#I feel like more people should have a say in such manners

[miwiheroes]

so i truly believe that byler will be endgame. but one thing that still confuses me is the talk between mike and el in the grocery store. what was the whole point behind it and how does add up to mike liking Will if he's trying to explain that he loves el in some weird mike way? you get what i mean? it just doesn't make any sense in my head. so do you have any explanation for that whole conversation?

Hi! Thanks for the ask

I actually really think this scene is a very queercoded scene. So now Mike is actually trying to apologise to El for the things he's done over the past season. He's trying to tell her that he loves her, but he physically can't bring himself to say it. When I first watched this scene, I originally thought that makes sense since he's just a teenage boy and their relationship is played with some humour anyways. But now that we have season 4, it feels like this is a bigger issue than just this scene.

The reason for him not saying I love you to her is literally so hard for me to articulate, since I personally have never had internalised homophobia, but the best rendition i can ever really get is literally from a video by the Daniel Howell from epic duo Dan and Phil (yes, really): So if you're interested in why he can't say it to her due to internalised homophobia, watch this video at from timestamps 18:08 to 18:44.

I honestly don't believe it was him being too scared to admit it, I think it was him being to scared to say it. As if he'll know he's lying as soon as he says it. And I know this because he tries to get her her to say it instead. As if the words are dirty in his mouth.

It's a pretty strange thing to do to write such a conversation in a heavily frustrating manner as this one. It's meant to frustrate the viewer, it's meant to mirror what Mike's feeling. And how is that a characteristic of an endgame couple? It also just shows that they simply aren't on the same page. They don't really get each other.

When El doesn't understand, Mike tries to drag it out as long as possible until they get interrupted. When they do get interrupted by the walkie talkie, he POUNCES on that shit, very happy for an excuse to get out of it.

As for the details of the conversation itself, they are very interesting.

Mike describes the feeling of being 'in love' as something that 'old people say to each other'.

This shows that he views being in love as something that is just part of growing up. He views his relationship with El as something he has to do in order to not be a kid anymore. He emulates his parents' relationship, which might I add, is loveless. So he copies what his parents do, which is saying 'I love you', despite not meaning it.

Right after saying this^^ he says that you eventually get girlfriends, so it's pretty clear that he thinks that in order to not be seen as a kid, he needs to get over Will and just be with a woman. Mike is in a relationship for reasons other than love, just like his parents.

ALSO THIS WHOLE CONVO IS PROOF THAT HE AT LEAST USED TO LOVE WILL DGASJHD

In his words, he describes love as something that 'makes you crazy' and tries to get El to understand through that. And may I harp on about the fact that Mike says to Will they should just go CRAZY together hello??? And Will, in that scene, instantly understands and agrees. It just shows that he views his feelings about Will as love, at least subconsciously, but this time is viewing it as something he needs to grow out of and replicate with El.

This is not even a parallel, it's more like a perpendicular. It literally showcases the exact difference between the two relationships through using the same words.

So yeah, that's what I think of that conversation between Mike and El. All in all, Mike can't actually say the words 'I love you' because they feel dirty to say when they aren't truthful, so he tries to get El to say it. She doesn't understand what he's saying because they aren't on the same page about anything. He tries to explain in terms he understands; his subconscious feelings about Will and the way that his parents say I love you to each other. He views his feelings about Will as childish and sees being with a woman as part of growing up, no matter if you're actually in love, all because of his parents.

<33

[ranticore]

altho i am writing the outline of what will become a Book so i won't be saying everything ever about it, i do still want people to understand what hell i have been in this past week so well here ya go two thousands words of me just Talking about the history of virtual actors and pop stars in the latter half of the 20th century in [setting name pending], this is just some in-universe history b/c that's always fun

The use of virtual constructs (must think of some word that conveys 'AI person trapped in a box who is somewhat magic') in the second half of the 20th century

These constructs are harvested from [redacted] and captured in individualised containers which allow them to be controlled and tuned. 

[copy-pasted from Discord from here on god help u]

So Pascal was basically already decently popular among the public before making his visual film debut for the first time, having been the host of an infrequently-aired radio show. he appeared in illustrations as far back as the 1920s and his appearance did change with the times, though there was some continuity - at some stage in like the 50s maybe they changed him too much in the newspaper ads and there were complaints lol so they changed him back. i think it is more impactful if his appearance is WHOLLY created. so basically in the 20s they were like "if we want people to engage with this guy we have to give him a face" so they gave him a face, he was traditionally attractive but not overly-so, they wanted him to feel relatable as well, not quite an everyman but he had to appear human enough not to make people uncomfortable or fall into the uncanny valley (in the 80s and 90s, this was no longer the design direction lol they cranked the 'impossibly perfect'/uncanny dial up to 11 at that point as the public's level of comfort improved and more out-there stuff became desirable).

When he made his TV debut in 1969 it was hyped up for months with ads which depicted him on set and in more realistic ways (almost appearing to be photographs - some even were!), while public reaction was carefully monitored. This was highly experimental and it still was not known whether the concept worked, so although they did hype it up, there was a level of caution too so as not to invite negative press.

The first series did not involve public audience members but people from the broadcasting studio standing in for them (this was not made known at the time). They used a combination of camera tricks and graphics to make it feel like he was physically standing in a room with these people (bearing in mind he was strictly contained and had no manifestation outside the waves - he was within a container at the base of the broadcasting apparatus, with a recording device which could cast his image live, so viewers at home were seeing cuts of the Pascal feed and cuts of the physical studio and audience stitched together to appear continuous)

That was part of the gimmick - it was commonly felt that a big construct should never be permitted to manifest/should have no manifestation, so the fact that he supposedly was manifesting but friendly and contained was a draw. the ads leaned into it quite a lot - marketing copy implying that you could touch him, go on dates with him, etc but always with a cheeky wink, a "not really", the audience at home were in on the secret of it not being real. but it worked really well and was super effective to generate hype without inviting accusations of trying to replace humans, and it sparked an entire golden era of constructs and manufactured celebrities. Pascal remained notorious for being one of the only ones that could believably interact with a studio audience in an unscripted manner, due to his 'maturity' as a construct and having been brought up in the 19th century conversational era of AI, raised on a diet of talking to philosophers.

The second season of the show came out quickly and to much anticipation, and with members of the public actually participating for the first time. The broadcasters set up a wall of CRTs in the studio which would display the container feed to people on-set, and wired up each audience member with a microphone so he could hear them too (he appeared to see them well enough through the camera equipment). He was excited to interact with them and they liked him too, but he always had this slightly mean streak which his broadcaster tried hard to soften. The meanness worked really well in the reality/game show format (his show was a mixture of contests but basically Wheel Of Fortune) where half the entertainment is watching audience members get dunked on sometimes, and having a slightly sardonic host can help the audience at home root for the contestants to win in spite of his opposition.

Episodes could be produced at a rapid pace by taping multiple at once - three identical sets were built for season 3 allowing for three episodes to be filmed at once because he could of course interact with everyone freely and essentially be in multiple places at once. this was also where the first issues showed up on-set - he began to miss his timing cues, arriving just a bit too late to the stage, or taking slightly too long to finish his nightly sign-off. this was not apparent publicly as the episodes were not shown live and could be edited, but any member of the public who was on the show was often hounded after by superfans, so some stories did come out about Pascal's 'odd' behaviour on set. there was a behind-the-scenes documentary made about the entire production process in season 3 as well, which included some interviews with Pascal himself, but mostly consisted of his handlers and technicians excitedly explaining the broadcast apparatus and containment devices and so on. after The Incident, the rare copies of this film became highly sought-after by collectors. 

There were some teething problems but nothing too major. until the debut of season 4 in 1972, marked by their first 'special', a live broadcast. knowing that this couldn't be edited in post, Pascal took delight in being an absolute demon to the contestants, oftentimes barely staying within the realm of plausible deniability, and he made the wheel of fortune land on BANKRUPT for every single spin, which was not supposed to have been a possibility as the wheel was physical (though the lever which he turned to supposedly spin it was on-screen in the same virtual space with him, so he'd make a show of pulling the lever and some set worker behind the scenes would hit a switch in time to make the physical wheel spin). Again, the tapes of this incident are vanishingly rare as not many TV watchers had the ability to record live TV. But the ratings were huge, so nearly everyone the next day was like "did you see that crazy shit on tv last night???". People LOVED how mean he was and assumed it was just part of the show and that the contestants might have been actors too judging by how genuinely uncomfortable they looked (one even cried!).

Although there was no interruption in the airing of the rest of season 4 (all the episodes having been recorded prior to the live episode), behind the scenes he was barred from filming at this point so that he could be re-tuned and calibrated. But that wasn't the only barrier to the show's production - at this point, TV actors and presenters had started to feel threatened that they would be replaced by constructs which were unpaid and could be in multiple places at once, and had begun to agitate for a strike.

This affected production of the whole studio, and to avoid popular support growing in favour of the strike, they rushed the process to get Pascal back on the air ASAP. They started filming again, with Pascal supposedly cooperative after some finetuning and calibration. His controllers did not suspect how deep into his 'corruption' he had gotten since the TV debut, because he had been very cooperative for decades now just with some odd habits here and there.

It was accepted knowledge that constructs who had become corrupted (read: disobedient. I will have to think of better terms for… well a lot of this stuff) would stop cooperating, just go off the rails and maybe even manifest. Like day and night - perfect one second, monstrously disobedient the next. But he seemed to be normal enough, and his quirks were ascribed to the ageing radio-broadcast equipment they were using to contain him. Though the breakthrough into purely digital formats had not come about just yet, it was definitely on the horizon, and they wanted to keep him going until they could find a way to contain him digitally. For many reasons this never happened. 

