#at That point in his life..... maybe i'm reading too much into it... certainly when i see him dance

[whatdoyoumeanimacat]

𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘?

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙶𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Yandere behavior, Kidnapping, Dead Doves: Do Not Eat, Stockholm syndrome (?), mentions of self harm

Author's note - I disappear once in a while and it's concerning I know but I promise I'm not dead :( (I will ALWAYS come back <3 Y'all so supportive *sobs aggressively and cutely*)

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 more did you want? Why were you so cruel to him when all he wanted was to protect you? To help you? To love you? Was it too much to ask? Just a little love? You knew too well that he wasn't happy like he seemed to be. You read him. You saw through him the instant he met you. You tore the layers of his heart and made your way through in, sitting on the vacant throne. That wasn't supposed to be for a human. It's too dangerous. Oh well. It's too late now, isn't it? You're already buried 10 feet deep in his heart. There's no going back now. Satoru was hurt. He didn't know why your sweet little brain couldn't understand why he captured you and kept you locked up in his basement. Why couldn't you understand that this was for your own good? Or was it? Why couldn't you understand that he did this just for you and he was not being selfish. Oh, how could he be selfish when you gave away your world and understood him? He was used as a weapon. But you looked at him like a small, delicate little flower.

A human.

Maybe that was your biggest mistake. To the point that it made you feel like smashing your head against the hard concrete walls of the basement, he had kept you in. You didn't understand. Why? Why was he doing this? Why was he hurting you so much? Why had he kept you locked up to suffer? Sure, he had kept you locked up in a huge estate with lots and lots of luxuries, and basically everything you could ever want to everything you couldn't even dream of seeing. But that surely didn't excuse the fact that he had kidnapped you. You felt your life fade away before your eyes. Time passed by, days passed by, and you rotted in the basement, the only form of entertainment being the carefully programmed laptop Satoru had got you. Today, was another day of your organs slowly rotting in your body, as you felt your organs sink deep inside you. You mindlessly held the page-down button on the laptop, while Satoru clung to you, refusing to let go as if you'd vanish into thin air if he did so. You heard your stomach rumble, breaking the silence in the air, to which he giggled like a teenage girl staring at her crush. Not one bit was this funny to you. He had starved you for 2 days after you fought to get out of this nightmare of a house. "Awh~ Someone's hungry, huh?" He teased. Your eyes never left the laptop. You couldn't stand him. No. Not one bit. He chuckled at your expressionless face (which wasn't really expressionless. It was more of... numbness.) He chuckled. Of course, he didn't care. You're the idiot here if you think he did. Yet, he spends all of his nights convincing himself that nobody cares like he does.

"C'mon, baby girl. Don't be like that, yeah? I'll getcha some food, mhm? How about then? Will you behave, baby girl?" Oh how much you hated that tone of his. He talked as if he owned the world. Maybe he did. But he certainly did not own you. And that's where you're wrong. "Gimme 15 minutes, yeah? I'll come back with some food, hm?" You felt warmth spread on your lungs when you heard the word 'food'. Almost like a starved, abused dog. Maybe there wasn't much difference between you and a starved, abused dog. Oh, you poor thing. Only if someone was kind enough to pity you just as much as you pitied others. Too bad, too sad. This is not a story and you certainly are not the princess of the story. "Whatever...just get me something to eat." You muttered, your throat dry from dehydration. Oh you'd trade golds and silvers for a drop of water. He chuckled at your impatient tone, he found it cute, even though you’re just hungry and want some food. “Not to worry dear... I’ll be back in 15 minutes, alright? Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone~” You felt a heavy weight lift off your shoulders at the sight of him getting off the bed and leaving the basement. You swore you felt your heart lighten up at the sight of him leaving.

But the gods didn't like you and wanted you to suffer and carry the weight of all the burdens in this world. Satoru came back after what it felt like 2 seconds. “I’m back, baby girl- and I got you food~” He hummed. You felt your heart drown back in when you heard his playful voice. He held a polythene bag, with something inside "What did you buy?" Your voice cracked. You'd die for some water. Just a drop. What did you do to deserve this fate-? No, what did your poor little throat do to deserve such a fate? Being stuck with someone as unlucky as yourself. Oh, that poor thing. He sat back on the bed, beside you while you made an attempt to pull the bag out of his hold, only to fail. "uh-uh." Your lips instantly curled downward. "I'll give ya this, under one condition." Your frown deepened. "What." You questioned coldly. He chuckled at your response, he loved how annoyed and impatient you were. But that was only making Satoru enjoy this much more. “Come on now, don’t be like that.. at least I'm not making you beg- plus, if you want something, you gotta be nice and ask sweetly, no?~” He teased before leaning closer, his expression turned serious “It’s nothing bad, I promise. But, I’m just asking you to fulfill a certain condition.~" You hated that tone. That cocky, know-it-all tone. But your stomach couldn't care less. "What do you want?" You couldn't take it anymore. You were starving. It was all amusing to him, though. He smirked, his voice teasing, "Baby girl, you’re being too impatient right now. If you want it so badly, you gotta give me a kiss~" The visible disgust on your face could've made him laugh his ass off. Again, you felt like you'd die if you didn't have a piece of food on your tongue right now. So you accepted, leaning in and pecking his cheek quickly, noticing the tint of red while you proceeded to grab the bag from his hand, digging in. He chuckled at your sudden excitement for the food, you were clearly starving and it was kinda adorable to him. As if he hasn't starved you for 2 days. “Relax, I haven’t even taken the food out of the bag yet and you're already so eager to dig in” He teased as he began to take out the food from the plastic bag. “I got you some rice n' sushi." He watched with infatuation in his eyes while you gulped down the rice and sushi. You could feel your stomach warm up after you swallowed the first bite. Oh, how heavenly it felt. Nothing could compare to it. Or perhaps, he could. That was the exact feeling he felt whenever he saw you. He felt starved without you. A person dying of thirst regrets every single second he wasted water throughout his life. The first drop of water that quenches his thirst, feels heavenly to him. Again, to the point, he tears up and worships water for the rest of his life. That was the exact emotions he felt towards you. Such strong emotions, no? Well, it isn't wise to feel such extreme emotions towards a human being.

As minutes passed, you eventually finished all the food, completely and utterly full. Satoru leaned back as he spoke. “Are you finally done now, baby girl..?” He chuckled, and a fond smile crept onto his lips. “Took you long enough.. it was honestly kind of amusing to see you eat so fast like you’ve never had food in your life” You felt anger building up in your lungs. How dare this- this imbecile ask you such a question as if he hadn't starved you for two whole days? But you knew better than to start a fight. Yet, this was overwhelming. Tell me, just how much can a little human being tolerate? And for how long can it tolerate? You frown. "Why do you call me 'baby girl'?" You did not like him. He chuckled at your question. He knew you did not like him. "Why else? I’m calling you that because you’re just way too cute and adorable to not give you that nickname. I’m also calling you baby girl because you belong to me. You’re mine."

It enraged you. You were not some tool to be thrown around. You were a human. A kind human. You couldn't accept this from him. Not after being such an angel to him when everyone saw him as a weapon. I scoff. "Go find another woman who's willing, kidnap her, and torture her, let go of me." At this point, you prayed, begged, any god, any angel, any mystery being out there, to make him somehow fall out of love with you and find someone else to bother. Seems like this would start a fight. Time to say bye-bye to food again for a good few days, I guess. “Excuse me?” He spoke, his voice was low and menacing as he leaned closer. He was clearly pissed. “Who do you think you’re talking to, baby girl?” You frown, pissed as well. "Well- why don't you go out and find someone who fucking loves you instead of being a fucking creep and kidnapping someone who-" He cut you off. “No.” He replied firmly “I’d never let you go, baby girl. Not even in your fucking dreams." You let out a 'tsk', turning your head away as this slowly started to get heated. "Do you know how fucking sick you sound??? You are so fucking disgusting! why the fuck don't you leave me alone and find someone fucking else-!??!!" His patience was being tested and his irritation began to grow bigger than before. "Because all of them want my fucking money. They like me because I'm strong, popular, and loved. They all only wanted me for my reputation, something that I can offer them.” He paused “You’re different, you don’t want anything from me other than my love and affection.”

Now that's where he's wrong. You scoff. "GOD DAMN MAN- I don't want anything from you-! I didn't even know you properly before you kidnapped me-! We were JUST friends-! But you forgot. This is his house. His rules. You'd obey whether you like it or not. He looked at you with a dark, cold glare. You were starting to get on his nerves and he could feel the anger rising inside of him, like a storm brewing inside his mind. He was furious with your behavior. “Babygirl.. I’m going to ask this once. Shut. Up. Stop speaking before you say something you’ll regret.” He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his calm despite his boiling anger. But you knew you were hitting the right points in him. Maybe if you keep this attitude up for a few months he'd get tired and let go of you. Maybe. "OH YEAH-!? Now it's fucking bitter cause it's the truth! You just fucking wanted me because I wrote those pathetic goddamn poems for you TO MAKE YOU FEEL FUCKING BETTER-! I did it as a GOOD fucking FRIEND. If I knew you were such a MANIAC, I wouldn't even have GLANCED at you-!" It's true you were an angel to him. But that's the reason he fell for you. What if you were the same with someone else and they took advantage of it? No. No. He can't bear that. He could never. His heart would bleed to death. His anger was now at its peak, you just kept pushing and pushing and it was only getting bigger and bigger the more you spoke. “SHUT UP-” He snapped, losing his temper and patience “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR WHINING AND COMPLAINING!” He had now cornered you. Be careful, this is Satoru Gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

He trapped you between him and the wall behind your back. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that again, do you understand me?” He spoke with a stern tone “I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth about me letting you go." But you can't stop there. You can't lose this time. Losing gets tiring after some time. And you start to get desperate. You were starting to get desperate too. "I just was fucking go home-! Get out of your mind-! You're a fucking CREEP-!" He leaned down closer to your face, his voice raising, anger clear in his voice. “Did you not hear me?” He spoke through gritted teeth “Stop speaking. You keep saying things that are getting on my nerves and pissing me off.” What a nightmare. The proximity probably scared you. I mean, it's Satoru Gojo. He scares everyone. He's a weapon, after all. You instinctively squeeze your eyes shut, turning your face away. Your lips quivered as you managed to utter out some words, "I wish I never met you." Once again, what a nightmare.

He paused for a moment, his anger slowly fading as he watched tears stream silently down your face. Despite his boiling anger being replaced by a throb in his chest. “What?” He muttered, his voice no longer sharp and aggressive “What’d you say, babygirl..?” Oops! You've made his heart bleed. Not like it's your first time doing this, so I guess it'll be fine. But hey-! The guilt will swallow you alive, though! He looked down at you, studying your expression and watching your tear-stained face. He stared at you for a moment before he slowly spoke again, his voice now soft and gentle “Did you.. say you wish you’d never met me..?” The numbness in his voice was clear, he sounded like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard from you. Satoru loosened and stumbled back a few steps. He continued to study your face, his heart feeling a little heavy when he saw how fearful and afraid you looked. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt deep within him, seeing you this terrified of him. “You… you really hate me that much, huh?” He muttered quietly, his voice sounding sad and almost… hurt. He continued to stare down at you, his eyes looking into yours with a mixture of sadness and hurt. Despite the anger he had felt before, he suddenly felt a wave of a different kind of pain in his heart. He couldn’t lie, hearing you say that you never wanted to meet him hurt him more than he thought it would. For the first time, Satoru felt an intense feeling of sadness that he hadn’t felt before. He was conflicted at the moment; he knew he was supposed to get angry at your words, but seeing how frightened you were and hearing the way you spoke of him filled him with a sense of guilt and remorse. He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating his thoughts before he slowly spoke again, his voice soft and quiet. Despite trying to maintain his composure, there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, “Is.. is that really how you feel?” He asked, his voice almost shaky “That you wish you never met me..?” Your silence stabbed his heart. He's a hundred percent sure even if he had his infinity on, he'd still feel it. No one had ever even laid a finger on him, except you, perhaps. This was his first time. We all have first times, no? He could tell you weren’t going to answer his question, judging by your silence and lack of response. Deep down, he knew what answer was, but he still desperately wanted to hear it from you directly “Please…. Please just tell me if that’s how you really feel..” His heart ached as he spoke, the vulnerability in his tone becoming more obvious.

"Yes."

His heart felt like it shattered into shards when he heard your response. Even though he expected it, the truth being said out loud still felt like a sucker punch to the gut. His eyes dropped down, he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eye contact anymore. For the first time in a long time, Satoru felt a deep, sharp pain in his heart. He tried to keep his composure, but he felt like his walls were slowly crumbling down around him. Oh, how he drowned in his emotions. It felt as if a glass of boiling hot acid was poured on top of his delicate, feeble little heart. He protected everyone. Everyone and anyone. Known and strangers. Why wasn't there even a small ant to protect him? Why him? Why? His world shattered as he walked out. Oh how the poor little weapon of a heart cried in his ribs. It bled and cried and sobbed to be held by you, to hear your comforting voice, soothing voice, to tell it that you didn't mean it. Oh how that poor thing begged the brain to wake up, except, this wasn't even a dream to begin with. What did this poor little thing do to deserve such misery? Oh the poor little thing. But. Guilt is a monster. Satoru lay on his back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling with his arms folded behind his head. He hadn’t spoken to you for the past few hours, not a single word from him. He sat in complete silence, lost deep inside his thoughts. It had been so quiet the entire time that the only sounds that filled the room were his breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The silence engulfed the room until he heard some creakings in the basement. Oh right. You were there, in the basement. His angel was there in the basement.

He sat up immediately, his ears perking up when he heard the noise coming from the room you were kept in. It was the first sound he had heard in hours, and he was curious to see what it was. Satoru swung his legs off the bed and stood up, walking over to the door of the room he had kept you in. He peeped in. He had chained you. He found you chained, staring out of the tiny window, moonlight falling on your face. Moonlight falling on your angelic face. Oh what a sight to soothe his sore, bleeding heart. You were singing a song. Your favorite. "Did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry?~ And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best, though it never felt right~ My Little Versailles~" The sound of your beautiful voice coming from the room caught him off guard, making him freeze for a brief moment. He stood in front of the door and listened quietly to your singing, feeling a pang in his heart when he heard the lyrics of the song. Little did he know, you weren't singing. This was the voice of guilt. The guilt took over your throat as you struggled to voice it out, in the form of music. "The hospital asked should the body be cast~ Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky~ Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth, Do you find it all right, my dragonfly?~ Shall we look at the moon, my little loon~ Why do you cry?~ Make the most of your life, while it is rife~ While it is light~ We're all gonna die~" Maybe the guilt tortured you just as much as his heart tortured him. Maybe you were really upset for saying those things to him. What a silly being you are. Being sorry for hurting my kidnapper's feelings. The person who tortured me. Maybe that's why he fell for you. Maybe that's why, you actually are an angel. His shoulders slumped as he listened to you sing the lyrics of the song. He could almost feel the sadness and hurt in your voice, and even though he knew he should be mad and upset at you for saying that you wished you had never met him, he couldn’t bring himself to feel that anymore. All he felt now was a mixture of guilt and sadness, as he thought about the pain he had caused you. He leaned against the door frame, still listening to your voice fill the room.

"Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head Was it all a disguise, like Junior High Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction Now, where am I? My fading supply~" Hearing the words about being in 'disguise' in the song seemed to hit Satoru harder. It was almost as if the song spoke to his heart, bringing forth the feelings of guilt and remorse that he had buried deep within him. It was perhaps what you knew about him. He hid his real feelings behind a happy, playful, flirty, and teasing facade. But, how long will a facade really last? With his eyes closed and his head leaned back, he listened to every word you sang, his heart growing heavier with each passing line. "Did you get enough love, my little dove Why do you cry? And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best Though it never felt right My little Versailles" His mind kept replaying the same words of the song over and over again, and he couldn’t stop himself from feeling the pang in his heart each time he heard those lines. He continued to lean against the door frame, his heart feeling like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. He knew he should walk into the room and confront you for how you felt, but he found himself unable to move, stuck in his place as he listened to you sing. "Shall we look at the moon, my little loon Why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife, While it is light" As he continued to listen to your beautiful, sad voice singing the lyrics of the song, the guilt and remorse inside of Satoru continued to grow like shadows in the back of his mind. The words of the song seemed to hit him harder and harder, making him feel a sense of pain and suffering that he had never felt before. Despite how he appeared to others, he had deep feelings that he hid inside, and hearing the song seemed to make them all burst to the surface all at once.

