#listen okay my head is filled with scenes like these and I have nowhere to PUT THEM

[captainmera]

Hey Mera I wanted to ask a question about IBWR. Don't know if you've answered this before but what helped inspired the designs for theo and oliver? Like the clothes they wear and their actual physical looks

*gasp!* Thank you for asking!

So a lot of thought actually went into these two goobers hahaha! But mostly, it has been about duality/opposites.

BODY TYPES:

Theodore: He's wealthy and doesn't have to walk far distances. He also enjoys the typical upper-class foods that were popular at the time. Which were rich in carb and protein. So he's chubby! :)

Not only does this softness reflect his wealth and comfortable lifestyle, it also reflects that he, as a person, is soft.

He may dress smartly and use fashion to present himself as both sleeker and fitter than he is. His personality is a pretence hyper masculinity (like his suits) to cover up how gentile and somewhat flamboyant he actually is.

Side note: I am actually rather bad at drawing chub without it looking like stiff muscle mass. I'm still working on that.

Theodore likes how he looks, he is confident and carries himself like a born gentleman with something to prove. Chest out and chin high.

His curly blonde hair and green eyes and Cheshire grin are all family traits of the Ashdown family. It makes them look more like witches, with curly flirtish hair, deep mystic eyes and smiles that lie the way you'll like it. Witches are hard to resist, but nobody likes them. They bask in sin, and who doesn't want to be tempted now and then?

Oliver: He's poor, he doesn't eat very well, he's active and practically runs everywhere. He's skinny to a fault, he exerts more energy than he consumes. This is not healthy. He works out, he climbs buildings and gets into trouble and he knows how to fight (cus he had to). He is fit. Now, he may look chiseled like an adonis statue, but this is not strength. He is just low on body fat. He is tired a lot for a reason.

He is muscular looking, but his strengths are in being able to outlast and run. He can fight, sure, but he prefers to just run.

His blue eyes... It's almost like he can see things that aren't there.. Blue like the past, blue like the veil. There are many cultures all over the world who associate blue eyes with the supernatural or something evil. If you want to know more about it I would direct you to look up the blue evil eye and superstitions about blue eyes. :)

His dark pointy hair is in stark contrast with Theodore's curly blonde.

Unlike Theodore, who unbashfully enjoys himself, Oliver cares very little about himself and can't really see what others see. It even makes him a bit nervous to talk about his looks due to a previous toxic relationship as well as some.. awful things. He has to be drunk to be physical.

FASHION:

and that's just pinterest---

listen okay I could be here all day.

But the gist of it is this:

Theodore: Rich bitch strut your stuff you bisexual idiot. He likes details and fashion and embroidery. He likes to sew and he likes to tailor his own things. Sewing is considered feminine if it's not your profession, especially if you're upper class. But Theodore, despite himself, sews and edits and wears what he's made. So any compliment he gets on his fit, or insult, he takes very personally. The guy has an ego that is just as much a mask as it is a genuine source of confidence. What he wears is an extension of himself, he wants to be free and fashion helps him express himself, both openly and in secret ways. He dress in codes. But every coat and jacket he has, has an inline pocket for his wand to carry around. Perfumes, rings, brooches, a cane, silken hats and beaver hats, gloves of every sort and-- look he got style and he's in with it.

Oliver: Good god baby please wear something else. He wears things he's bought second hand, his jacket is from 1872s (it's 1885 in the story), he rotates between five shirts and like.. three vests. One vest being sundays best. Basically, everything he owns is old or doesn't fit him. He rarely spends money on himself and he's oblivious (and too depressed) to know or care about his looks. The guy has no confidence and his opinion of himself is reflected on what he wears. Oliver's idea of dressing up a bit is to tie a nicer scarf around himself into a tie rather than the flimsy blue knot he does. Oliver always carry a small book and something to draw with. When he's out about in London he likes to perch upon things, or squat where he wont be bothered, and draw. He also stuff his inner pocket with dry lavender from work to mask the smell of dead from work. Unwittingly to him, it also helps keeping spirits from noticing him.

Now, wouldn't it be lovely if Theodore got to dress Oliver up. :) Y'know, just to give Oliver a glimpse of how he sees him.

it would prooooobably go something like this:

"Oh, no, no." Said Theodore and let his hand flutter about. "That's not what style is. That's just fashion. Now, STYLE, my dear..." He grinned and circled Oliver in the way that made Oliver anticipate a tickle. And there it was, the poke. "Style is something you carry in you. You got style, but you have no sense of fashion. I will bring you the fashion, and I promise you will see what I mean." "I doubt it." Oliver smiled faintly. "But if it will humour you." "Oh, you have no idea." So Oliver let him. It wasn't what he thought it would be; Theodore didn't throw things at him. He asked him to touch the materials of each garment in his wardrobe. Asked what colours he liked. He held up some ties next to his face to compare the shade with his tone, his eyes and hair. Some were discarded right away and others made Theodore delightfully ooh and aah. Oliver would be lying if he wasn't having a little bit fun. Theodore pinned in the waist of the trousers, no suspenders or buckles. "it will just wrinkle it." Theodore muttered. "There shan't be any wrinkles or creases on my watch. And, oh, your hair. Let me just- just a little." "Alright." Oliver chuckled and sat down to let Theodore do what he liked. Oliver, finally, stood dressed and looked down at himself. Everything fit him and the shoes were shiny, but he still couldn't see what Theodore meant. "I don't see it." "Well, you're not looking yet." Theodore brought to the mirror. And Oliver saw himself. He had to blink a few times, he didn't recognise himself. And as if his very soul slapped him in the back, Oliver stretched himself up proper, tilted his head and brushed a hand over his chest. "Do I.. Really look like that? You didn't put a hex or something on the mirror or..?" "No hex, just you. And yes, you really do look like that.. All the time in my eyes." And Oliver's lips twisted into a shy smile. "You jest." "Not about style." Theodore nudged. "Style is serious business." And grinned his iconic mischief smile.

#ibwr #in blood we rise #*SIGHS AT MY BOYS* #GOOOODDSS YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I THINK ABOUT THEM ALL THE TIME #Wrote a lil.. blurb at the bottom because... #listen okay my head is filled with scenes like these and I have nowhere to PUT THEM #*cries and punches a wall* I love my lads so much.

[hecateslore]

hey! so bad bunny has a song called perro negro idk if you ever heard it but there’s a line in that music that says “tu tiene cara que tiene la pussy linda” and i was wondering if you could write yk a little something with Simon and a fem reader who just started dating and their relationship is still in the early stages and they haven’t gotten in bed together yet and the reader is pretty shy but not the uwu shy the type of shy that laughs and gets shocked when she’s embarrassed and one day simon jokingly and lightly flirts with her and she gets a struck of courage out of nowhere and flirts with him back but in a more sexual way? and simon gets surprised and uses that or a variation of that line from perro negro with her and in results in a hot smut scene please 🙏🏻

(also i loved loved loved the two office fics you wrote with simon they’re 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻 can’t wait for more ❤️)

I did the best I could, but im suppeeer obsessed with the song FINA off his new album. I hope you enjoy lolz. ♥️♥️

Also I wrote this with Supervisor!Simon on my mind, cause y'all know how much I love how awkward reader is in this au lmao.

MDNI | afab reader

You and Simon decided to have a date night in, drinking wine and listening to the soft jazz playlist for the background.  You’d both got off work around the same time, you both got the  closing shift and decided to make dinner at your place. 

It's  also the first time Simon has seen the inside of your place, it’s small for him, but the perfect size for you. Almost every room decorated, a touch of you in every piece of furniture. You stood in the kitchen, pulling out the two aluminum tins filled with tonight's dinner out of the oven. “These’ll pair well with the red, no?” Simon nods, watching your frame move around the kitchen, earlier you denied his help and told him to shush and sit. So he did. 

“I like it here.” Simon looked around your apartment once again, “Very you.” he teased. 

“What does that mean?” you pretend to look shocked as you hand him two glass plates. “It’s like you all around me.” Simon chuckles.  “You’d want me all around you.” you snort, “Oh wait-” 

Simon's eyes widened at the sleazy joke. Your hand immediately flies to your mouth in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean-” Simon waves you off, “It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind checking if it's as pretty down there as it is up here.” He sends you a wink as he fixes both of your plates, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. 

The next forty five minutes was the two of you flirting back and forth at the dinner table, saying very lewd jokes to each other, Simon making you extremely giddy- his deep brown eyes watching you intently as you went on and on about how a certain coworker. 

You both then moved to the living Area, “No shoes on the carpet” You reach your arm across his frame blocking him from entering your lounging quarters. He begrudgingly took each shoe off, “My clothes next?” that earned a little “simon!” from you. 

The two of you plop on the couch, Simon slouching while man-spreading and you right next to him, “you’re lucky I didn’t tell you to bring a change of clothes.” he turns his head to you, “why?” “outside clothes on the couch. I’d never let anyone do this, you’re the exception.” you say. 

“I could just take them off?” he smirks, “Simon don’t be gross.” you let out a hearty laugh,swatting playfully at Simon's arm. "No funny business on my couch," you warn him with a mock stern expression. Simon raises his hands in surrender, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Alright, alright, I promise to behave," he teases, leaning back against the cushions. 

“You’re a sweet girl, you know that?” He raises his large hand to caress your cheek,“I’d like to believe so.” you turn your head to kiss his palm softly, savoring the tenderness of the moment. you lean in to peck his cheek,Lost in your thoughts, you absentmindedly trace circles on Simon's chest with your fingertips. He shifts slightly, his eyes gazing into yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Do you want to see what the inside of my room looks like?" you ask softly as you continue to trace circles on Simon's chest. He raises an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Are you inviting me to your room?" he teases. 

You whisper to him, "I think you should follow me!", you make a fake shocked expression that makes Simon let out a cackle "Lead the way," he whispers back, getting up, you make way into your bedroom, going down the very short hallway that leads to your room, Simon's hand on your lower back.

You push open your door, refraining from jumping him the second he passes the threshold, you go to sit on your bed and Simon admires your room for a quick second,"Did you mean what you said in the kitchen?" you question, he looked confused, "about seeing me," you motion past your waist "down there.""Yes," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I've been holding out until you felt ready, I wouldn't want to ruin this for you"Simon takes a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "But only if you're comfortable," he adds, his voice soft.

"I'm comfortable, are you comfortable?" you look into his deep brown eyes

"I am," he replies, Simon takes another step towards you, bending down so now he's kneeling between your legs, your lips brush against his, a small smile on his lips before he closes his eyes and allows himself to be lost in the softness of your kiss. It's deep and it intensifies, each movement filled with desperation. Without breaking the kiss, Simon's hands slide up your body, groping your breasts and tugging at your blouse, you let out soft moans opposed to Simon's growls and groans.

Simon breaks the kiss,"Go lay on your back" his accent thicker than usual. He starts pulling his shirt off-You obediently peel off your blouse and lie down on your bed, Simon quickly discards his clothes and joins you, "These pants have to go." he pulls your work slacks down with an unnatural ease, leaving you only in your panties and bra, Simon in his boxers. He kisses you again then trails down your body, wet kisses in between the valley of your bust.

His fingers plunge into the cup of your bra, and he pulls you up and out of it, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He kisses you again, his tongue flickering across your lips. You moan softly, savoring the sensation of his touch against your skin.

Simon's hands slide down over your panties, and he tugs them off, leaving you naked. His two large hands rub up and down your inner thighs, causing you to spread your legs wide open for a better view, "Even prettier than I thought." he says as his lips inch closer to your core, you tense up slightly, biting your lip in anticipation.”You're a very dirty man-" your cut off as he leans in and presses his lips against your core, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. You let out a loud whimper as his tongue glides against your folds, tasting your wetness for the very first time.

"Oh, God," you moan, thrusting your hips upward. Simon's hands grip your thighs, He pulls back form between your legs, "I need to be inside you.'' He rids himself of his boxers and you can't help but to stare at the man before you, Simon is big. His cheeks and ears red from the adrenaline, he looked so handsome, your hand immediately goes in between you thighs, you rub yourself "Fuck me, Simon. Please," you plead, Simon swats your hand away and guides his thick cock head into your very wet and swollen pussy, pushing in slowly until you're both gasping for breath. His eyes locked onto yours, He starts thrusting, his hips moving in and out, filling you up with every stroke. He grabs your face while he moves in and out of you teasingly slowly, "Look a' me" you whine at his movements. He leans down to kiss you, his tongue intertwining with yours as he continues to thrust into you. You meet his movements with your own, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling him deeper inside you.

"I'm gonna cum Simon," You whimper out as he drills into you harder and faster, "I want to feel you come around me." Simon fixed his gaze on yours and increased his pace, his hips slamming into you with each powerful thrust. "I told you I wanted you all around me didn't I?" Simon growled, his voice low and sensual. "Oh my god i'm gonna cum," you gasp out. His eyes darkened with lust as he felt your walls beginning to tighten around him. "Don't cum in me." you manage to moan out.His movements slow down, but the intensity of them only grows. you can feel his warm breath against your ear, and his voice is low and ragged when he says, "I won't, baby. I promise."

his palms press down on my thighs, spreading my legs even wide, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming" Simon moans in reply, his hips bucking, "Oh fuck!" he yells as he pulls out and  strokes himself. You watch, breathless and aroused as he speeds up his pace, his muscles tensing, He  then lets out a loud groan as he releases his cum all over your sloppy cunt. Simon collapses onto you, panting heavily, his heartbeat pounding against your chest. You can feel his hot breath on your neck, and the sticky warmth of his release between your legs.

You both lay in silence for a second, before Simon lifts himself off of you. “Well that was fun" you breathe, he chuckles and kisses your forehead, "It sure was. who knew you could be so vulgar?" You swat his arm,

"Simon!"

#lunden’s response ❀— #supervisor!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost smut #ghost smut #smut #cod smut #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley cod #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost fanfiction #ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #cod 141 #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #task force 141

[aquilapolariz]

never made, never broken (portgas d. ace x reader)

Summary: In the kindest way possible, Ace fails to make a promise- and you don’t even realize it until it’s too late.

Notes/ Warnings: spoilers for events that lead up to Marineford, there's some light angst, follows canon; i originally wrote this to be a part of a series that featured law x diplomat! reader x ace, but i quickly realized i can't commit to multi-chapter works ;((

Word Count: 1.4k | Read below the cut or on Ao3

You looked in horror at the scene in front of you. Thatch’s blood spilled in the dead of night and Blackbeard nowhere to be found.

