#but when it was good it was GOOD. it was for real cooking.

[satorena]

HOTLINE BL☆NG!

summ. wine nights and free will? a recipe for disaster— such as matching your ex on a corny dating app and having him in your bed within that same hour. . .

cw. eventual smut. 18+. fem!reader. alcohol/substance consumption. ex boyfriend!gojo. mild toxicity. breakup & makeup. girlhood ft jjk girlies. unreliable narrator sorta. sukuna slander. mild impact play. mild asphyxiation. oral (f). fíngering. backshōts. reader is a little questionable. self sabotaging my beloved. lowkey angsty. @/3aem on tumblr for art creds. most of these stories are real shit i’ve heard/experienced LOL. can you tell i’ve never used tinder a day in my life? 16.4k words. . oops.

rena’s note. @yung-notorious and her filthy mind. . .

“you like it when i fuck you like this? yeah you do.”

god, you do.

you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that had you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.

his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.

“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”

how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?

friday nights were meant to decompose after a long week. a cute tradition you followed— sipping on moscato wine and munching on takeout with your homegirls while the lamest horror movie played as background noise. the skincare bit happened every third friday of the month, which fell on this particular night, thin layers of korean products lathering at your skins while fluffy headbands sat atop your hairlines, keeping stray hairs away.

it was an easy way of recapping all of your week’s worth of bullshit and listing each girl’s new lineup of men of the season.

girlhood.

“i’m cool off men for a whileee,” you sigh, placing your third wine glass on the coffee table. you tuck your legs back onto the couch, propping your head into your palm. you watch as shoko, who’s seated on the floor, grabs your glass and fills it with another unsolicited round. you narrow your eyes at her, “after the shit kuna pulled— girl, slow down!”

“don’t watch me,” shoko chews at her unlit blunt tucked in her teeth, lifting an arm above her head to pass you your refill. despite the slight spin of the room, you accept the cup against better judgment, “keep talking. what the fuck did he do now?”

“you mean what didn’t he do,” seated in the pink bean bag rested on the floor, utahime quips. in between her teeth sits a wooden stick, drizzled in the honey-like wax residue she smeared over her shin. “i woulda left his ass the second i found out he— FUCK— lived with his mama at his big age.”

as utahime soothes her smoothened skin, yuki leans over the coffee table to grab at the blunt passed over to her. “y/n baby, you know i love you,” she starts off, taking a deep inhale before ghosting the smoke. you can tell she’s about the cook the shit out of you, “but come on— he lives in his parents’ basement. was that not a red flag in itself? is that seriously the kind of man you see yourself marrying.”

“nevermind the fact he’s pushing thirty and still unemployed,” shoko throws in her two cents, takeout back in her lap as she breaks open a new set of chopsticks, “he’s one more ‘tap in’ away from getting caught by the feds.”

“how much y’all wanna bet he’s at the club right now as we speak?” it’s a rhetorical question, but utahime pauses her waxing to check. with sticky fingers, she taps away at her phone, and with a knowing smile she yelps, tilting her screen towards you three, “aha!— and there goes the infamous money spread.”

“cornballllll.” shoko cringes.

you’re filled with dread and shame at the sight presented. god— every single chance you gave this man, he spun around and somehow does worse. it’s not like the two of you were together— never officially, but the sole fact that you’ve let this man treat you as if you were his girl haunts you. you’ve let countless of bullshit slide all because his stroke game came second within all the men you’ve dealt with.

the only thing you’ll give him besides a being a good lay is that you’ve never had issues concerning other women. he’s a very transparent guy— you’ve yet to receive a “hey girlie. . .” text from anybody. though, it isn’t like either of you have ever dropped any hard launches. it was mostly content that only close friends could catch onto— the interior design of his car, your latest set of nails, subtle shots of his tattoos, your purses and jewelry. nothing evident but pretty obvious to those who know.

if sukuna was still cool with him, however. . . yeah, he’d definitely know, considering the fact he purchased most of the purses you own. that’s excluding the fact your favorite necklace, the one with your name engraved, the one you always wear, was also bought by him.

“move,” you push utahime’s hand away from your peripheral, slumping further into the couch. embarrassment floods you yet again, and you drown it away with more wine. much to your chagrin, they spare no mercy as they giggle at your pout, “not too much on me— shoko, you’re literally the one who put me on!”

“don’t do that,” she rolls her eyes, picking at the orange chicken on her platter. you have half a mind at chucking your drink at her. “all i told you was to fuck him. nobody said anything about keeping him around.”

“instructions: unclear,” utahime giggles, smearing another coat of wax mixture onto her calves. “she’s now a year deep into a situationship with a man who files for disability checks to blow on parlays.”

you spring up in your seat, your wine nearly spilling on shoko in your excitement, “shit, i never told you guys!”

“told us what?” yuki kills the blunt in the ash tray, and stretches an arm to grab at her food. she knocks over a few emptied bottles as they roll on the carpet, and winces when one of them knock at shoko’s knee, “my fault girl.”

shoko clicks her tongue, but you loop your arms around her neck as you proceed, “before you bitches attacked me for literally just being a girl,” you decide ignore the way they all groan, “i was trying to tell you all why i finally ended shit with him.”

“well don’t hold back now!” utahime eggs on.

“guess what i found out,” you set the empty wine glass back onto the table. you’re most likely gonna need your hands in this specific conversation, “he bet thirty thousand dollars on the super bowl game— and lost.”

the room falls quiet. utahime pauses in her ripping, yuki drops her noodles from her chopsticks and shoko nearly chokes on her wine. amidst it all, three pairs of eyes slowly crawl to meet your gaze, in complete disbelief at what you’d told them.

“are you deadass?” shoko speaks first, her facial expression almost incredulous. her eyes are teary from her food slipping through the wrong tube. “you’re playing, right? right?”

“she has to be. . . this is a new level of low even for him.” yuki shakes her head, most likely in attempts to give him the benefit of the doubt. you don’t blame her— no sane person would drop thirty grand on a fucking betting app of all things— and on top of that, lose.

“i wish i was?!” you groan, still upset, “the worst part is that he told me that money was supposed to be deposit money for a condo he’d been,” you raise your fingers in air quotes, “looking into.”

“you know what though? this doesn’t actually surprise me,” utahime laughs, as if she hadn’t been in a daze for a solid minute. she rips at the strip, and winces, “didn’t i just say he was getting checks to place on parlays? frank gallagher looking ass.”

“but thirty thousand?” yuki emphasizes, blinking rapidly in her disbelief, “what the fuck would possess somebody to bet thirty grand on anything?”

“grown ass man, by the way.” shoko mumbles mindlessly, before chowing down some more food. you can’t find it in yourself to disagree.

utahime nods, blowing a puff of air, “on god, bro. don’t he got mortgages to pay off or some shit?”

yuki shoots her a deadpanned look, “girl, with what house.”

and that had been your final straw with him. not the fact he lived in his mother’s basement despite clearly having money to rent out a place, or the fact he was still flexing bands he allegedly has on the gram— but blowing all your money on a fucking football game. and losing. you do respect yourself, as much as these girls believe you don’t. a man with no ambitions and no money? you need to run and far.

“i’ll miss his dick though.” you pout, the alcohol already coursing through your body. being wine drunk always made you horny, that was a known fact, and letting go of one of your greatest eaters was not on your bingo card. naturally, the girls roll their eyes at your antics, “boo me all you want— he horsed me the fuck around in bed.”

“you used to say the same shit about gojo,” utahime points out, rising to her feet as she grabs the used strips in her hold, before circling around the couch, “and look how that ended up.”

technically. . . she wasn’t exactly wrong but that still stung a bit. “hime, seriously?” shoko rolls her eyes, and you feel her hand rubbing at your foot soothingly. her motions are a little stiff but you appreciate the sentiment, “we get you don’t fuck with him but he was still her man. and basically my friend, kinda.”

you hear her wince in the kitchen, followed by footsteps, “right. . . sorry girlie.” she runs back to you after throwing the waste away, and kisses at your temple. she doesn’t comment on the pout on your lips. “i didn’t mean it. . . okay maybe i did, but i’m still sorry!”

your history with gojo was complicated. you’d met him through shoko in your third year of college, at a kickback party hosted by his people. it’d been an invite only thing, but shoko had brought you along as a plus one, and you both instantly connected. as far as you were concerned, it was technically supposed to be a sneaky link vibe, but you soon learned gojo was anything but sneaky. in fact, he was so vocal in him wanting you, that he actually did end up getting you a couple months later.

he’s a year older than you, therefore he’d graduated a year ahead. the separation in itself was something you hadn’t looked forward to at all, but he had found himself a condo downtown, not too far from your residency, therefore seeing each other hadn’t been an issue. he always made it clear he wanted to see you— even after gruelling nine to five shifts in the office. his words matched his actions, driving you up to his place since yours had a stupid curfew policy for visitors.

(you’ve kept him in your dorm numerous times.) (your closet has suffered enough with his lanky ass.)

the first year worked out for the better. he was still welcomed to the parties you invited him to, he made time in his schedule help you with your studies, planned consist dates and even took you out on trips. he was physically, mentally and emotionally present— and you genuinely believed he would be your forever man when you’d introduced him to your parents at your graduation ceremony and he seemed thrilled. they adored him— and that says a lot considering they hated all your other exes. with good reason, but still.

it’d been the honeymoon phase until it wasn’t.

you expected arguments. those are inevitable in relationships, but with every argument he grew distant. you were now both graduated students juggling between jobs, rent and a relationship. it was a lot— your schedules never seemed to align which jumbled into multiple failed dates, which further escalated into more arguments. it hadn’t always been him, you could agree you were at fault too. that post graduation depression spiralled worst than you’d anticipated— the fear of falling behind when your boyfriend had already been successful so early into his career entirely consuming.

he reassured you plenty, but you could see it in his face as he spoke to you— he was exhausted. of work. of life. of you. he had bigger fish to fry than dealing with a workaholic girlfriend with low self esteem. the bigger the promotion, the less your value. you’d seen this play out before— it was less i love you’s and more hours in the office. less dinner dates and more project plannings.

the more time you spent by yourself, the more your mind began overthinking. you had no place in his life anymore. you didn’t resent him for it— you wish nothing but the best for him. he deserves to be successful in life, and he’s already so close to it. your slacking behind is nothing more than dead weight in his rise to the top.

the breakup had been anticipated. you’d broken up with him first. he never asked you to explain why. he nodded, never uttering a word. it’d been the first time you’d seen him in weeks. you kept it simple, “we should break up.” and he kept it even simpler, a curt bounce of the head in agreement. as quick as he’d entered your apartment, he left.

and that’d honestly been it. you’d been together for four years, and broken up for a year and a half. after all this time, you still don’t resent him for it. he made the rational choice in prioritizing himself and his future, and you simply didn’t fit in it. it took you quite some time to work on yourself as well, and you’re honestly satisfied with where you are in life. the breakup clearly worked in favour for you both.

it sucks that he was genuinely the only man you ever cared about. the only man you can confidently say you loved.

“look— now you got her thinking about him!” shoko complains, chucking the nearest thing— a throw pillow, at utahime. it hits her square in the face, to which she lets out a muffled oof! “way to fucking go.”

you blink out of your thoughts. well that’s embarrassing, you got caught up in the past again. you lift yourself from the slumping position you’d unintentionally fallen into the midst of daydreaming, “shit, my bad. got flashbacks to that time he ate me off the bone after his first promotion.”

“yo, what?!” yuki hollers, falling into a fit of laughter. shoko rolls her eyes so much you’re thinking it’ll get stuck at the back of her skull and utahime physically cringed from head to toe. “so fucking unserious— here we are, worried about your ass and here you go, upset you lost your best eater.”

not exactly, though there was some truth to her words. gojo was your best eater, and nobody’s topped him since. he really did tongue fuck you that night like you were the boss who raised his pay. but it wasn’t just the sex you missed— you wholeheartedly missed him. the closest thing to a soul bond you’ve experienced, now gone.

they don’t need to know all that though.

“oh come on,” utahime groans, picking at her nails. trust her to find any reason to slander your ex. for what reason? she’s never told you other than him annoying the fuck out of her, “he could not have been that great. it can’t be anything you can’t find elsewhere— plenty of men eat pussy.”

“okay but do they enjoy eating it or is it more of a duty thing?” yuki points out, rolling her thumb on her lighter mindlessly. she watches the flame arise, casting a soft glow on the sheet stuck to her face, “because you can definitely tell the difference. one eats for foreplay, the other eats for his own pleasure.”

shoko hums in agreement, still poking at her plate, “a man versus a munch,” and with a beat of silence, she takes a deep sigh, throwing her head back, “i should call him.”

“no! no you should not,” utahime laughs, before shooting you a glance. your smile quickly falters and is switched with a look of confusion as she points a nail filer in your direction, “and you,” you cock a brow, “stop thinking about him. we’re supposed to be independent women, y’all need to stand the fuck up.”

“hime, please, you were literally just complaining to your close friends about your latest dry spell.”

“irrelevant!” she dismisses yuki, waving a hand absentmindedly. you don’t see how it’s irrelevant exactly, but you let her proceed. “we are sexy, successful and strong women. stop relying on the past and focus on the future. there are bitches that fought for their lives for the freedom we have! you could literally get dick anywhere— they actually have apps for it, if you didn’t know—”

“so tell us, o’mighty one,” shoko cuts her off, “are you suggesting we download tinder to relieve our stress?”

she remains quiet, and you can see the gears churning in her head. you’re about ninety nine percent positive shoko was fucking around, but the scrunch in your friend’s eyebrows tells you she’s seriously contemplating the idea, “. . yes actually.” she finally decides.

“hime. . .” shoko groans, but is effectively cut off when she springs up to her knees to grab at her phone.

“no, seriously, think about it!” she scrolls through her phone like a maniac, searching through the app store and typing the name in. you all watch her incredulously, her enthusiasm in the matter as if she hadn’t been preaching about feminism half a minute ago, “i’ve met some of my best lays in college through tinder. i haven’t been on this app in years though.”

you don’t see why not. you were pretty tipsy and would never have agreed to this under typical conditions, however it could be regarded as a bonding activity. you also haven’t been on tinder since before your last relationship, and the shit sukuna put you through this past year was enough to make you want to deal with literally anything else.

“i’m down.” you pull out your phone, and shoko may have gotten whiplash with how quick she snaps her head back to eye you. you shrug your shoulders, “we don’t have to take this shit seriously— god knows i’m not entertaining anybody on this app for real.”

“exactly!” utahime nods, walking up to scoot herself beside you. she nudges at shoko with her foot, who flicks at her toes to keep her away, “it’s just for shits and giggles.”

“i’m definitely not doing this shit,” yuki crawls to sit at the couch’s feet, right at shoko’s side, and grabs at the remote sitting uselessly on the table, “but i will be watching you both embarrass yourselves.”

“the only other bitch with common sense here.” shoko sprawls her legs onto yuki’s lap. she receives a slap at the back of her head by utahime, and naturally she slaps the hand right back. “can’t stand that little fucker sometimes.”

“aweee, love you too!” she blows a kiss at her to which she receives a middle finger. you snort, eyes glued on your screen as you redownload that forsaken app back into your phone.

you’d probably regret it in the morning, but that was something saturday you would have to deal with. as of right now, with white wine in your system, logic was not an option. you were learning to live more in the moment, and apparently that starts with the corniest dating app in the world.

it’s not like you’d magically stumble upon your ex on the platform. now wouldn’t that be something? ha!

there’s no fucking way.

this had to be one big, fat cosmic joke. a cruel prank, even. and if it was, then the universe had a twisted sense of humour. you still don’t believe it— were the girls in on this? this kind of shit didn’t just happen to anybody.

it took about a total of twenty minutes between logging back into your old account, updating your password and bio, and swiping left on passing profiles until you landed on it. on. . . him.

you blink slowly. your phone is shaky beneath your unstable hands, and you’re pretty sure you’ve been holding your breath in far longer than recommended for the average human. it’s quiet as fuck in the room— despite the three girls huddled over your shoulders, sticking their noses in all directions to get a clearer view of your illuminating screen— almost as if to confirm if what they were seeing was truly was they were seeing, as if this was all too fucking ironic to be true.

there’s a knot of anxiousness that simmers in the pits of your stomach. you’re pretentiously aware that even the slightest movement— one wrong click or swipe, would ultimately change everything. there was too much at risk here. “oh there’s no fucking way. . .” shoko speaks up first.

utahime leans in impossibly closer, a few centimetres away from fully emerging with your iphone as her nose scrunches, “way too sexy? fuck around and find out? god, he’s still so corny, i swear.”

your eyes trail over his biography, curiously. that “way2sexy” had been an inside joke you both shared years ago— back when drake had dropped one of gojo’s favourite albums, certified loverboy. he overplayed the shit out of that song when it came out, so much that you received multiple complaints from your RA for “public disturbance”, but he swore it worked as daily affirmations for him in the same sense crystals and tarot cards worked for spiritual girlies. you called him corny for it, but before you knew it, it’d shown up in your spotify wrapped the following year.

rapid memories of morning rays of light peeking through blinds, a groggy yet mysteriously clear “alexa, play way 2 sexy” as you fixed your sheets and lit your candles, fighting over who gets to spit toothpaste residue first, hearty laughter to fumbled lyrics, shared minty kisses paired with one “gimme one more” too many.

the ache clenching at your heart is hard to ignore.

“i would give him the benefit of the doubt in believing he hasn’t updated his account,” yuki draws out, eyes narrowing as a finger sticks out to point, “but his age matches. emoticons as a grown man. . . no shade though.”

his age did match. inside joke aside, none of it was adding up. if he already had his account set up years ago, had he willingly changed his bio to one of your most infamous gags after the breakup? if you were to swipe right right now, would it instantly match? you don’t think you want to figure it out— both possible outcomes scaring you shitless.

“should i swipe left?” you speak uncharacteristically softly, torn between the idea of tucking your tail inwards and running away from the opportunity or your typical it is what it is mentality.

“yes! obviously— mmmph?!”

“do you want to?” shoko, with a pillow stuffing an agitated utahime in the face, counters. between all the girls, she seemed to understand you the most, granted her own relationship with the man. you’re sure he had given her his own version of their breakup, how you’d opened the doors to endless opportunities for him, had given him the easy way out. you never bothered asking her, afraid of the illusion you’d created to shield yourself shattering, “only you have the answer to that.”

“i honestly don’t know,” you sigh, joints in your thumb aching from hovering over your screen for too long. swiping left meant completely abandoning any the possibility of the two of you as one. you don’t want that responsibility weighted on your shoulders again, “what if he’s moved on? the shit that’ll do to my ego if i swipe right and he passes on me?”

shoko finally grants her friend the permission of speech, freeing her off the couch decoration, though the look she gives her serves as a warning to tread lightly. with a heavy breath, utahime releases a puff, “i’d crashout, just sayin’.”

“but what if he hasn’t moved on?” yuki poses, and apparently that was all the confirmation you needed to swipe. fuck pride— pride wasn’t going to get your back blown out. pride wasn’t going to help you get the love of your life back. pride can go fuck itself.

“wait—”

utahime is cut off again, however, not by shoko but tinder itself. the notification pings loudly, resonating in depths of your ear cavity and shoots straight to your chest. you can feel your heart pounding wildly against your rib cage. it’s so silent you can hear a pin drop, and the way your gut churns gives away the end result to your spontaneity.

it’s a match.

“well. . . shit.” shoko slumps back into the couch nonchalantly, and you don’t need to see her to know she’s sporting a smirk. you do feel her knee knock into yours. fake ass idgafer.

you’re no better, biting down your bottom in order to suppress the smile itching to spread. a year later and the sole idea that he’d already came across the same mindset as you, willing to give whatever it was that needed a second shot, had you beyond delusional. god, you need help.

“look at youuu, cheesin’ and shit!” yuki pokes at your cheek and you swat her hand away, ultimately caving into the smile. fuck yeah you were geeked— it’s hard carrying a nonchalant attitude when you were an honest to god, soft hearted lovergirl. if you played your cards right, with a few lash bats and glossy lips, you’d be getting dicked down in no time.

“i’m gonna be sick.” utahime deadpans.

“and i’m getting dickkk,” you sing, jumping to your feet as you stood on the couch. you turn around, hands clutching onto the headrest, giving your ass a cute shake as it rotates in circular motions. you feel shoko’s hand tapping it encouragingly, her phone illuminating as it records while she rests her head on your moving thighs. you hear yuki cackle, pulling out her phone to film as well. you giggle, “rip that pussy!”

“ayeeee!” they complete the lyrics, and the vibes are restored yet again, girly giggles filling the room. when your legs begin to feel wobbly, you stop your twerking to plop yourself right back down, leaning your head onto shoko’s shoulder.

you hear her click her tongue as the recording of your ass graces her screen, and she groans, “gojo is one lucky bastard— he can’t handle all that.”

he most definitely can, and has. you’ll opt with shrugging in the meantime.

“with that being said,” utahime jumps in, crossing her legs, “what’s the next move here? you reaching out first?”

your lips straighten as your mind reflects. if you still know him as well as you think you do, he’s definitely going to text you first as soon as he sees the green light. sure, you were anxious for a reply, desperate to check what his temperature was— but you’d already sacrificed a grand amount of dignity just swiping right. he could do take on the role of texting first.

