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felicityphoenix5 · 2 years

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Day Five(? pretty sure we're on five) of WIP posting;

escapism; (es·cap·ism)

the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy.

I, someone who has not yet watched Rekrap, attempt to write him being paranoid

Rek needs to sleep.

Like, really badly.

But he can't, he can’t he can’t. He needs to check for traps, he needs to hide again, he needs to-

He needs to sleep.

But he can’t, y’know? Not until it's safe. Or well, not until he knows for 100% certain that he won’t blow up when he touches his bed. Or shot by arrows when he opens his door. Or-

It's never safe, okay? Not on Lifesteal. Not for him. Not for the Untrappable, the master escape artist, Rekrap. There’s always something, someone waiting to- to pull a lever and drop him, some tripwire hook or- or pressure plate-

His hands are shaking, he realizes idly. They seem to do that a lot. Especially after people try to trap him. Weird.

Finally deeming his house safe (not for long not for long someone always comes someone’s always out to get him-), Rek curls up on his bed, armour digging into his side uncomfortably. He can't muster the strength to care. He can’t afford to take it off, what if someone comes in the night? It- it would be so easy to stab him with no armour on, and if they’re quiet enough then he won’t wake up until it's too late and-

Rek takes a shaky breath, pressing his back up against the wall and curling tighter. It's okay. He’s- he’s safe. Actually. He might block up the door with obsidian, just in case. Just in case.

His hands shake as he blocks the door with the nearly indestructible stone, and then a few blocks around the door for good measure. It's fine. He’s safe. H-he’s safe.

Rek curls back up on the bed, watching where the door used to be. His hands shake, and he wraps the blankets around them to try and stop the constant jittery movement.

He listens. Nothing but silence, nothing but his own shallow breathing. He’s safe. The nearest player is a few hundred blocks away, he’s safe.

Tentatively, he closes his eyes. He needs to sleep, he needs to sleep or else his reaction time will be down, and- and that means it- it's easier to trap him, harder to notice a button on the wall, harder to escape-

He’s safe. It's fine, it's okay, he can sleep, he’s safe.

His breathing is just calming down when he hears a crunch outside.

Immediately, Rek pulls his axe from his inventory, ready to either chop through his walls or fight someone. His hands tremble as he stands, and he clenches them tighter around the handle of his axe. He can't afford weakness, can’t afford to be anything but gone when- when dripstone falls from the sky- or- or Clown comes knocking-

The crunch comes again, and maybe it's just a mob, a- a zombie, or something? But it's too inconsistent for that, those are the footsteps of someone trying to be quiet-

Rek’s breath hitches as his mind whirls with escape routes, people that want him dead, ways to run hide get out-

There's a quiet knock on his door, muffled by the obsidian. It’s faint, and if Rek wasn’t hyperaware of every sound right now he probably wouldn't have heard it. It’s accompanied by a calm voice.

“Rek?”

Parrot.

Despite himself, he relaxes slightly, the constant shaking of his hands diminishing at the sound of his friend’s voice. He- he can trust Parrot? He can trust Parrot. Parrot- Parrot wouldn’t kill him.

(you never know, maybe he’s waiting for you to let your guard down you can never trust anyone because they will all kill you kill kill you dead you have to run run hide don’t let them find you-)

“...Parrot.” He says, determined not to let his voice tremble. “What do you want?”

“Just wanted to check on you, y’know? That last trap was… something.”

Rek shudders, definitely not thinking about a few hours earlier- “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

Parrot chuckles, the door creaking slightly as he tugs on it. “Y’know, dude, people usually aren't fine when they say that.”

#WOOOOOOO FIRST WIP THATS GOT AN ACTUAL INTROOOOOO #those of you in the discord will hopefully remember this one #yeah #dunno if ill ever finish it but here #read it and reblog #nixfics #rekrap2 #parrotx2 #lifesteal smp #lssmp

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perenlop · 1 year

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wait galacta knight is canon now

#RETROACTIVELY BC CLASH IS CONFIRMED CANON NOW AND THEYRE IN THAT #WOOOOOOO oh god we gotta retire the ‘’morpho became canon first’’ joke now bc retroactively thats not the case anymore #echoed voice #AUGHHH now i gotta watch the aeon hero stuff bc if thats their one canon thing then i gotta check it

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slimmestslime · 1 year

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i give you a deebi

#simplified their design purely to animate them #was gonna make it transparent but i couldnt figure out how #+ the site that does it for you fudged up the colors so #fire alpaca moment #madness combat #madness combat oc #madcom oc #first actually successful animation in years. wooooooo (and its not even a proper one

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consolecadet · 1 year

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My ex's parents insisted on "girls only" sleepovers despite them and a lot of their friends being queer, so like...things happened, but we were not exactly practicing lol

#every single sleepover with that group was such a mess.#I had my first hyperventilating panic attack at one of them!#also got sexually assaulted!#wooooooo #boring text posts

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strayheat · 1 year

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is it normal to stress about if your code is going to work right before you run it to the point you can feel your guts moving on their own

#IT WORKED THO HOLY FUCK #i did everything according to the video and it didnt work the first time #so i fidured i mustve made a typo or missed someyhing and so i went and redid the whole thing #and tomorrow im gonna have to present this thing so i Needed it to work #and for a few seconds before i clicked the thing my tummy went all squiggly 🥴#but it WORKED WOOOOOOO #i still have to build on top of that but the most important part is in place and tomorrow one more project is gonna be done and gone #one more after that + my thesis project and guess whos gonna graduate :^)#straytalks

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rainboww0lfie · 11 months

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a ghosts graves

In the aftermath of a battle, Phantom, Batman, and Superman could be see talking between each other.

