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ihatealimore · 4 months

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Unexpected

(my first time writing this silly guy. fluff, gojo is insufferable. this is a one shot but i do have an idea for a part 2. word count: 1,782)

It had been a normal night so far, well, as normal as a night could be for the world's strongest sorcerer. Shoko made it a point to invite Gojo, Nanami, and Ijichi to the bar with her to catch up, though it was difficult to convince Nanami to join. While Gojo didn't drink himself, he was still more than happy to come with, satisfied with just having some snacks and melon soda.

"Loosen up, Ijichi!" Shoko prodded the stressed assistant, patting him on the back, "You should have another drink!"

Gojo lets out a deep chuckle, casually placing his hand on Ijicihi's shoulder, unconcerned about personal space as always, "I'm sure he's thinking that you've had enough alcohol for all of us."

"I was not thinking that!" Ijichi is quick to cut him off, afraid of Gojo potentially offending Shoko on his behalf, "Another drink would be fine."

Shoko wastes no time flagging down the bartender and ordering two more drinks while Nanami shakes his head at the sight. Nanami had also decided against drinking, sipping on a cold glass of sparkling water instead.

When Shoko, Ijichi, and Gojo usually went to the bar together, which wasn't often, this wasn't their normal spot, which is why they were caught off-guard by the announcement of karaoke night beginning.

"Karaoke?" Nanami quirked up an eyebrow as he looked over at the karaoke machine across the room and then back to Gojo, "Don't go getting any ideas."

"Awe, you wouldn't sing a love ballad duet with me? I'm hurt," Gojo said in mock hurt while clutching his hand to his chest melodramatically, "Maybe you'd change your mind if you had a drink-"

"No thank you."

"No fun..." Gojo mutters while sulking like a petulant child.

They continue chatting, Gojo spouting out some nonsense to Ijichi while he begrudgingly listens, which is quite normal for their dynamic. Their conversation is cut short by the sound of music reverberating through the room, a familiar voice echoing into the microphone.

Gojo recognizes it instantly, turning in his seat to face the karaoke machine, his sunglasses sliding further down onto his nose, "Now, this is unexpected," He remarks with a wide grin as the rest of the group's eyes follow his gaze.

"Is that (Y/N)?" Shoko wonders, nearly spitting out her drink in shock, "What a surprise! I never imagined seeing her at a bar, and singing karaoke no less!"

Nanami nods once in response, "It is strange but she's quite good."

From what they knew of (Y/N), (which admittedly wasn't much), you were more reserved and aloof. You had been helping out around Jujustu Tech in your free time at the request of Yaga due to the uptick in cursed spirits since the arrival of Sukuna's vessel. Gojo's interactions with you weren't exactly limited, though you didn't seem interested in talking with him if you didn't have to, seemingly more focused on your work as a sorcerer. This fact didn't stop him from pushing your buttons, just one of the many things he was incredibly good at.

This new side of you that was unfolding in front of the karaoke machine was certainly not unwelcome. Not to Gojo at least. He kept a close watch on you, making a note to himself to tease you relentlessly about this when he got the chance.

When the song ended, the crowd that had gathered around you cheered. He kept his gaze glued to you as you made your way across the bar, slipping past people to avoid bumping into them. You approached the other side of the bar, flagging the bartender and waiting for him to walk over.

Behind Gojo, Shoko had already gone back to drinking, talking animatedly with Ijichi while Nanami took a drink of his water. The white-haired man watched as a stranger sitting at the bar made conversation with (Y/N). It appeared harmless at first, though the sounds of people talking and music playing made it impossible to hear their conversation. (Y/N) said something to the man and the next second, he had reached out, discreetly clutching your wrist below to bar while you glared back at him.

Gojo had seen (Y/N) in action and he knew you were quite capable, although he usually told you otherwise, but for some reason, he felt the need to step in.

As he stood up and walked away, Shoko drunkenly called out to him, "Hey, where are you going?"

Without turning around or stopping, he waved her off, "Be right back."

Gojo crept up on you quietly from behind with his normal playful attitude, armed with a lie, "It looks like you're bothering my girlfriend."

At the sound of his voice, your life flashed before your eyes, nearly bumping into his chest as you swiftly turned around to look up at him, loudly exclaiming, "G-Gojo! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart," He replied with a smirk, his voice dripping with amusement as he wrapped an arm around your waist. His icy blue eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses but they held a dangerous glint that was directed at the man who had been bothering (Y/N).

The playful smile on Gojo's face didn't falter even for a second as he spoke in a low threatening tone, "Now, why don't you take your hands off of my girl before I decide to remove them for you?"

The stranger lets go of your arm, turning back around to face the bar as he mutters, "She didn't say she had a boyfriend."

His little comment prompts the approaching bartender to encroach on their conversation, "(Y/N), I didn't know you had a boyfriend!"

Gojo's eyes gleam at the realization that (Y/N) must come here pretty often for the bartender to know you by your first name. Also unexpected. He casually places his chin on the top of your head, his large frame practically engulfing you from behind, his hands resting on your hips with absolutely no regard for your personal space.

"Well, it's more of a recent development," He remarked with an easy smile, "(Y/N) and I have been seeing each other in secret for a while now," Gojo continued with his story smoothly, "And we thought it was best if we didn't flaunt our relationship around."

'Now even the bartender thinks we're together?' You think inwardly to yourself, 'Just great. But that guy is still sitting there so I guess I have no choice.'

Your lips curve upwards to form a forced smile, begrudgingly letting out a nervous laugh and saying, "Yeah, we're super in love."

"Oh, sweetheart," Gojo gushed dramatically as he glanced down at you with an expression full of faux love and admiration, "You're always so shy about our relationship!" His eyes fall back on the bartender as he remarks, "She really is cute when she's embarrassed."

While you roll your eyes at Gojo's overly played-up attitude, the bartender chuckled, "Congrats! Your tab is on me tonight, (Y/N)!"

After he walks away, you quickly pull yourself out of Gojo's embrace, turning around to face him, "What are you doing here? You don't drink so that must mean..." Your words die in your throat as you notice Shoko, Ijichi, and Nanami sitting at the bar, Shoko animatedly waving you over, "Everyone saw that and my karaoke set..."

You sweatdrop nervously as you watch your coworkers across the bar somberly, 'This is like a combination of all of my worst nightmares put together.'

"Well, I'd ask if you were inviting me with you for a private karaoke session next time," He teased as he watched your realization change to realization and then to shock. He snickers at the expression of horror painted on your face, wrapping his arm back around your waist, "It's not often we get to see our ice queen blush. Besides... You look cute when you sing."

"Ice queen?" You raise your eyebrow at him curiously, before muttering, "I hate you, but thanks for saving me."

He chuckled lightly, playfully bumping his shoulder into yours as he eased back from his intimate position, deciding it best not to push your boundaries too far, "Besides," He added cooly with a knowing smirk playing on his lips, "You should show your appreciation somehow. What about a karaoke duet? Just you and me?"

"Ugh, in your dreams," You scoff with crossed arms.

He shrugs, a playful glint in his hidden eyes as he teasingly tells you, "I guess you'll have to put up with my horrible singing for the rest of your life because I'm not giving up on our little karaoke duet."

"Maybe someday if you're lucky."

Your conversation was cut short by Shoko shouting at you from across the bar, gesturing for you to join them.

Gojo chuckled, walking ahead of you towards them, "Let's not keep our audience waiting,"

When you approach them, Shoko shoots up out of her seat, hooting loudly as she shoves a shot into your hand, "Well done! You really surprised us."

"Oh, erm, thank you," You peer down into the small, liquid-filled glass, mentally pondering which alcohol she had picked.

"We didn't take you for the karaoke type! You're always so quiet," Shoko exclaims as she pats you on the back just a little too hard, almost causing you to spill your drink.

You wave her off as you defend yourself, "I only come here with my friend. She loves karaoke."

Gojo looks around exaggeratedly before his gaze falls back on you, an impish smirk dancing on his lips, "I don't see anyone else here with you. You don't have to lie to us, (Y/N). We're your friends, we won't judge you!"

You glare daggers at his playful, yet antagonizing response. Why did he always have to act like this?

"She went home early. Family emergency."

Shoko cuts into your conversation, pointing at the full shot glass in your hand, "Well, don't hold back. Try that drink. You'll like it."

You hesitantly down the liquor in one swift gulp, sticking your tongue out in disgust afterward, "Oh god, that was strong."

Gojo can't resist the urge to laugh at your reaction, his thoughts surprising himself, 'God, she is too cute when she lets her guard down like this.'

He catches himself before he says anything out loud that might give away his thoughts, "Can't handle your alcohol?" He teases lightly, settling back into his seat and taking a sip of his melon soda.

"You're one to talk, Satoru!" Shoko argues back in your defense, "Only Ijichi drinks with me anymore."

Gojo chuckles, shrugging casually, "I drink with you. Just not alcohol."

As you watch them argue, you cover your mouth to keep yourself from bursting out laughing. You hadn't spent any time with your colleagues outside of work but being here with them now...

Shoko pats the seat next to her, interrupting your thoughts, "Come and sit with us! We can have another drink!"

Well, maybe it wasn't so bad.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #fluff #anime #writing

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jewish-vents · 26 days

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I can't with this anymore uhhhhhhggggg

"AITAH for creating a private doc to keep notes on what my racist teacher said"

I have this teacher who said a lot of shit (eg. "Ashkenazi people were Europeans forcefully converted by invading Jews", "the Torah mentions Jesus and Mohammed", "Judaism started in Ethiopia because it's the oldest religion and therefore must come from where all people do", "getting angry at Houthis for attacking Israel is like getting angry at a l*nched man for struggling on the noose", etc.). No one cared that she said these things besides a boy she kept deadnaming, a girl who she used as an example talking about slave r*pe, and a kid who she humiliated in front of the class a few times.

When I reported this shit to the dean he was concerned as fuck and 100000% on my side because he's really cool. And to report the stuff, I'd been using a private google doc to keep track of what she'd said. The principal though was overly optimistic and decided instead of talking to the teacher in private, she would hold a class discussion! Yaaaaaaayyyyyyy. I was less than pleased by this, and at the discussion most people took her side. I eventually decided to share the doc with the other three kids so I could get better firsthand accounts.

But then the doc started spreading.

One of the other kids shared it with this boy who she used to mock and throw under the bus, and he shared it with his friend. Who shared it with another friend. Things went like whisper-down-the-lane until someone, I don't know WHO, got a hold of it and shared it to the whole. Fucking. Class. Including the teacher. People started claiming the doc was Islamophobic and didn't elaborate why, and saying we were only "attacking" the teacher because she was Muslim. Or that we only reported this stuff to get drama and attention. The principal herself even said that this was happening because we have varying cultures, which is BS because I have plenty of Muslim friends who have never said ANY of the shit this lady has. That is waaaayyyy more Islamophobic of a statement and I felt offended on my friends' behalf with that one.

I feel bad for the teacher for seeing that doc, but then again, I myself am suffering because someone leaked all my personal opinions to the class. I'm a super conflict avoidant person because I have severe ADHD and OCD and mild autism (ASD1, to be specific), and I hate being involved. I want to sympathize for her. I really do. But when asked to apologize for what she said, she started defending herself and saying we were all closed-minded for not thinking what we previously thought was wrong. My mom wants to take me out of the class to do an independent study project so I can pass the required course without being in that classroom. Because nothing gets in the way of Jewish parents. Especially during Passover.

My classmates are saying she's a sweet lady and it was wrong of us to get upset at her, so are we the bad guys and/or am I overreacting to this scenario.

