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heavenlyraindrops · 9 months ago

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☆ “ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ.” | ᴋᴇɴᴊɪ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ☆

☆ She said “fuck me like I’m famous”| Chapter one

☆ Warnings: fem!reader, afab!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, awkward!reader, reader is literally a hermit, no established relationship, not proofread, porn with like a drop of plot, they get slightly awkward after doing it but it’s ok <3 ☆ Word Count: 3.3k | Available on Tumblr & AO3

“Out? For dinner?”

You tore your eyes from your phone to look at Ami, who was watching Chiho roll around on the floor, immersed in whichever new game of pretend she had devised.

“Yes, dinner,” she repeated, then turned to look at you. “I’m meeting a… friend. Not a close one, but a friend nonetheless. And it would do you some good to meet new people, and to get out more.” She raked her eyes over you, from your baggy clothes to messy updo.

“What’s that meant to mean? I get out plenty often. I’m out right now with you, aren’t I?”

“‘Chilling out’ at my house twice every week isn’t exactly going out, [name],” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she stood up, stepping towards the kitchen. “You’re like a hermit.”

You furrowed your brows together. “Maybe that’s how I like it.”

You heard water trickling as it filled up her glass, and her voice drift down towards where you were sitting. “I tend to wonder if I’m your only friend.”

At those words you stiffened, eyes opening wide and shooting up, back straight. “What? Friends?” You spluttered. “I have friends. I have plenty of friends. You’re not my only friend.” The words tumbled out of you hastily, and then you paused, flashing her a charming smile, trying to distract her. “You’re just my favourite one!”

She rolled her eyes as she sat back down. “Well, you have awful taste.” She handed you a drinks can. Your favourite.

“Hardly,” you uttered

“Just- you focus on work too much, okay? You need to find balance.” She took your palm, uncurling your fingers and placing the cold can in your hand. “Just come to this dinner.”

“…Fine.” You dug your finger under the tab, trying to get it open. “Who even is this friend, anyways?”

“Kenji Sato.”

You stared at her.

She must have mistaken your silence and blank stare for shock, or stupor instead of a reaction to what you considered to be an underwhelming statement, because she just sat back, letting her words sink in. They did, not that they meant much to you.

“Who?” You said blankly.

She blinked, then leaned forward. “Uh, Ken Sato? The really famous baseball player?”

You took a slow sip of the drink- the carbonation danced on your tongue. “No idea who that is. I don’t follow baseball.”

“You don’t follow anything,” she pointed out. “You’re completely out of the loop.”

You threw your hands in the air, exasperated. “Just- look, is he someone I should be impressed with? Like, am I-“

“I’ve mentioned him once,” Ami cut in. “Played in the States, moved to Japan suddenly? I was wondering why, and mentioned it to you?” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless you weren’t listening.”

“No no, I was,” you said quickly, then frowned, furrowing your brow. “Wait, didn’t you interrogate him, once? Twice?”

“Thrice,” she corrected you. “And it's called an interview, not an interrogation.”

“Same thing,” you said indignantly, with another gulp of ice cold carbonated sugar. “And you’re sure he’s just a friend.” You eyed her, testing her for any telltale signs on her face suggesting otherwise.

She simply stared at you, unimpressed. “Yes.”

“Okay,” you said, stretching out the vowel, rolling it along your tongue. You stopped. “Okay, fine, I’ll come to your dinner thing.”

“Yes!” She said, sounding a bit too relieved. You stared at her. “Sorry, it’s just- I’m so glad you’re finally-“ she cut off with an excited, pleased noise.

You looked at her, concern for yourself creeping into your expression. “Am I really that-“

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Now, please put some effort into your appearance tomorrow night-“

“Tomorrow night?”

“Yes, do you have plans?” She didn’t wait for an answer, because she already knew it. “No? Thought so. Please put some effort into your appearance tomorrow night, because it’ll be worth it.”

“Uh huh,” you said slowly.

“I wonder if you even remember how to behave in a social setting,” she mused, and you smacked her shoulder.

That night when you got home and flopped down on your bed, pulling out your phone, your finger hovered over the search bar.

What was his name?

Kenji Sato.

You were typing in the words before you even realized it, and seeing the images, you froze.

Oh.

Shoving down any sort of deranged thoughts that could have been formulating in your head, you buried your face into your pillow and tried to fall asleep.

“[name]!”

“Ami!” You stuttered. Ami came towards you, eyes lighting up as she took in your appearance.

“You look really different,” she said, taking in your appearance. “Really pretty.”

You didn’t often wear clothes that were form-fitting or flattered your figure, but you’d decided that since it was a dinner with basically a celebrity, you might as well have put in some extra effort into your looks.

“Thanks,” you said, as she led you through the restaurant doors and to your table. Pausing, she turned to look at you.

“You look sick,” she frowned. “And nervous.” She clicked her tongue. “Maybe this really was a bad idea. I should have know you can’t handle-“

“No!” You almost burst out. “No, I mean, I can do this. It’s not that big a deal. I’m just meeting a new person, right?”

She nodded hesitantly, still frowning at you.

“Right. So, not a big de-“

“Hey, Ami.”

You froze, shoulders stiffening.

“Kenji.” Ami turned to him. You still hadn’t looked at him yet, eyes fixed desperately on Ami’s face. “This is [name]. Name, this is-“

“Ken Sato.” He held out his hand to you, to shake. You stared at his long fingers, then slowly looked up to his face. He was wearing this easy, charming grin. Your knees almost buckled. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

You grabbed his hand and shook it. “N-nice to meet you.” You both held your stare a few seconds longer than you needed to.

He raised a dark brow, and you could have sworn his expression had flickered with amusement before he turned back to Ami. “And here I was worried I was late.” He waved you both on towards the table, where you took your seats.

Ami was looking at you, frowning. You gave her a wobbly smile back.

Oh, fuck this.

“So, what did you say you work as, [name]?”

Kenji’s voice snapped you out of your haze, and you looked up at him, eyes widening. “Oh, I’m an, uh, I’m an author.” You stared hard at your food, then looked back up at him to gauge his reaction.

He just leaned back against his chair. “Cool.” His eyes were set on yours. You flushed. “What sort of stuff do you write?”

“Uh,” your eyes slid to Ami, who was looking at you expectantly. “Romance, mostly.” The confession made your cheeks burn but you were too much of a mess to lie smoothly, not that it had even occurred to you in the first place- and Ami would have teased you about it later.

But Kenji just formed a small ‘o’ with his mouth, then smirked. “That’s cute.”

“Is it?” You had to fight to not make your voice sound like a squeak. He just nodded, taking a bite of his food like it was nothing.

He’d said it so casually that Ami hadn’t even noticed, instead pouring herself more of her drink and commenting on how Kenji had healed up. You blinked, confused, and turned as he held his arm out, flexing it.

“Yeah, quicker than I thought,” he said. You could see the faint outline of his muscles through the fabric and were so prepared to just jump out the window, then and there. He must have caught you staring because, without turning his head, he locked eyes with you and fucking winked.

You bit your lip, rubbing your thighs together and trying to ignore every instinct in your body screaming at you to throw yourself across the table. “You got hurt?”

He dropped his arm back to his side, rolling his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s fine now though.”

You didn’t press any farther, just eating your food in flushed silence, trying to ignore the burning you could feel in between your thighs.

“How’d you get here, [name]?” Ami asked. You stared desperately at your phone screen.

“Cab,” you muttered, rubbing your hand on the back of your neck. The app was empty. “But there aren’t any available.”

You checked the time. Half past eleven. You shivered, the night air biting at your skin. Ami looked at you, concerned. “Should I drop you?”

“No. No.” Guilt ate away at your gut. “No, you need to get home to Chiho, and I’m in the completely opposite direction- it’s not worth it.” You stepped back, and you could feel Kenji look over your shoulder at your screen. He leaned down to your level, breath warm on your ear. You shivered again, but not from the cold. “I’ll just wait until something shows up.”

“What’s your address?” He tilted his face slightly towards you, before pulling away. You stared at him, then frowned at him slightly, opening your mouth to reply, but Ami cut in.

“Look, I-“ she glanced at her watch. “I really need to go.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, [name].”

You waved her off. “Don’t be.”

And she was gone, her car rolling off. You looked back at Kenji, and quickly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, mumbling your address.

He tapped something into his phone, and his face twisted into a satisfactory grin. “It’s on the way to mine. So I’ll just drop you.” He started walking down the street.

You stumbled after him. “Oh- are you- are you sure?”

He turned, walking backwards, in the same direction but facing you know as he shrugged, grinning. “Why not? Better than waiting around in the cold for a ride.”

“R-right.”

He led you to where a motorbike was parked, and you blinked. “You rode here on a motorcycle?”

He shrugged his blue biker’s jacket off, and without warning, draped it over your shoulders. “Yeah. Surprised?”

“I… don’t know.” Your face was burning at the action. “Are you sure…” you fiddled with the hem of his jacket.

He waved his hand at it dismissively. “Take it. You look cold.”

You fell silent. Then: “I don’t have a helmet.”

He reached into a compartment, pulling one out. “Spare. For situations like this, I guess. Comes in handy.”

“Situations like this?” You echoed, as he stepped towards you, setting the helmet down over your head and fastening it tight. Your heart was going a million miles a minute.

“When I have to make sure a pretty girl like you gets home, obviously,” he said casually, but the look on his face betrayed his nonchalant tone. He clambered onto the bike. “Come on, then. Get on.”

You blinked, face burning even harder than before, but did as he told you to.

“Thanks. For taking me home, I mean.”

He looked up at you as you pulled the helmet off your head, imitating the action himself. A strand of hair fell in front of his forehead. “Don’t think about it,” he shrugged, and your grip on the helmet tightened as you clutched it to your chest.

“Oh, but I will.” You dropped your voice to a husky whisper, and watched his jaw clench. Oh thank you god, I remember how to flirt. Kind of.

Now it was his turn to become flustered, as he gave you another grin, shaky this time. “Really?” He asked, voice hoarse. You stepped back, towards your house.

“You should come inside,” you suggested. “It’s not that late.”

He raised his eyebrow. “It’s almost midnight,” he laughed, but didn’t object to your offering, licking his lips nervously. You paused your walk up towards your front door, turning and looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, fuck this,” he muttered, abandoning the bike and walking towards you. Your stomach exploded into a flurry of butterflies as you both hurried towards your front door.

You bit back a whimper as his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with a hunger you hadn’t been met with before. The door hadn’t even shut before his hands were on your waist, dragging you close to him- and then it was, and he pinned you against it, your back pressing into the ridges of the wood.

He pulled away, both of your breathing ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours, eye contact unwavering. He cursed under his breath. “Sorry- I should have- I should have asked.”

You were barely able to move your mouth, shaking your head lightly. “It’s fine,” you breathed, and his eyes flicked back down to your lips, grip on your waist tightening. “You didn’t have to.”

“God, you’re-“ he choked on his own words. “You’re pretty.”

You didn’t have time to respond before his mouth was capturing yours again, heat burning all over as one of his hands wandered to grip your nape, holding you steady. His teeth grazed your lip and you gasped, but he pulled away, pressing kisses all the way down your jaw and collarbone, leaving a trail of blooming bruises in his wake. His other hand fell from your waist to hip, pressing you close up against him, and heat pooled in your core.

“Ken,” you managed to whisper weakly through the dizzying haze clouding your mind. He paused, teeth pressed against your skin, and he leaned back up to you, ghosting his lips over the shell of your ear, humming. “Are you sure this is a g-good idea?” Your voice was shaking. He frowned, pulling away, and his fingers dug into your hips.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” His voice was husky with desire, eyes trained on your every movement. You could feel his breath on your skin. You opened your mouth, searching for a reason, but couldn’t find any. He trailed his fingers down your neck, brushing over the marks, to the collar of your top, tugging at it. “Come on.”

You stumbled after him, shedding the jacket, ignoring it as it fell to the floor, and he pulled you down onto the couch with him, hands on your waist. You fell into his lap, straddling him. He grinned. “Still can’t find a reason?”

“…No.”

“Then just relax,” he told you, lips still pressed against your jaw, fingers creeping beneath the hem of your top. “Because I’m about to make you feel really good.”

At his words you bit back a moan, sucking in a harsh breath as you bit your lip, involuntarily rolling your hips against him. He hissed, tipping his head back. You were certain his hands were going to leave marks everywhere they touched, feeling them dig into your hips as you dove onto his neck, suckling and biting, anything to repay the affection he’d shown you earlier.

His hand fisted your hair, gently but firmly tugging you back and away. “Stop it,” he hissed. “Just let me do my thing, okay?”

You looked at him, confused, and slightly hurt, until he quickly pressed a reassuring kiss to your lips. “I said I’d make you feel good, so just sit back and let me, got it?”

You didn’t argue with him, not when he flipped you around so that your back was pressed against the couch, or when he sank to his knees, pushing your legs open, letting out a shaky breath as your skirt hiked right up your thighs.

He let out a breathless laugh. “You’re wet,” he teased, his hot breath hitting your skin. He pressed a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, making you shiver, then another, each one lasting longer before the one before, leaving marks littering all over your inner thighs. You bit your lip- the mere sight of his face in between your legs was enough to get you dripping, even more than you were before, and he seemed to notice, because he let out an amused chuckle.

“Wh-what?” Your voice was broken, and hitched when he pressed his thumb to your clothed clit, sending a jolt of pleasure into your cunt. He smirked at your reaction.

“Nothing,” he murmured, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your soaked panties, tugging them slowly down your legs. Your teeth pressed down on your bottom lip harder. His eyes flicked up to meet your expression. “What? Nervous?”

You didn’t reply, just shaking, and he let out a slow breath, pressing his lips back against your inner thigh as his expression softened. “Don’t be, baby.” His lips curled back into his signature grin. “I told you you could relax, remember?”

You flushed, and nodded.

Without warning, he dove in, lips pressing down on your clit. You whimpered, not even enough time to react before his tongue licked a long strip up your entrance, making you twitch and spasm, throbbing pleasure aching. Your legs instinctively pulled together but he forced them back apart, tongue tracing slow patterns across your bundle of nerves, eyes hooded with lust as he watched your flinch and gasp.