“nah, i’m almost a hundred percent sure he’ll—”

ping!

you all whip your heads to the source of the sound. your phone. the screen shines as it undergoes facial recognition, and exposes the messenger. from tinder. gojo. sending you a message. just as you’d expected.

you can’t help the cocky smile, eyes trailing at their perplexed faces, “—text me first.”

naturally, the girls are impressed. even you are— that timing? would it be insane to genuinely be considering gojo might honest to god be your soulmate? yuki blows a puff of air, followed by a laugh, “your pussy has to be magical cause what the fuck?”

“ladies and gentlemen,” utahime stands to her feet, fisting her hand into an imaginary microphone, and addresses her fake crowd. in the hostiest voice she can muster, she curtsies as she continues in comedic fashion, “miss pussy fairy in thee flesh.”

“put a stamp on it.” shoko shakes her head in acknowledgment, laying her own phone in her lap as she claps. yuki places two fingers in her mouth and whistles at you, to which you rise to your own feet and dramatically place a hand over your chest in faux humility.

“oh please!” you flatter yourself, tucking your hair behind your ear. you smile behind your palm, your improv classes in high school coming in clutch, “this is too much— thank you! thank you deeply.”

“girl, byeee,” utahime breaks character first, giggling as she sits back onto the abandoned bean bag. you mimic her motions, as she pops open a stray water bottle and swallows a big gulp, “open his text! i wanna see what he said!”

you’re in the same boat, thumbing at your phone to unlock it and open the app. naturally the girls hover over you yet again, just as eager to see how he finally broke the no contact phase. it took him less than three minutes to slide in your messages, as the option had finally been granted.

right as your thumb hovers the message, a hum draws out your throat, “how much y’all wanna bet it’s something corny?” you tease, something close to a hunch giving it away. seeing as your assumptions were deemed accurate just a few minutes ago, the only way he’d think of clearing the ice would be with something plausibly lame.

“open itttt!” utahime ushers you, hands clamping at your shoulders. you roll your eyes, letting her dramatics sway your body back and forth before she lets up. you let out a sigh, and open the unanswered message.

and just as you’d predicted. . .

@gsatoru: they say shooters shoot 👀

“oh brotherrrr,” the girls groan in sync, and even you can’t stop the cringe that stiffens your face. if there’s one thing that hasn’t changed, it’s the fact he still doesn’t act his age. he needs to let those college days go.

“now, what’d i tell y’all.” you tut, leaving out the part of nostalgia simmering deep and warmly in your bones at his predictability. ever the goofy he was, gojo satoru. jeez.

“i was really found myself rooting for him too,” shoko sighs, rising to her feet. she dusts at her lap then stretches her limbs lazily, “i’m gonna go pee— hime, i swear to god, don’t take my seat.” she doesn’t look back to flip her off when she hears utahime blow raspberries her way. to which, against shoko’s wishes, leaps over to snatch her seat.

both you and yuki give her a deadpanned look, but yuki voices out your thoughts, “she’s gonna get on your ass and i’m not helping you out.”

“girl, boo.” utahime rolls her eyes, “more importantly, what the fuck do you answer to that?” her nail taps at your phone screen, peering at you expectantly through lashes.

you consider your options. do you reciprocate the same energy or do you call him out on his corniness? matching his vibe would be like starting off a blank slate— a new start, new conversations, something almost superficial. like a fling you meet at the bars for one night of fuckery that you regret the next morning. but calling him out would induce in falling into familiar patterns— calling him a cornball while he attempts to sweet talk you, old conversations brought up, risking broken boundaries for the sake of reminiscing.

decisions, decisions, decisions.

“i’m thinking taking the easy way out.” you nod your head, readying your fingers as you type your response out.

you miss the exchanged glances between utahime and yuki, too busy trying to format how to come off playful but not forgetful. flirty but not desperate. come pull up on me but demurely. well you’ll be damned— in what world had you ever expected second guessing yourself for gojo?

“what’s the easy way out?” yuki asks, and you hit send. where this confidence comes from is beyond you, but any error you make you can blame on the wine (you’re hardly fazed but it’s nice to have something to pin the blame on instead of yourself) (old habits die hard).

you tilt your phone, holding it out as you watch the girls’ brows furrow, eyes scanning over the screen. when their faces contort into a look of amusement mixed with horror, a girly giggle escapes your throat.

@yourstrulyname: sukuna ryomen wsp with you?? 🙈

“you didn’t!” utahime hollers, her laughter so intense she doubled over to clutch at her stomach. yuki sways her body back and forth as she finds herself in a hysterical fit as well. “goddd, i would kill to see the look on his face right now.”

“yooo, that’s evil.” the blonde swipes at a tear. “woulda had me deactivating the whole account.”

“who’s deactivating?” shoko pops back in, not without slapping utahime upside the head. she ignores the way utahime complains in favour to swipe a nearly emptied bottle to pour.

“it’s not even that bad,” you defend yourself, flashing her your screen as she installs herself in the bean bag utahime once occupied. her eyes squint as she reads the conversation, nearly bulging out their sockets when she catches your message, “nahhh, don’t give me that!”

“if he gives you the time of day after that,” shoko swirls the wine in her glass, snorting, “he must really still be in love with you.”

“he should know i’m playing. . .” you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince the girls, him or yourself. you really were just joking around— albeit a terrible joke, but one regardless! sukuna was officially removed from the roster, a financially irresponsible man never standing a chance against you, “right?”

“don’t ask us?” utahime chimes in, uselessly, to which you roll your eyes. well shit, maybe you should double text? let him know you were just fooling around, trying to check temperatures and establish the mood. your phone pings again, and all unnecessary thoughts are thrown out the window.

@gsatoru: oh so you got jokes now?

as you’re about to let him know you’ve been had jokes, but never the goofy type, you see the bubbles pop up, a telltale that he’s got more to tell you. you let him have it, already having possibly fumbled the mission before even starting. it feels like an eternity and a half waiting on his text, the girls having huddled over you yet again, just as curious to see what he had to counter with.

@gsatoru: can’t be a joke if the guy had you outside on valentine’s day tho. stk steakhouse? really girl?

your jaw falls slack. you watch with burning eyes at your screen as your built up suspicions were ultimately confirmed. okay, so those two were still somehow connected. you didn’t like to question male friendships, the lack of loyalty not one you’d ever understand. god forbid you ever started fucking with utahime’s ex of many years.

“wait. .” said girl speaks up, drawing the word out as she processes his answer. her tongue rolls around in her mouth, face cringing as the next words follow, “i can’t lie, he kinda ate you up.”

“just sassy as fuck,” shoko laughs, and it’s one of those giggles reserved to shit she honestly finds hilarious, “really girl is crazy. all comfortably like he’s one of your homegirls.”

“now what’s wrong with stk’s?” yuki grumbles, picking at her nails with a childish pout on her lips, “everybody isn’t born with a silver spoon plugged up our asses. god, i can’t stand rich people.”

you don’t bother answering the girls, already aware he chewed with his response, that he’s as sassy as he was years ago and that he had found that particular steakhouse shabby despite it being a fucking steakhouse. these were things you already knew. your thumbs proceed before your mind can register,

@yourstrulyname: been keeping tabs on me?

“you don’t look too happy,” shoko pokes at your cheek. there’s an ache creasing in your forehead, and you relax the furrow of your brows. you’re not exactly upset, just a bit on edge with his approach— you can’t tell whether he’s on tens or not. whether he’s genuinely joking around or not.

“i’m fine.” you poke back, and she nods. she ushers the other girls to pick a new movie to play, and you clock this is her way of allowing you some privacy between exes. you shoot her a grateful look, and she offers a sly wink. you’ll make sure to update her on whatever happens as soon as it’s over.

you switch your ringer off, and open his new message.

@gsatoru: hard not to when he posts you like he has smth to prove

@yourstrulyname: who said it was me?

you knew it was you. you knew he knew it was you. but still, you wanted to hear it from him yourself, wanted to know if he really was keeping tabs on you ever since the breakup. it’d help ease your mind with unanswered questions.

@gsatoru: you mean besides the bags and jewelry i got you?

@gsatoru: your build was a dead giveaway. could recognize you blindfolded in a room full of women

you bit your lip. you could work with this text, play around with it and see if shit flips. would he fall for the bait? you’ll start off slow, create an opening and see if he decides to indulge.

@yourstrulyname: like what you saw?

he answers instantly and your heart sinks a bit.

@gsatoru: of course

@gsatoru: you’re as a beautiful as the day you left me

is that how he saw it? you assume you did leave him in a practical sense, but there was no way he hadn’t seen it coming miles away. you had both been caught up in your lives, the additional stress of romance an unwanted factor in the rise of your careers. so yeah, you’d given him the opportunity to leave. it’s not as if he fought it anyway, so did you really leave him if he’d closed the door on his merry way out?

this was starting to get personal. toeing between the line of uncharted territory and familiarity. everything you didn’t want— debriefing the logic behind the underwhelming breakup on tinder of all places was out of the fucking question.

@yourstrulyname: you still cool with sukuna?

@gsatoru: something like that

@gsatoru: he’s slimey as fuck for sliding on you tho

you figured as much. you couldn’t imagine a world where gojo wouldn’t feel some type of way at his friend going after his ex girlfriend a couple months fresh off a breakup. he probably felt the same way towards you, the difference being one owes him more loyalty than the other.

@yourstrulyname: and what does that make me?

@gsatoru: did he mean something to you?

he didn’t. you think of the importance of somebody meaning something to you— the fear of losing that person larger than life itself. the joy of waking up in that person’s arms on a rainy morning. the vulnerability in bonding souls with that person. the relief your body undergoes as it melts in that person’s embrace.

he didn’t mean shit to you.

@yourstrulyname: no

@gsatoru: then that makes you someone who made a choice

neutral and impassive. you wondered if he truly meant that. in a sense, you assume he really did mature.

@yourstrulyname: so he’s in the wrong but i’m not?

@gsatoru: who am i to assign right from wrong? you’re both adults at the end of the day

you don’t know what to answer to that. there was a lot of truth to his words— you were both consenting adults with choices made. jeez, just what had gojo gone through all these months that made him none the wiser? you’re considering leaving him on opened for a while, at least until you come up with an answer to that philosophical ass message, when he double texts you.

@gsatoru: this is so backwards lmaoo. what’s good with you? how’ve you been?

so he realized it too. thank fuck— skipping small talk and diving into the nitty gritty this late at night was not how you expected your night to go. the girls had completely forgotten your predicament, invested in the latest reality tv show flashing on your flat screen.

@yourstrulyname: been good. you?

@gsatoru: wow you’re as dry as ever

@gsatoru: life’s been blessed, could be better tho. too much to explain over text

oh? was this what you were thinking it was?

@yourstrulyname: what are you getting at, gojo?

@gsatoru: gojo? so it’s fuck me then

@gsatoru: not getting at anything. ball’s in your court, yn

so it was. you contemplate it for a second— should you invite him over tonight? the girls won’t be upset about kicking them out, and if anything they’d encourage you to call them as soon as it’s over. you suppose your doubts lie within the idea of having your ex boyfriend back into your territory. in the comfort of your home, a home he’d once already graced.

as scary as it sounded, you also desperately craved seeing him. it’d been a solid eighteen months since you’ve broken up, and thirteen since you’ve last seen him entirely. ironically, around the time you started getting involved with sukuna. you weren’t sure if it was your heart or pussy talking, but laying up in bed with this man was not something you were against.

fuck it.

@yourstrulyname: you know where i stay at

and his response comes instantly.

@gsatoru: be there in half an hour.

oh fuck.

“yo. . .” you speak up, for the first time in a few minutes. the girls turn their heads, acknowledging you, as you shut your phone close and chuck it across the sofa. “i love y’all but y’all gotta go, like now.”

shoko shakes her head, but there’s a smirk on her lips. utahime, as lost as ever, gives you a frown. yuki has most likely caught on, rising to her feet, dusting her lap, “say no more.”

the girls do you an immense favour as they excuse themselves. they pick at empty bottles and containers, throw dirty dishes in the dishwasher, rearrange the throw pillows and even light up your candles. you feel bad for kicking them out so late, so you pitch in some money for gas as well as the inconvenience.

as they cleaned out your living room and kitchen, you’d rushed to your shower for a mini cleanse. pulling out your bests, you wash over intimate parts thoroughly, lathering your limbs in scented soap, before rinsing, brushing your teeth and stepping out. you stare at your reflection through the haze of steam, the foggy mirror reminding you of the missing messages he used to leave on mornings you had to get to work.

no point in dwelling on the past when he was on his way over this moment. you swap your silk robe for the skimpiest loungewear you own— matching camisole and shorts, and let your hair cascade back down. you’re about your fifth spritz of body spray when the doorbell rings, and your stomach flutters.

you halt in your step when you notice how fast you’re going. yikes! the last thing he needs is his ego inflating, knowing you were rushing to get him inside, nevermind the fact you washed, pulled out your sexiest pyjamas and even wore a brand new pair of panties. you know. . . just for preparations. better safe than sorry.

after the third mindless lap around your kitchen, you make your way towards the door. you inhale sharply, clenching at your shaky fingers, easing your nerves. you quickly snap out of your daze, pulling the door open.

his eyes, momentarily distracted by the number engraved in the wall next to your door, glaze over your figure curiously. his hands are tucked in the pocket of his sweatpants. he lets out a breath, a sound borderlining a chuckle as it shoots straight to both heartbeats, shoulders drop from its hunch,

“hey.”

he’s thick.

no perverted shit. you’ve noticed he’s put on weight in the right places— not to say he’d been anything less than nicely built in the past, but his biceps are significantly fuller and the material of his compression tee stretched over bulging muscles in a telltale pattern.

somebody’s been at the gym one too many.

“you good with this?” he mumbles, hand running across the smooth skin of your calf. with every stroke of his palm are fleeting memories of the past, burning deep into your limb. you hate the way your stomach sinks st the thought, “me being here and shit.”

“wouldn’t have let you in if i wasn’t.” you answer honestly, back pressed into the arm of the couch. you don’t understand how fast he’d gotten comfortable with being in your personal space just like that— you don’t understand how you’d allowed him in your personal space just like that.

he nods, and the air is eerily quiet. you watch with furrowed brows as he traces shapes into your skin with his fingertip, a frenzy of emotions resembling those of turbulence all in cerulean eyes. he’s torn— you can see it in the way his nose scrunches, as if he’s debating on whether he should voice out his thoughts or not. whether it’s worth debriefing— if this is his last shot or not.

with all this time passed, he’s still so easy to read.

“what is it?” you sigh, albeit irritated. the last thing you’d planned when you got rid of your friends in favour of having your ex over was this weird ass tension roaming. crazy sentence to speak— you know, but you were really hoping it’d be less talking involved and more sexing. it wasn’t that you were against conversing with him, but the way he was choosing to go about it was just so. . . awkward .

he senses the irritation laced in your question and immediately chuckles. his laugh sounds breathless, almost dry, but he shakes his head. his free hand swipes at his nose, a tic of his you noticed years ago whenever he’s feeling bashful or caught, and clears his throat.

“how’d you and sukuna happen?” he rips off the bandaid, and asks you the last question you wanted to hear. the tracing on your leg slows down, and your arms tighten a bit around your torso.

you let out a puff of air. if gojo notices your discomfort, he doesn’t mention it. in fact, he doesn’t pull the question back at all— he stares at you intensely, as if baring into your soul, as if the answer to his question will determine whether the boulder weighted on his shoulders will free him of restraint or not.

as if he still stood a chance or not.

“not much to say,” you shrug, as dismissive as possible. he doesn’t budge, the same intensity in his gaze and you roll your eyes, “honest to god. we broke up, he was there at the right time and shit happened.”

the words simmer into the stillness of the night, and he swipes his tongue over his lips pensively, “were y’all ever official?” he pushes, and you click your tongue against your teeth, offering him a deadpanned look. seriously, as if he didn’t know his own friend— in what world was sukuna anything worthy of official?

“god, no.” you shudder, and he nods again. “you know your friend.”

“i don’t,” gojo counters, momentarily wrapping his hand around your ankle. it fits as perfectly as it did all those years ago, where thumbs at your anklet— another prized possession he’d gotten you. your face heats in embarrassment, and he flicks his eyes to glance at you, a fleeting smirk on his lips, before staring back at the jewelry, “going after my ex girlfriend is not something i expected. i don’t know him at all.”

fair enough, you think to yourself. there has to be some lingering resentment towards you for the same reason. had the tables been turned and he’d gone after one of your closest friends, you would’ve cut him off from your life completely. you were being truthful— it wasn’t anything remotely serious with sukuna, not even close to how it’d been with gojo, but you could see it as a matter of principle. you’d already taken the initiative to break up with him first, and going after his homeboy?

god, you had questionable morals.

“it’s different with you,” he feeds in, as if he could read your thoughts. it was probably written all over your face, the scrunch in your brows never letting up. his index finger slides beneath the band of your anklet, the contrast of the silver shade lining perfectly against his complexion, “‘s hard to explain, but you broke up with me so you technically owe me no loyalty— besides, i get why you ended things. never blamed you.”

now that peaks your interest. he gets why you ended things with him? he never blamed you? you clear your throat, forcing the question out, “you do?”

“of course,” he shrugs naturally, as if it hadn’t taken you eons to conclude. as if it hadn’t broke you apart when you’d realized how unneeded you were, “i honestly expected it. you deserved better than what i was giving. you must’ve been lonely— work had always taken a big part of my time, and that left you behind in the dust.”

you’re waiting for the punchline. he continues, “i can’t lie to you— i was wishing you’d resort to cheating over breaking up. that way you’d still be mine, even if it was temporarily,” he chuckles, a soft shade of pink dusting over his cheekbones, as he sniffs, “corny, i know. but you didn’t deserve putting up with my bullshit, so you left. time is of the essence, and that was the one thing i never seemed to give you. you fell out of it— out of love, so. . . i’m sorry.”

words cannot seem to leave you. you’re left utterly speechless— that had been so far from the reason, the realization sitting bitterly at the pit of your stomach. anything, literally anything, would’ve been better than hearing him lie to you again.

“that. . .” you inhale a sharp breath, steadying yourself, “is nowhere near the reason why we broke up.”

he stops in his caress. you think he got whiplash from how fast his neck snaps, eyeing you incredulously. he genuinely seems so confused, and you hate it. to think he’d show up with some lame ass excuse, so far stretched from the truth of the matter, and expected you to believe that. to believe him.

he blinks slowly, “i don’t understand.”

you try to pull your leg away from his lap, feeling like he was stripping you bare of the last bit of dignity you had left, wanting to rip you open. he presses the weight of his hand lightly, urging you to stay near while simultaneously giving you the option to pull away. the ball was in your court yet again.

“wait— help me understand,” the pad of his thumb rolls over your ankle bone gently— far too intimately. your feet curl away, protectively, and his fingers stroke at the ball of your heel, “please. what drove you away? what was it i did?”

there’s a pang in your chest. does he really plan on keeping this up? right in your face? it was one thing wishing him well despite the obvious, but dragging it out even a year later was a bit much. inviting him over was starting to seem like a terrible idea.

“i fell out of love?” you parrot, unbelieving. “gojo— i’m not the one who fell out of anything. i gave you a way out, and you happily took it,” his face contorts into a deeper state of confusion. you huff, “i’m not blaming you for it or anything, but shit, don’t get up in here with lies to cover your ass.”

“lies?” he whispers, to himself, running his free fingers through tousled white locks. he stares at your anklet hardly, like the gift has all the answers he’s looking for. you don’t think he’s avoiding eye contact, but he seems so distraught, so out of the loop, that broadway ought to sign him to a new movie deal. what an actor.