"We're all gonna die"

That last line of the song truly felt like it stabbed him straight through the heart. It was like a dagger being plunged into his chest when he heard the words spoken so sadly from your voice. Satoru gritted his teeth as he continued to lean against the door frame, his mind filled with a chaotic mixture of emotions that refused to die down.

"We're all gonna die."

He couldn’t take it anymore. The words echoed like a mantra in his head, making the feeling in his heart even worse. Without thinking, Satoru pushed himself off the doorframe and pushed the door open, stepping into the room to face you. His eyes were slightly wide as he looked at you, noticing the expression on your face. He walked up to you until he was standing right in front of you, towering over your figure. Despite trying to maintain a calm exterior, his heart was beating faster and his mind was racing with a mixture of feelings and thoughts. Satoru stared at you, trying to figure out what to say. For the first time, he felt completely speechless. The normally confident and composed man was now standing in front of you completely silent, his mind still reeling back from the words of the song and the pain in your voice. Perhaps his presence killed your guilt a little. You stood there, internally panicking. "I-I-....a-aren't you asleep yet...?" Satoru’s intense gaze focused on yours as you looked up at him. He was silent for a moment before he spoke, his voice deep and calm, but with a hint of melancholy in his tone “No. I wasn’t able to sleep.” He continued to look down at you, looking into your eyes, studying your expression. He could tell you were panicking, but he didn’t seem to care about that at the moment. Now this was awkward. You didn't know what to say or do. What was up with this guy...? Wait- that's right! What's up-! Wonderful. You nod, looking away. "What's...up?" Satoru continued to stare down at you as you muttered, his intense eyes still fixed on yours. He could feel a strange tension in the air, and he knew he needed to confront you about what he had heard "I heard you singing in here.” His voice was calm and steady, but there was an undertone of sadness and vulnerability in his tone. He stepped closer to you, closing the small gap between you and him. ”The words... you... said." His voice grew softer as he continued to look down at you, his eyes focused on yours. "Did you mean it?" What a weird question. Doesn't everybody sing just because they like the song?? We're not Disney characters, hey. But, just maybe. Maybe you meant that. Who knows. I for sure don't. "I....guess." You mutter. The tension in the air was thick. Satoru’s heart squeezed in his chest when he heard your response. His expression remained serious, but the sadness in his eyes grew a little bit stronger. “You guess?” He repeated the words you said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. “That’s not a yes or no answer.” Oh, come on. You sure were kind. You are kind. Your heart would squeeze at the thought of even giving someone a dirty look, let alone hurt them. What a sweet being you were. Guilt loves to engulf such sweetness. You tear up, frustration clear on your face. "Yes. I meant that. I meant the things I said. I couldn't say it to your face, but I thought the stuffs I said earlier had a huge impact on you. It hurts me. I couldn't bear to hurt anyone. To hurt you. Not after I gave all of my love to you. Not after I dedicated the life of my heart to shower you the love nobody ever showed you with." No wonder why he fell for me, to the point of obsession and beyond.

Satoru listened to what you said, his heart clenching at the pain and hurt in your voice. He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice cracking a little as he tried to hold back his own emotions. “I… I knew you meant it when you said those things. I just wanted to hear you say it out loud.” He took a deep breath, his expression still serious despite the sadness in his eyes. "I've been causing you pain...haven't I?" Oh the poor little child. The poor being went through so much, you could tear up. Oh how much it's heart ached. You could feel it. It's a curse. Or, maybe, it's a blessing. Maybe. You slowly opened your arms. "Do you...wanna cry...?" Satoru couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The sight of you opening your arms, offering him comfort, was something he had never expected. His expression softened at the words you said to him, and he felt a wave of emotions welling up inside of him. “I…..” For the first time, tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill out. He let out a shaky breath, trying to keep his composure. Seeing you offer him a place to feel vulnerable and emotional was something he never knew he needed so badly. You nod slowly, opening your arms. Oh, that soft look of kindness in your eyes squeezes his heart so tight. Without saying anything else, Satoru moved quickly and crouched down in front of you, wrapping his arms around your small figure. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body shaking slightly as he held onto you tightly. Despite how powerful and strong he was, at that moment, he just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You wrap your arms around him, your abductor. You gently pat his hands, feeling the guilt die down slowly, little by little in your heart, leaving your veins, even though it wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place. The guilt should've never formed. Satoru continued to hold onto you tightly, clutching onto you as if his life depended on it. He couldn’t hold back the tears that streamed down his face as he buried his face against your chest, letting out quiet, shaky sobs. Your hand running through his hair and rubbing his back only made him cry harder, as he realized just how much he had been hurting you.

"Shall we look at the moon,

my little loon,

why do you cry~?

did you get enough love~

my little dove~

why do you cry~?

We're all gonna die."

Satoru clutched onto you tighter, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head buried against your chest. He couldn’t control the tears that streamed down his face and soaked your clothes, his body shaking slightly as he took deep, shaky breaths. Satoru felt a wave of emotion wash over him, and in that moment, he knew he had completely fallen for you. As if he didn't already know. Satoru continued to sob quietly into your chest, his body trembling slightly as he held onto you tightly. He couldn’t believe how much he was crying, how much pain he was feeling, and how completely vulnerable he was in this moment. But at the same time, he couldn’t have cared less, as he leaned into your touch and let your comfort wash over him. “Please…” He spoke in a hoarse, shaky voice, his grip on you not loosening at all. “Please, don’t ever say that you wish you had never met me again…” He sobbed, and sobbed. The words that left his throat made your eyes well up with tears.

Why were you such a cruel being to a child?

You're just like your mother.

You stared at him with agonizing pain, unable to express any of it. But, what he did was wrong too, no? What he did was bad. Nothing could, and nothing would justify it. For god's sake, He's a child. What good does a child know? A child finds something it loves, and wishes to be with it. What is the child's fault? Is it so wrong to wish for something? What is right? What is wrong? You are wrong. The poor child wishes for some comfort, for some love. It's not like it chose to be born here. It knows nothing. The poor little thing needs someone to hold onto, who will show them the right way, who will show them love, kindness, patience. You were oh, so kind to every one of them who just took advantage of it. Why can't you be a little more considerate towards someone who just wants some love? You didn't know what was correct, what was incorrect. And if I'm being honest, I don't either. Why does it matter, though? At the end of the day, At the end of the time,

𝐖𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐞.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ

{ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴜʟʏ} {ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ꜱᴜꜰᴊᴀɴ ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇɴꜱ}

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝚄𝚂+! 𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙴𝚁

© ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴏʀ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴘɪꜱꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ >:(

[kimberleyjean]

What did Adam change? (Part 1)

To follow up on my recent reblog about the baby swap, I'm going to take a closer look at Adam where we leave him at the end of S1. Because, by the end of S1, Adam had changed quite a few things... and I'm going to use both the TV show and the book to provide evidence.

To become the Young's real son, I don't think Adam really needed to change all that much. He just says the words to Satan, Satan disappears, and that should be it, right? But no, because Adam goes much further, and I think he does it because he can.

Because Adam has opinions, you see. Opinions on how the world should be and what he wants to happen. Except, unlike Agnes, who needs to write a prophecy and then wait 300 years for her descendant to enact it, Adam can just make it so.

The Other Two Babies

I originally thought about putting all the things Adam changes into a single post, but instead I'm going to make this a short series of posts, because he changes a fair bit. Let's start with where we left off with the baby swap, crack open a copy of the book and discuss the changes for Warlock and Greasy first.

Warlock

Here's some excerpts of Warlock flying home from Megiddo to America (my bolds for emphasis):

It was Sunday afternoon. High over England a 747 droned westwards. In the first-class cabin a boy called Warlock put down his comic and stared out of the window.

...

And now he was going back to the States. There had been some sort of problem with tickets or flights or airport destination-boards or something. It was weird; he was pretty sure his father had meant to go back to England. Warlock liked England. It was a nice country to be an American in.

...

And Warlock flew on to America. He deserved something (after all, you never forget the first friends you ever had, even if you were all a few hours old at the time) and the power that was controlling the fate of all mankind at that precise time was thinking: Well, he's going to America, isn't he? Don't see how you could have anythin' better than going to America. They've got thirty-nine flavors of ice cream there. Maybe even more.

So it's Adam who has sent Warlock back to America, despite Warlock wanting (even, expecting) to be on his way to England. And he's controlling the fate of all mankind.

Greasy

Likewise, he has changes for Greasy Johnson too (the discarded baby who grows up to win prizes for his tropical fish).

The plane was at that point passing right above the Lower Tadfield bedroom of Greasy Johnson, who was aimlessly leafing through a photography magazine that he'd bought merely because it had a rather good picture of a tropical fish on the cover. A few pages below Greasy's listless finger was a spread on American football, and how it was really catching on in Europe. Which was odd… because when the magazine had been printed, those pages had been about photography in desert conditions. It was about to change his life.

Adam is deciding here how to alter Warlock and Greasy's paths. Warlock wants to be back in the UK, but Adam thinks America is better, while Greasy's magazine is changed to American football, which I guess is implying he's going to become an American footballer.

Now, not everyone may be aware, but these parts weren't in the first release of the novel. It only came about later, in the American edition. Apparently the changes were in response to prompting from the American editor, but they got "carried away" making those changes (source).

Season 3 (warning: speculation)

So, do you think this could be relevant for S3? For me personally, the fact that these bits were added later makes me wonder if this was helping to set up for a potential sequel. It's certainly poetic - just like the baby swap that originally involved all three, we are now implying a potential adolescent swap of Greasy, who is interested in American football, and Warlock, who is interested to return to the U.K.

If you've read at all about the hypothetical plot of the proposed written sequel, you'll know that it involved a trip to America, ostensibly to look for a lost Jesus. So, if the next book was originally meant to be about going and finding someone (Jesus?) in America, then Greasy or Warlock could make sense. It would be a switcheroo all over again if Warlock had left for the UK and Greasy for America.

Another alternative is that all three could end up converging in America, since Warlock already lives there and both Adam and Greasy have interests in going there. But if that's the intention, why mention that Warlock wants to be back "home" in the U.K.?

So, those are my possible takes on how this passage can be interpreted. I know there are some theories that either Greasy or Warlock may be the Second Coming. I've also seen a theory now that Adam himself could be a contender (both spawn of Satan and spawn of God - it'd certainly be interesting!). I'm not placing bets on any of these outcomes just yet.

In addition to this passage in the book, we also see some interesting changes made by Adam which are featured more prominently in the show - one's that have implications for the ineffable husbands.

Part 2 coming soon!

Thanks as always to everyone at the @ineffable-detective-agency (including @noneorother, @embracing-the-ineffable, @lookingatacupoftea, @251-dmr, @somehow-a-human, @maufungi, @havemyheartaziraphale, @theastrophysicistnextdoor, @dunkthebiscuit, @komorezuki, & @ghstptats).

[2024skin]

Orpheus' off-Broadway epic is WAY better than the official recording

[wolfish-trickster]

You made your choice

Gojo x fem!reader

Part 2

Previous part

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: you asked Gojo who is more important to him, you or his bestfriend. He indirectly chose and now he's experiencing consequences of his own action (probably for the first time in his life).

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @nanao4k

A/N: I recomend listening to this song while reading (was listening to it while coming up with the story, the song and the story aren't exact copies of eachother but the vibe is about the same) and to those who know me THE LINK IS SAFE TO CLICK I DIDN'T LINK IT WITH WHAT YOU THINK I SWEAR. Enjoy the reading 😊

"Hey, can I come over?"

"Dude, you were just here!"

"I know, I know. But I need a shoulder to cry on."

"Damn, that bad? What happened? You and Y/N had a fight or...?"

"Can I just come over?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Geto Suguru has had a lot of weird moments with his best friend, but that phone call certainly was...something. No explanation, no joking around, just straight to the point.

About fifteen minutes later he heard his front door open.

"Satoru, did you learn how to teleport or something? We live an hour away from eachother," Geto joked before he could even turn around and see the state his friend was in. Disheveled hair, dry lips, red eyes. Something terrible must've happened.

"It's Y/N," was all Gojo said before he sat down at the dining table.

"Figured that much," replied Geto and took a seat next to him and waited. He knew Gojo. That man can't shut his mouth to save his own life. He'll spill everything sooner or later.

Gojo let his head fall on top of Geto's and sighed. Geto patted his fluffy white hair and kept on waiting. Good thing was they both sat right across a big window. Geto could count pine cones on the nearby trees while he waited for Gojo to open up.

It didn't take long.

"Y/N left."

"WHAT?!" Geto pushed the white head off of his shoulder and took Gojo by the shoulders. "What happened? What did you do?" He stared him in the eye.

Gojo just blinked. "I don't know! I don't think I did anything wrong," he looked oit the window again. A squirell jumped from one branch to another.

Geto rolled his eyes and turned Gojo's face back to his. "Satoru, people don't just up and leave. You must've done or said something that hurt her feelings. What did I tell you about comunication being-"

"Being the cornerstone of a good relationship, I remember," he put his hands on Geto's cupping his face. "We did talk. And I thought we came to a mutual understanding. Then I offered to cuddle with her and went to shower but once I walked out she was gone. All her things too..."

"Wow," Geto let go of his friend's face, "what a bitch."

"Right?" Gojo agreed and leaned back on his chair so far it was threatening to fall. "I don't understand. She never complained before, never said anything, then all of a sudden she pulls a stunt like that, throws a scene, slips into her selfhating thing again-"

"Wait, she what?" Geto asked confused. He has met you enough times to know you were very cheerful and life-loving person. What was Gojo talking about? Selfhatred?

"She has these moments,"he explained, "thinks she's too fat, then not curvy enough, thinks she's too basic to be with a guy like me, so on. When it happened the first few times i comforted her but even after all those years she still thinks of herself as less than and I'm too damn tired of it. I thought all of those negative thoughts would go away the first time I assured her I love her no matter what," he crossed his arms on his chest and looked out the window again. "I'm starting to feel like she's doing it for attention."

"Listen Satoru, maybe she's just extremely selfconscious and people like her need reassurance like that. Besides if she was really doing that for attention she wouldn't leave withoit a word. She would leave hints for you to find her and come beg her on your knees or something."

Gojo chuckled. "Suguru, you've got to stop watching Shoko's telenovelas."

"I'm a slut for drama."

A phone rang.

In a speed of light Gojo pulled out his phone hoping to see your lovely face. The screen was black.

Geto pulled out his ringing phone and picked up. "Well well, speak of the devil," he smiled.

Gojo couldn't hear what him and Shoko were talking about. He could only take hints from Geto's facial expressions and his occasional answers.

"What do you mean you have to cancel it? Oh. Okay. I understand. And did she tell you what-" his eyes got wide. "But wait, that's not- I didn't- Actually he's right next to me."

Gojo tried to get closer to hear what they were talking about but Geto jumped up and walked across the room.

"Okay. Okay, i'll ask him. No, that's fine. Alright. Take care, both of you. Bye," he hung up. Then slowly turned around to face Gojo now standing opposite him.

"Now you'll tell me exactly what had happened between you two. You said she caused a scene, what was it about?"

His mouth turned into neutral line, just like when you started this whole mess. "She asked me to stop seeing you. Can you believe that? Trust me, if I told her to stop seeing her friends all hell would break lose."

"Isn't that what happened when she asked you?" Geto pointed out the obvious double standard but Gojo wasn't listening.

"Didn't you hear what I just said? She wanted me to spend more time with her. Like, what does she want me to do? Make me and her morph into one being?"

"It is true that you've been spending a lot of time with me," Geto held his chin between his fingers in a thought. "But I don't get one thing. If you being away from her this often was a problem for her then she must've shown signs, not encourage you to come and spend time with me when she was too busy herself."

"About that," Gojo nervously played with his shades. "I might've over-exagarated that."

"Don't tell me..." Geto pinched the bridge of his nose.

"She wasn't always busy when I came here."

"Satoru!" He half shouted. "You always told me she was too busy and couldn't come! Why would you lie?"

"Because i felt trapped!" He yelled back. "I felt like I couldn't even breathe. Yes, being around has brought me so much joy but I missed the thrill of being free. Just being with you and Shoko and doing whatever. Now I just feel like I'm chained to something that I kinda want away from but also not," the entire time he spoke he was pacing back and forth. "I just wanted to feel like the old times."

"So in other words you miss the feeling of being single but you also like the benefits relationship gives you," Geto concluded. "I thought you were better than this."

"And I thought you would understand," Gojo turned his anger against his best friend who was calmly standing in the living room. "But wait, I forgot, you have no one," he mocked.

