#disagreement is welcome and encouraged

[tommycorriander]

"metroidbrainia" is stupid because "metroidvania" refers to games taking elements from both castlevania and super metroid; there are no "castlebrainia" games. Calling games "knowledge based" is inherently backwards because every game requires some amount of knowledge to use and is in general clunky phrasing. I propose we instead call these games "deduction games". The criteria for the games people want to call "metroidbrainias/knowledge based" comes down to some level of gameplay that can only be completed once due to the nature of puzzle solving within, but with puzzles that are more based in reasoning skills than with spacial play. A line connection puzzle would not be a deduction game, but Outer Wilds would be. This also allows for the "deduction puzzle game" which combines elements of a traditional puzzle game with deduction elements, where the input of the puzzles is spacial but understanding where to input or how the pieces mesh together is drawn from deductions about the environment around you.

[jaggedjot]

There is a deep rooted bitterness underneath Claudia’s immediately infamous “two blood fat cocks slapping hands” line. After having spent more than a cumulative decade of her life searching for another vampire and being met with nothing but silence or pain, Claudia was welcomed by more than a dozen in one night, only to then be told by Louis that she should not see them again. It must reignite the resentment Claudia felt towards Louis’ open pessimism and misery while they travelled through Eastern Europe. The purposeful crudeness of the line, a sudden sour note after her teasing Louis’ fear “of your own lust”, suggests her frustration at being unable to fulfil her sexual desires. The disagreement the pair have in this scene about the significance of Lestat’s portrait reflects the larger rift in their relationship over Louis’ unwillingness to move past Lestat (“He's a hundred-and-something-year-old painting in a frame.” “They got a fսcking shrine to him!”). Claudia’s life was forcibly shaped time and time again to better serve Louis and Lestat’s love for each other; turned into a vampire so that they could repair their relationship, intimidated and hurt when she encouraged Louis to leave Lestat, made prisoner by Lestat ostensibly for Louis’ welfare, and now the memory of that relationship threatens her newfound kinship. It is galling enough that her long awaited introduction to a vampire community comes as an afterthought tacked onto Louis’ hand delivered invitation (“Come. And bring the petite beauty with you.”, “Monsieur de Pointe du Lac. Our finest seats.”), but the realisation that even that was determined by another man’s attraction to Louis has to be beyond infuriating. 

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: WILL YOU BE MY LIFELONG PARTNER?!! *proposing to Idia*

Idia: Wh-Wh-What?!

Ortho: *reading their platonic marriage proposal*

Platonic Partnership Proposal and Agreement

Parties:

This Platonic Partnership Agreement ("Agreement") is entered into on [Date] between [Your Name], referred to as the "Partner," and Idia Shroud referred to as the "Recipient."

Perks of Partnership:

The Partner hereby offers the following perks to the Recipient as part of this Platonic Partnership:

1. Merchandise Bonanza: The Partner agrees to regularly provide the Recipient with merchandise aligned with their interests and passions.

2. Gacha Gathering: The Partner commits to diligently gathering resources for the Recipient's gacha endeavors, ensuring a victorious gaming experience.

3. Cosplay Collaboration: The Partner and Recipient shall jointly participate in cosplay, embodying their favorite characters and fostering shared memories.

4. Cat Cafe Comfort: The Partner welcomes the Recipient to their cat cafe, a serene sanctuary for moments of togetherness.

5. Captivating Cat Companions: The Recipient will have the opportunity to interact with the Partner's ten unique cats, each contributing their individual personalities to our partnership.

6. Unwavering Support: The Partner pledges steadfast encouragement, standing by the Recipient's side through every triumph and challenge.

7. Harmonious Disagreements: The parties agree that disagreements, though rare as celestial phenomena, shall be resolved amicably, with at most one occurrence annually.

8. Flexible Comfort: The Partner shall gladly relinquish the mattress for the floor whenever the Recipient desires a change of sleeping arrangements.

9. Tender Tresses: The Partner will bestow the honor of hair brushing upon the Recipient, a gesture of care and connection.

10. Regal Skincare: The Recipient will receive top-tier skincare treatments, unveiling a resplendent glow under the Partner's care.

Terms and Conditions:

This Agreement is subject to the following terms and conditions:

1. The Recipient accepts the perks and responsibilities outlined above, entering this partnership willingly and enthusiastically.

2. Both parties shall treat each other with kindness, respect, and consideration, nurturing the bonds of friendship.

3. The Agreement may be terminated by either party with written notice, ensuring a graceful conclusion to the partnership.

Acceptance:

By signing below, both parties acknowledge their understanding and acceptance of the terms and perks outlined in this Platonic Partnership Agreement.

Partner: [Your Signature] Date: [Date]

Recipient: [Recipient's Signature] Date: [Date]

Ortho: ...

Ortho: *signs it for Idia*

Idia: Ortho! Wait!

Ortho: I'll send Mom a copy.

Idia: Nooooo!

[scalingsvt8thusiast]

Skin-Deep Chapter 6

summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.

a/n: welcome to part 2 :D I hope you all have been enjoying the fic so far. much love <3

The alarm blaring from your phone hauled you out of your peaceful slumber. You scrambled blearily to your phone, not wanting to wake the other person in your bed. After shutting off the alarm, you sat up, trying to motivate yourself to leave the bed and prepare yourself for the day. 

You felt Seungcheol’s arms wrap around your waist, he nuzzled his face into your shoulder. 

“Where do you think you’re going misus’?” 

You swore you could never get tired of this. Months into your relationship and Seungcheol’s deep, raspy morning voice still had the power to reawakened the butterflies that had made a home in your stomach. 

“Cheol, we need to get ready for class.” You said, trying to remove his arms from around you. 

He groaned but didn’t move at all, instead he tightened his grip around your waist, unwilling to let you leave the bed. He lifted his head to rest his chin on your shoulder, you craned your neck to admire his sleepy face. His eyes were half lidded and swollen, a sign of a good night’s sleep.

You brought a hand up to caress his cheek. He tilted his face in the direction of your hand. 

You giggled, “Big baby.”

“I’m your big baby.”

Ever since you and Seungcheol made it official, your morning routine consisted of you coaxing him to let him let you get out of bed before joining you in the shower. That was followed by you dancing around in the kitchen to your morning playlist and him watching fondly whilst you two took turns preparing coffee and breakfast. Some days, when the two of you had later classes, Seungcheol would drive you to a local cafe where you’d sit in his embrace as you sipped on your latte and him his iced americano, exchanging your schedules for the day. After which you would pile into his car, your favourite being his G-Wagon, and he would place a hand on your thigh closest to him and drive to uni. 

Life in uni had gotten much better, girls stopped harassing you, men stopped approaching you for sex (after your big, scary boyfriend threatened a few of them) and all the rumours about you had mostly stopped.

It was pure bliss for you and Seungcheol. Nothing in the world could make the both of you happier than being in each other’s presence.

Today, you were scheduled to study with Jeonghan and Joshua in the library after class. 

Instead of studying however, Jeonghan sat opposite you and Joshua, thinking about how he should bring up the topic of you and Seungcheol. Throughout the many group hangouts, Jeonghan would watch you and Seungcheol. He watched the way Seungcheol would glue himself to your side, always finding someway to be in contact with you. He watched the way Seungcheol would kiss you on the forehead and whisper in your ear if he needed to leave you for a moment. He watched the way Seungcheol looked at you as if you were the only person in his life.

It was sickening really, that ridiculous amount of PDA. 

But if the two of you were happy, then Jeonghan was happy too. 

Jeonghan leaned over to get your attention.

“PSSST.”

“Jesus, I know you think you’re being quiet Han, but you aren’t.” You say, taking off your earphones. “I could be deaf and still hear you.” 

“You guys are so cute,” He grinned, ignoring your comment. “You and Cheol.”

You blushed and looked down, too embarrassed to reply. Jeonghan apparently took your reaction as disagreement.

“It’s true, I’ve never seen Cheol so happy!” 

Jeonghan and Seungcheol were childhood friends. They had met in kindergarten where their parents would regularly arrange playdates, trying to encouraged their friendship as their families were in business together. While Seungcheol disagrees, Jeonghan often thanked the gods that his family was so nosy, if not he wouldn’t have found his life-long best friend. 

The duo became a trio when they met Joshua in boarding school during their teenage years. Joshua’s parents had been so worried that he wouldn’t make any friends, they called up Jeonghan’s parents and implored them to help their son. Luckily Jeonghan and Joshua hit it off immediately, Jeonghan then introduced Joshua to Seungcheol. The three of them became inseparable ever since. 

Jeonghan and Joshua had been through their fair share of Seungcheol��s ups and downs. They had seen Seungcheol go through his lowest periods when dealing with stress from his family. There was a time when Seungcheol would spend every waking moment at a club or jet-setting to another part of the world to party, trying to shake his parents off. The both of them were with him every step of the way, worried that he’d try something stupid or drink himself to death. When Seungcheol finally came down from his high, he spent months locked in his penthouse without anything to eat or drink. Jeonghan and Joshua would take turns sending food to him while trying to convince him to come out of hiding. It took a lot to finally get him out of his slump, so the fact that Seungcheol looked so happy was astounding. 

“Cheol looks at you like you shit rainbows.” Joshua deadpanned. "Have you met his parents yet?”

Jeonghan looked at him like he had grown another head.

“What? It’s a valid question!” 

“No, I haven’t.” You said, not wanting the both of them to start bickering. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too early for that?

You paused, they stared at you.

“Girl, with the way you two were acting, I would think you two were married.” Joshua deadpanned.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t meet his parents soon,” Jeonghan said to Joshua, “You know how they are.”

Joshua mouth open slightly, before nodding in understanding. 

You laughed nervously, “What do you mean?”

“Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Joshua said, quick to brush it off. He hurriedly turned his attention back to his laptop.

“Let’s go back to studying!” Jeonghan said, a little too enthusiastically, “Now where was I…”

You stared at the both of them in disbelief.

“No, hey! You can’t just say stuff like that and not follow up!” You whisper-shouted. 

Jeonghan whacked Joshua on the arm, “This is your fault.”

“How is it my fault? It was a valid question!” Joshua whacked Jeonghan back on the arm.

Great, now you had two bickering children on your hands. 

“Guys.” You said sternly. 

Jeonghan sighed, “Look, you didn’t hear this from me-“

“Or me!” Joshua added.

“Seungcheol’s parents are rather,” He paused, looking for the right word. “Overbearing.”

“In a lovely way thought!” Joshua quipped. 

“We love Auntie and Uncle Choi!” Jeonghan remarked nervously, before the both of them hurriedly returned to their laptops. 

“Guys,” You grit your teeth. “Say more words.”

The two boys exchanged looks, realising they had dug themselves a grave both with you and Seungcheol. 

“I’m sure you know, Seungcheol is an only child,” Jeonghan let out a breath as he continued, “His parents want him to take over the company one day.”

“They have a very peculiar habit of trying to control every aspect of his life.” Joshua said, waving his hands in the air dismissively. “But don’t worry about it, I’m sure you two will be fine.”

They both expected you to panic, but you just looked at the both of them and rolled your eyes. 

“Really, that was the big secret? Gosh you guys were talking like they murdered people for a living.” You said, looking back down to your notes. 

You looked back up after a second to see the both of them staring at you with wide eyes. 

“Oh come on guys, it’s classic drama style plot,” You said, “His parents want him to take over the company and they don’t want him to be distracted so they won’t let him date anybody.” 

“I- Well, yea, that’s basically the gist of it.” Jeonghan hummed, surprised that you knew.

“What drama has that plot?” Joshua said, “Sounds like horrible writing.”

You stood on the steps of the library, waiting for Seungcheol to pick you up. Jeonghan and Joshua had already left, they offered to send you over to Seungcheol’s place but you insisted that it was fine since Seungcheol was in class anyway. 

You spotted Seungcheol’s black G-wagon approaching. Skipping over to the passenger seat, you opened the door to be greeted by your boyfriends charming smile.

“Hey princess,” He greeted, watching you climb into the car, “Enjoy your studying time with Han and Josh?”

“Yessir,” You leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek. His cheeks turning pink. Even after months of dating, your kisses still had the ability to make him blush.

The night was spent with the two of you eating takeout food and exchanging stories about your day, followed by Seungcheol pulling you into a heated make out session on the couch. 

You could never get tired of his lips and the way his tongue moved with yours. You loved the feeling of his hands on your hips while you sat on his lap, facing him. Your arms locked around his neck bringing him closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roamed your sides making you feel like jelly. This was heaven. 

A loud ring came from Seungcheol’s phone, bringing the two of you back down to earth. 

You pulled away from his embrace, moving to sit next to him on the sofa. He groaned and pressed the back of his head against the sofa with a pained expression. His phone still ringing away on the coffee table. 

You rubbed his arm, “You should take that.”

“Someone better be dead or dying.” He muttered, annoyed that his time with you was interrupted by god knows who. 

“I’ll take a shower first, kay?” You say, giving his arm a squeeze, “Come join me when you’re done.”

He watched as you disappeared up the stairs, heading for your shared bedroom. Once you were out of sight, he turned his attention to his phone. 

His expression fell when he saw the caller ID. 

a/n2: Thanks for reading!!! Again, I'm no expert in writing so if you have any comments or ideas on how I can improved, my dms/ask/whatever are always open :)

[etrsilk]

hii! welcome to Tumblr <33 can I ask you for a relational and random headcanons on Killua??

₊✩‧₊˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐘𝐂𝐊 ⇝ 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 .ᐟ

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: 𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘱!𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘢

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 — 𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙬 (𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥)

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙬

↬ Killua is 20 here!!

➘ At the beginning of your relationship, Killua was very shy about physical contact. He would blush at the slightest touch and found it hard to show affection or even initiate hugs, kisses, or anything else, especially in public. However, after just a few months, this was no longer the case. The roles reversed, and it was now him who made you blush with his teasing, him who initiated physical contact, and flirted with you, even when you were together in public. This change came about because, in the beginning, you were very tactile and affectionate, almost infecting him with your touch.

➘ You both love taking nighttime walks. It was during one of these walks that Killua realized his feelings for you. The most intense moments of your relationship have happened during these nighttime strolls; when you confessed your feelings, shared your first kiss, and had your deepest conversations. It’s during these walks that you often reconcile after a disagreement.