During a lull in the conversation a tiny girl comes running from underneath caution tape taped around the vicinity, holding a bouquet of marigolds between her small hands. She’s out of breath and seems to be embarrassed when she stands before the heroes, Batman reacts the quickest to the sudden encounter. Asking her about why shes here and what the problem is, he’s about to ask about her parents when she interrupts with “i have something for mister Phantom”.

Danny who had been only half listening was caught off guard, he looks at her and tries for a reassuring smile but his confusion must show through because she suddenly looks down shyly at her flowers.

“I heard from mommy that you put flowers on graves for people you like, ” she starts, “i don't know where yours is though, so i got you flowers to put it wherever it is”. She’s obviously embarrassed about interrupting, but she says the words with a form of determination. Suddenly what seems to be her mother comes running from out of the crowd.

“I am so, so, sorry for Miya, i didn't mean to loose sight of her, she slipped away, we’ll get out of your hair now. ” the woman says in a rush, gently tugging the child back from the slack jawed heroes. Danny can just make out her gently reprimanding the child for her behaviour when he suddenly steps forward. “Wait, wait, wait” he says quickly, crouching down to the child now hiding a bit behind the mother, “you got me flowers. . . so i can put them on my grave?” the tiny nod he gets from that has him smiling, “you wanted to put flowers on my grave?” is asked with excitement, gaining n even bigger nod in return.

He takes a small step forward, still crouched, and asks “are you alright with me hugging you?”, the nod lets him quickly move forward a spin the child around in a tight hug, laughing. He smiles brightly at the girl, holding her in his arms with enough space to make sure the flowers were safe, who is smiling back just as brightly. Danny laughs, “no ones ever given me flowers before! And you want them on my grave!” the actions have gained the attention of both civilians and other heroes, Danny could honestly care less though, someone wants to put flowers on his grave! Someone went through the effort of giving him flowers! He is so excited!

Both the mother, Superman, and Batman all look uncomfortable, “have you. . . never gotten. . ahem. . Flowers before?” Superman asks, “i mean, you look young so. . . have your parents never. . . ?”, the ending never gets finished but its definitely implied what he wants to really ask. Danny doesn't care, its not exactly important, right?

He looks at the heroes and says cheerily “i don't think my parents even know im dead!” before looking back at the child in his arms, not seeing all the shocked, pale faced staring( minus Batman, he never emotes, like, at all).

Eventually the kid has to leave due to dangerousness of the area, but not before a final hug and happy goodbye from Phantom after she hands the flowers to the undead hero. Danny says his goodbyes to the surrounding heroes, not understanding why they all look at him funny as he carries around the marigold bouquet before he flies off. He holds the flowers close to makes sure they dont get destroyed by the wind, but he cant help a few happy loops and twirls in his flight home.

The first ever flowers for his grave, how exciting!

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Ever since then the heroes and a few civilians make sure to give Phantom flowers each time they see him for his grave. Phantom is so excited people want to give him flowers each time a new set is given to him.

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wooooooo ok

i finally actually wrote something after so long, sorry for the long break between shit, stuff happened :/

sorry if there's any big misspellings or anything like that in here, i had an idea and wanted it down as fast as possible and i fucking ran with it as far as i could lol

y’all can continue this if you want, i just thought this idea was so cute

have a good night/day/afternoon/life

#my writing #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #batman #superman #danny phantom #danny fenton #the supers are horrified #lmao #so is that one random civilian #her child doesn't get it so shes safe from the horror #lol

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lamblush · 1 year

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(from betrayedthem!!) he is openly watching ovtsa work, gaze lingering on her muscles as she swings an axe, splitting lumber with ease. upon being caught, a sly smile give impish light to his eyes, belying the desire that lurks beneath. his response is languid and easy, though his tone teeters on the edge of suggestive. " oh, i am simply worshipping our glorious leader. would you rather i, ah... take more direct actions? "

@deathlusts // random asks, always accepting!

ovsta had been helping with the cult's latest project: an updated missionary building, she'd been lugging around supplies, and currently? is chopping lumber. so, she lines up her trusty battle axe carefully, then swings down with a grunt, splintering wood giving away to the well-sharpened edge. ✝️

the sun of high-noon beating down, she absentmindedly wipes the sweat from her forehead, pushing some of her wool up and out of her face. that's when she notices him, narinder, standing in the near -by growing crop fields, simply staring with a flicking, interested tail. ✝️

ovtsa lets out a soft laugh, " narinder, what are looking at, hm? are you not supposed to be work? " she asks with a quirked brow, and a teasing tone, while casually leaning on her axe's handle. ✝️

'oh, i am simply worshipping our glorious leader'--she feels her cheeks flush pink, if she hadn't already been feeling feverous in these tempera -tures, those words certainly made things heat up. her smile grows, red eyes suddenly avoiding out of shyness, and to check if, well...✝️

