#REALLY LONG RESPONSE WOW

[keepyourpantsongohan]

I have a Venn Diagram to share

[knockknockitsnickels]

Thoughts about Prison3r bc she's making me go insane

Spoilers under the cut (also minor spoilers - chapter name & brief discussion of other routes - in the tags, so don't read those lol)

I have a feeling the Cage is going to get overshadowed by Sp3ctre & Happily Ever After, but I was really surprised by the direction they took her in, and I think she makes Pris all the more tragic as a character.

IMO, the Prisoner route kind of functions as a giant trust fall. You've established in the previous chapter that you're skeptical of this whole setup (hence voice of the skeptic, lmao) and willing to help the Princess, and this route puts that to the test. Can you focus on what's important without getting caught up in questioning irrelevant details (the empty shackle)? Can you trust the Princess enough to give her your weapon? And on the other side of that, can she trust you to understand her plan?

Part of what makes the Prisoner compelling to me is the unspoken trust she has in the player (part of why I've never understood the take that she doesn't actually care about you? Maybe we've got some Autism2Autism telepathy going on though). Her lines in the Shifting Mound fight (if you free her) talks about how "shared skepticism blossomed into trust", and the Drowned Grey further implies that she put a lot of trust and hope in the player which they ended up betraying.

I was expecting Prison3r to play with that betrayal of trust - she showed we could trust her, but her trust in us was misplaced. It doesn't really matter if you leaving the head was an honest mistake or not, we still let her down. I was expecting a scenario where we'd be stuck apologizing to a Princess who couldn't bring herself to trust us again, no matter how sincere we were being. I was expecting her to be angry. I didn't expect her to just... give up.

If the Drowned Grey is meant to represent the Prisoner (metaphorically) letting go of the tight control she has of her emotions, (literally) drowning you in her (metaphorical) grief and rage, then the Cage is the opposite, locking her emotions even deeper away. Shifty describes her as (paraphrasing here, emphasis mine) "someone who wishes she could be just a set of eyes and ears." The Cage isn't angry with you for leaving her behind. Why should she be? It was her mistake, after all. She shouldn't have been so stupid to think she could break the cycle and actually be freed.

The route also plays with the contrast between the Princess and the Player (via the voices) in fun ways. While the Cage is already resigned to repeating the cycle, skeptic (and paranoid, if you get him) are panicking for the whole route, trying desperately to find a way out of it while unintentionally forcing you to into the same patterns as before (by forcing us to take the knife. Thanks guys, very cool).

It honestly feels like the perfect response to the common fan complaint of "Why is the Prisoner mad at you for leaving her head behind? It was an accident!". Well, here you go. She's not mad at you. It would honestly feel better if she was.

[sharknark]

⬇️rant about a really good hengren (reverse renheng) fic i read. link at the bottom give it a whirl

i've never read a fic so well-catered to my tastes before in my life and the best part is that i was so caught off guard by how good it was cuz the tags and summary had me like "right this is some omegaverse-esque, rawr XD mating shit"

but from the very first paragraph i realized it wasn't just ao3-typical possessive mating shit it was (dare i say) IN CHARACTER possessive mating shit. underappreciated dan feng lore is the two hearts shit, duty expects him to smother his own empathy and perform cruelty obediently (and that being in his dragon form literally numbs his empathy towards mortals) but then it's flipped around and he's criticized for being too heartless

there aren't a great many english fics that take advantage of the 'numbed empathy' thing, so this fic using that to explore the toxic codependency that drove dan feng to making yingxing immortal in the first place is so!

dan feng's dragon heart prioritizing it's own indulgence and power, his human heart screaming against it for empathy and restraint, but both hearts united in this possessive adoration of yingxing... dan feng is possessive to the point of harming his partner, forcing them to take his affection, inherently contradictive to the protective impulse to see the other unhurt.