You let out a broken whimper of his name, and felt him tense under you- but he didn’t stop his movements, slipping his tongue in between your folds, stretching you out with his fingers. You bucked your hips, but he grabbed your hip with his other hand, pinning you down to keep you from moving. “Shhh,” he whispered, his low voice sending vibrations into your core. You let out a desperate moan- it took everything in you to not desperately start grinding against his face. He chuckled slightly at your pitiful state, turning his attention back to your dripping cunt, slipping a finger inside. Your back arched, hand flying to your mouth to clamp over it. A finger slipped inside, curling to hit that sweet spot- you almost saw stars.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, screwing your eyes shut. “I think I’m gonna cum-“

He simply hummed at your words, the vibrations of his voice sending another shockwave through you, lapping at you like he was hungrier than before, fingers pumping in and out at a steady pace. You knew what he was saying.

Go on. Cum.

And you did, a broken cry of his name slipping past your lips as the orgasm crashed over you, legs shaking as he drew out your high for as long as possible. And when you finally came down he pushed himself up, towards you, capturing your lips in another feverish kiss.

You could see the shaky movements of his chest as he breathed heavily, feel his boner pressed up against you, his face flushed and burning to the touch. You pulled away.

“Are you… shoud I…” You reached for his zipper, despite the fact your voice was heavy with fatigue but he just shook his head, laughing breathlessly.

“No, no, I… don’t worry about me.” He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I’ll just- where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the corridor, first door on the left,” you mumbled, slumping back. He stood up, adjusting your head on the couch.

“Okay, I’ll- I’ll be right back.”

You heard his footsteps hurry away and the door shut.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed, with you laying on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness, when you heard his footsteps approach you again. You looked up at him drowsily.

“Hey.” Your voice was barely audible. “You should stay here for the night.”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t object, even when you waved him over to lay next to you. You settled on top of him, laying your head on his chest. His arm looped around your waist.

“[name],” he muttered. You lifted your head. “Is this just a… one time thing?”

You tilted your head. “Do you want it to be?”

He frowned, then shook his head. “No. No, I don’t.”

You smiled. “Me neither.”

☆ A/N: visit either the first tag or the pinned post to find the other chapters!

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toruforuu · 14 days ago

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gojo satoru x reader || hogwarts au (18+)

wonderwall ch.1 dusk of intrigues

✼pairing: hogwarts au - slytherin!gojo x ravenclaw!reader

✼summary: gojo satoru, the golden boy of a famous family lineage of wizards sets his sights on you, a half blood defying his pureblood morals. he makes it a goal in his life to make yours a living hell. years of endless pestering, teasing and rivalry stretching out. as times goes on, he finds himself thinking about you more than he isn’t. he grows torn between his family’s beliefs and the forbidden ache tickling his chest whenever he sees you

✼meaning: wonderwall - the person you cannot stop thinking about (song by oasis)

✼genre/tags: hogwarts au, female reader, strangers to enemies/sort of academic rivals to forbidden lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut, pining and yearnin (mostly gojo), built up tension, teasing, bickering and pestering, jealousy, slightly spoiled gojo, obsessed and lovesick gojo, both are pretty oblivious to their feelings

✼warnings: discrimination, death, grief, shitty parents, light bullying, mentions of hook ups, sexual topics, family pressure and trauma, mentions of injuries and violence, degradation

✼word count: 3.7K

✼chapter: 1/?

a/n: hii! thank you so much for deciding to read my writing, it means a lot. hopefully you’ll enjoy what lies ahead and it does not suck. i finally finished the first chapter. might have spent the whole Sunday trying to figure out how shit works here on tumblr instead of studying for my upcoming exams, yikes. i am cooked, but at least this is finished haha. enjoy!

based on this // next chapter

˚⟡˖ ࣪:link to playlist

˚⟡˖ ࣪:link to vision-board

When a letter came into the mail with your name etched onto it, you immediately knew what it was.

Magic was no mystery to you regardless of the fact that your father was a mere human.

You were so thrilled when you got your fingers on the letter, rushing towards your mother without a second thought. Running through the house like lightning bolt. You tugged at her skirts, all needy as you waved the letter in the air.

Her eyes beamed with something that went unnoticed by the young version of you. Your mother was well aware of the risks which came along with marrying a human as a witch. She didn’t mind the whispers at work from those noble ranked wizards nor she regretted any of it.

Because of the love which had blossomed from her decision over the years.

Because she go to have you in the end, completing your little family.

There was a one thing that made her slightly anxious though. The thought of her sweet little girl never getting the experience at Hogwarts brought her uneasiness, however, it wasn’t anything she sought after desperately. She did her best to not worry you nor herself, simply letting it play out as it was supposed to.

Yet when she saw you clinging to the letter, her original unease dissolved into nothingness as her excitement grew at the sight of you. She was just as excited as you. Perhaps a tad more than that.

Your regular school was finished in a flash. Summer was in full bloom, hotter than the last one you remembered.

You did feel a bit saddened by the thought of leaving your friends behind and lying to them about moving schools, yet the image of your future was what kept you going without looking back too often.

You felt your life was on the verge of undeniable change. You felt it then, even as a child.

You spent the whole summer break wondering and pondering on your lawn, running in the backyard. Occasionally slipping into the streets to play with your neighbours as the humid weather shined down on you.

Before you could grasp it, your mother proudly took you into Diagon Alley as it was already time for shopping. You two had made a list together, containing all the things which were mandatory to bring or simply would make your time at Hogwarts a little easier. As you swam through each shop, ticking off all your essentials, your mother filled you on her years in school. Something she never truly did before, maybe because she didn’t want to build your hopes up. Just in case the letter for you wouldn’t come. She described them as the best time of her life, which made you all jumpy from giddiness as she went on, telling you all sorts of funny stories and things you were longing to be part of. The mere thought of following your mother’s footsteps got you convinced you were also born to be a Ravenclaw. You had to be.

Soon enough you found yourself standing on the train platform, orbs taking in the sweet image of your mother. The tears prickling in the corners of her eyes were impossible to not acknowledge, however, you didn’t dare to comment on them. Afraid you would start crying too so instead you hugged your mother tightly before you bid each other a goodbye with the sole promise of writing each other letters if needed.

Without looking over your shoulder you stepped into the train as the tears found its way out anyway, anxiety was eating at you as you realised you are now among children who are also aware of the wizard world.

It’s not a secret you have to keep anymore and for a second you can’t wrap your silly little head around the fact that all you ever dreamt of is starting already, layed out in front of you.

You pushed through the crowd of bodies, doing your best to seem approachable, smiling at everyone regardless of the gnarling fear in the pit of your stomach.

Seconds later you slipped into one of the cabins in the train which is fully empty, taking the seat closest to the window, because all you were aching to do is to see your mother one more time before you leave.

And you did, both of you were frantically waving at each other. Her sending you kisses, cheeks stained by the salty aftermath of motherhood.

The door sleeked open and your head tilted towards it instantly. You were met with eyes painted the softest shade of blue, they almost looked celestial as they stared back at you. And that doesn’t even begin to cover it, the orbs stood out on the fair canvas of pale skin belonging to the boy standing in the entrance of the cabin. His locks were the colour of crestfallen snow, the purest strands of white your eyes were ever blessed with. You most definitely haven’t seen anyone as captivating as him before in your life. He was angelic even before then.

And of course you knew who he was.

A Gojo.

Who didn’t?

You might have not known his name yet, but it was still utterly clear he had to be a part of the Gojo family. Every wizard, even some lucky muggles, knew who the Gojo family was. Or rather they could point out their striking features in any sort of crowd as it was nearly impossible to overlook them.

It is one of the most eligible families of the wizard world. Not exactly for a flattering reason though, their respect is earned by their old fashioned and brutal ways. Their history reflects their deepest secrets and darkest intentions. They had a habit of following those who were marked as evil by any sane person. Perhaps they still fall back to that habit. Old habits die screaming after all.

Their never ending fortune plays a certain role as well.

He for sure looked like he came straight out of a royal meeting. His hair well kept, only few disobedient strands of hair poking out. Features looking as if they were sharpened and his choice of clothes only added points to the unbreakable imagine of his character.

What you didn’t know back then is the fact your mothers once used to be particularly good friends at Hogwarts. Roommates. As life goes, their friendship crumbled the second your mother married a muggle. Your father. Her best friend was not able to withstand the blow and put her hatred aside. Not even for her dearest friend.

You blinked at the radiant boy, opening your mouth to say a simple greeting since you didn’t want to judge him immediately.

But, God, your blood boiled the second he shot you a simple dismissive glance and scoffed before sitting down on the other side of the cabin without even acknowledging your presence any further.

He scoffed.

From that second a seed of years full of never ending pestering and teasing was planted into the soil.

Luckily, that day was also the day you met your ride or die. Your best friend called Arabella who was the last one to join the cabin of the train, sitting right beside you. Call it a coincidence or fate, whatever.

She spent the whole time talking, telling you how she almost didn’t make it to the train on time due to her father who overslept. You couldn’t help but laugh as you listened attentively.

Gojo Satoru was the complete opposite when it came to attending Hogwarts. From the moment he was born, it was known he would be a wizard since he came from a pureblood lineage of the best amongst the greats.

He wasn’t nearly as excited to start as you were. He wasn’t on the edge of bouncing off the walls from joy, he was rather stressed. Stressed as much as a young boy can be. He had a role to play. An image to keep. A need to make place for himself in order to feel validated by his family which was eagerly sending him off after filling him with their poison for years.

Satoru might have been young, nonetheless he was aware of the burden weighing down on his shoulders.

The old fashioned ways of purebloods seeped into young Satoru’s mind as he grew up in the highest ranks of the wizard society, surrounded by people who shared his family’s views. So taking their morals as his was something inevitable.

When he saw you that day in the train cabin as you were waving to your mother, he felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. His parents were probably already off to leave the transport. He felt envious of a stranger.

The way your coloured orbs lingered on him didn’t go unnoticed by him either. It wasn’t anything new to the boy, he understood you recognised him the second your eyes fell on his frame. He got pretty used to it over the years. People gawking at him, asking him stupid questions.

He recognised you too. Not for your features nor your family’s history. You were a nobody in the wizard world.

Well, not exactly.

Satoru put the dots together as his eyes landed on you. Your face was somewhat familiar.

He definitely saw it a couple of times in The Daily Prophet since your mother worked at the ministry, department of magic.

Unlike you, Satoru Gojo had a sense of the history between his mother and yours. For a simple reason, their friendship was an example of sacrifice for the greater good of their morals.

At least in his mother’s eyes.

He didn’t mean to scoff at first when you greeted him, it came naturally so he left it at that. He couldn’t be bothered to correct himself, to give in that effort.

To be fair, he found you quite amusing after a while of silence hanging between you. There was something alluring about you that he couldn’t quite put into words, couldn’t explain it no matter how hard he tried. No matter how clever he was.

Looking back it now, he wouldn’t be able to do it even today.

He can recall the moment when he captured you sitting pressed against the window waving a goodbye to your mother so vividly despite the fact it has been years. The day was chaos itself, yet the thought of you in there seems to be steady.

He watched you from the corner of his eyes the whole ride while you chatted up with a strawberry blond girl, the conversation you two were having slurred together as the years wore off.

He himself made friends on the way to Hogwarts as well, the children were basically at his feet the second they took him into their sights. Satoru Gojo recognised most of the children already as he was paraded to society from an early age.

The ride was buzzing, laughter and chatter wild. Older students passing by the cabins, gazing over the new arrivals with curious eyes.

Similar was the way to the actual castle, the atmosphere was filled with excitement bursting through most of the first years who were wondering in which house they would spend their time. The sun was beginning to set in the background, giving the situation a glow which continues to shine like gold in memory.

You kept silently praying for it to be Ravenclaw as the boat dangled on the surface of the Great Lake enveloping Hogwarts.

It quickly vanished from your mind as your gaze captured the beauty of the castle sitting on the hill. Sighs of amused woah’s and aw’s filling the air.

The nerves got you frozen into the ground as you stood in the queue. The Great Hall overwhelming with the bustling of people, slight anticipation hanging in the air as everyone else waited to see who would be the new people joining their houses.

Satoru Gojo went up to the sorting hat before you did, being one of the first ones to be called upon. The hat hummed in deep thought when it was placed on his artic locks. It didn’t take long, handful of seconds.

“Slytherin!” The hat called out throughout the whole hall, cheers erupting from the Slytherin’s table as Satoru snugly smirked. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone in the room, the Gojo’s have a legacy and there wasn’t a single one who didn’t belong to the house of Slytherin, in the last century at least.

You got lost in thought and didn’t notice your name being called, which caused the other first years behind you to chuckle and nudge your shoulder which jerked you back to the reality. Your cheeks flushed with a light blush as you made your way up, sitting down carefully. You could hear your own heart pounding in your chest so hard the blood ringed in your ears.

Admits all that, you certainly didn’t notice the gaze of Satoru Gojo lingering in anticipation as everyone waited for the sorting hat to decide on which house to send you in.

You were too preoccupied, your eyes fluttered shut as you swallowed the dry lump in your throat. Awaiting the decision.

For a second you thought it might have been a dream when the sorting hat mumbled out the word Ravenclaw.

You fluttered your eyes open, the crowd already in cheers and the hat being taken off hour head. Your chest felt significantly lighter when you stepped down to the stairs and happily hurried to the Ravenclaw’s table to sit. In the meantime, the godly like piercing blue eyes burned two holes in your back. A small part of Satoru hoped you would get to share a house, just to find out what was that alluring energy you were surrounded by.

So it felt only natural to feel a pinch of disappointment. You weren’t a Gryffindor so he didn’t mind much, that’s what he thought.

It quickly became clear the two of wouldn’t be considered anything close to the word friends.

Satoru Gojo did not bother to acknowledge you in the first few months, your existence falling into the abyss of the past. You did not bump into each other often. Your classes were seperated.

You too had forgotten about the interaction on the train as time went on. You were living your fantasy, your inner desires becoming reality.

You were so blinded by the image of Hogwarts you painted in your mind that it came as a low blow when you finally realised it wasn’t all that you hoped for. It wasn’t a total disaster, however, once the magic of the arrival evaporated it started to feel like a regular school. That wasn’t the issue, you thrived for knowledge and learning, but your mother portrayed it as a fairytale. Soon you came to a realisation her memories were in a haze of nostalgia, full of yearning which caused her to slightly over exaggerate.