Anyway they started filming again, with a backdrop of pressure from the acting union. It had to be proven that the public liked virtual actors, but there were rumblings of that strike, and that it might end up in a potential deal where virtual actors were banned from certain roles and capacities. 

They began filming and it all seemed fine, until

[redacted Incident details]

The public never really knew the full timeline of events that led up to the show's cancellation, because the taping schedule meant that the live episode, the one with the most warning signs, aired before the rest of season 4 did, which was extremely tame by comparison. I mean obviously people aware of how TV is made might have cottoned on to the fact that the live show was his last public performance, but overall that never stuck in people's minds, because they remembered season 4 ending very normally and then it just never being picked up again despite being such a popular show.

People wanted more of Pascal and there was an attempt to revive the radio show but with a human voice actor instead playing his character, but it wasn't popular because that's old news, and people knew pretty quickly that it wasn't really him. That was cancelled too after only a couple of months and the studio had to come out and announce that they had 'retired' him in favour of a more modern construct (coming soon!) because of the limitations of his old technology not being fit for the second half of the 70s and beyond. Pascal merchandise continued to be produced and sold but kind of how snoopy still appears on modern clothing even tho peanuts stopped running years ago - all old assets, relying on nostalgia, never promising a new appearance or refresh. He eventually passed into irrelevance, one of those forgotten childhood moments (he was notorious for being popular among stay-at-home mothers lol and by the 4th season airing, they had intentionally been putting him in less conservative outfits)

The late 70s and 80s saw the start of the digital era for constructs. The technology was more precise (though less resilient) for controlling and programming the constructs. Helper constructs (like AI helpers) had already been a thing for decades in space missions, aviation, and military applications but had started to slowly infiltrate other spheres of life. The digital format allowed them to be individualised and located in an end-consumer's home rather than broadcast from a distant location by some massive building-sized broadcast apparatus, allowing a greater degree of customisability and personalisation. Although acting unions eventually got their way and TV applications were curtailed, TV was no longer the front of the wave for the development of these things. We are now in the Digital Age.

It was all condensing into smaller and smaller pieces of tech, batteries were improving, microchips shrinking, until by the early 90s (mirroring development of portable phones) they could be wearable, and everyone could have a virtual personal assistant or friend. And the music industry was still unconquered ground. Constructs could play instruments, but vocals could be sketchy at times for new constructs who had not been socialised in their developmental period, as was the way of things now (the era of bespoke, decades-long philosophising with constructs to hone their conversational skills and theory of mind died with the turn of the 20th century). These things were being produced fast and had short shelf lives, so they could be rushed to market asap (and by the 21st century were built with planned obsolescence in mind, so that they wouldn't mature enough to allow any corruption to set in). But anyway they did manage to integrate a digital vocal trainer and producing singers became possible again. 

Present day in the story, we are in the height of the boyband boom. At around this time (2003 babey that's where we are now!!!!!) the first 'true' digital pop stars made their debut - Unicorn and Kitty, a duo who always appeared together and were marketed as being partners. These were not wearable or personal assistants, but treated as actual pop stars. There was no more acknowledgement of the virtual star's incorporeal nature, like there had been with Pascal. They were marketed as having rich inner lives and on actually being, for real, alive, but they were not human - they were themed as alien visitors to Earth with marketable but inhuman features. It was all marketing of course but the highly advanced technology by now could almost support this application, and they appeared in hologram form at concert venues, signed autographs, and did collabs with human artists. 

Kitty did not test as well with audiences (Unicorn was more popular and fans who wanted to imagine themselves dating Unicorn would sometimes be vitriolic towards Kitty) and the writers of the duo's life plot decided that Kitty would pull a 'I must go, my planet needs me' and be quietly written out, but it would give Unicorn a chance to perform these breakup songs that had been written for them, now with an almost convincing illusion of sadness. And now, coming soon, maybe YOU could win a date with Unicorn, yes you, normal person sitting at home!

and in case you were wondering what Unicorn looks like, Unicorn basically looks like this:

[twoidiotwriters1]

Chapter 10. Lilacs

Summary: Lately, you seek his approval and he finds himself disliking it, it's more fun when you only seek to amuse yourself.  Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Words: 2,174 Listen to: 'Too Sweet' -by Hozier A/N: I love parallels my beloved -Danny

This author can't say for certain if an artist is better company than the crown, but there must be at least some level of mutual fondness.

Lady Whistledown, October 1815

Dear Diary,

Knowing I should nourish the friendship does nothing but make my lust grow claws and teeth, and each day spent in his company yet lacking his advances makes my soul wither, much like the flowers I press between your pages. 

To have my thoughts held by your spine is no longer enough. I need Benedict to hold me as well, like I feel so very clearly when I sleep.

"You bought a house?"

"Yes."

"Whatever for?"

Benedict stares at you with amusement. "To live in, of course. Just because you sleep out in the open doesn't mean we all enjoy grass, critter."

"Oh please, what you saw that day was a slip of manners caused by jitters. Why would you buy a house when you could rent one?"

"I can do whatever changes I please," he reasons, "I'm not very good at following rules. Better to have my own place and answer to no one."

You hum, appreciating his desire for freedom where society could not meddle. "I suppose congratulations are in order. Will you be hosting a dinner or will I have to invite myself into your home?"

Benedict reigns in the lewd thoughts your wording brings, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Wouldn't that be too mundane of an activity for a Princess?"

"You forget how much I love the mundane," you retort, shading the lilacs you're working on with utter gentleness.

"No, I do not," he says. "But being an introvert does not make you a fan of dull evenings, does it?"

"An evening with you is far from dull," you appease sweetly.

Benedict chuckles. "You do realize that if I host I wouldn't be able to entertain you? You'd be on your own. I doubt your sister would like to waste her evening in the affair."

"You underestimate the allure of the situation. Besides, you're my friend, not a monkey I bought to amuse me, I can survive without your attention for one evening."

The man tilts his head playfully, feeling ten times taller. "Whatever did I do to be considered alluring?"

"The list would be shorter if I went over the things that annoy me," you brush off. "But if you think I'm not ready to face this frigid society..."

Benedict scoffs out a laugh. "Such harsh words from someone who claims to love London!"

"I love it! I love the architecture and its fashion—but I detest your old-fashioned culture. Why on earth am I not allowed to wear my trousers?" You gesture at your legs. "It's not like men don't know what's under the skirts! And children care more about the sweets I keep in my purse than of my body shape."

Benedict laughs, one hand holding his stomach. "Of course, it is well-known what's beneath your garments, and what we hate the most is to have a more defined view of your figure knowing we can't have it! If we can't have fun, neither can you."

"That's hardly my problem, is it? In Genovia, people who harass strangers get fined, and if they get physical, they pay double and get locked up for the number of times the victim asked them to go away."

"Each equals to a day?"

"A month," you declare with sanctimonious air. "The number of offenders decreased since the law was created."

"Your country is Eden to progressive folk," he concedes. "Such a pitty the heir struggles with talking to large crowds."

You glare at him, tossing a tiny piece of chalk at his head. "I suppose that having all this freedom makes it daunting to take the first step," you eye your drawing, struggling to figure out the proportion. "Organized spaces make my brain go at a proper pace. I thrive in order, so I shall make a grand queen one day."

Benedict stares at your drawing, reaching to correct some things with his chalk, his movements fluid. "So your prudish conduct is only sustained thanks to the lack of steps to follow when it comes to misbehaving?"

"I'm not prudish!" You redden. "And that's not what I was saying, either."

"But if I gave you a list," he says, trying to conceal his amusement, "would you be tempted?"

"Can we go back to the lesson, please?" You ask flustered.

"Now we care about the lessons," he teases you. "I suppose I should stick to it. After all, you were so careful to make it so you didn't have to go around exploring new things."

"Enough!" You snap. "You think I'm cowardly, but I'm more scared of being Queen and failing my people than I am of being caught sneaking out of the castle—so test me if you want, we can bet on it!"

Benedict hesitates, unfamiliar with your temper. "I'm only teasing."

"Let's bet," you press stubbornly.

"That is beneath you," he resists.

"Benedict."

The young man leans back and studies you with mild annoyance, he doesn't think you're a coward, but admitting that out loud would bother him more than letting you believe the opposite. Lately, you seek his approval and he finds himself disliking it, it's more fun when you only seek to amuse yourself. 

Benedict tries to come up with something that you'll say no to, better if it makes you think he's a bit of a cad so you go back to not caring about his opinion. "How about a visit to the Academy of Arts?"

You frown, finding his challenge boring. "That's—"

"At night, just the two of us." He finishes. "Some students stay and experiment with art and... other things. You may find women in trousers—or a gentlemen in skirts, if you arrive at the right hour."

The opportunity you've been craving has been given to you on a silver platter... and you're paralyzed in terror at the prospect. His gaze holds untold memories, he's lived things that would make the catholic guilt of thirty very regretful nuns take possession of your juvenile body.

Marie was right, you don't need to know what kind of lover he is to know your experience isn't enough for what he could do to you. Nevertheless, your longing to feel him squeeze you with his bare hands makes you cave like a house of cards, and before you can think it through, you speak. "I accept."

"You—you do?" He stammers.

"You can wait for me five minutes away from the castle's main entrance," you say as collected as possible. "How late is it late enough? Eleven? Midnight?"

"Eleven, but—"

"When?"

"Your Royal Highness, are you—"

"I say what I mean. Yes. When are we going?"

He swallows thickly, unable to take it back. "Thursday?"

"Thursday—eleven. Bring a carriage." 

You offer to shake his hand. Benedict has never seen anything more enchanting than you right, with your brow furrowed in determination and the devastatingly loose material of your shirt resting on your collarbone, he wants to pull it downward just an inch and find out if your voice goes higher or lower when you're kissed there.

He shakes your hand, squeezing a bit more than he should. "And if you don't show?"