dan feng makes yingxing immortal in a really sketchy operation, despite knowing that yingxing is literally defined by his pride in being a short-life. he wants yingxing to be with him so badly that he does the one thing that would hurt yingxing the most, too blinded by possession, this sickly overbearing affection, to empathetically respect yingxing's death.

yingxing lived cramming every second he could into his craft and his goals precisely because he has so much less time than all the immortal species around him, but when he's forced into immortality, his hands are scarred and ruined past the point of ever crafting again. he suddenly has so much time, all this time he would've cherished as a mortal, but is totally useless to him now that his purpose for living and passion is gone.

so there being a scene in this fic where dan feng is moping "yingxing doesn't wanna fuck because he's glued to his workshop", being followed up with a scene of dan heng fucking blade while kissing his scarred hand and crying that he's "so sorry", yeah no shit asshole, his dragon heart got what it wanted, blade has all the time in the world to fuck and nothing competing for his now limitless attention and no one's happy about it.

as arrogant about being a short-life as yingxing was, it really is compensation for the discrimination he faced for it. other immortals looked down on him, so having dan feng, THE top dog, be so deeply enamored with him stirred his own toxic codependent urges. he was so desperate to have dan feng's eternal regard that he's willing to die for him (as in the sedition), his death being the force cementing his place in dan feng's heart forever.

so the fic having yingxing ruminate on this, that he had hoped for dan feng to love him even centuries after he inevitably died, only for the fic to end with:

yeah yingxing... you left an impression... he made you immortal.... everyone's upset by this

(that's what makes dan heng forgetting blade was ever yingxing to begin with all the more painful because, you went and turned him immortal and when it backfired horrifically you went on and fucking forgot, bitch i'd be pissed to the point of centuries long bloody pursuit of vengeance too.)

here's the fic go read it and leave kudos and a comment, technically porn but i got so invested in the character study that part barely registered. also yeah if you hadn't realized already super dead-dove:

blah blah "renheng is toxic" sorry that's why i like it

[themissingnumbers]

[@blue-tearss - previously, yet again.]

WARNING: At this point this entire thing is getting pretty intense in general. Warning for descriptions and illustrations of gore (specifically face and eye trauma), and a general emphasis on horror.

As the knife comes down upon him, Red does not fight back.

Red takes it.

Each swing. Each cut. Each slash.

over and over and over and over and over and

Biting pain.

The burn of an old blade.

It stings. Gods, it stings.

But to hurt is to be alive. To bleed is to be real.

He's something that is living.

Even if 'something' is not human.

Even though he's not sure what it could be anymore.

So he lets the knife glide through his skin.

Lets himself be flayed and mangled and marred.

Lets the blood flow from his wounds, and from his throat.

Because he knows it, sees it, tastes it in Blue's code.

How familiar this dying face is to him.

It makes it all the more hilarious.

Red's face, shoulders, and chest are a sanguine mess of ragged lacerations, staining the front of his shirt with the hue of a dark, dull purple, colored like rotten blood from a lifeless body. Even through the blue dye in the air, he refuses to be colored like everything else- colors of the Missing One prevailing, even with the lack of the man's typical palette corruption.

As if in tandem with the sudden absence of those horrible flickering bars that typically crawl across Red's skin and hair, Glitch City... calms. The mass eating at Blue relents when his assault ends. There's a distinct heaviness to the air, though. Each piece of the world that craved to rip and tear and consume, now twitching, bubbling, boiling underneath them. A dreadful kind of suspense.

A predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

It is waiting.

Red runs a hand down his face, over flesh marred beyond recognition, fingers tracing the dips and exposed muscle even though it burns more and more under the contact.

A single in-tact eye burns into the other.

Somehow, he still.

fucking.

SMILES.

"Y'know, I never thought I'd end up on the receiving end," he croaks, voice half-drowned by the blood that flows freely into his mouth.

"I'd always wondered what the motherfucker upstairs had been through. Thanks for giving me something educational to take from this, pal."

