#did this assignment a while ago but I figured I could post it now

[saltdrinker]

Soooo now that all the EPIC sagas are released, I’m gonna dump this costume rendering of Penelope I did for a university assignment. Hope yall like it epic fandom 🫶

[satorulovebot]

so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter one

✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader

✧₊⁺ chapter summary — you get the chance to meet the infamous gojou satoru while working on your journalism project at suzuka circuit. what could you possibly want from him?

✧₊⁺ word count — 6.3k

✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), age gap, alcohol use, mature themes, mentions of cheating, substance abuse, themes of marriage and divorce

✧₊⁺ notes — hello everyone! i asked you awhile ago on a poll which series you would like to see after cursed seas and f1 gojo won the poll and then i posted the masterlist and everyone wants it so you get it now. so here it is. and NO its not happy NEVER expect happiness from me because im allergic to it. also the reader being nosy af is inspired by me and my parents telling me i should be a journalist with how nosy i am.

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

next chap. the husband and his wife

You moved to Tokyo with your family when you were younger.

You grew up in a rural part of the country, surrounded by farmers and people either ready to retire or nearing the end of their lives. Your parents hated living there, and so did you—for one, there were hardly any kids to play with, and two, as your father would say, "too many old fuckers lying around."

When you moved to Tokyo, your family decided to celebrate by taking you to a Formula 1 race. Your dad thought it would be perfect for the two of you since fixing up old cars had always been your daddy-daughter activity.

You didn’t like the idea of racing at first—the noise was too loud, and the idea of people speeding toward a black-and-white checkered line seemed ridiculous. But the moment you heard the roar of the engines and watched the lights go from red to green, you were captivated, a fascination that would stay with you for years.

When you got your first computer, you began looking up videos of F1 drivers. One day, you stumbled across a video titled “The Biggest F1 Scandals in History,” and that was when you decided you wanted to go into journalism.

You were nosy, to say the least. So, it was no surprise to your parents when you announced to them that you wanted to pursue journalism as a career. Your father reminded you how you’d always been curious, listening in on others’ conversations and keeping up with the latest school drama.

When you applied for journalism school, you were accepted into one of the top programs in the world—Sophia University. Your parents were proud that you’d made it into such a highly ranked school for journalism in Japan.

You were now in your fourth and final year at Sophia, and enjoying your journalism class. Recently, your professor assigned a project: write a story about a major pop culture figure of your choice, and for extra credit, get an interview with them. Your professor knew it was damn near impossible, but he was always optimistic that one day, someone would get that interview and he could retire in peace.

That project led you here: Suzuka Circuit, Japan's main Formula 1 track. Your chosen figure was none other than Gojou Satoru—F1's biggest driver in recent years. He was your father's favorite among the new-generation drivers, known for his string of controversies since he started on top of the persistent rumors of his heavy drug use before races.

You had managed to snag a media passs from your professor when you mentioned doing an F1 driver for your project. He was able to pull some strings to get you into the media booth, getting you a closer look at Gojou Satoru in person.

You watched the pre-race preparations closely from the media booth, your fingers hovered above your notepad as you waited for the race to start. You were determined to get a good grade on this project, and that meant adding every single detail to your report about this race.

It was about time for the drivers to gather in their garages, each wearing headsets and ready for the pre-race briefing. The briefing typically covers the race start, various pit stop scenarios, and a detailed weather report. Before each race weekend, they usually spend time in a simulator of the track they'll be racing on, preparing them for the upcoming race.

After about thirty-minutes the racers came out of their garages in their respective cars. They each line up based on the results of a quaifying session that takes place before the race, slowest qualifier in the back, fastest in the front. Gojou Satoru was at the front of the grid, which meant he was one of the qualifiers who had the fastest time.

You waited around for a little while longer turning your attention to what was happening around you. Eventually, you made your way back to the front of the media booth as the race started, ready to report.

The engines revved as each driver began preparing for the start of the race, each car vibrating on the starting grid like a beast straining at its chains. Gojou sat at the front of the lineup, his hands loose on the wheel, fingers tapping in a steady rhythm as he waited for the lights to turn green.

The roar from the grandstands faded, becoming a blur of sound as the lights ticked down: red, red, red, red… green.

He slammed the throttle, feeling the raw force of the car’s engine kick him back into his seat as he tore down the straight. Other cars jostled for position behind him, all fighting to claim the inside line into the first turn.

Through his earpiece, he heard the voice of his race engineer, Shokou, calm as ever. “Clear on turn two, you’ve got five-tenths on Hayashi. Stay tight.”

But Gojou barley heard her. The car was an extension of him, responding to his every thought, every split-second decision. He pushed down the straights, his right foot heavy on the accelerator, taking corners at speeds most drivers wouldn’t dare attempt. The sound of his tires skidding against the asphalt, the blur of the track side barriers, the lights of Tokyo reflecting off his mirrors—it all blended into a single, perfect rush.

Gojou could see the next turn ahead, a tight chicane that could send the best drivers into the barriers if they weren't careful. He braked hard, turning the wheel with perfect precision to angle the car through. He could feel the back end wobbling, but he didn't flinch, drifting perfectly as he swung back onto the racing line, gaining another second on the pack.

He could almost hear the collective gasp of the crowd in his head as he slipped through the chicane. This was his playground. Every race was a chance to remind the world why he was the best.

“Coming up on a DRS zone,” Shoko’s voice crackled in his ear, grounding him, though he was already on it

He waited for the perfect moment, watching the rear-view mirror to see the faint outline of Hayashi's car. He pressed the DRS, and his car shot forward, the drag reduction giving him a temporary speed boost that had him pulling away, putting him in the lead.

The track opened up ahead, the second sector full of wide, sweeping turns. Here was where raw speed mattered more than anything. Gojou pressed down hard on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response. He leaned forward, watching the track fly by, the white lines blurring as he focused entirely on the road ahead.

For a second, the sound in his earpiece went dead, the faint sound of static filling his ears. Then Shokou was back. “You’ve got Yoshida closing in on your tail. He’s pushing hard.”

Gojou glanced up at the mirrors, his eyes catching the bright blue and orange of Yoshida's car looming larger. The familiar thrill sparked in him. So, Yoshida thought he had a chance, did he? Well, he’d show him otherwise.

“Copy,” he muttered into his mic, eyes narrowing as he took the next corner, barley touching the brakes. He felt the tires skid but he managed to control the drift, knowing any slip would open the door for Yoshida to slip past.

He whipped into another straight, his hands steady on the wheel as he hit a top speed.

His foot didn’t so much as twitch as the engine’s roar morphed into a high-pitched scream as the car closed the distance.

The curve ahead was brutal—a tight 90-degree bend that demanded precise timing.

In a split-second decision, he did something no one expected. He braked late, his heart pounding as he cut the turn at a speed that sent the back end skidding. The tires gripped just in time, allowing him to pull out of the corner without losing traction. He could almost feel the shock reverberating as he regained control, his lead still intact.

As the laps wore on, his body moved on instinct, every gear shift, every turn becoming a single, fluid motion. One lap. Two. Three, with two pit stops between. He counted them off one by one, his mind buzzing with the pure rush of speed and the heat inside the car, barely noticing the time passing. The crowd faded into nothing, the world shrinking down to the track and his car.

The final lap. This was it.

“Box this lap if you’re in trouble,” Shokou’s voice crackled again. “Tire degradation is high.”

But Gojou’s grip on the steering wheel only tightened. His front tires were holding out—barely. It would be tight, but he could make it. He’d run this last lap on sheer determination alone if he had to.

“Negative, Shokou. I’m taking it,” he replied, and then turned off the earpiece, tuning out everything except the track and the car in front of him.

He launched into the final lap, throwing caution to the wind. Yoshida was right on his tail now, close enough that he could see the gleam of his headlights in the mirrors. But Gojou didn’t back down. He took each turn aggressively, blocking Yoshida's attempts to pass, forcing him to fall back every time.

The last chicane loomed ahead, his final obstacle before the finish line. He tightened his grip, the wheel trembling under his hands. He took the chicane fast, too fast, almost feeling the wheels lift off the ground as he flew out of the turn. The car rocked, but he held steady, pushing the pedal to the floor.

The finish line was in sight, a faint white line at the end of the straight, and with one last push, he crossed it, the checkered flag waving in his periphery as he tore past.

It was only after he’d crossed over the line that the realization hit him—he’d won.

The cheers erupted in the stands, the roar of the crowd filling his ears as he slowed down, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He could hear Shoko’s voice crackling back in as she shouted, “You pulled it off, you insane bastard.”

Gojou grinned, leaning back in his seat, still buzzing. He’d done it again, just as he always did.

The moment he climbed out of the cockpit, Gojou was surrounded by his team. Shokou was the first to reach him, her usually composed face split by a wide grin. She grabbed his helmet and thumped him on the shoulder hard enough so he actually felt it though the layers of his suit.

“You reckless son of a—”

“Language, Shokou,” Gojou interrupted, grinning as he yanked off his gloves, waving to the rest of the Tokyo Jujutsu Racing team that swarmed him.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you pull stunts like that? I’m gonna need a raise after today’s heart attack,” she muttered.

“Oh, come on, Shokou. That was just a little fun.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Where’s my confetti?”

“Coming right up, your royal highness." Someone handed him a bottle of champagne, still cold and slick, and he twisted the cap, spraying a wild arc of foam that showered his team and nearby fans.

His PR manager, Nanami, clapped him on the back. “You’re insufferable."

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, lifting the champagne bottle in a mock toast, flashing him a grin. The media’s cameras clicked and flashed, capturing every moment as his crew continued their congratulations.

The crowd pressed close against the barriers, shouting his name, waving homemade banners with scribbled slogans and his number embellished with the colors red and black. He walked closer, one arm raised, acknowledging the fans, letting their cheers fill him up, louder and louder with every step.

But as he continued walking, his gaze caught on something—or rather, someone—just beyond the crowd.

At first it was just a hint curiosity, the way your gaze was fixed on him. A bit removed from the chaos, you leaned against one of the barriers with a media pass hanging around your neck, arms folded as you watched from a distance.

Gojou slightly narrowed his eyes, holding your gaze longer than he'd held any fan's tonight, as if he was daring you to look away first.

“What the hell is that about?” he muttered under his breath, gaze moving back to Shokou for half a second.

“Hm?” Shokou followed his gaze, but her eyes slid right past you, uninterested. “Press. You’ll get used to it. Come on, they’re all waiting.”

He forced himself to break the stare, clearing his throat as Shokou ushered him toward the media pen, where a lineup of journalists waited, all armed with recorders, microphones, and notebooks.

He fielded the usual questions—how did it feel to win, what was his mindset, what was he thinking on that last turn? His answers were always the same practiced ones, words sliding out like clockwork.

“Well, Mr. Gojou, what would you say to those who believe your racing style is a little… aggressive?” one journalist asked, a little smirk on her face as if she thought she was catching him off guard.

He snorted. “They can call it what they want. I call it winning.” He shrugged. “I don’t come out here to play it safe.”

A few reporters laughed at his remark, clearly interested in what else he had to say as a fresh wave of questions started.

Somewhere behind the flashing lights, he saw you again, lingering a few feet behind the crowd of reporters with that calm gaze fixed on him. You didn’t raise a recorder or a camera, didn’t even make an effort to push closer for a question. You just… watched.

It was disconcerting.

“Gojou!” Another journalist waved a microphone his face, snapping his attention back to the current situation. “What’s the next step for you this season?”

He forced a smile, eyes briefly looking back to you before he focused on the question. “The same as always,” he said. “Push harder, get faster, and give everyone something to talk about.”

The crowd laughed again, though, he barely heard them, too focused on the strange woman staring right into his soul. The two of you locked eyes and you have him a small nod, as if acknowledging that you were in fact staring into his soul.

“Well, I think that’s enough,” Shokou said suddenly at his elbow, pulling him out of his thoughts. “They’ll have plenty of time to hound you later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, though he let her guide him away. Still, he couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of you.

But you were already gone.

Gojou slipped away from the crowd, weaving through the bustling garage and dodging the congratulatory slaps on his back, the endless rounds of handshakes, and the celebratory shouts. He ducked past a few journalists, ignoring the barrage of questions still hurled his way, his smile slipping as he finally found the door to the bathroom.

Inside, the cool, sterile silence was jarring compared to the noise outside, but he let out a sigh of relief, his heart hammering in his chest. He clicked the lock and leaned against the sink, running his hands over his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.

The victory high had worn off, leaving behind a familiar pressure he could not cope with. It settled on his shoulders like an old, unwelcome friend.

He hadn't realized how much tension he was carrying in his shoulders, how deeply it would itself into him when he was alone. The race had been perfect, his win flawless, but he could feel the exhaustion radiating off of him, a pulsing throb being his eyes. He clenched his jaw, glaring at himself in the mirror.

“Pull yourself together,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

But his words fell flat, swallowed up by the silence. In the mirror, his own eyes stared back at him, tired, almost hollow.

He reached into the pocket of his racing suit, fingers brushing over the small, familiar packet hidden in the inner lining. It was a stupid habit, a reckless one really, but it was one he hadn't been able to shake, no matter how many times he tried to quit. He could practically feel the temporary relief in the palm of his hand.

He closed his eyes, running his thumb along the edge of the packet before pulling it out, setting it on the counter next to the sink. He ripped it open tapping a small line onto the smooth counter top. It was like his fingers had a mind of their own, as if it was part of his routine of suiting up or gripping the wheel.

The powder glinted under the bathroom’s harsh fluorescent lights, almost mocking him with its simplicity. Just a quick escape, just enough to take the edge off. That’s all he needed.

He leaned down, closing one nostril and inhaling sharply, feeling the sting as the powder hit his nose. He straightened his back, blinking hard, the world around him sharpening as his mind cleared. A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips.

He leaned back against the sink, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling, feeling his heartbeat slow, the tension in his muscles fading away.

But it didn’t take long for the guilt to creep back in, that hollow feeling settling in his chest, a reminder that this wasn't the answer. He knew it. He knew exactly what he was doing to himself, how he was destroying his body from the inside out, how it could all come crashing down. And yet… here he was.

“Fucking pathetic,” he muttered to himself, his voice echoing against the tiles.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, jolting him back to reality.

“Gojou? You in there?” It was Shokou. “They’re waiting for you out here.”

He stuffed the empty packet back into his pocket, brushed the last of the substance off of the sink, and glanced in the mirror one last time to check his reflection, making sure there was no trace left of his momentary escape.

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, forced a smirk, and unlocked the door.

Shokou was standing there, arms crossed, her gaze scrutinizing as he stepped out. She didn’t say anything, but her judgmental eye lingered over him for a split second too long.

“You good?”

“Never better."

“Right,” she said, clearly unconvinced, but she dropped it, gesturing for him to follow her.

As the celebrations continued, Gojou weaved his way through fans and team-members alike who were still wrapped up in their post-race celebrations. He scanned the crowd, hoping to find the strange woman from earlier who he noticed had a press pass, thinking you would be here.

And then he saw you, leaning against a stack of crates near the garages, observing the current scene with the same judgmental eyes that Shokou had. The media badge hung from your neck, swaying slightly as you shifted your weight, pulling out a notebook and flipping through it, seemingly absorbed in what you were currently doing.

He cleared his throat as he approached, the echo of his footsteps giving his presence away.

You looked up, your brow raised as he came closer, a hint of intrigue flashing in your eyes.

“Looking for something?” you asked, not moving as he stopped in front of you.

“You could say that,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets, his gaze darted to the notebook in your hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, off in the shadows. Didn’t feel like joining the crowd?”

“Not my style.” You shrugged. “I’m not here to cheer. I’m here to report.”

“Journalist, huh?” he drawled, tilting his head. “What’s your angle?”

“The truth,” you said, a little smile pulling at your lips as you studied him. “Not everyone’s a fan of that, I know.”

“Depends on what you call the truth. But I’ve got a feeling you’ve already got your version.”

"How perceptive. I’m doing a piece on your racing career, your achievements, but… the public wants a fuller picture, don’t you think?

“Not sure I follow. Everyone knows what they need to know.”

“Not quite,” you replied, flipping through your notebook. “There’s more than just racing stats when it comes to Gojou Satoru, isn’t there?”

“Care to elaborate?”

“People say you’re… unraveling. Your recent ‘questionable decisions’ are starting to paint a different picture, don’t you think?” you said, tapping your pen against your notebook. “The accidents, the fines, the constant change in pit crews—”

“Is this some kind of witch hunt?” he interrupted. “Because I’d hate to disappoint you, princess, but I’ve heard it all.”

“Maybe so.” You leaned in a bit, meeting his stare. “But what about the whispers that aren’t out yet? The suspicions about you cheating the drug tests, your team shielding you—” You paused. “There’s a lot of money on your success, Mr. Gojou.”

“Money and racing have always gone hand-in-hand, don’t you think? You’d have a hard time finding someone out here who hasn’t bent a rule or two.”

“True enough.” You titled your head slightly. “But even the most golden careers have a way of losing their shine.”

"Tell me—do you enjoy tearing people down for a living?”

“Only if it’s warranted,” you replied unfazed. “People aren’t interested in perfect stories. They want the flaws, the dirt. It makes it all more real. At least that's what my professor believes."

“You’ve got a wicked mind, I’ll give you that. But I hope you realize you’re not the first to come sniffing around for the ‘real story’.”

A pregnant pause settles between you before you asked, “And what about her?”

A beat passed before he answered. “Who?”

