#I suppose no negative side effects is good

[floral-hex]

Day 3 on Auvelity. Don’t really feel much. Nothing positive or negative. Well, except some of my night time anxiety came back. Could be unrelated. Got a gym membership the other day, so I’ve been going at night to work out a little and feel productive… which is where I’m going now, so goodbye forever I love you

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 3 || The Art of Seduction

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, a bit of smut, & sexual tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——"SO WHERE CAN I FIND HIM?" You ask Gojo after a few minutes of continued conversation.

Gojo's now in his sweatpants lying across your bed. He was serious about not going back to Shoko at all and he earned a lovely text from her after he told her he wasn't returning. You managed to sneak a peak a few minutes ago and based on the large paragraph you saw, Shoko definitely cursed Gojo out for ditching her.

"Where can you find him?" Gojo scoffs, his gaze set on your bedroom ceiling. "Sweetheart, what kinda question is that?"

You're glaring at him while you sit beside him, "Uh, a good one? All you did was give me a name and a picture, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

Gojo chuckles, finding your constant annoyance with him nothing short of amusing. "There's something called the internet. A name and a picture are all you need nowadays. Geto Suguru, that's his full name."

"Oh come on, this is all a get?" You say with a tired huff. For a second you're disappointed but before you let your frustrations get to you, you lean toward Gojo and give him an innocent little smile. "Can't you give me a little more than that, like where I can find him in real life and not online like some stalker...?" You ask.

Blue irises shoot over to your nearing frame. His gaze dampens with understanding as he eyes you, "Mmmh... How about I give you his Instagram?" Gojo says almost teasingly.

You shift onto your side a bit, holding up your body with your elbow before inching even closer to him. So close that your breasts press up against his arm. Then, you reach your other arm over and place a hand on his chest, tracing small little shapes on his skin.

Your eyes are almost begging him for more, "Can I get more than that? Please?" You ask, your voice nearly a whine.

Damn the way you make his body twitch because of your pleas. Gojo nibbles on his lower lip and he smirks a bit, "Why should I give you more than that? I'm already paying you to seduce him. Never said I'd help you find him."

You bite back the groan that tries to escape you. Gojo is infuriating but you shove your negative thoughts on him down as you push your body up and suddenly toss a leg over him, straddling him. You take a seat right over his crotch and earn an immediate deep groan from Gojo.

You're only wearing his t-shirt so sitting on top of him leaves one layer of clothing between your bodies. Gojo struggles to control himself with the feeling of your bare warm cunt sitting just above his cock, his sweatpants the only thing in between you two.

A hand is pressed into his abdomen as you lean forward a little, "Satoru," You purr, your tone making his breath hitch ever so slightly. "Just a little more, please?" You utter softly.

He opens his mouth but his response falls off his tongue when you shift your hips and rub over his clothed length. Gojo sighs and turns his head away from you, "Damn you..." He curses, annoyed by the sensual effect you have on him.

You rub yourself in a backward motion while leaning your torso forward to him. "Is that a yes?" You hum.

Gojo rolls his eyes and slowly swivels his head back in your direction, "No." He replies coldly.

You pout and tip your head to the side, rolling your hips over his crotch as if that's supposed to help you convince him. Even though the two of you just had sex and you're a bit too tired to go another round, clearly the only language Gojo understands is one spoken through sensuality.

Another hand slips over his bare chest and you gently press your fingers into his firm abs, his skin tense to your every touch. Your body leans forward some more and you arch your back a little, furthering the friction of your crotch over his.

"Please?" You whisper in the best tone you can to convince him.

Gojo grunts and his head threatens to turn from you again until you move your hand from his abdomen to his chin and pull him back. He doesn't know what kind of effect or hold you have on him but fuck is it working.

"Fuck, alright, alright..." Gojo grumbles, "What do you want? His class schedule?"

You grin, "That and maybe somewhere he usually hangs out. Y'know, so I can approach him in a normal setting and not like some creepy whore..."

The male below you chuckles, "Right. Well uh, Suguru usually-"

"Or," You cut off, rolling your hips over him again. "You can just introduce me to him yourself..."

Gojo takes in a crisp breath of air before moving his hands over your thighs. He tries to hide it but you can clearly tell he's struggling to control himself. It'd be a lie to say the man wasn't having thoughts of you bouncing on his cock right now. He swallows hard and you feel his fingertips press into your skin firmly.

A sudden smile spreads across his face and his eyes drop down to your waist, "Suguru's gonna have a fuckin' field day with you..." Gojo says with a slight scoff. "Y'know what, sure. I'll introduce you to him."

You flash a big thankful smile, "Really?"

"Mhm," Gojo hums deeply, his hands sliding up to your hips.

"Thank you," You say before another thought crosses your mind. "Oh, can you also tell me what kinda things he likes?"

Gojo's eyes are no longer on your face, most of his attention has gone to the way you look and feel on top of him. The hands he has on your hips slip under the shirt you're wearing and his soft skin presses into you.

"What kind of things he likes? Listen, I'm not just gonna sit here and tell you every-" Gojo is cut off by you grinding over him again and you watch him let out a hefty sum of air, almost as if he panted. "Fuck, stop moving so much..." He whispers.

You arch a brow, "Hm? What was that?" You respond playfully even though you hear him clearly.

The look in his eyes is serious, "Stop. Moving." He commands.

"I'm just trying to get comfortable..." You mumble innocently before wiggling into his crotch a little.

Gojo brushes off your comment with another eye roll. "What uh, what'd you want me to tell you again? Things Suguru likes?" He diverts.

A little grin takes over your features as you notice Gojo's being more obedient now. "Mhm, like maybe what kinda clothes or things in a woman he looks for?"

Gojo lifts his hips up a little, pressing himself into you and earning a jolt of tension to scurry up your spine. You ignored his length growing hard before due to your other movements but because he lifts into you, you can't exactly ignore the bulge you feel below you.

"He likes tight clothes on women if I remember correctly. And uh-," You rotate your hips around in a slow circle, and Gojo nearly moans mid-sentence. "Jesus, uhm... Fuck, what the hell was I saying again?"

The way you effectively distract him is amusing, it's what leads you to keep teasing him the way you are. "You were... telling me the things Geto likes. C'mon Satoru, focus." You utter sweetly.

His eyes glide up along your body until he settles on your face. "I don't need to tell you anything else, he'll like you. Trust me." He assures you.

Good enough. Seems like you're not half bad at seducing men. Maybe the problem was you going to find the right ones all along...

However, Gojo is a special case since he claims to have already had the hots for you from months ago. And since he says Geto will like you, you'll take his word for it.

With that, you lean back and relax on top of him. Gojo's eyes are a bit hazy in lust and the lack of friction over his erection is slowly driving him insane. You flinch when you hear the man call your name out in a tone filled with pure desperation, almost high-pitched with a fore-throbbing whine.

"Enough about Suguru," Gojo breathes out, "Finish what you started pretty girl." He requests.

You feign cluelessness, "I didn't start anything though?" You hum, chuckling a little.

That frosty gaze of his is stirring chills to slide down your spine. "Alright," He scoffs, "Slide back a bit then."

You stare for a second before moving, purposefully rolling over him as you move backward. Once you're no longer sitting on his crotch, you watch as Gojo shamelessly moves his hand down to palm himself.

Your lashes flutter in disbelief when he makes direct eye contact with you and pulls his cock out of his sweats. Damn the way your eyes shoot down instantly, your gaze met with an embarrassing leak of precum glazing over his tip.

His hand travels down his throbbing length, moving to relieve himself right in front of you. "Are you..." You blink to see if the sight of Goio stroking his length will disappear. It doesn't. "Are you jerking off? Right in front of me??" You huff.

Gojo smirks and his grip on himself grows tighter, "Fuck... No, I'm not agh-, jerking off in front of you. I'm jerking off to you." He corrects with a slight groan.

"Pervert..." You whisper loosely as your eyes remained glued to his cock.

That was just inside you? It's so... long. You're almost mesmerized by his hand movements, watching Gojo pull up and swirl his thumb over his tip with a very quiet whine he hopes you don't hear (you do).

His pulls only become quicker the more you stare and it doesn't take much for him to come close to an orgasm, especially with the way he sees your mouth watering.

Gojo moans your name out and you look up to his face. "Y'see what you do to me?" He pants, "F-Fuck, do me a favor..."

You think you get butterflies in reaction to his words. Again, perhaps you really are good at seducing men. "What is it Satoru?" You ask softly.

"Spit on it f'me," He huffs, "Please?"

Water is already being welled up in your mouth and you don't even hesitate to lower yourself to him slightly, spitting on his flushed tip just as he requested. Gojo's strokes become faster and he's panting and trying his best not to moan or whine.

His efforts fly out the window when you go further and push your tongue to his tip, just to get the slightest taste. Gojo lets out the filthiest moan when you wrap your lips around him and slip your tongue through the slit of his cock.

"Shit-," He chokes and his eyes almost roll back despite you hardly doing anything. "W-Wait I'm-," Again, Gojo is unable to speak and you're surprised when you pull your mouth off of him and he cums right then and there.

Right on your face too. You closed your eyes fast enough but Gojo didn't fail to get his seed on your tongue, lips, some on your nose, and even a bit all the way up above your eyebrow. The effect you have on the poor man is truly embarrassing.

Carefully, you open your eyes and blink a few times as you render the fact that he just came on your face.

Meanwhile, Gojo is dazed. He wants to take a picture so bad-- your pretty face decorated in his cum. It does something to him. He knows you'd never let him though, he's already got a video of you playing with yourself but this is just...

Well, it's worse but that's not why he wants a picture. Gojo wants to have this image of you so that he can go back to it later and so that he'll never be able to forget the scene of you decorated in his cum. "Fuck, I'm..." Gojo lets out a breathy laugh, "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to uh..."

"Cum on my face?" You say slightly annoyed. A warning would've been nice, even though he couldn't get it out in time.

You raise a hand to wipe it off. "W-Wait," Gojo calls, causing you to pause. He beckons you to him with two fingers and you raise a brow.

Hesitantly, you crawl over him and toward his face until you're hovering over him. Gojo sits up slightly and you just knew he was about to lick his remnants off your face with how close he got to you. He doesn't though, thankfully.

Instead, Gojo moves to wipe his cum off your face with his hand as if he didn't want you to touch it. His thumb is gentle against your face and the two of you lock eyes as he cleans you.

When he's done, his thumb covered in his white fluids, his gaze drops down to your lips. Gojo smirks and forces your mouth open, wiping the fluids from his thumb onto your tongue. Your eyes widen but you don't fight with him.

"Swallow it for me?" He asks gently. Your stomach churns and you do just that, going as far as to suck on his thumb a little while you swallow down his seed. Gojo smiles proudly and whispers a soft and quiet, "That's my girl."

You try not to get too distracted but there is an emotion that swells in your heart. You ignore it for now but it's still there. "Satoru," You murmur.

"Hm?" He hums in response.

Your mind is thankfully back on the point of the entire interaction, "My money." You remind him.

Gojo chuckles and reaches a hand into the pocket of his sweatpants, pulling out his wallet. Two thousand dollars in straight cash is pulled out of his wallet and he slips it into your hand.

He just walks around with this much money on him?? You wonder to yourself.

"First person on the list complete," Gojo hums. "But," He tilts his head and leans close to your expression, "You can always call me for more."

With a slick smile, you tip your head close to his and give him a little peck, "I know."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As for your second target, Geto Suguru, meeting him was... an event.

If you thought that you were nervous when Gojo threatened to expose your video to the school, Geto made you utterly speechless. The breath was stripped right from your throat with how direct and clear he was with how he viewed you and what he wanted.

Gojo is silly with his flirting but Geto? That man is blunt with it. So blunt that you understand why Gojo said he's considered a 'medium' level difficulty.

It was late into the afternoon when Gojo called you over to his apartment. You slipped yourself into a simple yet pretty short black dress that accentuated your body shape.

This was to fit the image of women that Gojo told you Geto was attracted to of course but, you couldn't deny the way the dress lured attention from quite a few people as you made your way to Gojo's place. And it was no help when Gojo opened his front door and his eyes instantly shot down to your body.

"Damn," Is the first thing Gojo utters at the sight of you.

It's been about three days since this whole thing started and today was the day you were set to try seducing Geto. Your blackmailer informed you that the other guys on the list weren't going to be as easy since he won't introduce you to them and it may even take days or weeks to seduce some of them.

That bothered you a bit but hey, at least you have something outside of school to work on-- and you're getting paid.

Like always, your head is tipped back so that you can look up at the tall man wearing that annoying smirk of his. "Hi Gojo," You greet.

The male pouts, "What happened to calling me Satoruuu?"

Since you slept with him, you haven't seen him much so you assumed that calling him by his first name was just a one-time thing. Turns out you were wrong, "Oh, I just thought..."

"C'mon sweetheart, we're friends now aren't we?" Gojo asks.

You fold your arms under your chest and Gojo's vision focuses on your tits instantly. "Are we?" You ask in return.

His blue eyes narrow a bit as he stares, "Mhmm... Yeah," Gojo murmurs, clearly dazed for a second. You didn't know it but he was already having flashbacks of you and him a few days ago-- the way he had you laid out, moaning for him, scratching at his back, and eventually face covered in his-

"Alright then Satoru," You call, breaking him from his thoughts. "Since we're 'friends', you'll let me inside now right?"

Gojo shakes his head a little to part from his mind, "You should let me inside you again," He teases.

Heat rushes to your face and your eyes widen as you glance around the hallway to make sure no one else is there to witness or hear his foolishness. Seeing no one, you turn back to Gojo with a glare.

"I take it back, we're not friends." You say curtly.

Gojo moves a hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt, "Aw, that's hurtful... You're really gonna play hard to get now?" He questions.

Your firm gaze doesn't waver. "Can you just let me inside already?"

He chuckles and moves his body to the side so that you can walk past him. Once you do, Gojo's eyes drop to your ass and he smiles ridiculously hard. "Y'know, I don't mind if you decide to be like that," Gojo tells you.

His words confuse you so you end up turning around to him as he closes his front door. "Be like what?" You ask.

"Hard to get. Doesn't make me any less interested in you," Gojo admits.

Clearly, despite the blackmailing and the whole whoring you out to people he knows, Gojo has some kind of genuine attraction to, interest in, or even crush on you.

With a scoff, you focus yourself on why you're at his place right now, "I'm not concerned with your interests right now Satoru."