"Damn right I don't. Which makes me even more pissed off when I see how you treat your own relationship! Have you got any idea how much I envied you for having someone waiting for you at home and welcome you after a long day? Or just someone to be there for you in general?"

Gojo got silent. He didn't know. Geto never showed it.

Geto took it as his chance to try speak some sense into Gojo. "Listen, you only feel like this because you've never been in a relationship. Feeling trapped is normal, I think. What's important is that you love her and you're capable of changing to get her back, right?"

Gojo was just looking at him.

"Right?" Geto said a bit more panicked.

"I don't know!" Gojo exclaimed and Geto facepalmed. "I don't know how to choose between her and you."

"Is that what she asked? For you to choose between her and me?"

Gojo shook his head. "No, I think she just wanted me to spend less time with you."

"So she didn't out right prohibit you from hanging out with me, she only asked for you to stay with her more often," Geto was slowly but surely getting the whole picture.

"Something like that," Gojo shrugged.

Geto sighed. "You royally fucked up Gojo Satoru."

"No, really?" sarcasm dripped from his words. "I still think I did nothing wrong. She has no right to aks me to spend less time with you."

"She does actually. She's your girlfriend of what, three years?"

Gojo nodded.

"Three years and yet you place her beneath a best friend. How would you feel like if she had to choose between her best friend and you and she went for the friend?"

Suddenly, Gojo looked like it finally hit him. "I'd feel...terrible," he sat down on the chair. "But... but I didn't tell her I would choose you. Both of you mean so much to me."

"On the same level or a different one? Satoru, understand that the love for a friend and a love for a lover are two separate kinds of love. You not being able to distinguish between them caused you to be in this mess."

Geto walked over to where Gojo sat and towere over him. He put a reassuring hand on his wide back. "Let me ask you this: what do you want right now? To be with her?"

Gojo stayed silent. He didn' know what he wanted. He hated the fact that he can't have both a friend and a lover. Choosing one would mean losing the other in Gojo's eyes. He can't afford that. Not when both of his most treasured people made him so happy.

Geto took his silence as a no. "You know what I think? You didn't want to have her. You just wanted others to see you have her."

His words cut like a knife. Why? Why do his loved ones have to be this cruel? He only looked up from the floor to his best friends almost black eyes. His own baby blues were watery. A lump took place in his throat. With a horror he realised how weak he feels. One half of him already packed her things and walked away, he can't let the other half do the same.

"Do you hate me now?" He whispered, affraid if he will speak any louder he would cry.

Geto took a while. Then shook his head. "No Satoru, just dissapointed."

Gojo nodded and looked back down to the floor.

Few minutes passed. None of them said anything. After Gojo was completely sure he won't fall apart he spoke up. "Do you think I can fix this?"

"Hmm," Geto hummed and pulled out a chair to sit opposite him. "Fixing means returning to its original state. I don't think things will go back to normal."

"But, I don't want to lose her. I know I don't!"

"Then you must set your priorities straight."

"But-" Gojo looked into Geto's eyes again. "That would mean I will loose you and that's equally as bad."

Geto shook his head. "You won't loose me. I'll still be here. You can still come over and we can still hang out. It just won't be like before."

"And that's what I don't want," Gojo mumbled and crossed his arms again while leaning into the backrest.

"Truthfully, if I had a girlfriend as amazing as Y/N I would spend a lot of time with her and not you."

Gojo swore he could feel his heart crack. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, "that it's only natural to pick your lover over your friends. Not always, of course, but often enough."

Geto lifted his head to see his friend pale as a ghost, his skintone could now rival with his hair. He immediatelly regreted what he said. "But as I said, even if that was the case, even if you chose her as your top priority, which you should've as a good boyfriend, then it wouldn't mean I would cease to exist. And if I get someone in the future and I do the same you won't cease to exist to me either. You are my best friend, Satoru," he placed a hand on Gojo's shoulder, "and no girl will ever change that."

Gojo's ocean blue eyes let some tears slipped. He realized that his best friend is right, as always. Geto will always be there. And sure, even after he gets busy in his own life and won't have time for Gojo and his antics anymore, that wouldn't mean they would change into strangers to one another.

Gojo quickly wiped his tears and nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't want tk fix this. I want to evolve this. I want her back. I want to learn to love her again. Properly this time."

"You sure about that?"

Gojo nodded.

"Even after she won't forgive you?"

"Why wouldn't she? She's smart. She will understand. Besides, how can you rehect the best man in the world?" He forced out a chuckle.

Geto shook his head. "Arrogant and full of yourself as always."

"Yeah, what can you do..."

Geto's phone buzzed again. But this time nkt from a phone call but a message. Geto took out his phone, gave it a short glance and put it back into his pocket.

"Was it Shoko?"

Geto shook his head. "Just my reminder. Me and Shoko planned to go see a movie."

"Oh, is that what you talked about canceling?"

Geto nodded. "Y/N knocked on her door and asked to stay a few days. From what Shoko told me she was a mess."

Gojo slumped forward on his chair and hid his face in his hands. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

Geto hummed. "Do you know what this is callled? Consequences. Hurts, doesn't it?"

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Simon "Ghost" Riley: An enemy of Simon's harms you, forcing Simon to make a tough decision. (wc: 315) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Kyle decides there is only one way to keep you close. (wc: 323) John Price: Price worries after you tell him you're pregnant when the first pregnancy had complications. (wc: 329) John "Soap" MacTavish: Johnny learns that falling in love with a teammate can only lead to sorrow. (wc: 542)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

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[mypoisonedvine]

dark dilf delinquent season cillian lusting after the new neighbors daughter; who not so coincidentally has a penchant for undressing with her curtains open 🫣 & sneaking in guys who kinda (definitely) maybe resemble cillian? from her club nights 😭

he’s dark & like kinda pathetic but we love him anyway

i feel like this is too specific but I can’t get the thought out of my head 🥲

it is very specific but I'm not mad, and I love writing a pervert <3 but a dilf AND a pervert?! yes please!! obviously I love this concept cause I went a liiiiitle overboard with it, oops...

𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 | neighbor!reader x dilf!cillian

length: 3.3k

warnings: m and f masturbation, voyeurism, slightly dark but not very much, unspecified age gap, infidelity

When it first started, he really was just trying to read. It wasn't his fault that the book was boring, or that your curtains were open, or that he caught a glance of you in your window.

It was innocent then, too— he liked watching you do normal things, like put on jewelry or laugh on the phone with a friend. It made him smile... he wasn't sure why, but it just made him feel a little better after a long day, seeing you up there, reminiscing on his younger days as he got a distant view of yours...

But it had been months since it started, and it was far from innocent now. He'd become an expert at compartmentalizing the shame; he'd become addicted to the cycle, to the watching and the waiting and the sick anticipation— not to mention the fear that someday, you'd notice him watching. The fear, and yet, the hope.

"Fuck," he panted under his breath as he wanked himself— not too fast yet, but certainly much faster than the slow and teasing strokes he liked to start off with. You were taking off your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding your arms in that crazy origami way girls do that he'd never totally understood; he bit his lip as his eyes dragged over your back, trying to imagine how it would feel to run his fingers up your spine until you arched it just right—

He heard the kids yell downstairs and he stopped for a second, heart pounding with nervousness as he feared they might come up and knock at the door. He used to only do this when they were gone... but he couldn't pass up an opportunity like this, a perfect view of you stripping in the window.

The noises stopped and his movements started again, fisting his cock with a stifled groan as you reached behind your back and undid the clasp; even having seen your tits probably a dozen times by now, his mouth was slack and dry in anticipation of you turning around and letting him see them again.

You teased him for a while longer, messing with your hair and stretching your arms up until he found himself mumbling between panting breaths: c'mon, baby, show me— lemme see, sweetheart, fuck, please...

Sort of like willing a stoplight to turn green, it's obviously not possible but it will work at some point: you turned and faced the window, your eyes shut with a sigh as you started to open your jeans. He had to grip his cock's leaking head tight just then, too overwhelmed with the view of your breasts— he was afraid to come too soon.

He'd never had to hold himself back like this before, never delayed his gratification— because, normally, it's totally antithetical to the point of masturbation. He only ever jerked off for the gratification, and he only ever watched porn to help get there a little faster... but you, you were so much better than porn. The thrill of doing something wrong, the longing of knowing you (if not very well) in real life, the lack of control over you and being, in a sense, at your mercy as you undressed as slow as you wanted... it was all just terribly erotic. And he refused to let himself come until you let him see a little more.

You slid your jeans down your legs and he actually bit his lip, just to muffle his moan. "Yes," he whispered to himself, cock pulsing in his grip as he watched you step out of them, turning around to lay them over your bed— and giving him the perfect view of your ass in those cute cotton panties as you did it. "Fuck," he grunted, twisting his hand over his tip and feeling his hips jerk instinctively— he couldn't think of the last time he was so sensitive. "See what you do to me?" he chuckled to himself— he wished you could see it, but then again, he had his lights off in the room for a reason. All you could see was a dark window, and for now, he preferred to keep it that way.

You laid back on your bed, looking relaxed and contented as you ran your hand down over yourself— fuck, is she about to--?

You slipped your hand into your panties, and he tilted his head back with a heavy sigh, only allowing himself a second to shut his eyes as his balls tightened up, threatening to blow it all right then and there. He'd never actually seen you touch yourself before— though he had seen you take a vibrator out of your bedside drawer and, infuriatingly, go to take a shower where you presumably got to use it with complete privacy. The image in his head had been plenty to get off on that night, but seeing you now as your fingers moved under the thin fabric, your lips opening for what he hoped was a quiet little moan? It was almost too much to bear.

You spread your legs a bit, the angle giving him a hint of a view of what you were doing; he sat up in the chair, leaning to the side a bit, desperate for a better look at how you were touching yourself. Were you just rubbing your clit, or were you going to put a finger or two inside? "Baby," he panted to himself, watching your tits get harder as your hand moved, "baby... y-yeah, just like that, fuck..."

The sight of you playing with yourself was just too beautiful; he had to keep reminding himself to shut his mouth so he wouldn’t make too much noise, but then it would just fall right back open again as you arched your back.  

“Feels good?” he noticed, raking his gaze over every sign of your pleasure.  “Tell me how good it feels…”

He wanted to imagine your voice, then, the way you’d respond to him: feels so good, Cill.  You’d never actually called him that, you always called him Mr. Murphy.  He tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, but anyways, he couldn’t conjure your voice in his head anyways.  He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since you’d babysat for him and his wife… he tried not to acknowledge how much that turned him on, either.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you took your hand out of your panties and expanded your cheeks with a big sigh; he knit his eyebrows together, watching you roll over and grab your phone off of the nightstand by your bed.  His sicker side instantly assumed you were going to find some porn to watch, but your lackadaisical attitude about the whole thing made it seem more like you’d had a sudden mid-masturbation urge to check Instagram.  Kids and their phones, he thought to himself, even though you were far from a kid— he was just much, much further from one than you were, is all…

And, this should come as no surprise by now… that turned him on too.  He’d come to be weirdly fascinated by his own perversion, finding it just as shameful as he did sexy.

His phone vibrated on the desk and his screen lit up— he wasn't going to answer it at first, nothing was more important than watching you right now... but then it went off again. He looked at it and back at you, seeing you getting up suddenly and walking around the room... surely you hadn't come already? It certainly didn't look like it.

Even though he couldn't imagine why you'd stopped so abruptly, he figured it was a good opportunity to make sure the messages weren't important. He awkwardly got up and grabbed his phone, feeling a bit strange about walking around with his jeans open and his erection poking out. Unlocking his phone to read whatever was sent, he felt a massive sigh leave his chest as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

He never even saved your number, but he recognized the previous conversation you'd had-- just a few texts back and forth about a little backyard gathering your parents were having, and some question about when you needed to come over to watch the kids, but you usually messaged his wife about that kind of stuff.  But since he’d committed those brief conversations to memory, it took him only a split-second to know it was you— and, obviously, seeing that you'd just texted him, he thought his heart might just stop right then.  He had to blink some blurriness out of his vision to even read them, with how fast the damn thing was beating.

hi mr. murphy.

turn on the lamp on the desk.

He whipped his head around to look back at you, only to find you smiling around a bitten lower lip, staring right into his window.  Fuck.  Fuck!

He set his phone down, not sure what to do— and quickly locking the screen as he realized you’d probably seen the glow of it.  He groaned softly again as he watched you sit down on your bed again, facing directly towards him, those pretty legs spreading nice and slow as your hand moved over your panties again.  Fuck.

He felt like he was in a dream or something as he flipped on the lamp— maybe it was an out of body experience.  If he was out of his own body, he at least knew whose he wanted to get into: he never took his eyes off you as he slowly walked back to his chair, sitting back down in it and meeting your half-lidded gaze as you tossed your phone away and used your free hand to toy with one of your hard nipples.  “Fuck,” he said aloud this time, seeing your eyes trail down to his cock— it was still out, of course, sticking up proudly against the black shirt covering his stomach.  Maybe it was proud, but he was a little bit terrified, his face getting hot as he snatched the throw pillow nearby to cover himself with; he saw you laugh, sighing through his nose dreamily as he wished he could hear the sweet sound of it, and then shake your head with a grin.

You stood up then, turning around and bending over as you ever-so-slowly pulled your panties down, making him purr as he got a thorough look at your bare ass.  You looked too damn good bent over like that— what he would give to stand behind you, pushing your shoulders down with one hand as he gave that cute arse a good spank with the other—

He saw you looking back at him, a proud smirk on your face; “Dirty girl,” he scolded under his breath, watching you stand up straight and sit on the bed again.

Your legs were pressed tightly together, and when he look up to your eyes, he found them focusing on the pillow in his lap; you met his gaze again, a pink tongue darting gently over your lips.  A silent promise: I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.  With the way it made his heart pound and his palms clammy, he felt like a schoolboy all over again.

He grabbed the pillow and slowly moved it away, your legs opening at the same pace in perfect time with it; he groaned through a tight jaw as he stared at your pussy, one of your hands running down to spread the sticky lips even wider for him.  “Fuck,” he moaned, holding onto his cock tightly again as he felt totally helpless to the sight of it, unable to look away.  “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled, starting to stroke himself as you bit your lip again and rubbed your clit with two fingers— the nails still had that baby pink polish, the one he’d watched you paint on a few nights ago.  Why was something as simple as that so sexy?

Your mouth fell open, and your head tilted back; he tried to imagine how you’d sound, your sweet voice a little darker and deeper with pleasure.  You rubbed yourself a little faster, a little harder, and he felt his lips curl into a sneer.

“Good girl, like that,” he panted, “play with it for me.  Play with that cute little cunt— f-fuck, yes—”

You looked at him again, eyes glued to his cock, and he felt it flex in his grip as if it wanted to wave to you; he saw you smile, an oddly sweet smile for something so dirty, and he watched your fingers slide down to your tiny, seeping opening.  He nodded in encouragement, watching your face fall into a shockingly innocent gasp as you slid a finger into yourself.

“Yes, baby,” he moaned, “y-yeah, s’it warm inside, sweetheart?  Bet you’re so fucking tight, baby, I know your pussy is so goddamn tight—”

You pumped the single finger in and out, head falling back for a moment, and he squeezed his cock tight again to try to hold back another close call— he’d feel pretty stupid coming so fast with you watching, but he’d been doing this a lot longer than you had… fuck, how long had you known he was watching you?

Your mouth opened wider as you pushed another finger into yourself, and his hips shifted roughly in the chair, his hand moving faster as he growled.  “Fuck, it’s not enough, is it?” he hissed.  “Two little fingers isn’t enough— you need my cock, fuck, you need my fuckin’ cock— I’d fill you so good, sweetheart, I’d be so fuckin’ deep inside you—”

He was almost bucking up into his own hand now, his whole body suddenly pulsing with energy— it was a good thing you weren’t here now, even if he wanted it more than anything: he would’ve treated you awfully if he could’ve gotten his hands on you, fucking you hard and rough, tossing you around, pinning you down… he needed you so bad, he couldn’t imagine having the patience for anything but one of those nasty, fast, rough, animalistic fucks.  He’d fucking ruin you right now, if he could.

You were rough about it, too— roughly pinching and tugging on your tits, roughly fucking yourself on your fingers… you even pulled your hand out and gave your clit a little smack at one point, and he choked on his loudest moan yet as your body jolted.

