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bloatedandalone04 · 2 months ago

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Dirty Little Secret

➪the one where you and tyler are in a secret relationship.

Warnings: smut, fluff, oral (both f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, hair pulling, dirty talk, lowkey pain kink

Word Count: 2.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Yours and Tyler’s relationship was rather simple.

You and he were together, officially, but secretly.

In an attempt to not make things super fucking awkward or weird for the others, you and Tyler decided to keep your relationship a secret, and for the most part it was working quite well.

Originally, you started out as just friends. You were both content with that for a while, until it became very obvious that it wasn’t nearly enough for either of you. So you tried one date with him, and the rest was history.

With that being said, the crew were all very close to each other, but no one had crossed romantic boundaries. Except for you and Tyler, but no one knew. In fear of things going wrong or the two of you breaking up (though it was becoming more and more clear that you and Tyler were in this for the long haul), the decision to have a secret relationship was a mutual one.

But, fuck was it hard to do sometimes.

Another day, another successful chase.

Tyler had been in the truck for a good portion of the day, so he was happy to stretch his legs as he stood in the lot with you, Boone, Dexter, Lilly and Dani in front of him. Ben had already gone off to his room at the motel, since the way Tyler drove had made him sick or something like that.

His eyes met yours for a brief second before he looked over at Lilly. “How were the numbers today, Lil?”

Lilly scrolled through her phone as she read the statistics of their most recent stream, a sly grin on her face when she looked up. “One of our highest watched streams yet,” she answered, giving Boone a fist bump as the two of them fell into a conversation.

Tyler nodded, a content smile on his face as everyone wandered off towards their respective rooms. His hand brushed along your lower back as he passed by you on his way to his own room, a knowing look on his face that was similar to the one on yours.

Once he was in his room, the countdown was on. You and he had a plan; wait for everyone to go their separate ways, wait exactly seven minutes because five was too soon, then you would quickly knock on his door four times so he could let you in and ravish you all night without the peering eyes of the others.

Tyler shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the chair before leaning against the desk, his eyes on his watch as he silently counted down the minutes until he would hear your knock, then have you back in his arms - where you belonged.

Exactly seven minutes later, four quiet knocks sounded on the other side of the door, and Tyler was already moving. He swung the door open and pulled you inside immediately, kicking the door shut behind you. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, reaching for your hips as he pushed you against the wall beside the door. His lips found yours in a deep, heated kiss that pretty much showed you just how much he had missed you today, despite being near you the whole time. Pretending like you were just his friend was a fucking hard task. “I’ve been waitin’ for this all damn day. Missed you so much.”

His fingers slid the bottom of your shirt up a bit before his hands grabbed the skin of your waist, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip as he pressed you more firmly against the wall.

“I know we can’t show it out there, but in here? Fuck, you’re all mine,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt.

You moaned softly against his mouth and tangled your fingers in his hair. “Technically I’m yours out there too,” you murmured, “Just secretly.”

Tyler groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he ground his growing erection against you. “I love you so much, baby,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses along your jawline, down your neck and on your throat as he pulled your shirt off, tossing it aside carelessly. “You’re so goddamn perfect, sweetheart. I wanna show you off to the world, but this works too.”

You grinned against his lips when he leaned back in and kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your body to unclasp your bra. “I love you too,” you said back, threading your fingers through his hair as his hands groped at your bare chest. “Take me to bed, Ty.”

Tyler’s hands reached down and gripped your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly and carrying you over to the bed. His lips trailed all over your chest, his tongue running along your nipples before he moved lower. His fingers unzipped your jeans and tugged them down your legs, your panties following quickly after as he groaned at the sight of your dripping core. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, teasing your folds with his index and middle fingers as his body settled between your thighs. “Want me to taste this pretty pussy?”

You whined, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked down at him. “Yes. Please,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers brushed along the undersides of your breasts as you subtly bucked your hips closer towards his mouth. “Please.”

Tyler smirked up at you, his mouth pressing soft kisses all along your thighs. “So fuckin’ hot, baby,” he grunted, leaning in to kiss your clit as his tongue poked out to lick at your folds. When your familiar taste coated his mouth, he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs as he buried his face between your legs. He flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit, circling it and sucking on it as he devoured you like a starved man. “Mm, fuck yes.” He mumbled against your quivering slit, his fingers digging into your soft thighs as he focused his attention on your puffy bundle of nerves.

“Ty,” you gasped, falling back onto the bed as you spread your legs wider for him. Your fingers tugged on his hair, gently pulling on the light strands as he touched you and tasted you in the way you’d been craving all day. When he sucked harshly on your clit, you moaned rather loudly as you slowly ground against his face. “Fuck, it’s so good.”

Tyler groaned against your pussy, his tongue working overtime as he lapped at your sweet taste. “You taste so perfect, sweetheart,” he praised, the sting of your relentless tugging on his hair going straight to his cock. Two of his fingers slipped inside your core easily, pumping them in and out of you as his lips brushed along your lower stomach. “That’s it, baby.”

“Fuck, just like that,” you cried out, pulling harder on his hair as your back arched. “You’re so good at this, Ty…fuck, I’m so lucky.”

Tyler grinned against your skin, feeling the way you tightened around his fingers. “Gonna make you cum so hard, sweet girl,” he mumbled, curling his fingers deep inside you. “Wanna feel this tight pussy squeeze me.”

Your moans grew louder at his dirty words, and he knew they would. In the many months he’s been with you, Tyler had discovered that you had a thing for dirty talk, and he had a thing for coaxing those sweet sounds out of your mouth, so he was more than happy to indulge in your fantasies.

When your thighs began to shake, he knew you were there, so he sped up the pace of his fingers and sucked on you a bit harder. “Cum for me,” he mumbled against your clit. “Wanna taste you.”

“Fuck…fuck,” you cried out, giving his hair one last tug before you came hard. Your back arched even more as your eyes squeezed shut, your moans growing louder to the point where Tyler wasn’t entirely convinced your secret relationship was still a secret.

Tyler moaned at your taste, cleaning you up greedily as he worked you through your high. “There you go, baby. Cum all over my face,” he cooed and didn’t stop until he felt your body go limp, your breathing heavy and ragged as you tried to catch your breath. He pressed a final, much more gentle kiss to your overstimulated clit before standing up from the bed, keeping his eyes on yours as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Best fuckin’ taste in the world.”

You whimpered as you weakly pushed yourself up and leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips as you reached down to pull off his belt. Your fingers hastily unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, along with his boxers, moaning softly at the way he kissed you a bit harder.

Your fingers brushed along his abs through his shirt as you pulled away and moved to lay down on your stomach, your head at level with his hips as you looked up at him. “Take this off, baby,” you mumbled before gripping the base of his cock and wrapping your lips around just the tip.

Tyler’s hands quickly grabbed the end of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside to find later. His chest was heaving a bit, his abs tensing as he tangled his fingers in your hair, his palm resting against the back of your head. “Fuck,” he muttered, the feeling of your warm, tight mouth around his throbbing dick making him let out harsh breaths. “So fuckin’ good.”

Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head up and down, coating him in a thin layer of your spit as you looked up at him through your lashes. Your hand stroked what couldn’t fit into your mouth, your other one gripping his hip and silently encouraging him to thrust gently.

He let out deep groans, tightening his hold on your hair as his hips started to thrust shallowly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted, refraining from just fucking your face like he wanted to. “Your mouth is fuckin’ perfect.”

When you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper, Tyler knew he wouldn’t last long. He gently guided you off him, his thumbs stroking your jaw as he leaned down and kissed you sweetly.

“I wanna fuck you, baby,” he mumbled, helping you to your knees before he spun you around and bent you over the bed. Guiding your legs apart, Tyler gripped your hips as he slowly pushed inside of you. He groaned at the tight stretch of your soaked core around him, giving you a few seconds to adjust before he pulled nearly all the way out, only to thrust back in again.

“Ty,” you gasped, fisting the sheets as your body jolted forward once he set a hard, fast pace. Your hair was a mess, your eyes rolled back as he fucked you from behind. It was more than clear that you both needed this after going the entire day without so much as a brush of your hands.

Yours and Tyler’s love language was touch, so having to be around each other all day but not be able to touch? Yeah, that resulted in exactly what was happening right now in this motel room.

The bed creaked under the fast pace of Tyler’s hips, but he had to go hard, because you were gripping him like you never wanted to let him go. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So perfect,” he grunted, tightening his hold on your hips to hold you in place. He leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back as he kissed all along your shoulder and jaw. When one of his hands reached around you to brush along your throbbing clit, you moaned a bit louder, and Tyler smirked. “You like that, baby? Like when I fuck this tight pussy?”

Your head fell forward, your face pressing against the comforter as you nodded helplessly, murmuring a slurred chant of ‘yes’. The headboard knocked against the wall and mixed well with the sound of Tyler’s hips hitting yours over and over again. “I love it,” you finally managed to say, your legs shaking despite you being completely supported by the bed. “God, Ty…harder. Please, I need it.”

Tyler groaned, fucking into you even faster and deeper than before. “Are you gonna cum for me again?” He rasped, rubbing harsh circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, sweet girl, give it to me.”

You let out a soft, quiet scream as you cum for the second time, your moans muffled by the sheets. Tyler didn’t relent, his hips hitting yours as he fucked you through your high. His fingers were gripping you so tight, holding you firmly in place as he felt himself get impossibly closer, and a few seconds later, he was there too.

He grunted deeply, weakly thrusting in and out of your pulsing pussy as jets of white painted you as his own. “Fuck,” he whispered, leaning over you again as he panted against your neck. “Christ, baby…”

A soft laugh left your mouth as you let him practically crush you against the bed. “I guess you can say I kinda fucking missed you,” you offered with a lazy smile, still trembling a bit.

“I think that’s an understatement,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your damp skin. “I missed you too, sweetheart. I swear, I’ll never get enough.” His words were sweet now as he slowly pulled out of you, cradling you against his chest as he moved to lay down on the bed.

“You better not,” you grinned, cuddling against him as the motel room fell quiet again.

“I won’t. Promise,” he said quietly, rubbing your back as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “By the way, you were kind of loud. Do you think they know now?”

You hummed and shrugged, tangling your legs with his. “Do you want me to not be so loud?”

“Fuck no,” Tyler answered quickly, holding you a bit tighter. “Just…be prepared in case these walls are super fuckin’ thin, because I have a feelin’ we won’t be a secret for much longer.”

And he was right, because as soon as he saw Boone’s smirking face the next morning, he knew there was no hiding it anymore. And secretly, Tyler was really fucking relieved.

#grumpys glen grove #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens smut #tyler owens twisters #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens fic #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens fanfiction #twisters imagines #twisters x reader #twisters imagine #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #twisters fanfic

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streamdotpng · 7 months ago

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There’s something about the fact that personal boundaries exist to separate people from those who’d impede on one’s personal bubble, and yet for Wednesday Addams, because her boundaries are always clear, other’s feel bold enough to constantly cross them. Boring boys continue to ignore her clear intentions to be alone; trying new pathetic pickup lines that range from pedestrian to unintelligible. Fellow students interrupt her silent studies in the library to spark up a mundane conversation that go nowhere. Even some of the teachers try to rope the goth into some inane extra curricular with the promise of fun, even though she’s already participating in the required activities that she actually wants to do (fencing and bee keeping is enough). While Wednesday isn’t exactly yearning for the whole school to fear her (at least not too much) a healthy amount would be nice if it meant she’d have some peace and quiet without another person breaking the silence.

There’s an obvious exception though, personified in her bubbly roommate. Enid Sinclair has mastered the ability to somehow weave her way through Wednesday’s boundaries so effortlessly that it’s like a dance. The wolf so clearly wanted to wrap the raven in her arms since the moment they met, and yet she respected Wednesday’s wishes, only crossing the line after the two of them helped save the school. The goth even hugged back, and though she’ll never admit it, she wished the hug lasted longer. This isn’t even touching upon all the countless times that Wednesday has convieniently forgotten her aversion to touch when it comes her roommate. To be fair, Enid wouldn’t linger for long, and it was usually either Wednesday’s arms or shoulders, but the raven has harmed people for less, so there’s no denying that the wolf was special (though denial is a fickle thing anyways, especially according to a certain vampire).

Unfortunately, Wednesday was currently in a situation that didn’t involve her “only exception” as she found herself at the receiving end of a new student’s attempts at flirtation.