You turned to your left, Ace standing next to you, his teeth clenching in anger. He’s the one who guided you to Thatch’s quarters at your request, after you heard the awakening chaos of the aftermath.

“Ace, what are you thinking of doing?” You asked, afraid.

“(Y/N), you already know the answer to that question. And you know why I’m about to do it. You can’t talk me out of it.”

“We both know that I actually can talk you out of it-“

“That’s why I’m tryyyying to drown you out as much as I can, but that’s really difficult because it’s YOU!”

“Ace, Thatch wouldn’t want this. Teech has a very dangerous fruit-“

“We can’t know for sure what Thatch would have wanted. And that’s why we have to strike back now- Teech can’t be an expert in this fruit yet, he’s still gotta be learning.”

You were very clearly shocked by his logic.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he flaunted, “I learned a thing or two from you, (Y/N).”

You didn’t know whether to be angry, proud, upset, but the absurdity of the situation almost made you laugh.

“We don’t know what we’re up against. Who knows how long Teech has been planning this plot of his. There’s too many unknowns.” He didn’t even give you a second glance. “Andddd you’re not even listening to me.”

“IT’S PART OF MY TACTIC!” Ace reasoned walking to his own quarters, ready to pack a bag. You didn’t notice him slip your wanted poster into the outer pocket. After zipping it up and seeing your genuine concern, he paused, collecting his thoughts. “I can’t let myself be stopped by you, I’m sorry.”

He marched up to the deck, filled with many of the crew, all of them reeling from the events of a couple hours ago. The fire burning in Ace’s eyes was blinding. Every crew member was trying to extinguish it, telling him to calm down. Ace was yelling back, “If I don’t do anything about it, Thatch’s spirit can’t rest!”

Whitebeard, hooked up to his IVs said his name. “It’s okay. This is an exception…I have a bad feeling about this.” You, too, had a bad feeling about this. If you weren’t the only one, something was definitely not right.

“He killed his crewmate and ran away. He had been loyal to you for decades and then he threw dirt in your face!” He turned away, moving his hat from behind his neck to the crown of his head. “And above all, he disgraced my father’s name. I can’t allow that.”

The Moby Dick fell eerily silent. You wanted so desperately to stop him, or at least go with him, but you knew that would only hold him back. Your words were your weapons, but they were rendered useless in a fight like this. Not when Blackbeard so brutally killed Thatch, all for a devil fruit. Part of diplomacy is knowing when to stop the talking, and knowing when to take action. You knew this was one of those times. But it had to be carefully thought out action, not whatever impulsive thoughts Ace was thinking. But his determination was as overwhelming as the heat of Alabasta. As much as you believed in Ace and his strength, this seemed too risky.

If Ace wouldn’t listen when you spoke from your head, or if he wouldn’t listen to his crewmates, he would listen if you spoke from your heart, right? “Don’t leave me!” you pleaded, a final act of desperation. “Ace, Thatch just got killed. If something happens to you too, I don’t know what-“

“Hey, come on,” his face softened whenever he looked at you. He was scared this would happen, that his resolve would waver and crumble to ashes if he spared you even a single glance. He pulled you in for a hug, his arms around your waist, causing your arms to be sandwiched between your chest and his. “Trust me, I’ll be back before you know it. Like I said, I wanna live without any regrets. If I don’t go now…I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”

You pulled away from Ace to look at him. Ace’s conviction for this ran deep, the stories he’s told of his birth and past that he trusted you with were coming to mind. Memories of his newfound devotion to Whitebeard as father came flooding in.

“I know. But what if…what if I’m the one who ends up regretting letting you go.”

“How can I ease your worry?” Ace’s voice was gentle, but steadfast and determined.

You leaned in and whispered into his ear as his arm snaked its way around your waist, not wanting anyone else to hear the sacred words of a promise. “Promise me that you’ll come back to me, immediately after you deal with Blackbeard. Right away. And that you won’t pull another stunt like this in the future. That you’ll obey Pops once you step back on this ship.”

“Okay.” Ace could see how serious you were. How your brows creased, and right below those arched eyebrows, your eyes were watering up. Even in distress you were beautiful to him. But he hated seeing you so sad and even more, being the cause of your worry. For you, he would agree. He’d be satisfied after killing Blackbeard. After this he wouldn’t need to do something so drastic ever again.

You held out your pinky, ready for his own to wrap around, sealing a promise. He removed his right arm from your waist and instead of grasping your finger, he grabbed your entire hand and kissed it.

“Ace-?!” Flustered, you pulled your hand back.

He chuckled. It would be a while until he saw you again, so he wanted you to be wearing a smile.

To everyone right now, he was a ball of fiery energy, unstoppable and hot to the touch, but to you, he was just Ace. Always just Ace. So you couldn’t help when you broke into a smile.

“Look at you, going from sad to happy in seconds.” He loves seeing your smile, or rather, he hates seeing you so close to crying.

You rolled your eyes. “Just because I smiled for two seconds doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hopefully I’ll be able to find Teech quickly. I’ll head toward the Red Line.”

“Yeah he couldn’t have gone too far…Alabasta might be a good bet.” The crew was shocked you were letting him go. But it was clear to you, just as it became clear to Whitebeard minutes ago, that nothing in this world could stop Ace.

“What would I do without you?” Ace asked.

“You’d get lost,” you deadpanned.

You just barely heard the mumbles of the crew: “we gotta stop him,” “he’s too far gone..”

“Just be safe, Fire Fist, at least for my sake if not yours.”

“Anything for you, Fire Fly.” Ace sat at the edge of the ship, ready to jump into Striker. “I’ll see you soon. I can’t stay away from you too long even if I tried.” He turned to take a solemn look at the sea ahead. “This is just another mission, don’t worry about me,”

“Kick his ass, Ace. I’ll see you soon.” With a thin smile, you saw him off.

“Will do, (Y/N),” He picked up his bag, filled only with the necessities, “I’ll take care of this!” He yelled to the entire crew as he jumped down to Striker.

The chorus of “wait” and “come back” from the crew didn’t reach your ears. You waved as he let flames consume his back, his devil fruit powers activating Striker, propelling him forward, never looking back. As Ace said, it was just another mission, another everyday task of a pirate. But was it that simple?

Thinking back to the promise you made with Ace just minutes earlier, you realized it was never sealed- Ace never wrapped his pinky around yours.

You watched as Striker approached the horizon, and so did Ace, his Whitebeard tattoo getting smaller and smaller in the distance until it completely disappeared.

You sighed wistfully; a promise never made is a promise that can never be broken.

#portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x y/n #portgas d ace x you #gn reader #one piece #one piece fanfiction #ace one piece #gender neutral reader #iz writes

[busterheadspace]

Okay, since you did so well with my Twin Sense prompt, let's try this one:

Various points in their lives where Mario and Luigi say each others names.

Why? Over time, they've come to realize the way they say it to each other is the equivalent of an "I love you."

"Mario!"

"Luigi!"

Does not matter what you use as an example, once again, just use whatever you think will demonstrate its a thing.

Although I would not object to a scene from when they're babies, to show they were doing it BEFORE they realized what they were doing.

If it helps, think of, "The Fault in Our Stars."

Saying each other’s names is their, "Okay."

first, holy crap, I don’t really have an excuse other for this taking so long (life problems but let’s not get into that)

second, if for the person requested that Mario/Peach or Mario/Bowser request, uh it got deleted when Tumblr updated. I will try to get to it but uh, I got stuff to do.

Third, my ask box will be shut off for a bit since I am very overwhelmed with requests at the moment. And also I probably will not be taking any Mario request anymore unfortunately as I don’t have a hyperfixation in the movie anymore so sorry

anyway, enjoy

—-

It was their birthday and Luigi was nervous. For a four year old, there were a lot of people. Their mother had introduced them to their aunt, uncles, and cousins.  The older ones liked pushing him around and he got scared. He ran off to their bedroom and hid under a blanket. He doesn’t know how long he was under there but he heard the door open

“Luu?” Mario’s voice comes in. Luigi gently took off the blanket and turned around as his brother walked toward him, with his hands behind his back.

“I know mama said we should open our gifts later but me and Papa got you this.” 

Mario revealed the gift, a green race car. Luigi’s eyes lit up and he was handed the car. He looked toward his brother as he asked a question. “Do you like it?”

“Mario!” The boy exclaimed before letting go. He opened the box and took the remote. The two watched as the car raced around their room until their mama came in for cake. They rushed out of the room, Luigi feeling less scared

—-

In a way, it was kinda funny seeing Mario like this. Luigi was in the backseat of the car, Mario leaning on him as he was half awake. Their uncle was driving them back home after Mario had gotten his wisdom teeth taken out. 

“Hey..!” Mario shouts out of nowhere, flapping his hands in his air. He points outside and bounces out of his seat

“Look at that big bird! Look at it fly! Fly! Fly! I wanna fly!” Mario laughs as he tries to make his points. Luigi chuckled as their uncle shook his head.

“He’s really out of it, isn’t he. I remember when I had my wisdom teeth taken out”

Luigi tried to listen to their uncle’s story until he heard the faint sound of crying. He turned to his brother who was sobbing

“What’s wrong bro?!” Luigi asked quickly. Mario quickly sniffed but doesn’t respond. It might be from the drugs. Luigi scooted over and let Mario leaned on him

“It’s okay Mario. We’re safe.” 

Mario stared at him for a few moments before resting his head on his shoulder. “Luigi..” He mumbled before falling asleep with a somewhat of a content smile. 

—-

They were going to quit their job and begin their own business. Although it was more of Mario’s dream. He looked over to his brother as they filled out the paperwork.

“Are you sure you want to join me? It’s my dream. You can stay here.”

Luigi looked up and tilted his head. He knew their dad had always spoken out about Mario leaving Spike. It was a stable job but the brothers couldn’t stand the jabs and  problems that Spike would give them.

“Mario. This is what I want. I want us to work together.” A hand was placed on Mario’s shoulder as Luigi gave Mario a smile

“Luigi.” Mario mumbled, giving him a nod. They would finish the paperwork for their new business before leaving Spike. They both hoped that they could start this business but at least they were doing it together. It made it better.

—-

Brookly was going to need to be repaired. They both knew that after such a harsh battle. But right now, they wanted to rest.

“Mario” The older brother heard his brother and allowed him to sit next to him. It was a relief that he needed so badly. Just to know his brother was okay and alive

Mario moved closer and reached for Luigi’s hand. He looked at him, looking for an okay. The younger brother looked confused but he mumbled “Mario” under his breath and nodded, Mario squeezing his hand.

They sat together, quietly, thinking about the adventure they went through. The terror they felt being ripped apart and never seeing each other again. He heard Luigi repeating his name with a panicked face before nudging him gently.

“Luigi. It’s okay.”

It brought his brother back to his senses although they could sense the uneasiness from everything that occurred. Luigi mutters an apology.

“I just.. I wanted to hear your voice..make sure you’re actually here after everything”

“Really?” Mario looked at him curiously. Luigi sighed as he thought about his time in the cage

“I.. I kept saying your name in hopes that you would come. But., I was scared that would be the last time I would see you.” He looked up at the ceiling as he thinks

“Ever since we were kids..we never really said I love you. You know how ma and pa would tell us that they loved us many times . I don’t remember us saying that to each other. Just.. our names when something really good and happy happened. Me just repeating your name in the cage, it was probably just me hoping you would hear me saying I love you in a way.”

Mario’s eyes widened a bit as he thought about it. He never realizes it but.. Luigi explaining it opened something in his mind. He wrapped his arms around his brother and he could feel Luigi relaxed.

“Luigi.” Mario muttered as he closed his eyes. 

“Mario.” Luigi whispered.

They knew what they’re names meant to each other. Just a simple sound of their name made both of them understand what they were saying to each other. How much they were willing to stick together as brothers. And honestly they were going to be by each other’s side no matter how hard the words tried to split them apart. 

—

Papa Mario couldn’t help but sigh as he tried to get his oldest son to settle down. The one year was crying non-stop and it was wearing him down. It was very late and he was exhausted. His wife was in the kitchen, trying to feed the younger son medicine. Both of them had been crying ever since Luigi had gotten sick and it would take a very long time to calm them down. 

Mama Mario walked in with a crying Luigi in her arms

“No luck?”

“No. I don’t understand why they’re acting out now?”

Mario had begun kicking the crib wall and as he wails, they hear a blubber of a name. 

“Wee.gi!” Weegi!” The younger brother stopped crying and tried reaching the foreword before going back to crying.

“Ma…ro! Mar..io!” 

Papa Mario’s eyes widened to why the boys were crying. He took Luigi out of his wife's arms and placed him next to brother despite her protest. They watch as the boy stops crying, Mario squirming toward Luigi and puts his hand over his brother’s body and curls up next to him. The younger one puts his thumb in mouth and moves closer. Both of them close their eyes, quieting down for the night

“Are you sure? Luigi’s sick.” She said

“He seems happier with his brother. I think it’s best if they stay together.” 

#mario movie #super mario bros #mario #luigi #mario fanfic #brothers #mario and luigi

[shiesan]

I don’t know what to title

An Axel Syrios X Reader fic.

Kinda nsfw near the end but only if u squint

I think it’s afab? HAHAHA I wrote the first half a few months ago and just finished it today whoops. Not proof read but I still hope you like it 

“Oi! I said I was sorry!”

You couldn’t hear him. Well, more of you didn’t want to listen. It was all the same old same old. “She’s just a friend.” “I don’t care about her, I care about you.” It’s not like you didn’t want to believe him. You did. Oh with your whole being, you’d want to believe him. And maybe, just maybe, deep in your heart you actually do. Though right now as you’re hurriedly running away from him that small part of you that wants to believe is nowhere to be seen.

Faster. Faster. Faster.

This is the only word that runs through your mind as you try to run away from Axel. Try. You knew sooner or later he’d be able to catch up but you were hoping that in his “dumb” head he’d think to leave you alone, that you’d need time.

A strong hand desperately grasps your arm, forcing you to a halt. Two grown figures standing on the sidewalk as the sun sets behind them, both breathing heavily from running.

“Y/n, please you gotta listen to me…She”

“I’m sorry, Axel. But I’m tired of listening to you.” You take a deep breath. “Let’s talk when we get home okay? I’m sorry for running away. Let’s just.. Just go home for now.”

You angrily yank your arm away from him. Eyes on the road in front of you and no words were spoken as you guys made the train back home. Just a silence that was filled with so much anxiety it physically took a toll on you. You felt weak. Your head was spinning at the thought of things taking turns for the worst. But at long last, you’ve arrived at your destination. 