He spits his words at the other, underlined by the awful wet noises of viscera catching in his throat.

He steps forward, aiming to meet the other in the middle. Blue can see him trembling, shaky, unsteady on his feet- it hurts, oh Gods it hurts. It hurts more than he can describe. This pain is unfamiliar. Even if he welcomes the lack of numbness, it still hurts. It hurts. Each step he takes is more and more akin to a shambling corpse, a zombie freshly risen and struggling to hold itself upright. It hurts. It hurts.

"It's a little funny how you say you're not desperate while tryna hack me to pieces, y'know," he continues, voice growing all the raspier.

Frankly, he should be impossible to understand at this point. But there's something supplemental under his gargled mutterings- whispers on whispers from every side, quiet, but just loud enough to make each and every word clear.

"Whaddya think, that I'm stupid, or are you just in denial that badly...? I mean, when I get bored, I don't go out of my way to slaughter some doppelganger of the guy I hate most, in th' boring ol' way I did it every time before... Where's the fun in doin' something different if ya go about it the exact same, huh? You're BORED, but you aren't lookin' to change a single fuckin' thing, just attacking some pooooor defenselesss motherfucker that ya don't even know anything 'bout, don't got any grudges t' hold against...

But heyyy, heheh, it's allll in a place where your actions don't matter, cus it ain't even yyour world, must be sooo much easier, no aftermath t' worry about, that must be what yyYOU think, hhahaha..."

As he goes on, each word is more drawn out, quieter and quieter and weaker and weaker, yet biting with a sharpness that stabs deeper than Blue's blade. He babbles and slurs as if drunk- probably going delirious from the blood loss.

But he keeps chuckling, low, soft, and quiet. Barely a giggle under his breath...

Until it begins to crescendo.

Laughter slowly rising, Red tilts his head back, until he's thrown himself into a loud fit of cackling, RIGHT in the other's face, 'til he's wheezing, barely able to BREATHE through his manic laughter, 'til he looks like he could fall backwards if he doesn't catch his breath.

Suddenly, he snaps his head forward- and there IS an audible snap, like bones loudly clicking into place in a single grotesque movement- bringing himself eye to eye with the other. Sickly dull purples flicker into that distinct violent RED with a flare of corruption, cutting through everything with a vivid, bloody color.

"This place is HELL," he snarls, suddenly speaking clear as day, the amusement still glimmering in his one good eye, "but you fail to understand something important; this is MY Hell. And 'infested?' Does not even BEGIN to describe it."

His hand surges forward, grabbing Blue's knife-wielding hand by the wrist. His nails dig in, his fist closes around Blue's, forcing the other to tighten his grip on the handle. Red blood, running down his arm and to his hand in a deluge, mixes with blue, running and swirling together like mismatched paints dropped into a sick palette.

"What happened to MY Blue? You're asking the wrong question. Didn't anyone tell you to do your research before traveling, buddy? You should be asking what happened to ME. Because BLUE is free. BLUE is exactly where he is supposed to be. Far, far away from HERE. Living. Breathing. S A F E. I wouldn't wish him here for ANYTHING- shit, I wouldn't wish this on ANYONE. In fact, I genuinely feel fucking BAD that YOU managed to stumble into this shithole, y'know? You're tryin' awful hard to kill my pity, but I really am giving you the benefit of the doubt for how STUPID you're acting."

His hold on Blue's hand strengthens. With a harsh pull, and a grip threatening to either draw blood or break bone, he wrenches the other's fist down-

Forcing him to point the blade directly at his stomach.

He leaves the tip of the knife digging through his shirt and poking his flesh, only just gently enough to avoid breaking skin.

"But lookie here, yeah? Check THIS out, hahaha! If you're ACTUALLY as bored as you say, you must REALLY wanna see something new, right? If you wanna keep using me as your new punching-bag motherfucking PLAYTHING... Start HERE, would you? I bet you'll LOVE what happens next."

