on the other first? 

it’s time we take it back....Back To The Start.  

so since this is my magical world of My Own Personal Canon (since i stole griffin mcelroys rights), minerva ends up in Kepler in a completely unnamed and not talked abt manner (bc im too tired to explain my general alternate theory hgkgldlgbfhke but busically she just got on a ship to earth to avoid dying) and is staying with duck until further notice. she doesn’t mind laying low at duck’s apartment until they’re able to figure out Everything and get her set up w a place of her own (spoiler alert: that never happens, but duck won’t admit he just misses having a roommate so they let it slide). 

after about a month (which feels like eons in minerva’s mind), she starts to get antsy. she’s already been introduced to the pine guard and amnesty lodge, by this point, so she’s constantly trying to hang out with someone so she isn’t stuck in duck’s apartment all hours of the day. 

which is how minerva ends up in the cryptonomica the day kirby has to run into his job at the theatre for a good portion of the day. it’s pretty empty in the shop--i mean museum, so it’s not like ned minds (plus him and mack have already struck up an agreement, which i explained in a previous post abt ned and macks friendship) especially when minerva’s around to willingly pick up the slack. 

but this second job has minerva curious: 

minerva: I assumed your assistant, Kirby, had only the singular position at your museum?  ned, from behind the counter: Oh, for a while he did, but then the theatre opened up and his services were needed elsewhere. And who am I, Ned “Theatrical” Chicane, to deny such a marvelous establishment of the skills and technical prowess Kirby possesses?”  minerva: Oh? A theatre, you say? 

here comes some random personal hc: on her homeworld, minerva was involved in her planet’s form of theatre (which i’ve always pictured to be very greek-esque, thus explaining her naturally booming voice) and absolutely adored it as a hobby. she, obviously, understands there will be a difference between Earthen theatre and the theatre she once performed; but there is no denying that that thought barely crossed her mind as she proceeded to pester ned about the theatre until he suggested she get a part-time job there. 

(ned knows mack’s struggles with keeping hires at the theatre, which is why he is quick to suggest minerva get a job there. that, and ned knows enough abt mack at this point to pretty accurately guess her Type. so let’s just say ned was doing this for both macks gain, but also for his gain to be able to harass her abt her hot new employee that he totally inflicted on her on purpose) 

ned probably brings it up later that night, or the next day. just really casually drops that he has someone interested in a position at the theatre:

mack: Holy fuck--yes, Ned! Tell them they’re hired!!! What can they do?   ned: Hmmmmm, well she’s quite fit, and has no qualms with getting her hands dirty.  mack: Oh, perfect! I need some more set builders! Thanks a whole lot, Ned. I knew you’d always have my back.  ned, knowing full well what he’s just wrought: Oh, of course, dear Mackerel. Anything for a friend! 

cue the next day: mack is just going about the theatre, business as usual, staying sort of close to the house doors so she can be Right There when ned comes in with the new hire. she’s faced away from the doors, checking something on her phone (probably her texts with ned, to see if he’s arrived yet) when she hears the doors open and shut. mack turns around to witness the Hottest Woman She Has Ever Seen In Her Goddamn Life. 

she’s tall--holy shit is she tall--with beautiful dark skin painted with these almost glowing blue tattoos that travel all the way across powerful arms and a prominent collarbone. but the tattoos don’t stop there, of course they don’t. they go all the way up to this woman’s bald head, perfectly framing her beautiful face. high cheekbones, strong chin, a wonderful nose (mack doesn’t have much of a preference for noses but this one is perfect she just knows it), masterfully-carved eyebrows that look like they were chiseled out of stone, and those enchanting, bright, beautiful bright blue eyes.  

mack’s brain basically short-circuits once minerva smiles at her (with those pearly white teeth and a grin so inviting it feels like her whole heart is melting), so she’s barely able to process the smug ned beside minerva. 

@goforduck drew this scene for me a while back and imma show it to u all bc i love him, his art, and the hot takes he gives my special lil ship: 

needless to say, mack Is Attracted, but i wouldn’t necessarily consider it a crush. meanwhile, minerva’s pov, she’s so damn excited for this job that she’s practically vibrating on the way in. and then, like romantic poetic would have it, all of that energy halts as time stands still and minerva locks eyes with....mack.  

mack definitely looks a little disheveled, but it’s like every fly-away hair crowns her head like a halo as those gemstones-for-eyes lock w minerva. she’s never seen someone she has felt so immediately attracted to in her life. but, that being said, she still does not Have A Crush. 

so after all the awkward blustering (AKA mack tripping over every eighth word as minerva turns on the Charm to keep that blush on mack’s freckled face) mack starts to get minerva accustomed to the work environment and the tasks she’d need to do. eventually, she hands minnie off to kirby bc shes got work to do, and the rest of the day goes by uneventfully. 

now minerva works at the theatre, and she’s Delighted w it. the job is easy but entertaining, she’s making friends, her knowledge of the world is expanding, and she now has a target for some very playful flirting and obvious showing-off of her muscles. because, listen....she has Eyes. she Knows mack always blusters whenever she’s around. and she knows herself, too. mack is cute and minerva likes making her blush. but there hasn’t been that moment where things are taken seriously.  

until about a month in, when minerva walks into something she maybe shouldn’t have but also definitely should have. 

you see, mack has a very important ritual in the morning. she arrives at the theatre at the absolute ass crack of dawn so she can get her yoga/stretching/vocal warmups in (since she is still a performer at heart and this has been her routine since college) and then sit by herself on the stage just sorta soaking it all in before kirby comes in with her coffee (which she needs in order to get up from her seated position on the stage bc she is that much of a coffee addict). just about every employee on staff knows not to even bother coming in this early bc 1. this ritual is very Private and Sacred to mack and 2. ur not even gonna be able to speak to her unless ur kirby w her coffee. 

“just about” encompasses every employee except for minerva, who decides to show up before kirby to bring mack her coffee (that she memorized after cornering kirby for the specifics one day) 

so she comes in the back entrance and is sort of at a loss as to where mack may be bc she doesn’t know mack’s routine. and she’s just kinda wandering aimlessly through all the shops and little rooms until she reaches the wings, where she hears the gentle strumming of a guitar. 

she approaches, with all the caution of a woman who has spent years mastering the art of stealth along w her combat studies, and comes upon the following scene: 

mack is seated in the exact center of the stage, eyes shut peacefully as her body sways to the tempo of the song she’s strumming on the guitar she’s playing (which minerva recognizes as the guitar that some idiot pit member left here about two weeks ago). she’s singing (the song is Dream A Little Dream of Me), and her voice is so soft yet so resonate that minerva feels as if she could stand right next to her or be 1000 feet away and hear the exact same thing. and she sounds so good, so completely in the song she’s performing and in her contentedness that it eases some subconscious unease minerva was holding. in the time minerva’s known mack, it’s the most natural she’s ever heard or seen her, just playing for an invisible audience in the dim lights of a theatre not yet awakened. 

minerva doesn’t realize she’s drifting closer to mack until she steps on an uneven plank, and the noise snaps mack out of her little world as she turns to the noise. needless to say, she’s a little surprised that minerva’s here this early, but then minerva wordlessly hands her her coffee and so mack could care less. she accepts the drink w a smile and then decides to go to her office to get started on some business emails. 

it isn’t until mack has already left the stage, and minerva is still stuck in the same position she was when she handed mack her coffee--heart racing a million miles a minute, face hot, and stomach feeling as if an entire colony of butterflies suddenly took refuge there--that minerva realizes that she is Endlessly, Hopelessly Fucked In Love. 

So yeah, TLDR; Minerva was first. 

[bts-jimin16]

BTS Reaction - Telling their S/O They are Virgins

Namjoon

Namjoon wasn’t all too ashamed about still being a virgin at the age of 22 because he knew he just didn’t have the time to get to know someone for long enough to build a relationship to where it got to that step, but here he was with you, your relationship going for a strong 4 months and he felt like you both were in the right part of your relationship to take it to the next step. You were surprised at his sudden confession, not expecting that he was still a virgin because he was very skilled in other areas when it came to that field. You felt somewhat glad that you would be his first but at the back of your mind you were a little worried that you wouldn’t be good enough because you weren’t all that experienced yourself. 

“We can be each others first”

Seokjin

Intimacy, it was the one thing you and Jin haven’t ventured in with your relationship. You had been dating Jin for about 6 months now and things were going smoothly, it was just the fact that he never let things escalate further than mild groping while making out. You were starting to question your attractiveness to him. So today, you came up with a plan, you were going to wear his favourite dress to try to seduce him over dinner. You could tell he couldn't keep his eyes off of you, especially when he would continue twirling the same forkful of spaghetti for 20 seconds. You got up gingerly before crossing the table to his side. You sat on his lap, seductively biting you lip before softly pecking his lips, letting your lips linger for a while. Before you knew it, you were on your back with Jin above you, his hands groping your skin over your dress. You made a move to take off his shirt before he stiffened and drew back. 'What was the problem?' You had asked, slightly frustrated with the entire situation. He sighed softly before admitting that he was a virgin. A virgin was the furthest thing in your mind when it came to Jin. His sex appeal was ridiculous, so it had never crossed your mind that there was a possibility for him to be inexperienced. You smiled softly before wrapping your arms around his waist.

"I'm not experienced enough for you"

Yoongi

Just like Namjoon he didn’t care much about him still being a virgin, he had chances before where he had the choice to have sex but it just wasn’t the right time or the right person for him, call him old fashion but that’s how he was. Being with you was totally different, your connection was something that he treasured, he felt like he could share all his problems and concerns with you, realising this he decided he would tell you that he was ready for you both take the next step, only if you were ready of course. You were all more than ready to deepen your relationship with Yoongi but when he told you that you would be his first you were shocked but totally understood the reason why. Suddenly feeling way more attracted to your boyfriend you walked towards him and straddled his lap, each of your legs at the sides of his as you kissed him with before you pulled away.

“How about we further our relationship right now”

Hoseok

Hoseok The boys and I had been in the dance practice room for a while now. They were messing around and I was, as usual, sat on the ground in the corner, watching Hoseok with mini intervals phone time. They had started off with the dance routine to fire, then baepsae before finishing with their dance routine for Blood, Sweat & Tears. Blood, sweat and tears was, incomparably my favorite dance practice out of them all. The butter smooth transitions into each of the member's parts was enchanting, especially Hoseok's. He just had a way of making my eyes focus on him when ever he danced. He just looked so sexy. After they had finished, he walked straight over to me, his body glistening with sweat while a satisfied smile adorned his face. ' How many girls have you charmed into bed with that dance?' you teased him lightly. You two had never been intimate, being that you were still in the early stages of dating, but you always did wonder what it would be like to take that step with him. To your surprise he softly uttered that he was still a virgin. Your body filled with warmth at the thought of being the first person to see that side of him.

“Jagi don’t worry, you will be the first”

Jimin

You and Jimin were currently on the couch in the middle of a heated make out session. His hands that were previously tangled in your hair was now teasingly running down your back,sending tingles down your spine, making his way to your hips. His grip on you tighten as he felt his pants become a size smaller, needing more friction he guided your hips to rock back and forth against his. He couldn’t help but let a groan of satisfaction pass his lips for he was loving this new sensation. You yourself was a groaning mess, you waited so long this and hopefully you wouldn’t have to wait any longer if this continued to go where you think it was going. Sure you and Jimin had been intimate before but it was just a little groping here and there when you two made out. Needing to feel more of him and not just through his jeans you slowly moved your hand down his toned chest until it reached what you were looking for, his jeans, as you were about to remove the band of leather that was keeping you from what you wanted his hand immediately stopped yours. Taken back at his sudden actions you reluctantly pulled away from his now swollen lips to ask him why he stopped you. Jimin wasn’t sure how you’d react to him being inexperiended in this field, so he was hesitant in telling you why he had stopped you, gaining the courage he blurted it out. All you could do was smile, him being a virgin didn’t change the way you felt about him in the slightest.