“Look, all I’m saying is that my ability to heal rivals everyone here,” says boring lizard boy whose name Wednesday didn’t even bother to hear. “I can even regrow limbs!”

Wednesday doesn’t even waste her energy rolling her brown eyes at this nobody, instead opting to just ask, “Why don’t you regrow them somewhere else, preferably far away from me.”

“Oh come on Addams, I know you’re into weird shit. You’re telling me you don’t have a single morbid thought about my abilities? ‘Cause let’s just say the healing helps with certain endurance based activities.”

“I hold no thoughts of you, for if I did, I’d risk lowering my IQ. Now leave.”

“Damn, can’t the savior of Nevermore throw this dog a bone? Not even a smile?”

His slimy fingers began to reach for one of the goth’s braids, but he soon found two of his fingers caught between a pair of scissors.

“Do not touch me, less we learn the extent of your abilities.”

The boy threw up his hands with a dopey grin. “Whatever you say Addams.”

Fed up with the social interaction, Wednesday began to make her way back to her shared dorm. Enid should be there, probably already painting Thing’s nails. Regrettably, this brief moment of thinking distracted Wednesday long enough to not notice the sleazy reptile once again reaching towards her. This time, he grabs her wrist, specifically the one holding the scissors.

It’s short lived however, because right as the raven was about to give this boy a sneak peak of Hell itself, she feels something splash against her face, followed by the shrieks of the idiot who dared touch her. Wednesday lifts her arm to see his freshly amputated hand still attached to her wrist. She touches her face and finds that some of his blood has indeed gotten on her. She finally looks to the source of the violence, finding her angry roommate with blood still dripping from her multicolored claws. The sight causes something to stir in Wednesday, not unlike the way she felt after hugging her bloody roommate for the first time.

“Don’t ever touch her,” growls Enid. “Don’t even look at her, or your eyes will be next.”

The lizard boy nods his head as if his life depended on it, before sheepishly asking, “Can I at least have my hand back?”

“Oh for sure!” With a smile on her face, Enid removed the hand from Wednesday’s wrist, and with a casual strength that only a werewolf could muster, threw it across school grounds so far it couldn’t be seen from where they were standing. “Go get it. Come on Wednesday, it’s almost your writing time.”

With a level of irony for the currently handless boy, Enid grabs Wednesday’s hand as she drags her away from the scene. All he can do is bleed and watch them disappear into the school.

As they walk the halls, Enid talks a mile a minute, with her actions now dawning on her. “I really just cut his hand off. Like, SLASH, off! It was like instinct, I wasn’t even thinking. I just saw him touch you, and I know you don’t like to be touched.”

“Enid.”

“Like I know you can fight your own battles, but part of being best friends is that you don’t have to do it alone anymore!”

“Enid.”

“I’m probably going to get into trouble aren’t I? I mean, he heals right? It’ll grow back, everything is fine. Plus, it was kind of self defense, or is it not ‘cause I was coming to your defense?”

“Enid.”

“Sorry, yes Wednesday?”

“While I agree that I could’ve handled it myself, your actions are appreciated, especially due to how vividly violent it was.”

The validation causes Enid to blush. “Aww, thanks Wednesday, anything for you.” The blonde smiles a big toothy grin, to which the goth replies with a small smile only meant for Enid. The two continue to their dorm, with a peculiar sight for anyone that dared to look in their direction: they were still holding hands.

Enid, realizing that her favorite sweater is covered in blood: awh man!! Now it's never going to wash out

Wednesday, already tugging her towards their dorm: I can help with that

#Wenclair #Writing #Jdwicked #THEY'RE JUST SO... CUTE JD 😭😭😭😭#I love them

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cmdrfupa · 1 month ago

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Weird Fishes

5th installment of Upheaval

cw: all chapters and content warnings are listed in this post.

a/n: With one more chapter, I will officially have completed my first-ever series! This has been a real treat to write so thank you for reading along! Every comment, reblog and like is seen and more appreciated than you know. This isn't normal Nanami writing so to speak but I'm glad to have had so many who appreciate my approach.

Thank you for reading and see you in the final chapter!

“I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.” - Angela Davis

You’d moved back in only part-time to your shared home after the reconciliation phase started. Still keeping with separate bedrooms but having dinner together at least 4 days a week.

It felt like dating but with far more trauma sharing and healing in the process. Kento was making efforts in sharing how he felt internally daily and made sure he let you know that it is nothing you did any of those days that made him feel rough when that was the energy.

He was present, active, establishing clear boundaries but opening up to be a space for the both of you.

And it wasn’t the half ass efforts a man would give when he knew he fucked up. No. He was trying because he valued the life he had with you. He was making up for lost time and keeping up with the time you now had.

It was everything you literally needed from him and it felt like shit. You needed to come clean. Soon.

The door clicked softly as you stepped inside, the warm air from inside brushing your cheeks as the cold left your face. The faint clatter of a cup in the kitchen drew your attention and you followed the sound to find Kento standing at the counter. He turned at the sound of your footsteps, his expression softening when he saw you.

“You’re back,” he said warmly, a faint smile gracing his lips. “Tea’s still warm if you’d like some to warm you up.”

You shook your head, setting your bag down on the counter. “I’m okay, thank you.”

He came closer, brushing a hand along your arm as he studied the saddened look on your face. “You look tired. Was work too much?” Your heart ached at the simple gesture, at the way he always noticed the little things.

Hesitation held weight on your tongue. The familiar, lung piercing feeling of unspoken words pressed down on you. “I had my solo session with Ootaishi today,” you responded carefully.

Kento’s brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded. “How did it go?”

You looked up at him, eyes searching his. “It was… eye-opening. I realized something about how I’ve been handling things. About us.”

Concern flickered across his face, and he reached out to take your hand, guiding you to the dining table. He sat next you, his thumb brushing gently against your knuckles. “Do you want to talk about it?” he said, his voice steady but laced with worry.

Your throat tightening causing the deep breath you took to get stuck before you exhaled. “I’ve been holding back. For so long. I thought I was helping, Kento, but… I wasn’t.” Your voice wavered, and you looked down, ashamed.

He tilted his head, his brows knitting together. “Holding back? From what?”

“From the truth,” you admitted, words tumbling out. “From being honest with you about how scared I was, about how helpless I felt watching you spiral after Shibuya. I let fear take over. I thought if I could just keep things calm, if I didn’t push too hard, you’d be okay. We’d be okay.”

His grip on your hand tightened slightly as he tried to make sense of what you were saying. “You were afraid… of what? That I couldn’t handle it? That I’d push you away?”

Tears brimming in your eyes, you shook your head. “I was afraid of losing you. Of saying something wrong, of making it worse. I thought I was protecting us, but all I did was let us drift further apart.”

The cold, almost isolating feeling of discomfort crept into your chest and your voice broke, letting out a shaky breath. “I thought if I just kept quiet, if I didn’t rock the boat, things would get better on their own. But they didn’t, Kento. They got worse.”

Kento’s gaze softened, his own chest tightening at your raw vulnerability. “You weren’t the only one who was afraid,” he said quietly. “I thought if I kept everything inside, if I buried it deep enough, I could protect you from all of it. From me.”

You looked at him, the tears that would quickly wear you down were spilling over now. “But we didn’t protect each other. We just… let the silence grow. I let myself believe that as long as you were here, as long as you weren’t drinking, it was enough. I settled for surviving when we both needed so much more.”

His jaw tightened, and he exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted, his voice low. “I stopped trying because I thought surviving was all I had left in me. I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you—hurting us.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your confessions now settling over you like a thick fog.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, voice trembling. “I’m so sorry for not being braver, for not telling you how I really felt. I thought I was helping, but I see now that I wasn’t.”

Kento’s throat tightened as he watched you break down, your shoulders shaking as you tried to contain the sobs that now overtook you. He kneeled, his chair scraping softly against the floor, and moved to your side.

“I hated you. I hated you for hurting yourself for hurting me. I hated you because I felt like I loved you more than you loved yourself.” You teetered between composing yourself and losing your entire mind trying to get your feelings out. “I was loving myself and you while being given nothing. I hated seeing you for so long. I—,”

As he reached out to comfort you, he stopped, his hand hovering above your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he muttered suddenly, his voice thick with emotion. “I think I need to get some air. To clear my head..”

Your tear-streaked face turned up to him, confusion and hurt flashing in your eyes. “Kento—”

“I just need a moment,” he said softly, slipping on his coat. “I promise that I’ll be back.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet of your home.

Outside, Kento pulled his phone from his pocket, the cool air stinging his skin as he got in the car. His fingers hovered over the screen before he typed out a message.

Can I come over?

He held his phone, staring at the screen until the okay was given, driving off in hopes of the best help he could get.

Kento stood outside the door, his hand poised to knock. For a moment, he hesitated, the quiet stillness of the night pressing in around him. He inhaled deeply and finally knocked, the sound sharp and decisive.

A muffled, “Coming!” drifted from inside, and moments later, Gojo swung the door open, his usual grin plastered on his face.

“Nanamin! My beautiful friend.” Gojo leaned casually against the door frame. “If you’re here to tell me you’ve finally taken my advice on Hawaiian shirts, I’ll cry tears of joy.”

Kento huffed a breath, his irritation faint but present. “Can I come in?”

“Of course! Though I should warn you, my couch is for people who laugh at my jokes, so…” Gojo stepped aside with an exaggerated bow. “Enter at your own risk.”

Kento stepped inside, toeing off his shoes in the entryway. He followed Gojo to the living room, taking in the extravagant decor without comment.

“Nice place,” Kento muttered.

“Nice? I forget you never accept my invites over. It’s amazing,” Gojo corrected, flopping onto an oversized couch. “But I imagine you didn’t ask to come here to talk interior design. What’s up, Nanamin?”

Kento remained standing, his hands buried in his pockets. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“Whiskey? Vodka? A fine cognac, perhaps?”

“Something non-alcoholic,” Kento replied flatly.

Gojo arched an eyebrow, his grin quirking upward. “Juice it is! You’re lucky! I have no alcohol but just restocked on the real goods. Sit tight.”

As Gojo disappeared into the kitchen, Kento wandered to the large windows, gazing out at the sprawling city below. The distant lights were beautiful, but they felt impossibly far away, untouchable.

When Gojo returned, he set two glasses of passion fruit juice on the table and plopped onto the couch again, motioning for Kento to sit.

“All right,” Gojo said, folding one leg over the other. “You’re here, drinking juice, and you’ve got that ��world’s-heaviest-burden’ look. Spill.”

Kento sat down reluctantly, his posture stiff. “I left home tonight,” he said after a long pause.

Gojo tilted his head, his grin fading. “Left, as in…?”

“As in, I needed space,” Kento clarified, his voice heavy. “Before I said or did something I couldn’t take back.”

Gojo’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What happened?”

“She told me how she felt,” Kento said, his hands curling into fists. “About us. How she hated me when I was fucking up. About how she blames herself for not speaking up sooner. She thinks she let me fall apart without stepping in. But it’s not her fault. It’s mine. I let us get there. I stopped fighting for us.”

Gojo hummed thoughtfully, studying Kento’s tense form. “So you walked away.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her more,” Kento replied immediately, his voice tight. “I thought if I could clear my head, figure out what to say—I wouldn’t make it worse.”

Gojo let out a low whistle. “Nanamin, I’m going to say this as nicely as possible: That’s stupid.”

Kento shot him a glare, but Gojo held up a hand.

“Listen,” Gojo said. “You’ve been going to therapy, right? Both solo and couples, working through all this?”

Kento nodded reluctantly.

“And I bet in those sessions, you talk about all these feelings, right? The guilt, the anger, the fear?”

“Yes,” Kento said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Gojo leaned back, folding his arms over his chest. “So why can’t you say those things to them at home?”

Kento stared at his hands, the tension in his shoulders growing. “It’s different. In therapy, there’s necessary structure. A mediator. I can say what I feel without worrying about how it’ll land if I know there is someone there to keep us from veering off. But with just her and I…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“With her, it’s raw,” Gojo finished, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “There’s no script, no safety net. Just you and the person you love, trying to figure out how to be whole again.”

Kento didn’t respond, the weight of Gojo’s words settled over him.

“You know,” Gojo said after a moment, “you’re not as alone in this as you think. She’s scared too. She’s hurting too. But she’s still there, fighting for you. You think she’d pour her heart out like that if she didn’t want to fix this?”

Kento’s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the untouched glass of juice. “I don’t know if I have it in me to be what she needs. We started off so well. I fell for her and gave promises that the old me could fulfill. I’m not him anymore.”