“Dirty fucking slut,” he growled, “fuck, come for me.  Please, baby, I need to come, I need to fuckin’ come—”

You were saying something, obviously he couldn’t hear a damn word of it, but the shape of your lips made him pretty damn sure you were chanting over and over: yes, yes, yes—

“Come, baby,” he begged, knowing he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, “let me see— show me how you come, sweetheart, show me that pretty face when you come on your fucking fingers— soak them, honey, come for me—”

You were shaking all over, legs quivering and tits bouncing with the force of it— you pulled your fingers out and he could fucking see it, see that cute little hole flexing, and obviously he was done for pretty much instantly.  He moaned roughly as hot ropes of come painted his shirt, rolled down his shaft and shaking fingers, one drop even finding its way down his balls which was sort of pleasantly ticklish…

You looked so gorgeous coming like that, your hand and pussy all shiny with your arousal, your eyes heavy and your lips swollen from all the biting… he blinked quickly as he tried to catch his breath, letting go of his slowly-softening cock and leaning back into the chair.  You smiled at him; funny how, even now, that could make his heart skip.  He watched you stand up and wiggle your fingers in a cute little wave at him as you approached the window, and his tired smile fell quickly when you reached for the curtains.  “N-no, don’t go,” he pleaded softly, leaning forward as if he could stop you somehow, “please, wait—”

You slid them shut suddenly, and he whined a little as he fell back into the chair, running his (clean) hand over his face as he contemplated what he’d just done.  When his phone vibrated again, he jumped up to grab it, but frowned in disappointment when he saw it was from his wife.  Be home in a few, please come help with the groceries.

He tried to type a quick reply, only to grimace when he realized how filthy his hand was.  He wiped it off on his shirt— but his shirt was filthy, too.  Sighing, he set the phone down and took the whole thing off, balling it up to toss into the hamper, leaving him in just his undershirt.

Going straight back to his phone, he opened the conversation with you, praying to see that little grey bubble pop up or something; he started to type a few times, things like will I see you tomorrow? or come over next time the house is empty, but he always felt like an idiot and ended up erasing it.  He didn’t get a chance to think of a good thing to send before he heard a car pulling up in the driveway.  Shoving the phone in his pocket, he sighed and made his way downstairs, navigating around the pillow fort in the living room to get out the front door.

“Just help me with the bags in the boot, will you?” she asked him, not even looking at him, as she rifled through whatever was in the backseat.  He opened it, sighing as he looked at them.  Nothing like a bunch of brown bags to bring you back to reality.

His eyes widened when he heard his wife say your name, and he poked his head around the car to see you standing there, wearing a zip-up and leggings.  “Good evening, Mrs. Murphy,” you smiled, and he figured he looked like a deer in the headlights— if a deer could hold a paper sack full of pasta and biscuits— as your gaze fell on him.  “Hi, Mr. Murphy.”

He opened his mouth to try to respond, but nothing really came out; “Looks like you’re going for a run,” his wife noticed, saving him for the time being as your attention turned to her again. 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “figured I could use some exercise.”

He cleared his throat, just a way to try to fight the lump forming in it, but it unintentionally caused both women to look at him again— once again, he found himself uselessly floundering for a response, and only getting out a soft ‘er’ before you said something.

“Aren’t you cold in just a t-shirt, Mr. Murphy?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“It’s fine,” he choked out, “I was feeling kind of hot anyway.”

You smiled at him, then waved goodbye to his wife as you pushed your earbuds in and continued walking down the street— you were acting so innocent that he started to feel like he’d dreamed up the whole thing.  

She probably saw him staring, watching you jog down the sidewalk, that ass looking terribly familiar covered by the athletic leggings; but she didn’t say anything, only shutting the car boot to get his attention as he finally carried the paper sacks into the house.  "She's sweet, isn't she?" she broke the moment of silence as they walked up the driveway together.

“I-I guess,” he tried to sound as non-committal as possible.

“You don’t think so?” she pressed, apparently noticing his cryptic answer.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe she’s not as sweet as she looks.”

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Hi! Do you think you can write something for Donatello? Maybe the reader wakes up and he's in bed for once and its very soft

Serenity | Donatello

hi! of course i can! you didn't specify what version of donnie you wanted so i went with bayverse because i'm kind of on a roll with that iteration atm so... also there is a severe lack of bayverse donnie gifs

warnings: nothing really. suggestive? subtle morse code that isn't explicitly mentioned... which isn't a warning unless you consider morse code scandalous? everyone is 18+!!! also there's like no proofreading so reading is always at your own risk but if you ever notice any, please do point out any spelling/grammar etc. errors!

summary: you wake up before donnie who's actually in bed (it's a miracle)

word count: 859

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first thing you hear is the distant whirring of technology. You don’t bother to open your eyes as you shift your hips ever so slightly to seek a more comfortable position now that you’re slowly gaining consciousness. Pausing your lethargic movements, you become keenly aware of the heavy and solid weight curled around you that most definitely hadn’t been there when you first fell asleep. You breathe in deep. A musty scent of oil and sweat and something you’re sure isn’t pleasant hits you. It’s so him that you don’t even wrinkle your nose. Instead, you reach out a hand and find his skin.

You can feel him breathing like this. It’s slow and steady and your heart feels like bursting. You press closer and your lips smile against the swell of his arm. A few soft kisses won’t wake him, you decide, pressing them gently over his scales. He doesn’t stir as you link your fingers with his. His arm is heavy with muscle, but you manage to lift the dead weight to your mouth, breathing the softest of kisses all over the flesh. It’s so different and so much bigger than your own but your hands fit together perfectly. You open your eyes, only a little blearily, and you imagine the silliest heart emojis that replace them as you stare in quiet reverence.

He’s so perfect it hurts. He’s snoring quietly, more of a whistle really, and his mouth is open with his glasses askew. He looks so cosy and dorky and unbelievably Donnie that you have to stifle a lovesick giggle. He looks both serene and tired at the same time and you can’t believe he actually came to bed of his own volition. Getting him to bed is a Herculean effort at the best of times, for him to sleep – in an actual bed – without your nagging insistence and underhand tricks is nothing short of a miracle. He’s still wearing his suspenders too and you think, a little wryly, that perhaps he was more tired than even he realised.

Your hand cups his face and you rub your thumb over his jaw, in awe at the man beneath your palm and feeling a little silly over how emotional you're being. His face twitches and you pause your ministrations, holding your breath. You don’t want to wake him; he must’ve been exhausted and you’re not sure how long he’s been asleep beside you. He continues to sleep, and you breathe again, this time pressing your lips to his neck. 

I love you, you mouth against his skin. I love you so much. He must feel it, whether he feels you physically or as deep in his being as you feel him, because he churrs softly and it makes your eyes burn. God, you’re so in love. You’ve been in love with him for so long you can’t remember what it felt like before he came into your life. You’re not really sure what’s coming over you this morning (is it morning? It’s not like you can see the sunrise like this) but as your lips tremble you find that you don’t mind. Donnie deserves to be loved like this, wholly and reverently, and you vow, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, to love him like this forever. 

You’re not sure how long you stay like that. The position isn’t the most comfortable and you can feel the pain in your neck that runs along your spine, but you can’t bring yourself to move. You want this moment to last as long as it possibly can and you’re thankful that the Lair is peaceful for once. There are no noises to indicate any of the others are up and you hope it stays that way, just for a while longer.

Your wish is almost immediately denied as you hear a crash and brazen laughter that can only belong to Mikey (followed, of course, by an annoyed bellow that can only belong to Raph) and you can’t help the quiet snort even as the turtle beside you is disturbed from his slumber.

Donnie shifts and his snout is buried in your neck as he inhales, and you’re only given a few seconds to mourn the loss of his sleeping state (he really needs to sleep more) before he kisses your fluttering pulse, and you sigh in pleasure. His hand – the one you’re not keeping hostage still – grips your bare thigh and you push yourself closer as his teeth graze the sensitive skin along the column of your throat. He doesn’t speak, choosing instead to tap a message along your skin as his hands caress upwards. I love you too.

You smile so wide it hurts your jaw. “You’re such a nerd,” you whisper, your voice thick and huskier than usual. He just brings his teeth together again, leaving little teasing bites, and taps your inner thigh once more. You shudder slightly and acquiesce his request, spreading your legs further for him and letting him rub higher and higher.

The two of you stay in bed until the afternoon.

[emjiroki]

Pool Boy Yuuta Okkotsu x Lonely Housewife Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Infidelity, exhibitionism (outside), Yuuta is the lonely housewife slayer fight me

A/N: I'm back babies with Pool boy Yuuta for the lovely Wet Hot Slimeball summer block party collab event! My prompt was 'Humid' so I hope I captured the theme and everyone enjoys! @bastardblvd (look at Yuuta holding the pool skimmer! Im pretty proud of my editing skills)

Collab Masterlist

likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated

‘God they need to do something about this global warming shit’ You thought as the sun beat down. It had been storming over the last week in Grimetown so the humidity was intense; thick like you were being compressed and forced to breathe the water evaporating from the ground. And with the storms came strong winds, knocking small branches and a whole heap of leaves into the once pristine blue water of your pool. You had made plans to clean it out…soon, maybe ask that big man that stole your package and stuffed that block party flier in your mailbox to fix it, had really planned to ask your husband to do it before he left for two weeks on a “business trip”. It would be comical to believe that these trips were for business at this point, your husband coming home one too many times smelling of perfume that wasn’t the scent you wore. Something cheap and cloying that set a stone in your stomach. But you liked your life, all your bills were paid and your husband still treated you like you were his world, why bother rocking the boat over some whore? He’ll get bored with her eventually and come crawling back, take you on some big vacation as a secret sorry and it’ll be done with.

So here you were lounging on one of your pool chaises trying and failing to read your book with your brain a frenzy of thoughts when you vaguely heard a knock on the gate. You pulled on the slipcover for your bikini and went to open the hefty latch to the privacy fence. The sudden heat to your skin wasn’t from the sun beating down or the suffocating humidity, but most certainly from the man in front of you with a pool skimmer propped up on his shoulder. 

“I’m Yuuta Okkotsu from Grimetown Pool and Landscaping, sorry for the intrusion but I tried the front door and no one answered”. He seemed about your age, maybe a year or two younger, with sweet dark eyes and a handsomely cut jaw. Obviously fit under the company t-shirt that hugged his body. You bit your cheek slightly to try and keep your thoughts in check and not written across your face as you extended your hand to his to shake and introduced yourself. 

“I’m guessing you’re the poor soul that they sent to come clean my disaster of pool?” You asked opening the gate a bit wider for him.

“That’s what was on my schedule for today ma’am,” He said with a sheepish smile as he fumbled to close the gate latch behind him and followed you over to the poolside.

“And in this humidity too? Yikes,” You empathized, taking a discarded magazine from the table and fanning yourself as he surveyed the mess. 

“This will probably take a day or two to clean out and get balanced again,” Yuuta said with a determined look set on his face. 

“Please, take all the time you need” You requested, pulling the slip from your bikini off, “I’m assuming the husband will just write a check for whatever”. 

“R-Right, of course” He stammered, a rosy hue to his cheeks as he not so subtly looked you up and down. But he didn’t look away from your gaze when you made eye contact, going so far as to take a small step forward. You gave him a soft alluring smile before slipping your sunglasses on and lounging back in your chair.

“This humidity is a killer, let me know if you need anything” You commented as he pulled his phone from his pocket, assumedly to call his boss and tell them the plan.

“Oh I will, don’t worry,” He said with a lowkey promise in his tone that had you clenching. 

♡

An hour or two passed as he pulled out branches and skimmed the pool, the humidity absolutely baring down and making the air thick. You were glad for the sunglasses because you couldn’t help but stare when he stripped off his shirt. Sweat ran down his neck to the dip in his collarbones before rolling down his chest and chiseled abdomen, your eyes tracing the wet path down as you unconsciously clenched your legs together. You reached for your drink and realized the glass was empty, the ice slowly melting at the bottom.

“Yuuta, would you like a drink? Take a break in the a/c for a minute?” You called over as you gather your stuff to head back inside away from this killer heat. 

“Sure that would be great” He replied, pulling the skimmer from the water and setting it aside before quickly following you as you lead him in through the back door to the kitchen. The cool was a relief from the stagnant heat hovering around outside, Yuuta gratefully taking the towel you handed him and wiped his face and neck. 

“Water? Lemonade?” You asked as you opened the refrigerator, pulling the pitcher out and refilling your own glass.

“Lemonade is great, thanks” He huffed as he sat back in one of the bar chairs, pushing his damp black hair back away from his face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t ogle for a moment, quickly turning away when looked up at you and filled the glass you pulled down for him. He said thank you again as you handed it to him, watching as he took a few big gulps of the cold liquid, his Adam's apple bobbing as he drank greedily. 

“You know Yuuta, I really wish my husband had a job like yours,” You commented, taking the seat next to him.

“Oh? And why’s that?” He asked, surprise in his tone but something curious and almost heated sparkling in his dark eyes. Damn, how could he be this pretty?

“Well, he’s always gone and I think the finance industry is making him dishonest” You admitted, casually messing with your discarded sunglasses on the island. The worst has already happened, at this point, you didn’t care about throwing yourself out there as you gently touched his fingers resting next to yours. 

“I’d be dishonest too if I got a house like this and a wife like you” He commented, a rosy hue to his cheeks though he didn't pull his hand away when you expected him to. 

“But the house is always so empty, it's lonely here… all by myself,” You said tracing one of your manicured nails up his hand to his forearm, goosebumps breaking across his skin, “He gives me everything I want but nothing that I need”. Yuuta turned slightly, leaning in close enough that a gasp escaped you, his dark eyes swimming with something you wanted to be devoured by.

“And what is it that you need?” He murmured, his lips close enough that you would only have to lean in an inch or two to feel them against yours, “Love? Good dick?”. It felt as if someone had lit a fire in your cheeks and it was rapidly traveling to the spot between your legs, your breath not filling your lungs anymore as his hand moved to your bare thigh. Your hands were shaking as you tried to take a drink from your glass, a small splash of lemonade running down your mouth to your chest. You squeaked out a soft moan when you felt his warm tongue against your skin, his mouth following the sour liquid down to the curve of your breast and sucking lightly in a soft kiss. Gripping his arms to keep yourself steady, he smiled up at you, that seemingly innocent shy boy smile from earlier. “Is that a yes?”.

♡

“Yuuta! Fuck!” You cried as he bottomed out inside of you for what seemed like the hundredth time today, you both barely able to get out of your bed this morning.

“You really never get tired do you?” He said with a chuckle, hissing as your walls squeezed around him, “Can’t even get my job done”. He’s right, hadn’t even gotten the chemicals ready for the pool before he was spread on the chaise lounge for you again, your thong bikini shredded by his eager hands and thrown somewhere in the yard. You were both slick with sweat from the heat, humidity ever present as you devoured each other for your neighbors on both sides to hear. His hands were rough against your ass as he squeezed and help you along to take his length, your hands on his sweaty chest as you bounced, spearing yourself on him again and again like you were possessed. 

“You’re just… so good” You moaned as he pulled you down to press against him, nipping his teeth across your throat and thrusting up into you. 

“Oh, you’re so good too beautiful, so fucking hot” He groaned, feeling your slick leaking out and running down to coat his balls in creamy white. He was so deep inside, carving out a place only his cock could satisfy, rutting into your soft walls like an animal. You couldn’t get enough as you moved your hips against his, his hand going up to wipe the drool from your lips as you fell apart.

“With a pussy like this I might just get obsessed,” He said his voice turning to a growl as you raised up again, his dark eyes seeming to grow darker as he watched your breasts bounce and the sweat rolling down your skin. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”. You nodded, groaning out a soft yes as the flames of your climax licked up your spine, your brain foggy with the heat and the pleasure buzzing through your bloodstream. If only your “husband” could see you right now, being ravaged into a puddle in this primal humidity.As if he heard your thoughts, your phone began to ring. You didn’t think to pick up, only looked when you saw Yuuta’s hand move. His hand wrapped around it, squeezing the volume button until it buzzed on silent, flipping it over. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you down to lay against his chest again, practically growling as he pressed your face to his throat and fucked so deep into you you could feel him battering your cervix. The sound that broke from your lips as you creamed around his cock was something you hadn’t heard before, breathy and wild.

“That’s right baby, cum on my cock as much as you want” He panted, his hands running soothingly up your back despite him still hammering into your sensitive pussy, “I’m your husband now, I’ll make him disappear and you'll be all mine won't you?”.

[yumeka-sxf]

I try to stay away from negative topics, but after hearing talk on social media yesterday and seeing this post from @such-a-downer, I just had to give my two cents about the complaints regarding yesterday's chapter being "another short mission" and that Endo is somehow being "lazy" or whatever.