Both of you place your shoes near the entrance, taking small and calm steps you made it to the living room. Before sitting down you took a deep breath and tried to focus on your breathing, trying to reassure yourself everything was going to be okay. 

“Okay,” you start off. “What do you have to say now?” as you finish your sentence you slowly turn to look at a disheveled Axel.

“Listen, I know you’re getting tired of this. Again and again, you see me with another girl and later I beg for forgiveness. Nothing ever happens though, please believe me.” The boy says. And it’s true. Axel is the type of man that believes one can be friends with the opposite gender. Well, you are as well but the thing is the girls that Axel hangs out with don’t think that. Multiple times have you had threats from other girls saying that they’ll steal him away from you.

Maybe, just a little bit, the fault lies on you for not telling him. But how could you? He’s such an extroverted person. He loves being in the presence of other people. In his eyes, the time he spends with the other girls is just friendly dates. You’d dread having to tell him that you don’t want to see him hanging out with xxx person. He’s so dense. He doesn’t see how others look at him with such glimmer in their eyes. Axel doesn’t know the disgusted looks people give you when they see you both together. Heck, he didn’t even know you liked him at first. You needed to plain out and tell him that you had feelings for him. Even then the man was confused “What feelings? Ha?”. But still. You’d hope he’d take a hint that it makes you uncomfortable seeing your boyfriend with other girls.

“Babe, please. Altare was there. We weren’t the only two people there. He was just in the bathroom taking a shit. See, look at this, we even have a picture of us three together.” He said desperately trying to show you the picture. Sure enough, Altare was there. More tears flood your eyes.

I’m wrong. I caused such a scene. What the fuck am I even doing?  You wonder to yourself. Your face gets hot as tears uncontrollably leave your eyes. 

*sniffles* “I, I’m so sawwy aksel. Yu dident chu anything wrong and I- “ you could barely finish your sentence. Or could you even call it one?

“Shh, my love it’s okay.” He pulls you into a hug and wipes away your tears. You look up at him and see his face as red as yours with tears falling from it as well. Axel was never a cryer. All these years of being together and he rarely cried. Somehow every time that he did cry it was about something related to you. Your anniversary, a gift you gave him on his birthday, you making him the best damn meal he had his whole life, a surprise date. He was a crybaby when it came to you. 

He cups your face and wipes away more of your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry anymore baby, okay? I know you feel guilty and all but I know it’s partially my fault as well. It was really just me and Altare today but she happened to be in the same restaurant by herself so we invited her over. And…. I know I’ve been an asshole of a boyfriend as well.”

You felt confused.

“Babe, you’ve been nothing but the best. Why would-”

“Let me finish yo. The whole reason why I was with Altare was that I wanted to get some advice on being a better boyfriend you know? We’ve been getting into a bit more fights recently and as per Altare it’s because ‘I am a dense motherfucker who doesn’t know that people are hitting on him’. “ He pauses. And you take that pause to thank the heavens for whoever was responsible for putting Regis Altare on the planet. 

“After he pointed out shit I realized he was right. And that you were probably too scared to tell me.” He looks you in the eye expecting a response. You shyly nod. 

“I’m so sorry for being ignorant, babe. It’s been causing you a lot of pain and here I was thinking everything was okay. I’ll be better from now on okay? I’ll be more cautious of people’s advances toward me.” He smiles and hugs you closer.

You hug him tighter. “And I’ll do my best to ward them off. Hehehe. They don’t know I’m the jealous type.” You say with a joking tone at the end. 

Axel pulls away a bit and raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Is this jealousy the one you show more in the bedro-” He got cut off by you putting a hand over his mouth. Gently, he pulls your hand away from his mouth, chuckling as he does. “Just joking. A little bit of hehehaha won’t hurt anyone. Anyways, you’re right you can just ward them off!! If you see them making heart eyes at me just pull me closer and grab my ass like this.” He suddenly grabs your butt and you almost hit him in the head because of shock. 

You laugh to yourself as the man in front of you has the cheekiest smile with a little bit of blush on his face. 

“I love you.” You tell him as one of your hands gently cups half of his face. Axel turns his face a little to the side, nuzzling into your hand, and kisses it gently. 

“I love you more.” He smiles, “So about that jealousy in the bedroom do you wanna give a demonstration or?” 

“Oh shut up.” You say as you drag him into the bedroom.

_____________________________________________________

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i dont know the proper tags for this but i hoped you enjoyed cause i certainly did :3c 

Love u always,

Shie-san.

#Axel Syrios #Axel Syrios x Reader #Holostars #Holostars x Reader #Tempus x Reader #Holostars Tempus #Holostars EN #Tempus HQ x Reader

[queen-rainy-love]

Part 2! WOOHOO ROCK ON!!

Rockstar signs a few autographs for some fans, after that, he sees Mint and immediately stares at him. Parfait starts to introduce the two but both of them are like:

“Mint Choco…”

“Rockstar…”

Parfait asks nervously if they know each other and Rockstar says yes, and MC agrees. They both awkwardly look away and Parfait immediately suggests they all should go get a drink. They go to the bar, but it’s still awkward. MC excuses himself and exits. Parfait asks why they’re both so stiff, RS says it’s complicated and drinks and listens to the music from the juke box.

(Vampire whispers to Parfait that this looks like a movie he saw, Parfait glares at him.)

part 3 tbc!!!

Alright! Let's see how this goes! (I'm posting this now since I do want to finish some stuff I have left before November.)

*The scene picks right back up with Rockstar, Parfait, and Mint Choco standing in the middle of the crowd. After Mint Choco had said what he said, Rockstar's eyes fell right on him after finishing some autographs. They stared at each other, the air filling with an uncomfortable feeling. This caused the crowd to disperse. Parfait looked back and forth between them.*

Parfait: Um...so this is-

Rockstar: Mint Choco...

Mint Choco: Rockstar...

Parfait: *nervously laughs* Oh! You know each other?

Rockstar: Yeah...we know each other.

*Mint Choco stiffly nodded before both of them looked away from each other. Parfait started sweating a lot.*

Parfait: Um...How about we get something to drink in Sparkling's juice bar?

*Cut to Sparkling's bar...the trio were sitting at the bar...and the air was still awkward. Neither looked at each other; when they did, they would just have a staring contest before breaking eye contact and drinking. Parfait sat between them, sweating even more and nervously sipping her drink.*

Parfait: (This can't be any more awkward!) So...um...are you guys excited for this upcoming concert?

Mint Choco: Yes. Very. If you will excuse me, I must get going. I need to get a ballad idea. *places some coins on the bar before getting up.* I'll see you later Parfait.

Parfait: Oh, okay. Bye. *Mint Choco walks away. As soon as he's gone, Parfait slaps Rockstar's shoulder.* What the heck?! Why were you two acting like that?!

Rockstar: Don't worry about it. It's complicated. *sips on his drink before turning to the jukebox* I wonder what songs they have right now. *walks over to the jukebox*

Parfait: Great...Just great...My two friends are not getting along. And I don't know why.

Vampire: *out of nowhere (also whispers)* Honestly...this reminds me of a movie I once saw. Are they ex-bandmates?

*Parfait whirls her head at him and glares. He shrugged and walked away.*

Parfait: (They won't tell me...but maybe Cocoa or Toothpaste can tell me! Better go find them!)

#cookie run kingdom #crk writing #mint choco cookie #parfait cookie #rockstar cookie #vampire cookie

[tendertenebrosity]

And we’re back! New piece for TJ and Danny’s series. It’s been a while, so for a refresher: Carrying on directly from previous piece here. Masterpost is here. The Pathverse is a creation of @wildfaewhump!

TJ jerked back, hands pressing themselves into his armpits, cringing. Voices hammered at his ears – at least two voices? Had somebody else approached, too?

The man was swearing, yelling – of course he was, it was bad and wrong for TJ to be here, he knew that, this person had every right to be upset. But TJ hadn’t gotten close, hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t – if only he would listen, but he wouldn’t. TJ wondered, panicked, if he ought to just sit down, fold his arms over his head, and wait for the Agency people.

The new person had a loud voice too, but not as angry – and also getting closer. Almost in his space – and then TJ stiffened, his mouth opening to cry a warning, because the new person had walked right up to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

No, you can’t touch me, he tried to say – but before he could get the words out, her bare fingers had found his and closed around them.

And then everything was fine! TJ hadn’t needed to worry about it at all. He closed his mouth, feeling a little silly he’d been so panicked. Relief washed over him like an ocean wave, inexorable, dizzying. The fingers squeezed his and he found himself grinning. Everything was going to be okay.

“I’m so sorry about my brother,” the new person was saying, her voice higher pitched than TJ’s or Danny’s, warm and friendly and with an edge of a laugh on some of the words. “He promised me he wouldn’t make a scene or cause any trouble! Here, let me help you with that…”

The warm arm around TJ’s shoulder disappeared as the woman stepped away, her voice chattering, saying something meaningless and friendly. And after a moment – the man laughed, as well, sounding shaky but relieved.

“It’s only a costume, of course!” the woman said. “I’m working on a film for school!”

“Oh, thanks – really, a film, haha, what sort of…”

“Oh, kind of – a psychological horror, sort of thing, you know.” A self-deprecating chuckle. “It’s probably not going to be very good.”

“Well, I’m sure it… the costuming is pretty, um, pretty realistic…”

“Thanks! I worked really hard on it!”

TJ tipped his head, a slight frown wrinkling his forehead and making the hastily-applied blindfold slip and let in a crack of light. He couldn’t quite get his head around how fast things had changed – now these two strangers were talking and laughing, as if they were old friends? But something wasn’t right. It was a good thing, of course it was a good thing, but why...

The woman was lying to this stranger – or was she dreadfully confused? Was it TJ’s fault? Maybe he ought to say something. Had he somehow managed to convince her, in that one brief hand-touch that shouldn’t have happened, that he was her brother?

Oh, no - he’d touched her, he’d touched a real person and his handler was nowhere near him, no, that was never ever ever supposed to happen…

She draped her arm over TJ’s shoulder again, and for a moment he felt the prickle of her thoughts like he was used to – anxiety, play this just right, waiting for somebody, he’d better get here soon, determination – before they were gently moved out of his reach. Comfort and warmth replaced them, and it seemed like a much better deal, so he let it happen. He didn’t need to worry about reading her – that was such a relief. And she was nice, she was so nice. He couldn’t see her but he bet she was pretty and smiling, he could hear the smile in her voice. And she’d soothed the angry stranger, too, so did it matter how she’d done it?

He grinned, wordlessly, filled with a kind of shy happiness, and leaned into her side. He listened to her talk without really following the words, just enjoying the cadence of her voice. Everything was going to be all right now.

“… yeah, like a third of our grade. My friend said they’d be here with our camera and stuff but they’re running late.”

“And your brother…”

“Oh, no, he’s not in the class. I just promised he could play the monster, but I didn’t think he’d be such a dick about it, he keeps sneaking up on people!”

“Oh, well, you gave me the fright of my life, not gonna lie, kid!”

The arm around TJ’s shoulders tightened. “Oh, um, my brother doesn’t talk much,” the woman said quickly. “Is your food still good to go? Sorry if it got ruined, I can replace it if you want.”

“No, no, that’s fine, no harm done.”

“Great!” A new note appeared in her voice, and if TJ hadn’t been so distracted, he might have wondered if she was nervous. “Oh, look, there’s my friend arriving with all our equipment, we’d better go! See you!”

She took hold of TJ firmly and turned him around, pulling him with her as she strode out into the rest of the concrete-and-fumes wasteland of the carpark.

He went without complaint, reassured by the firm grip on his shoulders. He stumbled once or twice over irregular surfaces she didn’t know to cue him about. But that was okay. He wondered dreamily why she was almost running.

There was the familiar sound of a car door opening, and the woman seemed to want him to get into it, so he did his best. That had to make her happy, right? It was more important than anything that the nervous bright-voiced girl with hurried hands was happy.

She climbed in after TJ, pushing him until he slid along the seat and fetched up against the opposite door. The car jolted into motion without anybody strapping TJ in, which was weird. He found his grip tightening around the woman’s hand, which was somehow in his again. She squeezed back, which was oddly reassuring.

“Thank Christ,” she said, out of breath. “Glen, don’t go home, I think we’re going to need to dump this car.”

“Yes, probably.” The person driving the car sounded distracted. “How bad do you think? Are we going to need to move?”

“No,” she said, after a moment. “No, I don’t think so, it was only a minute of conversation. I spun that guy a story, hopefully he’ll believe it for a while. Had to put the whammy on him pretty hard.”

The car turned, making TJ slide across the seat and knock his shoulder against hers. It sure was a good thing touching her was fine, he thought. Otherwise this would be a disaster.

He didn’t feel the slightest bit afraid of either of them; he could tell they were good people. Everything was going to be just fine now that he’d found them.

The thought of Danny, still probably stuck in the car, gave him pause. He shouldn’t be this happy while he hadn’t gotten Danny out yet, should he?

“Violet,” the driver said, tense and careful. “Sometimes I really do wish you would hang back for more information.”

“There wasn’t time,” she – Violet? - protested. “If I’d waited, the whole place would have been freaking out calling the Agencies and the cops.”

Glen sighed, heavily.

“Hey,” he said, his voice suddenly different, cheerier. “You all right back there?”

TJ, startled to be addressed, flinched away from them both into the car door. “Um, yes,” he said timidly – then more sure of himself. “Yes, I’m all right. Thank you!” He caught himself wanting to subside back into the seat, smiling and waiting to see what happened next. No, not yet! He pushed forward. “Only, only, I need your help with something!”

“Of course,” Glen said, sounding surprised. “We can – Violet. Are you still doing something?”

The fingers in TJ’s twitched. “Yes. He was pretty panicked when I found him. I needed him not to give the game away.” Something bled around the edges of the warm, happy feeling. Defensiveness? Impatience?

Wait, why did the warm feeling and the defensiveness both seem to come from somewhere…

“I know,” Glen said. “That’s fine. But, you can let him go now.”

“Are you sure? I think he might lose it.”

“Well, why don’t we give him a chance and see.”

The fingers uncurled from TJ’s, reluctantly. He felt, for a bare couple of moments, mostly empty. Then the awareness that he was in a car with two strange people – people who’d been touching him – seeped back in. Didn’t they know how dangerous this was?