“time is of the essence and you failed to give it?” you continue regardless, throat restricting as it burns in an emotion you’re far too familiar with. suddenly, you feel like you’re twenty five again, left to your own devices and thoughts in the emptiness of his apartment, dressed in your prettiest outfit and another failed date night. “i never gave a shit about that, i knew how much of a hardworking man you were. i took it to the chest— anything to keep you from leaving. you stopped loving me, gojo.”

his jaw falls slack, mouth gaping and you blink your lashes furiously to prevent tears from appearing. god, this was so humiliating, bearing your heart raw in front of your ex boyfriend, “y/n, i never—”

“spare me,” you scoff, mortified by the rush of emotions coursing through you. you take a deep breath in, calming yourself to avoid further explosive feelings, “this isn’t me saying i was the perfect girlfriend. i know i wasn’t— you know i wasn’t, and piling a spiralling partner on top of all the shit you were dealing with wasn’t an option. that’s fine,” it was fine. it didn’t matter, “doesn’t matter anymore. i broke up with you, you didn’t fight to stay, and we both moved on. shit happens.”

it hurt a lot. the sound of the door clicking shut, followed by the crack splitting in your chest. the run towards your bathroom, emptying your contents from both your stomach and heart. you were undeniably a mess, that period of time it took for you to recover. you would never voice it out loud, but you’d been praying he’d tell you just how wrong you were. how he needed you in his life. how you weren’t a burden to him. how he loved you enough to fight through it all.

he hadn’t.

there’s a soft hum in the silence. the sound of your clock ticking near the entrance door. the pounding of your heart against your rib cage. seconds turn into minutes of quietness, and it does no good to your mind. you’re focusing your gaze on the inanimate objects in your apartment, anything to dismiss the reality of the situation. your leg feels cold as his hand pulls away suddenly.

he rolls his tongue against his cheek. another tic of his— he’s formulating his word choice, carefully. you’d seen a ton of this before, though it usually followed a deep sigh and a you’re good baby, trust me. the more you’d see it, the more anxious you became. and christ, if that anxiety wasn’t forming right back.

it takes a while for him to speak, and every passing breath had your chest tightening. he runs his hand across his face, tiredly. when he pulls it away, there’s a melancholic smile on his face, “i think there’s a lot that needs to be addressed. jesus, i always knew you sucked at communicating but this is something else.”

you glare at him. he doesn’t mind it, continuing, “no, you weren’t the perfect girlfriend. but you were my girlfriend, and that’s all that mattered to me. you wanna talk about spiralling? nothing i’m not familiar with— you’re the only reason i didn’t let myself fall into that rabbit hole. you kept me going after graduation. i worked as hard as i did to make sure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger around me. that was the end goal— you were end goal.”

gagged is what you felt. nothing else pure shock. he doesn’t stop there. he isn’t merciful anymore.

“i know i didn’t go about it the right way,” a regretful puff of air is released, “i canceled on you often. our phone calls were shorter, our texts were vaguer and at some point i’d forgotten what you tasted like. but i never loved you any less. not once, even after we argued. not to say i’ve converted into those spiritual people, but you’re the closest thing to a soulmate i’ve experienced.”

shit, you weren’t tripping. he felt it too. fuck. the weight of his words made it impossible to steer him away. you want to intercept, to call him a liar and turn a blind ear at his confession, to shield yourself but how could you when every word he spoke broke the bricks you’d built down?

“i’m not an asshole— i could feel you slipping away. i did try my damned hardest to reel you back in, as you’d done with me. clearly that hadn’t worked how i was hoping it would,” a bitter laugh, or maybe a resentful one. towards you or himself? you wouldn’t know, “it’s because i loved you so much, i let you go. i knew i was losing you, and when you finally came to me, the right thing to do was agree. why keep you from reaching your fullest potential? you weren’t happy with me, trying to fight the inevitable was cruel.”

the inevitable. letting you go was the right choice to make because fighting the inevitable was cruel. he loved you so much he had to let you go because you deserved more than what he had to offer. you call bullshit— in what right did he have to make that choice for you? what right did you have to make that choice for him?

it’s too much at once. your eyes burn with a remorseful feeling, your heart aches in agony and your mind is clouded with thoughts. there your ex boyfriend sat, wide eyes still as blue as when he’d once been yours, presenting you his heart raw in cupped hands— and you still couldn’t find it in you to believe him fully. everything yet nothing made sense. vulnerability was a scary thing, and you weren’t ready to face it.

so, you kiss him.

his breath is taken out of his chest as you lean forward, sealing his mouth shut. you can’t take any more of his merciless words, and the only way to get your mind off it is by getting on it. he feels stiff against you, pupils dilating as you mould lips with his own. your hand travels to the back of his neck, sitting on your knees as you hold him still.

and with a faint lip smack, he pulls away ever so slightly, hands hovering awkwardly over your waist, his breath warm and fanning your cupid’s bow, “wait—”

“don’t wanna talk,” you interrupt, placing another chaste kiss on his lips. he tastes as good as the day you left him. and with another soft smack, your voice lowers, reduced to a whisper, “you gonna fuck me or not?”

he blinks and you stare back at him, full of conviction. a simple yes or no question— and he could gladly see himself out if his answer didn’t satisfy you. his hands finally rest on your waist, and you take it as an invitation to straddle over his hips. he eases your movements by aiding, lifting you just barely to sit on him. his hands fit just as they did all those times ago. a sour, bittersweet feeling— fingertips caressing the nakedness of your torso beneath your camisole.

your back arches as he finds your sensitive spots with quickness. he’d always been great at that, leaving trails of goosebumps past his teasing touches.

“you’re doing it again,” he mumbles against your lips, ever the hypocrite, fingers gripping at your waist like a vice. he rolls your hips over his own, reeling in the softness of your palms cupping at his face. you ignore him when he continues, still nibbling on his bottom lip the way he loves, “you can’t— mmh, avoid this forever.”

maybe not, but you sure as hell could right now. the tip of your noses bump into one another as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss. you want to rid your mind of these plaguing thoughts, ones that made you doubt everything you thought you knew. losing control was out of the question, so naturally you needed it back into your grasp.

sex was an easy way to do that.

“yes or no, gojo.” you give him one last chance, grinding your hips down on his awakening dick. you feel his bulge through his pair of sweats, the print so evident you wondered why he was trying to fight it. the sight alone had your panties dampening in your arousal, uncomfortably sticky against your loungewear.

he hums in between kisses, a false pretend of debating his options. his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your shorts and past your panties, fondling at the flesh that sat beneath. he could fake it all he wants, but fuck chivalry— he was turning to mush the more you sucked at his tongue, licking at the crevice of the roof of his mouth.

it’s when you sink your teeth into the flesh of pink lips, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to draw a moan from him, he comes to a conclusion. he nods his head, snaking his arms to wrap at your waist tighter as finally kisses you back.

“it’s always a yes.” for you. he doesn’t say it, doesn’t need to, but you hear it and dismiss it. no more lovey doveyness and time to get to the nitty gritty of shit— getting your back blown out. the very thought alone is enough to put a smile on your lips.

bingo.

your bedroom door hardly shuts before he pins you against it. he’s annoyingly big— tall in height and wide in weight. he towers over you comically, hands roaming at every inch of your body as he drinks you up. his lips seek yours desperately, sliding over your glossy ones with practice that suggests hints of comfort.

your arms loop at his neck, and his at your waist. his mouth hardly lets up of yours, mumbling a little jump, as you comply with ease. thighs trapping him in your hold, you then find yourself face to face with him as he lifts you, large palms cupping at your ass. you fit just as perfectly in his hands as you did years ago, flesh so fat he gropes it tenderly.

the walk from the door to your bed passes in the blink of an eye, a timeframe you find pointless to recall as you indulge in the taste of him through his tongue. his presence is so overwhelmingly powerful— every touch and caress at your body reducing your limbs to mush. you cling to him, either out of safety reasons or desire, tilting your head from side to side to deepen the lip-to-lip action.

when he gets to the edge of your bed, he lowers you until your toes reach the floor. due to the difference in height, your lips part, a thin string of saliva connecting from both your mouths as proof of your unison. the blue shade of his orbs darken with desire, eyelids lowering as he drinks up the sight of you— lips plump and swollen, slick in saliva, chest heaving from lack of oxygen.

he raises a hand from your waist to cup at your face, and you detest the way your lean into his touch. your cheek fits in his large palm, and he swipes a thumb at your bottom lip, collecting your shared spit onto the pad of his digit. as he smears the fluid further across your mouth, he prods his thumb a little further— testing out the waters, wanting to see if you’d cave into old habits.

naturally, you allow it, his thumb swallowed by your puckered lips. you roll your tongue over his finger and your eyes never leave his— hoping to convey the rush of emotions you feel through your sultry gaze. your core throbs in want, your stomach erupting in butterflies and your heart pounding unnecessarily. unspoken words you’re positive he understood, if the way he groans when your teeth sink lightly into his digit said anything.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, popping his finger back out. it’s coated in saliva, and like the freak he is, pops it into his own mouth. once he’s had his fill, he removes his hand from his mouth, and lowers it to your fleshy waist, slipping past the waistband of your panties, “take these off— ‘m hungry, need a taste of that pussy.”

your cheeks nearly split from your excitement, and you comply to his order, gripping at the hem of your shorts to pull them down to your ankle. he assists you despite the previous demand, his own hands atop of yours, a warmth and sense of security so familiar. when your shorts reach past your mid thigh, you allow him to meet you halfway.

he pulls your shorts down to your ankles, lowering himself to a knee. his movements are agonizingly slow, basking in the sight of your thighs in contrast of the shade of your loungewear. he steadies a hand onto your calf, patting it lightly, and you lift your leg just barely, permitting him to slide the shorts off your ankle and tossing it aside.

when the item is discarded, he redirects his focus back to you. he pampers your skin in kisses— delicate but hungry, trails of moisture crawling back up at your inner thighs and shooting right to your core. he looked unexplainably sexy on his knees, littering your body in hushed praises, the tip of his nose nudging at your soft skin. you bit your lip in attempts to cease it from wobbling at the intimacy he was providing.

“god, you smell so good,” he speaks into you, hands snaking to the back of your thighs, pressing you forward into him. your panty covered cunt presents itself right before him, and he plants his nose right into your intimates, your body shuddering as his nose bumps into your clit deliciously. a shaky breath escapes you, and his hands travel upwards to play with your ass. “turn around, wanna eat it from the back.”

the words are taken from you when his hand slaps your ass encouragingly, releasing a mini squeal, “you’re still too freaked out.”

“mhm, something like that,” you don’t see it, as you’re occupied on spinning on your feet to plant your hands on your matters for stability, but you’re positive he’s smirking. your arch your back for him, wanting to properly present the meal he plans on devouring. your cunt oozes slick against your thong just thinking about how he’s going to do you in, “there’s that arch,” a hand slides in the curve of your lower back, before snapping the band of your thong. it recoils against your cheek and you jerk forward at the sting.

“oh? did that hurt?” he taunts, and as you’re about to protest, he does it yet again. the snap is intense but never painful, but the nerve he had to play around like your pussy wasn’t a few centimetres away from his face. you don’t acknowledge how your panties cling even tighter to your folds.

“fuck off,” you curse through gritted teeth, but your hips wiggle backwards in attempt to get him to hurry it up. as if now was any time to tease— you couldn’t stand it when he did it all those years ago, and your feelings haven’t changed since, “get on with it. . . the fuck?”

you hear him sigh, almost disappointedly, and it only aggravates you further. your brows furrow in annoyance and you think you feel a vein tick at your temple.

“still so disrespectful,” gojo tuts, rubbing at your booty tenderly. so he wasn’t exactly wrong, but how was he expecting you to react when he’d just said he was going to eat you out, and proceeds to do anything but that? of course there’s going to be a little pout on your lips, “we gotta work on that attitude of yours.”

your face twists into a look of further aggravation, and you tilt your head back, readying whatever other bratty objections you had— though you’re ultimately interrupted by a sharp sting that spreads across your ass.

the strike of his palm against your cheek sprawls into an intense heat, the pain oddly pleasurable, and the moan that rips out of your chest is impossible to suppress. your eyes nearly jump out of their sockets at the audacity, and right as you’re about to complain, he does it again. and again.

“o-okay, shit!” you attempt to voice out, but he’s relentless, delivering blow after blow onto the same ground. there’s a curve in his palm, and it amplified the sound across the room. despite your protests, you can’t deny every jolt of pain rushes to your clit. you’re positive he knows you’re enjoying this, “gojo— fuck, okayyy!”

to your pleasure, he eases the slaps, opting to smoothen his hand flat across the reddened flesh. he hums pensively, the heat of your skin radiating against his palm in a way that forces a smile on his lips, “ ‘okay?’ what do you mean by that, baby?”

you clench your teeth at his faux ignorance. you know exactly what he wants from you, and you’re not sure if you’re able to give it to him as you are. an apology— he wants you to apologize, that bastard. your left cheek stings like a bitch, even with his now gentle touches, and your core is begging you to cooperate with him, in order for that attention it was neglected of. he is such a dickhead— putting you in a predicament like this one.

you swallow the last bit of dignity you hold, a constant reminder in the back of your mind that this was for the greater good— for the sake of your pussy. with a pained sigh, you tilt your head backwards to meet his playful gaze that stares back at you, right below the plump of your ass, and you muster the cutest look you can give.

doe eyes paired with a little pout, “‘m sorry. . . for the attitude,” you’re not sorry at all, but you desperately want your cunt in his mouth, so you do what you have to do, “can you eat it now? please?”

he flashes you a million dollar smile, all thirty twos on full display, and it takes every ounce of willpower in you not to roll your eyes right then and there. he was so full of shit, his eyes might as well brown. but still, you knew he got off on this kind of thing, and when he presses a quick kiss at the print of your lips, he replies, “of course, sweet girl— only because you asked so nicely.”

there’s no further need to speak, as you feel your thong being pushed to the side, followed by a cold breeze hitting your bare cunt, meshed with warm breathe as he feasts .

gojo eats you out like he has something to prove, and you know what— maybe he does. to prevent you from straying from him, he grounds you with two firm hands gripping at your ass. he spreads the flesh apart, his tongue lapping at your slick greedily. you can’t tell who’s moans are louder— yours or his, the man so engaged in sucking at your clit, nibbling on the bundle of nerves with practiced ease. you hold onto the sheets on your bed with dear life, thighs trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up.

“fuck, don’t stop,” you whine, pushing your hips further back, your mind overcame with utter greediness for more of that insatiable pleasure. you might as well have swallowed him whole into you, just as he’s swallowing you whole into him, his tongue diving deep past your hole and into your folds. he flicks his tongue expertly, licking at every crevice and nook of your cave, his jaw working overtime as his bottom lip never lets up at your clit.

your entire pussy is consumed by him, no area going neglected— drool slips past his mouth and spills onto your floor. a familiar heat licks at the pit of your stomach, a telltale that your dam is bound to burst anytime soon. he remedies your ache with another painful spank at your ass, groaning into your pussy when you clamp down on his tongue.

he was so fucking nasty— fucking into you with his tongue like he needed this more than you did. he makes out with your cunt, like he was a starving man on death row. at a particular cruel angle of his tongue fucking, your body would react with an all consuming tremble, fingers clawing at your duvets, your lungs releasing pathetic mewls. and the further you pushed back into his merciless mouth, the closer his nose nudged at your puckered forbidden hole.

he pulls away with a gasp, subbing his mouth out for his fingers, the pads of three fingers rubbing messily at your sloppy lips. the sound it creates is downright filthy, so painfully loud that it damn near drowns out your own moans.

“pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he spits a wad of saliva at your already soaked cunt, further amplifying the squelching sounds. he drags his fingers down to your clit, pinching at the bud with enough pressure to have your knees buckling, before sliding back upwards to your clenching hole. he slides into your entrance, index and middle fingers twisting in with ease, “bet she missed me, hm?”

“y-yes!” you nod mindlessly, your high creeping up on you as he works himself into you. taking six inches of fingers twice was a task in itself— the average length of a man’s dick serving purpose as fingering was just downright disrespectful. his knuckles poke at your silky walls, stretching you out to the best of his abilities, “shit— oh fuck, ‘m gonna cum!”

to your statement, he latches his lips back to your neglected clit, sucking on the bud as if he were intentionally trying to milk you dry. he hums at your taste, the vibrations shooting right up your alley and into the knot tightening in your guts— and when he curls his fingers upwards, at that spot that has stars dancing beneath your eyelids, the dam breaks. that knot stood no chance.

“oh goddd,” you cry out, spraying your release all over. it dribbles out your pussy and past the lower half of his face, to which his jaw widens as his mouth gapes— greedily aiming to slurp at your juices while simultaneously flicking your bean. the stimulation has your brain going dumb, as you fall flat onto your bed, drool collecting at the corner of your mouth and staining your sheets damp.

he lets you ride out the euphoric bliss, the movements of his fingers and the lapping of his tongue slowing down the more your body reacted to the overstimulation. when he deems you well spent, he lets up, slipping his fingers out and popping them back in his mouth, swirling your taste across his pallets, “as sweet as ever,” rising back to his full height.

you haven’t came that hard in a while, limbs reduced to nothing as you merge into one with your bed. your legs are still trembling, and your chest heaves as you exhale deep breaths. letting your eyelids close shut, you take the time to regroup yourself from that mind shattering orgasm. who the fuck had he been fucking that forced him to keep this skill? granted, you had no right to complain but holy shit, he was no fucking noob.

you feel the weight of his body press on top of you, a well-built chest meeting your moist back. it doesn’t take much to realize he’s hovering over you. his lips litter kisses at the column of your neck, moving up to the shell of your ear, leaving a trail of goosebumps after each embrace, “you tappin’ out already?” gojo snickers at your shell of a body, and you kiss your teeth at his typical mockery, “what happened to my champ while i was gone?”

“fuck off,” you pout, a little embarrassed by the fact that you really were retired from the game. sure, you were getting dicked down real good by your previous partner (question mark), but it never had you as exhausted as you currently were. there was absolutely nothing gojo satoru couldn’t do, and that ticked you off to no end, “nobody said shit about tappin’ out.”

“hm. . .” he hums, nuzzling his nose into your jugular, his hips grinding into the cleft of your ass. it’s impossible to ignore the bulge poking into you, and you doubt he was trying to hide it regardless, his hips rolling against the plushness of your behind, “guess sukuna didn’t do as good of job as he should’ve.”

that has your eyelids opening right back up. talk about an awkward situation— bringing up you and your ex’s (question mark) sex life while having sex with your other ex was a double edged predicament in itself. had you agreed, which lowkey wasn’t entirely wrong, you’d be stroking the fuck out of gojo’s ego and be disrespecting sukuna. but had you disagreed, you could end up on gojo’s wrong side and fumble an entire night worth of dicking.

so, once more, you take the easy way out, at the expense of inflating the white haired man’s ego, much to your dismay, “think you can do better?”

he stays silent for a while. in what you assume is him coming up with an answer to your question, his kisses travel to the dead centre of your shoulder blades, wet and open mouthed, as they crawl lower down your spine. with every kiss, your body caves into a state of relaxation, as if he was undoing every stress clouding at your hazed mind with his mouth alone.

he lands at the middle of your back, before he pulls away abruptly. and just as soon as he started, he was finished— removing himself off your body entirely. panic settles quickly in your stomach, as you turn your head around to see what he was up to. had you unintentionally hurt his feelings? damn, and here you were enjoying the body worship.

“what are you—” your words are cut off as his hands cup at your waist. he slides you back towards the edge of the bed, your feet planted on the floor once more. you feel some residue of your previous orgasm beneath your heels, eugh. you don’t have much time to spend thinking about how gross it feels when a hand holds your shoulders, and lifts you right back up.

your brows jump to your hairline in surprise at the sudden manhandling, though you can’t deny you found just a bit sexy. with his chest pressed into your back once more, you can feel his heartbeat thudding at the blade of your left shoulder, the organ withholding a steady rhythm— the tempo of a lullaby you’d once been accustomed to. and then big arms wrap around your frame, and holds you.

you hate the way your body folds so easily to his touch. it’s been an entire year, and despite your mind shouting at you for the intimacy you’re allowing to gallop right back into your life, your heart craves it. the sense of security his embrace offers you alone makes the least of sense, but you blindly lean into him, allowing yourself to be deluded for the time being. he won’t be yours as soon as this is over, so you might as well take the most advantage of the situation.

it takes a minute for either of you to speak. here you stood— half naked and legs sore, but still happily in his arms. his cologne is still as rich and dominating as it’d been all those times ago. he breaks the silence first, his chin resting above your shoulder, as he mumbles, “you really hurt my feelings, you know.”

to some degree, you know you did. about what exactly? you weren’t sure, but still, you offer him what you believe he wants, the realization leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, “i’m sorry.”

“‘s all good,” he kisses your cheek so tenderly that your neck cranes to the side to meet his gaze. gojo had always been so readable when it came to emotions, as he always wore his heart on his sleeve, but even with all the knowledge you knew about, you weren’t prepared for the look in his eyes. raw, unfiltered emotions. you only notice the close proximity between you both when your noses bump into one another. he shoots you a warm smile, “could never be upset with you. you hold that power over me.”

it’s you who kisses him first, and he returns the favour with more intensity. it’s an awkward positioning for your neck, but you don’t let up regardless of the ache in your joints. his mouth stays on yours as if you were his lifeline, tongues sloshing one over the other, brushing your lips together so gingerly.

in the midst of his tongue down your throat, he slips a hand in between your thighs, cupping at your abandoned pussy. the casual brush of his fingers at your core sent a breathy whine from your throat right into his mouth, and it only motivated him to work harder, rubbing slow patterns into your throbbing clit. your hips chase the feeling, riding the wave of his fingers.

he pulls away from your mouth, just barely, mumbling against your kiss bitten lips, “one of these days you’re gonna let me finish speaking,” followed by a knowing smile. sure, it could be seen as a flaw, but it was the only way you could protect yourself while keeping him within arm’s reach. never ready to have him but never prepared to let him go, “we can do that later— gotta blow your back out first.”

you couldn’t agree more.

it all happens so quickly— he retrieves his hand from between your thighs, having collected your juices at his fingertips, before lubricating his dick. he pumps at the length leisurely, his bottom lip tugged by his top row of teeth, and the groans he lets out are enough to have you squeezing your thighs eagerly, your cunt aching and ready to go. in the midst of your eagerness, you slip your hand behind you and catch his twitching cock, working your wrist right above his own, jerking him off.

a deep groan grumbles from his chest, and he instantly stops your hand from moving any further. you frown at his ceasing, but when you tilt your head to voice out your confusion, he offers a sheepish smile, “don’t wanna cum too soon,” ever the minute man, he was.

though, you soon find yourself regretting your own thoughts the very instant you feel the tip of his dick pushing past your entrance.

there’s a blended harmony of both your moans that bounces off the walls. his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips, holding onto you so tightly you’re positive you’ll bruise, and you clamp down on his intruding dick so tightly you’re positive you never want to let him go. the initial stretch is a feeling you’ll never get used to, but the sensation is all but unwanted.