I honestly don't understand this mentality of criticizing manga-ka, or any artists really, because they aren't delivering by whatever standards you personally think are appropriate. To me, it just seems like entitlement because Endo has no obligation to cater to any specific fan's wants. This is his story to tell the way he wants, and his characters to develop at the pace he deems fit. This isn't a business contract where we're paying him to deliver content we want every two weeks without fail. If I'm consuming the fruits of someone's creative labor for free, I certainly feel no right to complain if sometimes their content isn't what I wanted or expected. I'm fine with that because 1) I know it's what they (the creator) wanted/needed at the time, and 2) even if a particular chapter wasn't my cup of tea, I know other fellow fans out there somewhere are enjoying the heck out of it, and that's cool!

We also have to remember that SxF is basically a one-man show. If Endo is busy or sick or whatever, it's not like he can have someone fill in for him to write and draw the series. That's what a hiatus is for, that's what making a short chapter instead of a longer one is for...that's how artists should be treated so they don't get burned out and stressed. Plus, art shouldn't be rushed. Any artist knows that there are times when you have trouble coming up with ideas and maybe need a little extra time to develop a more complex section of the story. To immediately jump to conclusions that he's lazy or doesn't know what he's doing is ridiculous. Maybe he didn't feel good for a few days, maybe he's been busy with other SxF events, maybe he just needed more time to get a particular future arc developed, or maybe he just has basic IRL obligations to take care of like we all do...you don't know what's going on in his life, so don't make assumptions.

Another thing to keep in mind is that it's literally impossible to please every fan. One of the comments I read for example, someone was ready to drop the series because we haven't seen much of Yor in "a while." All I could think of was "didn't she just have a pretty big role only four chapters ago when they went to the ski resort?" Plus she was the star of chapter 91, which was less than ten chapters ago. So according to this person's standards, four chapters without seeing a particular character is "too long"? What if it was only three chapters, would that be acceptable? It's not right to push our own personal standards of a series' pacing as the "correct" way: some people want to see more of character X while someone else wants to see more of subplot Y, so should both complain that the manga-ka isn't doing right whenever they focus on something else? I'm not saying you shouldn't make criticisms of a manga-ka's work, but the criticisms should come from within the narrative itself, not superficial things like chapters focusing on subplots/characters you don't want to see or not having enough "plot-advancing" content when it's not a plot-focused series.

People who have read SxF up to this point should know the general flow of the chapters: mostly slice-of-life episodic, with more plot-heavy, intense arcs once in a while, like the cruise arc and bus arc. It's an ensemble series that spends most of its chapters focused on at least one of the Forgers, but occasionally other characters here and there. That's how the series has been for years and will likely continue to be. So if you keep complaining because you only like the dramatic story arcs and not the "nothing happens" episodic chapters, then maybe the series just isn't for you. It's totally fine if that's the case, but don't act like Endo is doing something wrong because he's not providing the particular thing you want in his story.

To summarize, Endo has no obligation to cater to particular fans' standards, just as we have no obligation to keep reading his work if we don't like it. But being a fan to me means respecting the creator's pace and vision even if it's not always what I personally want. I can find something to enjoy in every chapter because I'm a fan of SxF, not a fan of one particular aspect of it. But I also will not complain every time my tastes aren't being catered to and will simply occupy myself with other things while I wait. What's the big hurry, after all? I'm in no rush for SxF to wrap up its plot and I'm glad Endo isn't rushing either.

And that's all I'm gonna say about this topic, lol. On a happier note, I'm going to finally see Code White on Thursday! 😁 More to come later~

[romanticintheory]

on my knees BEGGING for more price and civilian!reader. i just read it and i can’t stop thinking about all the cute itty bitty interactions- their date, their convos, maybe him meeting her surprisingly scary dog (currently in love thinking about COD men and K9s yknow?).

Like if there’s not a single supporter for this, i’m dead in a ditch somewhere

what it's like dating john price as a civilian.

john price x gn!reader

part 1

more fluff, more domesticity, me being down bad

a/n: KSAHDASDKJ im so glad u love them as much as i do!! hope this does them justice for u <3

-

the date went really well, thankfully. he showed up at your place ready to pick you up with the bouquet of flowers he knew you deserved. call him old-fashioned, but he was adamant on making sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything.

hell, he even asked you why you were standing out there in the cold by yourself, saying, "i could have come to your door so you didn't have to freeze all the way out here, sweetheart!"

he held out his hand for you to take as he guided you down the stairs, opened your side of the door for the car, and always walked with you on the side closest to the street.

the movie was a cute action comedy. it was even funnier with john because he'd sometimes pipe up at the action sequences talking about how unrealistic some scenes were.

when you told john that the main character's actor, a built, older-looking man, was used to be your celebrity crush in high school, he couldn't help but let a chuckle rumble in his throat and ask, "got a type then, love?"

"yeah, probably do," you admitted shamelessly.

the dinner was just as nice as the movie: he took you out to a nice restaurant and hung onto every word you spoke. likewise, you couldn't take your eyes off him whenever he told you stories about him and his boys.

he wouldn't tell you stories about him doing his job, mostly because he didn't want to disturb you with what he's had to do. he did, however, happily tell you stories about the ridiculous things he's seen his task force get up to.

"they sound like a handful," you said warmly, "you sure they're not your kids?"

"no, but they certainly sound like it," he leaned just a little bit closer to hear you better over the chatter of the restaurant.

"i get that. i've got a handful at home, too." you paused to take a sip of your drink. "a little puppy."

"really? what's its name?"

when he takes you back home, he wordlessly walks you back to your door.

"would you like to meet beau, john?" you ask, hand hovering over the door you unlocked.

he opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted by the sound of scratching and a dog panting on the other side of the door.

"well, only if he's okay with meeting me."

when you open the door, john is surprised to see a full-grown rottweiler launching at him at full speed. for a second, he saw his life flashing before his eyes before he realized the wagging of beau's tail.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you call out immediately, "he's usually more polite around strangers. beau- beau get down!"

john only laughs at your panic and took your dog's friendliness as a sign to pet him. "'s alright, love. i trust you enough to know you wouldn't put me in harm's way."

he takes in beau's stature. from the looks of his larger-than-average size, he might be a guard dog for you. or maybe you just wanted company and decided to hone in on his scariness and bulk by adding that spiked collar.

"so, a puppy, huh?" he points outed humorously, locking eyes with you after realizing that your canine was, in fact, fully grown.

"hey, he's still a puppy to me!" you interject, kneeling down beside john's crouched figure to also show the rottweiler some affection.

"i see," he nods thoughtfully, turning his attention back to beau. "you're just as gorgeous as your owner, huh?"

your face is on fire again. "you flatter me, john."

"how does the saying go? it's not flattery if it's true?" he stands up much to the disappointment of beau and to take a step closer to you.

"you're too kind."

"jus' trying to treat you like how you deserve."

it's like he's trying to light you aflame on purpose. your embarrassment grows so much you have to cover the smile on your face with your hand. once your face has cooled down, you take a deep breath and let your hand fall down back to your side.

"thank you for tonight," you say quietly. "i had a really good time."

"glad to hear," he replies. "'m also happy to see beau likes me, too."

"well, we both have that in common, i guess."

"oh, who's doing the flattery, now?" john says playfully, his hands on his hips as you laugh softly at him.

"still you!" you insist.

"hm. maybe next time we can figure it out, yeah?" he proposes, a hopeful glint in his eye.

"next time? you already ready for a second date, price?"

oh, he was ready for more, but he didn't think you were ready to hear that.

"unless you're not," he tells you slowly, afraid of pressuring you into saying yes already.

sensing his worry, you reassure him with, "how could i not be?"

he relaxes at your admission and leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek. "i've got your number. next week sound fine to you?"

"of course. whatever you like, soldier," you nodded, the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek leaving a tingling sensation. if you were just a bit more confident, you would have kissed him then and there.

"i'll see you then, love."

he bends down to give beau a well-deserved goodbye pet before turning to leave, looking you in the eyes one last time before leaving for home.

[raineydays411]

My Fathers Daughter pt 11

Okay! so here's part 11 <3

It has been so busy in my life lately, I just started a new job so I'm getting used to that. I'm also thinking of starting a patron? But honestly I don't think I'm good enough to charge people to read my stuff plus I'd feel bad.Idk if thats something I should look into let me know.

Summary: This is basically set up for the more important chapters

You are going crazy.

Like literally insane. You might end up on the news honestly.

These people are driving you insane. And it's so boring! After the initial feeling of anger and resentment passed, and that awkward conversation with Dick you made a decision.

You were going to make the best of this situation. There was no point in wallowing in self pity when you were already there. Just like Jason said, you can let the anger consume you or you can make it work.

You're making it work.

You started out slowly. As much as the thought of just walking out and pretending like everything was normal amuses you, you realize that it may not be the best choice given that you have been surly most of your stay here. So you made a plan.

First you started by waking up early and offering to help Alfred with breakfast. Because of there was anyone you wanted to win over it was him. He was certainly surprised at the offer but didn't turn you down. He had you mixing the pancake batter because the one time he let you try, you ended up burning the pan and the pancake. Hey, you were still a rich kid no matter how independent you were. You also set the table, and while you were doing that everyone started waking up and coming down stairs.

No surprise that Christine was the first one down.

"Y/n!" She says in shock," Good morning! What..what are you doing? Is everything okay?"

You look up from the plates you were setting down, "Uh..yeah, I just..I just wanted to see if Alfred needed any help."

Christine, despite the common consensus, was not a dumb woman by any means. She knows that she has come on wayyy too strongly when it comes to mending her relationship with you. She really couldn't help it, the guilt has been eating her alive. But seeing you here, downstairs talking Alfreds ear off and setting the table, makes her want to take a step back and recalculate her approach. So, instead of loading you with questions and offers to have girl time woth you, she simply beams a bright, genuine smile and says

"I'm glad you did, Alfred tends to overwork himself even though he won't admit it." Smiling when she hears Alfred scoff from the kitchen, " Thank you."

You stare at her. Not really knowing what exactly to say, but you're saved from responding when Tim and Damian come stomping down the stairs, bickering.

"I am telling you only once Timothy, the next time you hog the shower-"

'Damian dude there are like five other bathrooms, why do you insist on using-" "You know that that shower has the best water pressure!"

The arguing ceases when they notice you downstairs.

"Oh, so you're taking to ruining our day before it even begins then" Damian says snidely.

"Oh yeah," You reply, " Nothing makes me get up faster in the morning than the thought of specifically ruining the day of a preschooler."

Damian just tsks and takes a seat. The glares of his mother and butler daring him to make another remark that might scare you off.

Tim just looks at the two of you and flashes you a soft smile saying a quick good morning and takes a seat. He really doesn't know what to do around you. He has a feeling that maybe the two of you can get along, but so far the hostility you harbor towards his mother figure has really put him off you. Logically of course he understands, the history the two of you have is enough to make anyone hate his mothers' actions. But despite that, Christine is his mother. And he's only known you for a few months. he also feels that even if there is bad blood between you and Christine, there is no reason to take it out on his brothers. They didn't directly have a hand in Christines actions. But again, your hard feelings make sense. It was a very complex situation.

Bruce was the last one to come down. He was already dressed in a nice suit and tie, kissing Christine on the cheek and mumbling a quick good morning to the boys. Upon seeing you at the table, he pauses, gives a soft smile and ruffles your hair with a "good morning Y/n, thank you for setting the table." Grabbing his quick breakfast and nodding goodbye.

It leaves you stunned. He acted so casually, as if you've been setting tables here you're whole life. But that might be the one thing you appreciate about Bruce you're entire stay here.

The rare times you would leave your room and be in his presence, he would treat you just as he treated his other children. There was no forced conversations or abrasive and demanding questions. No ill will towards you because of the circumstances. Just Bruce rolling and adapting with the punches.

You guessed that maybe him being Batman, he's probably deducted that you don't like the way everyone (Christine and Dick) has made such a big fuss over you being at the Manor. Or maybe he's just adopted enough kids to know what tactics work and what don't.

Who knows.

Breakfast goes by without too much conversation, except for a few snide remarks from Damian that everyone ignores. And the day goes by pretty slowly. Until night time.

Now, you knew coming to Gotham that it's basically the Crime Capital of America. But actually being in the city watching it from your living room is a whole other story.

Joker is loose in the city causing absolute mania. He has taken over the main hospital, lacing ivs with his poison, causing hundreds of patients to go insane. The screams and manic laughter can be heard from outside the hospital, that is being featured on the news. Just watching through your screen and knowing that you aren't able to get a first person POV is absolutely killing you.

The manor is silent all night. You go downstairs to ask Alfred some questions and he is nowhere to be found. Neither is Christine or Bruce. Damian gone. Tim? nowhere . Dick and Jason not there. The girls are missing as well.

Now, if you were anyone other than Tony Starks daughter, you would find the disappearance of the Wayne family during Jokers terrorist event to be pretty concerning. However you did manage to inherit some of your fathers smarts and managed to deduce that Bruce Wayne was the vigilante Batman and his sons were his sidekick Robin. Honestly you found out a long time ago when you were trying to hack into Wayne enterprises to pull a prank when your father came back from a gala annoyed. But now you were just getting stir crazy.

You were watching as all these innocent people were getting their minds turned on them in their most vulnerable moments. And it seems as if Batman is having a hard time creating an antidote as well as contain the hospital grounds. So you do what you do best and hack into the Batcomputer. You skim through files about previous interactions with the Joker and his venom, noting that this man has been basically let off the hook wayyyy to easily for the atrocities he commits but that none of your business.

You manage to find a pattern when it comes to the way that the Joker creates his venom and the additional components he adds to it to make it more potent. This most recent upgrade, he had to add a certain chemical that wouldn't burn the victims veins upon entry and would quickly affect their minds. There was one chemical that you knew about when you were researching Hydras mind controlling tactics back when you had first met Bucky and wanted to help him. Immediately you realize that it is the same chemical that the Joker must have put into the IVs and rush out to tell somebody.

Only, nobody's in the manor. Amd you have no idea how to reach them.

So, you figure that Bruce must have a "secret lair" of some sort and got exploring. You honestly get lost a couple of times, and come across a grandfather clock, noticing that the time is wrong. You move the hands, hearing a hiss and scraping. You turn and see the staircase behind a bookshelf.

Bingo.

You slowly walk to the door, heart pounding.

Despite being occasionally involved in your fathers infamous superhero lifestyle, you didn't know how Bruce and the others will react to you being upfront about your knowledge of their double life. So far, they have been content on ignoring the fact that you have hinted multiple times about you knowing their secret. Even Jason will redirect conversations if you mention the strange lack of vigilante activity that Gotham was to famous for. For the few months you have been in Gotham, it seems as if anything having to do with the Bat, whether its news articles or reports, has seemed to disappear. And you feel as if it was purposeful.

You were supposed to be laying low, and how can you do that if you throw yourself into the night life.

And now that you are truly seeing the cruelties of said nightlife first hand, you're glad you have been shelter from it. It was one thing to see it on a computer screen, it was another to see it in real time.

You finally reach the bottom of the staircase, slightly out of breath as it really was a long way down and you were rushing. You look around seeing a cave made of limestone. When entering the cave you noticed the musty air usual caves have was not there. Platforms connected to each other as water ran by the sides. You saw a....t rex and a giant penny? As well as many other what you assume is memorabilia from previous fights. Clear cases containing multiple versions of the Batman and robin suits. There were different gadgets and weapons' lining the walls, a training area, a replica hospital area, as well as a freaking platform for the Batmobile.

Honestly it blew your mind that Bruce has enough time ans the resources to make this cave so extravagant. But you guess that thats what rich people tend to--

"Y/n?!"

A panicked voice breaks your train of thought. You look up to see Christine rushing towards you in a panic, " What are you doing down here?! I told them I didn't want you to be in this!"

Excuse me?

"Excuse me? What do you mean you told them?" You said in shock anger starting to slowly simmer in your body.

Before an argument could start, Alfred gave a quick

"Miss Christine, perhaps this isn't the best moment for your overprotective mother routine."

Before he returned to the massive collections of screens that looked like a supercomputer. It was showing the first person povs of what looked like multiple people. And it was bad.

In one screen, someone was trying to pry off what looked like a crazed hospital patient from another one. In another screen, someone was trying to get the non infected patients and doctors safely out of the trashed hospital only to encounter men in clown makeup. The worst one was the screen that was obviously Bruce/Batman, being mercilessly taunted by non other than the Joker clad in a stereotypical doctors outfit. His cruel smile twisting and he menacingly loomed over a woman who was petrified. She was being held down by some of the Jokers' henchmen as he stalked towards her with a syringe filled with a clear unidentified liquid. Batman was fighting a hoard off Jokerfied hospital patients, all crazed with maniacal laughter that sent a chill down your spine. Wide crazed smiles filled every screen you looked at no matter who's point of view it was. It made you a little worried about little Damian. Even if he was a pain, he was a child. There is no way he should've been out there.

