#and it's annoying because like. the nerve

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 1.5]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: There is a little, annoying human trapped in this bay with him. And he's going to eat them. (Vil's POV)

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3]

There was a little, raggedy human staring up at him from the sand, and Vil had never felt so miserably persecuted in all his years.

The thing had been bound to him in a mess of ropes and frantic, bipedal flailing, and he’d honestly thought that it had drowned. Hoped that it had drowned. But no, apparently he couldn’t be quite so lucky. None of his pod’s raids had ever gone so terribly, and normally he was better able to keep his head about him. But it had been Epel’s first attempt at sneaking on board one of the grand, creaking, human vessels, and maybe he’d been a touch concerned about it. Like a fretting parent sending their guppy off to the deep for their first solo-swim. And perhaps he’d struck a bit too quick and sharp when he saw things headed South. Not taking the normal care he would to assess for traps, or weapons, or stupid humans and their equally stupid, fraying ropes.  

But none of that mattered. It was hardly a crime to want to protect your family. It had happened, that was the end of it. There was no changing things. And now he was here. In this cove. With that thing.

You pedaled backward in the sand like those two legs of yours hardly worked at all, and even though it looked like you were retreating (rightfully so, at least you were smart enough to realize this was a lost battle), Vil still bared his teeth in a challenge. Because he was angry, and sore, and at the moment you were the cause of every, single one of his problems in the world. He tossed his tail in the surf, splattering stinging bits of ice water into your face.

“Stop! Stop!” you squawked, wheeling away like he was dousing you in acid rain rather than a bit of pissy water warfare. “I get it! I won’t come near you, jeesh! I wasn’t planning on it to begin with!”

“Of course you weren’t,” he spat. “From the looks of you, you don’t plan much of anything at all.”

You didn’t respond to his scathing insult, only kept scooting yourself back against the sand on legs that still apparently refused to work. Or maybe you’d simply forgotten about them. You seemed like you could be the type.

He ground his talons into the damp sand at his hips and felt the ridges of the fins along his spine prickling tight and painful, trying to puff out in a predatory display that they simply couldn’t because he was still bound in the godforsaken rope.

“I don’t know what your little plan was,” he hissed, “but you’ve done both of us a disservice. And while I’m sure you’re used to disappointment, I am not going to tolerate this.”

More silence. You looked—not confused, per se. But definitely not particularly keen on following his very justified rant against your person. Your gaze kept darting from his vicious glare, to his claws digging up the shoreline, and then to his lips. He could see your own mouth moving a bit alongside his, like you were trying to echo the shape of the insults flying off his tongue.

“Listen here, you fleshy rat,” he snapped, jabbing a black talon in your direction. “You’re going to tell me the course that your ridiculous ship had set so that I can return to my pod at once. Do you understand? And if you’re lucky, I won’t crawl my way up there to bite off your fingers one by one. How’s that sound?”

You blinked back at him with no comprehension, like his marvelous depiction of having your bones gnawed on for snacks just wasn’t a vivid enough picture.

The rage in his chest bubbled bright and hot, and the age-old magics in his veins zipped through his blood like a stroke of lightening.

Insolent brat.

Fine. He’d make you listen then.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you said, and oh, you were a nuisance. He was going to rip your nerves out from the depths of your useless, human limbs. Feast on your bones until the marrow had been picked clean and leave the scraps for the gulls—

He parted his lips and sang loud and sharp—letting that familiar lull roll off his tongue like the sweetest poison. His Call had always been the strongest in his pod, after all. That’s why it was his job to keep them safe, to ensure that no one was lost in a hunt that was meant to be so simple just because they couldn’t keep their purple-headed curiosity under wraps long enough to not to be caught—

Vil turned his sneer back your way, fully prepared to see you kowtowed before him with your nose buried in the sand. And—

You were just sitting there. Butt in the muck and just as wide-eyed and brainless as before. Staring back at him with a startled sort of expression on your face and nothing else. Normally there was a sort of tether between him and his victims. A call, an answer. Simple principles. And while he could never see the tangible net of his influence tightening around their brains, he could always sense it. Or at least something like it. But this time, there was just… nothing.

Vil snarled, swallowing around the spiky pinch of something in his gut that he refused to call panic, and canted his head back to sing louder.

The shallow dregs of the cove rippled at his hips with the force of it, and he could feel the swell of his influence curling out further and further. Digging its claws into anything and everything it could reach. He could feel one tether spooling out and grabbing after the other, feel the familiar pull of subservience from the very sea itself. And—

“I can’t hear you!”

Oh, you mocking piece of—

He widened his mouth until his jaw was creaking and his tongue was going numb from the sharp bursts of arcana snapping from throat.

“It’s not a challenge!” you wailed, hands cupped over your mouth to try and shout over his howling song. “My ears literally, actually, do not work, you fucking overgrown anchovy!”

His mouth fell closed all at once, the Call cutting off so abruptly that the returning wave of snapping magics almost made his head spin. The power of it hung along his nerves like the zipping prickle of electric eels, and the water at his hips churned and bubbled.

“There,” you huffed, like someone who’d just been horribly inconvenienced by a gust of wind ruining their hair, rather than a human bearing the full weight of a siren’s fury. Brushing off some of the most powerful magics in the ocean like it was nothing worse than a bit of sand in your trousers. It was… unnerving. And it had something uneasy curdling in Vil’s stomach.

He dug his claws into the sand, fins flaring along his sides in a defensive display before he could help himself. Your eyes tracked the way the muck gave way beneath his talons and he watched your throat bob. Good. You should be afraid of him. Because he refused to be afraid of a human like you. No matter how the hair at his nape prickled or the fins at his ears pinned against the sides of his head.

“Well…” you said after a long moment, awkward and stiff. “I should get going, I suppose.”

And then you were stumbling your way to your feet to venture deeper into the crags of the small island. Vil smacked his tail against the surf, loud and sharp. A plaintive ‘good, begone,’ if ever there was one. But you didn’t even flinch, let alone turn around to witness his grand ‘fuck you.’ He wasn’t sure why he was expecting you to.

He watched you crawl your way up a mess of boulders and old shells, eyes narrowed and that same, unpleasant prickle running through his nerves. Once you were well and truly out of sight, he returned to his fins and started doing all he could to assess the damage. The sooner he could deal with this setback and set out into the depths of the ocean, the sooner he could return to his pod. And the sooner he’d be away from you, and all your strange, human ways.

.

.

You returned maybe an hour later, only a few minutes after he’d given up on trying to pick the horrid mess of twine from the wounds along his tail. His claws weren’t made for such delicate work, and the poisoned tips of them weren’t doing his shredded fins any favors.

He turned on you with a snarl that would have sent any other sentient creature scurrying for cover, fins pinned and canines on full display. But apparently you had less self-preservation than even the brainless, teeny, rock crabs burrowing hurriedly into the sand.    

“Hello,” you said. Like that was any way appropriate.

“Get lost,” he snarled.

You nodded back, simple and sage, and then pointed to the mess of your ropes twined along his fins.

“I can get that off if you promise not to eat me.”

Vil sneered and surged forward to scrape his claws through the muck again, hoping his demonstration of what he would do to your face if you stepped near him was clear enough to get through your head.

“Touch me and you’ll be lucky if all I do is eat you.”

You blinked back, and he watched the way your eyes jumped across his expression. Trailed to his mouth, his brow, his teeth. Reading whatever you could see there. And then you shrugged again, unbothered by his spitting threats as before.

“Alright. Your loss, I suppose.”

There was a keenness to your gaze though, a sharp, pointed consideration that had his hackles rising all over again.