When he got back to the Agency, things were going to be… bad. If they hadn’t been going to get rid of him before, they definitely would now.

“Oh,” he said. He pulled his arms and legs in close – hands buried under his elbows. Then he just sat, breathing quietly, head down, feeling the fear rise like dark water around him. He felt sick with dread, and guilt, and fear.

“All right,” the voice from the driver – Glen – still calm and cheery as if everything was fine. “Take it slow, now, I know it’s a lot. What’s your name?”

“Um. TJ,” he whispered. That was… a weird question. Nobody had ever needed to ask his name before. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t – I didn’t mean to do anything, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! It’s just that Danny’s hurt and, and, I’m not supposed to be out here but I need to do something, I need to find somebody to fix it!”

“OK, OK,” Violet said, soothingly. “TJ. Like tee-jay? OK. I’m Violet. The guy driving is Glen. Everything will be fine, don’t worry. We’re going to take you somewhere safe.”

“No, you don’t understand,” TJ said, urgently. How much time had he already wasted? “Danny’s hurt. I need you to call our Agency, or somebody, to come get him. He’s back there, he’s in the car, he stopped talking….”

Neither of them said anything, and the car didn’t stop or turn around. Neither did anybody seem to be making a phone call. TJ wasn’t explaining it properly, they didn’t understand. TJ should know better than to get the story all jumbled like this.

“There was a car crash,” he said, slowly and carefully. “Danny’s car, it rolled over. I came out here – without him – to find someone who could call our Agency. Danny’s too hurt to do it for himself. So, you need…”

“TJ,” Violet said, speaking over him. “We can’t call an Agency. OK? Agencies aren’t safe for us right now.”

But she was wrong, the Agency was the safest place – the only safe place. But he supposed normal people wouldn’t think that way. “No, it’ll be fine,” TJ said, his voice starting to wobble. “That’s where I’m from – it’ll be safe for you, it’s not – I’m not normally wandering out alone. Agencies are safe. And it’s where Danny and me came from, so we need to go back.”

“We know that’s where you came from,” Violet said. “It’s okay, we’re not scared of you, TJ. We’re like you. Agencies would hurt us.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” TJ said, bewildered. “Maybe not ours, but another one? That’s what Danny wanted. You could find Julie, I think hers is Southwest...”

“No! We’re not calling any agencies.”

“But you have to call them! You have to call somebody!” TJ felt his voice rising, bouncing off the interior of the car back at him, and he was too upset to care right now.  He still wasn’t buckled in, and it felt wrong and bad and distracting. He put his hands out, feeling the surfaces around him, soft fabric fuzz and hard plastic, nothing familiar.

“TJ, it’s OK, I - ”

Glen’s voice cut over the top of Violet’s. “Vi, let him be. TJ, who is Danny? Your friend?”

“Nnnno?” TJ gulped in a breath. “My handler Danny. He takes care of me. He was taking me somewhere in his car, but then it crashed - he’s stuck. Somebody needs to go get him out, so we have to call. Or – or, you have a car, he isn’t far, you could go get him?”

There was a long silence in the car, in which he heard somebody hiss in a breath.

“Look, if you go back along the road,” he said, the words falling over each other. If he could just get them to see Danny… “Back where I came from, the road with the grass and the trees, the, the hill – it isn’t that far, if you go back there you’ll find him -”

“Your handler,” Violet repeated carefully.

TJ nodded. “My handler, Danny. Yeah. You’ll help, right?” He’d felt so sure they would, just a few minutes ago when Violet was holding his hand. He shouldn’t be talking to people like this – Paths didn’t talk to people – but Violet had been so nice, and this was so important. Surely people wouldn’t just let somebody die if they could help. Would they?

Another long silence, filled with the little noises of a car on the road, the rush of wind and the small clicks and beeps.

“We can’t, TJ, I’m sorry,” Glen said.

No.

TJ filled his lungs with one huge, horrified breath, like he was drowning. How could this all be going so wrong? “But you have to! He might die!”

“We can’t,” Glen repeated. “I’m sorry, we just can’t. You, me and Violet are going to go somewhere safe. And I’ll try to explain it all later.”

“No! You don’t understand!” TJ’s hands gripped his knees, so hard it hurt. Somewhere safe? Safe wile Danny was maybe dying? “I can’t go with you somewhere without him!”

“It’ll be OK, TJ, I promise. Someone else will get Danny. You won’t -”

“No! No, it won’t!” His eyes stung under the blindfold, the blindfold that was slipping and letting in cracks of light, hot tears seeping through the fabric. “It won’t be OK. He’ll die! He’ll die and it’s my fault! Why won’t you do anything, I- !”

TJ stopped, gasped for breath for a second, and -

And everything went away. Again.

Violet’s fingers nudged him to let go of his knees, and there suddenly wasn’t any reason to be gripping them so hard, so he let the fingers relax – distantly he felt the ache of something that might bruise later.

And then once that wasn’t hurting anymore, there was nothing to do but sit back in the car seat, watch the glittering bits of light in the darkness, and… drift.

His body felt weird. Why was he breathing that hard? He listened to his heartbeart – it was very fast just at the moment, but it was slowing down. The others were talking about something, and they both seemed kind of agitated about something.

“… isn’t fair or right, Vi. You can’t keep - ”

“Glen, he’s fresh out of an agency! He doesn’t even understand what consent is!”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to respect it.”

“Like I told you, he is flipping out, he’s fucking traumatised, you can’t expect to talk him down out of this in the course of a fifteen minute drive!”

“And do you really think this is helping that in the long term?”

“Long term, jesus, let’s just get through today, all right?” Violet sighed, a heavy sigh that moved her shoulder where it was brushing against TJ’s. “Look, I’m sorry, we can argue about it later but it’s done now. We need to focus on getting everybody locked down.”

“You’re right. Fine. We’ll talk about it later.”

TJ wondered, for the first time, who these people actually were. Glen and Violet. Afraid of Agencies. Did that make them criminals? Probably. He hadn’t really read anything from Violet, and -

In fact, he still couldn’t. That was…  strange. He’d been too afraid and confused before to really think about it.

TJ struggled against the emptiness, the blank lethargy that he seemed to be floating in, to find that thought compelling enough to keep thinking about. It was difficult. It’d be so much easier to just sit here, thinking of whatever crossed his mind, and not needing to go anywhere or say anything or be upset about anything.

But this was important, he reminded himself. Really important. Danny needed these people – he needed TJ.

“I think we call it. If they’ve had a unit go missing, this place is going to be crawling with Agency goons any minute now.”

“Mm.”

Violet. Her fingers were resting lightly on top of his. It was wrong of him, but he quested towards her, like a hand patting around to find something that wasn’t where it should be.

The something pushed back, gentle but impatient, and was back in the drifting impassivity again.

The pieces fell into place, as he drifted, and felt only the vaguest impression of surprise as he realised that these people were other Paths. She’d even said so earlier, she’d said we’re like you.

But they were nothing like TJ. They talked more like… just, well, people. Like anybody, any random person from the borrowed memories TJ plunged into every day.

“Who do you think they are? The uniform doesn’t match any of the locals.”

A hand touched TJ’s shoulder, plucking at the scrub shirt to look at something on it. The pocket?

“Damn, this says Smithfield…. Off their turf. What are they doing all the way out here?”

“I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.”

This is really important, he told himself. The blankness pressed back against this thought - no, it wasn’t important – but it was.

When you’re done with this, then you can rest, he told himself – feeling the echo of Danny in his mind again, pushing him onwards, always when he felt like he couldn’t take one more instant in foreign minds. Just a little more. Just a little further. TJ could always go for just a little longer.

He set himself against the blankness, against the source of it. Pulled together all the little scraps of strength he could muster, and tried to throw the smothering nothingness off like a blanket.

It fought back. Slipping under his guard, a slow inexorable pressure that bore him down. He struck out, and a little bit of fear crept in underneath it. Had he felt this before? He had a sudden – fleeting sensation that maybe he had. Not the blankness, exactly, but… pressure. The fuzzy, painful, untouchable edges of a mind, sudden emotions that seemed to come out of nowhere.

He lifted up his hand and pulled it away from Violet’s.

“Hey, uh - ” The hand grabbed his again, before the nothingness could truly lift. She sounded surprised. “TJ, don’t.”

He resisted, trying to hold a space free for himself underneath the blankness. “Stop it,” he managed to whisper. “This is… important. It is.”

“Just chill out, it’ll be okay…”

“No! It won’t!” TJ found the weirdly slippery, elusive boundary that should have been Violet’s mind, and shoved it as hard as he could.

“Ow!”

And just like that, the hand was gone, the mind was gone, and the world came flooding back.

TJ huddled against the car door, panting. Tears were running down his face, the blindfold was wet. “Stop it!” he said, with more force than he’d ever used in his life. Anger. That was a bad, a dangerous feeling, but he didn’t care. “Don’t! I don’t want you in there, you can’t make me forget it! You can’t get me to just sit here and do nothing!”

While he was trying to get his breathing under control, Glen spoke again from the front of the car.

“Well. That’s that.”

“Ow,” Violet mumbled. “I didn’t – ” There was a sigh and a thump. “Fine, we’ll drive all the way to the second safehouse with him in hysterics. Great.”

“You’re wrong,” TJ blurted out. “People aren’t going to be coming to look for us. We’re not supposed to be here.”

“The Agency will still know where you are, TJ,” Glen said gently. “They always do. I know you’re worried about this Danny, but once he doesn’t report in - ”

“The Agency doesn’t know we’re here! Nobody knows, we’re not on a job, I’m not supposed to have left! I’m only here because Danny stole me!”

He could hear surprise in Glen’s voice. “Stole you?”

“That’s why it’s my fault!” TJ hung his head, feeling a drip of moisture fall from his face onto his knee, warmth soaking through the thin scrub fabric. Blood? Tears? He blotted his elbow over his face, speaking muffled through the folds of fabric. “He only came out here to try and, try and get me better, so if it wasn’t for me he wouldn’t be hurt. He’s not supposed to get hurt because of me.”

“He took you from the Agency?” Violet pressed. “Why?”

“He said – he said they were going to kill me,” TJ snuffled. “I don’t – know – why, I guess I’m not good at it anymore, the reading. But he said he wasn’t going to let it happen. S-so he took me here.” The words were coming out all wet and mangled, could they even understand him? “He can’t die. Please. He’s – he’s the only person who’s ever been nice to me – just nice for no reason – ever, that I can remember, ever ever. You have to help him.”

The car was quiet again for a moment, only the sounds of TJ’s difficult breathing.

“You’re not thinking of actually picking this guy up, are you?” Violet demanded.

“Mmm...”

“That’s crazy! You know it’s crazy.”

“Well, it might…”

“You will?” TJ’s head snapped back up. “You’ll go back? Oh, please! I promise I - ”

“Shhh, TJ, just a minute. Look, I think it might be worth it, especially if it means the trail goes cold. No Agency car, no path, no handler…”

“What are we going to do with him?”

“Elise will help. And… depending… if it goes south, we can always call in Peter.”

Violet made a scoffing, incredulous noise. “You’re really serious about this. Damn.”

“Mmm.”

The car suddenly changed its speed and direction – swinging across the road, making TJ gasp and grab at the seat in front of him. We’re turning around?

“Shit. All right,” Violet said. “TJ – I’m gonna touch you, don’t freak out, just strapping you in, okay? No tricks.”

“No tricks,” TJ echoed, sitting back. He felt a smile – the biggest smile he could remember – spreading across his face. “We’re going back? We’re getting Danny?”

“Guess so,” Violet muttered. Her hands firmly pulled the seatbelt across with a zzzippp, careful not to touch TJ’s bare hands this time. “But, hey, I’m the one who acts too fast and doesn’t think things through. It’s me. Yup.”

#TJ and Danny #pathverse #new ocs! new ocs! #Glen #Violet #escape #rescue #emotional whump #empath powers

[nev3rfound]

what took you so long? : n.r

whenever natasha returns from a mission, you're waiting for her. yet this time, you just couldn't manage to keep your eyes open long enough to see her come home. (600 words roughly)

requested by @emilyprentisslittlewhore - better late than never! i hope you enjoy it love :) warnings - none, just fluff

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

The mission had gone on a lot longer than any of the team had anticipated. Usually, Natasha returned home to see you waiting for her with a bright smile regardless of the time. It was one of the little things she loves about you. No matter what condition she comes home in, whether her mind feels broken from the scenes she witnessed your smile softens it all, even for a short while.

"She'll be there, Nat." Steve nudges Natasha playfully as the Quinjet begins to descend.

Yet, Natasha isn't so certain. The last message she received from you had been several hours ago, and since then you've been silent.

The widow couldn't help contemplating if something had happened, but she knew the scenarios she was conjuring up weren't needed; you were fine, back at the compound.

"We'll be landing in less than five." The pilot calls out to the duo, now fastening the buckle across their chests and leaning back into their seats in preparation for the landing.

With a smooth landing, Natasha is the first to depart from the jet. She eyes the base carefully, knowing you'd stand out to her even in a crowd of hundreds. But to her disappointment, you're nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Y/n then?" Steve asks, clapping his hands together to try and disguise the yawn sounding from his lips. "She's probably waiting inside, it is kinda cold out here and late." He reasons, patting Nat's shoulder before walking ahead and into the compound.

"Yeah." Natasha mutters to herself, following after Steve and straight toward your room, knowing if anywhere, that's where you'd be.

Once the elevator doors open, Natasha quickly walks toward your door and upon opening it she smiles softly.

Not having the heart to dare and wake you from your peaceful slumber, she notes your hand hanging out from the bed with your phone face-up on the floor open to reply to her messages.

"Hey, love." Natasha whispers to you whilst changing into some pj's before carefully lifting the sheets up, comfort filling her senses at the scent lacing your sheets. "I'm home." She adds, lying back on the bed and simply waits for sleep to fall naturally.

Yet, after what feels like a good hour, Natasha remains wide awake and too alert for her own liking. She listens to your snores beside her, noting how your shoulder rises and falls as you lie on your side, back facing her.

Lifting her fingers up, Natasha trails her forefinger along your shoulder blade, creating patterns across your back and down your spine. "Mmmh," You murmur, causing Natasha to hesitate. "Nat?" You tiredly speak up, turning awkwardly to face your girlfriend.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Natasha chuckles, watching as you struggle to keep your eyes open and a half-smile at the same time. "I thought I'd find you here."

You try to nod, only managing to burrow your face further into your pillow. "I wanted to wait," You try to explain, but your mind remains clouded by sleep.