Christine pursed her lips at Alfreds remark and nodded, probably setting a mental reminder to lecture you later before heading to a smaller set of computers.

"What are you doing?" You ask following her, wanting to get away from the horrifying scene on the main one.

"I'm trying to find some sort of antidote. Every one we usually use seems to make this one stronger." Christine says grimly. You watched for a bit, wondering how someone could do this to innocent people.

"I think I can help with that." You say, but before you are able to continue your speech, Christine cut you off.

"No. No way. Y/n as your mother I cannot let you get involved in this. No way"

You frown, " What do you mean no? I don't think the lot of you have many options at this point Christine."

"I said no. I am not letting another one of my children get ducked up in this life. Go back upstairs." Christine demanded in a stern voice.

Honestly it made you more amused than scared. She really didn't have the same grip of fear Pepper had when she was angry with you.

"Christine if you would just list--"

"Y/n thats enough! Go back to your room and wait for me up there young lady."

"This isn't some parental disagreement this is life and death i can't stand by and let innocent people die just because you wanna play mommy." You say sternly.

Christine looks visibly hurt by your comment. But she looks back into the screen and says

"My family is out there risking their lives for those innocent people. If your father lets you run around unchecked during his mission then that's on him. I however will not let you endanger the lives of my children and husband as well as what seems like half the freaking population of Gotham. Now GO up stairs."

And with that she turns and heads back to the smaller set of computers and refuses to engage with you until you have no choice but to go back up the million flight of stairs back into the manor, then climb up the other flight leading back into your bedroom.

You were fuming.

You slammed the door upon entering your room and threw a pillow to harshly into the wall.

Hundreds of people might die or become permanently insane because of the stubbornness of one woman.

That's when you hear a chime go off from your desk. You look over to see your laptop.

The same laptop you happened to upgrade with protective features that allowed you to hack into hydra files.

The same laptop that you had used to hack into the Batcomputer. The same computer that was downstair...

With in a beat you wear sat in your desk, logging into your computer. You figured if the people downstair weren't going to listen to you, then maybe the ones in the field will.

You look around for what you think is a link to who you hope is bruce and say a small

"Hello?"

Whoever it was gave a pause, and then says

"Y/n? You finally decided to stop pretending you didn't know huh?

Taglist:

@loxbbg

[basu-shokikita]

About Depths of Humanity

So, I talked about The Duel some time back and I thought, why not do the same for this song too? It's actually one of my underrated faves from Doomstar Requiem.

This more of a rant than a strict analysis though, I just really enjoy thinking about the implications of this song and what it means in regard to Skwisgaar.

Let's start with Ishnifus' warning. He claims that inside lies danger, the ghosts of their pasts and their fears. He cautions them to stay alert and Dethklok brave forward, even if scared.

Inside, they encounter their old manager, old groupies and Skwisgaar's old guitar teacher, in that order. As promised by Ishnifus', they're all people from their past, coming back to haunt them.

Immediately, these people start recriminating Dethklok for not having paid them back after how much they helped them. In short, they're jealous of Dethklok's fame and money.

The band is clearly affected by the plaints, quickly forgetting what they were here to do. Except Skwisgaar, who reminds them all they have to find clues about Toki's whereabouts. It does not seem like they're listening to him, though.

Now up to here, I want to point out 2 things:

That Nathan and Pickles seem the most upset by these confrontations.

That, while Skwisgaar is disturbed, he still has their goal in mind.

About Nathan and Pickles, I think it makes sense, they are the leaders of the band, they're most conscious of its tremendous success. They also know they're extremely talented musicians, meaning, they're aware of their value. They know they're far from being these miserable pricks demanding rewards. Nathan had a nurturing family while Pickles used to be in a huge band, previously to Dethklok. They're both people that have been inherently helped by other people, which is why being confronted is actually uncomfortable.

Skwisgaar is certainly a different case. I have to say, I was pretty surprised to find out that he had a guitar teacher. Based on the flashbacks in Fatherklok, I assumed he had been self taught. Skwisgaar himself has admitted he was pretty poor in his childhood so it's hard to believe Servetta would've invested in his music education. Plus, he can't read music which I think would be hardly the case if he had gotten classes.

But anyway, I'll play along. This teacher is speaking English and he doesn't make any mistakes so I'm guessing he's american. Meaning, Skwisgaar took classes when he went to America, which was later in his life. To strengthen his game and/or learn the technical bits he might have missed before? Maybe? And if this was the case, then Skwisgaar would've felt less obligated to indulge to other people in his life, when he learned to be independent from a really young age. He doesn't feel like he owes shit to other people, because other people didn't give him shit. Thus, the Depths of Humanity effect is not that strong in him.

You could also argue that the loss of Toki is a far more terrifying prospect than these bitter acquaintances from their past but I'll elaborate on that further in this post.

Murderface? Well, Murderface has low esteem and is the less popular member in the band, so of course he can't fall victim to guilt-tripping. Because that would mean acknowledging he feels like he's in a better place than others, it would mean that he actually believes himself superior than others. But he doesn't, Murderface is convinced he's worth nothing, so this whole charade is more grating than anything. Which brings us to the next moment.

The way Murderface is coaxed by the Depths of Humanity crew, is when a seemingly fan approaches him and starts praising him, claiming he's the best one. And then, is when Murderface is hypnotized by the attention. He's already such a negative person, of course more negativity isn't going to get to him. But positivism? That's another deal.

Skwisgaar once again insists that they have to find a clue on how to find Toki but it falls on deaf ears. Nathan is grabbing his head in despair while Pickles clutches his chest in what seems to be an impending panic attack.

Now I really like the wording 'I'll look if you do, too' from Skwisgaar. It almost feels like, even in this situation, he's trying to sound cool about it. He doesn't want to be the only one caring this much about Toki, he doesn't want to be the one leading this operation. He's not a leader, he's never been a leader, even less when it comes to emotional stuff, which is the implicit purpose of this search. They care about Toki, and that's why they're looking for him. But is Skwisgaar seems to be unconsciously rejecting this fact. This attachment.

However, his bandmates aren't listening, too self-absorbed in their anguish to do so. Skwisgaar continues the search and is quick to point out at something on the wall. It's a flyer that he grabs and, immediately, seems to connect the dots about. In an unusual display of leadership, he tells Nathan to grab Murderface so they can leave. Their purpose has been fulfilled and they can finally escape this horrid place.

Okay, so this is my favorite bit, obviously. Once they're outside, Nathan and Pickles keep complaining about what they were just subjected to, and Skwisgaar stops them to show his discovery. It's the same flyer he just grabbed, and it features the place where Toki had his audition. Also known as the place where they all met Toki for the first time and Skwisgaar and him had the legendary duel.

We don't have a precise Dethklok timeline but it's been a long time since Toki joined the band. Several years, at the very least. And this building is nothing but a far away memory, from when they were a lesser band. From when they weren't the big rockstars they are now. So, it really begs to question that not only did Skwisgaar remember the place, but he did so at once, when he hadn't seen or heard of it in years.

...Unless, he had been thinking about it recently?

We know, thanks to the beautiful central section of the movie, that Toki had been thinking of his audition, of joining Dethklok, as a means to cope with the devastating reality he was faced with. We know reminiscing of his dazzling battle with Skwisgaar and the happiness he found within the band gave Toki strength to carry on. But what about Skwisgaar?

For someone who considered himself much better than other guitarists, to the point he didn't want to play with another one, to actually find an equal, someone that challenged him, it couldn't have been anything short of extraordinary for Skwisgaar.

The summit is for the very best only, yet it's quite lonely too, and Skwisgaar had been basking in that isolation his whole life. Until he played with Toki, then the idea of sharing his field no longer felt like an insult, but potential instead. He found someone that could improve his own playing, someone that could compliment his guitar, take it to even higher heights.

And so, Skwisgaar was the one to invite Toki to the band, more specifically, to tell him he wanted him in the band. While we can't factually know how the rest of the members joined Dethklok, we know for sure that Skwisgaar was the sole responsible for making Toki join, as the rest were already bidding him farewell for failing to keep up with Skwisgaar.

So, when the one person that challenged Skwisgaar's playing was taken away, it wouldn't be a stretch for Skwisgaar to look back on how it all happened. To ponder about the circumstances that lead them to the current situation. It's clear the whole band loves Toki and, unable to deal with their own sadness, drank and fucked to oblivion. This also applies to Skwisgaar, except that with him it's especially complex, given that he's the one that brought Toki to his world to begin with. Given that Toki and Skwisgaar share the same instrument. (Fun fact: you don't actually see Skwisgaar fiddling with his guitar in Doomstar Requiem, just puttings dat out theres.)

Obviously, this is a bunch of mumbo-jumbo but as any Pepe-Silvia-scene impersonator that respects themselves, I want to point out how interesting of a coincidence it is that, less than 2 songs later, Skwisgaar is saying this:

Right before they head in to rescue Toki and Abigail, Skwisgaar imparts some reflection of his. He's been wondering if maybe it wouldn't be better to go back to being a one-guitar band. Toki has been in Dethklok for a long time now, so it's interesting Skwisgaar has been thinking about this...

...Except, that's exactly what his mentality used to be like, before meeting Toki. Right when he was trying to convince Pickles that they didn't need a rhythm guitar, he spoke these words exactly. One-guitar band.

It's almost like Skwisgaar is trying to do some self-preservation by returning to his aloof roots. He made Toki join the band, now Toki's gone and in danger, and maybe this wouldn't have happened if they had stuck with Skwisgaar's original plan. Because they attempted to replace Magnus is why this came to be. The revenge Magnus promised did arrive.

I just wanna be clear. I don't think Skwisgaar believes he's the sole to responsible for this, I'm sure he knows Magnus is the main perpetrator here. But the facts remain the facts, and had they all stayed as they were, then they wouldn't be risking their lives now to save their fifth member.

Like this, it seems entirely logical that Skwisgaar would be thinking of his former reluctance, of the Duel, of everything. It's all fresh in his mind once again, because Toki's kidnapping has forced him to realize they're not actually untouchable. Their mortality is back on the table, and so are their bonds.

In short, Skwisgaar had been repressing all his emotions about Toki's disappearance, but from the Depths of Humanity onward, he can't help but show them. He can't help but admit to himself and others, that he wants Toki back. So much, that a bunch of angry and entitled people can't affect him enough to forget it. So much that it's making him remember how distant he used to be, before Toki. So much that it's making him realize how different he is now.

[gemsofthegalaxy]

One of the things I've seen said was it's ironic that Blitz now won't stop blowing up Stolas' phone when he couldn't be bothered to text him when he was in the hospital, or didn't care enough to

And maybe I'm being nit-picky with wording, but, I wouldn't say it was that Blitz didn't care enough to text or see Stolas. I think Blitz's affections are muddled and way, waaay more subtle than Stolas' big big emotions but I am feeling very vindicated as of the most recent episode because it's hugely concrete evidence, finally, that Blitz cares about Stolas

I know Blitz has brushed Stolas off a lot, seems annoyed by him, rolls his eyes at his affection and sexuality, but imo none of this means Blitz doesn't actually like Stolas. I've said this before (and also keep trying to make a longer post and failing) but if you look at how Blitz treats Moxxie, he is highly abrasive and a dickhead even to the people he clearly adores. In Truthseekers, he's upset at the idea he might have crossed a line by telling Moxxie he disliked one of his interests but at the same time he rags on Moxxie for his vanilla sex life with Millie and like 50 other things all the time. He is nearly obsessed with Moxxie, wants to be near him, cares for him, and is still a complete jerk to him a lot of the time. Because we see less of Stolas and Blitz and very different sides of the relationship, I know some people have read into it that Blitz genuinely is disinterested in Stolas but I really don't even think it's been the case.

Back to the point at hand, I wouldn't say that Blitz refusing to see Stolas while he was in hospital is due to lack of care. If anything, probably too much care. Blitz, understandbly, probably has a complicated relationship with hospitals after the fire accident. In The Full Moon he acknowledges in the opening song that something is up, he knows Stolas wants to talk and he also states outright he doesn't want to address the weirdness, he wants thing to stay the same, chill, transactional, no feelings involved. Now, if Apology Tour hadn't gone down how it did, I might believe that Blitz doesn't want feelings involved because he doesn't have feelings for Stolas in the first place (although, again, I maintain he's always cared about Stolas and we do get hints to this, they haven't been super blantant)

But oohhh man in Apology Tour, it's never been clearer, from the first moment of the episode, Blitz is fighting for Stolas in a way we certainly haven't seen before (in his abravise messed up way). He is visually and viserally upset at being confronted with the fact Stolas doesn't think he ever cared about him precisely because he does care about him. He's viciously jealous at another man "stealing" Stolas' attention because he ultimately feels like Stolas belongs with him, even if he's not ready to let that happen in a way that's good for either of them.

Therefore, in retrospect at the very least, I can't comprehend Blitz's lack of going to the hospital as a lack of care in and of itself. I think he just couldn't handle it, honestly, it would be too big, too real, too significant, too close to the truth of the matter to acknowledge not only to himself but to Stolas that he cares enough to visit him in the hospital. And he can't let Stolas knows he cares that much, because he won't be good enough for him. I mean, clearly, the conclusion is still the same that it comes across like he doesn't care enough, but it's more complicated than that, is what I'm trying to say

[solarisfortuneia]

— 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

✦ event: freedom is sweet.

✦ for: @zhongrin

✦ info / prompt: “sometimes (read: all the time) i want to just. hug their waist and pepper kisses ( + maybe even nibbles when i'm feeling chaotic >:) ) all over their back!! how do you think they would they react?” (zhongli: modern au. alhaitham: regular au.)

✦ warnings: none, i think. (i did proofread but i may have missed a mistake or two.)

✦ featuring: zhongli, alhaitham.

✦ notes: happy (belated) birthday rin!! my apologies for this being late, i wanted to make it perfect (it's not quite there, but i like it regardless and i hope you will too <3 mwah have a great day!!)

warm rays of sunlight stream in through open windows that zhongli insists on keeping open in the mornings, lighting up the entire kitchen, bouncing off cream colored walls. the plants by the windowsill are certainly grateful for it, considering how they seem to be thriving. they look happier than they’ve ever been.

and in the middle of the cozy scene stands your husband, still in his nightclothes, watering can in hand, amber eyes focused solely on his task. 

the scent of both coffee and tea floats gently to your nose, and you look to the side to see your favorite cup already set atop a warmer. soft, slow music plays through his phone on the table, the notes in harmony with the metallic clinks of the windchime.  oh, you think, smiling to yourself as you lean on the doorframe, arms crossed. he’s finally figured out how to put that song he likes on repeat.

“look at you,” he murmurs to his— well, technically, they’re yours, but at this point he’s practically claimed them as his own with how much attention he lavishes upon them on the daily— plants, affectionately running a finger along a vibrant green leaf. “you’re looking well this morning, aren’t you, little one?” 

an idea sparks to life in your head.

he turns to the right, moving to lightly water another plant, one with pale white flowers blooming happily. “good morning to you, dear,” he coos, gently turning it. “and to you too, madam.” he says to the one with vibrant red blooms. 

opportunity presents itself to you at precisely that very moment, where his back faces towards you and there is no possible chance for him to spot you in his peripherals. your feet, clad in socks, barely make a sound as you inch ever-so-carefully towards him. a brief pause, then a quiet inhale, and you pounce, arms locking around his waist as you pepper kisses all over his backside, quick and mischievous. 

a surprised ‘oof’ leaves his mouth, and he laughs when he realizes it’s you, setting aside the watering can. you lean up, nibbling at the nape of his neck, giggling alongside him. “good morning, my dearest.” he glances at you from over his shoulder, amusement in his expression. “how long have you been up?”

“long enough to see you talking to the flowers,” you tease playfully. “i know you’re an old, old man, but you’re not that old yet, are you?”

he clears his throat, revolving to meet your gaze. he grasps your face in his warm, calloused hands, before speaking. “studies show that talking to your plants and speaking positively to them can augment their growth by a considerable amount, dearest.” his lips quirk into a tiny, serene smile. “besides, i do quite enjoy doing it.”

you laugh, pressing more kisses to the tip of his nose and to his mouth in rapid succession. you feel his smile widen against your lips, which stays on his face long after you pull away.