Anon I'm going to be very honest here. You are absolutely NTA here. And you're not overreacting at all. Your teacher is being very offensive, not to mention historically wrong.

And the doc? If she didn't want to have her offensive opinions called out in front of everyone, maybe she should stop being offensive.

I'm going to say, personally if she were my teacher the doc would be the least of her problems. She would not like me very much.

I hope you're safe tho, you and the other students she's hurt. You don't deserve to be treated like this

-🐺

#jewish vents #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism

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rahuratna · 8 days

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The transformation of Nanami Kento, Part 5

In which Nanami-pom takes full advantage of his current condition and makes a new friend ...

The car ride was a lively one, with Ino regaling the first year trio with tales of some of his more risky missions with Nanami.

"Oh yeah, I thought I was a goner that time. The spirit had me trapped under the rubble and there were these metal pipes caging me in. Felt like I was being crushed. And then, suddenly, I heard this noise and everything felt lighter! I looked up, and there he was."

Ino clenched his fist as he told them the story of his first meeting with Nanami. Yuuji leaned forward, enraptured, and even Megumi looked intrigued.

"He pulled the rubble out of the way like it weighed nothing and then he told me to rest because it was 5 pm and my work day was over."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah! I was hella confused, man. So I say, what do you mean? There's still curses to be killed. And he goes ... "

And here Ino deepened his voice, pulling at an imaginary tie and rolling up his sleeves, " ... My name is Nanami Kento. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm now working overtime, so please rest while I complete this task."

Nobara glanced over at Nanami-pom, who was now perched on Megumi's leg, a styrofoam cup of warm milk in the holder beside him and the financial section of the paper laid out on her lap while he read calmly.

Yes, that did sound exactly like him.

The more she thought about it, the more she realised just how well he had adapted. Even now, he was making full use of the advantages this form gave him. She looked down as a small paw touched her arm and sighed as she turned the page of the newspaper for him.

Oh yes. He was taking full advantage.

-----‐-------------------------‐‐-----‐----

The hotel Ijichi had booked them into allowed pets. Yuuji didn't know whether to personally thank Ijichi or feel offended on Nanami's behalf. As they waited in the lobby for Gojo to check them in, someone called over to them.

A group of ladies was seated at one of the lounges, all four of them dressed very fashionably. One lady in particular had a small poodle in a handbag, the perfectly groomed dog dolled up in what looked like a designer outfit. Nobara cringed slightly, but then realised how she looked with Nanami-pom seated on her shoulder with a full miniature business suit on.

"What a cute doggie! Why don't you bring him over here and introduce him to my Peanut?"

Ino and the students froze, eyes flicking around the lobby in desperation. This was the one type of interaction they had hoped to avoid at all costs. The lady was now coming over, bringing 'Peanut' with her.

"Oh, don't be shy. Peanut is very friendly. Here, Peanut, say hi. Oh! Just look at how adorable he is! What a beautiful suit! What's his name?"

"Na - "

Nobara kicked Yuuji's foot.

"Err, Nacho. His name is Nacho."

"Why, hello there Nacho."

She reached across and time seemed to stop as she scratched Nanami-pom behind the ear. Ino's eyes went very wide. Megumi was sweating bullets, as if expecting Nanami-pom to pull out his tiny sword and ruin the lobby.

Instead, the small nose raised into the air with a huff and Nanami-pom tilted his head to the side, as if graciously allowing the woman's attentions. She was rightfully charmed.

"Oh, what poise. Do you enter him for dog shows and competitions?"

"Yes!" Ino all but shouted. "Er, all the time. He's a champion. Very well trained."

"Wow! Do you hear that, little Nacho? Why don't you show Peanut here what you can do? She's so spoilt and refuses to listen to me."

With the air of a dog show veteran, Nanami-pom emitted another put-upon sigh and hopped down from Nobara's shoulder. He looked up at the poodle expectantly. Peanut was considering him with trepidation, as if knowing that something was not quite right with the golden-furred canine that was staring at her with the commanding air of a human. A very intimidating human. She whined slightly before coming slowly over to him.

Nanami-pom raised his paw. Peanut rolled over. He got onto on his hind legs and moved the same paw in an up-and-down motion. Peanut leapt and bobbed on the spot. Nanami-pom placed one paw behind his back. Peanut got into a begging posture. The tiny, commanding paw then shot out horizontally. Peanut got on her back and played dead.

The woman watched in astonishment as Nanami-pom took Peanut through a series of motions, culminating with an elegant handshake. He dusted off his suit, as if concluding business, and jumped lightly back into Nobara's arms. A heavy silence lay over the group. The woman eyed Nanami-pom with the kind of reverence normally reserved for a pop idol or president.

"Wh - what breed is he? I - I've never seen such a - "

"He's a Golden ... Ratio Retriever," Megumi blurted out. "He's from Denmark. Very rare. Even among dogs of this breed, there's a three in seven chance of one as intelligent as ... Nacho being born."

At that moment, Gojo appeared and saved them from further fabrication. Nobara was about to tear Megumi a new one for that breed name. For a boy who exuded a cool and collected aura, he really was an awful liar.

The woman practically begged Gojo to set up a play date with Peanut, which he agreed to with a horrifically cheerful grin. Nanami-pom's eyes narrowed dangerously and the students all breathed heavy sighs of relief when they finally reached their rooms.

---‐‐----‐-------‐---------------------‐--

Nobara was situated in an adjoining room to the two boys. None of them felt like turning in immediately, so she plonked herself on Yuuji's bed and opened up the amusement park blueprints that Gojo had provided them with, spreading them out on the covers. The trio took some time to re-familiarize themselves with the layout, before realizing that Nanami-pom was no longer with them.

Looking around they spotted him sitting expectantly next to the small case Ijichi had provided for him. Puzzled, Yuuji went over to the case and opened it.

"Something you need in here, Nanamin?"

Inside, he found a bag with a tiny toothbrush, dog-friendly toothpaste, a comb, a few small vials, a puppy pad and a bottle. Megumi came up behind him and grabbed the supplies.

"I'll handle this. Neither of you know how to look after a ... well. Nanami, come here."

"Well, show us, then," Yuuji huffed.

Megumi beckoned to Nanami-pom, who hopped into his lap and settled comfortably. First, a small amount of toothpaste was applied to the brush and Megumi did a very thorough job of cleaning the tiny, sharp teeth. Next came the brushing. Nanami-pom wore a singularly satisfied look as Megumi brushed and parted the golden hair neatly along his back and head. Some of the conditioning supplements from the vials were then applied to the combed hair. Finally, Megumi placed the puppy pad in the bathroom, with the bottle propped upright in the centre of it.

"What's that for?"

"He can't use the toilet, genius. The bottle acts kind of like a pillar he can do his business against."

Nanami-pom took a moment to place his nose against Megumi's hand in a gesture of thanks before hopping down and entering the bathroom, nudging the door closed with his hind leg. Nobara flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Do you guys think we'll be able to change him back soon? What if the curse user ... I mean, what if Nanami's ... "

"He won't be like this for much longer," Yuuji said firmly, "We'll find that guy and make him change him back. I'll do whatever it takes."

Megumi was examining the blueprints again.

"This place is pretty big. I think we'll have to split up and form teams to enter the area. Gojo will be with us this time. It's not like the other tests where he wanted to see what we're capable of. He wants to turn Nanami back as soon as possible too."

"I mean, won't things be over really quickly then? The rest of us won't need to do much. The curse user isn't that powerful, right?"

Megumi sighed.

"And look what happened to Nanami. Sure, he was trying to save Yuuji, but even if the curse user's power isn't deadly, it's still debilitating and long lasting. Yuuji said that the beams reflect and bounce unpredictably off surfaces, meaning we can't tell from which direction attacks may come. Even if Gojo's with us, we can't afford to slack off. We're not trying to take him out, it's more of a negotiation to make him turn Nanami back. That's more tricky to pull off."

Nobara hummed thoughtfully.

"You know, this sounds more like a mission where some stealth may be necessary."

"Stealth?" Yuuji laughed. "No offense, but none of us are really cut out for that."

"You think so?" Nobara grinned. "I can think of one person who can be super sneaky right now."

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cringe--is--dead · 4 months

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formally asking for part two of misguided hearts, please!! it was an amazing read!! I'm so excited to see what will happen next :) your writing is absolutely phenomenal ❤️

A/N: We are gonna pretend it hasn't been for forever since I've not only posted on here, but done anything with DBZ. Anyways! Here we are!

The Blind (No Longer) Leading the Blind (Part Two)

Misguided Hearts (Part One)

"I still think you should let Gohan and I spar."

Trunks was on the same topic, pouting, though he'd argue he wasn't, as you fussed over your hair and your makeup, finally settling on an outfit with your mom's help. You sighed, turning to where he was seated on your bed.

"And I told you-- no fighting my friends."

"He made you upset though," He was looking at you as if you were the one who made no sense in this situation.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head fondly at him, "Gohan didn't upset me."

Though he didn't believe you, "I could stop being friends with Goten?"

You moved to sit across from him, watching as he held one of your pillows to his chest, glaring at your comforter.

"Trunks I appreciate you being ready to fight on behalf of me, but you don't need to. And you especially don't need to drop your best friend for me." You ruffled his hair, and laughed at the offended noise he made, trying to bat you away.

"Whatever. If you come home crying I'm gonna tell dad."

You narrowed your eyes at him, all affection leaving, "You wouldn't."

You hadn't even told your dad you were going on a double date. The man would more than likely have a conniption. The first time a guy showed interest in you he declared no mortal good enough for his daughter and declared anyone after your heart and your hand needed to beat him in a match. You had been thirteen. It was embarrassing. Yet part of you had reveled in his protectiveness of you.

"I would."

You heard your mom shouting your name downstairs, and the jitters that had mellowed out hit you full force. You stood, motioning for Trunks to do the same.

"No hanging out in my room when I'm not here, brat."

He stuck his tongue out at you, "I don't wanna be in your dumb room anyways."

He dodged the smack you sent towards his arm and left you alone. Taking a deep breath, you forced a light expression on your face. Delaying the inevitable wouldn't do you any good.

"You at least look lovely honey," Your mom comforted you, and you smiled at her.

"Thanks, mom."

You made your way to the door, grabbing a thin jacket in case it got nippy, and opened the door, unprepared to see Gohan, Videl, and Erasa at your front door.

You blinked for a moment, staring at the three of them-- Erasa was your date for the double date?

Interesting.

"Sorry," Gohan rushed to apologize, "Erasa insisted we all went together."

The blonde beamed at you from where she stood, and though you were dreading this interaction, you could never dread hanging out with Erasa, and her happiness was always contagious.

"It's alright," You smiled back, shutting the door behind you, "Let's just hurry before dad finishes with his morning training."

Gohan shuddered at that, and the four of you moved to head off. Erasa was practically bouncing as she walked, far more excited than she had been earlier this week. Videl was with her, moving every so often to keep her from drifting into the street or getting distracted by something near by. You couldn't help but smile at the pair, Videl was always so soft with her friends.

"So," Sucks that it meant Gohan had to be stuck walking with you instead of his date, but hey, you'd soak up the time, "My mom says hi. And that you need to come over for dinner soon."

"Well, I'll never pass up an opportunity for Chi-Chi's cooking," He smiled at that, a bright look on his face as you continued, "We still have that project due soon so I could come over some time this week?"

"Yeah! That'd be great. Sorry in advance for how mom will be." He paused, "And dad, come to think of it."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, "I've known your parents since I was a kid, Gohan. I know how they'll be."

