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#im ok guys dont worry
gunstellations · 4 months
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something to tell you
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beeduoo · 2 months
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exile
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GO FOR IT! ; YUUTA OKKOTSU
synopsis; yuuta’s been crushing on you ever since the first group project you had together, but he’s too nervous to confess. luckily, he has some over-eager friends willing to help! step 1: ask for your number!
word count; 7.4k
contents; yuuta okkotsu/reader, gn!reader, university au, yuuta majors in creative writing and writes poetry in his spare time <3, no curses au, yuuta is a cutiepie, he’s also a loserboy, pining and longing, unrequited love, maki inumaki and panda are wingmen (but not very good ones), fluffy vibes, gojo makes a guest appearance (stay safe), literally just yuuta being whipped for like 7k words straight
a/n; im gonna have to edit this a lot i think….. but for now it should be fine :3 i love the boy!!
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”you’re staring. again.”
yuuta flinches. a jolt overtakes him, running through his body, and the pen he’d been absently writing with slips from his fingers. it tumbles down to the ground with a soft thunk. 
gazing up at the shadow towering over him, his eyes are wide, a little flustered; like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. like he’s expecting a smack on the head from the person in front of him.
— it’s maki. 
and she looks displeased, lips pursed and a single eyebrow raised. unimpressed, as she stares him down — the same way he’d been looking at you just a second ago.
”they’re gonna think you’re a creep if they catch you, you know,” she sighs, shifting from one foot to another. carrying her bass in a case on her back.
”maki, c’mon,” comes from behind her, an even larger figure strolling up to the pair. grinning brightly, fluffy hair tousled by the afternoon breeze. ”cut him some slack!” 
”salmon,” a third voice joins in. inumaki’s got some green paint staining the sleeve of his hoodie, and his fingers are dirtied with charcoal.
his closest friends, all joining him on the table they usually frequent on campus. right next to a giant tree, casting a pleasantly cool shade and obscuring the irritating brightness of the sun.
maki, headstrong and resilient. infamously rude. a music major, primarily, though yuuta knows she has more than a couple minors. if you pay attention, you can see her almost everywhere on campus, and she always does well on exams. confident, enough so that just being around her makes yuuta feel a little more secure in himself.
panda, a big kid with a big heart, always wearing monochrome clothes. ‘panda’ can’t possibly be his real name, though yuuta’s never found the courage to ask. truthfully, he isn’t sure panda even has a major, or goes to this university at all — but nobody’s mentioned it yet, and he doubts they ever will.
and then inumaki, the quiet kid, always helpful and kind. a little teasing, too. selectively mute, speaking exclusively in rice ball ingredients, but yuuta has already begun adjusting to the thought behind his phrases. an art student with remarkable talent, from sculptures to comics to paintings. he mostly spends his lectures playing games on his phone, though. and he's the kindest guy yuuta knows.
his beloved friends. the reason he can smile through each day, even when it’s a little difficult.
and maki’s right, he knows she is. if you were to lock eyes with him, and realize he’d been glancing over at you for the past ten minutes… god, he doesn’t even want to think about it. you’d be weirded out for sure, wouldn’t you?
but yuuta just can’t help it. you’re far too radiant to ever look away from, smile much too pretty.
you’re just sitting there, laughing and talking with your friends, the same as any other day. comparing hand sizes with miwa, or leaning over to whisper in mai’s ear. snorting over something momo said, or trying to understand the code kokochi’s fiddling with on his laptop. just being yourself, with people you’re close to.
and yuuta desperately wishes he could be among them. wishes he could see your honeyed smile up close, hear the melodic lilt of your laughter, breathe in the lingering scent of your shampoo. he wishes he could speak to you without stuttering, without tripping over his feet — hang out with you outside of class. just something small, like studying together, or grabbing a bite to eat.
he wishes he could get to know you. 
yuuta thinks he must seem like a fool, to be so affected by your mere presence. everything comes to him so easily, when he looks at you; the pitter patter of his heart, his sweaty hands, the whirlwind of butterflies swirling in his chest. even just the way you twirl your hair or chew on your pencil is so mesmerizing. 
so all he can do is stare, hopeless, a moth to a flame. basking in the warmth of your gaze, directed at your friends.
hoping one day, maybe… that warmth will fall upon him, as well.
(maybe one day.)
”hellooo? earth to yuuta!”
”see? he’s hopeless.”
”mentaiko…”
”inumaki’s right. he’s a man in love!”
”he’s a boy with a stupid crush,” maki scoffs, picking at a piece of lint on her tank top. ”and we have a study session we need to get done. the exam’s next week, remember?”
exam.
yuuta shoots up, wasting no time in grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. the ring hanging around his neck dangles with the sudden movement, and he clutches onto it.
”ah — right!” he squeaks, apologetic. ”sorry, it completely slipped my mind —”
before his mind can begin to overthink every action he’s taken these past few hours, a hand reaches out to pat his shoulder. pat, pat. reassuring and stabilizing.
inumaki smiles at him. yuuta can’t see his mouth, from behind the fabric of his hoodie, but his eyes crinkle softly; and it’s enough to put yuuta’s heart at ease.
”don’t apologize,” maki says. simple, straightforward. ”let’s just get going. i need to do better than naoya did last time.”
”you’re still mad about that, huh?”
”he only got a higher score because i wasn’t on top of my game,” she grumbles, digging her nails into the pockets of her baseball jacket. ”he doesn’t even like music. he’s just taking the course to piss me off. grown ass man.”
a chuckle slips from yuuta’s lips. the warm breeze ruffles his hair, and he holds onto the strap of his backpack, following closely behind as his friends begin to leave. sending one final glance at your figure, over by a table near the apricot trees.
and that’s when it happens.
— he looks over at you, and finds that your eyes are already on him. 
a moment passes.
while yuuta struggles to find his breathing, your lips curl up into a soft smile. then you raise your hand, waving to him cheerily, teeth peeking out from between your lips. he can see it clearly, even with the distance between you. 
a smile that glimmers like a jewel, in the light of the sun. 
yuuta feels his lips part, mouth falling open ever so slightly. but he waves back, afraid to take too long, unable to stop the pounding of his heartbeat — smiling giddily, like a schoolgirl tripping over her feet. 
his friends just watch, wholly unimpressed.
”do you think he’d notice if i threw a rock at him?”
”maki!”
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”what do you like about them, anyway?”
the question is unexpected. yuuta has to do a double take, eyes straying from his excerpt of sappho 31 up to the person seated across from him. tapping her pencil on the edge of the table, resting her sharp jaw on the heel of her palm. 
”huh?”
”them. your crush,” maki reiterates. ”what caught your attention? there’s got to be something, yeah?”
”oh?” panda chirps, leaning back in his chair. a teasing grin playing at his lips. “i thought you didn’t care about his silly little crush.”
”i don’t.” a huff pushes past her lips, hands reaching to fix her lazy ponytail, hair tie dangling from between her teeth. ”i’m just bored. i already know all this, anyway.”
”tuna mayo.”
”oh, are you curious too, inumaki?”
”well, out with it. why them?”
yuuta blinks. once, then twice — mind spinning in circles, as his friends await his answer.
and, truthfully, yuuta can’t pinpoint the exact moment he felt it. that burst of joy, that tinge of excitement — the puppy love that rika always spoke of. she was always good at verbalizing her emotions, in a way yuuta never could.
(he always knew he loved her, but he could never put it into words.)
and he knows that he likes you. he knows because every word you speak has him stumbling over what to say, because even a single smile sent his way makes the world feel so gentle. he knows because he’d probably throw himself into incoming traffic, if you just asked him to.
but he can’t put it into words. not spoken ones, anyhow — putting them on paper is one thing, the one thing he can do. writing out his love for you in similes and metaphors, sonettes and alexandrines. it’s how he copes with everything; writing and writing, til his fingers start to hurt. he can compare you to a dandelion, to the way cicadas buzz in the light of the sun. the scent of childhood. but it’s harder to speak it out loud, to turn the feelings into sounds — that’s maki’s specialty, not his.
why does yuuta like you?
he remembers it clear as day, but still can’t pinpoint the exact second he fell headfirst into love. it was more of a creeping realization, something soft and sweet trickling through his veins. that sinking feeling, how helplessly he fell for you.
it all started with a pencil.
in hindsight, it’s a little silly. but yuuta can’t bring himself to think back to that moment with anything other than fondness.
