#the point is the puns are me laughing through my tears

[mcaquila]

More WIPs from that mystery fan project (though we do see a pretty recognizable character here, whatevs), the point is I wanted to upload these to note for posterity that the kid on the top left WAS going to get "Heel" as his surname because he got a foot cut off before his death. Because I have a terrible sense of humor.

But it had to be omitted for reasons. Sigh.

Or should I say.... it had to be CUT OUT bwahaha.

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (II)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

part i here

summary: Gojo is uncharacteristically insecure and unsure to the point of double guessing himself—something practically unheard of for the self-proclaimed Honored One. Meanwhile, the ever-feared blood-laden flowers make an unwelcome appearance.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: mentions of sickness and blood, descriptions of vomiting (caution to fellow ppl with emetophobia), characters are anxious and stressed!, cussing (obvs), use of (Y/N), kidnapping!

genre: hanahaki disease au, hurt/comfort, lowkey mystery?

a/n: Here is part 2 (finally lol)! It is a whole 6.7k words (😫) to make up for not updating until now haha. This chapter features serious!Gojo and worried!Gojo 😳. It seems out of character but it’s intentional (or so I claim). Also, I kinda make a pun out of Utahime’s name—hime (姫) means princess in Japanese! Two last notes: for clarification—I use italics to emphasize things, but also for characters’ thoughts. Geto is still alive (still excommunicated tho) in this timeline. More notes at the end of the chapter!

“Hey, ‘Hime, when’s your lunch break today?”

He hears a scoff that hardly conceals the crackly laugh that follows through his speakers. Her laugh is delicate and bright, even over the phone.

“Don’t call me that, Gojo. Never been into the princess thing.”

“We’ve been over this, it’s Satoru. And what should I call you then? Hime is perfect, it’s literally in your name.”

“I’ll call you Satoru if you call me by my real name: Utahime.”

“You’re so boringgg! Come on!” He whines, pretending to pout.

Utahime breathes in sharply at his words, “Satoru…you shouldn’t say things like that.”

Gojo stops walking. His brow creases in confusion: this is how he has always behaved, with obviously facetious and playful words. Even the people that claim they can’t stand him the most, like Shoko and Nanami, recognize when his words are intentionally over the top or ridiculous. Utahime also knows this: he has not concealed this aspect of his personality from her.

He can’t stop his next words from being spoken with a twinge of annoyance. “I was kidding, you know. Is something wrong?”

Utahime sighs, “No, no. Sorry, I’m just a bit stressed since the higher-ups asked for a meeting with me. Have no idea what it’s about…”

“They did? So, you’re not free for lunch? Please say you are…”

His words feel unnatural and stilted, but he brushes the feeling aside. He’s probably just nervous since it’s her, right?

“Yeah, I’m going to my meeting in a few, but I should be able to make it. Could you get the reservation for us?” Utahime asks, tone leaning on snippy.

“Mm, maybe. What’s the magic word?” He teases with a playful tone, trying to lighten her mood. This should work, it should make her feel better. He has experience with this.

“C’mon Gojo, not now,” She groans, apparently disgruntled. “But, fine, could you please make the reservation?”

He frowns. Not exactly the reaction he anticipated.

“Okay, but next time you gotta call me Satoru,” He says with a small awkward chuckle, this time easing up a bit on his teasing tone. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, though.”

“Sure,” She snorts, but not in the way that she would if she thought it was funny. It’s a sardonic snort, rather, and he would bet money that her eyes are rolling.

A loud click signals the end of conversation, but his phone remains pressed to his ear. He lowers it slowly, a strange feeling swirling in his chest. It’s an uneasy, heavy feeling from deep down, but he can’t discern what exactly it means.

“Why would I expect that to work?” He mutters to himself. “That’s so annoying, who would tolerate that?”

Suddenly, an image flashes under his eyelids, almost making him flinch at how intensely it conjures itself. A vivid apparition of you doubled over in laughter appears in his mind. It’s a memory, he realizes: you’re leaning on him as tears part from your eyes, unable to catch your breath due to how hard you’re laughing at one of his horrible, stupid jokes.

He remembers this moment well. You had been crying for real before—quietly sniffling, trying to hide it from him. He knew that you hated crying in front of others—trying to always appear strong, he knew this feeling well—so he started direct attention away from it with the corniest jokes he could make. That’s when your tears, first full of the hurt that he could clearly see in your crumpled expression, turned into ones of relief and joy. Your eyes had sparkled with some other emotion he couldn’t identify—something familiar, something that made him feel warm in the chest, but also made him feel so, so scared.

He never did figure out what it was. Or, rather, he has tried not to dwell on it. Every time it pops into his head, he pushes it down, the fear rising in him each time he comes closer to the answer.

Utahime never made him feel like that. That must be better. He never feels scared like that when he thinks of his feelings for her. That must be better, it has to be.

He enjoys talking to Utahime. He likes that he can get under her skin with little effort, likes how easily he can get a rise out of her: and most of the time, she’s amused by it, giggling and slapping his arm. He’s never scared with Utahime, but…why does something feel wrong?

His fingers, typing in his name for the reservation, pause and begin to tremble when he sees what he typed. He typed your name. His eyes widen beneath his blindfold—he’s grateful it helps to conceal his expression, even if nobody he knows is around. In truth, this is partly why he seldom removes it; he masks his true emotions more often than not. Not that anyone suspects it, though, too convinced by his saccharine smiles and forever jocular personality.

The blue horizontal line blinks in and out of existence as his fingers hover over his keyboard. Your name, though written in normal text, appears bolded to him: it sucks his attention away from anything else on his screen. He begins to break out in a sweat.

Sweating just from their name? How pathetic…

He shakes his head, frantically backspacing, trying to erase all traces of you from his mind. He’s been trying to do this for months, ever since he began to distance himself from you. There is a legitimate reason he has been giving you the cold shoulder, but it feels like an excuse to drive away this fear that grips him when he thinks of that warmth, that sparkle in your eyes.

Fuck. Now he can’t get that image of you out of his mind—his chest aches, his breathing comes quicker, but he does not know why.

He walks almost endlessly in the town he booked the restaurant in, in a pace-like fashion. His large stature and height make the brisk pace he walks at look absurdly hurried to passerbys: they stare at him unabashedly and he barely notices.

It’s only when he checks his phone that he realizes how much time has passed since he called Utahime. His reservation is soon: he will be late if he doesn’t start walking there now. Shit.

His breath comes heavy when he finally reaches the restaurant. It’s a casual yet nice ramen place—something familiar yet suitable for a lunch date. He’s wearing a baby blue button down shirt, nice slacks, and trades in his blindfold for heavily shaded sunglasses: also suitable for a lunch date.

A date. Yes, that’s what he’s on. A nice lunch date with a girl whom he kissed before the first date. A bit untraditional, not that he would be one to mind.

He approaches the hostess, about to ask for a table for two, but then he spots a familiar red ribbon perfectly adorning the dark strands of hair she always pulls back. She’s already here, sitting alone in the corner.

Gojo sighs. Fuck, ‘messed up again.

He hurriedly stumbles over to Utahime, probably looking a bit disheveled. She gives him a questioning glance at his appearance—Gojo laughs and immediately plasters on an easy smile.

“Hey,” He says nonchalantly, slowly lowering himself into the chair opposite her.

“Hey. You’re late,” She notes, but she doesn’t sound as bothered as he thought she would. “Did something happen? You look…like something happened.”

He goes along with it, sighing dramatically, “How’d you know? Yeah, Yaga was bothering me about some mission stuff. Dumb paperwork I’m supposed to do and whatever.”

She smiles, but it’s tight lipped, “Of course. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all sweaty.”

“I am?” He questions, feigning confusion, but his next words are partly true. “Ah, well, I realized I was gonna be late since he was pestering me so much. Guess I walked too fast.”

“Hmm,” Is all she says. She stirs the tea in front of her with a small spoon, expression blank as she does so.

Once he realizes she isn’t going to initiate talking further, he takes it upon himself, “How did the meeting go?”

She stops stirring. She sets down the spoon more harshly than she means to: it clangs loudly on the tea tray.

“I have some questions,” She says seriously.

“Questions? About what?” He asks.

Her dark, stormy eyes meet his. “…About you.”

He gulps, “Sure! What type of questions? You know, people ask me a lot of stuff. I’m sure I can handle anything.”

He winks at her, his usual smirk spreading across his face. Maybe if he jokes he can diffuse this god-awful tension. Not that it worked before, but he can try.

Utahime blinks slowly, exhaling deeply, as if attempting to calm herself down. He can see the fire in her eyes between blinks.

“How about that the higher-ups were asking me about my relation to you, when they believed you to only show interest in someone else?”

No. They can’t still believe that.

Terror strikes Gojo’s heart, electrifying his nerves, but he tries to play it off. He breathes out a chuckle and a few weak words, “That wasn’t a question.”

“For once in your life, be serious! We’ve only been dating for 3 weeks and I–” She inhales deeply. “I don’t think it’s a good sign that you’re intentionally avoiding answering me about this.”

“I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re talking about. Who did they even ask about? I can’t think of anyone they could say that about.” He’s lying through his teeth. Alarm bells are ringing through his head, and he dreads her answer.

She narrows her eyes, but seems convinced enough at his alleged cluelessness.

“They were asking about (Y/N). Asking about…your relationship with them. About how close you are. Asking if it’s changed.”

Gojo takes a sip from his glass, avoiding her eyes.“Well, did they say why? Seems awfully strange to ask you about it.”

She’s silent for a few seconds, mulling over her next words. They end up making Gojo bristle. “Satoru, you know I couldn’t tell you even if they did.”

His tone is abruptly serious. “The hell does that mean?”

She blinks at him slowly, with anger flashing in her dark eyes. “Gakuganji is very involved with them. If I told you, it would definitely get back to him. Who knows how he would punish me.”

"So you'd rather possibly endanger (Y/N)?" Gojo scoffs.

“Who said anything about danger?” Utahime says lowly, suspicion clear in her voice.

“Well, when the higher ups ask questions about my life, it usually isn’t just for fun,” Gojo says with a shrewd smile. “I don’t know what the hell they’re thinking so I can only assume the worst.”

“Does this really matter right now? (Y/N) is capable enough if it does turn out like that, and besides, I sorted it all out. Told them that your ‘relationship’ is fine and dandy and yada yada.”

Gojo sucks in a breath, nerves beginning to turn in his stomach. No. No! That’s not what I wanted…

Utahime doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort and continues, “You two have always been close…didn’t you have a thing for each other in high school? They have always had these eyes for you.”

Her tone is strange, gushing and gossipy yet also jealous.

“What?” Gojo says more loudly than intended as he takes in all of the information Utahime just casually dropped.

“You know, I even told them that you two were meant to be together,” She chuckles. “Funny how things work out—or, rather, don’t work out.”

Gojo’s stomach twists painfully at her insinuation—even though it shouldn’t. He likes Utahime, he’s with Utahime. Not with you. He’s not with you, he has never been with you.

“Gojo,” Utahime says suddenly. He blinks rapidly in surprise, eyes finally landing on hers. “Can we agree to be honest with each other?”

“Of course. What do you mean?” He says easily, nervously.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” She shakes her head. “You’re deflecting at every question I ask. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Gojo lets himself sigh this time.

He studies her expression. She’s beautiful, he has to admit. She’s beautiful, but she’s not you.

“Utahime…what is this all about?” He asks slowly.

“I should be asking you that,” She counters. “Why did you ask me out if you won’t actively participate in our relationship?”

“What do you mean? I’m here, aren’t I?” Gojo responds carefully.

“But you mind isn’t,” Utahime sighs. “You’re miles away, Satoru. You always are. When you’re with me, you’re not thinking of me, are you?”

The question is so accurate that it seems rhetorical to Gojo, to the point of him not responding for many moments before he realizes she is genuinely asking him.

It’s so true and yet he physically cannot bring himself to admit to it. “I mean, I think about the higher-ups and work related stuff a lot. I’m sorry I haven’t been that present on dates and stuff, but–”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Gojo!” Utahime hisses out, tone bordering on venomous. “You’re always thinking about them. You make decisions thinking of them. I bet even when you kiss me, you think about them. Are you going to deny that?”

“Utahime…” He says softly, guilt constricting his vocal chords.

“I don’t understand you, Gojo. You asked me out and have taken me on fancy dates as if you want a committed relationship, but then your mind is always wandering away. I know that you still care for them, but then I heard from Shoko that you’ve been ignoring them for months. And then the fucking higher-ups ask me your relationship with them. Why would they ask me that and why would they even care? Something isn’t adding up. What’s really going on here?”

Gojo blinks in surprise at the depth of concern in her voice. It’s like she has already moved on from her jealousy towards you, and now is worried for you.

He must look surprised, because she adds on, “Just so you know, I’m not that sad. You’re kind of a shithead for doing this to me, but this wasn’t that serious for me. Obviously not for you, either.”

Gojo winces. Everything she has said so far has been true, but he wishes it wasn’t.

“Iori, I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t even realize that…that I was doing that,” Gojo sighs. “And to answer your question—I didn’t want to tell anyone, but I think I owe it to you. I don’t know what’s going on either, and that’s what scares me. I have no idea what they want or what they’re plotting, but it can’t be anything good.”

Utahime sits there with a small smirk on her face. When he raises an eyebrow at her expression, she just chuckles and shakes her head. “You can’t even say their name. Just how much denial are you in?”

He can’t even answer. He just sits there, a hand brushing his cheeks in order the cover the warmth the rises at the mention of the depth of his denial concerning his feelings for you.