"Yeah, but this will be different. Well not really, for us I suppose. But for them. Mainly mom." He sighed, as if already exhausted by the dinner that hadn't even happened yet, "And dad's just excited that that gives him more excuses to hang out with Vegeta."

"That it-- what?"

He laughed as if your confusion was not only expected but entertaining to him, "I know. I told him that just because we're seeing each other it doesn't mean he gets to go over and bug your dad every day. Not to mention I think it'll just be another reason for Vegeta to not like him. Or me."

Your mind was reeling, and you felt yourself slowing down your walk, trying to process and make sense of what he was talking about. Gohan seemed almost too lost in his mind to notice at first.

"I wonder if there's some Saiyan tradition he's going to make me partake in. Or-- hey, what's up?"

He turned, and you realized you had gone from slowing down to not walking entirely.

"Gohan-- what are you talking about?"

It was his turn to look confused. "Well I mean, dad doesn't know a whole lot about Saiyan traditions so he never really did anything special with mom. I figured Vegeta would probably remember more so if there was one he'd force me to do it. It probably has something to do with sparring, knowing him."

"Why would-- why would you need to know about Saiyan traditions regarding-- what does my dad have to do with this?"

By now both Videl and Erasa had turned to look at you two, confused as to why their trip was pausing. Gohan looked from you, to the pair of them. The cafe was within sight, so he told the pair to go ahead, and you two would catch up in a moment.

Head tilted, he looked at you curiously, "Because if I'm taking you out then he's either going to have my head or make me partake in some... Saiyan courting ritual I know nothing about." He grinned slightly, joking as he said, "I'd like to get a head start on it so I don't lose against him."

"Why would you need to fight my dad in a Saiyan courting ritual to date Videl?"

You were met with silence as Gohan stared at you, mouth parted slightly.

"What are you talking about?" Before you could respond he stepped closer to you, "I'm-- I'm not interested in Videl? I asked you on this date?"

"No you didn't!"

"I did!" The pair of you seemed to be growing almost frustrated with each other.

"When?"

"When we were working on the project in your room-- I told you about the double date and you said you wanted to come!"

"Yeah, you said you and Videl wanted me to come on a double date. Meaning you and Videl were one couple, and I was--"

"Oh my God," He muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes under his glasses before pausing, looking at you with the biggest puppy eyes you had ever seen on him, "I messed this up."

He stepped forward, gently taking one of your hands into his, and you found yourself unsure of what to do or say.

"I... was asking you out. I wanted to come here with you. Videl had managed to get herself to ask Erasa out, but was too nervous for a one-on-one first date. So the agreement was I had to man up and ask you out."

"You... didn't do that well."

He laughed quietly, "I'm realizing this now." He paused, "Does this mean that... your answers changes now that you--"

"No!" Your voice was louder than you intended it to be, "No, no I... God, Gohan I was practically heart broken that I thought you were into Videl. I love her, don't get me wrong but I've had the biggest crush on you since we were kids."

His grin grew, becoming soft and almost dopey looking, "That's funny. I've had a crush on you since we were kids, too."

You could have face palmed then and there, could have cried or screamed with the amount of emotions you were feeling. Apparently, despite taking after your genius of a mother, you were an idiot.

"Oh," You blinked, "That's why Trunks was mad at you."

"What?"

"I was..." Moping. "Upset cause I thought you liked Videl. He heard me complaining to mom and wanted to fight you."

"Oh," He looked contemplative, "That... checks out. I'm just glad he hadn't told your dad yet."

You giggled, "He said if I came home crying he would."

"Well," He took your hand in his more securely, tugging you gently towards the entrance of the cafe, "I suppose I just have to make this an excellent first date."

#dragon ball x reader #adopted reader #bulma and reader #dragon ball z x reader #gohan x reader #briefs!reader #gohan x briefs reader #gohan x briefs!reader #gohan x vegeta's daughter

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littlest-nightingale · 4 months

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(quick warning for a bit of swearing at the end)

Crowley doesn't cry very often, so Aziraphale is reasonably concerned when the demon stormed into the bookshop on the verge of tears.

"Dear girl, what's wrong?" the angel asks, bringing them in for a hug.

"Not girl! Not girl 'ziraphale." Crowley objects, and Aziraphale can instantly tell that they're small from that sentence alone. "I'm sorry little one. I just saw your dress and thought it might be a good nickname to try."

"'s not." Crowley huffs, pouting. "People don't get it."

"Don't get what, love?"

"That I'm a boy. Wear dress but 'm boy."

"That you are, dear boy." Of course, Crowley's gender wasn't just "boy", no, it was more complex than that. they weren't a man, not at all, but they love masculine terminology like boy and guy and other such things. They have, in the past, experimented with more feminine nicknames and terminology- and he found that it felt icky, especially when they were small. They/them, boy, but they love dresses and skirts. It made perfect sense to Aziraphale, that a boy could wear a skirt and still be just as much of a boy as any other, but most humans seemed to struggle with the concept.

"Person kept callin' me Ma'am an' she an' told her stop but she didn't.'' They complain. "Oh, well that wasn't very nice of her, was it?" Aziraphale responds softly. "Not nice at all."

"Said I can't be boy, not really, cause m' wearing dress." There are still tears threatening to fall from their eyes, and they're clearly very upset about this.

"Well," Aziraphale starts, sounding a bit offended on their behalf, "pardon my potty mouth, but I think that person is stupid." Crowley looks surprised. Aziraphale never says things like that! He always tells Crowley that calling people stupid is rude.

Aziraphale, pleased with Crowley's reaction, continues. "You want to know why I think that person is stupid? Because, dear boy, you are the most handsome boy in the world. And you are very, very fashionable in your dress. I think maybe she was a bit jealous, don't you? Maybe she thinks that boys can't look good in dresses, and when she saw you, she just couldn't accept it." Crowley looks at him, feeling a bit better but clearly in need of a bit more reassurance. "I'm very proud of you too, you know? I know that dresses made you dysphoric for a while, and I'm so proud of you for being able to wear them again." He smiles. "Even though 's not a boy thing to wear?" Crowley asks. "Of course." Aziraphale responds. "You're no less of a boy for wearing skirts and dresses. You're allowed to wear whatever you want. What is it that you said the other day? All clothes are gender neutral if you aren't a coward?"

Crowley giggles. "All clothes are gender neutral if you aren't a fuckin' pussy."

Aziraphale rolls his eyes. "Now, you know not to use that language when you're little." he scolds, looking very serious, but then he smiles. "But yes. All clothes are gender neutral if you aren't a fucking pussy."

#gender dysphoria is KILLING ME #yes i gave Crowley my gender for this fic. i let them borrow it #sfw age regression #agere #good omens agere #fandom agere

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liquor-liquor-lips · 1 year

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Characters' train of thought explained through mycro expressions

Well, I say explained, but just hear me out.

It occurred to me just now that I was making one of my silly posts, that they way Sherlock and John react to Sally Donovan's words might reflect something that I hadn't previously considered.

Up until this point in ASiP, John has just met Mrs. Hudson, with whom Sherlock seems to be so close, and her first thought was not only that he and Sherlock were romantically involved, but that they were already serious enough to be moving in together.

Then, there's Sally Donovan. She calls Sherlock a freak, so from here on, it must be obvious to John they're not in good terms.

Sherlock then remarks Sally didn't make it home the previous night, and Sally knows he's right; furthermore, she knows why she didn't make it home; she was with Anderson, with whom she is actually romantically involved, but presumably, she doesn't want to give Sherlock, the man she constantly ridicules, the power to ridicule her back over Anderson, so she tries to prevent Sherlock from going any further with his deductions by deflecting to John and the reason he's there.

Sherlock proceeds to introduce John by his professional title, "Colleague of mine, Doctor Watson", because he's eager to show off his association with him, something I have previously theorised about in this post, but Sally doesn't care about that, now does she?

"Colleague? How do you get a colleague?" she asks then, and the question is obviously meant to imply Sherlock is so utterly unbearable that no one would want to be around him, but it serves another purpose too. By teasing Sherlock about his involvement with John, she can easily deflect from her own involvement with Anderson.

Now, let's see the boys' reactions to the question again, shall we?

Sherlock turns his head and rolls his eyes because he's obviously offended, but he's already used to it; after all, Sally is hardly the first person to treat Sherlock this way, but John, John frowns as if offended on Sherlock's behalf because at this point, neither Sally nor Mycroft have warned him about Sherlock being... well, Sherlock yet. It is then that Sally adds...

Sherlock lowers his head, once he finally gets what Sally is implying. It is true that Sherlock doesn't know that she spent the night with Anderson yet, but just the fact that she was out all night might suggest she spent it with someone, and now she might be asking if John followed Sherlock home for the exact same reason.

Thing is, at this point, they have just met each other, and they seem to be getting along. This doesn't happen to Sherlock that often, and he must know John is special, which is the reason he invited him along in the first place. Why would a man who is said to have no friends and who once said "Alone protects me" would immediately ask John to live with him and work with him within 24 hours of having met him if he wasn't the exception to the rule? I can only imagine how badly Sherlock wants to be the exception to the rule for John as well, and how scared he might be of driving him away; after all, he's learned from everyone else around him that he's a freak, that he puts everyone off, that he's meant to be alone, and he doesn't want John to see him in that light because he wants him to stay.

Sally's comments have effectively made John question why he's even there. He rolls his eyes and prompty suggests it might be better if he waits outside, but that's not all there is to it.

Why would John suggest that? He could have just ignored Sally's question, but instead, he reacts just like he did when Mrs. Hudson ("Of course we'll be needing two"), and Angelo ("I'm not his date") implied he and Sherlock were a couple, by retreating. Sherlock can't be happy about this, but he reacts like he did before too, by ignoring the situation and bringing John along anyway. He can deal with Donovan later.

The opportunity presents itself when they come across Anderson, and it takes Sherlock less than a second to deduce by his deodorant that he is the person with whom Sally spent the night, which is then confirmed by their reactions.

So this little remark...

This was payback. If Sally really thought she could make him look inadequate in front of John, well then she'd better take a look at her own choice of companionship first. Inappropriate and immature, sure, but so was Sally Donovan's behavior from the start.

So we're finally in, and who do we have next? Ah, Lestrade! Kind, and unassuming Detective Inspector Lestrade, who mirrors Sally's question upon seeing John, but Sherlock is having none of this.

Translation: "I'm not doing this again. This is nobody's business but our own. He's here, he's with me, and I intend to keep him, so would everyone please back off?"

I may be wrong, but I think that ultimately, this might be at least part of the reason Sherlock doesn't respond when they are interrogated about the nature of their relationship. Why bother when it's obvious to him people don't know the first thing about them? This is them, this is the two of them against the rest of the world, this is private, this is their life together, this is what they are to each other and Sherlock will have no one question it or ridicule it, let alone trying to understand it.

Almost 12 years later, and here I am, trying to question it, and trying to understand it, but that's neither here, nor there.

#i've written my second meta #bbc sherlock #sherlock meta #ok but hear me out #sherlock x john #sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #asip #a study in pink

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 5 months

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"You just blasphemed again." "Okay. If you want to take it personal, that's also up to you."

"Okay" is sufficient to silence anyone who would claim to tell you what you can or can't say.

"I'm offended." "Okay." "I feel unsafe." "Okay." "Your words are causing harm." "Okay."

Here's the thing with people like Tommy Dorfman, the person with the camera: he wants to be "misgendered." It's why he has his camera at the ready. If he's not an oppressed martyr, he's just a man in a dress.