In a staggered motion, he releases Blue's hand where he left it. Knife still pointed forward, straight at Red's guts, but now with the freedom to let the other decide his next move.

"Still, though... Hey, let me be CIVIL and give you some actual advice," he continues, and he's heaving again, struggling with every breath, excess blood spilling from between his teeth. The surge of strength falters, and he slumps forward, putting one hand over his chest, gripping his shirt until his knuckles go white. His other hand lingers, the one he'd grabbed Blue with, shaking worse and worse with each passing moment. Red feels sick, his heart and a dozen other horrific things brewing inside of him pounding faster and faster against his ribs, restless and angry, ready to explode out of that cage of bone, simmering just below the surface. It's a nauseating feeling that's synchronized with the greater behavior of Glitch City, all while he struggles to stay awake and keep his mind clear.

"If you have ANY sense of self preservation still about you..." he drawls with an uneasy laugh, eye unfocused as he tries to stare at Blue, "then I suggest y'put that fucking thing away and start looking for an exit before shit gets REALLY ugly. But whatever ya do next, well... it's up to you...!"

Even with his lips tattered, torn off his face, Blue can feel how Red's grin widens.

"Just don't say I never warned you."

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa, circa 40-ish hours ago: Hey, what if our newest bunch of OCs adopted a baby from one of the other brothel girls who knew she couldn’t afford to raise one? That would make for some fun shenanigans :D

Me, with a notoriously non existent sleep schedule, instinct of self preservation or concern for my poor wrist: Alright, bet. Watch how fast I can make you fall in love with this hypothetical baby >:)

Daneli as a gentle and loving caretaker-turned-adoptive-mother is something that can be So Personal, actually, and originally I was going to leave it at this quick sketch, but then I got carried away thinking about what this child will grow up to be like raised by this little gang of misfits, so…

Here she is!! A little older and so, so beautiful, I need more of her in my life immediately, she’s way too precious

And, because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t also add a sapphic element to this absolute cinnamon roll, a small crack ship that I’m only half serious about for when she’s a little older still:

All in all, we may be getting impossibly far from canon, but I for one already cannot get enough of sweet darling Kumisai <3

(I fully drew three pieces from scratch in 9 hours I cannot feel my brain or my hands anymore send help)

[fuckmeyer]

Wiggins!) the bizarre thing about the vampire men in the cullen family all seem to be at least subconsciously what Smeyer wants Bella to have but can’t seem to get over her initial vision of what she saw in her drafts or whatever. It’s odd that every single one of the Cullen men are like strongly devoted (but mostly devoid of personality because it’s so Bella centric) but when you compare them to Edward they seem interesting in some ways. Like Narratively we’re supposed to have this threat that Edward is constantly holding back from killer her but I don’t feel like we see that. Conversely, Jasper is constantly the one who is suffering about human smells and is the more vampire-like. But he’s also a glorified lap dog. So it’s like ‘oh he’s a monster but he’ll never hurt me” (things Alice has said out loud. Man even psychics slip up. I swear her powers weren’t so accurate until Smeyer needed an excuse for plot reasons)

Emmett feels like when some women say they like waifish guys because they don’t want to seem like they’re vapid for liking “big dudes with muscles” so of course you pair Emmett with the “shallow blonde”

Carlisle, I swear only exists so Edward has someone to model but I would also argue that he’s proto-Edward before whatever reworking she had to do when writing Twilight for a YA audience and brought him back as a different character.

