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#or at least an attempt at humor
steviewashere · 13 days
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If Found, Return to Me
Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1
Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow
👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.
Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”
Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.
Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.
But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”
He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.
And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.
He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”
Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”
She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.
“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”
Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”
Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”
In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”
“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”
Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“
“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.
——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. “Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.
Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”
“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“
“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.
He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.
He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.
It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”
“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”
The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’
When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”
“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.
Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”
Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.
——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.
Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”
Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”
And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.
But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.
Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.
Or…Where Steve should have been.
“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.
Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”
There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”
Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.
Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“
“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”
“I didn’t think—“
“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”
“You sure?”
“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”
When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”
Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.
Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.
——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.
At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.
What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.
However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.
Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.
“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”
“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“
“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“
“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”
“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts. 
He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.
Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.
He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”
“Is what—“
“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“
“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”
“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.
He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”
“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”
“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”
Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”
Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”
The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”
“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.
The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.
👕—————👕
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Tim: Cereal is a type of soup.
Dick: ... How long have you been awake?
Jason: Shut up, Dickface! *Turns to Tim* Explain.
Tim: Stuff floating in liquid.
Jason: It's cold.
Tim: Gazpacho is also cold.
Dick: It's sweet.
Tim: Dessert soups are a thing.
Damian: Cereal is a breakfast food; soups are not.
Tim: 'Breakfast' or 'Dinner' foods is a social construct, and any food can be eaten at any ti- *passes out*.
Dick, Jason, and Damian: ...
Jason: Shit, I think cereal is a soup.
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hold on wait im unable to Scribble rn but i had this Lights Out interaction in my head and i need to put it somewhere before i forget. Okay so the scene is Howdy, Poppy, Frank, and Wally are all having quiet time in the post office. just vibing.
Howdy: i'm going to say something harsh
Poppy: that's alright. we understand <3
Frank: go ahead, it's better than bottling it up
Howdy:
Howdy, near tears: you're all so boring i think it's actually killing me
Poppy / Frank / Wally: ...
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dyketubbo · 4 months
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i hate that suicide jokes have become so common i think its genuinely having the same effect as the popularization of shit like delulu where people are getting so used to joking about suicide that they dont take it seriously anymore. tip for the people if you see someone online being suicidal and you dont know how to help the very least you can do is not reply with some sort of "well THAT just happened" type of comment or even worse a joke or passive encouragement ala "well i cant stop you i guess' (and if you post active encouragement go fuck yourself).
i know people are already addressing how suicide jokes are like self deprecation jokes where they just keep you stuck in a mentally unwell state but there should be more talk about how them becoming popular again is genuinely desensitizing people to suicidal ideation and even worse desensitizing people to actual suicide notes. take suicide seriously and if the person youre talking to tries to make it into a big joke either they really need help or theyre a really big asshole (and sometimes its both)
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Spoiler alert for The Sun and Moon Show
Y'know It sucks when you love Sun and Bloodmoon, at least in my case, why? Cause my opinions on them as characters and their storyline doesn't jell well together, like in Sun's case I believe he's justified for killing Bloodmoon, doesn't deserve to be shamed for It, especially not to his face, which he deserves a apology for... Moon (Still love you though), and doesn't deserve to be mentally and emotionally abused by (a possible hallucination of) Bloodmoon, but in Bloodmoon's case they're adorable, I miss them, and If they come back to life (assuming their dead, though they could be still alive but somewhere else instead of torturing Sun) a small part of me wants them redeemed so KC can have his sons back while still a changed man -er animatronic... Oh wait he's in the computer dammit.
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whumperofworlds · 10 months
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*Whumper attempting to kidnap Whumpee*
Whumpee, hunched over: Ugh, call an ambulance!
*Whumpee stands straight, pulling out a fcking gun and aiming it at Whumper*
Whumpee: But not for me!
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note-boom · 1 year
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My favourite grasping at straws parallel is the one where I thought Kyouka falling off the train into the water to symbolise her breaking away from the PM was a great callback to the way Dazai likes falling off things and drowning and he's left the PM....
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herd-reject-arts · 2 months
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I'm back, and so is this hot garbage/prime cut cringe 👍
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thevagabondexpress · 1 year
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Y'know, I remember the whole "winter is coming" phenomenon from Game of Thrones, and . . . a) living in the place that I do, and b) thinking of that line from Marissa Davis's If we had known, "the beast of summer, / which we did know, every year, would have us, in yellow mania, vaulting drought and flood", and c) what with climate change and all, the reverse, summer is coming, could be just as ominous if used correctly.