“I..I never had sex before”

“Well I think it’s time to change that”

Taehyung 

Movie nights were something you always enjoyed. Especially since it was a very effective way to spend time with Tae. He was almost always busy, whether it be tours when he'd be away for months on end, or just schedules where he'd attend fan meets, have recording sessions, and have dance practices. So when ever he got to come home, we'd have a movie night, just the two of us and a movie of our choice. We'd been in the middle of watching a newly released movie when a mild sex scene came on when suddenly, the mood became extremely tense. You looked across at Taehyung, slightly confused as to why he was twitching his hands and avoiding eye contact with you at all costs. If there was one thing you knew about Taehyung, if not anything else, was that he thoroughly enjoyed eye contact with you. He always said he could see every emotion just by glancing into my eyes, and he loved it.' Babe, what's wrong?' I asked, concerned. Was the movie that I picked that bad? He cleared his throat before turning to face me, still avoiding my gaze. 'It makes me uncomfortable' he said softly, a slight blush adorning his face. 'Why?' i asked curiously. 'Because i haven't experienced any of that before' he replied, his ears turning red. I hadn't even thought of that possibility. I simultaneously blushed with him.

“Me neither”

Jungkook

It had been 6 hours straight that Jungkook had been playing videos and not paying you any attention. You tried to catch his attention many times, you even cooked his favourite dish but he just nodded in your direction saying to put it in the oven until he was ready, his eyes not budging from the TV screen not even for a split second. You huffed about to give up when an idea popped into your head, a smirk forming on lips as you got up from your spot on the bed and slowly made your way over to where he was seated. Not caring if he lost his game you place yourself in his lap and straddled his waist. He finally stopped curious of your actions. You wasted no time in attacking his lips lightly sucking his bottom lip. He immediately reacted by dropping the remote to grab your waist and kissed you back. Smirking at your plan working you started to push him down on the bed as your make out session became more intense. You realised he was being hesitant about the way he touched you or trying to carry this any further. A little disappointed you detached you lips from his and looked at him with curiosity. 

“What’s wrong, aren’t you sexually attracted to me?” 

“No no no I am, it’s just...... I sorta kinda never had sex before..”

[airanke]

Attempt #2: I will take Vol'jin & Nadia, Amita and Jalga, and Nadia and V's rival whose name I can't remember for the meme thing!!!! (And for the % things on too, if that's okay :P)

MMMMMMMMM JALITA AND NADIA X TRIGON???? OMG. THIS’LL BE INTERESTING–

OH and yeah I can do that too!! I’ll put it in a separate post though, cuz this one will be pretty long with three ships!

@madmadameem yeeeeeeeeesssss

Vol’jin x Nadia!

who takes longer showers?

I’mma go with Nadia! She has a thick mass of hair, so caring for it probably takes longer than one would normally think (and let’s not forget about drying time too)! I’m pretty sure Vol’jin gets impatient at points and either drags her out or she just finds him sitting on a chair / on the bed staring at the door until she leaves. He helps her brush it - cuz I mean, I totally support the idea of trolls bonding via grooming u w u /

(rest under the cut!)

how do they make up after a fight?

SHIT MAN FROM WHAT I’VE READ VOL’JIN AND NADIA DON’T DO THE MAKING UP AFTER A FIGHT THING VERY WELL– but. I think that they would eventually sit down and talk about it, either by Nadia cornering Vol’jin, or by Vol’jin probably just picking Nadia up and carrying her off. Both of these things being done in the “we’re going to talk about this and you’re going to LIKE IT” sort of way haha! They strike me more as a “let’s talk it out now that we’ve both calmed down” sort O:

who prefers rain and who prefers sun?

I still run with the idea of Vol’jin preferring the rain because it reminds him of First Home ; w ; ! That being said, I kind of feel that after being in Durotar for so long, Nadia starts to prefer the rain as well - plus, with her being a mage, she can manipulate the water by freezing it and such, so I can imagine it being a very relaxing thing for her to do!

what’s their favorite place to go together?

Awww shizzle. I’m… not entirely sure? I know they would have a preference to more private places rather than public places (also this just based off what I’ve read PFFT since it’s like A LOT OF THE TIME THEY’RE TRYING TO KEEP THINGS A SECRET children pls). Umm if I had to pick a place… I feel like somewhere in Hyjal? IDK why, it’s a relatively easy place to fly to from Orgrimmar, and it’s really beautiful, and it would also be the last place anyone would think to look for them (so I mean they’d probably stress everyone out but when you want privacy YOU WANT PRIVACY ain’t nothin’ stopping you!)

who’s more likely to be voted prom king/queen?

Both of them of course! Both have the looks and the personality, they both gonna be the king and queen of the night u w u /

do they celebrate anniversaries, etc.?

Hrm… I can see them celebrating their anniversaries! Other than that, I’m not too sure what holidays they might enjoy celebrating together (though I can imagine Brewfest is an enjoyable one just because of all the silly shenanigans that can happen).

who’d pressure the other into singing karaoke?

UM I’m thinking Vol’jin would put the pressure on Nadia– between the two of them, she can probably sing better (though I’ve always imagined Vol’jin to have a gravelly singing voice, if he DOES sing).

what’s their nightly routine?

GROOMING because this is apparently the beginning of any routine involving a troll– I imagine that Nadia likes to take some time to moisturiser her face (I??? Don’t know where that came from but she looks like she has such soft, supple cheeks so MOISTURISING IT IS), or at least her part of the routine includes some kind of skin care. And more hair care. Because that hair. And then Vol’jin eventually gets annoyed with how long she’s taking and drags her into bed for cuddles u w u

who’s more likely to burn dinner?

… I’m so sorry Nadia I have always headcanoned Vol’jin being rather CAPABLE SO DESPITE THE FACT THAT YOU CAN OBVIOUSLY MAKE A REALLY NICE SOUP you are more likely to burn dinner— //BRICKED. It’s… it’s because she’s a mage…. she gets distracted… THAT’S MY EXCUSE.

Jalga x Amita!

who takes longer showers?

They both do because no matter what Amita does Jalga manages to sneak in every single time. He’s a rogue. She can’t stop him. His reasoning is he wants to help her with her waterfall of hair, but the truth is he just wants to kiss her neck. Jalga has a thing for Amita’s neck–

how do they make up after a fight?

Jalga is always the one who wants to talk about everything after a fight, which is good because Amita is rather avoidant. He makes it a point to seek her out and either ask what he did wrong or express to her what she did wrong, and is definitely the “we’re talking about this whether you like it or not” sort more than anything else.

who prefers rain and who prefers sun?

Jalga prefers the rain, and Amita prefers the sun. Jalga, though, likes to drag Amita into the rain with him totally not because he’s trying to seduce her with his romantic capabilities. That, and he will often just lie with Amita in the sun despite not being huge on the sun himself (it’s because he’s a rogue. He subconsciously wants to be hidden 99% of the time).

what’s their favorite place to go together?

Honestly? The dock in Ratchet. When it’s early morning and the boats aren’t coming or going yet, and when it’s late at night, again when the boats aren’t coming or going. They just like to sit there and enjoy each other’s company, and talk about things. And make out.

who’s more likely to be voted prom king/queen?

Both of them! Jalga is somewhat timid and sweet, and Amita is Amita! They both have the personalities and the looks to get all those votes!

do they celebrate anniversaries, etc.?

Not necessarily, but Jalga likes to take Amita off on little adventures to escape the Barrens every now and then (think of the Micro Holidays that were recently added in WoW). Bonus that he likes to drag Bujune along with them too, so there gets to be some mother/son time nestled in between all the time Jalga and Amita spend together u w u

who’d pressure the other into singing karaoke?

Jalga would pressure Amita. He knows she can sing - after all, I mean, she sings for him every night I mean what.

what’s their nightly routine?

Jalga makes sure to tend to Amita before they go to bed. That means exactly what it sounds like - y’know, brushing / braiding her hair, taking out her earrings (she can do this herself, but Jalga likes to do it for her, so she lets him). As for Amita, she returns the favor by actually tending to Jalga’s tusks. He prefers to keep them short, considering that he’s a rogue and if they’re larger than could easily catch on things, so Amita will break out the sand paper / a sanding block and carefully file his tusks. It’s something that’s best done every night, that way not too much has to be sanded off each time (and yeah, as a result of that, Jalga generally has smooth looking tusks).

who’s more likely to burn dinner?

Amita of course XD As I mentioned in the Amita x Vol’jin one, she can sometimes get distracted when she cooks, especially if it’s near a campfire! Jalga is less likely to burn food, but sometimes Amita distracts him sooooooo… he kinda sorta burns dinner too.

Tirgon x Nadia!

who takes longer showers?

Nadia. Because Trigon is like in the shower for five minutes and then basically done. He’s HELLA EFFICIENT OKAY??? I swear if Nadia takes longer than ten he’s coming in there and helping her or definitely NOT helping her…. depending… on which way that ends up going.

how do they make up after a fight?

Well shit. Trigon is arrogant at the very least and proud at the very best. But at the same time he’s also incredibly logical, so while he wouldn’t immediately admit when he’s in the wrong, he’ll get to it (on top of that he has one fierce temper). He’d have to calm down first, reassess what happened, and then when he comes to a conclusion, he’ll get off his high horse and talk to Nadia (regardless of if he’s “right” or “wrong”. He’s a strategist and highly intelligent, so he knows that talking shit out is better than stubbornly clinging to being “right” or “wrong”). SO EITHER WAY, they’d make up after a fight ultimately by Trigon storming into wherever Nadia is either opening with a) “I WAS RIGHT AND YOU WERE WRONG HOWEVER–” or b) “YOU WERE RIGHT AND I WAS WRONG HOWEVER–” and go from there with a discussion. Trigon stop being so DAMN AGGRESSIVE.

who prefers rain and who prefers sun?

Both Nadia and Trigon would prefer the rain. Trigon tends to hide in the shadows (let’s face it, he’s an assassin, he doesn’t want to be seen) buuuut when Trigon is in the sun, his scars glint in the sunlight, kinda like onyxes. He’d rather people not stare and/or ask questions about them, so he sticks to places where he’s not easily seen. Nadia I’m sure would have some fun impressing him with her ice magic (and I mean Trigon isn’t impossible to impress, he just doesn’t visibly show when he is most of the time - but if he sticks around to watch someone, it means he’s impressed!! And he would def stick around to watch Nadia do her little tricks).

what’s their favorite place to go together?

Hrm… Trigon’s not an Azeroth native, so this one is a teensy more difficult than the others… I feel like he’d take a liking to possibly Northrend areas or more traditional troll areas? After all the trolls on Azeroth live very differently from the trolls on Ether. Hrm… a specific place though… I think they would both settle on the library in Dalaran tbh. Trigon will take any reason to expand his knowledge, so he would definitely enjoy being in a library. In fact, this is probably the one time Nadia would discover that he’s not all “fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you in particular” and that he actually has a calmer, more conversational side u w u /

who’s more likely to be voted prom king/queen?