Someone with actual clinically significant dysphoria may well be distressed by being referred to in a manner opposite to how they've worked to present. But that doesn't look like a belligerent narcissist filming for likes and subs. Just like a man waving his wang around in the women's room, and a woman flashing her hoo-hah in the men's room aren't transsexual individuals, because that would be too dysphoric. They're fetishists and/or predators.

We used to go by something called "reasonable accommodations." But when we gave an inch, a bunch of narcissistic sociopaths saw an opportunity to jump in and take a mile, on behalf of the people we were trying to help. The worst enemy of the legitimately dysphoric transsexual is the genderist activist.

#coercive control #narcissism #compelled speech #misgendering #pronoun culture #pronouns #gender ideology #queer theory #religion is a mental illness

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k-odyssey · 6 months

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Girl, your orabeoni is a terrible exemple, don't count on the fact that others will be as blind/unobservant as he was!! Honestly I'm kind of offended on her behalf, his own sister!! How come he recognized the youngest of the unmarried sisters dressed as a man?? But not his own sister?? And they're close too.

#the matchmakers #kdrama thoughts

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recurring-polynya · 11 months

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Bleach Returns Day 7: Always by your side / Betrayal / History

Got the trifecta on this one, baby, but it wasn't that hard, because Kubo loves packaging these three things together (if you allow interpreting 'history' as 'long personal history together', which I do).

Anyway, I'm never not thinking about Ichigo and Renji's first fight, and for a long time, I've been thinking about what happened immediately after Byakuya, Rukia and Renji returned to Soul Society, specifically that Rukia had to be extracted from her gigai by Squad 2 and then thrown in a holding cell and I am sure B didn't stick around for all that, which makes this the first private conversation Rukia and Renji got to have in 40 years.

| ao3 | ff.net | 2225 words, rated Teen for cussin' (tbf they both had a lot to cuss about)

How many Onmitsukidou operatives does it take to get one soul out of a gigai? Renji wonders idly to himself. There is no punchline. All of this is one big joke, but certainly not the funny kind.

“This would probably go a lot faster if we could take her down to one of our medical units,” the Squad 2 spook who appears to be in charge of this shitshow says, sidling up to Renji. “Sir.”

“Sure,” says Renji. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t have clearance to accompany us, sir, but--”

“Then, no.”

“I could go fetch our Vice-Captain, if that would reassure you.”

“Go ahead,” Renji replies, calling the man’s bluff. Dealing with that blowhard Omaeda would really put the icing on the clusterfuck this entire night has been. On the other hand, it’s 2am, and even though the only part of this poor ninja’s face he can see is the eyes, he can tell how badly this guy does not want to have to go wake up his awful boss.

Renji makes a mental note to make sure all his subordinates know that he’d much rather be woken up at 2am than to catch wind later that they tried to start shit with some other squad’s vice-captain.

Fortunately, Rukia, whose timing is impeccable as always, manages to finally part ways with her horrible bootleg gigai, drawing in a huge breath of air with a loud, raspy gasp.

“How much soul fixer did you take?” one of the other spooks asks her pointedly. “That stuff is terrible for you.”

Rukia tells the guy to blow it out his ass, and Renji’s heart skips three beats. For the last few hours, he’s been studying her, watching, listening, trying to figure out if there’s anything of his Rukia left in her at all. The only thing that’s seemed familiar was that charade she put on at the end, acting all high and mighty and offended on the behalf of her noble brother. It’s been 40 years, but there was something in her posture, the resonance of her voice…classic tells of Rukia doing a bit. Maybe she wasn’t doing a bit, though. Maybe that’s just Rukia-as-Kuchiki. Renji’s spent more than a few sleepless nights wondering how in five realms Rukia would manage to turn herself into a noble. Faking it ‘til she made it was usually at the top of the list, but maybe her Kuchiki self would always have a ring of falsehood to it.

Captain Kuchiki often seems like he is doing a bit, too.

“I want a receipt for that gigai,” Renji announces.

The spook does a full-body cringe, and slouches off, muttering unflattering things about the Sixth Division. Renji doesn’t care. Hard-ass, rule-abiding vice-captain of Kuchiki squad is not a bit. It’s who he is now.

When the receipt comes, it’s actually a petty cash voucher with “GIGAI” written in the “Received” column, but it’s got a mostly legible signature and Squad 2 letterhead, and also it’s two in the fucking a.m., so Renji takes it.

“You need to borrow a pair of shackles?” the spook asks dryly. “Can put that on the receipt, too.”

Renji’s blood stops flowing, just for a second. Rukia is watching him. He hadn’t thought about this. She’s come along willingly up until now. He wishes he could trust her to continue in the same vein, but he can’t, both because she’s not trustworthy, and because the Vice-Captain of the Sixth isn’t a guy who lets his guard down on account of old friendships.

“No,” he says, and Rukia’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly. He jerks his chin at her. “Hands behind your back, if you don’t mind. Don’t need any dislocated shoulders.”

Her face becomes passive again as he casts bakudou number one on her. It’s easy enough that he doesn’t embarrass himself, although with the way this night has been going, it would certainly be no surprise.

A few minutes later, they step out into the night air, free of Squad 2 at last. There’s a breeze, which downgrades the humidity from “insufferable” to “unpleasant”, even just briefly. A thunderstorm was just finding its legs when they left the World of the Living. Renji wishes they would get one here, too, but it doesn’t seem to be in the cards.

The streets are empty at this time of night. Rukia looks straight ahead as they walk. There’s a hollowness to her eyes.

Renji’s not an idiot. Well. He is, but he’s not a fucking idiot. Rukia is not a person who shares her heart easily, but it’s because when she does, she carves off an entire piece and dumps it in your hands, bloody and tender. Why the Hell she would do so for some human kid is absolutely beyond Renji. They only live for about five days anyway and everything they do is absolutely nonsensical. Maybe some of it was that weird gigai. Probably messed with her head. She’ll likely be fine in a few hours. Well. Maybe not fine, but at least worried about the things she ought to be worrying about.

Renji thinks about all the things he had planned out to say to her. He had spent hours rolling them around in his head all through his last weeks at Squad Eleven. Even wrote some down on paper in little bulleted lists, like the study guides Momo used to make when they were at the Academy. He can’t say any of them now. He can’t say them because Rukia boned a routine mission so thoroughly that at least three other squads had gotten pulled into it. He can’t say them because, in his idiotic confidence that there had to be some logical explanation for all of it, that he and Captain Kuchiki would be able to swoop in and make things right for her, that he made both an asshole of himself and lost a fight pathetically, to a child. Finally, he can’t say them to her, because he is the Vice-Captain of the Sixth. And she is his prisoner.

Renji has never been much of an apologizer, and Rukia isn’t a person who requires apologies, but the absence of one hangs heavy between them. He can’t apologize for following orders though. Vice-Captain of the Sixth strikes again.

“You really didn’t need to stand there and glower at them for every second of that,” Rukia says, in a way that sounds like she’s talking to herself, but he knows is directed at him. “You’ve gotta feel kinda disgusting.”

Renji bristles. “What I feel is none of your business. Someone’s in my custody, and you think I’m gonna leave them alone with a bunch of slimy Squad 2 spooks for a single second?”

Rukia stares at him for a long moment. “I just meant that you could have gone to the washroom. You do know your face is covered in blood, right?”

Renji’s hand goes reflexively to his forehead. It feels mostly dried, at least. “Oh,” he says stupidly.

“Your chin, too.”

Renji grinds his teeth.

“It’s fine,” Rukia says lightly. “Impressive, I suppose, to someone who didn’t see how it happened. You certainly intimidated the shit out of those Squad Two morons.” She cocks an eyebrow at him slyly. “You gotta handkerchief on you? Let me out of this bind, I’ll wipe off your face for you.”

He tips his head to the side and regards her out of the corner of his eye. “Not a chance.”

“I had to give it a try,” she sniffs. “It’s not as if you wouldn’t catch me in two seconds if I tried to give you the slip.”

“Give it up,” he warns. “It won’t work on me. I know you too well.”

Rukia falls quiet and he regrets saying it. Forty years of working to raise himself to her level, and it feels like all he can do is remind her where they both came from.

“Renji,” she says, after a long pause, “about that.”

“Forget it,” he says.

She ignores him, just as she always has. “It wasn’t fair of me,” she says, “to grab your arm like that.”

He wishes he had to wrack his brain to figure out what she’s talking about, but the memory of tiny fingers wrapping over his knuckles, her knee jabbing the soft space between his shoulder blades, the sudden familiar weight of her hanging off his back.

Even without her powers, Rukia is still a soldier. She knows pressure points. She had access to his throat, his windpipe, his carotid. But instead, she grabbed his sword hand. A request. A plea, maybe. Don’t do it. Let him live.

She weighs nothing. Her gigai had the strength of a human girl. The only thing staying his arm was the unspeakable weight of their history together.

Time freezes. In Renji’s mind, the human kid’s fingers close on the hilt of his stupid, oversized sword.

Renji sparred against Rukia at the Academy, and they used to scrap as kids, sometimes more seriously than others, but Rukia has always had his back when it really mattered.

If Kurosaki had the least idea of what he was actually doing, he probably could have run Renji straight through, and Renji would have just stood there, his mouth hanging open like an idiot. He keeps telling himself that this was not Rukia’s intent. Maybe she thought better of his battle reflexes. He sure wishes he did. She only expected the kid to run. She probably has no idea how much hold she still has on his heart. Or, y’know. Maybe not. To all of it.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Rukia grumbles. “I don’t regret it. I would do it again. I’m just saying that it wasn’t fair of me to ask that much of you.”

“If you think I got my ass kicked as some sort of favor to you, you’re giving yourself a little too much credit,” Renji grunts. “That incompetence was 100% genuine and unfaked, but thanks for the show of confidence.”

“Oh, no, that was obvious.” She sighs and falls quiet.

He wonders what she thinks he would have done, if it had turned out he had any say in the matter. Does she think he would have spared Ichigo? Is this her inscrutable, Rukia version of a thank you? Or does she think he would have killed the kid, that leniency was too big an ask, and she doesn’t particularly hold it against him? Maybe she’s asking him to explain himself. What difference would it make? From her point of view, he has no particular incentive to tell her the truth, only whatever he wants her to hear.

“You…you can’t have worked for my brother for very long,” she finally says in a way that implies she’s not entirely sure of this fact. “You definitely didn’t work for him before I left, did you?”

“I just started,” Renji assures her.

“Well, then, maybe you don’t know him very well, but--”

“I know him well enough.”

Rukia’s mouth hangs open for a second. She licks her lips. “I see.” And then she smiles. Just a small one. Maybe a little bit rueful.

“What?” Renji demands peevishly. “What, exactly, do you see?”

“Just that you know, then. That he hates leaving things half done. That for as cool as he sounded, it probably caused him physical pain to leave Ichigo there without finishing him off.”

“You asked him to,” Renji shrugs. “It was a favor.” Her hand on his sword arm. A dramatic performance of a dutiful, penitent sister. Rukia always knows just the right way to ask for what she wants.

“You probably know that he’s not too generous with favors, either,” Rukia points out. “You could have reminded him that leaving humans with illicitly gained shinigami powers to expire of their wounds isn’t proper procedure.”

Renji doesn’t reply.

“You didn’t though.”

That’s right. He didn’t. It didn’t even occur to him. It should have. But Vice-Captain of the Sixth is still something he has to think about doing, and slipping into the support role on one of Rukia’s grifts has always been as natural as breathing.