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aeide-thea · 8 months
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still picking my way thru s3 of the witcher episode by agonizing episode but it's going SO slowly bc every time i watch one it's just like. right. this show is a B movie now and not in a good way
#like it's not like NONE of it has been fun but it's just like. i enjoy the fandom but the source material is. not actually good#and people SO badly want to credit it with all this depth and sophistication it just absolutely does not have#but s1 was at least like. coherent and fun if unsubtle#s2 and s3 have just been this big spiral into like. an attempt at Fantasy Saga#which would be fine if they were good enough at storytelling to do that coherently#but unfortunately it's just like. disconnected scene after disconnected scene strung together by mediocre action and worse humor#all of which have looked weirdly pastede-on-yay in a way i don't know enough formal film language to articulate#but it's just like. it doesn't feel like the characters are actually moving through the world‚ visually#it's just costumed ppl shoehorned into backgrounds that are either (1) cartoonishly stagey (2) dreary irl countryside somewhere (3) bad CGI#and then geralt gets whumped and it's like. wait NOW you want us to care abt him? after sidelining him all season?#like. idk. structurally and emotionally the writing just sucks#and then the acting and visuals are. largely also bad. lol.#jaskier is probably one of the best bits really but then they give him so much material that's absolutely clownish#and it's like. i'm not opposed to humor but it's remarkable the way the juxtaposition of his tone with the overall tone of the show#manages to make BOTH vibes seem stupid somehow. honestly an achievement#however. big fan of predicted-by-me-but-still-good betrayal scene. like. he didn't even seem surprised which was perf honestly#'obviously you lived down to my expectations‚ that's just how life goes and has gone ever since geralt blew up at me on that mountain'#just like. makes total sense and also grants him some actual depth and dignity#now do that the whole time with all the characters challenge…#tvblogging#(i realize no1 currs but like. i do like 2 record my Thots On Media otherwise they all fall out of my head like a sieve)
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yay-depression · 1 year
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every day i set expectations and every day i’m reminded why i told myself not to do that
#feelings past 4 pm aren’t real anyways#it’s fine#my parents: tells me a gift is one thing#me: oh ok! cool!#me then actually trying to use it and realizing it is in fact nothing like they said: oh#was it a mistake? probably.#does it fall a little too neatly into a pattern of my parents simply forgetting or messing up things for/to do with me?#absolutely :)#just once i would like to go one holiday without being reminded that my parents actually don’t pay that much attention to ne#that would be nice#they’re getting better at least#my mom is starting to remember what kind of foods i at least don’t like#wish they’d stop repeatedly asking me things bc they seem to fucking ignore my answer every time but that’s a big ask from them so…#also wish they’d stop implying that the things i mention aren’t worth talking about but that’s an even bigger ask#it’s been a rough holiday season tbh#morbid humor about attempted offing of oneself coming up#my grandpa used to say the holidays were when he got the most ‘bridge jumpers’ as he used to call them (he was a psychiatrist)#and when i went to SC everyone was like ‘huh yeah ig that makes sense kind of wonder why tho’#as i was sitting there for like most of the holiday going#‘god i fucking hate my life’ and being so fucking lonely around ppl who were supposed to be my closest family members#it’s 12:47 happy fucking new year to me#great start to the year tatum crying alone in your bed waiting on texts from two separate people that won’t come#while your parents sleep for another 9 hours before they wake up and start asking passive aggressive questions#while they give you disappointed looks when you say that you are actually trying to rest over your winter break#only to then go to the movies with you best friends who you aren’t actually super close with bc no one you know really does emotional stuff#so then you get to go back home and cry yourself to sleep again (this is literally the third day in a row i’ve done this)#and feel alone despite having ppl who are supposed to love you :))#feelings past 4 pm aren’t real feelings past 4 am aren’t real feelings past 4 pm aren’t real#i think i’m getting depressed again /gen#can you tell?? /s
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dredshirtroberts · 1 year
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Fuck literally everyone who decided it was funny to scare me because I react big and would laugh as i fought off the panic response.
because i'm not with people like that anymore and i still expected laughter at an unintentional startle, and my big reaction upset the person who scared me and that's...that's not fair. They didn't know i couldn't see them, and they didn't know I would be so scared, and I was standing there wondering why they weren't laughing at my reaction because I am so fucking used to it.