➘ You are that long-term couple that everyone envies because you seem so perfect and romantic. Everyone knows you will end up together. Honestly, it's almost a given.

➘ Killua has multiple love languages: physical touch, acts of service, and quality time. The ones he is most receptive to, and that touch him the most, are definitely physical touch and words of affirmation.

➘ Gon has been an immense help to Killua in your relationship. Whether it's during arguments or planning dates, Gon is always there to support him. In fact, Gon was the one who encouraged Killua to confess his feelings for you. He often gives advice (even if it's not always the best) and it's not uncommon for Gon to secretly plan things for you with Alluka's help.

➘ Sex has played an important role in your relationship. If you didn't reconcile after a disagreement during one of your nighttime walks, you would often make up in a more intimate way.

➘ Killua wants a future with you; he wants you to be his wife and the mother of his children. He knows that to achieve this, you will eventually have to meet his family, a prospect he dreads.

➘ Discussions about his childhood and family didn’t happen all at once. You don't fully know everything his family made him do, but occasionally, in random moments, he will open up and share bits and pieces.

➘ For some reason, it excites him to see you working. Sometimes, while you're busy at your desk, he'll come over to kiss you, cuddle you, and tease you.

—English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (18/22)

Chapter summary: You navigate your way through your first couple and individual therapy session; Wanda convinces Yelena to see you one last time

Chapter word count: 6.6k | Tags: Therapy, Healing, Comfort | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Welcome to the beginning of the end. P.S. I removed the warning section because there won't be too much angst for the rest of the story. Question is, will therapy be enough to repair R and her relationship with Wanda?

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next part: Nineteen

--

Eighteen

Describing the situation as complex would barely scratch the surface.

Calliope has navigated her way through a myriad of couples' issues, from infidelity to lack of intimacy, to financial disagreements. Most couples she deals with fall into two categories: married and unmarried. Seldom does she come across a pair seeking couples therapy post-divorce, as most married individuals approach her with the intention of averting such an outcome.

Yet, you and Wanda defy convention.

Before the session began, Calliope handed you some forms to complete. The first one was pretty straightforward, requesting basic details like your name, birthday, address, and contact number. The second one was more challenging. It featured an array of questions, from your hobbies and life aspirations to your deepest fears. You spent nearly an hour wrestling with your responses while Wanda had her individual session in another room with Calliope.

Once Wanda emerged from her session, the evidence of her tears was plain to see on her cheeks. Swiftly, she attempted to erase the telltale tracks as you watched, and you instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulder, asking her if she was okay. Wanda assured you that she was, admitting that sessions like these sometimes stirred up unwanted emotions.

Calliope inquired if Wanda felt up to proceeding with the combined session, and Wanda nodded affirmatively, eager to start your journey together. Seeing Wanda's tear-streaked face made you anxious, but you mustered the courage to nod your agreement, informing Calliope that you were willing to give it a shot. 

The therapist offered a soft smile, asking both of you to wait for ten minutes while she briefly reviewed the answers on the forms you’ve completed.

And that leads to the present moment, with you and Wanda perched at opposite ends of the sofa, while Calliope observes from a neutral point of view.

Calliope begins with a gentle inquiry, “From what I gather, and from what Wanda has told me in our previous sessions, it appears that trust is the core issue bringing both of you here today, correct?”

Wanda affirms with a nod, but when she looks your way, she finds your gaze fixed intently on Calliope. You lift your hand,  prompting a gentle reminder from Calliope.

“There's no need to raise your hand here, Y/N. Feel free to voice your thoughts whenever you wish.” she says.

“Alright,” you say, and then you let your question fly. “How can we ensure this session remains unbiased?” It's a good point, but Wanda can't help but notice your deeper hesitance.

“Can you elaborate, Y/N?”

“You've been acquainted with Wanda for some time now,” you explain, “You've listened to her perspective on...on the issues we've had. How can I be confident that you'll be an impartial mediator in all this?”

“I see where you're coming from,” Calliope responds. “In all of Wanda's sessions, I've never taken sides with her or anyone else involved in her life. You can confirm this with her privately later if you wish. As a professional, I encourage you to question my credentials if at any point you feel your views are not being acknowledged or respected during these sessions.”

You look to Wanda to confirm Calliope’s claims and she offers you a small, reassuring smile. 

“Fair enough,” you manage to say, giving Calliope a nod to proceed. The corner of her mouth lifts subtly, acknowledging your permission.

“Before we start, let me ask,” Calliope says, her eyes flicking between you and Wanda, “Where are you both exactly at? Have you officially entered into a relationship?”

You feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks, while Wanda shifts uncomfortably beside you. You’re taken aback by the directness of the question and glance at Wanda, hoping she might take the lead in answering.

Wanda clears her throat. “We've been... intimate,” she says, hesitating for a moment. “Uh, we… haven't put a label on whatever this is.”

“But we’re together,” you chime in, meeting Calliope’s gaze while sensing Wanda’s intense eyes on you. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a hint of a smile on Wanda’s face.

Calliope simply nods. “And living arrangements?”

You and Wanda exchange another look. “Well, we both still have our own apartments,” you say. “But we've been spending nights together, alternating between our places.”

Calliope purses her lips and nods again. She doesn’t comment on any of your answers and it sort of leaves you a little off-balance, wondering what she’s thinking.

“Alright,” Calliope claps her hands together and gets straight to the burning topic. “Going back to why we’re all here: trust. In relationships, trust forms the foundation. When it's damaged, it can feel like the ground beneath you has shifted. But with open, honest conversation and consistent efforts, it can be repaired.”

She looks between you and Wanda. “Let's explore this. How do you both perceive the trust issues in your relationship? There are no right or wrong answers here, just your feelings and experiences.”

Wanda looks at you nervously. She knows you’re the one who’s been grappling with the concept, and although it was poised for the both of you, it’s obviously a question for you.

“So, it's my problem, isn't it?” you start off, managing a dry chuckle. “Guess there's no sugarcoating that.”

You glance over at Wanda before continuing. “When Wanda...when she was unfaithful, suddenly, I was doubting everything—our past, our present, and especially our future.”

Calliope interjects gently, “Is that why you went ahead with the divorce proceedings immediately?”

Your gaze snaps to Calliope, taken aback by her knowledge about the swift divorce proceedings, before you quickly remember that Wanda must have divulged this information earlier.

“I was blinded by rage and hurt, and it was the only thing that would put me together at that time. I… I wanted to retaliate. If that makes sense?” you say. Wanda remains silent, her eyes downcast as your words fill the room. 

Calliope observes this and then turns her attention to Wanda. “And how did you react, Wanda, when the divorce proceedings were initiated?” she prompts.

Wanda takes a deep breath, her fingers nervously fiddling with a thread on her sleeve. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she finally responds. “I...I felt lost," she admits, her voice shaky. "I knew I had hurt Y/N terribly, but the reality of divorce...it hit me hard.”

“And so hard that you promptly agreed to it, didn't you?” you retort with a touch of sarcasm that you’re unable to hide. Before this session, you had reached a truce of sorts with Wanda, and your feelings for her had found a serene lull. But dredging up the past in this setting had reignited unpleasant feelings, making it difficult for you to keep the lingering bitterness at bay when it comes to her cheating.

“I tried to reach out to you, begged for you to talk to me. But you had already left, we didn't get a chance to fully discuss everything. You wouldn't even respond to me unless it was about the divorce,” Wanda explains, her voice filled with regret. “I didn't want to make it even tougher for you when it seemed like all you wanted was to get away from me. You only seemed to relax around me a little when I agreed to the divorce.”

You bite your lower lip as you relive those tumultuous weeks. Those were the days when Wanda consistently tried to reach out, and you responded only when you were having a 'good' day. 

A 'good' day was when you managed to get out of your room, shower, and eat an entire cup of oatmeal. The 'bad' days were characterized by either weeping yourself to sleep or drinking so heavily that you blacked out before dinner time.

Up to this day, you have no idea how you survived that. 

“Is that true, Y/N?” Calliope asks.

You nod, acknowledging the truth of it. You were a hard one to handle, and you made sure to drive Wanda to give you what you desired back then.

An uncomfortable silence follows your wordless answer, stretching on until Wanda musters the courage to break it.

“And, I mean, I thought we were... okay. Not perfect, but okay enough that it wasn't as painful, that we weren't crying every single day, that we weren't hurting all the time. But it feels like we're still stuck. I still love you, you still love me, and... we're still in pain,” Wanda's words tumble out, caught in a choke.

Your heart clenches at her words, and you covertly look at Wanda from your peripheral vision. Not for the first time, you wonder if this is really a good idea. If maybe, digging into this would just mean digging both of your own graves in the end.

Calliope remains quiet and gives you both a moment before speaking again. 

“What if we start from there? From the love that still remains?” she suggests gently. “Let's try to rebuild the trust from that foundation. Would that be agreeable to both of you?”

Your gaze shifts towards Wanda and you swallow, clearing the tightness in your throat.

“Like I said before,” you tell Wanda. “I can't guarantee that I won't lash out, or that I'll always be level-headed–”

“I understand, Y/N–”

“–And with that said, I want you to be yourself, Wanda. I don't want you to suppress anything because of me—out of some obligation to spare my feelings.” you say. 

Wanda averts her gaze to the floor, understanding the point you're trying to make. Riddled with guilt, she's been prioritizing your feelings above all else.

“I promise I’ll be honest with my feelings.” Wanda promises. You smile in response and then turn to Calliope.

“Alright, I'm willing to try," you murmur, your voice slightly raspy.

Calliope gives you both an encouraging look, “I recommend we commit to an initial 8 sessions and we’ll begin from next week. I'll provide you with some materials and exercises that might help you to communicate your feelings more effectively in these sessions and with each other. Remember, this is a journey and it's perfectly fine to take small steps. And sometimes we may even have to take a couple of steps back. Are you okay with that?”

You sigh in relief at the mention that the real sessions won’t be happening until next week. You wanted to prepare and internalize things so that you can at least have some control over your emotions. 

“Btw, Y/N, are you open to talk for a couple of minutes? I just want to go over some of your answers in the form.”

“Sure.”

Wanda gives you an apologetic look. “I have to return to the cafe. Will you be okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll meet you, uhm–I’ll call later, okay?”

With a swift movement, Wanda leans in to give you a peck on the cheek, which you reciprocate somewhat awkwardly. She then bids Calliope goodbye and departs from the room.

Once Wanda leaves, there's a moment of silence as Calliope collects her thoughts. You gulp nervously, attempting to recall what you’ve written in those forms, but surprisingly, your mind draws a blank.

“Y/N, I appreciate your honesty in today's session,” she begins, her voice gentle yet firm. “Now, I just want to go over some of your responses in the questionnaire. There were a few areas where you mentioned feeling constant anxiety and bouts of anger. Do you think this is connected to the issues with Wanda, or has it been something you've been dealing with for longer?”

You hesitate for a moment, thinking back on the past few months. “I'm not sure,” you confess. “Ever since the incident, I guess I've just been in a state of constant confusion and anger. I’m not entirely sure how to describe it.”

“I see, it can be challenging to sort through your thoughts and emotions to identify the precise triggers for these feelings, especially considering you've been grappling with them for a while now. That's perfectly fine. Let's start with something more straightforward. How are you feeling right now?”

“I feel...conflicted,” you say slowly, the words spilling out with a weight you can't ignore. “Before coming here, I thought I was 100% ready to tackle everything, because I'm hopeful for what this therapy can bring us, but the thought of reliving Wanda's betrayal...it scares me. I don't want to harbor resentment, but I can't deny that it's still there, lying dormant. I still can't understand how she could do that to us.”

“Understand or accept?”

You shoot Calliope a puzzled look. That's a new perspective for you. The idea that maybe trying to understand is a lost cause, and the real battle is with accepting it.

“I… I don’t know,” you say. 

“That’s okay, we can tackle it some other time. Anything else?”

Your fingers drum against your knee, a nervous tick you've developed recently. “And then there's Yelena...I feel guilty about my own actions towards her. I know I betrayed her, and that only adds to the guilt of being with Wanda,... of choosing her.”

Your gaze shifts to Calliope as you continue, “Then there's this lingering thought of...timing. Are we rushing into this, trying to mend things so soon? I just... I don’t know.”

Taking in your words with a thoughtful expression, Calliope gently asks, “Given all these doubts and uncertainties you've just mentioned, Y/N, could you tell me why you agreed to attend these couple's counseling sessions with Wanda?”

You smile a little at the question. This is something you can easily answer.

“I’ve spent a year wrestling with my feelings for her, only to cause pain to someone else in the process because I was unable to face the reality that I’m still in love with Wanda. I believe I always will be,” you admit, rubbing at your temples. “I know she hurt me and what she did was terrible. I was angry and... and I still am, to a certain extent. But, underneath all that, I still care about her. I want us to be able to talk about everything, to deal with our issues together.”

“But more than anything,” you continue, staring at your hands, “I'm tired of trying to figure it all out by myself. So when Wanda suggested getting professional help, it felt like a new opportunity for me. A new way to... break out of this maze, this cage.”

Your words linger in the silence while Calliope takes a moment to digest them. Eventually, she nods and says, “Y/N, I think that's a great reason to be here. I’m glad to know you’re here because you want to and not out of some obligation to someone. We'll dig into these issues more in our upcoming sessions. I think we've covered enough for now.”

“How am I doing so far?” you ask.

“You’re doing great,” Calliope assures you with a smile.

The clock ticks loudly in the background as Calliope wraps up the session. As you rise from your seat, a wave of exhaustion washes over you. It's only the first day, and yet you already feel drained.

“I hope it wasn't too overwhelming for you, Y/N,” Calliope says. “I'm aware it's a lot to handle.”

“Overwhelming might be an understatement,” you joke, attempting to lighten the mood.

“The first step is always the hardest. I'll see you next week, okay?”

With that, you walk out of the office, a hint of new hope stirring within you. As you step into the dimming sunlight, you take a deep breath of fresh air. Pulling out your phone, you dial Wanda's number.