“If you think that you can be rid of me that easily, you’re solely mistaken,” he spat, smacking his fins into the shallows until the water was churning wild and angry. “This is all your fault, and whatever ridiculous plot you’re considering, I’ll gladly return it tenfold.”

Your face pinched like you had any right to be annoyed by this at all, and then promptly turned away from him like you’d lost all interest in his theatrics. You meandered around the shore, scooping up the battered remains of some of the fish that had stranded themselves during his failed Call. Then you sat yourself well away from the water’s edge and pulled a knife from your boot, running it along the fish’s scales and clearing out the muck.

“Thanks for the food!” you chirped petulantly, making long, pointed, eye contact as you did so. Like that little blade of yours was supposed to be any sort of a threat. Perhaps he could use it to pick the leftover bits of you out of his teeth.

Vil turned up his nose and returned to carefully grooming the shredded ends of his fins.

“You’re an obnoxious brat,” he growled, wincing as his claws caught over a frayed patch of scales and began to bleed all over again. “And I’m going to drown you.”

Naturally, you did not respond.

.

.

The rope burned, and he knew he wasn’t helping himself. The twine of it was frayed, poor quality. And combined with the tacky, salt-sticky damp of the waves, it made the worst sort of web. Vil threw himself around in the shallows like a pup stuck in their first net. And he knew—knew—this wasn’t going to make things better. But the more he worked to free himself and the less progress he made, the angrier he got (Not afraid, angry. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t).

A tight bit of fibers snagged along the delicate mesh of the fins at his hips and gave a shrieking riiip that had him collapsing into the sand bed with a bitten off noise that he refused to call a gasp. But Sevens, it did hurt. He pressed his face into the shallow pool of warm water beneath his chin and forced his breath to calm, to dig his claws into the grit beneath him rather than his own scales. Because this wasn’t working. And he—he needed to fix it. On his own. Because he was on his own. And he was going to manage, just like he always had.

There was a noise off on the shore—the tumbling of pebbles against stone as you shifted around in your little, makeshift hideaway. And he refused to look up to meet your gaze. Because surely you were staring. Humans were always so happy to watch his kind suffer, flailing about in their traps and bound in nets like a garish display. And he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he’d been seen like… like this.

So he forced himself to go still and silent, ignoring the pain biting into his sides like the teeth of a shark and the panicked, clawing thing in his gut that kept screaming that he was going to die here.

.

.

The next morning, you were wandering the shoreline, scrounging after the remains of various crabs from the day prior. Vil refused to look at you, and spent the time pointedly running his claws through the tangles in his hair and primping himself like he didn’t have a care in the world. Because if a stupid, lowly human fit for nothing but an after-dinner-snack could thrive in these circumstances, than surely he could do even better.

There was the soft, wet sounds of your footsteps behind him, and Vil turned on you with a roaring snarl—fins pinned and spines perked, defensive.

“What?” he snapped, beating his tail.

You awkwardly held up one your pickings—a round, red crab with fat claws.

“I don’t know if you all eat fish or whatever, but…”

Vil fought the urge to gawk. Were you offering him one of—but why would you—

He bit through his surprise with another sneer. “Firstly, crabs are crustaceans, not fish. You’d think any self-respecting creature that spent their days on the ocean would know something as obvious as that. Secondly, why would you even think that I would share a meal with you? Even I didn’t think humans could be that stupid, but you’re certainly setting a new bar.”

Your mouth twitched at his very sharply enunciated ‘stupid’ and he fought a smirk.

“Oh. Know that one, do you?” he cooed, all mocking.

“Look, do you want it or not?” you snapped, irritated, and his fins flared up again—wide and defensive.

Vil crossed his arms on an exaggerated, pointed huff and turned in the other direction. A clear dismissal. “I’d rather starve.”

“Whatever,” you griped, voice canted sharp with your foul temper, and then there was a crack and a yelp.

Vil turned back to see you reeling away, hand over your mouth to catch a mix of blubbering, wincing curses and a shattered crab shell clenched between your fingers in the most obvious show of stupidity he’d perhaps ever seen. He burst out into laughter before he could help himself, and you stormed away with warm cheeks and pieces of jagged, red shell still clinging to the corners of your lips.

.

.

That night he fought the ropes even harder, ignoring the way they pulled, and tore, and dug into places that he knew they should not. And maybe it was self-destructive, stupid, but if he didn’t get himself free of this horrible mess his fins would never heal. He’d never be able to swim properly again. And he’d never be able to leave this cove, never return to his pod, his family. Never—

A shell walloped him in the back of the head and Vil turned with a shriek so vicious it nearly startled even him. Because there you were—the bane of his existence. Standing at the edge of the water with that ridiculous, deadpan look on your ridiculous face and already scrounging about in the sands like you were looking for something else to throw at him. He didn’t even know what he was screaming at that point, absolutely brought over the edge in rage, and pain, and fear, and it was all. your. faul—

Then something in your expression snapped and you were storming forward towards the surf—absolutely incensed.

“Look, fish face! You were the one who attacked me! You!” you shrieked, stomping in the sand and nearly pinning the longer, trailing ends of his fins beneath your heels. “So stop acting like I’m some scheming shithead who was planning to trap you like this from the start!”

“You trapped me!” he howled, outraged. “You were going to kill a member of my pod! Who’s barely out of his pup days! And he was my responsibility, and you were going to attack him!”

Magic zipped along his tongue, demanding that you kneel. Show your throat and be done with it. But when you just kept glaring back—absolutely stone-faced and seething with indignation—Vil forced himself to take a breath, and then another.

“Epel,” he spat, low and exaggerated. He saw your eyes flicker to his lips, trace the outline of the word. “Epel,” he said again, sharp and angry. And when your own mouth began to subconsciously follow the shape of it, he was off and running again. “He’s my responsibility. Epel. He—” Vil pointed at the pale, lavender creases at the base of his fins. “His hair is like this. You saw him. You spoke to him. And you were going to tie him up just like you did to me.”

Your eyes narrowed, sharp.

“That kid,” you said after a moment, lips twisting in a frown. “You attacked me because of Purple Head?!”

“Epel,” Vil spat again, smacking his fins into the surf to douse you in a mess of seawater. “Not some kid. A pup. Barely of age. And you were going to—”

“You—” you hissed, scrubbing the salt from your eyes with the back of your hand. “He was still attacking us first! He was going after my friend!” you snapped, kicking your own wave back. It splattered along Vil’s hips, barely a sprinkling in comparison to his own tidal waves. “You don’t get to act all noble and protective, and like any of that makes any difference when you all were going to eat us!”

Vil snarled, and the twist of it left a bitter, rotten taste on his tongue. It wasn’t the same. It didn’t matter what you wanted, because you were just some human. Humans were vile, and cruel, and good for nothing but filling their bellies. And this was his family. So what if you claimed you were just standing up for your own brood? It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t.

So he turned back to dive into the shallows with as much force as his aching, crippled fins could manage. Sinking to the bottom of the cove in a huff of bubbles and clawing his way through the muck until he was well and truly hidden in the murky, sandy depths. He smacked his tail against the mess of pebbles and rocks until every creature beneath was scurrying for safety—fleeing outwith the flailing, destructive force of a Siren’s tantrum.