Yeah a rant

hello again bestie Wiglet! (note to self: learn Photoshop so i can shop Jacob's bad wig onto a pic of Piglet)

this is such an interesting take! thanks for sharing. i totally see what you're saying. in all the Cullen men we see both a blend of softness & devotion *and*, interestingly enough, a patchwork of patriarchal ideas of what a man "should" be. & this idea comes to the forefront with the depiction of the love interests

smeyer wants us to see Edward as the chivalric gentlemen from the Days of Yore. we see this in the opening doors, the cutsey little romance taglines ("you are my life now," "look after my heart; i've left it with you," "so the lion fell in love" etc), the knight saving the damsel in distress, the expensive tokens of his affection, etc.

at the same time, in both Edward & Jacob we see the crude traits of the Patriarchy Dreamboat kinda guy. if i had to sum it up, it's like the guy you see in 80s movies. "bad boy." "opposites attract." he's a jerk. he's a hunk. he's domineering. he's allowed to show emotion only & especially if that emotion is anger. he's persistent in his efforts to get the girl, going so far as to kiss her without her consent if it's For a Good Cause (Edward in New Moon post-Volterra, Jacob in Eclipse). he's a cool guy who's In Control 👉😎👉

perhaps that's why the Twilight saga appealed so such a large swath of women & girls. the women, who grew up with the notion that they could have the true love of their dreams so long as they submitted to the patriarchal social contract, saw the contract being fulfilled in Edward. (i.e., "you can be the king if you treat me like a princess.")

on the other hand, the 90s/00s girlies who grew up in the midst of a feminist revolution & who could see the glimmer of a dismantled patriarchy on the horizon were attracted to Edward for the flashes of radical feminist love they saw: the unapologetic expressions of emotion, the honesty of him sharing his vulnerabilities & weaknesses, Bella's ability to override Edward's will when necessary, etc.

sorry, i know this isn't really the crux of the rant you submitted, but it is extremely interesting to see these contradictions playing out in all the male characters of the saga. it's almost like smeyer is having this internal debate with herself without even realizing it...

[seyaryminamoto]

Hey, I just wanted to ask if you have abandoned the fic: How they all Reacted. It seemed to have ended with a massive cliffhanger, and you've also teased the next chapters, despite them not being there. Is the Reason-Origin of Pro Bending AU abandoned?

I don't like thinking I've abandoned fics, it's very sad to think of it that way... but the truth is I have been a liiiittle too distant from that timeline and the likelihood that I'll return to it shrinks more and more every day. It's unfortunate, I know... it was a pretty sweet, dorky fic, but I won't make promises I won't keep. I can give you a rundown of what I wanted to do in the remaining chapters I meant to write for it, if that'd help, but it's still nice to know that someone's still interested in that fic timeline. I really don't know if I'd be able to get back into the mindset for it to write the chapters properly, but thanks for asking nonetheless <3

[silverislander]

got through another church service :) (people wouldn't stop touching me without asking) (got guilt tripped abt not coming around anymore twice) (extremely aware i was being watched and judged the whole time) (everyone only seems to remember my brothers accomplishments) (they still fucking do gendered call and responses in 2023)

[unproduciblesmackdown]

forsooth reread the first part of lackadaisy and just a few excerpts, particularly w/a visual focus

like i said, that i started reading this in '07 (which, consulting the copyrights, means the end of this section was still Currently Updating at that time, very fun for me, i do also remember A Break b/w the end of that section & the first page of part two b/c i remember being so [oouhh hell yes] when that updated)

mentioning the off the shits quality right from the start and like, around this age maybe already starting to draw a bit more / beyond like doodles to pass the time at school or at home largely; not being at all very Online yet to know abt what the hell people post anywhere so like my god people not only just make their own comics, not only are they essentially ongoing graphic novels, someone can also just be making something this high quality....intriguing and just holistically inspirational on the artistic front, that people just Were out there able to just do this kind of stuff, nonprofessionally, b/c they wanted to. and just the intrigue of like, i loved keeping up with it as a whole then & since, the historical element is fun, the drama & mystery elements, the dynamic adventure aspect, the slightly lighthearted playful nature of the work overall (jellicle...), the constant relevance of Character and the constant progression of Story