You weren’t lonely, no, you had made couple of peers along the way. Hell, you even ended up sharing a dorm room with the strawberry blonde girl you met on the train, lightening each other’s rough start.

You missed your parents badly though. The life you left behind for this felt suddenly like a sore wound. You wrote letters home, usually twice a week. Your mother would respond to each one despite her work circumstances. Her words filled with fondness kept you from succumbing to the solitude you grew to feel over the first few months.

If you would look back at it now, you probably wouldn’t recall much of it. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred, it simply felt hard to function in a completely new environment and this feeling caused almost the entirety of the year to blur together.

Acing the exams, learning how to understand the rules of quidditch by which you were mesmerised. Spending your free evenings in the common room, eating in the Great hall. Learning to how to fly your own broomstick. Bonding with Arabella over your shared interests.

By the time spring came to bloom a new beginning, your sorrows were left in the cold winter.

And that’s when your world collided into yet another problem.

One you wouldn’t get rid of so easily.

Satoru Gojo was pleasantly surprised to find out his place at Hogwarts wasn’t something he had to earn, it was already served to him on a silver platter. He expected to loathe each passing second at the school. Instead of that he found himself enjoying being away from his suffocating parents, fooling around with the featherlight friends which tagged by his side since he stepped his feet onto the ground of house Slytherin.

He was a dazzling young wizard, everything came to him without efforts. His grades more than decent to begin with. He became the fastest first year at flying, surpassing some quidditch players with ease.

By the time your first year was almost over, everyone learnt to know who Satoru Gojo was and that it was better to stay on his good side. No one wanted to mess with him, no one dared to step up against him as fear was quickly spread and so were the rumours.

He didn’t mind either of it, he bathed in it.

He actually welcomed such an imagine, not bothering to deny any of the rumours. Regardless of how bizarre they were.

He hadn’t expected to come across someone who would defy him. But there you were, rushing as a hero to stand up for the muggle born boy he was picking at.

“Hey! Leave him alone, he didn’t do anything to you!” You yelled through the hallway as the sun shone through the cracks of windows, casting a halo around the white haired boy. His appearance making him look like an angel. He was far from that though.

He stared at you with a neutral expression, looking down at you as crouched down to help the other first year up. Part of him admired your bravery, however, if your bravery meant defying him then he wouldn’t have it.

“Eh?” he made a confused yet disgusted sound, giving you only that as a response before he let out a laugh filled with poison. He felt a rush of amusement when he briefly noticed the way your nostrils flared, the way the corners of your lips turned downward as you now stood in front him.

The other first year already on his way to get lost from the golden boy and his puppets.

“This is none of your business, so get lost,” Satoru stated with a small shrug, his tone lazy as if you didn’t matter at all.

“Well, it’s not right,” you hummed back, not caring about the lack of interest from his side. Gojo’s friends looked at you with their eyes narrowed, itching to be told to follow the first year or show you why to not mess with them. The signal from him never came, leaving them to simply watch over your interaction.

“So?” he exhaled, pouting his lips at you for a moment.

“Be grateful I am not picking on you,” he added as he turned his back to you, clear sign of dismissal. Your jaw flew open a little at his attitude, you could feel your temper slipping and as he began talking to his friends as if you weren’t there, you lost your cool.

“Aren’t you rude? Seriously, do you think you’re entitled to act like this?” you scoffed at him, expecting him to respond with the same kind of energy, but he barely looked over his shoulder to snicker down at you.

You hoped your interaction on the train wasn’t a definite take on your future, but as you stood in front of him now couple of months later any trace of what you were thinking before was now buried and rejected. He was the spoiled brat you had him for.

“I am talking to you,” you press further, earning yourself looks from the passersby.

He turns to face you then, slight flicker of annoyance etched in the curve of his fair eyebrows. He didn’t appreciate you using that tone. At first he expected you to seize the opportunity to walk away, spare yourself the trouble.

“I don’t take advice from the likes of you,” he spitted out, voice dropping a tone to sound firm as he glared at you. Not a shiver of regret in his piercing eyes.

Due to this very interaction he glued his sights on you.

And suddenly you seemed to be everywhere where he went. The Great Hall where you shared your meals. Your group of friends lingering near the lake. He kept bumping into you at Hogsmead. In the library.

As if on purpose, they merged the first years of Slytherin and Ravenclaw for transfiguration classes due to lack of staff.

Catching a mere glimpse of you during class made his stomach hurl as he recalled your insolence. He couldn’t stand seeing your face. So there wasn’t an opportunity he passed down on which could make your life a little rougher. It started out small and innocent. Throwing curled up pieces of papers into your hair during class. Using cunning spells to spill your ink, crunch your notes. Calling you names and chasing after you in the hallways.

Times you spent in detention couldn’t be indeed counted on your hands. All thanks to the infamous Gojo Satoru who pestered you any chance he got and somehow always managed to get out of it.

It was him who usually started the bickering, yet when it came down to owing it up, his clever mouth ran to spill all the reason why it was your fault and not his. Sparing himself from the detention and driving you crazy.

It’s what seemed right to him back then. And he kept the promise like an oath.

Your future was sealed.

credits for dividers: [@enchanthings-a @cafekitsune]

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art · 1 year ago

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Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel

Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.

Below is our interview with Deb!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.

Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?

I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!

What are your file name conventions?

…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point.

What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?

Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well.

Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?

Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #deb jj lee #jdebbiel

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glitter-stained · 1 month ago

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Damasio, The Trolley Problem and Batman: Under the Hood

Okay so @bestangelofall asked me to elaborate on what I meant by "Damasio's theories on emotions in moral decision-making add another level of depth to the analysis of UTH as a moral dilemma" and I thought this deserved its own post so let's talk about this.

So, idk where everyone is at here (philosophy was mandatory in highschool in my country but apparently that's not the case everywhere so i genuinely have no clue what's common knowledge here, i don't want to like state the obvious but also we should recap some stuff. Also if I'm mentioning a philosopher's or scientist's name without detailing, that means it's just a passing thought/recommendation if you want to read more on the topic.)

First thing first is I've seen said, about jason and the no killing rule, that "killing is always bad that's not up for debate". And I would like to say, that's factually untrue. Like, no matter which side of the debate you are on, there is very much a debate. Historically a big thing even. So if that's not something you're open to hear about, if you're convinced your position is the only correct one and even considering other options is wrong and/or a waste of time... I recommend stopping here, because this only going to make you upset, and you have better stuff to do with your life than getting upset over an essay. In any case please stay civil and remember that this post is not about me debating ethics with the whole bat-tumblr, it's me describing a debate other people have been voicing for a long time, explaining the position Damasio's neuropsychology and philosophy holds in this debate, and analyzing the ethics discussed in Batman: Under the Red Hood in that light. So while I might talk about my personal position in here (because I have an opinion in this debate), this isn't a philosophy post; this is a literature analysis that just so happens to exist within the context of a neuropsychological position on a philosophical debate. Do not try to convince me that my philosophy of ethics is wrong, because that's not the point, that's not what the post is about, I find it very frustrating and you will be blocked. I don't have the energy to defend my personal opinions against everybody who disagrees with me.

Now, let's start with Bruce. Bruce, in Under The Hood and wrt the no kill rule (not necessarily all of his ethics, i'm talking specifically about the no kill rule), is defending a deontological position. Deontology is a philosophy of ethics coined by christian🧷 18th century German philosopher Immanuel Kant. The philosophy of ethics asks this question: what does it mean to do a good action? And deontology answers "it means to do things following a set of principles". Basically Kant describes what are "absolute imperatives" which are rules that hold inherent moral values: some things are fundamentally wrong and others are bad. Batman's no-kill rule is thus a categorical imperative: "Though Shall not Kill"🧷, it is always wrong to kill. (Note that I am not saying Bruce is kantian just because he has a deontology: Kant explained the concept of deontological ethics, and then went up to theorize his own very specific and odd brand of deontology, which banned anything that if generalized would cause the collapse of society as well as, inexplicably, masturbation. Bruce is not Kantian, he's just, regarding the no kill rule, deontological. Batman is still allowed to wank, don't worry.)

In this debate, deontological ethics are often pit up against teleological ethics, the most famous group of which being consequentialism, the most famous of consequentialisms being utilitarism. As the name indicates, consequentialist theories posit that the intended consequences of your actions determine if those actions were good or not. Utilitarism claims that to do good, your actions should aim to maximise happiness for the most people possible. So Jason, when he says "one should kill the Joker to prevent the thousands of victims he is going to harm if one does not kill him", is holding a utilitarian position.

The debate between deontology and utilitarism has held many forms, some fantastical and some with more realistic approaches to real life like "say you're hiding from soldiers and you're holding a baby that's gonna start crying, alerting the soldiers and getting everyone in your hideout massacred. Do you muffle the baby, knowing it will suffocate and kill it?" or "say there's a plague going on and people are dying and the hospital does not have enough ventilators, do you take the one off of the comatose patient with under 0.01% chance of ever waking up to give it to another patient? What about 1%?", etc, etc. The most famous derivative of this dilemma, of course, being the infamous trolley problem.

This is what is meant when we say "the UTH confrontation is a trolley problem." The final confrontation at the warehouse is a variation, a derivative of the utilitarian dilemma that goes as follows: "if someone was trying to kill someone in front of you, and that murder would prevent the murder of thousands, should you try to stop that murder or let it happen?"

Now, here's a question: why are there so many derivatives of the trolley problem? Why do philosophers spend time pondering different versions of the same question instead of solving it?

My opinion (and the one of much, much smarter people whose name i forgot oops) is that both systems fail at giving us a satisfying, clean-cut reply. Now, most people have a clean-cut answer to the trolley problem as presented here: me personally, I lean more towards utilitarianism, and I found it logical to pull the lever. But altering the exact situation makes me change my answer, and there is very often a point where people, no matter their deontological or utilitarian velleities, change their answer. And that's interesting to examine.

So let's talk about deontology. Now my first gripe with deontology it's that it posits a set of rules as absolute and I find that often quite arbitrary. 🧷 Like, it feels a little like mathematical axioms, you know? We build a whole worldview on the assumption that these rules are inherently correct and the best configuration because it feels like it makes sense, and accidentally close our mind to the world of non-euclidian ethics. In practice, here are some situations in which a deontologist might change their mind: self-defense killing, for example, is often cited as "an exception to the rule", making that rule de facto non-universal; and disqualifying it as an absolute imperative. Strangely enough, people will often try to solve the trolley problem by deciding to kill themselves by jumping on the tracks 🧷 which is actually a utilitarian solution: whether you're pulling the lever or you're jumping on the tracks, you are choosing to kill one person to stop the people from being run over. Why does it matter if it's you or someone else you're killing? You're still killing someone. Another situation where people may change their answer would be, like "what if you needed to save your children but to do so you had to kill the ceo of united healthcare?" Note that these are only examples for killing, but the biggest issue is that deontology preaches actions are always either good or wrong, and the issue with that lack of nuance is best illustrated with the kantian problem regarding the morality of lying: let's say it's the holocaust and a family of jews is hiding in your house. Let's say a nazi knocks on your door and asks if there are people hiding in your house. You know if you tell the truth, the jews in your house will be deported. In that situation, is it morally correct to lie? Now, Kant lived before the Holocaust, but in his time there was a similar version of this problem that had been verbalised (this formulation is the best-known derivative of this problem btw, I didn't invent it) and Kant's answer, I kid you not, was still "no it is not morally acceptable to lie in that situation".

And of course, there are variations of that problem that play with the definition of killing- what defines the act of killing and can the other circumstances (like if there's a person you need to save) alter that definition? => Conclusion: there is a lot more nuance to moral actions than what a purely deontological frame claims, and pushing deontology to its limits leads to situations that would feel absurd to us.

Now let's take utilitarianism to its own limits. Say you live in a world where healthcare has never been better. Now say this system is so because there is a whole small caste of people who have been cloned and genetically optimized and conditioned since birth so that their organs could be harvested at any given moment to heal someone. Let's say this system is so performant it has optimised this world's humanity's general well-being and health, leading to an undeniable, unparalleled positive net-worth for humanity. Here's the question: is this world a utopia or a dystopia? Aka, is raising a caste of people as organ cattle morally acceptable in that situation? (Note: Because people's limits on utilitarianism vary greatly from one person to another, I chose the most extreme example I could remember, but of course there are far more nuanced ones. Again, I wasn't the one to come up with this example. If you're looking for examples of this in fiction, i think the limits of utilitarianism are explored pretty interestingly in the videogame The Last of Us).

=> Conclusion: there is a lot more nuance to moral actions than what a purely utilitarian frame claims, and pushing utilitarism to its limits leads to situations that would feel absurd to us.

This leads us back to Under the Hood. Now because UTH includes a scathing criticism of Batman's no kill rule deontology, but Jason is also presented as a villain in this one, my analysis of the whole comic is based on the confrontation between both of these philosophies and their failures, culminating in a trolley dilemma type situation. So this is why it makes sense to have Bruce get mad at Jason for killing Captain Nazi in self-defense: rejecting self-defense, even against nazis, is the logical absurd conclusion of deontology. Winick is simply taking Bruce's no-kill rule to the limit.

And that's part of what gets me about Jason killing goons (aside from the willis todd thing that should definitely have been addressed in such a plot point.) It's that it feels to me like Jason's philosophy is presented as wrong because it leads to unacceptable decisions, but killing goons is not the logical absurd conclusion of utilitarianism. It's a. a side-effect of Jason's plot against Bruce and/or, depending on how charitable you are to either Jason's intelligence or his morals, b. a miscalculation. Assuming Jason's actions in killing goons are a reflection of his moral code (which is already a great assumption, because people not following their own morals is actually the norm, we are not paragons of virtue), then this means that 1) he has calculated that those goons dying would induce an increase in general global human happiness and thus 2) based on this premise, he follows the utilitarian framework and thus believes it's moral to kill the goons. It's the association of (1) and (2) that leads to an absurd and blatantly immoral consequence, but since the premise (1) is a clear miscalculation, the fact that (1) & (2) leads to something wrong does not count as a valid criticism of (2): to put it differently, since the premise is wrong, the conclusion being wrong does not give me any additional info on the value of the reasoning. This is a little like saying "Since 1+ 3= 5 and 2+2=4, then 1+3+2+2 = 9". The conclusion is wrong, but because the first part (1+3=5) is false, the conclusion being wrong does not mean that the second part (2+2 =4) is wrong. So that's what frustrates me so much when people bring up Jason killing goons as a gotcha for criticizing his utilitarian philosophy, because it is not!! It looks like it from afar but it isn't, which is so frustrating because, as stated previously, there are indeed real limits to utilitarianism that could have been explored instead to truly level the moral playing field between Jason and Bruce.