My family did it, my extended family did it, my friends, my lovers, all of them. Because it was funny that I would scream and freak out whenever I was surprised by something unexpected.
But now that I'm with people who actually give a fuck about it me, I am so angry that this is my expectation of others. I didn't consent to being startled randomly every fucking day of my life just because it was funny to them. I didn't want to grow up like that. I didn't want that to be a form of entertainment for others in that way unless I was actively volunteering to go through a haunted house setting.
And my partner shouldn't have to feel like they've done something wrong because I (who has bad vision anyway) couldn't see them until they moved, and I shouldn't feel like I did something wrong because they didn't laugh at me as I tried not to have a full-ass panic attack.
Fuck all of the other people who were in my life before I moved. Fuck every single one of them. I didn't deserve that and neither does anyone around me. Because no one in my life currently is a fucking monster who thinks it's funny to startle people who have a fucking anxiety disorder.
fuck.
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Headcannon- Plo and his niece, Sha, were absolute menaces as children and had to be put in a high-security vault if the crechemasters didn't want them to escape for five minutes
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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✎ wife
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- gojo satoru x reader
in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher's wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds
genre: fluff, crack, gojo being a silly little menace as always, yuji and nobara are confused, an attempt at humor, lovesick gojo, mention of breastfeeding
note: it’s so silly but i had fun writing this! based on a request by anon (thank you!) but i tweaked it a bit and partly inspired by this fanart. reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high and has a baby with gojo—loosely a continuation of protect
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"Take that off immediately!"
"Kyaaah~! Yuji is here, you pervert!"
Yuji was a laughing mess. Megumi and Nobara collectively sighed. Nanami attempted to retrieve his once-immaculate suit, now a crumpled mess, from the one and only Gojo Satoru, who found humor in stealing his signature attire and impersonating the stern-faced Nanami in front of his fresh batch of first years.
"He is incorrigible," Nobara grumbled, her eyes slitting. They said that he was a strong sorcerer, possibly the strongest there was, but she found it really hard to believe.
Megumi threw her a deadpan stare. With many years of putting up with this kind of antics under his belt, he pitied her for not knowing that this was far from the worst. "Yeah, he is."
"How does anyone ever put up with him?"
That was actually a good question. "We don't..." Megumi paused, recalling each and every occasion where he tried to do so. "His wife is probably the only one who can."
Nobara sputtered, spinning towards him. "What the—wife? That annoying man has an actual, living, breathing wife?"
"Who? Gojo-sensei?" Yuji chimed in, jumping into the conversation, leaving the supposedly two adults in their catfight. Nanami was still clawing to get his suit back, and Gojo continued to giggle and evade him, playfully running away.
Nobara scoffed. "I bet the woman just married him for the money. He comes from prestigious clan, yes? That must be it."
Yuji felt his eyes would pop out of its sockets. "What are you talking about, Kugisaki!? What woman—"
"Shut up, Itadori! Don't be too loud!"
Nobara and Yuji's unharmonious ruckus irritated Megumi to the bone, and he decided that the best course of action now was to leave them all in the dust. With a glare and a shake of his head, he stalked away.
And thus the two new first years were left with half-truths that would lead them into a major misadventure later that day—
—which happened when they spotted Nanami with you, whom they were still unfamiliar with.
They were convinced that Gojo’s wife must be some sort of boring tramp eyeing his wealth and not this positively radiant, mature woman, and so ruling that possibility out, they positively swooned at the sight before them.
"He's irresponsible, egotistical—" snippets of Nanami's frustrated words conveyed enough to paint a picture of Gojo's character. He was definitely ranting about Gojo to you.
"Is that Nanamin's wife?" Yuji mused, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "She is so pretty..."
"They... look cute together," Nobara hummed with dreamy eyes, and then looked at Yuji sharply. "And yes, she's indeed pretty, but know your place, Itadori!"
"I know!"
Based on how the two of you interacted, they concluded that you must have been close, with the way Nanami visibly relaxed around you, and not as formal as he was with anyone else. They highly suspected that the two of you were married, as you wore a ring, which was the ultimate sign.