" co-come now... followers may hear you! " but, she still giggles. ✝️

#* && IC #* && SCARIFICAL LAMB / GLORIOUS LEADER : (SELF) .#* && THE ONE WHO WAITS / ONCE A GOD : (NARINDER) .#* v03 : post canon .#wooooooo first ic post over here. now its time for a nap

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astrophileous · 6 months

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ZARA MY LOVE MWAH SENDING THROUGH A REQUEST WOOOOOOO 😚😚😚

please give me spencer reid crumbs 🤲 maybe him seeing reader in a fancy dress for the first time 👀 and he’s like 😃 because she’s so pretty 🥴 and he’s been rendered speechless because oh my god that’s his girlfriend????? ARE YOU FEELING ME 😩😩

I FEEL YOU MA'AM!!! AND I GOTCHUUU DON'T WORRYYY 🫶🫶🫶 (y'all better thank avis the loml for sending in this request bcs this turned out better than I expected if I do say so myself 👀)

Warning(s): fem!reader, profanities, spencer being head over heels in love with his gf, kinda suggestive towards the end so pls minors just be mindful

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No one is laughing!"

"Right. You're saying that wasn't a snort that I just heard?"

"I just think you're being unreasonable."

"Unrea—? I'm not being unreasonable! Don't call me unreasonable!"

Spencer sighed out loud as he turned the car towards a quiet street, his eyes never straying off the road even if 90% of his attention had been domineered by your distressed voice resonating out of his speaker phone for the past fifteen minutes. Something crashed on the other end of the line, and Spencer nearly pressed his right foot all the way down on the brake pedal as he glanced worriedly at the device on the passenger's seat.

"Sweetheart? Everything okay over there?"

"Everything's fine! I'm okay, I'm okay!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just—fuck. I bumped into some stuff. It's not a big deal."

"(Y/N)—" Spencer called out softly, "—why don't you take a deep breath for me, my love?"

"Spencer—"

"Just humor me, okay?" There was a lengthy pause before he heard you take several deep breaths through the phone. "Feel better now?"

"Maybe. A little bit. Yeah."

"Good." Spencer smiled, slowing his car down to a stop as he stared at the familiar building outside the window. "Because I'm pulling up to your place right now."

"What?!"

After a full more minute of you cursing the living daylights out of him, Spencer ended the call and grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat before walking all the way up to your apartment on the third floor. The three-piece suit he donned felt stiff against his body. Nevertheless, it was the fanciest thing he owned in his closet, thus uncomfortable as he was, Spencer thought he'd endure it tonight for Rossi's sake.

It was a memorable night in the BAU's history, considering Rossi had just finished the first book he ever wrote after rejoining the team and was throwing a party to celebrate its launch. "It's a whole shindig," Rossi had announced. "Everyone's invited, so dress to impress. Don't forget to bring that lovely girl of yours, Reid."

You had only met the team once by this point—an accidental encounter that barely lasted ten minutes after you and your friends stumbled into the same restaurant where Spencer and his team just happened to be dining in—and Spencer couldn't be more ecstatic at the prospect of you finally getting to know his second family even closer. The invitation was merely an implied gesture that confirmed what Spencer already knew to be true: the team approved of you. They loved you.

Yet, as he extended the invite to you two weeks ago, Spencer was surprised to see you panic instead of the unadulterated joy that he had expected to witness when he went to deliver the news.

"Two weeks, you said? The party is in two weeks? Two weeks? I have nothing to wear!"

You had been freaking out over the party every single day since then. Upon further inspection, Spencer finally realized that this behavior stemmed from your fear of not being accepted by the team, which was illogical since Spencer had stated very clearly about how much they adored you.

"I didn't have the chance to prepare for a good first impression, Spencer. So whatever happens, everything has to be perfect for Rossi's party," you had reasoned.

Hence, Spencer could only watch you from the sideline as you ran around in a frenzy for the past couple of weeks. He listened patiently to each one of your manic ramblings and gave you reassurances whenever you needed it. Before he left for your place that night, he made sure to stop by his usual florist to purchase a big bouquet of your favorite flowers, hoping that the vibrant arrangement could offer some repose to your restlessness.

A couple of minutes later, Spencer found himself coming face to face with the view of a familiar door. His grip around the bouquet tightened as he knocked on the wood three times.

"Coming!" you exclaimed from inside the apartment.

When the door finally swung open, Spencer nearly collapsed as he felt the air being knocked completely out of his lungs.

Spencer realized, then, that in the ten months the two of you had been together, there had never been any special occasion where the two of you were required to dress to the nines. And as lovely as you always looked in Spencer's eyes, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you standing in a luxurious dress, all dolled-up like the epitome of timeless beauty whose fairness they used to sing about back in the old days.

The material of the dress flowed and hugged your body in all the right places, giving Spencer a calculated peek to the vast skin underneath that he had mapped out countlessly in the past. The dress itself came in a color that complimented the natural gleam of your skintone. You looked radiant as you stood there with the dress and your makeup perfectly in place. Still, as stunning as you were at that moment, Spencer knew that the dress wouldn't be as captivating as it was had it been any other person wearing it instead of you.

