#and also would be easier to depict on screen
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My (unofficial) PJO season 2 episode 5 script part 3/4 (part 1 | part 2)
I think towards the end of this section my lack of screenwriting experience becomes more apparent but I had a vision and tried to paint the picture probably a little too much so sorry if you're an actor/screenwriter and it looks/reads weird.
Images of script and copied text (bc I'm lazy and don't want to write out alt text) under the cut, just in case I didn't tag enough spoiler warning or people aren't interested <3
Annabeth Tries to Swim Home
MATCH CUT TO: INT. DARK VICTORIAN HOUSE – NIGHT.
Continuation of first scene/flashback. YOUNG ANNABETH is still running down the hallway, but seems more determined.
Thunder shakes the windows as she runs down a staircase. She turns a corner into a sitting room. The chairs are upturned, feathers coming out of the pillows all over the floor. A draft comes in from the dark fireplace, whistling with the storm.
Annabeth stops in the middle of the room, facing the three doors that she has to choose from. They look the same.
Hearing heavy footsteps, she opens the leftmost door, closing it quickly behind her. Breathing heavily, she presses her back to the door.
Looking around the room, Annabeth finds herself in an orangery, the glass pelted by rain. Two of the large windows were cracked, spiderwebs expanding from old sites of impact. A few dead fruit trees sit in one corner.
Through the cracks and the rain, Annabeth can see a light coming from a window several rooms down on the first floor of the house. Creeping closer, she presses her hand to the glass as she watches the light.
In another room, Annabeth can see the CYCLOPS, but not much of the room. He lifts his arm, raising THALIA into view from the window. She struggles, and he looks to be laughing. He sets her back down, bending down himself as well (to tie her up, off screen).
Turning from the window, Annabeth looks determined.
YOUNG ANNABETH: (quietly) Hang on, Thalia. I’m coming.
She leaves the orangery from the second door, leading to a less Victorian hallway, one that would have been a servants’ corridor a few centuries ago. The walls look to be made of clay, and the floor is uneven in places. She nearly trips.
Annabeth creeps through an open door, entering a dark room with a long table and walls lined with cupboards. China is smashed on the floor, half the cupboard doors open and hanging by hinges all along the room. Ahead, there’s an open door, light spilling through.
Annabeth approaches, looking through to see a large room that used to be a kitchen, a large broken stove and Victorian era cookware off to one side. In the middle of the room is a raging fire. There are bones all over the floor.
Near the stove sit THALIA, LUKE, and GROVER, tied up. Luke has a large gash at his hairline, but they seem mostly unharmed. Annabeth follows their eyes to see the large Cyclops in the middle of the room, near the fire. He is already looking at her, grinning.
CUT TO: EXT. QUEEN ANNE’S REVENGE – DAY
PERCY is on deck, steering the ship through the sea. ANNABETH appears behind him, coming up from the cabin below.
PERCY: (turning to look at her) Hey. How did you sleep?
ANNABETH: Fine. I-- (pointing) Percy. Look.
In the distance, a lush island can be seen, meadows and forest on one side, cliffs and beach on the other.
ANNABETH (CONT): Are we...?
PERCY: (nodding) 30, 31, 75, 12. That’s it.
They look out at the island, closer now. Annabeth points towards a large tree.
ANNABETH: The Fleece.
PERCY: What’s protecting it? There’s no way it’s as easy as just going up there and taking it.
ANNABETH: There should be... Jason had to fight a dragon in the story. It should have a guardian of some sort.
As they watch, one of the large sheep visible on the island breathes fire, setting the grass in front of it aflame. The fire quickly dies, leaving brown grass that turns back to green and vibrant as they watch.
ANNABETH (CONT): The Fleece must keep the island unburned.
PERCY: So when we take it, it’ll just burn?
ANNABETH: (gasping) Percy, look!
On the beach is a small boat, just like the one they escaped the CSS Birmingham on.
PERCY: That’s the other lifeboat. You don’t think...
ANNABETH: (grim) We’ll never be able to get through those sheep. Sail around to the cliffs.
CUT TO: EXT. POLYPHEMUS’ ISLAND – DAY.
Cliffs and sea sparkle in frame. The Queen Anne’s Revenge sails into view around the cliffs, stopping at the base of them. Percy and Annabeth are on deck looking up at the cliffs, a little apprehensive.
ANNABETH: Come on. It’ll be just like the climbing wall back at camp.
PERCY: That’s what I’m worried about.
Annabeth glares at him. Percy readies himself.
PERCY (CONT): Okay. Let’s go.
Percy moves towards the cliffs, as if to start climbing.
ANNABETH: I’m going first.
PERCY: What? Why?
Annabeth rolls her eyes and begins climbing. Percy makes a sarcastic gesture and follows.
Percy and Annabeth climb the cliffs, steadily making their way up. Percy mostly follows the path Annabeth takes.
ANNABETH: Watch out here.
Percy chooses a slightly different path at her warning.
Suddenly, Percy’s hand slips. He dangles from the cliff by one hand. With the sideways motion, RIPTIDE falls out of his pocket, landing in the sea below. Percy looks down before refocusing on the cliff, finding another handhold.
ANNABETH (CONT): Are you okay?
PERCY: (looking down) Yeah. Let’s go.
ANNABETH: What was that?
PERCY: Nothing. It’ll come back. (turning back to the cliff) Let’s go.
They continue climbing, starting back up a little slower than they were before.
Nearly at the top, Annabeth’s foot slips.
ANNABETH: Oh!
She flounders before finding a foothold on Percy’s head. She rebalances.
PERCY: Ah!
Percy tries to remain still, supporting her in spite of his surprise. Annabeth moves her foot back to the cliff.
ANNABETH: Sorry.
PERCY: It’s okay.
ANNABETH: Sorry.
Annabeth reaches the top of the cliff, pulling herself over. She turns back and helps Percy up too. Percy goes to speak, but Annabeth puts her hand over his mouth to stop him.
They move to the edge of the ledge they are on, peering down into a cavern below. Through the crack, they can see POLYPHEMUS, GROVER in his wedding dress, a large fire in the middle of the floor, and CLARISSE, tied up.
CLARISSE: (struggling) Give me back my sword and I’ll fight you!
POLYPHEMUS: Well, bride? Should we eat her now, or save her for wedding feast tonight?
Grover flounders, nearly tripping over his dress.
CLARISSE: Bride? Do you mean Grover?
ANNABETH: (whisper) Shut up, Clarisse.
POLYPHEMUS: What is a ‘Grover?’
CLARISSE: The satyr? He’s right there.
GROVER: Oh, dear, her poor brain is boiling, you have to--
CLARISSE: In the wedding dress!
Polyphemus turns to Grover and pulls off the wedding veil, revealing his horns. Grover exclaims.
POLYPHEMUS: I don’t see so well. Not since Nobody stabbed me in eye. But you. Are no lady Cyclops!
Grover cries out as Polyphemus swipes at him.
GROVER: Oh, stop! Don’t eat me raw!
POLYPHEMUS: (pausing, holding up a boulder) Eat you raw?
GROVER: Oh, no, I’ll taste awful! I have a recipe! I’ll taste much better grilled, with mango chutney!
POLYPHEMUS: Mango chutney?
GROVER: Yes, yes. You have mangos right out there, in the forest. I’ll just wait here. You go gather them.
Polyphemus considers, before turning to Clarisse.
POLYPHEMUS: Grilled satyr. You are one too?
CLARISSE: No, you overgrown pile of dung! I am the daughter of Ares! Untie me so I can rip your arms off!
POLYPHEMUS: Rip my arms off.
CLARISSE: And stuff them down your throat! Let me down!
POLYPHEMUS: You got spunk. Have to graze sheepies now. Wedding after, with grilled satyr for the feast!
GROVER: You’re... Still getting married?
Polyphemus looks at Clarisse.
PERCY: (quietly, from above) Ew.
Polyphemus gathers his sheep, throwing the door to the cave open as Clarisse understands.
CLARISSE: Oh, no, you cannot be serious. Absolutely--
POLYPHEMUS: I come back at sundown for the big event!
He seals the cave, mumbling about mangos as he walks down the mountain with his sheep.
ANNABETH: (exchanging a glance with Percy) Come on. I have a plan.
(PART 4)
#Yes I changed the sheep#sorry not sorry#I think it makes sense#and also would be easier to depict on screen#it's still a first draft#and I am not a screenwriter#so i'm sure it reads funny#sorry#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo tv show#percy series#sea of monsters#pjo#percy jackson spoilers#percy jackson tv show#percy jackson sea of monsters#percy jackson season 2#annabeth chase#grover underwood#clarisse la rue#&thoughts#my writing#percy jackson series#percy jackson tv series
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mingyu & wonwoo : Still stuffed, one shot, double kill
w.c : 3.1 k ┊ synopsis : boyfriends mingyu and wonwoo give their bestfriend more than you could have bargained for, but you are not complaining┊ content warning : smut , best friends to lovers sorta, bisexual threesome (m/m/f) , oral sex (f + m rec) , edging , hard dom (top) wonu + sub (bottom) gyu + sub reader , slight size kink , (idrk what its called but ig sandwich sex?) , anal (m rec) a/n : note that depiction of mingyu and wonwoo as bisexual is just for the entertainment of this fic and I do not intend to impose any sexuality on them irl. also I was absolutely wasted drunk when I wrote this so I don't even know just nasty threesome.
it was just another video game night with wonwoo and mingyu. it was at your house, like always, because you had a gaming system installed in your bedroom instead of the living room unlike wonwoo and mingyu's shared apartment. and all three of you agreed that the bed was more comfortable to spread out and sit on while gaming.
you yelped from the right side of the bed, having won yet another round (well, technically you came second, but at least you won against mingyu). the screen in front showed the game over slide once again. you sighed and got of the bed to stretch your libs a little.
"i'm getting more beer," you announced seeing all three of your cans empty already, "y'all need anything else?"
"some snacks would be great!" mingyu called out. you took the empty cans to dispose off and left the bedroom.
you, mingyu and wonwoo have been best friends forever. you and mingyu had been childhood friends since you were neighbours. you met wonwoo in highschool and decided immediately to make him part of your little gang. the friendship remained as solid as it could throughout school and college.
wonwoo and mingyu had started dating around last year after pinning over each other for almost 2 years until mingyu asked wonwoo out for a date finally and wonwoo agreed shyly. you knew both boys were in some part of the bisexual spectrum and them dating didn't change a thing in your friendship. you were happy for them and rooted for them all the time, but you'd lie if you were to say you weren't a little jealous. you just wished you had someone to take care of you the way they did of each other. of course, they took care of you almost as well as a boyfriend would, but its been so long since your last relationship that you need more than just care.
meanwhile, mingyu and wonwoo had started making out on your bed in your absence, kissing nastily with wet noises enveloping the room. "mingyu, stop, y/n is gonna come soon," wonwoo whisper yells when he felt mingyu's hand get frisky over his sweatpants.
"i can't help it baby. you're so hot, winning every round like that. you deserve some reward," mingyu argues and wonwoo can't the sound that escapes his throat when mingyu latches his mouth on his neck, "besides, its been so long, i can barely keep away from you."
wonwoo chuckle, "we fucked last night."
"my point, its so long already," mingyu said sucking a hickey on wonwoo's neck. they were too lost in their own world to notice the door opening.
"uhm, guys?" you didn't mean to interrupt them, but you were also not exactly sure what you were supposed to do seeing them make out like animals in heat on your bed. it was hot to see them frisky like that, you had never before seen them get like this, but you had to remind yourself that it was not appropriate to think of your two best friends like that.
"o-oh! y/n! we're so sorry-" wonwoo stumbled to say, pulling away from mingyu and adjusting his glasses back up.
you didn't exactly know how to react. for one, it was difficult to unsee the growing bulges in both boys' pants. it wont be very easy to continue the game again after having that image in your mind. the beer you have had has made you a little horny - its an effect alcohol seems to have on you always - and your hot gay bestfriends weren't making it easier for you.
"whatchu thinking 'bout?" mingyu asks in a more teasing tone, seeing you malfunctioning and just standing in your place like a broken machine, "thinking 'bout joining us?"
mingyu was smacked on his arm by his boyfriend, "gyu! be nicer!"
"what? its not the worst idea," mingyu says, rubbing the spot he'd been hit on, "i remember her mentioning her interest in threesomes last time we got drunk at joey's. besides, i know you find her really hot, you'd love it too, right? i see this as a win-win!"
"i-i never said that!"
"oh but your eyes say it all, baby. i've seen how you check out her ass all the time. i am not complaining, don't worry, i do find her really hot too." mingyu was smacked again.
"boys, boys! what are y'all talking about?" you were dumbfounded. wonwoo checks out your ass!? mingyu finds you hot!? that's some great information to digest. wonwoo and mingyu share glances, as if speaking more than that you can hear with their eyes alone
"say, y/n, i'm horny, nonu is horny, and you could join us if you like, no pressure, but we'd really make it worth your time," mingyu says, looking back at you.
"you don't have to if you don't want to. you could say no and we'd never speak of it again," wonwoo adds.
you think about it seriously. on one hand you were really arounsed and your bestfriends' bulging sizes against their respective pants were sending blood to your crotch and they just offered you for a threesome. then on the other hand, your conscience said it was morally wrong to do this.
fortunately for you and your throbbing pussy, you had just the right amount of alcohol in your system to put your morals aside.
"okay, what the hell," you mumble and jump on the bed between the two, pulling them both by the collar. mingyu giggles as he pins you down and connects his lips to yours instantly. you feel two pairs of hands exploring your body, feeling you up and messing with your clothes. mingyu ravishes your mouth with his tongue, kissing you wet and dirty.
you are surprised when wonwoo pushes aside mingyu's head to take his turn to kiss you. you whine into his mouth, feeling the sudden change. wonwoo can taste mingyu in your mouth still, and the mixed flavours with the taste of your mouth turn him on incredibly. if you thought mingyu was a dirty kisser, wonwoo was worse. his spit was all over the places as he kissed you hungrily and open-mouthedly, and you absolutely loved it.
it must be visible on your face because mingyu chuckled at you, already taking off his clothes, "i should warn you, y/n, wonwoo may look shy and innocent with his nerdy glasses, but he is a complete freak in bed. he is a literal sex monster."
you gasped at mingyu's words. wonwoo took the opportunity to stick his tongue deep down your throat, making you almost choke. then suddenly, it was gone. wonwoo pulled back from you, making you chase his lips, but he pushed you down. he sat up on the bed, taking off his t-shirt, making you whine as he did it all so slowly.
"mingyu, take off her clothes."
mingyu obeyed so. your shirt was pulled off you, your bra taken off at a speed that your think the clasps must've broken, and your shorts yanked off. you felt cold and exposed out in the air, so you tried to approach mingyu to kiss you again, heat your body with his again. but your hair was pulled, making you fall back on the bed with a gasp.
"did i say you could kiss him already?" wonwoo's eyes were dark, and you were scared of him in a hot way which made you want to obey everything he says like a little obedient slut. you were leaking so bad from his strong demeanor, you were sure they both could see the huge dark spot on your panties.
wonwoo leaned by your ears, and whispered softly, "if i make you uncomfortable with my words or action, you can tell me to stop, yeah?"
you nodded, but you didn't plan to. if anything, you wanted him to keep acting meaner to you. you didn't know you would be into being dominated like this until now.
wonwoo snaps at mingyu after that, "open her legs up, kiss her thighs." mingyu does just that, slowly spreading you knees apart and placing buttery wet kisses long your thighs, nearing to your core. you cannot make out if the sound he makes is a laugh or a moan against your soft thighs when he sees how wet you are.
wonwoo snakes his hand down to your breasts, grabbing one in each hand and slowly kneading the flesh. "take her panties off," wonwoo commands mingyu and he does so. "lick her up. she's making a mess, lick all her juices up."
mingyu licks a flat strip along your pussy, his tongue dipping into your folds. wonwoo helps him, reaches a hand to open your outer labia with two fingers, and properly gives mingyu access. mingyu licks a long strip from your slit to your clit and you let out loud whorish moans to let it be known how much you love this.
"squeeze his head with your thighs, he likes that," wonwoo tells you and you comply with him without even thinking. you press your thighs to mingyu's ears, enough to for him to feel the pressure but not so much you'd hurt him. but that's not what wonwoo wants. "more," he he tells you, and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his head until, --
oh. mingyu moaned over your cunt, and you felt the vibrations. wonwoo smirked when he heard it too. he grabbed a hold of mingyu's short hair tightly and pushed his head deeper into your cunt. you understand now. mingyu likes being hurt like this. he likes being controlled by wonwoo. you couldn't hear what wonwoo said next, lost in the thoughts when you suddenly felt a tongue dart into your cunt, earning a choked moan from your lips.
wonwoo leaned down to kiss your nipples, sucking on them and licking them up like a hungry cat. your hands reached over his head, lacing your fingers through his soft hair. you were close already and both the boys could sense it from the way your moans got more erratic and your thighs trembled.
you were just about to reach your high when wonwoo grabbed mingyu's head and pushed him away from your cunt. a cry left your lips, your cunt spasming and clenching around nothing with all sensations gone. you felt tears filling up your eyes as wonwoo leaned down and kissed your lips.
"there, there. it wasn't that bad now, was it? i know a pretty girl like you can take better," wonwoo's words were comforting, as his hands rubbed circles on the side of your hips, but his tone was awfully teasing and it just made you want to cry harder.
wonwoo instructed mingyu to sit up on the bed against the headboard and got you on all fours in front of him so your face was to mingyu and ass to wonwoo who was preparing his dick behind you. mingyu's dick was red and hard against his belly, but he wouldn't dare touch it without wonwoo's instructions. mingyu and wonwoo were a little similar in sizes, you noticed (and it made your mouth salivate), except mingyu was thicker than wonwoo and the latter was longer.
it was more so of a punishment for you too, to just watch his painfully erect dick and not put it in your mouth. hell, you couldn't even kiss his pretty pink pouty lips until wonwoo said you could. you had only spent twenty minutes with wonwoo and mingyu in bed, but you already knew the rules of this game. you knew wonwoo was in charge of everything and you should obey everything he says, otherwise the consequences could be harsh. and that turned you on incredibly.
wonwoo played with his dick, sliding along the length of your slit, teasing you. "wonu, please," you whimpered needily.
"hm? did you say something?" wonwoo said in a fake tone, landing a smack on your ass, only to rub the spot soothingly soon after, "its difficult to hear with this beautiful pussy in front of my eyes."
you whined again, tears falling down your cheeks. mingyu was smirking at you, as if he was in any better position than you with his throbing untouched dick.
"daddy, please, fuck me," you whimpered at wonwoo.
the latter chuckled, slowly pushing his head into your cunt, already prepped and stretched by mingyu's tongue before. "shit, you're so fucking needy. just a needy little slut, arent you? don't worry, i'll fill your pussy up."
he set a high speed for you. you gasp and almost fall face-flat on the bed, only to be held up by mingyu. mingyu's other hand clutched the sheets, trying his best not to lose control. he liked being a good boy for wonwoo. the rough punishment-fuck was good, yes, but he loved the way wonwoo praised him and rewarded him better. besides, he had to be a good role model for you.
wonwoo could see the desperation on his boyfriend's face, and chuckled, deciding he deserved a treat. "mingyu has been a really good boy, don't you think, y/n? why don't you blow his dick, hm?"
wonwoo pushed your head down till your mouth was on mingyu's dick. you licked a long strip lengthwise on his erection, testing and teasing. mingyu let out a guttarial moan and you took his dick inside your mouth as far as it could go. wonwoo wasn't satisfied with your mediocre efforts, and pushed your head till you swallowed all of mingyu.
you forced your gag reflexes to relax as mingyu's head hit the back of your throat. with wonwoo's relentless speed, your head bobbed over mingyu's dick from inertia alone, not having to do a lot of work. mingyu's thighs started convulsing soon and both of you were near to your edge already. you thought if you don't let it show you were close, wonwoo wouldn't notice until you're actually cumming and he wouldn't be able to edge you a second time.
it was risky, but you really wanted to cum already.
unfortunately for you, mingyu was too obedient to his boyfriend to cum down your throat without asking first.
"wonu, i'm close," he whined, making wonwoo pull your head off mingyu by your hair, making you whine loudly. you whined even louder when wonwoo exited you without giving you the release you needed.