“fuckkk, y/n,” he moans right into your ear, his voice so full of want, you can’t help but understand exactly where he’s coming from. he pulls his hips back, almost entirely, though his tip stays inside. it takes him a second to regroup, mumbling incoherent words under his breath, before he plunges back into your cunt.

and from that point on, it’s wraps. he fucks into you like a madman— as if he’d been punishing you for your crimes. punishing you for sleeping with another man. punishing you for leaving him a year and a half ago. punishing you for punishing him. his pace is ruthless— hips meeting your ass as fast as he’d pull out, pounding into your little hole to mould it into the shape of him.

he’s thick, this time on perverted shit.

you’re so painfully full of him, and despite your arms stretched outwards to grip at the sheets that had suffered more than enough of your abuse on them, your walls never let go of him. you don’t want him to pull out ever, utterly obsessed with the rough pace he set from the jump. it feels impossible keeping the curve of your back when the tip of his length repetitively attacks at your golden spots.

“ohmygoddd,” you words come out slurry, head lolling forward uselessly. if he kept fucking you like this, you weren’t going to let him leave again. stuck in an endless loop of bliss, with every thrust into your folds, his balls would slap at your clit and drive you insane, “y’re d-doing me s’gooddd,”

“yeah?” he eggs on, his voice as breathless as you’d been, though his pacing would never suggest so. there’s a hypnotic recoil of your ass bouncing back onto his pelvis that indulges him into disrupting it, delivering a new spank at your cheeks. you cry out at the feeling, and he strikes again, hips never letting up, “tell me more baby.”

you rise at your tip toes when you feel yourself sinking, legs giving out yet again. you hold yourself up at your elbows, a newfound confidence pushing your hips back to match his pace. when he heaves out a loud moan, you’re encouraged to keep going. the melody of your skins slapping against each other echoes into the stillness of the night, arching your back the further he plunges into your guts. you’re so turned on, the evidence creaming around the perimeter of his cock, easing the slides of his dick inside of you.

“toruuu,” you whine, too fucked out to notice your first mistake— calling him by his favorite nickname. at that given moment, you couldn’t care any less, the intense heat in your guts growing once more. the curve of his dick reaches spots you don’t think anybody could reach, almost as if he was made entirely for you, “you’re so big— can feel you, nghhh, everywhere!”

“that’s cause i am everywhere,” you think you can hear him smirking behind you. though, he has every right to feel entitled, with how much of a mess he’s reduced you to. he rolls his hips deep, a firm bulge forming into your tummy. as if he’s got a sixth sense or eye, he leans forward to rest his chest against your back— your eyes rolling back from the new angle. he slides a hand beneath your stomach and presses at the bulge hard. you can’t help the squeal you let out, “that’s me right there.”

you nod your head feverishly, the applied pressure on your stomach pushing his cock right at your cervix. oh god, he was going to kill you. what a wonderful way to go— all judgements clouded in favour of an eight inched dick penetrating your walls, “‘s all yours— mmh, always been.”

and that’d been your final mistake.

because the chuckle he lets out right into your ear is dark. the sounds shoot right up to your spine, shivers crawling up your back deliciously. he might as well be back stabbing you with how his cock plunged so sloppily out of your gaping cunt, “you always knew how to, fuck, pillowtalk,” he pants into your neck, his additional weight onto your shaking frame nothing short on welcoming. the hand pressing into your stomach lowers to your clit, and pinches meanly at the bud, “you know i’d, mmh, give you the world if you asked— my smart girl, shit.”

he’s so cruel, talking to you so lovingly despite it all. you tighten your eyes, in poor attempts to ignore the tenderness of the words fleeting his lips and focus instead on the stretch of your cunt down his dick. you feel yourself creaming on him, further proof of both your unison through his diabolical thrusts. he pinned you into place like this— unable to do anything but take what he gave you gratefully.

at a particular stroke at your abused golden spot, your body releases another tremor of shudders. it overtakes you from head to toe, a moan so ripe escaping your lips as you claw at ruined sheets. gojo works into aiming at that spot over and over again, each thrust more intense than the previous one. the change of his pace, slowing for a minute, draws you near the end of the line quicker than you’d anticipated.

“oh?” he grunts playfully, swaying his hips back and forth into your poor pussy. mercy is nowhere to be found, however, “you like it when i fuck you like this?” another agonizingly beautiful thrust at the same place, you can’t help but reward him with a cry. he’s fucking you into the damn mattress, and he has the balls to ask this question knowing the answer. still, you nod your head mutely, tears collecting at your lash line, and he nips at the skin on your jaw, “yeahhh you do.”

god, you do.

and suddenly, you can’t bring yourself to remember why you’d ever let go of dick this good. the kind that would have you taking the rubber off and considering finishing inside. the kind that had you babbling apologies for having done absolutely nothing wrong. the kind that made you begin to believe his careless whispers, empty promises to work things out.

in the midst of your delusions, he pulls you both back up from the bed, standing once again. at this new position, he reaches impossibly further into you, the difference in your heights making up for the inches he’s dug into you. his fingers dig in the column of your throat, the weight of his hand wrapped tightly at your neck. he’s everywhere at once, but simultaneously no where to be found. while you can feel his tip prodding at your most sensitive spot, you don’t feel the overwhelming force of love he once bore with open arms for you.

or was it you were feigning you don’t? because as he works himself back into you, at a pace so tender yet cruel, the line of boundaries you’d once set has been entirely deterred. a force so overwhelming, just like his entire being, bringing you right back to him as if you’d never left— nevermind the fact your thighs could barely support themselves, quaking pathetically. it was getting too much— everything was a lot.

“nahhh. . . don’t start running now.” you didn’t realize you were. the sheets are crumpled in your tight hold, while your other hand lightly pushes at his lower abdomen. you were a trooper, but there was only so much pleasurable torture you could handle. naturally, he pins your wrist at your spine to maintain his ruthless pace, and with another gentle yet cruelly empty promise, he coos, “not when i’ve just gotten you back.”

how the fuck did you get yourself in this mess?

oh right. . . tinder. you had a bone to pick with the ceo of that app right after you come back to your senses.

“i— i can’t,” you fumble at your words, the lack of oxygen catching up to you. you’re bound to his mercy— hands tied, breath nearly restricted, pussy obliterated, and yet, there’s nowhere else you’d want to be. the pressure on your throat lolls your head backwards, chin facing the ceiling as your eyes fall onto snowy lashes, “gonna cum again— oh fuckfuckfuck,”

and despite his brutality, he shoots you a sweet smile, the contrast in his words versus his actions grand, “right behind you, baby.”

you cum, and hard . much harder than you had before. you gush your fluids down his piercing cock, your folds squeezing him tight as you release. you think your mind blanks for a minute, an orgasm so powerful, you fear your eyes would stay stuck at the back of your skull. you shiver in his embrace, the insatiable desire racking your body from top to bottom.

when he pulls out, you fall flat yet again onto your stomach, face first. you assume you look like a puddle of nothingness, your limbs spent from the overexhaustion. but still, you find yourself in a similar position to prior, as gojo leans over your body, a hand holding him up as the other works on his jerking him cum out. smart move, not finishing inside, though a weird feeling of disappointment sits in your stomach, swapping the fiery heat from your orgasm.

he sinks his teeth into your shoulders as you wince, emptying himself right onto your lower back. it runs hot and smooth into the dimples of your back, that you can’t help but stretch your limp arm towards the mess to collect the residue on your fingers. you pop them into your mouth, his taste still so familiar as he plops right at your side, face up.

there’s a thick silence that fills the sex scented room. you wonder what is going through his brain now that the lust demon that was half his ego had been taken care of. was he on the same page as you were? had he realized just how messy this could turn out? he’s too quiet for a man of his nature— and that terrified you shitless. no matter the outcome, you’re ready to kick him out. post nut clarity was a scary thing— it revealed the violent truth of how tempting the flesh could be, even with consequences on the line.

you want to beat him to it. the last thing you need on your consciousness is your ex boyfriend who’d you invited into your home a year after you broke up with him, leaving you. he seemed petty enough to do the eye for an eye shtick— it wasn’t too out of character for him.

with a heavy heart and sigh, you turn your head to the side where he lays comfortably. the words want to die in your throat, but your urge them out, the sooner the better, “you should—”

“no.” he interrupts, followed by a yawn.

you frown at that, brows scrunching as you insist that yet again, “you need to—”

“nah.” gojo cuts you off yet again, rolling onto his side. his dick falls limp onto your bed, and you don’t think about the mess it’s making. to be fair, you’d done far worse. and it was proven difficult to care about that mess when he brought a finger to play with your loose hairs, cerulean eyes zeroing in on them, “i’m tired. let’s get you cleaned up and go to bed.”

“you’re not listening to me.” you click your tongue, a little desperate to have him hear you. you’re scared to keep him around longer, because you know you’ll grow attached again and that already ended terribly once, and took you forever and a half to get over. he has to leave and right now, “you have to go.”

gojo hums at that. he stops the twirling of your hair, rather reluctantly, and finally meets your sharp gaze. he still looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, “why?”

you narrow your eyes, “you know why,” you shouldn’t have to explain why two exes cozying up after indulging into each other was a bad idea. common sense, you figured, but was it common sense to have him over in the first place? a flurry of various emotions coursing over you laced with exhaustion had you overthinking like a motherfucker, “this was a bad idea.”

he trails his finger along the slope of your clenched jaw, and you don’t think about the fact it immediately relaxed at his touch. the longer he traced your skin, the longer he kept looking at you like that, you were wavering in your own logic. you’d both gotten what you wanted in the first place, so why was it he was still here? the rational decision would be to pretend this never happened and part ways again, but why was the thought of him locking the door behind him once again at your expense making you feel sick to your stomach?

when his finger lands at your pouty lips, he taps his index finger twice against the flesh. naturally, your pout deepens. his eyes flick from your mouth to your shying gaze, and his index swaps for his thumb. he runs the pad of his finger across the reddened surface, and his voice falls a few octaves lower, hushed for nobody else but you to hear, “you don’t want me to leave.”

you don’t.

he takes your silence as acceptance, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. it’s enough to rid your mind of its plaguing doubts in the meanwhile. and when his hand slides to cup at the back of your neck, ultimately deepening it, you can’t find it in you to care about the consequences for the time being. not when he was swallowing you whole like he was the one terrified to feel you slip from his fingers. you melt into him far too easily.

well. . . that was something you’d deal with in the morning.

tinder: 1, you: 0.

now can y’all stop calling me a deadbeat 🙎‍♂️

[navydoves]

Bunny!Xavier and his strange affectionate habits

there’s always something new with your bunny boyfriend. his habits are so strange!

✎ᝰ a/n: i guess this is a series now lmao. if i were to do zayne or caleb, what animals would they even be. cat and dog? we’ll have to figure this out >_>

dragon sylus version

mermaid rafayel version

𖤐

❥ he nibbles on you! it’s gotten to be a little bit of a problem, but xavier can’t help himself. he’ll nibble on your skin and hair until there are tiny little red marks painted on you. at first you thought these were little hickeys, but the real explanation is much more innocent.

bunnies nibble to groom you! he’ll especially groom you when you’re bed rotting or are too lazy to get up. he wants to make sure you’re clean and if you’re not taking care of yourself — he will! but he also nibbles to get your attention. xavier is known to be pouty and clingy, so if he’s low on your love today he’ll forcefully sit on your lap and nibble on your face until you give in.

❥ he hides in your hair. whenever xavier feels overwhelmed or stressed, he’ll go straight to you and dig his head in your hair. it’s a combination of your scent and your shielding hair strands that gives him a sense of safety. he likes the way your hair feels against his skin along with the way it keeps him warm.

but still — wet, dry, tangled, brushed; he really doesn’t care what your hair is looking like, as long as he can bury his nose in your scalp and close his eyes. this also makes for a good cuddling session!

❥ he eats everything. xavier has the appetite of three elephants and then another three elephants. whether he can cook or not is irrelevant, even if he burns something to the point of it being inedible, he’ll still eat it. snacks you’ve saved for later or baked good you’ve left out gets gobbled immediately by him, and it was only ‘til you scolded him that he stopped. stopped taking you food that is, he’ll still beg.

if he smells a meal in the house he’ll quickly sit next to you and smile silently, hoping that you’ll spare him a piece. he’s learned to be less greedy, go easy on him — but he’ll become extremely elated if you give him a quick nibble. he wouldn’t even ask for a full piece of chicken or bread, just a little slither is enough to keep him happy. he thinks of eating together as bonding.

❥ he mimics you. sometimes consciously, mostly unconsciously, xavier will pick up and mimic your habits. if you have a habit of playing with your hair, xavier will also start playing with his hair to mirror you. if you touch your necklace in thought, xavier will also touch his imaginary necklace while he thinks. it wasn’t until he picked up on your manner of sneezing that you realized you left an impression on him.

you didn’t say anything at first: finding it rather endearing how xavier unknowingly imitates you. but once you brought it up in passing xavier tilted his head in confusion. did he really mimic you that much? he was a little oblivious to that fact, apparently. but even with that realization, xavier doesn’t try and stop himself learning from you. in fact, he tries to tease you by imitating you even more. he loves being like you because he simply just loves you.

❥ he teases you with his ears. xavier knows how much you love his ears, so he’ll use them to his advantage to play. when you’re asleep and he wants you awake, he’ll climb the bed, lean into your face, and move one of his ears over your cheek to stir you awake. in a similar fashion, he’ll use his ears to wrap around your head or wrist as another way to embrace you. the fluffy feel of his ears was always welcome on your skin, it felt like a hug from a pillow.

but by far his favourite way to use his ears on you was when he lightly traced your midsection and thighs with the very tips of his fluff. it tickles you slightly, but the purpose of this tease was to get you riled up and beg for a little more contact. he obliges, of course, but slowly. he loves taking his time with you. by the end of it all, his ears around wrapped around your thighs as he satiates his hunger in a different way this time.

❥ he claps when he’s happy. this can be mistaken as a normal human habit, but xavier does it much more often and eagerly than any regular person. his hands will patter together rapidly to create a very quiet but joyful sound. he has no “normal” way of clapping, he only does it in one specific way to show how content he is. if he thinks the sound is too distracting for the moment, he’ll hide his hands behind his back and pitter-patter them there.

even over small things like finding his favourite ramen in-stock at the store, he’ll clap very quietly to himself before putting it in the cart, and later on, when he gets to show you what he got from the store, he’ll start clapping again from how happy he is to share his excitement. as reserved as he is on the outside, xavier is very chipper on the inside.

𖤐

[bootycallin]

i’m yours

꩜ .ᐟ basically; free use w sevika. that’s it.

cw: wlw. free use (obviously). domtop!sevika. somno. sevika’s mean mean mean. overstim. strap usage (r!receiving). brief mentions of blood. mention of sevika cumming quick lol. the woman’s stressed. angry sex if you squint. no foreplay she just shoves it.

💿 ะ currently playing; isabel larosa - i’m yours

a/n: just as a cautionary warning, everything in this fic is, obviously, fictional. both parties are consenting adults. all actions are strictly consensual. remember; foreplay and safe words are essential. be safe my loves!

free use with sevika, who was honestly ecstatic at the thought of using you anytime she wanted. she’s a busy woman, alright? constantly running errands, beating up whatshisname and godknowswho in the name of silco, takin’ care of a certain blue haired brat who just can’t seem to keep her ass out of trouble—it’s a miracle her head hasn’t exploded yet, purely from migraines.

what’s a better way for her to destress, if not to fuck your brains out? the first few times, it worked just fine. in the kitchen, bathroom, couch, bed, wherever—the real problem arose when she started working more late hours, getting back home at the early hours of the morning. two or three A.M, she walked into you two’s shared bedroom, only to see you deep in your sleep.

now, sevika’s many things. a criminal? yes. tough? very. rude? most of the time. horny? more often than not, when you’re around. controlled? hardly—not with you.

all that being said, she’s not a monster. she couldn’t even dream about fucking you without your say-so.

(she did, once. she swears up and down she doesn’t feel guilty about anything, but that shit has her at gun point. lives in her head like it pays rent. still embarrassed at how she woke up to mortifyingly wet boxers, having to quietly slip out of bed and into the bathroom to take care of the throbbing between her legs.

begrudgingly, she must admit it; still turns her on, still gets her off. every fucking time. comes crawling back whenever she needs to rub one out, leaving her wet, horny and ashamed. the fuck is wrong with you, woman?)

then, you talked to her about it. you mentioned how low her sex drive has been—and she wanted to roll her eyes. because hell no. her libido’s never been higher. she swears her brain just turns anger into (im)pure, debauched hunger, when you’re around. all she wants to do when she comes back home from work is have your pussy all for herself, whether she’s plowing you into the next century or rubbing her own cunt against yours. she just fucking needs you. and yet, she she’s been masturbating like a teenage boy who just discovered porn. it’s embarrassing.

“you’re always asleep,” sevika grumbled, arms crossed over her chest. her eyes are averted, avoiding your gaze. she’s never been shy, but the thoughts that are running through her head are making second guess herself.

“and?” you say, from the kitchen where you cooked. it’s like something in her brain switches. she perks up, eyebrow raised in that familiar way.

“what do you mean, and?” she asked. you had said that so casually. so normal, like she wasn’t slowly getting more and more excited at that mere, single-word reply.

“you can use me, if you want.” you said, turning the stove off and grabbing plates for the two of you.

use me. you said use me. use me, use me, use me.

she’s absolutely dumbstruck.

that night, dinner was only eaten a good hour or two later. might’ve as well been seconds, she had you as her main course. gods, how much she missed it—how you cried and moaned, screamed her name, writhed beneath her. she tries not to think about how quickly she came because of it all, because that’s just embarrassing. she made up for it by giving you more orgasm than we’re really necessary, so by the end of it, you could barely give a fuck about whether she came in two minutes or ten.

you talked about it, after. sure, you were kind of dumb and tired, but you still did. she asked you all possible questions. are you sure? you know what that means? what’s gonna be our safe word? she’s still worried. the last thing she wants to do is to hurt you.

(oh, how soft she’s gotten. fuck you, you little nymph. she can’t get you out of her head.)

the next day, she already has work. slipping out of your shared bed early in the morning, gaze briefly flicking towards your sleeping form.

fuck, you’re so cute. she still feels a pang of guilt over the thought of freely using you. she’s probably not gonna do it. it feels wrong, even with consent. she’s not that bad.

her day was exhausting. absolutely infuriating, too. silco had her running all over the goddamn place, running errands, going on meetings, shimmer and more shimmer, and not to mention jinx being a pain in her fucking ass—

she has to fight the urge to slam the door behind her when she comes back home, a good two in the morning. and as soon as she steps into the room, you just have to be there. sleeping peacefully, one leg hitched up, arms under your pillow, loose, nearly transparent sleep shorts just barely covering your ass.

you did this shit on purpose.

“fuck.” she groaned out loud, because, just when she’s trying to be a better person…

no. scratch that. she needs to be inside you, stat.

she damn near rips all her clothes off, crawling into bed with you. her arms, surprisingly gentle for how stressed she was when they flipped you around . she didn’t want to wake you yet, no. she wanted you to wake up with her cock filling you up. wanted you to feel that first thing out of sleep.

you’re so fucking angelic under her. pretty, semi-transparent, silky baby-doll hanging off your body, hitched up to slightly show a sliver of your tummy. she might just spontaneously explode. and when she tugs your shorts down? fuuuck.

“you fucking minx.”

of course you’re commando. of course you’d wear no fucking panties. just to tease her.

sevika grunted, wrenching your legs open. your pretty cunt was already so pliant for her, folds shiny. slick. you’re wet and you’re still asleep. call that pavlov’s pussy; soon as you feel her close, you’re wet. ready. you’re not even awake and yet look at you. begging.

god, she was planning on getting you ready, but you were making it hard.

“the things you don’t do to me,” she grumbled, shifting in bed to get her harness on, movements nearly sloppy with how quick she tried to be. she pauses when you shuffle, body reacting to the feeling of her heavy silicone cock tapping against your stomach. your body knows her so well, huh?

she considers just shoving it all in, wake you up whining. as the considerate lover she is, she doesn’t—rather, she douses her cock in lube, ‘til it’s practically dripping, then presses her tip against your hole.

there’s a tiny squelch noise from the contact. oh, your pussy’s just so ready.

her palm finds your lower stomach, her mechanical one holding your hips to stabilize herself as she slowly but surely fills you up. inch. by. inch.

of course, you’re quick to notice—sevika doesn’t have one small strap, after all. it’s always the ones that completely fill you up, like she’s in your guts.

you whimpered in your sleep. writhing, eyes still shut. you’ve obviously noticed, though you’re still in that half-asleep state. she shushed you, thumb rubbing little circles on your skin.