“Your wife. She’s been… noticeably absent from the press circuits. And rumor has it things aren’t exactly picture-perfect between you two.”

“Rumor has it,” he repeated. “Guess you know how it is in this business. There’s always some rumor or another.”

“So it’s just a rumor, then? All the time apart, the missed events, her name suddenly missing from every headline. You’re saying there’s nothing to it?”

“People are eager to make stories out of nothing. My private life is just that—private.”

“That’s interesting,” you murmured, not looking away. “Because the most recent stories about you and her—they’re awfully detailed. People are noticing, wondering why she’s suddenly… disappeared from the scene.”

“Let them wonder. Like I said, people will talk. And it seems like you’re more interested in gossip than journalism.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Journalism is about uncovering the truth,” you countered. “But it seems like you’re more comfortable brushing things under the rug than addressing them.”

His smile returned, his carefully crafted facade sliding back into place as he straightened up, glancing away from you, clearly bored of the conversation. "Maybe someday you'll get the truth you're so desperate for, but it's not going to be today."

Before he walked away completely, he gave you one last look, his tone playful but laced with a hint of warning. “Be careful what you dig up, princess. Sometimes the truth’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

And with that, he turned his back to you, disappearing into the crowd.

Gojou returned home after the long night of celebrations had died down, the adrenaline from the race long gone, now replaced by a gnawing emptiness that felt like it might hollow him out. His penthouse was in the hear of Tokyo—a sleek, modern apartment with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the neon-drenched skyline.

As he opened the door, the soft him of the city below was drowned out by the sound of footsteps, His wife, Hana, appeared from the hallway, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her eyes narrowed. She was dressed in a sleek black outfit, her dark hair pulled back, a looking a frustration etched onto her face.

“You’re late."

“Didn’t realize I was on a curfew,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“Don’t act like that.” Her eyes flashed as she followed him into the living room. “You missed the dinner with my parents again. They’ve been asking about you, wondering why you’re never around.”

“Hana, I just won a race,” he replied, exasperated. “Sorry if I wasn’t in the mood to play the doting son-in-law tonight.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “Of course, it’s always about the race with you. Everything is about that damn career, isn’t it?”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you married me.”

“Maybe I didn’t know it would mean you disappearing for days, weeks sometimes, chasing whatever thrill you think you need to feel alive.”

“What’s your point, Hana? We’ve had this argument a hundred times.”

“The point is, Satoru,” she said, voice trembling with anger, “that you seem to care more about everything else than this marriage. I’m just a fixture in your life, something you come back to whenever you need to check a box or show face. But you’re never really here.”

He let out a harsh laugh, the bitter sound filling the apartment. "Here we go again. Hana, it’s not like you’ve been some shining example of commitment either. You’ve known what this is for months.”

“What this is?” Her voice rose, cracking slightly as she repeated his words. “What exactly is ‘this,’ Satoru? A sham? A partnership for appearances? I thought you loved me…"

“I can’t keep doing this,” she continued softly, her voice breaking. “The lying, the pretending. It’s exhausting.”

“So what do you want me to say, Hana? That I’m some perfect husband?” He gestured to himself, shaking his head with a smirk that looked almost pained. “We’re both guilty here. Let’s not act like this hasn’t been a slow-motion train wreck.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“What do you want from me, Hana?” he asked quietly, the fight suddenly draining out of him. “You want me to pretend I’m someone I’m not?”

“I want… I wanted the man I married. The one who cared, who had dreams."

“Then maybe,” he said finally, his voice almost a whisper, “it’s time to stop pretending.”

As Gojou stood there running a hand through his hair. Hana paused, her expression shifting from something resigned to something wounded.

“And there’s one more thing."

He looked at her, brow furrowing. “Fucking Christ Hana, what now?”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Satoru?” she asked, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “I know what’s out there. The rumors. The whispers about who you’re with when you’re not here. Or maybe you think I don’t hear them.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hana, they’re just rumors. You know how the press is—they’ll twist anything for a story.”

“Twist what, exactly? Why do they have something to twist in the first place?”

“They don’t have anything. It’s just the media looking for something to make people read. Speculation sells.”

“Right. Speculation. But funny how it’s always about you, always linked to another woman.”

“That’s because I’m under a microscope. People love to create scandals, especially with someone like me. And you know that better than anyone.”

“It’s not just them, Satoru. People talk, and it’s not just baseless gossip. I’m not naive. I hear things from people close to you, people who actually know you.”

“You really believe them? You think I’m out there, risking everything for some—” He stopped himself, biting his tongue.

“Do I? I don’t even know my own husband anymore. Maybe I should ask them. Or maybe I should ask you directly, Satoru. Are you seeing someone?”

“Why are we even doing this?”

“Because I want the truth. Just once. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

“Believe what you want, Hana. I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Then maybe that’s all I need to know.”

Gojou stormed out of his apartment, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to shake off his frustration. He'd had enough for one night. His heart was pounding and the last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts. He needed to get out, to drown the anger with something that could at least help him forget.

The bar he found was tucked away down a dim side street in Shibuya. It wasn't anything fancy–a dark cry from the glitzy nightlife he was used to–but it was dark and quiet which was exactly what he needed. He slid onto a bar stool and motioned for a drink, not bothering to pay attention to what the bartender poured.

He sipped his drink in silence, trying to tune out the night and all the noise in his head. The alcohol burned down his throat, but it was a welcome distraction that numbed his anger and frustration. He was almost on his third drink when he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room, hunched over a notebook, tapping her pen against her cheek in thought.

She's cute, he thought to himself. He squinted trying to get a better look at the young woman, and he immediately recognized, it was you.

Of all the places he'd expect to see you, this shitty bar wasn't one of them. You looked so absorbed in your work, like you were piecing together something for a story. Satoru's curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up carrying his drink as he made his way over to where you were sitting.

"Well, well," he said, leaning against the back of the chair across from you. “Didn’t peg you for a bar rat, but maybe I was wrong.”

Your head snapped up, and your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Gojou Satoru. What a surprise.”

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already taking the seat.

“Didn’t think someone like you would end up in a place like this. Celebrating?”

He gave a dry laugh, swirling the glass in his hand. “Something like that.”

“So, what are you doing here, really? Figured you’d be at a fancy cafe, writing about some important news story.”

“Maybe I am. Research is research, even if it’s in a bar. Maybe it’s you I’m writing about.”

“So I’m your new project, huh?”

“Maybe. It’s part of this little journalism course I’m doing. We’re supposed to pick a public figure and write a profile. Someone who’s got a… colorful public image.”

“Colorful, huh?” He smirked. “Guess I’m your lucky target. Hope I make an interesting subject."

“Interesting is one word for it,” you replied, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What’s got you so quiet tonight? I thought you’d be surrounded by fans somewhere.”

He shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink. “Not in the mood for fans tonight.”

“Tough race?”

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Not the race. Just… life, I guess.”

“So,” he said, leaning in. “tell me about this little journalism course. You planning to make a career out of stalking poor drivers like me?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. We’re learning how to ‘uncover the truth’—or at least, that’s what they say. So far, it’s been a lot of digging through archives and learning to ask the right questions.”

“Right questions, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Let’s hear one. What would you ask me, if I were your ‘colorful public figure’?”

“Alright, Gojou. How does someone at the top of their game manage to keep it all together? All the races, the publicity, the pressure… don’t you ever feel like it’s too much?”

“Honestly?” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s not as easy as it looks, being the guy everyone thinks has it all together. But people don’t care about that part. They just want the show.”

“So you put on the show.”

“Guess that’s what it comes down to.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “People don’t want to see a guy crack under pressure. They want the image.”

“But what do you want?”

No one ever asked him that, as if what he wanted didn’t matter.

“What do I want?” he repeated, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to dodge the question. “Maybe another drink.”

I’m serious. Behind all of that… what’s left?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I don’t even know anymore. It’s like I’ve been going so fast for so long, I can’t remember what it was I was chasing in the first place.”

“Maybe that’s what you need to figure out, then.”

He looked at you, and the faintest trace of a genuine smile broke through. “Maybe.”

The two of you sat in silence, and he found himself grateful for it. You didn't press or pry at him and he thought that he could just be himself, even if it was just for a little while.

“Alright,” he said finally, nudging your notebook with his finger. “So, future journalist, you really gonna write all this down? Make me sound like some tortured artist?”

You smirked. “I’ll try to be kind. Maybe I’ll even leave out the part where you go to bars alone and pretend to be mysterious.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, holding up his drink in mock surrender. “Noted. But I expect a copy when it’s published. Autographed, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you replied, laughing as you clinked your glass against his. “But don’t expect it to be flattering.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the conversation continued, Gojou found himself leaning in closer. You both let the drinks keep coming, though it was less about how much alcohol you were consuming and more about the way the words spilled more easily between you two.

“So,” you asked, taking another sip of your drink, “what’s it actually like out there? Everyone sees the fame, the money, the cars, but… what’s it really like?”

He exhaled, tapping his fingers on the edge of his glass. “Honestly? It’s… intense. There’s this high to it, this adrenaline. Nothing like it. You’re pushing yourself and everyone around you to the edge," he tilted his head. “But sometimes, it feels like the line between winning and crashing out isn’t as thick as people think. You cross it once, and that’s it—you’re done.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?”

“A little. But I’m more afraid of what happens if I stop. It’s like… I don’t know what I’d be without it. Guess that sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t. I get it. When something’s all you know… giving it up is like giving up a part of yourself. Scary as hell.”

“Exactly. Guess we all have our addictions, huh?”

Shit. Did he say too much?

You didn’t push, just gave him a quiet nod. “So, what’s Tokyo Jujutsu like? It's one of the toughest team on the grid, right?”

“You know it. They’re tough as hell, no room for error. And they sure as hell won’t give you a second chance if you mess up.”

“Sounds brutal."

“Yeah, maybe. I guess I like the challenge. Or maybe I just like proving people wrong.”

“Enough about me," he continued. What about you? What’s the deal with this journalism project? Are you trying to make a name for yourself by exposing all my secrets?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Believe it or not, my goal in life isn’t to ruin yours. I actually think it’s fascinating, learning what drives people, what keeps them going, even when things get messy.”

“Messy? What makes you think my life is messy?”

“Oh, please. Gojou Satoru’s life is one headline after another. You’re practically the poster boy for drama.”

He feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me. I’m just a guy trying to make a living, you know?”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just a guy who happens to have a dozen scandals and an equal number of speeding tickets.”

“Hey,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a professional, okay? That’s all part of the job.”

The two of you continued to chat into the night. Gojou found himself relaxing, caught up in the rare comfort of talking with someone who didn’t expect him to play a part. He could just… be.

At some point, the bartender announced last call, and Gojou glanced at you, smirking. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You stretched, gathering your notebook and tucking it under your arm. “Thanks for the, uh, ‘research material.’ It was… enlightening.”

He laughed, standing and grabbing his coat. “Anytime. But don’t go making me look like a complete asshole in your little project, alright?”

“No promises."

Outside, the air was crisp as he faint hum of city traffic the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slid his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

Outside, the air was crisp as the faint him of the city being the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slide his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again."

“Only if you’re brave enough to handle more questions.”

“Oh, I’m plenty brave. But we’ll see if you’re as good at digging as you think.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to leave, throwing him a casual wave. “Goodnight, Mr. Gojou.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching as you disappeared down the empty street.

In that moment he realized, he never did catch your name.

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[suugarbabe]

Hi! I have a request, which is if you could write a post where mattheo and the reader goes on a a one week school trip and somehow got paired up together in the same room with only one bed. They’re kinda hate each other but the reader actually has a huge crush on him. Also I know this might sound kinda weird but could there be a scene when he wears grey sweatpants or like when he just comes out of the shower with nothing but a low waisted towel. (And reader happens to have brought nothing but cute small pjs/clothes)

Thanks for the request lovie 🖤

He rubbed his hands over his face while you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. Mattheo looked up, his eyes pleading, “Professor, please. There’s no way this is happening. Can we even stay in the same room? I mean…she’s a…she!?” You rolled your eyes, “I’m a she? You mean a woman, merlin, you’re unbearable,” you turned towards your professor, “there’s got to be another room or someone that can switch with us…I’m begging.” Mattheo snorted under his breath, “Never pegged you as one to beg.”

“Enough!” you both jumped at the volume of Professor McGonagall’s interruption, “If you did not want to get stuck in this predicament, then you both should have signed up for this extra credit when I first proposed it a month ago, not three days ago. Now. You are both legally adults, I’m sure you can manage with the arrangement. Cabin sixty-eight will be yours, here is the key. The class will meet tomorrow at 10am, hopefully you can both not kill each other by that time and we will see you down by the Diricawl pens.” She handed you the keys to the cabin before swiftly walking away towards her own cabin space.

You didn’t even attempt to hide the huff of frustration that slipped from your lips as you turned and started walking towards your assigned cabin. Mattheo followed quickly behind, “Too bad we’re not one cabin over, right?” You glanced at him slightly, one eyebrow quirked. He rolled his eyes, “Because then we’d be in cabin sixty-nine…get it? Like the sex position.” You groaned in frustration as you walked up the steps to your cabin, unlocking the door and walking in. “You’re the most immature out of all of your stupid little friends, I swear to Salazar.”

Mattheo scoffed, “Am not, that’s Berkshire. It’s not like you’re much better. You…you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” Mattheo’s sentence trailed off when you both entered the cabin coming face to face with your sleeping arrangement. “One bed, is she bloody serious?” Mattheo was quick to complain once again as you placed your overnight bag on top of the bed. “What are you doing?” He dropped his bag by the door. “I’m getting my pyjamas out, I’m going to shower and then I’m going to bed. Don’t know where you’re going to sleep but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” You gave him a saccharine smile before heading into the bathroom to change.

Wiping the fog from the mirror, you looked at yourself, mentally berrading your choice in sleepwear. To your defense, you had not planned on staying in a cabin with a male student. Taking a deep breath, you opened the bathroom door only to see Mattheo cozied up on top of the bed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The sound of your voice made him jump slightly, “Oh, hi there, Princess. I’m just getting comfortable.” The smirk gracing his face only made more frustration boil in you, “Well get off, because I called the bed.” Mattheo only shook his head, “Yeah, and I also thought you grabbed your pyjamas, not your underwear.”

You looked down at your tank top and shorts, both of which could probably be considered smaller than average. But again, you planned on rooming with another girl, not the manwhore of Slytherin house. “These are my pyjamas, you wanker,” you walked to the other side of the bed, pulling the duvet down and climbing in, the blankets being slightly restrained from Mattheo’s weight. “Are you going to move or are you going to be a pain in my ass all night long? Get off the bed.” You pulled on the blanket underneath him only for him to laugh, “I’m getting up, calm down, sweetheart. But it’s only to shower. I’m getting back in the bed when I’m done.”

“Yeah, my ass you are,” you rolled over, your back facing him. Once you heard the door close you rolled back flat, staring up at the ceiling. You had nearly dozed off when you heard the shower turn off and the door unlock. Turning your head slightly you caught glimpse of a sight girls in your class would kill for. Mattheo’s grey sweats are low on his hips as water still trails down his abdomen. A towel covers his eyes as he dries the curls on his head and you take full advantage to gawk. “Like what you see, Princess?”

You huff out a laugh before rolling over, “Not even close, Riddle.” You feel the bed dip and the covers shift. “What are you doing?” You sat up, watching as Mattheo snuggled deeper under the sheets. “I’m getting comfortable, obviously,” Mattheo tucked himself in, clearly unbothered by the situation. “C’mon, Princess. I promise I’m real warm,” the smirk on his face only proved to irritate you further. You remained stubborn, turning away from him once more.

Trying to sleep seemed futile, despite the soothing pitter patter of the rain that started to hit against the cabin window. You heard the sound of soft snores come from behind you. Slowly turning over, as to not disturb him, you stared at Mattheo sleeping soundly. One arm rested above his head on the pillow while the other laid flat against his chest. You subtly moved a little closer to him, not quite touching him but getting fairly close. He wasn’t lying about being warm. You could feel the heat radiating off his body already and you couldn’t help the yearning in your chest to move just slightly closer.

Those efforts weren’t needed by you as Mattheo suddenly turned in his sleep, the arm laying on his stomach reaching out and encircling your body, pulling you flush to his chest where your cheek was now pressed against his bare skin. A gasp left your lips at the action, Mattheo’s voice low and gravely, thick with sleep, “You tell anyone and I avada you.” You hummed in agreeance, burying you face deeper into him and relishing in his body heat. The sleep you got that night was the best you had in months, curled up and nestled close to Mattheo’s body you’d nearly forgotten how much he frustrated you when you’re awake.

A flash of light is what jolts you awake, but Mattheo’s hold on your body seemed to adjust throughout the night, one hand holding the meat of your thigh close around his hip with his other wrapped around your shoulders, your fronts pressed together tightly. The flash of light seemed to disturb Mattheo as well as you heard a grunt and moan of complaint while his grip on your thigh tightened. A brisk feeling of cold ran up your skin as the duvet seemed to be ripped from your form. Another flash of light causing you and Mattheo both to groan. “For Salazar’s fucking sake what the-” you turned your head towards the foot of the bed to see Malfoy shaking two Polaroids in his hand while Blaise stood next to him, trying (and failing) to cover his smile with his hand, “McGonagall told us to come wake you, fucking Godric I’m glad she did.”

Mattheo sat up quickly, finger pointing at Draco accusingly, “I’ll kill you, Cousin, give me those pictures.” Mattheo jumped from the bed, chasing Draco from the cabin still clad in just his sweatpants. You turned to Blaise sheepishly, a small smile on your face. The tall boy only shook his head, twisting his fingers next to his mouth like he was locking his lips before leaving, closing the door behind him.