"you are really noisy, y'know that?" wonwoo tells you teasingly. "good for you, i love hearing your sweet voice. stay in your position. mingyu come back here."
mingyu stands up on weak legs and kneels on the edge of the bed in front of your ass, his dick the perfect height to your entrance. wonwoo took a hold of his lover's dick and slowly pushed it in you again. you gasped at the unexpected intrusion. "hold her hips, baby, or she'll fall. she's so weak, you gotta help her. now, don't move yet, be patient."
mingyu stays still, painfully deep inside you. you loved the stretch from his dick. you could almost feel his tip brush against your sweet spot - if only he'd move a little and hit it with force.
you heard a whimper from mingyu, making you look back over your shoulder. your eyes widened, seeing wonwoo fingering mingyu from the back, two fingers deep already, preparing him. you realised what was about to come instantly. you turned your back and waited in anticipation, knowing that the best blow will come with the surprise of it.
you couldn't be more right because as soon as wonwoo's hips snapped against mingyu's, mingyu's snapped against yours, going balls deep. the feeling was extreme, one of a kind, and thrilly. mingyu's dick hit every right spot at every hit, making you reach cloud nine with the feeling. if not for mingyu's hands supporting your hips, you would have fallen down already with how weak your limbs felt.
the room sounded really filthy with the rhythmic double slapping of skins mixed with your moans, mingyu's whimpers and wonwoo's groans. but certainly mingyu was having the best time among you three, with his prostrate being abused by his boyfriend's dick on one end and having his dick swallowed by his best friend's pussy on the other. his eyes were rolling back and his throat ached with the loud noises it created. he was close a second time and he let his boyfriend know of it.
"cum on her pretty ass," wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a loud smack of his hand on mingyu's ass, making the latter cry. just as instructed, mingyu exited you before cumming ropes of white semen in your ass. "such a good puppy. now help her cum too. use your fingers on her clit."
mingyu's fingers found their way to your sensitive clit, rubbing in circular motions. you barely took any time before you were squirting, wetting the bed under you with a cry. you let your body fall on the bed and turn on your back so you could embrace mingyu, who fell right on top of you. wonwoo had slowed his speed a little to let his lover come down from his high at a relaxed pace without overstimulating him.
you kissed mingyu and mingyu kissed you, both finding comfort in the wet warmth of the other's mouth. the sight was oddly a turn-on for wonwoo, who soon came deep inside mingyu's ass, giving him a creampie as he exited. mingyu rolled over on the bed beside you, eyes closed shut from the tiredness.
you vaguely saw wonwoo get up and leave to the bathroom before your own eyes fell shut. you were sleepy already, it's probably past your usual bedtime. you barely registered being wiped clean with a warm and wet towel before being dressed in your pajama shorts and a loose tshirt. when your eyes opened wonwoo was doing the same to mingyu, kissing him on the top of his head after.
mingyu rolled to his side and snuggled against you sleepily, making you giggle softly while wonwoo got himself a pair of grey shorts to put on. wonwoo pouted and mumbled something under his breath before he snuggled on your other side. both the boys practically sandwiched you, with your back to wonwoo and front to mingyu.
you saw as the boyfriends shared a goodnight kiss, the sweetness dripping, making you smile for them. then mingyu looked at you with pouted lips, and you muttered a me too? before he pressed a kiss to your lips. you giggled as wonwoo picked your cheek as goodnight too.
"so, uhm, is this a thing now? we ... three?"
"it could be, if you like."
"i think i'd like it, it be great."
"this is so perfect, my cute little boyfriend and my cute little girlfriend." mingyu chuckled.
"i'm not little!" you and wonwoo whined simultaneously.
#svt#seventeen#svt smut#svt x reader#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#wonwoo smut#wonu#wonu smut#mingyu#kim mingyu#svt mingyu#mingyu x reader#mingyu x you#mingyu smut#mingyu imagines#minwon#minwon smut#minwon x reader#meanie#meanie smut#meanie x reader
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live updates — gojo satoru.
As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking. “Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!” Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments. His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls. You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction. He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, slice of life, light hearted, domestic, romance, long distance relationship, pet names (baby, doll, baby doll, etc), banter, flirting, humour, happy ending, hurt/comfort, pining, weariness, depictions of long distance relationship, depiction of pining, depiction of weariness, depiction of slice of life, actor! gojo, non-celebrity! reader, this is how deep gojo would love you;
WORD COUNT: 5.9k words
NOTE: the people have chosen and people have chosen gojo as the second rank for the poll. i thought of this as a parallel to hey lover series!!! one can only wonder what sort of lover gojo would be, especially with the type of schedule he would have had as an actor. but i love to think that gojo satoru is the type to make everything work, even in long distance. also a lot of this was inspired by kim seokjin of bts playing games on weverse live and i hope yall enjoy that too. anyway, i love you all so much!!! please take care, keep safe. its getting colder!!! mwah <3
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IT WAS HARD DATING SOMEONE WHO WAS FAMOUS. But it was your life. Gojo Satoru, your famous singer and actor boyfriend, had been booked for an extended stint abroad, and the thought of not seeing him for weeks weighed heavily on you.
Though he’d send the occasional text or call when he could, you both knew it wasn’t enough. And especially for him — who was more clingy than you were.
But one of those nights, during one of his brief calls, your beloved boyfriend Satoru had finally proposed a plan to you as you were laying on your bed alone.
“I know you’re worried about me being away for so long. So… how about I do a livestream every week? I’ll play some silly games, and you can see for yourself that I’m alive and well."
Your brows furrowed at him. "But Satoru, your privacy? Don't you—"
"It's okay, baby. I don't mind. Plus, I know you’ll love watching me lose miserably. And you know, everyone knows we’re dating anyway. I might as well make a declaration of my love for you like this.”
You didn't think that you could argue about what he wanted.
But you can't help but feel warmth when he kisses your check.
Gojo Satoru has never loved much of life as much as he did you.
And somehow, you fall in love with him hard, again.
The following week, true to his word, your phone pinged with a notification: GojoSatoruLIVE – Silly Games & Updates. You clicked the link, your screen filling with your boyfriend’s signature grin. That had made you smile for the first time in a while.
“Hey doll!” he greeted playfully. “Miss me? I know it’s been tough, but I thought this would make things easier. So, every week, I’ll be here, streaming just for you.”
Week 1
THE FIRST WEEK FEELS EASY. Gojo Satoru started off confidently with a game that seemed laughably easy. One where you had to stack blocks without knocking them over. As the screen showed colorful blocks teetering precariously, he flashed a grin at the camera.
“Easy peasy, baby!” he boasted, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for some grand feat. With the first few blocks, he was doing fine…..until, naturally, the tower began to wobble.
You could see the moment his confidence faltered, his eyes widening comically. "No, no, no—hey, hey, hey! Stay up, stay up—"
The tower collapsed in a spectacular fashion, blocks scattering across the screen with dramatic sound effects. Satoru groaned, slapping his forehead.
“Alright, maybe not so easy…..” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as if the game had personally insulted him. “But don’t worry, I’m just warming up! Next round, guys. Trust! This will finally be a guaranteed win. Put your trust in the strongest! Baby, believe in your boyfie!”
Spoiler: He did not win the next round.
After the third round of failed block stacking, with this time with the tower collapsing before he even got halfway through, Satoru finally gave up, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms dramatically. He lets out a heavy sigh and takes a moment, moving forward on his PC.
“Okay, clearly this game is rigged, baby.” he declared, throwing a hand toward the screen. “They knew I’d be playing, so they made it impossible. But don’t worry, I’m too talented to be brought down by a bunch of blocks.”
Between his attempts to master the game, he filled you in on his week. He smiled through it, happily so. You missed how much he would yap to you. It’s alright, seeing him yap over the screen. But it was different, when he’s next to you.
“The shoots have been exhausting. You wouldn’t believe how many times they made me retake a shot where I’m just standing still. Apparently, my natural charm is ‘too distracting,’ so they wanted me to tone it down.”
He shot the camera a playful smirk, knowing full well that toning down anything wasn’t in his nature. Gojo Satoru’s charm was always going to hit. But you know he plays it for you more than anything. The rest of the world does not know how killer that charm is in the morning sun, while beside him.
“But the crew’s great, though!” he continued, glancing at the screen as another round of blocks came tumbling down. “They’re really professional—don’t get me wrong. But do you think it’s normal for someone to eat six plates of pasta for lunch? Because I might’ve done that.”
He threw in a sheepish grin, as if he wasn’t fully aware of his own ridiculous appetite. “What can I say? I ordered too much food. But it was amazing! I need to take you there when I’m back.”
Every time he glanced at the camera, it felt like he was speaking directly to you, his playful tone and teasing smile making the miles between you seem insignificant.
"Oh, and don’t think I forgot, baby. You should be prepared! Next time you have to play this with me! Bet you can’t beat my high score."
Given that his “high score” was barely two blocks stacked, you couldn’t help but laugh at the challenge.
Before signing off, Satoru dramatically wiped his forehead as if the session had been physically taxing.
“Whew. Alright, I think I’ve done enough damage here. I’ll work on my block-stacking skills for next week. And by ‘work on’ I mean completely forget this game exists. But, hey, at least I look good no matter what I’m doing, right?”
He flashed one last charming grin at the camera. “See you next week, doll. And don’t worry, my beloved doll. I’m alive, full of pasta, and missing you terribly.”
And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his silliness and the comfort that, no matter how far apart you both were, your Satoru will always found a way to make you smile.
Week 2
HE MESSAGED YOU WHEN HE WAS GOING ON LIVE. And of course, you already had some delivery food and some wine ready, watching your lover start it all up. Gojo Satoru kicked off the livestream with a smirk, this time ready to tackle a racing game. He looked way too confident for someone who spent last week losing to virtual blocks.
“Alright, this game? I’m winning first place, no question!” he said, pointing at the screen like it was already a done deal.
The race started off well for your boyfriend. Satoru’s cute character zipped off the starting line like a pro. He was looking confident about all of it. He was smirking beyond compare. He looked too handsome.
“Look at that speed! I’m practically untouchable. Ka-chow, baby! I am speeeedddd!” he boasted, dramatically leaning into each turn as if that would help his in-game car. For a moment, it seemed like he was actually doing okay.
Then he hit a banana peel.
“WHAT?!” His car spun out, and his screen lit up with the mocking sound of other players zooming past him. Satoru’s jaw dropped. “Who put that there? Who’s sabotaging me? What the hell? How am I not winning? It was so close!”
He glanced at the camera, his dramatic flair fully on display. “Alright, alright, that’s fine. I’m just building suspense. You don’t wanna see me win too easily, right?”
But then came the red shells. One after another. His car spun out more times than you could count, and by the time he finally crossed the finish line, he was dead last.
A giant “12th PLACE” flashed on the screen.
He stared at it for a long moment, letting the defeat sink in before dramatically flopping back in his chair. You giggled at his reaction. Satoru pursed his lips, looking at the camera, eyes furrowed with disappointment.
“Okay, maybe these games are rigged, baby!” he sighed, pouting like a kid who’d lost at hide-and-seek. “This is not a fair play game, game company!”
He threw his hands up in mock surrender, laughing at himself. “Who am I kidding? This game’s obviously cheating. No one’s that bad at driving… except maybe Kento. His driving is really really bad, guys. Girls, guys, gays, non-conforming friends! You should find a good driver if you don’t like his designated driver for the rest of your life!”
Before he could dwell on his loss any longer, you heard a crash off-camera, followed by giggles. Satoru barely had time to react before his door burst open, and barged into the room were Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara, looking like they were on a mission to cause chaos.
“Yo, yo, sensei! Gojooooooooo!” Yuji called out, grinning as he dove into your boyfriend’s bed. “Heard you were losing, so we came to help!”
“More like witnessing the disaster. This is hilarious!” Nobara added with a mischievous smirk, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.
Satroru tried to maintain his composure, waving them off. “I’m not losing, I’m just… learning the course.”
Yuji peered at the screen, pointing at the humiliating “12th PLACE” graphic still displayed. “Uh-huh. Looks like you’ve learned nothing.”
Satoru groaned, dramatically dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, fine! The game might not be my strongest skill. But have you seen me act?”
He shot them both a grin, trying to distract from his gaming disaster. “Photoshoots in the morning, Jujutsu Kaisen shoots all day, meetings all night. You know, someone has to look good while you two slack off.”
“Yeah, yeah, big shot.” Nobara rolled her eyes. “But seriously, how are you this bad? It’s a racing game. Even Yuji could win this!”
Yuji, looking offended, gave her a nudge. “Hey, I’m great at racing games!”
Satoru waved his hand dismissively. “Okay, enough out of you two! I’ll do better next time, promise. But let’s be real here, kiddos! You don’t come here for the gaming skills, you come here for the charm.”
He winked at the camera towards you, clearly trying to salvage his bruised ego. “Ain’t that right, doll?”
You giggled at his little flying kiss soon after.
Your boyfriend’s really the cutest person.
And as he smiled, you know that his ego recovered.
Meanwhile, Yuji had already grabbed a controller, grinning like he was about to show up his mentor. “How about I show you how it’s done?”
Nobara crossed her arms and nodded at Satoru. “Yeah, maybe let the kids handle this. You stick to acting pretty and being on time to set for once.”
Satoru’s bright eyes widened dramatically. “Oh, on time? Me? Never!”
As the chaos continued with Yuji and Nobara heckling him every time he lost, Gojo Satoru somehow managed to throw in a few updates about his week to you.
“The photoshoots are still insane, though.” he said over the sound of Yuji crashing his own car into a wall. “The pictures are going on the wall again, doll!”
“Early mornings, late-night meetings… But I’m hanging in there. Mostly because of this.” He motioned to the livestream. “You guys and you, my baby doll. You all keep me going. But well, my baby doll the most, guys. That’s my baby.”
Nobara rolled her eyes. “You’re so sappy, bro.”
“Yeah, cause that’s my baby, kid! Sorry you and Maki aren’t—”
“I’m gonna strangle you!” She glared.
Satoru only laughed and Nobara rolled her eyes, but more playful this time. Even with Yuji tackling him from the side in an attempt to “help” and Nobara giving snarky commentary on his every move, your beloved Satoru never lost that playful grin. He shot you one last wink before wrapping things up.
“Alright, I gotta deal with these two. See you next week. And trust me, I’ll win something by then. Maybe.”
But as the camera faded out, you had a feeling his streak of terrible gaming luck—and hilarious weekly chaos—was far from over. You closed your computer and heard the sound of your phone. You smiled even wider. You gotta comfort your winter bear and his pouty self.
Week 3
YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS BACK FOR MORE. And you were of course, here once again. You smiled watching his face surface on your screen. Satoru quickly started the stream with his signature grin, announcing his latest challenge for his weekly check ins. And that tonight, ladies, gents and non–binary folks, is this new puzzle game.
“Alright, baby, everyone else in this live, this one should be easy. I mean, c’mon, I’m a genius. I’ve got six eyes and an IQ off the charts.” he quipped, wiggling his fingers like he was casting some sort of brainy spell.
He clicked through the game’s introduction with the confidence of someone who definitely hadn’t been last place in a racing game just the week before.
For the first few minutes, Satoru seemed to be doing fine, solving the initial puzzles like a pro. “See? Easy stuff. I could do this in my sleep!” he bragged.
But then came a more complicated challenge, involving color-coded switches and hidden doors. That’s when the trouble started.
“Wait… why won’t this thing move?” Satoru muttered, squinting at the screen. He tried a few more random clicks, then groaned. “Okay, clearly the game is intimidated by my genius.”
He furiously tapped at his keyboard to no avail. “This is just me taking a break from being smart all the time. Gotta give the game a fighting chance, y’know?”
He shot the camera a playful smirk, but you could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to solve the puzzle. “Nah, actually I’d win!”
Minutes ticked by, and Satoru was still stuck on the same puzzle. His face was entirely frozen on his focus. But then his face fell and frowned. He finally leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up.
“Alright, alright, I’ll figure it out… eventually.” He gave a dramatic sigh, like the weight of his own intelligence was too much to bear. “But don’t worry, I’ve got this. Probably.”
As the game became less of a focus and more of a background challenge, your Satoru started chatting about his week like he usually does. He grins as he starts talking.
“Man, I really miss home, baby.” he said, his usual bravado softening. “I miss our bed! You get lost in the sheets and we get lost in the sheets together!”
Satoru immediately saw the flood of the comments.
His face immediately turns scarlet as he scrolls.
You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s reaction.
He waved his hand, “Hey comments, that was a really sweet comment! That isn’t innuendo, keep it PG!”
“The hotel’s nice, sure, but it’s not the same without you around.” He paused, glancing at the camera like he was talking directly to you. “The bed’s too big for one person, you know?”
There was a rare, genuine vulnerability in his voice, just for a moment, before he quickly shifted back to his usual playful tone. “But hey, I’m doing fine. And this, what we do here, what I do for you….this makes it easier. Talking to you like this after missing you so much, baby. This makes it all worth it. I can’t wait to be home, but yeah, I…I treasure this.”
Right on cue, there was a loud crash from somewhere behind him. Satoru jumped, whipping around in his chair. “What the—?”
The door to his hotel room flew open, and in strolled Ieiri Shoko and Geto Suguru, looking like they’d just come from causing trouble elsewhere. Shoko had a cigarette dangling from her lips, her usual cool smirk in place, while Suguru just raised a casual hand in greeting.
“Yo, Satoru!” Suguru said, settling into a nearby chair like he owned the place.
Satoru groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Ugh! Do you two ever knock?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Shoko teased, blowing out a puff of smoke. She glanced at the camera, noticing the livestream for the first time. “Oh, you’re streaming? Hey there!”
Her eyes lit up as she leaned closer to the camera, her smirk growing wider. “So, this is the famous partner, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you, darling.”
Satoru’s eyes narrowed, his smile faltering just slightly. “Shoko, don’t—”
But it was too late. Shoko winked at the camera. “You know, I’ve always thought Gojo was a bit out of his league with you. I mean, you could do better, right? Maybe someone a little more… mature?” She gave a slow, suggestive smile, clearly enjoying herself.
Satoru’s mouth fell open in horror. “Shoko, stop! Stop rizzing my pookie!” he warned, though his voice was more panicked than commanding. He glanced nervously at the chat.
But then you, ever the tease, decided to play along. You typed a comment back: "Well, Shoko, I don’t know... maybe you should take me out sometime and we’ll see."
Gojo’s reaction was immediate. He nearly fell out of his chair, his face going from cocky to full-on betrayed. “WHAT?! No! You—don’t flirt back!”
He was waving his arms wildly, trying to contain the chaos. “Baby, don’t do this! I can’t lose you like this! I’m not gonna win over a lesbian, oh my god—”
Meanwhile, Shoko was laughing so hard she had to wipe a tear from her eye. “Ooooh, now this I like!” she said, blowing a kiss to the camera. “You’re my new favorite person.”
Suguru, watching the entire scene unfold with a bemused smile, finally chimed in. “This is more entertaining than your puzzle game, Satoru. Maybe we should join your streams more often.”
Satoru looked like he was on the verge of losing it. “I’m being attacked! Betrayed! By everyone! This is treason!”
He pointed an accusing finger at the camera at you. He was sure you were giggling (you were). “And you—you’re flirting with Shoko?! I’m the charming boyfriend here, not her!”
Shoko gave him a pat on the head, like he was an overexcited puppy. “Don’t be so jealous, Satoru. It’s cute.”
Satoru dramatically slumped in his chair, groaning like his entire world had been turned upside down. “I’m never living this down, am I?”
With one last exasperated glance at the camera, Satoru sighed. “Alright, next week’s stream will be Shoko-free. I can’t take any more of this. I can’t be single because of Shoko stealing my lover!” he muttered, still pouting.
But before the stream ended, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Even with all the teasing, the playful banter, and the flirting with Shoko, Your Satoru still looked like he was having the time of his life. And that, more than anything, made the distance between you feel just a little bit smaller.
Week 4
ONCE AGAIN, YOU SAT ON YOUR BED AND WAITED FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND’S FACE TO SURFACE. After a few seconds, Gojo Satoru started the stream with his usual swagger and that massive grin on his face.
You didn’t know what he had planned this time, he hadn’t told you. He kept saying that you should wait and be patient for today. So, you let him have that time to surprise you. Your boyfriend after all just knows how to make things enjoyable for you.
“So, I’ve been thinking, baby…..” he began, leaning closer to the camera with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Why keep all this awesomeness to myself when I can humiliate my friends in front of you, too?”
He gestured off-screen, and a moment later, Geto Suguru appeared, settling into a chair beside him.
“Hey, hey!” Geto Suguru said with a casual wave. “I’m here to destroy Satoru’s fragile ego.”
Satoru laughed, tossing an arm around Geto’s shoulders. “Oh, please. I’m the one who invited you so I could have some real competition. You’re just here for moral support.”