He smirks, "Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm interested in Geto's interests as of right now." You tell him confidently.

Gojo nods his head slowly, his eyes flickering behind you for just a moment. "That so?" He hums.

"Yeah..."

"Why's that again?" Gojo suddenly asks.

You blink, "You know why."

Gojo meets your gaze for a second before looking somewhere behind you again, this time his brows furrow a little. "Do I...?" He asks softly.

You turn your head behind you to see what he kept looking at but you're met with an empty hall that leads to other parts of Gojo's apartment.

Turning back to Gojo, you nod, "Yeah, you do. Hell, the only reason I'm here right now is for Geto."

Something inside Gojo pangs at your words but he pushes this feeling off. His mouth opens to respond with something witty but he's cut off.

"Is that so?" Another voice chimes in, the sound coming from your left and Gojo's right.

Both of you turn your head in that direction and your eyes go wide as Gojo's lips move to a smile.

Any words you had fallen off your tongue as you met eyes with Geto Suguru. Half of his raven locks of hair are pulled back into a bun and the remaining flows down his back, ending somewhere in the middle. He's got his fingers curled around a glass of water and his eyes won't leave yours.

Even with the distance between the two of you, you can tell he's tall, probably somewhere around Gojo's height if not the same. Geto seemed to have been lounging around based on the black sweater and sweatpants he's got on.

You've gone awfully quiet since he's said something and you stiffen up where you stand as Geto raises the glass of water to his face and takes a sip, eyes gliding down along your body.

Fuck, he's even sexier in person. You thought to yourself.

"Satoru," Geto calls out, his voice filled with so much affection that even you felt weird hearing it.

If your name had ever been called in such a way you'd melt right then and there. His voice is so sweet, sweet like honey as he calls Gojo's name. Hell, your head turns to the white-haired man to see if he even hears the way his friend calls for him.

Of course, Gojo seems to be used to it. "Hm?" He hums.

"Who's the angel you brought with you?" Geto asks, his eyes still on you but words directed to his friend.

Gojo steps toward you and tosses an arm over your shoulder, "Just a friend of mine." He says simply.

"Do I owe this friend of yours something?" Geto asks in response.

"Not that I know of, no."

"Then why's she 'here for me'?" He questions further.

Gojo's brows raise and he looks down at you, "Well sweetheart? I'm sure you can answer that better than I can."

Great. Gojo did that on purpose. He's putting you on the spot as if he doesn't only have you here to seduce the male standing in the kitchen. You shoot Gojo a quick glare and then look back to Geto, whose eyes are filled with curiosity.

"Uh, w-well," Damnit, Geto's intense eye contact has you stuttering and Gojo's arm over your shoulder, and closeness doesn't help you much. "Satoru promised to introduce me to you..." You murmur.

Gojo sighs at the fact that you threw the spotlight back onto him but luckily, Geto's not interested in talking to Gojo more than he already does. "Yeah?" Geto hums to you.

Your head nods slightly.

"And what's so special about meeting me? Again, do I owe you something...?" He asks, tilting his head slightly and giving you a warm little smile.

Your heart races as you try to come up with a response. Geto's smile is charming, but there's an air of mystery surrounding him that leaves you uneasy and nervous. You take a deep breath and gather your thoughts before speaking.

"No, you don't owe me anything," You reply, trying your best to sound confident. "I just uh..." Shit, what are you supposed to say? You wanted to meet him so you could fuck him for some stupid game Gojo has you playing?

Geto has his head still tilted but he straightens up and sets his glass of water off to the side. His hands go to his pockets casually and he moves to stand near the end of the counter.

One hand rises from his pocket and he beckons you closer with two fingers, "C'mere," Geto calls.

Gojo suddenly removes his arm from your shoulder, "I'll let you two chat," He hums playfully as he walks past you and heads down the hallway.

Your eyes go wide and your heart sinks, "W-Wait don't just leave me-," You sigh frustratedly while Gojo ignores you and dips off around a corner.

Slowly, your sights return to Geto who's still waiting for you to come to him.

"C'mon, I don't bite," He taunts, "Well, unless you want me to-"

"N-No." You squeak. "I just, I'm fine right here. Why do you need me so close?"

"Sorry gorgeous but, I can't hear you too well from all the way over there." He says, this time sending you a friendly smile.

You're hesitant but, you end up walking toward him. He's standing right by the edge of the kitchen counter so you approach the side closest to him. You're close enough to smell the cologne radiating off his body but not close to the point where you're uncomfortable or anything.

"There she is," Geto purrs as you come to a stop. He then extends a hand out for you to shake, "See? I'm not so scary up close am I?"

Scary? No. Ridiculously attractive? Yes. "No, I guess not..." You respond in a soft tone while taking his hand and shaking it.

Geto holds your hand firmly, running his thumb over the surface of your skin. "Now tell me, why'd you wanna meet me again?" He asks, his voice low and captivating.

"Uhm..." You swallow hard. Staring directly into his eyes wasn't easy and you swear your hand was growing all sweaty.

He weighs in closer to you, his face nearing yours a little, "Uhmm...?" Geto mocks, clearly teasing you in a similar way to Gojo.

You blink, "Sorry, you're just..." Don't say it. Don't say it. Do not say-, "Really hot." You blurt out.

He freezes and you feel as though you could die. Then, Geto starts laughing at you, flashing the prettiest smile you think you've ever seen from a man. "Think so?" He utters in the middle of his laughter.

Just go with it. At least you were getting somewhere, "Yeah uh, it's distracting." You continue.

Geto's laughter dies down and he suddenly shifts your hand, tugging it close to his face and moving to kiss over your knuckles. "How do you think you're making me feel?" He says smoothly as he stares into your eyes.

Your knees threaten to go weak. "H-Huh?"

"I mean," Geto lifts away from your hand and tilts his head over to bluntly look at your body, "Coming into my apartment, asking for me, wearing that..." He lists before glancing at your face again, "Looking like that..."

"Like what?" You ask.

He smirks, "My type."

A surge of mixed emotions flush into your face. He's got you flustered already. You're nervous and all hot, "Are you flirting with me right now?" You say with the falsest confidence you could muster.

"I am," Geto hums.

That's great and all but how are you supposed to convince him to fuck you...? Damn Gojo and this dumb ass game of his. You sigh and try your best to have your way with the man before you. Getting to know him isn't important. All that matters is that you sleep with him.

You're lucky there's no time limit on this but still, you want to just get it all over with. Purposefully pushing your chest out further as you straighten up your standing posture, you flash Geto a nice smile.

"Cute." You say slyly.

His brows furrow and he restrains from looking down at your tits. "Cute? You think my flirting is cute?" Geto chuckles.

You nod your head, "Yup."

"You pretending to be confident is what's cute," Geto argues back, having been caught on to your false confidence.

Your body tenses and you think your heart sinks a little. So much for being confident. The man sees right through you. "I wasn't pretending..." You deny.

Geto chuckles, "Sure you weren't. What's your name gorgeous?"

First Gojo with sweetheart and now Geto with gorgeous... Are you ever going to escape these nicknames? Probably not.

You give the man your name and his smile widens.

"That's pretty." He compliments, his words forcing a smile onto your face. "And please, just call me Suguru."

"Are you sure...?" You ask hesitantly.

He nods, "Why wouldn't I wanna hear my name coming from that pretty little mouth of yours?"

You freeze. He's so bold... almost too bold. Maybe he knows. Maybe Gojo told him the whole thing and he knows exactly why you're here.

"Now," Geto begins, breaking you from your thoughts, "You never really answered my question about why you wanted to meet me."

Shit. You still don't have a cover-up for that. You don't know anything about him so how are you supposed to explain why you wanted to meet him? If you knew where he works or what he does for a living maybe you could use that but Gojo didn't give you that much information.

You definitely should've asked Gojo more questions. You sigh and give the shittiest but only excuse you could come up with, "I saw you the other day and mentioned you to Satoru, he said he knew you and could introduce me to you so... here I am."

Geto stares, his eye contact making you nervous as always. "Right... So now that you're here... Tell me, what is it that you want from me?"

You chew on your lower lip. Again, how do you respond to this?

Before you come up with something, Geto suddenly leans down closer to you. "Is there something I can do for you gorgeous?" He murmurs in an almost seductive tone, clearly hinting at something.

Yes. He could bend you over the kitchen counter and have his way with you so that you can get him checked off that stupid ass list... But of course, you're not gonna say all of that out loud.

"Uhm, n-no?" You utter.

Your breath sinks into your throat as he nears you some more, his face stopping a few inches away from your own. "You sound unsure." Geto teases. He then places his hand over your own and gives you a gentle smile, "You wanted to see me for a reason so, just tell me."

"I'm interested in you." You end up blurting out.

His eyes widen, "Yeah?" Geto smiles, still remaining close to you, "Interested in me how?"

Sexually. But you don't say that.

Instead, your eyes drop down to his lips, and damn the way Geto notices it too. You're screwed, so screwed. He definitely knows you came over to seduce him. There's no way he doesn't.

With what little confidence you have, you decide to just say 'fuck it' and go for it. "I think you know how." You say with a different tune to your voice.

Your words prompt a quirk on his lips, "Maybe," Geto replies, furthering your suspicions of Gojo telling him everything. "But damn, at least take me on a date first..." He says playfully.

And there's your confirmation. He definitely knows why you're here.

"Well, when are you free?" You respond. Knowing that he's already aware of your intentions only makes this whole thing easier for you.

Geto flashes a smile, "Wow, you actually wanna take me on a date? Alright then, I'm free tomorrow night if you are."

Of course you are, tomorrow's a Sunday and you barely even have friends as it is.

"Yeah, I'm free..." You hum.

He nods and the two of you soon exchange numbers.

A little more small talk occurs between you two but ultimately, your plan to seduce Geto and get him to sleep with you has officially begun...

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[leaderwonim]

𓇻 I’M A FEMINIST, OBVIOUSLY, BUT I WOULDN’T REALLY MIND HIM SAVING ME.

▸ PAIRING.. class president!yang jungwon x outcast!fem!reader

▸ SYNP. jang y/n hated yang jungwon. perfect, loved by everybody, class president yang jungwon. people only liked him because he was a man and he was charismatic. however, when she’s being picked on by the girls at school, yang jungwon comes to her rescue, and weirdly, she didn’t mind it?

▸ GENRE. enemies to lovers (it’s one sided though, yn just hates jw😭) angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of sexism, fluff

author’s note: this is based off of olivia rodrigo’s unreleased song! This was honestly so much fun to write and it took me about 3 days cause I fell violently ILL like the day after I started writing😭 As usual, REBLOGS and COMMENTS are so greatly appreciated <33

Jang Y/N was what people called an outcast. Although she was pretty and had the grades, she heavily disliked half of her class, which in turn, didn’t exactly make her very popular.

“I hate him.” She says as she shoves a spoonful of rice into her mouth. Her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung, who told her that she shouldn’t be so negative all the time.

“Who, Jungwon?” Wonyoung asks, frowning. “Yah Y/N, you can’t hate him forever. He’s nothing but nice to you.”

“I don’t care,” Y/N mumbles angrily, putting away her lunch. “Wonyo, people only like him because he’s a man who can say a few charming words. He smiles and at least half of our class falls onto their knees or something.”

Wonyoung chokes at her sister’s comparison, and can’t help but let out a little laugh. “I’m just saying Y/nie, you can’t just despise him because he seems perfect to the naked eye. In fact, I say become friends with him. It’ll be good for you.”

Y/N shuts down the idea right away, much to Wonyoung’s dismay.

“I am just saying,” Wonyoung stands up, finished with her lunch. “I mean, don’t you find it sad? That you eat lunch everyday with your sister instead of eating with friends or a boyfriend?”

“No,” Y/N says, frowning. “I like eating lunch with you Wonyo.”

“Hm, I guess.”

The Jang sisters lock arms, strolling to their next class. They miss the longing glance that Yang Jungwon sends towards Y/N’s direction, already too far gone into the Decelis Academy hallway.

‏‏‎ ‎

Unfortunately for Y/N, she had her leadership class with Jungwon, where they would discuss things like student politics and how to better the school so that Decelis could stay at its rightful place of number one on private academy rankings.

It was stupid, Y/N thought, Decelis shouldn’t even be close to number one, this school was filled with a bunch of spoilt children who were obsessed with the idea of money and power.

“Is there a problem, Miss. Jang?” The teacher asks, noticing the little scoffs she was adding each time Jungwon spoke about an initiative he wanted to add.

“No,” Y/N shrugs. “I just think Yang Jungwon’s new initiative is just a waste of time. It's not going to solve anything.”

Jungwon smirks, something that Y/N so desperately wants to wipe the floor with. “Y/N, always the critic of my ideas. Very well, let’s hear your brilliant solution.”

She rolls her eyes. Of course Yang Jungwon wanted to pretend to remain civil, if he had blown up on her, it would’ve tarnish his reputation, and Yang Jungwon would be nothing without his reputation, right?

“Instead of your one-size-fits-all approach method, we need personalized mentorship programs. Each student faces unique challenges, and your initiative doesn't address that.”

Jungwon smiles. “Well I suppose you’re right. But perhaps if you actually joined the initiative, you'd understand its effectiveness.”

Y/N grits her teeth, not enjoying how much Yang Jungwon was enjoying this. “Oh, right, because following the herd blindly is the key to success? Unlike half of Decelis’ population, I prefer independent thinking.”

The boy leans closer in, face almost touching the girl. “Sometimes collaboration is the key to progress, Y/N. Try it sometime.”

The two students make eye contact until Y/N breaks, finally pulling her eyes away.

“As usual, Yang Jungwon always has to be right.” She mumbles under her breath. “God, please save me from being in this class any longer,”

‏‏‎ ‎

Y/N throws her backpack on the floor as soon as she steps into her house, not caring about the expensive computer her grandmother had bought her last Christmas that was stuffed inside. Her parents were in the kitchen, discussing something in hushed whispers, almost as if it was top secret.

Always being the curious child, she leans onto the wall that separated the living room and kitchen, trying to make out what the topic was about.

“I’m just worried honey,” she can hear her mom say as her dad rubs her back comfortingly. “Y/N doesn’t have a lot of friends at that school, Wonyoung told me about it. You know she only hangs out with her sister and that’s it?”