[stxrshxpxd]

“i enjoy watching you squirm”

pairing: young thranduil x reader

word count: 1.3k

prompt: prince thranduil and his childhood frenemy are harvesting apples in the woods, but things get a little tense and she starts feeling some stuff…

(this is a blurb i posted a while ago but i just reworked it and added a bunch of new stuff to it, for a school assignment :p so i figured i might as well post it here)

Having grown up being force fed a friendship with Thranduil, naturally I had grown to hate him. His father was of course The King, and my mother was a lady of his court. She simply could not have a daughter who was not in The Prince’s good graces.

The Prince had an unbreakable pride and sometimes smiled in ways that suggested he owned the very ground you trod. And I suppose he did, through means of his blood. However, it would be a day long from now that I cave to that notion.

As a boy Thranduil was a direct product of the confinements of a court. He had a hunger for the world, with the pride and arrogance of any young prince. Had he sworn he could fly, it is likely the Gods would have provided him with wings in the moment of leaping from the cliff.

Every chance he had to get on my nerves he took, and yet we had strangely bonded. Perhaps it was because we had always been the only children of our age in the court. Either way, I saw through him and he saw through me.

-

It was a golden afternoon with the sun hanging low in the sky as summer in the Woodland Realm was drawing its last breaths. The leaves around us had begun shifting colours, making it slightly more difficult to spot the apples we had been sent out to harvest.

As we trudged down towards the core of the apple tree grove, Thranduil had gotten a hold of a stray one and was carelessly slicing it in his hand with a small, sharp dagger. I glanced as he fed himself the slices and absently toyed with the knife, hooking his long finger into the bronze hoop at the end of it and swinging it around.

“You’re going to hurt someone,” I stated with a scowl, staring down at his careless hands. Rings adorned almost every single slender finger of his, each one shinier than the next.

The Prince looked at me, pulled out of his daydreams, and he smiled darkly as he secured the dagger in his fist instead. The rings gleamed in the setting sun.

“Are you frightened?” he asked with a curl of his lips and watched me through his dark brows. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“You could not hurt me even if you wished to,” I countered, but before I had the chance to lay my dismissive eyes back on him he had shoved me by the waist and caged me in against a massive oak tree behind me, the sticky blade of the dagger pressed to my cheek and his height hanging over me. Always one head taller. The half sliced apple had dropped from his hand in an instant and my lower ribs had taken its place in his palm.

“Could I not?”

The serene forest around us filled with the sound of my breath falling from my parted lips. Thranduil stared back at me with a smirk as his forehead brushed against mine and his fist tightened around the dagger, its blade on the verge of sinking into my skin. His one brow twitched, awaiting my response.

“Do it,” I challenged and raised one of my brows as well, my fingers soundlessly grazing the hilt of my own dagger at my hip. He licked his lips and flashed his playfully smug smile for a second. Just like when we were little elves. Play-fights and wrestling matches were always the pillars of our early kinship, and there were many times we had returned home at sunset with mud, grass and blood stains all over, expecting disappointed stares and sighs. We were toying with war before we knew the true meaning of the word.

“I do not wish to hurt you, mellon nin. I merely enjoy watching you squirm.”

Something burned and tingled inside me at his words but I scoffed again.

“I do not squirm,” I replied and forcefully shoved him off of me, to which he laughed and sheathed his dagger again, securing his long, pale hair behind the soft points of his ears.

“At least you’re never bored with me at your side.”

Thranduil hooked his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in for a tight half-hug. I smiled viciously up at him and jabbed my blunt dagger hilt into the relaxed flesh of his side, making him wince in pain and let go of me.

“And you’re never safe,” I joked and took a step to my side, desperately chasing that strange tingling feeling away. His calm laughter loomed behind me as I picked up the pace and took a right turn towards the apple grove.

The clearing housed a handful of ancient apple trees, massive with twisting trunks and branches drooping with the weight of its fruit. The tall treetops had parted to reveal the sky to us, painted in lavish oranges and pinks. At the northern horizon stood the tops of the Grey Mountains, Ered Mithrin, bathing in the last sunlight of the day.

Thranduil planted his feet soundlessly at my side. Always an arm’s length away. Our elven hearts had settled peacefully in our chests, instinctively pious towards the beauty in the nature of our land. There was not a trace of smugness left in The Prince’s smile now. This was his finest of forms; reverent and sincere.

“A mountain needs no tongue in order to speak to you, ears in order to listen, nor arms in order to hold you,” he quoted a proverb of old, his voice smooth like the soft breeze that danced past us. He was one with the woodlands. His sharp nose was a steep mountain wall, his sleek muscular build a young tree and his eyes were icy lakes in the winter.

We began stuffing our woven sacks with apples from the mossy ground.

“What do you make of the Lady Calathiel of Lothlórien?” Thranduil asked after a beat.

I stopped to glance at him, unsure of how to respond. He avoided my gaze, continuing to pick apples. I knew he had encountered the elf maiden on a visit to the Golden Wood of Lothlórien and I knew she had left an impression on him, having pestered me with lengthy recalllings of their conversations. However, I had not known his mind still dwelled on her. It had been nearly two moons since his visit.

“I do not know her,” I said in truth.

“I mean to propose to wed her.”

He continued picking apples absently and I continued standing still, my bones frozen in shock. He had never before shown this type of interest in anybody, save for his own reflection.

I suppose I had never imagined a life where Thranduil was not constantly at my side, where we were not always two halves of one - albeit dysfunctional - whole.

The Prince peered up at me now, putting a hold on his harvesting for a moment and standing up straight again.

“Oh, melda, you must not worry. You will always be the elf maiden of my sweetest dreams,” he cooed, mocking my stunned silence. His smirk dripped of conceit again. I snapped out of my shock and narrowed my eyes at him.

“I can not wait for the day you are the Lady Calathiel’s burden in my stead.”

Thranduil chuckled as I steered my eyes away and began gathering the apples at my feet, ignoring the burning sensation in my core.

[miss-conjayniality]

enhyungline as mariah carey songs 🦋🌟

genre: fluff. PURE FLUFF!

pairing: enhyungline x gn!reader

word count: 1766

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS DAAHHHLLIINGSSS!!! 🌟omfg i meant to post this over a week ago 😭 but I’ve been soooo fawking busy with life and I got sick but I’m all good now so here y’all go! as a huge engene AND lambily, I wanted to pay tribute to the queen of christmas by assigning different songs by her to our beloved enhyungline! 🩷 christmas may be almost over but mariah’s got a vast catalogue that’s classic, timeless, and sonically diverse. i’m a mimi stan all year round dahhlliinnggss 💅🏼 I’ve been meaning to do this for a while too🫣

also…can we fucking TALK about how enhypen dropped an EP called daydream, which also happens to share the same name as one of mimi’s BEST ALBUMS EVER!?!?? GOOD FUCKING GOD!!!! THEY DID THIS SHIT FOR ME ISTG!!!!

ALSO….i definitely didn’t cry or get delusional while writing this🤠🫣

P.S.: heeriah leerey IS in fact mariah’s adoptive son. I SAID WHAT I SAID! PERIODT.

HEESEUNG: MUSIC BOX.

“when i am lost, you shine a light for me and set me free. when i am low, you wash away my tears and take me through the loneliness and emptiness. through the darkest nights, somehow i survive through it all”

“your love is strong enough to lift me up. if i’m afraid, oh baby. you chase away my fears and take me to a brighter place.”

do you remember those music boxes you loved during your childhood years because they would open up to little angels dancing around in circles to melodious tunes? heeseung is exactly that - in human form. being around him evokes feelings of nostalgia and comfort because he reminds you of a simpler time when life felt magical and full of wonder. his presence is like the soft melody of a music box, enveloping you in warmth and tranquility, making you feel cherished in a way that feels timeless.

heeseung is a dreamy, delicate angel come to life. he has a calming energy that feels timeless and effortlessly comforting. the type of lover to cuddle with you underneath a weighted blanket after taking a warm soothing bath together. the type of lover to steep green tea for you, watch vintage disney films with you, and softly hum sweet melodies to you as he holds you close, making you feel cherished and at peace in his embrace.

heeseung’s love feels like a safe haven, a quiet sanctuary where time slows down, and the world outside fades away. his presence is a gentle reminder that even in life’s chaos, there’s always space for warmth, tenderness, and the beauty of simple, meaningful moments. with him, every shared glance and unspoken word feels intentional, like he’s crafting a world where love is soft, steady, and substantial. he has a way of making you feel as if you’re the only person that matters, wrapping you in a sense of security that feels both grounding and ethereal.

with heeseung, love feels like being carried through life’s storms with unwavering strength and care. when the weight of the world feels too heavy, his arms are always there to be wrapped around your shoulders. his quiet reassurance dissolves your fears like the clouds in the sky after a thunderstorm.

heeseung is an uplifting lover. when times get rough, he encourages you to overcome your fears and persevere through the madness. just his belief in you alone could move mountains. in his arms, you feel safe enough to dream again, his love lifting you from darkness and showing you the light of brighter, better days ahead.

your admiration for heeseung is never-ending. there is no one before him that could ever match his level. and there’s certainly no such thing as “after” once he appeared into your life. his warm, compassionate nature is rare in this cold, harsh and cruel world. you are his sunshine, and he is your sunshine protector. ever since you met him, he’s inspired your sense of adventure.

whether it’s buzz lightyear action figures, legos, or stuffed animal deers, heeseung serves as a powerful reminder to never neglect your inner child 🩷

JAY: VISION OF LOVE.

“treated me kind. sweet destiny. carried me through desperation. to the one that was waiting for me. it took so long. still i believed…somehow the one that i needed would find me eventually.”

“i had a vision of love. and it was all that you’ve given to me. i had a vision of love. and it was all that you turned out to be.”

you CANNOT tell me this man isn’t the personification of this song. jay HIMSELF is theee vision of love! PERIODT.

jay is the type of lover most people envision when it comes to experiencing true love. not just romantically. but on every level. eros. philia. storge. agape. in a world of fakers disguised as lovers, jay floats above the fray and proves that love is real. the lover whom you’d encounter by chance one day, only to realize he was the one your soul had been searching for all along. you had been trying to hard all these years to seek out love, yet eventually you found him…unintentionally.

jay’s embodies the type of love that’s even better than what you witness in novels and films. even in the mundane tasks such as filing taxes, doing the laundry, etc., he makes it enjoyable. and because of those enjoyable moments, he inspires you to conquer anything life throws at you. that’s how transformative his love is. he’s the reason why you’re so grateful for life, no matter how tough it gets.

jay doesn’t just love you in the extraordinary ways (i.e.: buying luxury gifts, or wooing you with lavish vacations). he loves you in the unassuming ways too - the kind of moments that go unnoticed. for example, if you’re nervous at a public gathering, he’ll recognize that feeling and hold your hand tight. sometimes, he’d look at you like you’re the only person in the room. or maybe he’ll give his jacket to you when you’re feeling cold. no matter what the situation is, his attentive love reminds you that you’re never alone. it’s the love that strengthens you, grounds you, and pushes you to believe in the beauty of life, no matter how unpredictable it may be.

sometimes you even wonder how on earth you managed to land such a generous, patient man like jay. the gratitude you hold in your heart for him is unmatched. it’s hard to even believe he’s real. but there he is. as real as can be. sometimes you cry because you’re afraid he wouldn’t love your imperfections - such as the way you manage your emotions under stress, or the moments when you doubt yourself.

but jay would assure you that no matter what, you are worth loving. and you are his vision of love too.

JAKE: YOURS.

“you brighten up the moon and stars at night. you keep me seeing rainbows in the sky. you bring new meaning to my life now. i believe in miracles. baby, i’m forever yours.”

“i keep thankin’ the lord above for blessing me with oh so much. ‘cause i know how it feels to be part of you boy. everyday my life’s so abundant with joy. and i honestly never thought love could be real until the angels guided you to me.”

jake is a living embodiment of the australian sunshine. because he HIMSELF is the australian sunshine! whenever he walks into any room, the whole place brightens up. his presence is the midas touch. he’s the rainbow to your rainy days. it’s the little things that make you fall for him even deeper. his hospitality towards other people, the way he treats animals and children, and his overall selfless nature.

jake’s love is bountiful. he knows how to make you feel cherished in ways you never thought possible. he remembers the subtle details - your favorite song, the way you order your coffee, the board games you enjoy, and the sparkle on your face whenever you see layla. he turns them into valuable moments of connection. with him, love isn’t just spoken in grand declarations, it’s the kind of love that speak louder than words ever could. ultimately, love is a verb. it is performed through daily actions.

with jake, the level of gratitude you possess has increased. he has a way of shifting your perspective, helping you notice and appreciate the little things that once went overlooked. you know…like the beauty of a sunrise, the tranquility of a quiet moment, or the comfort of simply being together. quality time is his love language. he is the living meaning of “quality time”. no matter how minuscule a moment may seem, he inspires you to see the beauty in those moments. his unwavering positivity and selflessness inspire you to find happiness in even the smallest of blessings.

jake’s positive attitude is contagious. it even influences you. he’s what it means to be a miracle. he’s a warm and nurturing lover to you. he’s the partner whom you’d be happy to share and embrace your life with.

in fact, he’s more than just your significant other. he’s your best friend and your partner-in-crime. he’s….yours.

SUNGHOON: I’LL BE LOVIN’ U LONG TIME

“there's no stopping you and me. i'll be loving you long time (as i can breathe). i'll be loving you long time (eternally).”

“don't care what no one has to say. they don't understand us like we do. i need you near me night and day. together, there ain't nothin' we can't do. scoop me up and we can go to that little spot where no one knows. spend a little time just us alone. you can caress my body and never let go.”

sunghoon is the kind of lover that just randomly appears in your life one day. he is someone who starts off as your friend first, and gradually becomes your lover. hoonie isn’t one to open up so easily. he’s guarded with whom he shares the fullness of his heart with because he’s someone who loves deeply. and he can’t bear the feeling of heartbreak. he craves a stable, healthy, wholesome relationship void of petty drama.

sunghoon is a loyal friend to you. he always supports your endeavors and is a shoulder to cry on during the rough times. he’s exactly everything a good friend should be - someone who listens without judgment. the type of friend who remembers subtle details like your comfort film or your favorite dish. he brings light to your life even during the darkest moments.

sunghoon eventually finds himself falling for you, his best friend. and it hurts him because he fears that you don’t love him back. when you noticed him behaving unusually and not interacting with him as much, he had no choice but to reluctantly confess his feelings for you. when he noticed the tears falling down your eyes and the smile that formed on your face, he was caught off guard from it.

finally, you admitted. someone who feels the same way about you the way you feel for them. the moment you gave him that initial hug, he too hugged you back. as your friendship evolves into courtship, you two are in it with each other for the long haul. that was the moment when both of you never looked back. you are each other’s allies and confidantes. you are each other’s lovers and friends.

you two love each other for life. your love for each other is unwavering and timeless. it’s the kind of love that feels both magnetic and enduring. sunghoon’s style of loving isn’t the kind that’s frequently communicated through histrionics commonly seen in films and literature. his loyalty for you is shown through his daily actions. ultimately, sunghoon knows that real love takes sincerity and discipline. he has a natural, effortless charm that that captivates you, not just in fleeting moments, but in ways that linger and stay with you long after.

he’s a reminder that true love is about consistency, depth, and a connection that withstands the tests of time.

[starartist]

Hi! I just discovered your blog and it’s wonderful! Your art is great, and it’s impressive how you’ve improved since the start of this blog!

Long live Zutara nation! 💙❤️ Wish you good luck creating and a lot of feedback, you deserve all the best!!

May I ask about your story of falling in love with Zutara? Did you ship them as soon as while watching ATLA for the first time, or did it take time to realise how awesome they were? Maybe some creators from the fandom were the ones who showed you the beauty of Zutara?

And the second question: what are some of your Zutara head canons? You probably have hundreds of them, so feel free to provide only the favourite ones!

That’s all for now, have a good day! 🫶✨

Hiii, thank you so much! 😊 I've been working hard to improve my drawing skills, and I'm glad to hear that the progress is noticeable✨️

I fell in love with Zutara when I was a kid and watched Avatar for the first time. Honestly, I was a bit disappointed when I saw the kiss between Aang and Katara in the final episode🥲. I had hoped that she would end up with Zuko until the very end. Of course, I've watched Avatar another 100 times since then, but that's okay. Later, I started seeing Zutara fan art on Pinterest, and I really enjoyed looking at them. About two years ago, I bought a tablet with a stylus just so I could draw on it. Honestly, at first, I was drawing myself and Zuko together, trying to insert myself into the story—whoever says they didn't have a crush on Zuko as a kid is lying! 😂

One day at school, I was drawing some human figures and thought, "Hey, this could be a Zutara fan art." When I finished it, I debated whether or not to post it on Tumblr, which I had installed just to look at Zutara fan art. So, I uploaded my first piece, not expecting even 20 likes, but the Zutara fans really liked it. From then on, I started drawing almost every day at school and posting my works and ideas.🫶

My favorite Zutara headcanons, even though there are hundreds of them, are:

• The Fire Nation Ambassador- if Katara had stayed true to herself, she would have become a powerful politician, serving as an ambassador for both the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe, dedicated to maintaining peace across the world. Naturally, she would have grown closer to Zuko and they would fall in love❤️‍🔥 .