This journey's going to be a slog, but maybe, just maybe, it'll all pay off in the end.

***

Sunlight paints a warm tableau over the organized chaos of Yelena's workstation. 

A simple wooden desk houses a practical computer, a pot of pens, and a few scattered notebooks. Personal knick-knacks—a journalist's badge, a group photo, and a tongue-in-cheek “World's Best Journalist” trophy from her colleagues—sit next to her actual recent award, the Sidney plaque. These items add a personal flavor to the otherwise no-nonsense setup.

Yelena leans back, letting her eyes wander over the space she's called her own for the past couple of years. The office buzzes quiet chatter, the quick tapping of keys, and the odd ring of a telephone. It's been like a second home to her. It's where she made sense of complicated narratives and pieced together shards of truth. 

As her fingers trace the edges of the plaque, her mind drifts back to the day it became hers. A faint smile pulls at her lips, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She wishes she could have celebrated that victory with someone who once held a special place in her life, but now only resides in bittersweet memories. 

Busy gathering her belongings and tucking away the sentimental reminders of her time here, Yelena is interrupted by a figure stepping into her cubicle. It's the last person she expected to see on her last day at work.

“Wanda?” Yelena questions, surprise quickly morphing into unease.

“Heard it was your last day,” Wanda says, her gaze unflinching.

“How did you track me down?” 

“I have my ways, too,” Wanda answers with a sheepish smile.

“Sure,” Yelena shoots back, hastily stuffing her files into a box and crossing her arms in a defensive posture. “What brings you here, then?”

Wanda seems to falter for a second, then lets out a sigh. “I wanted to talk about Y/N.”

Yelena's heart tightens at the sound of your name. For weeks, she's tried to bury any memories of you—the good, the bad, the utterly heartbreaking. The absolute last thing she needs right now is a deep-dive into you, especially not with Wanda.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Yelena pushes back, her voice edged. You were always a mistake. She was just too bull-headed to admit it.

“I know it’s too much of a thing to ask, but I need your help.” she says. “The way you two left things broke her. It's affecting her more than you think, and I thought you would want to know that.”

“Whatever happened between me and Y/N... our breakup, it's none of your business, Wanda. And honestly, after she clearly picked you, I'm surprised you have the nerve to come ask me for help.”

“I didn't come here because I wanted to, Yelena. And I know I’m being selfish, but… she needs help. And as much as it pains me to say it, I can't do it on my own,” Wanda admits, her face open and sincere.

Yelena's torn between her recent heartache and the residual feelings she has for you. The Sidney Award on her desk seems to taunt her, reminding her of what she'd achieved even when her personal life was falling apart. It was a symbol of her resilience and her capacity to move forward, even when life was doing its best to push her back.

“Fine,” she finally relents, leveling her gaze at Wanda. “But let's get one thing straight. This is the last time we're having this discussion. The last time I’m talking to any one of you. After today, I don’t want to see you or her.”

Though a little relieved, Wanda nods sadly. “Understood.”

***

The city lights are a comforting blur as you make your way back to your apartment after a long day. 

You’ve just hung up the phone with Wanda, who told you she'd be working late at the café tonight. They're revamping the menu, and she's eager to experiment with new recipes.

“That's great, Wands,” you’ve told her, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth despite the fatigue seeping into your bones. “Call me later when you get home, okay? Can't wait to sample those new dishes.”

Upon reaching your apartment and fitting the key into the lock, you notice the door is already unlatched. Warning bells sound off in your head, and you tentatively swing the door open, your senses heightened.

What greets you freezes you in your tracks. Perched on the couch, looking just as startled to see you as you are her, is Yelena. 

Her appearance brings a rush of memories and emotions, making your heart pound in your chest. Of all places, the last spot you anticipated seeing her was in your apartment, particularly given how things ended between you two.

Your last memory of Yelena in your apartment includes her hurriedly collecting her things, desperate to get away from you as fast as she could. You felt like a monster she was fleeing.

Truth be told, you still feel that way.

“Yelena,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper as you shut the door behind you. You throw your keys onto the counter, not tearing your eyes away from her. You're apprehensive that one wrong move might scare her off before you have a chance to voice all the things you've been longing to tell her.

“Y/N,” Yelena echoes, her voice as tender as it was during those nights she used to comfort you. There's an intensity in her green eyes that you've always found captivating. Now, it just makes you feel more uneasy. She stands, smoothing her jeans, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Why are you here?” you ask, inhaling deeply to steady yourself. Your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag, the material pressing into your skin, grounding you in the moment.

Yelena sighs, running a hand through her blonde hair. “I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. But I… I still have the keys so I just let myself in and waited for you to come home.”

“You still have the keys…” you repeat, your voice fading as you digest her words.

“Yes,” Yelena admits. Her tone is apologetic, but her gaze doesn't waver. “I've been meaning to return them, but I didn't know how to face you.” However, if Yelena were to be truly honest, there were plenty of opportunities for her to return the keys. Maybe she was holding onto them because it was the last string that tied her to you.

Silence engulfs the room as you both just study each other for a moment. You weren't quite sure what you'd expect to see the next time you saw her, but she seems to be doing alright, looking as stunning as she always does.

Finally, you find your voice. “What brings you here now, Yelena?” you ask, not unkindly–there’s only surprise, a potent shock from her sudden presence, a confrontation you're utterly unprepared for.

She draws in a deep breath, bracing herself. “I'm here because... because I spoke to Wanda," she starts, her words instantly triggering a wave of ice-cold shock coursing through your veins. “Well, she came to me.” 

“I kinda see now why it’s so impossible for you to get over her.” she adds, punctuated by a faint laugh, which resonates more like a sorrowful sigh–one of the most desolate sounds you've ever heard.

You see the uncertainty in Yelena's eyes, and it makes your heart ache. 

“I… I didn't send Wanda to you,” you clarify gently. “I wouldn’t–”

“I know, Y/N. I know you didn't,” she cuts you off, her eyes fixated on the wall behind you. “I was shocked when Wanda showed up. I wasn't sure... I'm still not sure if coming here was the right thing to do.”

Then she lifts her gaze, their depths, swirling with sadness, locked onto yours. You feel like you're being swallowed into a pit of despair. “After talking to Wanda, I realized I needed closure, Y/N,” she confesses. “And maybe you do too.”

Your chest tightens at the truth in her words. Yes, you both need closure, but knowing it and doing something about it are two different things, and you're not sure what to say.

The space around you suddenly feels smaller, each sound–your shallow breaths, the tick of the clock, the rustle of your clothes–seems louder in the silence that follows.

“I...I don't even know where to start,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “In all those weeks, when I was trying to contact you, I didn't really have a clear thought of what I wanted to say. But what I do know is that I owe you an apology for the rest of my life.”

Yelena’s face softens at that. It’s horrifying to imagine someone apologizing to her for all their days. It’s not what she wants at all. 

Seeking something to anchor you, you head towards the kitchen and retrieve a bottle of wine from the cabinet. As you pour wine into two glasses, you feel the weight of Yelena's gaze on you. It's as if she's trying to read your every thought, every intention.

“I'm sorry, Yelena,” you repeat, your voice steadier now. “I… honestly, I’ve got nothing better to say. I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” 

You extend the wine glass towards Yelena, and she accepts it swiftly, taking a hearty sip. A sense of déjà vu envelops you as you watch her. How many nights had you spent like this in the past? Sharing a drink, talking until the wee hours of the morning, figuring out your thoughts, your emotions. 

Now, they're just… gone.

“I don't need your apology,” she begins evenly, despite the pain that flashes in her eyes. “I know you're sorry. I can see it, I can hear it. But what I need, what I want to understand, is why... why you entered a relationship with me when you were still in love with Wanda. Why you lied straight to my face when you said you didn't love her anymore.”

The question hits home, and you’ve been asking it yourself since you kissed Wanda that night. It's a question that has haunted you through more sleepless nights than you can count.

“I... I was horrible to Wanda,” you sigh, finishing your wine on the second sip. “What I did, how I treated her... I thought that meant I didn't love her anymore. My actions told me I didn't love her. But the truth is, I was just angry. I was hurt, and I acted out in the worst possible way. I was, you could say, in denial.”

Your eyes flicker to Yelena, catching the flash of hurt that crosses her face. You press on, your heart heavy. “It took me some time, but I realized that underneath all the anger and the hurt, my love for Wanda never died. It was there, just... buried. I'm so sorry, Yelena, for dragging you into my mess. You didn't deserve any of it.”

“Did you ever love me?” Yelena asks, a tear slipping from the corner of her eyes. “Because it felt like you did. Maybe it wasn’t intentional, but it was there. We were happy… at least I thought we were.”

“I did love you, Yelena. I mean, I still do,” you confess, your voice low but firm. “But perhaps not in the way you deserved, not in the way I loved you before you left for the UK and–and before I met Wanda.” 

Your hands fumble with the empty wine glass. “I was so confused, so hurt. You were there for me, and I... I took advantage of that. And I'm sorry.”

Yelena makes a futile attempt to swipe away another tear that trickles down her cheek. But the tears are relentless, persistently rolling down one after the other, soon overwhelming her attempts to keep them at bay.

“We were happy,” you confirm softly as you look away. “And I will always cherish those moments with you. They’re the only silver lining in the fucking hell I went through the past year. I… I never meant to hurt you, Yelena. I wanted–”

I wanted it to be you, the words almost escape you. And it would’ve been the worst thing you’ll ever say to her. 

“But I wasn't, was it?” Yelena cuts in, as if reading your mind, her voice a choked whisper. She stands abruptly, pushing her chair back. “I was just... I was a placeholder, wasn't I? A distraction from your feelings for Wanda.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of you. You're silent for a moment, struggling to find words.

“I...I didn't intend for it to be like that, Yelena. I didn't,” you finally manage to say. “I wasn't fair to you and I am so sorry for that.”

Yelena nods, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. She moves to her purse and pulls out a familiar keychain, placing it on the table in front of you. The keys to this apartment you once shared, this home you had together.

“When I came here, I thought it wouldn't hurt as much, but it does,” she says, her voice strained. “I'm sorry it didn't work out, Y/N.”

“Me too,” you respond, your eyes fixed on the keys. You can feel a lump forming in your throat, making it harder to swallow.

Before she steps towards the door, you find your voice once more. “Yelena?” 

She pauses, turning to look at you. 

“Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive me?” you ask.

She gazes at you for a moment, her green eyes filled with a world of sadness. Then, she simply shrugs and turns to the door. “I don't know, Y/N. I just... I don't know.”

With that, she leaves, the apartment door closing behind her with a soft click that echoes painfully through the room.

***

“Hey, sis,” Pietro's tired face appears on her phone screen. It's been a while since Wanda last spoke to him. They decided to take a break from each other amicably, canceling their plans for the past week and the week before. 

He was upset about Wanda seeing you again, and she had a feeling he was the one who told you about her hospitalization—the one thing she made him promise never to reveal.

“Piet,” Wanda's voice is softer than she intended, the sight of her brother filling her with a mix of relief and apprehension. “It's been a while.”

“Yeah,” Pietro agrees, running a hand through his hair which is surprisingly back to its natural chestnut hue. “Sorry about that, by the way. I was a bit... heated.”

“That's one way to put it,” Wanda replies, her laugh forced and hollow. She studies her brother, his features softened by the faint glow from his screen. Despite their recent falling out, there's a comfort in seeing him again, a balm to a part of her she hadn't even realized was hurting.

Pietro huffs out a breath, scratching at his scruffy chin. “So… How are you doing, Wands?”

“Doing well, actually,” Wanda replies, her voice holding a certain calmness she didn't feel. “Though I think before anything, there’s something I need to ask you.”

A wary look flashes across Pietro's face, but he gives her a nod to proceed.

“Did you send that picture of me in the hospital to Y/N?”

For a moment, Pietro is quiet, the playfulness that usually shines in his eyes replaced by a kind of grave understanding. He sighs heavily before speaking.

“Yes. Look, I'm sorry, Wanda. Maybe it wasn't my place to send it,” Pietro says, the lines on his forehead deepening with unease. “But Y/N needed to understand the consequences of her actions, her effect on you.”

“She didn’t force me to do anything, Piet. I chose to take the pills–”

“But she took advantage of you. She knew how far you would go for her forgiveness. She’s not blameless,” Pietro interrupts, firm in his convictions. “And she needed to face the reality of her actions. It could be for her own good too–have you considered that?”

Processing his words, Wanda remains silent for a beat. When she finally speaks, her voice is laced with resignation. “I suppose you have a point.”

“How did Y/N react?” Pietro asks, his voice careful but insistent, as if treading on fragile ground. He's still not sure if what he did was right, but the fact that his sister hasn’t gone ballistic on him proves to be a good sign.

“She was... horrified, to say the least,” Wanda reveals, a tremble creeping into her voice. "She felt guilty, and she took some responsibility. But we... we also decided that we're not going to let our past control our future."

Pietro raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

“We're giving our relationship another shot. But this time, we're going about it differently,” she explains. “We're attending therapy. Together.”

“Really? And how's that working out?” Pietro questions, his features softening.

“It's...tricky,” Wanda admits, her fingers idly twirling a loose thread on her blanket. “But it's a step forward.”

“I suppose... that's all I can hope for,” he concedes. “But Wanda, you need to make a promise to me.”

“What is it?” she stumbles over her words a bit, her heartbeat quickening.

“You have to promise me that if things don't work out, you won't let it drag you down,” he implores, his eyes betraying his vulnerability. "You've made so much progress, Wanda. And I... I can't stand to see you get hurt again."

“I promise,” she whispers. “I'm not the same person I was before. Whatever happens, it won’t erase the growth I've experienced over these months.”

“Good,” Pietro finally breathes out, visibly relaxing at her assurance.

There's a pause before his eyes regain their usual playful glint. “Alright, sis, we're still on for Christmas in LA, aren't we?”

She chuckles softly, the sound still a bit watery from their talk. 

“Yes, Piet, I am still coming to LA for Christmas,” Wanda confirms, before hesitating a second later. “And, um, I was wondering if… if Y/N could come with me?"