When she realizes he isn’t going to answer, Utahime rises out of her seat. “Well, I guess I can say I’m officially breaking up with you, not that you or I really care. Just…if you need help with this, just know I’m in your corner, yeah? Unless it’s something to do with Gakuganji, and in that case my hands would be tied. Otherwise, just ask. You know, I wasn’t joking when I said I rooted for you guys in high school. That’s a fact and I can’t deny it.

You should really figure this out—for their sake. It sounds like they’re not having the best time with it. And besides, as much as it pains me to say it, you owe it to yourself after fighting against whatever feelings you have had for them for so many years.”

He doesn’t interrupt her even once, instead quietly absorbing her advice. He fidgets at the mention of his feelings for you, still uncomfortable even at the thought of them. Still scared.

“Goodbye for now, Satoru. I hope you figure all this shit out. Have a nice lunch,” She says coldly as she readies her things. Her coldness stings a bit, but what else could he expect?

“Oh, one last thing,” Utahime pauses. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me this, but I guess you’re too in over to head right now to think straight. I think I might know partly why they have taken an interest in (Y/N).”

Gojo’s gaze turns to her sharply, blue eyes bright with curiosity behind his shades. “Why? How do you know?”

“I think the higher-ups must have asked Yaga about them. I forgot until now, but they were asking me if I knew anything about (Y/N)‘s identity. And who would know better than anyone? Your nosey principal who digs deep on everyone,” She rolls her eyes, huffing out a small but humorless laugh. “Well, that should be it then. Bye, ex-boyfriend.”

She gives him one last look, then struts away with her head held high. He sincerely hopes she isn’t hurting too much, despite her very “okay with it” façade.

So it has to do with your identity? In Satoru’s view, you have somewhat of an average identity for a sorcerer. A grade one sorcerer who comes from a sorcerer family. You had not inherited your clan’s special innate technique, but you are still pretty strong regardless. There’s nothing unusual about your background, or at least to the best of his knowledge.

And yet this sickening feeling has begun to creep into his stomach, that feeling that something is horribly wrong. What he does not know is what he cannot control, and each heartbeat and breath of his feels tortured with the knowledge that you may not be safe.

Shoko won’t stop texting you, almost on the hour, despite your radio silence. It’s strange when you think about it—she has always hated texting, always grumbling that it’s going to give her carpal tunnel someday. And yet here she is, blowing up your phone with notifications.

You haven’t been to school in weeks, taking mission after mission instead. It’s very obvious that you’ve been avoiding Shoko and Gojo, but you won’t admit that.

The missions have been grueling and gruesome—your stomach turns when the curses you exorcised spring to mind. They were ghastly and frankly were some of the most mentally scarring curses you’ve encountered. So, you’ve decided to take a break.

You feel your skin crawl when you’re sitting at home doing nothing—the curses come to mind much more easily, and also thoughts of him—so you abandon being cozy for the sake of your mind. It’s cold outside, so cold that your breath greets you in a cloud with every puff of air you release. Winter has arrived, and it nips at your cheeks and numbs your extremities just to remind you.

You haven’t been coping well, and you know it. Avoiding thoughts of Gojo has not been working very well, even after physically avoiding him. You try to forget what you heard that day, but it won’t escape your mind no matter how much you distract yourself. You think of Utahime: her beauty, her quiet strength, of how she always seems so calm and collected and yet somehow always makes her voice heard. She has everything that you lack.

The skin of your face burns with envy when you think about her. And when you picture her with Gojo—her dark eyes looking into his pooling blue depths, her leaning forward and up to kiss him—your chest crumbles in on itself.

It hurts. Right now, everything surrounding Gojo Satoru hurts.

But today, you will change that. This will definitely help. You’ve taken yourself out of your apartment and straight into a place that has always lifted your spirits—the local florist.

You scour the aisles, wincing at the very romantic red roses and the bright yellow daffodils. But then something catches your eye: an array of festive bouquets.

You end up picking out a bouquet fit for the season: it features a string of cranberries, enveloped by branches of pine and pinecones, with a striped garland draped around it all. Despite all of your poisonous feelings inside, you crack a small smile at the sight.

You take it home, putting care into the beautiful and yet flowerless bouquet. You carefully mix the plant food into a vase full of cool water, cut the ends of the stems under running water, then submerge the bouquet.

It brings a sense of homeliness that you’ve been desperately missing ever since you’ve starting living on your own. It almost soothes the ache in your chest.

But, as always, reality swoops in to remind you that you cannot run from your feelings within. Within only minutes of arranging the new bouquet, you accidentally swipe at the vase. It crashes to the floor, the glass shattering everywhere, glinting beautifully as it spins through the air. The cranberries begin to bleed into the water, the impact too much for them to tolerate.

You bend down, slowly processing the collision. When you stare into the expanding pool of water, you see wild eyes brimming with pain. Brimming with heartache. It is then that you are painfully reminded what cranberries represent: a cure for heartache.

The irony is not lost on you. You begin to howl in laughter, and the voice that reverberates back to you sounds crazed.

Then, it begins. You abruptly stop breathing; you are choked, silenced, almost as if something is blocking your airway. And then your throat begins to convulse, an instinctual reaction to choking, and you have no choice but to obey your body. You stumble through the shards of glass and collapse at the foot of your toilet. You heave and heave—whatever is lodged in your throat is large, making it difficult and painful to retch up.

When you finally use enough force to hack up the offending object, you freeze at the sight in front of you. Vibrant hydrangeas the same color as his eyes float in a murky red cloud. Blue hydrangeas: a symbol of rejection and regret.

Your chest bursts in pain at the realization. You are in love with Gojo Satoru, and he doesn’t love you back.

You feel another bloom emerging from within. You shudder in fear, knowing that you have little time left. Once the flowers present themselves, death is almost always imminent.

You spend the next few hours by the toilet, conjuring a newer, more painful bouquet than the one that lays in shattered remains in your living room.

“You told them what?” Gojo exhales deeply, a sigh following his exasperated words. He pinches the bridge of his nose—a gesture uncharacteristic for someone as self-assured as him.

“That (Y/N) is important to you,” Yaga Masamichi states calmly. “Satoru, there is no reason to fret. Their intentions concerning this matter are pure.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now? The higher-ups intentions are anything but pure.”

“I can sense that you are agitated,” He observes, eyebrows beginning to furrow. “But you are blinded by your bias. They first and foremost protect our community. (Y/N) is of no threat to Jujutsu society, thus they should be in no danger.”

“You don’t understand,” Gojo shakes his head. He is clearly angry, but now his nerves are showing through more: his voice is uneven and his tone has an air of desperation. “The higher-ups are out to get them. I don’t have any answers for that, even though I’ve been searching for months. I’ve had to show indifference towards (Y/N) to convince them that there is nothing between us, and it was starting to work. Why did you tell them this without consulting me first?”

A frown etches Masamichi’s stony features. Behind his shaded glasses, his eyes rake over his former student, taking in his state. Gojo isn’t one to openly show fear or anxiety, yet his breathing is audibly shaky and his fingers twitch by his side.

“I see I have made a mistake,” Masamichi concedes. “But why are you so convinced the higher-ups have ill intentions toward them?”

Gojo begins to pace back and forth in front of Yaga’s desk—also very unlike him.

“They called me to meet them a few months ago, asking what my relationship with (Y/N) is. I brushed it off at first and basically told them to stop sticking their nose into my business, but then I started to notice something.”

Gojo pauses by a window. The light streams down onto his face, illuminating his rather uncommonly stoic portrait.

“They started assigning (Y/N) missions that were labeled as second or first grade, but actually turned out to be special grade. And it can’t be coincidental—the incident rate of this happening is much higher for (Y/N)’s assignments than any other person.”

“That does seem to be true,” Masamichi comments, thinking back to reports he’s reviewed.

“No, not seem,” Gojo snaps. “That is the reality of this situation. Ever since I realized that, I’ve acted coldly towards (Y/N), distancing myself as much as possible. And guess what? No more special grade missions. Less injuries. And—”

“Satoru!” Masamichi raises his voice, pulling Gojo out of his frantic spiel. He blinks in surprise; he didn’t even realize how much or how fast he has been speaking.

“I don’t know what they are thinking or planning, but stressing like this will not help the situation. This is our world; this is how they operate,” Masamichi says, leaning forward and resting his chin on steepled fingers. “We will find a way around this.”

“It shouldn’t be like this,” Gojo says, voice rumbling deep and low, dangerously quiet.

“They are resistant to change,” Masamichi counters. “We can’t directly influence their decisions.”

“Not if they can’t make them anymore,” Satoru snorts, a dark and bitter smirk curling his lips.

“That is completely out of the question,” Yaga says firmly in a warning tone.

“Their thinking is antiquated,” Gojo argues. “I think we need a complete refresh.”

“And yours is too radical and rash. No, Gojo. I will not even entertain your idea.” Yaga says with a note of finality.

“Won’t you let me have my fun?” Gojo sighs, exaggerating his disappointment. “You’re such a drag, old man.”

Yaga almost smiles. He’s back to his normal antics.

“So, there is nothing that you can think of that would cause the higher-ups to go after them like this? I know you looked into all of your students closely even before you became principal. You must know something.”

Yaga frowns. You were his student and, as Gojo claims, he did thoroughly look into your background. But—how can you truly be thorough when the information presented is so little?

“There was little to nothing on them,” Yaga says. “Even when I tried digging further, I didn’t find much. However…there are rumors that they have made a Binding Vow.”

“A Binding Vow?” Gojo echoes back. “That’s very vague. That can mean practically anything.”

“But it’s still interesting, is it not?” Yaga says with a wry smile. “If the higher-ups have heard, we can only assume that the Binding Vow is with another entity, not with themselves. Otherwise, why would they be interested? That is assuming this is true, of course.”

“Who did you hear this from?” Gojo asks. “Someone credible?”

“I’m not sure about their credibility. And you can’t really go out and interrogate them, even if you wanted to. If you did, there would be another expectation for your visit.”

Gojo grows suspicious from his obvious attempt at a non-answer, “Yaga, who?”

He sighs, “Geto Suguru.”

There’s silence. Then, Gojo cackles—it’s a bitter and sardonic laugh, slightly crazed as well—and shakes his head.

“Of course. Of course it was from him,” Gojo continues laughing, a hand covering his face this time. “Guess you’re right—there’s no avenue for conversation there. In that case, I’ve gotta go. See ya, old man.”

Yaga bristles at the nickname, but does not attempt chastise Gojo as he walks away without waiting for Yaga’s response. It simply doesn’t work, so why waste his breath?

Gojo walks out, digging his cell phone out of his pocket. He opens his text conversation with you, fingers twitching over the keyboard. But what would he even say? The last texts are all from you, scattered over a few weeks from literal months ago. He didn’t respond to any of them. He feels the need to contact you, but how would he even start that? ‘Hey, I know I’ve been ignoring you for months, but I heard that you might have told Geto that you made a Binding Vow and I think the higher-ups know about it.’

Nope. That’s not gonna work. He swipes the texting app out of existence, then locks his phone and puts it back in his pocket.

He leans back on the pillar, resting his head while he closes his eyes. Why does everything surrounding you have to be so complicated? Then, a series of hurried footsteps meets his ears, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it is. Gojo is ambushed by someone he hasn’t seen for a few days—your mutual friend, Shoko.

“I heard what happened from Utahime,” She says immediately.

Gojo exhales loudly, not even trying to conceal his annoyance, “Shoko, I really don’t have time for this right now.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on.” She says firmly, her tone hard.

“What? We broke up. What’s more to say?” Gojo says dismissively.

“No, Gojo. That’s not all there is. Things have been going on. She told me that she’s concerned for (Y/N) but wouldn’t tell me more. And it just so happens that I have been texting them just about every day for weeks and have heard nothing back. Tell me there’s ‘nothing more to say’ again! Because obviously something is going on.”

Gojo inhales sharply, his breath suspended at her words. He shifts his weight forward, finally leaning away from the pillar. Shoko takes notice of his surprise.

She sighs, deciding to clarify one detail, “They’ve still been taking missions so I assume that they’re fine…but they’ve never ghosted me like this. Even back then, when Geto…they didn’t…agh. Well, you know what I’m saying. I don’t know what they’re thinking.”

He only really gathered one thing from that. So you’re safe for now. Gojo recovers, his expression evening out into something more normal.

“Shoko, I don’t want to complicate things further,” Gojo sighs. “Too many people are already involved in this, ones I had no intention of involving. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I should say anything.”

“You ass!” She shouts at him, making his eyes widen under his blindfold. Shoko never blows up like this—she’s always indifferent and sort of passive. “They’re my friend too, and I want to know what’s going on!”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” Gojo blurts out. Shoko blinks rapidly, shocked by the volume of his voice. He hates getting emotional like this, but he can’t help it when he’s so fucking worried. “I don’t know, Shoko. The higher-ups have been probing into my life, but this time– this time it’s about them, and I don’t know why they want to know. I don’t know what they’re looking for. I’m just praying every day that they stop, but then somebody else in our circle tells me that the higher-ups keep mentioning them. I don’t know what’s going on, but it can’t be good.”

She looks at him, finally noticing how…un-Gojo-like he looks and sounds. Worrying about others isn’t something that Gojo does, or at least not something he ever speaks about. He never has his brow creased like he does right now. He doesn’t bite his lip in worry, either, so why is he biting down so hard he’s almost pulling blood?

“Okay,” Shoko yields. “Okay. I believe you. I didn’t realize…I didn’t believe that you still cared so much.”

“You don’t even know,” He mutters under his breath, but Shoko still hears it. She acts like she doesn’t.

“Well, if you hear anything, tell me, okay?” Shoko asks him with a low exhale. “They’re really stressing me out.”

She pulls out a lighter and a cigarette, prepared to light up. The blinks, and the cigarette now lays on the ground, mysteriously absent from her grip.