He booted up a multiplayer game, something fast-paced and competitive, and the two of them were off to the races—literally.
Even with Suguru beside him, Satoru couldn’t help but turn to the camera every few minutes, his grin widening each time he won a round. After each victory, he’d shoot you a wink or blow a kiss.
“See that? Just for you, baby.” he’d say with a smug grin. “I’m winning like this. I am a champion for love, obviously. For my baby doll! Suguru is just here to make me look better, don't you think?"
Suguru snorted. “Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.”
As the game went on, the banter between them was relentless. Whenever Suguru would take the lead, Gojo Satoru would dramatically cry out in defeat. “This is a betrayal of our friendship!” he’d declare, throwing his hands in the air.
But then, when Satoru inevitably snatched victory back, he’d lean in toward the camera, shooting another flirty wink your way. “I win again. See? All for you, baby.”
But beneath all the fun and games, you could sense the subtle shift. Despite his usual bravado, there was a heaviness in Satoru's weary eyes that he couldn’t completely hide.
He masked it with jokes and over-the-top celebrations, but the long hours were starting to take a toll on him. His posture slouched just a little more than usual, and there was a tiredness in his voice when he wasn’t cracking jokes.
In between rounds, Satoru gave his usual updates, trying to keep things light. “The shoots have been intense, baby.” he admitted, running a hand through his messy white hair. “Long days, early mornings—nothing I can’t handle, though.”
He flashed his signature grin, but there was a flicker of weariness behind it. “I’ve got another shoot tomorrow, but I’m surviving. It’s just… ya know… typical world-class star stuff.”
Suguru glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone, Satoru. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
Satoru waved him off with a laugh. “Oh, c’mon, I’m invincible. Sleep is for mortals. Besides, I’ll be home soon, I promise.” He said the last part softer, his gaze flicking toward the camera, just for a moment, and you could tell he was talking to you. “I can cuddle and sleep more like that!”
There was a beat of silence, an unspoken acknowledgment that the distance was hard on both of you. But before the mood could dip too far, Satoru jumped back into character, clapping his hands together. “Alright, enough of that! Let’s get back to the important stuff—me kicking Suguru’s butt.”
Suguru rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, blue lagoon.”
They dove back into the game, the playful rivalry picking up where it left off. But through all the chaos, you could tell that your boyfriend was pushing through for you, making sure the livestream stayed fun, even if he was running on fumes.
As the stream neared its end, Satoru paused for a moment, turning to the camera with a more genuine smile. One that you know that was one that was eagerly hopeful.
Just a little more time, he'll be home. This will end soon. He'll be in your arms. He just has to be patient. He just has to be strong. Gojo Satoru will do it. He'll do it for you.
“Thanks for sticking with me through all this.” he said, his tone a little softer now. “I know I’m far away, but I’m doing my best to be here every week. And hey, just a little longer, and I’ll be home.”
Suguru, never one to miss an opportunity, gave him a nudge. “You gonna blow another kiss or what? The fans demand it. But I'm pretty sure your partner deserves it more.”
Satoru grinned, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. One more for the road.” He leaned in, blowing a dramatic kiss to the camera before signing off with a wink. “See you next week, babe. And I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”
But as the screen faded to black, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter how exhausted he was, Gojo Satoru would always find a way to make you feel like you were right there with him. And you wish you could reach for him and hug him and love him.
Week 5
YOU COULD TELL THE FATIGUE IS GETTING TO HIM. Gojo Satoru appeared on the screen, looking a little rough around the edges. His normally energetic presence was dimmed, and the steam from a mug of hot tea curled lazily into the air. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes before flashing the camera a tired grin.
“Okay, I’ll admit it—I’m running on fumes today!” he said with a chuckle. “But I couldn’t skip out on our weekly thing. You’d worry too much if I didn’t show, right?”
He pulled up a simple, relaxing game. A rare choice for your boyfriend. He doesn’t have patience sometimes for the low-stakes and slow games, clearly not aiming for any impressive wins this time around. It was a farming simulator, of all things.
“Thought I’d try my hand at growing virtual crops since, you know, I’m such an agricultural genius, baby.” he joked, though the usual punch behind his words wasn’t quite there.
Despite his exhaustion, Satoru made an effort to keep things light. As his character in the game wandered around aimlessly through the area, he started to give you some of the small updates about his life again between sips of peppermint tea.
“The shoots have been brutal this week. Lots of action scenes, lots of stunts... and my stunt double called in sick, so guess who’s been throwing himself through walls all week?”
He gave a halfhearted laugh, but you could tell the long days were catching up to him. “But I'm not one to give up. I’ll do my best, baby!”
Every few minutes, though, when the tiredness seemed to pull him down, Satoru would catch himself. His gaze would flick to the camera, and he’d muster up that bright, reassuring smile—the one you loved.
“Don’t worry about me, alright?” he’d say, his voice soft but playful. “I’m tougher than I look. I’ll be home before you know it.”
There was something endearing about the way he refused to let you see just how worn out he was. He’d fumble through the game, occasionally getting distracted and letting his crops wither, but he didn’t seem to mind.
The game wasn’t the point, it never was. For him, it was just a reason to be there, to share some part of his life with you, even from miles away. He wanted nothing more than to know that he's making you smile on the other side of the world, that he's with you even when he's not beside you.
Midway through the stream, he leaned back and sighed, glancing off-camera for a moment before turning his attention back to you. “You know, these weekly streams… they’re the best part of my week right now.”
His voice was quieter, more sincere now. “I know it’s silly, playing these dumb games just to check in, but it makes me feel like we’re not so far apart. I miss you, baby doll. Miss you so so bad.”
For a second, the cracks in his usual bravado showed. His weariness, the toll of being away for so long, all of it flickered across his face. But then, just as quickly, he covered it up with another grin. You know he did that, just for you.
“But hey, no need to get all sappy and sad about it. I’ll be back soon, and I’ll cook you that terrible breakfast you love so much, baby doll. But don't worry, my coffee brew will make up for all of it!”
Even though the stream was shorter than usual, it felt like a lifeline—not just for you, but for him too. These weekly check-ins had become more than just updates; for you or for him.
No, they were more than that. They were a way for both of you to stay grounded, to share a piece of normalcy despite the distance. And no matter how drained he was, Gojo Satoru never failed to show up. It was his way of saying, "I'm okay. We're okay. We always will be, because this is love."
As the stream wound down, Satoru waved to the camera with a tired but genuine smile. “Alright, that’s all for tonight. Sorry it’s a short one, but I’ll make it up to you next week. Maybe I’ll find a game I’m actually good at soon enough, baby.” he teased.
Then, as always, he ended the stream with the same words, his voice softer than usual, like a promise he was determined to keep. “Soon, doll. I’ll be back soon.”
And with that, the screen faded to black, leaving you with the warmth of his voice lingering in your mind and the quiet reassurance that, no matter how far away he was, Gojo Satoru was still finding his way back to you.
Week 6
HE HASN’T LET GO OF YOU SINCE HE CAME HOME. Somehow, your beloved boyfriend had become overly attached to you after being gone for more than five weeks.
You didn’t mind, though. You missed him too much. And now that you have him all to yourself, you were just happy to make him happy, to indulge him. It was your turn to be his penicillin after a long suffering in parting.
That was what you were doing as you joined him for his new little live. Your chair leaned closer to his as the feed started to broadcast. And of course, with all the energy in him — your beloved boyfriend starts the stream with an excited yell.
"Guess who’s finally home, yall!" Satoru practically bounced in his chair, dragging you into the frame beside him. His arm was slung over your shoulders, and his grin was so wide it was almost cartoonish. "This lucky boy, hah-hah!"
“I’m back with my one and only, guys. Best day of my life! And the first thing I’m doing to celebrate? Playing games with my better half. How lucky am I?”
He leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, throwing a wink at the camera. You giggle as the blush became evident on your cheeks. He seems satisfied knowing he's made you blush like that in front of millions.
“Don’t be jealous, everyone. I know you’ve missed this face, but now it’s all theirs.”
The comments section immediately exploded with his castmates popping in.
YujiItadori: “Let’s gooooo! The dream team’s together again!”
NobaraK: “Bet they’re cheating, already ganging up on us before the game even starts.”
Shoko: “I didn’t tune in to watch Gojo. Move over so we can see the real star of the stream.”
Megumi: "I can't believe they love him so much, they're staying like that."
Satoru read Shoko’s comment out loud with a laugh. “Ah, Shoko, ever the comedian. You’ll have to settle for watching me kick your butt in this game, though.”
Then he read Megumi's comment. He leaned in and then narrows his eyes. "You just hate true love Megumi!"
You smiled at him. "He's a lot, but I love him!"
"They love me, ah!" Satoru says dramatically, starting to act like he was hit by the arrow of love. He slumps on the back of his gaming chair. "I am more in love!"
"Oh, Satoru, be careful." You smiled at him, tapping his arm softly. "The game's about to start."
He turned to you as he leans forward. Satoru starts fumbling wit his own gaming controller with a smirk. “Ready to show these amateurs how it’s done?”
But before you could even pick up your own controller, you were sure that you heard the notification sound. Soon enough, you saw the new comment popped up on the screen. It was from Shoko.
Shoko: “Actually, I just wanted to say your hair looks amazing today, babes. Oh, and by the way. I’m free tonight if you wanna hang out. I’m nearby, if you wanna go clubbing.”
You burst out laughing, quickly typing back as you talk it out loud. “Thanks, Shoko! Maybe we can grab drinks later. Satoru doesn’t mind, do you?” You shot Satoru a teasing look, eyes glinting with mischief.
Satoru froze, his playful grin faltering for just a second before he shot a mock glare at you. “Excuse me?” He leaned toward the camera dramatically, addressing Shoko directly.
You giggle. “It would be fun! Shoko thinks I’m pretty! You have that in common, we’ll get along!”
“What is this? Flirting with my partner on my livestream? Rude.” He shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. “First, they steal my heart, and now you’re trying to steal them from me, too? At least give me a chance to enjoy being back home!”
You snickered, leaning into his shoulder. “Shoko’s just appreciating what she sees. Can you blame her?”
Shoko: “Exactly. Someone around here has to appreciate your beauty for what it is, babes. And it ain’t Gojo Satoru!”
Satoru groaned loudly, slapping a hand to his forehead. “I’ve been home for five minutes, and I’m already fighting for my life.” He glanced at the camera, eyes wide in mock horror. “Help me, chat. This is supposed to be our time, and now I’m stuck playing third wheel in my own relationship.”
The comments section erupted with laughter.
And of course, a lot of teasing for Satoru.
You grinned even wider at him.
NobaraK: “Shoko is winning the game and she’s not even playing.”
Megumi: “This is why I don’t watch these streams. It’s always chaos.”
YujiItadori: “This is amazing. Gojo Satoru who?”
Determined to regain control, Satoru pulled you closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he looked straight at the computer camera. Your boyfriend's face was certainly echoing that childish pout was all too evident on his features.
“Alright, enough of this betrayal!” he said with a grin. “Let’s focus on what’s important for all of the world’s happiness and that’s us destroying everyone in this game, together. The real dream team.”
He lifted your hand with the controller, making you both move in sync to start the game. But even as the game started, the playful banter didn’t stop. Satoru kept glancing at the chat, where Shoko continued to drop flirty comments for you, egging you on.
You of course couldn't help but match her energy and played along. As the game continued, you were periodically sending back winks and typing responses that made Satoru groan even louder and you stopped, putting it down with a laugh.
“Why do you enjoy tormenting me like this?” he whined, though his smile never left his face.
You just grinned. “Because it’s fun. And you’re cute when you pout.”
He paused the game for a second, dramatically clutching his chest. “Cute? I’m not supposed to be cute! I’m supposed to be hot and cool and, like, super mysterious!”
Without missing a beat, you leaned closer to the mic and said in a low voice, “Shoko, he’s not mysterious at all. He leaves his socks everywhere and talks in his sleep.”
Satoru’s bright eyes widened in mock betrayal, and the chat exploded again.
Shoko: “Noted. Definitely better off hanging out with you later.”
YujiItadori: “HIS SOCKS??? WHAT????”
“You’re supposed to be on my side, baby!” Satoru cried, laughing so hard he could barely hold his controller. “I just got back, and this is what I come home to—slander!”
But beneath all the playful chaos and teasing, there was a warmth between you both that even the camera couldn’t miss. Every time Satoru glanced at you, he couldn't help but fold easily.
There was a softness in his eyes, a kind of quiet relief that he was finally home. And even though the flirting and jokes kept flying, it was obvious that he was just happy to be here, with you, sharing this silly moment.
As the stream wrapped up, Satoru threw an arm around your shoulders again, flashing a final grin at the camera.
“Alright, guys, it’s been real. But I think it’s time for me to kick back and enjoy being home with my partner. And Homewrecker Ieiri Shoko, this is for you!” he pointed at the screen with a playful glare. “Hands off.”
He winked, pulling you closer as you both waved goodbye to the viewers. “See you next week—if Shoko doesn’t steal my thunder completely by then.”
Jujutsu Kaisen's Satoru Gojo Brodcasts For A Whole Month For His Partner — Insiders said, 'He's Hopelessly In Love' with them!
In an unexpected turn of events, actor and singer Satoru Gojo has taken the internet by storm, not for his acting chops or musical talent, but for his endearing displays of affection towards his partner during his gaming livestreams.
The mega superstar who has always been more private about his life out of work is now screaming from the rooftops. He screams for his love towards them. And he's not going to stop.
The actor in a short few weeks have become a viral sensation as fans and media outlets alike can’t get enough of how "hopelessly in love" he is.
What started as casual, late-night gaming sessions on Twitch quickly turned into a phenomenon as viewers noticed something beyond the usual gaming commentary. Gojo Satoru’s soft, love-struck behavior whenever his partner joined the chat was heartwarming to his audience.
Whether it was him gushing about his partner’s smile, dedicating his game victories to them, or just pausing the action to talk sweetly, Gojo Satoru’s streams became must-watch content.
One memorable moment that caught the attention of fans worldwide was when Gojo, in the middle of an intense match, suddenly smiled and blushed, saying, “I just got a text from my partner. Everything stops when they message me.”
This short clip has since gone viral among the netizens and especially with his global group of fans. This has been received with immense positivity and love, with fans dubbing him “the ultimate simp” in the most affectionate way possible.
It’s not just the fans who have been swept away by Gojo’s open adoration. Major media outlets have picked up on the story, with headlines like “Satoru Gojo: Hollywood’s Ultimate Romantic” and “Inside the Heart of a Superstar: Gojo Satoru is Head Over Heels.”
And one good bet, with his massive popularity, he would go beyond viral. Indeed, that's what happened! Social media is flooded with clips from his livestreams, showing him talking about his love for his beloved partner with a soft grin that could melt anyone’s heart.
"I never thought I’d be watching an action game to see a rom-com play out!" one fan commented on Twitter.
Another added. "Forget the game, I’m here for Gojo Satoru being jealous about Shoko Ieiri flirting with his partner!”
In interviews, Gojo Satoru has remained unbothered by the sudden attention. “I just love them, really.” he said, shrugging with a sheepish grin when asked about the viral clips. "They’re my everything, so yeah, I’m a little obsessed."
Fans have now turned into self-proclaimed shippers of Gojo Satoru and his partner, creating fan art, videos, and even shipping hashtags. While Gojo Satoru continues his career as a heartthrob in film and music, it’s his real-life love story that’s currently winning over the internet with a happily devoted live update.
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Surrender, an ABDL Story by CradleQuill (18+)
Disclaimer: All content is fictional, consensual, and intended only for mature audiences. All characters depicted are adults aged 18+ _
Daniel stopped typing and looked up from his manuscript. His eyes wandered to Isabelle, who sat at the other end of their shared table, supposedly chipping away at her latest work project. Her brow was stuck in a permanently furrowed state, and she was massaging her temples as she stared down at her computer screen. She had been at this for hours now. Every so often, a burst of inspiration would hit, and the sound of her acrylic nails tapping away at her mechanical keys would fill the room. Those bursts would not last, though. Before too long, Daniel would notice that the sound of his girlfriend working would disappear, replaced with a suffocating silence that lingered throughout the air, threatening to choke the life from him if he dared say a word.
It had been over thirty minutes since inspiration had last struck, and Daniel knew Isabelle was hitting her wall. He also knew she would be reluctant to admit as much. He looked back to his writing and saw he had hit his word count for the day, so he leaned back and took a deep breath. Daniel eyed Isabelle as he wondered if she was paying attention to his movements.
“You know, honey,” Daniel said with a hitch in his voice. “Maybe it’s about time for you to take a break. Relax for a bit and see if the solution comes to you.”
Isabelle shut her eyes, looking annoyed. She let out a hefty sigh. “I can’t take a break yet. I’m on the clock for another three hours, and I need to finish this by the end of the day.”
Daniel carefully considered his next words. He knew how she got when there were stakes involved, especially when those stakes involved her boss, Jim. He also knew Isabelle had a penchant for building these things up in her head and assuming the worst. “Do you actually need to finish this one today, or is it more so that you’re going to be mad at yourself if you don’t finish it?”
Isabelle shot two twin daggers for eyes at him, and he immediately got the memo. He leaned forward, and in his mind, he debated whether he wanted to continue speaking. In the end, his gut told him to keep going. “You know, honey,” he began, his voice as gentle and soothing as light rain tapping on a window. “It would probably be easier to get a lot more work done if you gave your mind the chance to rest. You don’t want to overwork yourself and fry those thoughts before they come to fruition.”
“And what would you know about that?” Isabelle snapped back. “It’s not like you work an actual job, anyway. I have deadlines, Daniel. People expect me to finish things by certain times, and I’m already behind as is. So please, lay off and let me handle it.”
By the time she reached the end of her little diatribe, she was nearly out of breath, huffing and puffing out of anger. Her cheeks were bright red, but they faded to a lighter shade of pink once she realized that her temper had gotten the better of her. Daniel just sat there, staring at her. There was no judgment in his eyes, not even pain. Isabelle struggled to read him, but as best she could tell, he was unbothered, though also very serious.
She knew she ought to apologize, and part of her even wanted to. It was the mature thing to do. Even if she had a point, she went about expressing that point in the absolute wrong way. At the same time, she could feel that another side of her, a more stubborn, petty side, had latched onto this little spat and decided it was unwilling to move an inch. While she sat there in her purgatory of mind, Daniel stood up from the table. She watched him close his laptop and wander over to where his coat was hung up next to the door.
“Daniel, wait…” She clambered out of her chair and onto her feet.
“Not another word.” Daniel’s tone was stern, but it held the same underlying gentleness as his earlier words. She knew he meant it. He did not want to hear another word escape from her lips, and as hard as that stubborn side of her tried to fight it, she managed to hold it back and keep her mouth shut. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. Instead, all she offered was a nod.
“I’ll be back soon. I won’t be long,” Daniel said before pulling on his coat and leaving through their apartment’s front door. On his way out, she heard the pitters and patters of his boots as he trailed down the stairs to the parking lot.
Minutes passed, and Isabelle had still not returned to her work. Her heart was nearly in her throat. She knew she had messed up, but she hoped it would not be as bad as it seemed. Daniel said he would not be long, and Isabelle would just have to trust that. He wouldn’t just leave her there, all alone, over one fight. If you could even call it a fight. It was more like a temper tantrum. She could hardly call herself a stressed out adult who had been snippy. It was more like she was a spiteful adolescent lashing out at a parent. It reminded her of her teenage years, and for that she felt deep shame.
When another few minutes had passed, and Isabelle still could not get her mind off of things, she forced herself to look back at her computer screen. Sitting there doing nothing would not help. At least if she got some work done, it would be a serviceable distraction until Daniel returned from wherever he had gone off to. He probably just went for a walk to clear his head, Isabelle thought. She hoped it was nothing more than that.
After around another thirty minutes, the familiar sound of Daniel’s boots trudging up the stairs to their apartment rang through the building, and Isabelle let out a sigh of relief she had been holding onto since the moment he left. When he returned through the door, Isabelle noticed something under his arm. Whatever it was, it was double-bagged in two white grocery bags, and she could not make out any signifying labels from beneath the coat of white.
“What’s that?” She asked, but Daniel did not answer.
“Come with me,” was all he said before making his way through the halls and into their bedroom. He had that same tone from earlier, the one that refused to be bargained with, so Isabelle did as she was told. She stood up from the table and followed him into their room, where Daniel was making the bed. He had opened their closet door and pulled out a black leather riding crop, which now sat beside him on the nightstand.