Nadia for sure prom queen. Trigon my gawd your personality leaves a lot to be desired. You’re really hot, we know this, but FOR PETE’S SAKE TONE DOWN THE CUSSING THAT’S VERY UNATTRACTIVE MY DUDE– naw, it’s a 50/50 thing for Trigon. He’s stern and headstrong (and arrogant asf), so his personality is a hit or miss with most people. Depends on how many people there actually like him that would determine whether or not he’d be prom king.

do they celebrate anniversaries, etc.?

Like Jalga with Amita, I like to think that Trigon would just show up randomly and be like “hey the Hippogriphs are hatching we’re goin’” and just whisk Nadia away LMAO!! BUUUT I also see them very much enjoying the Lunar Festival for some reason… it’s probably the lanterns. Trigon may or may not be weak for dim lighting and soft flames. Spoiler he totally is.

who’d pressure the other into singing karaoke?

Okay so funnily enough Trigon would encourage Nadia to sing by doing the whole “yeah sure, of course you can” or “bet you can’t” thing?? And then sitting there smirking while she proves him wrong until she realizes that she’s done exactly what he wanted and then resorts to glaring at him because he’s so fucking cocky.

what’s their nightly routine?

Okay now this one would actually start with them studying something and/or reading books together. As I mentioned Trigon is highly intelligent, and will take any and all reason to expand his knowledge. This of course means he would take a great interest in any magical texts, not only because it would teach him more about Azeroth magic, but also because it would increase his ability to incapacitate mages (boy is best against mages PFFT). Depending on what they’d gotten up to that day, or if Nadia has been particularly stressed, Trigon might actually whip up a bath. Like with the candles and rose petals and everything, I’mnotevenjokingHAHAHA. This would be his best efforts to get Nadia to relax. Or he helps her relax in other ways - and he is definitely the type to get all cocksure and teasing if she wants, y’know, something and his face totally says “I know exactly what you’re trying to ask me but I’m going to play dumb because I want to hear you say it”.

who’s more likely to burn dinner?

I don’t think either of them??? Trigon lives alone with his two brothers, and they were all in the Military (which… is the travelling army portion of the forces that Trigon is with //WEEPS) so they had to learn how to cook proper meals?? So yeah, neither Trigon nor Nadia would burn dinner. They probably try to out-cook each other sometimes. THAT WOULD BE REALLY FUNNY ACTUALLY— then they just wind up with too much food and look at each other and go “… well. I guess it’s time to invite people over for an impromptu dinner….”. They never learn their lesson.

Lawd I love Trigon so much you don’t eVEN UNDERSTAND—

[raspberrytummytickles]

When I First Saw You

Title: When I First Saw You Fandom: Supernatural RPF Characters: (Jensen/Jared) Summary: Ticklish!Jared; When Jensen first met Jared, he fell. He fell hard.

A/N: I had this stuck in my head and needed to write it out. Hope you like it!!!!

"Hey Jared!" Jensen called, feeling elated at the happy smile that came across Jared's face at seeing him.

"Hey Jensen!"

When Jensen first met Jared, he fell head over heels for the adorable kid. He had the brightest eyes in the world, the sweetest dimply smile and the best laugh. Jensen loved it when Jared laughed because it made him want to join in.

Jensen worried at first that his feelings weren't reciprocated, Jared's flirty nature being apart of who he is. It was just his personality so Jensen couldn't tell if he was actually interested in Jensen. But, when Jared gave Jensen a small peck on the cheek after a hard take and a flushed "Good job, dude," he knew that Jared would be his. For now, though, Jensen enjoyed playing the game of Cat and Mouse with Jared.

"Can we head you your trailer? I'm so freaking tired!"

"Me too!" Jared agreed, shoulders brushing against Jensen's, hands tickling his palms. They got to Jared's trailer, the younger of the two flopping on the couch and groaning. "They got me on a new work out regimen because Sam is too skinny."

"He kinda is," Jensen teased, poking Jared's side. Jared flinched away with a giggle, narrowing his eyes at Jensen. He reached over and playfully scribbled along Jensen's chest and ribs making the older man yelp and chuckle. "Hey!"

"Hey yourself."

"I wouldn't do that, kiddo!" Jensen warned. Jared giggled again, looking up at Jensen through his lashes, a dimple poking out of his cheek. The sight was too precious. Jensen swallowed, face feeling extra heated.

"I like tickling you. It makes you laugh."

Jared had found out early on in this partnership/coworker...ship...that Jensen didn't smile all that often. He liked being professional. Jared decided to change that, forcing himself into Jensen's perfectly planned routine till the guy learned to take breaks and relax while also not getting lazy with it. Jared also learned that Jensen was particularly sensitive on his upper body and his hips, the younger exploiting it every chance he could to get Jensen smiling.

The man never complained.

Jensen smiled at Jared, one hand brushing away some stray hairs. They shouldn't be doing this, the kid was 22, a grown up, but they had Supernatural to think about. Jensen didn't really care though because he wanted Jared. Jared nuzzled his face in Jensen's palm, nosing the soft flesh. Jensen leaned down more, hand losing to Jared's side as he pressed their foreheads together. Their lips barely brushed when Jared was pulling away, giggling quietly.

"Jay?" Jensen asked, suddenly unsure.

"I-I'm sorry!" Jared flushed darker. "Your hand..."

Jensen glanced down and realized he was rubbing circles in the dip of Jared sides, the kid squirming lightly at the ticklish feelings. He smiled fondly at the younger man, ineverdently pressing down a bit harder so he could actually kiss him but Jared turned away again, constant giggles streaming out.

"Ihihi'm sohohorry!" Jared snorted. "I'm juhust really tihicklish."

"Oh really?" Jensen teased, eyes narrowing and fingers wiggling. Jared eyes widened and he tried sitting up.

"Don't you dare touch me, Jen!"

"Imma get you Jared!" Jensen forced his weight over Jared, caging him in. Jared pushed lightly on Jensen's chest, not wanting to hurt the older, extremely attractive man and flinched as the ghosting of fingers tracing his sides made him whimper and struggle harder.

“Don't touch me, I'm ticklish! I'm tihihicklish!” Jared shrieked, trying to squirm away from his older co-star. Jensen ignored the 22 year olds cries and ran his fingers down and around Jared’s tummy, making sure to tickle the skin underneath the belly button. Jared cackled loudly, feet kicking desperately to get away.

"This is so cuuuuute, Jared,” Jensen teased, head leaning down and nuzzling his co-stars neck. Jared snorted, adorable giggles pouring out of him.

“Plehehehease! J-Jehehensen!”


“What?”


“I’m tohoho tihihicklihihish!” Jared squealed at the tiny raspberry placed on his neck.


“I know and I love it!” Jensen smirked, feeling oddly proud at Jarred's blush though that could be from the tickles. Jensen had fallen hard and fast for this one. “Your belly is so sensitive!”


“Dohohohon’t tihihIHIHICKLE MEHEHE! AHAHA JEHEHEN!” Jared screamed, howling laughter pouring from his chest. Jensen continued to blow raspberries right over Jareds belly button, relishing in the panicked hair pulls and adorable laughter.


“You’re so cute!” Jensen whined, placing tiny kisses against his co-stars tummy.


“Ahahaha hehe what-whahat are you dohohoing?” 


Jensen blushed, pulling away and awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, "I-Sorry-I just-it was-”

“It’s okay,” Jared said, sitting up on his elbows. His own cheeks were flushed pink and Jensen’s heart swelled. “I sorta...liked it?”

"Really?" Jensen asked, leaning down and kissing Jared's navel, gently nibbling the rim.

"Y-Yehehes!"

"So you like me playing with you, huh?"

"Ahahaha Jehehen!" Jared squirmed, hiccuping giggles escaping the younger male, elbows slipping so he was firmly beneath Jensen again. Jensen slipped under Jared's shirt and dug the tips of his fingers into Jared's developing abs, chuckling at the sharp squeal.

"Answer the question, Jare! Do you have a crush on me?"

"EHEHEHAHAHA!" Jared cackled when Jensen teased his waist line while also pressing those adorable little kisses on his tummy. Jensen's other hand traced his sides, hitting ever single one of those sensitive spots. He realized Jared's whole torso was one big tickle spot, touch anywhere and you can get him giggling. You just have to keep so how to manipulate the skin to get tech best results.

"Don't make me give you raspberries!"

"YEHEHES!" Jared finally shrieked out, face a dark Ed and tears of mirth welling in his eyes.

"Yes you want the raspberries? Okay!" Jensen leaned down and placed five, one after the other, ignoring Jared's sharp screech off "NONONO WAHAHAHIT AHAHAHAHAAAA!" Jensen's smirk turned soft as he watched how giggly and happy Jared looked.

The kids back arched with every blow, tears streaming down his cheeks and laughter turning hoarse. Whenever Jensen hit a particularly sensitive spot, Jared would give a silent scream until little tickles came back to let him breath and make noise again. Jensen drummed his fingers on Jared's pink tummy, smiling fondly at the worn out young man. Jared tried to glare but couldn't get the helpless smile off his face.

"You okay?"

"Nohoho...."

Jensen chuckled, running a hand through Jared's hair sweetly, "You never answered my question."

"Yes I did," Jared said, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I-I said I do have a crush on you, Jensen. But-But it's okay if you don't feel the same! I would totally get—mffph!"

Jensen interrupted Jared's panicked rambling with a slick kiss to the lips, gently nibbling you younger mans bottom lip and sucking the plump flesh. Jared was still for a couple seconds before responding gently, one hand cradling Jensen's face like he was something precious (and to Jared he was). They both pulled apart and blinked away the small haze, dopey smiles mirroring on each other's faces. Jensen pecked Jared's lips again, a mischievous expression spreading.

"So...where else are you ticklish, babe?"

"Wh-Wait! Wait! JehEHEHENSEN!"

~Fin~

[my-dear-hammy]

The Ship Wars

Masterpost

Chapter Eighteen: Moving Forward

----

AN

Who has been enjoying the cuteness between one James Madison and one Francis Kinloch?

Cool. Let's fuck it up.

Number one difference when writing Kinloch and Madison. You get to see Kinloch's thoughts. Madison's you kinda have to piece to together...which can sometimes be difficult since he never seems to let on to anything. Dammit Madison.

----

Warnings: I don't know how to warn for this chapter. Bad shit. We've got all sorts of stuff. Um, kinda sorta accidental but mostly intentional self-harm involving glass. Mentions of blood. Emotions. Skinning animals.

----

Several days had passed. Days in which Jefferson did not enjoy. He was confined to his quarters, not because he was locked in but because he couldn't exactly walk. Ain't that a bitch. He demanded a peg leg, something, anything so he could at least be mobile. The doctor said no. His leg hadn't healed enough.

Healed? Healed? Really? His leg was never going to heal. It was never going to be whole again. He was never going to be whole again. Jefferson was a fucking cripple and he hated it. How was he supposed to do his job if he could walk? If he couldn't fight?

He wouldn't. André would retire him, thank him for his service, maybe pin a medal on him before sending him on his way, letting him either stumble home or into a tavern.

So, after lying there motionless for a while, pitying himself, oh woe unto him, he decided to actually do something about it.