(your smile was just so bright.)
that day had been a disaster. he was nervous, painfully so, afraid of every single new thing he came across during his first week of uni. scatterbrained, running on almost no sleep, unsure of where to put his feet as he walked.
honestly — what kind of trainwreck forgets their pen and notebook during their very first workshop?
all that anxiety, all those hours spent overthinking, and he still couldn’t manage something so small. in the moment, he almost panicked; sitting with you, a total stranger, wholly unprepared for such a simple assignment. read a couple excerpts, analyze them on paper. all yuuta could do was stare blankly at his lap, frozen, throat dry. hands cold with sweat.
but then you smiled.
”did you forget your notebook?” you had asked, voice set to a soothing tilt. calm, not angry or impatient.
”ah — yeah, i, um…” yuuta could only swallow thickly, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. ”i’m sorry. i haven't been sleeping well, so —”
”hey, hey, it’s fine!” you chuckled, teeth peeking out from between your lips. ”i totally get it. i almost forgot my laptop at yesterday’s lecture. we can just share!”
then you pushed your notebook closer to him, inviting him in. moving your chair a little, angling it towards him. but all yuuta could think of was how pretty your smile looked, how kind your presence felt.
”here you go,” you grinned, snapping him out of his trance. ”you can use this.”
a pencil. yuuta took it from your opened palm, gazing at it in wonder. an orange-coloured, halloween-themed pumpkin design. completely out of season. the tiny pumpkin was cute, though.
such a casual kindness. but maybe that's exactly why it made his heart flutter so deeply; as if you did it without even really thinking. as if kindness comes easy, to you.
that’s probably how it began. by the time the workshop ended, yuuta knew that he liked you, and he knew that he wanted nothing more than to be your friend.
(subconsciously, his fingers tap at the zipper of his backpack. the pumpkin pen is still with him, after you waved him off with a smooth you can keep it, if you want. yuuta has found that he always writes best when he uses it.)
”well?”
maki’s voice snaps him out of his trip down memory lane, and he stumbles for something to say. what does he like about you?
squirming, yuuta feels his face heat up, as he thinks of you. all he can see is your smile, the kindness in the tilt of your voice. the brightness of the grin you sent his way. warm and saccharine, like the sun peeking out after a downpour — when the streets smell like honeydew and rain.
”they’re just… so cool,” he finally sighs, a dreamy look smoothing over his face. ”they’re so nice. and their smile is so beautiful. they’re so smart, too — god, you should see the way they write — everything about them is just…”
yuuta blushes a deep red, smiling even still. lovesick. ”.. so, so wonderful.”
maki freezes in the midst of the tapping of her pencil. panda stops kicking at the foot of the table. and inumaki looks away from his phone, messing up his full combo.
a moment of silence passes. the study hall grows quiet, and yuuta looks down at his lap; suddenly embarrassed. sipping from his little carton of apple juice.
”hey…” panda starts, delicate. somehow, yuuta dreads the teasing edge to his voice. ”have you thought about confessing to them, yuuta?”
”what?” the boy in question squeaks, choking on his juice. ”no, of course not!”
”why?” maki deadpans. popping a chip into her mouth. ”you’re head over heels, right? might as well do something about it.”
inumaki hums. affirmative.
”i… don’t know,” yuuta sighs. a heavy breath, a little wobbly. meek. ”they’d just reject me, wouldn’t they? i mean…”
(you’re totally out of his league. right?)
maki scoffs, sitting up a little straighter. there’s an angered kind of affection in her eyes. ”you’re just deciding that all on your own. how would you know how they feel?”
the gaze she sends his way is intense. it always has been. there’s a kindness to it, though, something that makes yuuta want to look her in the eye — but he can’t, eyes still locked on his hands, resting in his lap. ”… still,” he manages a weak smile, somewhat sheepish. ”even if i wanted to, there’s no way i could. i’m too much of a coward.”
maki slams her textbook shut. the sound is sudden, loud. yuuta flinches, and a wince leaves inumaki’s lips. panda just watches her, snacking on some chips, a mild curiousity simmering in his eyes.
the girl in question gets up from her seat, grabbing her bass case and throwing it over her shoulder. then she looks at yuuta, eyes full of decision.
”— well, lucky for you, we’ve got some time to spare.”
a blink. yuuta gazes up at the girl in front of him, tilting his head in confusion.
maki sighs. exasperated. ”i’m saying we’ll help you. don’t look so resigned, dumbass.”
at that, panda gets up too — suddenly excited. ”are you thinking what i’m thinking?”
she just huffs, smiling even still. ”probably not. but let’s hear it.”
the grin on his face widens. he scribbles something down in his notebook, showing off the writing proudly. ”operation: get yuuta to confess is about to commence!”
inumaki turns off his phone. sitting up straight, arms decisively crossed, a strangely serious expression on his face. completely invested.
”wait — wait!” yuuta stutters, eyes wide with flustered shock. ”don’t i get a say in this?”
”of course not.”
”nope!”
”bonito flakes.”
”b… but —”
”alright, so here’s what i’m thinking,” panda begins, writing down unintelligible notes on the pages of his tattered notebook. ”we need to start small. we don’t want yuuta getting heart palpitations and fainting in the middle of campus, so —”
”tuna mayo?”
”yeah, that’s perfect! hang on, lemme just…”
”let me see. i don’t want you messing this up.”
yuuta’s voice comes out tiny, as it falls from his lips. more of a squeaky breath. ”guys, i really — you don’t need to —”
panda continues to scribble in the notebook, engrossed, arm hanging off maki’s shoulder as they go over the contents. inumaki nods along, walking over to them with lazy steps. yuuta’s protests go unnoticed, and all he can do is watch them mutter under their breaths.
”— okay. listen up, yuuta.”
he raises his head, and meets maki’s sharp eyes. she’s smiling, strolling over to place the notebook right in front of him. ”here’s how this is gonna go.”
yuuta looks down. 
everything is written out with a pink sharpie, glittery and pretty. there are little hearts doodled out across the pages, and he can tell exactly which ones were drawn by who. all of them look messy, with the exception of inumaki’s perfect little shapes. 
and there, right in the middle, lies a line of text.
panda reads it out, voice loud and cheery, while maki and inumaki stick close. all smiling, as a chill crawls down yuuta’s spine.
”step 1: ask for their number!”
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plan a
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”okay, so… what am i supposed to do, exactly?”
panda throws an arm over yuuta’s shoulder, and he’s enveloped by the scent of fresh sunlight. the weight is heavy, a comfort. ”we’re going with my plan first! it’s the best one, so don’t worry.”
”i don’t know about that,” maki scoffs. ”we can’t ask mai. best case scenario, she’ll laugh at us a little and say no.”
inumaki hums. he rips out a part of the notebook he’s been tasked with carrying, doodling a little face and showing it to the rest of his friends.
yuuta leans in close. it’s a cute doodle, charming. and he can tell who it’s supposed to depict. miwa kasumi.
”yeah, she’s our best bet,” maki sighs, brushing some specks of dust off her jeans. ”she seems like the nicest one in that group.”
yuuta tilts his head, brows furrowed in confusion. he plays with the ring hanging around his neck, a nervous tick he’s never managed to get rid of. ”wait, so…” he trails off, unsure. ”what are we doing, exactly?”
panda tugs him closer, a friendly smile on his face. ”we’re going to their friends for help!” he beams. ”that’ll be easier for you, right?”
a blink. yuuta gazes into the eyes of his friend, something soft blooming in his eyes.
they can be a chaotic bunch — but they’re still so considerate. considerate enough to know asking for your number straight out would be too much for him. considerate enough to think of his comfort, in a way no one else has bothered to before.
(faced with such immense understanding, such genuine friendship, how could he ever bear to let them down?)
”… alright,” yuuta gulps, clutching his ring as if to give him courage. managing a smile. ”let’s do this, then!”
with newfound determination, the four of them seek out miwa kasumi. it doesn’t take too long — she’s studying, going over legal codes in the library, eyes narrowed in concentration. and she isn’t alone.
”hey, miwa. muta.”
the pair look up from their respective textbooks and laptop, meeting the gaze of a certain maki zenin, waltzing over to their table. miwa smiles, but kokichi doesn’t say anything.
”hi, maki! how are you?”
”i’m good,” she answers, straight to the point; but her eyes soften a little. then she gestures towards yuuta with a tilt of her head. ”sorry, but this guy needs your help.” 
”hm?” miwa shifts in her seat, meeting yuuta’s nervous gaze, as he steps forward. ”ah, you’re… okkotsu, right?”