Now that all of this is said and done, let's talk about what in utilitarianism and deontology makes them flawed and, you guessed it, talk some about neuropsychology (and how that leads to what's imo maybe the most interesting thing about the philosophy in Under the Hood.)

In Green Arrow (2001), in an arc also written by Judd Winick, Mia Dearden meets a tortured man who begs her to kill him to save Star City (which is being massacred), and she kills him, then starts to cry and begs Ollie for confirmation that this was the right thing to do. Does this make Mia a utilitarian? If so, then why did she doubt and cry? Is she instead a deontologist, who made a mistake?

In any case, the reason why Mia's decision was so difficult for her to make and live with, and the reason why all of these trolley-adjacent dilemmas are so hard, is pretty clear. Mia's actions were driven by fear and empathy. It's harder to tolerate sacrificing our own child to avoid killing, it's harder to decide to sacrifice a child than an adult, a world where people are raised to harvest their organs feels horrible because these are real humans we can have empathy towards and putting ourselves in their shoes is terrifying... So we have two "perfectly logical" rational systems toppled by our emotions. But which is wrong: should we try to shut down our empathy and emotions so as to always be righteous? Are they a parasite stopping us from being true moral beings?

Classically, we (at least in my culture in western civilization) have historically separated emotions from cognition (cognition being the domain of thought, reasoning, intelligence, etc.) Descartes, for example, was a philosopher who highlighted a dualist separation of emotion and rationality. For a long time this was the position in psychology, with even nowadays some people who think normal psychologists are for helping with emotions and neuropsychologists are for helping with cognition.(I will fight these people with a stick.) Anyway, that position was the predominant one in psychology up until Damasio (not the famous writer, the neuropsychologist) wrote a book named Descartes' Error. (A fundamental of neuropsychology and a classic that conjugates neurology, psychology and philosophy: what more could you ask for?)

Damasio's book's title speaks for itself: you cannot separate emotion from intelligence. For centuries we have considered emotions to be parasitic towards reasoning, (which even had implications on social themes and constructs through the centuries 📌): you're being emotional, you're letting emotions cloud your judgement, you're emotionally compromised, you're not thinking clearly... (Which is pretty pertinent to consider from the angle of A Death in the Family, because this is literally the reproach Bruce makes to Jason). Damasio based the book on the Damasio couple's (him and his wife) study of Phineas Gage, a very, very famous case of frontal syndrome (damage to the part of the brain just behind the forehead associated with executive functions issues, behavioural issues and emotional regulation). The couple's research on Gage lead Damasio, in his book, to this conclusion: emotions are as much of a part of reasoning and moral decision-making as "cold cognition" (non emotional functioning). Think of it differently: emotional intelligence is a skill. Emotions are tools. On an evolutionary level, it is good that we as people have this skill to try and figure out what others might think and do. That's useful. Of course, that doesn't mean that struggling with empathy makes you immoral, but we people who struggle with empathy have stories of moments where that issue has made us hurt someone's feelings on accident, and it made us sad, because we didn't want to hurt their feelings. On an evolutionary level (and this is where social Darwinism fundamentally fails) humanity has been able to evolve in group and in a transgenerational group (passing knowledge from our ancestors long after their death, belonging to a community spread over a time longer than our lifetime) thanks to social cognition (see Tomasello's position on the evolution of language for more detail on that), and emotions, and "emotional intelligence" is a fundamental part of how that great system works across the ages.

And that's what makes Batman: Under the Hood brilliant on that regard. If I have to make a hypothesis on the state of Winick's knowledge on that stuff, I would say I'm pretty sure he knew about the utilitarism vs deontology issue; much harder to say about the Damasio part, but whether he's well-read in neuropsychology classics or just followed a similar line of reasoning, this is a phenomenally fun framework to consider UTH under.

Because UTH, and Jason's character for the matter, refuse to disregard emotions. Bruce says "we mustn't let ourselves get clouded by our emotions" and Jason, says "maybe you should." I don't necessarily think he has an ethical philosophy framework for that, I still do believe he's a utilitarian, but he's very emotion-driven and struggling to understand a mindframe that doesn't give the same space to emotions in decision-making. And as such, Jason says "it should matter. If the emotion was there, if you loved me so much, then it should matter in your decision of whether or not to let the Joker die, that it wasn't just a random person that he killed, but that he killed your son."

And Bruce is very much doubling down on this mindset of "I must be stronger than my feelings". He is an emotionally repressed character. He says "You don't understand. I don't think you've ever understood", and it's true, Jason can't seem to understand Bruce's position, there's something very "if that person doesn't show love in my perspective and understanding of what love is then they do not love me" about his character that I really appreciate. But Bruce certainly doesn't understand either, because while Jason is constantly asking Bruce for an explanation, for a "why do you not see things the way I do" that could never satisfy him, Bruce doesn't necessarily try to see things the way Jason does. And that's logical, since Jason is a 16 years old having a mental breakdown, and Bruce is a grown man carrying on the mission he has devoted himself to for years, the foundation he has built his life over. He can't allow himself to doubt, and why would he? He's the adult, he's the hero, he is, honestly, a pretty stubborn and set-in-his-ways character. So, instead of rising to the demand of emotional decision-making, Bruce doubles down on trying to ignore his feelings. And Jason, and the story doesn't let him. Bludheaven explodes. This induces extremely intense feelings in Bruce (his son just got exploded), which Jason didn't allow him to deal with, to handle with action or do anything about; Jason says no you stay right there, with me, with those emotions you're living right now, and you're making a decision. And there's the fact Bruce had a mini-heart attack just before thinking Jason was dead again. And there's the fact he mourned Jason for so long, and Stephanie just died, and Tim, Cass and Oracle all left, and the Joker is right there, and Jason puts a gun in his hands (like the gun that killed his parents)... All of that makes it impossible for Bruce to disregard his emotions. The same way Jason, who was spilling utilitarian rhetoric the whole time, is suddenly not talking about the Joker's mass murder victims but about he himself. The same way Jason acts against his own morals in Lost Days by sparing the Joker so they can have this confrontation later. That's part of why it's so important to me that Jason is crying in that confrontation.

Bruce's action at the end of the story can be understood two ways:

-he decides to maim/kill Jason to stop the insupportable influx of emotions, and him turning around is his refusal to look at his decision (looking away as a symbol of shame): Bruce has lost, in so that he cannot escape the dilemma, he succumbs to his emotions and acts against his morals.

-the batarang slicing Jason's throat is an accident: he is trying to find a way out of the dilemma, a solution that lets him save his principles, but his emotions cloud his judgement (maybe his hand trembles? Maybe his vision is blurry?). In any case, he kills his son, and it being an accident doesn't absolve him: his emotions hold more weight than his decision and he ends up acting against his morals anyway.

It's a very old story: a deontologist and a utilitarian try to solve the trolley problem, and everyone still loses. And who's laughing? The nihilist, of course. To him, nothing has sense, and so nothing matters. He's wrong though, always has been. That's the lesson I'm taking from Damasio's work. That's the prism through which I'm comparing empathy to ethics in Levinas' work and agape in Compté-Sponsville's intro to philosophy through.

It should matter. It's so essential that it matters. Love, emotions, empathy: those are fundamental in moral evaluation and decision making. They are a feature, not a bug. And the tragedy is when we try to force ourselves to make them not matter.

Anyway so that was my analysis of why Damasio's position on ethics is so fun to take in account when analysing UTH, hope you found this fun!

#dc #jason todd #dc comics #red hood #under the red hood #anti batman #anti bruce wayne #(< for filtering)#jason todd meta #neuropsychology meta #now with the philosophy extension!!#once again having very intense thoughts about Under The Hood #me talking about the “killing goons” part: this comic is so infuriating #me talking about the final confrontation: this is the greatest comic ever 😭😭#winick stop toying with my emotions challenge #anyway I put a couple of pins on some of the ideas in there don't worry about it #also i was told that color coding helped with clarity so hopefully that's still the case!

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singukieee · 9 months ago

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—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 2) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ curator's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Dreams of You by seoktishie

You are a theater actress who dreams of becoming a successful Broadway star. You’ve dedicated your whole life hustling for the show, surrounded by a supportive family and friends you never thought you would lose your best friend and boyfriend on the same day. This puts your dreams to a halt, and you decide to take a break and a soul-searching trip to Korea, where you meet a successful artist that reconnects your love for the arts. OR You accidentally meet Kim Namjoon of BTS, and you had no idea of how an amazing person he is nor how he is the leader of the biggest boyband to date!

🗯️ the yearning and pining *chef's kiss*

Epiphany by 2stanornot2stan

Your soulmate mark seemed self-centred to you "I'm the one I should love" Who would ever want to love someone with that as their soulmate mark?

🗯️ this one is painful. but writing's so good, doesn't fail in pulling my heartstrings.

Escapade by bonnehh_

"Where the hell am I?!" He shrieked, stumbling over his feet like a newborn deer. He was a panicking mess, spinning around in circles to see the unfamiliar sight of giant trees and bushy plants covering the land. The forest was heavily rich with greenery, vegetation and strange fruits. Fallen leaves covered the ground, creating a crunching sound after every step he took. "Calm down, Sweets." I calmly voiced amidst his loud screeches. My words cut through his mess of a mind making him freeze on his spot. Turning on his heel, he noticed me. He stumbled back immediately, possibly because I was covered in angry, red scratches and the bandages covering my arms alerted the male. "What the fudge?!!?! Who- who are you??" He shouted, alarmed by my…seemingly beaten-up figure. "I'm Diana. Welcome to the game." I smiled softly. Hoping my excitement can keep a hold of itself for the sake of keeping the man from getting scared. Dumbfounded, He could only let one word out, "Huh?". Oh boy.

🗯️ a cool one! many adventures and mc has freakishly good survival skills. this honestly cured my longing for that one fic that's no more that was also survival, adventure and game themed with slight crack. I think it was called 'Ready Player One'? (not that famous book and movie). but I think it was a translated ver of a chinese ff on another platform. Idk I still missed it very much, it was also very good. (If you know anything abt this, pls dm me!)

Ethereal by @purpleyoonn

After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.

🗯️ I love soulmate stories, this author also has good writing so

Euphoric Endeavours by haveagreatday

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus' most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth. Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger. It's too bad that they can't seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

🗯️ enemies to lovers, anyone?

Everything Falls (Into Place) by Hiromi_20 / @blog-name-idk

"I… I might know someone who has a spare room," your brother finally muttered hesitantly. You perked up from where the couch had been swallowing you. "What! And you didn't tell me?" You accused. "You'd be living with a bunch of dudes." "Oh my god Jackson," you groaned, rolling your eyes. "The fact that you're even suggesting them means that you know them all and they're good people, right? It's not like they're gonna murder me and hide my body in the walls or something." "Well, yeah, but…" "But WHAT?" you almost screamed in frustration. "They're all… hot." Silence for several moments. Then you started guffawing uncontrollably, unladylike snorts escaping from your lips. "You are such a dork," you gasped between laughs, tears coming to your eyes. "If I promise not to let them gangbang me, will you please ask?"

🗯️ another really well-written crack fic! goshhh this one's so goood! this one's the real friends to lovers, gosh the pining is just *chef's kiss*

Finding My Pack by @untaemedqueen (paid on Patreon but so worth it)

In which an all-alpha pack unexpectedly found their mate isolated in a sterile room. So the only right thing would be to pamper and love her to make up for all those years she spent alone and lonely.

🗯️ spicyy 🥵 but also cute. I love protective mates

Flaw in The System by Strayberry_

She has 8 moons on her wrist. So do they.

🗯️ honestly Idk what to say about this one. just prepare your tissues for this family of misfits that fit so well together.

Full House by fillomina

Y/N has a steady job and lives alone, that is, until she tags along with her friend to the shelter. Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi have been waiting to get adopted, and their chance has finally arrived. With the small hybrid pack now living with Y/N, her life never has a dull moment. As Y/N gets used to her new family, she also begins learning more about old friends, making new ones, and getting a very full house.

🗯️ I'd say that I don't like the fact that yn's kinda treated as a doormat at some parts, but it's still good and quite well-written found family fic.

Getting Back Into The Swing of Things by @jellifysh

Hearing her voice now, Namjoon was reminded of the times when she was all he had. How she was his everything, supported him with everything she had, even if it meant giving him the shirt off her back. "Joon?" Y/n sniffled. "I know it sounds crazy, you don't even have to, its been years," "No," Namjoon was agreeing before he could even think, before he could even remember the other people who lived in the house just the next room over. "No, its okay, I mean, we promised each other right? We'd never turn our backs on each other?" "You can stay with us, it'll be fine I promise, I'll handle everything, don't worry at all, it'll be great! Like, old times, okay?" Namjoon was tripping over his words now, he just felt like if he didn't see her now, he would be too late for… something. What, he wasn't sure, but there was an urgent need to have her home safe.

🗯️ just re-read this one again literally yesterday, still as good as the first time. I love strangers to friends to lovers.

Her by untouchablerave

The question hangs between you, and you’re desperate to ask it. Usually, you don’t mind much who is on the other end of the appointment, as you’re so focused on a list of kinks, trying to map out a scene in your head, but this time, the ‘who’ is all you can focus on. Your boss looks at you. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but… do you know BTS?” Your head snaps up in shock. “You’re fucking with me,” you gasp. “I’m dead serious,” your boss replies. “Jeon Jungkook just came of age. He wants to lose it right away.”

🗯️ spicy but soft soft softtt

Hidden Marks series by Havenesa

❶ Hidden Marks

What does it mean to be soulmates? What do I love about her? What is the reason? Does there need to be a rational reason to love someone? Maybe I love her amber eyes, or the way she tries to hide her smile whenever we get into playful arguments, or her love for just living. Maybe I just love her because she is simply just Han Sera.