“still. still. i’ve got you,” her voice was reassuring as she could make it, even through all the panting and grunting. sevika’s not a comforting woman, but oh well.

“shhh… fuck, just take it, baby,” her hips draw backwards, pulling out halfway and then back in. the amount of self-control it doesn’t take for her to just slam herself inside you…

“mh—“ you whimpered, squirm, but her firm hand kept you still, stopping you from running away. its sudden, you just feel something thick, big filling you up. of course, you’re confused at first.

then your eyes flutter open. bleary, slightly teary. you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. on top of you, flushed and sweaty already. that’s all it takes for her to start picking up her pace.

“vika—“

you can barely get a word in, her thrusts going from slow and shallow to deep and hard real quick, as soon as she saw you were at least semi-aware of your surroundings and could tell it was her.

“shh. shh. fuck, i’ve got you,” she grunted, soothed as best as she could. grabbing your hips. she could feel herself filling you up, cock bulging your tummy ever so slightly. she can feel how deep she is, and god does that turn her on.

“‘vika—ah!”

she’s not thinking anymore. her brain is numb. empty. filled with thoughts of just fucking you, filling you up, dumbing you down on her cock like she isn’t the dumb one, fucking you like an animal, a wolf in a rut. all she can think about is filling you up ‘til she can’t tell where you end and she begins.

the room is a nasty concerto of skin smacking against skin, shared grunts and moans and whine, your little whimpers of ‘ah! ah! ah!’ and her cursing, unable to keep herself quiet. you’re chasing your peak before you can even think about it, thrashing, head spinning. screams of her name ripped from your throat. you’re sure you would get some nasty looks from your neighbors, but who said you could give any fucks about that? not when you’ve got your amazing girlfriend balls deep inside you.

she watches as your back arches, eyes rolling as you let out a breathless, loud cry of pleasure. your legs shake, tense, muscles trembling as your pussy clenched, creaming all over the expanse of her cock. she fucks you all through it, tip repeatedly kissing your cervix. she’s not done. not until she herself cums, groaning loudly and collapsing on top of you.

and she won’t stop.

“vika!” you scream, tears forming in your eyes out of overstimulation. yet your legs are wrapped around her waist, grasping at her, nails scratching down and dragging down her back ‘til she’s sure you draw blood.

“i know. i know, baby,” she growls at the lobe of your ear, hips restless. “so much, yeah? so much. but take it, take it. i’ll give you everything. just.”

plap. “take.” plap. “it.”

plap, plap, plap.

she’ll make sure you do.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[ham1lton]

maneater!yn getting into an argument w one of the drivers after the race and it going viral?

SELF MADE, ASEXUAL!

summary: as one of the very few female drivers in f1, you’re expected to be very careful. however, when a explosive video hits the internet, you have to navigate the fallout.

linked to my maneater series!

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liked by nosybitch1, youthereader and 5,109,928 others.

tmzsports: MCLAREN, MEET MANEATER!: LANDO GETS EATEN ALIVE BY ANGRY YN!

for the full video, check the link 🔗 in our bio.

view all comments.

📌 pinned comment

tmzsports: thoughts? did yn take it too far, or was lando asking for it? 👀 let us know below!

⸻

user1: the way y’all are acting like lando wasn’t yelling back is CRAZY!!!

user2: maneater strikes again 🙄 no man is safe

user3: she’s so aggressive it’s actually embarrassing to watch. no wonder no one takes her seriously in f1

user4: y’all hate yn for breathing at this point lmao

user5: bro if a male driver did this no one would care, but bc it’s yn suddenly she’s the devil 💀

user6: lando looking like he was about to cry and she DID NOT CARE LMFAOO

user7: she’s the problem. she’s always the problem.

user8: he must’ve really pissed her off bc she usually just laughs in men’s faces when they try to argue with her

user9: people calling her toxic when literally every guy on the grid has had a public meltdown at some point 💀 it’s a high level sport!!! everyone’s emotions are high. why criticise her for something you would applaud men for?

user10: “lando gets eaten alive” stopppp the internet is undefeated 😭😭

user11: yn needs to get her emotions in check. she’s in a male-dominated sport. she should know better.

— user12: she’s literally been in f1 for years. she clearly does know better if she’s still here, stay mad lol

user13: nah the real tea is what did lando say to set her off bc she was FUMING

user14: these comments are straight up misogynistic. like be real, if it was max, george, or even charles, y’all wouldn’t care

user15: y’all call her a maneater but from what i see she only “eats” men when they DESERVE it 😛

user16: “she should know better bc she’s in a male-dominated sport�� actually no the MEN should know better and stop being fragile

user17: can we talk about how she was fully ready to swing on him but oscar had to step in 😭

user18: every time she blinks y’all call her a villain i can’t

— user16: like ppl r saying she should be kicked out like wtf. she should have swung on him idc

user19: yn too chopped to be acting like this LOL

— user5: imma chop your DICK off!!!

user20: if she was a man y’all would be calling her “a fighter” and “a true competitor” but bc she’s a woman she’s suddenly a problem

user21: lando def thought he was gonna win that argument and yn chewed him UP

user22: the grid walking on eggshells next race bc yn is officially in her villain era lmaoooo. can’t wait for her next trophy!!!!

user23: she told lando “maybe if you spent less time whining and more time racing you wouldn’t have dnfed” I ALMOST FELL OUT MY CHAIR 😭😭😭

user24: funny how every guy she argues with suddenly becomes a victim in the eyes of the media… wonder why that is 🤔

— user25: starts with m, ends with isogyny.

— user24: funny how lando was yelling too but only yn is getting called aggressive?? misogyny is so boring at this point

user26: yn could literally say “good morning” and half of y’all would start foaming at the mouth

user27: “mclaren, meet maneater” is sending meeee 😭😭😭

user28: praying for yn’s pr team rn

maneater: nah cause y’all stay tryna make me look crazy. “gets eaten alive”?? be fucking for real, he started yelling at ME first. maybe next time try reporting what actually happened instead of whatever dramatic fanfiction y’all cooked up for clicks. clowns. 🤡

— user1: ignore them queen!!! the ynnies in the trenches for you rn <3

— user29: maneater supremacy. keep making men cry queen 💕

— user30: the tears of your misogynistic male haters keep my skin looking youthful. <3

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[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s7 episode 2 thoughts

oh god. i just read the episode description. CSM takes him???! WHERE? good lord!!! can’t they have a break??? and scully has to find him!! fuck!! abduction arc parallels!!!

not even going to ponder what might happen or make any predictions… we need to jump into this. STAT.

(post-episode thoughts: bro... they said the lines.......

so much happened. i ended up having to walk around in silence for 10 minutes or so after the episode ended. to see that alternate dream reality... scully and albert and her heart... cupping each other's cheeks...

there were really, incredibly profound moments in this one, and then also alien mytharc moments that made me go "wtf" a bunch of times. i feel like i have way more questions than i started with and they will probably never be answered. so my overall feelings on this episode are complex and confused, and i will probably need time to sort them out. this confused nature may be visible in my notes- but you have to understand! y'all have had years, even decades, to wrap your heads around these episodes! i just got here, so lend me some grace, bahaha.

oh. i once again really want a post-episode fluff fic. i'm gonna have to just suck it up and write it myself, huh? SIGH.

okay, take it away, me from about 18 hours ago!)

(previously on the x-files)

yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah, recap time. scully begging him at his hospital bed to hold on. mmm. good stuff. so much is happening, though. i’m ready for a bit of a break. a chill episode would be cool.

mulder’s on a beach!!!! watching someone play with a child. and smiling. is that his child? or just some random baby? the lighting implies that this is some dreamland.

OH SHIT!!! his mom is here!!! and the doctor is explaining to him that he is dying!!

“enough! there’s only so much bluntness that a mother can take” <- oh, she is not having this…. she says they’re turning him into a zombie. 

ahhh!! he can hear her thoughts!!! and he’s thinking back!! but she can’t hear him!! and she’s walking away!!! noooo!!! he’s screaming for her in his head!!!!! but obviously she doesn't know :( 

WHY IS. CSM HERE. looking down at him. thinking about what it means to have a father. 

WAIT, THEY’RE TALKING??? psychically. “how does anything i do surprise you now?” <- okay, i feel called out with that line, but forgive me for not knowing that he could READ MINDS??? i thought his whole thing was being an ordinary guy who can do awful things through the power of knowing people and fear!

CSM loads up a syringe…. and pushes it into mulder's head. he gasps. and says he is giving him a choice. life or death. he says mulder’s suffered enough. he isn’t christ. 

and he tells him to arise. and he moves his hand??? and is controlling him??? what.

he says to take his hand. “you have to take the first step” (more visions of a baby)

“i am your father” HUH. 

well. uh. let’s just see what canon actually says. because that was implied before. but. didn’t go anywhere. also, why would someone being your father allow them to read your mind? sorry. i don’t think it works like that. 

mulder looks gagged to hear this. 

spender and mulder half brothers…. omfg. juicy. but AGAIN. let’s see what actually happens. i can’t analyze anything too soon. they love a red herring.

hey guys, what’s going on though. CSM psychic reveal??

OOOO, new words after the intro!!! “amor fati” <- see, if i look those words up, i’ll get spoiled, so i must sit tight and wonder what they mean, i guess

where’s scully. i need scully at this time. ah! here she is!!! she fell asleep at the desk!!! translating more words!! but kritschgau opens the door and wakes her up, saying they don’t have time for sleep!! wtf are you doing here???? 

he says she has to use her time with mulder wisely. “like you?” injecting him with mysterious medications? <- OHHHH get him!!! he insists that overdosing him was what mulder wanted. yeah. suuuuure.

he claims mulder was infected with an alien virus. and now he is proof of their existence. so i guess he has started believing since we last saw him.

“well, whatever it is, it’s killing him. and we have to get it out of him” “you destroy this, and i’ll destroy you” <- bro, she WILL shoot you. it’s not even a question. and frankly at this point in time, i want to see it happen.

the phone rings… and he walks away, having contributed nothing to the conversation.

nooo!! it’s skinner saying mulder disappeared!!! oh, she’s gonna kill someone.

there were GUARDS here. but the nurse claims his mother checked him out??

OHHHH, skinner does NOT want to be involved!!! she clocks that he is not saying something and he admits to being in a compromised position- the less he knows the better.

bro is still chilling on the beach in his head. oh shit, he wrote this episode with chris carter. well. i don’t know what to expect. i know that man can write an ep, but chris carter is hit or miss.

is that his child self walking up to him? his imagined future baby? who is this... AUGH. the baby talks in CSM’s voice... NOOO.

he wakes up in handcuffs while CSM drives him…. somewhere…. in the rain. CSM says his doctors worked on him. “at some point, i realized that if the syndicate didn’t kill you, the FBI would. if the FBI didn’t kill you, your own misguided heroism would. there’s really no way out for you” <- ohhh… my heart is racing. i’m lowkey forgetting to breath. cannot tell if this episode will be a masterpiece or a train wreck.

he says mulder needs to just disappear. become a man without a name, like him. but he’ll learn how to enjoy life’s simpler pleasures.

he’s gonna set him up with some fake life and diana, huh. i see what’s going on here. and i DON’T LIKE IT.

he wants to tell scully. but CSM says he cannot. because he is entering a witness protection program. and he offers him a cigarette. “i don’t smoke” “maybe now you do”

poor scully….. poor, poor scully…. at her apartment…. but someone approaches!

she gets her gun. i feel like she looks different, but i can’t explain why. like, her face. am i tripping? is her makeup different this season?

she finds someone and holds him at gunpoint. OMG!!! IT’S ALBERT!!!!!! the best guy to see in this situation, tbh!! he has bandages on his head. is there hope for mulder?? because albert had the same illness he did, right? did they find a cure?

he says she must find him before something happens. for the sake of us all.

hmm. the alien colonization plan must be close. they must be trying to take him away so he can't somehow stop it.

CSM gives mulder keys to a house. he says this is his new life. “you can drive away right now. drive back to scully and your x files and your imminent death. i wouldn’t be surprised if you did. but i think you should take a look around” <- ohhh…. my heart is RACING…. everything is so tense

and CSM walks away. 

it’s a nice little house. i'll give him that.

scully is looking at surveillance footage… the cameras from the hospital were covered up when he went missing!!! they can see his mom talking to someone!!! someone with a cigarette!!! WHICH ONLY MEANS ONE THING IN THIS SHOW!!! what does she know?!

mulder opens the door to the house. it seems empty. he calls out asking if anyone is home…. poor guy is still in his hospital gown. and the fridge is filled with sunflower seeds. this makes him laugh.

HUH??? is that DEEP THROAT??? he’s gagged. he can’t believe it. scully saw him get shot!!! but deep throat says he’s just very relaxed. 

so they faked his death??? for 6 seasons????????? 

or is mulder tripping? he can’t believe it. he felt responsible for his death. “yes, along with scully’s sister and the man you thought was your father and duane barry and even scully’s mysterious illness, and on and on and on. you can let go of all that guilt” <- oh yeah. this was very clearly a trick of some kind before, but now it is even more evidently a trick. but fuck, if the angst of it all isn’t tasty. the concept of that ancient guilt of his being washed away. MMMM!

deep throat explains that they’re puppets in a master plan. and that he’s suffered enough- he should enjoy his life. 

deep throat has a wife and daughters, and he hopes that mulder will visit them for dinner. which is a lot to unpack.

bro gets lots of sunflower seeds and passes out. and dreams of that child again. his sandcastle is knocked down, and he tells the boy it’s okay; he can build it again.

now he’s in bed. and the door opens. he’s still cuffed!!! AW FUCK, and it’s DIANA. in a sultry dress. she unlocks his handcuffs. and strokes his chest. and he kisses her. FADE TO BLACK. the FUCK is going on??????

scully calls his mother. and leaves a message. because she did not pick up. what is she doing...

she gets a package from someone at the FBI…. it’s a book of native american legends. and the writing she was trying to translate!! it matches what is on the book’s cover!!

AH! the anasazi!!! “an entire indian culture vanishes without a trace” <- LIKE CSM SAID!! 

she calls skinner…. and asks if he sent the book. “it explains everything that i saw in africa… using the same symbols that i found on the ship” but my queen! he can’t tell you about it even if he did send it!!!

but i don’t think he did… and she goes on about a mass extinction. they think mulder's illness is a gift. that protects them against a coming plague. skinner hangs tf up. which did kind of make me laugh.

she goes to figure out wtf is going down in skinner's office, and even though his secretary tries very bravely to stop him, she hears him moan and barges in…. WHAT DID THEY DO TO HIM??

AHHHHH!!! she sees hairy krycek leave with his weird medical device!! and he pulls the fire alarm to get everyone out before she can catch him!!!! the rat bastard!!

mulder is at his new house, getting the mail. diana comes out. he says everything is perfect- too perfect. what about his commitments, he asks? she says his commitments are CHILDISH. WTF???

WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK???? she says he needs to BECOME A FATHER??????????

what is going on. guys. i’m serious... WHAT is going on. i don’t like it. mom, i’m scared. please come pick me up.

he says that they only slept together one time, it's pretty sudden to decide they need to have kids…. and he’s obviously freaked tf out, because it’s CSM who is arranging all of this!! the devil himself!! but she says oh, we'll go visit him after breakfast :)

girl, i’m scared.

scully knocks on kritschgau’s door. she knows he told someone about mulder… but he promises he didn’t. she sees his computer… and he’s hacked into her files!!!! he was having the NIH analyze all of the genome data they found!!! 

he says it proves he’s become biologically alien. and she deletes them all. what is this guy doing!!!!!!!

diana and mulder go to visit CSM……. he says he has three grandkids and mulder's sister. who has been living here all along. 

they lock eyes. she runs up and hugs him. 

AH, FUCK!! it seems that he’s been imagining this the whole time!!! because now we see his naked body is laying on some sort of panel with probes attached to it!!! i guess that's a relief, though. i didn't want to have to deal with diana/mulder children in canon.

but CSM claims he had such high hopes for his son… he never imagined “the depth of his capacity for suffering”

hey. guys what the FUCK is going on? i almost don’t want to take notes. i just want to watch it all and see what happens. because i’m still not very pleased…..

and fucking diana is watching him on the table!!!!!! she wonders what he dreams of. and CSM says it must be of simpler things. “dreams are all he has now”

FUCKING DIANA, GET OUT OF THE FBI. “bum a cigarette, agent fowley?” <- GET HER ASS, SCULLY!!!! 

they’re gonna fight it out. “maybe before you go around blaming everyone you can find for what’s happened to mulder, you could think about what you could’ve done to prevent it” <- WOAH. JESUS CHRIST. what an absolutely horrible thing to say. scully, we need to kill her. 

scully doesn’t move. she says to think of mulder's promise back when they met at the academy. and think of how he would bust his ass to save you. and diana walks away.

the doctors with CSM are talking about how mulder has become immune to the viral apocalypse…. but he might not survive the procedure. then he will suffer a hero’s fate, says CSM.

FUCK! he dreams of getting married to diana. of going to the hospital for her delivery. of their kids and growing gray. of her death. crying at her coffin. CSM grabbing his shoulder.

but in reality, he's still laying on that table. diana is stroking his face, while CSM says she shouldn’t think of the man, but the sacrifice he will give to the world. CSM thinks he would have chosen to become alien. and she strokes his face again.

(fuuuuck.... CSM as god.... mulder as his son... the sacrifice to the world... your motifs... i'm picking up on them. chris carter saw a bible and he said "this needs to be in my show")

elderly dream mulder is talking to CSM. with the very silly makeup. he knows about the boy on the beach. “i’ve seen him thousands of times”- but he’s never figured out what the child wants him to see. 

the kid builds a UFO out of sand…… and he rips it up. saying it was mulder's. he was supposed to help him.

scully goes to her apartment, and albert is there again. he says she is running out of time. and he suggests looking for mulder in her heart.

“are you asking me to pray?” he kneels down with her. “there are more worlds than the one you can hold in your hand” <- GODDDD.

okay. scully and albert are praying together. it’s very touching. but somewhere else, they’re also stripping down CSM as he is to get infused with mulder’s alien DNA or something. it’s not a pretty sight. “i hope you see the poetry in this, diana” and she says he might kill his son!! so she truly believes his claim, huh?

aughhhhhh…… i can’t watch this……. 

mulder wakes up. he won’t stay under. he’s looking at diana. she walks away. where is she going……..

in his mind palace dreamscape thing, he’s old as hell with CSM sitting nearby. who hasn’t aged. he says samantha died five years ago. “what about deep throat?” “we’ve been over this. he’s dead” <-what a cruel thing, to remind him of everyone he has lost in his old age as he forgets...

CSM says that scully is dead, and he starts to cry. it is not lost on me that it is her being gone that makes him weep. “it’s time for you to let go. they’re waiting for you. if you let go” but he won’t close his eyes………. until he does. 

i’m so sad. wtf.

CSM opens the blinds to look into the outside world of this dreamscape, and the world is surrounded by an apocalypse. CGI war everywhere. it’s aged poorly and makes me laugh as it snaps me out of what is going on. the UFOs…… they fly over……. girl…..

maybe I need a smoke break. thought about that???

but in the real world, someone is burning files!!! so many files!!! they shot kritschgau!!!!! it’s krycek!!!!!

and an envelope is tossed under scully’s door- poor scully, who fell asleep on the floor, she must have been praying... and albert isn't with her

the card!!! is it diana’s card?!!! to get into that lab where they're testing on him? she runs out……

they’re taking all kinds of things from mulder in surgery, and i simply cannot look. but scully scans the card…… and he imagines her coming to his dreamscape bedside!!!! in his very old age!!! 

she’s mad at him!!! she calls him a traitor!! a coward!!! “you’re not supposed to die mulder- not here. not in a comfortable bed with the devil outside” 

he says there was no mission; no aliens. she tells him to get up and fight. he’s so confused. he’s crying. asking where scully is. calling out for her.

she finds him, in real life, laying on the table after the surgery….. she whispers to him. tells him to wake up. his eyes open up. he’s breaking through the years of lies!!!!! her tears fall on his face!!!

“you…. help me” 

OH. SHE HOLDS HIM CLOSE….

let's just sit with that for a minute.

one week later…… she goes to his apartment. oh! he was going to see her in the office!!!! she scolds him for this. "no work". his head is covered in bandages and he has a yankees cap on top.

he says he was coming to work to tell her that albert is dead. he’d been in a coma for 2 weeks. “there was…. no way he could have been in your apartment” “he was there. w-we prayed together.” (mulder purses his lips and nods) “mulder, i don’t believe that. it’s impossible” “is it any more impossible than what you saw in africa, or what you saw in me?” “i don’t know what to believe anymore. mulder, i was so determined to find a cure to save you that i could deny what it was that i saw, and now i don’t even know… i don’t know. i don’t know what the truth is, i don’t know who to listen to. i don’t know who to trust” (she’s crying) (and i might be crying, too, mind your business)

DIANA FOWLEY WAS FOUND MURDERED THIS MORNING??