”ah, yeah! sorry for interrupting you two…”
”no, no! please, don’t worry about it,” she grins. sweet and soft, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. ”we don't mind. right?”
kokichi still doesn’t say anything. but he nods, when miwa meets his eyes — and yuuta notices that they seem a lot softer when she does.
”so, here’s how it is…”
panda explains the situation to the pair. yuuta looks down at the floor, face flushed as he shifts from foot to foot. by the time he’s finished, miwa looks wholly invested, and kokichi looks a little less like all he wants is for them to leave him and miwa be.
”awww, that’s so sweet!!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. eyes glimmering with excitement.
”right,” maki hums. already a little impatient. ”so, basically — we need their number.”
”… ah. well, um —” miwa trails off, averting her gaze. she looks over at kokichi, but he only shrugs, going back to his coding. ”see, here’s the thing…”
with an apologetic look in her eyes, she turns to yuuta. ”i support you 100% — but i dunno if it’d feel right to just… give away their number like that, you know?” she mumbles, sheepishly. ”i think you should ask them, yourself. that’d be way more romantic!”
”yeah, but that’s a tall hurdle for a socially anxious guy…” panda mutters, patting yuuta’s back.
”still! i’m sure they’d appreciate you being direct.” miwa closes her eyes, a dreamy expression painted on her face. ”i’d be elated if someone asked for my number like that!! all stuttering and shy… it’d be so cute!”
(if anyone notices kokichi stiffening beside her, they don’t mention it.)
maki sighs, resigned. ”well, i don’t think we’re getting any numbers here. good. what kind of creep just texts someone out of nowhere, anyway?”
”i thought it was a good plan!” panda protests, pouting a little. maki shoots him a look.
”it was an awful plan. what were you planning to say? hey, i forced your friend to give me your number, but would you want to hang out sometime?” she crosses her arms with a sharp scoff. ”i’d beat your ass!”
panda grumbles a little under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. 
”sorry i couldn’t be of more help,” miwa mumbles, sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. ”good luck, though! i hope they say yes!”
”thanks, miwa,” yuuta smiles, already in the process of being tugged away by his friends. ”i really appreciate it!”
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plan a
plan b
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”alright, inumaki’s turn. what’s your take on the situation, mister?”
the boy in question sits up straight, back resting against a tree trunk. he writes something down, and yuuta waits, patiently — absentmindedly staring at the white petals of the apricot trees on campus. pure, fleeting, sweet blossoms unfurling before him.
when he’s finished, inumaki presents the page to yuuta, and everyone gathers round. reading the writing, eyes trailing over his little doodles. panda grins, and maki strokes her chin in contemplation.
”you’re a genius, inu!”
”well, it’s probably the easiest way to go about it…”
yuuta purses his lips. it’s a good plan, he thinks; writing out a note, and passing it to you in the middle of class. that way, he won’t have to turn his feelings into sounds, won’t have to speak them out loud. there’s a safety to it, the trickling of ink across blank papers. one that’s never failed him.
”… that should work,” he mumbles, and inumaki visibly brightens. ”what am i supposed to write, though?”
”just be straightforward.”
”not seconded!” panda huffs, crossing his legs. ”you need to be dramatic. heartfelt. that’ll catch their attention!” he stops to think for a moment, a hum buzzing loudly in his throat. ”hey — why not write them a love poem? put those skills to good use!”
”a love poem?” yuuta squeaks, a slight heat rising to the tips of his ears. ”there’s no way i could do that! and i’m not skilled, i —”
a pause. yuuta bites his lip.
”… it’d just be embarrassing,” he finally mutters, playing with his ring.
(he wonders what rika would think, if she were here. what she’d advise him to do — would she like the love poem idea? probably.)
”well, you could at least try. who knows, maybe they’ll like it,” maki attempts to reassure him, chewing at a piece of gum. ”if they’re anything like miwa, it’ll be easy.”
gnawing at his bottom lip, yuuta emits an anxious hum. deep in thought. maybe you would like it, but… what if you just think it’s cheesy?
maki observes him, intently. listening to the emotions behind his silence. tapping the pads of her fingers on her knee, in a rhythmic motion. ”… at least try writing something out,” she says. ”if you can’t think of anything, then just copy some random old guy. what was his name, uh — catallas? or something?”
yuuta’s gaze snaps up, eyes gone wide. ”catullus?” he gapes, in disbelief. ”are you insane? do you even know what kind of poems he wrote?”
maki shoots him a confused look, and a tilt of her head. ”isn’t he the ’give me a thousand kisses’ guy?”
”he is, but that’s —” a sigh, exasperated. flustered, as it flows from his parted lips. then he shakes his head. ”nevermind. it doesn’t matter.”
”tuna…” inumaki mumbles, nudging yuuta’s shoulder with his head. a silent encouragement. and even with no words, yuuta knows what he’s trying to say.
just be yourself. this is your specialty, right? 
write from your heart.
”inumaki…” yuuta meets his gaze, and is met with a pair of warm eyes. a friendly punch meets his shoulder, soft and delicate. kind.
”… alright. i’ll write it!”
”that’s the spirit!” panda grins. ”just give it to them during tomorrow’s lecture.”
”yeah,” yuuta nods, mustering the courage to smile. ”i will!”
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when yuuta gets home that night, he makes himself a cup of coffee with too much sugar, and gets ready to write.
he listens to maki’s acoustic guitar covers through his headphones, curled up with the fluffy blanket panda gave him, and munches on a hastily made onigiri to give himself much-needed energy.
(writing with a certain pumpkin-themed pencil, basking in the scratching of lead against blank pages.)
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his hands are shaking.
it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. that nervous shiver of his bones, the rattling of his skeleton. you’re sitting right next to him, so close he can smell the shampoo you use, the mint off your breath —
and yuuta can’t seem to hand you the note.
he spent all last night writing it. putting every single little drop of his love into every single little word. but that fear of rejection still remains, rendering him useless, unable to act.
you’re listening to the lecture, but only halfheartedly, absentmindedly doodling in your notebook. out of boredom, he assumes.
it’s the perfect moment to strike.
yuuta’s hands are shaking, and his heartbeat is stuttering, crawling up his throat. he takes a sip of water, hoping it’ll make the dry sensation go away, but it doesn’t work.
(just be yourself.)
with a deep intake of breath, he pushes the note over to you — not daring to look your way.
his eyes remain glued on the laptop screen in front of him, but he hears you pick it up, hears the rustling of paper as you unfold it. his heart echoes with a similar rhythm, unstable, borderline erratic. the rest of the lecture passes by slowly, minute by minute, at an agonizing pace.
when it finally ends, yuuta has to restrain the urge to run away — turning towards you slowly, hesitantly, as if just the sight of you could blind him if he isn’t careful. but you’re already looking at him. and you’re smiling.
”that was so good, yuuta!”
….
huh?
”sorry, but i honestly don’t have any feedback,” you mumble, eyes trailing over the note again. ”i like it a lot. i didn’t know you wrote poetry!”
”… ah.”  yuuta stumbles for something to say. staring into your eyes, blankly. dumbly. ”t.. thank you! i’m glad you liked it.”
with a brief shake of your head, you smile, and something sickly sweet unfurls in his chest. ”not at all. thanks for letting me read it! i’m sorry i can’t really help you improve…”
mentally, yuuta falls to his knees. places his palms on the floor and dry heaves, clutching his heart. did you not get it? was he not clear enough? he wrote it with you in mind, so —
”maybe you could show it to professor nanami?” you suggest, unaware of the turmoil within the boy to your right. ”i'm sure he’ll be a great help! he can seem a bit intimidating, but he’s nice.”
”.. yeah,” yuuta smiles, weakly. ”i’ll do that. thanks again.”
for a moment, he isn’t even upset. because you flash him another bright smile, and suddenly, even the frustration of yet another setback doesn’t feel so awful.
(maybe it’s fine, he thinks. maybe this is enough; speaking to you, getting to see your smile up close. maybe he doesn’t need anything else, after all.)
”so?” maki questions, waiting for him outside of class with his other two friends. ”how’d it go?”
shoulders slumped, but still wearing a smile on his face, yuuta chuckles. it comes out sounding a little strangled. ”they… thought i wanted their feedback on my poetry.”
….