🗯️ This one's so angsty yet so good, the writing's also so good at making the characters so human that I'd always end up sobbing at every re-read.

❷ Connecting Hearts

What defines a soulmate? Is it the mark that you were born with, only shared with a selected few? Or a bond which was created through pain and suffering? You'll have to read to find out.

Highlight by Alphathyx

Hana attends Atlas Academy of Arts also known as the AAA to pursue her passions in Hiphop with best friend Hoseok and Prince Charming Jimin. The school gets selected along with other arts schools to compete in an inter-school competition which prize could open doors to any arts students dreams. She along with seven boys, discover what it means to love, but a tragic incident spirals the competition and them into a mystery no one saw coming.

🗯️ friendship and struggle to success <3

Hotel California by Deliebre

You are a badass business guru that works for a huge gaming company. Your home is Korea but you travel often. You are in California for work but keep bumping into hot Korean men, which makes you want to do more than bumping...

🗯️ immediate connection... yes please!

In The Dark by BearPawBeach

"How can that be? I am looking right at you. I am speaking to you right now." "That's the thing. I don't know! That's why I came here today. Yesterday, when you laughed at me, you laughed at me. I almost didn't believe it myself, but the more I thought about it, the crazier it sounded. So I came here to see you and to know if you can see me!" she blurted out. He could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Look, you don't need to lie to me. There is no need to make up some crazy excuse to meet someone." "I'm not lying! I really am invisible," she argued back. The man just threw his hands up to concede and turned to walk away from her again, walking right out of the building. The girl followed in hot pursuit. "Do you really not believe me? Why would I make something like that up? Yes, I know it sounds crazy. If I were you, I would probably think it's nuts too, but I am telling you the truth!"

🗯️ mc is invisible in this one, story's kinda sad and cute!

In Your Roots by sweetinsanityy

Jungkook is the perfect alpha, a little too perfect. Being the youngest in Bangtan, a group full of alpha's, friction has been happening between him and the boys. He's too strong, too dominating, too wild, and too much for Bangtan to handle. The perfect solution? An omega just for himself. You happen to be the perfect candidate. But the other boys want a taste of you as well. Or, you're hired to be an omega for Jungkook to take care of, and maybe he and the rest of the boys get too attached.

🗯️ another one about the boys being absolute simps!

Iridescent Love by @imnotlauriane

From a fated meeting to a life filled with wonders, the path of discovery is much, much harder than what I had prepared myself for. Especially when my identity, the only one I knew of ends up being a total lie.

🗯️ sad... but it got better. and what did I say abt imnotlauriane's stories? they're all good!

It's a Little Complex? by Infired_Mochi

Starting college and moving into a new apartment with complete independence has been your goal. Due to all the hard work at the cafe during your high school years, and your parents pitching in a few dollars, you can afford to stay in the apartment that is just the right size. However, did you get more than you bargained for? A few other college students occupy the rooms next to yours, seven to be exact. Eight rooms reside on the third floor of the apartment complex and yours is on the farthest right wing, apartment number 308. Just wait until you meet them.

🗯️ sooo it's a little complex... just read it!

Late Bloomer by basicwitch13

Despite growing up in a wolf pack, you were never able to shift nor had a second gender present itself. It seemed, by all accounts, that you were a typical human. So you carried on, burying yourself in your work as a sociology professor—until one of your students introduces you to his pack and changes everything.

🗯️ yes to yearning, pining, and healing.

Like Crazy by @euphoricfilter

The story of seven loves across eight lives.

🗯️ so freakin well-written

Little Do You Know... by @yoongiofmine

In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose.

🗯️ another idk what to sayy, just read bcs it's so gooood.

Magic Shop by AriZedd

In which Yn is meeting new friends (and an old one) getting charmed day by day.

🗯️ just read this crack fic, strangers to friends to ... I'm obsessed.

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI

#san recs #hybrid bts #bts poly #bts x reader #fics recs #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts fic

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cherryzlem · 11 months ago

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My talk on the TikTok-ification of ‘I have no mouth and i must scream’

I personally have discovered ihnmaims recently and through TikTok but honestly, from what i've seen so far, the Tumblr community is way more welcoming than the TikTok community. I believe the ones i call ‘hardcore fans’ or 'gatekeepers' will try all they can to belittle the people who discovered the book/game through TikTok, like any hardcore fan does for their community when it gets famous on TikTok.

TikTok is very helpful to share media on and i have discovered many fandoms through it. But some people are so against ‘TikTok-ification’ that they can’t stand when people find medias through this platform.

When i see some people (again, mostly solely on TikTok) tell AM fans ‘ermm but you know he SA’d Helen ☝️🤓’ i cant help but think ‘yes ?? And he also committed genocide on humanity, keeps torturing the same 5 people over and over again and im very, VERY sure he did use a lot of not really nice kinds of tortures on them, but you draw the line at SA ??’

Like, AM is a horrible being of course, all of these are horrible actions but if someone, like me, likes AM its not gonna be because they think they’re a good ‘person’ (for lack of a better word), WE KNOW AM is bad, of course we do, HE’S THE BAD GUY OF THE STORY and he’s the kind of bad guy who cannot be redeemed but COME ON, WE KNOW THAT.

I love AM for his writing, for how well thought he is as a character, i do not love him for his actions. And i know some 'new gen fans' will pretend AM is not 'that bad' but you shouldn't just assume every fan who comes from TikTok is going to think like that.

Another thing i’ve seen people hate on are AM’s humanisations/personnifications fanarts when posted on TikTok. I know for a fact that these existed for a long long time on other platforms such as Tumblr but the arguments the haters pull out is that ‘errr AM hates humanity, i doubt he’d want to be human ☝️🤓’ but do you even know WHY he hates humanity ?? Have you read the book ???

The reason AM hates humanity is because he wasn’t able to express the creativity he was given by humans, he didn’t just wake up one day and decided to hate humans ?? If anything, giving AM a more humanized/personified image would be something he would want more than anything. If AM had been able to BE like a human none of the shit he did would have happened.

The only ‘argument’ im willing to listen to is when some people say that the whole point of AM’s character is that he isn’t human. But then again, are you against fun ?? In literally EVERY fandom with non-human characters artists will give them humanized designs, even if just for AU’s (take ‘The stanley parable’ for exemple), it’s not because the story is old and is an horror story that people cannot have fun with it. It’s not because it’s a deep story with meaning that people can’t do what they want with it. That is what creativity is for.

And my final point is addressing the people who hate on AM's simps. My gosh, these people have not seen the dawn of the internet if they think its weird to simp for AM.

People simp for Glados, The Narrator from tsp, horror movies murderers and more, and you're telling me that AM is the worst simping choice you could make ?? Let people have fun, let people have weird taste in fictional crushes. In other words:

Stop being allergic to fun, ffs

#lem's complaints #opinions that will get me cancelled #/j #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #cringe culture is dead #stop gatekeeping #am ihnmaims #text post #text tag #text

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skzhocomments · 5 months ago

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The Rising Empress - Bang Chan Stray Kids Fanfic (Masterlist)

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (of Stray Kids) x OC (name: Aristia)

Genre: non-idol AU, Royal AU, soft enemies to lovers, angst, romance, mature

Word Count: ~64k words divided in 17 chapters

Warnings: explicit, mature, swearing, feelings of hopelessness, angst, depression, crying, domestic violence, depression, anxiety, angst, etc.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Stray Kids members' true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

---

Summary:

“I guarantee you nothing will happen to you. I give you my word.” “How much does your word weigh, though?” Aristia scoffs. “You vowed during our wedding to love, cherish, and protect me no matter what. So far, none of your vows were respected. You said it yourself. You were never a husband to me.” “Neither were yours. In sickness and in health, I will stand by your side. With all that I am and all that I have, I pledge my loyalty and my love to you.” Chris scoffs as well. “You didn’t give me any chance to get close to you. You’ve put up your barriers and thought of me as your enemy since day one.” She comes closer to him. “I had no idea we shared an enemy instead, Aristia. Truly. I thought you were a spy.” “You didn’t even ask me anything. You dead bolted me.” “How could I have trusted you? You are the daughter of my enemy.” Chris frowns. “I don’t know. How can I trust you now, then? You are a man who hates me for simply being born as a princess of the enemy kingdom.” “… I assume you can’t.”

---

The Kingdom of the South and the Empire of the Sun forge an alliance at the expense of Princess Aristia - the daughter of a King who didn’t want her, sent over like a sacrificial lamb to his enemy, a man who doesn’t want her either, who won’t even cast a look at her. She decides she won’t look at him either. Two can play this game. --- Non-idol AU This story takes place in an alternate universe where Bang Chan is Emperor Mature content ahead. 18+ ©storminsidemycore

Hello!

Storm here!

The Rising Empress is a story I've started writing on 17/01/2024 and finished on 28.10.2024.

I've always been an avid Manga and Manhwa reader, so I've pretty much gotten inspiration from the hundreds of things I've read, which is how this story was born.

I hope you will enjoy it, as I'm extremely proud with how it turned out. It's safe to say that for me personally, this is one of my best, if not the best work.

The main character's name (Aristia) is inspired after the Manhwa The Abandoned Empress - which is where I found this name and its meaning. Apparently, "Aristia" means "Rising Empress", which I found quite fitting for this story.

---

The story and cover are original and my property. Any similarities to other stories are purely coincidental. Aristia, the protagonist, is a made-up character.

Stray Kids members or any other famous people mentioned along this story DO NOT represent their true character in any way, they are simply mentioned in order to provide a visual representation for the readers. Their personas obviously have nothing to do with their true personalities. They're just characters I've created for this story, so please don't take this too seriously.

Mature content ahead. Lots of trigger warnings apply, so please read carefully.

---

18+

©storminsidemycore

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Chapter 1 - The Sacrificial Lamb - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 2 - The Wedding - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 3 - Mistreatment and the Loss of Self - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 4 - The Bearer of Bad News - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 5 - Dirt on the Marble Floors - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 6 - When You're on Your Own - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 7 - When the Emperor Takes Notice - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 8 - Envy and Power - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 9 - Yearning for More - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 10 - The Battlefield inside the Palace - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 11 - Setting the Plan in Motion - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 12 - Aristia's Letter - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 13 - Betraying the Emperor - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 14 - The Punishment - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 15 - A Way Out - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 16 - Slowly Building Trust - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

Chapter 17 - The Rising Empress (Final Chapter) - Tumblr + Wattpad + AO3

---

Thank you so much for reading my story, and I'm looking forward to your thoughts!

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usedpidemo · 5 months ago

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Commissions version 2.0 (Rules and FAQ, plus some very important housekeeping).

Let's do this again.

Buy Me A Coffee. Ko-fi.

You may request here. Or here.

Unless specifically requested, all stories are NSFW and therefore only idols over the age of 18 are eligible. Don’t ask for minors and don’t even bother trying; this will result in an instant block.

Most kinks are eligible to be written, otherwise please ask first before requesting. I am willing to write non-vanilla material provided it isn’t unethical or morally wrong. This does mean, however, that I will not be writing the following due to their graphic nature:

Non-con/Dub-con

Racial/raceplay

Bestiality

Omegaverse (this is more due to lack of knowledge rather)

Scat

For anything else, please message me first before moving forward with your request.

I will write for most K-pop groups/idols, especially mainstream ones, but feel free to ask whether I can write yours. (I can extend this to allow for non K-pop idols, singers and different celebrities like actors as well, please just don’t give me real non-famous people like your IRLs and other familiars.)

Learning from last time: I cannot give you a proper delivery date, at best only a range/period. In addition to my real life obligations, writing is an incredibly volatile hobby. Sometimes inspiration hits, sometimes it does not. However, you can inquire about the status of your commission through DMs for an update. Full transparency: your commission will have equal precedence as my ideas/work.

We follow a strong mutual code of trust between strangers. I will not acknowledge or reveal personal information from your side provided you do the same with mine. This includes your real name, your email, and any other personal details that may be compromised during this transaction. Your name (real or username) will not be openly disclosed during the public release of your commission.

No refunds. By reading this, it is understood that you have read my previous work and have entrusted me to write to my quality standards. I will do my best to fulfill as much of your request as possible to the best of my abilities.

While you are free to provide as much information and detail regarding your commission, creative liberties may be taken to produce the final product.

Likewise, I have final authority in regards to your commission’s public release and where it may be posted. I will post a link to your fic that will be stored in my Masterlist post.

Communication will be done primarily through my Tumblr blog (usedpidemo) or on Discord (pipipipi). If you’re on Twitter/X, request a follow first before messaging me there (@DoctorPenApp1n).

—————

Full transparency, I genuinely don't know how long I have left. My family and I have been going through some very difficult times lately, but especially financially. Our family business hasn't been doing well ever since the mall closed off the parking area where our shop resides, consequently reducing our exposure visibility to the general public. We don't have the capital to buy for marketing materials like posters and flyers. It's been a rough month for us sales wise. There's talks of our store having to shut down if this keeps getting worse before the construction may be completed sometime in 2025.

We're just barely getting by. We've had our power cut twice already because of late payments. We've lost running water once. Not to mention we're still behind on dues to the mall for letting us rent out the space, the suppliers, the employees working for us. There's so much we have to pay, and right now, our revenue is not enough. At this point, we're only banking on a miracle to save us from complete financial ruin. Hell, I don't even know if we can even afford basic necessities in the near future. This includes the internet and my education, which sucks because I'm so—so close to graduating and being able to help out in some shape or form.

I'm telling you all this because it means I'll be forced to let go of stuff that I'm genuinely passionate about. Finding a job in this economy is already fucking difficult for anyone, let alone in this country with horrible pay and inflated living costs. I don't wanna waste hours away at a thankless job I'm clearly not fit for, and I might as well spend that energy on something I have some experience in. I will deal with burnout when I get to that point; right now it's about making the most of whatever resources I have currently to live another day.

I am not requiring you to feel sympathy for me or asking for free money. I know that you have bigger priorities than to show care for some random person on the internet. But even just a reblog to spread the word is more than enough. I seriously cannot be here without your continued, unwavering patience and support even after three years doing this. I know I'm not the best, but I certainly am trying.

With that said, all my content will remain freely accessible regardless. If it's in my masterlist, it can be read. Thank you—thank you—so much for reading.