Was that why he was here, then? Bound and gagged on some hellhole of an island because of his own mistakes? Because you’d just been aligning yourself with the moral high ground he’d been riding this whole time? Saving your kin at the cost of your own, fragile skin. Dragged overboard to fight the monsters trying to devour your family whole. Ridiculous. He wasn’t going to let himself feel bad for the slighted prey in a hunt gone wrong. Sharks certainly didn’t regret the fish they chased, nor did the great black-and-white whales that pursued those sharks in turn. This was just the way of things, the circle of life. And he wasn’t going to feel guilty about the tight, protectivelook on your face as you shouted him down about defending your own pod at all.

.

.

You were curled up by the same rock the next morning, sleeping soundly against the rough hewn edge. It looked hideously uncomfortable, with your chin tucked up against your chest and your head pressed against half-a-dozen layered, jagged ridges. Vil had always heard that humans were used to luxury—soft, plush blankets made of foreign fabrics and great, stuffed squares of bedding that could put even the finest woven siren nests to shame. And there you were. Scrunched up with a shell clearly embedded in your cheek.

He frowned, fins rippling awkwardly at his sides where the majority were still knotted up in twine.

He needed to leave this cove. As soon as possible. And get away from… all of this.

It generally wasn’t considered the best of ideas to Call openly across the sea. Lone sirens were prime targets for all sorts of nasty scavengers. Human hunters, rival pods, even other rogues looking for a fight. It was dangerous to mark one’s position so openly, let alone in a manner that made it obvious of the less than stellar situation they had no doubt found themselves in. It was also a nasty toll to try and Call so far for so long, on himself and the environment around him. A screeching, horrible thing that he’d only heard a few times in all his years. It was a terrible idea for everyone involved, himself and his fellow castaway most of all. But, well, desperate times, and all that.

Besides, it wasn’t like you’d be able to hear it anyways.

So began his endless song.

He’d sing, and sing, and sing—feeling the ripples of it carrying across the surface of the water and shivering through the air. And then, after he’d worn his throat ragged, he’d pause. Just long enough to swallow around the sting and tilt his head to listen. His fins would flare out against the side of his head, and he’d wait. And then, when there was no answer to his Calling, he’d circle back and do it again. A part of him hoped there would be none. He’d taught his pod better than to do something so foolish—to put themselves at the mercy of all the monsters of the sea. And… if they didn’t answer, perhaps that just meant they were searching for him. Using his own, ridiculous harping to trace him down. And if not that, then at least that they were off somewhere safe. Somewhere far, and hidden.

He swam and sang until he was too exhausted for either. Bound fins a heavy, leaden weight at his hips and head barely cresting above the water.

When the sun set over the horizon, Vil let himself roll in alongside the surf to rest in the sand, boneless and sore. His eyes slipped shut with the encroaching darkness, too heavy to hold open at all. He hadn’t seen much of you today. Occasionally you’d wander down to the shoreline, head popping up over a cluster of rocks to shoot him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but for the most part you’d stayed hidden away. Out of his hair, at least. Perhaps you’d finally learned what was good for you, and that keeping as far away from the beast lurking in the shallows was the only way you’d be getting out of this alive.

And then his eyes were snapping open to a field of stars overhead and the moon hanging fat and low in the sky like a fruit ripe for the plucking.

And there you were, hovering over him with that laughably small knife of yours.

Carefully and gently working the rope away from his tattered fins.

Your fingers were delicate, precise. Every time those woven fibers tugged in a way that could even begin to hurt, you were softening your touch and muttering reassurances under your breath. He wondered if you realized you were doing that at all—chattering quiet, rambling nonsense like a nervous tick. ‘Ack, don’t twitch so much, it’s just going to cut deeper,’ and ‘sorry! Sorry! I didn’t think that would move like that! Just—just stay still and it will all be done way faster and then you can swim off, and—’ You were exceptionally careful over the areas of rough, beaten scales along the dip of his tail, wincing in sympathy at the raw, raw skin there. The blade never strayed anywhere it wasn’t needed, and you never touched any part of him that wasn’t in an effort to work another tangle of knots free.

Vil kept himself perfectly still and his breaths even and deep. He watched you through the low, golden dip of his lashes, eyes tracking your fluttering hands and quiet mumblings.

The last of the rope fell away with a wet, heavy plap in the sand and when you sighed there was a smile in your voice.

“There,” you muttered, soft. “Now he can swim home again.”

He froze, startled, and something dropped low and tight in his gut.  

Because humans were cruel. Humans were food. Humans were nothing more than vermin crawling over the surface of his ocean in their hunkering, wooden vessels and finless feet. They didn’t deserve sympathy, or anything of that ilk. And—

Your gaze met his and the spark of horrified realization didn’t even manage to settle properly in your wide, wide eyes before he had you pinned in the sand.

It was easy—far too easy. Compared to him you were so small, so fragile. No heavy, bulk of muscle and scales to help keep you alive and fighting. Just fragile limbs and lungs that were good for nothing. He dug his claws into your shoulders and felt the warm prick of blood curl up beneath his talons—could see you wince with the first pinch of acrid poison sharpening the wound. He was going to rip you apart, just like he’d said he would. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear him, he’d show you. Because humans were vile, and no matter what you’d claimed, you didn’t deserve anything better than an end beneath the points of his fangs. Fuel for the journey back to his pod and nothing more.

‘There. Now he can swim home again.’

He reeled back, nose scrunching and teeth grinding in his jaw.

You were still beneath him, blinking up in shock but not fighting. Like being flipped onto your back had been startling out of principle, but not unexpected. Like the idea of dying at his claws was just something you’d been expecting from the get-go.

And yet—

‘Sorry! Sorry!’ you’d been rattling. ‘Ah, if you squirm it’s just going to hurt, you stupid, overgrown fish—'

Vil reared back with a snarl that had goosebumps racing all along your arms, and then he was diving back into the shallows—swiping the tip of his fins against your nose as he went in a sharp crack that he hoped would have you yelping and stumbling away from the ocean’s edge.

He paced along the edges of the bay, newly freed fins slowly uncurling in the lull of the tide. And he felt free. Sore, certainly, and aching in ways he never had before, but free.

When he popped his head back out of the water, you were sprawled out in the sand like a dying starfish, absolutely out of your mind and babbling nonsense about ‘captains’ and ‘collars’ under your breath.

‘Good,’ he harumphed, diving back into the shallows to twirl along his unbound tail. ‘Maybe that would teach you to stay out of the water.’

.

.

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Mermay #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Siren!Vil #Mermaid!Vil #Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Vil Part 1.5 #Vil's POV

[ponderingmoonlight]

Realizing your true feelings for Gojo after he stands up for you

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...

Warnings: literally wrote this in my break at work so don't come for me lol, fluff fluff fluff, reader getting insulted

Oh, how much you hate the way basically everyone looks at you. Well, not technically you, to be exact. It’s rather the person walking next to you who drowns in attention every time you are forced to go out together.

Not that you’d understand the hype. Gojo Satoru, the blessed one, the honored one, the strongest fucking jujutsu sorcerer of your lifetime.

“What’s wrong? Feeling left out, (y/n)?”

And probably the biggest pain in your ass.

“You’re such a whore for attention it hurts”, you bite back while rolling your shaded eyes the way you always do the second he opens his mouth.

His laughter vibrates through your body, annoys you to the core. When will this madness finally come to an end? When will they finally begin to send you onto missions with Geto, Yu or fuck, even Nanami? Why on earth does it always have to be him?

“Caught me there I guess. But it’s not my fault that I’m easy to look at. Not like you.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath in and out, to calm your tingling nerves and stop your fist from twitching. That fucker has some really good nerves. Only the sound of his name next to you simply drives you insane, let alone his stupid comments and oh too annoying voice. Is there really anything good on Gojo Satoru, something you might like?