• The Fire Lady Katara- just imagine if Katara and Zuko had ended up together—I think the show would have ended with Zuko's coronation and him proposing to Katara with a necklace, or maybe even their wedding where Katara is crowned as the Fire Lady🔥.

• Love After the Agni Kai - Imagine the Agni Kai is over, and while Katara is healing Zuko, he confesses the feelings he has long kept hidden inside. He declares his love for her, and she admits that she feels the same. And they are kissing💋.

• Love Without War - Imagine if the Fire Nation never declared war and peace prevailed. Avatar Aang's era has passed, and a new Avatar is born���Katara from the Water Tribe. While traveling the world, the time comes for her to learn firebending, and she is assigned a talented young prince, Zuko, as her teacher. They fall in love, and the rest is history💞. (This is my idea, and it’s for the next drawing that you’ll soon see on my profile)

I'll get back to regular drawing in two weeks as soon as I return from vacation and start my final year of high school. I have a thousand ideas for new pieces, and I hope you all will enjoy them! 💙❤️

[beaker1636]

Baby It's Cold Outside - Vinny Mauro College AU Smut

A/N: So I know I said no requests posted until Fridays and Saturdays but I am so excited about this one, I absolutely love it. It may be my best smut story to date at almost 6,000 words! So I decided to post it early because I am too excited and can't wait to share it! The request was literally just Vinny Christmas Smut, and while this doesn't touch a lot on Christmas it is where my mind went. Hope you enjoy!!

God damnit, you groan in your head as you trudge through the cold weather towards the house of your classmate.  Of course Vinny would skip one of the final classes before winter break, making your teacher ask you to take the assignment to him… meaning you had to walk out in the cold, and had to do it this morning before the storm hit.

Truthfully you could have done it last night but you just didn’t want to, preferring to return to your dorm room so that you could sulk about the task you are currently doing in your head.  You’re hoping that the rest of the guys he lives with are gone already, so you only have to deal with him, but who knows.  You honestly were shocked when you found out he hasn’t left to go home for the holiday yet, he is extremely close to his family.  Yet another reason for you to be jealous of him, but you would never admit that.

You finally walk up the sidewalk to the house, knocking on the door.  You don’t expect him to answer right away given it is only 10 in the morning, and any usual college student would still be sleeping in at this point in the day on a day of no classes.  So when the door opens almost immediately you are almost caught off guard, to be met with Vinny standing there, tousled hair from sleep and a smile on his face.

“Hi, I was sent to give you the homework you missed.  Because Prof decided you needed to be miserable over Christmas break.”

Apparently you shouldn’t have said that, because Vinny immediately laughs, his bright grin on his face while you try to dampen the emotions in your chest that it made you feel, reminding yourself that he doesn’t like you in that way. Bringing yourself back down to earth not focusing on how attractive he looks right now.

“Thank you, why don’t you come in for a moment before you get too cold.  Have a cup of coffee in thanks for bringing this all the way here for me,” he offers, stepping aside so that you could step inside the house around him, his voice still rough from sleep.

You slowly step inside, taking in the warmth that your body was craving and letting your eyes wander around the empty and clean house that he shares with his band that they’ve formed.  Last time you were here was for a party where a window was broken by Ryan while playing a dumb game and people were everywhere, a moment that had you too close to Vinny that you are praying he was too drunk to remember.

“Where is everyone else?” You ask curiously, not taking off your coat or boots to give the wrong impression that you were going to get comfortable.

“They all left already for the holidays, I was the last one to get a flight that leaves in a few days unfortunately.”

Oh, so it was just the two of you alone.  You tried your best to look normal, unfazed by this revelation despite the fact that you are currently nervous being in such close proximity, worried that your crush that you have been hiding for years is going to break through.  Though you had to admit it was painful, the fact you have waited for years hoping that he would notice you but he never did.  You were still boring old y/n from highschool, despite the fact you are now in college together.  You have always just been friends, and you accepted that years ago unfortunately.  Nothing has changed through the years except he somehow got hotter than is fair, more than any other guys your age, but that is besides the point.

With you lost in your mind it gave Vin a chance to watch you, trying to figure out what he did wrong.  Ever since that party a few weeks ago things have been different between both of you, you giving him the cold shoulder most of the time, and he can’t even remember what he did. He noticed you looked stiff, but didn’t want to ask what you we’re thinking about and scaring you off like he has always been good at.

“Come on, let's get coffee,” he offered, moving to lead you towards the kitchen but noticing that you hadn’t moved.

Truthfully, you are trying to figure out what your excuse to leave can be, wanting to head out the door and never come back, not able to ignore the clear edge in his voice.  He didn’t seem upset though, in fact something a bit more was in his gaze, even if he seemed friendly, not on guard.

“I’m serious, you have to be freezing, it is damn near below zero and windy because of the storm moving in.  You’re still shivering and have your coat on. I can even loan you a cup to take it in if you want to leave that bad but I would rather you at least come in and warm up some,” he says, giving you a warm smile.  Hoping to coax you into staying for at least a little bit, so he can pick your brain, figure out what he did to upset you so much.  

Damn him, now you can’t leave without looking like a jerk, he is being so friendly it would look bad if you said no.  And truthfully as cold as you are coffee does sound nice right about now.  

“Sure,” you say. “I could use some heat, but I want to get out of here and to my dorm before this storm officially hits.”

The tension in the air disappears as you follow him into the kitchen.  You watch as Vinny pours you a cup when suddenly you hear the wind pick up, the lights flickering in the house and you panic.  This was not good at all.  The weatherman said the snow storm wasn’t going to be here until tomorrow and now it is hitting early, you never would have left your house if you knew it would hit early.

“Should we be worried?” You ask, you hate storms of any kind and the lights flickering makes you anxious, worried that the lights will go out and that you will be stuck here, you don’t want that.  

“The house doesn’t always like wind and storms, especially as windy as it is getting.  Cream and Sugar for your coffee, correct?” He says, deflecting your question, trying to distract you because he remembers how much you hate storms.

“Yes please, so anyways should we be worried?” You ask again, watching him pull some creamer out and pour it into your cup and adding a little sugar before handing it back to you with a smile, hoping that it was correct.  Watching your expression when you take the first sip, hoping that you enjoy it.

“Good?”

“It is good, thank you,” you say with a smile, taking another sip as you close your eyes to take in the warmth from the cup before you glance at him with a stern look. “Okay now stop distracting me please, I want you to answer my question.

You meet his eyes, watching his reaction closely as he goes to answer, but as he does the house goes dark, like something has been pulled over the windows as the power goes out.  You glance out the windows and notice that it is dumping snow, suddenly anxious at the weather change.

“Fuck, that actually just happened.  Thank god you got here before it suddenly hit,” he says, giving you a nervous look before helping you to the couch and pulling his phone out of his pocket to pull the weather up.  “They’re talking about downed wires and power outages, that we need to stay inside.  Guess you are stuck with me for now.  Thank god we have the fireplace and a lot of wood in here, I will get that going.”

Vinny says before scurrying off, getting started at lighting the fireplace so that the two of you have some heat, even if it isn’t a lot it will be enough for you both as you watch him, your nerves growing as you listen to the wind howl.

He gets it going and then walks off, before returning with a thick blanket for you, laying it over your lap before starting to light some candles that he found, bringing a little more light to the room around you.  “I’m going to grab some blankets to insulate the house as much as I can, fill the gaps under the door and windows.  Want to help?” He asks.

You get up and help him do that, to help prevent the cold air from making its way into the house that is already getting cooler, both of you somewhat miserable in the rest of the house and letting out a sigh when you sit on the couch, pulling the blanket over both of you.

It is now that it hits you that you are stuck here with Vinny, sitting closely to him on the couch.  You try to ignore the fact your stomach is in knots, you aren’t sure if it is nerves because of the storm or because you are so close to him right now… or maybe it is both.

“Hey, I know storms freak you out.  How are you feeling?” His voice startled you, but you quickly relaxed into the warmth of the blanket.

“Uhh a little cold, but alright I think.  At least I am not stuck weathering the storm alone in the dorm,” you say softly, trying not to let out just how cold or freaked out you actually are at the moment.

“Shit, you are cold,” he says the second his hand rests on yours to comfort you, able to tell it is bothering you more than you are letting on.  “Stand up for a second, I will move the couch closer to the fireplace.”

You do as he asks, watching as he moves it closer to the fireplace before both of you settle on it again.  This time he sits a lot closer to you, pulling you into his side without a word, you know you are blushing at this.

“This will help keep you warm, if you are okay with this,” he says sheepishly, realizing that he probably shouldn’t have just done that, hoping that you aren’t mad.

You nod, not responding as you sigh contently, curling up next to him and taking advantage of his body heat.  Truthfully, he only did this so he could be close to you, wanting to feel your touch, but he wouldn’t admit that out loud.  He adjusted to pull you onto his lap, letting you soak in his body heat that he is sharing while your face is pressed into his neck. 

“Thank you, this is…. Nice,” you say shyly, glad he can’t see the look on your face as you are probably blushing again.  You are gladly going to take advantage of this, it’ll haunt your dreams for months to come.  You move, your hands resting on his arms, making him jump.

“Fuck, you are freezing.  Why are you like this,” he says, shivering slightly at your cold touch, making you giggle.

“I don’t know, I just always have cold hands.  I’m sorry,” you say softly, moving to pull them away but his hands rest on yours, holding them to him.

Neither of you say much for awhile, just basking in the warmth from the fireplace while curled up together under the blankets.  Eventually a hand is in your hair, gently stroking it, letting it run between his fingers for several moments, making you sigh and lean into him more, enjoying the gentle touches.  He hears your quiet sigh in his ear and continues, enjoying the fact that he can tell just how sensitive you are to his touch.

“You’re sensitive there… Where else?” He asks you, you are almost able to hear the smile in voice as you try not to answer, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. You also are not wanting to admit this to him in fear that he will stop touching you, and you are enjoying it, even if it is only your hair too much to let him stop.

He takes your silence as his permission to keep going and slowly slides his hand down the side of your neck before settling close to your collarbone, gently stroking it while trying to gauge your reaction.  Satisfied when you let out a soft moan, letting him know that you are enjoying his touch right now, more than you probably should when he is barely touching you.

“You are a mess huh,” he says lowly, continuing to lightly run his fingers along your collarbone, teasing you, wanting to draw more sounds out of you.  “I can keep touching you if you want, doesn’t have to be anything naughty, just this.”

You want to be alarmed, want to say no and fight him off when his hands move down, roving your covered hips and thighs briefly before returning to rub circles along your neck, happy that you are now leaning into his touch.  He is pretty sure he knows your answer even if you won’t say it out loud.

“I- I mean I guess. It was… it felt good.  But won’t this change things between us?” You ask, embarrassed at everything that is currently taking place.  To be admitting that the man is barely touching you and you are already thoroughly enjoying it.

“I think things changed at the party, don’t you?  Can I ask you a question about that night?” he asks you, hands leaving soothing circles against your lower back.  Trying to keep you relaxed enough that you won’t try to run when he asks what he wants to ask.

You nod, him feeling the movement against his neck where you still have your face nestled, glad he couldn’t see how much you were blushing.

“Would you have actually slept with me that night if Rick didn’t walk into the room?” He asks, his hands moving to your hair again as his nails lightly move across your scalp, the feeling almost distracting you from his question, you trying to think of the best answer you could come up with.  When you don’t answer him in the time frame he feels like waiting he lightly pulls on your hair, making you gasp.

“I asked you a question y/n, don’t be rude and ignore it.”

“I-I don’t know, maybe?” You mumble, embarrassed that he is asking you this.  That he is bringing up that night again.  That you are being forced to think about the night you shamelessly kissed him while drunk and it led to more between the two of you… and the fact that you fled the second you got the chance when Rick accidentally walked in on both of you.

“You don’t have to be so shy, you can admit that you would have. It’s only us here and I think you are just as into me as I have been into you for years at this point,” he says cockily, knowing that you are getting anxious and will want to end this conversation. 

He distracts you by moving his hands down the back of your neck, trailing along the soft skin with light pressure, trying to work the tension out of your body as his hands slowly work on it.  Wanting to relax you, to make you comfortable with him. 

“Okay, so I do have a crush on you.  But I can’t say yes for sure because I-well I’ve never done that before so I don’t know if I would have agreed or not that night,” you admit, somehow feeling safe and comfortable in his arms, with him, to admit to him that you are a virgin despite being in college now and aren’t sure what you want or wanted that night.

“Okay, now it is my turn to be caught off guard.  I didn’t expect that to be what was holding you back.  I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry,” he says softly, worried that he embarrassed you too much and made you uncomfortable, if he made you admit to a secret that you weren’t ready to share with anyone.

Neither one of you speaks as he continues to lightly rub your neck, something that you feel like you should not be enjoying but you are. You are enjoying his hands on you much more than you probably should, and the way he gets you to shift every so often on his lap is making him a little harder than he feels like he should be right now.  Worried you will notice it and it will bother you that he is.

“Is this okay,” he asks, reaching for the zipper of your hoodie that you have on, hoping that you will let him remove it.  When it hit you what you were asking you said sure, pulling away from him a little so that he could do so, letting him slide it off your shoulders.  

He slips his hands under your thighs for a moment so he can move you, your back now against his chest as you lean into him, into his touch and warmth as he settles his hands against your now exposed collarbone, running his hand over it gently as he continues to lightly touch you.  His goal now is to make you enjoy his touch, make you crave it and possibly allow him to touch you elsewhere, get you to recognize that you enjoy it.

His fingers brush over your throat as he moves to your other collarbone, making you quite aware of where his hand is.  You breathe in, and hope that he can’t feel it, that you are aware that if he barely moved he would be able to choke you, something that you don’t feel should be such an arousing thought to you but it is.  But he does realize what the barely there touch just did to you and settles his hand at the base of your throat, not applying any pressure but rather lightly stroking it with his thumb as he feels you take a couple shaky breaths.  Praying that he can’t see the more than likely flushed look on your face, the half closed aroused look on your face because you don’t want him to know what he is doing to you right now.

“You still good?” He asks, checking in on you with a low chuckle.  He knows that you are, can tell by how you are shifting and breathing but he wants to hear you say it.

“Great,” you say softly, regretting the word choice that you just used.  You don’t want to come across desperate despite the fact that is how you feel at the moment.  

“I’m glad, tell me if you want me to stop.”

His hands start to slide down, lightly gliding over your breasts, making you gasp slightly but his hands keep going, settling on your stomach while he lets out a chuckle.

“It’s just us, you don’t have to hold anything in.  Please don’t, let me hear what I am doing to you,” he whispers in your ear, his hands settling on your hips.

His fingers lightly digging into the soft flesh there, rubbing circles just barely under your shirt as you continue to try and hide how you are feeling, not wanting him to stop but also still not willing to show just how much you are enjoying this, enjoying him.  When the hell had you gotten so warm, maybe it was a bad idea to let him move the couch up closer to the fireplace.  

Before too long his hands settle on your lower back, between the two of you.  Firming massaging your tight muscles there, trying to work out all your anxiety you are holding, because again, he wants you relaxed, enjoying this.  He wants to enjoy having his hands on you, getting to worship your body as much as you will allow him because he doesn’t know if you will ever give him this chance again, and even if you will he now knows that this is your first time doing anything like this and wants you to enjoy it, not feel used at all.

His hands slowly work there way up as he feels you continue to slowly unwind under his touch, now much closer to your ribcage when they slide back to your front, teasing you right under where your bra sits, trying to gauge if he is allowed to keep going or not.  Judging on how you sighed into his touch and leaned into him he is pretty sure that you are allowing this.

You stiffen slightly when you lean back into him, you are able to feel how hard he is against you, but quickly relax again, and shift yourself against him slightly because while you haven’t done much you have read plenty and are confident that he will hopefully enjoy it.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, slightly embarrassed that you noticed, worried that it will make you retreat back into yourself, but it doesn’t.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you say softly, playing dumb.  And while you know that he isn’t stupid and that he knows that you know why he’s apologizing, you felt that would be easier.  To ignore it and pretend that you aren’t aware of what is happening with him, because honestly you are too far gone at this point, he could do just about anything he wants to with you and you would let him.

The tension between the two of you finally snapped, him urging you to turn back towards him and the second you do his lips are on yours. Moving against your own urgently, wanting nothing more than to feel you closer to him as you now straddle his lap, your own arms around his neck as you lightly move your hips against his own.  

One of his hands is still under your shirt as he slowly slips it off of you, his hand starting to slowly ease the cup of your bra out of his way before he gives up and unhooks it with his other hand, giving himself more room to touch you.  To lightly squeeze and palm your breast underneath the cup of your bra, holding back his own groan when he hears you lightly moan against his lips.  His fingers move so that they can lightly rub over our nipple, feeling it harden almost immediately from his touch.  He hesitantly slides the straps off his arms, going slowly so that you have time to stop him if you want to, but you don’t.

He pulls his lips away from yours, looking at your face as he continues to toy with your nipple between his fingers, trying to read your face, loving the flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes that he sees.  

“You’re so sensitive.  Has anyone ever touched you like this?” He asks, face moving to your neck as he begins to lightly kiss and suck on the sensitive skin there while he moves his hand to your other breast, giving it the same attention as you continue to move your hips, now seeking that friction between both of you.

“N-no,” you whimper, trying hard to keep your composure and failing, it is so hard to focus with his lips in such a sensitive place and his hands teasing you so much.  You never expected to enjoy any of this so much and now that you are, well it’s making it hard to think, all your reservations now slowly slipping.