You smile. "I'll show up, Benedict. What if you don't?"

Benedict pulls his hand away, closing it in a fist and rubbing his thumb over the patch of skin where your warmth remains. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

You sit with the Queen and your sister while watching the Eros and Psyche dancers, tapping your foot impatiently as you sneak glances at the box on the far right, where Benedict is dutifully chaperoning his sisters Eloise and Francesca. 

Marie presses a hand on your knee. "I can feel you moving, you're distracting me."

"Sorry," you mumble. "I'm bored."

"You love plays," she rebukes, eyeing you with irritation. "What has you so..." As she speaks, understanding dawns upon her and she looks around, quickly finding the reason for your impatience. "Oh..."

"I'm fine," you blush.

Marie holds back a grin. "Right. Why didn't you ask your gentleman to join us? You could've spent the hour giggling with each other and mocking the dancers."

"Neither of us would've done that. He's an artist, and I enjoy a well-told story," you argue with apprehension. "Besides... I did ask." You make a face. "He's escorting his sisters."

"Oh no," Marie pouts mockingly. 

"I said I'm fine."

"He's looking at you."

You turn so fast only to discover he's focused on the play. You look back at your sister with a murderous gaze and step on her foot, accidentally tearing a bit of your skirt in the process. "Oh, bollocks..."

"Y/N!" Marie hisses. "Oh, you—"

"Is the play not to your liking?" The Queen turns her attention to you, slightly vexed by the noise you're making. 

"No, heavens no, Your Highness," you blush. "We—We are..."

"We were just talking about it, in fact," Marie turns to the Queen charmingly. "About the story."

"What about it?" The Queen questions with impatient curiosity.

"I just... think Psyche was rather silly," you say clumsily.

"Do you know, Your Highness, my sister thinks love is silly," your sister comments in a conspiratory whisper.

"Marie!" You chastise her. "I don't think love is silly—but in this story in particular I just think she was silly to believe her sisters. Whether he was a monster in disguise or not, wasn't of any relevance, was it? She had her needs met, Eros satisfied her, whatever he was. What was the point of digging deeper?"

"You are a woman dedicated to the arts, are you not, Princess Y/N?" The Queen comments, with a sort of motherly air. "Isn't it the point of it, to dig deeper into what we find pleasant?"

"Indeed, but Eros was quite clear in his instructions—"

"Yes, but she was restless," her sister interrupts her, "precisely because she liked him so. No one who falls in love can sit still and ignorant of their lover."

"Hmph," Your heart quickens with guilt, not liking that your sister seems wiser on the subject. "I'm not sure it's worth risking life as you know it."

The Queen returns her attention to the play and you take the opportunity to glance back at the Bridgerton's box, happy to spot Benedict already looking back. He nods in acknowledgement, and you nod back.

As you take a stroll around the ballroom, an elderly couple stands in your way and you politely stop to greet them.

"Did you enjoy the ballet, Mr Bridgerton?"

"Very much," he says with total sobriety, an expression that feels completely out of place within his features. "So much so I wonder if I may have missed my calling... as a dancer." He pouts mockingly and nods with faux pity. 

The elderly couple laughs at his charming display and his face splits into a crooked grin, and you take a weird amount of pride at the way he succeeds so effortlessly. "I must say, I do not know that the male dancer needed to be in such a state of undress."

"He certainly could have put on a shirt."

Benedict prepares to play along and pretend he's equally as aggravated but you speak up, itching to enlighten the elderly couple. "He's playing Eros—he's a representation of erotism. It is part of his characterization, and using his skin to represent the wings instead of having him manoeuvre with a costume was smart. The way ballet dancers dress is meant to better their performance, when telling a story you cannot mind etiquette if its boldness serves a purpose."

The old lady reconsiders. "I can't say I fully understand what you mean..."

"I do," Benedict says with a special twinkle in his eyes. "And I agree."

The old man huffs out a chuckle. "No wonder you've taken Mr Bridgerton under your wing, Your Royal Highness, you clearly have a deeper knowledge of the arts that needs an equally well-versed mind to discuss it."

They excuse themselves as they see another pair of acquaintances and you look at Benedict with a playful air. "Is it comfortable, under my wing?"

Benedict rolls his eyes, shaking his head a little. "Please."

"What?" Your smile widens. "Is something the matter, my equally well-versed mind?"

He laughs, lowering his face to hide the sound from other guests. "All is well, my bohemian princess."

"I'm far from bohemian," you admit, dropping the teasing. "I couldn't possibly live that way, not with my routines and aspirations."

"And I cannot picture a life without the thrill of disruption," Benedict replies lightheartedly.

You look at each other with equal amounts of fondness and irony. "How come we get along?"

"Have I ever said that?" He narrows his eyes in playful confusion. You elbow him, and Benedict takes it in stride; otherwise, you would've struck a servant's platter.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@babypink224221 @Booknerdlife @djsporks @lght-roastcoffee @marii-ren @mythical-goth @omgsuperstarg @creepytoes88 @sarahskywalker-amidala @23victoria @shadowolf993 @squirreljoe @syxtiramishuui @stargirl-mayaa @dolllol2405 @aemondslove @inspiringwaves @optimisticsandwichgladiator @alloof @sydney-m @sirivusblack @mimibookish @marvelouslyme96 @imaginexred @black-kitten-imagines

[dondusthefirstconsul]

Yes Lucilla and Acacius please save Rome!! And holy shit I can't wait to read everything that Acacius has on his heart, all the things he's going to say to the twins. It must be very therapeutic to him to finally tell them exactly what he thinks about them and their horrid ruling of the empire. Yes! Go off Acacius! Also can't wait to read how the twins react.......oh gods.

Speaking of Acacius and the twins, honestly I can't even begin to fathom what it would be like for Caracalla to have a father figure and how he would interact with one. Especially if it's someone as amazing as Acacius. Like you said he's such a strong leader, stern but understanding and caring. From the movie we've seen him delight in irritating Acacius and at first lowkey horny for Macrinus until shit got fucked up and he started viewing Macrinus as a caring father..... Yeah I have no idea what he would act like with Acacius. Can't wait to read about that 😭😭

Oh Geta my love!!! Yes he'll yet be a good leader with Acacius' training and teaching. He likely would begin to understand what makes a good ruler, what kind of virtues a good ruler has and how to act the part. Unfortunately Caracalla has never shown signs of being in touch with reality enough that he could be taught those things. In the script he says something in the lines of "we give them everything, what does she give them?" when people applaud Lucilla so much louder than them. Either he was genuinely oblivious to how they deprived the people of resources and food to conquer more land etc or he thought what they gave them should be enough??

Yes Lucilla would be the perfect ruler if only she could be💔 She's so courageous and so strong and just and righteous. Lucilla truly is the Lady of Rome. She doesn't act with vengeance or malice. She'll sacrifice herself willingly for the greater good Lucilla you beautiful person. Her role in this story is so painful and gruelling. Oh how much Lucilla must see of Commodus in the twins, in their actions and ways, their hunger for power, their cruelty and bloodlust, but also in their desperation for love, appreciation, approval, and affection. Commodus was terrible to her and treated her abhorrently but she still cared for him. Like Commodus the twins wanted to control her and own her, it's a wonder if she has it in her heart to forgive them and maybe even grow to care for them.

And of course there is the matter of Caracalla....... I wonder if Caracalla would learn how to behave around Lucilla. How does one even tell a full grown adult man that you should not behave in such a manner and that some things should not be said out loud. Caracalla has a very unashamed character and does not hide his feelings much. I wonder if he is even capable of feeling shame and guilt? It will get very awkward very fast if he doesn't learn how to respect boundaries. HIS FACE WHEN HE LOOKS AT LUCILLA IS SO oh gods it's so amusing thinking about him behaving inappropriately towards her and Acacius getting mad. I also have no idea how he would learn to see her platonically and familiarly only, given his afflictions. I mean actions can be learnt to control but how can thoughts and feelings be controlled? It's a difficult thing, when one associates parental care and affection with sexual feelings. Something as subconscious as sexuality is not easy to "train away". As much as I find the "does he want a mommy or a mommy? Yes" jokes really funny I also think it's so tragic he's been deprived of parental love so badly that he's started to associate it like this.

Your writing is so beautiful even in such short form 😭♥️ Poor Caracalla, Geta is so mean. I love how dramatic Geta is. He'll never forgive the traitors! Sure you won't baby. (I'm partly joking, he isn't even that dramatic, he's right they were betrayed. I just love when he's dramatic.)

unhinged concept (I'm entering that stage): Lucilla actually does adopt Geta and Caracalla which ruins Acacius's life but also makes him their step-father and they finally get an actual father figure who teaches them how the fuck to hold swords and not be the worst people ever.

and we just cancel Macrinus entirely, which, I don't know what the hell happens to Lucius but that's someone else's unhinged concept to worry about.

And we put Caracalla on a leash because the boy cannot behave. That's no way to treat your mother

[lurafita]

It's supposed to be about the meeting, Magnus!

Raphael: "Everyone in favor of Magnus never being made to keep protocol of the cabinet meeting again, say aye."

Every downworld leader: "Aye."

Magnus: "I take offense to that."

Raphael: "Do you need me to read the latest one you wrote?

'The meeting, as always, began at an incredibly inconvenient time, which prevented my boyfriend and me from a quality make out session. Non-the-less, Alexander Lightwood started the discussion about unimportant statistics and looking glorious while listing incredibly boring numbers. I did not care to note them down, being distracted as I was by the tousled hair he hadn’t quite managed to tame down, before the mood killers, otherwise known as the downworld Leaders, entered the room.'"