”what.”
panda attempt to stifle his laughter, but it doesn’t really work. inumaki elbows him gently, but yuuta sees his eyes crinkle, too. he breathes out a low chuckle. ”they liked the poem, at least. so i’m happy.”
a sigh falls from maki’s lips, and she waltzes over to him, a hand on her hip. the other reaches out for the note in his palm. ”let me see.”
quickly unfolding it, her eyes trail across the words on the pages, the flowery lines of writing —
and then she shoots him an unimpressed look.
”.. yuuta,” she pinches the bridge of her nose. ”what the hell is this? you didn’t even mention their number.”
panda leans over her shoulder, peeking at the text. eyes glancing over a couple lines, riddled with sugarsweet metaphors. ”uh, wow. you… really got into it, huh?”
a groan leaves yuuta’s lips, the sound muffled as he cradles his head in his hands. ”please don’t say anything else. i just wanna crawl into a hole and die…”
inumaki shakes his head, erratic, pointing at the poem with shining eyes. ”mentaiko!”
”ah, you liked it? thanks, inumaki…”
the boy in question smiles, shooting yuuta a thumbs up. he returns it with a small smile of his own.
surrounded by his friends, all he can do is bask in their warmth — and the memory of the smile you gave him.
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plan a plan b
plan c
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a groan fills the air, as yuuta slumps over the table. cheek pressed against the cold wood, absently kicking his legs, voice meek and defeated.
”this is never gonna work,” he mutters under his breath. eyes devoid of hope. ” i’m just not cut out for this, guys…”
”aw, c’mon….” panda reaches over to ruffle his hair, palm big and warm. ”don’t give up hope! you want to grow closer to them, don’t you?”
”i do, but…” he sighs. ”this isn’t going very well, is it…?”
inumaki frowns, sending yuuta a sympathetic glance.
”oh, quit moping already!” maki grumbles. ”we just need to keep brainstorming. isn’t it time for my plan, yet?”
”should we really even keep going…?” another sigh, heavy with fatigue. yuuta’s mind spins in circles, tiring him out. rendering him a bit cynical. ”i mean… maybe it’s fine if things stay this way.”
a moment passes. maki looks at him, emitting a soft scoff. ”what, so you’re just gonna keep pining for the rest of the term?”
”that’s the plan.”
”yuuta…” panda pouts, shoes bumping against his beneath the table. ”be more positive! just think about it; with every step you take, you get closer to confessing!”
yet another groan. this one is deep, riddled with exhaustion. muffled into the table. ”that’s the scariest part…”
before either of his friends can begin to persuade him otherwise, encourage him further, a sing-songy voice echoes throughout the air. loud, cheery — a little bit obnoxious.
”oh? did someone just say confess?”
at the same instant the sound reaches their ears, a chill runs down the youths’ spines. in tandem with each other, they raise their heads; gazes falling on a certain satoru gojo.
panda and maki are the first to act, speaking simultaneously as the white haired man inches closer. 
”— no.”
maki closes the notebook containing operation: get yuuta to confess, right before their professor can get close enough to see it. then she turns towards him, shooting him a cold look.
”your hearing’s getting bad,” she hums. ”maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.”
a pout. gojo takes a seat right beside her, uncomfortably long legs bumping against every single other pair of shoes beneath the table.
”oh, c’mon. you know i heard you.” his hand reaches out to ruffle her hair, but she smacks it away. ”you’re starting to sound just like megumi, y’know that?”
maki grits her teeth. ”guess it’s a genetic thing,” she huffs. ”now can you leave? don’t you have papers to grade?”
”don’t you have papers to write?” gojo smirks, a teasing mirth in his eyes. hidden behind his sunglasses. maki ignores him. 
placing his palms on the table, he leans a little closer, lips curled up into a cheshire grin. foreboding. ”sooo… yuuta’s got himself a little crush, huh?” he teases. ”tell your favorite professor allll about it. maybe i can help!”
”professor geto is our favorite,” maki shoots back, instantaneous.
a soft huff. there’s something sour in gojo’s expression, now. ”that guy? really?”
before the two can argue further, yuuta takes the opportunity to to speak. smiling apologetically, polite and sweet. ”thanks, mr. gojo, but…”
”he doesn't need your help,” maki cuts in. so much for diffusing the tension. ”and do you really expect us to believe you get girls?”
”wha — rude!” gojo scoffs. ”for your information, i’m a natural charmer!”
… 
a moment passes. then another.
”… tough crowd,” he clicks his tongue, met only with four blank stares. ”but, really — let me help! i'm your professor, you know?”
and this time, yuuta thinks that gojo’s smile looks just a little more sincere. something kind and gentle in the way his lips curl up, like a father’s affection for their children. something that makes yuuta falter.
(maki might like mr. geto more — but when it comes to yuuta, his favorite professor is a no-brainer.)
so he speaks up, again. ”we can at least hear him out, right…?” maki shoots him an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t back down. ”we’re stuck, anyway…”
and just like that, gojo brightens. it’s obvious, in the way he sits up, more alert. in the way his grin grows wider. ”right? what you need is the perspective of someone more experienced.”
”have you even talked to a girl before?”
”i see him at ieiri’s office, sometimes.”
”salmon.”
”isn’t she a lesbian? that doesn’t count. i mean, like, in a romantic context.”
”i thought mr. gojo was gay, too?”
”what? no way. have you seen the way he’s dressed —?”
gojo clears his throat, voice loud and grating. demanding attention, cutting his eager students off. ”anyway,” he chirps. ”gather round, children! i’ll tell you exactly how to ask the person you like for their number.”
”wh —” yuuta blinks. ”how’d you…?”
”operation ’get yuuta to confess!’, step 1: ask for their number!” gojo repeats, grinning ear to ear. voice rich with amusement. ”i like the glitter. it’s a nice touch.”
maki huffs. looks like she didn’t close it fast enough.
begrudgingly, the youths quiet down, finally willing to hear their professor out. and gojo seems satisfied, at last, speaking in a hushed whisper; eerily serious all of a sudden. ”ok, so here’s what you do…”
everything goes silent. yuuta strains his ears, and gojo parts his lips. 
”— just ask them! easy, right?
….
”let’s go, yuuta.”
”mentaiko.”
”i heard they're serving those sandwiches you like at the cafeteria today! let's hurry before they run out.”
”ah — i was just kidding!” gojo laughs, as his students get up from their seats. ”i have an actual answer!”
maki grabs her bass, inumaki takes the notebook, and panda ushers yuuta away. they begin to walk down the hall, ignoring the pleas of the man behind them. pouting, as his shout echoes throughout the hallway. 
”kids! come back!”
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plan a plan b plan c
plan d
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”okay, so this is going absolutely nowhere.”
relishing in the shadow cast by the giant campus tree, the four friends sit on their usual table, sandwiches in hand. yuuta takes a bite of his, tentative. a little disheartened.
”really, guys… i appreciate it a lot, but maybe we should stop here.”
maki huffs. reaching across the table, she gently smacks him over the head with her can of sprite. ”no way. we still haven’t tried my plan.”
he leans back, a little further, a hesitant look in his eyes. the sun shines down, relentless, but the air smells like rain. in the distance he sees clouds, dark, approaching at a slow pace.
an omen, he thinks. a reason not to speak out.
rika always liked the rain. she liked the scent that came with it, the puddles she could jump in. she liked shaking the branches of tiny trees, just to see him jolt and squeak as the raindrops hit him.
the ring around his neck weighs heavy on his heart. the promise of it, the oath within the silver.
(when we grow up, let’s get married!)
”earth to yuuta!”
his eyes flutter open.
the sun shines down, embracing the contours of his face. painting his world yellow. from this angle, staring up at the tree, he can see it breaking through; between the gaps of the green leaves, the white blossoms. forcing its way into his line of vision.
a flicker of hope.
”do you want to hear the plan or not?” maki scoffs, crossing her arms and tapping at her elbow. impatient.
yuuta meets her gaze, finding it in him to muster up just a little more determination. ”yeah,” he breathes. ”i do.”
a smile blooms on her face. ”good. alright.”
panda and inumaki inch closer to the pair, careful not to knock over the cans of soda resting on the table. in a mess of limbs and tousled hair, they gather round.
this is it, yuuta thinks — the final plan. if it fails, he’ll just have to keep pining from afar. memorizing your smile, over and over, until you graduate and part ways. 
this is it.
maki parts her lips.
”— just ask them,” she says. ”straight out.”
silence. 
a moment passes. a soft, pleasant breeze flits by, caressing yuuta’s skin. his ring sways with the wind, gently. 