“i never trusted her… but she helped save your life just as much as i did. she gave me that book. it was her key that led me to you. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i know she was your friend” (they hug)

god.... i'm torn between being so sad that scully thinks so little of herself that she actually claims diana helped save him as much as he did, and how kind she is to tell him she is deeply sorry even after how much suffering diana caused

“scully, i was like you once. i didn’t know who to trust. then i… i chose another path… another life, another fate, where i found my sister. the end of my world was unrecognizable and upside down. there was one thing that remained the same.”

so it's as if he considers the alternate dreamscape life to have actually happened. like he saw what would happen if he did make that choice. that's very interesting that he takes the responsibility, saying he chose another path when it never really happened.

OH. HE HAS HER FACE IN HIS HANDS…. 

“you… you were my friend, and you told me the truth. even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant… my touchstone”

OHHHHHH, HE SAID THE LINE THAT EVERYONE SAYS IN THEIR TAGS WHEN THEY REBLOG AN MSR GIF!!!!!!!!!!!

“and you are mine”

AND THEY KISS???

wait. not for real. she kisses his forehead. the angle made it look like a real kiss on the lips for a second, but she was kissing him on his forehead bandages…. for a solid ten seconds. and he smiles. she puts his baseball cap back on. and cups his face. runs her fingers over his lips. 

he closes his eyes. like he’s realizing something.

he sees that little boy…. and they’re building the spaceship together.

the end.

hey guys. i need to go scream for a minute to decompress.

wait. i need to set my phone down and go leave the room. 

i had to go walk around for ten minutes. i had to brush my teeth and do my skincare before bed in total silence. i had to drink straight from the sink and let the coolness of the water surprise me. and then the mouthwash burned a bit. i had to to rub the nice lotion on my hands and put myself back into my body after that.

fuck me.

okay. so, first thoughts: i’m not buying that he’s CSM’s kid. i think it’s too heavy-handed, plot wise. the bad guy is secretly the good guy’s father! it’s been done before. we've all seen star wars. it’s not super satisfying. it’s a fun thought to bounce around in your head and imagine what would happen if it WERE true, but i just… don’t think they’re telling the truth. maybe CSM and his mom had an affair, but i don’t think he’s the result of that. i think it’s a convenient lie to lull him into complacency. and even if he hold diana that it’s true, that doesn’t mean it is. this is CSM. lying is his career. and he went pro. to the major leagues. he also lied about being samantha's father before. i see no reason to believe him.

he's gotta hang on until 23andme is invented so they can discover the truth.... cause god knows CSM could manipulate a traditional paternity test.

okay. so. the alien stuff. he was infected with the virus two years ago (in the gulag, correct?) and he gained some sort of immunity to it as a result, which may or may not be because his brain was going sicko mode. i guess i have some questions on the logistics of that, but none that i think can actually be answered by canon. so the dormant virus went haywire when he saw the rubbings on the letters? that makes no sense, but okay. and then somehow he became alien and then CSM took the alien parts out of him and put them into himself. so now CSM has the immunity. then how did he read his mind at the start? was it a trick? i'm guessing that mulder is no longer psychic, though, since they took the alien part out of him, but maybe now CSM is- which would be very dangerous. or maybe he already was? because he already was doing the mind reading? didn't he undergo the DNA splicing procedure when they thought they were going to have the whole alien colonizing thing last season? so what is the sense in doing it again?

sighs. i just don’t know.

let’s talk about scully, i say, and this is something i could have said any day for the last ten months and it would be true. this was a major turning point for her. being so desperate that she abandoned her own ideals. but, at the same time she began to discard the strict notion of science because she felt so entirely lost, she did also turn into herself and what she knew- praying with albert. turning to the belief she’s had in her all along that has never ran contradictory in her mind. but albert might not have even been there. a messenger from the divine, perhaps? a hallucination from lack of sleep? an angel? i guess we’ll never really know. 

but… man. i need some time to sink my teeth into that. 

her faith in science has been tested before, and to have everything explained by an alien civilization isn’t necessary in contradiction with science, just something not understood by it yet. she’s mentioned that point before. but also… she’s had shades of belief in the past. shoving the doll in the microwave in chinga. gibson telling her he knows she believes, she just doesn’t want to. that same exchange happened like, 3 other times in s6. so no, she’s not a full convert to the extraterrestrial. but she’s seen things she can’t understand and doesn’t know if it came from her own desperation to believe or if that is the Truth, and what is the Truth, anyway, and how can it be known?

what makes me really sad is how she kept repeating she was a failure for being unable to save him, and then at the end, her saying that diana saved him as much as she did broke my heart. diana put him into that situation. deciding at the last minute that she’s too cowardly to go through with it or has some change of heart that could almost be seen as mercy can’t be called saving him. she put him on that table and helped carve him up. we can’t give her equal credit for saving his life when his life wouldn't have been in danger without her meddling.

and for scully to think that makes me feel so sad. it’s as if she thinks that all she has is her science, and if she can’t understand that, what does she have? but the answer is she has her instincts, her kindness, her talent, her brains, her courage… for her to say that diana saved him as much as she did- god, i just think she must feel so guilty, so terrible, and not see her own worth. i will choose to interpret this line as a momentary exhale, a brief showing of her wounds which she normally keeps so tightly wrapped up. a moment of weakness. an indication of her lack of direction and her sheer desperation. because something i love about this show is that scully knows her value. i love that she knows she deserves to take up space at the table and never questions that. but maybe, when you’re questioning god and the universe and what it means to be alive and other unshakable truths, your own self-worth can get caught in the mix. maybe that can get shaken up, too.

mulder…. being lulled into complacency with the idea of forgiveness, starting fresh. a baptismal cleanings of sins via the suburbs. to know that he wasn’t responsible for everything he blames himself for; a reality where his family was whole. his fantasy of a normal life. damn. if that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about his character… what he wants, what motivates him. but what tells you even more is the fact that he isn't satisfied- not really. he feels like that little boy watching the sandcastle get destroyed. and he almost goes through with it and never wakes up. until dream scully calls him to action. he cannot look away when she calls. he knows that she is reasonable and truthful. and that no matter how lovely this fake life is, it isn’t real. he can’t turn away from his commitments. no matter what fantasies fill his head. 

also. i knew he wanted kids so bad. but to see it in the dreamscape........ man. (gazes into the distance)

FUCK. i’m so mad about the whole diana thing. that she went along with it all… claiming to love him, and that they could be together. and having to see him dream a domestic future with me obviously pissed me tf off. like. shaking like a chihuahua levels of rage. did he really trust her that whole time? is that why he dreamed about it? is that the future he really saw for them in real life- even though he said he loved scully- or was the dreamscape carved up by CSM somehow? but sometimes, dreams are not wish fulfillment. sometimes random stuff happens in your dreams. everything else seemed so purposeful as his ideal reality, though, i can't help but wonder if that is truly how he felt- that he saw a marriage and kids and growing old with her. and why would that be?

she was touching his face, saying she loved him as she worked to kill him. and how nasty she was to scully……… and i'm not off-base in the implication that she assaulted him in the last episode, right? taking off her shirt and going into his room while he was violently ill and could barely speak? the writing was pretty clear on the wall there. i have been known to miss undertones, but that was clear to me.

usually, i love the female characters that everyone hates. if other people are writing dissertations on how much a fictional woman sucks, i am usually picking up a pitchfork and defending her honor. but i can’t do this here. i don’t even find her worth writing a dissertation about because her character was so flat. i will say that they at least gave her some dimension this episode. so shoutout to the writing team for that, i guess.

hmm. and CSM. driving him away. saying he was proud of him as a son. it just…. mmm. i don’t know if it’s not believable or if it’s not personally satisfying to me. what was his mother doing with him in that waiting room? does CSM believe what he claims? does mulder? does his mother? was he really reading his mind at the start? is his character able to kill thanos or something? 

i am very worried about mrs. mulder, however. she might be in very serious danger. she didn't pick up scully's calls, and she was there with CSM when they kidnapped him... it is not looking good for her.

i don’t really care for the alien plot stuff, so CSM getting mulder’s alien DNA removed and put into him was just kinda weird to me. same with all of the other alien stuff. the writings, the biblical imagery, the apocalypse. the appropriation of anasazi and other Indigenous legends, which feels in poor taste in the modern light. it just doesn’t really interest me that much. in this show, i like the vague spookiness and the interpersonal relationships and the search for the Truth and the old, old guilt in these characters, but the aliens themselves do not appeal to me very much. so. yeah. i guess i just feel (shrugs shoulders) about it, you know?

it feels like there is still an untapped wellspring of things i need to say within me.

how about we discuss skinner? telling scully that he is compromised and that he cannot help her. but she still calls him and explains about the book, because it's him- and this is why kritschgau is killed- because someone hears what she says. and she bursts in to find him when she has been expressly told not to, and he is slumped over in pain, krycek having used his remote controller to hurt him. so he was just blaming himself for mulder’s accidental overdose at the hands of kritschgau, saying it was his responsibility. and then things get worse… but they get better.

i want to explore that space of the getting better. of him hearing that they made it out despite it all. does it fill him with hope? but also, is it tinged with dread? because he knows there is more ahead? but mulder knows about him and krycek and the illness now- can they somehow find a cure? is that the next big project to embark upon? will he forgive himself?

kritschgau… idk what his deal was. he hacked into scully’s files and sent them to the NIH because he claimed he wanted to crack into the human genome, but it seems all he really wanted was to backup his claims as whistleblower. why did mulder pick him to ask for help, beyond him knowing the drug that helped him out? why did he threaten scully and break into the FBI? it felt like a really weird unresolved plot point.

what about barnes? what about the dude that came back to life and killed him? what about amina? i liked her!!! a lot!!! what about the ship? is it still there? is any of it still there? can any of it be explained? was it all a fake somehow? or was it real, and the aliens just have really weird priorities?

gah! it makes my head hurt to think about for longer than 5 seconds. and i know that we will never really know, which is frustrating. we are slowly dripped these little plot points that never add up to a whole picture, and it drives me CRAZY. 

but how beautiful it is to know someone so fully that you can know them when you know nothing else. when your whole world is turned upside down, you can see them clearly. that sort of soul bond. to kiss someone’s bandages. to be a touchstone. to cradle their face in your hands and hold the whole world in them. 

fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK me. 

good angst here. incredible MSR. but i’m not sure what i would rank my overall satisfaction with this arc. it is an upheaval of everything we have known so far when it comes to our characters. scully, a believer? mulder, an alien (formerly?) and a bastard? skinner, someone who cannot be trusted? i will need some time to process all of these changes. there was a sense of finality and not going back, of every moment being incredibly important and life-altering moving forward. of no return. which happens in some episodes. and they always leave me with a strange feeling. sadness, perhaps? of the loss of what once was? of simplicity?

i think that the grand alien plot can take me out of the simple human connections that make the show so good. it can elevate them to a point that is hard to wrap your brain around and fathom. can make it so complicated for us mere mortals to understand. when dealing with the end of the world in a story, you must zero in on the mundane, the human, so we don’t get loss in an endless series of nearly avoided apocalypses without having a reason to feel a relief, as the audience, that the world didn’t blow up this time. and while there certainly are the essential human elements at play that ground such a fantastical story- when it veers away from focusing solely on that, it can make me aware of the fact that i am watching TV from a specific genre with a specific set of tropes rather than being immersed in the experience so wholly like i am when the plots are more character-driven and down to earth. i think that’s just how the nature of sci-fi/action stuff goes, at least for me. i’m not moved by the idea that aliens are god and left us messages. i’m moved by the humans who discovered that grappling with losing each other and comprehending their reunion. i’m moved by their tears and their blood and their lips touching foreheads, hands touching backs. you get what i’m saying?

fuuuuck. where do you go from here? there has to be some fic that takes place after this episode. 

i’m waxing poetic. because my heart yearns for a softness! and maybe i’m expecting something that the genre doesn’t deliver, but fuck. you need relief after endless punches to the gut and to the gut again and to the head and then to the gut once more. you drive these characters through horrible thing after horrible thing and i, the viewer, need to come up for air- which is why s4 was so tough for me. i felt like there was no air to breath. mytharc episodes will also plunge you underwater. and then, of course, the show is written pretty inconsistently, so whether or not you’ll get the relief in the form of lightheartedness and banter and teasing and fluffy stuff afterward is never guaranteed.

so. thus ought to conclude the diana saga- but who knows? it’s hard to say. maybe she didn’t actually die. like dream deep throat. and it was a shock to see deep throat again. a nice little treat for the viewers. with his wife and kids. 

hmm. despite typing all of that up, i still feel like i have so much more to say. but what is it? it’s a yearning for an epilogue i will never be provided. 

i will say, this episode made me lowkey want to proceed with my plan to not watch beyond s7. i know that i probably will end up going through with all of it… but. my heart was racing!! my feelings were feeling things!!! gaaaah! i need to be sedated. 

"my constant" fuck.

i just realize i wrote all of those words about an alien show. which is fine. i don’t ever half ass anything. 

need the fic where scully goes to his apartment after work and she makes blueberry pancakes in his kitchen and she catches him up on the office gossip since he went on leave and they catch each other's eyes for a liiiiiittle too long.

[robin-evry]

TWST with Acheron!Yuu. Declared by the mirror as "nothing" during the ceremony which attracted pitiful stares towards them coupled with the fact that they look like a lost wet puppy. They constantly forget things and is in desperate need of a GPS (grim is taking up the role of their functional braincell in order to get to class I fear).

Ourgh the boys seeing their magicless Acheron!Yuu shatter Malleus' dream in a single slash out of nowhere and finding out their true form (the white/red acheron on ult) is slowly fading away.

Malleus low-key about to double overblot cuz his first friend is in a state equivalent to dying: their color, sense of taste, and memories fading away, but they choose to push others to the light because to be an emanator of Nihility is to continue on against meaninglessness itself. 🥲

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐔𝐔 ⛩️☔

A drifter claiming to be a Galaxy Ranger. Her true name is unknown. She walks the cosmos alone, carrying with her a long sword.

During the opening ceremony Acheron yuu was about to release a slash with their blade but the coffin was soon open deciding to withhold their blade and investigate first.

Acheron!Yuu is not one to waste words. They prefer silence, speaking only when necessary, and often observe situations from the sidelines before acting.

When it was there to be selected for the dorm, the mirror was unable to identify any magical source from them so they kept searching but unfortunately it started to shake and cracks started to form when it was searching for magic in Acheron yuu soul it was decided that they were magicless.

Regardless many students like Lilia, malleus, Crowley and others could feel another worldly present with you as if instead of magic it was something else. Lilia was able to sense the sleeping abyss inside of them and tried to keep it lowkey with them to make sure not to wake it up, one of the biggest hints of Acheron!yuu was the alias of them.

Even then they decided to keep their true self away from others fearing they will be affected by the nihillity or would be better off rather than knowing.

Crowley tried to confiscate Acheron yuu blade but at night he was plagued by unimaginable nightmares resorting to giving back Acheron!yuu blade in exchange for not bringing it to school and releasing it from its sheath.

Vil once told them that they would look absolutely amazing as a model and will try to convince you to join the gig once in a lifetime and when they got back waiting for their answers Acheron!yuu unfortunately forgot

Due to them being an emanator of nihility or in other words a self annihilator their identity would soon disappear as well as their mind, their sense of taste, memories, and mind would crumble slowly until they're nothing but a walking corpse.

Due to their numbness of taste they're unable to taste the food that are in nrc and the good thing about it is that they are able to withstand Lilia's cooking which caused a questioning among the students when ever or not they're human or not.

Every time there's an overblot they will only release a portion of their power fearing a full scale attack would be too much and can cause death of the person that got over blotted.

During the dwarf mine ace, deuce and grim witness Acheron!yuu unsheathing their weapon and their entire body turn into a mix of white and red as well as their blade with one slash the monster was dude in an instant not leaving any trace of it being alive.

No matter the situation, they never waver. Whether facing headstrong dorm leaders or unpredictable students, they remain steadfast.

Though they seem distant, Acheron!Yuu possesses a strong sense of justice, particularly against corruption and tyranny. They don’t tolerate unfairness and will step in when necessary, Causing a disagreement between riddle.

There are rumors that they come from another world, but they never confirm nor deny it. Their presence feels both real and unreal, as if they walk between two worlds.

They would usually attend the dismonia dorm to spar with sebek and silver, sometimes Lilia plus they seem to always be able to win. They ask them if they can teach them some sword techniques but Acheron!yuu isn't sure.

During chapter 7 when malleus put the entire sage island to sleep, Acheron!yuu would release a slash that managed to cut down malleus spell and destroy the dream world even leaving a giant slash mark on the skies of the dismonia dorm.

Instantly everyone is hyper aware of what Acheron!yuu is capable of and when needing explanation from the others they replied with it's better for them not to know where this power originated from.

Even after explaining the nihillity towards the first years and others saying that it's pointless because they are already on their way towards being mindless walking corps many would incense wanting to save them.

Styx would start to wonder whether or not there are a threat or not after trying to calculate the possibility limits of their ability it's better not try to wake up the dormat abyss sleeping inside of them if not the world would be at stake, idia was already having suspicion towards them due to their alias being Acheron name after the river of the dead.

Acheron!yuu also work as someone to bring back lost souls towards the after life at night they would walk and bring dead souls towards their final resting place.

[sirfrogsworth]

"REAL MEN OPEN THEIR OWN JARS!"

"What about the disabled?"

"Oh, right. Them."

The disabled are forever an afterthought to the manly conservative brain. Imagine such a low bar that your self worth is based on jar opening instead of not being a giant ableist dipshit.

I opened jars for my dad because he had arthritis and I was born with gorilla strength—allowing me to lift heavy things for very short periods of time. And it does feel good to be able to help with a jar here and there.

But my dad was such a positive masculine role model despite his inability to open the grape jam. When he became disabled and couldn't work on cars any longer, my mom got a job and became the breadwinner. He did not complain. He did not feel emasculated. He took over all of the domestic duties for our house. He learned to cook and clean and do the laundry. And, yes, we had to suffer some pink shirts and inedible food, but he worked hard and figured it out. He ended up being a better cook than my mom eventually. Though she never liked the way he washed her bras. (To be fair, she had OCD and impossible standards.)

A real man helps his family in whatever capacity is needed. He doesn't put his self worth into acts of strength, but acts of love.

[poetpony6890]

I think you smell very warm, a fire on a summer night, a kitchen when you know something good is cooking. I think you might overthink things before you turn them in. I think you want to show your parents that whatever your pursing is a real career. I think you have a messenger bag with two pins on it, both given to you. Your room is organized, but you think it’s a mess. A lot of people love you and you know it, because your always loving.

@crushed-gh0st @grrrl-help @dayque @shadow-likethehedgehog @garvalhaminho @giyeh-park @fjzkdhsx @fredericklaudiathethirtysixth @balladofbells @bluemeetgrey @jonathanspenguinboxers @nattbolt @perpetualprocrastinationisme @whaliensdream @mariskila @greekmythstan @witchlingcirce @mikaherondale

Do me 😉

Sorry if u don’t follow me and I tagged u

New ask game:

Reblog if you want your followers to tell you what your trademark ™️ is. Like, what’s that thing that really identifies you.

[jyeoulzhu]

skill issue

summary . y/n, a streamer, gets destroyed in overwatch by karina, a top player. what starts as playful rivalry turns into something more, ending with karina soft-launching their relationship on stream.

pairing . yu jimin (karina) x male reader

note . inspired by someone's work here on tumblr i forgot their user and i can't find it anymore. also a karina oneshot.. so if you know them please tag them 😓🙏

y/n had always been the type to chill at the local comshop with his boys, grinding ranked games and talking shit like it was their second home. it was their routine, their escape from the chaos of school and whatever else life threw at them. but tonight… tonight was different.

the atmosphere was tense as y/n, mingyu, intak, and juyeon locked in their heroes on overwatch. the four of them were known in the comshop—decent players, occasional streamers on twitch, and absolute menaces when it came to voice comms. but this match? this was pure hell.

the opposing widowmaker was untouchable. every peek was met with an instant headshot. every attempt to dive her ended in death. they couldn’t even step out of spawn without getting sniped.

headshot. headshot. headshot.

“who the hell is this guy?” y/n groaned as his character dropped dead for the tenth time.

“nah, bro, this ain’t normal,” mingyu said, visibly stressed.

“i can’t even step out of spawn,” juyeon added.

the chat in their stream was going wild.

—

chat: WHO TF IS KRNXP????

chat: they’re farming y’all like npcs 💀

chat: uninstall, bro

—

y/n leaned into his mic. “yo, if you’re watching this… dm me. i just wanna talk.”

seconds later, the enemy widowmaker hit another headshot.

[krnxp] (widowmaker): stay mad.

y/n stared at his screen, jaw dropped.

“bro. she replied. she fucking replied,” y/n whispered, eyes wide with panic.

mingyu screamed. “SHE??? KRNXP IS A GIRL???”