“I hate you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Aww, don’t be like that, (y/n). We both know that isn’t true”, he purrs, ready to grab your shoulder when you yank away.

“I’ll break your fucking nose if you touch me, jerk.”

“I’d love to see you try, princess.”

“I’ve never seen you around here.”

The sudden soft female voice that interrupts your rambling catches you off guard.

There she stands, an undeniable beauty with curves in just the right places and blonde hair that looks like strands of gold. The bluest eyes, the most breathtaking smile. And of course, her gaze is fixated on Satoru.

“That’s because it’s my first time here. After all, my eyes definitely wouldn’t have miss someone like you”, he replies with that cheeky grin you know oh too well, the cheeky grin that makes your blood boil in an instant.

Really? This is probably the worst time to start a flirty conversation. You were sent here to detect a special grade curse, to save this damned city from getting scorched. But he? He has nothing but her blonde hair and delicate smile in his pea brain

“Don’t you think that this isn’t the right time for a conversation like that?”, you mumble irritably.

“We’re just having a little talk. Who are you, his girlfriend? I highly doubt that. A girl like you would never have a chance with a guy like him.”

You have to blink a few times when her sugary voice spits at you with pure venom.

It shouldn’t bother you. Why would it? Gojo is the last person walking on earth you’d be in a relationship with, the last person who would ever want you. You, with your average looks. You, being a grade 2 sorcerer who has nothing special to offer. You, who never actually allowed herself to like Gojo. You, who is nothing compared to the woman standing in front of you.

Then why do her words feel like a knife in your heart? Why are you standing there like an idiot, sunglasses barely covering your pain? Why does his presence next to you suddenly sting so badly?

“Pretty disgusting words for someone with that face. Do you really think the world belongs to you because you look good? Let me tell you something: Apart from being hot, (y/n) is also unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic. Someone as simple-minded as you should better avoid me. Now get lost, will you?”

What.

On.

Earth.

Did Gojo Satoru really stand up for you? No, did Gojo Satoru just call you “hot, unremarkable smart, astute and sarcastic”? Your heart almost beats out of your chest, pounding so roughly against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any given minute. A cruel storm of butterflies almost causes your guts to turn, makes you see stars. Are you dreaming, maybe? This can’t be reality. It’s impossible that-

“Hey, are you okay? I hope you don’t trust that stinky girl”, Gojo speaks out softly.

You can sense the way he eyes you up and down through his sunglasses, the little pout on his face revealing that he’s truly worried. Is that really the boy who teases you until you lose your mind completely? God, how much you hate him, how much you want to punch him into his stupid perfect face.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. But what is that little part of your brain that almost dies in excitement, then? What are those strange butterflies that never invaded you since you joined Jujutsu High?

“Hey, look at me.”

Your eyes dart upwards, get greeted by his bright blue orbs that look down at you in a seriousness you’ve never seen before.

“Tell me you don’t believe her.”

“She said nothing I don’t already know”, you reply dryly.

He shakes his head, still staring down at you with furrowed eyebrows. Who is this guy? What are those feelings? Why aren’t you able to look away like you always do? Gojo is only playing with you the way he does constantly. His bright blue orbs aren’t to be trust and you know it.

“I would choose you a hundred times before someone like her, (y/n).”

It’s like all life drained from your body, blank eyes staring at him in shock. This really has to be a dream. When was the last time Gojo has been nice to you? Probably never. He constantly teases you, drives you inane, makes you mad, makes you regret your decision to come to Jujutsu High and also…

Makes you feel save, makes you feel good about yourself, makes you feel affection.

Affection? For Gojo?

“I…I have to go”, you blurt out so abruptly that you almost trip over your own feet while trying to haste away.

He’s only picking on you like he always does. Gojo Satoru, considering a romantic relationship with you? You huff out loud, cheeks redden by the sheer thought of the dumb look you gave him. You aren’t better than the girls you despise so much, after all. He truly managed to wrap you around his finger like everyone else, even though you told yourself over and over to hate him.

What a pathetic jerk you are.

You spin around so fast you almost fall over, only to get caught in a pair of strong arms.

“You don’t believe me”, Gojo notes while keeping you in place.

“Why would I?”, you press out, not daring to look at him once again.

You need to get away from this cursed place, away from the honored one. It’s time to go back to normal, back to hating him with all your heart. Because this is all he is, right? Gojo Satoru is nothing but your rival…right?

“Maybe I can convince you with something else.”

Just when you’re about to protest and freeing yourself, he pulls you even closer and presses his lips against yours.

Time stands still, the lenses of your sunglasses pressing so violently against Gojo’s skin that they crack.

This.

This is the stuff your wildest dreams are made of, a dream you didn’t even allow yourself to think about. If there’s one thing that always seemed impossible to you, it was this. Why would you ever be more than Gojo’s rival, what is the purpose of seeing anything apart from a pain in the ass in him?

This right here.

Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around him as well, pull him closer and closer, take in his delicious scent. The sheer feeling of his lips collapsing into yours leaves you breathless, makes your lungs ache in the urge for air.

Until he lets go of you while panting hard, now glowing eyes fixated on you so intimidating that you feel yourself blushing.

“Believing me know?”

“You stained my sunglasses”, you breathe out mindlessly.

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy @paridoliaaa

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #husband gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru

[risuola]

RESTLESS // You cannot sleep but Suguru is willing to help you. — wc. 750

You couldn’t sleep.

No matter how hard you tried, flipping and turning, hopeful to find a position comfortable enough to drift off, you just couldn’t. Instead of slowly getting sleepier, closer to the sweet, well-needed rest, you were rapidly getting more and more annoyed, staring blankly at the ceiling — a dark, hazy shape above you that you couldn’t even see properly through the thick darkness of the night.

It was too cold, but when you pulled up the covers, you were hot. There were crumbles suddenly, creases in the sheets that bothered you and your pillow felt like a brick against the back of your skull, but when you pushed it away, it was too flat for you.

You sighed and thought about getting out of the bed, but an arm wrapped around your middle kept you in place. The man beside you was sleeping, his soft snores the only sound that somehow was soothing your overstrung nerves and you wished to not wake him up. You wished to allow him to rest uninterrupted, but the terror of staying awake all night, motionless in his embrace has pushed you towards the edges of your sanity.

It’s better if you leave the bed. Your shuffling couldn’t do any good to anyone.

So you moved, little by little, finding your way out of his unconscious grip, but the second your feet touched the cold wooden floor, and your body was no longer in the hold of his hands, you heard his voice.

“Where are you going?” You stopped, held your breath, hoping that the silence will encourage him to drift off again, but his mouth opened again. “Baby, it’s too late, come back here,” he mumbled, his cheek pressed adorably onto the soft pillow and he reached for you languidly. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t fully there.

“Sleep, love, I’ll be back in a second,” you lied and leaned in to kiss his temple and cheekbone and the side of his jaw, tucking him into the sheets and once he hummed, you left the room on your tippy toes.

2:13am.

You swallowed a helpless groan, watching the harsh red lines on the clock in the living room. The couch wasn’t much comfier — wasn’t comfortable at all — but at least your restless pirouettes won’t wake up your boyfriend. You were suffering, insomniac and oh so tired. Why you couldn’t just—

“There you are,” Suguru’s silky-soft, melodic voice made your droopy eyes snap wide open and you looked to the side. He was right there, in a pair of black boxers and nothing more, scratching his stomach and rubbing his eye. He was a sight that you wished to engrave into your own mind, but he was also a reminder of your dire situation. “Cannot sleep, can you?”