His hands slowly move, now slipping down your torso towards your waist, leaving more teasing and light touches right above the waistband of your jeans, dipping barely under it before slipping back out while his lips find yours again.

“Can I take your jeans off?” He asks you in between kisses as he slowly moves, laying your back down against the couch while he leans over the top of you, aching to touch you, to feel how wet he has made you.

You tense at his words and he immediately notices, pulling his hand away to settle on your cheek, stroking your jaw lightly as he pulls his lips away from yours, making you look at him.

“We don’t have to keep going, again, this is whatever you are comfortable with.” He says gently, eyes meeting yours as he tries to give you a reassuring smile, one that slightly worked.

“Jeans can come off, but I- I don’t think I am ready to go all the way, so panties are staying on please,” you answer, hoping that he won’t be upset with you.  

“I can work with that,” he says gently, moving so that he can slip his own off, kicking them off his foot while you slowly slip out of your own.  

You watch as he removes his own shirt too before he settles back over you, bringing his lips to yours again, much softer than before, as if he was trying to reassure you that everything is going to be alright, that he isn’t upset that you aren’t willing to completely go there yet.

His hand slowly slips down between both of you while you held your breath, unsure what to think, embarrassed because you know that you are soaked and he is going to feel it, know just how much of an effect his hands are having on you.

His eyes go wide when he finally settles his fingers over your covered slit, moving lightly against it, able to feel how damp your panties are under his touch, incredibly turned on by the fact he has made you this way.  He slowly moves them to the side so that he can actually touch you, feeling your arousal on his skin as he lightly moves his fingers between your folds, coating them before using one to circle your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath.

“Fuck,” he groans softly, pulling away so that he can look at your face, taking note of how you seem to be a permanent shade of red at this point, and enjoying that you are.

His attention returns to his hand where it is down below, now really starting to work his fingers against your clit, giving you more pleasure than you have thought imaginable.  This is definitely much better than when you get yourself off in your bed at night, it feels so much better.  You don’t try to hide your moan when it slips out of your lips, encouraging him more.

Your hands winding into his hair as you pull his lips to your own again, you honestly don’t think you can get enough of them at this point.  Of his lips on yours, swallowing all your sounds as he drags you closer and closer to the edge, making you question why you never let him do this sooner.

When he finally pulls you over the edge your whole body tenses for a moment, your back arching and pressing your chest into his as you come undone at the hands of someone else for the first time.  He pulls his lips away from yours again so he can watch you as you do, the sight more arousing than any of the porn he has ever watched, than any of the other women he has been with before.  

When you relax under his touch he leaves a couple gentle kisses on your lips, wanting you to feel comfortable and able to tell that he cares about how you are doing as you both smile at each other as your chest heaves from your heavy breaths as you come back down.

You don’t say a word as you push on his shoulder, urging him off of you before you glance at him, shy but determined.  Feeling a new sort of confidence as you want to return the favor, want to make him enjoy himself too.

“Lay down Vin, please,” you ask him shyly, hoping that he listens and allows you to do this without questioning you.  He looks at you for a second, reading your face before speaking.

“You don’t have to touch me you know,” he says softly, wanting to make sure you don’t feel forced into anything.  While you appreciate this, and find it incredibly sweet you still want to return the favor.

“I know, but please?” you ask again, watching as he processes your question and lays back, his back against the cushions of the couch as he listens.

You slowly move the band of his boxers down, watching as his length springs free from its confines before you hesitantly wrap your hand around it, barely gripping it as you move your hand up and down, stroking him gently.  You’re assuming that you are doing this right based on the groan that leaves his lips as he watches you, egging you on to continue your touch.

His hand wraps around yours, encouraging you to grip him tighter before letting it go, letting you continue on your own as he throws his head back for a moment, almost unbelieving that this is happening right now, but it is.

He moves to watch you again, seeing you gain confidence as he grows closer and closer from your touch, before he finally finishes his cum decorating your pretty hand while you watch his face for a moment, looking away the second his eyes meet yours, embarrassed.

“Hey, don’t be shy with me now. Let me go grab something to clean your hand up, yeah?” He asks, sitting up and giving you a soft kiss before walking away, returning with a towel and a shirt for you to slip on after you are both cleaned up as you both sit in the awkward silence for a moment, watching the fire.  You can tell he is thinking something, but you aren’t sure what.  

“What’s wrong,” you ask him quietly, turning to look at him.

“Don’t worry about it, it is nothing bad, promise,” he says softly. “Just stupid shit.”

“It’s not stupid if it is bothering you Vin,” you respond, reaching out to lightly rub his arm, wanting him to be open with you as you just were with him.

“I’m worried I fucked up by doing this, because I gladly would do it again but would you? I feel like I pressured you into it,” he admits, refusing to meet your gaze as he continues watching the fire.

“You asked more than once if I wanted you to stop, and I didn’t.  And you were right, things changed at the party a few weeks ago between us and no matter how much I want to deny that I can’t.  You were sweet, making sure that I was alright the entire time, and even if I wanted to I can’t deny I’ve wanted more between us for a while,” you respond, somehow having a new found confidence after everything.  Maybe it is just because you have seeing him unhappy, unsure of himself but you felt the need to reassure him, to let him know just how you feel about him even if you are risking him feeling the same.

“It has always been you y/n, since we were stupid kids in highschool until now.  I guess mauve I should have told you sooner but it’s true,” he says, now turning towards you.  Hoping you can tell that he is telling you the truth, that you are happy with the truth.

“Really?” you ask with a slight smile, unable to help yourself when it spreads across your face.

“Yes, now if you don’t mind I want to kiss you until you ask me to stop, until this blizzard stops and we can’t anymore,” he says with a smile. “How long was this even supposed to go on?”

“A couple days, so we may wind up stuck here for Christmas unfortunately,” you respond softly, a little disappointed that you might not be home for the holiday, it didn’t hit you until just now when you two started talking about the storm again.

“Well, good thing we have enough wood for a few days, and we just may wind up having our first Christmas together in the process.  And that gives me plenty of time to enjoy this” he says, pulling you into him so that he could kiss you again, making you giggle.

“I guess so.”

[fire-but-ashes-too]

(Writerblr) intro post!

Hi! welcome to my blog! this is my (very late) writerblr/general/artblr intro, or just somewhere with all my general informations :)

please, go on and read *bows*

☆ Ash is my name on here and i go by she/her

★ Im a teen writer and artist, but i dream of acting

☆ im from italy

★ pan ace and quoiromantic (or wtfromantic its the same) (im still kinda questioning tho??? probs demiromantic??? idk?? feelings r weird atm)

☆ entp and introvert

★ im always up for tag games or stuff like that :)

☆ recently added tags! #ash writes- my writing ofc #ash and her rants- just me talking abt random stuff could be anything serious or not #ash on fire- probs me fangirling over something lol i may get overexcited beware

★ i relate to a spiritual and psychological level to black cats and all their other forms (aka regulus black, tori spring, aristotle mendoza etc etc etc)

i mostly write fantasy or fanfiction, but sometimes i engage in various genres as mystery, dystopian or surrealism :)

★ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

genre: fanfiction

audience: general/ teen and up

tropes: rivals to lovers, college AU, slow burn, a lot of fencing, paris✨

cw/tw: past rape/non con, ptsd, homophobia, wounds/blood

progress: i try to update every week but nothing's promised 🥲

snippet here:

Years ago he’d learned to mask his handwriting, so now he could easily forge any handwriting he wanted, if he was given a good example of it being used. There was something extremely interesting in how each person connected two letters to each other. How they wrote an “ar” was different from how they would write an “or”, how much the words were apart from each other and how much pressure they put in the paper told a lot about someone, to him it was like zodiac signs. He didn’t always have to copy other handwritings, not unless he wanted to throw the blame on that person. He just had to invent a brand new writing style, and be careful to not slip his between the cracks. And that’s exctly what he did in the letter. Before Jesper could finish his monologue about how much he had missed out in the past few months holed up in his office, a blackmail threat was ready to be closed inside the paper envelope, just the signature was missing, but he didn’t bother to add it. A proper threat always had to be anonymous, it was always better to give as little information you could. Everything could be used against you. The maroon wax sealed the opening with a satisfying fizzling and a single wisp of smoke. The clock chimed on the wall, it was already 6 pm, he had to go finish some assignments.

(previously titled: questionable decisions)

☆ The Rogue

genre: fantasy, dystopian

audience: teen and up

setting: a fantasy world im currently busy (trying) building

progress: just vibes really, two mainc characters, a couple sides and an outline plus one of the first chapters, not much really but im working on it

characters:

anne: the rogue from where i took the title.

shes a 17 y/o girl who lives in a bunker in a forest, on the run from the government as she's a "high traitor and liar who must be destroyed".

she has the ability to modify her face and appereance for a while and she has a prosthetic arm connected to her virtual friend Indigo.

thanks to it she's able to teleport and keep track of various things.

alexander: the son of the dictator, he's lived his life in a bubble until 2 years ago, when he finally managed to get more social contacts with people and (slightly) catch up on what he's missed, behind his father's back of course.

he meets anne when she's captured and figures she's his best shot at escaping his father domain.

snippet:

This time, she materialised in the shadows behind a bulding, which gave her enough cove for her to shift her facial features. Her nose a little bigger, her hair some shades brighter, her eyes more elongated and greener than the grass growing outside her doorstep and a splash of freckles to top it all off. It was way harder to do it without a mirror, and way more dangerous. For all she knew, she could’ve been looking like a girl with a fish head, and she didn’t know if that would be better or worse than looking like herself. Anne took out a hat and a silk scarf, she wrapped it around her neck and jumped in a group of tourists gazing at the city. In no time she was in the square, vendor’s stands circling her, colourful flags waving in the wind. She could’ve stayed like that for ever, stuck in the memories of her old life, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.

★ Flowers and Homicide

genre: mystery

audience: general

cw/tw: blood, dead bodies, autopsies

main character: Giada

she's a forensics student who one day stumbles (metaphorically) over a dead body in her neighbour's lawn and starts investigating.

progress: actually finished but in italian sadly so in the translation process

☆ Confessions of a timeless man

genre: short story, surrealistic

audience: teen and up

content warning: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression

plot summary: a man is stuck living the same day over and over, after almost 10 years there, he tries to escape his curse by killing himself

progress: completed XD

(here's my ao3 btw)

you want to know more about me! why than you, here you go!

★ my favourite artists are Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Arctic Monkeys, Chase Atlantic, Marina, Lana del Rey, Sabrina Carpenter, Mother Mother and Billie Eilish (theres more but i cant remember whoops)

☆ synesthetic bitch

★ other than writing, art-ing and reading i love baking/cooking and crocheting

☆ theatre kid over here, always up for screaming my lungs out

★ uhhh im a vegetarian

☆ i know a scary amount about death and murder (especially poisons)

★ i dont have a specific vibe, it usually changes every few months or so

☆ i probably have anxiety but ive never been to therapy so idk 💀

★ always up for fangirling :3 (im in too many fandoms *cries* buuut im most active on pjo, marauders, grishaverse and osemanverse, musicals and some books that i have boards for on my pinterest :D)

☆ i am terribly scared of insects, needles and dogs

★ my (quite unusual) sport is aerial dance, a circus speciality that looks really cool but is acctually really painful

☆ my pinterest, spotify and goodreads if by some reason you're really interested in the chaotic human being that i am :)

thank you for reading this farrr🥹🥹

have a great day/night/life :D

[meowthiroth]

been meaning to post these here for AGES now but I keep forgetting to. explodes 💥

but ANYWAYS! i redid the ref art for my Stranger oc from Myst/Riven! and also finally got around to drawing the aged-up version I thought up for him between Myst 3 and 4.

also wrote out a sort of messy bio for him a while ago, which i'll put under the cut since it's kinda long lol

ACE

Basic info

• Born October 7, 1782. He is 24 during the events of Myst & Riven, 33 during Exile and 42 during Revelation.

• He stands about 5’6” (1.6m) and is around 120 lbs. Pretty scrawny and definitely built better for agility than physical power.

• He is transgender and uses he/him pronouns. That caused quite a few problems for him back home, given the social climate at the time. He really doesn’t like to discuss his past or his birth family & will quickly change the subject if asked.

• He's very kind, easygoing and silly, and he loves to help others. But he can also be quite scatterbrained, forgetful, and prone to emotional manipulation.

• While he can be a bit absent-minded at times, he’s actually quite intelligent & quick-thinking, and he excels at problem- and puzzle-solving. He often cracks Atrus’s puzzles within mere minutes, but then can't recall his thought process when asked how he did it.

• Most of his favorite pastimes involve creating and fixing things. For instance, he’s very skilled with a needle & thread, and he makes and mends all of his own clothes. Drawing is another big one for him— his journal contains a lot more doodles in the margins than actual writing.

• He also LOVES animals, especially frogs, reptiles and bugs. He’s good at reading animals' behavioral cues and often has an easier time gaining their trust than most people would.

Early life/childhood

• His birth family were early settlers in the Northwest Territory, moving out west with him in tow when he was just a small child & starting a homestead there. His family consisted of his father, mother, and 3 brothers- 2 older and 1 younger.

• His gender identity caused friction with his family later in his childhood, since they had assumed he was just a tomboyish child and would eventually grow out of it. Obviously, though, he never did.

• His refusal to adhere to his assigned gender eventually escalated to his parents viewing him as hysterical & mentally unwell. Things only continued to get worse as he grew older, which eventually led him to go on the run. He kept a low profile & travelled mostly on his own for years, pressing farther into uncharted territory in an attempt to get as far away from his family as possible, which was how he first stumbled across the Myst linking book.

Life with Atrus & family

• Despite everything Saavedro did at the start of Exile, Ace still finds himself understanding of the man's predicament (perhaps relating the experience to his own upbringing in an abstract sort of way), and he takes it upon himself to help him get home by any means necessary. He often wonders how things worked out for Saavedro after their encounter & genuinely wishes the best for him.

• Slight deviation from canon- After the events of Exile, Ace got so worried about someone else coming after Atrus and his family while he was gone that he insisted on staying with them to help keep an eye on things. He moved in with them in Tomahna and helped out, both with Atrus’s projects and just general home/family things. He sort of took up the role of another older brother figure to Yeesha.

• Over time, he begins to view Atrus & Catherine not just as friends, but sort of as a new, more accepting family. He's definitely slipped up & called them “mom” and “dad” by accident before. SEVERAL times. He was really embarrassed about it at first, although they weren't bothered by it.

• He and Atrus work well together! Although Ace can’t write his own Ages, he often helps test Atrus’s creations and suggests ways he could potentially improve them. His ideas tend to fall somewhere in between Atrus & Catherine in terms of realism- a little wacky but still somewhat grounded in reality. He’s also quick to remind Atrus to take breaks & not get TOO into his work.

• Ace also spends a lot of time back home with Catherine and Yeesha. He does a good job earning his keep by helping around the home, and he and Catherine often like to bounce ideas off of one another. He finds her creativity super impressive, and a favorite pastime of his is to try & draw various creatures and landscapes that she describes.

• Since he lives with the family in between Exile and Revelation, Ace learns about what happened to Atrus’s sons much earlier than in canon, and he often tags along with the family when they visit. Usually he doesn’t go visit the brothers by himself, since he isn’t sure how comfortable Atrus would be with that, but he has offered to deliver things like care packages to them before & he’ll often stop to chat with them for a while.

• Ace has sort of always felt drawn towards Achenar. Despite the older brother's obvious shiftiness, Ace couldn't help but feel bad for him. He'd actually collected every blue page and was going to free him before he was (thankfully) stopped by Atrus. Despite being made aware of the attempted trick, Ace still forgave Achenar pretty quickly after seeing how much he’d changed over the years, and now he's always eager to go visit him with the rest of the family. The two get along surprisingly well & become close friends over time, and Ace will often stay behind to talk to him long after the rest of the family decides to head home from their visits.

• Ace, however, has always gotten bad vibes from Sirrus ever since he first arrived on Myst. He already has a disdain for greedy rich-guy types, and Sirrus always struck Ace as very disingenuous and closed-off, which further limited their ability to connect on an emotional level. Deep down, though, Ace still has a soft spot for Sirrus, and often displays it by teasing him in a playful little-sibling sort of way. While Sirrus generally finds his jokes more annoying than amusing, it clearly isn’t malicious and at least breaks up some of his day-to-day tedium, so he begrudgingly tolerates it.

[strewnsouls]

cuddle me

art by 6uooU on twitter/x.

hello hello~ i figured i’d start posting some older things i’ve written to my tumblr, since a lot of them are pretty short and i don’t think they’re worth posting on ao3. without further ado, enjoy the fluff!!

“Hex, honey,” you half wheeze, half laugh due to the sudden weight on top of you. It was only a few moments ago that you were typing away on your laptop, finishing up an assignment you’d been working on since the early morning. A hand adorned with rings then closed the lid of your computer, and you looked up to find a pouty blue boy staring back at you. After reflecting the same expression back at him, he let out a whine. You asked him what was wrong, and he wordlessly put your computer to the side before motioning for you to lay down, which you did with a brow quirked in curiosity. 

And now you’re here. With Hex on top of you, practically crushing you beneath his tall stature. “Darling,” you try again, which only earns you another whine and an attempt at burying his face deeper into your chest. You let out a small laugh with what air you had left in your lungs, your hands coming up to card through his hair. “You know, if you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked. I was almost finished my assignment too!” He only huffed in response to your playful chiding, propping his chin on your clavicle and staring at you indignantly. “No fair. I want your attention. Why do you have to study all the time?” 