“you certainly are affectionate today.” he chuckles. “well, then,” he looks to you for silent permission, ever the gentleman, hoisting you up into his arms when you consent, lips brushing over your eyelids, over your cheek and over your forehead.

“let me return the favor tenfold, my love.”

your shoes clack satisfyingly against the polished floors of the house of daena as you walk down the hallway. you pause to wave hello to the man standing near the lift to the grand sage’s office, then walk inside. if your estimates were correct, then you should be just in time for alhaitham’s lunch break.  

you push open the door to his office, forgoing the need to knock. the room is neat, clean and organized; just how he prefers it. you see him standing in front of his bookshelf, eyes scanning up and down, very clearly looking for something, familiar silver hair a little tousled. you walk normally towards him, knowing his headphones muffle the sound of your footsteps, and wrap your arms around his waist.

“boo,” you whisper in his ear, lifting his earpieces a little. “i’m here! did you miss me?”

he sighs contentedly when he feels your touch, book still in one hand, but the other moves to remove his headphones, then grasps your hand firmly. “i did,” he admits, leaning so the back of his head rests against yours. “everything is certainly duller without you around.”

he sighs again, wearily this time, setting the book down to run his fingers over his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose. “i’d much rather be at home with you than deal with paperwork. it seems as if people can't do anything themselves.”

“i know,” you whisper against the skin of his neck, smiling sympathetically. you hold him tighter, running your lips over his neck and his back, playfully nipping at his earlobe. your lips kiss every inch of him that you can reach, littering featherlight pecks all over.

he shakes his head at your antics, but the red that dusts his cheek (and the tips of his ears) and the barely contained grin on his face portray a different story. 

“why did you stop?” he asks when you pull away. his voice sounds disappointed, and you can’t help but laugh. how cute. “i never asked you to.” 

“i’m sorry,” you smooch his cheek in apology. your eyes fall to the clock on his desk. “ i'm glad i got to see you today, but i’ve got to go now.”

“where are you going off to?” he pulls you closer by your wrist when you start to move away, then intertwines his fingers with yours once again, brows knitting together. “stay. have lunch with me.”

“i only popped in to say hello,” you kiss the frown on his forehead. “i have to get back to work soon. my break ends much earlier than yours, remember?”

“i know, but you can still stay,” he glances at you. “i’ll send a letter to your boss after lunch. they won’t have a problem.”

“grand sage alhaitham!” you exclaim in mock-surprise, holding a hand to your mouth, eyes widening slightly. “are you really going to use your position to get me to have lunch with you? what would people at the akademiya think of this?” 

“acting grand sage,” he reminds you, leaning over to softly touch his lips to your forehead, used to your theatrics. “good thing i don’t care what they think. besides,” he adds, “i’m sure lesser lord kusanali wouldn’t mind, and is she not the boss of us all?”

you laugh. “i suppose that reasoning is sound.”

he extends his arm for you to hold. “then let's get going.”

taglist: @kissedbysilk @ilyuu @xiaosonlybeloved @ineshapanda @soleillunne @supernova25 @vixianne @downwithlean

bold: unable to be tagged! please check your settings or let me know if you've changed urls <3

[junowritings]

Hello ☺️💚

I hope I can request something, if they are closed please feel free to delete this 🌺🌺

I absolutely I adored your NRC amnesiac MC story with the dorms and would love to see more. It just hit all the tropes I love so much and adore.

Maybe with the rest of the dorms? As scenarios?? Or imagines?? (Honestly I’m a confused when it comes to those terms, so whichever is easier for you)

With pomefiore, ignihyde, and diasomnia? I feel like Vil is going to take one look at mc and go “okay, time to take care of another potato” but lovingly, ignihyde is going ortho is “I have another sibling” and gosh diasomnia is practically family and lilia is going “time to adopt another one 👏👏”

I just found the idea so so cute, but feel free to do whatever you want ☺️🌺

Right so first off I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED THE ORIGINAL ONE!!! Also thank you so much for all the kind comments that you leave on my post I see every single one and it still makes my day to re-read them!

But also GOD I love this idea too and I got way too carried away with this. There's a lot of TWST I gotta catch up on (haven't been able to start chapter 7 yet) so I had to work with what I've got in terms of knowledge of Diasomnia.

I hope this was well worth the wait~! (OG scenario here btw)

Pomefiore

♡ Time passes at Night Raven College, and life continues to move on, as it always has. It’s been months without a single shred of your memories resurfacing, and with no sign of anything returning anytime soon the attention has turned from your past, to your present. Your memory loss has become a simple fact of life at this point, a reality that you had to put on the back burner with everything else that had happened since your arrival and during the winter holidays. You’re thankful that the needless prodding seems to have died down by the time that students start returning back to the school and classes resume. Things return to the only sense of normalcy you’ve ever known, and you think you can get used to this without another incident.

♡ Until VDC happens.

♡ Ramshackle is the only place you have to call home, but even you can admit that it needs a lot of work. It’s a poor excuse for a building, considering the state that it had been left in far before anyone called it home. It at least had running water, and electricity, but compared to the other dorms and their meticulous upkeep by both students and staff, Ramshackle is most certainly the odd dorm out with only two members and a handful of ghosts to its name. And yet it’s the place that the headmaster deems an acceptable place to host the VDC group during their month ‘training camp’.

♡ It makes it easier knowing that you’re good friends with the majority of the group, having been through plenty before the training camp even started. In some weird way it’s kind of like a month-long sleepover with your friends and classmates, not unlike the times Kalim’s dragged you over to Scarabia for the night in the name of making fond memories. Still, you can’t help but feel cautious around the Pomfiore members you now have living under your roof, and how little you actually know about them.

♡ By this point, the fact that you’ve got no memories prior to ending up in Twisted Wonderland is pretty much common knowledge amongst the people who bother to keep tabs on you. And considering how Pomefiore’s got the likes of Rook, a skilled hunter who has a penchant for people watching anyone who catches his eye, you’ve got no doubts that they’re well aware of your circumstances.

♡That, and Crowley’s a loudmouth when it comes to his generosity about your ‘unfortunate situation’. That headmaster is really starting to test your patience…

♡ While Vil is strict, he’s by no means cruel, and is at least polite when you first allow them all into your home. He thankfully doesn’t pity you like you worried he would - you’ve had enough of the pitying looks some people give you when they think you’re not looking. Your lack of a past isn’t something you want to dwell on, Vil can see that clearly with how thoroughly you throw yourself into the training camp alongside your friends and new acquaintances. Not to mention that you act as a surprisingly good buffer between the members whenever tensions start to arise with the upcoming deadline. 

♡ It’s admirable really - a single minded little spudling if he’s ever seen one. You’ve got promise, if you keep up that resilient attitude, so Vil offers you no quarter in getting you just as involved in this little training excursion as the others are, if only to help you flourish with enough memories of this upcoming event to last you for a lifetime. 

♡ With that being said your thirst for knowledge isn’t to be underestimated, and once you find out that Vil’s pretty much a celebrity and acting prodigy you’re intrigued. Vil’s walking past the living room after the group’s come back from another day training at the ballroom and freezes once he hears his own voice coming through the door. Sure enough you’re lounging over the couch watching one of the more obscure movie titles Vil’s acted in on the phone Crowley ‘gifted’ you before winter break. There’s a blunt honesty when you praise his work once you notice you’ve got an audience. Sure, it’s praise he’s heard from adoring fans and critics more times than he could ever hope to recall, but it’s not something you’re saying just to try and get in his good books. When you offhandedly mention that he looks a little happier in the roles where he’s not the villain, noting that they suit him and that whatever world you’re from he’d probably be a big hit, you swear that he gets a bit smug, apparently pleased by whatever you’d said. You may not know all the ins and outs of this world yet, but Vil’s at least sure you’ve got taste. Which is why he turns a convenient blind eye at the treats you smuggle up to Grim and your room after he’s sure you swore to Ace and Deuce to follow along with their no-sweet regime.

♡ Rook is observant, and it’s hard for people not to feel like he’s prying a bit too much into their personal lives when they happen to gain the huntsman’s attention. Perhaps it’s because you’ve got a relatively blank slate, or that you’re so focused on forging ahead to whatever comes next that you’ll get involved at a moment’s notice. Whatever the quality it has piqued his interest, and from the moment that the camp starts he’s committing every little detail about you to memory. 

♡ You may not see it, but there’s so many details in the actions that you do and your daily routines that tell the story of who you are to whoever is diligent enough to listen. It’s in your mannerisms and the way you engage with everything around you, all easily missed to the untrained eye. It’s beautiful in its own way, and Rook is nothing if not an appreciator of that beauty. 

♡ Your homestead at Ramshackle is but another shining example of who you are as well. Having nothing but the clothes on your back and a basic understanding of how to function when you first arrived, it’s clear that you’ve made a concentrated effort to at least make the place liveable for you and Grim; not just as a shelter, but as a home. Because of course this is the only place you can call home, and Rook is sure to treat it with the respect such an important place deserves.

♡ Epel doesn’t really know what to make of you at first. You’re from a different world entirely, for one thing, and not having any kind of past beyond school makes him feel a bit awkward about interacting with you. According to Vil, Epel’s still rather rough around the edges, and when his emotions get the better of him he’s been known to put his foot in it and say something that comes off blunt and snappy. Plus, surely there was only so much the two of you could talk about that wasn’t VDC or school related, right?

♡ He’s proven wrong when that huge batch of apple juice from his nana back home is delivered to Ramshackle’s doorstep. All it takes is him mentioning to Kalim that his hometown is known for its apples, and before he can even elaborate your voice chimes in with a helpful “Oh,the village of Harvest, right?” that has Epel’s attention snapping over to you so quickly you think you’ve done something wrong.

♡How did you even know that? His hometown’s barely on the map to begin with, so it genuinely makes him freeze when you recognize it so quickly. The question bugs him until he’s able to ask you about it later, where he finds out just how much you’ve thrown yourself into learning about this world you’ve ended up in. You’re excited that someone’s finally asking you about stuff that you do know, and you pretty much end up talking poor Epel’s ear off for the rest of the evening, telling him all kinds of facts you’ve read up on regarding his hometown’s history and culture. Hell, you spout off a few facts that even he didn’t know about, and he doesn’t miss the proud grin on your face once you learn that.

♡Surprisingly, you want to hear more from Epel too. About the place he grew up, the people he grew up with - his family especially. You’ve had some time to process your own grief around your potential family and your life back home, and though there’s still a twinge of jealousy that sparks up on the bad days you don’t want it to hinder the people that you care about right now. And so you sit, and you listen, prodding him for as much information as he’s willing to give. He practically has to send a message to his nana there and then thanking her on your behalf for all the juice when you learn that she was the one kind enough to send them all over. It’s the only way to get you off of his back about it, but there’s no denying that it’s actually kind of nice having someone who’s genuinely curious about his upbringing, instead of snooping or looking down on it.

♡Even after VDC you’re surprised to find that Pomefiore’s promptly nestled itself into your life. With everything that took place before and after the group's performance it only made sense that they’ve bonded to their newest potato, just be prepared for what exactly that entails. Expect plenty of gifts in the form of the latest cosmetic brands and accessories to be delivered to Ramshackle (much to Grim’s disappointment because it’s not food.) You’ve even had yourself called all the way over to Pomefiore’s dorm only to come back with entire outfits just because you let slip once that Crowley’s budget for your dorm doesn’t cover enough to justify buying anything more than your uniform. 

♡ Those aren’t the only gifts you receive too. Often when you’re hanging out with the first year group Epel’s got one thing or another that his family back home has practically strong-armed him into giving to you. He’s talked about you to his folks a few times thanks to the whole apple incident, and Marja herself has made Epel remind you more than a couple times that you’re always welcome at the village of Harvest when the next school breaks come up. Did that embarrass Epel? Yes. Did it make him panic when you immediately teared up because of how touching it was? Also yes. 

♡ Pomefiore’s final gifts are small, but mean just as much. They also confuse the hell out of you because when did they even show up??? They’re specific things - things related to your hobbies like new books, CD’s, Movies of your favorite genre for you to enjoy (in case Crowley ever caves and gets you that TV on sale at Sam’s store that he’s been promising you for weeks now goddammit-). All placed somewhere that you’re sure to find them. These gifts are well thought out and honestly mean a lot once you realize who they’re from. Not to mention that there’s a folder with a beautiful decorated cover amongst these little surprises, a clear label reading ‘Memory book’ in very familiar handwriting. Thank god the mystery is solved once you find out Grim’s being bribed with tuna by a certain bob-cut huntsman to drop all these things off at Ramshackle (Grim was supposed to give them to you in hand, but he always gets too bored to do so before you get back from school.) So long as you come to terms with the fact that you’ve been pseudo-adopted into Pomfiore’s ranks by the end of it, it’s honestly kind of nice.

♡Just maybe don’t tell Vil that you may have accidentally made friends with his biggest rival on the day of the event because you ran into him backstage. Rook is certainly happy about it - Vil not so much.

Ignihyde

♡ Your friendship with the housewarden of Ignihyde can be rather prickly in light of everything that’s happened, especially after the events with S.T.Y.X. Before that your only real contact with the Shroud brothers was through Ortho, during your first run in at the audition waiting room. You didn’t hide your excitement once you learned that Idia had made the vocal synthesizer that Ortho was using for the VDC auditions, marveling about how cool it was and asking question after question about how he did it. Ortho is more than happy to answer each and every question you have and then some - especially once you learned Technomancy was a thing and just about lit up like a lightbulb. In fact Ace and Deuce basically have to strong arm you away from the conversation in the end because you’re gonna end up making them late for the damn audition. 

♡ You at least have the chance to call out to Ortho to tell his brother that he sounds awesome and his stuff is cool before the ballroom door shuts behind you. And that’s exactly what he tells Idia as soon as he’s back from the auditions. Idia thinks that you’re just pulling his leg and don’t actually mean any of the nice things that you say, and it takes Ortho insisting on playing it to him on his memory bank multiple times to prove just how genuinely nice and excited you sounded.

♡ Idia doesn’t really expect to hear anything from you after that, but hoo boy is he mistaken because once you’ve gotten in one of the Shroud boys’ good books the other one (reluctantly) follows. Not that he has much of a choice, because not even a couple of days after the auditions Idia’s getting added to a group chat with him, Ortho and you. It’s supposedly because you’d wanted to ask him a few more questions about his tech, and after Ortho had mentioned his brother probably wouldn’t like the face to face grilling, a group chat with the younger Shroud as the middleman was born. Grim sometimes forces his way into the conversation, but that usually involves him demanding you to write down the texts for him or slapping the nearest meme on your phone into the chat completely out of context.

♡Ortho has a lot of fun chatting with you because he shares your passion for learning things, and the two of you become thick as thieves over it before and after he officially becomes a student. He’s basically got the internet at his fingertips at all times, alongside a variety of other tools that basically make the younger Shroud brother a walking hub of information. You, for one, are absolutely living your best life because whatever odd subject has caught your attention, no matter the question you can always ask Ortho and he is more than happy to provide you whatever fun fact you’re looking for within a matter of moments. You get a bit quiet once he mentions the memories he was given during his creation, but that’s to be expected given the circumstances that you’re working with.

♡ At first, getting Idia to even pop up in the chat is like pulling on a gacha - you’ve got a good 2% chance of him actually interacting, though he does check in a lot more than you’d expect. With time however, and more than a little persistence on your part, you’ll find cracks in Idia’s defenses. He finds it easier to talk to people behind the safety of a screen, and it's not like you’re forcing him to interact with you so that at least gets you some brownie points. Granted, expect him to prod juuuuust a little bit if the topic of your memories come up in chat. He’s sure he hasn’t got enough of a bond rank with you yet

♡Things go up in the air when S.T.Y.X breaks into NRC.

♡ It was one thing having all of these people who you’d come to call friends suddenly stolen away, but losing Grim? The one who’s been your rock since you first showed up who’s been a part of every single memory you’ve made? If Rook wasn’t already planning to sneak out to find them you would have tore through their headquarters with your bare hands to get that damn tuna loving weird rock eating fluff ball back. Once you found out what S.T.Y.X actually had their hands in, especially considering the Lethe River system you were pissed. If you didn’t know for a fact that you were from another world entirely, and that the system operated to a very specific set of procedures for rewriting and erasing set memories, you would have thought that it had something to do with your own memory erasure. If that was the case you probably would have throttled the poor older Shroud; but because you know the truth, and the system itself is down for the next few centuries you settle for being absolutely livid about it. 