“I mean, is it really that bad that she only hangs out with Wonyoung? She’s always been quiet, I think we’ve just got to respect that. She’s an excellent student anyway, there’s no harm in having little friends.”

Although her parents truly just wanted the best for her, Y/N felt like a complete loser by how they were going about it.

She quickly rushed to her room, biting her lip in annoyance at how everybody seemed to have an opinion about her life. She was happy with how it was going, and she didn’t care that her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung was a sweetheart and lived with her, it was a built in best friend for life.

“Just you wait,” Y/N huffs, sharpening her pencil. “I’m gonna go to university, leave this place, and I won’t have to hear about any of these kids ever again.”

‏‏‎

Y/N woke up the next day with a red eye, probably from crying last night despite telling herself she didn’t care.

She cared, a lot.

Romanticizing being alone was fun until she realized that she was truly all alone, with no friends to lean on.

“Is that Jang Y/N?”

Park Jiwon. The devil herself. She was evil as she was pretty, and she had no problem making Y/N’s life a living hell.

“Where’s Wonyoung? Did your own sister finally get tired of you?” Her little group of minions laugh as if it was the funniest thing ever, and Y/N tries and stops herself from giving them all a swing to the face.

“No, but I’m sure you’re used to that feeling, right Jiwon?”

“Oh you little b—”

“Jiwon, you can’t hit her! You’ll get suspended and it’ll go on your permanent record.” Her friend says, which makes the girl straighten up right away.

“You’re lucky Jang,” the girl snarls. “But yah, what were you thinking? Talking back to Jungwon? He’s so smart and handsome, dedicating his time to make initiatives for the school. You should be more grateful.”

She and her minions get so close that they practically push Y/N back onto the locker, suffocating her with their glares.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” The voice of Jungwon doesn’t go unnoticed by a single girl, who, all but Y/N, straighten up their hair when they realize he’s behind them.

“We’re just talking, right Y/N?” Jiwon says, pinching onto the girl tightly.

“Really? It doesn’t seem like it.” Jungwon rolls his eyes. “Park Jiwon, don’t make me give you detention for picking on other students. It doesn’t make you attractive.”

The girl gasps, immediately letting Y/N go as her face heats up in embarrassment.

“I wasn’t—”

“Just go.” With one point of a finger, Yang Jungwon got Park Jiwon and her minions out of the hallway, leaving Y/N and him alone.

“You okay?” He asks her, eyes concerned.

“Thank you,” she breathes out. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Why didn’t I?” He raises his eyebrows. “You were getting picked on.”

“Well, I’m not the nicest to you.” The girl says, suddenly embarrassed. “At all, actually. So thank you Jungwon, really.”

“Ah,” the boy smiles. “It’s nothing. I don’t hate you if that’s what you think, I think you have a brilliant mind just like me.”

And for the first time since she’s stepped into the school, Jang Y/N finds herself liking Yang Jungwon, and not just for his looks.

‏‏‎

“Y/N!” The loud voice of Yang Jungwon doesn’t go by Wonyoung, who gives her sister a smirk as she slightly pushes back her shoulder.

“Wonder why he’s coming,” she teases, which makes Y/N scrunch up her nose in annoyance.

“Would you like to come with me to this new bread place?” He asks, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Sorry—I ran all the way from the cabinet office to here.”

“It’s alright,” Y/N giggles, which makes Wonyoung’s eyes pop out of their sockets because she swears she never heard that sound coming from her sister’s mouth before. “I’d love to Jungwon.”

“Great! I’ll uh.. I’ll see you later!”

Wonyoung turns to face Y/N as soon as Jungwon leaves, giving her the biggest grin ever. “What was that?!”

“Let’s just say, I don’t hate Yang Jungwon anymore.” Y/N smiles, laughing as she watches Wonyoung’s jaw practically drop to the ground.

‏‏‎

“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Jungwon says as he and Y/N walk to the new bread place.

“Yes,” Y/N puffs out, “I should’ve brought a jacket.”

Before she knew it, Jungwon already takes off his jacket and wraps it around the girl’s shoulder.

“Jungwon,” she whines, “then you’ll be cold!”

“It’s alright really!” He laughs, giving her a big smile. “I’m practically invincible to cold. Was just asking because you seemed to be freezing.”

“You’re sweet,” she says, looking down at her feet. “I feel really guilty for trying to one up up all the time or prove you wrong. I just hate it, you know?”

“Hate what?”

“You might not realize it but a lot of people don’t want to hear what I say because I’m a woman, and that’s it. Just because I’m a woman. Like sometimes, I have ideas just as brilliant and changing as yours, but everybody says I’m complaining and over analyzing. When you say it, with your handsome face and clear voice, everybody’s suddenly entranced, and they’re so interested in school politics.”

“So you think I’m handsome?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing back Jungwon slightly as he laughs.

“I’m kidding, Y/N. I know what you mean now. I’m sorry that I can’t change how people view and perceive things, but I want you to know that I listen to your ideas, that I care. You might not realize this either but whenever you’re talking, I always listen. Like your initiative about bringing better programs into the school, I listened through the whole thing because I just—I’m inlove with the way you articulate things and the way you speak. If I was half as good at speaking my mind like you were, I’d be unstoppable. You’re a great person, Y/N, and I’m so glad I’m able to see that.”

The way Yang Jungwon speaks about her makes Y/N want to cry and smother him in a hug, which she does a second later by bringing him into a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you Jungwon.” She says, face in his neck. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He feels like he’s out of breath by how close the two of them were, his heartbeat racing by each second that passed. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N.”

‏‏‎

“Hey!” Y/N is practically used to seeing Yang Jungwon come up to her everyday now, the two even spending lunch together every two days.

“What’s up Yang?” She says, noticing a packet of papers in his hand.

“You know your feedback on my initiative? Your personalized mentorship program idea! The headmaster really liked it and he’s implementing it starting next semester with your name as the credit on it!”

Y/N’s eyes widen in joy, shrieking as her hands unconsciously come in contact with Jungwon’s, the two holding both of each other’s hands tightly as they jumped in happiness.

“You’re amazing Yang Jungwon!” She says giddily, “you really are.”

The two of them stop to stare at one another for a brief second before Jungwon finds himself leaning in, closing the gap between their lips.

When they pull away, the smiles on their faces never fades, Jungwon’s dimple ever so prominent.

“I love you,” Y/N breathes out. “My wonderful class president.”

And although Y/N is a feminist, obviously, she wouldn’t mind a man like Yang Jungwon saving her, for he taught her what love was like, and that she should never ever settle for less.

[whore-era]

infatuation - part 1

☁︎ delinquent!ellie williams x preppyfem!reader, enemies to lovers trope ☁︎ smut, angst, tiny bit of fluff ☁︎ summary: don’t let your boyfriend stop you from finding your girlfriend.  ☁︎ warnings: 18+ only. kissing, fingering & oral (r!recieving), masturbation, mentions of weed and smoking weed, mentions relationships w/ men, feelings, kinda mean ellie but then shes nice again, arguing and yelling kinda (let me know if i miss any more necessary warnings ty baes) ☁︎ a/n: i wrote this in like one day. hope u all enjoy this fic as much as i enjoyed writing it! ya nasties ;) ☁︎ word count: 4,347 ☁︎ 1/2 - part 2

you swore to yourself you’d never let yourself get involved with the university’s infamous delinquent— ellie williams. but you should’ve known that’d be hard to avoid, knowing she was just in reach as your roommate’s best friend. 

ellie was always, and i mean always, there in your dorm. either chilling with dina, talking with dina, or, much to your disliking, smoking with dina. 

ever since you ran into her on the first day of dorm move-in, she was constantly there, bickering with you, poking at you, and judging you for every little thing you did. 

ellie had this image of you; an image of this perfect, high maintenance, always put-together, prissy, goody-two-shoes. it was far from the truth, well, kind of. 

you did pride yourself on being one of the smartest girls on campus, and being very active in numerous extracurriculars at school. you were in the student body, the recycling club, the campus book club, the health club, the cooking club— you were just in a lot of clubs. 

but it would be an understatement to say that ellie williams is everything opposite of you. she was on the other side of the spectrum you were on. 

ellie williams was aggressive, a smartass, foulmouthed, risky, and usually up to trouble. always going to the dean’s office for a fight she probably started. the only reason why she hadn’t been kicked out from campus was because her stepdad is the dean's brother. don’t get yourself wrong, she was brilliant being an engineering major. but she was always doing something she wasn’t supposed to as if it fueled her drive.

you unlocked the door to your dorm, greeted with a fog of smoke. hacking out a cough, you switch on the lights, “dina!! what’d i tell you?” you lecture, stomping over towards the window to open it, “if you’re gonna smoke in here, at least open the window!”

“sorry, roomie,” dina coughed out, “we were just hotboxing.” 

you turned towards the pair, criss-crossed on dina’s bed, and furrow your brows, “what? hotboxing?” 

“yea, you know, smoking weed ’til the room fills up with smoke, so the high is more enhanced.” dina explained, you tilted your head to the side, still not fully comprehending whatever hotboxing was. 

the brunette girl leaned against the wall, giving you a smirk. “c’mon, dee. don’t waste your breath explaining,” ellie retorted, “i’m sure lil miss perfect here never smoked or drank before.” 

you scoffed, crossing your arms, “for your information, i have drank before.”

“oh yea? when was the last time, princess?” god, you hated that nickname. you hated the way it made you red in the cheeks. 

“….at church.” you muttered quietly, sending ellie and dina into a fit of laughter. 

“did you hear that, dee? at church! she said the last time she drank alcohol was at church!” ellie let out a boisterous laugh, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. 

“good one, princess.”

you huffed, rolled your eyes, and rummaged around your side of the room to search for what you were looking for in the first place.

was it so wrong for you to not drink or smoke weed? you didn’t think negatively about anyone who used it, but you just didn’t feel comfortable using something that had such an effect on you. you wanted autonomy over your body at all times. 

bingo. you found the cropped white baby tee you wanted to change into, finding it more comfortable than the scratchy sweater you had on currently. turning away from the chatter of dina and ellie, you lifted the sweater above your head, tossed it in your laundry bag, and slipped into the more fitted and more comfortable white tee. 

standing in front of your mirror, you checked your outfit. you thought a simple t-shirt and black yoga pants were cute enough to hang out with jacob in. you fixed your hair, and looked up at the corner of your mirror, your eyes meeting green ones. 

ellie bit her lip, watching the beautiful yet stubborn girl in front of her. she couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. you just looked so goddamn beautiful. she couldn’t help but take a peek at the way your bare back curved or how soft your skin looked as your sweater slid off your body. ellie definitely didn’t complain about the yoga pants either and how they hugged your ass and thighs in all the right places. 

knowing she was staring at you, you hiked your yoga pants higher and bent over a little, reapplying your favorite shimmering lipgloss in the mirror. you weren’t sure what came over you, but the feeling of knowing ellie was watching you, gave you butterflies in your belly. 

you see her smirk and break eye contact with you. picking up your backpack and your ‘Organic Chemistry 101’ textbook, you bid dina a goodbye. 

“i’ll be back later tonight dina, don’t wait up for me.” you said, slipping your shoes on. 

ellie cleared her throat, “where you headed off to?” 

“pi kappa alpha frat.” you met ellie’s eyes. they looked disappointed, but then quickly rolled to the side, masking whatever sadness you thought you saw.

“hm, i see,” ellie commented, “gonna go blow some frat dude’s cock, huh?”

you groaned, “ugh, no, idiot. i’m just gonna go study.” 

“mhm, whatever you say, princess.” you open the door and leave, hearing the sound of dina yelling ‘be safe’ right before you left. 

walking down the corridor, you thought to yourself ‘jacob isn’t that bad’. i mean, you both aren’t in a relationship by any means. you would describe it as ‘situationship’. jacob was nice, funny sometimes, cute, had a nice body, and was cool. him as a boyfriend though? you weren’t sure about that. he was good company, provided mediocre sex, and was nice to talk to, well, usually he’d talk about hockey and you’d listen. but that’s beside the point. you’re content with this situation, right? 

-

walking back to your dorm from what was probably the worst sex of your life was, quite frankly, embarrassing. you spend time changing into a cute outfit, fixing your makeup, and spritzing on a little bit of your favorite expensive perfume to show up to this dude’s room with him reeking of sweat and ham. you were disappointed, to say the least.

yet, you stayed anyways, unsure of what even compelled you to do that. you stayed for the company, and that company starts rubbing on your ass and tits not even 5 minutes into the netflix show. eventually, you give in, feeling in the mood from a little making out, and you were met with 3 thrusts and cum on your stomach. 

needless to say, you left in a hurry. currently cuddled under your pink duvet with your earphones on, you end up scrolling about on instagram, tapping to like and swiping up to comment on your friends posts. 

while aimlessly scrolling, a picture from @e.williams pops up on your timeline. you study her picture in fascination.

it was a mirror picture of her in the gym, she had her hair up in her usual half-up half-down style with a tight tank top accentuating her physique as she was flexing her arms. gosh, how could someone so annoying be so gorgeous? your eyes trail to her arms and hands. and so fine? you double-tap on the picture, looking at it for a second more before scrolling past to the next post. 

your phone vibrates, and you check the notification from your instagram dm’s.

@e.williams: you checking me out or something ??

you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. luckily, ellie wasn’t here to see that, or else you would’ve never heard the end of it. you type back.

in ur dreams idiot 

you lay in bed closing your eyes, and somehow, your mind drifts off to that annoying green-eyed girl.

your mind goes to the way she looks at you when she thinks you don’t notice, or how even though she comments on everything you do, she’s so attentive about it. your mind plays in your head the way she calls you those stupid nicknames, and as much as you claim to hate them, you can’t deny the way it makes your heart flutter. 

then, your mind floats to the corner of your brain that you keep locked away. you think about the way ellie bites her lip when she gets anxious, how better her lips would feel pressed onto yours. you think about the way she flexes her arms and hands, wondering how they would feel stroking your most intimate parts. 

you find your hand inside your panties. luckily, dina was in the communal showers, doing her 25-step skincare routine. knowing you had the time, your hand goes down to your wet heat, rubbing your clit in slow circles. 

you close your eyes, picturing her in your head, imagining her fingers working on you instead. you think about how perfect she’d look above you, looking down at you with adoring eyes. you knew she’d take good care of you. you suppress the need to moan by biting down on the duvet. 

even when she wasn’t here, ellie had a way of drawing out unrecognizable responses from you. your finger still rubbing circles on your clit, an orgasm began to bubble in your stomach. you picked up the pace, legs beginning to shake, “fuck, ellie..” you manage to moan out as you finish on your fingers. 

gosh, what was this girl doing to me?