Although he very much knew the answer to that question, you still responded, if only to appease his need to hear your voice. “Darling, you know I have a lot of work to do with school. You could easily sit with me while I work, or have me in your lap. Well, as long as you promise not to be handsy..,” you trail off. To that, he smirked, his hands sliding up underneath the hem of your shirt, “Never. I always want to be handsy with you.” And with that, he began tickling your sides, to which you immediately started to thrash around as best you could while still being under him, bursting into a fit of giggles and pleas for him to stop. “H-Hex..! No.. no more tickles! Please!”

It seems he decides to spare you, stilling his movements in favor of placing his hands on your hips. “Okay, okay… I guess I’ll listen this time. But damn, I missed hearing your pretty laugh. Your voice. Seeing you smile. I just.. missed you.” The pout from earlier returned to his face, and you stared up at him with twinkling eyes. You loved him so much, as silly as he could be sometimes. 

“My love, I’ve missed you too. But we literally live in the same house together. You always have me here, and I’ve already told you; you can join me while I study. Even if we don’t talk, you could hold me, or vice versa. I’d even give you a few kisses if you promised not to be too distracting.” He sighs, seemingly weighing the options in his head as his gaze flits back and forth between your eyes and lips. “Then I guess I’ll be joining your study sessions from now on. And I promise to behave. But only if you make good on your promise of kissing me.” You laugh, your hand rising up to cup his cheek, gently rubbing your thumb against his soft skin. He leans into your touch, eyes shutting briefly. “Of course, sweetheart. You know how much I love kissing you.” Your voice is lower this time, as if you didn’t want to disturb the intimacy of this moment with him. 

In a moment, his face was much closer to yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. With a whisper that left you breathless, he kissed you. “And I, you, my love.”

[canaidliafail]

untitled

streamer ellie Williams x dancer reader 🌿

Id call this an excessively long shitpost. It is in the same timeline with staygrounded but I wrote it down for self indulgent reasons such as -to no ones surprise- venting. It ain’t good btw but its getting better I think.

CW: first of all, reader is a dancer/ dance teacher || short mention of self harm || MDI: there are sexual themes if I remember correctly || Ellie being very gay

If you by any chance do enjoy this concept I don’t mind writing a part 2 tho. Requests are open ✨

“you blame it on the drugs I dont give a fuck cause the damage is done,

and you talk about suicide, its the way you manipulate”

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47 ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

gossip, rumors, spreading a false narrative and falling in love with being a victim of life and most importantly a victim of you.

So many things that could have been said about her. So many and yet all sat stale at the tip of your tongue. You wanted to rip her to shreds, put a curse on her and considered spending life in prison for premeditated murder. Then you cried and just prayed she would leave you alone and that she would find happiness and that you would never hear anything about it. You scratched your arms, the stitches holding your flesh together getting irritably itchier day by day. flesh that you so willingly sliced a week ago and regretted right after.

It was fucking embarrassing to fall to such depths of despair and misery cause of love. In life we allow things to happen to us. Saying that was comfort of some sorts. It gave you control over a situation that you were dragged around like a puppet.

Could truly another person's venom poison you this irreversibly?

And while you did crave love and attention you refused to humiliate yourself by asking for it,let alone admit to it.

“she didn’t love you, she loved the idea of being with you. You have to realize it baby, You are a known figure now…People will do that to you. This is a whole new world you just entered”

You shook your head and dully stared at the screen playing lo-fi on loop

“New world ? Feels like I'm back in high school”

You sat on the other end of the couch numb and mute. It had been a week since you spoke to your roommate and two since you last saw your whole friend group. You warned them

“I can’t talk but I really need you”

and they came and would chime in to whatever little but you were willing to share that night.

You all woke up around the same time the next day, exam season not really willing to cooperate with your mental breakdown and started getting ready. You had already failed 2 subjects. shit was not going your way so on the fourth day you just gave up and decided to go with the flow

“how bad can it get”

bit of advice fellas, never fucking say that cause it CAN get worse.

While initially you were well prepared for exams, You mixed up the days when you were supposed to submit assignments and the days when you were taking a written exam.

2 failed subjects, 4 more to go.

4 failed subjects… 2 more to go

Hot girl summer just doesn’t feel the same once you hit your 20s it seems.

_________________ 𓆩♡𓆪 _________________

You were aimlessly watching one story after the other,barely there and hardly caring what exactly you were looking at. Abby had just posted one cryptic photo with a girl you saw around in the community and smiled. You could tell something was going on with her and that other streamer girl and you smiled. You thought they were a good match and quite frankly you were just glad to see that some people were doing better in their love life than you ever could. It gave you hope that things like that still existed even if you weren't meant to experience them. Ellie had also just posted and you took a minute longer to appreciate her slender form dressed in tights and a top while horse riding. She was hot and she knew it and you liked that attitude of hers. You checked the next story which was a black screen with a text

*I fell off my horse two minutes after taking that pic*

And chuckled. Your eyes drifted off to the green square mark and cocked a brow

Oh?

So you were in her close friends ?

You sat up

“Wait since when has she-” You asked yourself out loud and noticed that indeed she was following you. In the midst of working on new content and getting out of your depressive slump you started checking your social less and less too busy with dance practice and trying to enjoy life and it seemed like in the middle of your subtle break things…. Happened

Maybe a few months ago when you were down bad for her this would’ve affected you but now you just shrugged and closed your phone. You need to get back to practicing a new dance combo for a video and you couldn’t be bothered. Your ex had scared you off from dating public figures for good. Dating was a strong word…You hardly wanted even a fling at this point.

You got dressed up and put on a wig, fixing your makeup in place and making a movement test before you went to the studio to record the new choreo so that you could only worry about the variation and not have any unnecessary technical issues. The studio was a few minutes away from your place by bus and you put on the songs you planned on rehearsing to get in the mood on your way there humming softly and tuning out any other thought polluting your mind.

There's was a text notification from the user

Elliefuckingwilliams

Which you forced yourself to ignore refusing to entertain whatever she could have texted you. If this was a month ago maybe you would have but now you didnt want to.

_________________ 𓆩♡𓆪 _________________

Ignoring her was your plan until you posted the new video of your dance which admittedly you did look good and may have been one of your best videos up to date. Ellie Was the third like on that post and she had shamelessly double texted you. You chewed on your lip nervous and uncertain

“She texted me again”

Ophelia, your roommate, peeked her head from her iPad and looked at you curious

“Who?”

“Ellie”

“ELLIE?! WAIT THE ELLIE?!” She jumped up and for a moment you for sure she came for your throat but instead clutched the blankets on your couch

“And what do you mean again ?! When did all of this happen ?”

“Relax it all started today and you know I wanted to tell you once we had time to properly hang out” You said fighting back a smile knowing that this was a victory. Ophelia had suffered you for months crying over your ex, then thirsting over Ellie and then back to square one. You owed her an update on your emotional affairs which you swore that they would stay stagnant.

“So what did she say ?”

You opened the Direct messages

Elliefuckingwilliams: Hey I have a question

Elliefuckingwilliams: Is your studio in Seattle ?

Elliefuckingwilliams: I have a project and am looking for a dance instructor. Let me know if you would be interested in a collab

“Ah. Just work stuff it seems”

“EXCUSES SHE JUST WANTS TO EAT YOU OUT AND IS LOOKING FOR A EXCUSE”

“You are shameless”

You stared at each other with a smirk fighting to break through, wanting to seem equally serious despite the ridiculous situation.

“She does not”

“She does. I’m betting 50 dollars”

Oh fuck off ill just roll you a blunt”

“A WIN IS A WIN” she said with her hands in the air “No come on! Respond already you are driving me crazy”

You rolled your eyes and considered her offer. You were taken aback cause Ellie didn’t seem like she would do anything with…dancing. However you weren’t new to influencers trying new things to get back on the algorithms favor so you brushed it off as her chasing new heights to her already growing fame.

-Hey, I’m not sure where you are exactly and it isn’t my studio. I am just renting the space but I could give you a lesson or two

Elliefuckingwilliams: Sweet! When are you available ? I have a gap next week otherwise it can be next month

You stared at her immediate response and quirked your brow in approval. Professional and straight to the point. You could respect that. Not what you were aiming for. You tried to ignore the previous conversations you two had that showed above her new messages. Your fruitless attempts at getting her attention in the most stupid of ways. Can’t blame a girl for trying. Shoot for the stars they say. You’ll land on dirt but hey, at least you gave it a fair shot and therefore no one could blame you for trying.

-This week is good. Say Friday ?

Elliefuckingwilliams: Yeah yeah cool! I'll text you the day before so that you can tell me your location and everything

You pursed your lips and turned to look at Ophelia who was on all fours on your couch desperately trying to steal a glance at your phone screen. You tossed it on one of the floor cushions

“Not a date. I’m just gonna be her dance instructor so looks like you owe me that blunt”

“Nu-uh. Bet you’ll be raw dogging in the studio. We will see who wins on Friday”

_________________ 𓆩♡𓆪 _________________

“And the dance floor is filling up with blood, But oh, Lord you’ve never been so in love”

ELLIE’s POV

Ellie was convinced that God had specifically hand crafted her body to be incapable of dancing. She had no coordination and perhaps was even tone deaf which was ridiculous for someone who played the guitar and sang. Not that she was a pro at that either but who creates a musician who doesn’t understand how to step on notes in any way other than with an instrument ? So now that she had texted you she was frantic, bouncing her leg up and down and chewing on the flesh around her fingernails.

“What's gotten into you?”

Dina asked while folding clothes. She was at her and Jesse's apartment for the night and she had yet to tell them about her new crush and her impatient attempt at getting to see you as soon as possible. Ellie was aware of you as a creator. Be it from a post-share on her friends stories or you falling on her timeline she would see you here and there. She vividly remembered a month where you peaked and she went from seeing you once every two months at best to seeing you every week. And she was curious as to why was everyone going crazy over you and your content. You seemed to interact mostly with Abby’s girl.

That’s how Ellie referred to the girl Abby seemed to be crushing on. In a game of broken telephone and who told what, Ellie planned on seeing how close Abby was with her girl and if that was close enough for her to ask if she could…well ask her about you and then somehow for that information to get back to you.

But all that plan failed the second Ellie asked

“So is Cotton dating anyone?”

And Abby took that horribly wrong and now was set on gatekeeping her. Ellie was awkward and a mess and couldn’t communicate properly what she wanted because to her, what she asked was obvious and had no hidden meaning or intention but the world around her didn’t work like that and she struggled so fucking hard with it.

Ellie’s second grant failure was when she followed you back. She was sure that you wouldn’t have missed it. But the silence was so loud it was deafening. You were still posting but you were otherwise quiet everywhere else. You rarely even watched her stories at this point so Ellie decided to grow a backbone and some balls and directly message you.

She flinched at the dry responses she gave you to your previous interactions which back then seemed professional but now they seemed…So distant.

Finally, she texted you.

and you responded.

“Dina I did a stupid thing”

Dina tossed the clothes in the wardrobe and kicked close giving up on tidying Jesse’s shit

“Ok, stupid how? Like speaking money or-”

“I texted my crush-”

“You have a crush?”

“Yes and so I texted her and-”

“Who is she ?”

“A content creator, anyways so I texted her”

“WHo?”

“Dina can you let me talk?!” she said frustrated and Dina grinned. She went to the kitchen aisle to grab a bottle of water and tossed another one Ellie’s way. She leaned against the counter listening to her friend endless yawping about this new crush. she called her twice a day until Friday, and would recite every move and gesture she planned on using to seduce you. Dina would turn each one down by saying

“You do realize that when you see her you will just shit your pants from excitement and won't say anything right?”

So ellie would hang up and call a few hours later with a new plan that aligned more with how she typically acted.

When Friday came she showered twice and changed outfits over and over again, as a result she was late. She was proud of her fit since the sleeveless turtleneck did a nice job at hugging her slim, well built frame and showed off her toned arms that took years of calisthenics to build and paired with a baggy pair of sweatpants she felt like she had the biggest dick in the city.

But once she parked outside of the studio you mentioned cold sweat ran down her spine and her hands felt clammy and sticky from anxiety.

what the hell am I doing

she questioned and rested her head against the steering wheel. She drummed her fingers on the soft leather and hummed a melody to ease her nerves till she heard light tapping on the window. She lifted her head and looked up and there you were. hair loose, shorts and a baggy graphic T that had a faded graffiti-like artwork of spiderman.

She hated how much she loved the sight in front of her.

she opened her door and slid out trying to gather her stuff in a hurry

“Hi sorry, were you waiting long? I missed the bus and had to wait a bit until the next one came…”

“no no! Its cool I was just, ugh trying to calm down cause I'm nervous”

you smiled and lowered your brows in empathy

“I assumed you would. You don't have experience in dancing right? Or at least you haven’t mentioned it anywhere”

She winced at how obvious her lie was and she didn’t know how to answer to that

I don’t dance but If that’s what it takes to fuck you then sure I can learn how to do a Ronde de Jambe

“ah yeah you got me there, I’ve never danced before”

“That’s cool with me. Just curious on what piqued your interest to start now. New hobby or…?”

“yeah new hobby!” she hurried to answer, glad that you inspired her on what lie to use for the day.

You nodded while checking her out head to toe and before she had time to boost her ego and assume that you did because you found her hot you said-

“Hm. I will need you to wear tighter pants next time so that I can see what you are doing with your legs. But for today it's fine”

and took the keys out of your duffel bag

“Well. Ellie williams. Ready to start?”

“ah yeah just, be gentle…? I've never done anything remotely close to dancing with my body and I might be pretty stiff”

“Don’t worry about it. I've had every type of student and all of them managed to pull a few cool moves in their second month. If there’s a will there’s a way”

she smiled more nervous than before. You were formal and professional leaving little close to no space for her to get flirty and she was at a loss. She should’ve done more research on dancer etiquette so that she wouldn’t have looked like such an uneducated swine but there was no point in getting angry over that now.

“We will start with basic breathing exercises and a warm up just to get you in the swing of things. We will start with body isolations”

Ellie stared at you from the mirror as you showed her the first few basic motions

“Alright so for the warmup just follow my lead”

you grabbed the remote and put on “never ending song” by Conan Grey which had a pretty standard rhythm and was easy to dance along to. Ellie was in awe with the plasticity of your body, every move being a continuation of the previous one all like a rolling tide of emotions complimenting the beat and the beat complimenting you.

On the other end, Ellie was too embarrassed to look at her own reflection

“alright so first to isolate your hips from your chest” you said and let the next song play. You laid your palm flat on her back and pointed a bit below her collarbones holding your fist in the air

“move with me, breathe in” you said and she tried to copy your move watching your chest rise. You shook your head

“no, I need only your chest to move. Relax your shoulders love” you teased with an easy smile and Ellie by now was a mess, from the proximity and from the simple exercise of trying to move your breathing pattern

You were oblivious to it all going from one body part to another occasionally fixing up her posture and tapping the part that she had to focus on, but all hell broke loose in your brain when you laid your hand on her stomach asking her to clench and unclench her core hunching within herself.

“You were so dramatic before, look at you Els. You just needed a little basic guidance “ you encouraged and she smiled and looked at you in excitement, oblivious to the fact that when she turned her head she was a breath away from accidentally kissing you

“ah! I-“

you smirked and pulled away

“I've been rehearsing this one choreo, best way to understand these exercises is through a dance routine. How do you feel about that?”

Ellie agreed and while dancing she kept being thrown off balance at the sharp turns that she had to take which in return slowed her down and she would miss a few steps. You let the music play in the background and let out an awkward chuckle

“Fuck ok this is my fault see I forgot to tell you about spotting”

“Spotting?”

You nodded and you pushed her back by her shoulder freeing up a line for you

“See when we turn, we always have a spot” You said and stepped into the appropriate preparation to do 8 simple turns, your head always snapping the back to the invisible mark you held with your eyes

Ellie pursed her lips. Seemed like such an obvious trick but one that went completely over her head

“Now I see that you struggle to look at yourself in the mirror, Which is fine. I’m sure you'll get used to it eventually, so instead try taking a few turns while holding eye contact with me, yeah ?”

You offered and she took a couple steps back

“Ugh…what were all those moves you made before spinning?”

“Oh don’t worry about that,thats ballet stuff. Just spin. Bent your elbows and hold your arms against your chest if it helps”

Ellie started off slow, picking up the pace as she neared you, eventually losing sight of what was in front of her

“Wow-wow-wowwww I got you” you said and steadied her by her shoulders and held her in place. She looked up at you taking in deep breaths, cheeks flushed and eyes wide open with her lips parted in a soft smile

“That went well, How do you feel?”

You said and you gently rubbed your thumb against the naked skin of her biceps.

“Great, I… I liked this it makes more sense now”

She said filled with excitement

_________________ 𓆩♡𓆪 _________________

Every time Ellie liked your story you felt your heart skip a few beats. You were in the studio for your solo dancing practice and kept bouncing from one leg to the other to keep your muscles warm while you scrolled through your phone to find some inspiration or a pic that you could post and in return give Ellie an opening to respond to. The image of her timidly trying to follow along through your every move, her flushed cheeks and her voice shaking did things to your brain chemistry, re-wiring its entire structure and flow. Every time she posted a story with a smug smile and pants lower than her boxer briefs you just laughed remembering what a shy and soft mess of words the girl was and felt an unhealthy amount of endearment. A spark re-ignited in your dead heart and you liked it. You liked ellie when you didn’t know her, and you liked her even more now that you did.