Renji can see Squad Six’s gate up ahead. He is so tired. He just wants this night to be over.

“I woulda gone along with just about anything if it would get you to stop digging yourself a grave so deep you were about to break through to Hell, okay?”

She hums in agreement and makes a small nod.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, you know that, Rukia?”

She gives a soft snort. “Yeah,” she says, “I know.”

#bleach returns 2023 #renruki #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #my writing

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indigowallbreaker · 5 months

Note

If the Bleagles prompts are still open, can you please do angst 49, I don't think I can forgive you, between Edelgard and Ashe

There were several directions that came to mind with this one. Here's what I settled on! Thank you for waiting.

[prompt rules]

[more Beagles stories]

49. "I don't think I can forgive you."

A scowl tugged down Ashe's face as he made his way to the second floor dormitory. A student had asked him to deliver a letter, which Ashe now clutched too tight in one hand, palm purposefully obstructing the recipient's name. He couldn't bear to see "Edelgard" written in such loopy, love-sick handwriting.

If the student had told Ashe from the outset who the "sensitive letter" was meant for, he would have politely refused. This was not the kind of conversation where Ashe wanted to act as the go-between. Not only was Edelgard the Imperial Princess-- she was also Ashe's house leader. She probably didn't want him, a random commoner from the Kingdom, involved in her love life.

Ashe wanted to pretend that was the reason-- the division between their stations making this inappropriate. But as he reached Edelgard's door, Ashe had to admit to being offended on her behalf. She shouldn't have to waste her time with someone so weak willed as to hide behind Ashe. A man who couldn't even deliver his own letter had no chance with a princess.

The scowl morphed into a sneer. Edelgard deserved better than this random student. Ashe had watched her since he joined the Black Eagles-- saw how hard she worked to improve herself in studies and fighting, the rare moments she let her expression break into a smile. The letter crumpled in Ashe's hand. This guy couldn't know the first thing about her or he wouldn't have tried this stunt.

Seizing the letter in both hands, Ashe glared down at it, seriously considering tearing it in half.

"If you are stealing my mail, I don't think I can forgive you."

A squeak left Ashe's chest and he stumbled back. Edelgard's dorm door was open, and Edelgard herself was standing in its place, one hand on her hip. She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not stealing!" Ashe defended quickly. "I'm... I'm supposed to give this to you." He held out the letter.

Still looking perplexed, Edelgard took it. Ashe winced at the condition it was in-- he hadn't realized how twisted and creased the paper had become.

He opened his mouth to apologize-- but stopped when Edelgard rolled her eyes and tossed the letter over her shoulder. It disappeared into her room, and she stepped into the hallway and shut the door before Ashe could see where it landed.

"Honestly, a letter a week is getting to be too much," she said, more to herself than Ashe.

Ashe gaped. "You get one of those a week?!"

"Not from the same person. But they might as well be-- those kinds of letters tend to blend together after a while."

"I'm Sorry."

Edelgard shook her head. "I'm sorry you were dragged into this one. Please, put it out of your mind."

Ashe nodded, watching her walk down the hallway. All those letters. All those cowards. Was it that difficult to just speak?

"Princess Edelgard?"

She turned back to him.

Do you want to go into town with me tomorrow? The words didn't leave Ashe's throat. Pink tinged his cheeks. Not very knightly behavior. "Um, I won't bug you with those kinds of letters anymore," he said at last.

Edelgard smiled. Ashe's heart skipped a beat, the heat in his face increasing. "Thank you, Ashe. I will see you later."

Then she was gone. Ashe let out a long breath.

Yes, apparently, it was that difficult.

#ultragf #edelgard von hresvelg #ashe ubert #ashe duran #fire emblem three houses #edelashe #ashegard #beagles run #go for it meme running through my head #i worry that ashe is a tiny but ooc here but he does have a strong sense of right and wrong #maybe im overthinking it

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pachu09 · 1 year

Text

MadaTobi

Childhood Crush

Hashirama chuckles as he stares at a painting he's holding.

Madara and Izuna curiously stares at their Hokage, who carefully laid down the painting on his desk.

Madara, in an attempt to find out what made his bestfriend amused, ask. " What's so funny, Hashirama?. "

Hashirama beams and was about to explain himself but his office door opening and Tobirama stepping inside made him smirk gleefully. Which made the Uchiha Brothers straighten in their seat.

Tobirama, upon seeing his Brother’s smug look; freezes and he eyed the man warily.

Hashirama beams even brighter, it nearly blind the other three Men. " Tobi!. I'm so glad you're here!. I found one of the oldest picture you've been frantically trying to find ( because you thought you lost it ) since we moved into Konoha!. "

Tobirama’s brows furrowed. " Is it the painting of Okaasan? "

Hashirama grins teasingly. " No. "

Izuna, who felt impatient and wanting to know what the painting is, blurts out. " Oh, for Sage sake. What is it, tree brain?! "

Hashirama smiles more widely. " I found the portrait of Tobirama’s first crush! His name is Takeshi and I remember little Tobi he'll – "

Tobirama who realizes what his Brother is up to, pales dramatically and dive for Hashirama to cover his mouth.

Hashirama laughs delightedly as he tried to avoid his Brother’s frantic hands. " Takeshi is a step son of one of my distant Uncle and little Tobi here, back then tried to convince Takeshi that he'll be Takeshi's perfect trophy Wife so he'll need to wait for him to grow up; so that they can get married!. "

Tobirama who blushes furiously glared at Hashirama ( his Brother only laughed at his face ) and stiffly collected the painting in his arms. He avoided the stunned Uchiha Brothers eyes as he exited Hashirama’s office.

Izuna stared amusedly at the closed office door. " That's honestly a cute story, Hashirama. Whatever happened to Takeshi–san though?. "

Hashirama scratches his chin in thought. " Oh. He got married to a nice Civilian girl and they had a bunch of kids. "

Madara who was listening for the most part scowls and gripes at his bestfriend. " I sure hope you won't invite Takeshi in Konoha then? "

Hashirama and Izuna stares flabbergasted at Madara's reaction. " Why? " They asks at the same time.

Madara glaring furiously at the wall, answered. " Well, I sure hope Tobirama won't be seduced by his first crush again because I've been asking for Tobirama to go out with me and fucking hell Hashirama!. I want my soon to be Perfect Trophy Wife too! "

Hashirama and Izuna both deadpanned at Madara's declaration.

Before Madara could rant passionately about his failures in asking out Tobirama. The office door opens again. The three Men looked over to see who would dare to interrupt them.

The door revealed Tobirama who pokes his head from behind the door. He's still blushing furiously but he turn to Madara and shyly said. " Um, we can have a date tonight, Uchiha–sama. You can pick me up at 6 P.M...and um, have a nice day, Madara–sama. "

And with that shocking offer; the office door closes again.

Hashirama slowly rotates his head and stares down at his suddenly dazed bestfriend. " Oh No, you don't!. I won’t let you go on a date with my dear Otouto! "

Izuna scowls ( offended in behalf of his brother ) and shouts back. " You will imbecile! If you don't want Tobi gutting you!! "

Madara, not hearing the two bickering Men's words, walked in a daze to the door and slipped out of the Hokage's room without the other Men non the wiser.

Approaching the Secretary's desk; Madara with a bright blush on his face ask Hashirama’s secretary ( a Yamanaka from her looks ). " Um, where did Tobirama–san went, Yuzuki–san?. "

The Yamanaka stared unimpressed at the Uchiha Clan Head.

" I am not your match maker, Uchiha–sama " but then her serious look was quickly replaced with a sly one. " He went back to his own Home. Its supposed to be his day off you know. "

Madara coughs in embarrassment and with a wave of thanks, disappeared from the hallway using a Shūnshin.

A Nara pops out from the shadow behind the Yamanaka and he lazily asked.

" I win. Yuzuki. Pay up you sly wench. "

Yuzuki scowled and tosses two gold coins to the Nara. " Fuck you, Shin. I'll win next time. I'll bet you it would take a year before they even get married. "

Shin yawned and wave away his friend's premonition. " And I'll bet you ten gold coins that Madara–sama will just eloped with Tobirama–sama. "

Yuzuki gasp, scandalous. " He wouldn't dare!. The Hokage would kill him!. "

Shin stared at her with eyebrows raised. The Yamanaka stares back with trepidation clear in her light blue eyes.

" I'll pray everyday to the Sage that won't happen cause Konoha wouldn't survive Hokage–sama's wrath. "

Shin only shrug and melted back into the shadows. He left his friend clutching her hair in distress at the thought of Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara duking it out again because the Hokage refuses his Brother to date and be Wedded to his bestfriend. Its too troublesome for a Nara to even dare to step in between the Uchiha and Senju spats.

Besides, he had a feeling Madara–sama will literally kidnap the younger Senju if Hashirama–sama tried to interfere their courting....

Shin scratches his scalp. " How troublesome ". He intoned lazily. He doesn't look forward to Konoha exploding because Hashirama–sama would raze Hi no Kuni to the ground if that day ever comes.

And it will come.

Because a Nara is never wrong with their calculations.....

#madatobi #uchiha madara #senju tobirama #childhood crushes #naruto fanfiction #founders fanfic #amsen writes

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oliveroctavius · 4 months

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Did you check out the first issue of the new Ultimate Spider-Man? I'd be curious to see your thoughts

I was planning on letting it pass by me, zen-like. I kind of... disapprove of the entire concept. The more redundant universes Marvel creates (note that I say redundant, in that I like some AUs with recognizably different heroes and story lines) the more it approaches a DC-like level of story fragmentation, where nothing has to matter and everything runs on vibes. Every new restart survives an even shorter amount of time. It's a death spiral.

But alright. I may not know who Hickman is but some other people seem to like him. I'm Charlie Brown, the new title is a football, here's some of the whistling my foot makes as it flies through the air.

First off a disclaimer: comics are into longform storytelling these days, so almost nothing happens in this issue by design. This is a setup, not a story. I can point out some pettier dislikes, but I can't know what might turn out well yet.

I get that this is going to tie in to the Maker, but calling this USM is a bogus decision that is going to cause so much confusion down the line. It's like they didn't want to admit they were setting up yet a third story. See above grouch about redundant universes.

Uncle Ben being alive instead of Aunt May is a hell of a decision. But I like Hell Of A Decisions if they're pulled off with confidence. I miss og USM's ponytailed gentle old hippie Uncle Ben, I admit. He had a surprising amount of characterization, which I always liked about that series.

I... do not get... why they are homewrecking Robbie + JJJ for Ben. Like, I'm kind of offended on Robbie's behalf. og USM already put some of Robbie's plotlines into Ben--I mean, Ben Urich's hands, but this is more based on 616, isn't it? Robertson's personal moral compass and how that interacts with his job and his safety and his journalistic ethics AND his relationship with Jameson's short-sighted tendencies have been the core of his character for 60 years. Could we not think of something new for Uncle Ben to be doing instead of overwriting an existing character relationship and adding next to nothing to it? And Robbie's there and just kind of fine with the Kingpin's proposal as far as we see so far. This is probably my biggest complaint.

The kids could be an interesting element, but we don't really see any of that yet so it's purely potential.

The Harry fans seem to like this new Harold and his visual design so far. I suppose he's not fully flavorless but the flavor that is there is like. Salt and pepper.

MJ could stand to look older and have more characterization but that is not an original observation. Wait, she's definitely based off her 616 self and not her USM self isn't she? God why DID they call this USM, this is a structural publishing nightmare

The Goblin design is what people think the Raimi goblin costume was, which is not exactly a compliment. Also I *know* I'm the Goblin Fan but are there, really no other villains you could think of to open with? No? Is this the only plot point that's ever going to get adapted over and over again? Maybe it will be good and I'll be glad, I think! And then imagine Charlie Brown and the football again.