Gojo leaned forward, his tone firmer. “What she needs is you, Nanami. Not some perfect version of you that you think she needs. Not the guy who thinks he has to carry everything alone. Just you, messy feelings and all. And if therapy’s taught you anything, it’s that sharing that mess is how you heal.”

Kento exhaled slowly, the knot in his chest loosening ever so slightly.

There was a beat of silence before Kento spoke up. “Remember at our wedding when you gave your toast? Did you really mean that?”

“Mean what?” Gojo smiled and sat up.

“That you trusted me with not only your students but with your life.”

Gojo took his glasses off and sat them on top of his head. “You have known me since we were both teenagers. While your wife is like my sister, you have seen me at my most cringiest. And my weakest. I may have made your life a little hellish as your senpai, but I knew you had potential and as an adult, I envied the life you have. So, yes.”

Both of the men sat up and Kento shook his head in disbelief. “Now that, I’m not buying.”

“But it’s true.” Gojo stood up and walked over to the ceiling high windows that faced out to the city. “Being taken seriously. Being seen as a man who makes sound choices from the beginning. You understand people. You understood me. And knowing all that we have gone through both together and separately, l knew that my trust in you would never be questioned.”

Nanami sipped his juice and stood, walking over to Gojo. “I just assess and do what needs to be done.”

“And you do it with others in mind. Not just for your own selfish desires. But because you know the world can be cruel and poisonous to anyone. Especially the weaponized and the young.”

Nanami turned to Gojo and chuckled. “We made it out of our twenties. With more scars than sense.”

“Nah. We got both! And we are damn good with the sense we have. Jujutsu High is being ran like the damn navy. With no exploitation and better support, of course.” He cheesed and threw his arm around Nanami’s shoulder. “Nanamin. You are exactly who you need to be for yourself and for your wife. Even I know that.”

Nanami drew in a sharp breath and bit on his bottom lip.

“You’re scared. I get it,” Gojo continued. “But running away isn’t going to make it any easier. Go home. Tell her you’re scared, that you’re hurting, that you’re still figuring this out. She’ll listen. That’s what love is.”

Kento looked up at him, a flicker of determination returning to his eyes. He nodded, patting Gojo on the back. “Thank you.”

Gojo grinned, his usual spark returning. “Don’t thank me yet. Go home, Nanamin. And next time, bring your own juice. And maybe a fun game! And your wife! I miss you guys.”

____________

The house was quiet. The kind of quiet where the silence was made to feel heavier with every passing moment. You sat on the edge of the couch, fingers nervously picking and twisting at the frayed hem of your shirt. The untouched mug of tea on the table had long gone cold, but you barely noticed when the only thing you could think of was your husband.

When the sound of a key turning in the lock finally broke the silence, you froze. The door creaked open, and Kento stepped inside, his face shadowed by exhaustion yet softened with quiet resolve when his eyes landed on you.

“Kento,” you whispered, relief flooding your voice as you stood.

He closed the door behind him and set his keys down with deliberate care. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at each other across the foyer, as if neither of you knew how to bridge the gap between you both.

Then Kento crossed the room in a few purposeful strides and pulled you into his arms. You melted into the embrace, hands clutching the back of his shirt like a lifeline. His scent—faint traces of soap and the crisp evening air—was a comfort you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.

Neither of you spoke at first, the quiet filled only with the steady rhythm of your breathing and his heart in your ears. When you finally pulled back, your eyes searched his face.

“You came back,” she said softly, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and lingering fear.

“Of course. I just needed a chance take everything in,” he replied, his voice steady but tinged with weariness. “I’m sorry for that. I just needed the time to think before I reacted.”

You nodded, wiping at your eyes quickly. “I was so scared you wouldn’t.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against yours for a brief moment before stepping back. “I couldn’t stay away. Not when there’s still so much we need to say to each other.”

“Kento, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve said a long time ago.”

“I’m listening, but lets sit.” he said gently, his hands still resting lightly on your arms and led you to the couch.

Your fingers fidgeted nervously as your took a deep breath. You settled back onto the couch before forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “My talk with Ootaishi made me face some harsh truths about my behavior in the past two years.”

“What type of behavior? Are you safe?”

“Yeah. Yes. I’ve just.” You exhaled deeply. “The missions where I’d have to visit Shoko after. Practically every single one. I’d been taking those dangerous missions for a reason. Ones I knew were reckless, ones I knew could get me killed but would allow me to use that anger and frustration to the fullest. And I justified it by telling myself it was for the greater good, but…”

Your voice cracked and you looked down. You couldn’t look him in the eye admitting your lowest. “It was like my own version of self harm, I was using them to run away from my guilt. From how much I felt I’d failed you. I thought if I pushed myself hard enough, maybe I wouldn’t have to feel guilt about something else. But that wasn’t fair. Not to you, not to us.”

Kento’s heart sunk at the realization. His brow furrowed and he reached for your hands, holding them firmly in his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was afraid,” you admitted, voice thick with emotion. “Afraid you’d see how broken I am. How weak. And I thought well if I don’t say it out loud, I could keep pretending I was holding it together. But I wasn’t. I haven’t been for a long time.”

His grip on your hands tightened slightly, his gaze unwavering. “You’re not weak,” he said firmly. “You’re human. You’ve been trying to cope with something that feels impossible. I understand that more than you know.”

Your lip trembled but you managed to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “I don’t want to keep running. I don’t want to keep making excuses. I want to face this—face us—head-on. But I need to know we’re in this together.”

Kento nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve been so consumed by my own guilt, my own fear, that I forgot how to let you in. I convinced myself I had to shoulder it all alone, but that’s not what this is supposed to be.”

He took a deep breath, his voice lowering. “I’ve been telling myself I’m working to fix this. But the truth is, I’ve been avoiding the hardest part: being honest with you. With myself. I need to do better. I need to stop using silence as a shield and start speaking up, even when it’s uncomfortable. Because if I don’t, I’ll lose you, and that’s not something I can live with.”

Your tears finally fell, but this time, they weren’t just from sadness. “I promise I’ll do better too. I’ll stop hiding behind missions and excuses. I’ll start facing my fears instead of burying them. Because you’re worth it. We’re worth it.”

Kento pulled you in the most comforting embrace. The years of anger, turmoil, unresolved trauma. You felt it dispel with each lingering moment you shared. His arms encircled you like a protective cocoon and he kissed the top of your head “We’re both worth it,” he murmured. “Everything we’ve been through—it can’t be in vain. We’ve fought too hard, survived too much, to let it end like this.”

You nodded against his chest, tears dampening his shirt. “One day at a time?”

“One day at a time,” he echoed, his voice steady.

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other as the weight of their words settled. For the first time in what felt like forever, the silence between you wasn’t filled with fear or doubt but with a shared sense of hope.

Kento rubbed your back gently, his thumb drawing small circles as he closed his eyes. “I swear on my life. We will be more than okay, dove. I promise.”

August 25th 2021 (Present)

Kento promised himself a fresh sandwich if he could make it through his solo therapy session. The thought of melty provolone and thinly sliced mortadella that was ever so slightly crisped on a kaiser role motivated him through the entire walk to Ootaishi’s office. “And those crispy kettle chips..” He murmured to himself as he entered the now very familiar office building. “I should get two sandwiches. For being early.”

His final thought giving him a chuckle as he knocked on Ootaishi’s door and waited to be brought in.

After a few moments, Ootaishi opened her office and escorted Nanami in. “Sorry to have kept you waiting. Busy day of reschedules and prepping for student evals for the new class on campus.”

“Right.”

Kento adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves as he sat on the familiar couch. The office was warm and softly illuminated, the air tinged with the faint aroma of chamomile from a diffuser in the corner. Across from him, Ootaishi sat poised but relaxed. She wasn’t in a rush; she never was. That, in itself, always made Kento feel both more at ease and slightly exposed.

He inhaled deeply, his hands resting on his knees. “It’s strange,” he admitted after a beat. “I’ve walked into cursed-infested buildings with more certainty than I feel coming here some days.”

Ootaishi smiled faintly, setting her pen down for the moment. “Healing isn’t supposed to be comfortable, Nanami-san. But the fact that you’re here speaks to how much you’re willing to face that discomfort.”

“No talisman today?” Kento looked at the coffee table. A notepad, Kleenex, water in a pitcher and a small trinket from the Kyoto visitors center.

“Just the classics today, Mr. Nanami: pen, paper, and emotions.” Ootaishi smiled and poured two glasses of water before sitting back in her seat.

“Is your domain up?”

“Do you plan on running?” The faint playful teasing made Ootaishi laugh at her own joke.

Nanami heaved out a laugh before responding. “No running. Just wanted to know what I’m up against so to speak.

The therapist jotted the days date on her notebook then looked over her glasses. “Only yourself is who you’re up against. No domains.”

He gave a small nod, a noncommittal sound leaving his throat. “Let’s get started then.”

She adjusted her glasses slightly, studying him with an air of calm curiosity. “So first, congratulations of completing the first parts of your counseling. You and your partner have made great strides as far as pinpointing solvable issues and working through them. How are you feeling about where your marriage is headed after the past few months and sessions?”

Kento paused, his hands gripping his knees slightly tighter. “Better than I thought I would, considering how far we’d fallen. My wife…” He exhaled softly, a flicker of something—relief, guilt, love—crossing his face.

“She’s far more understanding than I deserve. But we are making great strides. She told me things about a week ago that I wasn’t prepared to hear, but needed to. And in return, I shared what I’ve been running from and we were able to find some solid footing and mutual understanding in our struggles.”

“And how did that feel?” Ootaishi asked, leaning slightly forward.

“Hard,” Kento admitted. “But… freeing. It’s like we’ve been clawing through this dark tunnel for months, and now I can finally see the light. It’s faint, but it’s there.”

“And what about you, specifically? What changes have you made—and what plans are you setting for yourself moving forward?”

Kento frowned thoughtfully, his brow furrowing. “I’ve made a commitment to stop using silence as a defense. I’ve realized how much damage it’s done—not just to her, but to me. I’ve also started setting firmer boundaries at work. The idea of burning myself out to prove my worth doesn’t appeal to me anymore. I’m not as young nor as naive. And as for plans…”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I want to be more present. I don’t want to be the man who’s physically in the room but emotionally on Pluto with no tether to the world.”

Ootaishi nodded, letting his words hang in the air for a moment before steering the conversation. “Your willingness to make those changes is important.” The therapist quickly wrote on the page and turned her attention back to Kento. “I want to shift gears slightly. How do you think your grandfather and mother would feel and currently about the life you lived so far?”

Kento blinked, the question catching him off guard. “My grandfather…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to his lap. “He wouldn’t have approved of my lack of self interest at some points. He valued hard work, but not at the cost of oneself. He used to tell me, ‘Kento, a man who doesn’t know when to rest is a man who doesn’t know how to live.’ I ignored that for too long.”

“Very wise man. And your mother?”

“She wanted me to be happy,” he said simply, a faint sadness coloring his tone. “I think it hurt her to see me so disillusioned with the world. When I was recruited and sent to jujutsu tech, She tried to guide me towards balance and patience with myself, but I pushed her advice aside, convinced I knew better.

He sighed. “Now I wish I’d listened more.”

Ootaishi studied him carefully. “And who do you think you are now, Kento?”

He looked up, confusion flickering in his eyes. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady. “Who are you—not the sixteen-year-old boy sent to train, not the man who ran from his responsibilities, and not the sorcerer who dedicated his life to a dangerous, often thankless profession. Who is Nanami Kento?”

Kento’s lips parted slightly, but no answer came. He leaned back into the couch, eyes narrowing in thought. “I… don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Ootaishi said gently. “Let me reframe it. Who are you, outside of your roles and obligations? When the work attire comes off, when the duties are set aside, who remains?”

Kento swallowed, his voice quieter now. “I’m not sure there’s much left of that person. I’ve spent so long being what I thought others needed me to be that I’ve forgotten how to just… be.”

Ootaishi nodded, her expression soft but firm. “That’s not unusual for someone in your position. But it’s something we need to work on, because you’re more than your past, and you’re more than your job. You need to rediscover yourself—not as someone’s subordinate or savior, but as Nanami Kento.”

He nodded slowly, the weight of her words sinking in.

“Do you still enjoy life here in the city?”

His answer was in the way he lips pursed before sucking them in.

After a moment, she asked, “Do you think your surroundings hold you back?”