“I can’t,” you admitted, allowing the air to leave your lungs and you wanted to cry. Nerves knotted ties in your stomach, squeezing your insides with guilt at the sight of his tired face. He was breathtaking like this, with his raven locks down and unruly, but you knew it wasn’t the right time to admire his beauty because he should be sleeping right now. “Please go back to bed.”

“Come with me,” he grabbed your forearm, pulling and tugging you up, leading you towards the bedroom and you wished to protest, to tell him it’s pointless but you didn’t have half a heart to engage in a discussion with him right now. “Should’ve wake me up, yeah?”

“Didn’t want to.”

“But you should,” he shook his head and you watched as he got back to bed, on his back and patted his chest, “c’mere.”

“Sugu–“

“Come here, please,” he smiled softly and even in the dark night you could notice his gentle features. You felt his body relaxing as you slowly and carefully climbed on top of him. It took a moment for you two to find a comfortable position and suddenly, it felt perfect.

Suddenly, you’re melting into his warmth — just perfect against your skin. A subtle wave of his breathing, a lullaby composed entirely of his heartbeat and the idle circles he was brushing into your bare hip were enough to make your lids grow heavy. He slowly got back to sleep, with his lips pressed to the top of your hair and whispered confessions on his tongue, and you did too.

Letting go of all the stress and worries you finally, gently drifted away.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto #suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #geto best friend #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #suguru x you #suguru x reader #suguru x y/n #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n

[shadowcitrine]

Sunbathing

Before the outbreak there's a girl who keeps teasing Daryl.

Daryl's pov. Angry Daryl. Daryl and named OC. Kind of dirty.

18+ You're responsible for the content you consume.

First post nerves.

Of course she was here! She was everywhere he fuckin’ went. It was like she knew when he needed space and had some sick twisted need to devour what little time he carved out for himself. That stupid fuckin’ Mather's girly is just laying out by the river bank, arms beneath her head like she owns the whole god damned river and the sun is shining down on her over the tree tops like it agrees with her.

Picking up the fishing pole, Daryl's fist tightened around it, his face screwing up in anger makin’ his whole head hurt twice as much. He lets everyone walk all over him, but not anymore, not today. Especially not stupid Mercy who parades around in her dumb tiny shorts and ugly cut off shirts.

Taking the pole over to a shady spot he throws himself down, landing with a grunt. Digging through the little box of feathers he keeps in a tin till he finds a few small ones to tie on. If Mercy is watching him behind those dark glasses of hers he can't tell, not that he was lookin’ anyway. Not that he cares.

He cast the line, sticking the pole in the ground to light a cigarette and wait. She hasn't said a word and it's so unlike her that he thinks she has to be asleep. It's the only time she ain't asking him a million questions or trying to order him around. He stamps out the first butt and lights another. Takes him nearly all of the second one before he can hear the water trickling by beyond the anger pounding around in his head. Takes him even longer to realize his line has too much slack. The reel clicks quietly, a familiar lullaby that usually helps empty his head but not this time, not today.

Mercy still ain't talking. It's the longest they've ever been around each other without her at least sayin’ hi and now it's bothering him. He came out here for peace and now her silence is eating him alive. Not like bein’ around her does him any good. Never has, not even when they were kids. Just to try and take his mind off of her he starts reeling in the line, puffing on the smoke between his teeth but the harder he tries not to think about her the more he does.

That girl sighs and it draws his attention away from his half hearted attempt at fishing. She's still just layin’ there, knees now bent. Her shorts are digging into the upper parts of her thighs making little dips there that make his fingers itch to touch. She's just some annoying girl that he doesn't even like.

Then she moves again, rolling to her knees in the dirt, dead grass clinging to her back she's digging in a small cooler. Picking out some red white and blue ice pop she stuffs the wrapper inside before flopping back down on the ground. Still, not a single word out of her. She sick? High?

The more he looks at her painting her lips with the cherry end of the ice cream the more he's bothered by her silence because he can't help but see something else in his head. The way her tongue swipes across her bottom lip collecting the sticky sweetness there makes him tense in a way he shouldn't be around her but can't seem to help.

“Why ain't you sayin’ nothin’?” He asks. It just sort of bubbled up.

She takes her time answering sucking on the end of it making a soft lewd noise that makes his dick twitch. “Thought I talked too much Dixon?” there isn't even any anger in it. She's acting like she isn't even bothered by him being there watching her suck half the ice cream in to her mouth like she suckin’ cock.

“You do.” He drops the spent butt on the ground, his fishing pole forgotten.

She hums again around her snack, lips making a slurping noise around it like they do on titty channels that come on late at night. “Want me to ask you how you got that shiner?” She turns her head to look at him and if she notices him move his leg to hide his half chub she doesn't say.

Mercy runs a tongue along the underside of it catching drops of it before it can land on her tits and he's silently hoping she misses just one. Then his dick is coming alive thinking of her swearing the melted sugar water across them, swirling the red end over a nipple until it's rock hard. He don't need to be thinking about her like that but he can't look away.

She sits up holding in her mouth, cheeks hollowing around it and he swears she's doing it on purpose. No, she knows what she's doing and this–this tease is secretly eating up the attention. Mercy grabs the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She isn't wearing a bra or even one of her bright colored biking tops, no, she isn't wearing anything at all now ‘cept them frayed shorts of hers.

“Put your shirt back on Mercy!”

She lickin on the end for a moment, watching him watch her. He can't not think about how her ice cream is smaller than his dick. “Stop actin’ all mad.” She drops her head back.

Stop actin’ mad? Stop actin’ mad! She's doing this to fuck with him cause he doesn't wanna talk to her. He can see it in the way she smiles at him before biting off the last of the cherry flavor. Knows it when she leans back on her elbows to push her tits out on full display. She does all this shit just to fuck with him and he can't even figure out why! She treats him like he's nothin’! Tryin’ to push all his god damned buttons! Fuck her and fuck this!

He has to readjust himself as subtly as he can just to stand up. Even being mad at her doesn't stop his cock from throbbing, doesn't stop the ache. Then he's mad all over again because this is Mercy he's thinking about. Bitchy, awful, needy Mercy who comes over and smokes pot with Merle. The same girl who laughs whenever his brother calls him some stupid girl's name. This same girl who tries to lay against him on the couch when Merle leaves to go get more beer because she's lonely.

He's shaking his head. “I ain't in the mood for your shit. ‘M goin’ home.” He hates her. Hates the pink strip of colored hair that falls over her shoulder. Hates the way his brain has already memorized the trail of blue melt that's dripping on the swell of her breast and racing for her dusky nipple.

“If you stay–” she shouts loud enough for him to hear. “I'll let you touch em'.”

He even hates himself at this moment because now his feet are planted in the ground. Needing a distraction he lights a cigarette he doesn't even smoke. “The fuck you think I wanna touch your tits for?”

Mercy shrugs. “You keep staring.”

He snorts a breath of air through his nose. None of it even means anything to her, she's just messing with him. Always messing with him and he was tired of being nice. “You're the one who whipped em’ out to get me to look. What did you expect?”

Her face twists up. “I'm sun bathing asshole! I was the one who was here first!”

“And you ain't pretending to give the world's shittiest blow job with that thing?” He takes a hit off his cigarette nodding to the sweet melting in her hand. Her face is turning red, the tips of her ears are burning in embarrassment. He's turned the tables on her, called her out on her little game and she can't take it. Some distant part of him feels an inkling of pride at that. Her lip curls and he's moving towards her one slow step at a time.

“I changed my mind. Get fucked!” She throws down her ice cream in the grass.