“No, absolutely not-” Isabelle said, but Daniel cut her off.
“You will not take that kind of tone with me. You know better than to speak to me that way, and you know better than to insult me.” He finished making the bed, ensuring it was nice and level for her to sprawl out on. “You also know that I was right about you needing a break. You would never have snapped at me like that if you weren’t so stressed. Now, be an obedient girl for me and lay flat on your stomach.”
Isabelle squirmed where she stood, clenching her legs together and trying not to show how obviously wiggly she was. Deep down, she loved when he got like this. She found him so… irresistible when he took charge. “I-I don’t think now is the t-time…” she trailed off, unable to finish her own thought. Her thoughts seemed to get lost somewhere along the way from her mind to her mouth, disappearing before she could bring them to life through her words.
Daniel simply ignored her. He wore that same unphased demeanor from earlier, and somehow, that made him seem even more threatening. With the crop and sheets all prepped and ready, he bent down and opened his mysterious package, revealing a large bag of disposable diapers, the kinds for little kids who still wet their beds.
“Absolutely not!” Isabelle declared. Her voice was forceful and unwavering. Yet when his eyes met hers, hers darted away. She could not hold his gaze.
“I’m not asking. Lay down on the bed, take your spanking, and then I’m going to put you into something more appropriate for the way you’ve been behaving.”
“I’m not… wearing that.” She folded her arms and gave her best pout.
Daniel turned to face her, not speaking for several seconds. Each subsequent second felt longer than the last, and with each one that passed, Isabelle felt her knees getting weaker, ready to give way. After a full minute of silent stillness, Daniel suddenly approached her. He got right up in her face, forcing her to stand at attention just to avoid him running into her.
Their faces were mere inches apart when he said, “I have seen your BDSMTest results. I know what you’re into. I know how you like to be treated.” He paused just long enough to let her mouth fall open, and for a breathless gasp to flee from her open lips. “You have a safe word. Use it. Or don’t use it, and lay down on the bed right this instant.”
Isabelle could not believe what she was hearing. Even less could she believe her legs started inching their way forward without her permission. Daniel was right. She had a safe word, but she did not utter it. Before she knew it, she was crawling onto the bed, sprawling out over it. Daniel came up from behind her and gave her a forceful push, slamming her stomach onto the bed as she let out a reluctant moan that refused to be held back. A familiar wetness dampened her inner thighs.
As she tried to compose herself, to gather her thoughts which seemed to float around aimlessly in the sea of her mind, there was a sharp sting against one of her butt cheeks, and then the other. The sound of the slaps came first, with the pain settling in whole seconds later. By the time she felt the pain from one, Daniel’s crop was already onto the next. She desperately clung to her physical presence, to keep herself grounded within the moment. She was an adult, a grown woman, someone who was self-sufficient and well adjusted. Except, she wasn’t any of those things.
With each strike of the crop, those illusions, those lies that she told herself, they disappeared bit by bit, until they had faded into nothing more than memories just out of reach. All that was left was herself. Her true self, the one she kept locked away where no one could see. In mere moments, Daniel had beaten it out of her. She could hardly even feel the pain anymore. Instead, it was as if she were floating in the middle of the ocean, with no land anywhere to be found. Or perhaps she was soaring through the air, diving between the clouds, with no rules or expectations hoisted upon her shoulders. She was free. In her bondage, in her submission to him, she was free.
When the spanking was finished, Isabelle’s bottom was bright red and sore. The earlier marks were even beginning to turn purple as her skin bruised. She just laid there, her mouth agape, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Daniel grabbed hold of her and pulled her into his embrace. “There, there, little one. It’s all over. I’ve got you now.” The sternness had left his voice. Now, there was just that same old gentleness, like the first autumn breeze of the year.
She sobbed into his shoulder, and all the while, he held her and cooed at her. He rocked her gently, careful not to exacerbate the pain coursing through her bruised bottom. Once she had settled down and centered herself right there in his presence, in his dominance, he laid her down on the bed. She went limp, ready to let him do whatever he pleased with her. However, Daniel did not take her as she thought he would. No, instead, he ripped open the package of Pull-Ups and slid one over her feet and up her legs. Isabelle’s hands shot up to her face to hide her humiliation, but the childish gesture only served to make her seem more helpless and infantile.
With little effort, Daniel hoisted Isabelle up and pulled the glorified diaper snug into place. She had to admit; it wasn’t so bad. The padding was soft against her princess parts, and the way the garment hugged her hips made her feel swaddled and protected. She was safe. Safe in her Pull-Ups and safe under Daniel’s thumb, right where she belonged. She needed it. She yearned for it.
Daniel wrapped her in his arms once more and laid her head on his chest. He rocked her gently, humming a soft little tune to soothe her. Isabelle closed her eyes and let herself relax, finally. For the first time in longer than she cared to remember, she was at peace. All her worries and concerns had drifted away, and despite her sore bottom and weakened pride, she could not help but smile.
“There’s my girl,” Daniel said. He aimed his own soft smile down at her, and as she looked into his eyes, she did not find disdain or malice there. Instead, she found only wordless comfort and reassurance. “I think someone was extra fussy today and needed an attitude adjustment.” She blushed even more furiously at that.
“D-Daniel…” Isabelle’s meek voice chirped out like a baby bird making its first call.
“Yes, my love?”
“I’m s-sorry… for what I said… and the way I said it.”
“I know you are, sweetie. I know you didn’t mean it. You were stressed, and you lashed out. Little girls do that from time to time.”
“N-no but… I’m serious. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“Hush, little one. I know you’re sorry, and I know you’re being sincere. I’m telling you it’s alright, that you don’t have to apologize. You don’t have to do or be anything right now. You can just sit here in my arms, and you can just be my little girl, if that’s what you want.” He gave her the kindest smile anyone had ever given her, and in that moment, the last of her reservations gave way. “That is what you want, isn’t it, baby?” All she could do was nod.
That night, she drifted off to sleep in her boyfriend’s arms. Come the next day, she wouldn’t think of him as her boyfriend at all anymore. Instead, she would see him as her Daddy. And by the time she woke the next morning, she would find herself filled with a sense of undeniable bliss, and a new sensation altogether. One of thickness and absorbency between her legs. One that would go on to define the rest of her life to come, and the way her Daddy would look at her as his good little bedwetter. _
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Sukuna’s proposal
Yakuza!Sukuna x Fem!reader
MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, fem reader, knives, blood, graphic depictions of violence, references to non-con, stabbing, potential death, gun use, fighting, risk of death/murder, threats of violence, marriage proposal.
Shinjuku - 1982…
Mr Nanami called your name from his office, "Can you come in here please?"
"Is everything alright?" for the first time since you started this job, Kento Nanami showed a concerned look across his face.
"I have someone incredibly important coming and I have to be upfront with you," he offered up the chair across from his desk and allowed you to sit. "To be honest, I thought you would have left by now."
Was he questioning your professionalism? You had been there a few months and he hadn't uttered a word. "How so?"
"Well this sort of work isn't exactly your usual office work, I know you're aware of my security systems."
You were also very aware that at least Mr Nanami was Yakuza, though it never bothered you. It was simple enough to come into work, do your job and leave in the evening. Of course it came with its risks, but any job linked to the Yakuza warranted more open eyes than usual.
That was why you opted for spray in your bag incase someone came with overzealous hands. You could handle yourself in some capacity, so it was never an issue.
"I'm also aware that you are Yakuza, Mr Nanami. That doesn't bother me if that's what you are trying to imply?"
Was that a sigh of relief? "So you're up to speed then, this makes things easier. I apologise I never implicitly clarified before you came, but as you may have noticed, it's difficult to find civilian staff who won't run at the first sign of trouble."
Mr Nanami seemed like a reliable man at least, he was prompt, respectful and incredibly chivalrous. Something that may come in handy later should trouble actually arise.
Though for now, it seemed plausible to suggest that you were in good hands. As long as that didn't change and he left you out in the cold.
"I took this job knowing what sort of work you may have been in, I just need a steady pay check to afford my apartment. I don't need to know anything or ask questions."
Mr Nanami nodded and leant forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together in thought. "Good. At least I won't have to explain this."
He rummaged through his desk drawer and pulled out a knife. large enough to be mistaken for a kitchen knife, though it was dainty enough to be pocket sized if you squinted at it hard enough.
"I want you to keep this in your desk out front. The man who's coming is the type that some people despise for various reasons and I do not like the fact you have nothing as a deterrent while he's here."
Some might have suggested in their minds that the man himself was a serial killer or something, but that wasn't it at all. That signified to you that the man in question was someone of great importance to Mr Nananmi.
His own boss perhaps? Someone with enough power to make enemies out of the wood work to warrant protection from a secretary out front at collateral.
You bet on that it was his boss.
"Alright then," you leant forward and took the knife from the desk, its weighted handle gleaming in the low light of the screens off to the left side of the room you never dared to look at. "If that's what you wish of me, consider it done."
Mr Nanami got up from his chair as a signal for you to do the same. "Thank you, I hope you never have to use it."
"I hope so too," following him, he led you out of the office and back to your desk to which you slipped the knife into your drawer just like he had done before. "What time will your guest arrive?"
"Tonight, but I won't need you to bring him through. I'll greet him myself," he made a move back to his office and stopped in his tracks. "It's best if you don't make direct eye contact with him, his presence can be overwhelming to some."
You nodded to give non-verbal communication and turned to your work for rest of the day until Mr Nanami came back out of his office to greet the shadow at the door.
"Chairman," seeing Mr Nanami bow to another man was an odd sight.
The man being shorter in stature than himself, bright hair and unusual tattooed markings on his face. He was beautiful, the markings were beautiful in their own way, and being a Yakuza man made his presence all that more intimidating.
Well, to other people. Not to you.
To you, he was just another man just like Mr Nanami.
For a fleeting second, the two of you made eye contact to which you bowed your head in respect and continued working, noting his silent footsteps wander past you and into Mr Nanami's office.
Another hour must have passed in silence while your pen scribbled away, scratching over the quiet for something to listen to. Paperwork and filed reports sorted alphabetically to make the time not drag whilst there wasn't much else to do.
A knock at the outer office door was the most interesting thing in the whole room, it sounded timid by the rapping of knuckles which led you to believe it was Ino coming back to tinker with the network, or fiddle with something computer related.
But it wasn't.
It was a man you had never seen before. "I'm sorry, is there any chance I can see Nanami right now?"
"Sorry, but Mr Nanami is in a meeting right now. He can't be disturbed, would you like to leave a message?"
"No that's fine," he moved towards the desk and just past it, looking at the office door. "I only wanted to see who was out here before I get my guys."
What?
He held up a gun and moved fast enough to get behind you. "Why he would put a woman out front is beyond me. The Chairman's in there, isn't he?"
So that man inside with Mr Nanami was the Chairman?
You said nothing, making little micro movements towards your desk drawer. The weapon seemed as though bad luck had graced your desk, spending not even twenty four hours in your possession and you were already edging towards it to use it on a man you'd never met before.
There was a gun pointed at your head and you were as calm as you had ever been. Though what was the use in panicking?
The barrel of that gun pressed against your head. "Answer me, bitch."
"I don't know who you're referring to," so close now, the drawer handle in your reach.
"Don't fucking lie to me," he was trying to be as quiet as he could, teeth gritted and all. "I have four guys out there ready to storm this place and they'll take turns with you, believe me. So cooperate and tell me."
He was making threats like that already? He was either incredibly wet behind the ears to use something so drastic this early, or it was a bluff.
"Alright, I'll get the keys to the office."
The excuse was enough for the pressure of metal to leave the back of your head and allow you to open the drawer naturally and moved your hand around to feel for the knife's handle.
'If a person has possession of a knife when threatened, they better follow through in using it.' That was advice you had heard once from somewhere.
Might as well listen to it.
It all happened so fast, taking a hold of the weighted handle and moving forward a fraction so you could drive the blade into the man's thigh. The gun went off regardless by your head and the shot rang through your ears though it wasn't enough to stun you.
You weren't sure how you got up from your seat the way you did to draw the knife out of him and lunge again with the steel pushing onto his chest, enough to topple him off his feet and drag him to meet the hard floor with you on top of him.
The ringing vibrated your ear drums, tingling too much to notice Mr Nanami's office door open. You were on top of a man who threatened you with a gun and there was so much blood.
But he was still alive.
It wasn't shock. It couldn't have been. You were still coherent, you just couldn't hear much. The red on your hands was new, sticky and warm enough to keep you out of the moment until someone took a hold of your shoulders.
It wiped you out and into reality, grasping at what you had done in the present in front of your employer and a stranger who was eyeing you intensely.
"Can you hear me?" Mr Nanami shook you a little, his voice muffled somewhat. "Are you alright?"
"He threatened me- I didn't know what else I could do."
And now you were justifying yourself. You would do the same thing if there was a time machine to take you back.
"But are you alright?"
"I'm fine. There might be others outside," how were you talking so clearly right now with just your little rapid breaths at your lips? "He asked about the Chairman and said there are four others."
"Can you stand?"
"Yeah. I'm alright," the blood was a nuisance.
Mr Nanami lead you over to your chair and pulled the desk phone to his ear. "I'm calling Naoya, he'll be able to take you home."
"Don't let that ingrate in on this Nanami," the Chairman spoke for the first time.
"I can't leave until this is cleared up, she'll need to get home."
"I'll take her back, Uraume is waiting in the car," the Chairman approached the desk and folded his arms with purpose. "Naoya is a brat, he'd only mess it up. I'll make sure she get's home while you clean up the trash."
Wait. Clean up? Things were catching up to you. "Is he dead?"
Had you just killed a man? You should have been more freaked out about it. But you weren't.
"He's kicking for now. Shame. You should have aimed higher."
Right in front of you was a hand, the Chairman's hand. You made a note of the darkened polish adorning his manicured nails, black bands around his wrist.
You took it without question. "I'll bare that in mind next time I stab a man."
"Good. Nanami, call by tomorrow when this is sorted."
"Yes sir."
His hand was far warmer than you anticipated. He never let go until you were in the car, a sort of blur until he broke the silence.
"Care to explain how a civilian found their way into a vipers pit of the Yakuza?"
He was the Chairman, it was only respectful you answer him honestly. Right? "Money. I needed the money. I was aware who Mr Nanami was as soon as I saw him."
The world zipped by from the car window, unaware for the crime you had just committed. If the man wasn't dead, he was certainly gravely injured enough to warrant a prison sentence should anone find out. It was never discussed or mentioned by Mr Nanami or the Chairman.
It was more like an afterthought from yourself.
"Yet you still accepted the job offer anyway? And now you've stabbed a man with a gun. This life is hardly one to brag about when you're collateral."
"It doesn't scare me," only his reflection was in your periphery, you didn't turn your head to face him. "It's a job. I've had my fair share of hardships to know life isn't easy. Defending myself is something that comes naturally."
You could have sworn you heard him chuckle. "Defending yourself is far more difficult than people understand. It takes someone strong to do what is necessary."
That much was true. And that statement was enough to get your head turning to face him. Even in the dim light of the passing street lights, he was beautiful.
How did someone such as himself find his way into becoming a Chairman?
"Sometimes we're faced with difficult decisions when the hardest choice is the wisest. It's just something that has to happen."
The blood had dried along your fingers and began to crack and chip away leaving streaks of exposed skin at the joints. It would take more than just one shower alone to get all of this yuck off of you.
"You speak more truth than most of the men under my watch. It's refreshing."
"Sir, we've arrived," a voice from the drivers side came about to ground you.
"Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."
The car door was suddenly opened for you, the driver bowing and their identity remained hidden. The other door opened and the Chairman approached you.
"I never got your name, Mr Nanami never told me."
"Sukuna. It's Ryomen Sukuna."
Even in the darkened sky of the night's glow tapered off with the neon signs of Shinjuku, he was still beautiful. You spoke your name too and offered a bow before taking steps towards the door to your apartment.
A quaint little ground floor, and it was all yours.
"Do you need assistance?"
"No, I'll be alright from here."
His eyes were in the back of your head as you wandered past him. "I'll be forward because it's not every day I meet a woman who pulls something so extraordinary to gain my attention like you did today."
"Hmm?" you turned and watched him from your front door almost, he made no attempt to follow you.
"Marry me."
"What?"
A proposal from someone you had spoken few sentences to was a first. But you didn't find yourself shying away from the subject.
"Marry me."
"I..."
The man in front of you softened his eyes, never judging you covered in another mans blood. "Think about it, and come to me with any answer you choose."
He bowed to you and turned towards the car, the driver opening the door to let him disappear into the darkness of tinted glass.
After that night, you wondered about that man and who he really was.
You gave him your answer several days later.
And it was a firm yes.
#yakuza au#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#fem reader#reader insert#sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#uraume#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk ryomen
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something about Ryōshū and Yoshihide
[might be a bit offensive, most is personal thought about Yoshihide and how PM build Ryōshū at the moment]
As someone who love Ryōshū, me and my friend wanted to make this post
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In Jigoku hen (Hell’s Screen), Yoshihide is a peculiar, arrogant, and conceited painter who looks down on all rules and traditions. He’s someone who cast away the Five Constants 五常 ( 義 justice, 禮 politeness, 智 wisdom, 信 fidelity and 仁 benevolence) to pursue art.
「あゝ、これでございます、これを描く為めに、あの恐ろしい出来事が起つたのでございます。又さもなければ如何に良秀でもどうしてかやうに生々と奈落の苦艱が画かれませう。
あの男はこの屏風の絵を仕上げた代りに、命さへも捨てるやうな、無惨な目に出遇ひました。云はゞこの絵の地獄は、本朝第一の絵師良秀が、自分で何時か墜ちて行く地獄だつたのでございます.... 。」
“It was for this reason, indeed, his consuming desire to paint this picture, that the terrible incident occurred. If it had not been for this event, how could even Yoshihide have succeeded in painting that graphic picture of the tortures and agonies in Hell?
So, he could complete the picture, his life had to come to a miserable end. Indeed, it was to this very Hell in his picture, that Yoshihide, the greatest painter in Japan, had condemned himself.”
In the game, Ryōshū is depicted almost exactly the same way, if not more explicitly deranged than the original. There are numerous moments in the game that describe her eyes lighting up when she starts “painting” or marveling at piles of [censored] meats while exclaiming in delight.
You don’t even have to look so far—just read the uptie story of Warp Corp. Ryōshū. It vividly portrays her happiness and joy in cleaning up the hellscape created by centuries of despair-driven madness. I'll even quote here
"I get to visit a museum, an exhibition featuring brand-new pieces of art every single day. All that for a bit of physical labor." "When this train that people take without giving it a second thought, every single day...Turned out to be a gallery of arts, sculpted with chisels of time! While I was impressed with how well they were hiding this truth from the public... three words came to mind. This. Is. It.
" In hindsight, I was so absorbed with chasing after and creating my own art "
"One that wrapped its flesh around the plush side of the seat, embodying a new chair with extra cushioning...One that is an amalgam of many, taking the shape of a new organism and lurching on... Though I wouldn't classify that as 'art'. Not yet."
"Shambling without intent is… in the end, insufficient to be called art. It is incomplete at best. I butcher them. Because the company ordered me to make them easier to clean up. To interfere with the process of involuntary art isn't to my liking, no… But that doesn't happen very often. Besides, there is plenty to be gained from the rest."
If that’s doesn't prove much, in the opening moments of the game, she’s visibly enjoying watching people get tossed into a bus to be crushed into fuel, while Sinclair is terrified, and Dante is questioning the morality of what’s happening.
With such evidence, there’s no way to claim her sadistic tendencies are just a façade or mask—it’s her bare essence. And that’s without even touching on her masochistic tendencies, which honestly make Yoshihide seem tame in comparison when it comes to twisted and warped personalities.
Ryōshū and Yoshihide are both artists consumed by blind, inescapable devotion to their craft. They are the kind of people who would willingly open the gates of hell and hurl themselves inside. They are also inevitably doomed to fall into Avīci Hell.
And as for being sad? Was Jigoku hen supposed to be a tragic tale of a father losing his daughter? Was Yoshihide meant to be a character that evokes sympathy for his suffering? Absolutely and definitely not.
Yoshihide himself opened the gates of hell and threw himself in—no one pushed him. He discarded the Five Constants and trampled over human lives in the name of art.
「檳榔毛の車にも火をかけよう。又その中にはあでやかな女を一人、上﨟のをさせて乗せて遣はさう。炎と黒煙とに攻められて、する、車―それを描かうと思ひついたのは、流石に天下第一の絵師ぢや。褒めてとらす。おゝ褒めてとらすぞ」
"A charming woman dressed up like a court lady shall ride in the carriage. Writhing amidst the deadly flames and black smoke, the lady in the carriage will die in agony. Your suggestion of finding such a model for your picture does you full credit as the greatest painter in the whole country. I praise you. I praise you highly."