"And how's the baby?" Nanami asked then, directing the question to you with a smile on his face, prompting surprised gasps from both Yuji and Nobara.
You were glowing, to say the least, and when you let out a small giggle at his question, even both students couldn't miss the way your expression exuded pure happiness. "He is well. Ah, I really wanted to bring him along too, but he was a little messy after eating so I left him at home. You can see him later…"
Yuji gaped. "So it's true..."
"Oh my gosh... and they have a baby." Nobara almost squealed.
And that sealed it. The headline of the day: Nanami is married to this stunning woman wandering the school grounds.
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So imagine their utter shock when the second time they found you, you were with Gojo, and he was shamelessly snogging you in the hallway.
“Why are you here?” Gojo was breathless after the soul-sucking kiss he smothered you. His tone remained playful yet carried a clear undertone of concern. "You're still on maternity leave. I'll make sure Yaga knows that."
“Satoru,” you whined, and the use of his given name made Yuji and Nobara gasp in disbelief. “I’m perfectly okay and I don’t need to breastfeed anymore. I should start getting back to work.”
Nobara seemed to finally understand the implication. But Yuji didn’t. His mind flitting from one scandalous idea to another—
Gojo-sensei seducing Nanamin’s wife? Nanamin’s wife cheating on him with Gojo-sensei?
In the brief period he spent with Gojo, Yuji realized that he didn't exactly have a reputation for decency. So despite himself, he could only muster up this one word: “Homewrecker. Homewrecker!”
Yuji’s shriek took all three of you by surprise, and now both you and Gojo were aware of his presence.
“You absolute idiot,” Nobara hissed, face-palming.
“Oh, Yuji? Nobara?” Gojo genially asked, his concern towards you quickly dissolved into a meaningful smirk on his face. “And what do you mean by—?”
Yuji yelped. “You! You are! You’re trying to seduce Nanamin’s wife!”
Silence. Gojo’s eyes twitched beyond his blindfold. You blinked. Nobara wanted to save herself from the second-hand embarrassment. And his loud voice caught the attention of Megumi too, who was close by.
“You seem to be mistaken. First of all, Nanami isn’t married,” Gojo said with a strained voice, maintaining his smile. He then gestured at you, showing you off with pride. “And this here, is my wife.”
“Y-your wife?!” Yuji exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “H-how?! I saw her with Nanamin! Talking about a baby—”
“That would be my baby.”
“But how?!”
“Yuji, do you want me to give you a crash course in baby-making—”
“Satoru!”
You sent him a glare and turned to the young first years with a smile. "You must be the new first years? I’m Y/N, and I’m in charge of the second years.” You gestured towards your husband. “And please, ignore most things he says. He’s a bit crass, and if you ever feel he's harassed you, don't hesitate to report it to me."
“Wifey! How could you!”
“Shut up, Satoru! You’re embarrassing yourself!”
“What are you doing here?” Megumi inquired with a deep frown, getting between Yuji and Nobara as they stared at Gojo in total bewilderment.
Yuji exclaimed in disbelief, pointing at you. “Fushiguro! Gojo-sensei’s wife is a beauty!”
“…I know that already.”
Nobara whipped her head towards him. "You knew?! Since when?!"
“They… took me in.”
“THEY WHAT?!”
Gojo grinned at their chorus of surprise. “And what a fine boy he turns out to be, eh?”
Megumi scowled, but Gojo wasn’t bothered at all. If anything, what offended him was—
"What makes you think my dear wife here belongs to Nanami instead of me?" he joked with a mock scoff, earning an eye roll from you.
Nobara and Yuji blurted out their thoughts simultaneously.
“They look good together?”
“Nanamin is dependable?”
Gojo gasped dramatically, one hand flying to his mouth. "So, not only do I not look good with her, but I also don't seem dependable enough?" He turned to you with the most aghast expression. “Tell me that isn’t true—”
You shot him a withering look, deadpanning, “Actually, you might be.”
And Gojo clutched his chest, letting out an anguished cry.
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Epilogue
“Satoru… come on, you know I was joking.”
Your dramatic ass of a husband had his head on your lap, hugging your torso tight. The pout on his face hadn’t faded a bit ever since he was done with his class, and now on your marital bed, he was clinging to you with all of his might.