[iwanttobepersephone]

Rant about Harry Potter and JK Rowling, stick with me here

Ok, so, I hate JK Rowling. I feel like that's a given, right? Like, she's a transphobic homophobic bigot who hides behind feminism and routinely denies massive parts of the holocaust, and I despise her in ways that I don't think words can even express. I can't stand her, but y'know what I also can't stand?

When someone implies that my mother, who is one of the most supportive people I know, and a massive part of the founding, organization, and actions of a local group made specifically to fight Moms for Liberty and school boards in our area trying to harm trans and queer people, is transphobic because she likes Harry Potter

Wanna know why my mom likes Harry Potter? Because when she discovered the series at 12 years old, she quite literally lived in a cupboard under the stairs and was in an abusive household. The magic of the wizarding world or whatever was her escape, it's the reason she's still alive, and by extension, the reason I was ever alive.

But, sometimes, not even often, when I try to express even the most minimal amount of appreciation of that, someone says to me "but isn't JK Rowling transphobic? Why would you support someone like that? Are you transphobic?"

Which pisses me off beyond belief, as one might imagine

In this situation, "separate the art from the artist" isn't exactly a good phrase to use, given the fact that the goblins or whatever run the bank are Jewish stereotypes and the house elves generally being happy to work under their masters being a straight rip from the whole happy slave myth, and those are very very important things to recognize and understand, among others

I feel like it's a lot closer to "separate the hundreds if not thousands of lives she's helped from the hundreds if not thousands of lives she's ruined", or even better, understand that the good she's indirectly done for people makes all the bad that much more horrid

My mother is the closest thing to a hero in this entire world and I will not stand to hear one more person accuse her of being transphobic purely because she thinks fondly of a book series that saved her life. I will not stand for people saying she's just as bad as a holocaust denier because she owns every book in the series. I will not stand for anyone going entirely against their point of not judging a group as if it's monolithic by saying all Harry Potter fans are bad people, including my mother. And, once again, it's not often at all that this happens, but it happens and I'm pissed about it and needed to rant

Anyways rant over JK Rowling sucks don't believe a single thing she says and don't support her unless you wanna support someone actively trying to make the existence of queer people illegal

[countingprimes]

sometimes i see queer people make low hanging anti straight jokes, and they'll often pre-defend themselves by saying straight people don't need defending as if the queer community isn't populated by tons of straight people, straight trans people, straight ace people, straight poly people. queerness doesnt exclude exclusively opposite sex attracted people and it bothers me to see these jokes and their subsequent defenses because normative society certainly rejects these folks because of their queerness and now you are inside the queer community rejecting them for who they desire. i think about straight trans folks the most who are out here under fire from normative society who turn to the queer community for support only to be inundated with sentiments like straight people are actually the real lesser than folks, and it's easy enough to say straightness is valorized in normative society so shitting on straight people is punching up, but i can't help but be keenly aware that the queer straight people tend to be queer in the ways which are often excluded from queer community. so actually yeah i do think straight people need our protection, not heteronormative culture, but individual people? yeah. the "coming out as straight" jokes are all haha good times fuck the straights until you think about the fact that straight trans people when they come out are functionally doing that. after all how many straight trans people used to think they were cis gay people. and we, inside the queer community, turn their experiences into a mean spirited punch line designed to reject them from queer community.

like sorry i just don't think we are gonna find queer liberation by trying to figure out which group we are allowed to make fun of for having the wrong sexuality.

[ask-codeearasure]

Hit the nail on the head there, thank you for your service. Insane is one of the many terms tossed around because of motherfucking pop psychology and the fact people just don't give a shit about its actual meaning and previous medical usage, which is also responsible for the irresponsible, dismissive, and derogatory uses for words like delusion, narcissist, bipolar, psychotic, psychopath, and sociopath.

Now... here's the definition of insane given by Google, since people tend to forget that insane and insanity are occasionally used as medical terms to describe severe mental illness.

The term "clinical insanity" doesn't exist in a fucking vacuum. Describing severe mental illness was one of, if not the only, first uses of the word insane before more privileged populations let's say, decided to use it to describe everything they didn't like or found wild.

You see one shitty kind of person and immediately assume they're mentally ill. Doesn't matter if they're an abuser, murderer, or whatever the fuck else is an inherently bad thing to be.

This is one of the BIGGEST reasons why characters like Insanity!Sans needs to have a name change at the very LEAST, because calling an excessive axe murderer cannibal or whatever he's supposed to be a product of "insanity" to the point that is his only title does in fact add to the stigma of people who suffer from insanity.

I don't give a shit that Insanity!Sans might have been made by a kid merely trying to have fun. This is still the result and it SHOULD be changed.

It passes the notion that mental illness is inherently tied to murder, abuse, cannibalism, etc. It sends the message that we are inherently a danger to others, and/or that calling something "insane" that isn't actually insane is perfectly okay when by all means, it shouldn't be. Casual usage of the word is where the second definition came from.

It is the same thing as saying you are "sooooo OCD!" when you're only bothered that a painting on the wall is tilted a little to the left. It is the same thing as saying you're "sooo delulu!!!" when the subject you find ever so painfully "delusional" in the first place is your attraction to a character who would be fully capable of wringing your neck if they existed.

The casual usage of these words makes it seem like OCD isn't as serious of a condition, and that delusions aren't stressful or perplexing at all to whoever suffers from them. If you're doing this shit, you either don't understand what these experiences are or don't give a shit, and if the latter is the case, go have a seat over there you asshole.

Stop FUCKING using terms meant to describe symptoms or experiences of mental illness for your semblance of "fun" and convenience when any other word not tied to this subject matter will work just fine.

You don't have OCD, you just have a pet peeve. You're not experiencing a delusion, you're just horny and/or feeling intensely for a character and you want to express that in an "over the top" manner.

This character isn't insane, they've been fucking programmed against their will and broken down and reconstructed repeatedly to be a weaponized bitch for the benefit of their abusers. And heck, maybe that kind of torment would drive that character to absolute insanity if broken down past their limits. Under that context you could call Killer insane, but knowing this fandom and all the impulsive fuckheads in it that don't care about people less fortunate than them (or just don't know any better), that mode of thinking won't get far without being twisted so wildly out of context it loses meaning.

And in reality, that has already happened. So FUCK YOU. If this is how you're gonna keep using these words, don't use them at all.

-- Sarco

I really hate when people reduce Something New to “sans went insane and started killing everyone!!!” the only one who uses that type of language is sans/killer himself. Like, he calls himself crazy and insane, aka the mentally ill man known for demonizing himself and encouraging people to treat him badly because he doesn’t trust himself and doesn’t believe anyone else should either.

Every other person in his canon that isn’t also trying to take advantage of his mental state, aka color—dream—swap—all of them are very against the idea that Killer is someone irredeemable or “insane.” Color fiercely refuses to kill Killer even when he asks him to.

Rahafwabas herself has never said Killer was “insane,” and in fact said he isn’t when someone directly asked—he just struggles to tell what is and isn’t real now due to the constant Resetting and induced dissociative state he was put into. Not to mention the heavy fucking gaslighting and manipulation of his entire reality via the damn Reset button.

And frankly I find it very stupid to pretend that what Killer was put through—psychological torture, conditioning, coercion, literally having his code and soul altered, his identity stolen and rebuilt in a way that suits external forces and their desires—would make him a nonviolent uwu baby and claim it’s ableist when a mentally ill character who’s entire trauma is built around the idea of coerced and forced actions—forced perpetration—handles and responds to their trauma in not very fun or cute ways, because what they went through and did was not very fun or cute, or exactly in the context of how they were made to be and exactly how their environment demands they do to survive physically, mentally, and emotionally.

The whole “two personalities”/“split personalities” thing can be argued, but i think people are forgetting that rahafwabas didn’t fucking know English. She never claimed Killer had DID or was a system or any of that—she tried to convey what was happening in a language she was still learning. I find it stupid to blame her for misunderstandings.

[satsuki-yumizuka]

having self control sucks. i want to be very blunt with people but then i stop and think "wow. this is not how people talk. i need to relax"

[perilegs]

i pass pretty much all the time but hm. ive heard interesting stuff from drunk ppl i know who dont know im trans

[kavehater]

thoughts utc :

It’s a little weird to me that some people want others who are the complete opposite to them because to me at least since as long as I can remember the things I wanted from others I would emulate it within myself, I would meticulously work to be the best version that in my eyes a human can be. Like if I was attracted to intelligence and I am, then I would work incredibly hard to be intelligent. If I was attracted to emotional maturity and sensitivity then I would literally ensure I am exactly those things, to the best of my ability of course. And while I am not perfect and I do hate fundamental things about myself, which were forced upon me to hate, not that I hate those qualities that I tried to perfect into myself, the essence of what I’m trying to emulate remains.

It’s interested me that people wish for someone their exact opposite, if that’s the case, change is very much free, why not be what you wish for a partner or friend to be like ? It’s confusing because the issue I’ve had for so long is that why does nobody notice the little things I do the ones I meticulously pedantically plan to do for a very explicit precise reason. It’s annoying. It’s so infuriating in fact. Sometimes I wish I could just grab the person and sit them down and just explain exactly why every single action I do is purposeful and intended. Why every single word and I do not even joke here or over exaggerate. Every single word I say has a meaning even silly ones like the or and or whatnot. They are filtered and selected with care because sometimes even tho the other might not recognise that a simple word like that could change the tone a little I do use the most preferable one possible. But nobody notices that. It’s annoying. Not because I care too much but because I feel unappreciated. Truthfully I don’t think anyone realises how much I care how much I invest etc. ik lots of people say they’re a yearner they care they’re pedantic but I swear to god none of you are like this whatsoever. No one. And if I find someone like this you bet I’m gonna propose to them asap 😭🙏 it’s like being surrounded by people who haven’t gained consciousness. Like they’re living in their own stupid bubble. It’s so annoying ugh. And when ppl think I missed a cue no the fuck I did not. That too is purposeful. It’s to teach said person to stfu or rethink or it’s meant to be a moment of repercussion for their actions. I am very much for justice and fairness so if I feel someone is being an imbecile with me you bet I’ll discretely try to put them in their place all the while acting silly and like I dunno anything. Or laughing about things or acting confused. Because yall suck hard and are lowkey a little stupid. Scratch that not a little but a LOT.