What Yoshihide receives at the end of the story is the consequence of his own actions. In the end, he finishes painting the hellish screen—only after watching his beloved daughter burn alive before his eyes—and then hangs himself. The masterpiece he created was painted with the agony of witnessing his daughter’s death, and yet, just moments after despair, he finds joy and radiance in it. At his core, Yoshihide is still a painter who sacrifices goodness for the sake of beauty.
He’s no different from his original inspiration, Ryōshū in Uji Shūi Monogatari (Tales of a Rainy Night), who took delight in watching his house burn, his wife and children still inside. Akutagawa’s addition of a sense of love and grief in Yoshihide is a form of punishment—because while the original Ryōshū lost his humanity, Yoshihide still feels pain, which haunts him after completing his masterpiece.
「その火の柱を前にして、凝り固まつたやうに立つてゐる良秀は― 何と云ふ不思議な事でございませう。あのさつきまで地獄の責苦に悩んでゐたやうな良秀は 、今は云ひやうのない輝きを、さながら恍惚とした法悦の輝きを、皺だらけな満面に浮べながら、大殿様の御前も忘れたのか、両腕をしつかり胸に組んで、佇んでゐるではございませんか。
それがどうもあの男の眼の中には、娘の悶え死ぬ有様が映つてゐないやうなのでございます。唯美しい火焔の色と、その中に苦しむ女人の姿とが、限りなく心を悦ばせる― さう云ふ景色に見えました。」
"In front of the pillar of fire, Yoshihide stood still, rooted to the ground. What a wonderful transfiguration he had undergone! A mysterious radiance, a kind of blissful ecstasy, showed on the wrinkled face of Yoshihide who had been agonized by the tortures of hell until a minute before.
His arms were tightly crossed on his chest as if he had forgotten that he was in the presence of the Grand Lord. No longer did his eyes seem to mirror the image of his daughter's agonized death. His eyes seemed to delight beyond measure in the beautiful color of the flame and the form of the woman writhing in her last infernal tortures."
Because of how Jigoku hen is written, readers are left with the impression that “Yoshihide, despite his twisted nature, still has humanity.” But they forget how much pleasure he took in watching his daughter burn. Now they project what they read onto Ryōshū… even though the game hasn’t explored her backstory? So far, the game hasn’t dropped a single hint about Ryōshū’s backstory. She remains one of the most mysterious sinners on the bus. None of the uptie stories for her IDs provide even a shred of evidence that she’s secretly melancholic like Gregor.
What we can confirm is that she cherishes her sword, has some connection to the Five Fingers, and always speaks up when the topic of family comes up. Using the original work as a basis to interpret a character is fine but announcing your personal interpretation as fact while accusing others of not understanding the character is like running ahead of the car you're supposed to be riding.
Ryōshū, Sinner No. 4 of Limbus Company, is a violence-loving mystery of a character with shady connections, an artist who finds beauty in the grotesque. While this is not the entirety of her character, it is who she is.
Ryōshū is Ryōshū—not Don Quixote or Rodion with a mask slapped on.
Liking her for her violent and twisted nature doesn’t make you a fool. It’s not the same as liking someone and then realizing the person you admired was merely putting on an act or presenting a beautiful façade. If PM later explores a more humanizing or empathetic aspect of Ryōshū, your reaction would likely be, “Oh, so Ryōshū still has humanity/she also has this side to her?” There might be some surprises, but it definitely wouldn’t feel like being deceived.
Even though I’m pretty sure most of the Ryōshū’s shrimp pond will continue simping for her because of her twisted nature as it is now. Either way, even if Ryōshū is shown to have humanity, she’ll still be Ryōshū—she’ll still turn people into a heap of [CENSORED] and call it art. That’s also how Akutagawa described Yoshihide up until the moment he ceased to live.
From start to finish, Yoshihide was always the blind painter single-mindedly pursuing his art, to the point that even his last shred of humanity couldn’t overcome his identity as an artist. As some analysts point out, the last remnants of Yoshihide’s humanity were burned away with the monkey that threw itself into the flames after his daughter.
「さうして朱塗のやうな袖格子がばらくと焼け落ちる中にのけ反つた娘の肩を抱いて、帛を裂くやうな鋭い声を、何とも云へず苦しさうに、長く煙の外へ飛ばせました。続いて又、二声三声 ― 私たちは我知らず、あつと同音に叫びました。
壁代のやうな焔を後にして、娘の肩に縋つてゐるのは、堀河の御邸に繋いであつた、あの良秀と諢名のある猿だつたのでございますから。その猿が何処をどうしてこの御所まで、忍んで来たか、それは勿論誰にもわかりません。」
“Amidst the burned crimson-lacquered lattice which was crumbling in pieces, it put it hands on the warped shoulders of the girl, and gave, out of the screens of black smoke, a long and piercing shriek of intense grief like the tearing of silk, then again two or three successive screams. Involuntarily we gave a unanimous outcry of surprise.
What was holding fast to the shoulders of the dead girl, with the red curtain of blazing flames behind it, was the monkey, which went by the nickname of Yoshihide at the mansion of Horikawa.”
That would be Ryoshu, following the original Yoshihide's portrayal most closely—not some tragic, repressed character. As for how Project Moon plans to cook her up, only they know. They’re keeping it under wraps, so no player can analyze her in depth just yet. What if they decide to make her a fusion dance of the lord, the painter, and the daughter?
For those who like Ryoshu because she’s a handsome, domineering figure—well, lucky you, no worries there.
#limbus company#ryoshu lcb#no art#I was having discussion with my fellow Ryōshū enjoyer and this is our thought about Ryōshū#wall of text warning#i was have to read the entire jigoku hen in japanese again
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Campus Culture | L.DH
Pairings: Himbo!Haechan x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Haechan turns into a completely loveable but mindless replica of himself when inebriated and only Drunk Haechan might be able to seduce his uptight roomate... it only counts as a drunken mistake if it happens once, right?
Sfw Warnings: Roomates AU, Fwb to Lovers, Forbbidden Relationship, Confessions, Fluff, Alcohol consumption, Angst, CollegeAU, Himbo!Haechan
Nsfw Warnings: Smut (+18, Minors DNI) Fwb to lovers Roomate!Haechan, Perv! Haechan, Dub/CON, Grinding, Choking, Premature Ejaculation, Handjob, Needy!Haechan, Rough sex, Oral Fixation, Nipple play, Unprotected Sex (don't be dumb), Cervix Fucking, Breeding Kink, Cum Play.
A/n: This is more of an enemies to lovers if you squint. If you feel triggered by very slight depictions of bullying, please be wary. I also had no idea where I was going with this. It all just kinda spewed out. ANYWAY, I love Himbos
Usually, you're better equipped for an evening with Haechan's juvenile friends coming over and doing whatever it is that boy's seem to do once they're inebriated in each other's company.
"The bear emerges from hibernation,"
Haechan's voice is like that of a nature documentary narrator, and his head is in his hands as he leans over the armrest with a smile on his face.
“Rested, and in search of something to sink her teeth into.” You remain stoic faced as you breeze past the group of boys on your way to the kitchen adjacent to the living room.
With only a shallow counter to separate the two spaces, you're still roused by the sight of Haechan in your periphery, legs spread and head thrown back as he watches you with a dopey smile.
Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun and Jisung murmur their greetings dismissively, still vividly engrossed in their game while Chenle types away at the screen of his phone, his mind all together trapped in cyberspace. You breathe out airly as a vague sort of peace befalls you. This has become your norm.
They are so incredibly loud, Haechan's friend's are, that their cacophony bled through every thin wall in your shared apartment. So loud, in fact, that you were made privy to every degenerate, delinquent, and downright disgusting little detail that swam about in their conversation.
Whenever they were over, there was a vibrancy permeating throughout the apartment, which was either attributed to Haechan's need to speak at a higher octave than the rest of the group or Chenle’s obnoxious, though admittedly contagious laughter.
Not everything was daisies and sunshine, however.
You were made subject to Haechan's incessant teasing and petulance that only seemed to double in the presence of his friends. You ignored him, viewing his behavior as a package of a roommate system (more accurately: needing his money to keep yourself and your academic pursuits afloat.)
Even more harrowing is the fact that Haechan is completely accommodating, dare you say, even hospitable (when he's sober). It was very difficult to hate him. No matter how badly you wished to let your vexation infect the inner crevices of your mind... he always made sure to let you know in advance.
He'd knock softly on the door (a by-product of a covenant you both had forged upon deciding to live together. Knocking is something akin to treading carefully through a graveyard. Sacred) letting his usually loud voice simmer to a whisper because he almost always caught you studying at your tiny, disastrous desk and he'd say, "Hey, just a heads up, they're coming over tonight,"
You did not need clarification on the ambiguity of who 'they' were but your heart would plummet all the same.
His warning would allow you, not only to stuff your headphones around your neck, for easier access whenever the noise became too oppressive, but it also allowed you to grab the snacks and food necessary before locking yourself in your room.
Not attributed to any social anxiety, but Haechan's friends had proven to be... difficult to bear in their own ways. There was Chenle, Renjun, and Mark, who held a sort of distinguished naughtiness that you fancied way more than Jeno, Jaemin, Jisung, and Haechan's borderline flirting.
It had proven very difficult not to be included in their antics, especially given the very annoying fact that their energy was so freaking infectious.
As you proceed to turn on the kettle, Haechan speaks up once again. “Since you're already there… a coke, please, Madame.” He knew that you knew that he did not actually want a coke. He just wanted to see you vexed.
“Your legs are in perfect working condition, last I checked," your face remained stoic as you said, “Get your own coke.”
Jaemin immediately cackles to Haechan's right, prompting a light snicker from Chenle and the rest. Haechan sends a worried gaze towards them before bringing his eyes back to yours. Now he's on a mission to piss you off even more.
“C’mon...” he whines in an over indulgent American accent. “Be a doll and hand me a coke-I mean a beer." He stretches his neck from side to side, now deep into his theatrics, "I'm a man-”
The knife clanks on the counter as you scoff, “Since when?" You ask, "And what is with this ‘I'm a man’ stuff?”
Haechan only swats animetedly at the air, “It's cus I'm a man, Jagi. You don't get it cus you're not a ma-”
“Yeah,” you say, turning to prepare your noodles, “I don't wanna know actually.”
There's a sudden influx of celebratory hollering from Jaemin and Jeno, while Renjun and Jisung groan in defeat, signaling the end of their game.
Jaemin turns to you as he says “You seriously don't remember?”
You let the silence speak for you.
“He’s been like this ever since the asexual comment.”
The laughter escapes your throat as you shift your eyes to a now moody and grumbling Haechan. His arms are crossed as he avoids eye contact.
“Seriously?! That's why you've been on such a toxic gym bro kick?”
The flamboyant accent is still present as Haechan says, “Hey man, if you're not gonna get me a coke, just say that, I've got places to be people to see-”
The snort leaves your lips before you can stop it, “You've got a psych textbook to see and you're not even seeing that.”
“Stop with the celibacy jokes before he becomes worse!” begs Renjun.
Your mouth is open in false accusation, with the hints of a smile present, “It's quite literally not my fault Haechan's a virgin.”
“I'm not a virgin!” Haechan whines, letting his previously infuriating accent dissolve into his perfectly infuriating normal voice. “I have sex, all the time, tell her Jaemin. Tell her I have sex.” Your eye shifts easily to Jaemin, who only shakes his head.
“Ah, I told my therapist I'm trying to be more honest in my day to day,"
Now your laughter bubbles up to the ceiling, and you're throwing your head back, eyes shut.
“You all make me wanna kill myself.” Says Haechan, pushing himself up from the couch. The sight of him approaching sobers you ineffably from your laughter. He's not particularly tall, but there's a quality about him that asserts itself as height. A silent substitute.
“I’m being falsely accused of being a virgin, I have to get my own cokes?! What is this life of mine?!" A snicker escaped the confines of your lips as you empty your noodles into your bowl. Your albeit small little laugh was a sound so pretty, Haechan could not help but perk his ears up at the sound.
He inched his way slowly into the kitchen as you took one giant unladylike bite from your noodles. Unbeknownst to you, Haechan shares a glance with Chenle over in the living room. One that prompts Chenle into stabbing Renjun in the ribs with his elbow. They were all watching as you tried to shuffle past Haechan.
Haechan, who wouldn't let you pass until heard him say,
"Not a virgin." The words were veneered in a quiet whisper and in those few seconds, you were convinced the globe had stopped spinning on its imaginary axis. You became hyperaware of yourself, the noodles still very much inside your mouth and the soup dribbling out the corners. You clumsily wipe at your lip as you gaze up at him, smiling away like the Cheshire Cat.
While your heart proceeded its cataclysmic aself destruction, Chenle released the first snort. A snort that prompted an entire wave of laughter from his gaggle of friends. They were all laughing now. Haechan's face melted into a spout of his own laughter until he was doubled over.
"Mm," your nostiled flared , "I'll be in my room," You had disappeared in a hurry, hellbent on returning to your room. Hellbent on calming your runaway heart.
While you were nursing wave after wave of embarrassment, Haechan's eyes were sparkling with mischief.
"Don't even try," Jaemin snickered, noticing that look in Haechan's eye as he stared after you. "She's locked up tighter than a prison. You'll only get your wittle heart broken."
The following Friday had arrived with the small promise that you were to stay in your room for the foreseeable evening. You had chosen to occupy yourself from Haechan's 'get together' by sitting at your desk, like most of your nights: Completely absorbed in perfecting your English Lit notes on Post colonialism.
Your eyes were practically glued on the endless enriching notes written by Achebe, Lamming, and various other authors you revered religiously. Your studying had been going swimmingly until the arrival of a drunk, slightly dazed Haechan, indicated by the heaviness of his bloodshot eyes and the slight sway in his form by the door. Haechan was a very different person when he was drunk. He got sloppy, as if he was at constant war with reality.
You both pause, in a vague liminal space until he breaks the silence with a breathy slight slur, “Well, this isn't the bathroom,”
Your eyes narrow. You can't help but snap in a manner that makes you forget all your civility.
“Evidently,” you say with an unimpressed drawl.
He lived here. He should know where the bathroom is, inebriated or not.
There is a tone in your voice that was specifically crafted to have him cringing away from you, like most men on campus tended to do. You were too much of a straight arrow for them, too narrow-minded with not enough complexities and not enough strings that needed detangling. Most men saw that you could smell the bullshit from a mile away, and you were very much aware of what they referred to you as…
Uptight.
Instead of shrinking away like you initially expected, a small, almost thrilled smile curls at the ends of his purt, heart-shaped lips. He only steps closer into your space.
“No, don't do that,” You're scowling at him but still, the bear refuses to retreat.
Your messy desk where you remain seated in a chair seems to catch his attention until soon, he's leaning back against the desk in front of you.
“Don't you need the bathroom-”
“You don't want me here?” He asked, genuinely confused as if everyone was just dying to be in his presence, “I'm not sure what you're busy with over here, but I could help,” He says, swiping a large hand over at the piles of notes scattered on the desk.
“I shouldn't have to tell you not to invade my personal space, Haechan. If this is some stupid dare-"
“Only strangers can invade each other's space, Jagiya," he whispers, snortingbas if you were the one acting silly here. “We're not strangers. I'm your dumb virgin roomate, right?"
Your eyes widen imperceptibly as you push yourself up from your chair.
“I'm going to fucking kill you when you're sober-”
“I'm not even that drunk.” He deadpans. It's as if this boy is unable to mask whatever emotion that seems to pass through him at that very moment.
“I just wanted to check on you.” He beams as he pushes himself further along your desk.
“Are all these notes yours?” He asks, picking up one of your discarded notes. You strive to grab at the flimsy pieces of notepad paper in his hands, but he swipes it swiftly out of reach every time.
“Haechan, you're messing up my system-”
“You must be really smart,” he whispers, and you immediately chastise yourself for letting his words erupt a sudden electrical storm through your once steady heartbeat. “Your handwriting is so pretty too… woah,” he admires before you see his eyes quickly peek about from the paper, “I really like smart girls,”
You find your voice, hidden somewhere in the depths of being flustered. He interrupts you, all the same, “It's okay to say you're smart… I think that's really, like, hot-”
It's impossible to account for the events that followed in a somewhat episodic format because nothing like it had ever happened to you before.
One moment, Haechan is gazing down at you like he wants to eat you and the next, his hand is wrapped around your throat, pulling you up from your chair until your lips are crashing onto his… You had not perceived just how touched starved you were, until you found your inhibitions melting, and you were kissing him back just as fiercely. He was impatient and sloppy, pushing his tongue in too quickly while his hand marked up every inch of your body. “Pretty,” he mumbled in between wet kisses, “You so pretty… y'just feel so pretty.” Once Haechan's lust was involved, the rest of his brain, it seemed, shut down like the finishing hours of a toy factory. He was switching your positions, pushing you onto the desk as he trailed kisses down your neck.
“Your friends,” you murmured before throwing your head back, offering him better access, “We can't.”
“We can,” he nodded, while pushing himself in between your legs, “We can because I want to,” He punctuated his sentence by thrusting his sweatpants-clad hips right against your core. He seemed to have quickly caught a liking to this form of intimacy because soon, Haechan is breaking apart fromcthe kiss to gaze down at his hips pushing against your core.
His breath is peppered with a soft and dazed, “Woah…”
He nodded very slowly, “I like this very much.” Haechan said with grave finality, which evidently was the calm before the storm. You locked your hand around your mouth as Haechan sank his fingers into the sides of your hips, grinding his bulge against your core like there was nothing else that mattered. He brought your hips to meet each of his stuttering but hard thrusts and your head fell back in the stuttering… constant… impact.
“See?” He says, “See how good it feels?” he mumbles incoherently, now in a violent pursuit of his own orgasm. “F-Fuck,” he whimpered, feeling his cock twitching in his sweats. A feeling that usually let him know the end was near. He quickly clamped his hands on the underside of your ass before lifting you slightly off the desk, just enough to move impossibly closer between your legs.
He hugged you, wanting to feel your soft tits pushing up against him as he was grinding you both to a quick orgasm.
“You're close aren't you?” His voice cracks when he says, “Please be close, because I'm so fucking close-”
But all you're able to do is fight to keep your eyes open as you watch the slightly cracked open door. “H-Haechan-”
“Look at me, Cupcake,” he practically whined before forcefully bringing your eyes back to him with a flick of your chin.
The eye contact sent him down a rampage of lust and his hips stuttered as his mouth hung open,“F-Fuck, just like that- you're so good-” he lifted his baggy shirt, to watch himself thrust one more time before his rhythm crumbled and his hips stuttered as he came in his sweats.
You did not have the energy to tell him you didn't cum, only sprouting a brand new vexation as he swayed his way in search of the bathroom.
That had been your first and last devious encounter, before you avoided him like the plague. It had not taken much, because Haechan was vastly more sensible when he was sober. Emerging from his room like a bear out of his den and rubbing his messy head of black hair as he grumbled, “Did I do something weird last night? Or stupid?” He groans, “I have this feeling that I did something extra stupid and weird last night.” Although your heart plummeted minutely, you saw this as a lifeline and you took it.
“You were drunk, Haechan, so you probably most certainly did.”
You allowed yourself to live in the peace of sober Haechan until things once again only got dangerous on Friday nights, when his enablers would all congregate in the living room, tossing back cans of beer.
Your quick trip to the bathroom had ended with Haechan looming in the doorway, once again. With a near constant pout he exclaimed, “I missed you!”
“You see me everyday,” you grumbled before making your way to the sink to wash your hands. There was a bubbling in your stomach, that you would only dissect later. Whether it was excitement or frustration at seeing him this way.
“Still missed you-”
“I think you missed my body,” you said, before drying your hands, “Not me.”
“Both. I missed both,” he says, before beaming the sunniest, brightest smile you had ever seen on a face. You had to look away as you stepped towards him, for your sanity.
“Please move, Hyuck-”
“I wanna play,” he says, “We had so much fun the last time,”
“You fucking seduced me the last time and I fell for it like an idiot." You sighed deeply, "I studied myself to exhaustion. Im such a fucking idiot.”
He looks deep into your eyes as he very seriously says, “Don't say that-”
“What do you like about me? I mean what could you actually like and appreciate about me-” For all of 5 seconds the boy is trapped in a worrying daze. As the seconds tick on, your blood pressure rises and you're pushing roughly at his chest, which once again proves to be futile. “Fucking move, Haechan. I'm not doing this with you.”