"It's alright, princess." Natasha brushes your hair from your face, realising you have no energy or care to do it yourself. "Let's just get some sleep, yeah? We can catch up on everything in the morning."

"Okay." You mumble, moving closer into Natasha's embrace, burying your face into her chest with a happy hum leaving your lips. "it's good to have you home, Nat."

Unable to stop her smile from growing, Natasha kisses the top of your head. Her lips linger momentarily before she closes her eyes, knowing she couldn't be happier to be back by your side. "It's good to be home."

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)@bissstuff @psychicforest@lourightm@mywinterwolf@justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx@courtneychicken@marvelsangels@supraveng@tommy-lee-81@smilexcaptainx@fandom-princess-forevermore@sarge-barnes-sir@pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated-fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs@eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8@notbrooklynsblog @nikkixostan @cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976@sarcasticallywitty15 @multi-fandom-princess07 @16boyfriends-and-me @courtneychicken @mackevanstan80 @torchwoodoctor @pleasantlysecretdream @yougottalovefandoms @magicalxdaydream@soccer-100000 @tenaciousperfectionunkown @talksoprettyjjx @btsonthedaily @jessyballet @katiaw2 @buckyswildflower@lucrea @weenersoldierr @katiaw2 @lucrea @amelia-song-pond @bluelakeee @dottirose @emilytheukuleleplayer @5-seconds-of-mendes @rudystilinski @bookfrog242@wild-rose-35@fleurlovesbucky@iiclarixa @soldierstucky@twinerd14@lieswithoutfairytales@ateliefloresdaprimavera@teenwonder@weenersoldierr@nobody-will @ilikemypolarbear @rottenstyx @original-in-itself @sebby-staan @bbl32 @lyoongx @iilwjbb @siriuslyslytherin @chazubagi @youngmarveltastypersona @iamninaannaisreading @marry-me-calum-hood @original-in-itself @clownerlyluv @emilyprentisslittlewhore @amelia-song-pond @buckleyx @jesuswasnotawhiteman @hallecarey1 @sleutherclaw @wonderwoman292 @paintballkid711 @leyannrae @blackwidownat2814 @lmao-ethel @fillechatoyante @evanpetersisreallyhot @i-neverasktwice @aconfusedslytherin @kpopnena @ruzannetheseahorse @yelenabelovasgf @harysty @pastelreds @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @keyanasstuff @marvelatthisone

#cant believe this is my first nat piece?! #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff oneshot #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers oneshot #avengers fluff #avengers angst #avengers x you #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel oneshot #black widow #black widow imagine #black widow imagines #black widow oneshot

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on. 

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish. 

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy. 

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands). 

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding. 

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.” 

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all. 

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t. 

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world. 

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about. 

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease. 

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do. 

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind. 

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.” 

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused. 

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves. 

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop. 

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening. 

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse social media au #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #fluff #wtf i have never been this soft no one hmu

[strangelysamantha]

hey, i have a jj maybank request! fem!reader, possible angst!

so basically, y/n is a pogue and gets along with the other pogues (john b, pope, sarah, kiara & cleo) except for jj. y/n is always bright, a total sweetheart and bubbly and jj…hates it.

john b recently opens up a surf board shop on that stranded island that they’re on?? and he leaves y/n and jj alone to polish some boards hoping that they’d get along. jj complains about every little thing y/n does and starts calling her names. she gets really upset and storms out the shop to clear her head. she goes by the water for a swim but a dangerous tide picks her up and jj notices and saves her?? hopefully this makes sense!

the deep end ☆

jj maybank x fem!reader.

warnings: mentions of drowning, jj being an asshole, swearing.

words: 1,674.

summary: jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.

request? yes!

a/n: y’all have such good ideas what the?! thank you for the request! if you enjoyed please like and comment. this is angst with fluff at the end. <3 BTW i am from missouri and have never surfed so i hope i got the polishing of the surfboards correct. :)

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

john b always had a plan, well usually he did. if two of his friends were fighting, he would always find a way to get them to get along. he knew that stranding kiara and sarah on a boat together in the middle of nowhere would force them to fix their friendship. so, with that knowledge, he knew that he could do the same thing with jj and you.

you were always nice to jj, he just seemed to get annoyed with you all the time. you didn’t know what you had done, if you had even done something. he just always felt the need to critique you. it became harder and harder everyday to ignore him.

since washing up on the abandoned island, john b was ecstatic for his brand new start. unsurprisingly to anyone, his first idea for creating a new civilization would be a surf shack. he started building it right away. you would occasionally help, but he was determined to do it on his own so he would always send you away.

“okay! john b what would you like my help with? i can do anything you need. just let me know.” you smile brightly at john b, while he stared at you. “listen, i love you. but, i don’t need your help at the moment. you should talk to everyone else.” you frown at his words, “fine. but you better get me the minute you need assistance.” he nodded. “will do.” and with that, you left joining the others.

jj was talking to cleo before silencing upon your arrival. “hey everyone!” you smile at the group in front of you. “hey! how’s john b?” kiara asked. “i think he is good, he’s actually pretty much done.” you play with the bracelet on your wrist. kiara nods, “that’s great.” pope smiles, “statistically speaking, we can’t ensure that his shack will be entirely safe as he built it all on his own.” you stare at pope. “true… we’ll let’s hope it doesn’t collapse on him.” pope smiled at you, glad you listened to his random fact.

jj groaned. “awe, how sweet pope!! you found a girl who wasn’t disgusted by your weird and useless knowledge.” you gasp in shock, “jj! shut up you are so rude.” jj laughs, “it’s just a joke, why do you always have to be so offended?” you glare at jj. “jj it’s not funny, you’re just a dick.” pope sighs. “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you frown in popes direction. you quietly pull away from the group. you walk to an area of sand, plopping yourself down. that’s when john b approached you.

“hey, remember when i told you i would come get you when i needed help?” john b smiled at you. “yes! do you need my help?” you tilt your head to the side, waiting. he nods. “i need you to wax up some of the boards i made.” you nod. “okay! sure.” he walked you to his shack, helping you set up. you began waxing the board, paying attention to the direction and the amount of wax you were applying. john b waits a minute watching you, before he decides to leave.

after a minute, you see jj approaching the shack with john b who held a smug smile on his lips. you shake your head, confused. “friends.” he looked between you and jj. jj held an unamused look on his face. “as my close friends, you will wax these boards for me. you can’t stop until you guys fix whatever feud is going on between the two of you.” john b stands his ground. jj scoffs, “we don’t have a feud.” you nod your head in agreement. “jj is right, his hatred is definitely one sided... it is not a feud.” you laugh softly seeing jj send a glare your way. “yeah okay. whatever guys. just fix it, and if you even try and leave, i’ll send cleo after both of you.” your eyebrows lift in shock. you mutter a quick okay, returning your attention to the board.

jj stares at you, watching you apply the wax. he couldn’t help but get upset. everything you did just made him annoyed. he grabbed the wax, working on the board right by yours. silence falls over the two of you. it’s not awkward or weird, it actually feels quite normal. until jj interrupted it so he could judge you.

“youre doing it wrong. i mean come on.” you stare at jj, “jj please just focus on your own board.” you shake your head, continuing to polish the surfboard. he glares at you. “whatever. just keep doing what you are doing, and then john b or i will fix it after you.” his attention turned back to his board. you rolled your eyes. “i will, thank you.” he breathes in, inhaling the waxy scent. “you are so annoying you know that?” you ignore jj’s words, focusing on the board. he continues, “i mean everything you do. everything you say, it pisses me off.” you nod slightly. “you done?”

“no, actually i’m not.” you bite your lip, fixating on the wax that is spreading along the smooth surface. jj stops waxing the surfboard. you look up to see he is already staring at you. “you know, you act like you are better than us, i mean why do you hang out with us anyway?” jj waits but continues when he realizes you won’t reply. “you are fake, you are so upbeat and bubbly that it’s annoying. you are a double sided two faced bitch who says anything to get in good graces.” you inhale, looking up at him.

“listen jj. we are stranded on this fucking island. TOGETHER. so either drop it and move on, or just shut the fuck up and stay away from me.” you place your hands on your hips, breathing slightly staggered from anger. “everyone speaks so highly of you saying how great you are; but the only jj i’ve met is a total douche. if you hate me so much then just stay the fuck away from me. if you continue you’ll just be wasting your breath and energy anyway.” jj holds back a laugh at your sudden outburst.

“you really think if i had the choice, i would want to be here? especially with you?” jj asked, you already knowing the answer. you stay silent. “exactly. no one can deal with you for that long anyway.” you roll your eyes.

“whatever jj. you win.” you toss the wax to the side, frowning. you don’t turn back to him, you just ignore him. you start to walk towards the beaches seashore. it was getting slightly hot, so you decided to take a dip into the water.

you were salvaging the few moments of freedom you had, before you got john b’s and cleo’s wrath from leaving the scene before mending the friendship with jj. it was practically impossible. what did jj have against you? you tip toed into the water, getting deeper and deeper. you floated at the top of the water; the coolness feeling great on top of your hot skin.

jj truly had the biggest nerve, your mind was overwhelmingly clogged. you felt seaweed scratch against the bottom of your foot, this caused you to jump, your adrenaline levels rising since you thought it was a fish. you try to remain afloat, but the high tide caused the waves to crash right over you repeatedly, being faster and higher than ever. you went above water trying to shout for help, but your mouth was filled, causing no sound to come out. you thrash against the water, kicking to stay afloat. your throat was burning, your legs tired from kicking, and your lungs filled with liquid.

a pair of hands wrap around your stomach, dragging you out the water. you were placed on the warm sand. “shit.” jj stared at you. your head felt light. jj’s hand began pumping your chest, curses falling from his mouth. “come on, just breathe. please.” you cough, the salt water exiting your lungs, and dropping onto your neck. you gasp for air, opening your eyes to be met with jj’s face. you breathe heavily for a minute.

“jj… thank you.” you sit up, pulling him into a tight hug. your hands wrap around his neck, one of them grabbing his hair. his arms held tightly around your waist. his chest was heaving heavily, shaking slightly. “i hate to be so cliché j, but you genuinely saved my life.” he frowns at you. “i almost lost you.”

jj’s confession confused you. “what?” you say softly, your hand combed through his hair. “look. the reason i’m so mean to you, is because i knew that if i was nice to you, my already intense feelings for you would only amplify.” you frown at him. “you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” jj nodded. you went to talk, but your friends interrupted the moment.

john b rushed to your side, kiara and pope swiftly behind him. “what happened!! we were watching from over there.” john b pointed in a direction farther away. “one minute you were swimming… the next you we’re gone!?” you wipe your neck, trying to dry it off. “jj saved my life. i almost drowned.” you frown, the group in front of you nodded. “im so glad you are okay.” kiara bent down pulling you into a hug. “i’m glad you are safe now too.” pope joined in on the hug; as well as everyone else.

sarah, kiara, and cleo bend down, reaching for your hands. they help you up, dragging you to your feet. they walk you away from the crowd, bombarding you with questions. “so when you were drowning what did it feel like??” you turn around watching jj, you smile slightly before turning to them. “oh get ready for the amount of details i’m going to give you guys.”

possibly a part two…??? not sure yet :) <3 also!! i’m proofreading this tomorrow since i’m not entirely sure if it has errors or not! ily!!

#jj maybank obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader angst #fiction #writing #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank imagine #outerbanks fanfics #outer banks imagines #outer banks story #outer banks angst #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank obx fanfic #jj x fem!reader

[cookiesnt]

Mondo, Gundham, Fuyuhiko, Byakuya and Korekiyo seeing their little sister getting catcalled

tw / harassment, threats of violence

Here are some protective boys for you!

Mondo:

You were going for a walk with your brother.

It was a warm summer day, so you were wearing shorts and a tank top.

Now, Mondo may be a very protective brother, but he’s not the type of guy to tell you what you can and can’t wear.

“As long as nothing’s just hanging out, I don’t care whatcha wear.”

Besides, people usually don’t harass you, especially when he’s around.

Unfortunately, this plan isn’t always foolproof.

As you were walking to an ice cream shop, you noticed a couple guys your brother’s age hanging out in a car.

You ignored them at first, but then...

“Damn, babe! Wanna come over here and gimme some sugar?”

You tensed and looked up at Mondo.

He did not look happy.

But, he chose to be the bigger person and try to continue walking, this time with a firm grip on your hand.

“Aww, don’t be like that, babe! Leave that guy and come have fun with us!”

That was the last straw for Mondo. He let go of your hand and walked towards the car.

“You wanna say that sh*t to my face, you f*cking creeps?!”

The men froze, seemingly intimidated.

“Yeah, that’s what I f*cking thought. You so much as look in my baby sister’s direction again and I’ll ruin your goddamn lives, you hear me?!”

The men nodded, started their car, and drove off.

Mondo sighed and went back to you.

“You okay? I’m sorry you had to see that...”

“I...I’m okay. Just a little shaken up...”

He pulled you into a hug, which you reciprocated.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, kid. I promise.” He pulled away and wiped a stray tear from your cheeks. “Now, let’s go get that ice cream you like.”

Gundham:

You were making your way to an animal shelter with Gundham.

Apparently, they had just gotten in a very angry cat and needed his expertise.

You decided to tag along, since you had nothing better to do.

It was a beautiful day, so a lot of people were out.

That’s... not always a good thing.

You were about five minutes away from the shelter when you noticed a guy leaning on a building.

You walked passed him, focusing on getting to the shelter...

*whistle*

You turned around, surprised.

“Hey girl. Wanna leave that goth freak and come have some fun? I can show you a real good time.”

You whimpered and looked towards Gundham.

He took a deep breath before locking eyes with the man, clearly upset.

“How dare you say such things?!”

The man seemed surprised to be confronted and scolded, but Gundham wasn’t letting up.

“That is no way to speak to a lady, especially if that lady is my younger sibling!”

Gundham was getting very, very mad. It was rare to see him this upset.

It almost frightened you.

“Now, I suggest you be on your way, and never speak to anyone in that manner again. And if your dare threaten my dark princess, I will send you to hell myself!”

The man ran off in fear. Gundham turned to you with a worried expression.

“Are you alright,” he asked softly. You nodded.

“L-Let’s just get to the shelter...”

Concerned, he agreed, but he took your hand and held it with a tight grip in an attempt to comfort you.

It worked.

Fuyuhiko:

You were walking to a coffee shop to meet up with Fuyuhiko after school.