"Spencer." The sound of his name in your enthralling voice brought Spencer back out of his stupor. "Can you wait a minute? I need to find my purse. I swear, I put it somewhere around here. And shoes! Shit. I haven't chosen what shoes to wear."

You flew around the apartment with the most anxious elegance Spencer had ever seen in a person. He wordlessly walked into the threshold and kicked the door shut behind him. You reappeared in front of Spencer barely five minutes later, holding a matching purse in your hand and standing four inches taller courtesy to the heels you were wearing.

"Okay, I'm ready!" you announced. "Spencer? Why are you looking at me like that? What, do I have something on my face? Crap, is it my lipstick?!"

Spencer stepped closer as you began rummaging through the tiny purse you were carrying. He gripped your wrist in his hand, stopping your ministrastions until you finally looked up at him.

"You look beautiful," Spencer admitted in a breathless murmur. "So gorgeous."

Without a word of warning, Spencer used his free hand to pull you closer by the waist, connecting his desperate lips with your sweet ones. You yelped against him before melting completely into his embrace, letting his tongue dominate your own as your delight erupted in a series of muffled whimpers. It felt as if hours had passed—your legs threatening to turn into jelly underneath you—when Spencer eventually pulled away, resting his forehead on top of yours as the two you tried to catch your breath.

"You have lipstick on your face." You laughed, wiping the reddish stain around Spencer's lips as your boyfriend chuckled wholeheartedly. "Not that I didn't appreciate the passionate display of affection, darling, but what was that for?"

"Nothing. I just love you so much."

"Uh-huh." You raised a pair of unimpressed eyebrows at him, your lips curving up one degree further when you saw what he was holding in his hand. "Is this for me?"

Spencer grinned as he presented the bouquet in your face. "Who else?"

You offered a quick thank you before rushing towards the kitchen where you relocated the flowers into a vase. Spencer followed closely behind, gaze never straying far from you as you pranced around the space fluidly.

"It's pretty." You hummed appreciatively as you set the vase on the kitchen peninsula. "Thank you, Spencer."

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he replied. Spencer's stare raked over your entire figure for the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes, a twinkle in his eyes when he finally found your expectant gaze directed at him. "You know, the party venue isn't really far from here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Spencer whispered, stealthily moving towards you as if he was a predator stalking its prey. "And the party doesn't start for another fifteen minutes anyway, so there's no reason for us to leave right away."

A familiar fire burned brighter behind your eyes with every inch of distance Spencer managed to consume. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely." He was standing in front of you now, fingers dancing up and down your arms calling for goosebumps to rise on their wake. "Besides, I don't think anyone would mind if we arrive a few minutes late, right? After all, it's not our party."

"No, it's not." You gasped when Spencer shoved your body towards him, your chest flush against his to the point where you could feel the thumping of his heart on top of yours. "Fuck, Spencer. Just kiss me."

Groaning, Spencer didn't waste a single second before he claimed your lips in a hungry kiss. Spencer's palms roamed every expanse of flesh he could reach, eager to hear you sing his praises in the form of enraptured moans and gasps that elicited a blazing flame inside his own body.

Needless to say, as much as Spencer loved seeing you in that dress, he didn't think there was any greater sight than watching it thrown haphazardly on the floor.

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owlyjules · 8 months

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Hello wooOooOo and other ghost sounds :)

Lately your piece Chanterelles has been living rent-free in my head, it's so beautiful!! I would love to hear about your inspirations/process for that piece? if you don't mind of course!! Love how you captured magic and whimsy wah <3

Hello!!:D Nice to see another ghost friend in my inbox!

So for that one the idea was pretty simple!

First I looked at pictures of chanterelles

They have such a nice frilly top! But I wanted to avoid making the top into a dress so I could keep the "Shape" of the mushroom.

So I played around a bit with the idea of them going on a walk and ended up with this final sketch.

That way I still had a bit of the frilly down into a dress but kept the top still recognizable as a mushroom.

eventually as I painted the colours changed into way more rich oranges and yellows and you have the final piece.:)

I am so glad you like it so much.:D

#my art #the ghosts are asking #process #art tips

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pinkaditty · 4 months

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Pervert Pt 3 (Newspaper Club; Obey Me!SWD)

ohhhh my GOOOOOOOOOOOD i finally did it. it's over it's over it's over i did it i did it everyone enjoy this. holy shit

a/n: PERVERT PART THREE AS PROMISED WOOOOOOO!! i finally finished i promised id deliver and here we are!! some of these may be out of character because im slightly unfamiliar with these characters BUT i hope you all enjoy regardless. please let me know if you enjoyed! next, im working on all these asks that keep pouring in...

cw: fem!mc (undergarments such as bras and panties are mentioned, but mc could be a crossdresser), fem undergarments, perverted behavior, underwear stealing, etc. let me know if i missed anything!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, AS USUAL. PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY.

Mephistopheles:

He immediately startles and drops the panties to the floor. His lips twitch downwards into a frown and his gloved fingers curl into fists. His face burns red with embarrassment. Poor guy. The richest, most prestigious, most prominent noble of the entire Devildom, known for keeping his cool and being as haughty as a King… is frozen in place, here, watching you with wide eyes, after being caught rooting around through your laundry, for what anyone could assume were less than pure intentions.