His whines soar higher, “But why?! I didn't even really get to see your boobs, please let me see your boobs?” you stop his hand on its way to cup your breasts in mid air. He slumps
“You make me wanna kill myself.” He grumbles before stomping away to rejoin his friends. As Haechan sat down he breathed out heavily before whining, kicking and punching at the air. His friends, seeing nothing new with his tantrum, did not entertain it as they played their games.
Haechan just couldn't understand. He wanted you and, based on everything that transpired, you wanted him. So why not just let it happen?
You were making things too complicated and complicated is not something he enjoyed very much.
Haechan did not grasp onto much but you make it exceptionally clear that you did not want the interaction to be made public knowledge, and he, surprisingly obeyed your wishes. Your only enemy, it seems, were these hangouts Haechan scheduled with his friends. You liked to avoid unnecessary juvenile squabbling when necessary. You had to study instead, until you built the proper revenue to buy an apartment of your own, free from Haechan's provocation.
But you had fallen asleep.
The dusk bleeding into darkness until you were peeling your face off of your Classical lit textbook and nursing a grumbling stomach...
Your ears perked and your stomach sank as you heard boyish laughter bleed in through the cracks of the doorway. They had already arrived and you had zero rations to combat this venomous hunger.
It was guaranteed to be a short and curt journey past the small apartment living room, into the kitchen. A journey whereby you would pray you evade the group of boys invading your shared living room. Or at least one boy in particular...
Had Haechan been a non factor, your anxieties would have been perfectly nullified, but tin the wake of a troublesome post-study hunger, you had no other choice but to venture out into the living room.
You had hope your trip would be a curt one, entertaining not a single, word, jab, or comment as you were on your way to fly to the kitchen. Your feet stopped you before you could make it. Arrested in stark realisation that there is no noise at all. You round the short corner to find Haechan seated patiently on his couch with his hoodie up, tapping away at a mobile game while humming angelically. You immediately noted that he was sober and that set your mild frustrations at ease.
“Oh, hey,” you murmured, before swaying over to the adjoining Kitchen, separated only by a shallow counter. As you stare down at your yoghurt, you miss the way in which Haechan's face snaps up at tye sound of your voice. His feet fly off the coffee table and he rights himself infinitesimally.
“You guys aren't hanging out today?”
“There's a party somewhere on campus,” he switches his phone off and stuffs it into the pocket of his goodies as he shrugs, “Didn't feel like going.”
You walk back into the living room, and Haechan watches as you nod silently before planting yourself on the couch next to him. He's very perceptive and plants a couch cushion behind your back in the process. You realise then that you much preferred him this way.
“I'm having a hard time guaging the fact that you didn't wanna get drunk,” although a short chuckle escapes your lips, Haechan is not laughing. “I don't always think about getting drunk, you know.” The smile disappears from your face automatically as you bring a spoon of yoghurt to your lips.
“Of course… sorry-”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Haechan watches your tongue lightly poke out and nip at the yoghurt before lazily bringing his eyes back to you. “If anything, I should be sorry.” An immediate wave of discomfort washed over you when the words left his mouth. So he was aware.
“Drunk Haechan sucks,” he says, “You don't have to make excuses for him.” You're caught in a wave of silence, your yoghourt forgotten on your lap. He wants to pull back but he has your attention now and it's fueling him with all the confidence he needs before he's scooting closer on the couch, until your thigh is directly against his.
“Earlier in the week you asked me what I like about you-”
“Haechan, you don't have to-”
The discomfort bled into embarrassment now and you fought to get up but he placed his hand on yours.
“I don't remember what I said,'' his lips pout lightly as his eyebrows furrow, “I don't know if I said anything at all. I just… want you to know that I wasn't quiet because nothing came to mind. I was speechless because it was like trying to list the stars. Tiring and fucking endless.” He breathed out, before looking away abashedly, “You're a good cook,” he says, “you always make us something to eat for Friday nights. You're so driven, in a way that is equal parts obsessive but also really fucking hot.” Your mouth parts slightly and Haechan's eyes once again lazily drops down to watch them. His voice is airy and loght as he says, “Fuck, and you're so pretty and smart.” He's speaking purely from a place of lust and admiration, which only has you melting further. You much preferred this Haechan.
“You make me feel safe because I know you always have the answers…” You let his words hang stagnant in the air for a while, letting yourself marinate in the pleasure of it, while his own thumb rubs circles around the back of your hand.
“I mean…” The Insecurities were steadily sinking in because by the laws of campus culture, you both were not supposed to be together. Your names were met with different responses and different emotions attached to them. You'd hate his popularity to diminish because of you. Instead of spewing out these words, you only whispered, “Are you sure? I mean, think of what people-”
In a series of swift movements, Haechan's hand cradling your own had gripped down tighter before dragging your hand until it was flush against his bulge. He releases a heavy breath as his eyes fall momentarily shut. Gritting his teeth together as he throws his head back in momentary euphoria as if he had been waiting to do this.
He brushes your hand up and down as he says, “Don't you dare ask me if I'm sure.” He says, unable to stop himself rutting against your hand. A wave of confidence soon falls until you're taking control and crawling your hand up to the waistband of his sweats. He whines in anticipation as you stuff your hand inside until you are cupping his underwear-clad bulge in your open palm. Haechan's eyes are heavy when he swings his head lazily to you, watching you watch his hips lift to graze himself against your hand.
“I need you,” he whispers, before raising a hand, immediately cupping your breasts, “I need you so fucking bad.” He can feel the presume wet the tight constraints of his boxers and he locks his jaw tighter. “I wanna fuck you, Cupcake,” your stomach warms at the reiterating of the nickname he had given you when he was drunk and equally ravenous, “Please let me,” He juts his hips up with every whine that escapes his throat, “Please-”
“I need you too-” before the words even leave your mouth he's lunging at you in a wild kiss. “Fuck, your lips are so soft,” he mumbles before forcing his his thumb into your mouth and watching with heavy eyelids as he lowers you onto the couch. Your jaw goes limp as Haechan, seemingly entranced with swiping his thumb along your wet tongue.
“So warm,” he murmurs as he hovers above you. Haechan lowers himself between your open legs, “Your mouth I'd so fucking pretty, so fucking warm-”
He sounded exactly like he sounded when he was drunk. Sloppy, incoherent and not making much sense. But you could not discount the pool of wetness that glistened your underwear as Haechan continued to play with your tongue.
“Fuck-” He whispers, watching the saliva coat his finger as he unconsciously thrusts his bulge once again into your core. He seems too realise that he hadn't, in fact, pulled his cock out and he curses lightly before hurriedly moving to do just that.
“Your boobs-” He whispers as he pulls his aching cock out, “Please let me see-”
Before the words even leave his mouth you're pulling your shorts and top off swiftly. Haechan immediately doubles over, thrusting into the air once before he's fisting the base of his cock, as if he was on the cusp of cumming.
“F-Fuck, I think I need to fuck you now-” He said, already sinking deep into you. Your moans fight valiantly to drown out his perpetual whines before he buries his face in between your neck and shoulders. He's breathing heavily as he begins to fuck steadily up into you, releasing little melodic ‘hah, hah, hah's as he peels back to look down at you with heavy pussy-drunk eyes.
“Fuck it feels so good, Haechan,” he thrusts harder at that before lowering his lips to your nipple and sucking without ever breaking eye contact. The stimulation from your nipple and the head of his cock bumping into your cervix has your mind spinning with euphoria. You haven't even cum yet but this feels like you're trapped in that same state of pleasure.
“Fuck, baby you're so tight around my cock,’ his breath blows down against your wet nipple and you buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. “If you carry on like this you're gonna make me spill inside you,” you throw your head back, mouth parting even wider as a chorus of moans leave your throat after his sentence.
“F-Fuck you want that? You want me to cum inside you?”
You cannot speak, completely fargone at this point but your cunt still clenching around him is all the answer he needs before he's ramming into you with urgency. “Fuck, you,make me feel so good Cupcake-” He's once again pressing his fingers into your mouth, as of needing to feel the warm wetness just to get off.
He's looking down at you as of you hung the moon, “F-Fuck I'm cumming-” He fights to keep his eyes open and watch you whine around his fingers as your own orgasm crashes in violent succession. You're both fighting to press your hips together, he's fighting to stay inside as an endless string of cum flights to push him out. You're both breathing heavily, both staring into each other's eyes as Haechan pulls his middle and index finger out of your mouth. You're absolutely speechless as he cleans his fingers with his own mouth, all without breaking eye contact.
“I… can't believe I came like that-” You say, eyes caught in a daze.
“Shit- I was supposed to rub your clit, wasn't I?” He's already slipping out of you and craning open your legs.
“N-No, Haechan I came, I promise I came. Fuck-” He's rubbing small circles against your puffy clit, using his cum as lube. “You have no idea how badly I needed you cumminh around my cock like that,” he says before spraying a gentle kiss against your knee. He's playing with your cunt, not to bring you to orgasm, you realise, but unconsciously. “We're boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?”
You snicker lightly before nodding with finality. Thus, as the beginning of a new but interesting dynamic, in which you drove Haechan to study more while he, in the same breath, got you to open up more. He dropped your inhibitions and coaxed you out of your comfort zone…
#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct dream x female reader#nct dream x black reader#nct dream x you#haechan smut#haechan x reader#haechan#haechan fanfic#haechan imagines#lee haechan fanfic#lee haechan smut
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You, anon-sect, were going about your usual routine of going to the gym and hanging out with friends. After several hours in the hot sunshine, you decided to head home. Taking a seat on the train home, you heard the pleading cries of the transformed victims trapped on your feet. You had seriously abused them today, but they were just your socks and shoes, so you didn't care. Your feet were sweating like crazy, forcing both socks and shoes to absorb it all. As you wiggled your toes within them, you could tell the shoes didn't have long left before they were completely trashed.
Looking around the train car, you noticed a perfect target to TF into new ones just a few feet away from you. He was a muscular looking stud with a handsome face that you were dying to step on as an insole. The stud was also completely distracted by his phone, making it even easier to TF him without him even realizing that he's screwed. This made your cock very hard.
Sliding yourself up the row towards him, you subtly eyed him up, imagining how comfortable he was gonna be on your feet. You pulled out the TF device and set the program to “SHOES/PERMANENT”. After making sure no one was watching, you pulled the trigger on it and fired the device at the guy. There was a bright flash of light, and as it died down, Anon-sect, you expected to see your new shoes sitting on the seat in front of you, but somehow…someway, the muscular guy was still there, completely untouched by the transformation beam. This was more than confusing for you, you had done this so many times in the past. At this point, you had probably transformed hundreds of innocent lives, irreversibly reshaped into any object you deemed them to be. No one had ever resisted the effects of your device up till this point, it was outright impossible for this guy to still be human.
You pondered what might've gone wrong, looking over the device best you can without drawing too much attention. You were angry, no, Furious that he had survived your shot, so when he started chatting with you, it took everything in you to not blow up at him.
“Hey, did your little toy break? Aww, that sucks man…”, the guy across from you spoke up, sounding exactly like the dumb ‘Jock Bro’ he appeared to be. There was a hint of sympathy in his voice, which you had to hold your breath at to keep from laughing. You had just tried to turn him into your permanent footwear, and he was saddened by your perceived “broken toy”? It made you wonder, if you told him what you had planned on doing to him, would he apologize for failing to become your shoes? Man, this guy is such an easy target, it almost felt cruel…
“No, it's not broken. It's also not a toy, but if I told you what it really was, I'd have to, in a literal sense, put a foot in your mouth”, you snapped back at him, smirking slightly at your own sly word play and continued trying to suss out the fault in the device.
The guy had a dumbfounded look on his face, but then he seemed to catch on to something, “Uh…ohhh, like some kind of secret project? Aw, that's pretty cool man! I've actually got my own secret project goin’, wanna see!?”,
This guy was starting to annoy you, but not to seem suspicious, you looked up at him, faining curiously.
The guy looked overjoyed to see you interested in his so called “secret project”. He excitedly turned his phone towards you and showed you the image that was on the screen. “I snapped a pic of these awesome shoes that I want, am just waitin’ on them realizing they're supposed to be there”. Despite his obvious luke-warm IQ, it was hard not to be indeered to this guy. You were ready to write him off as a dumb meathead that would soon be imprisoned on your feet…until you actually looked at the picture on his phone. It showed a pair of white coloured High-Top sneakers, with red and black accents. You had to agree, they did look pretty awesome…however, the picture depicted the shoes on the floor of the train car, the exact same one you were in…then you realized what kind of phone this guy had…it was a TF phone.
You started to feel extremely lightheaded, your surroundings spinning rapidly around you. You looked down at your own TF device and your mistake was flashing right in your face. “Please Confirm Your Settings” was displayed on its screen. You had forgotten to press confirm, and without doing that, the device would never have fired…which meant that the bright flash of a TF beam didn't come from your device after all, but instead it came from the Muscular Jock Bro's phone!
Looking up at him in horror, you slid off your seat and landed with a thud on the floor right by the guy's nasty, beat-up gym sneakers.
“Yo, what you doin’ on the floor man…? Oh, wait! Are you tryna catch a whiff of ma feets? That's kinda weird Bro, my feet really stink, but, I guess it ain't hurtin’ no one…”, and with a confused, but friendly smile, the guy kicked off his sneakers and pressed his hot, stinky, sweat-soaked socked feet right against your face. “Oh, by the way, ma names Chad! I would ask for your name, but, I don't think shoes deserve names…”, despite retaining his air-headed bubbly himbo tone, the last line he spoke had a sinister edge to it, revealing that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
You had become completely paralyzed shortly after landing on the floor, so you could do nothing as the guy shoved his stinking, rancid feet in your face. Was this karma…? Was the universe torturing you like this as a form of revenge on behalf of all your former victims? This was the only explanation that made sense to you. How else could you have forgotten such a simple step like press confirm on your settings, you've done that a million times! All you could do was sniff, Chad's putrid, toxic foot stink no doubt speeding up the transformation process as you felt a strange sensation in your skin.
“Uh…hey Bro!”, the guy called down to you, pretending badly to sound concerned, “you don't look so good, man…it looks like you'returnin’ whit! Are ma feets too stinky for ya!? Aw, am so sorry, Man”, his tone was dripping with sarcasm, and even worse, you could spot a very visible bulge pressing against his sweats…he was enjoying this.
His feet were so rancid, but they were the least of your concerns. With pleading eyes, you looked up at him, begging, praying he would stop this…but the look of pleasure on his face told you that was never going to happen. As he gently stroked the sizable bulge in his pants, you felt your skin get tighter, squeezing out a few tears from your eyes…you didn't want this, you didn't want to be some guy's shoes! This guy was supposed to be your shoes!! As you felt a mix of fear and anger, your transformation seemed to accelerate, causing intense pain and discomfort as your body began to contort and reshape into its new form.
Staring down at you, the guy was now smirking, excited as he watched this happening to you. “Yo!!! Bro!!!! You're ma fuckin’ shoes now!!! Hahaha, pathetic loser!!!“, the guy eagerly watched as your horrific transformation was finalized, leaving you looking exactly like the picture on his phone.
Wasting no time, the guy pulled you onto his feet, your face instantly being squashed beneath his hot smelly foot. “Oh man, you feel so good on me, so comfortable!”, he remarked, pressing his foot down hard against your insole face.
This was Hell…not only were his feet fucking toxic, but the guy himself was a huge mound of muscle, weighing at least 400 pounds. However, your situation quickly changed from bad to worse when he pulled on the other shoe. From your experience with TFing people, you obviously knew the face became one of the insoles, but you never could figure out what formed the other insole…until now.
As Chad pulled on the other shoe, you could feel his sweaty toes sliding along your dick, before his heel settled down on top of your balls…this sensation made you want to cum so hard, but you couldn't, your cock was an insole. This orgasmic pleasure soon intensified as Chad played with the shoe on his foot, as if he knew your penis was now its insole. Pleasure turned to pain as there was no way to release the tension.
“Oh please…please let me cum…oh god it hurts!!! Just let me cum, please god let me cum!!!”, you mentally begged, screamed and cried, but to release came. You were locked in eternal orgasm for the rest of your life!
“Oh f-fuck…”, that was the last thought you had before his full weight crushed down on your privets. You were in agony, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
As for the muscular guy, he couldn't help but admire the quality of his new shoes! They felt high end, and super comfortable. Testing them out with a stroll up and down the train car, he found that the shoes would contract around his feet with each step, almost as if the shoes were giving his feet a massage as he walked. “Man, it was awesome of you to turn into my shoes! Am gonna wear you everyday Bro, especially to the gym! You're ma new favorite pair now!”, he excitedly informed you, mercilessly wiggling his big thick toes on you.
You screamed at the thought of that. Everyday!? There was no way you could mentally survive that! You began to cry and plead, begging to be turned human again, but it never came. You would live out the rest of your existence on his feet, smelling, tasting and feeling every second of it at 10000X the insanity of a normal human.
Chad kept his word and wore you every single day, and to torture you even further, he also never changed his sock either. Eventually, you would begin to rot on his feet, his rancid sweat dissolving your shoe bodies. First to go was your insole cock. Chad's sweat had quickly stained it a deep orange, and once that happened, the integrity of your insole cock rapidly deteriorated with searing, blinding pain. You thought your mind was going to burn up…in fact, you hoped it would…unfortunately it stayed intact, forcing you to feel you cock and balls rot away beneath Chad's foot. Next was your face, you could both smell and taste yourself rotting, but you never died. Chad simply threw you in a closet with the rest of his rotting sneakers, leaving you to your fate in pain and agony as shoes, forever!
This is a post requested by @anon-sect Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)
Go check out @anon-sect and enduldge in his amazing TF stories!!
#inanimate transformation#permanent tf#inanimate tf#shoe tf#thank you#jock feet#tf story#tf caption#clothing tf
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an overview of my progress on the new site over the past 5 months of building
i decided i would put together a big post compiling all of the things i have currently implemented to the new site since at the moment it's scattered amongst a million small update posts. i feel like this will be good reference for anyone who has ideas that aren't included yet
the comic reader
you can now change the placement of the comic pagination arrows to be above, below, or on both the top and bottom of the comic page.
you can search for individual page numbers via a search bar (and also search 'cover' 'back cover' etc)
you can bookmark pages and save your place at any time in any series, and the home landing page will give you a link to your saved page when you revisit the site so you dont have to go all the way to the read section just to access your place. saving your bookmark tells you what page you're saving (or clearing if you're removing it)
you can now select individual scenes in the volume that have non-spoiler names but proper associations to the content for returning readers to quickly find specific scenes
on desktop you can change the size of the page on your screen
on desktop you can hide the site header (this is not necessary on mobile)
there is a legend explaining what each button does
new comment service that does not have ads
transcripts now come from the sides of the screens and do not require scrolling down to read them, and they are correct and no longer inaccurate on certain pages
tooltips that explain what each navigation arrow button is for
content warnings
you can select individual categories of content you do or don't want to see via switches
you have the ability to disable warnings entirely if you wish, just turn all of them off
you can choose between verbal warnings (stuff in dialogue) or visual warnings (things seen on-screen)
you can suggest adding content warnings to specific pages if there are errors OR if there is something major i overlooked
there is a page that lists every content warning in a volume with contexts for each individual warning, whether it's verbal or visual, and links to the pages
there is a pre-moderated comment section that allows anyone to ask questions about content warnings (for example, asking if something will ever be in the comic or asking what category something specific would be listed under).
there is a list of things that do not get warnings and a list of things that will never be depicted in the comic
scenes that did not have content warnings before now have them to match the proper category system
archives
volume archives are now images instead of links, and they are displayed in a grid format which is mobile-responsive so it doesn't take absolutely forever to scroll through an entire volumes archive
volume summaries are more easily accessible
the new transcript archive which is a text-only version of the entire comic, including a clean version in case you need things in dialogue filtered out
mobile devices/tablets
the website is now properly mobile responsive and designed to function like a regular mobile website and is not unbearable to use anymore. it just feels and looks like any other mobile site!
comic pages now touch the edge of the screen and do not always require zooming in to read dialogue
transcripts are now more device-friendly and do not appear broken on small screen devices anymore
all comic reader features work on mobile (except the 2 desktop-only features)
content warnings do not take up too much space or overflow the comic page box
margins are improved to make basically everything more mobile friendly
you can still see page backgrounds faintly on mobile, but they have an overlay to make reading the comic page contents easier. this was not originally planned but i made it happen! yippie!
display
the site now has a built-in dark mode that works for every site theme, however, keep in mind that due to the nature of dark themes they are obviously not as colorful as the main site themes
there is now a saturation slider which changes the saturation of the site to whatever percentage you wish
saturation affects the background and does not ignore it
the screen does not flash as new elements load in, however, images specifically may take a moment to load depending on your internet speed. this is something i'm trying to fix but i can't guarantee it because it's not entirely in my control how websites load images depending on your internet speed
secrets!
cast page
cast page for each series is divided by individual character type (main patients, side patients, main staff, side staff, family, outsiders etc)
cast profiles are mobile responsive in an easy-to-use way and do not take forever to scroll through on mobile devices, instead they are collapsible and you only have one open at a time.
desktop has anchor links to specific profiles using my cute emoji edits :]
search bar on the main cast directory page that takes you to specific characters by entering their name (or variations of it)
profiles include allotpuns, genders, pronouns, nouns, sexuality, species, age, hatchday, height, and a list of all of their afflictions
there are popups that explain the meanings of certain phrases or words (like specific sexualities) and neopronoun usage explanations and examples
cast page profiles for all of the currently public cast members
biographies that contain character history (or at least the currently public history) and a detailed explanation of their personality that replaces the trait system for simplicity's sake
secrets!
comic itself
pages with errors have been corrected
pages with improper characterization/retconned information have been updated and replaced with new dialogue
character card intros now contain pronouns and retconned pronouns have been corrected
uni is no longer referred to with exclusively he/him anywhere except in the comic itself to avoid confusing new readers/people who do not look at other areas of the site
scenes that did not previously have site themes now have them, for fun!
secrets!