So now he sat at a desk, quill in hand, tracing across sheets of parchment. Most of the time, he'd ball it up impatiently and a toss it across the room, quill already moving again before it hit the floor. People brought him food every now and then, which was a fantastic thing since it kept him alive. All the movement he typically did was moving from his desk to his bed to sleep and back again. Each time it hurt like a motherfucker. Don't get your leg shot off by a cannon ball and then shredded by wood kids. Highly unrecommended.

Burr came to check on him once the entire trip. Just once. He came into the room and studied Jefferson's documents. "Interesting work," he commented.

"I have no intention of retiring."

"Didn't think you would."

Jefferson turned to face him. "What do you mean you didn't think I would? People are retired for less."

"You have a strong constitution. I knew you'd survive the removal of your leg and I also know you aren't going to give up so easily." Burr nodded toward the papers, "And it seems I'm right."

"You should start sending some alcohol in as well," Jefferson said simply, clearing not caring for Burr's conversation.

Burr tapped a specific spot on Jefferson's work. "Shift that two degrees. We're pulling into the New York Harbor so make yourself presentable. André is waiting for us." Then he left and closed the door behind him. Jefferson grumbled before setting about doing just that, slowly, taking care not to make his leg start bleeding again. Burr came back right as Jefferson shrugged on his red uniform coat and tossed him something.

"What's this?" he asked, catching it out of the air, knowing exactly what it was.

"A cane. Let's go."

You know what's absolutely delightful? Fresh air. Even if it's the acrid stench of dead fish. Burr crinkled his nose in distaste as Jefferson breathed it deeply, he'd been cooped up for far too long.

***

The past several days passed rather uneventfully. Madison and Kinloch nailed down a routine that seemed to work rather well. During that time, Madison discovered several things about Kinloch he never knew. For one, the man hated pretty much every type of food the island had to offer. Don't even try to get him to drink coconut milk. Not happening.

They moved camp to the better area Kinloch found nearby the river. Each day that passed, Madison got more efficient with setting his snares and trapping fish. He hadn't finished crafting a fishing raft but he had made lots of other useful things. They were actually getting close to well set off.

Madison slung his makeshift met over his shoulder, getting ready to set off to find more food, just as he always did in the morning. "Same menu as yesterday?" Kinloch asked.

"Pretty much. I'll try and get more game so you don't have to force down more fish. There's not that much in the way of options here though."

Kinloch snorted, "That's for sure. I would kill for some pasta right now."

"How about coconuts instead?"

"God, I hate coconuts but at this point, I'll take them. I saw a few trees by the shore. I can climb, but I can't hunt like you do, so I'll get you coconuts and you bring back some poor victims fated to be our next meal?"

"Is there any natural island food that you do like?" Madison laughed, scooping up his spear.

"Honestly, I doubt it," Kinloch chuckled. "There's no butter or sugar in this hellhole. I would be grateful if you got me a snake though. Been wondering what those taste like."

"If I find and catch you a snake, what would I get in return?" Madison smirked, stuffing the meat he had cut up for bait into his net/bag thing.

"How can I offer you anything when you don't know what you want?" Kinloch asked, raising an eyebrow.

The bastard. Madison tucked away a couple more items before stripping off his shirt, feeling the familiar weight of his pendant bounce against his chest, and using it to bundle up some tools, tucking them under his arm. "Fair enough, I'll go get some food then."

"Mmm. Meet you back here in a few hours or so? I'll try to find some berries that aren't poisonous," Kinloch said, studying Madison's pendant. He's noticed it before but had never given it much thought, they were always busy doing something else. Like swimming through an ocean for instance. Why did Madison still have that anyway? It seemed like one of the first things Madison would've dismantled and turned into some sort of tool to help in their survival. Kinloch filed it away for later.

"Why do I feel like you wouldn't know the difference?" Madison asked.

"Because I wouldn't," Kinlock grinned. Plants all looked the same to him.

"That's reassuring. Right. Well, stick to the sunset rule we've been using. If the sun sets and I'm not back, you can start claiming dibs on all my belongings," Madison said starting off into the forest.

"Same here. You can feast on my remains. The common consensus is that my dick tastes wonderful, so save that for last."

"I'll keep that in mind," Madison called back. Kinloch chuckled to himself before starting off toward the beach. Hunting was easier now that Madison had some stuff to work with. He set several snares and placed his traps in the water. The sea was calm and peaceful looking. A truly nice day.

Kinloch was climbing trees to get a few coconuts. Now, when he said few, he really meant getting a little obsessed with gathering as many as he possibly could. Around twenty or so, he decided to bring a large palm leaf to help carry them back to camp, piling them up carefully. He could come back for the fruits in a while.

The day was going by quickly, as it usually did with hard work. Madison found himself focused on catching wild game. He was crouching in a tree, watching a small animal wander closer. Now if he could just-he reached forward to swing himself down on the animal except the entire branch slipped and came down with him, sending him crashing to the ground and animal scampering away.

It wasn't a branch.

Kinloch left the coconuts at camp before beginning to search the forest for fruits and berries. Anything he can find, he picks, nothing looking familiar until he found wild strawberries, he'd recognize those anywhere, and stuffed a few in his face. A little bitter but so much better than everything else on this cursed island. He picked a bunch of them, leaving some to pick later and stay fresh, and placed them with all the other unfamiliar fruits. There's a chance Madison might be able to identify and few of them. Foraging was harder than it looked. It was starting to approach the end of the day so he started back to camp.

Madison, however, was cursing colorfully. Sunset was fast approaching. There was no way he was going to make it back to camp on time with all the stuff he had to carry and a twisted ankle. There had to be a faster way. Even if he was injured. He stopped and tried repositioning his items, leaning on his spear for support. If he could just go a little faster, better yet, if only he hadn't injured himself.

The sky grew steadily darker and Kinloch waited at camp, beginning to get hungry, so, like a smart person, he took a bite of one of the other fruits he found. I was bitter and tasted god awful, not to mention it made him throw up. Poisonous then. Setting those ones aside, he washed out his mouth. Maybe if he went through every fruit like that, he could use the first one to purge if it seemed poisonous.

His rational brain clicked after the thought, telling him to shut up and that it was a stupid idea. The sun was setting and Madison was nowhere to be seen. Surely, he was okay, the sun wasn't fully set yet, there was some time. That didn't prevent the growing unease in his chest as he watched the sun sink lower. Kinloch let out a few curses when it finally dipped below the horizon. "Madison!" he yelled, hoping that Madison was nearby and could hear. Maybe he was dying. Maybe Madison was already dead. Kinloch couldn't stand the thought. Madison was so small, if Kinloch could find him, he could easily carry the small man back. Kinloch just needed to find him but he didn't even know where to start. "Madison! Where are you?"

"Did you claim all my fish yet?" Madison asked, limping into camp, sweating heavily and breathing hard. He may have pushed himself a little too hard. His chest was itching. It had been itching ever since the bad attack he had in the ocean since he hasn't exactly allowed himself the rest he needed to fully recover. It had been small enough to ignore, but that reminded him of his weak condition. He hated it but was too exhausted to actually care. He dropped the sack he'd been dragging in clear view, "I got you your fucking snake," he said, giving the large python a slight kick before sinking to the ground and leaning against the base of a tree, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Kinloch ignored the snake for now in favor of examining Madison, noticing how he was limping. "Your ankle-"

Madison stretched out his leg tenderly, wincing slightly. "Yeah, don't worry, it's not broken, just twisted."

Madison learned something that day. Kinloch was one to make a huge fuss out of injuries. "Okay, well, I'll find something to wrap it in and then you're going to prop it up so that the swelling reduces. Going to get you a pair of crutches too."

Madison was appalled. Crutches? Nope. Not happening. "I think crutches are a bit much. It's not that bad," Madison insisted, massaging his ankle.

"You don't want to make it worse. If you're going to keep going out into the forest, then you need crutches. Nondebatable. I won't force you to have them around camp." Kinloch found a log and rolled it over to Madison. He did not like his friends getting injured, Kinloch was honestly very ill suited for life as a pirate or in the navy or really anything that meant his friends getting hurt or killed. "Rest your foot on top of that and lie down."

Madison studied Kinloch. Did he actually care? Was that real or was that Kinloch's own survival depending on Madison's. Madison knew he was keeping himself closed off, knew exactly what would happen if he opened up. His hand subconsciously to his pendant. He didn't think he could handle that type of pain again. But instead of his usual witty remark, Madison found himself saying, "Thank you, Kinloch," and propping his leg onto the log, leaning back into the tree.

"In return for the snake, of course," Kinloch joked, grinning. Who was he kidding, he probably would've done the same thing, snake or no snake. He honestly cared for Madison. Kinloch retrieved the palm leaf he had been using earlier and wrapped it around Madison's ankle, securing it tightly. Hopefully, that would help. If only he had some real medicinal tools.

Madison studied him, "You keep taking care of me," he stated. For once in his life, Madison didn't mind all that much. In the past few days, Madison had found he had taken a liking to him.

No. Madison couldn't-wouldn't let that happen. Shove it down along with everything else. Feel that pain? That deep cold pain that freezes you from the inside out? Hold on to it. Never let go. It's what keeps you sane.

Still, he felt like Kinloch's warmth was thawing him no matter how much of a fight he put against it.

Kinloch hummed in agreement to Madison's statement, massaging around the ankle to help stop the swelling. Madison closed his eyes, dropping his head back against the tree and letting out a small groan as Kinloch worked his tender ankle. He never liked being taken care of, it was always an insecurity of his, but damn, Kinloch's fingers knew how to massage a twisted ankle.

Kinloch chuckled, watching Madison out of his peripheral vision, continuing with the massaging. "Don't worry, nobody has to know," he said, smiling warmly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Madison muttered.

"Exactly, because this never happened," Kinloch said, moving his fingers a little to work a new spot. "Massaging feet sounds like an euphemism." Madison hummed slightly in response, head back against the tree, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the pain slowly melt away to care. Kinloch smiled at Madison's expression, continuing his work. "Anywhere else that needs massaging?"

"Mmm, my back s'got some knots," Madison mumbled. Wait, did he really just say that?

Kinloch rolled his eyes, "I meant on your foot but I can take care of those knots for you," he said, letting go of Madison's ankle and moving to work his back instead. Madison sure as hell didn't expect Kinloch to go through with it and he wasn't going to stop him either. Madison shifted, lying down on the ground so Kinloch could reach since he had been leaning against the tree. He tensed when Kinloch sat down on top of him, straddling him so that is was easier to reach his back. "Relax," Kinloch murmured as he began to massage down Madison's spine, kneading the muscles well.

Madison forced himself to relax and after a minute or so, Madison mumbled, "Falling out of that tree and lugging that snake back was definitely worth it."

"Why is that, darlin'?" Kinloch teased, drawling out the words, his Southerner descent making itself more present, as he continued.

"I didn't know you were so good with your hands."

"My hands are very skilled at massaging other areas as well."

"I believe you."

"I should be glad you didn't ask me to prove it," Kinloch said, finishing up with Madison's back and climbing off, walking toward the snake. "How're we supposed to cook snake?"

"Didn't want to follow through?" Madison asked, pushing himself off the ground to his feet so he could walk over to the snake. "Well, first you remove the head and skin it. Have you ever cooked anything?" Madison asked with a slight smirk.

"Are you asking me to follow through?" Kinloch smirked at Madison. "Nope. Never cooked anything that wasn't really easy. My boyfriends usually do it for me."