Pietro is silent for a moment, and Wanda finds herself holding her breath. She can practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“You're serious about this, aren't you?” His voice finally cuts through the silence, but it's devoid of any hints towards his own thoughts.

“I am,” Wanda affirms. It was important for her that Pietro understood this, even if he wasn't fully on board. She knew her brother had his reservations, but this was something she needed.

Pietro exhales, a small chuckle slipping out. “Okay, counter-proposal,” he begins, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If you're dragging Y/N to LA, then I get to bring mom.”

At that, Wanda goes still. She had been estranged from their mother for a while now, her relationship with her complicated at best. But she knew how important family was to Pietro, and if she was asking him to accept you into their tight-knit circle, it was only fair that she did the same.

Now that she's making meaningful strides with you, she can start to tackle other parts of her life that have been quietly burdening her for years. Perhaps it's time to revisit those letters her mother has been sending. Maybe even write her back if she’s brave enough.

After a moment, Wanda finally speaks. “Okay,” she whispers, nodding to herself more than him. “Okay, we've got a deal.”

Pietro's laugh is loud and full of relief. “Awesome,” he grins. “It's a Christmas of reconciliation, then.”

With a few more parting words and a promise to see him soon, Wanda ends the call. 

It feels like she’s just crossed one hurdle. The rest, she'd take one step at a time.

***

Dear Mom,

It's been a long time since we last spoke. And, well, a lot has happened.

I've been doing a lot of work on myself lately. I've been seeing a therapist and I've been trying to sort through all these emotions that I've kept locked away for so long. The loss of dad, the hurt when you left Pietro and me... it's been tough, but I'm getting through it. I hope you've found peace wherever you are too.

Pietro and I are planning a quiet little Christmas get-together in LA, and he suggested we invite you. After some thought, I agree.

This letter isn't going to fix all the hurt or mend the broken bridges between us. Some days it feels like our relationship is just a distant memory.

But maybe it’s a start.

I'm ready to try, if you are.

Sincerely,

Wanda

Wanda's eyes lingers over the letter she just finished drafting, a silent war waging within her over whether to send it or not. But before she can talk herself out of it, she briskly folds the paper into neat thirds and slips it into an envelope. She pens her mother's address on the front with a surprising calmness.

Just as she’s sealing the envelope, a sudden knock on the door snaps her out of her reverie.

She rises from her seat, a flicker of surprise crossing her face as she moves to answer the door. Her breath catches as she finds you standing on her doorstep, looking thoroughly disheveled under the soft, dim hallway lighting. Before she can utter a word, you close the distance between you, pulling her into a desperate hug.

“Y/N...” Wanda breathes out, frozen in surprise for a moment. But then, her arms automatically wrap around your form, pulling you closer.

She can feel your body shaking slightly, a sign that something is terribly wrong. Concerned, she pulls away just enough to look at you, cupping your face gently with her hands.

“What happened, Y/N?” she asks, worry etched into her features. “Talk to me.”

With a soft murmur, you say a single name: “Yelena.” Instinctively, Wanda’s hold around you tightens. She hadn’t anticipated that Yelena would approach you so soon after their conversation earlier in the day, considering Yelena's initial reluctance to Wanda's request.

“Can I stay here tonight?” you ask, your voice barely more than a muffled whisper against the fabric of Wanda's shirt, which is slowly growing damp from your unrestrained tears.

“Absolutely,” Wanda replies softly, “Stay as long as you need.”

Wanda gently guides you through the apartment, leading you into the quiet comfort of her bedroom. The familiar softness of the bed and the comforting scent of the sheets, still perfumed with her, feels like the safest place on earth—exactly where you need to be.

Tenderly, she tucks you into the bed, pulling the comforter all the way to your chin. Your heavy-lidded eyes, burdened by the day's challenges, gaze at her while she lovingly brushes away stray strands of hair from your face.

Your response is to merely nuzzle closer to her, comforted by the soft strokes of her hand along your face.

Wanda begins to withdraw, intending to give you space, but she halts, looking down at you. “I... I'm sorry. About Yelena, I–”

“Don't, Wanda.” you interrupt gently, your fingers curling around hers.

She pauses, her eyes searching yours, her mouth opening as though to argue, but your words come before she has a chance. “Thank you,” you express, tears pooling in your eyes.

Your voice softens as you struggle with the next request, your gaze on her becoming almost pleading. “Can you… can you just... stay with me?”

Wanda catches the full weight of your request—it's not just her presence you're seeking, not just for this night. It's a plea she also yearns to make to you, but she understands that it's not the time for that yet.

She simply nods in response, slipping under the covers next to you. Her arm encircles you, drawing you closer into her warm embrace.

And so, you hold onto her throughout the night, never letting go.

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[goingferalforhim]

[ just doing my job ]

📂 big bro! gojo satoru x geto! fem! reader ( x bf! toge inumaki ) . somewhere along the way gojo became your big brother (and he loves to tease you about your love life) . mentions of reader and gojo missing suguru .

“they remind you of us, right?”

“maybe a bit,” you shrug, wearing a grin as you peer up at the white haired man. “yuji’s definitely funnier than you ever were tho.”

your teacher scoffs, flicking your forehead. “you were a child, you don’t remember anything.”

“I actually remember a good bit of my childhood, thank you very much.” you hiss as you rub at your head.

the two of you fall into a silence once again, turning to face the group of students in front of you. your gaze lingers from the three first years arguing to the three second year students—your classmates. they each stand, looking bored and fed up, as they wait for the other three to settle down; something the man beside you should be encouraging.

as you catch bits and pieces of the argument broken out on the training field you giggle to yourself, your mind returning back to when you were younger and would witness your brother, gojo, and shoko have their moments of disagreements—it usually ended in them turning to you, a literal child, for a final say.

“you don’t think I’m an attention seeker, right?” satoru had pouted, tilting his head to the side. shoko and suguru groaning behind him in unison. “say no and i’ll buy you something,” the white haired teen whispered as he leaned forward.

“whoa! whoa! whoa! there will be no bribing,” suguru had shoved himself between the two of you now and the argument had only escalated from there. but in the end satoru did buy you something, and then a few more somethings—“what I cant spoil my sister?”

“she’s my sister, satoru.”

your lips press into a thin line as you blink away the image of your brother, a dull ache pulsing through your heart—you missed him. you missed the way he’d comb your hair and twirl it back into a bun, you missed how he’d patiently sit and allow you to paint his nails different colours—sometimes he’d even allow you to give him a face of makeup to match his whole look. “don’t you look pretty,” satoru would mumble as he welcomed himself into suguru’s dorm—bags of snacks for the three of you to share.

he always bought your favourites—even now; whenever satoru returned from a mission it was always expected that he’d return baring some sort of treat or candy he spotted throughout his journey, even if it was simply heading down the block. satoru loved his sweets. yuji often complained as your teacher handed you a gift.

the pink hair boy would pout and wonder where his candy was, but you always shared—and eventually satoru had gotten into the habit of buying multiple treats. “you don’t have to buy more than one, satoru. its fine, really.” but in gojo fashion he ignored your statement and proceeded to arrive at your dorm with a plastic bag full of your favourite sweet pink-packaged candies that you loved so much.

sometimes he’d arrive at your dorm to hear your vibrant laughs or the constant chatter of you and your fellow students as you played games and caught up after classes.

he’d knock softly and wait, never opening the door unless you called out or did it yourself. his tall frame would loom over you as you peered up at him from the doorway, he’d grin and extend an arm—plastic bag crinkling at the movement. your own hands would grip the handles and pull them to your side. “thank you, ‘toru.”

“just doing my job,” he’d joke. at first it confused you, but you hadn’t questioned it. you suppose this was apart of his job, going out and fighting curses, and then returning with candy. but one night when he arrived at your door he expected silence, the sun had set hours ago and he planned on leaving the bag of sweets outside your door to find in the morning—but when your muffled sobs greeted his ears he found his knuckles softly tapping at the wood separating the two of you. “sweetheart?” he was met with silence, but your sobs had ceased. “you don’t have to let me in,” he whispers. “but I just need to know if you’re okay.”

“you can come in, satoru.” your voice was strained, and the mere sound of it practically shattered his heart.

he pops the door open slightly, “are you sure? if you wanna be alone thats alright.” his blue eyes meet your bloodshot one as you nod. he shuts the door softly and settles himself on the edge of your bed, his fingers mindlessly tracing the pattern of your duvet.

“do you ever miss him?”

your question catches him off guard, but he nods. “all the time,” he sighs.

“what do you do? you know, to make it better?” he slumps, his hand reaching for yours. you let him take it, he cringes at the coolness to your touch—taking your hand between both of his to attempt to warm your fingertips.

“I like to think about all the fun we had together, things we liked to do…sometimes I like to pretend he’s still here.” he admits with a soft shrug, his gaze still on your hand sandwiched between his.

“me too,” you hum—shuffling closer, leaning on his side. he sighs and places his head atop yours. the scent of his bodywash comes off of him in waves and the linger of his lavender shampoo tickles at your nose. “thank you for always being here for me.”

“just doing my job,” his forefinger and thumb pinch at your cheek, you swat him away as his words settle in. his job hadn’t been going on missions and bringing you back a sweet, his job was going on a mission and bring you back a sweet—because he was your brother.

you’re not sure when satoru became your brother, but one day he had stolen you away from suguru to go and have a brother-sister date—at the time you had only giggled at his words, but now…

satoru contacted you every morning with his schedule for the day, and if anything in the routine shifted he’d tell you—I just want you to know where I am in case you ever need me. at breakfast, lunch, and dinner he’d send you a text and asked if you ate—and if he was around he’d offer to get you you’re favourite take out. and in true brotherly fashion—when nobara had let it slip that you were going on a date with toge later one night, gojo satoru became peak big brother.

he didn’t know if he should send the younger boy glares or poke at him. should he threaten him or tell him your embarrassing stories?

which leads to now. the two of you watching the other students attempt to train.

“toge is looking at you,” you scoff and shove at his shoulder.

“stop.”

“what? I thought you loved him,” the smirk is prominent on his lips.

“we…we haven’t said the L-word yet,” you blush—your gaze focused on your hands as they sit in your lap. satoru chuckles from above you.

you glance up, peeking through your lashes—and just as satoru had said, toge stands staring at you.

his gentle eyes meet yours, and even from where you sit you can see the way the corners crinkle with his hidden smile.

“well, just by that smile alone I can tell he loves you.”

© goingferalforhim

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

"You're set free..."

Word count | 2653

⚠️ Warnings | Satanic subject matter. TW for guns, murder ghouls, blood, injuries, violence, and death (implied).

Plot Summary: It's initiation day at the Ministry and Terzo is welcoming the newest group and leading them in their first unholy sermon. A Christian rat from a neighbouring church is sent to kill him, but realizes too late that his body guards are not exactly human and they are very protective...

A/N: I thought of this on the train yesterday, I didn't expect it to be so long but I hope it's somewhat enjoyable to read!! 🖤 xo Emery

It was no secret that the Ministry of Ghost was an ambiguous topic for many of the townsfolk. Some often thought of them as a branch of the Church. Some thought of them as a type of religious cemetery – worshipping the dead and helping to guide lost souls to the other side. Some thought they were a group of creative LARP extremists who decided to live out their fantasies in the previously abandoned ancient church that sat on the edge of the town limits.

None of these ideas or thoughts would be considered wrong, for the Ministry is whatever you need it to be. For those who turn to them in search of salvation and redemption will always find it and much more.

The Ministry held a unique standpoint with the neighbouring Churches. For most of the year tensions were low. Discourse and disagreements were quiet, settled through written correspondences. One left the other to their own devices for the most part. However, there was always an uproar of displeasure when the Abbey held their initiation day.

The Clergy would never try to hide when it was; printing a section in the newspapers, and posted dates on flyers spread around the town encouraging all those who wish to be a part of something more to come and explore what they had to offer. For Terzo, it was his favourite day. Always eager to be the first face the new initiates met. His charm and charisma often won over the masses within minutes.

A new initiation day was just around the corner. Terzo was in his office reviewing the applications with great fervor. It was his responsibility to guide these impressionable and naive people towards a better life, one not bound by the strict rules and conditions of the God they thought they knew. Once they swore into the Ministry, Terzo took it upon himself to help make sure they found a job most suited to their interests and abilities.

A knock on his office door was heard before Sister Imperator made her entrance.

“It’s nice to see you finally working and not off galavanting with that ghoul of yours.”

Terzo smiled, his fangs peeking through. “Oh we plan to later, Sister. Thanks for your concern.”

She rolled her eyes and moved to the plush armchair that sat on the opposite side of his large wooden desk.

“How does it look this time? Any concerns?”

“Not at the moment, no. There’s a lot of women of course, which is always a blessing. A few more men this time as well, I’m sure the ghoulettes will be happy to have some fresh meat around here.” He flipped through the pages, making small notes as he went along.

“That’s good. If any of them cause trouble, I suppose the ghouls haven’t had a good hunt for a while. I’m sure some of them would enjoy a chase through the forest after being cooped up in here for so long. They worry me sometimes you know? How feral some of them can be. Are you sure they’re safe to be present during this important occasion?”

Terzo immediately stopped his browsing and set the papers down to look at her. “Sister. I would trust my ghouls with my life. They are fiercely loyal. I will not have you question my ability to control them.”

She just scoffed and rolled her eyes before standing. “I don’t want another incident.”

“You won’t get one. There’s a reason the new summons aren’t allowed near the chapel on initiation days. Being chosen to protect me during a service is a great privilege, and one that has to be earned over time.”

Sister nodded and said no more on the topic as she left to get ready for the night’s festivities.

The Abbey really came to life during this time of year. The autumn leaves of the tree’s turning shades of yellow, golden, and green. The chill in the air set the tone just right. The bare branches poking out along the walkway made the gothic church look picturesque in the moonlight.

The stained glass windows flickering as images of the Emeritus brothers in their Papal attire were lit by the many candles burning inside. All the Siblings of Sin chosen to help with this momentous occasion lined the path, guiding the newcomers to the front doors dressed in their best habits and dark makeup. 

Terzo awaited at the top of the front steps, he was always excited to meet new people. It was the one thing he sorely missed about not being on tour anymore. He loved interacting with the crowd and seeing new faces every night. When the new initiates began to walk slowly up the path, he may have let out a giggle of excitement, a smile never leaving his face but remaining his charming self.