“Fuck you,” She grumbles. “You know, that’s littering.”

She hates to say it, but her chest, heavy with worry, lightens a bit as his regular smirk spreads across his face. She feels a bit more hopeful as Gojo disappears in front of her, the wind from the teleportation blowing her hair and lab coat around furiously.

“If only you two weren’t idiots, this mess might have solved itself ages ago,” She chuckles to herself. “The densest people I know.”

Your lungs ache. You wheeze with each breath. You blink blearily, rubbing your eyes with one hand. You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep while you’ve been laying on the cold tile in your bathroom. The air is tinged with iron—the smell of your own blood curdles your stomach.

“What time is it?” You mutter to yourself, and jolt at the sound of your own voice. It’s raspy and weak; you almost don’t recognize it as being your own.

Your hands skate across the smooth tile as you try to locate your phone. When you finally do, you grab it and bring it close to your face. Your eyes, barely cracked open, ache at the bright light of your screen.

The time reads as 3:31 AM. You’ve really been here for that long? Under the time, a plethora of texts from Shoko appear. You groan and slam your phone back down on the ground, ignoring the guilt that rises from how long you’ve been flat out ignoring your friend.

I’m being just like Gojo. Your lips curl down at the realization.

You feel a wave of weakness wash over you, and you are forced to lay back down on the ground. You are half conscious, vision swimming half through dream and half through reality. You can barely think, barely process your own actions.

You feel cold metal in your hands, smooth glass under your fingers. You are tapping randomly, the light blinding you so much that you can’t open your eyes to see what exactly you’re doing.

All you hear is your own horrible breath. And then you hear a voice.

“(Y/N)? You called me?”

You blink blankly in confusion. Did you? You can only assume that you did.

“‘Guess so,” You try to say, but you can barely get it out with how sore your throat is. “Who…who is it?”

“What do you mean? You called me, silly.” They say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 3 am. Are you drunk or something?”

Why can’t you recognize their voice? Their voice sounds underwater to you. Your head is spinning so much and your ears begin to ring. Your feel yourself slipping from reality.

You hear yourself saying words, but you don’t remember thinking them.

“No…gonna pass out. Or die. Can’t tell.”

“What? (Y/N), what’s going on? Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you right now.”

You swear you know that voice. It’s deep and smooth, but filled with so much worry that you barely recognize it. He’s never sounded this scared before.

“Oh, you’re…you’re Satoru,” You wheeze out. “Why? Why you?”

You’re not making much sense, you don’t think. But you can’t, not with how far from reality you are right now.

You called him? It’s just too painful, too cruel a fate, that you accidentally called the man you’re in love with and who doesn’t love you back while you’re knocking on death’s door. You cough violently and choke on the bloody petals that rise to your throat. You wince in pain and struggle to breathe.

He is bordering on panic now, but he fights to keep it out of his voice. “It’s okay, (Y/N), just tell me where you are. You’re on a mission, r-right? I’ll come get you. Just hold on.”

Confusion floods your brain. A mission? Are you on a mission? Is that why the scent of blood is clogging your nose?

Your heart beat pounds in your head, faster and faster. It’s scary just how confused you are—how do you not know where you are?

“I don’t know,” You choke out. You didn’t even realize you were crying. “I don’t know where I am.”

“It’s okay, c-can you check your phone for me? It’ll tell you your location. Just open it and–” His breathing is fast. “And check in your maps. Please. Please (Y/N), I need you to do this for me. Then–then everything will be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” You answer softly. “How do–”

You startle at the sound of a loud bang, your own gasp cutting off your words.

The door to your bathroom—that’s where you are—is knocked down, nearly missing your form where you lay on the tile.

Satoru is calling your name desperately, his voice louder with each repetition of your name. You can’t decipher any other words, but you know he’s shouting things, trying to get you to say something, to say anything so that he knows you’re okay.

A dark shape towers over you. You can’t make out who it is with your blurry vision and with how dark it is—but you are immediately intimidated by their large, broad frame.

“There you are,” They snarl. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this to happen. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

You scramble to get up, grabbing your phone while you unsteadily rise on your shaky legs. You are an inch away from passing out and you fight the feeling with every ounce of your strength.

“Not looking too good, are we?” He says, tutting mockingly. “That’s perfect. Remember what we agreed on, my dear (Y/N)?”

You stare at him blankly, no recognition in your eyes.

“Silly me! Of course you don’t remember. That was intentional, you know. A good move on my part,” He chuckles, and it’s a soft sound that juxtaposes his words. “While you’re the one who has to suffer. Don’t blame me too much, though…this is all situational. It’s not like I ever disliked you or anything. It just has to be like this.”

You hear Satoru’s voice again, and this time it sounds dangerous, “Who the fuck is that?”

Anger runs through the man’s features, and he strikes the hand that carries your phone harshly. You yelp loudly both in surprise and in pain. Your phone clatters to the ground, instantly silenced. Probably broken beyond repair.

His words are chastising and almost playful, but he is furious. “You shouldn’t talk to him anymore, (Y/N). That’s not part of our agreement.”

Then he grabs hold of you and begins dragging you out of the room. You scream loudly, kicking and punching him as much as you can as you’re moved against your will. You are a strong sorcerer, but all of your cursed energy and strength has been sapped away by this horrible disease that afflicts you. You are powerless to stop this man.

There’s one thing you were mistaken about. With the crunch your phone made as it shattered against the ground, you assumed it was completely broken. That’s only partly true: the speakers were damaged, no sound coming out, but your phone actually survived. Your microphone continued to pick up every scream and cry you made as you were dragged against your will—kidnapped. He heard every whimper of pain and every plea of yours for the man to stop! and to let you go!

Even in this state, your heart would ache if you had heard the unadulterated fear that gripped his voice as he shouted and screamed for you through his phone.

Even if you didn’t recognize the man who manhandled you out of your apartment, Gojo Satoru has no doubts about who it was. It makes his blood boil thinking about it—he’s never going to forgive him for this, even if they used to be best friends.

a/n 2: Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot!! This got a bit out of my hands, I will admit…I ended up writing some details I hadn’t planned on (and a lot more lol) 😅 But I think it actually makes it more interesting!

TAGLIST: @certainduckanchor @kawaiivillainess98 @arehzhera @starrylibras @mandysfanfics @rain-and-a-nice-nap @csillana @sup-hoes-its-me @llliissuu @hawkdaddy1111 @unoriginalidea

@dcvilxswish @angel-kyo @eliz-lovesgojo @5268r @wooasecret @timetobegone @ceronnica @torusblindfold @mo0nforme @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @dasztasha

@soapysofi @qualitygiantshoepsychic

Some of these tags didn’t work, but I hope it still tags you…Lmk if I typed anything in wrong haha. 😌

[aestheticaltcow]

Three-Three-Three

A platonic fluff piece about the fridge scene at the end of Season 2.

This is also a solid way to help ground yourself when having a panic attack.

“What do you mean he’s locked in the fridge?” you laughed when Richie pulled you aside in the dining area. It was The Bear's friends and family's soft opening, and you were working the bar as a favor for your best friend, Carmy. “I mean, he’s locked in the fridge. Dumbass didn’t call the fridge guy to come fix the handle on the walk-in, and it broke off- so he’s locked in the fridge.” Richie explained further, growing more frustrated as he did.

“I shouldn’t find this amusing because he’s probably freaking out-” You cut yourself off when you noticed Claire, Carmy’s not-girlfriend girlfriend, come out of the kitchen crying; you groaned. Carmy had done something stupid. You looked at Richie. Steam would have come out of his ears if this had been a cartoon. He stormed back to the kitchen, somehow managing not to draw attention to himself. 

You nodded in the direction of the other bartender. He returned the sentiment, and you walked back to the kitchen to hear Richie and Carmy screaming at each other from opposite sides of the fridge. “I fucking love you!” Richie yelled, pointing at the fridge as his face twisted with anger and hurt. You had no idea what was going on as you approached the fridge, “Richie, tap out.” you solemnly said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “Go smoke or something. I got this.” you sympathetically smiled when you saw tears forming in his eyes. 

“You’re a fucking child, Carmen! Fuck you!” Richie yelled his final jab before walking toward the back of the kitchen to the alley before Carmy could yell anything back at him.

“Carmy?” you asked softly, trying to de-escalate the situation, “Y/N- fuck off! I need- I need-” you could hear the panic in his voice. “Carmy, can you please tell me three things you can see?” you heard Carmy groan. “Carmy? Three things you can see,” you repeated, putting a palm to the fridge door. 

“Just get me the fuck out of here!” he yelled, “Carmy. Three things you can see.” you held your breath when you felt a thud on the door, assuming Carmy had slammed a fist on the door or kicked it?

“Fine... carrots. Stock. And fennel,” Carmy said as he slid down the fridge door onto the smooth concrete floor. “Okay. Three things hear,” you responded.

He closed his eyes and focused on your words. “I ugh—the fridge compressor… pots and pans hitting the stove… your voice,” he answered, pushing a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. The styling product he’d put in was long gone.

 “Now, tell me three things you can feel.” you said, putting your forehead on the fridge, “Uh, the floor… the door, and uh… my hair?” he answered. Carmy leaned back against the door and stared at the light above him. 

“Scale of one to ten. How are you feeling?” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “Seven?” Carmy chuckled. 

“Is the fire department here yet?” he questioned only to hear you laugh again, “Carm, what do you think?”

“This would fuckin’ happen to me.” he scoffed. You grinned, “What happened with Claire? She ran out crying.” you heard Carmy sigh, “I thought I was talking to Tina… I was talkin’ about how I don’t deserve enjoyment.” you nodded. 

“I think she took your panic attack personally. Not very pro mental health of her.” you joked, hoping you hadn’t, pun unintended, poked the bear too much by asking. Carmy chuckled, “It’s okay… she told me she loved me, and I didn’t say it back. I think I loved her, but I’m not in love with her… ya know?” 

The two of you sat there for a while. You watched the kitchen bustle and hoped the other bartender wasn’t too slammed while you cared for Carmy through a couple of feet of metal. When the fire department came, they’d managed to open the door without breaking out the axe. Carmy was free, and Syd and Marcus sarcastically clapped and hooted, much to Carmy’s annoyance. 

Marcus laughed and exclaimed, “He returns!” before he threw an arm around Carmy’s shoulders. “Okay, back to work, chefs.” Carmy rolled his eyes before returning to his station. You laughed, “Well, at least you won’t forget to call the fridge guy again.” Carmy shot you a glare as you put your hands up defensively. “I’m not wrong, Berzatto.”

[jeonqkooks]

kyoho | ksj

You love your grape boy, and your grape boy... well, he might just love you a little too much.

pairing: seokjin x f!reader

rating: pg13

genre/warnings: established relationship, swearing bc when is there no swearing in my fics, mentions of seggs, suggestive themes, fluff, crack?? idk, my brand of fics is Unedited y'all know that's how we roll

word count: 1.8k

notes: i've been buying a lot of grapes lately (am i a grape person now??) and i've been eating them almost every day and of course i had to think about grape jinnie my beloved, my ultimate favorite seokjin and i want him to come back to me :((( idk that's how this lil thang came to me lmao it's the most crackhead shit i've ever written sOoOoOoOo please laugh or else ! ���� jk but not really

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

"If you do this, we're done."

"Y/N."

"I swear, if you go through with this, we are over!"

Seokjin sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly not expecting you to be so passionate about the subject at hand. "The appointment is in an hour," he says.

"Cancel it. I don't care!" you cry. "Please don't do this. Don't take him away. He means the world to me."

Your boyfriend stares at you, mouth agape, then points to his head incredulously. "Him? My hair?"

"Yes!" You crawl over to his side of the couch to straddle his lap, actual tears welling in your eyes. You run your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and silky it feels in your hands. His gorgeous, gorgeous purple locks. The ones he's ready to sacrifice in favor of half blond, half red hair by demand of one Jeon Jungkook.

You shouldn't be this upset over him dyeing his hair, but you are, despite knowing full well that the purple will be gone soon anyway. His dark roots are starting to show already.

It's shark week, and there are not enough words in the dictionary to express how devastated you are that he's taking away your emotional support Grape Jinnie.

A couple months ago, when he told you that he'd be dyeing his hair purple, you were highly skeptical of the decision. You didn't know if he had the face to pull off purple of all colors, even though you had already seen him sport every other color of the rainbow and absolutely rocked every single one.

The whole week leading up to his salon appointment, you teased him endlessly - started calling him Grape Boy, bought him box after box of Kyoho grapes, photoshopping Kylie Jenner's purple hair onto his head and making it your lockscreen... It was mostly just grape puns, you were really milking that whole thing.

But then he came home, hair freshly bleached and colored, and your jaw dropped to the ground and stayed there for ten whole minutes.

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets from how good he looked.

No, he didn't just look good. He was stunning, breathtaking, mindbogglingly beautiful and all the other synonyms that one could name.

The man fucking ate and left no crumbs.

That night was one of the best sex you two have ever had.

To say that you were obsessed with this shade on him is the understatement of the year.

"Don't do it," you plead. "If you really love me, you won't do it."

"You're being so dramatic. It's just hair." Seokjin puts his hands on your waist while you keep yours on his head, clutching his strands like a lifeline. "Plus, I have to honor the bet!"

Your expression turns stony then, as your eyes travel from the silky purple down to his face. You tighten your grip on his hair and tug on it sharply until your boyfriend is scowling in discomfort.

The bet. The stupid fucking bet he made with Jungkook.

You had explicitly told him there no chance in hell that he could win, but Seokjin could be an overly confident asshole sometimes.

He was in way over his head, and now you're the one suffering.

"You idiot," you hiss, pulling on his hair again, "why the fuck did you think you could do more pushups than Jungkook?"