Letting out a soundless laugh he's next to her now. Daryl's looking down his nose at her, the blue melt finally falling off the tip of her breast. “You wanna suck cock? Here it is.” Then he's grabbing himself through his jeans.

He blames the fact that there's no blood left in his head for why he's acting like this. That he needs her good and pissed off and disgusted all so she'd quit trying to get on his nerves all the damn time. He wants her to hate him as much as he hates her. Only, she ain't pushing him away. No, she's licking her sticky lips as she looks up at him behind those big ugly glasses.

“What? Can't figure out how a belt works?” He asks her. He's goading her to yell at him, but she hasn't yet. He sticks the smoke in his lips bending down to grab her hand. He pushes her fingers against the buckle when he stands back up. “C'mon! You want it so bad you're going to have to take it out yourself.”

Mercy bites her bottom lip as she twists to sit on her knees in front of him. His heart stutters in his chest when she begins to tug on the strap and he nearly laughs. She was so desperate she was actually going to suck him off. She's silent for probably the second time in her whole life as she undoes his belt.

#daryl dixon #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dix pov #daryl x oc #the walking dead #firstpost nerves #i'm working on it #kinda dirty #daryl pov #short

[shmolish]

Finished Beast Yeast ep 3 last night..... I was not happy with the results, so now I'm forming a picture in my head of y/n cookie running to Shadow Milk Cookie and hiding behind him, fearful of Mystic Flour Cookie, shaking like a chihuahua with tears in their eyes.

If it's possible, can you expand on this, please? If you can't, then it's fine 👍🏻😁

AN: Takes place before the beasts were sealed but after they became corrupted- Uh if you want one in the present I can make one of those as well..! Also, I usually try to avoid using Y/N in my stories, but it just felt natural here-

Shadow Milk x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Swears, not proof read

-Fearful-

"And see? My little Y/N here is absolutely perfect in every single way." Shadow Milk was often one to brag about his significant other, the significant other in question being you, of course. It has long since become of a habit of his.

You've become somewhat used to it by this point. He bragged to anyone who would listen, so this happened quite a lot.

Though, something was different about this person.

Her apathetic presence, those uncaring eyes, the way she carried herself... it was all so nerve-wracking.

Shadow Milk had mentioned her a few times before. She was one of his friends. Mystic Flour.

She seemed uninterested in the conversation, yet listened anyway.

The very much one-sided conversation seemed to go on and on, and throughout it all, Mystic Flour continued to stare at you. Something about that gaze made you feel deeply uncomfortable, and you subconsciously held onto Shadow Milk's hand and shifted behind him.

He quickly noticed this and seemed to quiet down a bit. He saw how you began to shake a little, and how you tightend your grasp around his hand.

"Is something wrong?" He asked you, tilting his head to the side a bit.

You didn't want to say it out loud, for fear of potentially offending Mystic Flour.

It didn't take long for Shadow Milk to connect the dots. He covered his mouth with his hand, snickering a bit. "Doll, you're not afraid, are you?"

There was nothing you wanted more than to wipe that annoying grin off of his face. "Hey, fuck you!"

He sighed. "Oh come on. Are you seriously afraid of Mystic Flour?' The grin never left his face.

"I will be taking my leave now," Mystic Flour said before walking someplace else.

You crossed your arms and glared at Shadow Milk, obviously not amused.

He let out another sigh before placing a hand on your head, messying your hair up. "Doll, I assure you, there is nothing to be scared of. That emotionless dustball that somehow gets worshipped will never lay a finger on you because you're mine. And she's smart enough to not mess with my stuff, 'kay?"

You nodded your head and Shadow Milk whisked away a stray tear that you hadn't realized was forming.

He gave you a soft smile. "Next time I see her, I'll have to remind her to appear more friendly towards guests..."

#crk #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #cookie run x reader #shadow milk x reader #cookie run kingdom shadow milk cookie #shadow milk crk #shadow milk #shadow milk x reader crk #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk cookie oneshot #mystic flour #shadow milk x reader oneshot #shadow milk cookie crk #shadow milk cookie crk story #shadow milk cookie fanfic #smc x reader #smc x reader crk #smc x reader oneshot #smc x reader fluff #shadow milk cookie fluff #shadow milk cookie x reader fluff #shadow milk x reader fluff #shadow milk x reader crk fluff #shadow milk cookie x reader crk oneshot #smc x reader oneshot fluff

[struck-by-the-rain]

was inspired by a few other ppl on here to drop some of the kind of cringy tropey lore I made up about these 2,,, mostly how they met n stuff and how I personally see emm.... im v normal about them I prommy

maintagging this perhaps but it's under the read more so if u dgaf u can just look at the silly picture

ok sooo

they meet completely by accident because This Space Kicker In Particular (who I'm calling SK) gets a try again in space soccer and crash lands outside the karate family residence. he's fine though, probably because he's subject to cartoon physics or something (might rewrite this bit of the lore bc it's kinda goofy but it's the first thing I thought of).

v predictably they start out playing soccer together, like they take a ball to the park or whatever n just having a kick around. but they move on to hanging out in a non-soccer context pretty quickly. i imagine sk's really curious to see what earth is like (it's probably his first time there), like he's filled w whimsy and joy just to go to the cafe n stuff :) joe is meeting him behind seniors back!

sk isn't joes only friend - hes friends w yuka n the wandering samurai n a few others, but i don't know if he's actually close with them? partially because he's busy training, partially because he's quite a reserved person, n to me at least I think he struggles a lot with self-doubt/feeling inadequate for anyone around him (partially as a result of the way he was raised). not to get Angsty on main but I think he ascribes wayyy too much of his self worth on his training... I think he has a tendency to try and isolate himself from others, both physically and emotionally

sk is the opposite (tropey ik lmao) - he's v outgoing, silly n carefree almost to the point where he gets on people's nerves sometimes (he's cowboy sk's "annoying little brother" to me). I don't think he fully gets/realises exactly why joe is v reserved but I think he manages to grow close w him in spite of that... idk how to word it. but I think he's such a ray of sunshine he's able to break through whatever exterior joe has put up for himself (ik how cheesy that sounds but yeah)

ive made a post about this before but joe is v v v affection starved (because Basement) and does a terrible job at hiding it to the point where he just melts over the smallest things. sk meanwhile is suuuuuper physically affectionate so yeah

I haven't worked out exactly when this happens but I think they just kinda fall for each other over time, it takes a while for both of them to realise its mutual tho....

joe alsooo gets flustered veryyyy easily (source: karate man 2 ds superb screen). sk probs picks up on this right away lmao

im thinking sk is out here dropping the most obvious hints... but joe refuses to believe that sk would see him in that way. idk he probs does the wildest mental gymnastics assuming that sk is just being nice or it's like,,, a social norm up on his planet lmfao.

but yeah he eventually works it out too in the end... probably partially because he begins to learn to be a bit more confident in himself over time. i think they get to a point where they both v much know it's mutual but r too awkward to do anything about it/don't wanna mess up their close friendship/are too worried about the logistics/implications of living on other planets n senior. so they don't like acc Say anything or whatever for a while. but it's obvious n only gets worse over time lmfao. see the pic above the cut

blehhh silly thought but I hc sk to be besties with 6switcher who I think gets fed up of his shittt... like hes just like "Oh My God Please Just Tell Him. Like Please".

in my mind palace they end up going to the battle of the bands (joes a huge fan of the rockers but he's never been able to see them live before). and ummm after the concert they end up sitting outside live house ogu watching the stars together,,,, and u kno,,,, they kith.... woaw,,,,, but yeah I think because botb is the 1 time in game they "meet" (if u can even call it that) I thought it would be cute if it's where they end up getting together as a couple :)

hmmm like inconsequential shit unrelated to the main story but they find remix 9 cat as a stray kitten at some point during all of this n joe takes it in... i think I could do a follow up post about what happens next in the lore after botb because this is already mega long but they eventually end up living together on sk's planet and the cat comes w them :)

oh adding this on acc after I posted it, but I think when joe meets sk it's like,,, the first time in his life where he hasn't felt lonely...