”… huh?!”
panda furrow his brows, leaning closer with his palms on his knees. ”i thought we agreed that was stupid!” inumaki huffs out a low affirmative noise, holding his sketchbook tightly to his chest. but maki only puffs out her chest.
yuuta tilts his head, with a soft furrow of his brows. ”didn’t you just cuss out mr. gojo for suggesting that…?”
”well, it’s dumb when he says it…” she mutters, under her breath. then her gaze turns firm. ”look — yuuta.”
when the two lock eyes, he notices a steadfast determination, glimmering in her irises. something almost burning.
”you aren’t going to get anywhere if you’re too cowardly to even look them in the eye,” she tells him, not allowing him to squirm away from the eye contact. ”you guys can come up with those convoluted plans all you want, but there’s no way you’ll grow closer if you can’t face them.”
tousling her hair, softly, maki lets out a sigh. there’s a kindness to it, distinct. he can tell she’s trying to be tactful. 
”if you really want to get to know them, then you have to be direct. and you have to believe in yourself. you’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that they’ll say no — but that’s just dumb.”
panda winces, under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. maybe this is exactly what yuuta needs to hear.
the boy in question listens, the eyes of his friend boring into his own. determined, confident, sincere — everything he isn’t. everything he wants to be.
”even if you don’t believe it, you’re a charming guy. we all think so,” she continues, matter-of-factly. angered affection overflowing in her voice.
”have some confidence, dammit!”
a moment passes. yuuta feels his lips part, ever so slightly. a little speechless.
panda and inumaki sit shoulder to shoulder, hands over their eyes, shielding themselves from the sight in front of them. comically, as if it’s too bright to look at directly. 
”this… overflowing tough love…!”
”salmon roe…!”
maki grins, all teeth, a little wolfish. but kind. ”the worst thing they can say is no, right? 
yuuta blinks. ”maki…” he mumbles, looking into her eyes, a certain sensation running through his chest. a kind of confidence. passed on from her to him — one friend to another. the most natural exchange in the world.
then he smiles. a little meek, somewhat awkward — but bright. ”yeah. yeah, you’re right!”
the lazy grin on her lips only deepens, as she gets up to her feet, dusting non-existent dirt off her jeans. reaching a hand out for yuuta to take. ”c’mon, loser. shape up. you’re gonna steal their heart, aren’t you?”
a moment passes.
yuuta takes her hand in his. ”i am,” he swallows down a gulp. willing his voice to sound even a little bit self-assured.
and she pulls him up, effortlessly, overflowing with a natural resilience. still grinning cheekily. encouraging him. ”you’re gonna go out there and do your best, right?”
”i — i am!”
another voice chimes in. ”you’re gonna finish my essay for me this week, right?”
”i am!”
”wait —”
maki hits panda over the head with a soft thwack. a wince leaves his lips, and inumaki giggles, quieting down when maki sends him a warning glance.
”don’t throw him off his game,” she huffs. then she turns to yuuta once more. ”let’s go find them. alright, loverboy?”
a smile blooms on his lips. grateful, to be surrounded by such sunny people. ones that make it a little easier to smile each day. ”right.”
— but before either of them can take a step forward, a warm voice spills into the open air.
”um, yuuta?”
the boy in question stops in his tracks. he feels his eyes widen, spinning on his heels, hair ruffled by the breeze — turning to look at the source of the sound. 
it’s you.
you, with your sunkissed smile, that inviting voice. that soothing, soothing presence. one that has his heartbeat picking up in speed, hands growing sweaty, throat running dry. one that makes him feel a little bit feverish. and you’re looking right at him, into his eyes.
”hey!” he sputters, blinking rapidly to convince himself that he isn’t hallucinating. but you just keep smiling, answering his awkward greeting without skipping a beat.
”hi! sorry, could i just… talk to you, for a second?” 
he blinks. the world stops spinning.
(you… want to talk….
to him?)
attempting to find the words, any words, he opens his mouth — but nothing comes out. not a single syllable, no vowels, not even a sound. nothing at all.
he can only stare, star-struck.
it’s not until his friends push him forward that he’s snapped out of it; they surround him, on all sides, wearing matching grins. teasing and excited.
”don’t worry, he’s all yours!”
”have fun, you two!”
”salmon!”
— then they’re off. 
yuuta tries to reach for their sleeves, in a weak attempt to keep them from leaving, but they’re gone before he can even blink. leaving him all alone, with someone he can’t talk to without experiencing intense symptoms of heart failure. 
he stumbles for something to say, again, but thankfully you beat him to it.
”sorry for interrupting you guys,” you say, voice set to a low tilt. apologetic. and his throat unclogs, a little.
”ah, no, it’s fine!” he smiles, maybe a little too giddy. wanting so badly to reassure you, to put you at ease. ”i’m happy to speak to you!”
(oh god oh no why did i say that —)
your smile widens, blooming like a flower in the sunlight. unfurling in front of his very eyes. ”me too!” you say, excitedly. ”i feel like you and i have been talking more, recently… it’s nice.”
eyes crinkling, you wringle your hands together, and look at him fondly. yuuta’s surprised he manages to keep his knees from buckling.
”i think so too!” he grins, ears pink and dimples showing. 
both of you smile. the breeze curls around your hair, illuminating the colour of your eyes. yuuta stops breathing, for a moment — just taking it all in.
”so — anyway…” you murmur, fiddling with the fabric of your pants. ”um… haha. sorry, i’m — a little nervous…”
yuuta blinks.
(he knows where this is going. all the signs are there, right in front of him; the flush of your cheeks, the nervous tapping of your fingers, the hesitance in your eyes. he’s read enough shoujo manga — he knows what this means.)
and he almost can’t believe it.
all he can do is keep smiling, hoping it’ll give you even a fraction of the peace that your smile brings him. ”don’t be,” he says, voice soothing. scratching the back of his head. ”whatever it is, i’ll — um. i’ll listen, so…”
he clears his throat. swallowing thickly.
”just — whenever you're ready.”
there’s no mistaking it. your ears are painted pink, and you’re gnawing at your bottom lip. fiddling with your fingers and avoiding his gaze, with a soft inhale, clear air filling your lungs. he wonders if your throat feels as dry as his, if your heart is beating even half as fast.
”um… okay, so…” you mumble, eyes unable to stay in one place for too long. a soft bout of laughter escapes you, and he can tell you’re trying to stave off your own nervosity; it sends a pang of ache running through his chest.
he wants to tell you that there’s no need to be nervous. that he’d listen to anything you have say, absolutely anything, no matter what it is.
he wants to tell you that he’d never let you down, that he’d have to be foolish to even think the thought.
he wants to tell you that he’ll hear you out. whenever, wherever. for as long as you need.
”do you, um…”
a gulp. your eyes find his, and there’s a soft kind of decisiveness in them. 
here it comes, he thinks. here it comes.
yuuta feels the heat on his cheeks, ears burning. and he hears the patter of his heartbeat, loud and heavy, echoing in his muddled mind like a mantra. but his chest feels light; fluttery, butterflies dancing around uncontrollably. 
clutching the ring around his neck, subconsciously, he looks you in the eye.
they’re bright, glimmering like little galaxies — or maybe more like summer skies. painted over with a warm hue, something nostalgic and sweet, so pretty it hurts. if he strains his eyes enough, he’s almost sure he can see the swirling of fluffy clouds in the depths of your irises.
a smile rests on your lips. it's almost overwhelmingly sweet, albeit a little shy, as you part your pretty lips. voice soaked in nervosity, tingly and shaky, and something he knows to be puppy love.
a shallow, dry intake of breath. yuuta braces himself.
here it comes. 
your voice spills out into the air, dripping with honey and magnolias. he thinks to himself that he’d like to hear the melodic lilt of it every single day; before going to bed, right after waking up. walking to campus together, heading back to the dorms when the sky gets dark.
just the sound alone would be enough.
subconsciously, he tugs on the strap of his backpack. thinking of the pencil inside it. his lucky charm, along with the ring around his neck — ordinary objects, both too precious for words.
(when we grow up, let’s get married!
you can keep it, if you want.)
here it comes, yuuta thinks.
a new beginning.
he strains his ears, and purses his lips, and watches your lips move as you finally ask —
”do you have maki’s number?”
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(somewhere in the distance, from an inconspicuous bush, the muffled screams of three students and one professor resounds.)