He shook his head petulantly, clicking his tongue. “You’ve embarrassed me in front of my students. You’re so mean!”
You sighed. “I’m sure you have made a fool out of yourself far often. This is insignificant.”
“Hmph! How could you say that?! I don't care if it's me, but I can't believe that it's coming from you! I shower you with my undivided love each and every day!”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Somehow seeing him like this made your heart lurch. He reminded you so much of your baby boy who was sleeping right in the next room that you couldn't resist smiling and pinching his cheeks.
“Okay, okay. My husband is handsome, looks good with me and definitely someone I can rely on,” you relented, and like a lightbulb going off, Satoru suddenly beamed so wide that you were certain his cheeks hurt.
“That’s more like it! Now, now, there’s only one way that can prove how responsible I am! Let me just fill you up with another baby—”
You smacked him on the head.
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gobblewonkrs · 10 months
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The funniest thing about being back on here now is that the app is fucking broken seemingly. Like usually in an annoying way but recently in a funny way because it's advertising has given up and won't stop showing me this same 1 ad about like some fucking health supplement.
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tender-rosiey · 3 months
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“IT’S LAUGHING?! IT’S ALIVE?!”
— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, and toji hearing the baby’s first laugh (f!reader)
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a/n: guess who's back, back again then I will be gone again (probably)
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GOJO SATORU:
your husband is, admittedly, a very funny guy.
his humor always manages to get to people one way or another, so even if he doesn’t get a laugh, he certainly gets some sort of reaction.
not with his little angel though, the one person that he would die to see her laugh.
no matter how much tickling or raspberries he blew, it was never a laugh, merely a smile or a very short giggle if he was lucky.
he would come across a ton of videos of babies having hearty laughs and simply wished to be able to get the same reaction out of his daughter.
it is the reason he is currently burying his face in your chest and whining, “I feel like she thinks I am just not that funny.”
“satoru, she is still a baby,” you hum, fingers carding through his hair, “you know that babies have different views about what is actually funny; actually, I saw baby not long ago at a photo of number eleven. it was so cute!”
“but I tried everything! even the unusual!” he huffs, standing up to retell all of his failed attempts, “I tried dropping stuff, quickly stirring a liquid, lightly touching her with a balloon—everything!”
he looks at his daughter with his best puppy eyes, “come on, d/n! isn’t there anything that would you laugh a belly laugh?”
a little idea pops into your head. giggling, you sneak off leaving your daughter trying to comfort her wailing papa the best she can.
d/n is caught up with satoru until you finally come back and she smiles, “mama!”
“hi baby!” you grin before smacking your husband—lightly but not so lightly—with a roll of newspaper.
he yelps, “y/n! why would you do that?!”
but he is cut off by his little girl laughing, and I mean laughing so hard she kind of leans back.
you wait until she is quiet again before smacking him with the roll one more time, and she, once more, starts laughing heartily with small little wheezes and a long breath in the end when she calms down.
your husband, mortified, picks his daughter up, “d/n! you’re not supposed to laugh when papa gets hit! you’re supposed to get sad!”
she starts giggling and kicking her feet, putting her hand lightly on his nose. she tilts her head confused, and satoru thinks he knows what she is waiting for him to say. he shan’t falter!
at least, that’s what he thinks.
d/n takes matter into her own hands and smacks him on the forehead, resulting in him yelping and her going into a laughing fit that lasted a minute or so.
how unfortunate that his most precious takes pleasure in him being hurt.
his head snaps towards you, but he guesses that it makes sense since you also love teasing him so much.
a bunch of devils he says! two cute devils he laments.
GETO SUGURU:
geto is convinced that he was blessed with two angels, her cute little twins from his beautiful wife, you. he is also convinced that they would do no wrong—which is like what wrong can a baby a couple months old do anyway.
he ignores how gojo screams about being bullied by the girls, how that one mean babysitter was yapping about how they most definitely threw their toys at her intentionally, and how miguel syas that the girls always hide his glasses because they love seeing his stressed face.
to geto suguru, his daughters could do no wrong.
aside from that, he also noticed that his daughters love playing with hair, sometimes eating it which makes him scream but oh well.
for the most part, they know to treat their father’s hair gently as they watch you and himself do it.
that’s why he never thought that his darling angels would get their first belly laughs by pulling on his freaking bangs.
each twin holds one of the bangs and with all their baby power, they pull and pull almost like they want to tear it off his head.
and while he adores that his daughter are laughing so much—for the first time too—that they stumble back almost turn red, but he really doesn’t want to bald before heat least reaches his 50 or something.
another problem is that you never interfere unless he straight up screams for your help.
that made him realize how much of a common occurrence it is and he finally decided that he needed to put his foot down.
so he sat his girls down—including you because you’ve tolerated the violation of your husband’s hairline so much—and took a deep breath.