"I don't know! We were tipsy and it seemed possible at the time!"

Releasing his hair, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale deeply.

"Why am I being punished for your actions?" you mumble against his skin, then you ask, voice full of futile hope. "What if you just... don't do it?"

"Then I have to buy him a new mattress. He cut his mattress with scissors to make it fit into his bed frame and now it's all fucked up."

You give yourself a minute to think. There has to be a solution to your distress. You just gotta think. Think, brain, think!

And then you remember. Seokjin is still a man.

You lean back to look at him properly, straightening your position on his lap. You give him your biggest puppy dog eyes before you say, "I promise I will blow you every day from now on if you keep the hair."

If he was drinking water, you're fairly certain that he would've choked. Your boyfriend's eyes widen in surprise, his skin turning a dozen shades warmer, blushing from his cheeks all the way to the top of his ears.

Bingo.

"What?" he asks, like this is something so scandalous.

You lean forward to pepper kisses all over his face, putting more weight on your offer. "I promise," you say, pecking his cute cheek, "to blow you," then his forehead, "every single day," then his nose, "from now on," and finally his lips.

You linger near his mouth, not pulling away just yet. Your lips brush against his once more until you feel his hands tighten on your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck to hold him closer as you press forward, giving him a proper kiss to seal the deal.

Seokjin practically melts underneath you. Victory is so close that you can taste it. You're doing this for the greater good of mankind, for Grape Jinnie. Jungkook can fuck off with his half seasoned, half fried bullshit.

But then, Seokjin abruptly rips away from you to shriek, nearly blowing your eardrums out. The suddenness of his movements almost make you tumble off the couch.

"No, don't try to tempt me! Mattresses are expensive as fuck!"

It's been a few hours. He should be back any minute now.

Ever since Seokjin left to go to his hair appointment after having to peel you off of him because you were clinging to his body like a goddamn koala, you've been wallowing in your misery. You even busted out the big guns - Ben & Jerry's Peanut Butter Cup ice cream (with real peanut butter cups!) - to help you through this difficult time.

You're in full grieving mode now. Goddamnit. Fate is a cruel mistress.

Or in this case, Jungkook. Jungkook is a cruel mistress. That fucking guy.

When you hear the door open and the subsequent clanging of Seokjin's keys as he hangs them on one of the hooks in the entryway, you prepare to give him the biggest pout you can manage.

But then, he comes into view a few seconds later, and you gasp. You actually gasp. Before he knows what's happening, you're rising from the couch and sprinting toward him, launching into his arms with the biggest smile on your face like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You're still a grape!" you squeal joyously.

Seokjin lets out a surprise Oof! at the sudden force of your body knocking the breath out of him.

"What a warm welcome," he mutters. "I don't think you've ever been this happy to see me."

"What happened?!" you ask, eyes wide, grin even wider. "Did you change your mind because you love me so much?"

You run your hands through his hair to make sure that it's real, that you're not hallucinating this because you just love the purple so goddamn much.

And it is! It's still here! His hair is still that luscious shade of purple that you adore with your entire being.

Seokjin eyes you for a moment before he says, "I compromised with Jungkook. Did something else instead."

"What did you do?"

"I got a tattoo."

"You what?!"

"He said I wouldn't have to dye my hair if I got a tattoo of his choosing."

"Oh, no," you try to sound sympathetic but fail miserably. You cover your mouth with your hand to hide your smile, already sensing the absolute crackhead chaos that will ensue in a matter of minutes. Having been friends with Jungkook for years, you know that dude comes up with the craziest shit sometimes.

Seokjin turns around and pulls up his shirt, and you almost die from the fit of ugly snorting laughter that immediately rips itself free from your mouth. His skin underneath the transparent cling film is still slightly red, but the letters adorning the expanse of his lower back is clear as day.

You cannot find it in yourself to blink, not when the black ink is just staring at you like that. The font, so formal and classic, and yet the content of it... what a contrast.

"Kim Seokjin!" you wheeze, wiping tears from your eyes and struggling to catch your breath. "How could you possibly think that this is a better idea than to just dye your hair!"

"You begged me to keep the hair!"

"I did," you agree, clutching your stomach as giggles continue wracking through your whole body. It's almost painful at this point. "But I don't want my boyfriend to have a tramp stamp that says fucking Chicken in Times New Roman!"

"It was either this," he says, turning back to face you, "or a sketch of his head on a chicken's body."

"What is up with him and chickens? Is that his new thing now?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"Well, thank you for doing that for me," you say appreciatively as you pull him in for a kiss, which isn't very graceful because you're still tittering the whole time. "But please tell me that's not permanent."

Seokjin stays quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor, and you stop laughing immediately.

"Oh my god," you say. "Is the Chicken tramp stamp permanent?!"

"No," he finally admits after a moment of hanging it over your head. As funny as the whole thing is, you do not want the love of your life to walk around sporting the most ridiculous tattoo in human history. "It's supposed to fade after a month."

You lean into him again, heaving a giant sigh of relief and wrapping your arms around his neck. One of your hands go for his hair again, weaving through the soft locks with your fingers because how could you not? "I love you, Grape," you say, pecking his cheek with a grin.

Seokjin rolls his eyes affectionately, but returns a peck to your own cheek. "I have a tramp stamp of the word Chicken and my parents might disown me for that, but at least you get to keep your Grape Boy," he says, making you giggle again.

"Because you love me so much, right?"

"Hmm. You're lucky I do."

You give him another kiss, one full of gratitude, for indulging your antics. When you move to return to the couch, Seokjin tugs on your wrist, pulling you back into him.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong," he says, acting all coy and shit, "but I recall you making me a promise earlier, no? What was it again?"

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 16.04.2023]

[wayfayrr]

Is yandere Tears on the table?

yandere tears is most definitely on the table <33 I've got the start of a yan!self-aware!Tears too, which I'll be working on when I can think of a way to make it more unique to the others (I'm thinking full giffany rn) I'll work on a formal set of hc's for him soon as well, but for now I've got a little drabble of him <3

“My sweet sundelion, why are you so eager to go?”

“The others think that this might be the final solution for me to go home and…”

“You want to leave?”

He sounds so choked up at the idea of me leaving, crying harder than I’ve ever seen him cry before and using my shoulder as the place to wipe them away. It’s heartbreaking, but he knew from day one that I would have to leave at some point I never hid that from him. I just never thought he’d get so attached. 

“I need too, I have so much back home and hyrule really isn’t safe for me - what are you-”

“No, no, no, no you can’t leave, you can’t, [name], [name] please, you, what if you forget me, or get hurt, or…no, no please you can’t leave, you can’t leave me.”

The familiar glow of his arm, granted it still looks different to how it did in game, and the tug on my shirt tells me what he’s doing in his desperation. Fusing us together in a last-ditch attempt to keep me from leaving, not that I could leave his side after everything; he wasn’t even patient enough to wait for an explanation. 

“Lilac, I’m eager to leave hyrule, not you.”

“But, but you’re still trying to leave, you, [name] I will do anything, anything to stay by your side, no matter what, how many rupees I have to pay, how much blood you would have me spill in your name.”

“Link, my little sherbert, you aren’t listening to me.” That made him pause, the tears are still flowing but now he’s looking at me rather than rambling on about worries he doesn’t need to stress over. 

“I’m leaving hyrule link, not you, never you. I was planning to ask if you would come with me, but I think I know your answer now.” “Well, you’re stuck with me either way now.”

“That’d be a better pun if you weren’t laughing through tears telling it.”

“What can I say, I’m living up to my name… and you love me for it anyway.”

“Yeah, I do, wouldn't change a thing.”

[in-my-feels-probably]

MY HUSBAND CARMEN OMFG PLEAZE CARMEN X READER ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP AND IM JUST IMAGINING READER HAVING LIKE TJE WORST DAY POSSIBLE AND LIKE FUCKING EVERYTHING UP AT THE RESTAURANT AND JUSG LIKE PRACTICALLY IN TEARS BY THE END OF THEIR DAY AND CARMEN LIKE GIVES HER A MASSAGE AND TAKES CARE OF HER AND MAYBE LIKE SOME SWEET INTERACTIONS WITH THE OTHERS AT THE RESTAURANT IF IGS OKAY

Mishaps and Bear Hugs

Request: MY HUSBAND CARMEN OMFG PLEAZE CARMEN X READER ALREADY IN A RELATIONSHIP AND IM JUST IMAGINING READER HAVING LIKE TJE WORST DAY POSSIBLE AND LIKE FUCKING EVERYTHING UP AT THE RESTAURANT AND JUSG LIKE PRACTICALLY IN TEARS BY THE END OF THEIR DAY AND CARMEN LIKE GIVES HER A MASSAGE AND TAKES CARE OF HER AND MAYBE LIKE SOME SWEET INTERACTIONS WITH THE OTHERS AT THE RESTAURANT IF IGS OKAY

Hi! Sorry for the wait. I’m still getting used to writing Carmy’s character, so bear with me while I get the hang of it. Thank you for the request, this is a cute idea. I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: a shitty pun in the title, swearing, slight injury, a bad day, let me know if i missed anything)

—

“I’m gonna fucking kill Richie,” you said as you walked back into the kitchen, taking a deep breathe.

“You can’t kill him if he isn’t here,” Marcus called over as he loaded his trays of bread onto the racks.

“I’ll kill him tomorrow, then,” you said, walking over to Tina’s station. “Tina, I am begging you to work the register for a little bit. Richie called out, and I’m going to lose my mind if one more asshole walks in here and tries some shit. I’ll do your work for you, please—”

Tina laughed, putting her knife down. “Alright, alright, we can switch. You’re taking the heat if I slap someone, though.”

“Thank you, thank you,” you sighed in relief, pulling an apron over your head.

Tina nodded, walking through the kitchen doors and into the front of house.

You went back to Tina’s duties, chopping up the vegetables she hadn’t finished. You put a pot on the stove, turning on the burner. You added all the vegetables to the pot, looking around for any stock to boil them down in.

“Sydney, do you know where the stock is? I thought I brought it out this morning.”

“Walk-in, top shelf,” Marcus said, pointing. “Sorry, I thought you were done with it and I put it up.”

“That’s fine, thanks,” you sighed, going to the walk-in.

Of course it had to be on the top shelf. The one thing you needed, just out of reach. You stood on your toes, pulling it down. You managed to get it down off the shelf, but as you adjusted your grip on it when you turned to leave, the lid slipped and the container fell to the floor.

Luckily, the container didn’t turn over and spill. But it did send the stock spurting up at the impact, splashing you. Your apron took the brunt of the impact, but it still splashed up into your hair, coating your shoes.

You groaned, opened the door with your back and pushed through, the container now in your hands. “Marcus! When you put shit back, could you at least make sure the lid is on tight?”

Marcus took one look at you and stifled a laugh, biting his tongue. “Shit, I'm sorry. Need me to grab a towel?”

“Yes,” you muttered, returning to your vegetables.

As you looked in the bottom of the pan, you realized they had begun to blacken on the bottom from not having any liquid in the pot with them. You had taken too long with the stock, and now the vegetables were likely ruined and would need to be re-chopped and boiled.

You groaned, reaching for the handles of the pot to take it off the stove. When your hand touched the pot, it immediately singed your fingers, making you quickly retract them.

“Fuck!” You said, blowing on them to try and stop the heat of the burn. “God, that hurts.”

At all the commotion and the sound of your distressed voice, the door to Carmy’s office opened. He peeked his head out, only to see you standing by the stove, clutching your hand to your chest, fresh tears brewing in your eyes and threatening to fall.

“Hey,” he said softly, coming up to you and holding you by your shoulders. “What happened?”

You scoffed, nearly laughing with anger. What hadn’t happened? What hadn’t gone wrong?

“What happened? What happened is Richie didn’t show up to work, so I had to take his shift on the register. And then a man and his buddies came in and told me I was shit at my job because I couldn’t ring up their five hundred fucking sandwiches they ordered fast enough. So, Tina switched with me and I chopped up her vegetables she had left and put them in a pot. I was gonna boil them down in a stock, but the stock was on the top shelf in the walk-in. I got it down, but the lid wasn’t on tight enough, so it slipped when I got it down and splashed all over me and my hair and my shoes. I went to check the vegetables, and they had already burned to the bottom of the pot because I didn’t get the stock quick enough, so I went to pull the pot off the stove and burned the fuck out of my hand. I’m just having such a shit day, I can’t do anything right, I’m fucking it up for all of you—”

Carmy gently shushed you, taking the towel Marcus had brought over and wiping any stock he could see off of you.

“It’s fine, Y/N, it’s alright. It’s nothing we can’t fix. I don’t care about the stock, I care about that burn. Come with me, alright?”

You shook your head, groaning. “No, I made a mess and I need to clean it—“

Sydney interrupted you, already moving to fix the stock. “Go get your hand checked out, we’ve got this. It’s alright, really.”

“Sorry about the lid,” Marcus said, clapping you on the shoulder.

You shook your head, letting out a breath. “It’s fine. Thanks, guys.”

You let Carmy lead you into his office, staying quiet as he pulled out a first aid kit. He held your hand in his, turning it over to get a good look at the burn.

“It’s not bad. I’m gonna wrap it, though. Does it hurt?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that bad. It hurts less than my pride, that’s for sure.”

Carmy let out a chuckle as he wrapped your hand, finishing and moving his hand up to smooth over your hair. “You’ve got stock in your hair.”

You knew he was just teasing, and that he didn’t mean anything bad by it, but you could still feel tears well up again. Carmy sighed, pulling you into a hug. He let a hand rest on the back of your head, the other running up and down your back.

“Today fucking sucks,” you muttered into his shoulder. “I’m gonna kill Richie tomorrow.”