“wait… no… don’t tell me this is—”

“karina,” juyeon said, dead serious. “top player. undefeated. literal legend.”

y/n sat there in disbelief. he’d been simping for karina for months. and now? he just got farmed by her.

“holy shit… i just got violated by my comfort streamer,” y/n whispered.

mingyu immediately grabbed his phone. “NO WAY. SHE JUST COOKED YOU ON MAIN.”

“nah, you can’t let this slide,” intak said, hyping him up.

“1v1 her,” juyeon added, completely serious.

y/n blinked. “are you guys insane? i’d get smoked.”

“exactly,” juyeon smirked. “get humbled, then bag her.”

—

the 1v1 lobby loaded.

“you nervous?” karina’s voice echoed through the comms, cool and unbothered.

y/n muted his mic and screamed into his hoodie.

“bro, she’s flirting. i’m gonna pass out,” he whispered to his friends.

y/n’s hands were literally trembling on his mouse. this wasn’t just any 1v1. this was karina. the girl who single-handedly destroyed him and had been living rent-free in his head for months.

“you good over there?” karina’s voice echoed through the comms, smooth and low.

y/n choked on air.

“me? yeah. totally fine,” he lied, already spiraling.

the match started.

three seconds in, y/n peeked. instant headshot.

he stared blankly at the killcam.

karina giggled. “cute.”

y/n’s soul officially left his body.

—

chat: LMFAOOOO

chat: HE’S FOLDED ALREADY

chat: nah bro’s in love

—

“oh my god,” y/n muttered, fully spiraling.

karina giggled. “you’re cute when you panic.”

y/n’s brain: system error.

—

after getting absolutely obliterated 20-3, y/n was done.

“you let me get three kills out of pity, huh?” he asked in defeat.

karina smirked. “maybe.”

y/n wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

intak threw his headset. “NAH THIS IS INSANE.”

—

after that night, karina started showing up in y/n’s streams.

“yo, why is krnxp in our game again?” mingyu asked during one match.

“nah, bro… she’s stalking you,” intak teased.

y/n? he was already in love.

—

the slow burn was real.

karina would randomly hop into y/n’s ranked games, casually carrying while y/n tried (and failed) to impress her.

“dude, why do you keep playing genji if you can’t aim?” she teased.

“i’m trying to look cool…” y/n mumbled.

—

one night, y/n was streaming when the door behind him creaked open.

“yo, who just came in?”

everyone expected it to be one of the boys.

but no.

karina casually walked into frame… wearing his hoodie.

chat exploded.

—

chat: HELLO??????

chat: WE WON. WE SOFT LAUNCHED.

chat: Y/N, YOU’RE COOKING.

—

y/n ended stream in pure panic.

“bro, you just exposed us to 10k viewers,” y/n said.

karina smirked, stealing his drink. “should’ve locked your door.”

[asha-mage]

I think the philosophical difference between Wheel of Time and Game of Thrones's class politics is best shown in how they depict their servant characters.

Take Lini and Lars as really good examples: they are a nurse and cook respectively, and lack any sort of structural power or protection at all, something they both are very aware of. But despite their relatively low place in society they are still principled, intelligent, women who the narrative treats with a lot of respect. Lars's acts of mercy and courage come up repeatedly- from refusing to be part of what she sees as unjust punishments of novices in The Dragon Reborn, to smuggling Siuan, Leane and Min to safety in The Shadow Rising, to being ready to break Egwene free of her imprisonment herself in Knife of Dreams. Keyly, Lars does all this not out of any loyalty to other more powerful characters, but entirely because of her own sense of right and wrong. She has no concern for the shifts in Tower politics because that is completely out of her control and she knows it. Rather she makes choices based entirely on what she thinks is right, refusing to be complicit in something she thinks is wrong and taking huge risks to do what she can for others whenever the opportunity presents itself.

In the same vein Lini, while personally loyal to Morgase and her family, is one of the few people in Morgase's life who is willing to treat her as a human being first and a Queen second: speaking her mind even when she knows it will upset Morgase, giving honest advice and wisdom, and generally refusing to acknowledge the huge power gap in their relationship- and Morgase not only allows this but clearly values it, even when it makes her angry, because with Lini she doesn't have to have any pretense, and she can trust the sincerity of Lini's words in a way she can't with courtiers and other rulers. When Lini helps Morgase escape the palace in The Fires of Heaven, she isn't doing it out of fealty to her Queen the way the rest of the team is. She is doing it because she cares for Morgase as a individual, and as a girl she helped raise to adulthood. As they continue on the run, the nuance and complexities of their relationship are explored more heavily- particularly after Morgase abdicates, and Lini's loyalty endures, because it was never about Morgase's throne or her power, but her as a person.

Contrast that with the way Games of Thrones depicts it's servants. The only ones who receive any real depth of character exploration are a few of the House Stark servants, and even then they exist largely as extensions of their masters. Old Nan and Hodor lack agency of their own, and they are not treated as having value by the narrative as independent characters, or having interior lives, motivations, or relationships to complexly explore. Even if we stretch the definition of servant to include a clerical tutor like Septa Mordane and the (presumably) commoner born Knight Rodrik Cassel this picture doesn't improve- because the primary role of both is to suffer and be harmed as a way to hurt other, more important characters.

And this is something you can walk out to pretty much the entire way the two worlds are built. Every time Jordan shows off a new place from Fal Dara to the Waste he remembers to answer the question 'who is cleaning the chamber pots and cooking the meals the sweeping the streets'- and some of his most interesting world building details from the Aiel gai'shain, to the structure of Borderlander's households via the shambayan and shatayan are born of his answers. More over he remembers that those people have humanity: their own wants, needs, and beliefs that are important to them even if they aren't important players in the scope of the narrative. Even if our heroes are stopping at a random inn for a single night, Jodan doesn't forget to show that inn is staffed with people who are going about their own lives entirely independently of the main characters who just wandered in.

By contrast the commoners in Westeros are largely invisible except when they are being impacted by the actions of the noble characters. The idea of the 'small folk' is presented as this nebulous concept, a vaguely homogeneous monolith that in theory is supposed to matter to the nobles but in practice doesn't really- which would an interesting class commentary if the narrative didn't also treat them that way- as if their only real value is being the foundation on which these power struggles are being fought. We're not encouraged to empathize with the cook, or the street sweeper, or the maid gathering laundry because we're not directed to notice them unless they are being a problem, which is exactly how all the nobles in Game of Thrones behave. There's also no nuance or complexity to the relationships between servants and their masters- it is only an expectation of simple obedience, and no energy is ever expended on the relationships between servants at all.

Wheel of Time from the beginning takes the position that everyone maters- maybe not to the fates of nations and the path of destiny, but to themselves and to the story that is being told. Game of Thrones takes the position that only nobles matter and everyone else matters only in relation to them- which for a story ultimately about an aristocratic civil war is fine, but it limits the depth of the world and the ability to say anything meaningful about class or society.

[angelluv16]

The Chorus of Us

ex lando norris x Ginger Spice's daughter!reader x harry styles

✩: They broke up and wrote a heartbreaking song. Through this process, her old friends from F1 were with her. With one specific boy band member getting closer and closer

fc: Crystal Leigh, girls from pinterest

pairing: ex lando norris x Ginger Spice's daughter!reader x harry styles

warnings: swearing, cheating, Lando is an asshole in this

Wanna be added to the taglisg? Click Here

(We shall pretend Harry is on tour, I miss him. Also, Reader is not using horner or her mom's last name, she's using her grandparents )

masterlist

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*few months later*

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yourusername

liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, harrystyles and 2.3M others

yourusername: Was only going to post my natural hair, but why not give you guys a dump😘

tagged: @maxverstappen1 @kellypiquet @alexandrasaintmleux

view all comments

username33: The brown hair Omfg I never knew I needed it.

username34: Uhhhhh who's that man on slide 5 and 7 🤨🤨

yourusername: I don't know what ur talking about🤷‍♀️

christianhorner: 💕💕

username35: Not you casually soft launching on main 😭

username36: I just KNOW Lando is punching the air rn 💀

username37: The brown hair is everything. I’m obsessed. 😩

username38: One Direction vinyl, flowers, and a mystery man… this is a Wattpad plot fr

username39: Not me zooming in on slide 3 like a detective

username40: Not you trying to gaslight us in the comments 💀 we see the TEA

yourusername: I do not know what you mean I've been a saint

username41: 1D vinyl and pasta dates… oh she’s in her healing era 🫶🏽 (or her delulu era idk yet)

yourusername: I'm already healded girlie poo. and rude i'm not delulu

maxverstappen1: The only good Photo on this dump is of me and Kelly

yourusername: Tbh You ruined the photo but oh well

kellypiquet: You look beautiful as always ❤️

yourusername: Have YOU seen Yourself

username42: Not you moving on that fast 💀💀 girl be serious.

username43: Girl it's been months just because she's posting the oppisait gender doesn't mean she's moved on maybe she's going on dates perhaps she's seeing if she can trust someone and plus lando's moved on clearly an no one is talking about that but once she does it's a huge problem. babe get a fucking life and let my girl live her own ❤ by yourusername and harrystyles

alexandrasaintmleux: Miss you pretty girl

yourusername: Miss you more bbg, Meet up soon?

alexandrasaintmleux: Yes yes yes yes yes

usernamer44: You stay acting like the victim when YOU were the problem.

username45: Girl be fucking for real Lando CHEATED ON HER Not the other way around

oscarpiastri: I’m just here for the comments 🍿

yourusername: We stand by that

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liked by harrystyles, kellypiquet, zayn, charlesleclerc, carlossainz55, 2.1M others

yourusername: Happy to announce that after a year of no music (for you) My New single "Tolerate It" is out now everywhere. A big big Shoutout and thank you to @charlesleclerc for playing the piano, love you lots

view all comments

charlesleclerc: Thank YOU for Allowing me to Play the piano for this incredible song. Love love you

username46: I’M SOBBING. This is the breakup anthem I NEEDED

username47: The way Charles is supporting you >>> everyone else 😭

username48: Harry liking this post… yeah, we won today

kellypiquet: This song is pure magic. So proud of you ❤️✨ ❤ by yourusername

username49: Me, a single person with no recent breakup, sobbing like I just got left at the altar 😭

username50: The lyrics???? The vocals????? The pain????? You cooked and left NO crumbs

username51: Why did you personally attack me with this song? What did I do to deserve this??

maxverstappen1: Unreal. Your talent is insane. Congrats!

zayn: This one hits deep. Beautiful work 🙌

alex_albon: On repeat. Over and over

lilymhe: can confirm

username52: you’re only famous because of who you know, not because of talent. Mid at best

username53: Charles playing the piano for this? Thought would play for other artists not this slut

username54: So we’re just not gonna talk about the lyrics that SCREAM Lando??????

harrystyles: ❤️❤️

username55: Lando somewhere punching the air rn

username56: Me pretending this song was written about my imaginary ex 😌

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yourusername

liked by kellypiquet, harrystyles, gerihalliwellhorner, maxverstappen1 and 2.5M others

yourusername: Family time ❤️

view all comments

username57: You radiate happiness here 😭❤️ love seeing you with your people!

username58: Family time >>> everything else. You look so happy, my heart

kellypiquet: I missed you, but I think P did more, she literally did cartwheels when she saw you

maxverstappen1: wow no photos of me?!?

yourusername: I already didn't want to see ur face, what makes you think I want you on my post?

gerihalliwellhorner: Nothing better than being surrounded by love and laughter

yourusername: Love love you lots mama

username59: This is either a PR move or the most effortless flex I’ve ever seen

username60: Meanwhile, I’m in my bed with 3-day-old leftovers. Love that for me

username61: Every single picture is just aesthetic perfection

username62: Your ‘family time’ and my ‘family time’ are NOT the same thing

username63: The way this post could be used as a tourism ad

username64: We get it, your life is perfect 🙄

harrystyles: ❤️

username65: I just cried in my 2008 Honda Civic. Thanks for this

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harryupdates

liked by username1, username20, username41, username100, and 21,785 others

Harry Updates: Singer-songwriter YN YLN was seen at the Harry Styles show in London with four-time world Champion Max Verstappen and his girlfriend, Model Kelly Piquet. Then YN and Harry were spotted entering a restaurant alone. What are your thoughts?

tagged: @yourusername @harrystyles

view all comments

username66: If I don’t wake up to ‘sources say’ articles tomorrow I will be disappointed

username67: Me watching this like it’s a Netflix Original Drama

username68: I know lando is crying in a corner rn

username69: He fumbled the baddest bitch fr

username70: The F1 girlies and the Harry girlies are about to FIGHT in the comments

username71: Meanwhile I’m here struggling to get a text back

username72: If Harry and YN start dating, the internet is going to BREAK

username73: Not me refreshing Twitter every five seconds for updates

username74: I don’t trust Hollywood at all, this is definitely PR

username75: Max and Kelly must have been like, ‘So, should we just… leave them to it or?’

username76: ynis literally living the fanfic life we all dreamed of and I respect her for it

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lnupdates

liked by username100, username783, usernam73, username66, and 12,832 others

lnupdates: In a recent interview, Lando Norris was asked about his past relationship with YN. When questioned if he regrets how things ended, he scoffed before saying, "Regret? No. I mean, I don’t sit around crying about it. Things end for a reason. People move on." When the interviewer pressed further, asking if he ever felt like he let a good thing slip away, Lando shrugged and added, "Maybe she was a great thing. Maybe not. Doesn’t really matter now, does it?" Read the full interview at the link in our story!

view all comments

username77: The way he said ‘Maybe she was a great thing. Maybe not.’ like bro, you sound bitter for someone who doesn’t care

username78: No because the audacity? The nerve? The sheer gall? I just KNOW YN is somewhere sipping her drink, unbothered, while he’s out here pretending he doesn’t regret it

username79: You mean to tell me the boy who wouldn't let her go when she was with him at races or would always say he missed her now "regrets" the relationship and doesn't matter okay dude

username80: He’s acting like he didn’t look at her like she hung the stars every time they were together. This is just embarrassing for him tbh

username81: YN please drop a fire Instagram post ASAP we need to finish this man.

username82: he acts like he wasn't the one cheating lol

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yourusername

liked by harrystyles,kellypiquet,gigihadid,carmenmmundt,christianhorner 12m others

yourusername: Growth looks good on me. Can’t say the same for everyone. 😉

view all comments

username83: holy shit she saw that one comment and said bet

username84: the caption 🤣🤣

username85: Mother is MOTHERING as always!!!

username86: THE SHADEEEE OMG I LOVE IT

username87: She really said ‘I won’ without saying ‘I won’ LMAOOO 😭

username88: If I were him, I simply wouldn’t show my face for months

kellypiquet: What a beautiful human

maxverstappen1: uhhh... what about me

yourusername: bitch get out of here she don't like you

yourusername: thank you ml let's run away together with P

username89: Why do you always have to be shady?? Just be mature

username90: Growth but you’re still posting about the past?? Okay

username91: Oh, she woke up and chose violence but in the most elegant way possible

username92: Healing, glowing, moving on… some people could never

username93: Growth looks good on you, regret looks good on him. Balance

username94: SOMEONE CHECK ON LANDO RN LMFAOOOO

oscarpiastri: He's crying in a corner

carlossainz55: he locked himself in his drivers room

charlesleclerc: Already on it

pierregasly: he's just staring at his phone

maxverstappen1: he doesn't talk to me anymore which I love

lancestroll: he's giving us a death glare I'm soooo scared

username95: WTFFFFFF HAHAH I CAN'T THIS IS ICONIC

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ynharrynews

liked by kellypiquet, username672, username81, maxverstappen1 and 4,793 others

ynharrynews: Y/N and harry styles were spotted getting cozy last night 👀 Sources say the two were ‘inseparable’ all evening.

tagged: @harrystyles @yourusername

view all comments

username96: Omg Are they officially a thing now or just hanging out?

username97: This is giving couple goals but like low-key

username98: Seeing Harry happy makes me happy but also… not ready for all the fans who will lose it

username99: Okay but are we going to ignore the fact that they’ve been hanging out so much recently? It’s gotta be more than casual by now!

username100: Not Kelly and Max Liking this

username101: Honestly, they look so happy together! I’m here for it!

username102: after everything these two have been through, I'm happy they found each other

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yourusername posted a story

{caption 1: ready for the day}

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yourusername

liked by harrystyles, kellypiquet, carlossainz55,oscarpiastri and 2.2m others

yourusername: My Lover boy 🥰🥰

Comments are turned off

Note: Sooo I decided to post this today instead of the 6th chapter for rumor has it because well I haven't written it yet lol But I will start tomorrow and hopefully post it soon. So here is this one meanwhile

Taglist: @anamiad00msday @fulla02 @lottalove4evelyn @greantii

[raleighrador]

I struggle to believe the OP here genuinely believes email is authentic human connection. The only way I can believe them to be genuine is if I assume they’ve literally never spent even 5 minutes inside any kind of professional or corporate environment.

My alternative take, increasingly, would a that people who are so vehemently against generative AI seem to fall into (or across) 3 categories of concern.

1. The environmental impact - honestly totally valid but unfortunately individual consumer decisions will have zero impact on this. There is no level of asceticism any individual is capable of that will actually make a difference and we’re still blowing past 1.5 degrees

I have seen very little of this on tumblr, probably a reflection of the spaces I’m in.

2. It’s going to devastate the labour market - honestly no one is really talking about this enough. It doesn’t matter if AI isn’t as good at coding or the law or whatever as you are or your colleagues are. What matters is that executives at your company will decide that worse code for a fraction of the cost is a good deal.

3. Training involves stealing IP - honestly this is basically a purely legalistic concern. A lot of fair use policies didn’t exclude training because they didn’t know they needed to. It’s not at all clear that what LLMs do is not fair use, in as much as they are sufficiently transformative of the original work. Fair use policies going forward will no doubt explicitly exclude being used for training and that’s fine.

I do see this concern but it’s far less common than…

4. Using AI is lazy or cheating - honestly who cares? It seems to reveal a strange implicit belief that we as consumers or recipients of art or writing or emails are somehow entitled to the effort and struggle of the producer.

If I know the “answer” and what communicates that answer, why is spending 5 minutes writing and email creating more human connection than spending 30 seconds prompting an answer?

I spend most of my time in fandom spaces and especially when it comes to fan fic or fan art there is a very Protestant or Marxist attitude that the labour itself creates the value. That the more you struggle the more worthy your output is.

And that’s just nonsense as a consumer. As a creator, sure, I’m sure many people find it rewarding to have struggled and overcome in the creative process. But that’s their choice and about their experience.

As a consumer, I have no insight into how much effort went into creating anything, and am not entitled to any and couldn’t use if I had it.

Imagine you had 2 cooks. One is well trained and experienced and confident in the kitchen. One is very anxious about cooking and usually defaults to take out. Both of them to decide to make a meal for some anonymous person they will never meet.

Chef 1 is going to produce an objectively better meal, with far less effort than Chef 2.

That is a totally separate consideration to the fact that Chef 1 likely won’t even remember this meal, where Chef 2 will think about how much she learned and grew by putting in the effort.

There are real concerns with gen AI. How much effort they saved or didn’t for the person using them really isn’t one of them.

I think I've figured out why the fact that so many people I know use generative ai to do things like write emails for them bothers me so much is that. Like. You're not even participating in your own life. I get that emails are boring and sometimes even challenging to write but you are communicating with other humans. The words written will represent your ideas and your feelings and you as a person. If you can't be bothered to do that, if you're so far removed from human connection that you don't care if people get the real you or a computer imitating you, then you've already lost. We've all lost.

[justarkive]

THE JEONS : 05

05 : Pork Belly

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics sometimes!

• chapter contents: literally just family fluff. jungkook tries to make pork belly for his little girl and hana DOES NOT WANT IT, bjr shes also lowkey fighting for her life to stay awake, cause when is she not??

• a/n: for the baby police in my asks : yes i know that 1 month olds indeed cannot eat anything apart from milk and my mistake for thinking they could while i wrote this so pls just pretend she is not one month old while reading this.

• taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame @parkinglot-nights (cmnt to be added)

masterlist , series masterlist

You should’ve known better. You really should’ve.

Jungkook on dinner duty is already a red flag, but you were tired, and he looked so confident, so you let him do his thing. Big mistake. Not because he doesn’t cook good - that man cooks really fucking good - but because he’s not so good with… baby friendly dishes.

Hana has just been rudely awakened from her nap, and she’s fighting for her life to stay awake, her tiny body swaying slightly in your arms as you carry her to the kitchen. She’s hungry, she’s sleepy, and most importantly—she’s expecting fine gourmet dining.

Which, in her world, translates to mashed potatoes, baby food, or literally anything that doesn’t require molars.

Instead, she’s greeted with the sight of Jungkook happily plating pork belly and rice.

You pause.

Hana blinks.

“…Pork belly?” you say slowly, watching as Jungkook—completely unfazed—takes a seat at the table.

“Yeah.” He picks up a slab, cuts a generous piece, and plops it directly onto Hana’s high chair tray.

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

You stare at the greasy chunk of meat sitting in front of your six-month-old daughter.