but also it sure occurred to me that a big like Artistic Illumination & Motivation element of it is how immediately effectively quasi three-dimensional the art is, especially with the figures: the realistically consistent geometry in changing perspectives / characters being consistently constructed out of would-be three-dimensional shapes, the Lighting/Shading doing a ton to define the 3D shapes, the use of fabric wrinkling adding not just visual detail but following form & movement....middle school / would-be high school years as sure a particularly transformative time for my drawing like, hey, i can just do stuff, hey i can make & post niche fanart so that i'm motivated to draw just a lot more b/c i really am hardly moved to do it outside of that lmao....and i imagine that having This dropped in my lap and like, its feeling pretty immediate was this inspiration of like, organically selling this approach of Constructing Figures / to be thinking of things very three-dimensionally even when it Wasn't actually like, animation or an elaborate still life. like evidently my own art is very Line focused but i would say i'm also definitely thinking of figures as 3D like this / striving for the linework serving that too, or just generally striving for more [the Geometry works "realistically" despite obvious stylization, as it clearly does w/lackadaisy]

[krockat]

I hate feeling so embarrassed I get heated up, the worst. esp after doing some shit mistake.

augh. i hate how bad i am at relationships

[skeletalheartattack]

hi, i've been readin dragon ball for the first time these past few weeks and just finished the part where they're on planet namek. I Understand What You See In Him.

he's fucking something right??? ohhh straight up, you should see (and hear) him in the anime as well if you think you have the full picture. i've been absolutely obsessed forever

[piningpercussionist]

i knew you could do it kim, congrats ❤️

(ooc: it is extremely fun to use asks like this)

Kim taps her fingers against the rim of the sink, staring at herself in the mirror. What the hell are you doing, Kim? she asks herself, trying to keep measured breaths. She's replaying herself back, in her mind; from before the party to now, in the wake of it, struggling to adjust to the tide.

She'd had her cool when she'd first shut the door, but once she'd gone to dry her hands, she'd met her own eyes and was stuck in a bit of a loop with herself once again. Back and forth she'd go with herself, trying to muster up the nerve to step back out of the room.

Just open the god damn fucking door and go out there... toughen the fuck up.

And yet, somehow, the added expletive from the last time she'd insisted such doesn't provide the additionally spurring that she wanted. She wasn't even sure what the roadblock here was, necessarily; was it just the usual distrust? Unkillable, ugly thing- but a useful tool, perhaps simply trying to serve its purpose... The corner of Kim's lip twitches downward, eyes narrowing.

She'd be right to be distrustful, wouldn't she? Every time something's going right for her, it falls on its face- so how can Ramona make such bold claims? Especially given the woman's history! The track record so far with her partners hasn't exactly been the greatest; it isn't exactly a comfort to think back on some of them now, and how things ended for them, finally breaking her leering match to look down into the churning water.

She slowly shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Just thinking that's made her feel guilty, something heavy twisting uncomfortably in her chest. How can she even think that, still? After the way Ramona had so sweetly held her, and tried to reassure- even when she'd been pulling back from it, though unconsciously. She'd really believed what she was saying- that's what Kim had thought, at least, when she was searching her eyes the whole while. I really am a bitch, aren't I?

She grits her teeth and turns around, leaning back against the sink to prevent another staring contest. She listens to the water rush as she resumes her tapping, now facing a new problem. She didn't want to go out there with this heavy guilt still twisting her up... even if it would probably resolve things neatly.

She takes out her phone and navigates to her inbox, looking for a distraction- and apparently it's just the place; she sees a couple waiting for her, and sets about reading the first.

Seeing the familiar name, she actually smiles, sitting up a little. She still remembers her embarrassed agitation at the prodding, the night before, and how they'd even apologized later, even if a little flirty- and still riling her up for what she'd inevitably do, as acknowledged here.

Were you at Julie's party, or did you hear about it somewhere? Good grief... Thank you though, I guess. I blame whatever the hell Julie had at the drink table last night.