That is why I absolutely go insane when someone tries to rebut me or refute any argument I put out. It’s like wtf did you just tell me. Like do you even know how much prep and logic and reason and meaning goes into what I say and do ? While you pea brain just spout things out of your ass ✋😭 literally stfu do NAWT speak to me with your stupidity rn I literally explode (in my head) all the while trying to keep composure and act very nice and caring etc. it’s so NDIWKSKSK cause why are ppl so stupid. Why are they insufferable and dumb. Literally why like I thought humans were meant to be smart but it’s like I’m talking to someone who came out half baked and deformed. Or they were dropped as a child. JDIWWKAKAOQK

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw (Here) | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits You Steal

Sleep like the Dead (Inherited): Nothing wakes you anymore. Leona is as "selfish" as they come, and has no regard for your schedule. He doesn't feel remorse for soaking up your time in the slightest. Why should he? Other people do it for 90% of the day. Take a load off, the bags under your eyes are unsightly. If he doesn't want to wake up in the morning? You ain't either. It's a done deal. If the building isn't up in flames then don't bother asking. Evidently, prolonged and frequent daytime siestas take their toll on your circadian rhythm. You now need just as - if not more - sleep than Leona. Napping out in public and at the rowdy Savanaclaw Dorm bestowed upon you a disturbance immunity. Ramshackle could be in the middle of a raid and you wouldn't move. Not unless something singed your skin or really did some damage. It's become an actual problem. Crewel is considering a sleep study.

"Oi, herbivore...stop squirming so much. You almost crushed my tail. Hah? Class? You don't need it. Just borrow notes from one of those little friends or make the cat go....fine. Gimmie your homework later. I can teach you a thing or two. That is, if you can handle it." <- Grim can't be trusted on his own? Not Leona's problem. You're half of a student. Half. Not full. Half. There's your loophole now go back to sleep. Yap any more and he'll roll on top of you. Good luck talking with a mouth full of hair.

Perfume (Developed): This comes about in an awkward manner. Beastmen have keen smell. It's a given. Bada bing, bada boom, Leona knows your scent. He could point out the Ramshackle Prefect from a half-mile radius. Now he's never said your scent is unpleasant. Quite the contrary, although the lion would never admit it. The issue here is that your scent acts as a calling card, and Leona is clingy. So you ask Vil for the most popular perfume, potion, cologne - whatever - and start wearing it to mask your scent. At least enough so Leona's de-buffed to a one-fourth mile radius. It doesn't work entirely. No perfume is that strong. It's also an active assault on Leona's nose...but it had to be done. Side note - this was his plan all along. He isn't keen on non-human folk sniffing you out easily. Beastmen, most Mermen, and even select Fae have keen noses. Not that his own scent isn't a deterrent, but some masking perfume is worth the occasional nose-shank if it keeps snickering busybodies off your tail when he isn't around.

"Here. Take this and throw out whatever crap it is you've got on. You want me to say it flat? You reek." <- Take the scent masking balm he's giving and don't shop retail ever again. His nose hairs are literally burning off. The balm costs more than your entire dorm to make, but Leona won't ever admit it. You have an ultimatum. It's either this, or wearing one of his old vests around Savanaclaw. Now unless you want to be twinning with him and Ruggie, do the man a favor and comply.

Hair Ties (Developed): Bless his genetics for that wonderful, silky mane - but he needs to tame it. With how smothering Leona can be, you end up with a mouthful of hair at least twice a day. Man is tall, and he loves using his prefect as a leaning post. Which is cute but he sheds. So your arm is perpetually wrapped with hair-ties 24/7 like a cased sausage, because every time you give him one it disappears. It's on purpose, of course. He also snaps them whenever you aren't paying attention. Spiteful bas-

Biting (Inherited): Biting is a common display of affection in beastfolk culture. Not that Leona ever bothered to tell you this. His little nips (in no small amount) were usually passed off as punishments for being annoying. A lie, naturally. One could say it’s the human equivalent of cute aggression? Yet it has more meaning since it’s reserved for close connections such as family and lover. Although drawing blood or leaving a mark behind is reserved for the latter. You had to learn all this from a textbook, of course. No one in Savanaclaw was going to butt into Leona’s affairs, and Ruggie found your ignorance a funny game to taunt his Housewarden with. You were on your own, on a quest to save your skin. Literally.

Regardless, it’s Leona’s way of affection. Bonus points since he can do it without you knowing why. It’s only natural that you return the favor, playing along whenever he has to hold composure. Acting as if you don’t know and relishing in his micro- reactions. It’s only a matter of time before he figures you out, but it’s so nice to have the upper hand for once.

"That's for showin' up late. Don't like it? Not my problem...yawn if is' so bad, just take my bandanna...Why do you care if it's got Savana colors? Ya spend enough time 'round here, no one's gonna say anything." <- If it really bothered you, he'd stop. King of consent and of reading body language. Otherwise it's a go-go. Also if someone did have a problem with you sporting Savanaclaw colors? He doesn't need to kick their ass. Beastfolk got better hearing than most, and if one of his overhears you getting shit for wearing their dorm's colors then the classic night raven pride will pop out.

Habits He Steals:

Vegetables (Inherited): Leona sticks to meat, cheese, bread, and more meat. Bring on the steak. Bring on the beef. Bring on the deluxe cutlet sandwiches. Savanaclaw's kitchen is the most costly of all the dorms purely for how much Beastmen eat. If Ruggie can guzzle down seven plates in a sitting yet still look like a stick? Imagine a Lion's appetite. No one knows how you managed to get this guy to eat a salad like a true herbivore, but it's a cold day in the Savanaclaw dormitory when Leona's facing down a spinach side-salad on top of his lunch. Meanwhile you're happily munching away at the table, picking random veggies off your own plate to put on his. Each instance accompanied by an agitated twitch of his tale, but the lion's eerily silent. Dire Crowley is right. The Ramshackle Prefect is a Beast Tamer indeed...

"Now I know you didn't just pick at my plate, herbivore. Your luck's running thin...Oi. That's enough. I'll sooner eat one of your limbs than another turnip" <- he, in fact, did eat the turnip. The threat scared his underclassmen so much, that seeing you come around still in one piece the next day earned you a warrior's respect.

Correspondence (Developed): Leona's used to getting a sea of letters from ministers, attendants, and a particular little menace back at the palace. Unless it was an urgent message - he'd let the letters go unchecked after skimming them. Replying always took too much effort, and he'd rather not encourage unexpected visits like during the annual Magiift tournament. That is until you start receiving them as well. Nowhere near the amount Leona deals with - but he'd rather die than have his family telling you things without the ability to intercept. Falena blackmails him into responding to Cheka's letters, or else the little furball is going to use you as a penpal for writing practice. Side Note 2.0 - regardless of Leona's 'cooperative' ways, you still write to the mini lion in 'secret'. He knows but gave up caring.

"Another one? Just toss the damn thing. No - hmph. Give me that. I'll respond, just don't start up the lecture." <- You always manage to find the letters Cheka sends over before Leona can get to them. It clicks that you're a middle-man once they start showing up at Ramshackle instead of his dorm. Leona can't wait too long to respond, otherwise you'll start harping him over how cute the kid's handwriting is or whatever picture he drew. He lets you keep them. Cheka's got his own exhibit on the Ramshackle fridge.

Accommodating (Developed): Leona’s not necessarily a ‘verbal’ communicator, despite his smart mouth that always manages to get the last word. He will not openly lend his aid without a bit of pressing before hand - his pride would never allow it. Take the three days you and Grim stayed in his dorm as an example. Inevitably you earned the right to crash in his room, but there was a roundabout to get there. Mainly for show, since in Savanaclaw things are earned not given. You also weren’t close back then. He wouldn’t go easy on anyone, even if they’re from a different dorm or stranded homeless by some octopunks.

The tides change for you, and only for you. His morals are held high, and his ability to treat a partner well is no exception. There is no glory in being above your supposed equal. Everything is shared. This means Leona’s room is now your room, just as Ramshackle is now partly his. He’s clearing some of his closet out, filling it with your stuff, and doing the same back at your place. Doesn’t even ask and doesn’t give a damn that there are dozens of open rooms. It’s the principle. Sharing a space is letting someone see your most vulnerable being. Not that he’d think you could ever do any significant damage (lies) - but considering he doesn’t want anyone within a five foot radius during his leisure time, Leona giving you open access speaks volumes.

"Hah? So what? It's not like I'm forcin' them into it. Got a problem with how I act? Enlighten me." == Talk about nonchalont. Leona is well aware of the imprint he's left on you. He sees it in the way you talk. The way you think. Not just in the chess matches he makes you sit through over and over. Round after round until you can put him into check. You're confident. You're demanding. You're ripe potential that he got to first before anyone else. You chose him, and no amount of backtalk on your end outshines that you like him enough to mimic his ways. The Ramshackle Prefect’s presence isn't something people can overlook anymore, and Leona is damn proud that he's left a mark.

Habits You Steal:

Extreme Couponing/Haggling (Inherited): If you do not think Ruggie spends his Sunday mornings going through sales ads? You are sorely mistaken. This man is an absolute menace when it comes to hitting the market and squeezing a shop-keep for everything they are worth. Sam fears no creature in all of Twisted Wonderland aside from this particular hyena. Screw fighting blot - grab some popcorn and kick back to observe the game of verbal chess those two engage in every week. It's more entertaining than any battle or show. You will become Ruggie's apprentice. Ain't no partner of his going through life without the ability to haggle. Sam stands no chance.