Hana, still half-asleep, just sits there, blinking at the pork belly with the type of slow realization that looks like pure betrayal.

She thought she was about to be fed properly.

She thought she was about to be respected.

She thought she was about to be nourished.

Instead… this.

Jungkook, completely unaware of the culinary crime he has just committed, happily starts eating, stuffing his face like nothing is wrong. Meanwhile, Hana pokes the pork belly once, making a confused little noise.

“Bubububu.”

You, still staring in silence, wait for Jungkook to realize his mistake.

He does not.

Instead, Hana picks up the entire slab of pork belly, her tiny fingers barely able to grip it, the greasy surface slipping in her hand.

She is devastated.

You can see the tears forming.

Her face screams betrayal.

She turns to Jungkook as if to say, “You—my own flesh and blood—have done this to me?”

Jungkook finally looks up, eyes widening. “Baby, no—like this!” He hurriedly picks up his own piece and starts demonstrating, chewing dramatically, as if this is a learning experience instead of a complete disaster.

Hana’s bottom lip wobbles.

You immediately swoop in, lifting her from the high chair and cradling her against your chest. “Shhh baby-,” you whisper, rubbing her back as she lets out the tiniest, saddest whimper.

Then, you turn to Jungkook.

“Seriously? Pork belly? For a six-month-old?”

Jungkook, still eating, frowns at you. “I thought she’d like it.”

“You thought she’d like it?”

“She’s gotta start eating real food sometime.”

“She’s six months old.”

“She’s advanced.”

Hana, still sniffling, buries her face into your shoulder.

You sigh, pressing a kiss to her head before shooting Jungkook a look. “Next time, start with mashed potatoes before trying to serve our baby a whole-ass Korean BBQ platter.”

Jungkook pouts, glancing at Hana, who is now fully ignoring him.

“…She’s gonna hold this against me forever, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” you say immediately.

And judging by the way Hana is glaring over your shoulder, you’re pretty sure she agrees.

Jungkook’s entire world is falling apart.

His tiny, precious daughter, who usually adores him, is now ignoring him—all because he made the grave mistake of serving her pork belly.

“Baby,” he says softly, leaning in closer, eyebrows knitted in distress. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad at Dada.”

Hana’s bottom lip wobbles.

She lets out a tiny, pitiful “Hmmph.”

Your heart melts at the sound, but Jungkook looks physically pained.

“Baby, please,” he pleads, reaching out to rub her tiny back. “I made a mistake. Dada is dumb.”

Hana sniffles dramatically.

You watch as she tilts her head just enough to peek at him, still glaring, but a little less now that Jungkook is using his softest, sweetest voice.

Taking advantage of her hesitation, Jungkook presses kisses all over her chubby little cheeks, each one coming with an exaggerated “mwah!”

“Dada loves you,” he coos. “Dada is so, so sorry. Next time, Dada will make mashed potatoes. Or rice. Or whatever you want, okay? You’re the boss.”

Hana squirms, still grumpy, but the way she grabs a fistful of his shirt is a clear sign she’s relenting.

You sigh, shaking your head with a fond smile. “You really thought pork belly was a good idea, huh?”

Jungkook pouts, looking genuinely ashamed. “She’s my daughter. I thought she’d appreciate good food.”

Hana lets out a tiny, tired huff.

Then—without warning—she leans forward and rests her face against his chest.

Jungkook gasps.

His eyes immediately soften, hands coming up to gently cradle her tiny body against him.

“Oh,” he breathes, rocking her slightly. “Baby…”

You watch as he slowly sways from side to side, rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles. His voice drops even softer as he whispers, “Sleepy, huh?”

Hana doesn’t answer, but the way her tiny fingers curl into his shirt says enough.

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook murmurs, pressing another soft kiss to her head. “Let’s forget about dinner. Just sleep, pretty girl. Dada will hold you.”

Your heart swells.

Despite the chaos, despite the pork belly incident, it’s moments like these that make you fall in love with him all over again.

With a small shake of your head, you step closer, reaching out to smooth Hana’s messy baby hair. “She loves you,” you whisper.

Jungkook smiles, gaze full of pure adoration. “I know.”

And with that, the pork belly betrayal is officially forgiven.

[dalcga]

HERE WITH ME

carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem! reader

‍ masterlist ︱ home

synopsis;— life to Carmy and how it revolves around her in small instances, moments and glimpses. warnings;— slight/barely any angst, longing, so much fluff, age gap if you want?, domestic asf, cursing, profanity, established..ish relationship?, s2-s3 the bear, Fem! reader notes;— been a while since i wrote, im obsessed with this angry little chef again. Here With You by d4vd while writing this left my keyboard soaked with happy tears.... pls listen to it while you read. rating;— M [mature] word count;— 1.9k

It was just some random day when he met her. He remembers it though, he was at the market. She was there. Bundled in a jacket, some college pull over and a really nice pair of jeans. Damn him for being a collector, but he couldn't help but stare.

Did he have that pair?

Had he seen these before?

It was for far too long because the girl turned and saw him eyeing her. What the fuck.

"Do I really look that good? If you want to stare all day, just ask for a picture." Her voice was sharp, accusatory as she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him.

"What? No, no no. I-It's not what it looks like-"

"Yea? It looks like I just caught you fucking oogling over my ass, dickwad."

"No! No no! It's the jeans! I uh... I collect jeans and they look real nice!"

People started glancing and she cocked her brow.

"Jeans.... you collect jeans."

"Yeah... just a hobby or whatever."

Her eyes narrowed and sighed, "Orslo jeans. The standard ones."

His lips quirked, "Orslo... They look like their 1930's ones."

'What a weirdo,' She thought with a smile.

She was making some apple chutney brie tart. Didn't know what apple would go best. He helped her. For days he never stopped thinking about her. There was nothing extraordinary about her, at least to everyone in the world. He just wanted to know more, because this girl was cool. Cool in a sense she lit up the stalls with her smile. Cool because she knew her jeans. Cool because she was very particular on choosing the brie she liked, not what would go best with her apples. Cool because she remembered him the second time they met.

And like that, twice a week, Wednesday and Sunday, they would meet and get groceries. She would talk about how she liked to cook and how she for some reason could never bake chocolate chip cookies, how she was still looking for the perfect pizza in Chicago.

For weeks they would shop. For weeks he would listen to her about everything and nothing. She knew he was a cook and she asked him to come over.

"Want to come by for dinner? Tonight? I-I got some stuff I can make, but I don't wanna offend you with my cooking."

He laughed. He laughed because he hadn't in a long time felt this giddy.

"Im serious! You're some hot shot chef, I like making mac n cheese with too much chili peppers on top... but... I'd like for you to come over. Would that be okay?"

"Yea, that sounds good. What time? I can come by and help if you want?"

She didn't want him to help. She wanted to impress him. She really did.

"If you come any time before 6, you better bring a bottle of wine. I want to cook tonight, you just.... sit and be pretty."

"Pretty, you want me to be pretty."

She shrugged as they headed out, "Yea, you and those baby blue eyes."

She was a force that somehow managed to pull out every laugh he had. From the faces she made at the smallest mistakes, to the way her nose wrinkled whenever smelled something she didn't like, to the way her cheeks were full with joy when she was happy.

And he did come before six. He didn't know what kind of meat she had, so he brought both white and red. And he did sit and look pretty for her. Black capped tee with relaxed jeans. As big as a perfectionist as he was, he found it endearing with the oddly shaped vegetables and mess everywhere. And still, she had not a speck on her simple black dress. She spoke so animatedly as she cooked, hand on hip as the lined cross back apron swished around her.

From what he remembered, she burnt the potatoes and made her steak a bit too rare. But all that mattered was that they were together. She laughed it off, embarrassed, but he didn't care. It was good. Being with her made everything taste good. Life was so sweet that the bitterness of the potatoes faded away.

"I liked it." Was all he said and she couldn't help the smile.

They kissed that night. They fell into bed that night. And from then on, it was like that always. The warmth, the joy, the complete and utter mistakes they made were nurtured and taken care of.

Some days he would cook and it was her turn to sit and be pretty. He would get her sweet wine, because for some reason, she only liked to drink that. She didn't like the expensive things, she preferred the pastrami recipe from The Beef to the one he would make. She liked the rye bread from the bakery in chinatown than the one from the french bakery he went to, she liked the cheese from the supermarket than the one at the farmers market.

He would laugh. He would remember all these quirks that he didn't understand, and he would make sure he got it right every time.

Even after having her try all sorts of things, he kinda learned she didn't like rich chocolate, or imported flavors. Not that she wouldn't appreciate it, but it caught him off guard.

Not everything was meant to be perfect.

She could snack on fries from McDonalds instead of the ones he would make and he didn't care. He would snack on it too.

At some point, he moved in. Closed his lease and found that the warm kitchen was much more comfortable with her funny microwave that you had to hit to turn on, than the updated one he worked at all those years ago.

Sometimes, at night, he would cut up a bowl of carrots and make a side of ranch. Yes, ranch, making sure it tasted like the one from their favorite chicken wing place. She would be working, staying up late with her leg propped up on the chair and eyes glued to her screen.

Sometimes he would come home so tired from his shift that she would stay up, fresh clothes set aside for him and a smile on her face as she kissed him and waited for him in bed.

To Carmy, joy didn't come from perfecting his food anymore. It came from her. The way it radiated around her and uplifted him everywhere.

He told her about his aspirations to own his own restaurant and how she wanted to be the best teacher she could.

"It doesn't matter how long it takes for us to get to where we want to go. As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face." She said.

And she did have that smile.

When they loved as lovers do, every inch of her was his to appreciate and make sure it never left him. He always touched her because he just wanted to feel her, no reason.

When Carmy kissed her, he always made sure it always felt like it was their last. Even if it was a peck.

When they would walk, he would switch hands behind his back incase he didn't like how close someone would get, or if they went to the other side of the road.

Always opened doors for her.

When she was sick, he knew she liked congee with a lot of ginger. She liked his home made sprite when her stomach was upset. When he was sick, he never realized how much he appreciated when she would take the day off just to make sure things were okay. A small fight because he didn't want her to worry or for her to miss work.

When they would actually fight, he would always make sure to tell her: "I'm not leaving you, I'm just going to cool off."

And he would come back.

When she was sad, oh you bet he was there. One time she came to work with him, she threw her self into peeling potatoes. Which then turned into her cutting onions and he got worried when she wouldn't stop crying. She said, "It's theraputic."

Kiss on the forehead and a smile home. It became a regular occurrence when she was sad.

When Carmy made a mistake, yelled at her or didn't know how to explain his anger, she would back away. Give him the space he needed then would come back and they would fix it together.

One morning, in the light of the sunrise, life had gotten away from him. They were growing older. Five years and they had been in this routine. She was still young still finishing school, he paid off his debts to Cicero and The Bear was thriving. Five years. It had slipped from him so quickly that he forgot.

He had so much to give her back.

From the nights of stress of building, money issues, she still stayed there. Still found a way to make him smile. Found a way to make it all just go away.

He called Richie that day. Asked him to come find something with him. Also asked Natalie to come with. No diamond in the world could shine as bright as her, but he made sure it was close enough.

Everyone knew about her and Carmy. Carmy and her. She was this missing piece to everyone's world.

The only spitfire that could render Richie speachless. The only other person who could handle the boys when Nat was tired. The only other person who could understand the way Sydney needed things done.

It was just her.

Now she wasn't a cure all, this hidden pearl. No, she was just who she was and it worked. It wasn't without the ocassional fuck up or mistake that left her stressed beyond all hell. No, it was what made them work so well.

The day Carmy proposed was the day Sydney asked her to run to the farmers market to grab more shallots for the dinner rush- everyone knew she was just closer to it than anyone at The Bear. The day Carmy proposed, she bought figaro shallots and zebrune shallots because they both looked the same and hoped they would work. The day Carmy proposed, she was a mess. Hair frizzy, bag hanging off her shoulder and her glasses skewed - her eyes just didn't want to wear contacts that day. The day Carmy proposed, the restaurant was empty, silent even.

It didn't cross her mind as she hurried to the back and she saw them. Carmy standing there alone, black capped tee and casual jeans. Hands behind him on the back of the stainless steel counter.

"Hey, honey bear... I bought shallots."

As confused as she was, she only thought about the shallots.

"Syd said you guys needed some and I couldn't remember which one you needed so I grabbed both types and-"

"Hon."

That's all he said.

The day Carmy proposed, he knelt down in the empty kitchen that didn't have its usual cold light. But the warm one that she liked and he had installed just for her.

"Marry me?"

It hit her like a truck.

She said yes, not verbally but with an attack of a hug and a searing kiss to him.

And they laughed that day. Laughed at the fact she still thought the shallots mattered, at the fact her nails looked like crap and the fact that everyone. All their friends and family, had all been there waiting for this one answer.

And for Carmy, this was it.

[greenxgloss]

Can we get a bts fanboy headcanon?

BTS as Fanboys

themes: Idol!Reader, Gn!Reader, Fluff, angst

Gonna be completely honest im not sure if you wanted bts as fanboys or how bts interacts with their fanboys so I'm gonna do them as fanboys bc I feel like that's the more interesting of the two (I'm so so sorry if that's wrong in which case you can totally request it again and be more clear I would totally re-write it if I'm wrong)

Kim Seokjin

Jin definitely roasts other fans and claims to be a day 1 supporter.

"I literally knew them when they just posted covers online.

Jin buys all your merch, official and unofficial.

Jin spends hours watching fan-made edits of you.

Jin plays the Sims4 just to create you as a sim and then spoil your sim but forces it to write new music when you're on break/hiatus.

"Close enough. Welcome back, Y/N. When's the next album?"

Jin makes his own video compilations of your funny moments and then laughs at them for hours.

Proud of his obsession and talks about you when he doesn't know what else to talk about with new people.

Attends fan meets

Jin makes memes of the fandom's inside jokes

Min Yoongi

Yoongi buys all your albums (cd form, vinyl form etc.) just to have and collect

He writes fanfiction of you (series, one shots etc) mostly fluff but there is the occasional smutty fic, hyper erotic and juicy asf but still respectful.

He's secretly hugely infatuated but still keeps it subtle/ to himself

"Yeah their music is always in my playlists." with his usual kitten smile.

"Collaborating on something with them would be a huge accomplishment." Hed calmly reply to comments about you on weverse live.

Yoongi paints portraits of you/ makes tons of fan art but its not obvious that its fanart because he makes it look like regular everyday art.

Yoongi not only watches your interviews, he reads them, enjoying the articles far more than video interviews.

"they seem much more comfortable and open in the written interviews" hed say to himself

He's so delulu he learned all your rumoured favourite foods and how to cook them "just in case"

zones out thinking about the meanings behind your songs

Youre his celebrity crush

Yoongi doesn't attend fan meets or concerts because he a more lowkye/ private fan

just interact with the fandom

Jung heosok

Hobi writing remixes of your songs constantly

Hobi being the only one of the boys to actually be friends with you in real life

"can I get on a remix of your recent single?"

Gossiping with him about other idols

"did you hear about the scandal that group was in? they haven't even debuted yet." while tapping your hand before leaning back.

him still being a mega fan despite being friends with you

Having a yoongi and halsey dynamic

begging you to stream on weverse all the time just because he knows other fans want it just as bad.

"come on!! please just an hour. ill get you those cookies you really love.

reposting all your Instagram posts with sweet captions.

"bestie is looking so good!!!" with a ton of emojis

recreating your tiktok dances

also starts dance trends to your music and encourages people to jump on the trend

"I'll repost your video if you do this dance." big heart shaped smile.

Kim Namjoon

namjoon studies your lyrics, finds the double meanings and the word play

"reviews" and reacts to your music in YouTube videos

watches the countdown to your music being released on whatever platform (youtube, weverse etc.)

"supposedly the camera rig malfunctioned on set, that's why the camera is so shaky but they didn't re-shoot because it added to the windy scene" he'd say all jumpy and giddy like a kid on a sugar rush

has your autograph framed from the one and only time he met you

namjoon was very flustered and shy when he met you

"oh uh yeah I love your music and the double meanings in your last song."

gushes about the cinematography in your music videos

Namjoon writes questions he'd ask you if he got to interview you

Watches movies and tags you as characters that remind him of you

Park Jimin

Loves to let your music play while he's doing something and then harmonizes with your vocals

buys Vip tickets to all your events

posts your lyrics on social media

"this part omg!!!"

One time you smiled at him in the crowd and he freaked out and bragged about it for months

"they totally smiled at me last night"

"do you think they remember me from the fan meet last month?"

he's constantly talking with other fans

jimin makes bracelets with letter beads that spell your name or album names

jimin copies your makeup just because he thinks you're the picture of beauty purely in a view of admiration

he views you like greek statues.

"wow- their cheekbones-" he'd say in awh, face right up to the screen while he held a mirror and makeup brush in hands.

Kim Taehyung

requests your songs at parties and other events

begs the guys to do a cover of your songs on stage

name drops you in interviews and is always talking about you in his own interviews

has a huge crush on you and will say so proudly

"they're so pretty. Y/n if you see this, call me." with a sly smirk on his face, completely disregarding the uproar it would cause with army

Taehyung gets super shy when you say his name

Being shy despite being so confident when he talks about you in interviews

"uh- oh- the new song- yeah." while giggling

apologizing profusely when you tease him about the interviews when he comes to fan meets

Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook would write a song about you that's how down bad he is

Posts on social media in hopes you see it

Kook argues with taehyung about thinking he'd treat you better given the chance

argues with jin about being a bigger fan

picks out his outfits to coordinate with yours

kook hopes to run into you at award shows

stalks your fanpages

reads yoongis fanfiction about you

probably is the more devoted fan among the other members

sings your songs all the time, in the car, shower, while cooking, etc.

the only one of the boys that talks to you confidently

"Your style is amazing, I take inspiration all the time." while standing up straight and s soft confident smile on his lips, eye contact unwavering.

but he would never admit that he's written and released songs about you

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

sorry this took so long i was trying to get all the requests in order! i hope these were up to par hcs are usually very rushed. if you'd like something more detailed or even full drabbles id totally be down to do that. if you wanna be tagged in future works to be notified when I've posted a fic please fill out the taglist form linked below along with the masterposts

➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Taglist Form

[criminallyyoursvn]

Since you mentioned someone requested a NSFW alphabet, can I request a SWF alphabet 👀

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Nik is incredibly affectionate. How doesn't he show affection? He gives you gifts, touches you, compliments you, does things for you...there's no real shortage of any of it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Nik was MC's friend for a long time. He's not too different in a friendship then being in a relationship. When he cares he shows it, there are just certain boundaries present between friends. For Nik, as he's gotten older it's been easier to make friends then it was growing up. Mainly, people are receptive to him much more now than they were before.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) LOVES A CUDDLE. He probably never knows when to quit though 😭 like he could be cuddling for 12 hours and be like- 5 more minutes 🥺

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) yes man is looking to be a husband, a male wife, a married man. He would cook and clean, but he’s not that great of a cook and his place is already really clean since he keeps up on it really well.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) He wouldn’t :) y’all in this for the long run.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Isn’t scared of commitment at all, if anything he’s scared that you may be. He is looking to cross the threshold yes 🙂‍↕️

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) He is very gentle on the surface. But the extremes he goes to and the way he manipulates can be quite cruel. Though his heart is soft 💖

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Loves hugs, doesn’t do it often, he doesn’t want to initiate and put anyone off. His hugs are strong and warm. He might get too into one so he refrains from doing so unless you initiate them.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) In his head immediately. Out of his mouth, only when it’s clear you feel the same.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) What’s the highest possible? 🤣 ruin their life, hit them with their car, kill them?

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Desperate, passionate, practiced. He will kiss you wherever you allow him to. He loves to be kissed anywhere, but especially on his face, chest, and dic- little Nik ☺️

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) He’s good. He’s pretty good with general interactions.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Slow and passionate. He’s the type to ask you all sorts of questions and cuddle and kiss you until one of you is forced to get out of bed.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Nik has a night routine, but his favorite part is cuddling with you in bed watching stuff on your phone, reading a book, or watching a movie…or other things.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) He appears to be open, but Nik is worried if he revealed his true self that he’d be hated for it. So he makes himself as palatable as humanly possible. He doesn’t actually like being open and vulnerable. However he’d never judge you and wants you to reveal your deepest darkest desires and secrets immediately.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Nik is very patient with those he cares for, for those that bother those he cares for however, absolutely none.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Nik literally remembers everything about you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) When he met you, your first date, and first kiss, and first sex, and so on and so forth.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) Incredibly protective of you. Of your reputation, your safety, your feelings.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) An incredible amount of effort, but not enough that he comes on too strong. But once he knows he can go further he will.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Lying, gaslighting, kidnapping, stalking, keeping secrets, killing people… but he can be fixed- right?

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Very. His looks were once a source of his greatest misery, and now it gets him everything he wants.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Without a doubt. There really is no him without you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Nik writes little self affirmations on sticky notes on the mirror sometimes 😭

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Someone who didn’t like music and someone who didn’t bathe. Other than that pretty open to all else.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) He has a pretty regular sleep schedule. Nothing really of note.