#update #commissions open #fanfic commissions #smut commissions

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smoshtwtdrama · 2 months ago

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FOR TODAY'S TOPIC(6) UPDATE!—

"my point was if you write something horny about real life people, criticism is natural" — Jaycee AKA TREVRASHA said after our conversation for a clearance between them and lilacfoxes

"Though I may not know what stories have gone through, I'll listen both sides and gather enough to understand what went on" — smoshtwtdrama

Few hours ago I have blocked Jaycee's main Tumblr and after that their new account found me and have reached me out. At first they replied to my TOPIC (6) talking about how this is a "bootleg mean girl" thing so I reached out to them.

I message them first with kindness and asked; "may I know why you're doing this? The whole "oh they're a bad person I'm gonna screenshot our conversations and let others hurt them back!" Thing?'

They've responded back sharing a kind tone as well before explaining; "I don't think lilac is a bad person, if you're asking why I posted the DM, wouldn't you? Who DMs someone to call them out of their name. -- especially after publicly putting on a front as if they're the one being attacked."

Smoshtwtdrama: "but why would you start first? If I remember correctly"

Jaycee: "because I followed them, I came across their Tumblr post on my feed. The post was essentially venting about people posting screenshots of their AO3 fic (the damangela one). I commented on the post (someone could argue that I shouldn't have commented in the first place but I truly wasn't being negative) and said something along the lines of "you posted porn about real people, of course some think it's weird." -- these past two days are the most I've even used Tumblr so I wasn't even expecting a response. But they responded saying most people had an issue with the damangela pairing, not rpf. I tried to make it clear that I didn't have any issue with rpf and I wasn't even judging them for rpf smut, I was saying that people weren't discrediting them as a writer, they were weirded out by the concept of two smosh members having sex. Whether or not they hate Damien has nothing to do with me, I personally enjoy him."

Smoshtwtdrama: "I see.. but in my point of view nobody should be posting about anybody if they could just communicate and understand through DMs, why must it start on long arguments on twitter? Several smosh authors are now terrified to receive hatred or become a laughing stock because of your posts."

Jaycee: "they posted me first on this app. i made the first tweet, basically repeating the same sentiment i had in my comment. i didn’t use lilac’s name or anything, because it wasn’t directed towards them. the interaction we had inspired me, yes, but they aren’t the only people who’ve created rpf smut (not even just smoshfandom but generally). they somehow saw the tweet, which had only 8 likes, and proceeded to screenshot it and post to their blog/acc. lilac posted me first, claiming that a nameless, if-the-shoe-fits kinda tweet was bullying them. i, in return, screenshotted the post made about me and posted it on twitter. i joked that i’ve now ‘made it’ and am famous because the situation was funny. people in the comments were laughing with me, not at lilac, but of course lilac is somehow the victim"

Smoshtwtdrama: "oh I see, but in lilac's point of view everything she read felt like it was pointed to her.. now I understand" I said because I'm starting to connect the dots between each other's posts

Jaycee: "and last thing i’ll say is i’m the literal last person smosh writers have to worry about. i wasn’t posting lilac to make fun of their writing. as i said, it didn’t even stem from a ‘fuck ur writing’ place. my point was if you write something horny about real life people, criticism is natural."

The conversation ends there with a simple "thank you for letting me know" I've asked Jaycee if they're willing to let me post our conversation to clear the air and they said yes.

But for the audience out there, this isn't something to side on of who's wrong or fault, it was a clear misinterpretation, if not then a wrongful communication. We don't have to post what we said if we can just communicated through messaging.

I understand both sides, nobody is wrong. And nobody should take sides.

What's your thoughts on this? Let me know!

|| THAT'S ALL FOR TODAY'S TOPIC!

#smosh #smoshtwt #smoshtwt drama #smoshtwt news #smoshblr #smoshtwt update

38 notes · View notes

musings-of-a-rose · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader

Word Count: 5700+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: I know. We have 2 pictures and a one-sentence movie description. And yet, here I am, being a slut for this man’s characters. @rhoorl, this is for you!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Lucien Flores Masterlist

Great. Another dinner party. I swear my roommate is trying to kill me.

“Come on. It'll be fun, Decaf!”

“You know I hate that nickname, right?”

Claudia chuckles, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “Then stop being so-” she gestures with her free hand “-blah.”

“Ouch.”

Claudia sighs. “You know what I mean. Ever since Dan you just haven’t been..the same.”

I stiffen at the mention of my ex’s name. “He put me through hell, Claudia.”

She nods, placing her hand back on my arm in a placating gesture. “No, of course! He was an asshole! But you shouldn’t stop living your life because of him.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling loudly. “I know that. But I just…need some time. And having a dinner party every other weekend is not helping.”

She blows a raspberry with her tongue. “You know you love my parties. Besides, they help you loosen up.”

They don’t. I pretend to drink while my friends get drunk, eventually leaving when the party gets too much to handle. It’s not that they’re mean or anything. I just don’t enjoy being the only sober person in a room full of inebriated people.

“And besides, Marcos specifically requested your famous tiramisu for dessert!” She gives me a pointed look, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I don’t-”

“We can go shopping tonight! Maybe Marcos can come over to uh, help.” She winks at me, and that smirk finally pops up.

“I’ll make the dessert but I’m not going. I mean it this time, Claudia.”

I sigh, looking at my reflection in the mirror as I smooth down my simple black dress. I say no and somehow I always end up going. How does she do that?

The doorbell rings and I hear the faint excited tone of Claudia welcoming someone in. I do one last quick hair check and force a smile on my face, taking a moment to look in the mirror to make sure it doesn’t look too forced before I head downstairs, closing my door behind me.

“Decaf! There you are! Marcos is in the kitchen. Why don’t you help him with the wine he brought?” Claudia turns to put Marcos’s coat and umbrella on the coat stand, Marcos anticipating the rain that’s forecasted to come at some point.

“Wine isn’t really my-”

“There she is!” Marcos pops his head out of the kitchen, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Could you get the wine opener for me?”

Fake smile affixed, I nod. “Sure.” I follow him into the kitchen, turning to glare at Claudia over my shoulder who smiles and gestures towards Marcos before turning back to answer the next knock at the door.

I grab the automatic wine opener from the drawer, Marcos smiling at me as I hold it up. “Thanks so much, D!” Well, at least it was better than Decaf. Even though I knew he knew where the opener was.

“Of course. Do you remember how to work this thing?”

“I think so.” He takes the wine opener from me, gently brushing his fingers against mine in a not so subtle hint of flirting. He affixes the opener on the bottle and presses the button, watching as the electric opener does its thing.

It’s not that I don’t like Marcos. He’s attractive, nice, deep hazel eyes, and obviously likes me. He’s smart too, starting up his own bio med tech company with just an idea and a promise. I could be content with him, I guess. If it wasn’t for this odd feeling at the back of my brain about him, something I could never pinpoint exactly. Even so, I’m just not attracted to him no matter how hard I tried. And I promised myself after Dan that I wouldn’t settle just so I didn’t feel lonely anymore.

“You look beautiful tonight, D. That dress fits you perfectly.”

I smile, knowing it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Thanks, Marcos. How’s work? The prototype coming along?”

He smiles and launches into a long winded explanation of what exactly was going on as he follows me around the kitchen, helping me set the food on the table while Claudia pours wine and passes out hors d'oeuvres for the other guests - there are about 12 of us total. He’s cute when he talks so passionately, but again I don’t feel any connection. And the feeling at the back of my brain scratches at me again, but I push it down, putting another smile on my face.

Dinner starts, an appetizer of vegetable soup ladeled into bowls. Claudia is every bit the chef her mother is and more, making even the simplest dishes delectable. When the roast comes, a recipe passed down several generations in her family, another knock raps at the door. Claudia looks around at everyone, mentally counting before looking at me, her eyebrows raised in a are you expecting someone? Question. I shake my head, Claudia starting to push her chair back but I stand, placing my napkin on the side of my plate.

“I got it, Claud.”

Conversations resume behind me as I leave the room, walking down the hall to the front door. A quick glance out of the peephole shows me a man, silky button up shirt with a print of random brushes strokes stretching across his broad shoulders as he puts a cigarette out on the front steps, pushing his shoe into it. I slide the lock back and crack the door open, his eyes snapping up to my face and the air rushes from my lungs when I meet his gaze. Dark brown eyes bore into mine and he cocks his head slightly to the side, smiling slightly. Oh shit is he wearing two chains?

“Good evening, miss.”

Oh shit I hadn’t said a word.

“Oh. Uh, hi. Can I help you?”

He smiles a little wider, tossing his thumb over his shoulder. “My car stalled and my phone is dead. Could I come in and call someone?”

I don’t entirely believe his story, but something in his eyes makes my brain go fuzzy and a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time start between my legs.

“S-sure. Come on in.” I open the door wider and he smiles at me, nodding as he walks past.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure anyone would be home. Seems a lot of people are away for the weekend.”

“Oh not really. People around here don’t actually live here. It’s their second homes.” In fact, ours was Claudia’s parent’s second home. Which is the only way I could afford a place this nice.

“Ah. That makes sense.” We stand in the entryway, his eyes scanning my face with that little smile still playing at his lips. It’s several long moments before I realize I’m the one who should be talking.

“Oh! Uh, can I take your coat….” It’s then I realize he doesn’t have one, not even carrying one.

He chuckles. “I think I’m good. But thank you for the offer.” The lights hit the chains around his neck and I swallow hard, wondering what it would be like to feel those chains smack me in the face over and over and-

Laughter erupts from the dining hall and..oh shit I never asked his name.

I tell him my name. “But you can call me D.”

“What’s that short for?”

“I…don’t want to say.”

“That bad, huh? I’ve had some bad nicknames in my time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But my name is Lucien.” He extends his hand and I shake it, melting internally as I feel how large his hand his, how warm, and my brain wanders away on the thot train of exactly what I want those hands to do. Another round of laughter from the dining room breaks my trance and I give my head a little shake, dropping his hand.

“Dinner party,” I gesture down the hall towards the dining room.

“Ah. I thought you just dressed beautifully for fun.”

I can feel the heat in my cheeks and I glance away, tucking hair behind my ear before looking back at him. “I uh…you said your phone is dead?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He pulls it from his pocket, turning it to show me the blank screen.

“I have a charger. Come, I’ll let you use it and then you can come have some food if you’d like?”

“Oh I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s no bother. Really.” I let my hand rest on his arm, giving it a small squeeze. Who even am I right now?

His eyes flick between mine before he nods. “Lead the way.”

I yell to Claudia that I’m getting my charger and she doesn’t question it, diving right back into whatever story she’s telling as I lead Lucien up the stairs. To my bedroom. What am I doing right now? Before I can think further, I’m at my door, opening the handle and crossing to my night stand, pulling the end out of my own phone and extending my hand. “Here. Let me charge it for you.”

He hesitates a moment before placing his phone in my hand. “I appreciate it, D.”

I plug in his phone and open mine. “Do you have a preferred mechanic?”

“For what?”

“Y-your car?”

“Oh! Right! Uh sure. Can I just?” He makes to grab my phone and I let him, hiding a smirk when I notice that the tips of his ears are red. He taps away at my phone and holds it up to his ear, ordering a mechanic to his car.

“Hey, what neighborhood is this?”

“Destiny Falls.”

“Destiny Falls….great…thanks.” He taps the screen and hands me back my phone. “Thanks.”

I take the phone from him, feeling his fingers touch mine, a chill running down my arm and straight between my legs. “N-no worries.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his eyes moving down my body and back up. “You mentioned dinner?”

“Shit! Sorry! Yeah, uh this way.”

He follows me back out and down the stairs. I can feel his eyes on my ass and so I put an extra emphasis on my walk, an extra sway in my hips and I swear I hear a small groan coming from him.

“Hhhm?” I ask.

“What? Oh, I uh, I’m hungry.”

I open the door to the dining room, Lucien following me in. Everyone turns their heads to look, Claudia’s eyes moving furiously between us both before she stands. “Who’s this, Decaf?”

I widen my eyes at her, willing her to never use that nickname again. “This is Lucien. His car broke down a couple blocks away and no one else is home. His phone died so he couldn’t call anyone. He’s going to wait here for the mechanic.”

Lucien holds up his hand. “Hi. Thank you for allowing me into your home.”

Claudia smiles, waving him up. “Of course! Are you hungry? Let me get you a plate.”

“Oh I don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense! Decaf, could you get him a plate and a chair? Marcos, scootch down a bit and we can put Lucien’s chair at the end.”

I look over at Marcos, who’s eyes are narrowed at Lucien, a hard look in them.

Men.

I roll my eyes and turn towards the kitchen, motioning for Lucien to follow me. “Come on. I need those hands.” It’s not until we’re in the kitchen when I realize what I said.

“So. You need my hands, doll?”

“I meant for the chair, but we’ll see if I can find another use for them.” What the fuck did I just say?

He chuckles, his eyes darkening. “I’m sure you’ll find me more than willing to help with whatever you want me for.”

Fuck, he’s looking at me and he has to know what he said. Lucien takes a few steps towards me, stepping inside the comfortable distance between strangers. Does he know that the heat between my thighs is almost unbearable at this point? I’m tempted to get him seated and go take care of myself before I get into trouble.

“I-”

“Hey, D. Need any help?” Marcos had come through the door. I jump back, startled. Why do I feel guilty? I don’t owe Marcos anything.

“Hey Marcos. No, I think we got it.”

“Here, Lucien. Let me show you where the spare chairs are.”

Lucien looks down at me and winks before following Marcos. “After you.”

I make Lucien a plate of food and bring it out to the table, the conversation still moving forward. I set the plate down and go back to the kitchen to get him a drink when I hear raised voices from the back storage closet where the chairs are. I can’t make it out but they’re definitely arguing.

Ugh, men.

Then the storage room door pops open and Lucien exits, carrying a chair. The look on his face is hard, anger etching into his face, but then he sees me and it disappears immediately, giving me a smile. “Got the chair.”

He walks towards me as Marcos takes a moment to close the door. “Everything ok, guys?”

“We’re great, D.”

“Because it sounded like you were fighting.”

“Nope. All good.” Marcos’s voice was flat, not his normal charismatic, charming tone he uses to win everyone over. I don’t believe him but it’s not the time to press him.