It’s not a very good day for him.

If he wants to say something, he can’t. You watch as his mind spins, trying to come up with a notable retort, but you are both well aware that by the time he does, the tremendous pause in your discussion, already quite long and stifling, will have rendered it useless. You are both at a standstill, you clearly with the upper hand. But you know Mephisto, and how he’s not one to back down. But it’s not like you will, either.

When you take a step towards him, he jolts back, broken out of his frozen trance. He sputters indignantly, desperately coming up with something to say in response.

“F-First of all!” He’s practically spitting the words out at you, furious red blush across his face. You wait for him to speak, but he appears to have trouble getting anything out. All that he can get out for a few moments is nothing but false starts, angry sighs, and mortified groans. Then, he finally speaks. “If you so much as mention this to anyone else…!”

You want to say he’s already bluffing without hearing the rest of his threat. What could he do to possibly save his reputation from such an incredible embarrassment? He’s far too honest to paint you as a liar, and far too kind to blame you, anyway. If anything, the only thing he would do is refuse to admit the truth and never speak of the topic. Which, honestly, was probably the best that could come out of this… If he was willing to leave it behind, at least.

You were admittedly more curious about what drove him to this level. He had never been too slow to show his obvious disdain for humans, especially you for your closeness to Diavolo. He was plenty kind, but he wasn’t nice, and that was that. So, after showing nothing short of polite dislike for you… What was he doing here? Part of you almost couldn’t believe it. The human hater himself… chasing after a whiff of human pheromones? Sexual ones, at that?

You only realize he was lecturing you on keeping quiet when you return from your thoughts.

“-And quite frankly, I believe you owe it to me to keep quiet. It’s not every day I open my doors to anyone - a human, no less - and allow them to stay temporarily simply because the demon lost his temper.” He turns away and huffs, crossing his arms. In his rambling, his blush had significantly lessened, and his embarrassment faded. “I am only doing this for the sake of Lord Diavolo.”

Yeah, right.

You decide to be teasing. The amused expression on your face turns into a questioning one, eyebrow raised and lips quirked downwards. “Which part are you doing for Lord Diavolo’s sake? Taking me in or stealing my intimates?”

He sputters immediately at your question, looking at you incredulously. “I-!” He starts, and you can almost tell he was going to say something along the lines of ‘I beg your pardon!’ and then realized he was in no position to say such things. “You…!” He points at you, as though to get a point across, then falters and retracts. He is visibly fuming, clearly very angry that he is unable to get a proper retort out. It takes everything in you not to laugh at him. “Ugh!” He turns on his heel and begins to walk away, and almost manages to, before you toss the panties he dropped right at the back of his head. He stops in his tracks, curling his hands into fists at his sides. He is absolutely seething, and you can tell. He plucks them off of his head and grips them tightly, as if to send you a threatening message. You only laugh.

“Come back to me when you’d like a fresh pair!” You giggle at him and walk back into the laundry room to finish your chore. As you complete your wash, you hear his grumbling and stomping all the way down the hall. He does not return the panties.

Raphael:

Wordlessly, silently, he startles, staring at you like a deer in headlights. His eyes widen like saucers, but his lips remain closed. The longer he stands there, idling, the more you wonder what exactly he's hoping to achieve. He doesn't so much as twitch.

After you think you've been standing here long enough, waiting for him to move, you roll your eyes and harden your gaze on him.

“Gonna give them back or not, pervert?” You crook an eyebrow upwards and tilt your head at him. He looks down, almost visibly deflating. His reaction is almost unexpected. He looks genuinely sad, looking pitifully down at the panties he held in his hand.

You got the slight feeling that this was probably an act, but you didn’t comment on it. You simply shook your head and held out your hand, motioning for him to hand them over. Politely, he does, gently placing them in your hand and bowing his head, pursing his lips. “I… I apologize, MC. This won’t happen again.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “It shouldn’t,” you said firmly, turning away from him to move to complete the wash, before continuing, “At least, not without my permission first.”

You hear his sudden intake in breath, but decide not to pay it any mind. The weight of the realization on him hangs heavily in the air, joined by absolute silence except for your movements, putting your laundry in the wash. You have to wait a while before you hear him open and close his mouth a few times, clearly conflicted on what to say, before he finally stammers, “Wh-What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” you start, turning to him, holding another lacy pair of panties in you hands, “that I wouldn’t mind if you needed my pheromones so badly for a fix. You just have to be a good boy and ask.”

He sputters indignantly for a moment, his eyes widening, and a blush spreading across his face. You only smile, and turn back to your chore, wordlessly continuing to put them away. He shuffles in place before helping you, probably attempting to sweeten the deal before he asks. You don’t mind, however, and let him assist you.

When the chore is finally done and the wash is going, he turns to you. “I know you probably don’t have any I could use now…” He speaks slowly, as though carefully considering every word before it comes out. It must be a difficult request. “But, when they start to pile up, would it… be alright, if I borrowed some?” He doesn’t look at you. He can’t bear to. He doesn’t need to, though. The embarrassment is painted quite clearly all over his face and ears, a deep shade of red. He’s looking down at his clasped hands and worrying his lip between his teeth. Was it this important to him to be able to indulge himself? You find yourself more and more surprised at the attitudes of these demons and angels day after day.