“girls, we need to learn that papa’s hair is fragile and we shouldn’t pull on it so much,” he turns to you with the quirk of an eyebrow. “right, honey?”
you barely hold back your smile before nodding and loyally supporting your husband, “why, of course, my love!”
he rolls his eyes, “so, be good girls and don’t pull on my bangs, please?”
one of the twins, while the other frowns and starts fussing. you lock eyes with your husband, and you both try to telepathically figure how to handle this, until your other twin starts crying.
now, you have two crying babies.
congratulations!
so your husband concedes and kneels in front of them, bravely offering his bangs. almost instantly, they stop crying and start pulling the bangs on their respective sides.
they start laughing and squealing again, and geto starts to think that balding is a small price to pay for his angels’ happiness.
he should probably stop calling them that though.
NANAMI KENTO:
now, in constrant to nanami, his daughter came out all bubbly and smiley, and it had nanami going as soft as a marshmallow.
it also didn’t help that d/n is convinced that her dad is indeed a marshmallow in which that she could only touch him softly.
she would gently pat his cheeks, press clumsy little kisses to his forehead, and squeal in order to cuddle with you or him. she also is extremely empathetic and starts crying whenever she sees someone hurt or genuinely frowning.
that was also the reason why gojo adored her since her crying cut anyone’s session of bullying him short. though, of course, he buys her a ton of toys to make up and comfort her.
he fails to realize that the true way to comfort her is to place in your arms or nanami’s.
like that one time when she bumped her head lightly and started crying profusely, throwing punches at gojo who was supposed to be babysitting her—poor choice but who am I to judge. she screamed and squirmed, demanding she be comforted.
however, none of the toys gojo bought were working.
and the two of you were called into a mission, so he literally is rendered helpless. that is until nanami returns a tad bit early than planned, and satoru couldn’t have been more relieved.
he hurriedly places d/n in kento’s arms, and the little girl takes a few seconds to realize who is holding her now.
she looks up, smiling at her dad. he instantly smiles back, “hey there,” he hums, “did you miss me?”
anyway back to what i was saying: a very sensitive and empathetic baby, right?
so when one day, you have your girl perched on your lap and nanami is going all out with scolding gojo, no one expects your daughter to burst one laughing.
you giggle, looking at her, “d/n, you like seeing papa scold uncle gojo?”
gojo gasps, “what?!”
you usher your husband, “babe, try it again!”
nanami nods with determination and gathers everything gojo ever bothered him with and translates it into a bunch of very child-friendly insults.
with each reproach, gojo deflates and d/n starts laughing more, squealing and wheezing. your husband abandons the crushed gojo and goes to hold d/n in his hands, “you okay there?”
she squeals and reaches for her feet, eyes never leaving her father’s. you coo, “she is so cute!”
“I never imagined my daughter would laugh at the sight of me, out of all people, scolding gojo.”
a very wounded gojo screams, “well I sure did! you family of haters!”
your husband frowns, but before he can talk, d/n cups his face and starts babbling a bunch of nonsense. nonetheless, your husband hangs onto every bit of said nonsense. 
gojo takes that chance to flee to the hills.
meanwhile, you’re holding a camera and recording the lecture(?) your tiny angel is giving your husband.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your baby is the son of the all-mighty king of curses.
the man who sends terrors throughout the lands, the mere sight of his face is enough to cause someone to pee themselves.
everyone cowers in front of him, except you and more recently his son. on the contrary, in fact, your son can’t help but cackle whenever his dad puts on his “scary” face.
the first time it ever happened was when you were strolling the palace with s/n in your arms.
you know not to enter the throne room whenever sukuna has the villagers over to “hear their complains” as it almost always ended with him slicing one part of their body off.
you figured that it would be okay to at least pass by it since they always had the door closed—that started when you gave birth—but to your surprise, the door was open this time, giving you and your son a front row seat to sukuna degrading his subject.