#punch kick toe #this is v tropey and cringe lmao but i had to share #i havent written any of this down before #posts this and runs away #rhythm heaven #i wanted to give like... context for my drawings of em idk #idk this is just how i see them in my mind palace ymmv

[folklorepoetsdepartment]

love how my parents never tell me a god damn thing <3 yet complain that i do the same <3

#it's not even me being petty it's like. they truly never tell me a god damn thing and yet all the time i lived with them #they would get mad at me for not sharing stuff #and it's truly like #where do you think i got the habit #i've been living on my own for almost ten years now #and the more time passes the more i realize just how often they do this #and it's annoying because like. the nerve #the audacity #right now there's family issues that i'm completely in the dark about #cause they're the one's supposed to tell me and they fucking don't #last year it was dad's health problems #and my mother is. well. she's who she is #and it honestly feels so unfair? #like how dare you make me feel like there was something wrong with me all those years #just because i acted (thanks to you!) the only way i knew how

[snezfics-n-shit]

#this meme has been going through my head for a bazillion years lol #i love to interact and then it hits me that im probably bothering you guys #plus the current popular stuff I am sadly so unfamiliar with #when i was younger i would gravitate to my own interests when i was unfamiliar with other topics and it got on peoples nerves a lot #and i completely understand that so i dont wanna repeat those mistakes #its just like a game of pingpong of me talking too much and me hiding under my desk bc i feel like im bothering everyone #also like the last time it was p much confirmed i was being annoying i cried for like two hours bc my fears were realized haha #and when a line is drawn for me i kinda like to stay at least 2ft away from wherever that line is just to be safe #you gotta like throw a cookie attached to a fishing line to get me closer to the line lol #because i will seriously be way too cautious otherwise #im trying to get more brave though im just kinda like my cat who heard a noise in the bathroom cabinet #and now he refuses to go near it #being mindful of others feelings and respecting their boundaries is super important to me #and sometimes that boxes me in a bit

[emp-blast]

cypher and his big ol' eyes

#valorant #cypher valorant #omen valorant #my art #i like 2 think that cypher is very annoying to omen and omen only #cypher just likes bothering him #mainly because he thinks it's funny to get on omen's nerves

[trash-can-sam]

What happens when your coworker kills your other coworker but both of you are in a relationship (kind of) with the same ethereal woman who had an admiration for said dead coworker.

+bonus Evandrey because it’s funny to me (I’m sorry Eva.)

#pathologic #pathologic 2 #andrey stamatin #yulia lyuricheva #eva yan #evandrey #yulieva #evaandrey #Eva yahn #Andrei Stamatin #see I think that Eva is very okay with Eva being how she is- promiscuous and spreading her love (Maybe a little jealous but more rooted in #self loathing and insecurities) #and she’s like look I’m okay with this whole open relationship (technically we aren’t in a relationship even though I really want to be) #thing BUT why HIM. I have to work with him and he’s by far the worst man I’ve ever worked with (besides maybe his brother because at least #Andrey actually talks but really they’re a package deal anyways) I need to have meetings with him often and it’s horrendous every time #like spread your love it’s noble really. #I wouldn’t expect anything else from you #but maybe give him less he’s annoying as hell #I also think that she’d figure out pretty quickly that Andrey and Peter killed Farkhad #just bcuz like. yk she’s there. she’s seen the already shaky relationship crumble beyond repair. she’s seen them argue in meetings. #she knows the stamatwins are not above murder. especially for art. and she’s clever. #And andrey knows that so he doesn’t try to hide it. she doesn’t have recourse anyways- #the kains (who I think helped cover up the murder) employ her too #and andrey respects her to a degree- he assumes she’ll see reason. #and honesty. Yulia might be upset that Andrey killed one of the only other architects but also she does not miss him that much. #she’s like I don’t agree with this whole murder thing but you are kind of right he had to go he was getting on my nerves #the meetings will be 10x more tolerable now that the twins can’t argue with him about things that aren’t even real #it’s awful but it did drive Eva further into my arms so necessary evils. #my art #sorry for the essay in the tags.

[simplepotatofarmer]

like, despite laelaps genuinely being nervous about techno figuring out who he really is, he absolutely feels some kind of glee at knowing he's annoying techno as much as techno annoyed him.

#i love rivals dynamic it's just. techno doing everything he possibly can to get on dream's nerves #because when dream is annoyed/amused he's REALLY funny. #up until dream does something completely out of pocket and techno is like 'alright! get this man outta here!!!' #so the laelaps techno dynamic is the opposite #loyal talks about stuff and things #black dog au

[sonknuxadow]

theres multiple reasons i dont like s/urgeamy but one of the things ive seen people do with it that annoys me a bit is the idea that surge and kit are going to become good because surge is gonna fall in love with amy and thats gonna be her only motivation to change.. and im sorry but am i the only one who thinks it would suck so bad for such fun antagonists to instantly switch sides just because one of them was "fixed" by romance and no other reason

#that is not an appealing storyline to me at least not for something like sonic where i dont wanna see canon romance #i DO think it could be interesting if amy being nice to surge and kit is gonna somehow be the start of a redemption arc for them #but not in a romantic way . not in an instant ''well i guess i have to switch sides now because i have a crush on sonics friend'' way #and ive seen some people assume that surge and kit are actually being serious when they come to the restoration as if theyve changed #i definitely dont think this is the case i dont think theyre good guys now #at least not yet it is possible they could calm down one day. but i dont think thats whats going on right now #i dont get why people are so obsessed with shipping amy with everyone anyway #shes just a little guy she should be doing average middle school aged girl activities like playing neopets or whatever #not entering serious romantic relationships . come on #especially considering most of her friends are a bit older than her #also the constant ''haha surge stole sonics girlfriend'' posts are getting on my nerves too #like my reasons for not liking the ship + the fact that the joke has already been made a million times aside. #it just always annoys me seeing amy be reduced to sonics girlfriend when theyre not even dating

[juicedbeetle]

I know everyone already figured this probably but I hadn't paid attention before to when beej exactly takes his coat off and I was curious, so I'm pleased to report that he left it somewhere in the kitchen

not to mention he is briefly alone with adam in the kitchen while he was there getting the stuff for the sandwich

leaving aside my contemplation about how beej cannot affect the world of the living so those aren't coke, popcorn and 3d glasses he found in their house (probably manifested them himself the same way he takes the coat off. possibly from his mary poppins ass jacket, like with the mic) I like to think that he thought about getting them so he could snack alongside them, other than the obvious "upcoming show aka their death" use, not to mention the fact itself that he takes his coat off makes it feel like the mait's house is his as well, since you usually do it when you arrive home.

hell, I think he doesn't even need a coat whatsoever and just

started doing the "taking it off when I'm home" ritual because he saw adam doing it.

and in general I love this whole beginning part where he just acts like their house is his own, goes into their other rooms to do who knows what (first alone to the left then with adam in the kitchen), sits on their furniture like he owns the place, knows it like the back of his hand

actually I get the feeling that despite the fact he sat down first, he's also imitating adam here, like it's something the guy does all the time so beetlejuice has the whole thing memorized by now. but that's just speculation anyway.