-

it was saturday night and you had managed to get another date with jacob. you rejected him at first, but he was very persistent and promised ‘mind-blowing sex’ and takeout from one of the best restaurants in town. you obliged, clearly in it only for the takeout. 

you thought it’d be a good idea to hang out with him. his hockey stories distracted you from the real person you had your mind stuck on, ellie. 

you thought about her all the time, it gave you a migraine. you couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore without feeling nervous. luckily, you managed to avoid her all week, hanging out at one of your good friend’s dorm room ’til you knew the coast was clear. 

you didn’t let yourself think about what it would be like being in a relationship with ellie williams. she didn’t like you at all, not in that way anyway. she’d probably make some comment like ‘hell would freeze over before i even look at you like that’. the two of you together would be a recipe for disaster. you literally despised each other. 

smoothing down your dress, you smiled at the mirror in satisfaction. you went over to your desk and sat down, getting ready to apply some light makeup.

hearing the door open and close, you assumed it was dina.

“damn, who died?”

your head turns and meets those stupid green eyes and that stupid smirk adorned with those stupid freckles that make your stupid heart race a little faster. god, you were so stupid. 

“ha ha, very funny,” you snapped, “what are you doing here, anyways?”

“dina doesn’t get off work for a couple of hours and i didn’t have jackshit to do, so i thought i would wait for her here,” ellie plops down on dina’s bed.

“hell, no. get out,” you demanded, pointing to the door. you really just wanted her to leave so you could let go of the breath you’ve been holding. it made you anxious being alone with her and the fact that she wore that stupid blue button-up that made her look so good didn’t make anything better either. 

“chill out, princess,” ellie said leaning back against dina’s head board, “you won’t even notice i’m here.” 

you huffed in frustration, trying to hide the crimson creeping up on your cheeks. you proceeded to get your mind off the brunette by continuing your makeup, intently dabbing your concealer in, and carefully curling your lashes. you pat your face gently with some powder and brush out your brows, once in a while looking to the side of your mirror, catching ellie looking at you before she quickly looks away, pretending to be on her phone.

“gettin’ all dolled up for your lil’ boyfriend?” she asks dryly, still looking down at her phone. 

“wouldn’t you like to know?” 

“please, do enlighten me, princess.” you swallow hard, “i’ll have you know that i’m going out with jacob anderson tonight.” 

“no fucking way, is that the shithead you’re seeing from pi kappa alpha?” she says, surprised with wide eyes.

“mhm,” you hummed in confirmation, still rummaging in your makeup.

“why am i even surprised, you did always gravitate towards the assholes.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”, you paused and raised a brow. 

“you go for assholes,” she stated, “do i need to spell it out for you?”

“jacob is not an asshole, he’s really nice.” you muttered, patting on some blush. “he’s hell of a lot nicer than you.” 

okay, you knew that was a lie. but you had to think of a way to get her off your back.

“m’yeah, i highly doubt that. he’s a fucking tool,” she says nonchalantly, “where’s he even taking you anyways?”

“he asked me to meet up with him at the frat house, we’re gonna watch netflix and eat takeout and stuff,” you admit. 

“you fuckin’ with me?” ellie looks surprised and almost pissed. 

“no, why would i?”

“are you serious? it’s pouring rain outside and he asked you to come over,” she points out, “the asshole didn’t even have the decency to come over here and walk with you himself.”

your eyes look out the window, barely registering the pitter-patter of the rain hitting your window. you didn’t even know it was raining and you wore a dress. your mind was so consumed with classes, ellie, clubs, ellie, student body, ellie, and ellie. the small details just flew right over your head.

you stay silent, and she just gives you a look. a look you couldn’t decipher.

“you’re a real piece of work, y’know that?” ellie retorts, crossing her arms. jesus, why did she have to look so good like that?

“what’d i do this time? please, share with the class.” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“you just go for guys who treat you like garbage or who’re way out of your league.” she argues, “they’re either too stupid or don’t give a fuck about you.” ouch. that kind of stung.

you close your eyes, waiting before answering back at her, “can you stop it?! just for once. stop judging every single thing i do.” you yell, exasperated.

ellie’s eyes widen and she lets out a laugh, which sets you off even more.

“you think this is funny? you always make some snide comment about me. i’m too high maintenance, i’m a teacher’s pet, i’m spoiled, i go after horrible guys—“ 

“because you do!” she yells back.

“and why do you care, ellie?!” you yell, becoming out of breath, partly due to the hard pounding of your heartbeat in your chest, “why do you care so much?

she goes silent. 

“god, you infuriate me, ellie williams.” you breathe out. you felt almost as if fire was igniting inside of you and your slow breaths were releasing the smoke. you close your eyes, attempting to calm down before opening them again and putting on the last finishing touches on your makeup. as you stand up grabbing your purse, and you hear ellie let out a heavy sigh. 

“you’re seriously still gonna go out with that fucking frat bro prick jacob anderson? after everything i said?” she snarks, “i thought girls like you were supposed to be smart.” 

“yea, as a matter of fact. i am still going,” you give her a mocking smile.

“why? so, he can fuck you missionary in the dark while he finishes in 3 seconds?” she lets out a harsh laugh, “how fucking romantic.” 

“again, why do you even care? you don’t even like me,” you counter, her head spins in your direction.

“who told you that?” ellie appeared angry, her eyes sharp and a serious tone in her voice.

“no one that matters.” 

there’s a pregnant pause in the air as if she’s hesitating to say something. 

“well, whoever the fuck they are, they’re wrong.” she confessed, her voice wavering.

“what do you mean?”

she sighs in frustration, running a hand through her hair before standing up in front of you. 

“i’m infatuated with you.” 

“huh?” you manage to croak out in shock. did you hear her correctly?

“yea. you heard me. i’m infatuated with you. you fucking consume every corner of my mind. every capacity of my being.” she comes closer to you, backing you up against the door, “you drive me absolutely insane.”

“then why do you treat me like this?” you ask, looking up at her with big, curious eyes. ellie’s eyes soften at you.

“because— i hate seeing you go on dates with those dicks who don’t deserve you. i hate seeing the way you dress in those short-ass fucking dresses and skirts for them. i hate knowing that they don’t even make you feel good. i hate that you waste your time on those assholes instead of—,” she breathes, “—instead of me.” 

you look at her, searching for any sign of doubt in her face. nothing. no. she couldn’t do this. she couldn’t spring this on you. she couldn’t act one way to you for months and then tell you something different the next.

“so what? you think you deserve me? you deserve my attention?” you snap ungraciously.

“as a matter of fact, yes. yes i do.” she whispers, getting closer to you. “you and i both know it,” her breath fans your face, “i’d make you feel better than any of those assholes could.”

you shift uncomfortably in your spot, pulling your eyes away from hers. 

“i can give you everything you deserve. i can give you everything you want.” she swears. “i can make your pussy feel so, so good, baby,” you can feel your wetness pool in your panties. 

“can make you whimper and moan,” ellie suddenly grabs you by the bare flesh underneath your ass, her warm hands hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around her waist. 

“jus’ give me a chance to show you.” she whispers lowly. you smash your lips onto hers, your hands holding onto the nape of her neck. you knew this was probably a bad idea, but god, the way her tongue felt in your mouth felt ungodly. her tongue rubbed against yours, exploring your mouth like it was something she was destined to do. 

walking towards your bed, your frame still wrapped up around her, she bent down to lay you on your bed. ellie pulled away from your lips and looked down at you, scattering gentle kisses below your jawline towards your neck, your legs still firmly wrapped around her figure.

with your eyes closed, savoring the feeling of her lips all over your neck, you attempted to put an end to this. “el, we can’t,” you nearly moan out.

“why? ‘cause of jacob?” ellie lets out an amused laugh, before pressing her lips against the weak spot of your neck, sucking on it. 

another moan vibrates through you, “god, ellie,” you let out meekly. 

“tell me to stop,” she commands, her lips moving to suck on the spot above your collarbone, the tip of her tongue gliding against your skin. don’t stop. 

“tell me that i’m wrong,” ellie murmured, “that i don’t deserve you.” you deserve me.

her fingers lift up the hem of your dress, exposing your stomach. her lips pepper sloppy kisses against the supple skin of your stomach, “tell me you don’t want me,” i want you, “that you don’t feel the same for me.” i do feel the same for you. 

“tell me, baby,” ellie kisses in the space between your breasts, “tell me you’re not mine.” 

your heart was beating in and out of your chest. this was it. this was your chance. getting an opportunity to be with ellie williams was a once-in-a-lifetime offer, and you weren’t passing up your dream girl. 

you grab her face, lifting her lips up to yours. “i’m yours, ellie,” you cooed, “i’m all yours.” 

leaning her forehead against yours, her lips curled into a smile, before pressing onto yours one more time. her warm hands rubbed against the skin on your waist, exploring every inch of warm, flesh. you whined against her mouth, wanting more. you needed more. you needed her. 

ellie’s hands trailed upwards, lifting the dress off you and discarding it somewhere in your room. she took this opportunity to pull away from you for a second, her eyes grazing your body. ellie found it hard to believe she was in this situation, with you underneath her, nearly naked and looking angelic. she took a mental picture of this moment, never wanting to forget how you looked at her— with love.

her fingers went behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall and tossing it to the side.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she whispered, “you’re beyond anything i could’ve dreamt of.” 

your stomach erupted in butterflies, flushed at this newfound sweet side to ellie. her mouth placed sloppy kisses on your chest, sucking on the soft skin and leaving maroon-colored marks as a reminder of where she had been and where she belongs. 

she took your breast in her mouth, letting her tongue wrap around your hardened nipple. “oh my god, ellie,” you hissed. she smirked up at you, letting one of her hands massage and pinch on the other nipple.

“please, ellie,” you begged, “touch me, please.” 

she let out a sickening chuckle, the heat of her mouth fanning your skin, sending shivers up your spine. 

“where, sweet girl?” she said bringing her lips down to suck on your nipple again, “use your words.”

you bucked your hips up, “please, el, touch my pussy. pretty please.” you breathe out.

“ah, ah, ah, can’t hear you, baby.” she mocked, pulling her lips away from your now sensitive nipples.

“ellie, please,” you whined out, “i want you to touch my pussy. please.” 

she smirks, satisfied with where she has you. “that’s my good girl. how obedient, hm?”

she stands up, still in between your legs, and pulls your body to the edge of the mattress. her hands go to the waistband of your panties, using her fingers to ever-so-slowly peel them off of you. she was intentionally moving agonizingly slow. her hands caressed your inner thighs and calves, finally chucking your panties somewhere on the floor. 

“fuck, i’ve been waiting so long to do this,” ellie said, crouching down on the floor in front of you. you could feel her hot breath against your pussy, and you couldn’t bear it any longer. 

“please, i need you, el,” you beg, hoping for some relief. her hands lifted your thighs and placed them on her shoulders, her lips pressing soft kisses in between your thighs. she presses a kiss against your inner thigh, on your pussy lips, and then finally on your clit. 

ellie works slow and patiently, using her fingers to steadily spread your pussy lips apart and gather your wetness with her tongue. she uses one finger and inserts it inside you, eliciting a gasp from your lips. 

you throw your head back, “oh my god, ellie, yes,” you moan out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“look at you, getting what you want, you spoiled girl,” she mutters against your pussy, before putting her lips on your clit again, sucking on your sensitive core. her finger pumping in and out of you easily, the slick sound of your wetness reverberating throughout the room.

“you taste so fucking good, baby,” ellie hums against you, slurping up every drop of your juices. she adds a second finger, stretching you out a bit, but still sliding in and out of you with ease. 

her tongue flicking against your clit combined with her fingers fucking you was enough to almost send you over the edge, you cover your mouth with your hand, suppressing a loud moan that was tempted to come out.

“no, let me hear you, sweet girl,” ellie orders, “let everyone in this whole goddamn hall hear how good i’m fingerfucking you right now.”

you let your hand drop to your side, relishing in the ecstasy, and letting out a moan you were holding back.

“that’s my girl.” 

you hear your phone ring, knowing it’s jacob, probably wondering why you haven’t shown up by now. but here you were, with ellie, knuckles deep inside your pussy. 

she grabs your phone from the nightstand with her free hand, while the other is picking up the pace with her fingers, eliciting another moan from your parted lips, “hey fucker, leave a message. she’s busy right now.” 

you should’ve scolded her about how she answered your phone, but right now, any consequences you thought about vanished as she continued licking circles against your swollen clit while simultaneously curling her fingers up inside your leaking hole. 

“el—“ you barely choked out, “m’gonna— gonna—“

she kept the same pace, not for a second slowing down, “you gonna cum, baby? huh? you gonna cum for me?” 

you nodded weakly, clenching your pussy around her fingers and tightening your thighs around her head. 

“go ‘head, angel,” her pace never misses a beat, “show me who you belong to.”

your back arches off the mattress and you cry out, riding out your orgasm and letting your juices flow out of you. 

after cleaning your thighs with a wet wipe and towel, ellie comes up to hover above your face, planting a tender kiss on your lips. 

“is it too late to ask you to be my girlfriend?” she asks, letting out a sincere laugh. 