“Sure.” You simply sigh, amused by his shyness. Your face twists into a smirk, however, when an offer comes to mind. “In fact… Maybe when the day is done, I can give you the pair I’m wearing now. How does that sound?”

He’s practically frozen now, the blush across his face the only thing capable of melting him. He swallows roughly and stiffly nods, walking away robotically to leave the room. You only watch him, amused, thinking about how the ending of your day would go.

Thirteen:

She yelps, jumping ten feet into the air in surprise at your sudden appearance. She fumbles the panties in her hands, looking guilty as ever. Her eyes flick from you to her hands nervously, as though fearing judgment. Before you can say anything, she clenches her hands shut, squeezing her eyes shut tight, and begins apologizing profusely. “I’m sorry, MC! This really shouldn’t have happened, I just got way too curious and I had to-! Well…” She trails off, biting her lip. “I hope you aren’t too mad at me… I still do want that soul of yours, y’know.” She says this innocently, as though you’ll forgive her if she widens her eyes and pouts her lips. Which, honestly, would be tempting, but it’s less so tempting when you glance down to the panties she still clutches in her grasp. She notices this and hides them behind her, a blush creeping onto her face.

“Hey… you wouldn’t mind me keeping these, would you? Your soul is nice and all, but…” She pouts, very clearly for show, and looks at you with wide eyes, begging without saying anything. You’re ready to call bullshit on her, and quite loudly at that. However, you simply sigh, exhausted, and hold out your hand.

“Come on. Hand them over.”

She sighs begrudgingly and hands them over, plopping them down in your hand. “You’re no fun.” She struts away from you and plops down on a nearby chair, sighing dramatically and laying across the chair in a fainting pose. “Could’ve kept something of my beloved’s for when they inevitably return to the underworld, but no. I’ve got to sit here and long for them.” She sighs dramatically again, melting into the chair. You roll your eyes and walk over to her, peering down at her.

“How about I come back? Visit with a fresher pair?” A wicked smile grows on your face as you say this, the thought of the offer stirring you with mirth.

She shoots up at once, her light blush deepening into a cherry red. She looks at you with wide eyes and her mouth slightly parted in shock.

“...Do you mean it?”

“Sure.” You say, shrugging, and stepping back from her. You smile at her, as though waiting for her to take the offer. Of course, she snaps at it.

“Hmm. I still want those ones. They’re pretty and purple.” She points to the ones you’re holding, a wide smirk on her face now. You only roll your eyes again.

“Fine. But only if you wash them.”

“Deal.”

a/n: woooooooohooooooooo! it's finally done! im so, so sorry for making you all wait so long! thank you so much for being so patient with me! please, enjoy this, and don't be afraid to leave a comment, reblog, or sumbit an ask! i love to know what you all think of my writing!

#obey me #minors dni #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #omswd #obey me!#obey me solmare #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto x mc #obey me raphael #obey me raphael x reader #obey me raphael x mc #obey me thirteen #obey me thirst #obey me thirteen x reader #obey me thirteen x mc

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cptnleviackerman · 6 months

Text

"Am I your lockscreen?"

jean kirstein x gn reader

content - modern au, fluff, jean calls reader pretty, jean gets embarrassed when you look at his phone words - 1k

"Do you seriously think you have better moves than me, Kirstein?"

Jean tilts his head, but keeps his eyes focused on the screen, not wanting to let your taunting get to him.

The two of you had been engaged in a close battle of video games all afternoon, currently playing a 3 round game of tennis on the Wii to decide which one of you gets to choose the place you'll order food from for dinner.

"Babe, just watch this serve and you'll be eating your words." He brings his arm back in preparation for his tennis serve. "Just like you'll be eating Chinese food for dinner!"

Jean ends his sentence with a whoop, clearly already planning his victory as he prepares to undergo what he assumes will be his final few swings.

The first swing is his serve, a nice and solid start in which he had you leaping to cover your end of the court.

"You know if I win this set I win the entire match, right? It's match point, baby."

You scoff, trying your best to ignore him.

His second swing has your heart beating frantically, and even though your eyes have been trained on his every move on screen, you still almost miss it—managing to save it by the skin of your teeth.

"I love you baby, but there ain't no way I'm letting you win right now."

And he's right. His third swing is his most forceful yet, and you're pretty sure he almost let go off the Wii remote—thank god you told him to use the remote straps.

You groan the second your Mii misses the tennis ball, but it's drowned out by Jean's incredibly loud, and giddy, cheering.

"Wooooooo! Aw yeah, ah ye— did you see that, babe?—ah yeah, I'm a genius, I literally nailed that!—that was amazing."

His cheering bleeds into something more along the lines of a song, and you can't help but laugh as you reach across the sofa to pick up Jean's phone, thinking that you may as well get the menu up and ready to browse while he finishes his gloating.

"Yeah yeah yeah, it's probably for the best anyway, you're such a sore loser—"

Jean turns to look at you—ready to take all your teasing about how much of a bad loser he is, and how you let him win this game to save your poor ears from having to hear all his whining—when his eyes widen.

“Am I your lockscreen?” You ask, stunned.