His brows furrowed again. “My surroundings?”

“The city you’ve returned to and stayed in,” she clarified. “Your workplace, the people you interact with. Many of the most traumatic moments of your life have happened here. Do you feel that staying in this environment is helping you heal—or hindering you?”

Kento hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted. “There’s a part of me that wonders if leaving would make things easier. But there’s another part that feels like leaving would be running again.”

“Not necessarily,” Ootaishi said carefully. “Sometimes, choosing to leave is an act of self-preservation, not avoidance. Healing doesn’t always mean staying in the same place where the pain began. It means doing what’s best for your well-being, even if that means stepping into the unknown.”

Kento let her words settle, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally, his voice steady but low.

“Good,” she said with a small smile. “That’s all I ask.”

The session had started winding down, the weight of Ootaishi’s questions settling deeply into Kento’s mind. Yet, as he sat there, something nagged at him, a curiosity he couldn’t shake. He glanced at her, studying her calm, composed demeanor.

“Ootaishi,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity. “Can I ask you something personal?”

She set her pen down, folding her hands in her lap. “Of course.”

“Why did you choose this?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to her office. “Why become a therapist? You’re a special-grade sorcerer. You could’ve done anything with your technique. Why this?”

Ootaishi’s lips quirked into a dim smile, as though she’d been expecting the question. She leaned back slightly, her gaze softening as she considered her response.

“It wasn’t an easy decision,” she admitted. “For a long time, I thought my purpose was clear: to use my power to fight, to exorcise, to protect. It’s what we’re trained to do, isn’t it? To throw ourselves into the fire, again and again, until there’s nothing left. Especially when you hail from a known family with an often high regarded technique.”

Kento nodded, his throat tightening slightly at her words.

“But then I realized something,” she continued. “No matter how many curses I destroyed, no matter how many battles I survived, the real scars—the ones that lingered in the people around me—couldn’t be touched by brute strength or flashy techniques. I started noticing how many sorcerers were walking around carrying wounds no one could see, wounds they didn’t know how to heal. And I was one of them.”

Her eyes met his, steady and unwavering. “So, I made a choice. I decided that if I was going to dedicate my life to something, it wouldn’t be to fighting battles that only ever seemed to grow larger. It would be to helping people fight the ones inside themselves—the battles that truly matter.”

Kento’s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to his hands. “But doesn’t it feel like giving up? Turning away from the front lines?”

“Not at all,” Ootaishi said, her tone gentle but firm. “It feels like stepping into a different kind of battlefield. One where the goal isn’t destruction, but restoration. And let me tell you, Nanami-san—it’s far more terrifying. But it’s also far more rewarding.”

He was quiet for a moment, her words sinking in like water into parched soil.

“Why do you ask?” she prompted, tilting her head slightly.

Kento hesitated, his voice low when he finally spoke. “Tokyo, staying in this life. I’ve been trying to convince myself that leaving would mean abandoning my responsibilities, running from my past. But I just want to find a way to live a life that doesn’t feel like a constant fight.”

Ootaishi nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “You don’t owe anyone your suffering, Nanami. You have the right to choose a life that nourishes you, rather than drains you. Sometimes, stepping away isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom.”

Her words settled over him like a gentle weight, grounding yet freeing. For the first time, the idea of leaving Tokyo didn’t feel like failure. It felt like possibility.

As the session came to an end, Ootaishi stood, offering him a quiet smile as he rose from his chair. “Take your time with these decisions,” she said. “But remember: healing isn’t about where you’ve been. It’s about where you want to go.”

Kento nodded, his expression thoughtful as he stepped toward the door. “Thank you, Ootaishi-san. For everything.”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice warm. “I’ll see you both in two weeks.”

As he left her office and stepped out into the cool evening air, Kento felt a flicker of clarity in his chest. The path ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel insurmountable.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento x reader #jjk kento #nanami kento smut #Lu.logs

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ivy-meshle · 2 months ago

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Okay I said on Tuesday in the tags I might talk about plurality n stuff wrt myself. Right now this is more stream of consciousness than anything polished, and idk if I’m going to be up to talking about it with people for a few days.

This is gonna get pretty long so I'm putting it under the cut:

(FWIW, I'm mainly using 'I' here, but that's because I've spent so long trying to make sure I keep plurality stuff off of this blog it feels weird to write 'we').

I think it was... fuck, six or seven years ago now? that I first learned what plurality even was, then another year and a half where I just kept thinking about it for weeks on end before I started to maybe consider that the reason I couldn't stop thinking about it was maybe the same reason I couldn't stop thinking about transness after I'd learned about that.

Even now, I'm still hesitant to claim plurality. It feels like a step too far- like I’m overstating things. I don't feel like one person, but I don't know that I feel like more than one, either. Certainly I don't have clear boundaries between one self and another. It’s more akin to distinct patterns of thoughts and behaviors that I feel like I snap between. Neural pathways that open and close.

There is one consistent pattern I've noticed though: when I'm in a period of stress, those distinctions become a lot clearer, and they tend to stay clearer than they were before even after I can unwind. Which is part of why I'm feeling more comfortable talking about plurality now; I know I'm going to be more people, more clearly, in the next four years.

The other major reason is that I want to not feel doubt every time I talk about us, that I'm just deluding myself. And that means that I need to get more used to talking about us.

So, uh, introductions, I guess? I've opted not to introduce characters (fictives(?)), since they tend to come and go more frequently- usually as I write about them. I think it's something about trying to get into their perspective that creates some of the same sort of neural pathways. If they stick around for longer than three months after I stop writing about them, I'll introduce them then. The sole exception here is Nensa, who meets that requirement.

For now: Hunter, 'me', host(?). He/it. Mostly responsible for getting people and things to where they need to be to work. Emotional regulation and planning type things.

Asher. He/ey. Math/physics nerd, problem solver. He handles the homework :Þ

Nensa. They/she. Minecraft Warden hybrid, stoic, helps with handling sensory overload mainly.

Miranda. She/her. Customer service voice social butterfly. When I need to talk to people at the bank or on the phone, she’s the one who takes the wheel.

Blake. He/him. Punk aesthetics and paranoia. He’s the one who keeps us from doxxing myself every other day, but also he keeps us from opening up to people. It’s a balancing act. (He’s very resistant to posting this.)

Dakota. She/her. Probably the first distinct self I identified; basically the face of my RSD. Very sensitive, cries frequently.

Ulyssa. She/it/void. Goth and angry and rude. It formed semi-on-purpose when Hunter decided to treat the negative self talk while I was spiraling like it was a person he could talk to and well. Now she is! Hunter tries to keep it and Dakota separate as much as possible.

Qwerty. It/she/he. Online persona, kinda? It only shows up when we’re on the internet. He’s more in tune with the social norms of the web than the rest of us are.

Anyways. Yeah. IDK. Life is weird and brains are weirder and I don’t necessarily think of myself as a system, but I would count myself as plural. That’s about the long and short of it.

Feels like I ought to say more, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I’m going to schedule this for, like, 9am my time so that I don’t have to actually hit that post button myself (scary). I also probably won’t be up for talking about this with other people (sorry mutuals!) for at least a few days. Thanks for listening.

( @ivy-meshle so I can rb this in the future )

#about me I guess…#still nervous to post this. but I want to get it over with.

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uncloseted · 5 months ago

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but that's the thing!! she implied that a fan saying hello to her or asking for a picture is ALWAYS weird and creepy and that it shouldn't even cross our minds yet she has pictures with so many celebrities, and tries to become friends with them, like aren't they all supposed to be random people? it's hypocritical. that's why people including myself are mad at her

Anonymous asked:

I’m not the original anon but I think I agree with what she’s saying about Chappell. I also get what you’re saying about how hard it is to be famous and how harmful parasocial relationships are. I would never want to be famous and honestly I don’t think I could handle it for a week lol. I feel bad that Chappell has had to deal with stalkers and harassment. That’s never ok and shouldn’t be brushed off just because she’s a celeb. That is creepy and weird behavior. What I don’t like is how she’s labeling asking for a picture as creepy and weird. Celebs absolutely have a right to say no to a picture and I get it would be exhausting to constantly be asked that but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with asking as long as it’s done politely/you respect their answer. In the example she gives in the video she responds to a fan asking for a picture with “no what the fuck” and then says they shouldn’t get mad. If I nicely asked a celeb for a picture and they started swearing at me instead of just politely saying no I would be angry too. Boundaries can be communicated in a polite way. I think respect works both ways. I see a lot of people asking for empathy for Chappell (which I agree with) but I don’t see anyone asking her to have empathy for her fans.

Is that what she said, or is that what you heard? In the first video, she calls out people who yell at her from their car window, who harass her in public, who ask her for photos and then get mad when she says no, who get offended when she says she doesn't have time for an interaction, who stalk her family, who follow her around, who dissect her life, who bully her online, and who make assumptions about her. In the second one, she says that she doesn't care that abuse and harassment and stalking are considered normal things to do to famous people, those actions still aren't okay. Then she says that it's weird when people think that they know her just because they see her online and listen to the art that she makes, and that she's allowed to say no to creepy behavior. If to you, Chappell Roan saying "please don't harass me, stalk me, or get angry at me when I don't have time to interact with you. I need to be able to say no when people are being creepy" translates to "fans should never talk to me in public", I think you need to take a step back and think about what you're considering a normal fan interaction. I also think that it's important to remember the scale of this problem. While Chappell might be the first celebrity a person has ever seen, the person asking her for a picture is likely the fifth or tenth or thirtieth person she's talked to that day. It becomes impossible to exist as a person when you have that many people putting demands on you whenever you leave the house.

But also, even if Chappell had said, "please never approach me in public. When I'm Chappell, I'm Chappell, but when I'm Kayleigh, I'm Kayleigh, and I need to be able to keep those two parts of my life separate," which, to be clear, she didn't, I don't see what the problem is. The job of an artist is not to be a public figure who's accessible 24/7. It's to make art. Chappell Roan makes records, tours, and makes merch. Her fans buy the records, go to the tours, and buy merch. In return, they have a record, an experience of going to a show, or a piece of merch. That is the extent of what her job is. It's really weird to me that people feel that because they bought her record, they're also entitled to do whatever they want to her if they see her in public. There is no other job where that's just normalized, and it's weird that we normalize it for artists. Can you imagine if you sold someone a cup of coffee and from then on, that person decided it was acceptable to touch you in public and demand photos with you and stalk you? That would be weird, right? But because Chappell is a musician, that somehow makes it okay?

I also need you to understand that Chappell Roan taking a picture with a celebrity is very different than you approaching her in public to ask for a picture. Other celebrities are essentially her co-workers, and she's taking pictures with them at work events. Chappell Roan didn't just see Olivia Rodrigo in public and demand a photo with her - Chappell did background vocals for Olivia's GUTS album, then opened for her, then took a picture with her at the tour. That's basically the equivalent of going to a work event and taking a picture with your coworker. That's really, profoundly different than going up to someone you don't know on their day off and asking them for a picture and then getting mad when they say no.

Again, I think if she had been media-trained or written out a script before posting the video, her point probably would have been taken better than it has been. Her example of a hypothetical random lady who says, "no, what the fuck" when approached for a picture seems to have gone over particularly badly by people who aren't willing to accept that that's totally how a random person might react if they were asked that in public. But she's not wrong. She has the right to exist in public without having to be performing all the time. She has the right to take off her Chappell costume and just be Kayleigh. All celebrities should have that right, because they're just people.

We're putting these celebrities in gilded cages and expecting them to dance on command, as if they're objects instead of people. As Khadija Mbowe said in their video, there's a real way in which that's abusive. And the whole "well if she didn't want to be approached in public, she shouldn't have become famous" and "she should be more polite when communicating her boundaries" thing just reeks of victim blaming to me. It feels very "well why were you wearing that outfit if you didn't want me to hit on you" or "you're such a bitch for telling me you're not interested in fucking me". Chappell should have the right to be an artist without being harassed, and she should have the right to set her boundaries the way she thinks they'll be heard, even if that's in a way that's less than polite.

At the end of the day, just like... leave celebrities alone unless you're interacting with them in a professional context (like a meet and greet, con, show, etc) or if you're going to interact with them like you would an actual stranger. Write them a fan letter or a DM to tell them how much you love their work instead. Your desire to interact with them doesn't supersede their need for privacy and to be treated as a person instead of as an object. It just can't.

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athousandmorningss · 2 years ago

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AITA?