I just get sad because I think he was really excited to meet them and already knew them really well, like he's not lying when he calls them friends, he's known them intimately for 10+ years (and, yes, it's been very creepy). he's lived with them and gotten used to this warm sitcom-y feel and then when they actually meet him they're terrified. Rightfully so but, ouch.

like, nothing goes like he planned right from the start, not just because they're not scary (and I mean, his whole plan was... to have them scare the new house inhabitants into saying his name? and then what? great plan beetleboose great thinking ahead there, a mastermind really), but because they didn't just magically act like his new best friends like he hoped and probably made up in his mind for all those years 😵‍💫

I mean, for all his solitude... the guy totally talks to himself. all the time. that is just a given to me. even besides the clones, the hand thing in say my name, the soliloquy, the guy probably had full fledged conversations. I can hardly imagine how many times he fantasized about talking to the maits for the first time in very elaborate scenarios in his head not to mention participated to all their conversations in the same way he does in this beginning segment and basically took it for granted that they'd enjoy his company same way he enjoys theirs, that is to say, the idealized version of their company he created in his head. siiigh, I love this whole part a lot, you can tell.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #woobification tag #headcanon #in which i rant for far too long and not make any sense and slowly lose it but so does beej so im never beating the kin allegations #anyway i really did just wanted to figure out when he took the coat off then the post devolved because im insane but. it was in the kitchen #ALSO NOT TO MENTION WHEN BEEJ ACTUALLY MEETS THEM HE ALSO THINKS. THEY ARE JUST. A TINY BIT ANNOYING. JUST A LITTLE #not that he doesn't want to be friends they just say things that get on his nerves #like with the wiccan thing #he hadn't realized that when they can Answer Back to his words. they can say things that aren't His Imagined Perfect Responses #and he hatessss that. what do you mean you have thoughts and aren't an extension of myself? you say things I didn't expect you to??? #and annoying things too???? you are a different person than my self projection on you???? ridiculous. unbelievable

[moonchild-in-blue]

Can someone please either validate me or send me to the Corner of Shame? This is very silly but I'm wondering.

So. I was talking to my sister the other day about movies and such, and she told me of one she recently watched with this one actor. And I casually mentioned how much I hated him. Not in a "he's a bad actor" or "he's a bad person" way. Nothing to do with whether I find him attractive or not. Just in a "he looks the most punchable guy on earth and I have this irrational rage against him" way, to the point that I just can't watch movies with him without being annoyed.

My sister looked at me like I was crazy because, "what do you mean you hate the guy". And I told her yeah? That's normal? Don't you have at least one person you can't stand for no reason?

Sister was like 😬😬😬 No??? Which is wild to me, because I could easily name 50 (which I did - not 50 but we were getting close to 20 before i got too annoyed lmao).

Now she thinks I'm slightly insane (/j) (I made myself angry and may have referred to a few individuals as "stupid" and "obnoxious"), and I kinda don't believe I am the only person alive who feels this way. But also she's an incredibly empathetic extrovert, while I'm a very low empath socially anxious creechur so. There's that?? I guess ?? Idk.

Can anyone relate to this? Or am I the weird one?

Also wait. Little disclaimer: I am not generally a violent person AT ALL. Do i get annoyed and angry easily? Yeah. Do I feel like bitch slapping someone right across their stupid face? Yeah, sometimes, sure. Do I do something about it? Not really.

I can be real bitchy and extra sarcastic and petty SURE, but that's the most I'll do if I am legitimately angry. Mostly I just go to my room and cry 🥺 (crying when angry yes it me). So yeah. Before yall think I have unsolved anger issues.

#if you're curious. the guy in question is Thimothée Chalamet #look. from what i've seen he's good at his job and he seems a genuinely nice guy #nothing against him at all like. you go timmy 🙂👍 #i do however have an illogical boiling rage against him #i don't know what it is but i genuinely feel like punching his face everytime he pops up #maybe in another universe we were arch enemies. maybe i was his school bully. maybe HE was my school bully idk #obviously i would never do anything like that but if there's one person that looks like it could use a wedgie is him #and don't get me wrong. i DO feel about about it cus it's not like i'm choosing to be irrationally angry #and this goes for a bunch of other people #i just!!! 😡😡😡 #seeing him (as in his vibe and general presence. nothing to do with physical appearance) #is the equivalent of trying to use cling film while it keeps sticking to itself #you know that one family guy scene with Peter and the cling wrap?? YEAH. THAT. genuinely so annoyed #i've always assumed this was a common thing. as in. there's always at least one person that gets on your nerves for absolutely no reason #but i guess maybe not???? *am* i a hater??? #and btw this ONLY happens with either celebrities (in various degrees) #or people irl i've had some close proximity to <- and in this case it's always justified. i don't generally hate irl people out of nowhere #(okay there is ONE person in specific BUT i do feel slightly justified IMO. and in any case i always make sure to be as nice as possible) #(because poor girl didn't really do nothing wrong. i just have never vibed with her. i tried!! but yeah) #idk where i'm going with this lmao i might just ending up deleting it #whatever. don't worry guys you're all safe i love you very much and wouldn't slap any of you (unless asked you little freaks 👀) #darya talks to herself

[simsforks]

I went to my friends birthday party yesterday, and bought her two very expensive gifts. She just asked me to pay her back €8 for a beer. I don't want any drama so I'm just gonna do it but jesus

#the nerve!!! #I guess it's just a difference in how u look at it because I never ask anyone to pay me back for anything under like.. €10 #not even like she needs the money girlie is 23 and living in a penthouse apartment with two floors!! in the heart of the city #nothing on her gift list was under €40 as well like......... #sorry for the vent #i am just annoyed lmao #non sims #also had hyped this event up sm in my head. but I really missed the vibe #like I thought her friends were all like arty weed smoking types with tattoos everywhere so I wore a very ~scandalous~ top #it was like a corset #TELL MY WHY EVERYONE ELSE WAS IN BLAZERS!!! IT WAS BUSINESS CASUAL!!!! #it was byob so I bought a bottle of vodka. everyone else had bought WHITE WINE. it was so embarrassing. #it really humbled me

[jichanxo]

was at my friend's karaoke party and was amusing myself by going "ahhh this is kuwagami" at as many songs as possible, and then we get to one song and i realise. this is kuwagami. as in, i've seen this music video before, but only in the context of kuwagami. anyway the art in question is this and this, and the music video is this. so glad to finally have context for this artwork lol even if it's by accident

#jitxt #it's funny. to me! #me: kuwagami? wait. WAIT. WAIT A SECOND I'VE SEEN THIS BEFORE #thankfully i didn't have to dig through my bookmarks for long to find those tweets #everyone say thank you twitter kuwagami artist #that last one of kuwana looking annoyed asf might be one of my favourite kuwanas ever because his expression is just so fucking good #honestly intrigued by the song choice and character allocation #<- i hope that doesn't sound like shade because it's not and i love this art. i just wonder what their reasoning is #the mv is probably explanation enough for the song choice. like. what if i loved you and got on your nerves? it checks out #yagami jungkook though like.... hmmmmmm #presumably because he's the one doing the chasing (after kuwana) and perhaps because of uhhhhhh leather jacket wearing #yagami would not have been my choice as to which one of them fakes their own death but perhaps we permit him a little silly. it's funny #kuwagamis weigh in. perhaps. idk it's not important but yknow i like hearing kuwagami opinions #hi guys did you know that i loooooooove talking