She answers the message privately, shaking her head a little. But then she stops, thinking again. They'd been alone in the room, save for the bunny apparently- or at least, she was pretty sure they were. Shit... Probably all the stragglers I was pushing over dragging Ramona out of there...

..That was so stupid, of course people were gonna know- they'd probably hit the nail just by assuming. That was a ludicrously bold move on her part, and were it not for the excuse of the booze, she'd be an idiot for not having considering that.

Trying not to kick herself too hard over it, she clicks her tongue in mild agitation, opening the next message.

[blood-smiles]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫

You munched on your chips, sitting in front of your laptop with a bored expression. 

A ping distracted your from your staring competition with the screen of your laptop, a bright message waking you up from your restlessness.

You had just entered your portfolio for a job as a video editor for shits and giggles, knowing that your editing skills wouldn’t score you anything. But to actually get a reply back? Wow.

JUN0 “Hey, your work is.. decent at most. You’re hired.”

The chip in your mouth crumpled on the floor, your jaw slack from the sudden message.

There was no way, there was no fucking way!

Juno, THE Juno had just hired you as his editor! You held your head in your hands, maniacally laughing to yourself as realization settled in.

..Just like that, you had gotten the best worst job in the whole entire world! Your idol had hired you as their editor, you shed tears of joy, holding your mouse in your sweaty palm tightly as you re read the message.

It had been good 6 months working for Juno. Strangely enough, your once cold and sarcastic employer had begun to soften, mellowing his usually sharp responses towards you, sometimes complimenting you work too!

Now, you really weren’t expecting him to send you a “thank you” video if you could even call it that. In summary he had sent you various pictures and a 20 minute long video that you still hadn’t opened.

You sighed shakily, bracing yourself for what the mystery video was going to show.

It was Juno, sitting in front of his camera on a soft carpet, although that wasn’t what caught your attention, it was more what he was.. wearing.

You had gifted him a maid costume on April fools, his birthday, as a joke.

But he was wearing it, you swear he had thrown it out, as he had even taken the freedom to take a picture of it in the trash.. But he kept it?

He stayed quiet, lightly glaring at camera all while huffing, as if he knew what was going through your head.

“I considered making something for you, being a.. urgh— Competent editor for such a long time..” Juno spat out his words, as if it cost him to utter praise.

“..You have been a hard worker, I suppose I should give you a little reward for all your diligent work, hm?” He tilted his head, gazing up at you through thick red eyelashes, his dark eyes consuming you.

When you least expected it, he discarded his skirt, leaving him in revealing undergarments, in that moment you immediately grabbed your laptop and threw it on your bed.

You clutched your head in your hands, no way. No fucking way had Juno just sent you one of his only admirers videos.

You looked at your roof, eyes wide and dumb founded as you reflected on your actions.

Then it hit you, moans and cries of your name came from your laptop, SHIT! you had forgotten to turn it off.

Sinful sounds and squelching bounced off the walls of your room, your speakers making sure that you had heard the audio.

You screeched in surprise, springing up from your chair you dashed to turn off your laptop, spamming the power off button as the moans became even more intense.

You sighed as you finally managed to turn off the damned thing. Putting your hands on your stomach as you heaved, your face flushed and eyes wide.

Your phone buzzed. You answered.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N). Why did you close the video I sent you?”

You have to be fucking kidding me.

mc staring at the wall like

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ hot, hot summer !

in which you got the offer of a lifetime—takes place in 2006-2009 era! @mrrpmiao miao, you’re so responsible for the brain worm you’ve instilled in my mind🙂‍↕️

a part of gojo's love entries

summer is as hot as you are pretty.

it’s an undisputed fact to satoru. after all, he chose you. so of course you were the best. he supposed even strangers here would eventually come to realize it too… as it wasn’t the first time their kind had done so.

kamakura beach was packed in summer, and he stepped away a bit to get you shaved ice only to come back to this appalling sight.