Peko had chosen to stay behind and study.

You didn’t get to hang out with Fuyuhiko much these days since he was in Hope’s Peak.

That’s why you were so eager to get to the shop. You missed your big brother.

As you skipped towards your destination, still in your school uniform, you heard someone calling something.

“Hey hot stuff!”

You didn’t see anyone else in the area. It was just you and some dude a bit older than your brother.

“A-Are you talking to me?” The guy nodded.

“Why not come over here for a little ride babe?”

You didn’t know how to respond. You usually had Fuyuhiko or someone to help you with this kinda thing.

You were about to answer, when out of literally nowhere...

“Hey bastard! Get the f*ck away from her!”

“Fuyuhiko?!”

He walked towards the scene and pulled you behind him.

“Seriously, chick? You’re gonna run off with boss baby over here?!”

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was seething with rage.

“Shut the f*ck up, scumbag! You’re lucky she’s too nice to let me tear out your eyeballs and shove ‘em down your throat!”

The man took a step back, dumbfounded.

“Now, I suggest you run off and never come anywhere near me or my little sister again, or everything I said will be more than just a threat! Now f*ck off!”

The man ran off in fear, leaving you with a very angry Fuyuhiko. He turned around, trying to calm himself.

“He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

“No. You got here in time. Thank you.”

He sighed in relief.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed your hand and walked you to the coffee shop.

There was an obituary for the man in the paper 2 days later.

Byakuya:

You were at a meeting with your brother.

There were a couple big guys from other companies and you could tell a couple of them had been eyeing you up.

It wasn’t unusual, but it still sucked.

As close as you were with Byakuya, you never told him.

He’s not a bleeding heart.

While the meeting was on a break and Byakuya had left the room, you were filing some paperwork and trying to ignore the creeps in the room.

“Hey darlin’! Why not come over here, hmm?”

You sighed and tried to ignore their whispers and whistles.

“Aww, don’t be a bore, doll. Come on over and give us a little show!”

Now you were beyond uncomfortable. You’d even go as far as saying you felt unsafe.

“Repeat that.”

You turned to the door and noticed Byakuya with an angry expression.

“Oh! M-Mr. Togami! W-We were just-”

“Don’t talk. I’m sick of hearing you,” He said as he walked to your side.

“You will all be leaving now. This meeting is over.”

“B-But sir-”

“THIS MEETING IS OVER!” 

You had never heard Byakuya yell like that.

The men scrambled out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. Byakuya turned to you.

“How long?” You took a deep breath.

“Pretty much since I started working...”

He shook his head.

“If this ever happens again, notify me immediately.”

“I promise...”

Korekiyo:

You two were walking to the museum.

They had received some documents that they needed him to look at, and since you’re his ‘apprentice’, he brought you along with him.

He enjoyed spending time with you. He even called you his best friend.

For this reason, he was also very protective over you.

As you discussed potential findings, you briefly caught a glimpse of a man in an alleyway.

Slightly nervous, you stood closer to Kiyo.

He noticed and started walking faster.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.

“Hey baby! Why not let go of that freak and come with me? I can show you a good- Urk!”

He couldn’t finish his sentence before Kiyo grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall of the alleyway.

Most of his face was concealed, but you could tell he was fuming.

His eyes said it all.

“I will stop you right their, sir.”

The man tried pulling your brother off his neck, failing.

“You will listen to me, and you will listen well. You will never, ever speak to anyone in that way ever again. Am I clear?”

The man nodded and tried to get away again.

“I have not finished. If you go anywhere even remotely near my sister ever again, I will tear out your nerves one by one.”

The man swallowed a lump in his throat, nodding again.

“Good.” Korekiyo let him go and watched with disgust and he scurried off like a mouse. Once he was sure the man was gone, he turned to you.

“Are you alright, my dear?” His eyes were filled with concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay...” He sighed and pulled you into a hug.

“I will always protect you, Y/n. That disgusting excuse of a human will never harm you again. I’ll make sure of it...”

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x reader #mondo owada #mondo owada x reader #GUNDHAM TANAKA #gundham tanaka x reader #Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu #fuyuhiko kuzuryu imagines #fuyuhiko kuzuryu x reader #Byakuya Togami #byakuya togami x reader #korekiyo shinguji imagines #korekiyo shinguji #korekiyo shinguuji x reader #tw cat calling #tw harassment #sister reader #mod mizuki

[animefreak1145]

The Brilliance of Break On Through

Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War Mission Break on Through—An Analysis

I have replayed the campaign of COD:BOCW numerous times—too many times truly. Did a whole playthrough where it was Hardened and soon I’m sure I shall do Veteran(something I have never done for any COD game. Not even Hardened.).

All missions have their own unique qualities—parts where the player gets a little rush of adrenaline depending on the kind of mission and how they choose to play it (Nowhere Left to Run just a plain shooting match while Brick in the Wall you can choose to remain stealthy like the good spy you are or go crazy like an eager homicidal maniac).

Even within the safehouse, there are plenty of little details to discover if you take the time to look around and observe everyone. Or, everything. (The radio if turned to a Russian station/correspondence, Adler changes it back immediately before Da Nang mission. Watching Park’s body language, as you talk to Adler and she periodically looks over to you two. Adler suspicious when you go to the Red Room or the locked room with the arcade. The T.V. being turned on in the Red Room)

But the amount of details, details, in the mission Break on Through is outstanding. I have played this mission more than any other due to me wishing to look at all the details. There’s so many, I think I may miss some. And I can’t show them off all to you cause I suck at creating gifs and don’t know how to transfer that from Xbox to my phone.

To lighten it up a bit, I won’t focus on the four different scenarios you go through—at least not each one. That would take too long and I do not have gifs/pics to show it off since Tumblr limits it to ten anyways.

I will, however, try to guide to what parts of the game you all can explore if you choose to do so. As well just how detailed they did this mission.

I am going to start with the different statements Adler says to you throughout all the Scenarios(17, 6, 11, 1). We only go through four in the actual game—but the fact it goes up to 17 or possibly more shows just how far they went in and messed with Bell’s mind.

Now, Adler seems to be a bit bipolar on how he talks to you whether or not you listen to him and all his directions. Either totally blasé and cold to giving you and pumping you up with more MK or meds, or actually a tad concerned and patient as he guides you through.

If You/Bell Stands Still/Does Nothing:

Example 1

“So you did nothing? What were you, in shock?”

He throws the words callously, mocking. As if Bell isn’t confused and lost at what is going on. He even sounds irritated that you might actually be in shock due to these memories that are just fake—not even real. Not like what he has.

Example 2

“What’s wrong with Bell?” -Adler

“I’m not sure. . .” -Park

“I guess we’ll just wait on you to proceed, Bell.”

The contrast is dizzying. He sounds concerned when he asks Park on what could be wrong with you. If he pushed you too far and now you’re just frozen. And, instead of rushing you due to how the fate of half of Europe is at stake, he decides to give you space. Just wait for you and you’ll come out of it soon enough.

He does these sort of reactions numerous times. Jumping from intimidating to the Adler we knew as the player, as Bell—kind and always in your corner that believes in you. He switches tactics based on what he believes will work really—or he just felt really on edge at times and threw the farce that you two were friends out the window.

Other examples include:

Scenario 11–Napalm Strike-in the lab in the room where you were brainwashed

“Christ, what’s happening with them?”-Adler

“A mild seizure. Sims, past me a benzodiazepine.” -Park

Again, concerned. Worried. Almost…at unease?

In the lab—tripped up on drugs. If you run through the tight shrinking hallway back and forth like so(I suck at making gifs, I’m sorry):

“Why is Bell repeating themselves?”

Or

“Bell, stop speaking in circles.”

Now, as others may have suspected, Bell is talking to everyone as they’re stuck in this horrible loop of mental torture. Most likely muttering, hands clenching and arms pulling against the straps of the gurney, moving their head back and forth depending on what they’re seeing. I always saw Bell as muttering quickly in Russian as they go through all of this—their mother tongue where it may comfort them as they’re panicking and speaking to Adler.

It’s just a nice detail showcasing how exactly Adler knows that Bell is on script—Bell saying what they’re seeing and doing and what’s going on. It shows also just how hard they put Bell through the ringer(badum tss. I’ll leave now).

All the details too when the game shows how the drugs they put in Bell affects you. Like so. The hallways appearing long. The lights looking yellow. You feel so fast—look how quick you can run. Run towards the Red Door that Adler so desperately wants and maybe this can stop. Ah, why is it running away from you? What’s going on?

I don’t know about you, but I was so lost and confused at what was going on my first playthrough. For the majority of this mission, the possibility of me being brainwashed didn’t reach the BACK of my mind till probably I actually saw the flashes of scenes about Vietnam and calling Bell a subject. So like right here.

I personally thought that I had a repressed memory or something due to me going through the Vietnam War. That whatever I saw with Perseus, I—or rather Bell—repressed it from our mind due to how violent or horrible what we saw or experienced was. And that Adler suspected and just really wanted to know about it.

I didn’t expect for the man to actually brainwash my character—us—Bell! The game made Adler your mentor, who always defended you from Hudson and believed in your skills very highly. How he and Bell were basically perfect partners when the two of you were together.

It’s amazing—cause I think that’s what the developers were going for. The absolute trust. The loyalty. The denial that ‘maybe Adler is being a little harsh but hey, this is to help Perseus so it’s okay?’ It’s perfect. Because I’m sure that is what Bell actually felt in real time.

Yet, if you go through the total rebellious choice of not listening to Adler, some thing’s make sense. The Rebellious Side shows you way more than if you just listen to Adler like a Dutiful Soldier.

You go through this room if you choose the rebellious route, the T.V.’s automatically turning on the closer you get. Of Vietnam. And now, all those T.V.‘s that turned on by themselves(the Red Room, Lubyanka, Cuba) make sense. You were actually being brainwashed. Poor Bell probably can’t ever have a turned off/broken T.V. again. The trauma.

Said trauma being shown multiple times too. Not just the T.V.‘s. But the absolute terror that Bell felt, before they became Bell, with Adler.

Like do you see this? This terrified me when I saw it at the end of the hallway. I just saw a red shadow in the distance and I legit thought I was about to be chased. Call of Duty became a horror game(I also went through the door to the ground too my first playthrough, so before this I went through zombies and I think my heart was going to jump out my chest) I thought. I didn’t want to get closer. I had to, with each step I see that it’s not a shadow but a body. And than I see the familiar jacket, the sound of whirring in my ears and see it’s Adler’s head being twisted back and forth, side to side, up and down, in a speed that in inhumanely possible.

Makes one wonder if Bell themselves sees Adler as inhumane. Not human. Adler seeming to just be a god in their head. All the Adler shaped rocks/boulders you go through and see. Even one point the V.C. becoming Adler and you killing him over and over and dead bodies of Adler being everywhere.

The man has entered Bell’s head and won’t leave. Just like Adler won’t leave Bell alone.

Heck, there’s one point in my playthroughs of this mission I was by the bridge yet there were parts of the lab by it. I jumped towards it, noticing down below there were different floors of the lab that eventually reach the ground. I jumped to reach the next floor and missed and I died.

And Adler mocked Bell committing suicide.

That was the kicker really that Adler truly is indifferent towards Bell. Like complete disregard. I know it’s fake. We know it’s fake. Adler knows it’s fake—but to Bell, it felt real. That’s the crazy part. All of this—this whole sequence feels real to Bell so each time they die they actually feel it. It’s insane. It’s cruel.

But we all know that Adler isn’t known for his kindness. Still like his character though, he’s layered.

I don’t have the exact quote he said, didn’t wrote it down like the others. I was shook he said it at all.

Moving on to the final details I’m going to talk about.

When you go through the room, I believe this comes out for both rebellious and dutiful, really depends. You see it filled with post it notes, articles, plans, and newspapers. And you see once more just how Bell has been scarred.

I don’t know Russian or German, but I imagine the notes are similar to what the English one’s say. If I’m wrong, please point it out.

There’s also post it notes which I believe is in code as well due to all the numbers—I’m not sure what those could mean since I am no decoding expert.

Poor poor Bell. And with all these pictures and plans—of Adler included—it begs the question that Bell may have been warned about the famous America’s Monster beforehand. Had to have—since Adler is basically Perseus’s adversary due to how stubborn the American man could be. It just adds more to the story, despite Cold War having quite a short campaign, they made it up somewhat with all these details everywhere.

When you finally and actually reach the room.

As you grow closer to the table, to your chair in the conference room while everyone else seems to have their own spots, there’s something I noticed.

There’s glasses. As well as a hat. And it’s Bell’s. Or at least, it used to be. Why else is it on their side of the table? By their chair? I believe it might be reading glasses due to all the decryptions Bell does, whether on paper or through a computer, it’s hard on the eyes. (I’m sure I’m not the only one who noticed this. For look at @second-vtoroy ‘s Bell)

I believe through the brainwashing, Bell might not need glasses anymore. After all, apparently they were a smoker like Adler before too but they took that out of you. What else they changed of Bell? It makes one wonder how far they truly went into molding a person.

Which just adds onto how mind boggling this mission is—this game is. This is my favorite COD game, despite how short it is. The details and choices and interactions with everyone and able to create your own character(albeit it’s very standard and not specific but it’s good enough for me) is AMAZING. I’ve always been a sucker for RPG’s and able to get that even a little in a COD game? Truly wonderful.

I couldn’t touch on everything because it would’ve gotten long, but the fun of the Break on Through mission never gets old. It’s genius multiple ways you can do it. All the details. The feelings you feel as a player as you go through it.

They truly did a unique job with this and I hope they continue with this type of game storytelling. Hopefully longer as well.

Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this rant basically!

Gifs made by me and used the video down below to help.

https://youtu.be/t6QkmkGGHSQ

#russell adler #call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #call of duty cold war #cod cold war #cod bell #cod analysis #cod:bocw #call of duty analysis #bell call of duty #Adler and Bell #Cold War

[specialagentsergio]

rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

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

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #i just cannot stop myself from writing about mental health issues and treatment can i

[tteokdoroki]

awake with you | s.todoroki

♡ pairing: shoto todoroki x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 1.7K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: ua student!au, angst, comfort, fluff.

♡ summary: during the night, bad things happen but your boyfriend is always there to keep them away. by your side always, shoto todorki makes it his mission to fight your demons and make sure you know that you’re loved.