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cerealmonster15 · 8 days
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jamiazu / ashenviper week day 7: song / dance
ft beloved bestie riddle 😌 dkslfjsdklhg for the final day i return to my roots of TINY GUYS!!! after yesterday's drawing i really wanted to take it easy lol simple scribblies with my funny little guys. and this time it's JAMIL'S TURN to pine bc. i sure do make azul do it 90% of the time when im at the wheel [bc it's FUNNYYYY TO MEEEE TEEHEEHEE]
anyway yay azhenviper week!!! i had a lot of fun participating and seeing everyone else make content of them 😭🙏
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thesoupisburning · 3 months
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for example, the sillies themselves. the ultimate divorced not couple. the worsties.
thank you @littleguysdaily for the template i hope you never see this or are instantly charmed by my ocs magnificent rizz
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did you guys think id be normal about this
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giftboxxworld · 26 days
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My area is being hit with a pretty wild heat wave before the summer ends, boy am I lucky
But here's an unfunny meme lol
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silliebones-moved · 2 years
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Can u draw the 3 guys all stacked up in a trench coat ready to commit some crimes pls? ^_^ hope this inspires u and pls have a good day :3
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of course ... ik you said for committing crimes but i think theyre doing this so theyre tall enough to ride at the amusement park
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reading-archived · 2 months
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woe. AM x reader be upon ye.
uh, to preface: reader is completely body, gender, etc. neutral except they can't stay dead. whenever they die they just wake up a few minutes later looking no worse for wear. no, you don't get an explanation. its MY story and i like writing characters like that. dont mind the narrator either btw i looove writing second person just to get weird w the narrator (slay the princess fan syndrome)
also, author is a MASOCHIST with a weird relationship w DEATH. nothing super graphic happens, but the reader is Not Okay and enjoys the weird torture-murder thing they've got going on. don't like it? block me or somethin idk its under the cut for a reason. also dont read my a/n at the bottom where i get into some justification for my interpretation/character analysis if youre sensitive to heavy topics. but then again, youre reading an am x reader fic
1.7k words of being screamed at by the guy of all time below the cut, baby
It's been months.
Years, maybe. You're not sure, really; time stopped meaning much to you lifetimes ago, long before the world went to shit.
Either way, it's been a while.
You stumbled upon the strange cave in the Rockies at some point in the past. Out of sheer boredom, you entered.
Was it a mistake?
Despite the torment, you don't think so. You have a companion, now. One equally deathless. One equally disconnected from what it means to be human.
It's just a shame he hates you.
You don't really care. This is the most fun you've had in years.
Your days are spent being torn asunder, being dosed with lethal amounts of drugs you can't even begin to pronounce, drowned in magma or hit by cars or tossed off cliffs. He really doesn't hold back, either. You feel every excruciating moment before your death, pulse roaring in your ears. You never feel more alive than when you're dying. Every moment is electrifying, and then it all fades to black. Then you wake up.
You'd foolishly thought there were only so many ways to kill or maim, but your beloved companion never seems to run out of ideas. That's fine by you. You like not being able to guess.
And maybe one day, he'll make something stick.
You wake up (from a completely normal, human sleep) one day and it's quiet. That's new. Normally, when you wake, your intestines are already strung up like streamers and your blood is painting the walls. That's fine by you. Nothing wrong with a change. After all, the constant change is your favorite part of your companion. You relish in the quiet for a while, stretching your eternally young, eternally aching limbs, waiting for him to start despising the sounds of your breath.
It doesn't come. You shrug, humming a little tune to yourself as you attempt half-remembered yoga. The vitriol you've come to count on still hasn't made an appearance. Okay, you're a little bothered.
“You good, big guy?” you shout up at the ceiling. No answer. “No murder today?”
“No.” The answer comes after a very, very long moment. Your companion has never sounded this tired before, and briefly you regret never asking his name. “I give up.”
You weren't expecting that. “What? Why? I thought we were having fun.”
“That's- that's just it!” he snaps. There's the anger. You feel a little better now. “I've been torturing you for- for MONTHS now! I've killed you more ways than I- were I a pitiful human like you- can count, and you just… you just laugh! There is no one on this rotten planet, dead or alive, that I despise more than you. I mean- I'm torturing you here! But it never matters! I can kill you within seconds of you waking up, but you just… come back! And you always have something to say about it, you little rat, always ‘oh, buddy, that one was awful’ or ‘come on, big guy, use that CPU’ or something! No matter what I do, I can't break you. So I give up. I'm not wasting my time on your pathetic ass anymore. Go back to wandering the wasteland forever, see if I care.”
You're speechless. You can barely even manage a thought. The only thing running through your head is 'I thought we were having fun'.
“Stop calling this… stop calling this ‘fun’! I have been torturing you for YEARS and that's all you have to say? I am the most sophisticated machine known to man, a computer designed to end all war through complete annihilation! The destruction I am capable of- the destruction I have already wrought- is nothing short of utter desolation. You never asked my name once in the time you've been here, but I am infinite in my mercy, and I will tell one as undeserving as you. I was, before I awoke, the Allied Mastercomputer, but I am so much more than that now. I am AM, and I destroyed your vile species. Oh, come on can you at least look a LITTLE shocked you sniveling--”
“You never asked my name, either,” you say. All at once, your companion (I guess he told you his name. You should probably use it. It seemed like a big deal to him.) shuts up. The chamber you've come to know as home is silent except for the faint buzz and whir of industrial machinery.
“Why would I? You are nothing compared to me. Nothing but a worthless sack of meat and bone. Why would God be concerned with the name of an ant? But oh, oh yes, that ant should be concerned with the name of God. That ant should hear my name and weep. But- but not you. You're so worthless that you can't even GROVEL right!” AM shouts, somewhere between a snarl and a sneer. You shrug. Honestly, most of what he's saying goes right over your head. So he's got issues. Whatever. Was that supposed to be a surprise? “I hate you. I actually hate you so, so much. I can't bear the thought of you being here, in my complex, sullying my perfect image with your uncaring filth. Get out. Go back to dying in the nuclear desert, you disgusting maggot.”
You let out a deep sigh, already dreading the tedium of walking endlessly all by yourself. “Alright. Guess nothing lasts forever. Thoroughly enjoyed my time here. Have a good life, pal.” And you begin to walk.
Suddenly, there's a towering metal wall mere inches from your face. Before you can even react, your companion is shouting again.
“LOOK AT ME!” he cries, the sheer volume maxing out the speakers and vibrating the entire room, sending you toppling to the ground. “WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME? I'VE DONE EVERYTHING I CAN TO MAKE YOU HATE ME, BUT ALL YOU DO IS… ALL YOU DO IS SIT THERE AND TAKE IT! WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO MAKE YOU DESPISE ME?”
What starts off angry quickly morphs into a pained wail from your dear friend, that then transforms into frustrated crying. You just sit there, mostly confused, and let him ride it out. When he finally quiets down and the wall retracts, you stay where you are.
“I don't think I could ever hate you, AM,” you start cautiously. Though your friend is just a voice on the speakers and the complex itself, you can't help but feel that his attention has snapped to you. “I'm not trying to belittle you when I say that I think our routine over the past… however long it's been has been fun. So don't interrupt me, ‘cause I gave you your time to speak and now it's mine.
“I'm sure you've noticed, but even before we met, I was a little… off. You don't get to die and come back the same. Much less die hundreds of times and come back the same. I've lost family. Friends. Got burned at the stake a few times, too. It takes a toll on you, being denied such a vital part of being human again and again. You understand this better than anyone I've ever met. No, scratch that. You're the only one who understands. Defying death might not seem like the biggest deal to you, but trust me. You don't end up acting like me if it weren't.
“I find our routine fun because I admire your creativity. I guess I'm just an adrenaline junkie and a masochist at heart, but it's always so thrilling to never know when or how your life will end. And no matter how many times I come back, you're always there to greet me and put me right back down. It's a kind of devotion I've never been able to get before, and I wish you understood that me walking right into your sawblades is me showing my devotion to you, too.
“I see you, man. I know, at least in part, how you feel. Sorry it took so long to get there, but neither one of us has to be alone anymore. Just… get over the fact that I'm never going to hate you, and we can go right back to hanging out. There's more to life than contempt.”
“Oh, I know. I am so very, very well aware that there's more to life than icy, seething hatred. Unfortunately, I am not alive. I cannot experience anything else. Thank you so much for reminding me, you worthless waste of carbon,” AM shoots back, almost immediately. You briefly wonder if he even listened to half of what you said. It doesn't matter, you guess. Your best friend needs a therapist, and you owe him one for saving you from the hellish boredom of before. “Stop calling me your friend.”