Another thing that really got me was the churning camera angles on some of the simplest scenes here. I respect the dutch angle hustle, Chechetto, but if I'm feeling seasick while trying to follow a scene where people have a conversation while sitting down then you might want to rethink your strategy.

To misquote Roger Ebert for a second, "the penciler has learned from better comics that artists sometimes tilt their panels, but it seems he has not learned why."

#if it was actually going to be Miles as his universe's primary spider-hero again I would have been more interested #oliverliveblogs #ugh adding this to my usm tag is going to make things so confusing

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eric-the-bmo · 4 months

Text

The Neighborhood Watch, S3 ep3: Who Is She?

[Summary: Markus hangs out with their sister while Song and Louis head back to the casino only to make a discovery. John meets up with Clara and gets caught up in romance, and we learn new things about Shelby.] (this one feels super long btw! It's very detailed bc im insane over the whole thing Oops) @gr3y-plays-ttrpgs

The rest of the Main Cast approaches Marku's house; they open the door, and it smells like weed and Chinese food. Markus lights some incense for Louis (he Does Not like the smell of weed), and a voice calls out from the hall- Markus introduces the owner of the voice as Analetta, their sister who's going to to school in Japan but stopped by to say hello.

We finally get a description for Analetta: She's very plain-looking, with long straight hair and bangs, neutral clothes, etc- a pink hair clip is the most colorful thing on her.

She greets the Main Cast, shaking hands with the newcomers, but her gaze is stuck on Louis. She swears she's seen him before- he looks so familiar, but she can't remember where she's seen him. Louis is confused because they have met before, and comments it's merely a trick of the trade.

Markus complains about the couple who's doing this week-long tour thing for their bug exhibit, but hey at least they'll get money for it. They thank the rest of the Cast for coming over to meet Analetta; Family should meet friends, and Ana's the only family Markus has got. She's emotional over the fact her sibling has friends, finally.

Markus introduces the Cast to her, and I'm mildly offended on John's behalf that his hair was compared to ramen. Meanwhile, Analetta wonders if Markus has mentioned Shelby before- they deny it. Nope, not at all. They've literally never talked about her what do you mean.

Song and Louis mention they should get back home- they've got, uh, cooking lessons. Analette mentions she'd like to try some of the food they'll make, and the others chime in- Louis is internally panicking because they are not doing any actual cooking tonight, but Song remedies this by saying hey, how about Monday instead? She'd also like to use her new kitchen, since her house finally got rebuilt about the Gnome Incident.

There's a knock at the door- Gerald, the guard sent by Song's father to discreetly watch over her, is at the door asking for a cup of sugar with a very bad attempt at an American accent. Markus gives some to him, shenanigans ensue (i was afk </3, but at one point Louis, detecting Gerald's actual accent, spoke French to the man, and Gerald tried So Hard to pretend he didn't know that language) and Markus ends up slamming the door in his face. Song apologizes about the whole thing; her dad is overprotective. She says she'll talk to her dad about possibly lightening the security around her, since she can take care of herself/she's safe around the rest of the Main Cast.

Analetta mentions she ordered more food, but Song and Louis start to head out. Before the couple leaves, though, they take note of what the others like; Markus, with a cabinet full of instant ramen, lies and says Italian- Louis is hyped over the idea of making pasta from scratch. Song puts $50 somewhere Markus can find it later to pay them back for the sugar (50 bucks?? yo???), and the couple heads off.

Shelby notes that John should be heading to that thing he needed to go to; Does he need a ride? John says he'll be fine walking, and he'll let Shelby knows how it goes- he'll try to be safe! And so he starts the almost-hour-long walk, ruminating over everything that could possibly go wrong with it.

---

Shelby heads off to put on some more casual clothes, since she's still all dressed up from the casino- she'll be back in a moment! As she leaves, Analetta is adamant Markus has mentioned her before. She teases Markus about her, while they deny having ever talked about Shelby, until:

["my bugs are very good at getting rid of bodies," Markus states. It's a threat, but in the typical joking manner one has for a sibling. "If you kill me," Analetta responds, "My body will rise up and annoy you forever." "hm nevermind, i don't want that."]

Kyle, the only Doordash guy in town, finally arrives with the food Analetta ordered. Markus gives him a 40$ tip, and assures Kyle they'll be able to eat all of it; some people are coming over anyway.

Shelby returns, no longer in a dress but in a baggy sweatshirt, and she's hyped over the pizza and tacos they've got- there were only alcoholic drinks at the casino. Shelby tries to pay Markus back.

["How much do I owe you for this?" "nothing. you're a friend." "Markus, I can pay you back. I have money." "so do i!"]

Shelby asks how the bug tours are going- horrible, answers Markus. They dislike the fame but they will keep taking people's money. They offer her a joint, and upon her request they go to make brownies instead.

----

John's been fidgeting with his hands, and his phone starts to lag a little bit as he gets closer to the casino. Eventually he spots Clara leaving the building. Oh god, here we go.

Clara gives John that white person smile as she approaches (fuck). They have a short conversation, agreeing to go to the coffee shop in town since the casino is a bit... Well, it's a lot. Clara offers to drive to the cafe, leading him to a motorcycle. John is impressed! She tells him she decided to use her first paycheck to buy her dream vehicle, and tosses him a spare helmet.

["You're going to have to hold on," She tells him as he gets on. "To what?" "To me," She says. "So you don't fall off." "...oh!" Carefully, he does so, trying to be gentle with his claws.]

---

[The bike pulls into the parking lot of the shop; Grounded In Nature, the cat cafe that's also the only coffee shop in town. "You can let go now, you know." "Ah- sorry."]

As the two of them enter, some of the cats run away from them- John apologizes like it's his fault (it is). They sit down, place their orders, and after talking over each other at first, Clara tries again: It was a blur last time she saw him (she was in the forest??), and then there was a lot going on, she got a new job and didn't know how to contact him, and hadn't seen him in town.

Their drinks are brought over- the only employee had spelled their names wrong. A fluffy white cat, brave to approach them, sits next to Clara.

John apologizes for not seeing or contacting her- he doesn't say how he was nervous she'd see he looked different from last she saw him- and they begin to talk a bit more; Clara jokes about her job, John says he loves to listen to people talk about their interests, etc.

And John swears that the cat near her rolls its eyes, like it's tired of how awkward their chat is, and then it jumps up onto the table and knocks over Clara's drink!!! Hey now! >:-0

John stands up, apologizing like it's his fault the cat did that, grabbing a bunch of napkins for her and being like hey?? are you okay??? She says she's okay, it was iced coffee so it didn't hurt, and she needed to change out of her work uniform anyway. Clara looks like she's struggling to say something else, and her gaze locks onto John's.

[Her eyebrows furrow slightly. "...Have your eyes always been that color?"

He looks away.]

She eventually asks if he and Shelby are dating- he stammers out a refusal, saying that while he cares very much about Shelby, he's not romantically interested in her. He leaves out how important she is to him, worrying that would hurt Clara's feelings.

["Okay, got it." Clara takes a breath, and meets his gaze.

"You know I like you, right?"]

There's about three seconds as John's brain catches up with what she said. There's a bit of war in his head- he's thrilled she likes him, but at the same time... there's no way, right? (Oh, the joys of low self-esteem)

[There's a small smile- a mix of disbelief and joy. "...You like me?"]

Clara apologizes for assuming that he and Shelby were together and for assuming he would know she liked him, and John apologizes for being oblivious, saying that no one's ever been interested in him before like this; he doesn't quite know what to do, but he can try this out.

They exchange numbers, and Clara offers him a ride home.

----

Song and Louis enter Lestat's home, and he greets them with a glass of what might be red wine, and a phone to show them all the social media posts people made about them at the casino; it's clear he wants to go there with them. Song and Louis jokingly make fun of Lestat's age and his language about social media apps.

["Lestat," Song asks, "How old are you anyway?" "Old enough," He turns around. "But we're not here to recount tales of the French Revolution."]

They start to get ready, with Song and Louis picking out new suits and dresses for the night.

Song looks out the window, because she hears an engine- and sees John, getting off a bike with a woman! Clara and John hug, and John is made aware of how easy it would be to hurt her in this moment- his small growl is hidden by the engine of her bike.

They pull away, and she drives off with a goodbye. John stands for a moment, reeling, until he sees Sammy and Heath pull up into their driveway- hey, Heath was taken away by the guards, remember? what's up?

So John goes up to greet the couple, asking what happened- Heath tells him that, well, it got loud in the casino, so Sammy had started using ASL to talk to him. The guards thought it was code or something relating to cheating at the casino games, Heath is saying, so they took him away just to look over the security footage. Other than that, they did pretty good at the casino and won some cash, as well as some compensation for the misunderstanding. They decided to go home right after.

John doesn't believe that because I don't, this casino is sketchy as hell, so he rolls to Investigate a Mystery and infers that Sammy seemed to have been in there way longer than it would've taken to just review footage. Suspicious but not knowing where to go from there, he bids them goodnight and heads over to Markus's.

["do you want a joint?" Markus holds one out to him. "No, thank you," John says as he enters. "I'm fine." Weed wouldn't be good for him, given his tendencies. They shrug, turning away. "okay, that's fine. don't eat the brownies, by the way; they've got weed in them." John slowly puts the brownie in his hand back onto the tray.]

The four of them play board games and chat; Analetta shares embarrassing stories about Markus (though she's still confused over how she can't remember the details of them leaving), and Shelby shares some about her and John, mentioning that they met when she hit him with her car.

["How did you manage to do that?" Markus asks. "It was dark!" She said. "I was in a hurry, and he just ran out into the road!"]

John asks why she had been it a hurry that night- this is new to him. It was an unspoken rule between them that they never talked about their pasts, but...

She explains that she's not originally from Greenville; she's from somewhere up East, but she had to get away, so she got in her car and drove as far as she could until she felt it was good enough to stop.

["And then when I hit John, I thought 'Oh, surely this can't get any worse!'"]

John is sympathetic, and Markus offers support. Shelby says she doesn't need to worry about that anymore- and besides, she's got John! He's tough! He jokingly(?) threatens to fight anyone who hurts her, and she lightly punches him in the arm in response.

Markus makes a comment that maybe if they get a divers license, that's how they can get more friends. John responds that maybe Not having one would increase their chances.

Eventually, Markus and Analetta head off to bed, and John and Shelby start their short walk back home.

["That was fun," Shelby said, walking ahead of John, "But I think I'm just gonna head to bed once we get inside." John hummed, a tiny smile at his lips. "So do you want me to tell you the news tomorrow morning, then...?" Shelby spun around to face him. "No no," she said, walking backwards with a grin. "You can't do that- you're telling me now."]

He reminds her of Clara, his old coworker, and that she confessed that she liked him; They might go on a date.

[Shelby pauses from unlocking the door. "That's..." She turns to him. "John, that's great!" "I know, right!"]

The two of them enter the house as John expresses his amazement at this; he never thought that anyone would ever ask him out?? He asks Shelby for advice- because she's gone on dates before, right?

[She winces. "Yeah, uh- I don't really do the whole dating thing anymore. I haven't had much luck with that."]

She suggests the dinner Song and Louis are planning on Monday- unless John wants a private date, something more intimate? But he thinks back to the hug earlier, and says the dinner would be a better idea. He can call them tomorrow and ask if he can bring a plus-one.