“Then who would work the register?” He joked, making you huff.

You pulled back, and Carmy brought a hand up to cup your cheek, wiping away some dried stock. He left his palm there, and you leaned into it, taking a deep breath.

“You’re alright, baby. Shitty day, I know. Tomorrow will be better.”

“That’s eerily optimistic coming from you,” you grinned, making Carmy smile.

“I didn’t say it would be better for me,” he said, bending down to put away the first aid kit. “But it’ll be better for you. Richie will be back, and you can yell at him tomorrow. I’ll put you with Marcus, he’s doing cakes tomorrow. You can help him, alright?”

You nodded, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. Your voice was quiet, defeated. “Thank you.”

Carmy pressed a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He gently rocked you back and forth, and you could instantly feel yourself ease in his hold.

“You’re welcome, baby.”

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this is a little short, I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for the request!

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

This week I have mostly been reading...

May 20-26th, 2024

Hooray, I’ve managed it for the second week in a row! *If you have written/illustrated one of the works I've mentioned and I've not tagged you, please let me know!*

Completed works I've read this week:

Under Construction by @summerofspock Rated E – Honestly, this one can be summed up by the rather excellent tags ‘there was only one wifi’, ‘weaponized coziness’, ‘erotic woodchopping’ and ‘emotionally significant flannel’ (as in the shirt, not the miniature towel for cleaning one’s self…). It’s cosy, it’s Hallmarkian, it’s disaster puppy Crowley, and Aziraphale has a beard. 10/10 no notes.

Temporal Adjustment by @ukcalico & @vavoom-sorted-art Rated E – Written by Calico to accompany the ever-wonderful vavoom’s art, it’s a Post S1 Ritz scene which plays with time and some *very* spicy scenes. Three chapters of mild D/s content – mind the tags if you’re new to that world.

Sweet Dreams: A Companion Fic by @sixbynine-da & @vavoom-sorted-art Rated E – went down a vavoom rabbit hole, which is truly a delightful hole to go down…pun erm…not intended? But perhaps it was. Anyway. The tags initially had me hesitant to read this one (blood drinking, blood as lube) but it was a much more minor point than I was worried about and it ended up being a beautifully accepting, tender, loving story. I shed a couple of tears at this one.

You Can Stay At My Place, If You Like by AstroGirl Rated T – A lovely, touching piece about the moment A & C switch corporations/bodies and get to experience each other’s thoughts and feelings. Both POVs are written throughout the story, which adds a richness and emotion to it.

If It Looks Like A Duck, And Buzzes Like A Duck, It’s A Sex Toy by @quefish77 Rated M – Look at me bring the tone down after the last recommendation, but ho hum. This one had me weeping with laughter. Once again, the tags tell the story for me: ‘Look if you’re here for medical advice I got bad news for you’, If you don’t say WTF and laugh at least 3 times I’ve failed’, ‘Tags Are Fun’, ‘How many will you read before you roll your eyes and read the fic?, ‘Congratulations! You made it to the end of the tags’, ‘I lied there are more tags’. Yes…there were more tags. I laughed continuously throughout the entire fic, so I’m not sure if that counted as more than three times, and I read all the tags before I started reading, but I can guarantee this does not disappoint, but then none of Quefish’s work ever does if you’re looking for humour.

Aziraphale’s Diaries series by azzfell & @fellshish Rated T – This is a four-part series of humorous, fluffy diary entries written by A. 1. Empirical study on the principles of snake care – A tries to look after C as you would a snake…be ready to cringe and facepalm and giggle 2. Experiments of an angel who has read entirely too much fanfic – A finds fanfic. Tries some of what he’s read on C. Yikes. 3. How to be a demon: a brief history of the Arrangement – I can’t describe it any better than the authors’ description: “The Arrangement: the hard and challenging life of an angel who tries to make a demon do good deeds, and in turn has to perform temptations and wear devilishly sexy outfits.” 4. Adventures of a mystery shopper in the bookshop – this was by far my favourite. A puts C in charge of the bookshop…and then mystery shops. I laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

Lit by @fellshish Rated T – C decides to take a Uni course on literature (for absolutely no reason whatsoever…definitely not because he wants to impress a certain angel with his literary knowledge, nope, nuh uh)…but it turns out to be slightly different to what he was expecting…and they’re discussing Good Omens. Shit.

If You Touch Me You’ll Understand What Happiness Is by locketofyourhair Rated E – It’s no secret I like a bit of angst. You need only read what I write to get smacked round the side of the head with it. This one’s got it in spades. C confesses their love for A – repeatedly – through time. To keep them safe, A erases the memory of the confession each time. But A never forgets. Ouch. It does have a happy ending, though. Phew.

Lace And Gold Braid by @elsajeni Rated M – After rescuing A from the Bastille, C went to bed for 70 years. He never actually said he was sleeping. This fic goes into lots of delicious detail about A’s slutty, slutty outfit. The imagery is really well written and it has a podfic!

WIPs which have updated this week (which I devour as soon as I get the update!)

There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se Rated M - A is a researcher (puffins!), C is a lighthouse keeper on the island where A has run away to to escape his problems and do his research. The author has recently spent a week studying puffins - which is the ultimate dedication, if you ask me. Ch 9/26 posted this week

Find The Light by @klikandtuna Rated E - Headmaster A and Rockstar C. The story teases out a fraught history between them whilst keeping a tension between them in the modern day. Ch 6/? posted this week.

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley Rated T - Astronaut A is guided back to Earth by controller C after 92 years in space. There are many difficulties both of them have to face and they develop an amazing rapport. Ch 16/17 posted this week.

Oddity by @tsyvia48 Rated E - Actor C is contracted by (useless) Gabriel to guest curate an exhibition at the museum where A works. After getting off on the wrong foot, can they work together to pull off this show? Ch 23/26 posted this week (note increased chapter count!)

Under The Summer Stars by @pannotbread Rated E - This wonderful fic has taught me more about physics than school ever did (mostly because I never did any physics, but...well). A & C have to share their time at an observatory because there is Only One Telescope. Not only will you learn about astrophysics, astrobiology, and astroecology, you'll also read some of the most poetically, beautifully written masturbation scenes I've ever seen. *ahem* Ch 7/13 posted this week.

Exodus2 by @tismrot Rated E – Human AU set in a dystopian future. The summary says it best, really: Ezra studies programming at the University of ha-Gan. He’s as determined as he is damaged, as fastidious as he is precise, and likes to believe he'll stop at nothing to achieve his goals. His beliefs are challenged when a new student appears late to the first Ethics module lecture - and his life is changed forever. It's the future, it's dystopian, it's cyber and it's punk. It's political, grimy and slick with tears, lube and chemical snot. TW: Sex, drugs, trauma. Ch 28/35 posted this week.

Free by well, me: imposterssyndrome Rated E - A & C meet (again?) in an acute mental health ward after both having had mental health crises. A runs a bookshop but is very much under his parents' control. C has been homeless since childhood and has struggled his entire life. They do not trust each other when they first meet, but feel strangely drawn to one another all the same. Where will this lead them? This is a passion piece for me. There is a lot of lived experience in it, and extensive research from both professionals and peers. It has been a real journey for me to write it, and as I'm coming closer to the end it's becoming very emotional for me. Ch 45/? posted this week

[aenwoedbeannaa]

I'm Sorry || The Last of Us One-Shot

Summary: Joel had no idea that Sam had been bitten during the struggle, and he certainly had no idea how much it would hurt to see Ellie’s new friend gone, just like that. 

Warnings: Child death, suicide, guns

Words: 1365

A/N: I saw this post asking for someone to write this, and I am a sucker for brooding surrogate fathers and their feisty surrogate daughters, so I did it. Major spoilers for The Last of Us S1E5 and for the video game.

“Kids must be sleeping in,” Joel said as he glanced toward the closed door.

“Bet they stayed up all night reading those comics,” Henry responded with a small smile. It had been so long since he had seen Sam so happy. He’d had so little to be happy about in his short life.

“Or that damn book of puns,” Joel chuckled despite himself. 

“Oh, yeah,” Henry laughed. “Diarrhea. Hereditary. It runs in your jeans.”  Henry looked truly happy–the kind of happy that Joel had not seen anyone be in twenty years. Except Ellie. Ellie was so full of brightness and life, despite being an orphan who had likely lost more than just her parents.

“I’m just glad Sam has a friend,” Sam said after a moment. 

Joel tried to suppress a smile, but the corners of his lips tugged up just a little. It was easy to forget, somehow, that Ellie was just a child. A very special child, sure, but still just a child. 

Joel heard Ellie scream and was on his feet in a fraction of a second. They’d searched the building, there were no infected here. 

A moment later, Ellie burst through the door, Sam following behind her. But, it wasn’t Sam anymore. Where a sweet and innocent little boy had once stood, there was an infected child, teeth gnashing as he attempted to rip his friend to shreds. 

“Fuck!” Henry yelled, voice cracking. He looked at Joel, already reaching for the pistol holstered at his waist. “NO!” 

Joel looked at Henry, who now had a pistol of his own pointed at Joel. Joel raised his hands, but still moved towards Ellie. Sure, she couldn’t be infected, but he’d seen what these things could do. Even little children, once infected, could rip apart an adult human with ease. 

He didn’t have much time to think about a plan, because all of a sudden, he heard the crack of a single gunshot and watched as Sam slumped to the ground next to Ellie. Her eyes glistened with tears, face frozen in shock. 

Joel fought the urge to run to her, as Henry still had the gun. That had to be dealt with first. 

“What did I just do?” Henry asked seemingly to no one, “What did I do?” 

Joel had seen situations like this play out before and immediately took a step towards Henry. “Henry, give me the gun.” Ellie sniffled from where she still sat on the floor. 

“Give him the gun, Henry, please,” Ellie pleaded from her place on the floor. Joel had never seen such panic on her face before. She looked almost desperate. 

Henry did not seem to hear them. He just kept repeating himself, “What did I do? What did I do?” 

Instead, he raised the gun to his own head. It happened so fast that Joel had no way to stop it. 

“Henry, n–” Joel’s words were cut off by the crack of another single gunshot and the thud of Henry’s body hitting the floor. 

Joel looked from Henry’s body to the body of the young boy, blood seeping from a single gunshot wound, face horribly disfigured and looking nothing like the face of the innocent little boy he had been only hours before. 

Then he looked at Ellie. She was on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, tears flowing from her eyes. His eyes locked with hers, and he did not even think about what to do next. He rushed to her. 

When he reached her, he lowered himself to the floor, pulling Ellie into a tight hug. He could feel her warm tears soaking into his shirt, and he was filled with anger. Not anger at Ellie, but anger that she lived in a world where her friends could be ripped away in a fraction of a second.

“I tried,” Ellie said through tears, “I tried healing him–my blood, my blood is supposed to be medicine… I thought, I thought–” 

“Shh,” Joel said softly, pulling the girl tighter against his chest, “You did what you could, Ellie. I’m sure it’s… more complicated than that.”

“Joel,” she said his name as if it were some comfort to her. He was glad, at least, for that. But it hurt–it hurt to know that this girl lost yet another friend. 

Joel stroked her hair, wishing he could take her pain away–wishing that she did not have to live in a world that was so cold and cruel. “At least he spent his last hours believing he was going to be ok. He didn’t spend it scared.”

Ellie’s face scrunched in thought, and she sighed, “Yeah… Yeah, I guess you’re right.” But then her face fell, “But I told him I would stay awake with him. I promised.”

Joel shook his head, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Ellie.”

“C’mon, baby girl, let’s get out of here,” Joel finally said. They needed to leave, for Ellie’s benefit as well as his own. But he did not let her go. Instead, he gathered her in his arms and stood up. 

“Joel,” Ellie said, still a spark in her voice, “I can still walk, you know.” There was his Ellie, already trying to lighten the mood. 

“I know,” Joel confirmed, eyes sweeping over the room. Sam lay on the floor where he’d fallen after Henry’s single gunshot, and Henry lay only a few feet away, that single deadly gunshot wound in his head. Ellie did not deserve to see things like that. 

Ellie lifted her head from where she had buried it in his chest and opened her mouth to speak, but Joel stopped her, “Don’t look, Ellie,” he pleaded, “Just look at me, baby. Look at me.”

“No, Joel,” Ellie responded. “We should… We should bury them. We can’t just leave them here.” 

Joel’s heart broke. After all she had experienced, all she had seen, she still wanted to bury her friends–still wanted to show them that kindness. Overwhelming guilt washed over him then, too. He’d been so cold to her. Tears welled in his eyes despite himself–he hadn’t bothered with things like crying for what seemed like a lifetime now. 

Ellie must have noticed, because she squeezed him tighter. “I’m sorry, Joel. About Henry… your friend.” 

“It’s not your fault, baby girl, it’s not your fault,” he said as he placed her back on the ground, still with her back facing the carnage. 

Dammit, he was breaking all of his own rules. He knew nothing good could come from this. Caring for people had not exactly worked out well for him in the past. His only option was to do everything in his power to get Ellie to the Fireflies, where she could be truly safe. 

“Ok,” he finally nodded his agreement. “But you wait here while I get them outside.”

“You got it, boss man.”

The corners of his lips tugged up just a little once again. Shit, this girl really had something special about her, beyond her immunity. Face returning to his usual blank slate, he forced himself to look at the bodies of their new, now dead, friends.

“Ellie?” he asked softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and crouching down so his head was even with hers.

“Joel?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“About Tess…” he began, choking on the words, “You were right. That wasn’t your fault, either.”

Ellie’s face fell, her eyes welling with tears again, “It still feels like my fault.”

Joel’s heart shattered at that. It was his fault she felt like it was her fault. He was the one who treated her as if she caused Tess’s death. He couldn’t let her carry that guilt with her. That guilt that she did not deserve. 