“i thought we already established this, idiot.” 

read part 2 here

[r3medialch8os]

devastating trobed quotes (a list)

does thinking of troy and abed ever make you inexplicably upset? well, it's all in the text! aside from troy and abed serving as frequent comedic buffers, they are given some weighty emotional scenes throughout community's run. just look at the meat of these lines!

we just won't get masking tape (what a beautiful, simplistic way to portray how troy is able to think around abed's systematic manner of viewing their friendship in its beginning stages as well as an illustration of how he deals with conflict)

i love you (pure honesty in a moment of intense distress)

i know (both a reference, because it's easy, and the truth)

you don't like people who tell you what to do, and i don't wanna be one of those people (one of the more heartbreaking things said between the two of them, with troy knowing exactly abed's qualms and negative experiences with being controlled, not wanting to add to it, and still having to fall into the pattern for the sake of keeping him safe, fearing he's risking their friendship by doing so)

you weren't supposed to think those things (you of all people, the person i trust most in this whole world)

this is going to be the last thing we ever do together, we can't stop (what the actual fuck)

i know you hate when people do this in movies (whispered quietly to abed by troy, without anyone else hearing, one of the most romantic, intimate lines in the whole show, argue with the wall)

you're gonna have to trust that you're gonna have to trust me (said to someone with severe trust issues, and for good reasons, just an incredible invocation of the bond they have)

for the first time in my long history of being locked inside things, i knew someone would come (as someone who was bullied in high school, this line hits so fucking hard, aren't we all waiting on this moment?)

you were out there somewhere, and you weren't looking for me? (devastating in a way where i simply cannot believe they throw words like these around casually)

the floor can't be lava forever, the game's gotta end (troy, perpetually insistent on indulging abed, on letting him do his thing, on enjoying his imagination, has to be the one to bring him back to reality this time, and even if he tries to do it as gentle as possible, it will never not rip my fucking heart out)

it's not a game for me troy. i'm seeing real lava because you're leaving, it's embarrassing. i don't wanna be crazy but i am crazy so i made a game that made you and everyone else see what i see. i don't want it to be there either, i swear. i want you to be able to leave but i don't think the lava goes away until you stop leaving (fuck it, i'm putting the whole thing, not a lot makes me cry but abed so clearly experiencing disillusion and trying to assuage troy while also communicating to him how hard it is to accept him leaving all with an air of embarrassment and hopelessness and desperation will do it for me, thank you very much)

i'm not leaving, okay? i promise. the floor's not lava now, just give me your hand (all i can say is that i bet it tore abed to pieces hearing these words)

i think i might be able to let troy go now (the way he says it too)

when i cloned you i had to patch some missing parts of your dna with genes from a homing pigeon. you may notice side effects like a compulsion to come back (in other words, i am in love with you and i never found the right time to say it)

[shellem15]

Back on my Asmodeus and Ludinus are narrative parallels bullshit again. I've just been trying to put into words why, despite their massive similarities, I feel so differently about them. Like, Asmodeus is an objectively worse person than Ludinus Da'leth but I love him while Ludi's mere presence has me contemplating homicide.

Honestly, I think the biggest differentiator here is that Asmodeus is FUN. Like, he's being horrible but at least on some level he's having fun while doing so. It's the Disney villain effect! He's bad but he's also charismatic and funny (he's got jokes!) and has plots and schemes and is committed to the bit!

And he's tragic too! He's such a messy bitch and whenever he enters the room you know shit's about to get dramatic. Despite all his talk, you can see the longing he has for his siblings. He loves them so much! He loves them but his love burns and he refuses to accept his part in the breakdown of their relationship. It's so juicy!!! There's so much here!!!

Ludinus just doesn't have this! He's not fun, he's preachy. He's got reddit atheist vibes, fucking twitter accelerationist yapping in your replies about how fascism is a good thing, actually. He's so sweaty! Just a huge fucking nerd. JD Vance levels of negative rizz.

And its just like, yeah I guess Ludinus is tragic. On an objective level, I suppose. But its not entertaining, its just kinda pathetic. And I think part of that is because the man is so isolated he doesn't really have any relationships to give him tragic depth? There's Lilliana, and his weird projection with Imogen, and that's kind of it. Which, this loneliness could be something! It could be interesting! But it falls flat on the sympathy side for me because its entirely self-inflicted and just kinda gives off "male loneliness" vibes.

Like, other people survived Calamity. They're all dead now, but he also should be dead now so that’s a moot point. His foremost developmental years were spent with people who shared his experiences and understood his pain, and he *still* couldn't form connections and move on. At that point, his lack of relationships is just a skill issue.

Both of them ruin the party when they walk in, but with Asmodeus shit gets messy while with Ludinus it just gets annoying. Asmodeus I want to beat up and make him cry then hug him. Ludinus I just want to beat up, period.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

More reverse if you please

Alfred looked up from his dinner preparations and frowned slightly. If the heavy stomping of boots coming down the hall hadn't heralded the arrival of Jason Todd, your swift and nearly silent evaporation from the room would have.

His constant state of anger would, the butler supposed, have a rather- negative effect on your state of mind. It was difficult enough being pressed on all sides like you were by the people around you. You'd explained it once like being in a room full of radios and television all turned on at different volumes and stations. You key into what's loudest- with practice you've learned to key into what you need and block out the rest.

"The emo still doesn't like me, huh?" Jason scoffed, helping himself to an apple.

"Y/N keeps to herself when she can," Alfred said simply. "She's a young woman of few words." Unless, he amended mentally, you were gotten alone and on a good day; then you could be delightful.

"Is that why you let her hang out in the kitchen?" he asked.

"That," Alfred said, "And she stays out of the way." He gave a meaningful glance to his drawer of utensils- the one Jason was leaning in front of and Jason snorted, adjusting position.

"What's her deal, anyway? Bruce wouldn't-"

"Her 'deal' is her own story and not for idle gossip," Alfred said simply. "Perhaps, if you'd stop scowling at her-"

"I don't-

"You scowl at everyone."

Jason's frown deepened and Alfred snorted, "Yes, exactly like that. Just give her time, Master Jason. She's always been a little weary of strangers. And strangers, until fairly recently, have given her good reason to be."

[lycandrophile]

I know that saying T turning twinks into otters and bears is supposed to be positivity, but it feels excluding of those of us that didn't get those effects from T. Trans men can look all kinds of ways and I keep seeing posts that almost belittle the idea of trans men remaining like that after T, but some of us do. Lift up the ones who do turn into otters and bears and those that don't. It's already a point of dysphoria for a lot of people

it is not humanly possible for me to include every single possible transmasc experience in one post, nor is it my responsibility to try to. positivity for one experience does not equal negativity toward other experiences. if you want a positivity post for people who don’t get those effects from t, by all means make one and i’ll fully support you in that, but don’t treat other kinds of positivity as wrong just because they’re not for you.

i am a trans man who went from a twink to an otter on t, and i put that line in because that’s an aspect of my transition that i’m incredibly proud of. i’m allowed to do that, and i’m not required to fulfill some sort of quota of positivity for other people to make that okay. me showing pride in my body and bodies like mine isn’t belittling other kinds of bodies, and i would challenge you to really ask yourself why you interpreted positivity for other people as automatically negative toward you. sometimes some things just aren’t for you and that’s okay. i’m sure there are other parts of that post that did apply to you, as well as plenty of other positivity posts that do. and if not? make some! send them to me, i’d love to reblog them! every positivity post you see is just a trans person making the posts they want to see more of, and you can do the same.

not to mention, hair growth and weight gain on t are incredibly stigmatized. people constantly talk about how bad they think all the hair looks or how gross they think it is when we don’t shave, and gaining weight is something that’s pretty much always framed as a negative side effect instead of a desirable and euphoric change. people literally try to convince us not to go on t by saying “you’re not going to stay an androgynous twink, you’re going to be hairy and all your fat will move to your stomach and you’ll just look like your dad.” that’s a horror story to a lot of people; that’s the thing that they think will disgust us enough to decide we don’t want to go on t.

so if you see a lot of posts hyping up trans otters and bears, it’s not us saying other kinds of bodies aren’t as good, it’s just us pushing back against those narratives and saying “no, our bodies are good too, actually, and i’m glad t made me look this way.” that’s not to say there isn’t also a lot of negativity toward trans men who are smaller and less hairy; no matter how we look, people will find a reason to hate our bodies because they hate us. but you really can’t put the blame on trans otters and bears who just want to send a message that our bodies aren’t bad.

if seeing positivity for trans bodies that aren’t like yours makes you dysphoric, please understand that that’s a personal thing you need to learn how to deal with and not the fault of the people who just want to feel good about their bodies as much as you do. it’s okay to want positivity for your kind of trans body and i promise you those posts are out there, but you can’t expect every single one to cater to your specific experiences.

[babyghettolove]

I'm going to re-comment this for Tumblr, but I feel lie some people are reading Curly WRONG.

TW // MENTIONS OF SA

While it is true Curly is a respectable captain, cares about his coworkers, and tries to keep peace, he is just another victim of the Bystander Effect. He is a man who falls short on his actions, when he is supposed to be keeping everyone safe and felt lead on board. It's shown he failed with Anya, whom she trusted the most, which butterflied its way into the rest of the crew.

Of course, he didn't intend to hurt the "working class". He didn't intend to make his friends/coworkers feel inferior because of his position, but he indefinitely did. Though, Jimmy was the only one to take it intense. This is the way I see Curly, and maybe how the game wanted us to see him too. Blonde, blue eyed, perfect, well-liked, like he had a halo around him at all times. Like he was just a "yes man" golden retriever type who could do more than his coworkers could. (i.e. his dreams of getting a house and being promoted after hopping off the ship, fall in love.. something his coworkers probably couldnt do, like Anya not being able to do medical school, or Daisuke doing much with his baseball career/shortcomings). Which, i feel Curly seems humble about, i.e. sticking up for the crew and telling them about them all getting fired (i dont rlly remember if Curly was going to leave/find a better job oops), wanting his friends to know he cares and wants to be there for them.

It's like he was a magnetic man who could lure in anything he wanted with nothing but a good attitude, but because he never experienced so much bad, he didn't know how to help Anya. He couldn't perceive or realize his OWN FRIEND could do that. He even tried to patch up the situation for both of them INSTEAD of siding with Anya. He couldn't in the way that he felt like he should be a go-lucky guy, a peacemaker. Like how another character I compare him to says, "You're better at delivering sad news. I'm a good news kind of guy. (Mr. Peanutbutter)." People just want to see him as happy, this go getter, this leader who did no wrong and could make everyone in a room hyped. And Curly, being played that role maybe his entire life, never figured out how to deal with severe negatives, just like with Anya's SA. It's incredibly sad, disappointing. If only he knew to take anyone accountable for their actions/to confront Jimmy, to report him, to support Anya..

He's just as guilty as Jimmy in the sense that he never spoke up. And not speaking about a crime you witness is just as big as the sin.

I love Curly, but DAMN.

Someone needs to hold him accountable too. Just because you care doesn't mean anything. Actions are truly louder than words, which were both taken from him by the time of his demise. A tragic character that could've been saved with logic.

[edelfie]

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! in her lowest era.

#summary. everyone knows hot girls exude an air of nonchalant confidence at all times. but sometimes, hot girls let the negativity of others get to them. so what is a good friend supposed to do when they have a depressed, insecure hot girl on their hands? remind her of exactly what she is of course—hot! (adverse side effects may include: heartache, enlarged ego, superiority complex, and undesired memories).

or, you have to hit rock bottom before you can reach the top—that entails reliving the moments before the worst decision of your life.

#content warning. discussion of cheating, mentions of edibles/acid, swearing, suicide jokes, Y/N is a hater (as she should be tho tbh)

— TOKYO, 5:47AM

Sometime last night, you had started crying.

The popcorn ceiling stared back at you as the fan blew lukewarm air across your face. There were tear tracks staining your face, marring it in an ugly visage of an emotion you thought you wouldn’t feel. You're certain the rims of your eyes were swollen, an ugly, angry shade of red. The same could be said about your nose and cheeks, which were warm to the touch.

There were deep imprints along your skin from the position you fell asleep in. You must've been cradling your face with your hand as you could trace dents in your forehead that aligned with your fingers. And even the morning after, you can still recall the tightening of your chest as you read Tendou’s messages. It’s a frightening emotion; sadness. And all for what?

Tendou’s words rang true within you, and while they sucked to hear it wasn’t enough to make you shed a tear. You understand where he was coming from, even if you were disappointed in yourself for not realizing it sooner. Would’ve been nice to not have wasted 10 years…

But it was what came after your conversation that truly depressed you to your breaking point. It was an offhand comment that was meant to lift you up, except it only made you spiral further.

“I don’t want to hurt you Y/N.”

Such words were often heard by you, and in your youth it severely pissed you off. You remember storming into your dorm and ranting to your roommate about receiving a similar comment. It always set you off to be perceived as fragile, someone sensitive and easy to break. Maybe that’s why people stopped telling you as you got older—then knew how sensitive you were to it.

But instead of the mildly aggravating memories of your childhood, your mind jumped to him and a stupidly ironic text he sent you just weeks ago. And so, as soon as you finished talking with Tendou, you opened the old text thread and searched for it.

If Yachi knew you still kept his number, she would give you a well-deserved scolding. You, on the other hand, prefer to keep the texts—written proof that you weren’t crazy for being as head-over-heels as you were, that none of it was fake (to your knowledge at least).

So, you laid in bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your old texts. You tried not to get choked up at the thought of leaving it all behind—all the jokes, the chemistry, the memories shared. You were not fruitful in your task.

You aren’t normally the type of person to be angsty about showing emotions. You didn't like the thought of you growing too big for your britches, either—that you gained some sort of complex of being above humanity despite have minimal success. But this felt like something childish to cry over.

The thought—no, the reminder—of crying over him of all people made you reel in disgust. To think you wasted tears on him, of all people. The same tears you shed when your family dog died, when you held your baby cousin for the first time, when you left—

He wasn't worth any of them. In fact, he wasn’t worth salt, nor the dirt at the bottom of your shoes. But that's the funny thing about emotions; they defy all logic and reasoning. You knew what you were getting into when you hooked up the first time, and then the second, and the third. And yet, you still feel the immense grief and pain of a familiar memory.

You didn’t cry nearly as hard for any of your previous breakups. Sure, you occasionally thought about the guy you dated for two years, and same with the girl who used you dry then ran. Sometimes you shed a few tears over them, but it was always in the metaphorical sense. What if I did this thing, what if they did that thing, etcetera.

It’s unfair to compare most of your past exes to the selfish man that is Miya Atsumu and the entanglement he wrapped you in. Because ever since that morning you woke up to your number blocked and his ass far away where you can’t reach him, you noticed something about him.

There was something uniquely cruel within him, and it was revealed as you saw just who he was reflecting back at you—a visage of a man who cares for nobody but himself.

There was a time in which you did consider Atsumu to be human, but you have since revoked that right. After all, he approached you looking for a good time. He claimed to want a future with you, but he must’ve been confused. And when he was done milking you like a cow, he vanished. To his richer, prettier, socially acceptable girlfriend—pardon, fiancée.

He got the luxury of whoring around with you, while painting you as the evil, manipulative temptress. Never mind the fact that they were broken up, even if him cozying up in her bed when he should’ve been next to you complicated things. Yet not a single person raised hell to call him what he was—an arrogant, insecure, pampered little boy.