ShitShitShit

Jean grimaces.

Act dumb.

“What are you talking about? I… I don’t think I have a lockscreen at the moment.”

Not that dumb.

You smile, narrowing your eyes slightly in amusement as Jean’s mouth opens and closes.

"And you're sure about that, huh?"

"I think maybe Eren changed it the other day…"

You stare at him, watching the cogs turning in his head.

"I never change my lockscreen—I wouldn't even know how to—and if I did I'd only ever change it to something really good—not that you're not good—shit—I mean like, a good photo of the sky or a nice group shot or a pic of my dog—not that I think you're like my dog—you're really pretty—not that my dogs not pretty—it's a different type of pretty, you know? You wouldn't compare apples to oranges—no wait—that's not right…"

Jean looks to the ground as he trails off—not daring to meet your eyes. He could feel the tips of his ears burning. His face felt hot. His heart was racing wildly.

God. That was a mess.

“Jean?”

He continues avoiding your eyes, willing the ground to open up and swallow him right where he stood.

“Jean?” You ask again, “Is this photo from my instagra—”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” Jean says quickly.

You look at him for a second—watching his chest rise and fall rapidly, and seeing how his hands are beginning to shake—and you take a step towards him.

“Jean, would you please look at me?”

He doesn't.

“Baby, I’m serious,” you try not to smile at his stubbornness, “it's very, super, extremely important that you look at me right now.”

You step in front of your boyfriend, placing your hands on his cheeks and angling his head so he is forced to look at you.

“I’m not mad, Jean. I’m not upset or confused or embarrassed, or whatever it is that you think I'm feeling right now.”

Jean furrows his eyebrows, but he doesn’t dare to interrupt.

“I love it. A lot. And I can't believe I didn’t know—wait, is this what Eren was teasing you about the other day?”

Jean nods, and you're unable to stop the smile that lights up your face.

“Oh my god… you’re the sweetest guy ever.”

You move your hands from his face, and instead settle your arms around his waist, pulling him ever so slightly closer to you.

“Why didn't you want me to know?”

“I don’t know… I think maybe I thought it was too soon…?” Jean says, his voice rising as he reaches the end of his sentence.

You shake your head.

“It’s not too soon, definitely not at all. I love it, okay?”

“Okay.” Jean smiles.

“Just promise me one thing—”

“Anything.”

“Next time you want a photo for your lockscreen, just ask me. I don’t want you to be forced to use the same photos that everybody gets to see. I want you to have something special.”

Jean feels his cheeks flare up with warmth at your words, but he nods his head.

Satisfied, you untangle your arms from around his waist and plop yourself down on the sofa, holding his phone out towards him.

Jean’s puzzled look causes you to let out a small giggle.

“Baby… You won, now come over here and order me some Chinese food.”

Jean grins, his cocky winner demeanour suddenly returning as he sits down next to you, flopping himself practically on top of you and slinking his arm around your shoulder.

“Give me that phone babe, it's time for the winner to choose the dinner.”

#he's so cute I want him so bad #want to pepper his face in kisses #mwah mwah mwah fr #jean kirstein fic #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein fic #sage.fics #aot fic

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 1 year

Text

“you’re the only one that makes me Powerless tonight”

“and you can devastate my personal space i never liked it anyway.”

synopsis// alone and lonely were two very different things. gojo was never alone but he was tired of being lonely, at least that was until you showed up.

pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader

word count// 1.4k

contents// angsty gojo?, gojo never turns off his infinity and never lets people touch him in any context!, ooc gojo probably, angst in general if u squint

notes// yep you guessed it! a waterparks song did in fact inspire this! todays inspiration is powerless!!! wooooooo!!!

Gojo Satoru was by no means alone. Whether he was with the higher-ups or other sorcerers or with his students, he was always with someone, around someone. Gojo Satoru was by no means alone, but he was by every means lonely. There was always a wall between him and everyone, metaphorically and quite literally, considering his infinity. only one person had ever been able to get past it, and that was when he was in jujutsu high himself, only one person until you.

Yaga had called Gojo in one day for what he thought was a meeting, but upon arriving, he was met with you, standing there in all your glory, hands clasped together as you smiled sweetly at Gojo, who could now actively feel his pulse quickening the longer he stared at you.

“Gojo, meet L/N; they're a new teacher here. In fact, they'll be working with you and your first years," Yaga catches Gojo up as he begins walking toward you two.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” you say happily as you offer your hand out to him for a handshake.

Gojo catches himself about to shake your hand but stops himself before he can do so. That’s not Gojo; Gojo doesn't shake hands, and Gojo doesn’t turn off his infinity, so why was he about to? just for you? He clears his throat and smiles smugly. “Sorry, pretty. I don't shake hands.”

Your mouth forms a slight “o” shape as you retract your hand and go back to clasping it together with your other. “Sorry!” you apologize sincerely.

Yaga quirks up an eyebrow at Gojo in question, having witnessed the whole interaction, and the only thing Gojo can do is flash his signature smile.

Yaga sighs. “Right well, that’s all. They start tomorrow with you, Gojo. Get them informed on your class, yeah?” He says this before walking out of the room.

“Nice to meet you!” You call out to Yaga, who is long gone at this point. “So Gojo, what’s our class like?”