Hello.

I am posting the below as both a cathartic way to get my thoughts out, but also in the hopes that a few of you might be able to offer advice or perspective, if you’ve the time or energy. So, here’s the tea:

As many of y’all know, I divorced my husband of ~4 years earlier this year. I communicated this to my friends, one of whom took it upon herself to look up my divorce documents. To be clear, the timeline is as follows: I submitted my divorce docs on a Friday and by Wednesday of the next week, she admitted to me she’d looked up the docs. In between the span of those days what she did not do is reach out to me in any shape or form to see how I was. Instead, she invaded my privacy and did something really, really fucking weird and inappropriate. In my opinion.

There were a few other things that happened shortly after that resulted in me eventually deciding I cannot be her friend. I communicated this to her and have not seen her since.

Here’s the rub: I met her (K) at the same time I met two of my other friends, A&J, at a bookclub. We all started hanging out together. At my suggestion, we started a real housewives watch party that met once a week. My ending the friendship with K has created weirdness. Well A&J agreed that it was not okay that K looked up my divorce docs, they have remained friends with her and continue to spend time with her.

Last week we were supposed to meet for bookclub, which J& I were supposed to lead. Two days before the meeting, J let me know that K would be there. I was angry AF, in part because K had told me months ago that she was leaving the bookclub and started a separate one at work. K’s showing up last week is, in my mind, indicative of that fact that she does not give a fuck and has no shame. My take is that her little weird, inappropriate, spying ass should have stayed home.

I learned today that J knew K was going to come to the bookclub over a month ago, but waited until a few days prior to tell me.

---

I had lunch with J&A today and tried to facilitate a conversation about setting boundaries regarding K: namely, if there is a group event in which she will be there, I will not. But also: what do we do about weekly watch parties? ETC ETC. Something that A. said really struck me: “is there any chance that you’ll forgive K and become friends again.” And so what I learned is that they really don’t think what she did is meaningful (certainly based on the fact that they’ve remained friends with her) and A. at least has been hopeful we’ll become friends again.

I am very, very angry and uncomfortable. It has become very(!!!!) important to me to clock how I feel about the people around me post-divorce, namely because I just left an abusive marriage, and I want to feel safe/respected/supported/cared for in my relationships. I do not feel that in this moment, I am being supported by A&K. My earnest desire is that they stop being friends with K. But ultimately, I feel uncomfortable and angry and like I don’t have their support in this. AITA??

I don’t wanna do the thing where I cut two friends off because they are not responding how i want them to. I can’t control their responses. It bears noting that their support, communication and friendship is the primary catalyst that helped me leave my marriage. They’ve been incredibly supportive, and we’ve had some amazing times together. I do think they care about me. I’m just feeling a way, and am now considering ending my friendships with them.

AITA?

#i will likely delete this soon #am just venting #AITA

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ferdiefields · 1 year ago

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@davisdrake (continued from here):

Well, this was awkward. Davis knew about Ferdie of course, but he wasn’t expecting to run into Louie's ex with Louie, especially when their recent kiss was still so fresh and, well, undiscussed. Davis looked from Ferdie to Louie, trying to gauge what the hell either of them could be thinking right now. He couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t supposed to be part of this interaction, even if he was literally paying Louie to hang out with him. It felt necessary for Davis to say something to make things less weird. An introduction, perhaps? “— Uhhh, no tension. Just .. surprised. Ferdie, right?” He held out his hand to shake it, despite the obvious discomfort. “I’m Davis.”

Finding out that Louie was a sugar baby was one thing Ferdie hadn’t expected upon arriving back in Echo Isle, but all things considered it truly wasn’t that surprising. Louie had always been willing to do (almost) anything to make money, and a gig like this—where he got paid just to hang out with a rich guy and partake in his lavish lifestyle—was a double win. The only catch was that he seemed to be rather reluctant to introduce his friends to the guy. They all knew who he was, of course, but there remained a clear separation between Louie’s friend group and his sugar daddy, maybe to maintain the boundary between his work and personal life. Whatever the case, Ferdie would just have to see what he could gauge about the situation from this interaction, because running into the two like this was a rare opportunity. He couldn’t help commenting on the weird atmosphere that seemed to linger even after Davis denied any tension. Interesting. Maybe trying to push some buttons would reveal a little of what was going on here. He accepted the handshake. "Surprised...Didn't Louie mention I was in town? I'm sure it was only a matter of time before we met. Then again, Louie does seem to be doing his best to keep you all to himself."

#ic #davis #ferdie: [megan “interesting” meme]#he's gonna get to the bottom of this by any means necessary #he's here to cause problems and he's having a great time #meanwhile louie: [wide-eyed murder stare]#davis1 #louie1

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soil-just-needs-water-to-be · 1 year ago

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Chapter 33

Mention : I don’t really think there’s much (mention of food issues , weed and slight smut but I’m not sure if anything else I can’t remember)

Word count : 3.8K

I really enjoyed writing this omg , I really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did we’ve all been waiting for it

Matty's POV

Matty: George got off the train no hassle , we're going to have a smoke then make our way back to the car

Tim: that's alright son , take your time.

We're now sat in the smoking area , I'm sure George has his own smokes but as I'm taking mine out I offer him one from my carton , and offer him my lighter too. Again I'm sure he has his own but it's nice ain't it. He was shaking a little and I nudged him and gave him a knowing look.

"I'm nervous Matty, what if they don't like me?" , he brung the cigarette to his lips, inhaling a long drag and I watched his cheeks hollow out before he expelled the smoke. He then smiles at me and I tentatively take his hand in my mine again, hopefully not pushing any boundaries. His hand grows tighter around mine and he sits closer to me closing the mere centimetres that we're between us.

"Darlin, I'm sure everyones gunna love you" , I bring his hand up to my lips again and softly kiss his knuckles. "You're amazing , you're beautiful, you're funny , and you keep me sane man". I take another quick drag of my cigarette in unison with George, I can feel him looking at me "what's up darlin?"

"I don't want to be weird .....and you....you can say no....but can I kiss you?" , he looked like a deer in headlights as the words were slipping from his mouth and I couldn't help but smile at him and let out a little chuckle. "I mean ....I guess ...nevermi"

"Darlin , shush , yes you can, you can kiss me as much as you like" , with that being said I felt his hand leave mine and come up to my face as he pulled me into him softly and kissed me, he tasted like smoke and coffee and something that I feel like is just George you know. We stay like this for a couple minutes just separating to gain our breath back. "Your a good kisser", I can feel the blush on my cheeks radiating from me again and I chuckle.

"You are too" , the smile that was displayed on his face was most likely identical to mine , looking like love sick teenagers. I gave him another quick peck on the cheek then we both dropped out cigs, linked our hands and began to make our way back to the car, his grip on my hand got a little tighter as we reached the car park "Matty promise me it's gunna be okay"

"What's gunna be okay darlin ?"

"Me being there , I'm not gunna be in the way am I, I'm not gunna mess things up right?" , he pauses just before we properly reach the car and pulls me back a little the fear clear on his face.

"George I promise , everything will be amazing okay , I know it's easier to say then do but please stop worrying , I promise everything will be grand, just remember I'm always right there", I squeeze his hand sent a quick smile his way and slowly pull him to the car , my dad got out the driver seat and started greeting George "Hiya lad , how was your trip", I watched George shake my dads hand as I took his case and dropped it into the boot of the car

"It was alright thanks Mr Healy , wasn't too long" , as I leaned on the back of the car watching the interaction take place I couldn't help but think George looks so awkward trying to be formal with my dad it was kind of funny. " The train was delayed by like five minutes but it didn't really matter", my dad did eventually tell him that it was okay to just call him Tim, we all then just trundled into the car George and I in the back and my dad in the driver seat as we sped away.

"Hey Matty ?", George said as we'd been on the road for roughly five minutes.

"Yeh?"

"How long roughly till we get to yours?"

"25 minutes depending on the traffic , why ?, what's up?" , we'd both just been taking pictures of each other you know being cheesy and the smile on our faces hadn't left since we saw each other.

"Kinda really have to pee, but it's fine"

"Why didn't you go in the station , or on the train ,you melon?", I couldn't help the smirk on my face he really is a numpty.

"We'll you know public transport don't fancy that really , just can never trust those transport toilets" , he was laughing to himself as he said it "and well at the station I was a little preoccupied was I not ?"

"Yeh we were a little preoccupied BUT you have a pretty mouth there , that makes very good sounds you could have said" , I couldn't help staring at his lips while saying that they really are so pretty.

"Nah I was too busy , it's alright though", our hands met in the middle console of the car, " Is Lou excited ?"

"Aww man , he's actually buzzing , been asking all day, he was supposed to come with us but he fell asleep, he's expecting you to play with him when we get back so be prepared for that" , his grip on my hand got tighter as he smiled back at me .

"You know I'll play with him anytime he wants, but I wanna spend as much time as I can with you, what days are your Exams on?", I missed what he'd said it took me a second to process the words because I couldn't help but just get lost in his eyes, so pretty , deep brown , like chocolate cake. When I noticed him just staring at me with such a wacky smile on his face , I snapped out of my haze.

"Sorry ...uh I think... Wednesday morning ....Thursday afternoon and Friday afternoon aswell ....but there only a few hours each" , my cheeks where burning again because I was caught just staring at him again "sorry"

"Why you sorry love, you've got to do them and your going to do amazingly and you've got me , I can help you study, if you need me too" , he leans over and kisses my cheek , while whispering if my ear "obviously if there's time after all the other studying I'm going to be doing"

"George", I track my eyes from his face to my dad as if to say shush my dad can here you. "Not the place", I was still smiling either way.

"So....does it really matter Im sure he knows anyways", he adjusts himself again in the seat once pulling away from me.

"You doing alright there ?", I smirk up at him after I compose myself

"Yeh all good", he pulls the camera up on his phone and asks me to get in shot with him and we take a picture with us both in it , first one of many in the week to come. "See you're gorgeous Matty"

"No , I think your possibly looking at yourself there darlin" ,

After another five minutes , my dad pulls up outside the house and I tell George where here , I also tell him that the door should be open so just make his way upstairs I'll get his bags in

"My rooms upstairs second door on the left and I've got the en-suite so just go ahead"

"Thank fuck", he jumps out of his side and make his way in as I wander off to the boot pulling his suitcase out as I watch him run inside, I'm not to far behind him after thanking my dad for driving us and then also make my way upstairs I spot George standing at my door with it wide open and he looks a little pale

"The toilets just there", I point to the other door at the corner off my room , but I see him just shake his head as I step into my room and pull his suitcase onto my bed "George what's up "

"What is that" , I follow his line of sight over to where he's looking and I then realise he looking at my snake enclosure

"It's okay George shes just my snake" , I leap up from my bed and walk over to the enclosure and wait for her to slither up my arm and tentatively walk over to George "Don't be scared , she won't hurt you, I promise, come say Hi"

He doesn't move an inch just frozen on the spot with his mouth agape, "uh , I don't think that'll be happening Matty , Snakes are scary as fuck man", He moves around the door and slips into the bathroom. "I'll be back in a second"

I put the snake back into the enclosure and flop down onto my bed while I wait for George to come back , which only take a minute or so , I hear the door click as it opens and George comes bouldering over and jumps onto the bed grappling me into a hug and kisses all over my face. "Hi there love"

"Hiya darlin , you feel better now ?" , I roll us over and I'm straddling his hips as I play with his hair sighing as I do , twisting a few strand through my fingers .

"I'm alright love , but for the love of everything that is holy , please don't come anywhere near me with that snake , I know it's the most irrational thing ever but snakes are scary" , he looked genuinely scared when I saw him stood at the door so he's probably not kidding and I'm not going to push it, so I just smile at him nodding

"I won't don't worry handsome , if she scares you that much I'll just keep her in there" , he pulls me into him softly with one of his hands on my hip as the other travel to my back kissing me softly on the lips , something I could get used too. I place my hands on either side of his cheeks rubbing my thumbs softly as we get lost in each other.

We're lost in each other for what feel like five minutes , then we here a light tap on the door and it opens slowly " Maffu is Geor...." , Louis doesn't finish his sentence as he lays eyes in George and comes running over and jumps into the bed "Hiya Georgie"

"Hi lad" , George sits up properly and I climb off of him so Louis can give him a hug, "did you have a good nap, it looks like you did ay", he ruffles his hair a little trying to flatten it , I watch on with amazement as I watch my two favourite boys get on.