And now look at him. One of Japan’s darlings, an Olympic champion, and now a soon-to-be family man. Miya Atsumu got his way, as he always does. And you were the damn fool for playing the part.

You realized in an instant what had occurred, and with it came a pain that many fail to understand. You were used, both as a shield and as a glorified sex doll. But you weren’t even good enough—worth enough—to keep around. You just had to be tossed out when you weren’t a fun, shiny new toy anymore.

Desperately did you wish these past few months were all some sick, twisted dream, which you would awake from and laugh with your friends about. You’d tell them how, in the dream, you were dating a total douchebag with a serious Madonna-Whore complex, you graciously playing the whore, of course. But at least then you could wake up and breathe in relief that it wasn’t true.

The clock on your side table ticked silently, its hour hand barely past 6. You knew you had to rise soon and begin your day, but for now you were okay with laying and wallowing in your frustration. Only when you get it out of your system will you be able to think clearly and plan ahead.

Of all the girls he could’ve picked, Miya Atsumu picked you. Unfortunately for him, you had already sworn to yourself long ago to never be taken advantage of and made a fool ever again. And he has no idea what’s coming for him.

Someone, somewhere, must’ve said something along the lines of “There is inspiration to be found all around you.” In your groggy state of mind, you couldn’t be bothered to probe further as to who the quote belonged to. What you did know was that you were bombarded by such inspiration. And if you weren’t in such a rush for work, that would almost be a good thing.

Despite your aspirations of being a globally sensationalized popstar, you were still (for the mean time) just a normal person. A normal person with a large Twitter following, but one nonetheless. The money you took in from streaming was chump change, and any gigs willing to hire you would only cover a month of rent on a good day.

To put the god-awful cherry on top, you were now without a label. While being signed was supposed to help you get more attention and produce better quality music, it didn’t translate into anything tangible. After one album and three EPs, your label dropped you, along with an inconceivable amount of debt that you now owed them. Briefly you’ve considered picking up another job or two to pay for it all, but you weren’t sure if it would actually help—you weren’t college educated after all.

Still, you moved on with your life and have dropped songs here and there over the past four years. They all did significantly worse than your previous stuff—having minimal promotion, poor sound mixing, and no cohesion between them. It was during this period that you met Yachi, Asahi, and Terushima, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Those three have saved your ass from total irrelevancy many times over, and often just out of the goodness of their hearts.

It does make you feel as though you’re using them sometimes. Even though you know they mean well by refusing to accept payment from you, you still hate the idea of being indebted to them like you are with your old label.

You have to remind yourself that they’re nice people who would never do that to you. Not when they know how you’re so broke, you’ve taken to learning how to produce your own music and bought your own microphone with money you’ve saved over the years. You’ve even picked up a side gig DJ-ing at a popular Tokyo club. That’s what the majority of your followers know you from, unfortunately.

Regardless, you stumble through your tiny studio apartment, opening the small storage closet you workshopped into an actual closet, curtesy of your landlord.

“Where the hell did I put it…” you mutter.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets as you try to pick out your apron among the mass of clothes threatening to fall off their hangers. It’s no use though—the black of your apron is bound to blend in with every other item you own.

Forcing a gap with both your arms, you hurriedly make your way through each hanger, panting at the weight pressing down on your hands. If it weren’t for the clatter of flimsy metal against wood, you likely wouldn’t have realized something fell. Gaze following the noise, you feel a pitter-patter in your heart at the sight.

The men's hoodie laid dead on your dusty floor, the number 13 across the back peeling away.

Of course he would leave it here. Was this supposed to be funny to him? Some sick, twisted mind game he was playing at you with so that he can live in your head? Or was he truly just such an airhead he didn't do his due diligence in cleaning house?

You knew it was the latter, but still...the blood boiled under your skin as you picked the hoodie up with your foot and slung it across your room as best you could. You'd rather be burned by the rays of a thousand suns than relieve the day you received it.

It took another five minutes before you found your work uniform and apron, quickly ushering yourself into your bathroom to get ready. Somehow, though, it seems the universe has it out for you today—everywhere you turned you were reminded of Atsumu, for worse.

You go to make your breakfast for once? There's leftovers of his still in the fridge. You wanted to be productive and throw out the trash before you left? Too bad, a shard of a plate he broke poked out of the bag and cut you. You go to grab your house keys by the door, fed up by this insanity? There's a matching keychain hanging off of it.

Truly, the ridiculousness of it all left you winded, slamming your door behind you before jogging down your apartment stairs. You just had to leave before it all became too much. Otherwise, then next time your coworkers saw you would be a broadcast from NHK on a woman jumping off the Tokyo Skytree.

As you approach a familiar stoplight, you relax slightly knowing the little cafe you work at is just a few blocks away. The light turns red right as you near it, forcing you to stop dead in your tracks. There are a few other people standing near you, most looking down at their phones or chatting casually.

For whatever reason though, as if you were possessed, you chose against burying your face in your phone and instead looked around the mini plaza. The buildings around you were covered in various promotional art and advertisements. It was there that you locked eyes with Miya Atsumu.

"I don't see what's so special over here." You tease, a smile tugging at your lips.

The blonde besides you cries out, "What?! It's totally the best spot in all of Tokyo!"

"And why should I believe you, 'Tsumu?"

His body moves before his mouth does, pointing directly behind and above you. You turn to look, only to be met by a giant billboard of his face.

"Because I'm in it, obviously." He's clearly proud of it by how his tone vibrates, though not quite confident as his ears are a pinkish-tinge.

You're silent for a few moments. The mammoth before you should feel mocking, as if making fun at your painful normalcy. But it doesn't. By some grace of God, Miya Atsumu is able to make you feel entirely okay with being 'normal', at least for the time being.

When you turn back towards him, he seems more nervous than before. His posture is tense, eyes searching yours while expecting disapproval. It's hard not to giggle at the way his own blow wide when you smile instead.

"Well...don't get too comfortable then, because I'll be up there next."

He laughs heartily, a sound you wish to keep inside a music box—a birdcage of your own making. You stumble forward as he swings an arm around your shoulder, leaning down to your ear.

"I'd like that, doll, but only if I'm in it with you."

The light of the crosswalk turns white, and you're sure you've never walked faster in your life.

Someone must’ve slipped an edible in your drink. That, or you’re still asleep and trapped in a bad dream. A nightmare, actually—the worst nightmare of all time possibly.

Your morning was actually rather uneventful up until this point, sans a few traumatic flashbacks. You arrived to work on time with seconds to spare, quickly tying your apron around your waist and shoving your keys and phone in the pockets. Thankfully your coworkers were kind enough to not mention your frazzled state and silently worked as you assumed your position at the register.

There was an even split of new customers and regulars—a college girl who you’ve served the same iced latte since she was in high school, a woman and her child who will fall to the floor in tears over a cake pop, and a man with the prettiest eyes behind his square glasses. You don’t have the privilege of knowing his order by heart, but the smile playing on his face makes you wish you did.

As you called out another name attached to another face in the crowd, you foolishly allowed yourself to believe today would be normal. It only took a sharp chime of the bell for that to change.

“Welcome in!” You call out the words before you look up.

You can sense the person approaching the counter, stopping a liberal distance away from yourself. They seem to not know what they want or aren't that big of a talker as the only noise you hear is the calm ambiance of the cafe. A heavy feeling of suspense washes over you at once, simultaneously willing you to look up and avoid eye contact. How weird.

Finally, you lift your gaze only to wish you never had.

(Correction: You wished, rather, that you were never born. That way you wouldn't be forced to interact with a disinterested Lia Handa as she stands before you.)

It seems Fate is a cruel mistress, and you have earned her ire today. That's fine. It's cool, even. So long as you pick the right dialogue options, you'll survive this interaction and maybe won't be turned into a gossip piece afterwards. If you weren't tripping on acid before, you definitely were now.

All your worry was misplaced, however, as Lia didn't make any comments towards you. She didn't even look in your general direction for that matter—eyes flipping between the menu and her phone with as much excitement as she could muster. None, it seems.

You suppose this is more favorable than her causing a needless scene or being overly rude and demanding. Still, it irks at you either way. The woman before you, while not your number one enemy, is certainly high up on your list. She allows her fans to harass and slander you despite herself being the homewrecker, and here she is in front of you acting...normal?

No, that's not even the word for it. She's acting as though you don't exist—and you're positive that if she even bothered to treat you as a human and not a mindless capitalist slave she would realize just who you are, and suddenly she would be acting a lot different.

She looks down at the pastry cabinet without much enthusiasm, as expected. Her eyes scanned long enough for it to be awkward before she pointed at one, forcing you to lean your head over to see the one she wanted. Oh, you hated her. Even if you didn't before, you sure as do now.

Still, you take out a small bag and reach into the cabinet to pull out the pastry. It was at that moment that Lia receives a call, cutting you off from asking her how many she wanted. She flips her hair over her should with a heavy sigh, pressing answer and holding the phone up to her ear. Her voice is lighting-quick, yet drags on long enough to be grating.

"Um, ma'am?" The words burned like a poison on your tongue. You consider ripping hers out as she doesn't glance at you, asking "What?" in thinly-veiled annoyance.

"How many do you want?"

She holds up two fingers, still talking and looking down as she fishes for her wallet in her purse. You place the bag with the pastries—cutely designed cookies you saw go viral on Instagram a few days ago—on the counter, swapping it for the credit card she placed. You briefly consider stealing her card information, but she'd surely notice and be even more pissed at you if you did. You can't go around ruining your own reputation like that!

Still, you're almost impressed at how skillfully she ignores you. It's so effectively aggravating you may have to start implementing it in your own life. After all, if you dare to complain about it to anyone else, they wouldn't understand the depth of how insulting it is. Especially as you're forced to watch her walk off, pastries in hand, while you're the only one left with any residual feelings.

Digging a hand into her brown paper bag, she balances her phone between her ear and shoulder. You notice how when she speaks in English, she talks a mile and minute, and if you were a better woman you would assume that was why she was so quiet. But you’re not, and you’re convinced she’s just a bitch.

There is a slim part of your humanity that wishes to crawl out, wishing to be fair for her sake. Maybe she’s just having a bad day, or gets shy talking in public. There are lots of people who feel more confident when posting content online versus interacting in person!

But as you watch her take a bite of that cookie, the words “Taste Me!” iced in baby blue on it, and witness as she reels in disgust and quickly spits it back out…yeah, you’re feeling like a bitch. Especially when a sentence pops into your head, as if sent down in the form of a prophecy by some higher being:

“You’ll just have to taste me when he’s kissing you.”

BLIND ITEMS! —

## this foreign-born beauty influencer was spotted at a cafe this morning trying pastries. however, from her cold demeanor towards staff to her loud talking on a not-so-important seeming phone call, it seems she lacks basic manners. the cherry on top is, of course, when she spit out her food as soon as she took a bite, right in front of the cashier. [revealed: lia handa]

## the self-proclaimed better-twin athlete seems to be living out his final bachelor days. he was caught making out with a fan at a party before downing way too many drinks to be sexy. he then proceeded to make a drunken fool of himself, much to the discomfort of everyone else. [revealed: miya atsumu]

sera_pent. NOOOOO NOT MY FAVS

kelpkelp. y is any1 surprised? lol — justagirl. ikr, as if they haven't been on an off since forever

elmosupremecy. heartless influencers being heartless influencers, shocking ! — leobaby. right, like ofc your fav is awful, they're fucking famous — garagoesgaga. as if your fav is better, yet you worship the ground she walks on — elmosupremecy. does y/n just live in your head rent free? literally get a life LMAO

read more...

NOTES! —

Hello, hello! Another day, another late post and a fundraiser. In memorial of the tragedy at Appalachian High School earlier today, our fundraiser is the Sandy Hook Promise. The Sandy Hook Promise Organization is dedicated to fighting against school-based gun violence and protecting children. You don't have to donate money to support their cause, as there are many volunteer and advocacy opportunities available to make the voices demanding meaningful change against gun violence heard. For more information on the Organization, you can visit their website here and directly donate to their cause here.

It’s come to my attention that in all my notes, I appear to be a serial yapper…I was going to make this one shorter but I changed my mind, so too bad! Anyways, this chapter was very cathartic to write LOL. I, too, was cheated on in the not-so-distant past (aka 2 years ago), but I still feel the effects of it every now and then. To me, it felt exactly as I described it within Y/N, so I hope it resonates with someone else!

Anyways, I fear the last chapter was a flop…at least in my books LOL. I promise I’m not trying to rush through anything—Y/N being insecure is not a plot point of this story, so think of her lowest low as a fruitful beginning! Hence the title LOL. Besides, I think writing text convos is my least developed skill—I’m much more in my element writing full paragraphs, which is saying something since this chapter is pretty janky at parts. So! This is a very convoluted way to say that i changed some of the screenshots towards the end of last chapter, so go back and read that if you want back in on the loop! It's nothing too serious (I think) but just some minor things. I might also change Asahi's thoughts on Y/N but likely not, since it's not really meant to be an 'accurate' reflection of her character, just how he sees her yk.

PREV + MASTERLIST + NEXT

© all rights reserved—edelfie (2024) // do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on other sites without permission

[ihopesocomic]

It's such a shame how many good brother-brother duos or sister-brother duos there are compared to sister-sister duos

I know it stems from writers always feeling the need to add a man in every woman's life

A lot of writers can only make a character who's a sister if she's a sister to a brother and it's a real shame

Honestly I think Nothing from MP is a pretty good example of that

Look at her relationship with her female siblings/cousin vs her male siblings/cousin

Fire ended up being horrible and Feather is a toxic positive "lemme make you feel bad for wanting to change your ableist name even though it literally doesnt effect me" dirtbag

But Nothing had a better relationship with vs her younger sisters/cousins

Farleap and Silentstalk bullied her and Feather's sisters thought she was weirdo though they like literally never interacted

It's just always suspicious when a writer seems to prioritize a female character's relationship with guys over her relationship with girls

Like their gender shouldn't matter but they'll always pick their male characters first

The sexism in writing still to this day is wild. Especially where so-called independent creators are concerned. Because I thought the whole point of being indie was creating stuff you wanted to see in mainstream media but didn't get, but a lot of it is just more of the same crap you get from bigger productions. So either people want more sexism, or its just baked into their brain and they don't even realize it.