To his left and right were his two most protective bodyguards. Standing proud like statues in their old uniforms from Secondo’s days. They didn’t appear in their full ghoulish form, instead they were a normal acceptable human height (although neither Alpha or Omega could glamour themselves to be less than 6’2” without it being quite uncomfortable).

Their piercing violet and ember eyes intensely watched over those entering the sanctuary from behind their black masks. Ensuring the safety of the Siblings, the Clergy and of course, Terzo was their biggest priority and greatest achievement.

The group of newcomers walked up the stairs and past the ghouls, Terzo shaking hands and welcoming each and every one of them with a warm appreciation for coming. Most took a look at the ghouls and thought they were there as a deterrent to ward off unwanted visitors, no more than static, spooky gargoyles.

However, one man in particular stood in front of Alpha and studied him intensely. The ghoul never once directly acknowledging him, still focused on surveying the rest, but letting out a low growl that sounded like crackling embers as his eyes moved slowly scanning the crowd. 

The man was in his mid 40s, not the fittest but not heavy. His hair was cut short, the grey streaks becoming prominent around the sides and within his short beard. He was not a large man either, only standing about 5’8”, yet both ghouls sensed he was capable of something sinister.

Saying nothing, he scoffed and walked through the open double doors past the others without acknowledging Terzo in the slightest.

Once the last soul passed through the doors, the Siblings trailed in behind before returning to their previous duties. The two ghouls followed them in, making sure to scan the grounds for threats before locking the doors.

The congregation made their way into the chapel, finding a seat in the pews waiting for the sermon to start. Some spoke softly to their new friends, some were taking in the unconventional decor. Each window showcasing one of the brothers, starting from Papa Nihil whose likeness was displayed closest to the front.

As they faced the stage, behind the altar was the largest window of them all. Elegantly designed in shades of red black and orange, the dark one himself prayed over those before him with arms open wide. The room was lit with a wide arrangement of black and red candles on the most beautiful gothic candle holders. At the back was a grand piano and an assortment of instruments.

The chapel doors were always left open during dark mass to allow any passerby’s to join if they so wished. Today was no exception. Alpha and Omega once again emerged to stand guard at their respective sides of the stage before Terzo appeared and stood before the altar, causing the initiates to rise.

“Oh! Please do sit down, you’ve walked a long way. You all must be very tired. Please sit.” He gestured for his prospects to take a seat with a kind smile.

“The walkway is long, no?”

This earned a quiet chuckle.

“I appreciate you taking the time out of your night to come join us. We are very happy that you are here. Let me just begin by saying, this will be a very different experience than anything you have ever imagined. The doors are always open to leave at any time. This is the idea our Ministry is based on, the ability to make your own decisions. Free will.”

He paused, scanning the crowd.

“Free will is what we teach here. It is what so many of us only think we have. When in all reality, you do not. I know many of you have lost faith in the idea of this so-called ‘God’ and are here looking for answers. I cannot guarantee you answers, but I can guarantee we will help you find whatever it is you seek. All of your truths, questions, and desires can be found within these walls. You need only ask for them.”

It was Omega’s turn to find the suspicious man in the crowd. The grey haired man sat alone in the 3rd pew from the back. Glancing around he looked almost disgusted at the others eagerly listening to Terzo’s speech. To him they looked like hopeless children desperately begging for someone to lead them into the light. Omega’s pointed ear twitched under his hood at the sound of the man’s low scoff and his eyes were drawn immediately to where he sat.

“The Ministry of Ghost has been a lot of things for a lot of people. That’s the beauty of it. We do not operate off a book. There are rules but they are for the safety of those who choose to devote themselves to our cause. They are not there to decide what is right or wrong, they are not there to deny you what you yearn for. Let this be your first day of light. Let this be your first day of being who you were truly meant to be without fear of sin or abandonment. Let this Ministry guide you and let you give in to what you only dreamed was possible. 

“This is a chance to be reborn, to give your soul a new life in the light of Lucifer. Lucifer who is not the devil everyone fears. He is the devil who holds your hand through your toughest battles and protects fiercely his loyal companions. He gives you the ability to make things happen without fear of damnation. He will not shun you or cast you aside for your sins, he will embrace and encourage you to take control of your life knowing he is the force that made you be.”

There was nodding amongst the majority as Terzo projected such safety and passion. His willingness to help washing over them like a safety blanket as they started to finally see what they truly wanted. What they truly needed and had been denying themselves for too long.

This was the breaking point for that one gentleman.

“You are demon worshippers. Nothing but a no good satanic cult, and this just proves it!” He stood and yelled, his voice echoing off the chapel walls and up into the tall ceiling.

Normally bodyguards would be at the ready at such a display of aggression, but the two ghouls stood stoic and still, never even flinching. Terzo was also not phased in the slightest as he stepped away from the altar and started speaking to the troubled man directly.

“I can see you are troubled with what we have spoken about here today. It’s okay if you aren’t ready to submit to the will of the dark saviour just yet, he appreciates you–”

“Enough with the lies! Enough with poisoning the minds of these god fearing people!” The man starts to address the crowd. “Can’t you see that this is wrong? How can you all be okay with eternal damnation? An eternity in the fiery pits of Hell. An eternity of service at this… demons will!” He pointed towards Terzo, who had to fight back a laugh.

“I assure you sir, I am no demon. I am no more or less than any of those among us here tonight.”

The gentleman’s anger raged on as he became more unstable. “You are a demon. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. Spewing nothing but deception and sin.” He reached into his pocket and looked around to find all eyes were on him. “I will prove you are not of this Earth. You were created by the devil himself.”

A small gun was drawn and pointed in Terzo’s direction, yet his ghouls once again never moved from their places, although their senses were on high alert. Being ghoul’s they were able to sense and notice things a lot quicker than the average human, but still were waiting for orders to do anything other than stand at Terzo’s side.

“There is no reason for such anger, my son. There’s no need for such hate. Is this what your God has taught you? Unfortunately you are not ready to receive the unholy blessing, the doors that were open to welcome you are now closed.”

Terzo slowly looked over his shoulder to Omega, who used his Quintessence to get into the troubled man's mind and force him to drop the gun, never moving from his position at Terzo’s right hand side. The man's arm was pinned at his side, Omega simply turning his head looking for his next command.

“What…. What trickery is this?!”

“No trickery. You just got it wrong, mio fratello. I am no demon, but there are demons who walk among us. Demons that are willing to do whatever I command without question or hesitation. Demons that are here to serve as our loyal friends and protectors from people like you.”

As Terzo spoke, the two ghouls rose to their full height, their ghoulish form still obstructed but were unnaturally tall. Their eyes glowed aggressively through the eye sockets of their masks, their tails revealed along with their long claws and fangs extended that put vampires to shame.

“You are all going to Hell. They will find out and they will–”

“Who said they would find out?”

Omega’s mental hold on the man ceased and he stumbled forward before turning around to run through the doors of the chapel. Terzo gave a slight nod and both ghouls pounced after him, never once grazing those who were nearby. They knocked the man to the floor with loud growls, their claws eagerly latching onto his back.

“Ah-ah! Alpha, not inside please.”

The ghoul was about to rip into the man's throat before recoiling to look at Terzo and nodding in acknowledgement. Settling for digging his claws further into the naysayers back, hoisting him up by his ribcage and skillfully avoiding puncturing his lung as he carried his bleeding body out the doors.

Omega followed close behind, his quintessence shutting the door so the rest could finish their initiation. In their stead, Chain and Earth stood dutifully.

“I’m sorry you all had to see that. You are not in any danger here. The ghouls are normally very approachable and kind.” Terzo cleared his throat nervously.

“While you live within this Ministry, you will never have to look over your shoulder or run in fear. I hope this unfortunate situation was a testament to that. The ghouls are bound to serve us, and do so quite happily. Please treat them as your friends, turn to them if you have issues. They are not to be feared but make no mistake, they are still born of Hell and deserve to be respected as such. Your false prophet gives you no such protectors. Now come, let this dark blessing be the first actions of true free will.”

Terzo opened his arms to welcome them all. Lining up for their first unholy sacrament as the screams of the true sinner were heard off in the distance.

[the-first-three-smp]

Before Players, there were the Gods - and before the Gods, were the Overseers. . .

Welcome to The First Three SMP! We're a brand new, 17+, modded Minecraft server ( roughly 52 mods! ) with a focus on a factions system! With 3 Overseers comes 3 Factions; each based in a different dimension. Will you follow the eldest, Jorden, through the lush and lively Overworld? Or Mellan, the middle child, through the beautifully cold void in the End? Or, perhaps the youngest, Helvete and their loyal Hellhound Vaktare, through the brutal and unforgiving Nether? With mods expanding upon each dimension (as well as some QOL stuff, too!), the world of Minecraft feels fuller than ever! Will you keep your head down and watch, or will you join your faction in whatever.. disagreements, may come? We have an overall plotline in mind (that'll be shared as it unfolds!), but with this in mind, we encourage your own character building as well!

Now, some quick bullet points, for convenience:

➽ 17+!

➽ LGBTQ+ friendly!

➽ We aim to sort you into the faction you want, but please keep in mind it's not a guarantee!

➽ Make new friends (and even enemies, in lore of course)!

➽ While fairly roleplay centric, it's absolutely not a requirement, but definitely encouraged!

➽ Events held when possible, hopefully semi-regularly!

➽ If/When accepted, you'll be invited to the Discord!

Now, last but not least, click HERE for the application form! Still have questions? Feel free to reach out to us and we'll do our best to answer! We hope to see you again soon!

[wraithdance]

The TF 141 Compatibility Love Report

For: @gardenthatneversleeps

Disclaimer:

This is based on my personal opinion and interpretation of you and the character.  the user makes no claims to be a real doctor (or any medical professional, really). Any mandatory subpoenas issued by the court in retaliation for your disapproval of the users anecdotal assessment, will be met with gaslighting, gatekeeping and girl bossing of the highest degree.

The Doc says your TF 141 Perfect Match is…

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish!

Romance: You may be a little more shy or conservative when it comes to love, maybe someone who prefers to know outright their partner's feelings for them. Soap would work best for you as a partner who both encourages (relentlessly begs) you to do things you’re afraid of and will work to protect your pride. Soap is passionate in a way that is all encompassing, he would be the type to shower you with love and attention without further prompting.

Breakfast in bed, early mornings drinking coffee on the porch with whispers of the future he sees with you and silly impromptu rom com moments would make the relationship with you flourish! He’s also incredibly intelligent and can offer insight on anything that’s on your mind. Even if it’s just giving an opinion on if you should drop that friend or explaining the intricacies of bomb making, he’s open to give his insight.

In my (un)professional opinion you also like the thrill of controlled danger. Soap is a rugged, known hothead who fights adamantly about the causes and people who he cares for, so you would be the hairline trigger for this loyal (dog) man. After some time with him you would find yourself acting like an old married couple whose disagreements lead to more passionate makeup sessions which leads me next to…

Sex: Soap is someone who wouldn’t blink an eye at your more kinkier requests and will put all his efforts into fulfilling your fantasies. You want to roleplay or string him up by his nipples, he’s asking for your input on his acting believability and googling techniques for safe rigging. He’s also known to be a dirty, disgusting DOG for a reason! The man isn’t shy about flipping you around and tonguing you down to an inch of your life. He’d also welcome being dommed if you ever felt a desire for it. He’s also not one who is easily embarrassed, he lives by the motto of ‘ask for forgiveness, not permission’ and will laugh if you swat him for getting a little too close to a forbidden hole while he’s slurping you up like chicken noodle soup. Like I said, Soap is passionate and if you like seeing big burly men beg, he’s the one for you!

Possible points of Contention:

Hotheaded and hard to talk down when feeling righteous

Will not stop humping your leg while sleeping

Prone to pranking

Motor mouth lol

Your Poly Pairing (haha) is….

SoapGaz- For the reasons listed previously, SoapGaz would be your best poly pairing! Both men would dote on you and combine forces to enshrine you in a ball of love. Gaz’s more charming and considerate nature would act as a balm for any Soap related mishaps. The beauty equivalent to Soap's beast in every way! Will also have you clawing out of bed on hands and knees as you try to avoid going into the light. (Sorry they’re not going to stop asking for one more big O, you’re doomed. :D )

[psychedelic-ink]

We Fall Like Snow ║ Part V

series summary: After the events that took place at the Cliff Beasts set, needless to say as his bodyguard (and friend) you became overprotective of Dieter. You have all your worries under control until you accidentally flip over a young fan by grabbing her wrist, causing the media to stir with speculations as to why. Luckily Dieter's family arrives in the nick of time, scooping you both from New York to their cozy cabin; however winter wonderland can't last forever and you need to face the consequences of your actions sooner or later.

pairing: Dieter Bravo x bodyguard!ofc; Amina Addams, written in reader format

chapter summary: Dieter and Everett are in disagreement about what Dieter should do when it comes to his relationship with you. Tension between you and Dieter raises during the masked ball.

word count: 4.7k

chapter warnings: piv, possesive!dieter, rough/angry sex, bathroom sex, dirty talking, a hint of degradation, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mirror sex, hair pulling, biting, angst towards the end

a/n: WELCOME TO THE BRIDGERTON EPISODE! 🤣 this chapter was inspired by @fuckyeahdindjarin 's amazing fic Anachronisms which is Bridgerton themed and I highly encourage everyone to go and read it ❤️ at his point this is just me putting every cliche I like into one series, enjoy!

**dividers by the amazing @saradika

Dieter isn’t a fan of the situation he’s found himself in. 

First of all, there’s the matter of you. You confuse him endlessly, your words the complete opposite of what your body is telling him. You behave one way, but speak another. Last night after the phone call, you had no issue with kissing him—Sure, it could be argued that you’d done it due to the mistletoe rules, but Dieter knows you, and if you didn’t want to kiss him you wouldn’t have. But at the same time, you keep acting as if all of this is going to end sometime soon, and that scares the ever-living shit out of him. 