By now it had been…a good two weeks that consisted of 4 dance practices that you had with her. The first time you saw her up close all you thought was a “huh”

And then a “she is shorter than me-“ which for you was dangerous. You had an incredibly soft spot for masc lesbians who were shorter than you. Unfortunately they were never attracted to you though. You had always attracted the exact opposite of what you wanted and you blamed that on your overly dominant attitude.

On the second day you both had the same idea of treating each other to a coffee and so you ended up with 4 paper cups of iced almond milk lattes which you laughed about for a good 10 minutes

“We are so in sync!” You commented and she nodded excitedly, blushing all the way to her ears.

On the third dance practice you purposely pretended to assist her and correct her to find an excuse to touch her and when you saw how positively she reacted to it you pushed on the advantage that you had, heavily , which made you believe that maybe there really was some kind of ulterior motive as to why Ellie was so set on having you as a dancing coach.

On the fourth day there was a shift in the tide and something was in the waters. Ellie had her hair gathered and decided to wear the sluttiest outfit on earth ( aka a white top and grey sweatpants )

She went to greet you with a hug and you noticed her perfume, subtle but there to make you lust after it. She asked if she could record the Dance you were rehearsing for a post and you felt alright with that. And she excelled. She was a fast learner and her body had a good flow. It did need polishing but she wasn’t half as bad as she claimed to be. The fifth video take was close to perfection and in her excitement she yanked you towards her and wrapped you in a tight hug which you immediately reciprocated eager for the contact with the sex God standing before you. You took in the blended smell of her perfume and her sweat which had you feel insufferable discomfort with how tight your pants were. Something about her raw scent had you horny like a dog and you had to clench your jaw in patience not to act out of instinct and try to get closer than needed.

You both laughed and she yelled in excitement “I fucking did it”

And then your voice followed, a bit quieter “I told you, you could do it” she pulled back her arm still on your waist, her thumb caressing the skin as she watched the video a second time in excitement. You took the chance to stand a bit closer to her while she in sync wrapped her whole arm around you and leaned her head against your chest enjoying the dance and pointing out things that you could do differently next time, all in the comfort of each other’s embrace.

She posted the video and in the daze of the excitement of seeing what you two looked like next to each other you forgot to worry about the fact that you were yet again getting entangled with a public figure. An actually big one. While your previous relationship was just your ex leeching off of you and your success, this one…it had to be different. Ellie had nothing to gain from you and you put your trust in that and in the fact that the two of you seemed to genuinely get along

You decided to text her first

“You impatient fuck. We could’ve filmed a better take tomorrow”

“You are such an ass, let me enjoy my accomplishments”

You started tidying up the studio and decided to leave your bag with your ballet clothes and pointe there since you would come tomorrow for Ellie’s lessons anyways. You chatted back and forth all the way back and you almost tripped on your staircase too busy typing a response. You banged your head against your door though thinking you had unlocked it to find that you didn’t. Ophelia opened it for you

“Girl?”

You looked at each other and you immediately broke into a smile the split your lips

“Ellie posted our video. And she left in the part where she hugged me”

“Oh-hooooo” she exclaimed and rushed you in. She tossed the mop on the side of the wall and nudged you to the couch abandoning whatever housework she was in the middle of to listen to you

“Aaaand we are still talking” You said smiling and Ophelia clapped cheering for you while you swung your way inside the house and fell dramatically on the couch.

“Oh my, I’m so glad the Gods heard our prayers cause I was sure I was about to send you off to priesthood”

“It wasn’t that bad”

You said with an offended gasp and she scoffed

“Honey, one more month and you were about to grow back your virginity. I’m just happy to see you back out there and not just with anyone but with The Ellie fucking williams!” She said getting louder with every word. You joined her cheerful demeanor hopping on the couch and you both started bouncing on it like kids in a playground

“I can’t believe this. I wanna wear something good for our practice tomorrow”

“Shorts and that nice red bodysuit!”

“But-“

“No buts! I know it’s uncomfortable but she will see you and rip it off right away so how much will you really suffer, you know?”

Ophelia coming through with the obvious answer to any and every world known issue was exactly what you needed to finish off your day. Though to be fair, if there was anything you should have listened to regarding -making a move on your crush- that would have to be her. She had a banging record of pulling every single guy she set her eyes on and one night standing them for her own satisfaction. Of course now she had her sights on someone specific but that didn’t change or erase all previously acquired skills in the flirting department. Despite all of that, You ended up rejecting the bodysuit idea because that would be a hassle to actually get off if things would go anywhere and even if they wouldn't, anything that tight during summer was a nightmare in general.

“Hey can I borrow that white top you have?”

“Borrow whatever you want and do whatever you want just never let me know about it”

_________________ 𓆩♡𓆪 _________________

on the day that you fully planned on making a move a couple things went wrong. First and foremost well, It decided to rain down which meant you had to run all the way from the bus stop to the studio in a hopeless attempt to preserve your hair and outfit. It didn’t do much since you ended up like a drenched cat either way but you refused to let your mood falter.

You tried texting Ellie to ask if she could bring coffee for you two.

Few minutes later she came in with two iced coffees, not a drop of rain on her which you were awfully jealous of. Her cropped hair was once again all gathered in a short ponytail and she wore two sports wristbands around her arms which did unimaginable things to you. It was good sight with her sleeveless baggy tshirt. Ellie just knew how to dress plain and attractive.

“Looking good” she teased when she found you furiously trying to dry the ends of your hair with a towel

“Shut up. Please shut up”

“So sensitive” she said and rolled her eyes making her way to you and taking the towel from your hands

“Let me help” it wasn’t so much of a request as it was a demand when she pulled the towel out of your hands and moved behind you, wrapping your hair in it and squeezing it to get most of the water out. You felt your body temperature rise at the awfully tender gesture and unsure of what to do you just fidgeted with your hands looking at the floor

“ I can drive you back to your place if you want”

“No, it's fine. Ill wait it out”

“No no, I insist. Let me drive you back and look cool while doing so”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as she rounded you up to give you the towel with a small shy smile, her cheeks a shade of pink now.

Practice was good if you were to ignore that Ellie seemed a lot more focused on your assets rather than the moves you were showing. You knew the biker shorts you were gave her a 4K view of your ass but you didn't expect her to be this obvious about it. You stepped back after a moment and just watched as she rehearsed the dance on her own and you were in awe on how much more comfortable she seemed with her body now

“Good. This one was very good. Want me to film you so that you look at yourself?”

you asked and she shook her head satisfied with the progress. You slouched on the ground, legs spread and ankles on your knees wiping the sweat of your brow carefully as not wipe your brow completely off with it and looked at the time

“Well we are pretty much done then for today. Unless there’s anything you wanted to ask me or anything else you wanna try doing?” you asked and Ellie followed your lead walking over to you across the room and crouching down on her knees in front of you

“Oh yeah I did wanna ask something”

“go ahead then” you said dreading having to get up. You didn’t have to though

“Can I take you out on a date ? for coffee perhaps?”

[withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus]

So you want to listen to AND -eccentric agent-?

…and you don’t know where to start? Well I got you. I like talking about my favorite bands and I love recommending music. And this my favorite band so buckle up xD.

Like my previous posts on this series, I won't get into basic details about the band, that's easy to look up. All you need to know, imo is that it’s unfortunately disbanded. Why you need to know that? Cause some people don’t like listening to bands that are no longer active. Another thing you might wonder is if the members are still active...hehehe...ah...Well it's complicated but I will try to explain:

So the vocalist, Ikuma, retired in 2020 and now runs his own café, but he gives heavy signs he wants back and there is a paid broadcast he's having on twitcast where he has shared music before so...I don't know if he really wants back or if this is just sth he enjoys doing in his free time. The lead guitarist, Kili, has retired and while I saw him at a label party, I don't know if he's still working in the scene as a manager or staff or he's completely out, now, but he's not performing, that's for sure. The rhythm guitarist, Peco, had attempted to come back about 3-4 times, but failed to find members he connected to and then he had a daughter so, on his final try, because Corona had just started, he decided to not pursue his dream for now, as he wants to make sure he doesn't get something and puts his daughter in danger. He has left it open whether he will try again when she's older or not. The bassist, Ken, retired after the band's disband in 2013 but last year or the year before, he returnt to the scene as a support bassist to idol groups. He's also set up a studio at his house so I think he too might be planning something. Finally, the first drummer of the band, Suzune had to stand down from the band he joined after AND, due to a health problem that affected his hands and made it impossible to perform, but he did stay active on twitter for a while and disappeared shortly after the one day revival live of AND last year (or two years ago, I have lost track of time). As for the 2nd drummer of the band, Kaji, after his departure from the band after AND he was with Ikuma, I heard he started another band which also disbanded and never found out anything more after that. *breathes* I know. It's a lot and I too got questions BUT ON TO THE MUSIC!

[side note: Some fans might disagree with my choices or think I should add 1-2 more songs, but this is just an opinion. If you wish to make a list of your own go ahead, every person has different criteria on what feels easier to listen to first, or showcases a band’s colors best.]

(*cries* where does one start, I listen to everything they've released. xD I'll try to retrace how I started to give you the best results)

If there is a word to describe AND's music I think "sexy" would fit xD. This was my first song. I used to see them recommended a lot on Youtube after looking up vkei around 2012, so out of all their songs I listened to, coming from a background of mainly pop music and being unable to listen heavy rock and metal, this managed to entice me want to know more. The guitars give such a raw feeling I just can't! Very cinematic, very video-gamey.

This song was such a rollercoaster for me to figure out whether I liked it or not, because it had the melodious side, but also the rock part I wasn't used to. But once my ears understood the assignment, honeys, this was an addiction. It's also the song that made me fall in love with Ikuma's voice. Goodness I'm gonna cry xD.

Another easy one, and one I found out, later, was rather popular at their lives. AND's songs had a lot to do with facing yourself and self-reflection. Ikuma's an exceptional lyricist (and Peco, cause he was writing some of the songs too) and all ANDo musicians gave me the most vkei sound I could ever ask for to start my journey in the scene.

I wouldn't have put this as a starter unless I knew how big of a deal the fans (agents) had made this release. I liked this song way after their disband. Now it's a strong favorite of mine but as a starter...maybe not for everyone.

Let's take you away from mvs now though. Cause AND's charm hid well in songs that had no pvs as well. Damn compression again but ho-neys! The cinema is real! xD Drums and vocals go brrrrr! xD The guitars are howling like wolves and the bass shakes the ground. If it wasn't early morning, your girl would be blasting it on my trusted grandpa woofer now. xD

Another amazing song to start to! And you get to hear lil'Ken-chan sing too! ^^

Again compression issues, but it's a beautiful song nonetheless. It always gave me a snowy feeling for some reason...when the sound is clean that is.

*Vibing and dancing around* Oh, you're still here! Yeah that's a good starter too *gets back to shaking it and headbanging*

If this song doesn't make you feel like you're on a damn mission I dunno what will. Listen. No listen!

I'm not even mentally here anymore xD. It's my cryptonite guys, I'm sorry. My IQ falls below 0 when it comes to this band. This is a very catchy song regardless and rather easy to listen to.

Another one I will suggest cause I ran out of videos: Lycoris

To this day I don't understand why this band disbanded, there were lots of stuff said back then, nothing confirmed, but I sure know a big name in the industry reached out to them at the last live and that is enough for me to know I was right in screaming how underrated they were. Btw fun fact; Kili, the guitarist, was a roadie to the Gazette. ^^ And both Peco and Kili have performed as support to a performance of Gackt's! Ok proud momma mode off. xD

I hope you find sth you like, if not, it's ok, we all like different things, but yeah, this was my attempt to entice more people listen to my top favorite visual kei band, AND eccentric agent.

[weirdo-autumn]

It's time to make a long ahh post on my OC just because

(This is going to be extremely long so be prepared-)

Nao Nishi (尚 二死), pronouns are she/they

they had a bit of a difference appearance, somewhat longer hair and an eye patch

They were more quiet, collected. While she still is, it was much more back then

They don't really care about what anyone says anymore- it's always the same insults repeated over and over again and she just got tired of it all

They love their parents dearly, along with present friends

Lonely as heck but hey, they didn't mind

...okay she did but just a LITTLEEE bit

They were the quiet kid in class, just doing she own thing

But if someone, such as a teacher, would talk to them- she would play a cheerful persona who acted like nothing was wrong

They have *such* a high love for samurai and warriors and japanese history and urban legends and all that- that's why they have her katana- that they got from their parents, hand-made

Also love scary stories

One time she wrote their own for a class assignment and they got an A

The best mark they ever got in her life, usually it's average

They also enjoy things like simply sitting around and listening to the sounds of wherever she is, like in a park, listening silently to the winds and possibly other people around doing whatever

They didn't enjoy talking with people much, because. yeah.

But now, they could talk all day but get embarrassed about it because god did she really talk this much

They have a love/hate for coffee

Things they really hate aren't much but- wasps, loud sounds/noises, getting sick, causing attention on herself, lying about anything to family/friends you know nothing special especially when they're forced to in a situation anyway-

Just two years ago, they lived in Japan with their parents- Liam and Nirako (韮高) ((designs in work)).

Back then, with somewhat longer hair, Nao never had their mask but an eye patch to cover her blind eye that they were born with, and because of that, it caused the people around her to be judged, mocked, and looked down upon.

Some of this madness was spread to their family but everyone's eyes were on and only on Nao.

Which was the absolute worst. But, they somehow managed to keep herself together- those were just complete strangers that didn't know a THING about them or her family, sure it hurt but those words meant practically nothing.

In school it was practically the same, whispers going around, laughter, mockery, same old same old. It was boring. And annoying.

But when someone with the name of Uso Akane (嘘 茜) came by,

" say... wanna become friends ? " he displayed a grin on his energetic face.

That smile.

That darn smile.

It made them sick.

Was it some joke? Some sick prank?

This entire time they've dealt with being alone but suddenly this guy shows up like nothing such a happy figure, does he really think she would fall for this?

" i don't think you're a bad person- " cut the crap, they aren't that stupid.

Everyone has talked about her.

Everyone thinks they're disgusting. A creepy little freak.

Why would anyone want to be friends with someone like that?

" everyone thinks and speaks on what they believe, but I believe you're actually kinda cool. This world judges people too much just for something simple as your eye. " he said, moving his hands in various ways to express more.

...

" you don't deserve that treatment, not one bit of it. "

" so, i'll ask again... " then, he stuck out his hand.

" can we be friends ? "

...

Why did he seem so desperate for a 'yes'?

That's what ticked Nao off the most.

They didn't know anymore if it was all a joke, a prank, or... nothing.

But... it could be...

" ...... fine. "

They wish she said 'no'.

They wanted to slap, hit, punch herself but. They chose this path.

She was just sick of being alone.

That friendship was all a lie yet thet stayed in that spot for so long.

His name is clearly a clue but NOPE. Apparently not.

Nao slid down to the ground, hugging their knees as they couldn't do anything but sit there as they overheard the familiar and other voices inside the classroom.

Go on and on and on and on about their disgusting, annoying, worthless, inhumane presence. A waste a space.

The complete usual for her, really.

It was gonna happen anyway.

And every single person was going to get a piece of their mind.

....... *click*

A year later, everything was back to normal.

Sort of.

Now, their hair is cut short.

Still the same old whispering and talking and mocking but it was less this time around.

Probably because of an 'incidence' that happened just a year back.

No idea what I'm talking about well-

Uso got outed.

By the half-sighted child herself.

Basically, Nao had hid as well as they could and with a tape recorder she bought, recorded every single time they were talked behind her back.

Ended up getting a recording of Uso hitting them across her face and that moment made everything so much better for them once everything came out.

She had kept it all inside.

So many emotions locked in.

They didn't even tell her parents, as too not worry the two more. They... had their own things to deal with after all.

Nao thought it was weird that not a single person found out but, maybe their fake little persona works in ways that even she doesn't know.

A happy, cheerful, just as energetic kid, as every other child.

But she hated it.

Their parents too.

It wasn't them but a mere, hollow, fake as plastic doll.

That no one but their parents truly loved.

Well, at least their dad did.

Nao never once wanted to act like that thing around their dad.

Her parents ended up divorcing, now it's just them and dad.

It was upsetting, but things like this happen- it's life.

Arguments are a part of that life too.

But doing to either of them would make them hate herself more.

But aside from all the baggage, this time around, they've been a bit more confident about herself, like, they simply don't care anymore.

She took off their eye patch ever since school ended, ever since she got up on that stage and gave it their all to the graduating students of their student- that was something for everyone to remember, especially by all the clapping and loud cheering by some people that made an impact on their school life it- it was something.

Those people will certainly never be forgotten, those two students and their teacher.

Nao didn't know whether to call them friends or simply acquaintances but they did mean a lot anyway.

Asahi Sakura had been there from the start- practically glued onto them, while it was annoying, she was genuine the entire time, even though she had to lie between her teeth with the others.

" gosh you're SO COOL!!! " she would squeal in utter amazement.

Then there was Hajimi Matsuno, the one who was the first to find out about what Nao was doing and how they really were.

" you're... something, all right... " he muttered as a nervous, breathless chuckle came out.

Their teacher, Osuka Akane, a kind-hearted women who treated Nao like any other person- with her warm smile and words.

" i may not know what you feel like, but you have every right to feel this anger inside. " she spoke softly, grasping the now broken racket from their hands.

It was the best Nao ever felt in their life, and it was even better to see and hear their dad to be so proud and happier himself.

So things were going well, even better as Nao didn't give a care in the world and acted more cheerful and upbeat- no longer faking it.