A lot of better stories out there are about brothers (well, I could argue that a lot of it is lazy and that there is no point to the characters being brothers, especially when strong emotional friendships between men are practically nonexistent in media.) and anything having to do with sisters is as I said, either petty nonsense or there's no point to being sisters at all.

And then there's as you said, an inherent need by creators for women to have men be relevant in their lives when that same standard is not applied to men. You can throw a rock and hit a movie or show with a female pov where her only motivation has to do with a man. Father, son, brother, husband, boyfriend, abuser. Whatever.

That's not to say any of these are bad stories. But when its the majority of supposed woman-focused media, it loses its edge as woman-focused when the women in question are focused on men. The writers either consciously or subsconsciously don't get that women have motivations beyond men. This even happens with lesbian characters, where men should have even less relevancy? LOL And it doesn't even matter who the writers are, whether they're men/women, cis/trans, straight/gay, everyone does this. You'd expect better from queer creators but even then there's a clear preference. And they're wont to bring up that "gender shouldn't matter" but only when it pertains to asking why they're so opposed to women being the focus. Its quite interesting.

MP is in an interesting position of hating both men and women at the same time while not commenting on how the patriarchy has negative effects on both men and women. Not an easy feat but Tribble sure made it look easy. She made Feather Nothing's prime motivator for leaving the pride, and while I have my own criticisms of Nothing's "subtle" motherlyness towards Feather, that wasn't extended to the female cubs. Fire is Nothing's other motivation for leaving the pride, and then he turned out to be a wannabe dictator. Quickmane was shown to be a sympathetic and caring mate who definitely wasn't homophobic, but had no qualms about killing children. And then there's alllllll the women who are meant to be oppressed to the same extent as Nothing, but they all somehow manage to be even worse because the narrative wants us to side with them.

And even Nothing's abusive relationship with Quickmane as we've stated in our review is arguably less fucked up than the relationship she has with her own mother. Because we know what they think about each other, and Powerstrike still insists that Nothing's existence is a burden on her soul or whatever. Like what the fuck is up with that?? I'm sure they could've made Powerstrike less-bad than Quickmane, was this some sort of weird equalizer of the sexes? And you can count Nothing's relationship with Sharptongue if you're so inclined to, but even if you ignore everything else she did, Sharptongue would still be the only positive female influence in Nothing's life. But not a key motivator in Nothing's story. Like not even a little bit.

[saturnsbabyboii]

💮Random Astro Notes, Answering Questions and a lil Rant💮

🪷The house that Saturn resides in can tell us what items we have been more careful and gentle with. To name a few, people with Saturn in 3rd house may have their books degrade faster, and their phones break often. Saturn in 4th need to be careful with their furniture, photos, kitchen, and even their entire home. Saturn in 7th may lose or damage their jewelry. Saturn in 11th may electronics break and malfunction.

🪷The house that Scorpio and Pluto reside in gives us some insight into how/where we are mistreated, misunderstood, taken advantage of, and perhaps even abused. However, it’s also where you’ll eventually come on top. If you thought Saturian karma doesn’t play then wait until you see Plutonian karma. Unlike Saturn, it is public and done indirectly. Because it’s the house of death (symbolically more than literally) and transformation, Pluto works slowly but on a large scale. Just like tectonic plates, they're slow and great. It may very well (especially for Scorpio) happen after your death or in a different lifetime. 

🪷The Pisces paradox of being obsessed with yourself and taking pictures 24/7 and also desiring to escape your mortal flesh

🪷Side bar but I love how the sign of most season winners and of miss congeniality on Ruapul Drag Race is Taurus followed by Libra. It makes for Venusians to dominate a beauty competition show.

🪷Leo and Libra placements are obsessed with having an aesthetic. They drown themselves in whatever they find beautiful, and they do it well.

🪷I never understood the obsession with spouse, wealth, fame, and indicators in the chart. To me personally, when it comes to these subjects is that if you aren't actively trying to have or working in whichever way that suits you and seems the most effective, you won't attain it. How are you getting anything without putting an effort into it?

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Questions Asked:

🌸@brielledoesastrology thank you for the message, but I don't want to tell people about my chart 😅. I like to be as impartial as I can when it comes to doing astrology. I do it to help people and for fun not for fame or any gratification. It may seem dramatic but I swear it's easier when people don't know 😭

🌸 @spixcyy "Can I ask if you're gay?"

It's giving (Yes, I am very colorful and zesty)

🌸 Question from @iproposedtoyomamaandshesaidyes: “Heyy wassup bro how’s everything? I have Chiron in Leo is that a good placement?” 

Heyy, I am good thank you and I hope you’re healthy and happy. Well, it depends on what we mean by “good”. In terms of the role of Chiron in Leo’s role in your trauma and healing. 

Here are some of my interpretations of Chiron in Leo:

Sensitivity to your sense of person

Having limited self expression or authenticity (The house Chiron resides in can indicate where, how, and in some cases by whom.)

Being forced into the collective and not allowed to have a sense of independence

Individuality and unbecoming is a major life themes/struggles (regardless of the house)

Problems with self esteem, courage, vitality, creativity, and originality

Having a hard time accepting your possibilities and fearing success

Fear of disappointing role model/guide 

Pressure from an early age for living a prodigy

Having to play a “role” or a character for a large portion of your early years

Trouble feeling that you do not have a central purpose or reason for existing

Difficulty understanding what it is you are ‘supposed’ to be doing with your life, yet having an overwhelming sense that you are supposed to be doing something.

Excessive rebellion or conformity 

Healing and Moving on:

Learning to be content

Finding yourself as you move along life

Accepting that you won’t find instant solutions and results

Allowing yourself to grow 

Forgiving yourself for being the person you were and needed to be

Helping others embrace their qualities (especially those that are viewed negatively by society) will help accept yourself

Leading with love and compassion, not detachment

As Chiron is the great healer that can’t heal his wound, your life purpose is:

To lead by example

Break the mold

Be the new “normal”

Perseverance

Act as a leader of the collective rather than be part of the group

Depending on the themes of the house Chiron resides in, you’ll work as a great motivator and healer in that aspect of life.

Hope this was of any help and thank you for your question.

🌸 @astro-lab asked :” So what is “the other Lilith” that comes with every chart? Which one is more relevant? How are they related?”

There are four asteroids that are part of Lilith. 

- First, we have the Black Moon Lilith or Mean Lilith (h12), which is the most commonly used and referred to when people say “Lilith”. This is the one that is usually used in birth chart tools you find online.

The others are Asteroid Lilith (1181), True/Osculating Lilith (h13), and lastly, we have Dark Moon Lilith/ Waldemath Black Moon (h58).

Mean Lilith uses the average orbit of the theoretical Black Moon. This is why she is called Mean Lilith. “Mean” refers to the average, not her temperament. For True Lilith, her orbit oscillates or interchanges constantly. This Lilith uses the actual, real orbit of the Black Moon rather than the average in comparison. As for Dark Moon Lilith, some people have claimed to have seen this Moon, although its existence is debatable. Asteroid Lilith is the only Lilith that is an actual astronomical body.

In terms of their relevancy and importance depends on what areas of life are you looking to get insight from. Like other asteroids, they can shed light on things we tend to overlook. However, when it comes to Lilith, in general, these are things that we feel but never understand period. 

The Mean Lilith is widely used because it takes the average orbit of Lilith and its mystic influence astrologically. In the birth chart, it represents the unconscious mirages that we create to protect our most vulnerable parts and deepest fears. Where we tend to be mistreated the most as Lilith had been and how can we fall victim to others but also heal, transform, and regain that power.

True Lilith in contrast is what we might now refer to as “your villain origin story”. This is where we find ourselves pushing the boundaries of ourselves and others. Our darker instincts and desires. 

Asteroid Lilith is where and how we embody Lilith through the chart and in our everyday life.

I hope I was able to explain it well but thank you so much for your question 💕

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That's it, thank you for the questions and for reading.

Adios PUTAAASSSS

[legend-as-old-as-time]

Inspired by @muaka-safari's analysis of Vakama's relation to anger.

My hypothesis: Nokama, while stressed too about fulfilling her duty, has a different core issue in relation to it. Rather than the aspect of fulfilling a command by her leader, she constantly thinks of her behavior. For her, her conduct is part of her duty.

She has to act a certain way. She has to be in a certain way, or she is failing.

Which makes sense. She is a teacher, after all. She has to be a role model for her students. But what if it went deeper than that?

Nokama puts a lot of stock in order, reflecting her Metru and the vahki assigned to this metru: The bordakh. These vahki carry staffs of loyalty that instill uncompromising desire for social order.

Official material depicting in-universe information describes Ga-Metru in a very flattering light. It's the city's spiritual center and said to be favored by Mata Nui himself.

None of the Ga-Metru hold any jobs in terms of repair, manifacturing, or engineering. Matoran from other Metru do these jobs for them. Ga-Metru is privileged.

But like with everything in Metru Nui, this is only one side. The side most would think about first, whether as good or bad. The other one of this reputation means that all ga-matoran must be peaceful, right? They are orderly, spiritual, wise, etc. Otherwise Mata Nui wouldn't love their Metru as much.

Ooof. Of course, some would feel arrogant about that. But mostly, that'd be a lot of pressure. If you're the favorite of the city's most important person - your God - then you have to show it that you're showing reasons why you're the favorite? And keep it up all the time?

I doubt all ga-matoran took it that deeply to heart, but some of them likely did. They have to act responsibly. Among them is Nokama.

Remember what I said farther up in the post that she thinks she has to act in and be a certain way? We see it regularly.

Nokama in the movie and in the movie's novelization [[gave the Po-Matoran a sharp look. “Your negativity pollutes this sanctuary, builder.”]]

She snaps at Matau and tells him they have to take their duties as toa seriously.

She scolds herself after she argues with Vakama in the Archives. Never mind that it's a genuinely stressful situation and the others barely ever consider that they themselves need to make an effort to argue less. In my reading it felt like she deemed it more a moral failing of hers rather than a practical concern?

She tries to mentor Vakama and steer him into the direction of being leader. We're never given a concrete in-universe reason. (Out-of-universe, the writers clearly pushed the fire toa into the leader role.) But maybe Nokama saw it as her duty and responsibility to keep teaching in the one way she could, if she wouldn't teach matoran anymore? (Not to mention that's the only connection to her old life that she still has.)

She asserts that she's a toa in the comics when Nidhiki mocks her, Matau, and Vakama to be overgrown matoran.

Feeling rejected by the Great Temple when she enters it as Toa Hordika deals a heavy blow to her. She feels impure, as if she's longer fit as she is to serve the Great Spirit in his regard.

She has a rage breakdown, yelling that "She's still a toa!"

On the other end, Nokama notably has moments as Toa Hordika, while she's trying to calm down and find stability with Gaaki's help, where she doesn't seem to care about her previous high standards anymore. She feels tempted to give into her hordika side and is much more reckless, less thinking about how she acts as a toa.

She also makes an effective and chaotic team with Matau. As @crystaltoa pointed it out, they both are now "hold my beer" types, while they act about each other as "I can't take you anywhere with me!"

As if the transformation into a hordika beast, which looks nothing like a toa's supposed to, has freed Nokama from a great weight.

(@crystaltoa She might still think back on the Great Temple, however, and wonder if the stain on her from being transformed into a Toa Hordika remains.)

[hyperblue]

Everyday I scroll through your blog just to remember what happiness is.

Also, I did have an actual question or request(?) I suppose, I want, NEED more details about your specific AU with Wendy and Jackie, what fo they enjoy? How often do they fight with their fathers? What do they grow up to be??? You've said before that Jack is scared of his powers, so does this result in him going out and having a 'normal' life? How would that affect his relationships with his family?

Of course you don't have to answer but I am very curious!

hello there!! I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying my blog, thank you for your kind words 💙

and yes i will gladly answer your questions! this will probably get a bit long, i hope that's okay with you

au's mainly focused on twins when they are around 17-18 (kind of symbolic to tim's age when he cloned them because I'm prosy like that)

one of the main reasons why I've decided to go for twins in this au (aside from being indecisive about whether it should be a boy or a girl) is because it gives me a chance to demonstrate how two people can have same upbringing/surrounding and be influenced by the very same group of people AND still form entirely different perspectives and opinions on certain things. i'm going to use both kids' relationships with kon as one of the clearest examples:

wendy appreciates kon dearly, she thinks very high of him and constantly seeks for his company and attention. on the other hand, as she gets older, it becomes really awkward for her to be around him because she's old enough now to actually understand and pear wiggle the whole "my dad cloned me out of this dead dude's dna without his consent" thing in her head, until she has to stop for a moment and go: "wow. that was So Not Okay of my dad." on top of that she's facing a major identity crisis because you know, teens, and starts to question her own existence and even tim's love for her, because she can't be sure now if he actually loves her or if she's just a good enough replacement of what her dad could have loved, but never got an actual chance. which eventually leads to her bottling up lots of anger towards tim, because obviously it's his fault that she can't look kon in the eyes anymore, and none of this would've happened if he just had his shit together and didn't try to clone kon all those years ago (and she's not even entirely wrong)

what she CAN'T fathom just yet is the fact that she loves kon so much partly because she got to see him through tim's eyes; part of her affection for kon is deeply rooted in a way tim spoke about him when she was a kid, always loving, always in awe — essentially, tim was the first person who taught wendy the concept and the feeling of love. and even her awkwardness and guilt that she's experiencing around kon are inherited from tim; she's just mirroring her dad's own feelings about himself without even realizing it

jackie, on the other hand... it would be easy to say that he's just not as close with kon as his sister, but when you start to look at the reasons, well, it gets a little bit messy. you see, jackie was always a "daddy's boy"; he and tim were inseparable when jackie was a kid, they still are, actually, it's just that tim only now starts to realize negative side effects of their closeness but that's for another post. not only that, he's also much more... observant than wendy in a lot of ways, so while wendy was soaking in tim's affection for kon as a sponge to eventually make it her own, jackie couldn't help but notice how hard it was for his dad to have kon in his life only as a co-parent and nothing more (they've bended their friendship as years went by, but it was never easy for both of them); not to mention that tim, to this day, experiences a very severe depressive episodes, to the point of not being able to get out of bed — jackie was very affected by it too growing up. so to him, as of now, it doesn't make sense for kon to stick around and be his usual "weekend dad" if he's not willing to stay forever, and he's kind of resentful towards kon, because he always felt sorry for tim in this situation. not that he doesn't understand why exactly it's the way that it is, it's just that his philosophy on that matter is: if you can't stay forever, do not bother visiting us at all, and stop giving dad any hope for more. jackie's anxiety regarding his kryptonian powers also does not help at all, more on that later