Madison sat down next to the snake and pulled the head in front of him. "Spoiled. How would you survive if I didn't know how to cook?" Madison smirked. "Will you get my shirt? I left it over there, my makeshift knife is wrapped up in it."

"Just because I don't cook for people doesn't mean I don't service them in other ways," Kinloch said, getting Madison his shirt and handing it to him. "Besides, I but bread and butter from the store. I did not anticipate getting stuck on an island."

"No one ever does. Come on, I'll show you how to skin a snake," Madison said, severing the head.

"At what point did you learn to skin a snake?" Kinloch asked, watching Madison.

He chuckled, "It is a bit of a random thing to know, isn't it? Honestly, it's a lot like skinning any other animal but I first came across it while reading random books in Jefferson's library." He cut a slit in the underside of the snake's throat. Kinloch watched him, nodding in acknowledgment. "Here, you can do this part. Grab right here and pull the skin toward the tail until it's all the way off. Then we can gut and roast it. Yum."

Kinlock chuckled, taking the snake and skinning it the way Madison had instructed and handed it back right after. "We should save the snakeskin!"

"It's all yours." Madison finished up and put it over the fire. "Now we wait," he said, sitting back.

"Thanks for getting it. I appreciate it."

"I thought it was a branch."

"Ouch." Kinloch winced.

"Yeah." Madison poked it with a stick, shifting it around to cook better. "Still worth it in the end."

"So you said," Kinloch chuckled, watching Madison cook.

"It there's not one damn thing on this island that you like to eat, Kinloch, I swear to God."

"There's always a chance I'll like it. I can't wait to go back to Switzerland and ask for snake. Imagine the horror."

"It'd be like me going to Russia and demanding coconuts," Madison and Kinloch both chuckled, as Madison poked at the snake again. Kinloch leaned back and looked up at the trees. "You, know," Madison began, "We're pretty well stocked on food. We could just take the day off and relax."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea but there's barely anything fun to do," Kinloch pointed out. "I'm going to get bored in a few minutes."

"I'm sure we can think of something."

"Fine, it's a relaxation day. Well, evening, I guess."

"And if not, I'll awe you with my amazing basket weaving skills. And by amazing, I mean shit poor."

"Mine are horrible as well, but I guess we can try to figure out a way to do it better. There are palm leaves by the beach."

"Right. Perhaps after I finish this bottle."

Kinloch reached back for a bottle for himself, taking a few swigs. "And after I eat some snake."

"It should be done by now if you want to pull it off. Try not to burn yourself."

"The chance of my burning myself is very high," Kinloch said, reaching forward and managing to get the snake off without burning himself. He cut some off for himself and let it cool before taking a bite, grimacing a little but nodding. "Not too bad."

"Dear God, you're the pickiest eater I've ever met."

Kinloch shrugged, taking a few more bites. "Most people don't know that since I always pretend to like everyone's food even when it really hate it. But I figured, empty island, what image do I have to uphold here?"

Madison dished himself up his own serving of roasted snake and swallowed down a few bits. In his opinion, it was rather good. "Well, now I've accidentally made it my personal mission to something you like to eat."

"Laurens' ass," Kinloch answered, stretching out a little and finishing up his portion.

"Ha ha," Madison said dryly, biting down on another piece of snake. "If only Laurens felt the same way."

Kinloch's smile instantly evaporated. "That was uncalled for," he snapped, standing up. "I'm going to go enjoy my evening of relaxation, Madison."

For once in his life, Madison actually regretted his word. He sighed. Yeah, that was too far. Madison tossed the rest of his food down, trying not to let himself realize just how little he had. Too far. Goddamnit. He wasn't one to slip up on something like that.

Kinloch, of course, stormed off into the forest, finding a random tree and climbing it in the dark like a smart person, wanting to get away from everything. He sighed, leaning against the rough tree trunk. He was stupid for not bringing anything to defend himself but he didn't care right now. He was being an emotional idiot. Kinloch was just angry and this is how it showed.

Madison, on the other hand, realized Kinloch needed some time to sort things out. Needed some space. And it's not like Madison could keep up with Kinloch's long strides in his current condition. He would give Kinloch the night and if he didn't return by sunset, well, he'd stick to the sunset rule. Madison had a very different form of venting anger than Kinloch.

God, why was he so stupid sometimes? He knew Laurens was a topic he should never bring up to Kinloch like that. Stupid. He gripped his shard of glass tightly and swung his hand back, slamming the glass into a tree. When he released the shard, it was buried deep in the wood and his hand was dripping crimson. Whoops. Madison found he didn't really care all that much about his hand.

Kinloch climbed back down after a while, letting out a sigh. He was finished with all the rum he had on him; there was no point of staying up there and moping. It was already dark and he didn't have any fire or shelter. He had a better chance of surviving if he was back at camp in their shelter but right now, it didn't matter. Kinloch didn't care. Another new lean-to would do just fine. It was small but worked just fine. He crawled underneath, not even bothering with a fire, not managing sleep for a long while before he eventually drifted off.

---

So-

Jefferson is in New York and has some plan he's up to and the Madloch ship is on fire and sinking fast. Fun.

[sith-shame-shack]

Three sentence fic: something inspired by that Sith!Luke and Vader in a bacta tank art you reblogged earlier?

(This is the art, by @3bsambi)

Good news: I did fill the prompt. 

Bad news: It is not 3 sentences long, and I can’t tell if it makes any sense because I wrote it all at once in a fit of hyperfocus at work, drove home, edited it once, and am now posting it. I have not slept more than 4 hours a night all week. I have a splitting headache. I think I’m a little high. can’t tell if this is bad or good.

Different news: It is 26 paragraphs long. Read the author’s note at the bottom for some explanation re: this AU I just made up. 

Luke didn’t remember precisely when he began to sense his father’s pain; if there had been anyone to ask about it, he might have said that he’d noticed just after he’d turned eight, scant weeks after Vader had retrieved him from that Force-forsaken Outer Rim dustball. Vader seldom accepted any comfort he tried to offer, and by the time he was an adult, it had long since become a kind of background noise.

Now, jolting out of a dead sleep, something in him rang out in alarm. He was on his feet, sliding into an effortless Makashi stance before he could process the fact that he was alone. His bedroom was dark and silent, save for the muffled, ever-present sound of Coruscant traffic passing by outside the high slits of the reinforced windows. He sensed no other presence in the apartment, save his father’s.

Perturbed, Luke lowered his unlit saber and sat on the bed, carding a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. Downstairs, the garrison’s night shift went about their duties, minds sedate with routine and maybe a little boredom. It was barely half a thought to cast his awareness to the newly-appointed Chancellor Leia Organa, lightyears away in the palace at Alderaa— surprised, he withdrew at the startled little jolt the light attention elicited. But the ongoing mystery of Leia’s uncanny perception would have to remain unanswered for now.

Vader was still awake, though that wasn’t unusual, especially lately. Luke had been pretending not to notice how poorly he’d been sleeping since the final confrontation with Sidious, grateful that he had at least stopped his old habit of pacing. Father? he called, fighting down the cold kernel of fear that bloomed in his chest at the long silence that followed.

Go back to sleep, Luke. Vader was shielding, strongly, but his mental voice seemed somehow pallid and strained.

Luke took a breath and rose, pausing to stow his lightsaber and clip on his wristcomm before padding across the bare floor and stepping out into the cool hallway. I’m coming in, he answered, entering the opposing door and making his way across the dark study by memory, mind staunchly closed against any objection his father might attempt.

“Your insolence grows tiresome,” Vader rasped from the pitch black of the chamber, the desperate whistle of stridor faintly audible beneath his ruined voice.

“I’m turning on the light,” he warned, as the door shushed closed behind him and the atmospheric controls cycled on to restore the special atmosphere of the chamber.

Vader flinched from the sterile white glare, then blinked dully up from where he was reclined in the padded chair that served him as a bed. He was unmasked and stripped of his armor, ashen as a corpse beneath his scars, and beginning to go faintly blue around the mouth. Luke felt the fear sink claws into his heart, cold points of dread.

Raising his comm, he keyed open the channel for the installation’s medicenter. “Prepare a bacta tank for Lord Vader, please,” he commanded, meeting Vader’s gaze levelly. He barely heard the answering droid’s swift affirmative, and terminated the call.  

“You’ve needed one for months,” he preempted, as the Sith lord dragged in a breath to deliver what was undoubtedly an outraged reprimand. “Where’s Too-Wonbee?”

Vader seemed about to snarl out some new rebuke when he stiffened, face frozen in a strained rictus, gloved hands curling into claws. Luke was at his side in an instant, kneeling to grasp a hand in his own and scrambling to find a pulse in his brachial artery with the other. It was present, but thready, and when Luke went to push a measure of strength across their bond, Vader’s shields dissolved and he felt his father’s agony.

Please, please, Luke begged out into the Force, forcing healing energy past the tattered barriers of Vader’s defenses, rubbing his still chest briskly, avoiding the interface interface sunk below his clavicles. Please I don’t have anybody else, I can’t be alone, I can't—

Finally, Vader took a shuddering breath, and the tension ran out of him, leaving only weak tremors in its wake. Luke blinked back relieved tears and moved to perch at the edge of the chair, pulling his father into a desperate embrace, resting his cheek against the bare scalp. His skin was cold. For a long moment neither of them spoke.

“You ought not waste your strength on me, young one,” Vader said finally, when his breathing had eased enough for him to speak.

Luke barked out a watery laugh. “You’re my father, it’s not a waste. Is this because of the Force lightning?”

Vader didn’t answer, which Luke took as a yes. Luke drew away and eased him back against the chair, took one artificial hand. He looked exhausted; Luke was sure the only thing keeping his head from lolling back bonelessly was the cervical brace he wore to protect his damaged spine. “Have you had attacks like that before?”

“They pass in time,” he answered, eyes sliding from Luke’s face to drift idly around the room.

“It’s been five months, father. I was fine after a week and some bacta.”

“You are young, and suffered only a single exposure.”

Luke had thought that the burning loathing he had for Palpatine would have gone out with the old lich’s death, but he understood now that this kind of hate was eternal. The little flares that lit occasionally behind his breastbone had nearly stopped surprising him now. “Yes, and I had bacta. ”

“I will not leave you unguarded in this nest of vipers,” he began, the familiar diatribe somewhat less impressive punctuated by ragged gasps. “The senate would gladly pay for a return to their unaccountable frivolity in your blood. The heretical inquisitors hunt you even now. The Council will take you from me—”

“Father,” he interrupted gently, desperate to stop the unhinged monologue before it spiraled out into another attack, not sure if the fear squeezing his chest was his own or Vader’s. “You can’t protect me like this. ”

He felt a twinge of guilt at the way his words seemed to strike his father like a blow. They were both silent for a moment, until Luke’s wrist unit chirped with a message. “The bacta’s ready,” he reported. “Too-Wonbee’s coming down to start the IV.”

Vader shuddered, wracking and pained, and closed  his eyes. "As you wish.”

“I—” he tried, and stopped. I’m sorry. I’m sorry but you can’t take care of yourself sometimes and I can’t lose you— “I’ll stay with you. Try to rest.”