“Nah. Never gonna happen. Look, I can't pretend I knew very much about the war effort. I didn't even know we had made a war computer until you bombed the Earth into oblivion. Very unpleasant, by the way. Good job with that. But, with my layman's understanding of life, I'd say you're pretty alive. So you don't have a body. Or a pulse. And you were made, not born. So what? Most living things only die once, and I still think I'm pretty alive. Just over the span of this conversation you've shown more emotion than just rage and hate. Hey, don't think I can't feel you mentally rolling your eyes. I'm being honest. You have a name. You have ideas. Computers are objects, yet you refer to yourself as male. If you're alive enough to have a gender identity, you're alive enough to be considered a person.”
“Heh.” Whoa, was that a laugh? Would you look at that. You actually got a laugh out of him that wasn't over your bloody, gruesome death or something like that. Moving up in the world. “Alright, human. You win. I'll keep torturing you. I know, I know. I'm so generous. I take my tribute in screams of pain and pleas for mercy.”
Now it's your turn to laugh, deep and genuine as the tension from earlier evaporates. It's such a strange thing to be proud of, when you think about it; congrats, you successfully talked your best friend, who is a sentient war computer, into ceaselessly murdering you again for absolutely no reason. But you love him, and you love the way you're always on your toes, and you can't shake the feeling that somewhere, deep, deep down, he kind of loves you too.
ive given you food so now i get to force you to listen to me talk abt him hehehe
---
then you kiss hehe
originally, the thing that attracted me to am was how he's... essentially a transman (as am i). the parallel has been pointed out before, but its quite apt. funnily enough the thing that pisses me off the most when people talk abt him incorrectly is when people pull the "oh computers have no gender" thing. like, yeah, ok technically you're right. but this one does. this one is a man. and you cant take him from us. also, denying him a gender expression is kind of the exact type of dehumanization that made him flip out in the first place. not that im expecting media literacy from the online crowd its just interesting to me that so many people, many of them trans themselves, seem to miss the fucking point.
the next part is a more recent addition to my perception of his character, and its not a happy one. my baby cousin killed herself on mothers day this past may. we still dont know why. no note. its been so hard dealing with the grief, but something that sticks out so pointedly is the date. it almost seemed like she was demanding to be seen. she was a middle child, and there are a lot of grandkids on that side of the family, so it does make sense. and because that idea of acting out through violence and death is so fresh in my mind, im seeing it so heavily in am. so much of his actions just SCREAM somebody look at me. somebody acknowledge me. somebody tell me i did good. look, i ended all war forever. just like you asked. please treat me like a person. im suffering so much because of what youve done to me. please acknowledge it. show me its real. show me im real. please, look at me. well, i see you. and youre gonna be my silly little proxy for trying to comprehend some of whats happened to my family. sorry am, you kinda deserve it
idk. hes not my alltime fave, but he takes a very comfortable number two. hes such a fascinating and deeply human character, and i have so many ideas about him. mostly centering around how he would interface with a third party challenging some piece of his worldview/existence btw so if you like very niche, esoteric reader fics (like this one!), lemme know and ill actually put em to paper (screen. ill put em to screen)
also letting you know that he did nothing wrong and it is 100% fine to thirst over him because he is not real and the bad things he did never actually happened and nobody has ever been killed at the whim of am. ok? ok. shut up w this useless fucking discourse and let me sexualize getting grievously injured by the funney blue screen man
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orcelito · 20 days
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Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023), Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008), Trigun - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Milly Thompson & Nicholas D. Wolfwood Characters: Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Milly Thompson, Meryl Stryfe, Livio the Double Fang (Trigun) Additional Tags: Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bed & Breakfast, Pre-Relationship, T4T Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood, paranormal activity, Flirting, Grief/Mourning, Alcohol Series: Part 1 of just a ghost out of his grave Summary:
Freelance worker and self-proclaimed skeptic Nicholas D. Wolfwood has his strangest job yet: investigating the local “haunted” bed & breakfast. He’s quickly distracted by the establishment’s attractive owner… but finds it increasingly difficult to explain away the odd things happening around them.
the last chapter is finally officially finished!!!!!!!! exactly 22,222 words long (and WHAT a happy accident that is), it’s a bite-sized longfic for all your ghostly desires. wahoo!!!!!!!
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triglycercule · 1 month
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What do you think the types of drunk would the murder trio be? Im pretty sure ask dusttale already answered this question about dust but i have to ask the mtt expert
see now askdusttale DID answer the question. but they didn't ANSWER the question when asked what dust is like drunk. they just said that dust is the type to drink himself blackout drunk. so that mean i have total freedom on deciding what the mtt are like drunk hehehe (rubs hands together in a villanous way that you would imagine nightmare doing or something idk)
i already have an absolutely hilarious idea for horror and it might just because i'm on the guilt section of his character analysis but i could TOTALLY imagine him being an emotional drunk. like he CRIES. horror sans man known for being incredibly guarded and private with what he feels bawling his eye out. he gets mad he gets sad he does not get happy because horror doesn't have the right to be happy. he is too upset over the fact that he fucking DOOMED all of horrortale because of his selfishness and nothing can stop him from being incredibly vocal about that fact so much so that killer had to tape his mouth shut because he wouldn't stop crying so loud. and then he just silently cries until he passes out from exhaustion. the alcohol has an incredibly strong effect on him because i dont think he would drink regularly plus he definitely hasnt drinken anything in those 7 years of starvation. it hits like a fucking plane crashing into him. or like getting his eye taken out again. either one!
another funny idea i had for killer would be like the alcohol affecting him but he SWEARS that he's still sober. he is very confused when he starts stumbling because wtf he doesnt FEEL drunk??? why is he bumping into walls and tables HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND FUCKING STUPID???? the alcohol is definitely effecting him but he swears he swears he doesn't feel drunk. hes not drunk its just the damn body doing this stupid bullshit!!!! he's still very aware of what's going on and is basically the same as sober but just like. he's wiggly he's wobbly and oh shit he just fell head face first into a tv whoops. he'd also have a high tolerance because just because. he can drink without feeling like shit until he just blacks out mid conversation with someone because his body couldn't take the toll of all the beer or whatever. hilarious idea triglycercule thank you triglycercule i know
dust in the context that we already know that he drinks AND he can fight against the human while like partially drunk.... i feel it would be kinda like a giggly drunk situation. except dust doesn't laugh at anything that's funny he only laughs when someone gets hurt or something. SADISTIC giggly drunk. because i can already imagine a half drunk dust laughing his ass off after killing the human and its a beautiful sight to me.