♡ warning(s): please read ! character death, mentions of car accidents, nightmares, guilt, lack of sleep, but a lot of fluff and the best boyfriend in the whole world :(

♡ author’s note(s): guys! it’s shoto’s birthday, so here i am postiing this shoto request from anon a while back, i hope you all enoy and have celebrating the beautiful boy’s bday <3

♡ masterlist | requests

it was hard for you to sleep.

harder, when shoto wasn’t around.

sometimes it was your thoughts that kept you up; late at night— dark thoughts that swirled around in your head and slowly poisoned your brain with heavy black venom. it was hard to sleep when your mind was heavy with fear, but ever since dating shoto todoroki; those nights became easier and sleep wasn’t so hard to come by.

you weren’t so sure what it was about your boyfriend that made it easier for you to get some shut eye; it’s not like he really knew either. todoroki just didn’t like seeing you in pain, the way your face twisted with discomfort or the way sleepy tears would wet your cheeks under the moonlight— but you had somewhat of an idea, that his fresh peppermint smell and warm arms are what often helped you.

shoto would so lovingly sneak into your room, no matter the time, dusk or dawn— he would hold you tight under the sheets until you drifted off to dream land. even if it meant being teased by the others for stumbling out of your room in the morning, his pretty hair a wild mess creating the image that’d you’d both been up to no good, he’d face it all for you, over and over again.

but tonight, your loving, caring and doting boyfriend was nowhere to be seen— everyone’s second internships had begun and todoroki had chosen to work with his father along with izuku and katsuki, so it was no doubt that they wouldn’t be home until late. what with endeavour being the number one and all.

your friends knew about your struggles to sleep, of course, todoroki bluntly mentioning how you ‘like to sleep together’ to soothe your nightmares ( iida had lectured you about it after, saying it was inappropriate while deku and ochako turned as red as your boyfriend’s hair ) so offered to stay up with you— but you needed rest, today’s training sessions  having taken a toll on your body, and wave them off with a smile laced with tiredness.

you could call him, he wouldn’t mind and you know it— but he’s with his father and that takes enough out of him as it is.

you decide, instead, to trudge to the dual quirked boy’s bedroom, instantly calmed by his sweet peppermint scent embedded into every inch of his dorm. you swipe one of his clean sweaters straight from the closet before hitting the lights and snuggling into his bed.

tonight would be fine, todoroki would come home, wrap you in his arms and with the aid of his scent surrounding you— you would sleep safe and soundly.

is what you hoped as you drifted off to the land of dreams.

when you were younger, you watched your older brother, haru, get hit by a car.

the scene haunts you to this very day, crawling up on you while you rest at night— choking you out in your dreams. you see it now, feet glued to the ground as you’re forced to watch the younger version of you, mess with your older brother using your new found quirk. your parents had called it scenery, back then your powerful quirk had been their pride and joy, giving you the ability to create a mirage in a certain targets mind— make them see things that weren’t really there.

back then it was fun to play tricks on your sibling— you made haru see all of his worst nightmares, everything but the road.

everything but the oncoming car.

everything but his untimely death.

you want to scream at little you— tell her to stop and that it’s not funny anymore as she forces your brother back into the road— he’s giggling, he doesn’t know it yet and neither do you. but the words you want to say die down deep in your throat, suffocating you from the inside although they burn at your lungs to burst through.

why cant you speak? why cant you stop her?

adrenaline trickles into your blood stream as you will yourself to run out into the street and protect haru from the oncoming traffic just as he slips off of the sidewalk. your senses are blown out of the water, static noise filling your ears and intertwining with childish screams and the sound of a not so distant honking horn.

you claw harshly at your throat. speak. save him. for god’s sake; do something.

“you’ll kill him! stop! you’re going to kill him!”

the flickering of artificial, yellow light behind your closed eyes has you jolting awake, sweat forming at your brow and hands clenched tightly around your boyfriend’s plain bedsheets. your gaze darts across the room while your heart thumps loudly in your ribcage from the fear that struck you in your dream and finally, your stare settles on a shirtless, bewildered shoto todoroki. his face is a little scratched up no doubt from being on his father’s patrol and he looks exhausted but that doesn’t stop the concern he has for you taking over his expression. “yn—?”

“s-sho,” you hate how your voice caves so easily, the single syllable of your nickname for him falling wetly from chapped lips. todoroki is by your side in an instant, not caring that he’s only half dressed and half awake. he’ll deal with that later.

with tender hands shoto cups the back of your head, letting you sink into the warmth of his flesh. you reach out for your boyfriend and he’s there, taking your free hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze to help ground you. “love, what happened? why didn’t you call? you know i don’t mind—” his timbre voice fills your ears like warm honey, calming your rapid breathing but all you can do is shake your head.

“nightmare ‘n you were working,” you pant, cutting him off while the death grip on your lover’s hand begins increasing. you feel so far from the ground, the scene of haru’s death dancing across your mind. “i killed him, again—“

shoto watches your body twitch with fear and your usually glimmering eyes gloss over in away that makes him feel sick. you’re not here with him yet, still tangled up in the black string of your bad dreams. the world around the dual eyed boy begins to change and it seems you’ve activated your quirk by accident— showing him scenes of the day your brother died.

you screw your eyes shut as flashes of his body tangle with reality to the point where you don’t know what’s real and what’s not. you’re losing control of yourself so easily, fresh sets of tears stinging their way down your streaked cheeks. trapped. you feel trapped like a bird in a cage even while you’re awake and the sounds of cars and screaming burn at your ears once more.

make it stop, please.

“yn... come back to me love, i’m right here,” todoroki’s calm voice cuts through the suffocating song of death, dragging you back to reality while the effects of your quirk drift away. his fingers, although contrasting temperatures, now cup your cheeks to tilt your face towards him so that your eyes lock with his under the crescent moon. “you didn’t kill him. that wasn’t you. it wasn’t your fault.”

you blink away more tears like a helpless child, chest heaving but todoroki doesn’t give up. “but—“

“no.” your boyfriend says softly, yet sternly, leaning down to place an eskimo kiss to your nose. your eyes flutter shut at his simple gesture, although it raises saftey and warmth across your body— black radiates behind your closed eyelids, no longer plagued broken bones and blood. it’s easy to keep breathing from there, focusing on that as todoroki pulls you into his lap and the sheets fall away from your body.

“no,” you repeat back to him while shoto’s arms settle on your waist and his familiar scent of fresh peppermint fills your senses. “not my fault.”

it wasn’t your fault, that day the car had come speeding down a usually safe road in a residential area. the accident was a hit and run, but being a child made you feel every ounce of the blame. shaking the thought away you curl into your lover’s chest, listening for sounds of his heartbeat while he toys with a lose string on his sweater— the one you wear.

“that’s right, good girl...not your fault, here with me yet, love?”

when you glance up, todoroki is looking right back down at you— brows creased with worry but there’s love in his stare, overwhelming amounts that make you hum into his bare chest, grounded by the feeling of his skin against yours. “present and accounted for,” his chest rumbles with relieved laughter, soothing you even more. “thank you, sho. i’m sorry for making you do this so late at night.”

this time, shoto shakes his head— sending locks of red and white flying. “don’t thank me and don’t apologise,” his words are feather light in the dark while he manoeuvres you both onto his back to settle into bed. you’re about to mention that he’s still half in his suit, but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care, already closing his eyes. “i’m yours, your boyfriend and i’m going to support you no matter what. i’ve got you, okay? you’re always here for me so i’ll do my best to do the same for you. what kind of man would i be if i wasn’t?”

“a very unmanly man,” you tease with a kitten like yawn, already feeling the confines of a more comfortable sleep, taking over.

todoroki rolls his eyes but pulls you closer to him anyways. “you’ve been spending too much time with kirishima.”

“at least i don’t spend everyday working with bakugou, now that’s true nightmare.” you counter, narrowly missing a pinch to the side from your boyfriend.

the pair of you sleep soundly that night, wrapped in each other’s arms. you feel safe, knowing that nothing could ever harm you, as long as you were with him. shoto todoroki would give anything for to you to have a goodnight’s rest. no matter what. even if it meant staying awake with you and being late to patrol with endeavour the next day.

not like he cared, he hated his dad anyway.

#tteokdoroki #shouto todoroki #todoroki shouto #bnha smut #bnha fanfic #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki imagine #todoroki smut #todoroki fluff #todoroki angst #todoroki fanfic #todoroki fanfiction #todoroki headcanons #todoroki scenario #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x you #shouto todoroki smut #shouto todoroki fluff #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x you #todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shouto fluff #mha x reader #mha x you #mha fluff #mha smut #bnha x reader #mha fanfic #bnha x you

[severelytalentless]

Chemistry Part 1

FlirtyFuckboy!Gojo x VirginLabPartner!Reader

I have the fattest crush on this idiot. This is mostly me fantasizing about interacting with him in college. I'm obsessed.

Probably going to keep this going. Maybe get Suguru involved later.

18+ Content: sexual scenarios and strong language, sexual harassment?, exhibitionism, teasing, dirty talk, dubcon, fingering

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(swoon - beach weather)

"Gojo, please. We have to focus." you plead with him, exhausted, as he plays around on his phone. The stick of his lollipop rolls around to the other side of his mouth. He shoots you a sideways glance over those trendy shades and smirks.

"Do you have a mouse in your pocket?" his eyes track down the scrolling screen in his hands.

"What?" you furrow your brow in confusion. You don't have the energy for his games right now. What is he on about?

"You said WE need to focus," he leans the chair back onto two legs, kicking his feet up on the table, "who is we? You and the mouse?" his nose wrinkles as he snickers to himself. His snarky grin is giving you a headache.

You huff and fix your glasses back on your nose.

This is absolutely pointless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When your chemistry professor pulled you aside after class, you expected to chat about your senior thesis. Instead, he all but got down on his knees and begged you to work with Gojo on the midterm lab.

"I have no one else for him." You groaned and turned away.

"That's not my headache." You stuffed books into your bag, ready to leave this conversation.

"Listen, I know he's a bit troublesome but if you just-"

"Troublesome? A bit troublesome? Really, professor?" he sighed at the look you gave him.

"Y/N, can you please just do me this favor? You owe me for pushing that late submission through last trimester." he's still holding that over your head?

"Oh come on! That's nowhere close to a fair trade." You have too much going on right now to have Satoru Gojo dropped onto your plate.

He crossed his arms, "I've already paired everyone up."

You scowled at him and threw your bag over your shoulder.

"He's yours."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You look at your watch. 8:30pm. Jesus.

"That's it." You drop your pen into the spine of your textbook. He raises his eyebrows as you push back your chair and stand up.

"Wai-wait, where are you going?" He watches you let your hair fall out of the bun on top of your head and you walk out of the library study room without another word.

You run your fingers through your hair and sigh, releasing your frustration. You have a long list of problems in your life and he will not be making that list tonight.

"Not so fast tiger" he strides up beside you out of nowhere. You roll your eyes and keep walking.

"Where we goin'?"

"I need coffee."

"Oh, when did this become a date?" he straightens the collar of his button-down and puffs out his chest.

'Insufferable' you keep your mouth shut. You refuse to react, turning the corner towards the library cafe.

"Slow down babe" he pops the sucker out of his mouth and takes a couple big steps with those freakishly long legs to catch up to you.

"Not your babe." Your face feels hot.

"You could be.." he leans forward and flashes you a flirty grin as you walk side by side up to the counter.

"Ugh" you scoff and shoo him away, stepping up to order. He clears his throat and nudges in front of you.

"Yes! Good evening, I'll have a large hot chocolate with extra whip," he gestures to you, "and for the pretty lady?" you glare at him.

"...macchiatto, double shot, please." You turn and spit fire at him, "this is not a date, jackass."

He smugly whips his card from his wallet, "And yet, I'm paying for your coffee.." The wink he throws at you is lethal.

There's no way he isn't pleased by the blush in your cheeks. You try to convince yourself that it's the rage...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You just cannot stand him. Always disrupting class with stupid jokes. Erupting into obnoxious laughter out of nowhere in the back with his buddies. His whole devil-may-care attitude might pull other girls, but there's no way you have any feelings for this idiot other than irritation.

You've seen him in action all over campus. Tickling some little freshman under the chin outside the dining hall, making her giggle and flip her hair. Another poor clueless girl falling headfirst into his trap. You roll your eyes and go about your business. You don’t need any of that from him. You have purposely kept your distance for the last 3 years, doing your best to stay off his radar.

That didn't stop him from trying to peek under your skirt last week in lab. You were leaning over the table, reaching up for a beaker. You didn't notice him tilting back in his chair to lift the fabric with his finger until Suguru snorted out a squashed laugh. You whipped around and swatted at his hand. He shook his fingers and sucked his teeth,

"Ouch..I was just lookin’ honey..wasn't gonna touch.." that nasty little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"GOJO. GETO. Knock it off!" Your professor barked from his desk, hearing the laughter.

"Sorry teach! She just looks so cute in this skirt today." He called out with absolutely no shame, eyes trained on your flustered face,

"GOJO! That's enough."

“really fuckin’ cute..” he added under his breath, rolling his lollipop on his tongue.

You'd never been so embarrassed. You flipped back around and snatched the beaker, holding the back of your skirt down, before rushing to the other side of the lab bench. Your cheeks burned through the rest of class. You will not be wearing that skirt to lab again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stares after you. Your hair sways back and forth as you strut down the hall away from him. It brushes just shy of your belt loop. He bites down on his lollipop watching the way your hips swing.

You’re so fucking hot when you're mad...

He hums a groan under his breath and jogs to catch up.

"Okay stop.." He grabs your icy shoulder to try and slow your roll. You sip your coffee and shrug his hand off, you don’t even look at him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I know I tease you too much.” You’re not buying it. Gojo is many things, but sincere isn’t one of them.

“Hey! I was just messing with you, you don’t have to be so-“ he trips a few steps past you when you stop dead, leaving him to spin back around.

“SO WHAT? So serious? So mean? Do you think I’m a bitch? How would you like me to act Gojo? HUH? What would please you? I’m not a little freshman play toy. I’ve had ENOUGH of your bullshit! We need to get back and get this fucking midterm done because I will NOT let you drag my grade down! Is that clear?!”

Your shoulders heave and your hands feel shaky from the cathartic release. That felt good. You’ve never raised your voice at someone like that. You tend to avoid confrontation, but he just brings the fire out of you. You glare at the open-mouthed dumbstruck look on his face.

Silence fills the hallway. He’s stunned. You’ve never seen him so still, or quiet. He finally shuts his mouth and you see his eyes flick to your left.

He moves toward you with a stern look on his face. Your stomach flips.