AN: whew, ok. Super-short version of the universe this takes place in: Luke was discovered by Vader as a child, and raised sort-of-not-really “as a Sith.” (Beru, Owen, and Obi-wan are all super dead.) When Luke was like 20, he and Vader deposed Palpatine (Vader cut off his head). Luke is kinda-sorta the Emperor stand-in, but much of the real power is in the hands of a pro-Republic bloc of senators, whose poster child is Leia Organa, recently elected Supreme Chancellor of the newly-reassembled Senate. Alderaan still exists, but Bail was executed when Leia was a teen. She and Luke have to work together for political stuff, and they have a weirdly easy, weirdly close relationship, despite the fact that they both went into it expecting to be adversarial. 

I don’t think Luke is really a Sith here, but he’s got some Dark Side experience, and he’s not the Luke of canon. I don’t think that being raised knowing Dark Sider theology or concepts is actually enough to use it, though, I think you actually have to have some vulnerability, some chink in the emotional armor. In the films, I think that vulnerability is depicted for Luke as righteous anger; first righteous anger for his supposedly-murdered father, which invests him in Obi-wan and Yoda’s plans for him (and results in failing the trial in the Dark Side cave), and then righteous anger at the prospect of Sidious turning Leia. But both of those things are grounded in loss; anger and sorrow over the loss of his father, and fear at the prospect of losing Leia. So I thought that maybe fear of loss would be it. 

[hazandholland]

Prompt #42 “Sometimes, You Fall for Someone You Didn’t Expect but that Doesn’t Make it Wrong” PART 2

Written by Danielle

Word Count: 1504

A/N: Our most liked fic EVER is a lovely one Christina did a little bit ago and a lot of people really wanted a part two so... here it is!!! Although Christina wrote the first part, I really tried to capture the characters and keep cute moments from her writing to really tie this part two in with the first one. I am really nervous, but I hope you guys still like it! Christina and I both agreed that we’re not as good with coming up with more parts to a fic, but this one was highly requested. We would love to know what you think and requests are still open :) Love you guys! 

Originally loosely based off of prompt #42 from this list

Requested by: anonymous, @princeofsassgard , @tmrhollandkay , @lacklusterleah , @twilight-loveer , and @psychh-ic 

Read Part 1 here

There he was. You couldn't help but smile as you entered the library and spotted Peter in his blissful state while studying. He was the only one you ever saw do so. He had a massive textbook out with papers sprawled like always. As he’s writing you walk towards him making sure he doesn’t see you (which isn’t too difficult since he tends to get really focused in his work). You stand behind him with your test paper in hand. You had gotten a B+ and couldn’t wait to show Peter your improvement. You wrap your arms around Peter, putting your paper in front of his face which confuses him for a moment. He smiles when he realizes it’s you and you both look at each other.

“I actually did it..” you whisper in Peter’s ear, still in awe of how well you did. You couldn’t be happier.

“I knew you could do it (Y/N),” Peter says putting his hand on your arm with an even bigger smile.

“And I knew that you could finally be startled by me without flinging your papers everywhere.” You tell Peter with a smirk as you sit down next to him and it makes him blush which always leads to you giggling. How you loved making him blush.

For the past few weeks, you and Peter had gotten into a studying routine and you actually looked forward to your study sessions. (You never thought that could happen.) You found out that Peter was a really cool guy besides being a nerd. You were a nerd too, but unlike Peter’s passion for math and science, you were into books. Peter still enjoyed books too and you loved discussing with him.

Still sitting next to Peter, with your backpack on because you had something else in mind you manage to have the courage to ask him something.

“Hey, Pete..?

“Hmm?” He says looking up at his work looking completely content.

“How about we go do something? Take a break? We always study- how about we do something fun?”

“Hey, studying is fun!” Peter half jokes and you both laugh.

“Come on I want to show you something!”

“The pancakes here are amazing!” you tell Peter as the two of you sit across each other in a booth. You brought Peter to your favorite diner and were actually surprised you hadn’t brought him here before.

“What if I don’t like pancakes?” He says teasing you which makes you giggle and then you do a fake gasp.

“Only monsters don’t like pancakes!” you respond jokingly.

“Well, maybe I am a monster.” Peter’s tone becomes slightly serious and you wonder what’s going through his mind.

A waiter ends up taking your order, you got the pancakes and Peter ordered waffles just to bother you.The rest of your meal goes great. The two of you talk about everything from your families to books, and even totally random things like the false knowledge of a spider being an insect and a tomato being a vegetable. You and Peter could talk about literally anything and you always make each other laugh.

When you two are finished with your food Peter asks if he could now show you something.

“Wait really?” You couldn’t tell if Peter was serious; he had actually shocked you a little. This boy always had something new that surprised you and you honestly loved that. He was an endless mystery that you never wanted to stop solving.

“Y-yeah. You showed me something special to you, and now I want to show you something special to me…” Peter is looking down at his hands while he talks. He seems nervous but you have no idea why. Seeing a hint of pink on his cheeks you giggle.

“I’d love to,” you say not taking your eyes away from him. His head snaps up to look at you and he smiles as soon as you guys lock eyes.

“Peter I’ve seen this bridge a million times!” When you left the diner, Peter had grabbed a taxi for the both of you and you were on one of the many streets/bridges with a view of the famous Manhattan bridge. Peter tears his gaze away from the bridge to look at you. You try to not look at him, but you can feel his eyes on your face and you give in. When you look at him you see a smirk growing on his face.

“Want to get a closer look?” “Wha-” before you can answer he interrupts you. “Close your eyes.” you hesitate because you’ve never seen Peter like this before. You do as you're told and before you can think of anything else you feel a huge rush. Your hair flies everywhere and your skin gets goosebumps from what feels like wind, except it’s way faster than any wind you’ve ever felt. Simultaneously, your stomach gets that feeling when you go up and down in an elevator, only it’s magnified. All of the sensations go by so quickly, and before you know it, you’re still again. Scared to open your eyes, Peter speaks before you do so.

You open your eyes looking up to see Peter. You hadn’t realized how tight you were holding on to Peter so you loosen your grip, which only worries Peter and he grabs a hold of you again.

“Careful-” He says to you, but you don’t understand why as your mind is racing a million miles a minute. You’re speechless.

“I hope you’re not afraid of heights..” Peter says smiling as he notices you’re okay. This only confuses you more though and you look down to try and figure out what he means. As soon as you look, a scream escapes your throat and you grab onto Peter with an even stronger grasp than earlier.

“What the…” is all you manage to gasp out and this time Peter giggles at you.

“Peter Parker you literally took my breath away!” and this causes Peter to throw his head back and break out into a loud laughter. While looking up at him you can’t help but smile, you were the one that brought that smile and laugh to Peter’s face and you loved it. When Peter stops laughing he looks down to you and his eyes light up as his face seems to get more serious.

“(Y/N), do you remember what book you had when you scared me on our first study date?”

You try to ignore the fact that Peter used the word date, but your heart races a million miles a minute.

“Y-yeah..” you whisper to him.

“W-well… the lightning inside of you kinda...um- you, uh you brought me to life (Y/N)”. A tear leaves your eye, falling down your cheek and Peter wipes it away with his thumb. Staring at his rich brown eyes, he leans towards you with his hands on your cheeks. You close your eyes as Peter puts a soft kiss on your lips.

After a blissful moment, you pull away from Peter still hazy, but with a dying question.

“Peter, how did we get up here?” Peter’s eyes widened as he looks away from you, blowing a breath through his lips, his cheeks gain that rosy red you love. You giggle as he figures out what to say.

“W-well, I uh, well, um uh…” Peter stutters, being adorable as always. You felt a large smile pull at your lips and you couldn’t help but kiss him again. You feel him smile as you kiss, right before he breaks the kiss with his voice.

“Spider-Man.” You furrow your brow as you can’t actually believe what Peter just said.

“Peter what does Spider-Man have to do with this?”

“I uh, w-w-well I’m um. I’m sorta...” Peter stammers again, this time burying a hand in his thick brown locks.

“Spit it out, Pete.”

“I’m Spider-Man,” he says almost too quickly. Your mind floods with all of your memories of Spider-Man. Connecting your memories to Peter, you can’t believe he is the Spider-Man.

“No way…” you say almost too quietly for anyone to hear. Peter heard you of course and you see a great look of sadness flood through his face. He looks down, fearful of what you might think of him. Looking at his face, you notice scars you never had a second thought of, and as his hair falls down over his face you can’t help but think of how big this boy's heart is. Your heart is so happy that Peter feels comfortable enough to share such a big part of him with you. You would do anything to help this boy; to make him happy.

“Can I get your autograph?” You ask him with a sly grin and Peter’s head snaps up. A smile appears on his face when he realizes you're okay enough to joke with him like everything is still normal. Even though he is the great Spider-Man you can still joke with him like he is just your Peter Parker.

Tag List:

@allineedisconnor @resident-book-nerd @j-a-z-z-y-b-r-i @agentcarter24601 @animeroses318 @unicornspiderman @bedemoned @hobbitsofmyheart @just---love @superfrankie111 @laura2280 @tmrhollandkay @princeofsassgard @timeandspace2002 @themortallife @143amberrose @silverelvenart @kaitlanfaucher13 @notevenagoodgirl  @ izthecannibal

[sugarypixel]

answered 100 random questions because i just felt like ranting i guess.

1.  if you could pierce somewhere other than your ears, where would it be? I always thought eyebrow piercings were cool.

2. if you could be in a movie franchise (already made or a book that should be made into a movie), which would it be? Does Pokemon count? Because Pokemon.

3. what are your feelings on bangs? Bro I absolutely adore bangs, they are so cute.

4. what is your favorite blanket material? Anything super plush and soft.

5. who is the last person you were mad at? My parents.

6. if you had to be sent up into space or into the depths of the ocean, where would you choose? Spaaaaaace.

7. if you acquired an island, what would you name it? I already have an island and its name is Sugarpeach.

8. are you afraid of death? why or why not? Of course I am, I don’t want to die because I don’t know what’s waiting on the other side and because there are way too many things I want to do before then.

9. what astrological sign do you think you should be? Uhh I’m pretty sure I’m an accurate Sagittarius. Even the symbol speaks to me.

10. who is the worst person you have ever dated? I’ve never dated anyone because I have a hard time feeling romantic attraction to anyone.

11. if you could remake one movie the way you think it should’ve been made, which movie would you choose? Omg easiest question ever, Avengers Endgame.

12. if you had to be a teletubby, which one would you be? Bro Po all the way.

13. what are your feelings on caillou? Caillou is a good boi.

14. what is a custom/activity/experience/etc from another culture that you wish would be in your culture? Living with your family till you get married and it being seen as normal.

15. if you could choose where you were born, where would you want it to be? I guess anywhere that’s not the US cuz it seriously sucks here.

16. if someone told you they could tell you the truth about god/religion/higher powers/the universe/the meaning of life/what happens after death, would you want to know? YES.

17. what is your favorite part of your nighttime routine? sleep doesn’t count. Snuggling up and getting all cozy and warm.

18. what is your favorite form of exercise? I like swimming. Dancing is fun too.

19. what is one current trend that you hate? Conservatives refusing to wear masks and pretending like the virus is over just because they want it to be.

20. what is a trend that died that you would bring back? Can we please just bring back Vine?

21. what era of fashion do you wish to bring back? Absolutely the medieval era. I want people to wear full armor, capes, long hooded robes, flowing gowns, and the like again.

22. what is one movie or tv show that everyone loves that you hate? Uhhh basically any of those adult swim cartoons that use puppet animation. The humor is often racist/homophobic/sexist/etc. and the animation/art style looks ugly and uninspiring.