He doesn’t want it to end. He’s extremely happy being a part of your personal life; he’s a huge fan of the way you look at him with those big doe eyes, always looking so confused, yet enamored with him at the same time. 

Dieter’s not sure how all of this is supposed to work when you go back. It’s easy for him; he’s been living this chaotic lifestyle for a while now, but he knows it’s an issue for you. He’s happy you’ve been distancing yourself from social media because he checked and it’s safe to say you would freak if you saw what people are saying. Most of his fanbase loved you, but an equal number of people didn’t. He knows he really shouldn’t be looking at what people are saying either, but he can’t help himself. 

And now, among all this emotional wreckage, he has to wrestle Everett. 

He’s been saying no to a match for years, he would’ve said no again if it wasn’t for you and your determination. He still feels the ghost of your body pressed against his when he managed to knock you to the ground; all the blood had rushed to his cock, and you luckily didn’t seem to notice. 

“You’re distracted,” Everett says, putting another mat down on the ground. Dieter isn’t sure why they had to do it outside, his mom said it would be easier for all of them. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” 

Dieter snorts, “As if I need luck,” 

Briefly, he sees your silhouette alongside his dad’s through the window. Warmth blossoms in his chest, a soft smile tugging at his heartstrings as his gaze grows soft. 

“You seem confident, it’s a good look on you,” he grins. “I guess you’re planning on defeating me with the power of love,” 

Dieter’s head snaps back to meet his cousin’s gaze, Everett wiggles his eyebrows and in return, Dieter rolls his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” 

“Please, I see the way you look at her,” Everett gestures to the window ben when Dieter turns back to look you’re not there anymore. “She’s totally into you too, don’t worry,” 

“You think so?” 

“I wish I had taken a video of the two of you singing, literal sparks were flying in the air. It was magical,” 

“Oh, shut up,” he grunts, laying down another mat. “I’m never singing again.” 

“So you’re telling me the two of you aren’t dating?” 

“Nope.” Dieter hates the way bitterness is heavy in his voice but he can’t just help it. “She’s acting as if everything is going to go back to normal and I don’t think I can do that,” 

“Have you tried talking to her about it?” 

“She’s not into me that way. It’s just…physical.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Dieter sighs and shakes his head, “No, I have not tried talking to her about it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Just drop it, Everett. I don’t want to talk about it. She’s just not into me.” Without thinking he adds. “Not everyone is like you,” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“Just forget it.” 

“Forget it?” he shakes his head and crowds Dieter’s space. He’s taller, always has been. “You can’t just say shit and then throw a pity party for yourself. If you have a problem, speak up,” 

“Fine,” Dieter hisses out. “Not all of us are perfect like you, okay? Not everyone falls for us in a minute as soon as we open out mouths—” 

“God, this again,” Everett steps back, which makes Dieter realize he’d been holding his breath. “Dieter, you’re one of the most famous actors in Hollywood. People love you.” 

“The issue isn’t that people don’t love me. The issue is that no one actually cares,” 

“We do—I do. Maybe if you’d called more, or at least return my calls, we could’ve talked it out,” 

“I have enough people feeling sorry for me. I don’t need you to do the same,” 

“Is this why you didn’t come here last year?” 

“I was working! Why is that so hard to understand!” 

“Is everything alright?”

Both their heads snap towards the voice. It’s you, his mom and dad trailing behind you. You don’t even know what’s happening but you’re eyeing Everett suspiciously as if you’ve already decided that he’s in the wrong. The urge to wrap his arm around you overwhelms him and blood pools underneath his fingernails. He exhales from his mouth and steam curls from between his lips as if he’s inhaled smoke. 

“Everything’s fine,” Dieter says, looking away. “We can start the match now.” 

Everett and Dieter grapple, their muscles straining as they fight for dominance on the wrestling mat. Beads of sweat drip down their brows, blending with the snowflakes that dance around them.

Dieter's mom and dad sit on the sidelines, their cheers ringing out into the frosty air. Not wanting to pick favorites, they cheer for both of them—Dieter isn’t sure what he feels about that. But at least you have a clear favorite, which makes his heart soar. 

You stand at the edge of the mat, your voice joining the chorus of support. "Don't give up, Dieter! You can do it!"

Despite his best efforts, Dieter can't seem to best his cousin. Everett towers over him, his build more muscular and imposing. Dieter struggles to keep up, the snow and sweat-slick beneath his feet. Everett puts Dieter in a headlock, his arms tight around Dieter's neck. Dieter struggles against him, trying to break free.

"You always let opportunities pass you by, Dieter," Everett says, his lips close to Dieter's ear. "You always let the good ones slip through your fingers."

Dieter's body reacts instantly to the anger that flares up inside him. His muscles tense, his heart pounding in his chest. He can feel the heat rising to his face. 

“Shut up,” he grunts, drops of sweat falling to the mat. “Shutupshutupshutup—”

Everett’s arms tighten around Dieter’s throat, blocking his air, “You can’t keep running away from yourself. You’re not a kid anymore,” 

His words strike a nerve but Dieter feels completely helpless. His chest feels tight, and he can barely breathe as he grips Everett's forearms, trying to break free.

But then Dieter catches a glimpse of you—You’re worried, mouthing ‘you can do it’ even though he’s on the brink of passing out. 

Something in your eyes gives him strength, and he finds renewed energy in his limbs. He pushes against Everett with a grunt, flips them both over, laying his weight heavy on top of Everett as he pins his cousin to the mat. 

Everett struggles beneath him, but Dieter's training kicks in. He remembers what you taught him and mimics it to his best capability. 

He locks Everett's arm in place and applies pressure, using all his strength to hold him down. Everett grunts in pain, his face contorting with the effort to break free. It's no use. Dieter has him pinned, and he knows it. Dieter grins when he speaks. 

“Come on, give up,”

“Fine, fine,” he coughs out and slams his hand against the mat. “You win.” 

As soon as Everett utters his defeat, Dieter collapses onto the snow-covered ground, his chest heaving with the exertion of the match. He doesn't even feel the chill seeping into his back as he lies there, staring up at the crystal blue sky above.

But then, your face comes into view, and the world becomes more beautiful. Your eyes are bright with concern as you kneel beside him, your hand gentle on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

Dieter nods, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm fine," he manages to gasp. "Just a little winded."

You smile, and the sight fills Dieter with warmth. He reaches up and takes your hand, holding onto it tightly. He feels his entire family staring at the both and he sees the urge you have to turn to face them. But Dieter squeezes your hand, keeping your gaze focused on him. 

“So,” he says. “Do you see me going through a career change? Do I have what it takes to become a bodyguard?” 

A chuckle escapes your lips and you grin from ear to ear, “We would need to work on your stance, but I don’t see why not.” you extend your hand and help him up. “Jokes aside, I’m proud of you. You were great,” 

“I’ll just lay here then,” Everett groans, raising his hand to the sky. “All alone left to die.” 

Dieter swallows down his laughter, “Always the dramatic one,” he says, knowing that he’s usually the dramatic one. “Here, take my hand,” 

With a smile Everett takes Dieter's hand and stands up, dusting the snow off his clothes. "Such a good sport," he coos. 

"Well, I can't have my favorite cousin laid out in the snow, now can I?"

Adaline and Claus come over and pat Everett on the back. "Don't feel too bad, Everett," Adaline says with a sympathetic smile. "You did your best out there."

"Yeah, and Dieter's just a little bit better," Claus adds with a wink. “I’m impressed!”

“The fact that you’re so shocked worries me a little,” Dieter mutters. “Have a little faith,” 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I was sure from the start,” you cut in, stepping between them. “I’m always on your side.” 

"Come on, let's go get some hot cocoa," Adaline says, linking her arm through Everett's. "Besides, we need to get ready for tonight,"

Dieter sees your confusion when you briefly turn to glance at him. He shrugs and watches as you follow the rest of his family inside. 

The infamous masked ball. 

His mother dragged him to it every year, promising it would be fun— It never was. He already attends similar events left and right, and the last thing that he wants to do on vacation is be forced to smile all night. 

But…this time might be different. 

He has you now. 

You’re sitting on the bed in Dieter’s parent's bedroom. You watch as she rummages through her closet, finally pulling out a garment bag. She unzips it with a flourish, revealing a stunning ball gown.

“Really?” you ask, confusion crossing your face. “You bought this for me?” 

“Well, we knew you wouldn’t come here prepared to attend a ball,” she answers with a smile. “I asked Dieter for your measurements and when we went into town yesterday, I went and bought this. Think of it as an early Christmas present,” 

The dress is made of soft, lustrous satin in a rich shade of navy blue. The bodice is fitted, with a sweetheart neckline and delicate cap sleeves. The skirt is full and flowing, with layers of tulle and organza that create a sense of volume and movement. The back of the dress is low, with a row of tiny, sparkling buttons running down the center. Your fingertips dance along the fabric, it’s cold to the touch but also incredibly soft. 

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” you lift your gaze and you see her staring down at you with a softened gaze, she looks so much like Dieter at that moment. “I wish Dieter told me. I didn’t get you guys anything,” 

The bed dips as she sits next to you, she places her hand over yours and squeezes. 

“You’ve done enough, honey. For the first time, I’m seeing Dieter genuinely happy,” she sighs and shakes her head, her voice cracks when she continues. “Ever since he was a boy, Dieter has carried a bit of sadness in him. I’m not sure what caused it—Maybe we did something wrong, I don’t know. But I’m happy to see that he finally found someone who sees the brilliance in him as we do. He’s a kind boy, probably a bit too kind for the world he lives in currently—It’s good to see that he’s not completely alone,” 

“Adaline…” 

She raises her hand, her smile everlasting. “You don’t need to say anything, dear. Or explain yourself. I just wanted you to know that we trust you.” 

You’re overwhelmed. Your cheeks are warm and you can feel sweat building right above your tailbone. A weight has been placed upon your shoulders and you have no idea how to move —or be you —with this newly added weight. You part your lips to say something, anything to remove the sudden burden but before you can, Adaline rises to her feet and heads for the closet. 

“One more thing,” she coos. “And this might be a bit extra, but it’s a masked ball so…” She places a box on your lap, right above the dress, and you stare at her with confusion. “Open it. There are two masks in there, one for Dieter and one for you. We bought them in Venice during our honeymoon,” 

“I…I can’t accept this,” 

She snorts, and you blink with surprise. “I’m not gifting it to you,” she says, crossing her arms. “You don’t need to get all flustered. It’s a loan, don’t let anything happen to it,” 

The humor in her tone forces your stiff body to relax slightly, your head falls forward as you look back down at the box with a smile. 

As you lift the lid of the box, you are immediately struck by the beauty of the masks inside. The first mask is black, with a sleek, refined design. The base of the mask is made of shimmering black satin, and there are long, black feathers sticking out from the top. The crown of the mask is adorned with a golden lyre, a musical instrument with a beautiful, ethereal sound. On either side of the lyre, there are two koala bears, holding the neck of the lyre like they would a piece of bamboo. The overall effect is elegant and sophisticated. And adorable.

The second mask is white and gold, with a more simple, yet still elegant design. The base of the mask is made of shimmering white satin, and there are delicate gold filigree patterns etched into the surface. The mask is adorned with sparkling crystal-like stones, which seem to be forming a halo around the edges. The overall effect is like a crystal forest, with trees and branches of light and sparkle. This mask is more romantic than the other. 

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Adaline grins. “Don’t get attached,” 

You laugh at her words; a wild, curt sound that manages to surprise you. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’ll be sure to give this to Dieter, thank you.” 

You stand outside in the snow, huddled together with Dieter's parents and cousin. You are all dressed in your finest attire, with Dieter's mom wearing a lavish ball gown in a rich shade of red, and his dad looking dapper in a tailored black suit. You’re wearing the dress Adeline had gifted you, and while you’re not used to wearing such fancy clothing, you’re certainly not opposed to it. You feel good, which convinces you that you look good. 

The snow is falling gently around you, dusting the ground with a blanket of white. It is beautiful, yet also a bit eerie, with the flakes swirling in the air and the trees creaking in the wind. You shiver a little, despite your warm coat, and you wish that Dieter would hurry up. You smile as you click your tongue; always late, this one. 

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Dieter emerges from the house, looking resplendent in a long dress jacket that goes all the way to his knees. He’s wearing nice shoes and a white button-up shirt with a bowtie, but despite his polished appearance, his hair is still a mess— which you adore, especially when you remember how those soft locks felt between your fingers, while he was between your legs.

As he approaches, you can't help but feel your heart drop. Your lips part, a soft gasp making its way out in the form of warm steam. Dieter catches your gaze and gives you a small smile that makes you want to topple over and bury your head in the snow. You’re being burned from the inside out, the heat making you completely forget where you are. 

“Finally, we can go now,” Everett says, turning smoothly on one heel. 

You and Dieter both stand still under the snow, your gazes at each other calculating, assessing what to do next. His eyes move across your body, taking in every detail of your form. A violent shudder overcomes you. Then, without prompting, he offers you his arm.

“You look beautiful,” he says in one exhaled breath. 

“So do you.” 

The pair of you are suspended in time, your chests heaving breaths in unison. You see white snow decorating his hair and you lean forward to brush the cold away, before you can he touches your fingers and brings your hand to his mouth, lips brushing your skin. 

The moment is broken by the loud honk of the car. 

You and Dieter enter the luxurious cabin-like venue, and you are struck by its cozy, yet opulent atmosphere. The ballroom is spacious and bright, with walls made entirely of windows that offer breathtaking views of the snowy landscape outside. The decor is a blend of rustic charm and delicate lace, with plush white furnishings, floral patterns, and warm candlelight flickering about.

You look around and see that everyone is dressed in their finest attire. The men are handsome in tailored suits in shades of black and navy, while the women are gracefully adorned in elegant ball gowns of pastel pinks and blues, deep purples and reds, and other rich hues. Everyone with a matching elegant mask. Many of the gowns are adorned with intricate details, adding to the vintage, romantic atmosphere of the ball.

The music is provided by a live orchestra, which plays a harmonious blend of classical pieces and modern hits. As you and Dieter make your way to the bar, Adaline and Claus go to greet friends and Everett seems to be flirting with a charmingly dressed man with brown eyes and hair. 