“Ya get this week’s ad? Good. C’mon over and we’ll get the clippings going. I think I saw somethin’ about a buy-one get-two on those candies ya like. Maybe if your nice enough, I’ll shmooze Sam for a bonus!” <- Ruggie honestly enjoys having a coupon buddy. He makes a show about how you take too long, and that if you don’t wake up early then he won’t stick around! Can’t miss the sale, so he isn’t lying there. Except he does grab what you need on the off chance you do miss the meetup. Side note - he doesn’t just take an apprentice without ulterior motives. This is all in preparation for you to handle the slum markets. If you can’t fight off a few broke students, then you won’t last a day back home.

"Shishishishi" (Inherited): There is no escaping it. For the countless times you've poked fun at his little wheezy laugh - imagine the utter mortification when it came not from him! No no. From you. It's unconscious and in the moment you don't recognize anything wrong. You were only laughing over a won victory against Sam. That new lamp you wanted for your work-desk finally within reach, and 70% off no less! Said conman looks at you with eyes blown wide, because great seven there are two of them now. It takes a moment for self-awareness to hit, but you're too late. Two fuzzy-satellites atop a mop of shaggy blonde curls perk up, and your laugh from before echoes from the original culprit's mouth.

“I heard that! You’re doin’ it wrong. Gotta put more air, Shishishi~” <- Ruggie’s a taunting little turd on a good day. Be prepared. You won’t be living this down. Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it? Next thing is to train ya in the art of sticky fingers - no? Ugh. Fine. Ya Goodie-Goodie.

Hands Up! (Inherited): Ruggie has a very unique way of standing. Hands behind his head, laced together to support his neck. One hip normally supports most of his weight, and he's always in a deep-slouch. Bro doesn’t need to cast ‘Laugh With Me’ for his movements to be mirrored, because you’re already following along without realizing. Leona finds the mimicry unsettling. Take that freaky shit out of his line of sight.

Habits He Steals:

Sharing Food (Developed): This is the inner hyena coming out. Just like in the slums, it's demanded to share amongst your own. He might be a sleaze to other people, but not to you. This also backfires into Ruggie thinking that what's yours is his as well - but that's not the point. He'll plop down next to you at dinner and wordlessly offer up half of his meal. You need more meat on those bones, he'll say if protested. In turn he'll then take half of your dessert. It's a sign of trust, instinctively believing that whatever's on your plate is safe to eat. Yet also shows that he's taken you as one of his - and that's a privilege no one at NRC has. No strings attached because everything you both have is shared. On a side note, you'll never be-rid of Ruggie once this comes to pass.

Shared Wardrobe (Developed): Again with the collective treasure hoard, but with a twist. Ruggie can essentially squeeze into most clothing or modify them to his needs. If it works, then it works. So he'll happily offer up any modified dregs he has for your usage, and in turn he will claim whatever clothes you aren't overly attached to. There is also the matter of scent, of course. Ruggie is the type of person to cut up one of your old pajama shirts and fashion arm-bands, making sure to have one knotted around his bicep at all times. You in turn are welcome to swipe his bandanna at your leisure in place of that tacky uniform tie.

“Hey…you seen my blaz - hah? Uh, nevermind. I’ll go grab somethin’ else. Where’d ya leave the heavier coat Gran sent over. Forget it, I’ll just go check myself” <- The first time you snag one of his oversized blazers or hoodies gets him. It gets him bad. Sharing with Leona was one thing but, c'mon. Warn a guy would ya? You're so lucky he's an opportunist on quick feet, so of course he’ll take the chance to steal something you wear often. Ruggie’s great at brushing off any taunts or quips. Being Leona’s right hand gets him stable back at Savanclaw, but that doesn’t take away years of being the underdog. Whether the other beastfolk stare at him openly brandishing your clothes means little, if anything, he enjoys it. Cause once again the underdog’s got a top prize.

Caffeine Addiction (Inherited): Ruggie spends more time and effort running around than most. His *hobby* is doing part-time work. Those overpriced sugar-loaded drinks never appealed to him because why waste money when powering through is just as effective? Or chugging some ice water? Yet you seemingly always have some sort of caffeine to make it through the hell NRC dishes out, and Ruggie being a mooch is always there to steal at least 1/3 of it. Now he’s trained and gets extremely sluggish around mid-day without a dose. It’s your fault if he falls off his broom during spelldrive practice.

"Wha'cha trying to say with that tone, huh? Think I'm not good enough? 's that it? There're way worse chumps to take after. Way I see it? They're learnin' how to make it in this world, sha ha ah! So thanks!...eh, why're you still here? Shoo already." == Considering rumors never have anything good to say about Ruggie's attitude, he's not dumb enough to take the little 'compliment' as genuine. More like as a backhanded sight towards your relationship. Rugs could care less about what those nobodies have to say. Not like they've got anything he's after, just some busybodies that scurry off with their tail between their legs when things get rough. Even if you catch word of it, Ruggie ain't going to get pissy because they're right. Everything they're saying is right, he is rubbing off on you. He is actively trying to. Life isn't a peach and it's not like he's strong enough to protect you from the hardships. It'll be a big laugh if you pull that righteous crap and try to defend his honor, though. Someone better get it on camera.

Habits You Steal:

Paternal Disappointment (Inherited): There was a time, a simpler time, a Jack-less time...when you were a fool. No. You are one to this day, but it is better tamed under Jack's strict aura of perpetual disappointment. Once on the side of being scolded with Ace and Deuce, you are now the one doing the scolding. You are not fun anymore. There is a stick shoved so far up your ass, and it's now part of your internal organ system. Ace dubs you a traitor, as does Grim. You've gone to the dark side in exchange for the morally sound wolfboy to offer cuddles and the occasional snack. I'm sorry to tell you this dear prefect but you've become....*gasp* the (mom/dad) friend.

“Boring? Who said you were boring?…don’t listen to those jerks. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. They’re just upset that they can’t get away with murder anymore - Uh, not t-that I was jealous or anything! Don't get the wrong idea! . Hmph.” <- Jack doesn’t take offense when others call him names, but he doesn’t like when you’re brought into it. At all. Especially because he used to be jealous how you, Ace, Grim and Deuce were more tight-knit than with any of the other first years. Like a pack. That behavior is childish, and Jack hates that he used to think that way. As if your attention was something he had to fight over. It's not like he wanted the same bond you shared with those three either, that's friendship and he wanted more. By being with you, Jack knew that it was going to put him on a different tier than the others. That's just what happens. Part of him feels guilty that you might be losing face because of him. His reputation isn’t bad, but he does have a resting angry face. Reassure him in turn and Jack will be over the moon. Any happier and his wagging tail can become a makeshift duster for the dorm (Were he on earth, he’d definitely get the nickname ‘tails’. After the sonic character, just to clarify)

Meal Prep (Inherited): This is actually an amazing influence and is wonderful for someone on a tight-schedule. You're not going to be eating high-protein meals every night, neither wasting away in an attempt to chug down pre-workout shakes. That's on Jack and Jack alone. Helping him prep meals is a nice touch and a pleasant evening spent together once a week. You don't become strict with it, but Jack does convince you to at least prepare some of your favorite dishes as snacks/emergency meals. He also constantly shoves energy water and vitamins in your bag. No more cup-noodle or scrap sandwiches on those nights you don't reach the mess hall on time. Now you have balanced meals, and get to flaunt matching containers with your boyfriend. Very cute. Everyone hates both of you.

"Uh...are all those stickers really necessary? I know we agreed on matching boxes but this is a bit...No! I'm not embarrassed! Gah, just keep it to a minimum. Nothing that falls off or sparkles." <- He is flustered beyond compare after every track meet. At first he barely bat an eye, thinking nothing of the orange bento box with chibi-cactus stickers and his name written in bold bubble lettering on top. You decorated it just for him, and if it meant you would carry around a spare meal then that's even more incentive. Yet the smell of fresh food attracts jocks after a meet like nothing else, and the teasing was relentless. It isn't enough to stop him from enjoying his meal, though.

Lint Roller (Developed): Leona sheds, but Jack? He is like owning six full-grown huskies. He apologizes profusely for the shedding, especially since the NRC uniforms are black. You run through lint rollers like Deuce runs through eggs. It isn't Jack's fault, but man. Ramshackle collects both dust and fur bunnies these days.

Habits He Steals:

Piggy-Back(Developed):Jack carries you everywhere. He's normally very patient but when there's a place to be? Well, he wants to get there on time. Jack has a strict bedtime at 10:00pm sharp and so his free hours are scarce. Do you want enough time to enjoy the lakeside as planned? If so, hop on his back so no time is wasted. Jack also pressures you to join him for morning and evening jogs. He refuses to give up his diligence, but also is acutely aware that there is little spare time he can afford you during the week. Either you have to keep up with him, or you're getting used as a makeshift weight and being hauled across campus. Relationships need quality time to grow and this is the perfect excuse to hog your attention for two hours every day. Not that he'd admit it, but the swish of his tail while you chat is enough to tell Jack's enjoying his runs much more than before.

"Are you comfortable? Just let me know if I'm going too quick. I'll try not to jostle you around too much...if you're tired then take a nap. I'll wake you when we're back home." <- He'd prefer if you didn't sleep. It messes with your circadian rhythm, but the whole point of this is to help you relax. Just knowing you're with him is enough to make Jack happy. Rain or shine, no excuses. If it's cold he'll let you use his hair to block out the chill, although he'd never let you out in anything less than the proper gear. Even if he joins Deuce or Vil on occasion - you're his favorite running partner.