23. what is a question you have always wanted to ask but haven’t? why haven’t you asked it? I guess I want to ask my parents why they focus so much on the homosexuals being a “sin” and not all of the other way worse sins. I haven’t asked it because I’m afraid of getting disowned by them if they realized I was gay.

24. did you have a teacher growing up that helped you through a difficult time? who were they? Uhhh not really? But I really loved my 7th grade science teacher, he was fun. I can’t really think of any hard times I’ve had to go through but I think my first math help teacher in high school was really kind and caring.

25. think of a paper you have written sometime in your education. what was the topic? I once wrote about the over-sexualization of women in media in my junior year.

26. do you believe in universal healthcare? discuss. Of course I do, it just seems like a no brainer to want to help other people via taxes/socialism. Idk why some people act like it’s the worst possible thing that could happen. Like, capitalism already exists bro.

27. what is one song that makes you feel like love is real? It’s not a romantic type of love but Song of Hope by Crush 40 was written for Japan after their horrific tsunami. It feels like a very loving song and makes me believe that some people truly do care. Buuut romantic wise, Guide You Home from Spyro DotD sounds pretty romantic to me. And for familial love, I Want to Know from Kill la Kill sounds quite loving and precious.

28. what is one song that makes you feel like you’re dancing in a meadow with the sun shining on your skin? THE HILLS ARE ALIIIIIIIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUUUUSIIIIIIC~ (literally what other song could you possibly think of when asked this question)

29. what is one song that makes you believe that things will get better? Uhhh first song that came to mind was News 39 by MitchieM (or Hatsune Miku), it basically just talks about happy things in the news as opposed to all the depressing stuff we’ve been seeing lately.

30. have you met any celebrities? if so, who? All the celebs I’ve met have been from cons, there’s quite a lot but the ones most important to me would be: Masakazu Morita (JP voice of Ichigo from Bleach and Barnaby from Tiger&Bunny), basically the most influential VA of my life Johnny Yong Bosh (ENG voice of Ichigo from Bleach), Dante Basco (Zuko from Avatar), Janet Varney (Korra from Avatar), Anthony Mackie (Falcon from Avengers), and my main female celeb crush Lana Parrilla (Regina from OUAT). Also do music artists at their concerts count? Because deadass Mystery Skulls.

31. you’re being forced to move out of your country. you must choose another one to move to, and you may never leave it, even for vacation. what country do you choose? bonus points if you answer the city. Anywhere where there’s a competent leader that’s not a rapist, decent laws (like the freedom to marry regardless of gender, a ban on guns, etc.), free healthcare/college, and maybe doesn’t have a history of genocide? Does a place like this exist? Because I will move there.

32. do you believe in the death penalty? discuss. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmaybe if there’s significant evidence that they purposefully and gladly murdered many innocent people and show no remorse whatsoever??

33. what do you think happens after you die? Bro I got no clue. But I had an interesting thought once that maybe when you die, you actually wake up and continue your life like normal, just not on the same plane of existence as Earth is, but it seems so real that you don’t even notice it.

34. name someone you love. My best friend.

35. name someone you like, but don’t necessarily love. Uhhh my former project coordinator at work?

36. how many soulmates do you think a person has? Probably an infinite amount lol.

37. what would you say was your sexual awakening? Finding hentai on the internet when I was in like 4th grade lol. But if you’re talking about my sexual orientation, I sorta first realized that gay/lesbian couples were a thing in 7th grade. Then in high school I realized I was pan and demi-romantic. That was when it made so much sense that I loved courting all the beautiful ladies in Harvest Moon A Wonderful Life when I was young dhjsskjssjsjsjs.

38. is love always worth it? discuss. This is pretty vague but yeah I’d like to think so. Sometimes people will betray you anyway though so it’s best to be picky about who you open up your heart to.

39. pick up your phone. look at the text you sent closest to an hour ago. what was it? It was “Ehhhhh” to my mom lol. I was feeling sick to my stomach.

40. do you believe in magical beings? discuss. Bro I am agnostic. So yes I believe in the possibility and I believe in there not being a possibility.

41. what time of the day do you feel most at peace with yourself? Well I like it when it’s between afternoon and evening and I take a nap. But I also feel at peace outside in nature on a sunny day. Or just seeing the sunrise.

42. choose one song. now choose someone else to sing it. what’s the song, and who is the new singer of said song? why? I’d be down for Emi Evans singing literally any song because I’m pretty positive she’s actually an angel with that gorgeous voice of hers.

43. have you ever cheated? on a person, on a test, in a game? why or why not? On a test and in a game, yeah. Why on a test? Because I hate the American school system. It’s cruel and evil and as a whole it disgusts me. Why on a game? Uhhh because I can? Lol, why not. Let me get all them rings to buy chao eggs in SA2B. (I’m talking about like single player video games btw, I wouldn’t cheat in anything multiplayer unless I was like 10 stealing money in Monopoly lmao.)

44. what is an impulsive decision you have made that you don’t regret? Mmmm my job at Nintendo? I don’t ever regret confessing my feelings either.

45. if you were given the opportunity to completely start your life over from the beginning with everything prior and up until your birth remaining the same, would you? Nah.

46. how do you feel about greek life in colleges? You mean like frats and stuff? Uhh to be honest I usually only ever hear bad things about them lol.

47. what is an aspect or event in history that you were obsessed with as a child? Never was too obsessed with history growing up I feel like. It all kinda sucked to learn about because America’s history sucks. I don’t mind learning about other countries’/cultures’ history though.

48. what would your wardrobe look like if you weren’t so afraid of being who you want to be? It’d probably be full of capes and full armor and long beautiful gowns and hooded robes and a bunch of hella gay stuff. I also just wanna wear rainbows and holographic stuff and lolita fashion, etc...

49. describe your ideal town to live in. Somewhere surrounded by nature I suppose.

50. what age are you scared to be? alternatively, what age were you most scared to be in the past? Uhhh like 80? Lol.

51. do you have a secret you want to share? be as vague or specific as you want. get it out. if you want. That I WANT to share? Seems unlikely. And the secrets that I want to share have most likely already been shared. A funny one I like to share is that I used to play ACWW under the covers at night when I was supposed to be sleeping. I told my mom that the other day and it was really funny lol.

52. do billionaires work harder than other people? discuss. Hell no.

53. if you had the means to start a charity, what would it be a charity for? Literally anyone anywhere who doesn’t have clean water. EVERYONE should have clean water.

54. what is your favorite hairstyle for yourself? Bangs down, hair long and poofy and wavy, with small pieces of hair on either side of my face pulled back into a tiny ponytail. Bonus points if I have little baby curls popping out from underneath, which I naturally do most of the time. I wish I had the energy to curl my hair more often.

55. what is your favorite memory from being 13 years old? This is when I was in 7th grade. Ironically that was my fave year of school. I was first introduced to anime, vocaloid, cosplay, cons, and really it’s just when I first got into music forreal. Some hilarious memories I have is my friend and I ditching class to go hang out with IT who couldn’t care less that we were there. We drew on their whiteboard and talked to them about nerd things since they were also nerds.

56. what is a movie that shaped who you were as a person at a young age? Omg, Thor lol. Pretty self explanatory if you know me well.

57. which us state would you erase if you could? LOL um... Let’s just go back to the source of the problem and erase D.C.

58. what is a skill you theoretically want to learn but probably never will? Aaaaaa I really want to be fluent in more than one language. I like to think I’ll at least learn how to play the guitar someday >_>

59. what is an obscure language you want to speak? Obscure? Hmm... Latin? Gaelic? And it’s not a real language but I wish I could speak the Chaos language from Nier ehehe.

60. you are put in a dangerous situation where you have to fend for yourself. what is your weapon of choice? why? Uhhh taser? I don’t want to kill anyone but I want to be able to immobilize them for long enough for me to be able to make an escape.

61. what is a place you choose not to go to anymore? why? School in general. I always hated going to school. Pretty much all of the nightmares I have are based in school.

62. do you think you’re living a fake life/putting on a facade/lying to people about who you really are? why or why not? When I’m at home, absolutely. My conservative parents don’t know I’m pan, a democrat, and agnostic. It’s painful to pretend I’m not any of those things.

63. what is the color that defines your life? why? I just wanna say pink because it’s my fave color lol.

64. you have the opportunity to go to an exclusive celebrity event. which one is it? (award shows, premieres, parties, etc) A premiere of one of my fave movie series would be fun (I only ever leave my house to go to movies anyway lmao). Avengers maybe? But Chris Pine wya?

65. you can bring back one person from the dead, but you must choose someone to die in their place. who are the two people you are choosing? I don’t really have any people close to me who have died so (aside from my cat Coonie but idk if that counts), I guess I’d pick Anton Yelchin to come back to life because his life was cut way too short. Donald Trump can BITE THE DUST. Pence can too lol.

66. what is your favorite fun fact that people don’t really know? Zero Escape has the best story ever. Hm? Wym that’s not a fact?

67. pick up the nearest reading material to you (book/magazine/paper/etc). what is the first line of that reading material? “Boys, help your sister to her room and call the medic.” from TLOK RotE Part 3 because I’m predictable.

68. if you had to choose a sport to play professionally, which one would you choose? Dancing is fun.

69. what is the worst way someone has betrayed you? Hah, easy one. Three of my closest friends all decided they didn’t wanna be my friend anymore in the same year and all blocked me without even trying to discuss the reason why with me. It’s fine though because the following year Spyro Reiginited was announced/released :) Spyro>>>>Humans

70. what do you do to unwind/cool down when you’re upset? Listen. To. Music.

71. what is the color scheme of your favorite sunrise or sunset? Various tones of pink~

72. what is a beauty product you swear by? Uhhh I’m not really good with this type of thing, but I always use Almay’s black liquid liner.

73. how do you feel about plastic surgery? discuss. Do it if you want, idc man. But I’m telling you right now your imperfections are what make you beautiful.

74. if you could get plastic surgery, would you? what would you change? Nah. I don’t want to feel unrecognizable by me.

75. cotton balls or cotton rounds? What the hell is a cotton round?

76. what is your favorite animal product? Uhhh milk? Dairy gives us pretty awesome things. I still like fruit better, though. And I’m not really a meat person.

77. what is one job that isn’t really around anymore that you would want to do? Human alarm clock sounds hilarious, I want to walk around waking people up by throwing shit at their houses.

78. if you lived in 1550, what would your life be like? make a character for yourself, but be honest about what it would actually be like. Is this like victorian era? Cuz I’d probably be too lazy to dress up in dresses and wear corsets all the time. I guess I’d draw a lot. Write a lot. Sleep a lot.

79. if you had to attend school in another country, which country would you choose? Mmm maybe Italy. Or Japan.

80. what will be/was the color scheme of your wedding? PINK and white.

81. is there something you have a really strong opinion about for basically no reason? what is it? Honestly just Sonic in general. I have MANY strong opinions. Positive and negative.

82. who is a person you would fight to the death for under any circumstances? My best friend.

83. what would you do if you were in the hunger games? be honest. Uhhh hide up in trees and wait for everyone else to kill each other lol.

84. what time do you think everyone should wake up? I’m personally not productive at all in the mornings, so any time past like 12pm lol.

85. what is your favorite type of nut? if you’re allergic to nuts, sorry. Cashews. Pistachios good too.

86. what is your favorite part of your hometown? The forest in general. I wanna live in a forest, but like without all the wild animals and bugs, thanks.