Dieter offers you a glass of wine and you take it with gratitude, the two of you observing the crowd. 

“This is a bit more glamorous than I expected,” 

“It would be awkward wearing such fancy things if it wasn’t,” Dieter answers, leaning against the wall behind you. “This is why I don’t really like coming to these. They host it every year,” 

“Your mom forces you to come, huh?” 

“Exactly,” he says with a low chuckle, his eyes dropping down to his glass. “This year is a bit better though. I have you,” 

“Oh?” you coo, a smirk stretching across your face. “Are you saying you enjoy my company, Mr. Bravo?” 

“Always have,” 

As you stand with Dieter, watching the crowd dance and twirl before you, you feel a strange sensation wash over you. Your pinky extends towards him, almost of its own accord, and you feel his own pinky inch closer in response. The warmth of his skin seems to radiate through you, and you can't help but feel a sense of intimacy in this small, unspoken gesture.

You stand there, pinkies curled around each other, not acknowledging the moment but feeling a warmth at the tips of your fingers that spread throughout your bodies. The crowd swirls around you, a blur of color and movement, but all you can focus on is the quiet connection between you and Dieter. The music and laughter fade into the background as you stand there, little fingers entwined, feeling a deep and inexplicable bond with the man by your side. It's a moment that seems to stretch on forever, suspended in time, and you can't help but feel that everything else in the world has melted away, leaving only the two of you in this little bubble of intimacy.

Suddenly, Dieter asks you to dance with him, his voice breathy and heavy, his pupils dilated. You hesitate, feeling a sudden surge of panic. You're not a good dancer, you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat. But when you see his eyes locked to your from under the mask, you simply can't deny him.

"Come on," Dieter says, taking your hand and leading you toward the dance floor. "It'll be fun. I'll lead, you just follow my steps."

You follow him out onto the dance floor, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel awkward and out of place, but Dieter's hand on your waist is warm and reassuring. 

The music swells around you, a lively waltz that fills the ballroom with its energetic beat. You place your hand on Dieter's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his jacket, and he takes your other hand in his own, his grip strong and sure.

“So, I wanted to talk to you about something,” he says, voice barely audible due to the music. “Honestly, it’s kind of stupid but Everett got into my head with it and now I feel like if I don’t say something I’ll miss out on something great,” 

You begin to dance, following Dieter's lead as he guides you around the floor. The other couples swirl around you, a blur of color and movement, but you are focused solely on Dieter, on the way he moves with such grace and confidence.

“You can tell me,” you prompt, despite the fact you feel like you probably shouldn’t. Your mouth goes dry when he twirls you. 

“It’s…about us.” He’s breathless as he speaks. “I want— I think— Fuck, this is hard..I think we should maybe…try this out,” 

“What out?” 

“You, me…the devil’s tango?” 

“Are you trying to say that we should try being in a relationship?” you ask, bewildered. “No, we can’t. I—I don’t think that’s a good idea,” 

“Why not?” 

As the music crescendos, Dieter twirls you out and then pulls you back in, your skirts on the floor and your dress swirling around you. 

“Because,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath. “Because we work together. Everything is already so complicated, Dieter. This stops when we return home,” 

“Fine.” 

Dieter dips you low, your dress fanning out around you as you hold the pose. You look up at him but he’s not looking at you. To be honest, you’re surprised he doesn’t drop you. You know that his anger will pass eventually; it has to. You convince yourself that he’s just caught up in the moment—and the sex. And the kissing. You have no idea what Everett told him, but clearly this isn’t Dieter talking. 

The music fades away, and he brings you back up, pulling you close as the song ends. You stand there, panting, not knowing what to do. He’s still scowling. Then, out of no where, he takes your hand and drags you out of the ballroom.

You find yourself in the overly lit bathroom, and he locks the door. Your hands are braced against the marble of the sink, the mirror wide and crystal clear in front of you. Before you can say anything, you feel the flush of his body. Dieter traces your neck with his lips, tongue tasting the salt of your skin as his hands roam your body. 

“You just want to fuck, don’t you,” he murmurs, his voice eerily emotionless. “I can give you something to fuck. You want me to?” 

You see his reflection in the mirror, his lips hovering an inch away from your neck, eyes staring directly into yours. You swallow. You’ve never seen him like this before, the calm before the storm. Your legs are trembling. You’re highly aware of the fact that you need to say no. 

But your words betray you. 

Dieter consumes you as soon as you give him the okay. He doesn't bother removing the masks, using them as a way to shield what he's feeling. His hands push up your skirt, your ass in full display. He leans down and sinks his teeth into the meat, a growl rattling his throat as you hiss at the sting of his teeth. His tongue doesn’t soothe the pain; instead, he moves his mouth to the other cheek, giving it a similarly harsh bite. 

“Gonna fuck you nice and hard,” he grunts, tugging down your panties. “You’re never going to be satisfied after me. Fucking never.” 

His fingers move between your folds, a whimper falls from your lips. 

“Already wet,” he groans, teeth sinking into the skin between your neck and shoulder. “So, this is really what you want. Not much time to get laid when you’re working all the time, huh?” 

Oh god, you’re spiraling. Falling into the depths of his fear and loneliness. His words are coming from a place of pain and weirdly so, his mother’s words echo in your head. But for the life of you, you can’t tell him to stop and talk it out. He feels too good, too much, all at once, but still not enough. You’re his. That’s always been the case in a way, but he doesn’t know that. You can tell what he’s thinking, what he’s trying to convince himself of. It’s your fault. You never should’ve let everything come to this. 

The rough drag of his fingers is replaced with his cock. Your back arches, your head falling to his shoulder as he grinds himself against you, the head of his cock brushing against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure washing over you.

"D-Dieter- oh god," you gasp, your mouth filling with saliva. You swallow again and again, trying to form words that die on the tip of your tongue.

There's a sharp tug at your hair, forcing your face towards the mirror. You see Dieter's reflection, hauntingly beautiful, and it’s all you can think about. Your pussy throbs at the promise he makes, and as he keeps your head in place with one hand, the other sneaks up your torso and pulls down the front of your dress. Your breasts spill out from the edges, and he eagerly squeezes the flesh, his fingers pinching your nipples.

He pushes himself deep inside of you, the sound echoing within the bathroom. You moan at the sensation, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Dieter's hands are rough and possessive as he touches you, and you can’t help but respond to it. You're lost in pleasure, completely at his mercy. Your body sings for him, his name falling from your lips repeatedly. Tension coils inside you, your orgasm builds as he thrusts into you, harder and faster. 

He breathes heavily into your skin, kissing the back of your neck. 

And then, with a cry, you come, your body shaking as Dieter holds you close. It’s quick and sudden. Neither of your expecting for you to come so quick. You're panting and sweating. When you look at him through the reflection, he doesn’t look happy; it almost looks like you’ve proven something he’s always thought to be true. 

He pulls out — briefly, you see hunger crossing his face — and he moans, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist reaching your warm ears. You watch, entranced, as his eyes flutter close, his jaw tense. He bites into his bottom lips when he comes, the feeling of something warm and sticky splashing across the small of your back. 

Dieter opens his eyes and you meet his gaze through the mirror. 

“Dieter—” 

“Sorry,” he groans, quickly waving his hand underneath the paper towel dispenser. It feels like sandpaper against your skin. “I’ll go. You don’t need to say anything.” 

He throws the balled-up paper towel as he makes his way out. You feel empty — satisfied, but lost. You think whether or not you’ve done the right thing, it feels like you’re on the wrong path. 

And all you can think of Adaline’s words: 

I’m happy to see that he finally found someone who sees the brilliance in him as we do.

He’s a kind boy, probably a bit too kind for the world he lives in currently.

It’s good to see that he’s not completely alone.

I just wanted you to know that we trust you.

[tolkienfamilyweek]

Hello everyone!

This year we are back with Tolkien Family Week, an event dedicated to showing appreciation for familiar relationships in Tolkien's work - be it The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion or beyond.

Below is a list of non-mandatory prompts to take some inspiration from:

Day One Parent-child relationship - From Lúthien and Dior to Samwise and Elanor, on this day we encourage you to explore the relationships between mothers and fathers and sons and daughters!

Day Two Siblings - Tolkien presents us with many pairs of siblings throughout all the ages of Arda. This day is devoted to relationships between brothers and sisters, such as Fili and Kili or Galadriel and Finrod.

Day three Extended Family - Cousins, uncles, nieces, grandparents. Family trees goes beyond the traditional household members. Finwë with his numerous grandchildren, Théoden with Éomer and Éowyn - this day is dedicated to them.

Day Four Cut Ties - Families can break apart. Disagreements, rivalries, separation, death - their presence is a never-leaving shadow in Arda. One only has to look at the likes of Fëanor and Fingolfin.

Day Five Found Family - Families can break apart, yes, but at other times, they can also be in found in unlikely places. From kidnap fam to adopted distant cousins, this day is for exploring them.

Day Six Ancestors and their Legacy - Every family has its roots somewhere. On this day we look back to where the great families in Tolkien's works came from and what those ancestors left behind for their descendants.

Day Seven Freeform - Did we forget about something or is there a prompt you want to revisit? Feel free to use this day for any family related content!

The week will run during the last seven days of November 2023 - 20th to 26th - and will be hosted by @tilions and @armenelols. We will operate in a mixture of queued posts and direct reblogs.

Some minor clarifications:

Please tag @tolkienfamilyweek and put #tolkienfamilyweek in the first five tags of your post so that we can find it

Feel free to send us an ask should your post not be reblogged

OCs are welcome

All kind of content is appreciated - edits, art, writing, headcanons, analysis, let your imagination run wild

The ask box is open for any remaining questions!

We are looking forward to your creations!

[redriotinggg]

Ivankov's Drag Race

I watch a lot of RuPaul's Drag Race 'cause I love drag and reality TV and I'm queer as fuck. So here's the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written for day 4 of @sanusoweek, presented 100% on-time :P

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Welcome to season 12 of Ivankov's Drag Race; a reality show where a group of drag artists compete to snatch the crown and win a prize of $150,000!

JUDGES: Ivankov (Host & Main Judge), Bon Clay, and Inazuma. Every week they are joined by famous drag artists, fashion icons, musicians, and queer allies, who share their opinions and provide feedback.

COMPETITORS: Sanji, Usopp, Brook, Doll, Caesar Clown, Pudding, Chuu, Helmeppo, Izo, Bartolomeo, Buggy the Clown, Catarina, and Perona.

WEEK ONE: The first episodes of the season are a double premiere where the performers show off their talents, personalities, and personal styles. No eliminations.

WEEK TWO: This week the competitors are participating in a scripted acting challenge. As the top two performers during the talent show, Brook and Izo are appointed team captains and choose their teams.

Team Brook includes Sanji, Usopp, Pudding, Bartolomeo, and Perona. Team Izo has Buggy, Caesar, Helmeppo, Doll, Catarina, and Chuu. The winner of the week is Usopp!

The audience gets their first glimpse of the Sanji-Pudding-Usopp love triangle as both Usopp and Pudding bond with Sanji during the challenge.

Chuu and Doll are in the bottom and lip sync for their lives, ultimately resulting in Chuu being eliminated.

WEEK THREE: This week, the contestants are challenged to design and create a runway outfit that represents their drag persona. Sanji is stressed because he wears pretty looks, he doesn't sew them. He sidles over to his new friend Usopp and doesn't hesitate to flirt with him in hopes of getting some help creating his look. Usopp flirts back and is more than happy to provide some assistance. In the confessionals, Pudding reveals that she isn't happy that Sanji went to Usopp for help when her style is so much better than his.

Perona wins the challenge and Bartolomeo absolutely demolishes Helmeppo in the lip sync and sends him home.

WEEK FOUR: The contestants are split into teams to pitch a television show of their creation. (Sanji & Pudding, Buggy & Usopp, Izo & Catarina, Barto & Perona, and Doll, Brook, & Caesar).

Buggy and Usopp share a win after they deliver a hilarious performance. Doll and Caesar have a massive disagreement which affects their performance in the challenge and lands them in the bottom. Their argument in Untucked goes down in Drag Race herstory. Doll is sent home after lipsyncing against Caesar.

WEEK FIVE: This week is the much-anticipated girl group challenge! Sanji, Usopp, Barto, Perona, and Izo perform a high-energy pop number while Buggy, Brook, Catarina, Caesar, and Pudding dance to sultry, seductive choreo.

Sanji is this week's winner and after battling Buggy, Caesar is sent home.

WEEK SIX: In the second of the season's design challenge, the contestants must create a runway look worthy of royalty. Once again, Sanji finds his way over to Usopp for assistance and a round of flirting. A jealous Pudding comments that Sanji should ask for help from someone who actually has a good sense of style since Usopp's taste level has come into question in the past. Cue passive-aggressive comments from both of them throughout the rest of the episode.

Izo is this week's winner and Catarina is sent home after losing to Buggy in the lip sync.

WEEK SEVEN: At the halfway point of the competition, the girls do celebrity impersonations for the infamous Snatch Game challenge.

Usopp's amazing impersonations gain him another challenge win. There is a sweet moment between him and Sanji in Untucked when he encourages a stressed-out Sanji who landed in the bottom three.

Izo is sent home after an emotional lip sync with Sanji.

WEEK EIGHT: This week, the remaining competitors perform in a musical! As last week's winner, Usopp is given the power to assign roles, which doesn't bode well for Pudding, who has been planting seeds of doubt in the mind of an anxious Usopp.

Brook wins the challenge after his spectacular performance as the lead in the musical. Pudding wins against Perona in a lipsync that many fans think should've been a double shantay.

WEEK NINE: The competitors show off three runway looks for the Grand Line Ball! The first look is Marine Madness and the second is Pirate Couture, both brought from home. The third look, Devil Fruitiness, must be created in the workroom and to no one's surprise, Sanji is over by Usopp's workstation. He seems to have learned a lot from his lessons from Usopp though, so they spend their time laughing and flirting as they create their looks.

Pudding wins the challenge and Buggy wins his lipsync over Bartolomeo.

WEEK TEN: The top five queens give makeovers to young queers, putting them in drag and creating a family resemblance between them.