“Oh, baby girl,” he said, pulling her into a hug once more, “It was the world’s fault, not yours. It was never yours.” He breathed, preparing himself to apologize for the first time in what felt like forever, "I'm sorry... for making you feel like it was."

“But what if it's you next?” she asked through tears. 

“Kiddo,” he said, shaking his head, “Lot’s of infected and lots more people have tried and they haven’t had any luck yet.” He needed her not to worry. She was just a child.

His child.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Headcanons for having your period and being Eddie Munson's significant other...

He's not grossed out about it like most teenage boys. He doesn't find it taboo or off putting at all. He understands that it's a thing that happens that cannot be controlled.

He reassures you about it and that he won't be disgusted. He knows that you've basically been told for years to not talk about it, to be ashamed but he undoes all of that and makes sure that you know you can talk about it with him.

"You know, you don't have to stress over getting your period. You don't need to hide it from me or be ashamed. You literally cannot help it. It's okay, I don't mind."

You're worried he won't be able to handle the mood swings and the tears that ensue in the days leading up to your period but he does. Sure, you might be a little snippy and a little grumpy but he doesn't mind. When you cry, he just scoops you into his arms peppering little kisses all over your face. Eddie's very good at making you smile and laugh even when you feel awful so you usually end up laughing and feeling a little better.

The first time you bleed on his sheets, you're mortified. You want to cry and curl into a ball. When Eddie wakes up, he knows something's wrong and when you tell him he's like 'so? get back to bed'.

"Show me, is it a massive puddle? No, baby, that's tiny! Plus it's all dried in. Let's just get some more sleep, we deserve it. We'll wash the sheets once we wake up again."

"You don't think it's gross?"

"No? Now come on, let's get at least another hour's sleep."

He wraps you back up in his arms and pulls you back down to sleep. You could cry at how kind he is about it, even though it should be the norm you'd only only ever been shamed for having a period and made to feel dirty and gross so it feels nice that he just doesn't care.

He'll send you off to the shower whilst he gathers the sheets and your pyjamas ready to wash them all. He doesn't complain, doesn't get grossed out; he just smiles and tells you not to worry.

"The whole period thing... it's pretty metal. Like it's super hardcore, you know? It's pretty awesome. Though I hate the pain you go through... Pretty cool that bodies can do that."

He lets you keep a little box in his dresser for pads, tampons and wipes etc just so neither of you have to go out and buy more.

Eddie will go and buy you tampons etc if you ask him to. The first time he did was a little crazy because he didn't know what type to get but after that, he made a point to remember the brand and the specific type you liked.

When he buys you pads, he'll always make sure to grab you a little snack too.

"I got you a little snack cause you deserve it."

He's super sweet regardless but when you're on your period, he always goes the extra mile for you because he knows that it's painful and he knows that your emotions are upside down (no pun intended).

He'll get you a heating pad or a hot water bottle for your cramps, he'll give you a massage to distract you from the pain, he'll cuddle you for hours and watch any soppy movie you watch (even though he hates them and he knows they'll all make you sob).

"How we doing, little one? A bit better? Anything else you want me to get you?"

If you're up for it, because you can get pretty horny on your period, Eddie doesn't mind period sex. Sex is sex and if it feels good for the two of you then he's into it. He puts a towel down for the mess and the two of you will shower afterwards. It's absolutely not a big deal or a deal breaker for Eddie. He doesn't want to make your pain worse though so he makes you promise that if it hurts, you'll stop him.

Soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks and nose when you're cuddling.

Murmurs of reassurance and love against you as you cry from the pain of the cramps.

"I wish I could take it away, baby. It'll be over soon. You can squeeze my hand if you want."

He's just very sweet about it all in general and if anyone was to make a comment like 'oh is it your time of the month? that's why you've been so moody' he'll most likely tear into them.

[kleenex-tissues]

Yours Truly (20)

AO3 here

Ch. 20 - Time is Running Out

Chat Noir felt like his life was falling apart around him, and no amount of luck could save him now. When the akuma first appeared, it seemed like it would be just like any other. An angry ex-boyfriend who had found out his girlfriend was cheating on him and apparently needed it to be everyone’s problem. He thought it would be easy, and he might even get a full night of sleep tonight. Of course he had to go and jinx himself.

Ladybug had beaten him to the scene by just a few moments, and despite her serious demeanor, he knew she was just as relieved to have a quick battle. She had that tell-tale slump of her shoulders whenever she relaxed, a quirk he picked up on from their hangouts as civilians. He had heard the akuma yelling about some ‘lying, cheating ex’ through his bedroom window, and raced across town to meet them.

“Hello, Chaton. Fancy seeing you here,” she teased.

Adrien couldn’t help but smile in return, cocking his hip and placing his hand on it. “I was on the prowl , so I figured I’d stop by. How are you feline today?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes before turning her gaze back to the akuma. The man was almost indistinguishable from your average citizen, save for a green hue to his skin. Jealousy was a big green monster, after all, and Adrien couldn’t blame him for feeling that way.

“I’m feeling pretty lucky . Are you ready?”

He loved when she punned right back at him. 

The superduo drew in their arms for a loose fighting stance, scanning the akuma’s body for any sign of an akumatized object, and settled on the squirtgun in his right hand. What in the world was this man doing when Hawkmoth found him?

His face contorted into a terrible grin, which sent fear ricocheting through his bones, and suddenly, Ladybug’s shoulders were no longer relaxed. He raised the squirtgun to point at them, laughing in a way no human should be able to do.

“Hey there, strangers! Did you come to see my grand show?,” he cackled at the duo, before his face suddenly dropped into a deep frown. “See, my sweet darling girlfriend decided to tear my heart in two. I found her draped under a man in my own bed! And the best part?”

He stopped with a dramatic flick of his hand, waiting for them to respond. When he realized the heroes had no intention of doing so, he began shaking the squirtgun at them and screaming, “I asked you if you could guess the best part!”

Ladybug flinched backwards at the sudden aggression, so Adrien took the lead, swallowing, “Did she apologize?”

Laughter shook through the akuma once more, but it sounded more like he was choking on his own breath. He leaned down to place his hands on his bent knees in an effort to not double over. It was unsettling, and it felt as though a sudden chill had settled over Paris. Thankfully, the street had long emptied as they conversed. He stood back up, his face once more stilled into rage.

“She laughed! Can you believe that? She looked me dead in the eyes from underneath that man and couldn’t stop laughing! I had a ring! I was going to propose to her tonight!

“But Hawkmoth saw my pain. And he gave me the power to make the whole world feel it. I started with her and that man, spraying them with this sweet little squirtgun he hand delivered me, and they kept laughing. They kept laughing until they dropped.

“He lovingly dubbed me ‘Venom.’ I now have the power to destroy this city, and every person who has ever wronged another will laugh until they fall, too.” 

Venom hadn’t moved throughout his speech – not even to breathe or blink. He merely stared them down, and when he finished his declaration, he raised his squirtgun at them again. “And you, Ladybug and Chat Noir, are the biggest sinners of them all.”

The superduo managed to dodge right before the acidic liquid from the squirtgun could touch them, and the ground where it landed began to fizzle. His words hadn’t made much sense, but instinctively, they knew whatever was in that canister would spell their own deaths. And now, the battle truly began.

Venom began chasing them across the city, spraying whoever he could spy peeking through the windows. Adrien attempted to divert his attention by splitting off from Ladybug’s side. Their only chance of ensuring nobody else got hurt was to end this as quickly as possible, and to do that, Ladybug needed time to activate her lucky charm and formulate a plan. He just needed to be more interesting at the moment.

He turned around, winking at Venom and yelling, “Catch me if you can! We’ll see who’s laughing afterwards.” Then, he leapt to the right, and Ladybug to the left.

–

Marinette was racing against time, and apparently a green laughing akuma. This was not the way she imagined spending her night, and the ‘bakery’ excuse would only satiate Damian for so long.

She ducked behind a chimney, willing her heart to beat quieter. She had never been so afraid of an akuma, and it did not bode well for her limited luck. She needed to take him down as fast as possible. Her hands shook as she threw her yo-yo into the air, whispering, “Lucky charm.”

What fell into her hands was the last thing she expected, and she felt the tears begin to settle in her eyes from frustration. Sitting delicately in her palm was a polka dotted batarang. Aside from the pattern, it was identical to the very same one she had collected weeks ago. What was Tikki trying to tell her? To wait for back-up from Batman, of all people?

Aside from the fact that Batman hadn’t made another appearance since, she struggled to understand why she wouldn’t just bring in more heroes from the miracle box. This didn’t seem to be a villain they could risk much with, she supposed. She was already afraid of losing Chat Noir, the self-sacrificing idiot that he was.

What choice did she have but to run the akuma in circles until Batman appeared? She wasn’t even sure what the akumatized object was.

Laughter rang from the end of the alley below as a young woman wandered into it. Her laugh broke in what Marinette assumed was pain. She dared to lean forward just enough to see who it was, but quickly felt the bile rise in her throat. The woman’s face was contorted into the same terrifying smile as the akuma’s had been, showing too many teeth and her skin stretching in an impossible way. Her eyes were red from the strain and blood was dripping down her cheeks like tears. Her skin was a similar shade of green to the akuma, as well. Right before Marinette’s eyes, she coughed out a mouthful of blood and fell to the ground with a dull thud .

The horror coursing through Marinette’s body prevented her from doing more than falling onto her hands and knees and emptying the contents of her stomach onto the roof before her. Her time as Ladybug had forced her to see death countless times, but never like this. It was usually people being frozen in time, instant and painless. But this – this was a death she would never unsee. She had no idea Hawkmoth was capable of such horrific acts.

She wouldn’t do it – couldn’t go back out there – but she had to. Heroes didn’t have the luxury to give up. She would de-evilize this man, or she would die trying.

–

As it turned out, the more people Venom murdered, the larger he grew. He swung at buildings, toppling the Parisian skyline in minutes. Marinette had decided somewhere around hour three to take a chance on bringing out Viperion and Carapace to evacuate whatever civilians they could find. She knew they would stay out of trouble where they could, but the sinking feeling of fear still settled in her stomach. No one else could come out. They couldn’t take that risk.

At hour ten, she watched as Venom decimated her parents’ bakery with nothing more than a kick. Her entire life crumbled before her eyes into nothing more than rubble. She could only hope that her parents made it out in time. 

Hour seventeen found her and Adrien straddling the lower beam of Pont Alexandre III while their kwamis recharged their energy for the second time. Marinette felt as though the slightest breeze would knock her off of the bridge and into the Seine below. Adrien kept a steadying hand on his partner, but he was beginning to feel the exhaustion seeping into his strained muscles. If she went down now, he might just sink with her.

“How long did you say it would take for backup?,” he mumbled at her.

“I didn’t.”

It wasn’t until hour twenty-nine that the exhaustion became unbearable. They had dodged, ducked, thrown objects, cataclysmed what was left of the skyline, and fighting to keep Venom contained within the city limits. If he managed to escape, there was no telling what havoc he would reap across France. 

Marinette struggled to keep her eyes open and her body upright. Even with Tikki’s magical enhancement of her human limits, she had been awake far too long. The fight itself had only been twenty-nine hours, but she had been awake and working long before that. She wouldn’t last more than an hour, and Adrien wouldn’t be far behind.

Her maneuvers had become increasingly unsteady. All it took was her body reacting one beat too late to dodge, and she was hurtling into the Seine with a pipe stuck through her upper thigh. Her body had become numb somewhere through the day, so the only notion alerting her to the wound was the blood that trailed through the sky in her wake. Did she always have that much blood?

Everything was moving in slow motion. She saw Adrien blink away his tiredness, quickly replaced by a scream – at least, that’s what she assumed he was doing. She currently existed in a vacuum of space, no sound but the ringing in her ears. The concrete wall the pipe had originally been stuck in propelled her body further en route to the water, and she could see bits of gravel slowly flying off before her eyes. 

The splash in the water happened so suddenly, so much quicker than it should have been, and the darkness snapped around her.

[twistnet]

no pun intended [ adam ruzek ]

SUMMARY ─ you had picked up a little joke book one night, and take every chance you get to tell adam one of your jokes to lighten the mood around the station

PROMPT ─ [ no pun intended ]  you tell your lover a joke, which results in them laughing so hard they begin crying

WARNINGS ─ female!reader + general fluff [ horrible yet funny jokes, laughing so hard one cries, kisses + general humor ]

you sat perched on the edge of adam’s desk, smiling down at the little joke book in your hands as you flipped through the different pages -- giggling to yourself as you read over a few of the jokes listed out.

the book ‘no pun intended’ had been a little gift to yourself after a hard week. while you had originally gone into the bookstore with the idea of getting something to occupy your mind for the next two to three days, you had walked out with not only your intended purchase but a series of little joke books that you couldn’t resist in getting.

adam had come walking in, raising a brow as he already found you at his desk -- a habit you had picked up recently and was slowly becoming apart of your morning routine the second you got to the station. you greeted him kindly as he saddle up to his desk, dropping his backpack into his desk drawer before looking over at what you had in your hands, “no pun intended by will livingston. you got a joke book?” he questions after a moment, shaking his head in disappointment as you shoot him a beaming smile.

“they were so cute... and they’re a series! so, i got both of them and another by kathryn mccormack. i listen to this, why did the scarecrow get an award?” you pause for a dramatic effect, “he was outstanding in his field.” you finish out, laughing to yourself as adam simply rolled his eyes.

“oh, lighten up! it’s cute, and definitely something to take a break from the heavy work we’ve been having. so can you please just indulge me for a moment while i have my fun?” you plead, shooting him a set of your best puppy dog eyes before happy continuing on when he sighs and gestures for you to continue.