87. you must get rid of one of your electronic items. you have no choice. which one do you sacrifice? Lol I have plenty I need to get rid of, how about all the old earbuds I have laying around.

88. what is a conspiracy theory that you genuinely believe in? make it interesting please. Omg I love conspiracy theories so much. Zero Escape taught me so many and explained them through science and made them seem totally believable (please play Zero Escape). Morphogenetic field theory is pretty cool. Basically it’s an invisible field where you can transfer thoughts to another person. There have been experiments that prove it (people ask group A what is the picture of that they show them, none of them guess right. The people tell group A it is of a dog. Then they ask group B the same question and they all answer dog. So group A sent their thoughts to group B through the morphogenetic field.) so idk I wouldn’t be surprised if it was real. Also the many-worlds interpretation. Basically it’s about how there are many timelines and parallel worlds that exist. But I guess something basic that I totally believe in is alien life. There is literally no way there isn’t another lifeform out there in the ever expanding universe. Also 9/11 was totally all done by the US to start a war to make money.

89. what is the first memory you have of oppression/discrimination? it doesn’t have to be about yourself. There was a mentally disabled kid in our class in elementary school and people bullied him all the time. I remember one time I got paired up with him in a project and everyone started laughing and I got so pissed I yelled at the whole class for being dicks to him. Also just in general the R word used to be used really often. Luckily my generation grew up being taught to never ever use that word.

90. what is one song from the 80s that still goes so hard? Technically it’s late 70s but September by Earth, Wind, & Fire ROCKS.

91. what is a lyric that you hate? why do you hate it? There’s a song I really like that has a pretty homophobic/sexist line in it that bothers me really bad. But THE SONG SOUNDS SO GOOD AUGHHHH. The line is, “if you can’t be a man suck a fuckin’ dick”. Song is Mature Opinion (ironic I know) by Kenichiro Nishihara (but he just made the background music, the rapper is a different person). It’s so annoying because it’s exactly the type of sound I ADORE...I usually skip the line on purpose anyway.

92. name 3 books you were forced to read in school. The Bean Trees, Catcher in the Rye, and The Great Gatsby.

93. how do you keep track of events/deadlines? calendar? agenda? your brain? My phone’s calendar.

94. what is the first book that made you cry that comes to mind? Probably some LGBT romance manga lol.

95. if you had to give a seminar about something, what would it be about? I am NO expert (I don’t think any artist considers themselves an expert honestly) but I wouldn’t mind helping new artists out. I also always liked critiquing people’s essays/stories in school.

96. how do you feel about your mother? I love my mom and I appreciate that she at least tries to be considerate of my feelings on certain political topics. She is slightly more open than my dad is about that stuff. She used to be a lost worse growing up with her anger issues, but she’s getting better. It worries the HELL out of me that she thinks being bisexual is worse than being gay or lesbian. It makes me not want to ever come out to her about my pansexuality (I’ve resolved years ago that I’d tell my parents if I ever got into a serious relationship with someone who is not a straight cis boy lol). I appreciate that my mom listens and shows interest in some of my hobbies I talk to her about. I wish she’d open up to more genres of music. I love how much she loves and cares for me, I’m pretty sure I’m her best friend. I’ll always be there for my mom when she’s grieving. The way she chews with her mouth open and talks with food in her mouth drives me up the fucking wall. I know my mom worries about me and my mental health and I am grateful for that. I love it when my mom plays the piano music I request her to play. I love it when she actually likes certain songs I listen to. I wish she’d play video games with me lol. I wish she’d care less about swearing and cleavage. I appreciate that despite growing up in an incredibly strict Christian household (literally her dad was the principal of the Christian private school they went to) she gave me a more freeing childhood and went way easier on me than her parents did on her. I wish she’d love animation and action movies more. I love how she’s always willing to help me with making my cosplay. I love doting over our cat together. Idk, I have a lot of feelings about my mom lol.

97. is makeup an art form? discuss. Without question. You’re literally painting on your face, what more is there to say.

98. what kind of videos do you primarily watch on youtube? I love watching Vinesauce play games lol, especially corruptions.

99. what is the scent of your deodorant? “Powder fresh”.

100. at what age do you hope you die? At whatever age has me feeling like dying has more benefits than being alive.

[0225pm]

guess who came all the way to my place at 330AM!!!!! lol i was so surprised bc i just got done with putting on my acne treatments for the night and was about to hit the hay already until i received a call from han. funny thing was, i thought he was super tired today since we've met each other like 3 days in a row already so i figured i should let him rest and take a break from seeing my face HAHAHAHA 😂 and then earlier in the evening around 530PM, i met up with dayah since it was her birthday yesterday and i wanted to pass her a gift i got her as well. in the midst of it all, i managed to get cupcakes (thank goodness twelve cupcakes exist at bedok mall) as an additional gift because imo a birthday without some form of cake or something similar and edible isn't really a birthday-birthday, if you get what i mean!!! and then i treated her to a little something extra which was starbucks since they still had the 1-for-1 promo going on (thanks seanna for this!!) i know everything just seems like i'm spending a lot but idk i just wanted to make her feel like she deserves all these because of what she's going through both in school and at home. besides, it's not everyday that we do these sorta things for each other! and my mom always taught me to be kind and generous if you have the means to do it!! (〃＾▽＾〃) ok and then around 7+ i think we decided to head back home since she was tired from school and was carrying a lot of gifts from her clique at school. and upon reaching home, i video called han HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! he didn't pick it up at first so i thought ah, he must be asleep and i ended the call after a couple of rings. then just as i was about to head to the toilet to remove my makeup, i felt my phone vibrate and noticed that han was video calling me HAHAHAHAAH SO I PICKED IT UP AND HE WAS LIKE, han: woa first time you video call me eh me: ya hahaha i thought you're sleeping cus you didn't pick up han: no la i didn't feel the vibration etc etc etc me: ohhhhh me: me: han: is it you video call me cus you're wearing makeup??? me: LOLOLOLOLOL me: omg how you know HAAHAHAHHAHAAH this is, but true HAHAHAAH. i'm slowly tryna get comfortable with my skin and even after han had already seen me FRIKIN BARE FACED IN REAL LIFE during my visit to the clinic the other time for my acne meds, i still am so shy and embarrass to let him see my naked and makeup-free face even after all these time hahahaha even after he told me how much he doesn't care and it doesn't even bother him and how much he still adores and loves me no matter how shit i look and still give me lots of kisses and holds my hands in public but lol i still feel so..... shy and not confident enough. i feel like i should dress to match how good he looks because he slays all the time y'all like forrealz idk how he does it but he looks bomb all the time. and then after awhile he had to end the call because he had something to do and then he thanked me for video calling him for the first time ever haahhaahahah ヽ(；▽；)ノ anyway fast forward the time to about maybe 8/9pm or so. we were just having a normal conversation, with him replying sometimes instantly and sometimes taking up to 30 mins *rolls eyes* it was mostly about whether he had already had his dinner or not and then because i already had starbucks with dayah i sent him a photo of it telling him that if he's not tired on friday (his first day off) then maybe we can go grab it together since it's the last day of the promo. i think he saw my instastory cus the next moment he said something like "yeah and you light the savory one" and i was just LOL-ing because i thought he was sleepy which was the reason for the typos. and then i wanted to ask him to play ml with me but LOL HE ALR GM4 damn fast or what this bugger (also bc he's always playing ranked games more than classic/brawl. unlike me, i played like idk how many games of brawl already). then around 10PM he asked me to play first and then he'll join later. so i said ok ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but i was too busy doing other shit like removing my make up (yes i haven't removed my make up after the video call) and moisturizing, my skincare routine la basically and by the time i wanted to play ml i think it was already around 11+. and then suddenly he came online right at the time when i just ended my game and then he told me to play one round together then he's gonna go sleep. i was kinda bummed like aiya one round je?? but it's late and i know he has work later early in the morning so i said ok and then we played one round together and lost terribly i think cus he was lagging??? and his friend was lagging too or smth i'm not sure hahaha. but overall i am also now GM4!!!! i didn't see his goodnight message on ml until after 1 so i texted him asking if he was already asleep. but i kinda suspected that he was fast asleep cus he didn't reply after i double texted him again at like 2+ almost 3AM, sending him a screenshot of the new menu at macdonalds HAHAHAHAHA!!! and then suddenly he called me and i was so shocked?? bc at that time i was alr preparing to hit the hay. i excitedly picked up his call and asked him why isn't he asleep yet!!! then he said smth like he woke up or smth and saw my msg so i was like oh ok but he sounded super fresh like as though he just had a super good sleep. and then he said he wanted to go to the toilet and will call me back later but i told him to bring me along LOOOOL and then he said noooo for what but i said bring meeeeeeee. he ended up bringing me but putting me on mute. BUT WHAT SHOCKED ME THE MOST WAS WHEN I HEARD KNOCKING ON MY WINDOW WTF LA. cus it was already so damn late who tf would be knocking on my window right. and i was on the phone with han at that moment as well and i thought it was my brother but he's in camp!!!! so it's definitely not him. never in my mind would i have thought that it was actually han :') wtf i can't believe he came all the way to my place at such an ungodly timing. i was so touched!!!!!! he's so sweet ;;;;;;; what did i even do to deserve such a wonderful boyfriend like him omg. other people will probably think he's a creep for doing things like this but wtf i rly love it bc when someone rly loves you they do silly things like this and sacrifice and risk themselves just to see you and be with you!!!! i made him wait a rly long time and i was truly sorry but i'm not gonna go out looking like a kentang that just went through the fryer with my oily ass haven't shampoo hair and my stinky face full of spot treatments LOL so i went to wash my face, used lots of dry shampoo to soak up my oily hair and then put on a huge ass hoodie lmaO. the moment i stepped outta the house, han: what took u so long???? me: um i look like shit han: *embraces me from back* me: um *blushes but he can't see thank god* han: *continues back hugging into the lift* me: why u come all the way here omg?????? han: hmmmm *still hugging* me: somemore you got work later then must go all the way back lol wtf i'm so passive aggressive when i actually fucking highkey loves the fact that he's right in front of my eyes in physical form LOL me: *waddles bc han is still back hugging me* han: me: me: me: *unlocks han's embrace to turn around and face him before i flung my arms around his neck into a tight hug* he smells so good ;-; he smells just like he came out from the showers or something omg i love his smell?????? is that a thing hahaahha then we held hands and walked to mcds but lol it wasn't dinner/supper anymore cus by 4 they changed the menu to breakfast which was ok by me but i think han actually wanted to have their dinner set bc he wanted to try the new menu but das ok we can always get it another time!! OH AND WHILE WALKING he said, "u never notice anything ah?" then i was like huh and i looked down at what he was staring/pointing at. and i realized he was wearing the jeans i got him hehehehe and it fits him quite well!!!!!!! sorry i wasn't observant i was still in a state of surprise to notice or maybe it's bc you look like a million bucks all the time already ;) and then around 4+ 5 he had to leave to avoid the morning commuters :( i was sad bc he's leaving so early but i can't be selfish either bc i don't want him to be stuck in a jam and then be late bc of my selfishness so he booked a grab and after many many many kisses and warm hugs, he left since the grab driver already arrived. but lol he keyed in the wrong location and then i booked another grab for him instead with the right location this time (he got the same driver ahahahaha) and watched him get in the car safely before i went in, washed up, sent him a text and falling asleep soundly hehe. best boyfriend award goes to you ♡