“miss! ooh! you’re so gorgeous!”

this suspicious-looking middle-aged man—with goatee, long tied hair, wearing palm shirt and beach shorts—approached you so merrily as you were chilling under the parasol.

“ah thank you…?” you pasted a taut smile, totally clueless and spooked, hoping he would go on his way.

“i mean it! your body is so—wow!” the man gasped dramatically, appraising you from head to toe. “your bust—it’s perfect! you’d make a good cover girl, you know!”

you were wearing the bikini of the same brand inoue waka endorsed at satoru’s insistence, and true, it was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

his sore eyes, specifically. not others.

satoru scowled, and he marched towards where you were. he would do his job as always—chasing away no-good men from you.

“hey you,” he barked. “what business do you have with my girl here?”

the bearded man regarded him with surprise, before he assessed him from top to bottom. “oh! you’re mr. boyfriend? whoa, you don’t look bad yourself!”

“if you’re trying to bother my—”

“no, no! you’ve got the wrong idea!” the man defended, raising both hands in surrender. “you see, i’m about to offer the pretty lady a gig as a gravure model!”

wha? you gaped. satoru blinked.

“m-me?” you stammered, flabbergasted, pointing at yourself. “uh, are you sure?”

“yes! 100% sure!” the agent man replied with stars in his eyes. “miss, with your assets, you’ll outshine even inoue waka or kaoru sakurako themselves!”

“really?!” you almost laughed. it was a strange compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.

but next to you, satoru’s face darkened, his eyes obscured. his fists clenched around the paper bowl of shaved ice so hard it shook. the next thing you know—

“here, hold this.” he suddenly shoved the shaved ice to you, before he plucked his sandal off and—

“YOU!” satoru raised the flip-flop above his head, his eyes blazing with fury, ready to swing it at the man. “GET LOST YOU SLIMY BOZO!”

“—?! WAIT, YOUNG MAN!”

and then came the most disastrous scene before you: your boyfriend chased the agent with his sandal, throwing it at him that it bonked his head, then grabbed someone’s big-ass water gun without permission and continued the pursuit, determined to catch him.

. . .

“how could you?! why do you seem even remotely interested!?” satoru fierily questioned you after he was done cooking the gravure video agent, panting and sopping wet. in the end, the two of them got into a water gun fight that ended with him winning.

you turned to him, feigning an unimpressed expression. “he said i can outshine inoue waka. who wouldn’t want that chance?”

“you can’t!” he retorted almost immediately, aghast. “i mean, yeah you can! but no! no way! you can’t flaunt your body for everyone to see!”

“why?”

“you are mine!” he pouted hard, irked. “i don’t want to share you! you are for the consumption of my eyes only!”

his blatant response made you giddy, truthfully. and as if to stress his point, he suddenly pulled you to his chest from behind, wrapping both arms around you, making you squeal.

“satoru, you’re wet!”

“so? when i marry you someday, we’re going to share a lot of things together. wet is one of them.”

“does this mean you’d pick me over inoue waka?” you threw him a suggestive smile, looking up at him expectantly.

his face then turned pink, as he smooched you in the head. “you know the answer to that, dummy.”

who would have thought that he would really keep his promise and that you'd come to the same beach years later...?

[euthymiya]

Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.

He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.

You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.

He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.

“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”

“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”

Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.

“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”

Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).

“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”

You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.

“What’s this?” You raise a brow.

“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.

Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.

Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:

▢ yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!

Your eye twitches.

Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:

▣ not a chance!

You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.

Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.

And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.

You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:

────────────────────────

Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork

Greetings office neighbor,

Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?

Thanks a million,

Gojo Satoru :)

────────────────────────

And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.

You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.

Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:

────────────────────────

Thank you for reaching out,

Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.

Hope that helps!

Your office neighbor :)

────────────────────────

Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.

“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.

“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”

“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.

Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.

“Um…” he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”

“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”

“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”

You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.

“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.

“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”

“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.

You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”

“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.

“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.

Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.

“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.

“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”