"It was good but I'm awake now so I can play, you can play right ?", I do want us to hang out all together but I also do just want to nap next to George for a while because 1 hour of sleep in like the last day and a half is starting to get to me.

"Hey kiddo , do you think it would be okay if we played after dinner , because we're a little tired and we're going to have a little nap"

"Aww but you said we could play when George comes" he turns around on George's knee to look at me

"I know kiddo , I'm sorry , it shouldn't be too long, just after dinner"

"Pinky promise!" , we link our pinkies together as way of a promise because I can't even break a promise and Louis knows this, he then hugs George one last time and slides from the bed, running out of the room again. George looks at me with those damn pretty eyes of him "you tired babe ?"

"Little bit yeh"

He sticks his arms out and makes grabby hands at me as he lays back down again , I lay down next to him resting my head on he's chest and he wrap his arms around me "get some sleep yeh , you've gotta be shattered you didn't sleep last night"

"Can you play with my hair , it'll help"

"You know I will handsome", his hands star slowly running through my hair as I hold him tightly feeling my eyes drops "sleep tight handsome" , before I drift off I feel George plant a kiss on my head.

————————————xx——————————————

George's POV

While Matty slept I decided to post the photo of us that I'd taken onto my story captioning it "I'm in Manchester for the week , seeing this cutie" , then decide to text Adam for a bit while Matty sleeps

George : alright Hann , I made it okay

Adam: that's great lad , how is it

George : he's actually so cute Ad like seriously , and from what I've seen his dad seems chill , his little brother is just as excited to see me , I think it's going to be great

Adam: that's amazin, so I know you've only been there like an hour or so but anything fun to tell me yet

George : Jesus Hann , we just kissed that's all but uh yeh I think I might actually wanna be with him yanno , like I knew that anyway , but he's so pretty Hann

Adam: so when can I meet him , to make sure he's right for my best mate

George : maybe next time ??

Adam: have you guys made any plans for the week or just winging it ??

George : I don't actually know yet , I know I'll be going to see his mates Ross and Jamie at some point I don't know anything else , we didn't really plan anything , or if he has , he ain't said .

Adam: we'll I'll leave you too it , but keep me updated yeh , and you know I'm here if things get weird or whatever

George: thanks lad , I'll talk to you later.

I drop my phone back onto the bed , slip from Matty's grasp making my way to the suitcase and pull out a present I had gotten for him, place it on the bottom of the bed. The wrapping paper is black and have geometric white boxes all over it. I pull a hoodie on over my shirt and slip into some joggers. Once I'm changed I take a quick look around his room , my eyes instantly falling on his drum kit a silver "Yamaha Rydeen" set in the corner of his room , where he had a few acoustic guitars set up on the stands around it and two Electronic Guitars up on the racks on the wall , one in bubblegum pink and the other Race-car red as well as a banjo on his dresser, every single part of his room was covered in band posters , movie posters scattered all over the place. I take a seat on the small drumming stool behind the kit at first I feel like a giant on the chair my knees basically nearly touching my chest so I adjust it , it squeaks loudly it makes me cringe as I watch Matty slightly stir in his sleep but he doesn't wake which is okay. I search for some drum sticks the brush type so that it's not to loud. He also had the covers on them. I just spend some time mucking about on them , not using the kick drum felt forgein while still using the snares but I don't want to wake him.

I spend about an hour just messing about on the drums and a while on the banjo which in turn accidentally wake Matty "Georgie , what are you doing?", his voice sound gravelly and he's rubbing his eyes and he sits up. So pretty

"Sorry did I wake you?" , I place the sticks back were I found them and make my way back over to Matty "I'm sorry if I did handsome"

"Nah you didn't wake me , I just don't sleep for very long you know", he stretches his arms out and inviting me in for a hug so I just pull him into a tight hug.

"Did you sleep okay?" , I pull the ringlets of his hair on the nape of his neck and let it spring back into place "you're so cute with that just woken up face you know?"

He buries his fave in my chest as he shakes his head a little , his hair falling over his eyes "what we're you doing ?"

"Just checking out your instruments , you've got some pretty cool gear there", I pointed up to the pink guitar in the wall that I'd been pulled to a few times since noticing it but didn't move it because I don't want to accidentally break it. "That one's pretty cool , when did you get that".

"The pink one ?, I got that myself a few months ago, I saw in a music shop in town and I thought it was really awesome, and the guy in the shop let me play it for a while and it just sounded amazing" , he took a hold of my hand that was pointing at the guitar and pulled it to his lips and kissed my knuckles, "that fight you had must have been a really hard one darling , your hands are still bruised from it" , he kisses each knuckle individually "are ....you...okay ....what ....about ....the others kid" each word punctuated with a kiss.

The blush that had been on my face continued to burn my cheeks " I broke his nose, I always forget I'm stronger than I feel sometimes , but that lad deserved it like, I don't know what he expected" , I turn to Matty with my free hand on his jaw and kiss his lips. "I'm fine though and I'm sure he is too" , We break from the kiss and I see the present on the bed "Oh I got you a present" , I break away from his hold so I can reach for it, I place it in his lap and we both sit cross legged across from each other and our knees press together "there only little but I thought you'd like them".

He marvelled at the wrapping paper for a second before tearing into it, "You didn't have to you know?", the first thing he pulled out was a grey "Santa Cruz" hoodie and his eyes lite up when he pulled it out "Man this is so cool , and Jesus it's soft" , he immediately pulled it over his head and I may have picked a size to big because he was drowning in it but by Christ does he looks cute, the next thing where the two hats I'd picked, I had bought one and my mum had made the other , a grey and greeen "Land Rover" hat but the words had been rearranged and some missing so it looked like it said "Lover" and the other was a little white and black rabbit hat. "George this is so cute , who made this", he pulled the bunny hat (the sincerity hat) on slightly squint on his head, his curls where still noticeable under it.

"My mum makes them, my little sister wanted one , but I also thought it would be something you might like so I asked her to make you one", Matty surges forward throwing his arms around me as we fall back against the bed mumbling “Thank you” over and over into the crook of my neck.

“It’s okay love honestly , I’m glad you like them”

“I love them George seriously, wait hold on” , he gets up quickly and makes his way over to his wardrobe and pulls out a few things , “I didn’t get you anything but I did say you could have a few of my hoodie if you like so uh yeh , here picks the ones you like” , there was the fluffy cardigan that he always wears and I know there’s a story behind that and he’ll struggle to part with that , along with a red , yellow and red striped sweater , a few band hoodies and a worn blue Nike hoodie that looks like it would also drown him out, I’m immediately drawn the the Nike one since it looks to be quite worn meaning he wears it a lot so I reach out to grab it but I’m still looking at the fluffy cardigan. “ You can have the cardigan you know darling if you would really like it , as well as the hoodie , I don’t mind”

“The cardigan is special to you , I know you and I see how you are with it” , I look up at him stood at the end of the bed and his hoodie sleeves are resting over his hands and one hand is in his mouth as he’s biting on his nails. Something he does when he’s nervous.

“It was Janey’s , I stole it from her once upon a time I said I’d give it back and just never did, but eventually even she agreed I suited better , but I REALLY want to give it to you , so you can feel just as good as I do when I wear it , feel the security I guess” , he climbed back onto the bed and passed it to me “like seriously , It’s okay”

“I promise I’ll look after it” , I gently pull him back onto my lap , kiss his face, each cheek and then his lips. “I promise to look after you too handsome”

Matty’s head was swiftly back in the crook of my neck, his hair tickling my face and I feel his teeth graze my neck sending a shiver down my spine “Is this okay George” , I nod and slide my hand up to tangle in his hair to keep him there and he begins to nibble and suck into the sweet spot on my neck. I pull his hair lightly so I don’t hurt him just to pull him off me.

“Don’t start something if we can’t start something love”

“Who says we can’t , I can lock the door”

“Is that really the first impression , we want to give your parents IVE only been max four hours love” , my hand in his hair is still playing with his girls and he’s leaning into and his eyes and falling closed again.

“It’s okay , honestly, we don’t have to though if you don’t want to obviously”, I could feel myself growing hard with him on my lap and I could see it in his eyes he wanted too.

“We don’t have to go all the way right now , right ?”

“No darlin, what did you have in mind instead”, I pretend to think for a while because really I know exactly what I’d like but the back and forth is very fun too.

My hand wanders under the hoodie he’s wearing and I slightly pull in the waist band of his jeans to bring him even closer to me “head sounds good to me”

“George you’re as good as me darlin”

#matty healy #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald #the 1975 #gatty #the 1975 fanfic

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anaphroditealtermaybe · 2 years ago

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A Prayer:

Holy Aphrodite;

I don’t know you well yet, but I’m grateful you’ve revealed yourself to me. My name is Cara - Ann Abigail. I’ve recently been married, and I love my husband very much but often feel unworthy of him. Thank-you for your part in my relationship with him. Please take this image of a waterfall I found online for you, enjoy its beauty and energetically enjoy its cleansing aura. I do intend to give you physical things as well, but usually to share them with you, as a sister. If this is not okay with you, please make it explicit to me, right now I feel it’s okay, even though other people who know you better have said otherwise— I’m hearing you say (though I may be wrong) that the mistake is for people to intend to give you something forever and then take it back. If the intent from the beginning is to share, you are okay with that as long as it is done with respect. I am also hearing you say, though of course I may be wrong, that if you want anything just for you, you test me to listen when you make that clear, and are open to negotiations if it’s something I feel I can’t afford to give up. You also want me to know that you love me, you want the loving relationship with me that I want. You want all love. And love for me is different than it is for other practitioners— you’re okay with me being weird, and want me to love and embrace myself. So, out of your love for me, you can replenish everything I give with abundance. Offerings are a symbol, to make more real for the human in the human-goddess relationship, the give and take aspect of all relationships. It’s not about your need for anything, it’s about your desire for me to desire your pleasure. Which I do. You’re beautiful and I have a deeply ingrained tendency to want beautiful people to feel pleasure. This is part of your magnificence as a goddess of love and pleasure, you make clear the difference and similarities between the two, and to help me see my own beauty and desire my own pleasure, and to see the beauty in everyone and help them achieve their own truest desires. Authenticity is important to you, and you’ll help me embody my truest self. Everyone’s truest self is beautiful; if they’re not beautiful they aren’t being themselves— or, the person looking at them isn’t seeing who they truly are, due to a block in their own self-image. People are wrong when they say you have an ego. When people dare to compare themselves to your beauty, they’re saying they completely embody love itself. Humans can’t do that. So, we’re lying. I am not you. I will never be love or beauty or pleasure herself. I am a human, not an embodiment of a concept, which is the essence of goddess.

You’ve said to me that I can come here whenever I like, and sit in your presence to learn like I have here. But it’s important that when I do I make it holy— don’t do it standing in line at the grocery store or in the middle of a conversation with someone else. This is a sacred time; and I will respect it. Separation is important for growth, concentration of energy— not a soup. A sharpening.

I would like to know how you relate to the Christian God yhwh and his son Jesus, and their order of angels and the demons they believe in. I know this is not your job, but if we encounter problems, it will probably be related to Christianity. I’m hearing you say no to this. And that I’ll understand why later. I promise not to bring it up again. You’re not going to fight for me. It’s my choice how much of my life I want you to take up. You will ask, and I will ask, and we are friends. If I want to serve another god more than I serve you, you will respond how you want to, and I’m not entitled to you telling me what that would be in advance. But you respect me and love me and won’t hurt me unless I blaspheme you. You respect my boundaries to work with who I want.

Thank you for this time. In addition to your waterfall, I will leave you something from my fridge, and we can share some chocolate. Is there anything you would like to say before I go?

-yes, but a NICE razor, money doesn’t matter.

-moisturize your face, do your make-up before you go to the store

-the hair skin and nails gummies are good, but you need vitamin D and iron more.