And soon, they both would be moving across the country- somewhere where they could move on and live a good future, with new people in their lives- make friends maybe even meet old ones

And certainly, Nao made those few friends.

...And a crush too. But I bet you know that bit already.

[stellarred]

True Q: Some interesting observations

***DISCLAIMER: A more lengthy post. ***

I saw True Q a couple of days ago, and it occurred to me that when you think about Q's demeanor in the episode and compare it to his demeanor in Tapestry and even DS9's Q-Less, it leads to some pretty interesting places .

#1. Q doesn't focus his attentions and affections on Picard like he does in the other episodes.

Q looks very detached from Picard here. He is all business with Picard in True Q.

In fact, except for the "Pals" moment, Q isn't very seductive towards his Favorite in True Q.

Instead, if you notice, Q directs his attention a LOT towards--Beverly. No, really he does.

He spends quite a bit of time antagonizing her.

He just does not like her.

Q interacts with Picard, sure. But, he is closed off from him.

#2. Q spends a lot of his time looking at Beverly.

When you watch the True Q episode, if you pay close attention to the direction of Q's line of sight, such as in the conference room scene in which he first appears, Q doesn't look at Picard that much, but looks at Beverly a lot.

In the final scene below when Amanda says goodbye, Beverly is standing in front of Q and Amanda; Picard is off to the side. Amanda is glancing at Picard, but Q's gaze falls in Beverly's direction. Except when he swears to Picard that he isn't responsible for the crisis on Tagra IV, Q doesn't even look at Picard.

#3. Q hates the assignment the Continuum has given him. Why would the Q Continuum choose Q out of all the other Qs, to bring Amanda to the fold?

Q is just NOT a happy entity in True Q. Was Q being punished? Was Q on trial to prove his worthiness or loyalty to the Continuum?

Was this why Q was colder towards Picard? Was Q humiliated?

If the object of your deepest heart's desire is watching you do a job that you absolutely hate, and one that you just want to get over with asap, you can feel a sense of, "Don't look at me. I'll pretend you're not here."

Because note that once the job with Amanda is over, and Q is free again in Tapestry, look how happy he is with Picard!

#4 Let's consider that

True Q first aired Nov 2nd 1992.

Q-Less first aired on February 7th, 1993.

Tapestry first aired February 15th, 1993

When Q appeared in True Q, he was theoretically with Vash.

Q may not have been getting along with Vash, which is likely considering she didn't really like him, and we know that Q liked to talk about Picard a lot.

Q got Vash away from Picard because he didn't want her to have him in Q-pid.

Vash = competition

Now, in True Q (Nov 2nd) Q sees Beverly, who is always around Picard.

Beverly = competition

I think Q was in a headspace where he was really frustrated that Vash and Beverly had Jean-Luc, and he couldn't have him.

#5. For an omnipotent god, Q has plenty of competitors standing in his way to Picard's heart.

**I could never figure out why Q said the things he did when he was questioning Amanda about her powers while Picard and Beverly were standing there.

Q to Amanda: Telekinesis? Teleportation?

(Turns to look at Picard)

Q: Spontaneous combustion of someone you don't like?

I never understood that line, because Q loves Picard. But, looking at that line from the perspective of Q having competition from Vash and Beverly for Jean-Luc's love, I believe Q was so sick of it and basically tried to ward off Amanda from possibly loving Picard, too.

Q was like: Not you, too, Amanda. You DON'T like Picard.

#6. FINALLY, well, we later have Q-less on Feb 7th, and one day after Valentines Day, Q is all happy to be with his Jean-Luc in Tapestry.

Q's demeanor is a gazillion times more pleased to be with Picard--no Continuum homework to do--and he has a chance to seduce Picard without any competition from women in his life.

Conclusion:

It's funny how the timing of episodes can contibute to a character's arc.

All Q wants to do is to love Jean-Luc Picard without any competition.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Here it is, the first of my tarlos @flufftober fics! I'm going for the full 31 days (so a fic a day the entire month of October) Let's see how many I'll actually post on time

Also Gabriel is alive because I said so.

---

Day 1 - "I've got you" (AO3)

“APD officer requiring medical assistance” Those few little words coming over the radio had the ability to turn the blood in TK’s veins into ice. “Ambulance 126 are you free? You’re the closest unit.”

“Medical unit 126 free and responding.” Nancy replied to the operator as the three of them got into the ambulance and buckled up. She started the engine and pulled out of the firehouse just as the officer’s location came through to their computer.

“It doesn’t have to be Carlos.” Tommy said over their headsets, knowing where TK’s mind was at.

“I know. I know.” TK said, briefly checking his phone but seeing no text or any sign of life from his husband.

“And you know what cops are like, they call us out when they stub their toe.” Nancy offered.

“That’s protocol.” TK said absent mindedly. It was almost four months since Gabriel had gotten shot, and even though he was recovering well and back at work on desk duty, Carlos hadn’t given up on trying to find the shooter.

“Dispatch do you have a unit number of the officer needing assistance?” Nancy asked over the radio in an attempt to calm TK’s nerves.

“363H20. There is another officer on scene but the call came from 363H20.”

“That’s Carlos’ badge number.”

“Are you sure?”

“Nance, I could recite that number in my sleep. I’m sure.” TK deadpanned while putting on gloves. “I just hope he hasn’t done anything stupid. He promised me he would lay off his one man investigation into Gabriel’s shooting.”

“How is Gabriel?” Tommy asked, trying to get TK to focus on something other than his injured husband. “I’ve been meaning to check in.”

“You know how he didn’t want to wear the sling the doctors had given him at our wedding? Because he didn’t want a reminder of the shooting in our wedding pictures? And only did it when Andrea made him? Well that’s about as much of his doctor’s advice he’s taken. He’s alright but stubborn as ever.” TK sighed. “Carlos really is his father’s son.”

They pulled up to the location a few minutes later and saw Carlos sitting on the curb next to his cruiser with a tea towel pressed to the side of his head, and Lexi Mitchell standing beside him.

TK jumped out of the ambulance, torn between wanting to strangle his husband for getting himself in trouble again, and wrapping him up in a hug and not letting him out of his sight for the next few months.

He grabbed his gear and walked over to where Carlos was sitting.

Carlos who was staring at his shoes instead of looking up.

“Hey Lexi.” TK greeted her before kneeling down and putting a hand under Carlos’ chin so he’d look him in the eye. “I thought I was the danger magnet in this marriage?”

“Don’t start.” Carlos rolled his eyes and groaned. “Things just got a little out of hand.”

“Yeah I can see that.” TK said and tightened his grip on Carlos’ face when he tried to look away. “What the hell happened, Carlos?”

“No pet names? Ouch. You’re really in the dog house now, dude.” Nancy commented.

TK briefly glared at her before turning his attention back to his husband. He turned his head to the side.

“Move the towel so I can take a look.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Move the towel.” He ordered, sounding way more angry and annoyed than he actually felt, but he figured maybe making Carlos think he’d really pissed him off would make him stop his investigation and let the team assigned to it do their jobs.

“Your bedside manner needs work, paramedic Strand.”

“It’s Reyes-Strand actually. You see I got married four months ago to this amazing man, he’s my soulmate, he completes me, but he’s being a world class idiot lately.”

“Why don’t we leave you two to it.” Tommy suggested. “Officer, are you hurt?” she asked Lexi.

“No ma’am. But he is.” She pointed her thumb at the backseat of the cruiser. “I put him in there for safekeeping. He got a little too close to the ground. With my help.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Not anymore. And he’d be really stupid to add assaulting a paramedic to the list of offences we can book him for.”

“Right, well, let’s go take a look. Way over there.” Nancy said and turned to TK. “Try not to kill him. Too many witnesses here.”

“I’ll do my best.” TK replied while cleaning the cuts and scrapes on Carlos’ face. “But I’m not making any promises.” He grabbed an antiseptic wipe from his kit to clean the wound he’d had the towel pressed against. “This is going to sting a little.” He murmured.

Carlos winced when the wipe touched his wound and tried to move his head away as a reflex but TK kept him in place.

“Don’t do that you big baby. I’ve got you. I’ll find something that doesn’t sting so much. And then we’re going to take you to hospital because you need stitches.”

“I don’t need stitches. I’ve got work to do. Can’t you just put a bandage on it?”

“Do you want an infection? Do you want to be bleeding through that bandage all day?”

“No, but…”

“Carlos.” TK said sternly but then softened a little when he saw the concerned look on his husband’s face. “Baby do you trust me?”

“What? Of course I do.”

“Do you trust me to know what I’m talking about? That I know how to do my job?”

“Of course.”

“Then trust me when I say you need stitches. And before you say anything, yes I can do it, but you want a plastic surgeon for this because the wound is on your face. I can patch you up but you’ll end up with a scar.”

Carlos mumbled something that sounded like “I don’t care.” And TK barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him.

He grabbed some gauze and tape from his kit and covered up the wound on Carlos’ face.

“That should do for now.” He moved to sit next to Carlos and grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“The guy came out of nowhere.” Carlos started after a minute. “He took a swing at me and I hit the wall and then the ground. I think his ring cut my face.”

“Hmm… it’s not like you to let the bad guys get a jump on you…”

“Yeah. I guess I’m having an off day.”

“Just one day? Baby you’ve been distracted for weeks, you’re running yourself into the ground with your investigation. You’re awake half the night obsessing over it.” TK said and held up a hand when Carlos tried to argue with him. “We share a bed, remember? I know you’re not sleeping. I can feel you tossing and turning.”

Carlos sighed.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere.  I had a solid lead that brought me here.”

“Then why didn’t you tell detective Washington and her team?”

“I did! But they didn’t do anything!” Carlos argued. “I told them they had to move now but they just thanked me for my help and sent me on my way.”

“Probably because they had to check out the info. You taught me that police work involves a lot of checking and double checking and gathering as much information you possibly can before making a move.”

“I know… but I feel like I’m getting close to figuring it out.”

“So you grabbed Lexi and went to investigate on your own?”

“No… she just… kind of insisted to come along and didn’t take no for an answer.”

“Thank god for Lexi Mitchell.” TK muttered.

“I know it was stupid to go alone, ok? I know. But I… I can’t just... drop it. It’s my dad who got shot and nearly died.”

“I know babe, but if you keep going like this, he won’t be the only one coming close to dying.”

“Why? Because you’ll kill me if I don’t drop it?”

“No, you’ll be beating me to it.” TK deadpanned. “I don’t want to become a widower before we even get to our one year wedding anniversary. I love you and I hate seeing you like this. You need to start taking better care of yourself, baby. Promise me you will. ”

“I promise.” Carlos mumbled after a minute. “But I can’t just walk away from it and pretend it never happened.”

“I’m not asking you to. But I need you to sleep for more than 10 minutes a week and not spend every minute of every day obsessing over your dad’s case. You know they’ve got the best people working on it, so you can take a step back. Relax. Do something fun. Forget about it all for a couple of hours. Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll try…” Carlos promised.

“Why don’t we order pizza tonight and watch that show Paul was talking about last week?” TK suggested. “And we can just relax and turn off our phones for a couple of hours… and who knows what else we could do.” He winked, making Carlos laugh.

“I don’t think that’s really considered relaxing, babe.”

“Maybe not, but it’ll be fun.”

[mariatesstruther]

more tlou hunger games au picking up after this post

(essentially we’re at catching fire, joel and ellie are going into the quarter quell together as district mates. ellie was the winner of the 74th games and joel was the only winner of district 12 before her. his daughter was killed in the games also. ellie won her games with sam, who is kind of a rue/peeta combo in that he’s from district 11 and him and ellie won together)

im mostly skipping straight to the reaping/games for now but some details for context:

ellie has spent the six months since her win recovering and healing up at joel’s, growing closer to him and becoming basically besties with his brother tommy

ellie is still the girl on fire, as her and sam’s innocence and dedication towards one another has captured the hearts of everyone in panem. before their victory tour, president (david) snow has issued threats that she keep in line, otherwise he’ll kill joel and sam. she does not tell joel this, but he knows suspects

there are riots going on in districts and the secret rebellion is actively underway

at the end of ellie and sam’s victory tour, during the president’s mansion party, ellie meets tess—who is apparently joel’s ex which BLOWS her mf mind. she was a gamemaker last year and is now the head gamemaker (after snow killed the one that failed to kill her last year). she is scary-level beautiful and commandingly intimidtaing, but she is also nice enough to compliment ellie’s aim. apparently, tess was in the room last year when ellie had thrown a dagger straight at the gamemakers during her private training

by the time ellie gets back home to 12 and sam gets back to 11, ellie is just tired and ready for her and joel to hang out and be victors at home

boom quarter quell

joel gets called as the only male victor of their district, but he tells ellie after that he would’ve volunteered regardless to protect her. he assures her that, even as confident and as good as she is, these games are about to be a bloodbath

ellie tries to play it off, but she’s extremely scared and worried for joel because she knows he won his games like, a million (20) years ago, but now he’s fucking old. he’s half-deaf and has a permanent limp, barely noticeable to most people but clear as fucking doomsday to her. she is young and fast and thinks she is more dangerous (“did you fucking forget that im the first and only tribute ever to score an 11, joel???? huh???? did you forget that in ur old man age?? what score did you get, a 6?” “ellie. i scored a 10.” “well. how was i supposed to know that. they don’t teach us about history that far back in school”)

ellie and joel are also assigned new stylist, maria, for the quarter quell. she is from the capital, so joel and ellie immediately have their guards up around her—but maria is confident and snarky in way that reminds joel of tess, and unyieldingly no-bullshit in a way that reminds ellie of joel—plus, she has a ton of cool piercings and multicolored locs that ellie is obsessed with, so. they tentatively warm up to her

maria also tells joel that she’s a friend of tess, referencing details about her (and himself) that she would only know if she were someone tess could trust—and he figures that if tess could trust her, so could he

ellie quickly grows grateful for joel being there (though it does take her a while to admit it), because when she and joel arrive at training they witness the other victor’s skills. the victors are deadly and cocky and look at her like she’s food—two different people have inhumanly sharpened teeth. she is the youngest there and, admittedly, very freaked out

(sam wouldve been the youngest there this year, but another tribute from his district, jesse, had vehemently volunteered in place of him. jesse was unable to volunteer and save sam from fighting the year prior because he was still recovering from his own game-inflicted chronic injuries. luckily, he’s healed enough by now to keep sam from having to go through the quarter quell)

so jesse comes into the games with another tribute from their district, dina. joel isnt at all interested in making allies or friends, but ellie can’t help but be a goddamn social butterfly, even among a bunch of assholes, kill-happy freaks, and showboaters.

she makes friends with dina and jesse quickly and vehemently. despite how grumpy it makes joel to be surrounded by no one but teenagers all three days of training, he can’t deny they’re good to have around

dina is stealthy and intelligent. joel already knows she’s a good kid because she had volunteered for her own games to save her little sister, who was called as a tribute at only 12 years old. her knowledge of different plants and wildlife is insane, like she’d spent all 15 years of her life surviving in the wilderness. she had won her games by simply hiding in shelters, defending them with traps, and resourcefully leading mutts straight to the locations of other tributes. she hadn’t needed to kill anyone at all, not directly. still she has great aim and, with ellie’s teaching, gets pretty good with a bow and arrow

jesse is less quick and less stealthy than dina and ellie, but he is incredibly strong. he had managed to win his own games with a gladius sword; it was a particularly brutal and bloody games his year, with an arena theme based on the roman colosseum. despite the brutality of his fighting style and weapon if choice, jesse is also one of the kindest kids joel has ever spoken to. they’d actually met a few times at mandatory capital events, and every single time, jesse shook his hand too quickly and called him “sir” far too much for casual conversation

anyway, the four of them basically team up alongside two older victors, bill and frank. joel and bill fucking hate each other, always have (definitely because they’re exactly alike but frank won’t say that with bill around). frank and joel have been friends for a long, long time—basically since he was with tess—and were good enough friends that he can’t deny there’s still some trust there

plus frank absolutely hits it off with ellie during training, teaching her how to use paint and natural materials for exceptional camouflage (which was how he won his games. he had been the first victor to win the games with no kills at all, direct or otherwise, before dina)

and even though bill was an asshole, he was an undeniable tactical genius of an asshole. he had taken out basically everyone in his games with stoic and refined skill. his were the quickest games that had ever occurred, and still to this day remain so. joel has no fucking idea how him and frank got together, but he really doesn’t care. he knows bill is genuine in his loyalty to frank, and frank seems genuine in his fondness of ellie, so joel tentatively accepts the both of them as allies

the private trainings proceed and all of them get pretty impresive scores, even for victors. thus is born “the goddamn motherfucking dream team” (ellie picked the name. dina and jesse love it)

at the interviews before the games, all of the victors do the tactical appeal-to-the-masses-and-try-to-stop-the-games thing. everyone expects joel to be an asshole or maybe mention sarah, but he actually gives a very sincere address to ellie about how she’s become a second daughter to him and given him a new reason to fight to survive: to make sure she lived. his clear love and dedication to protecting her (which is both an intentional warning to the rest of the victors, and an unintentionally-heartfealt appeal to the masses of panem) leaves everybody near tears

for her interview, ellie curses out president david goddamnmotherfucking snow live on camera

commence the games

lmfao. well, definitely more coming later because i LOVED thinking about all of this ides and it basically writes itself

for @clickergossip, @banchywanch (so glad i still got jesse & dina volunteering in there, even though it isn’t quite the same as your briliant idea <3), @bumblepony, @liveandletcry23, @hypnotisedfireflies, @mrsquill and @hinewai