“you’re wasting my time,” your husband states, and the villagers starts panicking.
“a-apologies my lord, pl-please grant me a-another chance!”
your husband scowls, “and now you’re ordering me around?”
the villager starts crying and kneels to the ground. on the other hand, your son couldn’t have been laughing more. his laugh echoed so loudly in the room that it drew everyone’s attention.
sukuna stares at the baby in your arms and scowls again, “y/n, why is he here?”
your son squeals and starts laughing again, hiding his face in your chest. you light up at his laughter, and sukuna finds himself livid at how the scene makes him feel content—until he notices the villager staring at you as well, what a short-lived happiness.
swiftly, sukuna slashes the villagers into cubes, and your son—who came out of his hiding spot—bursts into a fit of giggles that has you wondering just how much of sukuna’s sadism was passed to your darling son.
while you ponder over that, sukuna quickly makes his way to you, dismissing all the servants and tasking them with taking out the trash.
when your husband is right in front of you, you look up at him with a frown, “my son is laughing at torture, sukuna.”
“he is probably laughing at how pathetic the man looked,” he says as he smirks and pulls you close.
you huff and bounce s/n lightly, “shut up, old man.”
sukuna quirks an eyebrow and leans to be on your eye level. his hand is placed on your head, and he threatens, “you’re insulting your husband?”
s/n gasps lightly before harshly latching on sukuna’s face, fingers digging into his second pair of eyes. sukuna does not give any reaction except standing up to his full height.
your son, however, is relentless and is still hanging onto your husband’s face.
you don’t know how to react. sukuna doesn’t know how to react.
s/n just lets out a series of battle cries.
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
if there is anything that toji is doubtful of is whether his son actually loves him or not.
why you ask? well, the only thing that gets the kid laughing—aside from you laughing or smiling—is literally any inconvenience that happens to him.
he remembers that one time when shiu was over to discuss some business, nothing out of the norm. megumi was on just sat on his high chair beside toji since you were at work.
toji was just sipping on his coffee when he burned his tongue, “gosh damn it!”
shiu was about to make fun of him, but megumi beat him to it as he started laughing heartily, even taking breaths in between to calm down but to no avail.
toji’s eyes widen as he stands up to go to his son, “no way you’re laughing at me getting—what the hell?!”
toji groans after he bumps into the table, glaring at his son who starts laughing all over again. meanwhile, shiu chuckles and teases toji, “I think your son just loves you so much, doesn’t he?”
your husband rises to his feet, quickly carrying megumi and lifting him in the air. he grumbles, “I want my wife back.”
another time was when you guys grocery shopping.
you had most of the list crossed out and the only thing left was the frozen vegetables. easy, right?
so you, your husband, and son quickly made your way to the section—since megumi wanted to go to the park later to play with yuuji.
megumi stays in your arms, while toji goes to grab them. considering how unlucky this man is, the bag slips from his hand and falls flat on his face, and it freaking stays there.
to your darling son, comedy had never reached this peak, so he lets out a guttural laugh.
you want to join in on the laughter, but you noticed that toji is standing still, with the bag on his face.
so you walk to him, gently taking off the bag and teasing him, “you okay, champ? that made quite the noise.”
“don’t even start,” he groans and buries his face in your shoulder, ignoring the wheezing megumi. he then starts complaining, “they keep whining about how he is a quiet and shy kid, but he sure ain’t with me.”
“isn’t that a good thing? It’s important for him to feel free around his dad.”
he turns his head towards you, a frown plastered on his face, “no kid laughs whenever his dad gets ridiculed by life.”
“you told me that you laughed when your dad fell down a flight of stairs,” you deadpan.
“that’s because my dad is an ass; I am not,” he pauses, “for the most part.”
apparently, megumi senses his dad’s distress and starts slowly patting his head, albeit shyly. he lowers his gaze and mumbles, “so’y.”
toji’s eyes widen and he is frozen in place for a moment. your son takes note of that and starts staring him in the eye, waiting for his reaction.
your husband doesn’t take long for a small smile to break out as he lets a small sigh, “’s okay kid,” he hums and pets his head.
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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