Is he mad? He’s never mad.

“Come with me.” He takes your arm.

“No, why?” You yank away and furrow your brows. He takes his hand off you and raises both in surrender. He lets out a heavy sigh, walks over, and opens the door to your left.

“Just come on.”

You stay put and examine him, weary of his change in demeanor. It’s not anger. Almost smells like defeat. You relent and pass through the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(drew barrymore - bryce vine)

You look around to find yourself in an unfamiliar, dimly lit area of the stacks. The school library is a labyrinth and you’ve never been in through this door before. The nearest light sits on a desk by the windows about 6 or 7 rows down.

You turn to see him placing his coffee cup in a gap on the shelf. You swallow hard, suddenly nervous and regretting the way you shouted at him. He doesn’t seem like himself. He steps forward and you step back, maintaining distance. You try to step back again but the shelves block you. You clutch your coffee as he gets closer than you’d like him to be.

“I’ve never heard you swear before.” His remark surprises you. He takes the cup from your hands and sets it on a shelf. His voice is hushed and you're not sure you like the way he's looking at you.

“Well you were pissing me off..” he’s in your personal space and you’re suddenly conscious of your breathing.

“Mm, that’s fair. Just didn’t know you used those kinds of words.” He gently teases you again and your face grows hot. You roll your eyes at him for the millionth time, trying to shake off this weird tension between you.

“Gojo, what are we doing in here?”

“You were making a scene.”

“I wasn’t, you just wouldn’t-“

“Have you ever been fucked?”

Your heart dives into your stomach.

His eyes flick down to your lips.

“I bet you haven’t.”

Is he messing with you again? This is outrageous.

“That’s none of your business.”

He clicks his tongue and drops his chin, leaning forward just a little more.

“Nah, I can tell. No one’s ever touched you.”

You hold your breath as his fingers ghost over the goosebumps on your arm. Sparks fly off your skin and your heart races around in your chest. His words tie a dirty little knot into your guts.

“Have you ever touched yourself?”

You huff at his audacity. Now he’s just being rude. He hums back and lightly bumps his hips into yours. You bump back into the stacks.

“Mhm, I bet you do it all the time. Does it make you feel good?”

Your eyes dart away to escape the intensity of his eye contact. He really has no shame. You see his grin widen out of the corner of your eye.

"D'you make yourself cum?"

Heat surges up into your face and down between your legs in the same instant. You try to hide it but you're completely flustered. He can see it all over your face. His cock throbs against his zipper, picturing you touching your own body.

His hand comes up by your head and he leans against the shelves, caging you in.

“Wonder what kind of pretty sounds you can make.” He just keeps going, you shift your weight, and flinch when his hand lands on your waist.

“What d'you think about with your fingers in your cunt?” Your eyes jump back to him at the vulgar words. He squeezes your waist and the little knot twists again. You pull a quick breath when he leans in next to your ear.

“D'you think about me?” He whispers too close, it triggers a wash of chills over your skin. Your walls tighten inside you. His hand starts sliding up the curve of your waist and slips under your shirt. Your exhale catches his ear as he cups your bra.

“Is that a yes?” He squeezes and his other hand moves to skate around your shoulder and under your hair. He blindly unclasps your bra through your shirt like he’s done it a thousand times. His fingers then quickly find their way to your nipples and start to play.

You bite hard into your lip to stifle your moan but he hears it in your throat. He smirks. This is your first time and it fucking shows.

“Your imagination ain’t enough, is it?”

His impish sneer wrinkles his nose and he bites down on the stick of his sucker before pulling it out of his mouth. Your mouth falls open with a sigh when he pinches a little harder and he drops it on your tongue. It’s cherry-flavored and you don’t think twice as you fold your lips around it.

Gojo likes what he sees.

“Pretty girl, I can think of so many things to do with that mouth.”

His knee nudges between your thighs and pushes up against your heat. You hum and your tongue curls around the lollipop. His hands leave your breasts to squeeze your hips and rock you on his thigh. You crunch down on the candy and grasp at his shirt at the sudden friction. Your breath comes out hot and you look up at him with big puppy eyes.

“You like that, hm?”

You nod automatically. Waves of pleasure radiate from your clit, and tug on the knot in your core. You drop your weight down onto him against your will.

What has gotten into you?

"D'you want me to play with you? Want me to show you how good this can feel?"

"Hng..ah.." he pushes into you, pressing you against the stacks. You paw at his shoulders to steady yourself as he adds even more pressure between your legs.

"There we go.." he sweeps your hair off your neck and his lips hit your skin. Electricity hums through your nerves.

"Ohh.." a hushed little moan rolls off your tongue. His hands slide back up under your shirt and continue groping your breasts.

"Such a frustrated little virgin.."

"Mmmh.." that moan came out a little louder, your whole body feels like it's resonating. He drags his tongue up your neck.

"I can fix that.."

It's just too much. Your head thumps back into the books.

"Oh my god.."

You've never felt anything this hot. It's similar to the times you've laid in bed exploring your own body, but this just feels so much better. You don't even care that it's him.

Maybe it's better because it is.

Gojo can’t believe the sounds you’re making for him. He’s finally caught his mouse and you aren’t even putting up a fight.

Little do you know, he's been simping over you since freshman year.

There’s something about you. The sweet innocence is there, but you also have this sharp little attitude that he just can't resist. The combination has always intrigued him.

And you don’t even realize what you do to him. You don't know how much you turn him on. He can't stand it when you walk into class wearing those overall shorts that hug your ass just right. That headband you wear is ridiculously sexy. And you’re so damn smart.

He daydreams in class about fucking you on every surface in the lab.

You’ve deflected every one of his advances, yet you always storm off with a flush in your cheeks. You’re the one thing he’s not allowed to touch. The toy on the shelf that he hasn’t been able to reach.

Until now.

"Don't play coy with me anymore," he whispers in your ear.

"Be honest. You liked it when I lifted your skirt last week, didn't you?"

You hum as he squeezes your ass.

"I saw those lacey little panties, y'know.."

He moves his thigh out from between your legs and you're embarrassed by the needy feeling that hits you. He looks at your desperate blushy face and grins.

"Are you wearing them right now?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You blink and he's already unzipped your fly. Your heart punches at your ribs when you feel his hand slide down inside. His fingers start rubbing into your slit through your panties and your entire body shudders. Your hands fly onto his forearm when he bumps into your clit. He pauses there and eats up the fervent arousal painted on your cute face.

“You can tell me to stop..” He knows you won’t. He keeps rubbing.

The sexual frustration is radiating off you like a heater.

He's so right. You’re dying to be touched like this.

Your mind is running in a hundred different directions, trying to decide what to do, but the way he's massaging your throbbing clit is melting your focus and dismantling your will.

He pushes in on your sensitive bud and you gasp, gripping his arm and shaking your head.

“Use your words, what d'you want me to do?” He rolls it around under his finger, pulsing pleasure through you like you've never felt before.

He bites the end of the stick hanging from your lips and takes it back. He rolls it to the corner of his smirk and waits for you to give in and answer him.

You know what you should do but the aching twist in your core won't let you.

“Mmph...don’t stop..”

“That's what I thought..”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

#jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo imagine #gojo fanfic #satoru gojo smut #gojo simp

[intheticklecloset]

Middle Seat (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

This idea was sooo cute and so much fun to write about! Thank you so much for the suggestion and your incredible patience, as this is the FINAL PROMPT I had to fill! I'm all caught up as of this fic! Thank you again, and enjoy! ^^

~

“Move it, nerd!” Bakugou shouted over his shoulder at Deku, who was hurrying to catch up. The bus that was going to take them to their off-campus training grounds for the day was about to leave, and they were the last two to leave the dorms. Everyone else had already boarded.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Deku panted, sprinting the last few steps to the doors, nearly bowling his friend over in the process.

Bakugou turned around and punched his arm. “Get a hold of yourself, idiot.”

“S-Sorry, Kacchan.”

Once on the bus, the two stood awkwardly for a moment, trying to find a place to sit. Most of the seats had been filled already – all but one in the back. Bakugou strode toward it and plopped himself down next to Todoroki, who had claimed the window. Deku wandered toward the back as well, hoping to find another open spot, but no such luck.

The bus started moving, making him lose his footing and nearly fall in the middle of the aisle.

Todoroki poked his head around Bakugou. “You can sit with us, Midoriya.”

“Like heck he can,” the blonde snapped. “You and I barely fit as it is.”

“Because you’re taking up so much room. Just move over.”

“I’m not getting all buddy-buddy with that loser.”

Todoroki huffed out a sigh. “Fine, then you take the window seat and I’ll sit next to him.”

Deku was about to suggest that he could just stay standing, but then he remembered this bus ride was supposed to be almost half an hour, and he didn’t want to stand up for that long. He also didn’t want to sit in the aisle. So he waited quietly while his two friends swapped places, Todoroki scooting over enough for Deku to mostly be able to share the seat.

“Thanks, Todoroki,” he murmured gratefully, offering a smile.

“Of course.”

Bakugou grunted, shoving an elbow into Todoroki’s side. “You’re squishing me, icy-hot.”

Todoroki grunted right back. “Deal with it.”

“Don’t tell me to deal with it.” The blonde grabbed onto his side with intention then, digging deep, forcing the half-and-half hero to let out a surprised squeal and jerk away from him, sending Midoirya into the aisle once more.

“Boys!” Aizawa snapped from the front of the bus. “You’d better not be fighting back there.”

“W-We’re not, Mr. Aizawa,” Deku called back. “We promise!”

“Move over,” Torodoki hissed, moving back to his previous position to allow Deku back onto the small bus seat with them. “It’s only a half an hour. Next time get onto the bus faster so you have a better seat.”

“You think I wanted to be late? This nerd is the reason I was running behind.”

“Why’s it my fault?” Deku protested.

“Guys, don’t do this now,” Todoroki grumbled, getting irritated with them both, “or this is going to be a long ride. Just try to get along, okay?”

Deku was content to do as Todoroki asked, but of course, Bakugou was not. He pinched the icy-hot’s side again. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Todoroki bit his lip to keep from squealing again, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Stop doing that. You know it tickles.”

“Yeah? Well, if it gets you to move over…” The blonde pinched him again.

Deku was nearly toppled into the aisle once more, but desperate not to fall out of his seat and incur Aizawa’s wrath, he did the only thing he could think of instead. He pinched Todoroki’s other side. “Kacchan, please just try to deal with it. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Bakugou jabbed his ribs. “And I don’t want to get flattened against the window.”

“The seat’s only so big.” Deku mirrored his friend’s actions. “We’ll just have to live with it.”

“G-Guys,” Todoroki huffed, giggling quietly into the palm of his hand. “S-Stop, that tickles!”

“Does it, now?” Bakugou smirked, seeking out his side with renewed purpose and vigor. “Guess it sucks you volunteered to sit in the middle then, huh?”

“Nohohoho!” Todoroki pleaded, giggles growing louder. He slapped his other hand over top of his first one. “Dohohohon’t!”

Deku smiled. This scene had quickly gone from frustrating to advantageous, and he was enjoying every second of it. “I’ve heard you’re really ticklish, Todoroki. Is that true?” He also drilled a bit harder now, aiming for his friend’s ribs.

Todoroki tried to fold himself over in an attempt to escape, having nowhere else he could really go. His giggling was becoming frantic. “Y-Yehehehes, it’s true! P-Plehehease don’t—”

Enjoying himself as well, Bakugou found the hollow of Todoroki’s underarm and scribbled, smirking when the half-and-half hero threw himself against the back of the seat, one hand trying to push him away while the other stayed clamped firmly over his mouth. Even so, his laughter was unmistakable.

“Wow, you really are ticklish!” Deku giggled, squeezing at his hip while aiming for his other underarm at the same time.

Todoroki was frantically stomping his feet on the floor now. “Plehehehehease dohohohohohon’t!” he cried, doing his best to keep his voice down and failing miserably. “Nohohohoho! It t-tihihihihihickles!”

“Heh. This may not be such a bad arrangement after all,” Bakugou observed, grabbing the hand that was covering Todoroki’s mouth and pulling it away, holding onto the wrist firmly. “Go on, let it out. Let the whole bus hear how ticklish you are.”

Todoroki let out a distressed whine. “No, plehehehehease, I’ll do ahahahanything! Just stohohop!”

Deku grabbed onto his other wrist and moved even further down to squeeze at his thigh, grinning all the while. Todoroki tossed his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth desperately against the flood of laughter that threatened to burst forth. He shook his head, struggling against his captors.

“Nohohohohoho, no – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Finally, he couldn’t hold back anymore, his hysterics unleashed in a wild screech of laughter, drawing the attention of everyone on the bus. “NO MOHOHOHOHOHOHORE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Several of their classmates cooed at him playfully.

“Aww, he’s ticklish!” said one of the girls.

One of the guys added, “Listen to that laugh! Dude, I’ve never seen him smiling so big.”

Todoroki was flushed with embarrassment, but he couldn’t stop laughing. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! MEHEHEHEHERCY!! GUHUHUHUYS!!”

“Get him, guys!” someone shouted.

“Tickle him good! He’s always so serious.”

“You could take it a little easier though, maybe?”

Deku observed Todoroki carefully, worried he might be distressed about this situation. To his surprise, he found that his friend actually seemed to be enjoying himself, despite the dark red blush on his cheeks.

“Well, would you listen to that?” Bakugou teased, lifting his arm above his head. “They want more laughter!”

“Tickle, tickle,” Deku dared to tease, blushing a little himself.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Todoroki begged, shaking his head, kicking the floor. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, I CAHAHAHAHAN’T!! IT TIHIHIHIHICKLES!! MEHEHEHEHEHERCY!!”

“Tch, whatever, icy-hot.” At last Bakugou let him be, and Deku followed his lead. “Just be thankful we can’t reach your feet like this.”

Another chorus of coos went up from their classmates, along with some scattered applause and general shouts of encouragement.

Todoroki groaned and sank down in his seat, blushing furiously but still smiling wide.

“You okay?” Deku asked him.

He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” Then, with an added giggle, he covered up his face. “I’m so ticklish. It’s almost unfair.”

Bakugou scoffed. “At least you like it.”

Deku and Todoroki both looked at him. “But…don’t you like it, too?”

“Shut up!”

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #izuku #midoriya #deku #katsuki #bakugou #kacchan #shoto #todoroki #icyhot #bus ride #middle seat #cute #fluff #playful #teasing #friends #tickling #ticklish #tickle