Gojo catches himself smiling like an idiot at your use of “our.” He likes the sound of that; he likes it a lot, a little too much, actually.

“Just call me Satoru.”

Everything after that was history. Gojo and you had quickly taken to each other like no other, catching everyone by surprise. Mostly because Gojo hadn't let himself take to anyone since he was in Jujutsu High, so why should you be any different? Nobody knew why, and he certainly didn't know why either, which is what scared him; it’s what’s made him keep you at arm's length; it’s what’s made him keep the quite literal invisible wall between you two.

But none of that stopped you; you were still just as enticed by Gojo as was everybody else, but you were different. You didn't fall for him because he was Gojo, the strongest sorcerer; you fell for him because he was just Satoru to you; you saw him when he was see-through, and maybe that's exactly why he keeps you at arms length. Because being truly known scares Gojo, allowing someone to truly know him again is what keeps Gojo up at night, even if deep down that's all he really wants.

It’s been about a year at this point of you and Gojo being friends that aren't just friends but also aren't together but also aren't not together. In simpler terms, it's been about a year at this point of you and Gojo being together without actually being together. This isn’t to say you haven't tried; you have, kind of. You’ve never wanted to push too hard, afraid that it would do more harm than good. You would try and plan dates with Gojo, telling him you’d make time for him and that you were waiting on his greenlight, but apparently his light was always red, occasionally yellow, but never green. never.

But now you’re sick of waiting for the right time. You're sick of not being pushy; you're sick of being whatever it is you are with Gojo; you’re either together or you're not. You need answers; you need to know if he needs you like you need him, which is how you found yourself at his front door at midnight. You find yourself hesitating to knock on his door but end up knocking anyway; you didn't come out all this way in the cold only to end up not knocking. After a few moments, you're still out in the cold, so you knock harder, only to end up knocking on Gojo, well—you would have had his infinity been off.

“Y/n?” he asks grogily.

“Gojo,” you reply back flatly, nodding as a form of greeting.

Gojo’s face scrunches up in confusion and slight disgust at his last name coming from you as he moves out of the way to allow you in.

“Did I do something?” he asks curiously as he watches you walk into his living room.

“yes.. no! .. maybe? ugh, I don't know,” you respond vaguely as you stand in front of his couch and turn to look at him.

Gojo now finds himself a few feet in front of you, every part of him aching to just hold you. “You don't know?” he asks quietly.

you groan. “What are we, Gojo?”

Gojo winces at you using his last name again. “Can you stop calling me Gojo?”

You frown. “okay fine. What are we, Satoru?” You purposely draw out his first name as if to mock him.

He matches your frown, his eyebrows scrunching together as he questions, “Where is this coming from?”

You scoff. “You can't even tell me!”

"Y/n no, I'm just confused," Gojo responds sheepishly.

You sigh. “Satoru, I'm in love with you.”

Gojo goes wide-eyed; he had pretty much already known, but hearing you say it outright still takes him by surprise, and suddenly, with the way his pulse is quickening, he's taken back to the first time he met you. “Y/n-“

You don't give him a chance to speak, raising your finger at him as if telling him to shut up, and he does. “I am so in love with you, but I can’t keep doing whatever we’re doing, Satoru.”

“What are we doing?” he asks with a frown.

“I don't know!” you exclaim. “That's the problem, Satoru! I need to know if you’re in because I have been in since the moment I met you, Satoru, so now it’s your turn. Do you love me, Satoru?”

Gojo bites the inside of his cheek, and his eyes are stinging; he might just actually cry. He inhales and exhales deeply. “Y/n, I love you so much that it scares me,” he whispers back because he thinks if he talks any louder, his voice will crack.

Now it's your turn for your eyes to sting, along with your lips starting to tremble. Scratch that—every part of you is beginning to tremble as you watch him step closer to you. “Then prove it,” you reply meekly yet sternly.

Gojo doesn’t say a word. The way he wants to prove it doesn't involve him speaking; it involves him wrapping you in his embrace, which is exactly what he does, and you go stiff at feeling him touch you for the first time. You blink a few times in disbelief before grabbing whatever part of him you can get your hands on—his back, shoulders, arms, neck, hair, face—everything and anything. You’re trying to memorize his body whole in case this is the first and only chance you’ll get to ever touch him.

He stifles a laugh at how your hands won't stay still on him, and he kisses your forehead, and the two of you stay like that for a few moments, his lips against your forehead, while you try to memorize Gojo whole. Eventually, you finally stop and wrap your arms around him just like his are around you; your heart is about to practically jump out of your chest with how hard it’s beating.

Gojo is the first to break the silence. “So, I was thinking maybe we could get away? call it a date?” He mumbles against your forehead.

“Is this real?” you ask breathlessly.

Gojo laughs as he pulls away slightly, arms still around you, in order to look at you face-to-face. “Of course this is real. Am I just that amazing that you can't believe I'm real?” he asks as a smirk tugs at his lips.

Despite the grin on your face, you roll your eyes at him. "Oh, shut up! It's just... does this mean you're in?" You ask nervously.

Gojo hums before he leans in and kisses you passionately, yet keeps it short and sweet by breaking the kiss just to mumble.

“Yeah, i'm in.”

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