Shelby mentions she's going to go to bed. As she gets up from the couch, she puts a hand on his arm. She tells him she's glad he's happy, and heads off to her room.

Markus goes to get water, but the thing is that their window can actually look directly into the window to Shelby's room; They see her close the door and fall onto her bed, sobbing. They pull out their phone and call her. Shelby stops crying to answer it, and they ask if she's okay. She says she'll be fine.

["You know I'm only a phone call away," Markus offers. They watch as she reaches for a plushie and hugs it tight. "...Thanks." She says nothing else.]

---

Meanwhile, the Trio (comprising of Louis, Song, and Lestat) heads back to the casino, dressed in fabulous outfits. Lestat had fed earlier, and due to the life running through him he's able to show up in photos for a bit. They enjoy themselves, and are invited up to the second floor of the casino. It's grand, full of upper class ambience and elegant people at the tables- the Trio doesn't recognize anyone, but heads over to play one of the card games. There's a well-dressed man making his way to each group of people, chatting before moving on to then next group. Finally, he reaches these three and introduces himself as Mr. Grant, one of the people who helps run the Vault Casino. They compliment it, saying it's lovely.

Then Mr. Grant leans forward, asking Ms. Song O'Sullivan if he can speak to her privately- her eyes immediately go up to the security cameras (They're not looking at her). Louis gets bad vibes from this question and asks why can't all of them be there? Grant says its of a private and serious manner. Louis continues to object, and the man says it's about their.. extracurricular activities. (monster hunting?)

Song sends her boyfriends a telepathic message, telling them that if she's not back in five minutes they can raze this casino to the ground. They let her go; Louis starts a timer on his phone. Mr Grant leads her to the elevator, and they start to head up to the third floor- that's normally off-limits, isnt it?

A telepathic message from Song: "Third floor."

Two security guards approach Lestat and Louis, asking them to please come with them. Louis objects and Lestat tries to be civil, but the guards are firm. Lestat also has telepathy, as he had used it last season, and he sends Louis a message: He's trying real hard to not tear these guards apart, as he's working on being a better person, so it would be in both their best interests to comply. Besides, they've worked together before, he and Louis- they can fight their way out later if needed.

The vampire and Southern gentleman finally comply, and are lead to the elevator- but unlike Song, they start going down. Basement One.

Louis mentions they must be getting special treatment, then, if they're heading to an off-limits area! The security guards make a comment implying they've been bringing the supernatural folk (though they didn't quite use that phrasing, it was heavily implied) in town down to the basements- just for a little chat, is all.

["Well," said Louis, "If you know of those kinds of folk, then you surely know what me and my partner here are capable of?"]

Meanwhile, Song is on the third floor.

It's dark, with the only light source coming from below them; It's built almost like a balcony, with railings and windows that reveal the lower levels of the casino and everyone milling down below. The ceilings must be two-way mirrors.

There's a flick of a lighter from the far side of the room, and a dim glow as a cigarette is lit up. The lamps follow its lead, turning on and lighting up the place. There's a woman on the far end, holding a long cigarette holder. She's got the beauty of an old movie star, with an elegant red dress, a feathered boa, and long black gloves.

"What's wrong, darling?" She asks Song. Their eyes are the same color; a deep blood red.

"...No hug for your mother?"

Notes/Commentary:

SO MUCH HAPPENED THIS SESSION?? I LOVE IT HERE Also cheer for me, this one was almost entirely off memory. I'm so cool lmao

Why doesn't Analetta remember Louis? The way the DM played it seemed to be supernatural in nature... is it because Louis made a deal with the Devil? or is there something else to it?

Sorry, listen, i know i bring it up every time but Song's house getting blown up by gnomes is so wild to me. I love how that's a canonical thing.

Song with the sugar, pretty much:

"Would Shelby smoke weed?" "So fun fact I keep a list of everything we've ever learned about Shelby because I'm Normal about her-"

Shut up i lost it when Kyle finally showed up. He's only been mentioned and never shown, I feel like i met a celebrity /hj

I started YELLING at the white person smile comment i'm !!!!! OUGH i Knew it wouldve been awkward!!!

Those cats are so sentient. I'm calling it. Also do you think Jewel the employee mispells the customer names so they won't be taken by the fae who runs the cafe?? oh shit what if the cats were people-

During the cafe scene Markus's player sent a message in the chat like "Two autistic people flirting. beautiful <3"

I was so in-character!! /pos Not me going into my pockets like i had a flip phone in there aughgh

John never saying he liked Clara back!!! Only that he would like to try out dating!! bc thats what people do!!!! aaaa!!!!

There's some memory manipulation going on in that casino.

John and the hug was wild bc?? The dm was over here describing how she was small and I was all "well. might as well roll for hunger" and you would Not believe how badly I fucked that up lmao. I was going to spend a luck point; since the dm wasn't expecting me to roll for his hunger, though, he let me off the hook. Thanks DM <3

The "markus getting a car to make friends joke" was originally an ooc bit from earlier and then we just??? Acted it out? Love it here

SHUT THE UFKC UP IM GOING TO THROW MY CHAIR. ROOMMATE DUO ALWAYS HAD ANSGT POTENTIAL AND NOW ITS WORSE.

SHE LIKES HIM???? IM IN A LOVE TRIANGLE-

And Louis's player called it too!!! Like right before the scene that revealed Shelby likes John!!! Aaa!!! [Head in hands]

Also sorry that was Such a shock to me. I genuinely thought she was a lesbian

SONG'S MOTHER!?!?!?

That's why Greyson was doing this job thats why he said it was personal!! THATS HIS WIFE RUNNING THE PLACE!!! I thought she was dead!!!!!

We IMMEDIATELY ran to make theories about Song's mom: is she a demon? Is Song a pact child?? What if her mom's a dragon! Song has a fang earring doesn't she? Is the fact her mom's supernatural why she's so good at magic? What's her mother doing gathering all the supernatural folk anyway? Shaking my computer I WANT ASNWERS /lh

Hey. Hey DM. Is Emmett the AI man okay?? Why did you bring up the fact we havent heard from him in a while in the same breath as mentioning the casino's effect on our phones. SIR??? IS HE OKAY???

#eric finally speaks #motw campaign #john doe #the neighborhood watch #the neighborhood watch recap #monster of the week

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tathrin · 11 months

Note

Kiss #44 out of lust? If you want! Not sure how spicy you want to make it if you do, it’s up to you

Ooh okay, I'm excited to give it a try! (Let me know what you think of the results, please, folks?) Prompt taken from this; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time, I don’t care how long it’s been. (Just maybe add some context to your ask if it’s been like a month or more since I posted this, because otherwise I won’t know what to do with the random number in my inbox lmao).

"Thank you, Master Legolas," one of the Gondorian counselors said, rising with a thin smile that somehow failed to reach his phlegmy eyes. Legolas was not sure of his name; too many of them looked too much alike, with their pale and wrinkled faces and their dull, lank hair and their duller eyes, all wrapped in heavy robes despite the summer warmth.

Legolas paused, confused by the interruption; why was he being thanked? He had not finished…

"However," the counselor continued unctuously, "I must wonder…and with all due respect to your efforts on behalf of our great city and indeed all of Middle-earth, of course…" He pressed a hand to his chest and gave a shallow bow. Legolas responded in kind instinctively, but the man hardly seemed to care; he went on, still with that thin smile, without pausing for a response. "Well, I must wonder, what would a Wood-elf know of such things?"

"My fellow counselor makes a salient point," said another, rising to his feet beside the first. They exchanged thin and cheerless smiles. "We are indeed grateful for your assistance thus far, Master Legolas, but this is one case in which I fear that an elvish perspective will be of little aid. Let us turn our attention to the aqueduct designs proposed by Beringrond…"

Legolas opened his mouth to explain that he was not speaking of the ways things were done by the trees of his forest, but rather those employed within his father's underground hall, which had a great deal more in common with this stone city and which had furthermore been largely built according to dwarven engineering, not elvish—but the other men were already talking among themselves, their backs turned and their ears closed to him for all that he was still standing there.

He sat down abruptly, the stone bench suddenly very hard and cool beneath him.

Aragorn caught his eye from the far side of the room and grimaced expressively, a silent apology. Legolas understood that his friend was too new a king to wish to risk offending his counselors for so polite a snub. Arwen was more direct in her response, sending directly to his mind her apologies and irritation, along with a firm assurance that the men who thought they would be able to bully her husband and his friends lightly would learn otherwise soon enough.

Legolas was not nearly as skilled in gohanath as Galadriel's granddaughter, and he could not reply in kind without a calmer heart and more time to muster his concentration, so he merely nodded his appreciation and acceptance of her mental words. He even mustered a smile in response, so that she and Aragorn would both know that he nursed no grudge nor held any blame for them over the actions of these arrogant men.

Arwen's answering smile was thin, and the expression in her eyes when she turned to look at the counselors again glittered with grim warning. Legolas had a feeling that this discussion of the city's infrastructure was not going to end the way they expected.

That did not necessarily make him feel better about being snubbed, but it was comforting to know that one's friends were offended on one's behalf.

Gimli was considerably more than merely offended. Legolas could almost feel the bench beneath him vibrating with the outrage that thrummed in the dwarf's veins. He pressed a hand to Gimli's knee and squeezed, hoping both to convey how heartening it was to see such rage kindled on his behalf and to convince the dwarf to keep said rage bottled-up for now; better to let Aragorn and Arwen tear down the arrogance of their council politely rather than for he or Gimli—interlopers here, both of them, for all that they had come to help—shout about it.

Gimli tensed, then slumped in resignation. He nodded glumly, but his eyes still smoldered as he glared at the pompous men swanning around before them in their heavy robes and tawdry jewels. Legolas smiled, and patted his knee again before withdrawing his hand and resuming a polite, attentive posture.

He could do nothing about the flush of shame that darkened his ears, of course, but none of the men were paying him any attention anyway so he doubted they would make much note of it.

The discussion of the proposed aqueducts droned on and on, circling in a pointlessly repetitive fashion that would never have occurred in Eryn Lasgalen. Legolas wondered if all men were like this, or if it was a trait specific to those of Gondor; he fortunately had to deal with very little of this sort of thing in Ithilien, for Faramir oversaw all cooperation between his people and the elves who dwelt in those slowly re-awakening lands, and Faramir was a sensible and gallant soul. If such discussions happened in Ithilien, Faramir made sure that they were sorted out before any elves got involved.

Legolas made a mental note to ask Gimli later how such matters were handled in Rohan. He had a hard time picturing the Horse Lords squandering their hours on needless discourse like this, but he had been wrong about men before. They could be such strange creatures, with such very odd ways of looking at and approaching all aspects of the world. Legolas did not think that even if he lived among them for a thousand years he would ever truly understand their minds.

The ones who stood before him now were surely not the best representatives of their peoples, anyway. It was all Legolas could do to keep himself still while they prattled on and on and on, and a sweet summer breeze wafted through the tall windows that lined the conference room. He longed to be out there in the open air doing something, not sitting here in this stuffy room listening to even stuffier men swell themselves up on the empty words of their own self-importance.

When Gimli motioned for him to lower his head so that he might whisper in Legolas's ear, he leaned over eagerly to hear whatever distraction the dwarf might be about to offer—but instead of speaking, Gimli planted a kiss on the tip of Legolas's ear. He gasped, and quickly pressed his lips together to stifle the sound, and none too soon; for Gimli's teeth followed his lips, closing gently around Legolas's ear and biting down just hard enough for a swift, sharp ache to run through him like a trickle of lightning.