FAQ
the FAQ is no longer a million miles long despite containing all of the questions it originally had. it is now collapsible sections that make accessing certain question types easier
pre-moderated comment section that allows anyone to ask questions about the comic, even if they do not have a tumblr account. these questions are directly on the FAQ itself. it is pre-moderated to keep things on-topic.
bug report page where you can describe problems you're having if the site isn't working right for you. this is also pre-moderated. common/important issues will be pinned
navigation bar
there will be links to all of the ask blogs on the navigation bar, including the AUs
there is a link to the spinch lore page directly at the top. no more digging through the FAQ!
navigation bar has dropdowns to specific types of pages to increase the link count without cluttering/taking up too much space
the links are no longer poorly sized images, instead they are actually made with html
landing page
when you first open the site, you will be linked to a settings page that allows you to set your display settings and content warnings in advance
you can set saturation and select dark mode if you want
this landing page is not bright and has an overlay to prevent it from immediately forcing you to see bright colors
this is everything that is currently implemented. there may be things added in the future, this is just all of my current progress.
what do i have to finish?
uploading the comic. i currently have volumes 1-2 fully uploaded and transcribed, v3 is fully uploaded, and v4 is undergoing the upload process.
finish the archive pages to include all of the volumes
finish the cast profiles
work on the spinch lore page
do proper beta testing with the crew to make sure everything works on as many devices as i can possibly test it on
thank you to everyone for being patient with me over the past few months as i work hard on this. i feel really good actually writing out everything i've done overall because i have more progress than i actually realized!!! i hope everyone is excited to see all of this in action because i can't wait for you to see it either!
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The answer to the question of ‘is Manfred von Karma German?’ Is actually a surprisingly complicated one.
Because in the original version of ‘Ace Attorney’ he is supposed to be a local. That is to say, Japanese. He has a Japanese name (Gō Karuma), he has Implied Off-Screen Japanese Ancestors implied in TGAA2, we pretty much exclusively see him prosecuting cases in Japan, and official media created by official Japanese creatives primarily shows him living in Japan (eg. the Anime).
And then you have Mei/Franziska. Who, in the original Japanese version, was born, raised and studied law in the USA. (And yes, both the Japanese and Localized version say born, I checked). And she does occasionally refer to herself as Separate and Different from the ‘local’ Japanese characters, there’s this little piece of official art riffing on how much she differs from Larry/Yahari’s idea of an American Woman.
But she also still has a Japanese name (although I’ve seen some speculation that ‘Mei’ was chosen for the character because it’ll be an easy name to Englishize as ‘May’) and is, you know… still the daughter of the guy we exclusively see running around Japan. The only scene they have together in Game-Canon is when Mei is visiting Japan for vacation in ‘Turnabout Reminiscence’. So while the implication is that Mei did spend most of her time growing up in the US, we don't know how much time Gō spent there.
And then the American Localization came along, switched Japan to America and America to Germany and then also added the extra wrinkle of giving Gou Karuma the decidedly German-sounding name ‘Manfred von Karma’. Thereby giving him a much bigger implied connection with the country-where-his-daughter-was-born-and-raised then the original, even though every other piece of textual evidence remained the same. He is STILL only seen prosecuting cases in 'America' and, if you add in the Anime narrative and TGAA2 espacially, the plot really doesn't make sense if you assume he lives for any significant amount of time in Germany.
Sure, with the name and all it's hard to deny that he probably has some relation to Germany, but with how the actual text of the game work it's easier to say he's a German expatriate or just an American of German ancestry, then how the Fandom often depicts him - as a man who lives and work in Germany and only occasionally jumps over to also do some work in Japanifornia.
But.... then there's the whole thing with Franziska/Mei being born and raised in Germarica. And I would like to say something like, ‘well, considering this fact, obviously regardless of version Manfred still did actually do lot of business in both Japanifornia and Germarica and spent a lot of time in both countries. It's really just a matter of us not seeing his Amerigerman cases cause they are all obviously Off-Screen for our manin characters. And while Gou Karuma might come across more as a Japanese man who occasionally also works in the US, the changed implications of the name means that Manfred von Karma is probably meant to be read as a German man who occusionally does work in the US. Because OBVIOUSLY he must have spent many years in Germarica considering his own daughter was born and raised there.’
But I can’t.
Because if there is one character who would watch his wife give birth in whatever country has the best law schools and then fuck off back to his homeland while leaving his baby to fend to herself across the the Pacifitlantic ocean - it would be fucking Manfred von Karma!
#ace attorney#gyakuten saiban#aa#pwaa#phoenix wright#phoenix wright ace attorney#von karma family#manfred von karma#franziska von karma#franziska ace attorney#aa franziska#karuma mei#mei karuma#gou karuma
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[CN] MLQC Lucien’s 2024 Birthday Story - First Snow Wish Translation
⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️
This post contains a detailed spoiler for a story that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~
Lucien’s 2024 CN Birthday Event (Golden Love Ratio)✧ Birthday Story (You’re here!) | Birthday Prologue + Birthday Date | ASMR | Birthday Party
Of course, he would have his parents live there too, reserving the biggest and most beautiful research room for them.
That way, Mom and Dad wouldn't have to go to the laboratory anymore.
When that time came, he would invent a machine that could make things easier for his parents, so they wouldn't have to be so busy and could spend more time with him.
Translation under the cut!
This year’s theme is “childhood dreams,” so the pre-evolve CG depicts the dreams the boys had as children about what they would be like as adults. Along with the usual birthday R&S-style story, there’s also a chibi event story.
The R&S-style story focuses on his birthday as a child (possibly his 5th birthday, since his 6th is already covered in his 3rd birthday R&S). Meanwhile, the chibi event explores the dream he has. As for translating the chibi events... let’s see if I will have time🤧
[Birthday Story - First Snow Wish]
Loveland City has reached late autumn, but the first snow has yet to arrive.
A little boy sat at his desk, leafing through a thick science magazine and occasionally glancing out at the cold weather outside. At this hour, Mom and Dad should be coming home soon.
As if confirming his intuition, he soon heard the sound of the door lock turning downstairs. The boy's eyes lit up instantly as he dashed out of his room, quickly bouncing down the stairs, where he saw his mom and dad at the entrance, taking off their coats. His dad was holding a box of videotapes, while his mom carried a cake box.
"Happy birthday, my precious! Your dad and I brought a movie on videotape. We think you'll really like it! Want to watch it together?" Mom said, smiling as she hung up her coat and took the boy's hand.
"And besides the cake—" Dad winked mysteriously, "I'm going to show off my skills today and cook a feast for you and your mom."
[T/N: His Mom called him 宝贝 (bǎobèi) 🥺 It's not a loanword from the English "baby," but rather a Chinese term of endearment that literally means "treasure" or "precious one." I translate this word as “my precious” to attempt to capture this nuance.]
In the living room, the television hummed softly. Mom carefully adjusted the VCR, making sure the picture was clear. Dad carried the boy to the sofa and meticulously covered him with a blanket.
The videotape started to play, and a snow-covered castle appeared on the screen. The boy sat between his parents, his small hands holding a steaming plate of dumplings, completely absorbed in the story unfolding on the screen.
[Notes from Lux: The dumplings!!!🤧 reminds me of his first CNY SSR when he asked MC to teach him how to make dumplings 🥺]
The inventor in the movie was creating all sorts of wonderful machines in his castle: flying bicycles, talking teapots, and even a machine that could make rainbows. The boy's eyes widened greatly as he watched these bizarre arrays of fantastical inventions.
"Mom and Dad, will your lab be able to make such magical things in the future?”
Dad laughed cheerfully. "The magic of science is that it can make seemingly impossible things possible. Just like the inventor in the movie, we are also pursuing new discoveries."
"But what's even more magical," he added, "is that... son, whatever you like, Mom and Dad will work hard to make it a reality."
The boy raised his eyebrow a bit skeptically, but he didn’t rush to voice the question in his mind. However, his expression was keenly noticed by his mom, and he felt the gentle touch of her hand on his hair.
"My precious, whether it's science or life, the driving force behind everything is the simplest ‘love’."
Before they knew it, snow began to fall over the small town in the movie, as the film was drawing to a close. The boy contentedly looked at his parents, but then from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the fresh snowflakes drifting down outside the window. It was the first snow of the year.
"Let's go out and take a look, we can even build a snowman~" Before the boy could even speak, his mom had already read his mind and gave his dad a meaningful glance.
So Dad immediately got up and found scarves and gloves for the three of them. First, he carefully helped the boy put on his hat and tied his scarf, then he wrapped Mom in her favorite warm-colored scarf. Once the three of them were all bundled up, they excitedly headed out the door.
A thin, delicate layer of white snow had already accumulated in the courtyard, glimmering faintly under the streetlight. The boy couldn’t wait to dash into the yard. He reached out his small hands to catch the falling snowflakes, watching them quietly melt in his palms, and let out a laugh of delighted surprise.
Dad squatted down and started building a small snowman. “Come, let’s give it a big belly together.” The boy and his mom joined in, working together seamlessly: the father took charge of building the main body, the mother shaped and refined it, while the boy was responsible for “dressing up” the snowman.
"We should use these for its eyes!" The boy picked up two small pebbles and solemnly pressed them onto the snowman's face.
"What about the nose?" Mom asked.
"How about a carrot? Just like in the movie."
Dad immediately ran home to get a carrot and also brought out one of his old hats. It seems that as long as it’s something the boy imagines, they’ll do their best to make it come true in real life.
"Hmm... it also needs a lab coat, so it looks like the inventor in the movie." The boy examined the snowman quite seriously, just as he saw his mother, unable to hold back a smile, take off her own scarf and attentively wrap it around the snowman's neck.
As the curtain of night began to descend, snowflakes continued to drift down quietly. The snowman stood alone in the snow, wearing Dad's hat and wrapped in Mom's scarf. The boy thought of the grand castle from the movie and the inventor's lone and busy figure in the laboratory.
A tiny hope suddenly welled up from the bottom of his heart. How wonderful it would be if he could live in a place like that when he grew up, surrounded by fantastic inventions, with snow always visible outside the window. Of course, he would have his parents live there too, reserving the biggest and most beautiful research room for them. That way, Mom and Dad wouldn't have to go to the laboratory anymore.
The boy pondered, his eyes gradually lighting up. When that time came, he would invent a machine that could make things easier for his parents, so they wouldn't have to be so busy and could spend more time with him.
However, if he became a scientist like his parents, he could not only explore more of the unknown in the world, but also become as capable as them and help them solve difficult problems at work.
[Notes from Lux: In other words, becoming an inventor was his ‘selfish’ dream, stemming from his desire to spend more time with his parents. However, he also always wants to follow in his parents' footsteps and be a scientist, that way, he can also help them 🤧]
The bright moonlight illuminated the piling snow in the courtyard, casting a long and slender shadow of the snowman across the ground. The boy looked up at the gently falling snowflakes, feeling they were like powdered sugar sprinkled from the sky.
So he caught some of the "powdered sugar" with his gloves and ran toward his parents. Although he hadn’t yet decided on his dreams, he wanted to keep this feeling in his heart forever.
Because more precious than any dream is this snowy night, his parents' smiles, and the small world that belongs to the three of them.
#PAIN ༼;´༎ຶ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ༎ຶ༽༼;´༎ຶ ༎ຶ༽#'what a happy family of three! surely nothing bad will ever happen to them'#the way his dream is essentially him wishing to spend more time with his parents :“”“#mlqc lucien#mr love queen's choice#mlqc cn#mlqc spoiler#mlqc#mlqc translation#mr. love queen's choice#mr love lucien#mlqc xu mo#mlqc spoilers
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some thoughts on spirits (DAV)
I feel like the game has done a good job making Rook feel like someone with natural leadership abilities. And while I do love the companions in the previous games, I feel like DAV's companions are my favorites (at least currently; entirely possible that a replay of the older games would make me feel different!).
I also really like the different dynamics between Rook and their companions. Just... idk good vibes.
Also, here is Rook being very relatable for me:
I am just really loving all the characters so much -- Lucanis stole my heart as my favorite (he's my 'personal demon' now in the character screen lol) but I'm very attached to all of my companions. I love how the game has made it easier to know when they have something new to say, and I like that they distinguish between 'conversations' and 'outings' in the companion quest section. I've really been enjoying getting to know them and I feel like this game has done a really good job appropriately gating dialogues and areas.
It feels like they found a good compromise between 'open world' and 'mission-based game'. Each of the areas feels really big but it's also gated in natural ways that get unlocked as the story goes on, so you can't bum-rush the Crossroads and do literally everything the first time you're there, for example. In DAI, I would sometimes have to impose my own pacing to make sure that things flowed well for me, and I haven't needed to do that with DAV.
One thing that leaving the Fereldan/Orlais area did is really let us get to know a lot of mages who don't have the same sense of shame and self-hate that mages are taught in the Chantry of southern Thedas (or the even more extreme way they are treated by the Qunari!). We got hints of this approach in earlier games, but getting to dive more in-depth into several cultures who do not have the same "let's toss all the mages into prison" approach to magic that southern Thedas has has been very illuminating! Obviously we've always had exceptions like the Dalish clans, but they were very much depicted as deliberately on the outskirts of society, and going against the Chantry-defined norm.
And to contrast, in DAV, I recently had a long conversation with Emmrich on the potential merits of lichdom! Basically an unthinkable conversation in either Ferelden or Orlais. Nevarra doesn't burn their dead and they don't have such a deep fear of the dead, demons, or magic itself. And it really just to illustrate how much the oppression of mages that was so much at display in the Circles is just... nonexistent in places like Nevarra. The oppression is cultural and it's religious -- it's not actually something that's necessary to 'keep magic in check'. (which, yeah, is obvious from the outside, but always nice to have reinforcement from the actual games!)
I'm also watching a let's play of DAI on the side and the person just got to Solas and Cole's personal quests and, yeah, they resonant so hard after the additional Solas revelations in DAV. And it really does feel so much like DAV is in a strong conversation with DAI (as makes sense). Solas and Varric are talking about Cole but Solas is also talking about himself.
Varric: "A spirit who is strangely like a person!"
Varric: "He came into this world to be a person. Let him be one."
Solas: "We cannot change our nature by wishing it." Varric: "You think?"
Solas: "You would alter the essence of what he is." Varric: "He did that to himself when he left the Fade."
[if Cole is made more spirit]
Varric: "...could have been a person." Solas: "Would that have made him happier?"
Is Solas's endgame becoming a spirit again? Or has he experienced and changed too much? (would it make him happier? is that a desirable goal?) Is it all a matter of perspective? Cole approves of the Inquisitor's choice whether they make him more of a spirit or more human. I feel like Solas would lose a lot of himself if he became a spirit again, but maybe that's a matter of perspective too.
And then Solas's DAI quest is all about dealing with the damage of a Wisdom Spirit being corrupted against its purpose -- the same kind of Spirit that Solas once was. Wisdom vs Pride (but once you're a person and not a spirit, you can be filled with both at the same time).
DAV is really making me want to do another run of DAI, and take Solas literally everywhere, lol. But the conversation about spirits in the 'real' world didn't start there either -- it started back in DAO, with Wynne. It continued in DA2, with Anders. Both DAO and DA2 are more 'standard' than what we get in DAI with Cole, in the sense that they were possessing a body (though with permission) but it's still part of the same conversation.
But the conversation really did explode into something bigger in DAI, with Cole as a spirit who was with us without possessing a body, and with learning that being briefly possessed can reverse Tranquility (via Cassandra's quest). And now, with what had been confirmed in DAV, we know that a spirit that takes mortal form can, over the generations, become mortal, as that's what the ancient elves did, so Cole could have kids who were fully mortal, maybe. And Cole did it without using lyrium (and thus taking something from the Titans to fuel himself) -- at least as far as I understand.
I am also finding myself very curious about where humans come from -- we know that the ancient elves were once spirits; we know that the dwarves are fragments of the Titans. Where did humans come from? Evolution? Or is there a magical answer for them too? Is the Maker a spirit and/or Titan who created humans specifically?
(I think it's implied that Qunari were genetically/magically engineered in some way, and possibly crossbred with dragons somehow?? iirc DAI correctly)
I'm really looking forward to removing my filters on DA-related stuff and reading other people's thoughts. I've covered my eyes and clicked on posts a couple of times so far and have been rewarded by mostly getting fanart and not spoilers, lol. Mostly.
I genuinely have zero critiques of the game so far, if anyone was wondering if I was just holding some back or whatever. I like the quality of life changes they made to a lot of little things like companion banter; I never had an issue with the art style*; and I'm enjoying the story and characters as they unfold.
(*I know that was a big thing with a lot of people but, confession time: I genuinely can barely tell a difference between DAI and DAV's 'art style'. You can change Qunari hairstyles separate from horns now in the character creator? People walk less awkwardly than in DAI? The menus are purple instead of green? idk, maybe my brain just doesn't register whatever it is that makes DAV so different, art-wise?)
I also love that I can literally just throw myself at boxes to break them open to get materials. It's so satisfying. I have a griffon that I can pet. idk, I guess I'm just a simple girl with simple desires. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Looking forward to playing more this weekend!
Current progress note: a Dalish clan (at least one) has been kidnapped for potential blood sacrifices, so trying to rescue them is my next main quest. I'm about eighty hours into the game.
#dragon age#dav#dai#dragon age spoilers#dav spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age inquisition#my meta
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Content Warnings for Original Books
Can we please encourage content warnings for smut and other triggering topics in published literature? This needs to be a thing. Everyone bashes fanfiction for being fanfiction, but I’ve never seen a fanfic where the smut or trigger warnings weren’t tagged to high heaven somewhere in the description or in the opening author’s note.
AO3, compared to FFN, even has a specific “mature” rating just for sex—”E”—that FFN didn’t have. FFN had nervous authors throwing objectively mild content into the “M” rating (e.g. "rated M to be safe"), which meant that if you wanted to read a story that was a little bit violent, you had to turn off your filters as a kid and sift through all the smut just to find that one smut-less, but violent, fic.
When I was a kid in my early FFN days, I was probably exposed to way more stuff I shouldn’t have been reading because I had to disable the mature filter, just so I could read so-called “graphic violence” from pearl-clutching authors. I’d be looking for that one action-adventure fic that happens to have a little murder in it, and sift through fifty pure-smut summaries that ranged from vanilla to straight BDSM—of which had a high chance of being incredibly unhealthy, but you wouldn’t know that at 10, 11, 12 years old.
Fanfic authors, especially when the fanfic platform gives them the freedom to tag, are very clear to let you know just what you’re getting into.
—
I doubt I need to explain what a content warning is on Tumblr, but I will anyway. A content or trigger warning is a heads up at the beginning of a work of media that there are some elements not meant for younger audiences, or for sensitive audiences, or for people who have experienced situations depicted in traumatic ways, or for people who just don’t want to consume media with such content.
In film, this is obvious. If it’s rated R, you generally know what to expect. Generally. Because an R rated film could be R because of anything from profanity to graphic sex/assault and torture scenes. The MPAA rating system is garbage and ‘harsh language’ is not nearly on the same tier as sex in terms of what we should expose our children to.