“3.14% of sailors are pi rates.” you utter out, smiling widely as adam lightly chuckles before you roll out another, “newspaper headline reads: cartoonist found dead at home, details are sketchy.” each little joke you told had slowly worn adam down as he let out a few chuckles here and there after you would finish one out.

“oh! a criminal`s best asset... is his lie-ability.” you smile, pointing adam in the stomach softly as he chuckles some more, shaking his head at just how dumb yet simple some of the jokes were, until you had hit him with one of the best in the book, “diarrhea is hereditary... it runs in your genes.”

that particular little joke had sent adam into a frenzy of laughter. causing him to double over as he laughed hard, tears already begin to leak from his eyes as he struggled to catch a breath -- laughing harder with each passing minute as you laughter along with him.

he sucked in a deep breath, face and neck red as he wiped away his tears and looked over at you, “i haven’t heard that joke since middle school... the others were pretty good, but i don’t know why that one just gets me every time.” he comments, smiling up at you as you pat your shoulder proudly, happy to have at least gotten him to smile and a laugh a little before the work day had started.

“mighty proud of yourself for buying you little joke book, huh?” adam questions,  shaking his head as you nod quickly, “yes, because it did the thing i wanted it to do. and that was make you smile.” the smile that splits across your face is contagious, warming adam’s heart as he stands from his desk, sparing a quick glance around the office before pressing his lips against your own.

“well, you did a great job, thank you.” he states genuinely, before ushering you off towards your desk as the rest of the team slowly begins to make their way up the stairs and towards their respective desks. there was a high possibility of it being a long day, but adam knew that the little start to the morning had already made it the best day by far.

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[mandaloriandragontrainer]

OH MY GOSH RAYLLUM HEADCANONS OKAY OKAY

they share beds all of the time for several adorable tooth-rottingly-cute reasons because 1) cuddles oh my god rayla is SO TOUCH-STARVED (callum please card your fingers through her hair and tell her she's enough thank you) 2) immediate nightmare comfort (callum wakes up with tears in his eyes and rayla holds him until the sobs die down) 3) waking up next to each other is the best thing ever (morning cuddles THEY'RE SO SWEET)

BRO I THINK THEY SHOULD AMPLIFY rayla's incredible sense of humor in s4 because she genuinely had some of the best lines in the show. callum loves that about her. runaan and ethari made lots of stupid dad jokes/puns growing up, so rayla has definitely picked up on them-- she thinks of puns out of the blue on random occasions, but never says them. BUT ONE TIME BUT ONE TIME rayla let one slip and callum let out the most squawking screeching wheezing laugh because they were on the same wavelength. CASE IN POINT THEIR SENSE OF HUMOR IS THE SAME AND THEY NOW MAKE JOKES THAT ARE SO NOT FUNNY THAT THEY'RE HYSTERICAL SJCHBJSHC,,,

"big feelings time" is their code word for "hey i need to talk about something" and they offer emotional support to each other your honrro

callum struggles with insomnia + rayla surprisingly loves sleeping in and staying up late, so they have late-night conversations and make forts together AJHJCSBHHA

THEY WOULD DEF PROPOSE AT THE SAME TIME I SWEAR

before they got together, ezran was the butt of hearing both sides of the convo. when callum would leave, rayla would launch into a 10 minute monologue to ez about how insufferable she thought callum was (s1 era) and ezran would be like "WOW you got some big feelings my elven friend!" AnD THEN CALLUM would draw her over and over again and sometimes he'd just flush slightly and ezran would be like "damn he got some big feelings too huh" EZRAN HAS SEEN BOTH SIDES

they never ever left their honeymoon phase. but they don't define love as giddy or excited or bubbly, to them love is shown through actions and guidance and all that jazz YOUF EEL ME

OKAY THIS WAS QUITE LENGTHY BUT THANK YOU FOR letting me rant about my fav THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME AUCSKCSH :sobs violently: i hope you're doing well!! make sure to take care of yourself and drink lots of water + get enough rest !! :D<33

Oh my goodness, that first one reminds me so much of Katniss and Peeta in the Hunger Games. They definitely fall asleep talking to each on a regular basis.

And YES please let them keep Rayla funny… it’s so rare to have a female protagonist who’s as hilarious and dorky as her. They’re both so dumb and constantly make each other laugh.

[mxrvelouss]

ok so this is my silly little idea for if the reveal happened earlier in the show, like before all the love webs happened lol. i really wanna make this into a comic but my motivation is so weird sometimes- i was trying to before this but now it feels hard- so im just gonna write it for now!

The Reveal (Miraculous AU)

It's night time in Paris, and Ladybug is sitting by herself on a rooftop. She hugs her knees up to her chest. She hears Chat land next to her and gives him a small smile.

"Hey, M'Lady," Chat says, smiling down at Ladybug.

"Hey, Kitty," Ladybug quietly replies as he sits down beside her. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Nope," he says. "I'm assuming you couldn't, either?"

Ladybug shakes her head and looks down, tears starting to fill her eyes. Chat looks at her with concern, wanting nothing more than to embrace her and take away whatever was causing her pain. But she needed her space.

"You know you can tell me anything," he gently says as he sets his hand on her shoulder. "I'll always be here for you, okay?"

Ladybug turns to look at him. He was so kind, so gentle. Always there for her when she needed him. And yet here she was, sulking because she had made a fool out of herself in front of Adrien Agreste once again earlier that day.

But she couldn't just stop loving him, and therefore she could not love Chat Noir.

She felt waves of sadness and flames of anger rise up in her. And suddenly, the feelings that she had always wanted to tell Chat but never did because of fear just started to tumble out. "I'm so sorry for always pushing you away, Chat..." Tears spill out of her eyes, and Chat stares at her with great concern and intensity. "It's just...it's just..." The anger starts to take over, and she suddenly stands up.

"It's just that I act SO STUPID in front of the boy I love every. Single. Day!! He's so sweet to me, and I know that life gets hard for him sometimes and yet he never fails to be kind and perfect to EVERYONE. And I just wanna tell him how much him and his kindness means to me..." she stops mid-sentence, looking down at her superhero partner. He was staring at her, clinging on to every word she said as if it was his lifeline. The sadness washes over Ladybug's anger, and she gently sits back down next to Chat Noir. Looking down, she quietly says, "And...and I want YOU to know how much you mean to me, too, Chat. I'm sorry I don't show my affection back. Because you really do mean everything to me, and I wouldn't be able to do ANY of this without you. It's just...the boy in my personal life...I love him so much. And I can't just STOP those feelings."

Chat was so grateful that Ladybug was finally opening up to him- and that he meant so much to her. I mean, deep down, he knew that, but...it was just nice to hear. And he was determined to help her with whatever she wanted to tell this boy. Taking a deep breath, he says, "Well, you were able to just tell ME your feelings- or should I say, FELINES-"

"Chat," Ladybug interrupts him, giving him a look. But she was smiling. She may not enjoy his puns all the time, but Chat knew that this time it would make her smile.

"Okay, okay," Chat laughs. "My point is, you were able to tell me the way you feel, so that means you are FULLY capable of telling this boy whatever it is you wanna tell him."

Ladybug slowly nods. "I guess that's true..."

"So," Chat says. "What is it you wanna tell him? Just...go ahead and say it. Say whatever's on your mind." He gives her a reassuring smile. "You can do it."

Ladybug smiles at him, and takes a deep breath. Confidence was replacing the anger and sadness in her- a little too much, in fact. Because this is what she blurts out. "I would say, 'Adrien Agreste, thank you for always being so kind and I hope-'" Her eyes widen, and she slaps her mouth shut.

Chat Noir stares at her, a jumble of thoughts swimming through his head. "Did she just say my name?! Does she know my identity? Or..." A smile took over his face as he realized.

Ladybug stands up, nervously backing up and rambling. "Whoa, did I just say, 'Adrien Agreste'?! That's so funny, because what I actually meant was, uh, Damien Shameste! Yeah! Who's Adrien Agreste? Never heard of him!"

Chat was up now, walking towards her with a grin on his face. "Marinette," he says gently.

"What? W-who's Marinette?! Never heard of her, either! Anyways, I gotta go now, so, uh, catch you later, Kitty-" Just as Ladybug was about to take off the roof with her yo-yo, she stumbles backwards, slipping off the ledge. With a quick, confident swoop, Chat Noir reaches out and grabs her arm. As he holfd her in place, looking down into her wide, anxious eyes, he whispers, "Claws in."

Ladybug stares at the beautiful, familiar face who saved her from falling. She stared as he gently lifts her back up onto the rooftop. "A-Adrien? How...what..?" And suddenly, relief floods over her face, then tears of joy along with a smile so wide her cheeks hurt. "Spots off," she whispers.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste stare at each other's eyes, illuminated by moonlight. Plagg and Tikki watch from the side, their smiles also taking up the width of their faces.

And then, laughter, followed by the most genuine, heartfelt kiss one could ever wish for. Smiling against his lips, Marinette speaks. "How did we not see it before...?!"

"I don't know," Adrien laughs. "But we see it now, and that's what matters. Marinette, I told myself you were just a close friend because of my love for Ladybug...but I knew my feelings were more than that." He glances over at his Kwami, smiling. "Plagg knew it, too."

Tikki chimes in. "And Marinette knew of the affection she felt for Chat Noir..."

"But I pushed it aside because of my love for Adrien," Marinette finishes, smiling at Tikki. She looks back at her soulmate, whose grin was wider than what was probably possible. Embracing her arms around his neck, she whispers, "Oh, my kitty..."

"My ladybug," Adrien whispers back as they kiss again.

When they finally pull away, Marinette giggles. "So...now what?"

Adrien smiles. "No one has to know. It'll be our little secret. At school, we're just Marinette and Adrien. And at night..."

"We're Ladybug and Chat Noir!" Marinette exclaims.

"And together, we'll defeat Hawk Moth. And after that..." Adrien blushes. He touches his forehead to Marinette's and closes his eyes. "I'll be forever yours, m'lady."

THE END

*Bonus Scene*

Chat Noir drops Ladybug off on her balcony, and they turn to each other. "I'm so glad that this happened now. Imagine if we went YEARS without knowing our true identities! That would just be..."

"Horrible," Ladybug finishes. "If we were in a movie or something and that happened, I'd turn it off!"

With one last laugh and a kiss, Ladybug de-transforms. "Goodnight, my prince," she whispers. "I love you."

[just2bubbly]

Happy Fussings!

Masterlist

Summary: Cinder getting anxious over meeting Torin and his family over a lunch date, Kai being the unhelping but cute partner like always.

Ship: Kaider

Words: 1k

Genre: Fluff (mostly?)

A/N: Suho is an OC, here Torin's husband.

Cinder's Perspective:

"I can see the worry lines on your face," he jested.

"Cause I'm tremendously worried," she replied, no attempt to hide her said worry lines.

"Chill-," he muttered and before he could continue, she had turned around in her seat and glared at him promptly asking him to shut up which he effectively did.

"You have seen him so many times and not to mention you know Torin. I don't even know what you are worried about," he pointed out.

"Easy for you to say, I don't want them to hate me."

"Cinder, c'mon you are worried over a possibility that is as impossible as you being a queen again."

"I don't want to talk to you," she fumed and launched herself into the pile at her desk. Her willpower didn't maintain the charade for a long time as she voiced herself again.

"It feels like I'm meeting your parents and I have multiple expectations to fulfil," she explained.

"Cinder you met them multiple times."

"But never as your fiancee and never on a lunch date invitation."

"I don't see how it changes anything."

"Imagine you had to see my mum and seek her approval for marriage."

"I think the comparison of Torin's family to your mother is a little cruel, Cin. No offence but I think Torin will take offence there."

"Kai," she chided "I'm saying imagine."

"Well, my creative mind says that I would be more scared for my life rather than seeking a good rating from your mother."

Her mother, Queen Channary wasn't a just ruler nor was she much benevolent in person, Cinder had to admit comparing her mother to Torin was an inept scale.

"Still, you would be nervous about meeting my mother and I'm nervous about meeting your family too."

"Cinder, you're hyperventilating. It's better if you calm down, crack puns that make only Lili laugh, laugh at all of Torin's stories and speak nice about the food that's cooked and you shall get good acceptance."

"Not funny Kai."

"You don't even take criticism. All my advice is wasted on deaf ear," he grinned, mockingly shedding tears of irony.

She thought to herself for a while, scrolling through her feed to apprehend how she could be a polite guest. Honestly, she was extremely worried. She had Torin and Suho to impress, their daughters were already impressed by her so that was one point. Torin was still hostile towards her when she spoke against Kai's ideas but he had grown on her.

The real deal however was Suho- he adored Kai and Kai looked up to him far more than Torin in comparison. She couldn't deny how Kai had practically been raised in their household only to stop spending so much time when his lessons increased after his mother's death. She couldn't overstep their made-up family by just bombarding on their peace.

"Shall we buy them something?" she asked.

"That is a fine idea but keep it minimalistic. Suho doesn't like grand gestures of wealth and Torin doesn't like what Suho doesn't like."

There he goes making her feel like the outsider she thinks she is.

"Just flowers?"

"You could do better Cinder, we are the royalty."

"You said no wealth."

"But some wealth is okay."

"Says the Emperor who owns the state treasury."

"It's the state's treasury"

"You said minimalistic."

"I didn't say flowers either."

"Flowers are minimalistic."

"I mean not that minimalistic."

"Then you tell me what we should gift?"

"Maybe a painting," he suggested.

"Who is being minimalistic right now?"

"A painting isn't expensive," he said in his defence.

"Says the Emperor."

"We will buy an inexpensive one then."

"But it shouldn't look like we bought gifts 'cause we had to."

"Holograph photobook?"