(got carried away with this, sorry, i just had to take this opportunity to explain why there are twins in my timkon clone baby au)

so about the kids, wendy is a rebellious soul and free spirit, and her interests really show that about her — she's been horse riding since she was five, tim was a bit hesitant about it at first, but with damian's help they managed to convince him that everything is going to be okay; damian has also bought wendy her own horse, the one she's connected with in her equestrian club (damian is her favorite uncle ever since; she did not let him call her horse a "Bathourse", tho). aside from that she plays guitar just a little, tim's also tried to teach her piano but ended up failing miserably; he also wasn't able to pass on to her his music taste, wendy is almost strictly a pop girl. she's not really good at photography from professional point of view, but she almost always has her little digital camera with her to take snapshots of memories

(she's also really into true crime videos/podcasts, it's one of the activities that she likes to share with her dad; most times after a fight with tim, if she wants to make up or apologize, she just sneaks into his office and starts playing random true crime youtube video at full volume)

jackie doesn't really have a "main" interest or hobby, even though he's passionate about a lot of things, some of them include: art (because damian), sports (although he's not playing himself), cars (because tim), photography (once again, tim), also I'm pretty sure he's good at math — a little bit of this, a little bit of that, as he himself would say. it could create a major problem for him to choose between college programs if he hadn't already decided that he is going to inherit drake industries, so business it is. tim actually had a whole conversation with him, like, "are you SURE that's what you want," resulting in jackie just. shrugging his shoulders, because it's just about as good as any other choice; not that he has some big, special dream anyway. also i think that he probably skipped a class (wendy did not; she's not too excited about going to college)

speaking about jackie being scared of his powers, it's most likely the result of an accident/series of accidents from his childhood when he unwillingly hurt tim or demolished something during tantrums (he used to throw them a lot when he was younger); kon has offered his help at figuring out how to control it, of course, but if for wendy it was existing and she wanted to get even stronger and make more progress, for jackie it was always about keeping it at bay so to not hurt anyone else. he never really wanted to become a vigilante either, which is good enough for tim because he's worried enough about wendy rushing to the field; he's as close at being a civilian as you can possibly get while growing up with bats and having a kryptonian dad. mostly it's a relief for his family ("at least one of us is going to graduate college"), although wendy can't stop bugging him about joining in and being the coolest vigilante twins gotham has ever seen. it's a bit isolating for him, sure, considering that everyone in his family is a superhero of some sort, but with tim mostly being a stay at home dad and only managing comms every once in a while it turned out better than it could

it DID get long, and i start to lose the train of thoughts; nevertheless, i hope you'll enjoy this answer 💙 feel free to ask more about them, I'm always up to chatting about my babies

[inoreuct]

zosan angst 👀 post whole cake island where zoro is mad for sanji not relying on him enough to help with his family drama. swears to become a better man for him. sanji thinks zoro is the ideal man (he’ll never tell him this though) and doesn’t have to deal with his family drama bc he can “solve it himself” they fight, their screams are heard by the whole ship who is all negatively effected by it. they come to the point of throwing punches (something sanji would never do outside of this intense monent). zoro grabs sanji by them shirt, gets sanji down on his knees, and is hitting him in the face. sanji stops hitting him back and breaks down crying, zoro sees this and stops being angry instantly.

“why can’t you just let me help you”, zoro wants to understand.

sanji’s sobs echo through the room his nose running with blood and tears, “ i never thought i was worthy of being saved.”

zoro’s eyes widen. sanji gasps out through tears, “im sorry”.

something breaks within zoro, he kneels to sanji’s level, and holds him tightly as he sobs into his neck

“i’m sorry too. you are worth more to me than you could ever think.”

zoro take’s sanji’s face into his rough calloused hands, wiping away the blood and tears, “let me me be there for you”.

i swear this prompt grabbed my brain cells and SPRINTED bcs this was slightly more than 1.6k words,,, thank you anon 🤭��🏼

Zoro catches a heel to the jaw, lets it whip his head to the side and rolls as he hits the deck. 

His blood is a metallic bloom in his mouth, rose-red as it splatters across the planks and drips from his chin. He’s half sure he just lost a tooth. He’s very sure he bit his tongue. 

He thinks he rather deserves this pain, even if he’s not exactly sure why.

It had started when they were back on the Sunny, after the whole shitshow on Whole Cake Island; Zoro had paced about the deck, strung tight as a tripwire, still itching with the urge to look over his shoulder and around the corners and unwilling to take his hand off Wado’s hilt.

He’d retreated to the men’s quarters alone, too wound up to seek out Sanji’s usual company as waited his turn for the shower and then scrubbed until his skin turned raw. He’d changed into clean clothes and lay down on his bed, put his hands behind his head, tried to breath in time with the gentle rocking of the ocean and found something still binding his lungs tight.

He was safe. They were safe. And yet, it had still felt like his skin was crawling. 

After tossing and turning for a good twenty minutes he’d given up trying to fall asleep and hauled himself out of bed, trudging to the galley for a glass (or a bottle, more like) of whatever liquor he could get his hands on. The ship had swayed as he’d grabbed a half-filled bottle of scotch, bumping the door shut properly with his hip because he knew Sanji was finicky about it.

He’d hesitated before going back to the shared cabin. His bed hadn’t been the only one empty, and there was cigarette smoke rising from the helm. 

Sanji had barely reacted when he’d settled beside the cook, elbows propped on the railing as he took a swig of his drink. It went down easy; everything Sanji had always did. Some nights Zoro found himself wishing for more of a burn if only to help him feel something. 

He’d eyed Sanji out of the edge of his vision, tongueing behind his canines as he noticed the way the cook’s hair was all over his face, more so than usual. Both his eyes— no, not his eyes, Zoro had realised. Both his eyebrows were covered—

And it had sunk in slowly, like a lead weight to the bottom of the ocean. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he’d muttered, half to the mouth of his bottle, and Sanji had sighed.

“What do you mean, marimo?”

“You know what I mean.”

And Sanji had. He’d tilted his head, taking in a bracing breath, lips pinched in something that was supposed to be a smile. “Not your battle to fight.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Zoro had snarled, suddenly angry, and it made him dig his nails into the peeling paper label beneath his fingers. “You— We do this shit together, curly, that’s what we agreed—”

And Sanji had turned away silently, pushing off the railing and walking off to God knew where, and Zoro had grabbed his wrist before he’d realised what he was doing.

“Do you just not trust me?” he’d gritted, desperation sharpening his tongue, a little voice wailing in his head and sounding a bit too much like his younger self for his liking. 

Sanji had barked a laugh, burning his cigarette down to a stub in one long inhale. “Now that’s bullshit.”

“Then? What?” I’d do anything, is what he hadn’t said. Anything for you to let me in. Let me help. 

“It’s not your fight, alright? Just leave it.”

Zoro had wanted to scream, just a little. He’d been distantly aware that his grip was in danger of crushing the bottle but he hadn’t cared at all. Sanji had shoved him away when he hadn’t let the matter go (because how could he?), and he’d shoved back, and then it had escalated until they were fighting across the deck and now—

He snaps out of his head when Sanji screams, a ragged thing torn out of his chest, abandoning all reason to tackle him bodily to the ground. Zoro stumbles and hits the deck hard, pain flaring sharp as his elbow jams into the ground and a fist sinks into his gut. He’s snarling as he rolls them over, as he pins Sanji’s wrists to the ground and lets out a grunt when a kneecap catches him beneath the ribs.

“Why can’t you just stay out of it?!” Sanji yells, right in his face, hair a mess and eyes wilder than Zoro has ever seen up close.

He falters. Just for a moment, but it’s more than enough for Sanji to slip out of his grip and wriggle away, and the pit in his gut grows ever larger. “They hurt you! They were hurting you!” he roars, scrambling to his feet, and it rather feels like someone has a crushing hand wrapped around his heart.

“It doesn’t matter!” the cook cries, swinging a fist towards his face, and Zoro dodges. Sidesteps, slams a foot down behind Sanji’s kneecaps and slugs his knuckles across a pale cheek if only to snap Sanji out of whatever the fuck is going on, he raises his fist again and—

Freezes. Bile crawls up his throat as his heart sinks. Sanji’s eyes are wet, so blue they’re nearly glowing in the darkness, and Zoro is so, so tired. He vaguely registers the rest of the crew behind them and he angles his body to hide Sanji from view; he knows the cook would hate their nakama seeing him like this. The hand he has wrapped in Sanji’s collar loosens, falling away like fluttering paper, and he drops to his knees with a heavy thunk.

Sanji shudders, and Zoro feels sick. His — he doesn’t know what they are, but Sanji is his — cook’s cheekbone is already bruising, blooming purple-pink, and guilt sinks its claws into his stomach. “Why can’t you just let me help you?” he hears himself plead, breathless and choked, and Sanji smiles with blood across his teeth.

“Because I never thought I was worthy of being saved,” he whispers, looking down at his trembling hands. There are tears dripping off his chin now, luminous streaks down his face that suddenly looks haggard in the starlight. “And I never wanted you to see me like this.”

Zoro thinks he breaks. Shatters right apart like the bottle of scotch on the ground not far away from them, amber seeping sticky into the wood. He’d have to apologise to Franky later, he thinks a little wildly, throat tight and fingers numb as he reaches out to pull Sanji to him.

The cook goes slack like a puppet off strings, hiding his face in the crook of Zoro’s neck as he really starts to cry. Zoro sits back on his heels and takes his weight, cards a hand through his hair so that it doesn't stick because he knows that Sanji would make a fuss about it being all over his face later, and it’s these tiny, trivial things that wrench a hollow sound from his lungs. “There’s no such thing as it not being my fight, you hear me?” It comes out more watery that he likes, but the laugh-sob Sanji lets out tells him the message got across. “If it’s your fight, it’s my fight. I’m with you till the end no matter what happens.”

“It’s pathetic,” Sanji hiccups, shoulders hitching as he tries to get himself under control.

“No, it’s not.”

“I’m pa—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Zoro hisses, at odds with the way he rubs a soothing palm over Sanji’s back. His knees are starting to hurt. He doesn’t care. “They hurt you. They put you through some fucked-up shit, cook, and then you had to go through it again. And you were strong enough to make it out but you— You could stand to give it a rest, alright?”

It’s times like this when he wishes he could be better with words, because Sanji looks a little like he might start crying all over again when Zoro takes a peek at his face. He presses his thumbs flat to wet skin, salt cooling in the night wind, dragging up along Sanji’s cheek as the cook sniffs. “Let me be there for you,” he rasps.

He feels like he’s been scraped raw from the inside out. Like someone had hollowed him out with a ladle and now his guts were spilling all across the deck. He doesn’t know how to describe the twisting in his chest when he thumbs rust-red iron away from Sanji’s bottom lip, regretfully cups the spill of colour spreading over the right side of his face. “Look at me?” he tries again, and Sanji does, fine lashes clumped with tears and inhale trembling. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, and Zoro is an open wound, raw and weeping as Sanji climbs into his lap and curls up into a ball. 

“You are worth so much. To the crew, to our friends—You’re worth more to me than you could ever know. So shut up and stop trying to deal with it alone,” he says in lieu of a reply, achingly quiet. He hopes it’s enough as Sanji digs lithe fingers into his shoulder. 

He welcomes the pain like an old friend. Bears it gladly, for if he could take all of Sanji’s he would. 

But he can’t— So he tries. Tries to be gentle, as much as he knows how, sits properly and folds his legs and rocks them back and forth because it helps Sanji’s breathing even out. Traces the spirals of his eyebrows and brushes his mouth over the bruise on his cheek, presses his silent apologies into skin.

Sanji’s spine bows beneath his hands, and the cook’s fingers are wound tight into the back of his shirt like it’s a lifeline. His pale hair tickles Zoro’s jaw, impossibly mussed and starting to curl with the sea air. Their crew is waiting. Worried, surely, but they can wait a little longer; Zoro will make it up to them.

For now, he thinks he and Sanji have earned this. 

fin.

[risingshards]

Something I really like in Rebuild the Galaxy (the fun new lil Lego Star Wars miniseries) is how it echoes (probably not intentionally) Templar Games' Bionicle Mata Nui Online Game in the theme of building vs. destroying, taking an aspect of Lego play and putting it into the story.

In MNOG, Gordon Klimes from Templar described how they made Makuta the embodiment of destruction:

“'The void' above Makuta is indeed a swirling mass of lego pieces, though it's not supposed to be representative of his true form. Makuta is chaos and nihilism, Mata Nui is order and creativity.”

“For me Makuta represents the destructive aspect of playing with Lego. You would build something and then destroy it in order to build something new. Makuta is a maelstrom of swirling pieces, he represents the pile on the floor that all lego creations come from and will eventually return to.”

“Good and evil just wasn’t good enough any more. It didn’t make any sense any more. But this was okay, because from the beginning, that’s not what it was about. The Makuta wasn’t evil, and his brother, Mata Nui, wasn’t good.”

“We knew that while building was fun, it was just as much fun to destroy. They were two sides of the same coin, and neither were wrong: it was all part of the play, part of learning, part of having fun. Not good or evil: Creation and Destruction, equal powers in the universe, natural and necessary. Both good. Both bad. Both neither. It’s true, we’d painted Destruction a bit negatively - using words like “Infected” Mask, or “Monsters,” but we’d needed the conflict.”

“So the Makuta, for all its darkness and danger, was not evil after all, and he says as much at the end. The final act was the confrontation, not between Good and Evil, which was meaningless, but between Creation and Destruction, where everything comes from nothing, and goes back to it, eventually. This was the struggle between the Toa and the Rahi, and Mata Nui and Makuta, and a LEGO fan and her kid brother, building and smashing happily, in equal measure. Our world had gone a bit mad, but to us, this helped make some sense of it. We wanted to share what small comfort it brought.”

Rebuild the Galaxy uses something similar, having Jedi Builders against Sith Destroyers feeling like it takes the act of playing with Lego part of the story, which is really fun. And if something's gonna be effectively a toy commercial, I'd rather it be fun and light about it. The people working on it definitely have a lot of love for Lego, and it showed throughout the miniseries.