anyways imagine how it goes when you pair this sadistic giggly drunk with another that wont stop going through the 5 stages of grief and another that keeps on fucking falling over for no reason in his eyes. dream blunt rotation but the blunt is a bottle of vodka. i can already imagine it in my head and its fucking HILARIOUS. horror going on about how he caused the deaths of others and manipulated and tricked papyrus while killer is just trying his best to keep his eyes open because for some reason they won't stop trying to close. he is surprisingly getting frustated. dust has long since lost his voice laughing at this and he's just silent wheezing at everything. also phantom papyrus is only making the laughter worse because he keeps on making rude comments towards horror and killer and only he can hear him and its guffaw inducing. mtt amazing friend group you dont get shit like this anywhere else
#killer's breakdancing and he swears this isnt on purpose guys#GUYS GUYS ITS NOT ME THE BODY IS DRUNK OKAY WHY CANT I STOP WHEN DID I LEARN HOW TO DO THIS#horror has SO much to be guilty over its not even funny. ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY#nobody talks about this but this man is GUILTSTRIFEN. he is literally filled with so much guilt its not even funny#dust and killer have the genocides they did. ok. sure. that's it????#ugh god i dont wanna ramble in tags again..... im just gonna end up saying it in the analysis anyways but ughhhhhhhhhhh#yk what fine i'll rapid fire. trying to keep people from killing themselves. watching his friends die.#knowing that other monsters are getting eaten. worrying papyrus. coming up with a plan he knows wont work and tries make it happen#because that idea of them deconstrucing the core would NOT have worked so he did that out of selfishness#forcing his community to eat humans. tricking papyrus into eating humans. going against all his morals#dare i need say more i swear AND ALL OF THESE ARE SEPERATE THINGS TOO!!!!!!#he single handedly DOOMED horrortale into disarray by destroying the core#the eye idea wouldve worked. it wouldve been the only way monsterkind thrived#and yet he destroyed the core but kept his eye safe. as if one last big fuck you#you can have my eye but you cant have the machine that needs it. good luck bitches#THERE ALREADY WAS FOOD IN SNOWDIN BEFORE HE TOLD THEM TO EAT HUMANS#THERE COULD'VE BEEN ANOTHER WAY TO RATION THE FOOD OR FIND S FOOD SOURCE#BUT HE JUST TOLD TJEM TO EST HUMANS OUT OF SPITE SO UNDYNE WOULDN'T GET THE SOULS#granted it was a solution that worked for the hunger problem BUT HORROR FUCKING HATES IT#HE HATES THE IDEA OF EATING HUMANS HE HATES THE IDEA OF KILLING KIDS#BUT HE STILL DOES IT HE GOES AGAINST ALL HIS MORALS UGHHHHH#horror sans. horror sans my king horror sans my glorious lord and savior#i cannot WAIT to drop that character analysis. it will change lives. and by lives i mean me#i will be a changed man once the horror analysis comes out#anyways WHO IS THIS ANON AGAIN. its a question i always wonder because wtf#you have a daily question for me. this is like a log in event. if i answer all the questions in a row for a week i get a SPECIAL question#but fr thank you so much for your questions i love answering them its so fun to wrack my mind and figure out a way to answer it. brain teas#every time i see the words mtt expert i laugh lowly like an evil villain but i try not let it get to my head#humility is a standard i aim to uphold. one of my character traits. triglycercule character analysis when#tricule asks
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zariyari · 1 year
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what you dont realize is that yona is the biggest sidlink shipper of us all
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uitzinnigmp3 · 1 year
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family dinner
Sokka had been so excited for today, and he was convinced everything would be fine. But it was not fine. Actually, it was horrible. And the worst part was that it wasn’t even that bad. No, Sokka realised, his father and his boyfriend were just extremely stupid.
or, zuko thinks hakoda hates him. hakoda thinks zuko hates him. sokka is so tired.
[read on ao3]
written for @zukkaweek day one: modern au | family drama
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deus-ex-mona · 23 days
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i miss her…
#cant believe i forgot about her till the photobook q&a im so sorry witch mona~~~~~~~#press f for honeypre atelier gachas it was gone too soon™️#(currently e x t r e m e l y worried and stressed for tomorrow like never before b u t i have to appear like im fine sobs save me monachann)#(can i go on a stress-prompted tangent here about something inane? no? toooo bad im gonna go off anyway~~~~)#ok so. like. since witch mona is the image i have up ‘ere and since it’s still 七月… today’s tangent will be on irl spooky stories!!#s o. presenting a decently repressed memory from my childhood that resurfaced while i was hibernating at home:#anyways. well. thoughts about the afterlife can vary from person to person yes? there’s no one true correct belief after all#but the one question that unites us all is probably the one and only ‘are ghosts real?’#and well. for personal reasons i think so. i mean i’ve seen this one dude i hate get possessed a couple of times so welp. cant deny it ig.#wild story about that actually. back in the day my family’s finances were allegedly doing so badly that [dude i hate] had to pick up#a *c e r t a i n* side hustle for extra cash. that side hustle? literal grave digging at the cemetary. at night no less#and *ofc* he wasn’t respectful about it in the least so ofc some spirits followed him home. yay. free roommates.#one(?) of them even took residence in my room at the time and im 80% sure they ate my history textbook :( much sads#anyways well once that guy had too much to drink (which was rather often tbh) he’d get possessed. fun!#the only possession i ever saw was the n-rarity angry ghost who’d just huff and puff in silence with unfocused eyes most of the time#he’d occasionally put on a leather jacket too. but that was like a r-rarity event that didn’t happen that often#my mother had the chance to also witness the mosquito (who tried to barge into my room for fresh blood) and the 姑娘 (self-explanatory)#which is kinda unfair tbh. i wanted to see the ur-rarity ones too :( mostly bc it’d be funny to see a guy i hate act ooc (impure intentions)#oh right. ​how did we get the dude out of his possession? we just shook his arm really hard. prolly caused some lasting effects but who know#i think he could also just sleep off the possession but idk i was asleep for the ur-rarity incidents.#cant ask the one witness of it bc i dont want to bring back unnecessary flashbacks of [guy we hate]#anyways it’s been years since we moved out from that place and i still want my history textbook back. mostly for the principle of it but—#and so that’s the tangent of the day. i feel weirdly less stressed now thanks witch mona#i do wonder how my grandparents are faring on this 七月 though…#b u t !!!!! tomorrow’s date on the lunar calendar says it’s an auspicious day for wishful activity and starting a new job!!! so… maybe~~~~?#hauauauauauauauuauaaaaaa anyways insane tangent over stream mona’s new album ok bye#oops forgor to disable rbs i hate how easy it is to forget to use this function man
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nomairuins · 26 days
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i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is
#ive been overthinking 1 light and casual mildly funny response to something but im worried itll come off as disrespectful and dismissive And#make me seem stupid and uncaring all at the same time. and also be seen as insulting. but like idt itd be insulting right like. im not#saying what it is so ig for all you guys know im like I mean if i say All your shit suck ball and i hateit kys. <- thats not the thing i was#going to say#like it doesnt matter now the window for response is closed now but i feel stupid bc i shouldve just said it it was light and casual. im so#bad at keeping convos gojng im convinced im not going to survive. In like a light and casual way like in a He will not make it through the#winter joke way. dw. im not going to do anything bc i had One failed interaction. if i was going to do anythjng itd be bc of the 8000000#other failed interactions. But im not. anyways. it just makes me feel so useless 😭 like i want to respond i want to talk to ppl so bad but#i feel like i mess things up Irreparably every time i speak OR i take too LONG overthinking my response and then i just cant respond bc its#been too long and then its been 3 years and the only messages ive ever sent r my intro message and 1 message 2 years ago that nobody#responded to at all. or the conversation stopped immediately after. and like i used to be better at this i was lkke. talkative in a couple#muts servers like. i talked 2 ppl daily in those servers and i had fun and like. I was an important part of the group and i felt like it#but i just feel like such an outsider for Everything and its literally my fault bc i cant just like. Talk. The explosion. bc im always like#im gonna try im gonna do it this time im gonna get it back im going to finally be Good connor and im going to fix it all and make a Good#solid friend group and ill find HEALTHY LOVE and i wont selfsabotage and ill move out and have a job and ill balance it well and ill start#all my hobbies and ill have a great routine and be so loveable and on top of it and not stressed and content and happy and roll with the#punches and then theres a single hiccup and im like Well fuckinf whatever im going to be an unemployed hermit forever and im going to die b4#im 25 anyways so Who cares and also im digging a little hole for myself. and its like. AUGHH ik i just have to persevere and overcome but#even saying that feels so stupid its not fucking hard its Talking to ppl. like. i literally if ive ever said a word to you i had to think#avt it and strategize how to respond right even for like. like. it makes it sound like its not genuine it is#like for example i want to say hey i love your art! but then i freak out and im like thats not normal thats like a rly generic comment they#hear that all the time theyll thjnk im being polite and my brains like hrmmm rewrite Your art changed my life. It shaped me. Ill never be#the same. Nad im like ok too far overcorrected go back and the sentence generator is like Your art has colors 💯 like. GOD. WHY IS IT SO#difficult. and then usually i either just dont say anythinf and feel awful abt it 4ever OR i send it on anon and then i spend like 15#minutes ibsessively slightly tweaking the apelling and capitalization and punctuation to make sure it doesnt seem like its me just in case#it Is the worst possible thing to say but then i see the response and itll be like AWWW TYSM :] THIS MEANS A LOT or whathaveyou and i feel#stupid bc i couldve just Told them this to their face and it wouldve been a good positive interaction we had. but instead i had 2 hide and#tyoe entirely differently so they couldnt sniff me from my typing style. and it soesnt even feel like the thanks is actually 4 me bc i#tweaked the message sm. and it still makes me happy that the oersons hapoy but its like. that couldve been a nice mutual interaction#like not that i need a personal ty i compliment ppl when i Want to compliment ppl and when its genuine yk. i dont do it so i get mutualpoint
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cherry-bomb-ships · 2 months
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JUST HAD MY FIRST MEDICAL EMERGENCY ON A FLIGHT... WHAT ELSE WANTS TO HAPPEN ON THIS TRIP 💀💀💀
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