♡ It’s a sore spot, hitting a little too close to home knowing that there’s people out there who have had memories taken away from them or altered to protect S.T.Y.X’s existence. It’s nothing like your own situation, but you can’t help feeling angry for them. And on top of that, seeing all of those phantoms and knowing that they could have been your friends if you hadn’t been able to bring them back from their overblots? You may try to think of every memory being worth it, but you learn that some bad memories keep you up at night for days after you’re all finally home.

♡ Your friendship with the brothers is tentatively built back up after this, but it takes a bit of work. Idia’s convinced that you’re never going to want anything to do with either of them again after all that’s happened. So convinced that he nearly has a heart attack when you reach out into the group chat once you’ve had time to process things and recover.

♡ Gonna be honest, the wonderlink he gets for you and Grim becomes a huge olive branch once you’re settled back at Ramshackle. Your determination to make memories alongside not having a clue how the gaming system works leads to you either calling Idia over the phone or actually wrangling him into coming over to play with you. Whether by accident or purpose most of the games you purchased on the system he gave you are multiplayer and you insist that there’s absolutely no way just the two of you can place and that you need a gaming expert. Of course Idia sees through your poorly veiled attempts to get him to socialize, but you must have pulled some cheat code because you somehow manage to get him over to play with you two. Just be ready to have more than a few memories of losing - he’s a gaming pro for a reason, after all.

Diasomnia

♡ You’ve firmly wormed your way into the Diasomnia circle from the moment that you first encountered Malleus, whether you realize it at first or not. 

♡ Mallues may not be the most intimately involved in the school's affairs or gossip, but even he’s heard talk of the prefect from another world with neither magic nor memories to their name. The lack of magical aptitude wasn’t anything to bat an eye at, though it was unfortunate given your current enrollment at one of the top arcane colleges in the world. But to have no recollections of your life prior to enrolling? In a place where no one can recognize you or give you the answers that you’re looking for? Truly, an unfortunate set of circumstances you’ve been dealt.

♡ He did not expect to cross paths with this infamous prefect on Ramshackle’s grounds not long after word of them popped up. The old bones of the place were a comfort to Malleus on many nightly walks; when he finds out that it’s no longer as abandoned as he first thought he’s sour at the knowledge that he’ll have to find another place to pass his time in peace. The last thing that Malleus expects is you being bold enough not only to approach him, but to greet him so casually as you none too subtly try to pry into what he’s doing walking around your dorm grounds. 

♡ Perhaps you’ve lost more than just your memories, as there’s not even a shred of trepidation or cautiousness as you so boldly interact with the fae. Not only that but you listen, looking up at him not with the nervousness or even fear that he’s seen in the faces of most of NRC’s students, but with curiosity. You’re a stranger to this world, so you don’t yet know the name Malleus Draconia, nor the face the name is tied to. For once your lack of knowledge works to someone’s benefit, and an unusual bond is formed.

♡ Your friendship with Malleus is an interesting exchange - you provide him company and idle conversation whenever he spirits away to Ramshackle; and he provides you company in turn, as well as a willing ear for you to confide in. Sure, your friends have told you that you can talk to them about your problems, but for some reason you’re able to open up easily to Mal. Maybe it’s because of just how little you know about him, right down to his very name - he’s just as much of a blank slate to you as yourself. So you find yourself sharing your worries about where you came from, or the life you lived before this, or the general distress of not knowing the first thing to do about getting your memory back. 

♡ Even after all these months it still weighs heavily on you, Malleus can see it in the tired expression that wears on your face when you recall all the things you’ve done to bring back even a shred of your old identity until your head’s pounding and your eyes ache. He hates seeing you troubling yourself over it, and more than once he’s found himself flickering through old books and tomes that haven’t been touched in centuries back home with the small hope to relieve some of that burden from your mind.

♡ On a happier note, Malleus will quite happily fill you in on subjects that peak your interest. He may have lived a fairly isolated life up until his enrollment here, but even what he does know about NRC and the world outside of it he’ll share with you, if only to see the way your expression lights up in wonder hearing everything he has to share.

♡ This dynamic changes very little, aside from the fact that now that you know his true identity these interactions are no longer purely one sided in the sense that you don’t have to wait around for him to just magically appear like you have been for months. Now he’s the one being surprised by your presence when you come knocking on Diasomnia’s doors looking to hang out. Surprising, but it honestly makes the young Draconia’s day having you march through his dorm’s halls wanting to spend time with him, encouraging him to talk about his day and asking how Roaring Drago is doing as you do so. 

♡ It’s an unusual feeling, having someone’s undivided attention simply because they enjoy your company, and that you leave such an impressionable impact on their memory. Your memory is a precious commodity considering your unique circumstances, and Malleus realizes that he wants to be in as many fond memories as you’ll allow him to.

♡ Though he has to admit, Malleus can’t shake the conflict that dwells in his chest whenever the topic of your home world comes up. Perhaps it’s just in your nature to yearn for something you’ve never known, but he wonders if you’re thinking about it because your worried about your ties to this world. He hopes that once you realize the life that you’re building here, and the memories that you’re making with him and your friends will be enough to convince you to stay. But that day is far away, and so he pushes it to the back of his mind in favor of enjoying the time spent with his closest friend, for however long it lasts…

♡Lilia, catches onto the friendship you’ve got with Malleus quickly, because of course there’s no hiding how much happier Malleus has become. You’re an interesting case yourself, being able to tackle most of the problems that Ramshackle has to offer you and come out the other side as unscathed as you can be. That coupled with the increased amount of time you begin spending around Daisomnia and its students is more than enough reason to catch this guy’s attention. He learns about your memory loss early on, especially considering that it’s pretty much the talk of the school once the information drops. He won’t prod you about it like some of the younger students might, however; he’s been on this earth long enough to recognize a sore subject when he sees one. 

♡ And so he sets about learning things about you in the present rather than the past. Your likes, dislikes, favorite foods, how easily shocked you get when he tries one of his infamous surprise appearances. Lilia’s very easygoing so it’s rather easy to get along with him, not to mention being a dad he’s got the comforting parental presence down pat when he wants to use it. He’s an easy person to let your guard down around, and admit things you usually wouldn’t. Maybe that’s why you end up talking to him about the what-if’s of your previous life.

♡ It’s a moment of weakness, you let one of your idle thoughts about your family back home slip, asking aloud if there’s anyone there to actually miss you. Lilia doesn’t miss the somber chuckle as you admit that you’re a little jealous - Sebek has his parents, and Silver has Lilia. You want a family like that. You try to lighten the mood by jokingly asking why someone can’t whisk you away into their family already, thinking about that time Kalim very nearly got you adopted into his family once he learned of your memory loss. You don’t expect an answer, much less for the moment to suddenly be broken as the fae pats your head ruffling your hair. No doubt he’s made your hair a mess by the action, but you’re more focused on the grin Lilia gives you when he mentions always wanting a big family - he’s sure Silver wouldn’t mind having a new sibling!

♡Unrelated but Lilia loves sharing old stories with you. Some of the things he shares you vaguely recall reading about in some history books at the library; some of those books were so old you have to wrack your brain trying to do the mental gymnastics to figure out exactly how old he is. He is thoroughly entertained seeing the mild existential crisis inducing cogs turning in your head as he continues his tales, waiting for you to inevitably jump into the story to prod him for more information. Just wait until Malleus shows you that one textbook that’s got Lilia’s portrait in; Lilia doesn’t hear the end of it when you come flying into his room mid game with the textbook in hand demanding to know how the hell he looks the same in a portrait taken centuries ago and waiting like a stubborn child next to his chair as he finishes the raid he’s working through with Gloomurai.

♡ Maybe if you weren’t so desperate for answers, you would have noticed that his friend’s gamer tag looks kinda familiar…

♡ Offered to cook you your favorite dish once. You thought it was a nice gesture, until Sebek and Silver made a joint effort to wrangle you away from the scene, basically pleading with Lilia to please not step foot into the kitchen. That’s probably one thing you’re better off not learning about…

♡ When Sebek first runs into you at NRC, he almost fools himself into thinking that you’re playing up the amnesia for some unforeseen gain. He’s not the first student to have had their doubts, and honestly you can’t entirely blame him for just how weird ‘complete memory loss aside from remembering basic functions and muscle memory’ sounds even without the whole context of this being a world governed by magic. However, what makes Sebek different is that he approaches the subject about as delicately as a falling brick. You’re only half listening as he’s demanding answers for things you don’t even know yourself, already fed up with the whole rigmarole of people throwing questions about your amnesia at you.

♡There’s only so much you can hear about memories this, hiding that before you snap back, hissing out that you’d give just about anything for it to be a lie rather than spending every night guessing where you’ve come from and who you’ve left behind while he’s got the luxury of knowing the kind of life he’s lived before this damn school. That shuts him up faster than you’ve ever seen, jaw snapping closed so hard you swear you hear his teeth click together as you turn heel and generate as much distance between the two of you as possible. 

♡ He feels guilty afterwards; Sebek may be a bit of a livewire but even he knows when he’s taken things a bit too far, and it’s clear to see his prying has left you feeling more than a little bitter towards him. Thankfully team dad Lilia is right there to offer advice on smoothing things over in a way that doesn’t result in things looping back around to the original argument. It takes a little while to come to terms with the fact that Sebek genuinely didn’t mean any malice in his prodding; with him on a determined path to become a knight worthy to protect Malleus he wants to know that he can trust you before allowing any kind of potential friendship to form. The way that he went about it however was blunt and came off way ruder than intended; that’s something you can both agree on when he bellows out an apology in the middle of the damn hallway when you cross paths the next day.

♡ He comes to respect how diligently you work despite your initial setbacks coming to Twisted Wonderland with such limited knowledge. What he once thought was an attempt to pry into things for malicious gain he finds is actually just a desire to understand the world around you and the people who inhabit it. Sebek has relayed his respect to you before, in his own way, and thankfully you’ve spent enough time around him to know that he genuinely means every word of it. 

♡ Will actively spur on your thirst for knowledge. The first time he lent you a book because he thought the material would give you something to think about, he fully expected it to be weeks before you’d finished. Cut to the next night and you’re unceremoniously dropping that same book onto his bedroom desk, sitting down next to him as you exclaim how cool the book was and your favorite highlights. 

♡ Of course Sebek quizzes you about it, but when it’s clear you’ve actually taken an interest in the book he’s given you expect to be walking home that night with a new pile of them to pour over to your heart's content. He’s got his own passion for books, and the pair of you bond over this shared activity a lot more than people realize. Lilia almost can’t believe his eyes how quickly Sebek’s hot-blooded attitude simmers down into something more tempered whenever you come over to gush about the latest book he’s recommended to you.

♡You made a joke once about being adopted by Sebek’s parents while he was on call back home, if only to get a laugh out of the smoldering glare he shot you from the other side of the couch. That laugh however breaks out into a full on cackle hearing his parents actually agreeing with you as you shuffle across the couch and pluck the phone from Sebek’s hands while he’s frozen in shock. His mom is thrilled; Sebek, decidedly, is not, as a pillow from the couch goes sailing across the room as you flee from the scene, disappearing into Daisomnia’s halls with Sebek’s phone to tell your second adopted family all about how he’s been making them proud at NRC.

♡ Silver doesn’t miss the signs that you’ve essentially been pseudo-adopted by his father and the other Diasomnia members, though he doesn’t know that you haven’t clocked onto it yet. Considering how Malleus considers you a close confidant, Lilia is basically treating you like another one of his children, and Sebek seems to actually enjoy having you around it’s easy to think that you’ve noticed just how much everyone cares for you. And of course you care for them in return; more than once you’ve stopped by during Silver and Sebek’s training with something from the cafeteria, or you’ve brought the oddest little things you’ve found at Sam’s shop to show off how cool they are (all of which he’s pretty sure he’s seen scattered around Malleus’ room whenever you bring a new item to the dorm.)

♡ You’re quickly becoming such an integral part of Diasomnia’s life that it’s getting harder to imagine a time without you here, and these guys have become all you’ve ever known in the same way. So it’s shocking to Silver when one of the other students mentions that you’ve basically been adopted into the dorm - you’re there so much you’re practically family anyway - and he sees your reaction. You freeze, jaw slack as you process what you’ve just heard. You hardly even notice Grim swiping the sandwich Silver brought you for lunch in your shock, instead glancing up at the Diasomnia boy as if to confirm what you just heard

♡ When he gives you a confused look in return and asks why you’re so shocked since they’re right he practically watches you go through several stages of emotions, right before you’re grabbing him by the lapel of his uniform and guide him to follow you as you bolt over to Crowley’s office. The poor headmaster doesn’t hear the end of your demanding for Grim and yourself to be made honorary Diasomnia members after this. If they’re adopting you, then by the seven you’re getting it in writing from the bird man himself.

♡ Silver mentions once that he wouldn’t mind if you really were adopted into the family. It’s right as he’s on the cusp of another one of his naps, leaning up against your shoulder when he lets slip that he’d be proud to have a sibling like you without thinking anything of it - because of course it’s true, it's just a thought he hasn’t voiced out loud before. Cut to Lilia coming in a minute or two later to check in only to find his son conked out on your shoulder while you’re a blubbering mess over the fact that someone genuinely wants you as part of their family. Lilia feels only marginally bad when he reaffirms the sentiment, him casually throwing out that he already sees you as Silver’s little sibling resulting in you crying harder.

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

hey, since your request are open, can you write a Yandere Russia x reader? A scenario where the reader is a foreigner and he goes in reader's country to meet some important businessmen, just to fall for reader who was just standing in front of a store like🧍. Thank you❤️

Yandere Russia seeing reader for the first time

note: i loved this idea so much. thank you anon. this'll be in russia's point of view, and i'm sorry it took me so long. like really long.. to do this. if you request anything else pls specify that it's you so i can make it priority and make up for it by being faster next time.. just like add a star to it or some shit like that. i hope this is what u wanted but im not certain :(

!! yandere content. if you can't handle any behavior possibly seen in a yandere please don't read this. !! (example; obsessive, stalkery, possessive, violent, or generally horrid behaviour.)

It was late when Russia was finally allowed to leave. Not his worst work day, but certainly not his lightest. Actually, he's been rather busy, this being his third country in this week alone. Luckily though, he's finally able to have some peace. Stroll around and take a view of the surrounding cityscape around him. He feels a bit out of place, but that's to be expected. It's something he's used to (even in his own country..)

But as he's walking, something hits him. He hasn't ate today. Too caught up in the busy-ness of the morning to even had thought about it. And he really doesn't want to enter a resturaunt, or cook at the hotel.. So he settles on something simpler. He'll just get himself a quick meal at a corner store, whatever pre-made thing is available really he isn't picky.. Had too hard of a life to be choosy with things such as food.

Looking through the streets, he finally finds one. The bright lights of the sign a bit bright as he looks at it too long.. He squints, blinking a bit to regain his sight and looking down to- oh? At this hour? He stares for a moment before slowly looking in the other direction, just to be sure he won't get noticed. God, they're gorgeous. So much so he doesn't even feel hungry anymore, or exhausted, or anything. It's like the very presence of this mysterious stranger just caught him. Something he struggles to not rocket focus on, and he hasn't a clue why. Blinking, he looks down at the road. Why's he so focused on this random person just looking at the signs in front of the store window tonight? Maybe he's just so tired he can't focus.

Shaking his head, Russia walks across the street and goes past them, having to use every tiny bit of control he has to not gawk at them the entire time as he goes through the door. Making his way in-between shoves, he decides to just try and not get caught absolutely enamored by this beautiful individual he just found himself. Carefully looking through all the chips and jerky and whatnot he decides to lean down and settle on some potatoe chips. An easy answer. And as soon as he stand back up, his eyes conveniently land right back on the very person from earlier! They went in after him and yet they're checking out earlier. He looks over their outfit, then the counter. What they got looks good..

Putting his chips back up, he goes to the back of the store. Where is it all.. Grabbing the drink you got from the fridge before looking all about the store to get the rest. And he sighs once he finishes. He sort of wishes he didn't decide to avoid you, internally kicking himself in the ass for making that decision. Quickly getting his items checked out, he steps outside the door, looking both ways.. There. Turning. He follows you at a steady speed, not too slow, not too fast. But then, a crowd spawns from the middle of norwhere as you're passing a street and.. Your gone. He looks around, but there aren't any signs of you anywhere. Standing at the sidewalk of the intersection, he sighs, frowning. Just as quick as you showed up, you dissapeared.

He doesn't know why, but he has a feeling this person will haunt his mind until he finally finds them again. Hell- they already are. And it's making him increasingly frustrated that he didn't try and come up to you. His grip tightening a bit on the bag, he makes a promsie to himself. He'll find you. Even if it's the last thing he'll do.. He'll find you.