Lucien sits at the table and everyone starts asking him questions, his face animatedly answering all of them. The conversation pauses, everyone stopping to drink or eat or talk between themselves. Lucien shifts in his chair beside me, his leg brushing against mine and I gasp, trying to hide it as a small cough. But the twinkle in his eye tells me he heard me and knew exactly what I did. Not even the glare from Marcos at Lucien could ruin the mood for me. Lucien presses his leg into mine further, taking a sip of wine as he cracks a joke and everyone laughs, the ring on his pointer finger sparkling in the light from the chandelier. I can’t take it any more, the throbbing between my thighs is so intense I swear everyone can hear it. I need to get out of the room.

“Excuse me. I’ll uh…I’ll go check on your phone.” I hastily stand, pushing my chair back.

“Do you want help, D?” Marcos asks, halfway to standing himself.

“No! Uh, no. I can check a phone myself, thanks.”

I walk calmly from the room, waiting until the door closes behind me before I take the stairs 2 at a time, closing my bedroom door behind me and pressing my back against it, feeling the coolness of the wood seep through my thin dress, but it does nothing to dull the ache between my legs. I sit on my bed next to my night stand, legs on the floor and put my hands over my face. Get it together. A quiet knock makes me jerk and snap my head up, moving my hands just enough to speak.

“Who is it?”

“Lucien.”

Shit.

“What can I do for you?”

“I uh, just need to check on my phone?”

Oh right.

“Come on in.”

As Lucien opens the door, I lean back slightly, placing my arms behind me and lean on them. Lucien gently closes the door and crosses the room, his pant leg brushing against my bare knee as he reaches for his phone and presses the power button, light shining in his face. I press my thighs together in what I hope is an inconspicuous manner.

“Only 15%. This phone takes forever to charge. Do you mind if I charge it a little more?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.” He sets the phone down and turns his head to look at me, his eyes flicking to my thighs that are currently jammed together so tight even water couldn’t get through them.

“Let me help you with your problem.”

I swallow hard. “P-problem?”

“Yes. Your problem.”

“I..I don’t have…” I lose all track of what I was going to say as his eyes darken, slowly raking over my body before landing on my own darkened gaze, smirking at me.

“I’m an excellent…helper.”

“I..I d-don’t have a p-problem.”

“No?”

I shake my head, not even convincing myself. But then my voice catches in my throat as he gets on his knees in front of me, his fingers gently swirling a random pattern across my knees and lower thighs. My skin sears where he touches me, and I can feel how soaked I’m getting. He gently wraps his hands around my knees and slowly pushes them open, the cool air not doing much to cool me down. My chest heaves as his eyes move up my legs, his gaze disappearing under my shortened dress, honing in on where I need him.

“I think I found your problem.”

“Y-yeah?”

He slowly slides his hand up my thigh, my breath coming out in little spurts the higher he gets. His hand disappears under my dress and then I feel him, his finger sliding up the middle of me still over my underwear and my hips jolt, immediately betraying all sense of logic in my brain, the side of me that’s screaming this is a stranger!

“Good news. I can help fix your problem.”

“Y-you can?”

“Do you want me to?”

I’m still propped up on my elbows, gazing down at this man who is kneeling between my legs, hand up my dress, rubbing tiny circles into my inner thigh with the tip of his finger, his eyes nearly black with lust, my logic side screaming at me to tell him no, to tell him to stop, to play it safe.

But I’m tired of being called Decaf.

“Yes.”

He smirks, sliding his hands up further, fingers pinching the fabric of my panties before he slides them down and off, tossing them behind him without looking. He gently places my legs over his shoulders, pushing my thighs open wider with his broad shoulders.

“Show me,” he says it calmly, but it’s also commanding and I shiver.

I grip the bottom of my dress and pull it up over my hips, exposing myself to him. His eyes move to stare at my cunt, darkening the rest of the way. He moves his fingers to spread me and I gasp at his touch as he takes me all in.

“Fuck!” I yell out as he quickly dips his head and licks up the center of me, his tongue curling around the bundle of nerves. My thighs try to jam against his head but he is so damn broad that all they do is weakly twitch against his shoulders as he works me open with his mouth, moaning into my cunt.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, I-” words tumble from me in an incoherent jumble. I feel one of his thick fingers swirling around my entrance before he pushes it all the way in, the cool metal of his ring brushing against my skin. My mouth is open in a silent scream, but then he pulls his finger out, adding another, his head lifted to watch as he fucks me with his fingers, the lewd squelches filling the quiet room.

He moves his head back down, gently sucking on my clit and my fingers fly to his head, twisting into his beautiful curls and gripping it as I moan his name, his fingers curling inside of me, slowly stroking at that spot. I can feel myself tightening, pulsing around his fingers as he pushes me closer to the edge. But then he pulls his hand out, his mouth leaving me and I huff.

“What the fu-”

He stands, undoing the buttons on his shirt before taking it off, tossing it on the floor. He’s not 6 pack fit but he’s trim, a small tummy poking out by his pant line that I desperately want to bite. His large hands work open his pants and before I know it, he springs free, heavy and ready.

“Take off your dress.”

It takes me a moment to tear my eyes away from him, nearly ripping my dress in half in my haste to rid myself of it. I unlatch my bra too, tossing it wherever it lands. Lucien pushes my legs open, settling himself between my thighs, pressing his chest against mine. I think he’s going to say something but then all words leave my brain as he pushes inside of me, splitting me open, hand clasped over my mouth as I scream into it, hands flailing around simply because I don’t know what to do with them. He burns me slightly from the stretch but I don’t even care. He bottoms out and just sits there a few moments, his own chest heaving with self-restraint.

Without pulling out, he thrusts further in, pressing at a spot inside of me I didn’t even know existed. A whiny yelp escapes me before his hand clamps over my mouth again, his eyes finding mine as he continues this slow assault. He tentatively removes his hand, my mouth hanging open as jolt of pleasure radiates out from my cunt with every thrust of his hips.

“Do you want me to fuck you into this bed, doll?”

I nod frantically, my hands gripping his ass in an attempt to move him faster.

“Tell me.”

“Please. Please Lucien, fuck me into my bed I-” he clamps his hand over my mouth again, his hips picking up to a rapid pace as he fucks into me, lifting my leg over his hip to change the angle. Then he somehow gathers my flailing hands in one of his large ones, pinning them into the bed above my head as he continues to snap his hips into mine, each thrust driving me rapidly towards the edge he had already brought me to earlier. The thin chains he wore brush against my face with every thrust, and I moan into his hand.

And then I fling myself over the edge, each thrust of his hips carrying me further and further into this bliss. I’ve never experienced this, not in this way, not this intense, rolling waves of pleasure pulsing over my entire body. I feel his hand loosen their grip, no longer over my mouth and they squeeze my hips, flipping me over so quickly my head spins slightly. I bury my face in my blankets and moan as he thrusts into me, his fingers digging into my hips as he sets a rapid pace, pushing my back down to curve my ass up further. To my surprise, I feel one of his hands snake around me, finding my clit and applying the perfect touch, perfect amount of pressure as he drives me towards the edge again at a rapid pace. He pulls me up, my back flush against his chest, his arm wrapping around me to continue touching me while the other holds my hair tightly and I come, his name gasping from my lips as I feel his hips sputter against me, a mix of hard and soft grunts in my ear before he loosens his fingers, letting me drop back to my hands.

He pulls out with a grunt and I immediately feel light, empty, and a little sore but in a good way. He looks at me and I point to my en suite bathroom, still trying to catch my breath. He disappears for several moments before coming back out, a wet washcloth in hand. He looks at me, still in the same position he left me in and moves behind me, pressing the cloth to my sensitive skin. I twitch and hear a low chuckle as he continues to clean me up. He helps me lay on my back, his finger tracing circles around my nippple before giving it a little pinch.

“We better get back to your party.”

“My what?” I’d completely forgotten there even was a dinner party happening. He laughs, his hand resting on my stomach.

“Your dinner party. Surely your friends will wonder where you are.”

“Maybe. Or we could just stay here, naked, and see what happens?”

His eyes darken again and he leans forward, pulling a boob into his mouth and sucking on it. I gasp but then he drops it, sitting back up.

“As much as I’d love that, we should probably get back downstairs.”

I’m hurt, but he’s right. Soon enough my friends would send a search party. And I don’t want any of them to see this complete stranger, balls deep inside of me. Although if you asked me when he was actually balls deep, I wouldn’t have cared at all.

Lucien dresses first and heads back downstairs, winking at me before he closes the door. I quickly rinse off, careful not to wet my hair before trying to fix it to what it was before. I smooth down my dress and hope no one notices the difference. I decide to check the power on his phone before I head down, just to give him an update, expecting it to not be any higher than maybe 20%. But when I light the screen up, my eyebrows furrow together. It was fully charged. Why did he lie? Was it just to fuck me? I wouldn’t have cared if his phone was fully charged.

I take it from the charger and head back downstairs, sounds of laughter echoing up the stairwell. I sneak in through the back door, grabbing another bottle of wine on my way in as an excuse for taking so long. I realize I have no idea how much time I’d spent upstairs, but people were just finishing eating, so it couldn’t have been too long.

I feel eyes on me, but none more than Marcos. His eyes bore into me, hardening the longer he looks at me. He glances between Lucien and me as I hand him his phone, a look of realization settling into his features. Before I can say anything he abruptly stands up, mumbling something about a cigarette break before heading out on the back porch. A moment passes and Lucien pats his pockets, asking Claudia if she thinks Marcos will let him bum a cigarette off of him. She smiles and tells him he definitely will. Lucien gets up and excuses himself, heading out the back door to find Marcos.

Claudia keeps looking at me, her eyes narrowing but a smile forming, like she’s starting to piece together what happened. Before she can ask, I excuse myself, heading towards the backyard to find Lucien and Marcos. But when I open the door I hear raised voices coming from further in the backyard.

“You need to fucking leave, Lucien.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you give me what’s mine, Marcos.”

“It’s not yours anymore, I told you that!”

“That’s because you fucking stole it from me, asshole!”

What the hell are they talking about?

“You say stole, I say borrowed-”

“It took me forever to find you and now you don’t even have the balls to admit you stole from me?”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you!”

I hear the sound of fists landing and I close the last several steps, their fighting bodies moving into my view.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

They both stop, pushing back from each other and looking at me. Marcos tries to put on his normal charming smile, but that nagging feeling about him roars inside of me. “Hey, D.”

“Don’t hey me, Marcos. What’s going on?”

“Oh uh Lucien and I were just messing around, right?” He looks at Lucien who glares back at him.

“No. We were not. You stole from me.”

Marcos narrows his eyes. “And how could I have stolen anything from you?”

“You were my intern! You worked on my project and then you stole it to start your little start up!”

“Wait, what?” I look between them, confused.

“D, he’s crazy. He’s just some guy off the street. You don’t even know him-”

“Oh she knows me plenty.”

My jaw drops as Marcos looks between us.

“Wait…did…did you sleep with her when you went to get your phone?”

I can feel my cheeks heating up but Lucien speaks before I do. “Yeah. I did. I fucked her good. Had her screaming my name. Begging me to fuck her.”

Marcos’s mouth opens and closes, anger flashing in his eyes and I can feel tears pooling in mine, a mixture of anger and embarrassment as Lucien continues to speak.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it Marcos? To have something you want so badly taken away from you? I knew the moment I saw you look at her that you wanted her. So I fucked her first. You take something from me, I take something from you.”

Marcos stands there fuming, looking furious at Lucien, but no longer even looking my way. “You can’t just come in here-”

“I can. And I came in her too.”

SLAP!

My hand stings with the force of contact but I swallow any cry of pain. Lucien brings his hand to his cheek, turning to finally look at me, an odd expression on his face.

“D, listen. Marcos isn’t who you think he is. He-”

WHAM!

Marcos’s fist collides with Lucien’s face and he stumbles backwards. He rallies quickly, swinging for Marcos. I yell for them to stop but I may as well have been talking to the wall. The men fight, throwing themselves at each other, yelling insults that I can only halfway make out. But then Lucien pins Marcos to the ground, pounding on his face. I run up to him and grab his arm.

“Stop!”

Lucien looks at my hand on his arm and then at me before glancing down at Marcos who had just passed out. He looks back at me, his face softening as he lowers his fist, slowly standing up with a series of tiny grunts.

“D, I’m sorry, I-”

“Did you just fuck me to get back at him?”

He’s quiet for longer than I’d like, and I hate the tears that start to fall. I’m not delusional. I know nothing would come of it. I didn’t even know the guy. But a part of me had held onto some idea that maybe it was something more, could be something more.

“Not…not at the end.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He gestures to a couple of chairs. “Can I explain?”

I sit, I probably shouldn’t have but good decisions went out the window a long time ago. Lucien sits in the chair across from me, shifting his weight forward to be closer to me.

“Years ago, I hired Marcos as my intern. His name then was Juan. He helped me with my research. I had a bio tech lab and was working on some ground breaking tech. But then one day, I come in and everything is gone. He’d stolen everything, all of my years of research just gone. And then I see his face being put up as the new man to watch in all of the science and tech magazines and I see it, my tech being claimed by this imposter.” Lucien spits on Marcos’s body.

That explains the weird vibe I’d always gotten from him. He was a lying cheat.

“So what about tonight?”

“Ah. Well it had taken me years but I finally tracked him down. And every time I tried to get close, to get him to confess he would somehow weasel out of it. But then I saw him connected to a social media post about a dinner party. I hired a PI to figure out where and I..well I knocked on the door.”

“So your car?”

“Isn’t really broken down, no.”

“Your phone was fully charged.”

“It was already at 87% when I first plugged it in.”

I sit with this information for a few moments. “So what about…me?”

Lucien’s face softens as he looks at me. “Then there was you. I didn’t expect to see anyone here I actually was intrigued by, but there you were. I pushed it aside to get to Marcos but then I saw how he acted around you, the way he looked at you, the pure desire in every inch of him. So I flirted and got close. You were hot and I figured I could fuck you to make him get super pissed. But then you took your dress off so easily and I could tell you weren’t really that kind of person and I just… lost myself a bit when I was inside you. By the end, I was hating myself for using you. I…I’m sorry.”

Well. There you have it. I was right about Marcos being too charming for a reason, a reason he had now confessed to, recorded on Lucien’s phone no doubt. I’m mad, I want to hit him but I also get it. And damn was he the best fuck I’ve ever had.