Safety (Developed): Jack asks you to text him twice a day. Once in-between class, even though you’ll be spending lunch together, and once before bed at 9:30pm. The morning isn’t needed since he’s your alarm clock. He understands that as a prefect, you don’t have a curfew like the majority of students. Yet he is communicative with concerns about you being outside of Ramshackle late after dark. Even when you were just friends, hearing the story of when A-Deuce hauled you to that abandoned mine in the middle of the night? The blot monster and how close it came to you guys not making it? Magic or not, that would worry anyone with common sense. It doesn’t help that Ramshackle has no security beyond its resident ghosts.

"- and you just went with them? Because the headmaster told you to? Are you insane!?...No. You're right. What's done is done. Just...call me if something like that ever happens again." <- Thank the seven Jack's hair is already white.

Jack never thought he’d care this much about anyone. When your partner is a walking heart-attack, in the best way possible mind you, one just wants some piece of mind.

Covering Ears (Inherited): It's a natural response to cover your ears when frightened. Like when watching a scary movie and you don't want to hear what comes next. Jack covers his ears because they're sensitive, and loud noises can cause a migraine quicker than anything else. Especially when they're sudden. His hearing is more sensitive than most, being a wolf beastman. It's almost on par with Leona's. Yet his first instinct when there is a loud noise is to cover your ears instead of his. Even though you're human, the instinct to protect them takes over. It's also his way of being within arm's reach in case of a threat. You must be scared being in a new place. Jack will never let himself forget that. Nor how brave you are for continuing on regardless.

"What a relief...huh? Nah, I didn't say anything. Isn't there a test coming up in Alchemy next week? Want to hit the books together?" == The type to divert the topic as quick as possible, on the chance that he lets too much slip. Needless to say that Jack is relieved to hear that you're mimicking him on an unconscious level. It means that you trust him. That you respect him and see him as an equal. It's the biggest compliment Jack can ever ask for. If people are automatically associating you together, then it means he's done his job. You're part of his pack - and outsiders can recognize it at first glance. He'll do a good job at hiding how happy it made him, but expect that tail to wag at torpedo speed the next time he sees you.

[toothfa-1-ry]

OUR CAFE IN JEJU

You and Dae ho plan to open a cafe in jeju after you both leave the games

GENRE: Angst

PAIRING: Kang Dae ho x gn!reader

It's night time, or atleast you guess it was as you sit awake, your eyes slowly drifting to all the people who slept blissfully, as if though they all didn't just witness multiple killings

The sight almost disgusted you,

Almost

Gi hun, or no. 456, the man who oddly reminded you of your father, decided that everyone should take turns watching over your group as you all slept

Currently, it was your turn,

you find yourself leaning against the cold steel railing of the bed, your feet swinging softly going along with your steady breath

You don't mind the silence, it was a good break from the constant chaos, you didnt mean only in the games but also from real life

You always did prefer the silence anyways

"Oh y/n" followed by a stretched yawn, you watch as Dae ho sleepily crawled out from underneath the bed

"It's my turn now to watch over" he says despite his eyes still being closed shut and his speech languoress "you should get some rest"

A soft smile etched your face unconsciously upon seeing his drowsy state

You swear, you almost found the very sight cute

You shake your head softly "It's alright, i don't mind staying awake. I doubt I'd get any sleep anyway. You should rest"

Dae ho's eyebrows knitted upon hearing your words, immediately waking him up from his drowsiness

"Then I guess we'll both be staying awake" he props himself next to you, his signature grin on his face

This time your the one frowning, sighing as you insist the brawny man "Dae ho, seriously it's fine, you look sleepily anyway"

But this just seemed to make him even more stubborn as he shook his head, pieces of his long hair moving along with his head causing you to laugh softly, your hand covering your mouth

Dae ho lazily smiles back at you before the both of you nestle in the silence that surrounded the entire room

"You were amazing in today's game, i feel like i haven't mentioned it enough" you nudge his shoulder as you say, choosing to be the one ro break the silence

You half expect him to tell you that it's because hes a marine and marines can do everything but instead you find him with an uncharacteristic shy smile on his face

"I just played the game alot with my older sisters" he admitted in a rather bashfull manner

You nodd your head "you guys must be really close then?"

Dae ho nodds back without much comment, you take it as a sign that he might not like talking about them much

"Sorry" he awkwardly laughs "i know I'm usually not like this"

You raise your eyebrow

"I mean" he pauses before rubbing the back of his neck, you quickly note the way his t shirt sleeve pushed back, showing his arm muscle "im usually talkative and all. I usually don't like the silence but i guess i dont mind it when I'm with you"

You bite back the warmth that attempts to streak your face as you let out a soft hum

"I know you don't like talking alot" Dae ho says as he quickly takes a peek at your face "I've noticed that you keep to yourself most of the time"

He awkwardly chuckles, looking down "maybe you don't enjoy talking that much-"

"No-" your voice interrupts him, startling both you and him with your sudden interjection

Immediately his posture straightens as he whips his head towards you, his eyes locking into yours, almost desperate to hear what you have to say

"I don't mind" the words unwittingly tumble out your mouth before you could stop yourself

You notice Dae Ho's intense gaze which noted was unusualof him, his eyes fixated on you as he hangs on to your every word

Your clear your throat "I don't mind it too" you whisper softly "talking I mean"

Dae ho blinks, once, twice, before he shakes his head lightly as if though he was in a trance

"Right. Talking" he repeats your words while still rapidly blinking

You internally curse yourself, why do you always have to say things the wrong way?

"Yea..." your voice trails off and once again the both of you were surrounded by odd tranquility

You take a glance at Dae ho, his eyes up at the piggy bank of money that hanged on the ceiling. Your eyes follow his as you stare along at the stacks of paper

"What are you gonna do after all of this is over?" You whispered out of the silence to him

Dae ho realized you saw him staring at the money, before briefly looking back at you and then the money

"Pay off all my debts I guess" he said with a tight lipped smile

"No I mean" you tilt your head towards him "after that. I'm pretty sure your gonna have some money left"

Dae ho leaned behind as he wondered outloud "uhm"

He clicks tongue when he gets his answer "that's right! I've always wanted to open a cafe"

"A cafe?" You ask puzzled, that wasn't something you'd expect from a ex marine, that too someone like Dae ho

"that's right! In jeju" his eyes sparkled as he grinned ear to ear, speaking excitedly

"oh" He turns to you "and what about you? After paying your debts. What do you want to do?"

You think thoughtfully before you contemplate your answer

"I guess i wanna start my life over, maybe somewhere in an island"

Dae ho grins brightly when he hears your words "Hey! You should come with me then"

"What?" You ask slightly taken back at his sudden invite, you didnt think he considered you to be close enough for him to invite you to join him after all this was over

"Yea it's the perfect plan !!, you wanna start your life over in an island and i want a cafe in Jeju. Well isn't jeju a island? And the best one too!!"

You almost want to laugh at his childish demeanour but you don't, instead your grin matches his as you watch him continue

"Think about it, i'll open a cafe in jeju and you can help me run it"

"Can we adopt a pet dog?" You meekly ask

Dae ho's eyes widened as if though the very fact that you had to ask him made him feel offended "ah ofcourse!" His voice boisterous which caused you to shush him

"Sorry!" He whispers while turning over to look at the people sleeping, checking if anyone awoke.

You lean in towards him as he whispers "I mean- ofcourse. We can adopt as many dogs as you want"

"I guess I'll have to start picking names from now" you quip which made him beam

"Alright! It's settled then" he points at you "you, me, and our adopted dogs will open a cafe in jeju together. You can manage the cafe and I'll make coffee for our customers"

You watch as he smiles and talk animatically, suddenly feeling downcast, you can't help it when a feeling of dejection befalls your face.

You hope that Dae Ho doesn't notice but the look on his face says otherwise as he softens his voice "Hey, are you okay? Did I go to far?"

"No, you didnt" you say with a wistful smile "It's just, we don't know what's gonna happen next. I dont know whether I'll survive the next game or not"

You hear Dae Ho take in a deep breath before releasing a deep sigh "I guess you have a point there too"

"Sorry" you feel the urge to apologise "I ruined the mood-"

But Dae Ho intervenes your apology, he won't have you saying sorry, not to him

"I guess that just gives you more reason to stick around me huh?" He says playfully, he nudges your shoulder with his signature grin on his face "i'll make sure we get out of here together no matter what"

You snort, an attempt to hide your amusement but he catches on. He always did when it came to you

"Hey seriously!" he puts his hand in his chest when he begins reciting in a loud voice "I, Kang Dae Ho promise to take y/n l/n to jeju and open a cafe together"

You cover his mouth with your hand amidst your quiet giggles "people are sleeping silly" you scold him, despite your light tone and the smile on your face

Dae ho shuts up, but the twinkle in his eyes says otherwise

"Y/n" he whispers as he sticks out his pinky finger towards you "Promise me too"

"Promise you?"

"Promise me that when we get out of here, we'll both restart out lives in jeju"

You interlock your pinky with his, he noticed the spark in your eye

"And you'll open a cafe in jeju" you continue

Dae Ho's face lit up even more than before "and we'll adopt three dogs- no five dogs!"

He corrects himself while you stifle in your laughter

"I promise to help you run it" your voice soft and warm as both of your pinkies layed interlocked with one another

"Promise"

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

The child's voice plays over the speaker as it sings the same song over again and again,

you've lost count for how many rounds this game has been going on, feeling dizzy on the spinning carousel as you feel Dae ho's tight grip on your wrist.