Thank you 🐬

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rodanseys · 7 months ago

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ok i lied i know, in my gut, this is in reference to taylor. so i’ll bite. and i'm not going to hide this behind a read more, so just scroll for folks who don't want to read it when they see it.

first off, depending on your definition of stan, i may or may not already have “unstanned” taylor. my relationship changed ever since the pandemic, when celebrities in general were exposing themselves as being so out of touch. i started emotionally distancing myself from her then, not because of anything she had done, but just because i was growing up and part of that growing up was understanding parasocial relationships and where i wanted to place my boundaries with her. this still was a net positive relationship with her, but i was still far more parasocial at that time than i am now.

ever since dating matty healy, i became far more critical. i think that’s when i really emotionally unstanned her insofar that i want to be known as a swiftie in the way that her music has shaped my life and i want to believe she’s a good person, not that i believe she’s perfect and will defend any decision she makes. and that i’m willing to retract my faith in her if she gives me enough consistent reasoning. if you don’t think stans can be critical, then maybe i’m not a stan by your definition.

her silence on palestine is disappointing to say the least. you can look all over my blog for incredibly articulate posts from other swiftie tumblrs about why. in general, i’m not of the opinion that celebrities are politicians. i think it’s grim and dystopian that we have to depend on celebrity activism to encourage and persuade so many people. it’s not taylor’s fault that is the case, but it is the reality of the world in which she finds herself an incredibly wealthy and privileged celebrity, thus she should use her platform. she shares an understanding of this responsibility in miss americana and a desire to use her platform better; this only makes her silence and hiding look more cowardly.

i also think it is hard to find a clear line where you should stop consuming the art of someone problematic. this is because everyone is problematic, including me, including you (anon), including the reader of this post. problematic needs to be neturalized as a term because it’s just the way humans are. we have biases, we make mistakes, we do bad things while knowing they are bad. i am generally against cancel culture for this reason (also, because it is more in-line with punitive justice vs. transformative justice, and i think punitive justice needs to be abolished completely).

sometimes, the horribleness is clear and the art just can’t be separated, like with jk rowling. i’m not going to buy anything that’s going to send my money towards racist and anti-trans lobbying. i don’t think any amount of nostalgia should let people off that hook, but i do empathize with people's disappointment towards not being able to engage with a franchise they love because of the harm it is still actively causing to fund its creator.

taylor is different because she’s not funding anything harmful but she isn’t helping when she can, which is making myself and so many other fans really stop and think if she’s the person she says she is. she keeps saying she wants to go to other planets where only gentleness survives, that she wants to go to the 1800s except for the racism. well, when you can defend a white woman against weird and invasive comments on her body, but can’t use that same energy to post a link to help women of color escape from being bombed, i can’t really believe your self-declared anti-racism.

and that’s where the lines blur and it gets hard. because it becomes so much more about every fan’s individual relationship with taylor and how comfortable they still are consuming her music. after info about matty came to my attention when they were dating, i stopped listening to the 1975 fully and they were one of my favorite bands. that was a hard and fast line for me. i can cut out artists and will.

but taylor wasn’t always just an artist to me, which is the whole problem. she was so close to fans and real with us at the beginning of her career. now, she’s a secluded millionaire who, for reasons both valid and awful, refuses to listen to those same fans who she used to invite into her homes. i’m willing to both admit and call her out on that huge pendulum shift. but i’m still trying to understand what this means with my engagement of her art. even if it isn’t stanning, or being a die-hard, there are songs by taylor swift that touch me more than almost anything else in this life. the best day is a song that was played at my grandma’s funeral to memorialize her best friendship with my mom. sparks fly will always be about my childhood crush, dylan, who has green eyes. i was in a really, really, really dark place when lockdown lifted (almost lost a job and was living alone); listening to folklore helped me get through intense loneliness, self-doubt, anxiety, and anger. her music has guided me through stages of my life and the image she has made for herself, regardless of how real it ever was or how much it has changed, inevitably impacted my ability to look at her with critical eyes.

in my tweens and teens, i was teased and bullied for liking taylor. that, alongside seeing her criticized for sexist things and given death threats during rep, made it even more difficult to accept that there are valid criticisms of her. over those YEARS, friend groups and families treated me as her defacto defense for any widespread gossip, which also made it difficult to separate her opinions and values from mine (i know this sounds extreme, but it is the truth). i have moved away from these ways of thinking now, but it was incredibly difficult. i imagine that a lot of longtime fans can relate to the difficulty of removing yourself from this parasociality, especially those who have also grown in their own social consciousness as time passed. i am perpetually grieving the relationship i used to have with her.

because of those complexities, i think all fans should be able to decide where their own breaking point is without being criticized for it. i also think fans who aren’t criticizing taylor need to really look inwards and figure out why exactly they are so incapable of criticizing someone they don’t know. what they are trying to do or save. are your morals really less important than winning hypothetical brownie points from a celebrity who, most likely, has no idea that you exist? i also don't get the argument behind calling people "fake fans" because it just has shallowness all around.

so those are my current thoughts on stanning, specifically in relation to taylor. i don’t expect everyone to have exactly the same opinions and would love to have conversations (not fights over anon or passive-agression in tags) if people want to talk more or just have reassurance from a fellow swiftie who is really struggling with taylor’s inaction right now.

and i’ll end this by saying that, while i think it’s always important to criticize celebrity culture, i am, myself, privileged to be able to have this conversation right now when people across the world are being martyred. so…

do your daily click

donate to PCRF

donate to gazafunds

donate to swiftiesforpalestine

have difficult conversations with your loved ones (who you can influence more than taylor)

etc

(also, these are the opinions i hold as of today. things will probably change and evolve. i hope you all will treat me, and i will treat myself, with grace when this happens).

unstan

you gotta say a bit more

#taylor #music #anon #answered #long post

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bestworstcase · 3 years ago

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i think what’s so interesting wrt the cassandra-rapunzel communication problem—& part of what’s frustrating about the wider fandom acting like it’s in any way cassandra’s fault that rapunzel deliberately ignores the things she says and the very clear boundaries she consistently tries to lay down—is that like

it’s not rapunzel’s fault

but i do think it’s something she does deliberately, not out of malice but because that behavior is something gothel trained her to do, by playing nasty little mind games and gaslighting the fuck out of rapunzel for eighteen years and cultivating the relationship we see in tangled wherein rapunzel is made responsible for managing gothel’s feelings and divining the true meaning behind everything she said and being punished with sly verbal abuse whenever she failed. and like, that’s the only communication model rapunzel has.

(even the situation with eugene kind of reinforced that, i think; not because eugene is in any way like gothel but because the person he initially presented himself as, flynn rider, turned out to be a façade rapunzel needed to see through in order to get to know the real eugene, which…is not that different from the interpersonal model rapunzel learned from gothel, really. people have a mask that they show you and it’s your job to ignore it and look past it and see the real face underneath, or else…bad things)

(also rapunzel gets tossed into serious princessing within WEEKS of leaving the tower so i am sure like the majority of people she interacted with at this point being POLITICIANS didn’t help, lmao)

and then she meets cassandra and. beginnings establishes that the first thing rapunzel is drawn to about cass is that cass doesn’t have a façade; cass is blunt and honest and real—(which is a perception that, tangentially, i think also contributes to rapunzel’s ongoing blindness to the social and class disparities between herself and cass, bc despite cass saying so Out Loud, Many Times, until the very end of the show raps never does quite grasp that cass has a job to do and does in fact maintain and desire a level of professionalism and separation btwn her job and her personal life in spite of her straightforward demeanor)—anyway, the point being, i think rapunzel DOES have a genuine social knack buried under all the layers of trauma and awful conditioning she got from gothel, because she’s able to identify instinctively right from the start that cassandra Isn’t Like the two-faced people rapunzel is surrounded by. which like, i’m not using two-faced as a value judgment here, just—rapunzel is surrounded by politicians and diplomats and servants and courtiers and one freshly-reformed charismatic thief and all of these people very fluently speak a social language that rapunzel doesn’t, one which requires them to play certain roles that might be wildly disconnected from their true selves, and rapunzel herself isn’t equipped to parse the distinction between that and what gothel was. so: she sees cass, who plays the game just enough to stay out of trouble but also openly chafes against it, and immediately is drawn to her because cass barely plays and openly resents the game.

so like, rapunzel knows that cass is Different From Other People and yet—even knowing that she doesn’t and honestly probably can’t just take things cass says at face value, because taking anything anyone says at face value goes against everything she’s ever been taught about how people work, and she likely legitimately cannot fathom that when cass Very Clearly says things like “we are not friends” she just… means them. & then ofc beginnings involves cass pursuing a career opportunity that would take her out of corona and rapunzel finding out and feeling personally betrayed and doubting her own instinct, which…again i think probably just reinforced this conditioning

and the end result is rapunzel through no fault of her own ends up in this WEIRD zone where she recognizes that cass is a basically honest person who doesn’t hold back much on her opinions but also rapunzel doesn’t trust that and maybe doesn’t trust her own perceptions enough to fully accept that when cass says no to something it’s okay to take her at her word—all exacerbated by the fact that cassandra at the end of the day can’t enforce boundaries with rapunzel except by expressing frustration when they’re violated, bc she’s rapunzel’s servant. so like, genuine consequences of transgressing cass’s stated boundaries aren’t even possible—it’s not like cass can remove herself from the situation! so how is raps supposed to learn better? she can’t.

but there is that deliberateness to it, because a) rapunzel has this instinctive perception of cassandra’s straightforward nature and b) cassandra herself nine times out of ten says in plain terms exactly what she wants and often why, and while it isn’t rapunzels fault that she has this fuckton of baggage ignoring what cass says in favor of trying to divine her ‘true’ feelings IS a choice that she makes, out of anxiety and self-doubt and just flat out not having ever learned any other way to treat people

& i mean i talk to death the subject of cassunzel fanon stripping cass of agency and making the uwu poor friendless repressed sad useless idiot lesbian rapunzel needs to rEsCuE and bRiNg OuT oF hEr ShELL but it’s like. not quite as but almost as frustrating how framing rapunzel as like, basically cassandras emotional support animal and also someone totally blameless and totally ignorant in her treatment of cass takes away rapunzels agency and intelligence too. (this girl grew up isolated in a tower with no one to talk to but her abuser and a chameleon and she fucking taught herself physics and astronomy and how to cook and bake and make music and paint, and you expect me to believe that in two years she never once even thought “hmm cass told me not to do this, but…”? like first all that’s not the defense of rapunzel you think it is because that level of ignorance legitimately makes people dangerous, and second of all it’s just literally not true like, in BEA/WTH rapunzel understands perfectly well that cass doesn’t want her to share cassandra’s secret with eugene and after multiple conversations on the subject decides to do it anyway! in UR she literally says out loud on two separate occasions that she knows cass doesn’t want her to pry and proceeds to do it anyway! These Are Choices She Is Making)—& i just

like the girl is anywhere from six months to three years out of a horrible isolated abusive lifelong situation depending on what part of the show you’re looking at and yeah of course her choices are shaped by her trauma but—god, they’re still HER CHOICES. and i guess i just don’t understand the appeal in watering down the agency rapunzel has in making those choices and the complexity of why, because rapunzel isn’t an idiot and she does know that cass really doesn’t want her to do things sometimes and there are times when she very openly displays discomfort or hesitation about transgressing those boundaries but does it anyway because doing what she feels like doing—to soothe her own anxiety or guilt or curiosity or whatever!—just… feels better in the moment than trying to be respectful of cassandra’s personal space. like, it’s not her fault she’s like this but if she wanted to change she absolutely could? cassandra in a lot of ways is the ideal person to learn about boundaries from because she’s the kind of person who says exactly what she means 95% of the time and if raps were to like, make a genuine effort to tackle things im positive cass would’ve been more than willing to help raps figure out some strategies for managing that anxiety—even as it is cass despite her frustration with constantly being trampled over showed rapunzel a lot of patience and understanding!! this could so easily have been something they collaborated on together and became even closer through, but… it would have been uncomfortable and rapunzel isn’t good at discomfort! she deals with it by shoving it down and pretending everything is fine even when she knows it isn’t!

& like

that’s good that’s a good thing characters having agency in their fuckups and making choices that they know aren’t right bc it happens to feel better is good—all of this is why rapunzel is such a neat character and a huge part of why tts was so great, bc it took the very rosy fantasy of rapunzel as this sweet ball of sunshine virtually untouched by the horrors of her upbringing besides her endearing naïveté and threw that out the fucking window to treat her like an actual goddamn person instead, one who does try her best but still makes mistakes and also sometimes just flat out makes shitty selfish decisions, bc trauma is messy and recovering from abuse is hard and people can be complicated and contradictory and more than just one thing, and—just, god, why would you want to take that away from her by treating every bad choice she makes as something fundamentally outside of her control?