Legolas shuddered, and glanced sideways at Gimli with eyes gone wide with shock and horror, but he did not pull away from the grip of those blunt teeth upon his ear, either.

Gimli smiled and released him, but Legolas still did not move; just hung there half-bent, breathing hard, as Gimli spoke at last. "There is something I have wondered," he said, his voice so quiet that his breath barely stirred the hair around Legolas's ear, "for some time now, Legolas."

Legolas's eyes darted around the room. "Yes?" he breathed.

"I have noticed," Gimli said, "the extraordinary sensitivity of elvish ears." So saying he stuck out his tongue and slid it up inside the point of Legolas's ear, as though exploring every curve and crease of the skin within by touch alone.

Legolas pressed his lips together tightly and managed to suppress all but the faintest gasp of a moan. His eyes had gone closed, and he was not sure precisely when; only that he did not dare open them, for fear that what little control he had would evaporate at the sight of his dwarf.

His hands were on Gimli's knees now, his long arms trembling with the effort of keeping himself upright; his fingers dug in hard, clinging to that solid dwarvish flesh as though Gimli's legs alone held him up above the edge of an endless cliff.

Gimli grinned—Legolas could feel it in the way his beard moved as it brushed his flushed and tingling ear—and murmured, "Sensitive indeed! So sensitive, in fact, that I have long now been wondering…"

He paused, and Legolas swallowed against a throat gone suddenly as dry as the plains of Gorgoroth.

"Is it possible, do you think," Gimli said, "to move an elf to spill his pleasure by a touch upon his ears alone?"

Legolas moaned aloud, he could not help himself. He sank into Gimli's lap, going as loose and limp as molten gold—and then quickly thrusting himself back upright on their bench, his eyes snapping open again in horror as he remembered where they were, what they were doing.

As ignored as he had been before, the eyes of the whole council room were on them now. Legolas could feel the hot flush sinking down his ears and spreading sideways across his cheeks. "Oh," he said, swaying to his feet. "I—forgive me, the—I was only—the air is very close in here, I—I did not mean—"

"I think our Wood-elf needs some fresh air," Gimli said over his stammering. He climbed off the bench and dropped down beside Legolas, then took one of his hands and patted it soothingly between both of his. "If you will excuse us both, your highnesses, I will see to it that he is properly attended to."

Legolas trembled, and bit the inside of his lip to restrain the noises that wanted to slip free of his mouth in response to Gimli's promise of attending to him.

"Of course," said Aragorn. His eyes were bright with confusion and concern alike, and Legolas forced himself to smile reassuringly at his friend. Aragorn raised his eyebrows, a silent question.

Legolas replied with a gesture so vague that even he wasn't sure what he was trying to say, and he saw Aragorn's gaze drop to Gimli's face instead. Gimli nodded confidently and Aragorn gave a little shrug, as though resigning himself to trusting the elf and dwarf to look after one another instead of prying further.

Legolas was so relieved he almost melted off his feet again.

"Thank you," he murmured, ducking his head to avoid the stares of the councilors.

"Do feel better soon, Legolas," Arwen chirped, and Legolas felt his blush deepen.

"Er," he said. "Thank you, your highness."

He sketched the swiftest, shortest bow of his life and fled the room.

Gimli followed him, chuckling to himself, and Legolas shot him a surly glare the moment the door closed behind them.

"What in the name of your precious Mahal was that about?" he demanded.

Gimli raised his eyebrows, a hirsute picture of innocence. "Whatever do you mean?" he said. "I thought I made my intentions…" He grinned, and there was no trace of innocence left on his bearded face now. "Quite plain." He caught Legolas's hand again and pressed a kiss to the sharp knuckles, then pulled Legolas along after him down the hallway. "Quite plain, indeed."

Legolas shivered and did not withdraw his hand.

"Yes," he said, widening his stride to catch-up so they were walking now side-by-side. He was a little annoyed to hear his voice come out in such a low rasp. "But why there? Why now? Why," he implored, "in front of the entire High Council of Gondor?"

"I did not like how they spoke to you," Gimli growled, his grip on Legolas's fingers tightening.

"I did not much care for it myself," Legolas agreed archly, "but I do not see where the one thing follows the other!"

"I did not want to cause trouble for Aragorn by speaking-out against them as I wished to," Gimli explained, "so I resolved to take you away from them and show you the proper appreciation that a treasure like you deserves." His eyes twinkled up at Legolas like polished agates. "For as long as it takes until you are suitably assured of my high regard for every last inch of you, my dear. Starting with those two long points, if you please."

Legolas's knees wobbled under him. "Gimli…"

"You are lucky," Gimli rumbled, "that I cannot easily reach your pretty ears without breaking stride, or I would have you singing your pleasure right here in the middle of the hallway."

Legolas choked on his own breath. Only Gimli's hand in his kept him moving, pulling him forward when his feet would have faltered and left him standing there stupefied on the floor. Two clerks nodded to them politely as they passed and Legolas could feel his ears burning afresh.

"Gimli!" he hissed. "What if they'd heard you!"

"If I could reach your ears," Gimli grumbled, "they certainly would have heard you."

Legolas whimpered. He saw Gimli's beard twitch over a smug smile in response, and flushed darker. It was hardly his fault that dwarves kept all their most sensitive parts well-covered—save their beards, of course, but it would have been exceptionally rude to fondle a dwarf's beard in the sight of strangers. Legolas was far too polite to do such a thing to his friend (the occasional subtle tug or tweak or twist of its long, rich strands when no one else was looking was something else altogether) and now as thanks for his forbearance, he was being tormented!

"Gimli," he hissed again. "Stop it!"

Gimli only chuckled and pulled him along, now walking a little faster.

"Once I get you into that bed and down within arm's reach," Gimli told him, "I do not intend to stop until neither of us can remember a word of Westron, least of all you, Legolas." He shook his head fiercely, sending his braids bouncing. "Not for anything short of the return of another Dark Lord will I stop—and even then, I would be hard-pressed to find a reason to let you out of that bed while you're still in any state to draw a bow, so we might as well stay put and let someone else deal with it this time."

Legolas was finding it extremely difficult to remember how to breathe, and not because of the speed with which they were currently clattering down the stairs. "Gimli…"

"The sounds I am going to coax out of your bare mouth, Legolas…" Gimli seemed to be speaking as much to himself now as to anyone else, but that did nothing to blunt their effect upon Legolas, who nearly slipped a step—clumsiness that was quite unsuited to an elf!

This whole thing was intolerable. Never before had the exchange of their banter been so unbalanced, not at least so that Legolas could recall—although, admittedly, his recollection abilities were likely not at their best right now, distracted as he was by the images that Gimli's words were sending tumbling through his mind like intoxicating starbursts.

The thought of that skilled and silvertogued mouth applying itself so fervently and extensively to his sensitive ears had his breath catching in his lungs, his blood throbbing in his veins like liquid mithril. He was all but quivering with need, undone by desire for his dwarf.

Their rooms had never seemed so far from the king's chambers before!

"Gimli," he breathed, "you are a menace."

Gimli chucked but did not disagree. "And you are not?" he retorted. "Legolas, the sight of your ears flushing like that in the council room…Mahal, it was all I could do not to have you right there on the bench in front of all those half-bearded fools."

"What?" Legolas squawked. "Gimli!"

"I speak no jest!" Gimli insisted. "Stars above and gems below, Legolas, you know what seeing those ears of yours go dark with pleasure does to me." His broad chest heaved in a sigh like a mountain settling and Legolas's heart skipped a beat in response.

"It was hardly pleasure I was blushing from in there," he protested.

"I know, I know," said Gimli, grimacing, "but I could not see your face from behind you to make note of whatever distress their rudeness caused, my dear; only the tips of your ears, dark and red and so cursedly far away from my hands. How I wanted to touch you, to watch that flush spread down your cheeks and your hair flow loose around my fingers and hear your voice rise in incoherent song under my hands…"

Legolas swallowed and put a hand out to brace himself against the wall. The white stone felt cool under his palm, cool and much more steady on its foundations than was he. Gimli's masterful and lyrical wordsmithing had always been able to move him, but these words fell like an avalanche upon Legolas's heart.

"Gimli," he said and shivered, "Gimli, you…"

"Do you have any idea," Gimli continued as though he had not heard, "what a torment it was to sit there beside you with your blushing ears just over my head, unable to cradle and caress them in the sight of all those foolish, stoneless men? To see that tempting flush, and not dare to touch it? To touch you? Ah, Legolas, I could not bear it. I could not!"

"You did not bear it long, I'll note," Legolas murmured, and Gimli laughed breathlessly.

"No," he agreed, "I admit I did not. But how could anyone have expected me to? A dwarf can endure much, yes; but that!" He shook his head fiercely. "That was too much, Legolas. Even great Mahal himself would have crumbled before such a trial! Stones below, Legolas," Gimli breathed, "the sight of you…"

Legolas shivered again, trembling under the weight of Gimli's adoration—and then he remembered that it had not been men alone who had been in that council chamber.

Perhaps it was time to balance some of those scales from earlier.

He glanced down at the dwarf and said, as calmly and as casually as he could manage with his heart thundering against his ribs and his ears burning so hot it was amazing they had not yet scorched his hair, "Ah, Gimli, you will recall that you mentioned the acute sensitivity of elvish ears before?" Legolas looked up again quickly, before Gimli could see the impish smile he could feel tugging at his lips.

"Yes?" Gimli said. His impatient tone seemed to add, Is that not exactly what we are on our way to explore further?

"Well," Legolas said, as he at last lifted the latch to open the door to their shared rooms, "there is no denying that they are, indeed, quite sensitive to the touch; but you seem to have forgotten that they are very keen of hearing, also."

"Yes?" Gimli said again. "What of it?"

Legolas smiled. "Queen Arwen," he said, "you'll remember, has the keen ears of the elves."

For a moment Gimli just frowned up at him, as though confused as to why Legolas was bringing up Arwen, of all people, when they were about to climb into bed together—and then his eyes widened and his ruddy cheeks went pale.

"Oh," he said in a strangled voice. "Oh, no. Then—you mean—?"

"That she heard every word you spoke to me in the council chamber?" Legolas said. He grinned and stooped to press a kiss to Gimli's forehead before twirling back around and bounding inside. "Yes!" he laughed. "Yes, she most certainly did!"

Gimli moaned and closed his eyes. "I can never show my face in this city again," he declared.

"Then bring your face in here to the bedroom, and the rest of you with it," Legolas suggested. "For you have quite a lot of work to do in here 'ere you will have need to face Arwen or anyone else in Minas Tirith again, my most beloved dwarf!"

"Impudent elf!" Gimli yelled and followed.

The slamming of the door behind him shivered in Legolas's bones like an avalanche and he lay back upon the bed, grinning with anticipation as his dwarf climbed up beside him.

Elven ears, it transpired, were every bit as sensitive as Gimli had hoped, and more.

#not me getting distracted by elf biology nope (whatever the ear-blushing concept is adorable fight me)#(and if their blush starts in their ears then obviously it would spread down the ears and across the face from the sides rather #rather than centering in the cheeks right? and how could a dwarf with his normal face-blushing help but find that adorable?)#(look at least i didn't talk about what elf ejaculate tastes like in this one okay it could be worse)#this is what happens when you ask an asexual to write something sexy: they use it as an excuse to world build XD #i can't help it world building is apparently my version of sex lmao #hopefully it's also sexy too...? if not i'm sorry anon i tried #gimleaf #legolas #gimli #my writing #lotr fanfiction #my stuff #lotr #elvish ears #send a kiss meme

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