"Just one more time y/n" he insist to you over the blaring sound of the childish song "just one more time and this game would be over"

You nodd, unable to say anything as you sweat profusely, your heart beating rapidly

Dae ho takes in your silence as your answer as he gives you a quick nodd, turning over to look at gi hun and song il, letting go of your hand for a moment

Suddenly the carousel stops to a halt, you find yourself falling down harshly before you could even realise that it stopped

A feminine voice declares a number but your unable to coin what it was as your layed on the ground, only being able to hear the sound of people running and screaming

Dae ho looks around frantically, eyes widened when he realised your not next to him

"Y/n?" He mutters at first before he began shouting your name like a mad man

You scream his name too, but with no avail, as a hysterical crowd of people separated the both of you

Dae ho's eyes widen as his brows lift, he breaks away from jeong bae's grasp as he runs away from his team, searching for you in amidst the chaos

He doesn't realise the way his trembles or the way he stutters when he shouts your name, all he wants right now was you to be back at his side

He should have never let go of your hand

He runs around the room as he belts out your name as loud as he can, pushing people away, shouting at them while he asked whether they saw you or not

Suddenly he finds himself being pulled back by Young ill and Jeong Bae

"Wait! Wait! stop!" He screamed against their hold, thrashing and moving "y/n! They're still out there!" He hysterically screamed

Young ill gripped the younger man tightly as Jeong Bae pushed him into a room

"Time is running out, the count down has begun" jeong Bae attempts to appease to his junior who refuses to listen "im sure they'll be safe with others"

But there was an unexplainable feeling in the pits of Dae ho's stomach that says other wise. Every single cell in his body screamed at him, telling him that you weren't safe

He promised to be always by your side didn't he?

"Hyung please" he mumbled his words rapidly while clutching the arms of the two other men who held him back "hyung please! Let me go! let me go i need to find-"

Jeong Bae and Young ill push him into a room despite his refusal to enter, opposing his wishes

"Stop! Stop don't close the door" Dae ho pushes Young ill away from the door as he prys to keep it open "they're still out there-" he splutters

Young ill grabs Dae ho by the neck, putting him in a headlock while dragging him away from the door, urging jeong Bae to shut it

"The room is full" he mutters under his breath into Dae hos ear "do want all of us to die?'

"No! You dont understand" Dae ho splutters against the older man's hold, not paying attention to his words at all

"no let me go, i need y/n, i told them" Dae ho begs, his face getting red "I told them I'll protect them"

His breathing becomes more shallow and rapid when he hears the lock of the door, finally prying away from young ills grasp

He shakes his head as he tries opening the door which simply stood unmoving against his force

"No no no" he repeatedly muttered "no y/n" his sweaty palms trying to pull open the steel door while all the other two men in the room could do was look bleakly at him

"Dae ho... I'm sure they'll be safe wit-" jeong Bae words are cut short by a familiar defeaning shriek which causes Dae ho's face to pale

"Dae ho!" You scream his name as you pass by all the closed rooms, searching for him

Dae ho shouts your name back through the small hole in the door, exerting more force on trying to open the door

You press yourself to the door of the room Dae ho was in, only seeing his widened eyes

"Y/n! Y/n!" He shouted repeatedly while banging the door "Fuck the door isn't opening! Why won't the door open" he wailed while hitting the door

You whisper his name in between hiccups, your eyes filled with water as you watched him pry to open the door

"Please y/n" Dae ho sobbs "please" his breath shallow

You shake your head against the cold door "im sorry"

"Y/n?" Dae ho watches you horrified

"I'm so sorry Dae ho" you breathed out "I don't think I can come to jeju with you"

A loud bang, followed by even more shouting and screaming and more shooting could be heard

Dae ho watched as your eyes once which looked at him with joy was now lifeless and empty, he hears your body thud on the floor, he falls down along with you, body pressing to the door

Now, only the steel door being in the path of both of your bodies from being once again reunited

"Dae ho" you whisper from the other side of the door while he hears you take your last breath

"I would have loved opening a cafe with you in jeju"

[lovelivision]

BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)

Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.

Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.

Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.

You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.

“I’m hurt you know.”

The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.

You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”

He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”

Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”

“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”

Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”

“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.

You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”

So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.

Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”

“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”

“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.

Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.

Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.

You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.

Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”

Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”

Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”

“…Correct.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.

Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.

His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”

“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.

“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”

Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”

“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”

“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”

You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”

“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.

Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”

He thinks on it for a second, “No.”

Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”

“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.

“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.

His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”

You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.

★

After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.

However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.

It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.

For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”

You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.

Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”

He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”

Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”

He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”

She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.

The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.

He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”

You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”

“–Satoru.”

The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”

You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”

“You okay?” He checks.

You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”

His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.

You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.

When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.

Turning your head to the side, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.

You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”

He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.

Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.

Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”

Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”

When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”

“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.

Humming out a, “Yes and–”

Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”

I know but­–”

“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.

Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.

“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.

He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”

“I don’t think it should, especially since–”

“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.

“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”

“Oh…” He feels bad now.

“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”

Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”

“Stop dating?”

Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”

Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”

He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”

You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”

“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.

Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”

“Says you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”

His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”

“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.

So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”

He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”

How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”

“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”

The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”

He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”

Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”

“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.

Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.

He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”

You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”

You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.

Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”

“Like what?” He plays dumb.

“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.

“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.

He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”

Humming at you, “Why not?”

“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.

He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”

You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.

One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.

Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.

If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.

It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.

Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”

You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”

When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.

“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Hmm? Okay what?”

Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”

“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.

“Okay,” agreeing easily.

He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”

Again, agreeing, “Okay.”

“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.

“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”

“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”

Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.

Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”

You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”

His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”

Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”

He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.

Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.

“You need to stop kissing me.”

“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”

His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”

He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.

“Shuddup.”

His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”

He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”

“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”

“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.

“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.

Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”

“What?”

He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”

“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t even planned.”

“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.

Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”

“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.

You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.

He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.

His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.

Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.

Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.

You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”

Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.

He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.

“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.

He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”

Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”

Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.

You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.

When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.

“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.

The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”

You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.

“Gojo, breathe.”

“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”

Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.

“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.

You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”

You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.

Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”

The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.

“Gojo, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.

Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”

He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”

He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”

Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”

You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.

“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.

“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?

Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”

Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”

“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.

He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.

“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.

“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”

God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”

“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”

He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.

Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”

Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”

“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”

Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”

He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”

You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.

He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.

Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”

“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.

Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”

You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.

“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.

Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.

He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”

You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.

“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”

You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.

He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.

“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.

He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.

Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.

Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”

You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”

Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”

“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.

“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”

“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.

“…Like it,” you mumble out.

Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”

Repeating, louder, “I like it.”

Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”

“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.

He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.

“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.

You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.

“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.

Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.

Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”

Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.

A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.

He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.

“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.

Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.

“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.

A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.

“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”

You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.

It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.

“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.

His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.

“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”

Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”

“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.

His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”

“You sure–”

Cutting him off, “–Yes.”

Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.

Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”

“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.

Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”

He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.

You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.

Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”

“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.

It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.

Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.

You whine at him over it, “Please.”

Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”

Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.

“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”

You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.

“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”

Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.

He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.

Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”

Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.

“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”

You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.

“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”

“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.

His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.

“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.

He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.

Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”

His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”

You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.

“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”

“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.

He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”

His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”

He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.

“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.

“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.

Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”

Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”

He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.

“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”

“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.

Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.

Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”

Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”

“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.

Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”

You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.

Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.

“Feels– feels good, I–”

“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.

Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.

“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”

Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.

Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.

Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.

Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.

He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”

He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.

Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.

“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.

“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”

You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”

“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”

You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.

𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[mxrcurysb1tch]

🍃🧝‍♀️✧･ﾟ: ⋆♱✮♱⋆astro observations pt. 3 ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ✧･ﾟ: 🧝‍♀️🍃

✰ ⊹₊⟡⋆ Gemini placements can talk for hours about literally anything, especially over text. They always want to be entertained and have someone to share their random thoughts with even if they’re just having a conversation about what they ate for dinner.

✰ ⊹₊⟡⋆ okay this one is PERSONAL and idc. Virgo placements ARE NOT BORING. Just say you don’t understand intellectual humour and wit. But fr, I see a lot of takes on Virgos that are soooo bad even from professional astrologers and it’s a little alarming. Like Virgos don’t exist just to tidy up your life for you and critique you. No. no. no. no just no!!! They have a huge amount of emotional control and objectivity and are skilled at creating beautiful, calm and safe spaces for themselves and everyone around them. If they can be judgemental at times, maybe you should listen, they know a thing or two, ya know? They’re very observant. Also they’re way harder on themselves than they’ll ever be on you.

✰ ⊹₊⟡⋆ Libra placements aren’t liars and they aren’t fake. They’re highly attuned to the social environment and they want to keep everyone happy simply because it stresses them out not to. They could benefit from being a bit more assertive and firm with toxic people thought

✰ ⊹₊⟡⋆ Your sister sign / opposite sign are the qualities you have deep down but might be hard to access or are hidden from you, especially with your moon and rising sign. For example, Capricorn moons are very sensitive and have a huge emotional range just like cancers but they are very reserved about this and it is hard for them to express. Similarly, cancer moons can be very strong willed like a Capricorn. Also it might be that the negative expression of the opposite sign comes out at your worst times. For example, a Pisces moon under distress might display some of the worst traits of Virgo like being judgemental and withdrawn.

✰ ⊹₊⟡⋆ Retrograde planets in the birth chart do not deny, they simply delay or force the native to go about things in a different, sometimes more long-winded but ultimately more fruitful manner. They encourage a person to diverge from the typical way of doing things and to create their own methods, opinions and values instead of unquestioningly following the masses. It makes the native ask “why am I choosing to believe/feel/do this thing without questioning it?” and makes them realise that a choice does in fact exist. It is easier for these people to be original and to have a new, refreshing perspective on life. Unfortunately, less open minded people might not understand them. The sign, planet and house will influence the area of life in which this is most prominent.

✰ ⊹₊⟡⋆ the 9th + 21st degrees are Sagittarius degrees. Having these on the moon can make the native feel at home and emotionally fulfilled while travelling or in a foreign country. These natives are also likely to be drawn to living abroad.