After getting negative critiques, Pudding has a bit of a breakdown in Untucked this week, taking her frustrations out on Usopp and resulting in a heated argument. Brook calms down Usopp and Sanji reels in Pudding.

Sanji wins his second challenge and Buggy is sent home after an intense lipsync against Pudding.

WEEK ELEVEN: In the last challenge before the finale, the remaining four competitors are prompted to write, record, and perform a verse to Ivankov's original song, Revolution.

Brook wins the challenge with one of the best verses and performances in Drag Race herstory. Usopp and Pudding land in the bottom and perform an iconic lipsync that ultimately sends Pudding home.

WEEK TWELVE: Before the finale, all of the competitors return for a reunion episode hosted by Ivankov going over all of the season's drama. Pudding is called out by Perona and Bartolomeo for being two-faced and treating Usopp poorly. Ivankov puts the spotlight on Sanji, who is in the middle of the drama between Pudding and Usopp. The Doll vs. Caesar altercation is also re-hashed and goes unresolved.

WEEK THIRTEEN: In front of a live audience, the top three competitors Sanji, Brook, and Usopp do a performance of their choice in a final bid for the crown, which ultimately goes to............ BROOK!!!!!!

---

To the delight of audiences everywhere, Sanji and Usopp enter into a romantic relationship after the show had finished filming (so by the time the season aired, they'd been dating for about a year!). The fanfiction that is written about them is insane and Sanji is begging Usopp to stop reading it, damn it! They have also resolved the issue between themselves and Pudding and are now very close friends.

Sanji and Usopp go on to star in several other reality shows, their popularity growing with each appearance they make. They become one of the most iconic couples in television history and go down as queer icons.

[the-temple-of-deified-heroes]

Κανόνες Ναού!

{Temple Rules - Greek; Credits to @The-Aesthetics-Shop for the Dividers <33}

Χαίρετε! This Post is dedicated to the Temple Rules, What I Can Expect From You All, And What You Can Expect From Me!

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The Temple Rules

Always Encourage & Invoke Xenia. Xenia is an Ancient Greek concept of Hospitality between the Host and the Guest, or two friends. This can mean a Guest brings with them gifts--physical or mental, in our case--while a Host provides them shelter from their journeys. To us, and this Temple, it means keeping to the line of peace, friendship, and provoking knowledge among our peers and respecting what we expect from you and keeping me, Neptune, to my duties as your host.

Take A Second To Calm Down & Step Back When Disagreements Start & Explaining Your Side Does Not Seem To Be Working. Look, I get it. I truly and utterly get feeling justified in your stance and wanting to explain to others your stance on something, but there's always that one point where trying to explain it further is just going to get everyone confused. When it gets to the point where it feels like you keep talking and talking and yet you're still not being heard, take a step back and encourage the others to take a recess for a little bit and then either return if needed or let it be. Everyone will be happier this way <33.

Please Do Not Bring Up Modern Political Events. It is not welcome here at our temple unless it is a warning of some sort of something dangerous happening that you need to spread awareness for. Do not bring any of it up because of your political views or for the sake of an argument--just present facts of danger and let the people that need to handle it, handle it. Otherwise, modern politics and events have no place here when "here" is meant to be a respite where you put up your coat and leave your mental burdens behind for just one space.

Explicitly Mention When Information You Are About To Give/Present May Be Faulty Or Is Not Fact-Checked. I do not mind in discussions when information is spread without specifically being fact-checked because it might be minor or you might be feeling lazy, but let us know that what you're saying might not be right so we don't spread it further or so we can fact-check it ourselves. This is one of my biggest things, again I do not mind it at all but please let us know so we can act accordingly. There's already enough misinformation/miscommunication on the internet out there, we don't need it in-house either <33.

--

What I Can Expect From You

A Friendly And Open Mind. There are many versions, rhetorics, origins, and interpretations of the Greek/Ancient Myths and so when others start speaking of a version differently from you, please respect that and perhaps even ask them how they knew this information and the sources they got it from. You don't have to change your own views/interpretations but it will at least tell you more information about The Myths and perhaps you can even judge the sources to see how credible you think that version is--perhaps it might even be enough to change how you see things.

Do Not Clutter Up This Space. "Clutter" can mean many things and the meaning absolutely changes between the person, but within this space, it means to not bring or maintain any negative energy, to keep your visit and stay here aligned with what you want to bring, and just to be respectful of the fact that this is a religious space and should be treated akin to the others', no matter how informal we may seem. [By "keeping your visit and staying aligned with what you want to bring," I basically mean to remember why you are here, among this space, and keep to that Honor and Respect you deem you should give it :)) {Feel free to ask more about this policy though :))]

To Interact As You Want To/Can. Again, I am merely a host for this Temple--I am solely here to participate among this Temple and to maintain its space like a cleaner--so this is a group effort to populate this Temple and fill it within the Honor and Sacredity it deserves. Please feel free to public celebrate Events, let us know important Calendar Dates, and just... participate! This is a public space, so use it as such! Celebrate as such!!!

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What You Can Expect From Me

I Will Always Do My Best To Maintain This Space. I will try to post my asks in timely manners; I will make sure to delete harmful posts/comments so it does not "clutter" up out space; I will reach out to others and trusted sources to make sure that I am being the best Host of this Temple I can be. I will be open to others about my long-term absences so you do not worry about me or this Temple's absence. I will reblog everything you guys ask of me to--such as tagging--and I will forever apologize for any mistakes I make.

When Approached With Difficult Situations Such As Banning Others Or Taking This Darkly Or Not-So-Nicely, I Will Always Approach Others For A Second Opinion. No ban, block, or backlash will ever go without asking others if I am reading the situation wrong. I will approach it diplomatically and I will ask openly because I know that I make mistakes, especially in tone. This also applies toward Discord, where I have the other Temple Hosts and/or Priestesses/Priests to talk to about situations :).

I Will Always Present Source Material/Facts When Asked. This is a personal point of pride for me--I love knowledge and presenting it to others and so being able to present facts from reputable sources will always make me happy. Knowledge makes me happy. And so, if you ask about the knowledge I have and where I got it--especially for the Myths and I what I talk about within Mythology--I will gladly present my sources to you. All you gotta do is ask :))

Similarly, I Will Always Ask For Clarification/Sources When Faced With Something I Do Not Know/Immediately Agree With Via My Own Knowledge. Again, I love learning and being able to learn more via others and what they know, but I also have a personal and "professional" duty to this Temple to know what type of information is being spread--if it is credible, incorrect, or nuanced. From there, I can interpret it either as exciting to add to my own knowledge, perhaps misinterpreted, or something to talk about among The People. But never once will I ever judge you for getting something wrong/reading it wrong/or anything else, I am merely asking for clarification so we're all on the same page. This request is also for the transparency of everyone else so they can figure out what they want to do with this new knowledge. It's never personal, just informative :).

I Will Forever Take Accountability Of Myself. I commonly use the phrase "feel free to kick or kill me if I'm overstepping," and I mean it. It's apart of my own morals to be able to take whatever backlash my actions deserve. Of course, I'm not aiming to have any backlash, but inevitable it will happen and if I can't take that, then that's on me, so feel free to shout at me or "kick or kill me" if there's something going on that you don't feel is right over here. I am willing and ready to learn. That is what this Temple's all about!

*As always, feel free to reach out for clarification or to ask if things seem unfair or you want me to add something! Πρέπει να φύγω! [Goodbye/Gotta Run!]

[youroriginalsublimecupcakestuff]

They're some unspoken rules if you want to survive in no longer human corporation either as a client or a worker.

Try to ignore dazai osamu if he flirt with you or try to convince you to do a double suicide with him, all complaint are to be sent to the Dazai Osamu damage control department.

All ex of dazai should not be given access to the buildings and should be personally relocated to the dazai osamu support group by secretary nakahara, head of accounting kunikida doppo is welcome in the meeting, the same could not be said about dazai.

A special fund should be reserved for any damage caused by secretary nakahara chuuya as well as akutagawa ryuunosuke and yosano Akiko.

The lawyer department should be well funded and be contacted should any problem arise especially if it's damage caused by the like of Yosano Akiko or head of science department kajii motojirou.

You should learn to ignore any stalking, i mean lovingly watching over them by higuchi ichiyo or tayama katai toward one of the akutagawa siblings, likewise the inapropriate behavior of the tanizaki siblings should be ignored for the sake of your sanity.

No one should get hurt in front of Yosano Akiko, the company health inspection should be avoided at all cost.

A fund should be allocated for head of research Edogawa Ranpo sweet craving, the room of the research department should be well furnished with various snacks everyday .

You should ignore the scolding by head of accounting kunikida doppo to CEO dazai Osamu when the later is skipping work or doing his usual shenaningan like edogawa ranpo's snack, kunikida doppo stationary should be well furnished a fund have been alocated to this pursharse.

a well trained group of clerc should be assured that kunikida doppo and nakahara chuuya came to their anger management class and do their meditation assignment , another have to be assigned to osamu dazai and akutagawa ryuunosuke as well as others worker who should go to therapy, a fund have been assigned for any mental scarring or others issue caused to the therapist.

Edgar Allan Poe as well of lucy maud Montgomery should be given access to the building, edgar allan poe in particuliar is given access to the research department, any concern with the company the guild should be adressed to them.

Cat are allowed and encouraged in the office, dog however are not much to secretary nakahara disagreement.

No one under any circumstance should flirt or confess to secretary nakahara for the sake of their financial and mental health.

Foods especially beef should be well stocked for intern miyazawa Kenji as well as sweet especially crepe for intern izumi kyouka and chasuke should be served in the company self service for intern nakajima atsushi as well as curry for oda sakunosuke ( warning as his curry is super spicy it's advised that no one else should touch it).

Co Head of the IT department who share this post with rokuzō taguchi , tayama katai should be allowed to work from home if need came to be, he's also allowed to come with his futon yoshiko in the office.

But what baffle the most anyone who heard or come accross the company isn't even the quirks of the workers but that the company still manage to make records profits in only a few years, it managed to be amongst the leading company in japan and worldwhile.

When the company started to be known others company tried to poach the workers especially kunikida doppo who seem to be done with dazai most of the time, the more shocking refusal was by dazai's hyper competent secretary nakahara chuuya, it's a well known fact that dazai and nakahara are rival and can't stand each others but no matter how much you will offer him he will refuse it .

Both founded the company together and are coined as soukoku in the business world a legendary duo but everyone found that it's best for the sake of your safety and braincell to not wonder about their relationship no one know if they're dating or try to murder each others ( everyone choose to ignore dazai talk about nakahara being his dog for life as well as nakahara virulent talk of hatred because you don't kiss someone that you hate seriously chuuya-san.)

One things is sure is that nakahara is either a miracle worker or have serious problem to be able to support and to be with someone like dazai.

[gendervapor14]

you there! do you like One Piece? do you like Rare-Pairs?

c'mere... come a little closer...

✨ i made a discord server!! ✨

Rare-Pear ~ a One Piece Rare-Pair Server!

after holding several different conversations across a variety of platforms, i decided maybe it was time to try and make my own server! rare-pairs hold a special place in my heart. they don't often get as much love as some of the more popular ships and tropes, which can leave the creators feeling awfully lonely.

SO! i sought to remedy that! 🥰 together, we can find other niche creations and creators and give them all the hype they deserve! there are channels for bouncing ideas around, sharing fics and art, and plenty of space for general discussion/analyses. we also have an ao3 collection to flaunt all the fruits of our labor! 🍐💕

i will post the detailed rules below the cut, but here's the tl:dr for anyone who's just doing a quick scroll:

writers, artists, and casual consumers are all welcome!

focus on pairings with <100 stories on ao3 using otp:true

must be 20+ to join

no anti/proship discourse

roles to opt in/out of nsfw or dark content

rules and link to join beneath the cut! if/when the link expires, feel free to shoot me a DM or reply and i'll gladly refresh the link 🥰

RULES

this server was created to offer a place for those who enjoy rare pairs in the One Piece fandom. for the sake of this server, a rare pair is defined as a pairing who has less than 100 works on ao3 using "otp:true". (romantic or platonic!) but don’t panic! if your OTP (or one of them) has more than 100 works, that’s okay! you are still welcome here! just be sure to encourage those who are creating for and/or celebrating smaller pairings.

you must be 20+ years old to join this server.

respect is vital. any form of hate speech or bigotry will not be tolerated. if a ship, story, or trope is not your cup of tea, don’t drink it! disagreements are inevitable, but the nature of this server is to support one another, so please be respectful if ideas collide. different interpretations should be encouraged!

no anti/proship discourse.

no underage content.

no AI-generated content.

dark/sensitive works and discussions are to be posted in the “bruised fruits” category so people can easily mute these channels. this includes subjects that may involve non-con, dub-con, incest, gore, suicide, self-harm, eating disorders, and animal abuse. if you encounter an additional subject you’d like to be filtered into this channel, do not hesitate to reach out to a mod.

other nsfw works and discussions should be posted in the “spicy fruits” category so people can easily mute these channels. this includes subjects that may involve nudity or sex. if you encounter an additional subject you’d like to be filtered into this channel, do not hesitate to reach out to a mod.

fanart shared in dark/nsfw channels should still be covered with a spoiler tag and explicitly labeled to ensure maximum comfort for all individuals.

be mindful of the content you consume. do not harass any individuals or creations under any circumstances. a mod will step in if there is a violation of the rules.

this server is focused on rare pairs in the One Piece fandom, but other fandom discourse is welcome, and belongs in the appropriate “#other fruits” channel. feel free to make a thread for your fandom as well, if you find others who share an interest in it!

feel free to create your own threads! whether it be a thread for your pairing, or a thread for your current wip. just be sure to create your thread in the appropriate category/channel.

try to keep conversations relevant per channel. each category has their own channels for general discussion/analyses. off-topic conversations are encouraged in the “#general chat” channel in the “picnic table” category.

you are encouraged to post fanfiction/fanart, but be sure to do so in the correct fanfiction/fanart channels. when posting fic recs or others’ artwork, be sure to include the link to credit the original artist.

any additional questions or concerns can be brought to the “#questions/suggestions” channel under the “welcome!” category, or discussed via DM with a mod :)

hope to see you there! 🍐♥