Before streaming like Amazon as a platform to get around cable censorship rules, you had premium networks like HBO for all your adult content, and then some shows greenlit on smaller networks like AMC—never on ABC, CBS, TNT, etc. HBO wasn’t only for adult stuff, I used to watch Crashbox all the time.
That was the place you went for media that circumvented foul language, violence, and nudity rules in America. It kind of came with its own built-in content warning by virtue of being on those networks, and even then they still give warnings for shows on HBO, Showtime, Starz, etc.
At the start of every episode, you either get a full screen from Starz with the little icons for profanity, nudity, violence, etc, or it would be up at the top around the episode's title. You'd know exactly what you were getting into.
—
In a fanfiction, because I’ve never seen one in an original book, much less for generic vanilla sex scenes, this is what we’re all familiar with:
A/N: Trigger warning! This story contains mentions of rape/non-con. Turn back now, don’t like don’t read.
They also tend to appear at the top of the chapter that contains said scene to double down on the warning, or will, upon completion, include which chapter or chapter section to skip in the work’s summary or opening author’s note. In the old FFN days, there might even be a 4th wall break mid-chapter. Though the terminology we use over the years shifts, we still manage to get the point across.
Like, if I turn off all the filters on AO3 trying to browse for tags and underloved characters that may be lumped in with stuff I’d rather not read, I’ll see tags like “DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,” which was not a thing in FFN days, even if FFN had allowed things like tags.
While it’s easier to tell in movies due to that shitty-but-functional rating system, that’s not really the case with fiction books. With books, I know the genre, and I know the intended audience age group. If I pick up a book in the children’s sci-fi section, I know it’s going to be something about robots or space or the future and our characters are going to be about twelve years old.
If I pick up a YA thriller, I know I’m going to have a cast of sixteen-to-twenty-somethings and there’s going to be some violence, very vanilla cussing or the author’s own slang, and probably some murder.
Adult or new adult romance—Sex. At least one scene guaranteed.
The problem is that unlike films and TV shows, we don’t get a breakdown for books on what to expect and the nature of those scenes. There’s no little ‘R’ sticker on the back cover and there’s certainly no little insert between chapters to let you know what’s coming next. There's no "trailer" I can read to get a sense of your tone.
So if I’m in the mood for a new adult supernatural romance novel and I have to sit through a vanilla sex scene, that’s fine, that’s what I’m reading it for. But if Mr. Badboy is incredibly aggressive and dominating and being an asshole with very dubious consent, that’s different (although, objectively determining what is and isn't 'dubious' is mighty difficult).
Should I still expect that I take my fluffy or angsty romance with a fat grain of salt just in case?
What happens if it’s not a romance novel, but I get a surprise rape scene as my character’s Tragic Backstory? What if it’s an adventure novel? Spy thriller? High fantasy or historical fiction or murder mystery? If there’s no indication in the genre, summary, or by the style of the cover that I’ll have to read about two characters getting it on?
Some people don’t want to read your characters in all the nitty gritty details. They really like everything else about your book, they just don’t want to read a sex scene, and they really don’t want to be super invested, hundreds of pages and even years of series dedication in, and be massively turned off by smut.
It doesn't need to be this big to-do or hyperdetailed like fanfic. In my upcoming book, I had beta readers with personal and moral objections to some of my themes. From then on, I made sure to ask up front so I didn't trigger my betas.
ENNS is about vampires. I haven't settled on what my content warning page might look like or how exactly I want to phrase it, but it might read something like this:
Dear readers, this is a content warning for graphic violence and adult themes. This book contains mentions of assault, self-harm, and suicide. Please be warned that these themes are present and prevalent in this story and readers should take the utmost care for yourselves when approaching this book. Thank you.
Something like this, just a quick, lighthearted heads up for your novel would suffice:
Dear readers, this book ain’t for kiddies! Be prepared for some adult themes and suggestive romance between characters.
I'm definitely not in the camp of pearl-clutching suburban conservatives, but if I'm browsing for a new novel for my tweenage bookworm and I opened up a book with an intriguing summary, and saw that warning? I'd be much happier with the author for their consideration, instead of buying it blind for my kid. You have no idea why someone wouldn't want to read a sex scene. They might be prude, or they might be a survivor just trying to enjoy a new book.
Because romance and sex is taken for granted, most people are at least going to be open to the possibility of sex, but not everyone will be expecting it or wanting it or think it warranted. It’s not spoilery, it’s not revealing some surprise plot twist, it’s a kind and considerate gesture for those members of your audience who just don’t like sex scenes. And heck, maybe they don't want to read it right now, but they'll remember you and pick your book back up later because you tried.
—
TL;DR: I don’t mind smut. When done well.
There’s a reason romance such a compelling story and why it dominates fanfiction and original works leagues ahead of all other plotlines.
But it still needs a content warning, even if you think it’s obvious, or spoilery, or patronizing. Because if I’m not in the mood for it, it just drags and I want to put the book down instead of reading all your hard work to completion.
#writing advice#writing resources#writing tips#writing a book#writing tools#writing#writeblr#I cant even tag this with content warning#ao3#ffn#fanfic
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i think the kids have definately witnessed one of the bots panicking or something
tw: depictions of panic attacks, pstd/trauma, implied drug use/withdrawal (synth-en), slight self harm
especially optimus and ratchet during the orion pax arc or during stronger faster.
specifically, ratchet during orion pax arc, and probably after stronger faster. optimus after orion pax.
hell, even arcee when arachnid shows up, starscreams entire vendetta with megatron, breakdown and MECH, bee and megatron, and im sure theres multiple others.
kicking my feet rn <- loves to torture his favs
when they see arcee, they try to calm her down and reassure her. they know how difficult it would be to face your enemy head on. jack stands near her, its just them now. she's on one knee, and he's rubbing her kneeplate comfortingly. he has one of her servos placed snugly on his chest. jack guides her through getting her vents straightened out. it takes a while, but it's only them now. arcee knows they're safe. they can take as long as they need.
bulkhead is a tricky one, but also a bit easier to handle than the others. miko sees him tapping his digits quickly and erratically on a nearby surface. his eyes are darting around, hes jumpier than usual. the only one who can get him out of this is usually wheeljack. miko finds him, tells him bulk's condition, and off he goes. he places a servo on bulkheads rapid digits, he asks him if he wants to go out for some air. bulkhead is larger than the other bots, but claustrophobic nontheless, especially after being trapped in a cave, the only one able to hold the roof from collasping. so the two go out, bulkhead quickly returns to normal, they stay there for a while, lobbing or talking.
bee starts to rub at the spot where his voicebox once resided. his optics become just a bit dimmer and his doorwings droop. tears start to well up in his eyes. at this point, raf notices, because as bee starts to cry from the stress and memories, his noises that are akin to sniffles and hiccups come through glitchy and garbled. he's holding his helm and crying now. raf tries to comfort him, but isnt sure what to do. hes scared for his guardian and wants to get him help. so raf turns to ratchet, and if not him, then whoever else is around at the time. if its arcee or bulk, they go and get ratchet. if ratchet isnt there, they get optimus.
if its ratchet, he'll gently push his field into bee's with comfort and support. he eventually either moves them both to a quiet area, or everyone has cleared out at this point. ratchet slowly moves his hands up to bee's servos which are gripping at his helm. ratchet makes sure to keep his arms and servos in bees line of sight. he pry's his servos from his head and starts to affectionately stroke the scouts helm. bee eventually gives in and melts into the touch. now ratchet isn't a touchy mech, but when it comes to bee, he lets him sink into his chassis and just hold on to him. he eventually tires himself out, the pain in his throat too much to bare, and slips into recharge. ratchet carries bee into the medbay and lays him on a berth and stays nearby. when bee wakes up, he feels much better. he knows ratchet will never let megatron hurt him like that again.
everyone knows ratchet and optimus are the oldest of the team, but that doesn't mean that they don't have their memories, insecurities and moments. granted they're much rarer than the others, but equally important. the others know that if one of them are panicking, something's really wrong.
it started shortly after ratchet had stopped using synth-en. he was sitting at the console of the base, typing away. he watched as the words appeared on the screen, slowly, they started to turn to gibberish as he started to tap the wrong keys of the keyboard. ratchet looked down to see his servos shaking. his optics widened and his venting hitched. he brought his digits up to his faceplace to inspect them. they continued to tremble in front of him, his venting picking up quickly, before he knew it he was locked in place. he was just standing there, trying to get a hold of his shaking and venting. ratchet looks around sporadically, looking for the only thing that he thinks can ground him in that moment, synth-en. he feels himself spiraling, he feels the want for it, and he knows he needs to stop but he can't bring himself to.
after a few moments, he feels a servo on his shoulder, then that deep voice in his audial, "ratchet."
then all in one moment, everything seems right again. shuddering his vents, ratchet turns around, trying to get air into his system. optimus and ratchet make eye contact briefly, before optimus just smiles slightly, before whispering, "i'm proud of you, you've gone so far from when it first happened. you're better off without it." and then ratchet nods, a few tears rolling down his face, and optimus just lets him stand there for as long as he needs. he knows ratchet doesn't like others seeing him like this, and as a gentle reminder, optimus slides his servo to cup ratchet's cheek before walking off somewhere in the general area. somewhere that ratchet can see him, can hear him, can simply just feel his presence. that calms him down, just, someone being around him. he realizes he doesn't need the synth-en to be helpful to the team, so he starts to pick up on his work again, this time with steadier servos.
optimus, unlike the others, is a different story.
he'd just gotten back from being on the nemesis as orion pax. they had the data of some of the iacon relics, but now came the decoding part. for the next while, optimus would spend his free time decoding whatever he could of the texts. he squinted at the screen in front of him, this all seemed so familiar, but he couldn't put a digit to it. it wasn't until a few moments later that it dawned on him. he'd done this before, aboard the nemesis, for megatron. thats when he stills, his venting picking up from 0 to 100. ratchet is working beside him, and the typing is too loud. the bots are playing with their charges, and he can hear every creak of their armor, every step of the kid's shoes. ratchet looks over as soon as he hears optimus lift his servos off the keyboard, "optimus?" that's when optimus whips his helm around, its all too quiet all of a sudden. he needs out.
optimus can hear his own vents picking up, and he watches ratchet's face turn from concerned to downright worry. optimus crosses his arms over his chassis and quickly walks down the hall. the others just stare in the direction that their commander walked off to. they never see him like this. never not a pillar for them. ratchet takes initiative immediately and tells the others, "don't worry and don't follow me. it'll set him off more, just stay put and keep quiet." the kids and bots stare at him for a moment before nodding and exchanging worried glances before ratchet quickly, and rather quietly, jogged off down the hall to optimus.
ratchet can hear harsh vents behind a closet door as he passes. he stops, and knocks his digits on the large door. "optimus?" the only response he gets is incoherent and glitchy cybertronian. ratchet slowly turns the doorknob, letting the other know that he's coming in. ratchet sticks his helm in, spotting optimus in a corner of the closet, his knees up to his chassis. his faceplate was activated and his servos were gripping and scratching at the metal. ratchet quickly walked into the closet, closing the door softly behind the pair. optimus jumped slightly at the small noise, tears starting to stream down his face. ratchet got down on his knees in front of the prime, whispering in cybertronian to him, "hey, hey, hey... optimus. optimus, can you look at me?" ratchet would take optimus' servos into his and slowly separate them from the faceplace. "optimus, if you want to vent better you need to deactivate the mask." optimus stared at ratchet in horror, his vents picking up a little bit faster. quickly, ratchet held optimus' servos to his own chassis, letting the leader feel his chassis rise and fall as air made it's way in and out of his system. "just shutter your optics, i'm not leaving you. you're okay, just vent." he watched as optimus closed his eyes and started to take control of his systems and vents. after a while, he was breathing normally and his faceplace quietly shuttered back off of his face. ratchet smiled, the two would sit there in silence for a while, just listening to the muffled sounds of the base around them.
the kids know that their bots have hard times and they want to help them. they try in the best ways that they can, but sometimes, their bots need another bot to help them.
#this is incredibly messy again sorry#orion mumbles#tw panic attack#tw ptsd#tw self destructive behavior#tw drugs#macaddam#tfp#transformers prime#tfp optimus prime#tfp ratchet#tfp arcee#tfp bulkhead#tfp bumblebee#miko nadakai#jack darby#raf esquivel#tf headcanons#optiratch
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Celebrimbor's Insanity
!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!
While I am enjoying Season 2 of Rings of Power, I do have some issues with certain elements of the show. Some of these problems come from the compressed timeline and the pacing of the series (which, curiously enough, seems both too rushed and too slow). I also understand the point of many of the creative decisions which were instrumented, even if I do not agree with them.
One of my problems is with Celebrimbor's insanity. This storyline is well executed, and quite disturbing to watch. Celebrimbor's growing suspicions that not all is as it seems adds suspense to the story, and his discovery that he is living in a dream world comes about in quite a clever way. Unfortunately, I am not sure if this storyline quite fits in with the world that Tolkien created.
Observing Celebrimbor's peculiar behavior, the other elves believe that their lord has gone insane from too many hours at the forge. However, in all of my readings of Tolkien's writings, I do not believe I have ever seen a description of an insane elf. Yes, they go fey from time to time, but that is a temporary state. I'm not even sure if the elves, as Tolkien wrote them, are capable of suffering from cognitive decline or becoming detached from reality, because they are so much a part of the fabric of Arda. If anything, I think that they would suffer from too much clarity.
Now, I do believe that elves could fall prey to the phantoms and illusions of dark forces. Consider Nan Dungortheb, where it was said that horror and madness befell unlucky travelers. However, this would not be a natural state, but the consequence of evil magic.
I do not necessarily disagree with the concept of a bewitched Celebrimbor who cannot tell the difference between reality and delusion. However, from a Tolkien standpoint, I do not feel that the elves of Eregion would assume that their lord had gone insane. To me, coming to such a conclusion feels like something that humans, not elves, would do. I feel that the elves would very quickly realize that Celebrimbor was under some sort of a spell, and try to determine who had done this to him.
Instead of claiming that Celebrimbor had gone insane, it might have been a better idea to have Sauron tell the elves that their lord had endured a magical injury which had affected his mental acuity. He could then press them to keep on working in an attempt to save their lord.
Now, the behavior of the elves of Eregion could be explained by claiming that Sauron had put the entire city under his spell, but I'm not sure if Sauron actually has that degree of power. If he did, it would have made Morgoth's conquests of the First Age so much easier - just have Sauron wear a disguise, sneak into every elf stronghold, and use his magic to turn them all into gibbering idiots. Obviously, Morgoth did not use that strategy for a reason.
I never got the idea that Sauron used any magical deceptions to win over the elves of Eregion. He merely told them what they wanted to hear. I think Sauron's power to influence the masses is more subtle, more like a charismatic politician or religious leader, but this power of influence is much greater due to his divine nature and the aura of power which surrounds him.
While I realize that the insanity plot device was utilized for efficiency due to the compressed storyline, I think it does touch on a characterization issue which other fans have criticized. The Rings of Power elves do not seem to possess the innate magical nature of Tolkien's elves, and therefore they seem much weaker in comparison. Tolkien's depictions of magic and magical beings are often difficult to understand, for magic in Middle-earth is both subtle and ubiquitous. These concepts are difficult for many fans to grasp - much less depict upon a screen.
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The Election - FAQ
You're Canadian; why do you care so much?
We have a saying, up here: The USA get a cold and Canada sneezes. In more straightforward terms, what affects you is, in some other shape or form, going to affect us as well. Our antivax waves were spurred on by American campaigns, our last two elections were marked by the presence of fringe Manosphere and generally misogynist groups that claimed to speak for "family values", and our own Right-wing politicians are only just starting to realize that when filibusters and name-calling in Parliament fail, landing direct threats on an Instagram post works just as well. We have the same bigots, the same zealots and the same Christofascists as you do - they're just slightly less organized by virtue of Canada being a less polarized society than America. Our big points of division are mostly linguistic, with a second one consisting of the Prairies' redistributed wealth, thanks to their rich petroleum industries.
So... Canada is basically America Lite, then?
Yes, absolutely. We're less polarized, but we have the same problems, and we tend to think of America as being Canada's shadow - i.e. what Canada could be if it had more of an Interventionist policy and were less Progressive than it already is. We share a lot of the same problems, however, such as the long-delayed restitution efforts towards Native populations, and the myriad scandals involving the abuse forced on Native kids to "christianize" them, in generations past.
We're the same as you, just - a little less bossy. We're America's quieter, shyer cousin, and we've got a ton of skeletons in our closet. So, considering, when something goes wrong in Uncle Sam's yard, we can expect a few bones to pop up in our turf, too.
Okay, so... What? You'll get nicer versions of Trump?
Something like that. We have a developed anti-trans and anti-woke contingent, but it's mostly limited to the Prairies. Head for the Maritimes, and you enter areas of the country that are staunchly liberal in structure (e.g. Quebec). The local Conservatives' bugaboos tend to be fiscal, which is a little bit more tolerable than attacks based on a person's lifestyle, but we do have our own brewing and growing basin of anti-DEI sentiment, as well as misogynist types aplenty. If you've followed the news, then you probably know that Canada and India are at odds on a few key questions, which has fostered resentment between groups outside of the Indian diaspora, and Indians themselves. As you'd expect, even groups that aren't related but that get tossed in by ignorant locals, like the Sikh, also needlessly get a bad rep.
For the most part, our "Trump" is gearing up to be Pierre Poilievre, a Calgary native who's mostly been campaigning on his, well, not being Justin Trudeau. He mostly promises to redress the Federal budget, cut taxes - and to catch up on the lack of windfall by slashing into Liberal and NPD-backed programs that tended to veer towards more Progressive views. Doubling import taxes are seen as a win, while dental credits helping younger families cover basic oral care were seen as driving inflation up - and slashed. They've audited the ArriveCAN program, which is designed to make re-entry into the country by those born here a tad easier, by driving part of the passport-screening process digitally. A few weeks into the audit, everyone knew they were doing this to stall the program and to effectively mess with the current Liberal cabinet. Poilievre's also used an ad block paid for to promote a home-building bill in order to depict Justin and his father, Pierre-Elliott Trudeau, as Marxists.
If you know anything about Canadian history, you know Social Democracy has nothing to do with Marxism. He's also voted against an aid package destined for Ukraine, citing that Kyiv's downtrodden would be somehow forced to pay for our newfangled Carbon Tax, if Zelenskyy received the shipment.
I could go on, but you get the gist of it. He's not at Trump's level of sheer rhetorical abhorrence, but he gets there, so to speak. And with Trump in the White House and Trudeau losing support and being rocked by a non-confidence motion, of late, this little shit's in the best possible position to pounce.
Trump's strategy for tariffs is likely to hurt the loonie, which will drive inflation up in Canada. I wouldn't be surprised if Poilievre brought it up as a failure of Justin Trudeau's government, and made it a leading campaign point. It's not the other guy's blithe disregard for the law, but it's arrogant sophistry, nevertheless.
It's not that far off, in my book. Trump is going to love Poilievre, as he'll have good synergy well with him, while also being just that smidge more likeable. He'll be a great way for the Trump brand to make in-roads in the Great White North, for his brand of discontent to brew in my back yard - and then spill back into yours.
It's not just one guy, though, right?
Of course not. You might've heard about the Freedom Convoy, a group of truckers that held antivax beliefs and who wanted the government to life health guidelines and restrictions earlier, in the later days of the pandemic. Poilievre is the nice, pretty, polite and regimented spokesperson for every free-wheelin' uncle who wants to keep guzzling diesel like it's water while never having received a single jab since before Woodstock - and they've got their meaner, nastier mouthpieces. The more abusive shitheads were quiet during the Biden administration, for the most part, but they ran rampant during Trump's last presidency. Think every juiced-up man-child that thinks pronouns are the world's greatest evil, for instance; the exact type that lobs death threats on a Facebook Live and then hides behind social commentary.
We'll see more of those, guaranteed. All we need is one guy with a shred of political acumen in the lot, and the fuse is lit. It's lit before - one of our more notorious Union locals was publicly known as the "back-breaking" type... Power to the people, as long as that power means keeping Trans people in their AMAB and AFAB bathrooms...
None of that is a serious, structural threat to democracy as we know it, but erosion should be as much a concern as any intent to blow base charges off of the structural pillars, as it were.
So, you'll be okay?
Sort of, excerpt how for every move Trump and his cronies will attempt, someone's going to be over my shoulder, obsessively taking notes. And I do not like where this leads.
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