#i am just thinking tonight abt how much i love that tts rapunzel was allowed to be FUCKED UP #like? even within the restrictions of disney princess #she feels so complex and REAL #how profoundly amazing is it that we’ve got a disney princess #who deliberately makes choices she knows to be wrong over and over bc it’s too hard to grapple with her monumentous pile of baggage #and then has that blow up spectacularly in her face when the friend(s) she harms lash out at her #and you pick apart these choices and there’s just layers and layers of overlapping reasons underneath #all of them understandable and logical based on her past and present circumstances?#s3 executive meddling nonsense aside. the emotional realism! is good!

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corruptedsilence · 2 years ago

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Anonymous asked: I am sorry, I followed to rp with you but you seem to not want to follow me and so I have chosen to terminate my follow of you so that we can both go about our separate ways and live our lives to the fullest. May you live in peace and harmony I hope you have cheap gas and have a good job and have a loving family one day or a life alone if that is what you would prefer. I also hope you have health insurance and a nice car and a reason to feel good about living in a world that sometimes only ever seems like it wants to take away from us all. I hope I have not hurt your feelings by unfollowing you, I do not want to hurt your feelings but it is just really awkward for me personally to be following someone who does not follow me for various reasons. I thought long and hard about this decision and I feel it would be best. Again, I mean no disrespect and I hope you are not angry with me. Goodbye.

Dude............... I don’t even know who you are. Do you know how many followers I have? I have like 172. Some are other RP blogs, some are personal blogs. I do not follow every single person who follows me. I keep my dash clean and clear and as safe as possible for me.

If your blog is a personal blog, I will not RP with you, I don’t RP with personal blogs, so if you don’t make a distinction of your blog then yeah, I’m not going to follow you. I have every right to say no, to following someone. You are not entitled for me to follow you, I owe you literally nothing as a stranger on the internet.

I find it really funny that you phrase this like “we’ll go out separate ways” as if we were ever going the same way? My dude, I don’t know you, I’m not hurt by this and frankly if you had left I probably would never have noticed much of a difference. I’m sorry that it’s the truth, if you never reached out, never spoke to me, or send an ask, I will not know much of a difference if you unfollow me especially if I was never following you.

For 2) I am not mutually exclusive. I understand people who are, and I respect that, but I will RP with non-mutuals. IT might be a lil hard since I dont see you all the time and notifications are weird but I’ll happily RP with people im not mutuals with because my dash I want to keep safe, but sometimes people have a right to post things I don’t want to see, and that doesn’t make them bad, I just dont want it on my dash but that, to me, doesnt mean I want to cut all ties.

I understand it’s awkward for you but you legit are just making everything worse by sending me this ask. You could have just left without a peep and it would be fine, but making this ask, is guilt tripping. You are trying, whether you mean to or not, by your words to make me feel bad because I have boundaries and didn’t want to follow you. You’re phrasing things in such a way that you want me to feel bad and be upset and sad because I have and enforce boundaries. Well I’m not, and TBH I’m laughing at this more than anything to think someone is entitled to my time and will try to make me feel bad when you made little to no effort to even speak to me let alone make yourself known to me.

With all due respect, this is extremely disrespectful. You putting this big goodbye letter *on anon mind you* so I dont even know who you are, cuz I could have kept it private otherwise but ya know, that’s gone, but you put this here like it’s supposed to mean something when; I don’t know you.

Sorry dude, I’m not going to feel bad if that was your goal or whatever this was trying to accomplish because this, if anything, just makes me want to never interact with you ever, period.

#Anonymous #Delicious Knowledge // IC #Negative TW #;; this legit to me reads like a bad soap opera plot #;; im just laughing at this tbh

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aroaceacacia · 3 years ago

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Hermittwt be like “I’m going to ignore the whole argument and focus on the fact that people are trying to defend “irl shipping” fuck you if you don’t care about the irl people and focus on the storyline and rp you’re shipping real people no matter what and I’m going to harass you for it even if you’re just saying not to harass people”

what upsets me is the way people leap to and go out of their way to talk about how bad shipping is, and at the same time I've only seen one person say "I dont like shipping but harassment is bad"; meanwhile, the "hermittwt carrd" (ostensibly the rules guidelines for their community) states some of the following things

- a statement about how some hermits are ok with shipping but "shipping actual people" can be uncomfortable (nobody ships the actual human hermits but okay fair we all have different boundaries)

- hermittwt as a whole "does not condone irl hermitshipping" (again, nobody is shipping actual human people, and I do think its weird to use "condone" here, because "condone" implies morality and again it all ties back into hermittwt's treatment of shipping as a deeply moral thing and their view of being against it/shippers as something just)

- "if you are uncomfortable with anything someone said, dm them! please don't accuse other members of the community on the timeline" (and yet it's okay for people to force an artist to apologize for appropriately tagging their art as ship, to publicly and continuously react negatively and warn people away from another artist?)

It just makes me so incredulous that hermittwt have these rules, and yet they break them when it comes to shippers, because shippers arent allowed to be part of the community. shippers are the outgroup and so when someone goes onto hermittwt and stirs the pot a bit almost nobody condemns the harassment and shaming. because at the core they agree with it.

fundamentally, some people understand hermitcraft differently. im sure hermitblr was deeply influenced by the yogscast fandom, who have been forcibly separating art from artist since at least as far back as 2013. im sure hermittwt was deeply influenced by dream smp fandom, which (despite often being About Roleplay thats very clear that Its Fiction) blurs the line between "being a fan of this creator" and "being a fan of this character"; you aren't often only one, usually you're both.

Honestly? I kind of hope one of the hermits tells them to get their act together. I want to see how they react when they've been scolded

#asks #discourse #hc discourse #twitter

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minachuuu · 4 years ago

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Mafia!Red Velvet Reaction to being teased for their soft spot on their S/O

⚠ TW: Swearing, guns, knifes, mention of kidnapping & murder.

Irene

A feared boss in her city, her gang is known for pledging an undying allegiance to her, and while every rival family tries and tries to look for one, it's bold of anyone to believe Joohyun has any type of weakness. But that doesn't mean that she isn't capable of loving.

Of course you knew about her job and her status, but everything about her ruthless reputation sounded so wrong to you. She wasn't sinister, heartless and wicked at all, but a super attentive, caring and sweet girlfriend. Your only connection to that world was your girlfriend, both being completely clear that you didn't want in on the business. But even if Joohyun knew to separate her personal life from her workplace, some of her subordinates sometimes mistake her amiability and cross lines she defends very ardently.

A disappointed and terrified gasp filled the table when a newly promoted subordinate had the guts to get you into the conversation unprompted and even jokingly call you the 'weak spot' of the gang. His laughter started dying after nobody followed him into the joke, only to be instantly cut when the click of a gun was heard at the end of the table.

"It's never a bad time to remind you all of certain rules," Joohyun's mouth was far from a smile, as she waved the point of the gun around the table, finally landing over the petrified man. "Just in case any of you forgot."

The man gulped hard, his hands shaking in the armrests of his chair as Irene went out in a knife-cutting tension rant, enough to make everyone, even the closest members sweat their nerves out.

"... But Y/N name is not to be out of anyone's mouth but mine." Joohyun put away the gun, not lowering her guard and the killing glance. "I hope it's perfectly clear, because I only warn once."

Seulgi

If it wasn't for the fact that Seulgi and some of her gang members were on the most wanted lists across the world, anyone could be fooled into thinking they were a totally normal, high-end suburban family. Since you both started seeing each other more seriously, she was clear about her job and identity, and enthusiastically introduced you to her gang.

Of course you were a little scared at first, but everyone received you with open arms and warm smiles. And even if you wanted nothing to do with the business itself and Seulgi respected that, you couldn't avoid some of the reunions that came with being a partner of the boss.

"I'm trying to close the deal with the casino owner down the strip, but if he doesn't agree with this final terms we'll be forced to get rid of hi-" You arrived at the table with a hot cup of coffee for her, as her tone, face and eyes completely shifted, glowing mesmerized by your image."Thank you sweetheart, come take a seat!"

The rest of the gang at the table started chuckling at the image in front of them: the one and only unbreakable boss, all melted at the sight of her lover. She scanned around, taken aback by the laughter until one subordinate dared talking.

"Not to be a disrespectful boss," The man was lightly giggling through his words, but intending no harm. "But it's a little hard to take you seriously about exterminating someone when you look like a huggable teddy bear."

All the room laughed at the comment, including Seulgi herself. She could take all the teasing the members wanted, but the moment anyone laid a finger over you, it's a total game over for them and they knew it.

Wendy

There still were some things that you hadn't got completely used to even after all this time dating Seungwan, especially the entire mafia thing. She was such a sweetheart with you that when you joined her and her gang members on the meetings and that sort of stuff, it was so weird for you to listen about kidnappings, money and sometimes even murder coming directly from her mouth as if it was a normal theme for conversation.

The family actually liked you and had a good relationship with you (Pity for anyone who didn't and Seungwan heard about it), but they also knew that you didn't want to get involved with the business at all, so they mostly stayed out of your way and off their mouths. But there were other unfortunate times when someone blurred the lines and dared crossing them.

Driving to your summer home, two subordinates, your girlfriend and you joked around like normal people for once. Everything was doing just fine until the man on the copilot seat decided to abuse the trust of the situation a little too much.

"You should know Y/N," He started chuckling, "I had never seen Seungwan so head-over-heels for a dumb wh*re befor-"

Not a second had passed when the man was already being pinned back to his seat, with a knife pressed against his throat.

"I didn't know you decided to practice comedy!" Seungwan kept laughing as she caressed his skin with the blade. "That was to die for! Don't you think?"

The man immediately apologized, begging for his life with every word, when Seungwan slowly took the knife back to her pocket.

"It's Mrs. Son for you." She snapped, taking your hand in hers. "You wouldn't want me to remind you about respect a second time."

Joy

For being a big mafia boss, Sooyoung was a pretty venerated figure in the city. Her gang was known mostly for investing around the city and being overall pacific, of course, unless provoked. Nobody could deny the closeness of the family either, but it didn't mean it was all flowers and rainbows, it's a power game after all.

One that became a little more tense when you started dating the one and only boss, almost immediately after being welcomed into the family. Some of the other members thought you had no right to be by Sooyoung's side all the time, always locked in her office with her when there were members devoting their entire life to the business, as if being her partner was a position to be employed for.

"I thought the boss would be more intelligent than that," One of the subordinates started, "Y/N has her under their grasp, it's getting ridiculous."

"Y/N doesn't even have the guts it takes to be in the business," Another subordinate followed. "It just makes the boss look wea-"

"Excuse me? It makes me look how?" Sooyoung's voice coming through the door made every person's hair stand on end, as she walked past fixing the cuffs on her shirt.

There was nothing that annoyed her more than those comments. Being the chief of a large and busy family was overwhelming at best and the fact that you were a little more outside of the whole thing wasn't a hindrance, it was her perfect escape from this black and white reality she led.

"There are so many things that can be considered weak, like rumors, infighting, and even that blazer." Sooyoung pointed at one of the subordinates' clothes as she continued talking, everyone's legs shaking from terror. "But loving someone is not and will never be a weakness."

Yeri

When she told you that she was the Kim Yerim, the youngest mafia boss to ever be wanted by governments across the world, you thought it was all a joke. There was no way this caring, funny, kind woman was the one and only leader of the biggest gang in the city. But she was.

And the surprises definitely didn't stop there. The reputation of the gang was absolutely nothing short of coldblooded, so of course it was surprising when the entire family received you as one of theirs into their circle. You stayed off their affairs, but still were a very welcomed presence at dinner and parties. The higher ranked started treating you as one of their own, teasing you and their boss, drinking and laughing, even protecting you when Yerim wasn't around.

But there was an unfortunate day for one clerk though, because just as you both were leaving the dinner party, you over heard from his mouth call you both a 'bootlicker boss and their dumb sidechick'.

"Hey," Yerim's call was enough for the man's face to go translucent, as she pointed back at him. "Follow me to the office please…"

You were safely escorted back to your house, where Yerim arrived later in the evening and refused to talk further on the matter. The next time you came back, you greeted everyone but didn't fail to notice a tense air going around in your presence. That's when it dawned on you.

That clerk that insulted you was nowhere to be seen. Everyone, even you, knew exactly what happened to him.

"It's not bad to remind the rest of their place," Yerim placed a kiss on your cheek as she intertwined her fingers with yours. "If I don't set the boundaries, who else will?"

#red velvet reactions #red velvet imagines #red velvet scenarios #tw: guns #tw: murder #tw: swearing #tw: knives #red velvet irene #red velvet seulgi #red velvet wendy #red velvet joy #red velvet yeri #mafia!au #mafia!red velvet

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