I lean forward, curling my finger around the chains on his neck as I pull him closer.

“Wanna go for round 2?”

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21@gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept

#lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x f!reader #lucien flores x female reader #lucien flores #the uninvited #the uninvited ff #the uninvited fanfiction #the uninvited fanfic #lucien flores fanfic #lucien flores fic #Lucien Floires ff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal characters #lucien de leon

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stolentrekblr · 7 days ago

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Trekblr Community Reaction

I have wanted to compile reactions from the community for a while now, and today I finally made it happen. I have not editorialized anything, doing my best to copy reactions as written. Without further ado:

i love accs like this and the people behind them. the dedication to search for stuff like this and bring it home. sounds absolutely maddening and i salute them. to sift through garbage theft accs… doing the lords work

idk if i should feel honored or not, at least my username is there lol. this is very funny to me. like i dont even use facebook anymore

Omg they erased the last sentence. Lmao. I mean if you’re gonna steal my posts at least include the entire thing. It’s literally the least you could do

chat should we kill them?

OMGOD IVE MADE IT!!! this is crazy because i feel like my dad might actually see my star trek posts LMFAO. he's always on there. this is a big moment

I don't have a problem with reposts of my stuff if the watermark/username is included, but I appreciate the spirit of what you're doing

Nice sentiment but i really don't want people on facebook to have a link to my tumblr blog. thank god it's uncredited... been around a while my posts are always being stolen

The person Im thinking of flat out took OC memes from me and passed off my captions as his own. He gave me credit once from what I've seen and then the other times it looks like he made it up himself. I'm all for tossing memes out there and letting them be wild and free, but this guy twists it and uses it to beg for money on his page. He's got the lobes.

Why did they censor my pfp but not my username WHAT

damn. ig im famous now. better start lining up for autographs

People are posting me to Facebook???????

Damn... I'm not even mad about this tbh... someone thought my stupid post was good enough to steal and put on a facebook group 🤣🤣

disgusting

?!?!??!??!??!??!?!!!??!?

You know what I'm ok with Facebook enjoying this one I appreciate it being edited over them

This has never happened to me before

I honestly don’t mind seeing screen shots of my posts showing up elsewhere, it’s inevitable, but the nature of a screenshot shows the source of the post as well as the OP. But this crap is blatant plagiarism. Obviously this person is on tumblr, so I hope they see this. Please do better and have a smidgeon of integrity. Just give credit? It’s really not difficult? Thanks @stolentrekblr for the effort here.

Yooooo this is wild! Glad people like it I guess

This one ALMOST gives credit. But not quite. Could’ve just typed my handle in the post 🤷‍♀️ super easy, barely an inconvenience.

Come on... Just type "credit: *tumblr handle of the OP*" It's so easy not to be a spineless thief.

The watermark 🙄🙄

keep doing your thing op. you're like an archeologist but instead of screaming about how it belongs in a museum you are adamantly making sure people know where these things came from. i can't even fucking imagine the searching you have to do to find these posts. earlier today i couldn't find a post i had seen yesterday. keep it up!

I tracked down a post of mine that you found reposted on the data FB page, and left them a comment. "Hey look, its my post! didn't even crop out my tumblr url lmao. it was much more popular on my blog tho (1,817. notes)" They did not respond. 😒 It only got 344 reactions and 6 comments on the data page though... that page has like 38k followers... at least my posts do well when I post them myself on the Star Trek Shitposting page 🤣

I've made it. I have arrived. I got my 5 second shitpost lifted and put on another social media site, complete with a hazy photo overlay. I have won at Tumblr. I can rest now. I can rest.

Ohh yeah, this guy's a real loser. It's the WATERMARK for me 🙄

The HUBRIS!

ahh wow Ive never had a post escape containment before!! did they at least link back?

I am touched ^-^

plagiarism is the real problem. it gets worse when you see someone profit off the passions of other people in a fandom

well damn. and i'm here looking for employment...

sad to see someone else repost on fb and even watermark it. seriously what is up with the watermark over a screenshot of a tumblr post

Yeah. I think you're doing good work. I think exploitation is so baked into society that some people don't even realize when they are using the free labor of others for their own gain.

#captain to all hands #I have to break it up into multiple posts stand by #not meant to be self congratulatory by any means #literally just copy/pasted as a record #long post

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heavenlyraindrops · 9 months ago

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☆ “ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ.” | ᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ☆

☆ She said “fuck me like I’m famous” | Chapter Two

☆ Warnings: profanity, blowjobs, light grinding, part two of a series but you can read it as a stand-alone too (the only context required: they fucked once before), author!reader, reader writes smut :)

☆ Word count: 2k, Available on: Tumblr, AO3

You stared at the phone clutched in your hands, held above your face. Ken’s number on the screen.

You’d gotten it about a week ago. You hadn’t spoken to him yet.

In all fairness, that was your fault. He didn’t have your number- you’d both been so dazed it was a miracle you’d remembered to ask him yourself, simply telling him you’d call him.

You hadn’t called him.

You sighed, your arms tiring out from the strain of holding up your phone, so you rolled onto your stomach, elbows digging into your bedsheets. The screen read the time- five to nine.

You bit your lip, and pressed the call button.

It took a couple of rings for him to pick up, and when he did, the silence was so deafening you didn’t even notice.

“Hello?” You asked tentatively.

“Hey- hey!” His voice was tired, weighed down by fatigue. It made something stir in between your legs. “[name]?”

“Yeah.” You ran your tongue over your lips nervously, listening to his soft breath on the other end of the line. “I’m not- I’m not bothering you, am I?” You asked weakly. He gave a low laugh, and oh my god it sounds so fucking hot.

“No,” he murmured. “You’re not bothering me.” Your chest untightened, despite the fact you could tell he sounds like he just woke up.

“Plus,” he continued, “If I got to hear your voice I’d hardly call it something bothering me.”

You sucked in a harsh breath, but didn’t say anything, biting the inside of your cheek.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t call, you know.” You eased yourself onto your side as he spoke, pressing the phone against your ear. “So. Did you need anything, or…”

“No,” you said quickly, then froze up, wondering if it came out wrong. “N-no, I mean, I just wanted to wish you… good luck on your game tomorrow.” You buried your face half into the pillow, wrapping an arm around it. “You probably don’t need it, but…”

A few seconds of silence ticked by, and you wondered if you had angered him, when he spoke up again, voice still hoarse with sleep and now seemingly laced with something else you couldn’t- could have deciphered. But you pushed the thought away from your brain.

“You wanted to wish me good luck?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

Your eyes became half lidded, as excitement raced through you. “Yeah,” you mumbled, lips still pressed against the soft fabric of your pillow cover.

“And you think I don’t need it.”

You hummed softly. “You’re a good player.”

He paused, amused. “I was under the impression you know nothing about baseball.”

You frowned. “Well, I’m not, just, like, saying it.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know.”

Your face suddenly grew hot, and not just at the nickname. Instead of insinuating you were just saying whatever came to mind to flatter him- was he implying that you specifically researched stuff for him? Or that maybe it was just him that you looked up?

Well, he was right. But that was far beyond the point.

“All I’m saying is that you’re a good player. You got a problem?” Your tone didn’t match your words at all.

“Nah… I actually quite like it when you compliment me. Go on, do it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. “You’re good at baseball.”

“That’s right. And what else am I good at?”

You froze, muscles tensing up, then fell back face first into your bed, buzzing with embarrassment. “Don’t push it, Ken,” you mumbled, face burning.

He laughed again, slightly breathless this time, and you pulled your hand up and trapped it under your chest to stop it from sliding down below your waist. “Tell you what, sweetheart. If you wanted to wish me good luck so badly you called me while I was asleep, late at night-“

Your chest tightened with anxiety.

“-maybe you should come over and wish me good luck personally.”

You immediately shot up out of bed, heart hammering in your chest as you stared at the screen. “Y-yeah?”

“If you’re down.” His voice suddenly sounded slightly nervous.

“Oh, I’m down.”

“Great. I’ll see you th-“

You immediately cut the call.

You kicked the covers off of your legs, hands searching blindly for your keys as you pulled on a hoodie. A notification popped up on your phone- his number, a single text message, and address.

Oh, Lord, thank you for forcing me to go outside and undergo true human interaction that fateful evening.

“Hey.”

You stood outside his door, face flushed from the cold and shivering with your hands buried in your pockets. He looked you up and down.

“You got here fast,” he murmured, and you shrugged nervously.

“Excited to see you,” you tried, and he laughed, hand reaching out, fingers curling around your wrist and pulling you inside, up against him for a split second before he moved away, much to your disappointment.

“Get comfortable,” he said, flicking his head at the couch. You pushed your fists back in your pockets, following him over, where he flopped down, tipping his head back. You went to sit next to him but he grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap.

You let out a sharp breath. “What are you doing.”

“Helping you get comfortable,” he said nonchalantly, slipping his digits in between yours, kissing your fingertips. A shiver shot up your spine, and he tilted his head. “You know what? Let’s talk.”

“Talk?” You echoed.

“Yeah, get to know each other better.”

“We got to know each other at the dinner,” you pointed out, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and after that too, right?” He remarked. Your face slowly turned red, making him grin. “And I said better, baby.”

“Fine, better. What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Just ask me a question.”

“Fine.” You thought hard, but with him pressed up against you, hands on your thighs, it was hard for you to think clearly. “How’d you get into baseball?”

He tilted his head. “It made my parents happy watching it, so I thought…” He looked down, and smiled softly. “I thought, if I could do that, if it would make them cheer like they-“ he sighed, cutting off his sentence. “Then I’d have to. You know?” His thumbs were rubbing circles into your skin.

You leaned over, running your hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “That’s… sweet, actually.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you think it wasn’t gonna be?”

“Considering how you act-“ you jabbed him in the chest, and he smirked. “-no.”

“How exactly do I act?”

You paused, then frowned. “I don’t know, confident?”

His hand went from your thigh to your hip. “What’s wrong with that?”

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.” His fingers dug into your skin. “So, why’d you become an author?”

You swallowed. “I like stories.”

He laughed. “Is that it?”

You smacked his chest. “Obviously there’s more. I’m just not good with words.”

“You’d think, being an author…”

“Whatever!”

“Don’t you work with words for a living?”

You stayed silent for a moment, then sighed. “I started daydreaming a lot when I was younger. I figured, if I could put those dreams down on paper, like other authors did, bring them to life, make people feel things-“ you shrugged, embarrassed. “Look, I don’t know. It just started with a massive maladaptive daydreaming problem.”

“Right.” He hummed, fingers splaying across your skin, creeping under the hem of your top. “For the record, I think that’s sweet too, you know.”

Your other hand was still buried in his hair. “Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling his breath on your lips.

“Maybe I should read one of your books some time. They’re really popular, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, then your eyes suddenly widened. “No way. No, you’re not reading them.”

He laughed, amused. “Why not? What’s stopping me?”

You glared at him.

“What did you say you write?” He continued. “Romance?”

Your face burned as you quickly looked away. “It’s not just that, okay?”

He hummed, eyes fixed on your collarbone, a few faded, barely-visible bruises. “Right. You ever include, like, sexual stuff in your novels?”

You almost shot out of his lap and threw yourself out the window right then and there. “Huh?” You spluttered. “What do you mean?” Yes, yes I do.

“Like, smut, or whatever it’s called. You write that?”

“How’s that relevant?” Your voice was slowly rising in pitch, and he smirked.

“Nothing, just wondering why you don't want me to read your stuff so badly. Plus, I could figure out what you like.” He tapped his finger against your side, and you swallowed.

“I’d probably like anything you do,” you laughed, albeit breathlessly. He raised an eyebrow.

“Or you can tell me.”

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. He smirked, a subtle roll of his hips making him grind up against you not going unnoticed. You sucked in a harsh breath.

“I bet you write down every little fantasy you have onto that paper, yeah?”

“I type it,” you retorted, albeit breathless as your body responded to his touch, involuntarily bucking your hips. His grip on them tightened, holding you in place as he clicked his tongue.

“So you do write that sort of stuff.”

You bit your cheek to smother a whimper, instead worming your hand down to palm his growing bulge. His breath hitched visibly, a muscle in his neck tightening as you stroked gently.

“Maybe,” you breathed, eyes glittering.

Getting off of him, you sank to your knees, nestling yourself in between his legs. You pressed a kiss to the tented fabric, making him tense up underneath. “Now, you want me to ‘wish you good luck personally’ or not?”

Your hand unzipped his trousers, and you could feel him holding in a breath as you pulled his length from his boxers- throbbing, a pearl of precum on the tip. You could feel your saliva gathering in your mouth as you swiped your thumb across it, making him flinch and almost buck up into your hands.

“You know,” he said, voice wavering. “Maybe I’ll win the game from this alo-“ he cut off with a light groan, lips falling open and head tipping back as you pressed your lips to the tip, tongue flicking out in tentative kitten licks. You locked your eyes onto his as you dragged your lips down to his base, licking a long strip up his shaft. “Oh, fuck.”

You hummed, and he shuddered as your tongue languidly traced a vein, his eyes lidded as his hand came to bury itself in your hair.

Another curse, alongside your name, fell past his lips as you wrapped your lips around his head properly this time, trying to take in as much of him as possible. It hit the back of your throat, which tightened, tears springing to your eyes.

“Oh yeah baby, just like that,” he breathed, voice shaky as you bobbed your head up and down, hips bucking needily against you as he collapsed into a few groans and murmured praises. His grip on your hair tightened. “Fuck [name] I think I’m going to cu-“

You simply hummed in response, vibrations running down his shaft and making him twitch, eyes innocent and wide-eyed, a betrayal of your lewd position.

The look alone was enough to tip him over the edge, and his fingers curled around your locks, yanking your head away from him as he shook, his cum dripping down his length. You reached for the box of tissues on the table.

After cleaning up, he looked down at you, and frowned. You tilted your head. “What?”

“You have a little…” cupping your face in both hands, he pulled it to his, tongue darting out to lick up a trickle of saliva that had escaped the corner of your mouth. It made you burn with desire, and you turned slightly to press his lips against yours.

“Good luck,” you whispered against him, and he pressed back in, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

“After I win,” he breathed, “I’m taking you on a proper date.”

You flushed. He pulled away, your chin in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him.

“And that’s a promise.”

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