"I think it is too elaborate. You could do that the next time you visit."

"What if there's no next time since they don't like me enough the first time?"

"Well you are going to be there, you are going to be wife. I refuse to not take my wife everywhere with me."

"You know if cybernetics would fail me right now, I would be blushing."

"Oh, thank you for the appreciation, my lovely fiancee." He said, a cheeky smile hiding the pale hue of pink on his flushed cheeks. She chuckled, Kai was very charming with the least of effort.

"Can't you give me some better insight than Suho Liking minimalistic things?"

"I don't know- I have never gifted him anything and they didn't gift me anything. I was the next in line, there is very little that a crown prince might not have and be gifted," He mentioned with little cheer in his voice, a gloom rather evident.

She might have consoled him but some things were better undiscussed than talked over with impending concern.

She understood his lack of gifting- Cinder herself was too poor to gift someone and too worthless to be gifted anything, Kai on the other hand was very rich to be gifted anything he couldn't have.

"Still, I want him to like me like he adores you."

"He doesn't adore me", he retorted laughing.

"He does and you absolutely love it."

"Well what can I say, everyone loves a decent fellow!"

"Oh, decent fellow would you enlighten us about all the magic you cast on your loved ones?"

"You should tell me the answer for that one darling."

Kai really might make her blush someday if machines could malfunction.

The knock on the door saved her from answering something witty enough.

"Your Majesty-"

"No need for formalities, Torin. No one here but for Cinder." He reminded Torin for the umpteenth time.

Before she could think over the idea she blurted, "I'd some favours from you, Torin. Before you announce the work you have brought, can I just ask a few questions?"

Kai eyed her sidewards, while Torin did little to hide his surprise.

"Yes Cinder-Daren, you may."

Kai shook his head, knowing exactly what she was about to do, "Take a seat, Torin, something tells me this might be a long afternoon and hand over the file, Id make the changes while you two go on."

__

A/N: All done for today, quite short but had it in my drafts for years now. Also not me trying to bring Torin in every fic I write ;)

Besides finally writing my something outside of angst, so leave some kudos!

Tagging: @cinderswrench @gingerale2017 @shellyseashell @kaider-is-my-otp @linhcinder686 @kaiderforever  @slmkaider @salt-warrior @cindersassasin @impossiblesuitcase @deprivedmusicaljunkie @cosmicnovaflare @ikosburneraccount @mirrorballsss @fangirlforever0704

[pluviophile-bookworm]

HSMTMTS season 4 reflections: I have been changed for good

It's been an incredibly wild ride and I was overflowing with emotions even before watching the final season, but now... the emotions are even stronger. I've let them settle down a bit and I think I'm ready now to share a list of my favourite and least favourite things about this season (both lists in a completely random order, though more or less chronological, if anything).

My favourite things:

‘It’s a good thing the cameras won’t be in our faces back at school. Right?’ This has the exact same energy as ‘Nothing will shake these ivy walls’ in School of Rock, and I love it for that. I'm all about the dramatic irony.

Alyson Reed as Ms Darbus looks just like a much older version of Ashlyn as her in season 1. What I’m saying is, the casting choice of Ash as Ms Darbus was on point.

I learnt the hard way back in season 2 not to get too invested in any core four relationships, but Ricky and Gina… they’re kinda it. I mean, just look at them, they’re so cute. Also, I've come to realise that, as an aroace autistic person who loves shipping, I mostly tend to ship canon couples only, except for when I don't perceive them as having chemistry. Conversely, I will sometimes ship non-canon couples if I perceive them as having chemistry. This will be important a bit later.

Rina's duet with the montage of season 1 references. That was so beautiful. And don't get me started on their Can I Have This Dance... Miss Jenn was trying to get through the table read quickly through all the chaos and wanted to skip over the songs, but Gina was just like 'no, I'm not doing that'. And we love her for it.

Ricky’s ‘You can tell it’s a joke because I laughed’… so me-core. Love it.

I found the bit about Troy and Gabriella being in couple's therapy so funny... I wonder, is that anything like Therapy from Tick Tick Boom?

Now or Never, the audition version (and the show version, too, but especially this one). That was the definition of Slay.

As a newly dog-favourable person, I would agree with Ricky — puppies are everyone’s kryptonite. In one way or another… I mean, can you believe that up until this last April, I would just literally go out of my way to avoid crossing paths with any dog of any kind, and then I put it into my head that I wanted that to stop, and now I’m this close to actually becoming a dog person? All this to say… I really appreciate those puppies. Everything really is better with puppies.

Ricky's background character in the film was giving Thayne Jasperson in Stick to the Status Quo. I enjoyed that.

Ashlyn's iconic 'I'm dying, I'm deceased, yes' is back again, and once again it comes in connection to Ms Darbus. We love to see the parallels.

Nightmares Come to Life is such a good song, though. Hallowe’en-y, creative, but also reflective of the characters’ very real fears and anxieties. Might be my favourite. Or it might not -- remains to be seen.

Why are all of Ashlyn’s songs the best in the show? Idk, but I might be warming up to Madlyn after this. Call It What You Want is quite something and their chemistry is off the charts.

Redlyn have always been so in sync, they even broke up with so much love and respect and amicability... I've heard the phrase 'We can still be friends' so many times, but they're one of the few ex-couples where I actually fully believe it.

EJ and Ricky’s duet is everything, and they’re finally, finally letting Matt sing… took them long enough.

Big Red in the last couple of episodes -- I literally teared up instantly even upon his first appearance, and with the exception of the extremely stupid and unnecessary cheating storyline, I just enjoyed seeing him one last time and especially getting to say a proper, less embittered goodbye at the end.

Carlos' recap in 4x6 goes hard. Pun absolutely intended. As were all of his go puns in it.

4x6 is the most Glee this show has ever been, even if we take season 1 into account. This is basically the '2009' episode of HSMTMTS, and my favourite of this season until the final one.

Seblos being back and making me believe in love again. I think the world healed a little after that duet. Though I've got to wonder... if it was meant for Ryan and his partner in the film... what is the script making those two go through to warrant such a song? I'm just curious, is all.

Dreams Don't Die, and Emmy's energy throughout the entirety of this season. It's been a sight to behold for certain.

Miss Jenn sending out Ricky's college application behind his back (Troy and Ms Darbus much?) and Mr Mazzara, Benny if you will, vouching for him. The world has truly turned upside down.

EJ and Big Red and Seb showing up for opening night (and Ricky carrying on Nini's opening night cards tradition), the way the gods intended. Big Red expecting to be 'screaming, crying, throwing up' (huh, a bit like on BATB opening night in season 2, innit?), and EJ just vibing to the entire first act, while Seb sings along like his life depends on it.

Carlos and Kourtney being magnificently fabulous as Ryan and Sharpay. Also, Seb just walking out there amid the number and planting one on Carlos with no warning. I sort of got Nick Nelson on sports day in season 1 of Heartstopper vibes from this. 'This means we're a thing'... we love it.

EJ’s scene with Miss Jenn… when did he become so wise? I was going to ask that about his scene with Ricky in 4x5, but this, this is something else. This is an adult conversation he’s having. It was even officially labelled as such. I just… I love this boy, this young man, I really wish him all the best. I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me this during season 1, but I shall miss Elton John Caswell.

'Antoine' not really being French was absolutely something I'd called all the way back in 2x7, but back then I certainly couldn't have called him being interested in Big Red, and not in a million years Big Red being interested in 'Napoleon over here', as he once referred to him. Then again, back before I watched this season, I'd never considered the thought of Redlyn not being endgame, so there's that. But I'm now 1000% here for it. As I mentioned a bit earlier, I ship canon couples if I see chemistry between them. (Also, it took me longer than it should have, but... Andy? Like Andrew? They literally didn't bother giving the character a name.)

The last ten or so minutes of it all, with Denny's and Born to be Brave and For Good at the end... now that was a sendoff such as this show deserved.

My least favourite things (some of them I find mildly irritating, others I'm actually enraged by; I hope it comes across which are which):

In the entire first half of the season, feeling like I couldn't even say 'Seblos' anymore bc they felt, for the first time since forever, like such separate entities which didn't seem like they'd be one again. That was painful for a while.

The 'Seb and Big Red cheating on Carlos and Ashlyn together' plotline... like, not only is this sticking an arguably biphobic stereotype on my favourite character, but it also feels extremely out of character for both of them. Another bit which just hurt to watch and to think about.

This is a bit of a gripe with HSM3 itself, but also with the fact that this version did nothing to change that up -- the two genders according to A Night to Remember: excited for prom and dreading prom. Interesting how I've always identified with the latter and to this day regret going to my prom... oh well. This is one of those mildly irritating ones.

The way Emmy pronounced Jean Valjean... I mean, nobody’s perfect. Even Mike Faist says ‘mischievious’. But this was a bit much for me. Still, it was sobering in this emotionally charged moment. I sort of needed something like this to take me out of things for a bit.

So yeah, it's clear to see that I liked more about this season than I disliked. At the end of the day, I walked into this season expecting to feel a bit 'meh' about it and walked out all like 'how can I sleep at night, pretend that I'm fine leaving it all behind'... That's been HSMTMTS, and it's been quite a wild ride. Because I knew you, I have been changed for good, indeed.

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Day 2: Birthday/Surprise

For @moxiety-week

Word Count: 825

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Moxiety 💙💜 implied Logince and Dukeceit

Warnings: mildly suggestive flirting, a generous amount of Pokémon puns

~~~START~~~

Patton told Roman that he shouldn’t be the one to keep Virgil away from his surprise party, he told him that he was no good at keeping secrets and that Virgil would see right through him in two seconds flat, but Roman had insisted. Roman and logan couldn’t do it because they had to set up the party — Roman in charge of the festive stuff and Logan in charge of the logistical stuff; Remus couldn’t do it because he would either tell Virgil about the party without trying to hide it, or skip the party entirely for shits and giggles; Janus couldn’t do it because Virgil would accuse him of trying to kidnap him as soon as Janus tried to get him to go to the party; Remy couldn’t do it because he would get Virgil too jacked up on caffeine; and Emile couldn’t do it because he wouldn’t get off work until right before the party. 

Besides, Patton was Virgil’s boyfriend, it would look weird if Patton was avoiding him on his birthday. 

So far keeping Virgil out of their apartment was going pretty smoothly, he’d put up a little bit of a fuss when Patton had begged to go to the mall, but he’d given in once he was assured that they’d go to Hot Topic. Normally, Patton would just follow Virgil around the store and let him look at things at his leisure, but today he pointed out every little thing he saw in the hopes of keeping them in the store longer. 

“Oh! Look at this!” Patton said, grabbing a Poké ball necklace off the wall and showing it to Virgil. He pressed a small button and the Poké ball snapped open, revealing a small pikachu inside. “It’s a pika-boo!” 

Virgil smirked at the joke. “That was bad, Pat.” 

“You’re right, I should have just kept my meowth shut!” 

That elicited a snort. 

“Are you a-mew-sed?” Patton grinned. “Did my pun tickle your cubone?” 

“Call me cubone cuz I want to c u bone,” Virgil whispered just loud enough for Patton to hear him. 

Patton was struck dumb by the pun as he felt his face heat up. 

Flirting? With puns? As if he couldn’t love Virgil more. 

Virgil, shifting uncomfortably in the ever-expanding silence, opened his mouth to apologize, but Patton cut him off. 

“Are you a ninetales? Because you’re hot and foxy.” 

Both of them lost it at that, giggling up a storm in the middle of the Hot Topic. 

“Pat, why?” Virgil wheezed, tears streaming down his face. 

“Wynaut?” Patton giggled, setting Virgil off again. 

It was a while before they left the Hot Topic. 

“What should we do now?” Patton asked once they were back in the busy walkway of the mall. He had a few more hours before the others would be ready for him to bring Virgil back, he would have to fill the time doing more birthday activities with Virgil. 

“I kinda just want to go home,” Virgil shrugged. “Maybe cuddle for a few hours.” 

Literally any other time, Patton would love nothing more than to cuddle with Virgil in their home, but today he had a job to do. 

“We’re already out,” he insisted. “We should do things!” 

“Like?” Virgil asked expectantly, the faintest traces of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. 

“Like… like… get lunch! We should get lunch! At that Thai place you like!” 

“We could just get takeout,” Virgil pointed out. “Eat it at home in front of the tv.” 

“But then it’s not special!” Patton pouted, hoping that would be enough to convince his boyfriend to stay out a while longer. 

“Well, what if,” Virgil started, a smirk that Patton did not trust creeping across his face. “What if we get takeout and go to Ro and Lo’s? We haven’t hung out all four of us in weeks!” 

“Well, um…” Patton floundered. “They’re– uh, they’re busy today.” 

“They are?” 

“Y-yeah, Logan has that thing today. That, uh, engineering thing.” 

“Oh, right,” Virgil laughed. “‘That engineering thing’. Maybe we should see what Remus and Janus are doing then.” 

Patton opened his mouth to stutter through another excuse when he noticed the twinkle in Virgil’s eyes. 

“You’re messing with me!” He accused, pouting. 

“Maybe a little bit,” Virgil chuckled. “I couldn’t help it, you’re cute when you’re trying to be sneaky.” 

Patton pouted even more. “I thought I was doing a good job at distracting you.” 

“You were,” Virgil assured him, kissing his pout away. “But I saw the texts on Princey’s phone when I was over there last weekend. Don’t worry, I’ll still act surprised when we get to the party.” 

“You promise it wasn’t me who gave it away?” 

“I promise. Now, if I'm not mistaken, someone promised me Thai food, and I’m guessing we’ve got a few more hours to fill.” 

“Anything for the birthday boy!” Patton grinned, dragging Virgil out towards the Thai place. 

~~~END~~~

General taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling