#i never wanted to be a spokesperson for this

[oh-no-its-bird]

Fic where the unjust death of the Uchiha and the subsequent horrific abuse to their bodies via blatant and indiscriminant eye theft results in Konoha being haunted by the spirits of several very angry Uchiha.

"You know... They say that so long as an Uchiha's eyes do not rest in their body, their spirit will never find peace."

When the husk of a woman who used to be Mikoto smiles, there is blood in her teeth.

"What do you think, Elder Danzo?"

Ft.

- Sasuke being repeatedly lured into the woods by the ghosts of his family (and notably, his parents) both bc some want to protect him and some, not powerful enough to retain their sanity in death, wish for him to die so they might take their eyes as their own

- Nara Shikaku, among others in the Hokage's tower, being repeatedly faced with the unsettlingly eyeless ghost of Fugaku as he appears sporadically and attempting to act as if nothing is wrong— always dissapearing when someone questions how he is there (whether he truly seems to keep forgetting that he has died is unclear, but no methods to purge the offices seems able to keep him away for long)

- the spirit of Mikoto taking on a spokesperson role for the dead, as she seems to have been the one to retain the most of herself in death while plagued with the corruptive everything that comes with being a spirit tied to the earth through nefarious means (with Fugaku being a potential second— if he wasn't so busy w convincing himself he hadn't died at all)

- Danzo being haunted by the more mindlessly violent Uchiha ghosts, driven mad in the afterlife at seeing their eyes in his unworthy flesh

- A surprisingly sane Kagami who has Thoughts and Feelings ab Danzo taking his eye— and the mystery of how exactly he had died

- A suddenly the most qualified person to deal with ghosts Kakashi, who's unfortunatley doomed both attract and to be able to see the Uchiha ghosts with his sharingan, and has them breathing down the back of his neck with talk of watching after Sasuke and GETTING REVENGE !!!!!!!!!!!!! which he is legally obligated to do now as the elder ghosts deem his service as their conduit to be his duty, since they gave him a pass on the eye thing. There's a lot of "see I TOLD you it was a good idea to let him keep the eye!! Clearly Amaterasu has left him here for us to use in our darkest of hours"

Aka forcefully adopted by Uchiha ghosts Kakashi who's "adoption" reads a little more like "indentured servitude to the afterlife"

(And he can't help but wonder why he hasn't seen Obito's ghost, after so many years with his eye in his head...

- Itachi being absoloutley hounded by the guilt of what hes done and the spirits of those hes killed, whove left the haunting of Konoha specifically to haunt him (He is not having fun) (The ghost of Shisui is doing his best to ward away the more volatile ones)

And more !!! Potentially, idk. This would be a fun one if I wrote it but I will not. Someone totally should tho , just, not me.

[martyrbat]

ok sure you don't believe in god or the church anymore but what are you doing to unlearn the propaganda you wre taught? what are you doing to educate yourself about marginalized groups that the church attacked and that you absorbed subconsciously? how are you challenging your viewpoints on things such as addiction, sexuality, poverty, other religions, disabilities, illness, race, and more without it being through a christian lens? are you careful to not spread propaganda or harmful ideologies? youre ‘reclaiming’ shit for your poetry and healing and thats great i guess, i wish you the best, but what have you actually renounced?

[genderqueerdykes]

as an intersex trans wo/man, i've noticed that unfortunately it has become painfully obvious that not only do radfems and terfs try to abuse trans men into falling in line with their beliefs, but unfortunately, this happens to trans women and transfemmes as well. i've unfortunately seen several trans women fall down the the "men evil, women innocent, trans men have cis male privilege, trans men don't struggle, trans men aren't men or trans they're just confused butches," pipeline really quickly after transitioning or their eggs cracking, and it's not necessarily that transfem's fault, but rather an abusive person sweeping in to take advantage of someone who needs and wants validation in feeling like a woman. the person who put the terf ideals in their head during this crucial stage in development is to blame, it is not inherently the trans woman's fault.

vulnerable transfems and trans women become indoctrinated into these things. trans women and fems are not inherently bitter, shitty, hateful people. it's a select few who become groomed by radfems who push this belief, and push it hard, because that's what you do when youve been indoctrinated into a cult. it's not an issue inherent to trans women and transfeminism at all- it's vulnerable people being groomed. this is a serious issue of trans women and fems being groomed and brainwashed.

this is a huge deal and we have to stand up for each other, because the transfems getting groomed into this need support and help to get out of this cult. it is not okay for women who are just trying to find their footing to almost instantly get sucked up into a literal hate group. we have to help trans people who become indoctrinated into gender essentialism, antimasculism, and transandrophobia just as much as we help other trans people unlearn transmisogyny. these issues are both damaging our community on the whole.

radfems are aggressive and will try to indoctrinate anyone they can into antimasculism, transandrophobia, and gender essentialism. a lot of trans women in the early stages of transition really want to be validated as women and such, will become groomed by these groups of cis women who will gladly feed them toxic ideals like women can never be wrong, women are always innocent, men are always harmful and evil, it just benefits the radfems, not the trans woman. this behavior grooms yet another person into spreading radfeminism without realizing it. when one espouses these beliefs they become a spokesperson for radfeminism and terfism

i'm plain tired of seeing this argument, because it is nothing but gender essentialist binarist bullshit:

"transphobia is worse for trans women than trans men because of x, y, z."

its not worse. its different. but equal.

i understand that many folks have not lived the life a trans man leads, but whenever you try to speculate on what it's like, you will always be wrong, no matter what, because you weren't in that person's shoes. it's impossible to see the nitty gritty of how a specific group of people are treated unless you are that person or spend lots of time around large groups of those types of people. trans men face homelessness at a disproportionately high rate compared to other groups of queer folk. we also deal with forced detransition. we deal with being dehumanized by she/her pronouns. we deal with having lesbianism and butchness weaponized against us. we also deal with sexual violence. we also deal with physical, mental, and emotional abuse. we deal with gaslighting, lying, being robbed, abandoned, injured and killed. its virtually impossible to find support if you're a pregnant trans man.

trans men have a lot of unique struggles. this is not a comprehensive list, but rather to show you that ALL trans people struggle. we are united under the same banner of transphobic treatment. we are struggling, but we are struggling together, and we can uplift each other without tearing each other down. punching down on another trans person hurts us all.

belittling the trauma of other trans people is a form of queer infighting that terfs want you to do in order to fracture our community further. queer infighting doesn't help anyone whatsoever. trans men do not have it harder than trans women. trans women do not have it harder than trans men. amab and afab and intersex enbies don't have it worse than each other. these are all completely different and unique struggles that deserve to be acknowledged for what they are. you cannot use the same scale of severity for a totally different problem.

people love to completely gloss over the issues trans men face for the sake of believing that all men benefit from patriarchy. saying that trans men are not affected by specific kinds of transphobia is spreading the radfem belief that only women struggle under patriarchy. queer men, men of color, intersex men, gay men, bisexual men, trans men, polyamorous men, genderfluid men, bigender men, gender non conforming men, feminine men, men who crossdress, disabled men, neurodivergent men, mentally ill men, and other marginalized men suffer under patriarchy as well.

i'm not tolerating radfem gender essentialism being woven into queer ideals anymore. this behavior has to go. when you genuinely believe these things, we all lose.

[paymechildsupport]

Doppel!GOJO x Reader // "Looks Satoru Enough.." [JJK x TNMN crossover au] 🥛🔵

---

PROMPTS (combined):

"so what about gojo but hes a doppelganger like the milkman. and basically (afab) reader is his girlfriend and doppelganger gojo pretty much is obsessed with reader. so then one day reader finds out and doppelganger gojo is pretty much just scared but all reader cares about is if he loves her. and so he basically confirms that he loves her and is obsessed with her, and then from that point on just smut....

"doppelganger Satoru who tricks you into letting him inside. But once he's in he doesn't care about killing the neighbours he just wants to fuck you and give you all his cum milk. If you're feeling extra down bad maybe some breeding kink 😊(ofc he's the milkman in this)"

---------------

>> @maskedpacific @sadmonke hope I did your prompts justice, a lot of it was winged 😋🥛

JJK TNMN au: all the characters of JJK just in TNMN

-!! Monsterfucking ; oral sex ; overstim(?) ; he has a really long tongue

-!! No pronouns, -- genetalia is referred to as a "hole" -- so creative reading freedom

——— 

Doppel!Gojo who assumed the identity of your pretty boyfriend after devouring his decaying corpse behind a back alleyway,— his first and only thought of entering the complex, your complex 

Doppel!Gojo who for months beforehand could only admire you from afar, confined to the shadows. He could look, but he could not touch. He’d glare in envy as his parallel self continued about his normal life,— milkman everyday, delivering your neighbors with their daily supply of dairy. His company slogan: “The Strongest”, because milk made your bones nice and strong (you see what I did there? You see the pun? Yeah.. okay, I’ll stop 😔). 

He was your boyfriend,— yet he’d never look at you. You’d simply be off to the side, smiling, forced to observe as you the frustratingly cocky real Satoru Gojo borderlined flirted with your other neighbors. He didn’t even touch you anymore,— so busy socializing, working- stuck in that silly little head of his,— every night your neglected body would have to sleep in a cold bed. 

The real Gojo also happened to be the strongest DDD agent out there, — the best of the best— ; when he wasn’t the milkman he was out slaughtering those wretched doppelgängers trying to claw into everyday human life. Single-handedly, he’d manage to keep your specific complex completely Doppel free for the past decade. You often wondered if you’d all survive a day without his protection. He had such a keen eye, always knowing a fake when he saw one. Yet another thing keeping him busy: he’s the strongest, he’s suppose to protect everyone,— and you were just his lover,— no, side piece. 

Doppel!Gojo knew he could do better, knew he could treat you like you deserve. If— no, when — he stole the real Gojo’s life his one and only priority would be to shower you in the love and affection you so deserved. He was by far the most advanced of his kind, an almost exact replica,— having all the same defining features as the original: snowy hair, bright blue eyes,— though slightly eerier than the original pair,— and that same cocky, lopsided smirk.

You’d started to branch out, seeing as your ‘boyfriend’ clearly had more important issues— he just wasn’t ready for a relationship,— you being the biggest victim of his inflated ego. Too proud to let you go, but too self conscious to properly stand by your side 

So, you’d often talk to the other residents of the complex: Nanami— a spokesperson, and Shoko— the surgeon, have quickly become your newest buddies. 

Doppel!Gojo knew you like the back of his charred, clawed hand— the only differentiating key feature,- a staple of all doppelgängers. Covering them with the gloves of Gojo’s milkman uniform was easy enough. He had spent ages observing from afar, admiring,- adoring,- practically drooling everytime you’d double take in an alleyway when you swore you heard a noise behind you. He could watch you for eternity, looking inside of your apartment through an open window, cock erect and unbelievably hard in the confines of those mortal pants. 

Doppel!Gojo has been patient, and now that it’s finally his turn, the only thing on his mind is getting your perfect body spread on his bed, fully bare and naked for him to feast upon. 

With the “strongest” dead, it would take practically nothing for the doppelgängers to break in and overrun the place,— but all he did was slaughter whatever doppelgänger crossed his path on his way to your room. Practically breaking the door down, you had no time to react before your boyfriend slammed you against the wall, mouth open in a small “o” as he began feasting.

---

“S—Satoru.?” it’s been forever since your voice pitched like that, syllables squeaking from the overdose of pleasure between your thighs

“Mmm?” the snowy white of his head lifts up momentarily from your thighs, blue eyes blinking innocently. He hums, playing with the elastic of your panties, pulling and slapping them against your thigh, “s’mthing you need, baby?” 

“I.. *hic*” sparks fly through your system as his warm tongue presses against the growing wet spot of your underwear, throwing your head back, “AH– .. *hic*. n-..no-” 

He smiles, all teeth, and you can’t help but feel like prey the way he eyes you; hungry, – starving, even. 

“Hmm.. if you say so,” 

You gasp as he tears your panties off, the cold air slapping you. He licks his lips, an animalistic urge overtaking him as he dips down between your legs. 

You're stuck wide eyed, only able to watch as his snowy head bobs up and down, tongue suddenly grazing your entrance. 

“S-SATORU– .. G-GAhh.. ngha~.” You mewl, pleasure curling through your body as he curls his tongue, flicking it just in the opening, almost exactly where you need him, “c-CAReful, – Sato..- aa OOh~” he takes long, full strokes with his tongue, the muscle slipping right into your slick hole. He groans at the taste of you, sloppily twisting his tongue inside. You buck your hips, fucking his tongue into you, squealing at the way he slobbers. His lips grace your ass, practically making out with the lips of your soaked folds. You can’t even question how he’s still breathing, being suffocated between your thighs, – nor why his tongue is so inhumanly long, hitting deeper than what even any human cock should, – not when he fucks you with it so good. 

Sharp blades pierce the meat of your legs, causing you to shriek, the pain immediately drowning in the immense waves of pleasure racking through your body. ‘Satoru’ grips you, spreading your plush ass further while his tongue digs absurdly deep inside you. Your insides are coated in his saliva, the warm, strong muscle of his tongue finally hitting your pelvis, – and you come hard. 

He eagerly laps you up, drinking from you like you were the finest of wines. 

“God.. you taste.. Heavenly” 

You can only shake violently as his tongue retracts from your inside, done invading your organs. Thick, heavy sobs rack your entire body, thick coils of pure pleasure tighten, wanting more. 

A predatory smile donning his features, ‘Satoru’ licks his chops like a dog eyeing a particularly tasty treat. Hastily ripping off his tie and peeling away his clothing, ‘Satoru’ eases your body onto the living room couch, spreading you out perfectly for him before lowering himself on top of you. 

You grab his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands. He’s practically glowing, pale, milky skin soft underneath your fingers. His blue eyes bore deeply into yours, absolutely stealing what little breath you had left away. 

You should ask what the hell that was, who fuck, – or rather, – what the fuck was he, and what’d he do to your cold-shouldered boyfriend. 

But as you gaze into those sapphire windows, you can only whisper; 

“Do you still love me..?” voice soft and thick with the tears choking your throat. 

‘Satoru’ brings is blackened claw to your face, long, agile fingers wiping away your tears, 

“Of course I do… I love you more than everything, – more than you could possibly imagine.” (not like he was wrong)

You smile softly, body too weak to lift itself up to kiss him. 

He brings his lips to yours, and you kiss him back. 

Looks Satoru enough. --

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

milk. 🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

[ggidolsmuts]

Our Love Language is Sex - ITZY Ryujin

"Woojin sunbae, I think I like you..."

No Ryujin, what are you doing? You told her to tell him how she felt, not tell him how she felt in front of everyone else! You can't see her expression from behind, but the sunbae's lip lifts to one side in disgust.

"What? Ew, no. Sorry Ryujin." His tone was anything but sorry.

"Damn, I'm jealous bro." One of his mates said.

"Yeah? You can have her then, how about it Ryujin?" The way the love of her young life offers her away so easily shatters her heart, and she sniffles and runs. His words as she leaves rings in her ear, stinging her as she leaves.

"Guess not, sorry bro." You hurry to catch up to her, finding her crying in a classroom. Quietly you slide the door open and close it behind you.

"Ryujin... You okay?"

"Obviously, fucking, not!" She turns to face you, her sadness stained with anger. "It's all your fault!"

"My fault?"

"You said to tell him how I felt!"

"Yeah, but not in front of everyone! Find a private spot or something, like here!"

"You should have said that then!" Ryujin shouts back at you, landing a punch on your chest. "How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought you would have some sense! Fuck you're thick sometimes."

"Fine I'm thick, just go and fuck off then!" Your back hits the wall as she pushes you away. Damn it, you were here to comfort her, not get angry at her!

"Ryujin that's not what I meant."

"I don't care! I don't want to see you!"

"Come on Ryujin." You grab her wrist, and she flings her arm to get you off, catching you in the face.

"Oh shit, I'm— I'm telling you to go away!" she shouts. Her blood runs cold looking at your stunned expression. She should have apologized, why didn't she apologize! "I mean I'm—"

"I get it, I'm sorry I came." You turn around and exit the classroom, slamming the door shut.

-----

You barely speak to Ryujin in school after, and you graduate and move on with your life just like she has. 

Until today.

You knew your company was engaging ITZY as a spokesperson for their products, and you saw their commercials pop up in your office sometimes, but you never expected to see them in your office.

"All in us, we are ITZY! Thanks for having us!" Your coworkers cheer and clap. The members proceed to introduce themselves.

"Hello, I'm Ryujin, nice to meet everyone!" You blink and confirm what, or rather who you are seeing—not just ITZY's Ryujin, but the Ryujin who you went to school with all those years ago. You had heard that she became a trainee, but you never made the connection, that ITZY's Ryujin and your Ryujin were one and the same. Her appearance on the commercials and posters seemed familiar, but you never gave it much thought.

Ryujin scans the crowd, used to the wall of phones staring right back at her. Oddly enough, someone is watching without their phone up—maybe he doesn't know who they are. He's staring right at her, through her, and the face is suddenly familiar.

No way.

Your gaze catches Ryujin's, and her eyes widen in recogniztion, mouth opening slightly, as if to call out. Hurriedly you nod and bow slightly, and Ryujin gives a small nod in return, a puzzled expression briefly on her face before she quickly goes back to being a professional idol and smiling for the cameras.

After sweeping the room with a smile, Ryujin looks back to where he stood just a moment ago, only to find him gone. That was surely him! She scans the crowd of office workers, but everyone else has a phone up. Where did he go? The rest of the schedule goes as normal—a couple of office workers ask her to sign a few personal items, but not him.

"Manager oppa, let me use the washroom real quick."

"Sure, we'll wait in the lobby."

A few hurried steps—where did he go, he can't have gone far!

"Ryujin-ssi, are you looking for something?"

"Yes I—" She interrupts herself, hearing his name behind her.

"Hey, you just missed out on ITZY, can you believe they were here?! Whoa!" Ryujin surprises both you and and your fanboying co-worker. "Oh my god hello!"

"Ah yes, hello!" She greets him nicely before bringing her gaze to you. "Hey."

"Oh, yeah umm, hey. It's been a while."

"Mmhmm."

"Wait, you know him Ryujin-ssi?"

"Yeah, we were classmates, if you could excuse us."

"Oh, of course! Would you mind signing this—" Ryujin grabs his notebook and signs it quickly, and you get a jovial and envious nudge from your co-worker before you are left alone with her.

"How have you been?" Ryujin asks softly.

"Good," you reply succintly. Never has a single word so poorly summarized your life since that moment years ago. Suddenly you had no one to gossip with, no one to share secrets with, no one to veg out with on slow weekend afternoons.

----- 

"If you think about it, clouds are just leaky water balloons." Ryujin mutters as she lays next to you.

"What? That makes no sense." You shoot back.

"Just like you having a crush on that girl, Jisoo? What do you even see in her?"

"Oh, so now we're back on that? She seems nice, and she's cute!"

"Aish, I just don't like her. And since when did you like cute? You hated my aegyo, what if Woojin oppa likes it?"

"Him?" All he wants is to get with you! You couldn't bring yourself to say that. "He likes the sexy style. Guys are all perverts."

"Just like you right? I know you go mad at any girl who shakes her hips hmm? Anyways I'm sure Woojin oppa is different! If I'm sincere he'll feel it!"

"Yeah sure, go try that if you want." Sometimes you're so naive! You didn't add.

"Fine I will, hmph!"

-----

"How about you? Your group's doing well." he asks her. How was it for her, Ryujin thinks to herself... And seeing him for the first time in years, she remembers it sucked.

-----

"Ryujin, are you okay? Should I let the teacher know you can't do the trainee evaluation tomorrow?"

"Yes Yeji-unnie, it's just a cold, I can do the evaluation tomorrow, I have to," she manages to suppress a sniffle from beneath the covers. She pulls out the phone she hid inside her pillowcase, careful to not let any light leak out into the room. Her thumbs work on muscle memory—she needs to talk to someone. It stops at a familiar name, but it belongs to someone she could no longer talk to. Ryujin's lips quiver—it has been weeks since then, and he hasn't even reached out once! Yet she couldn't bring herself to be the one to reach out. She taps the phone against her forehead and hides a sob with a sniffle.

"Do you want some medicine?"

"No, I'm okay, thank you unnie, good night!"

"If you say so, good night."

Ryujin turns the phone off and slides it back under her pillow.

Just one message from you...

-----

"Yeah, it's all thanks to our fans."

"Nice, congratulations."

"Hmm? What for?"

"I dunno, I see ITZY winning a lot of stuff, I guess? I just never realized it was you, you look pre— I mean, your hair is very different now."

What was that? "O-Oh, yes, idol hairstyles, you know how it is." No of course he doesn't! Ryujin berates herself.

"Right..." There is an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of a manager or bodyguard calling out for her. "You should go, good to see you though."

"Yeah, yeah." Ryujin takes a quick peek around the corner and winces. "Hey, give me your phone!" You hand her your device, and she does a few quick taps.

"Ryujin-ssi?" A burly voice calls out.

"Yes I'm coming! Sorry I couldn't find the washroom!" She hurriedly calls out before returning you your phone. "Thanks, bye!" She disappears from sight around the corner, sounding all apologetic to the voice as they grow more distant.

You look down at your phone, it is a text to an unknown number, but clearly addressed to you.

*That's my number, I'll message you*

The old you would not have recognized the current you, going to your phone immediately when you hear it buzz, like you were a technology-addicted teenager once more. It had been months since you met Ryujin again, and things have been mending silently and slowly. She would text you, you would text back. You would see her group win one award or another, you would text her, and she would text back, albeit heavily delayed. Without seeing her in person, it is easy to forget what had happened between the two of you, and you are just glad to be messaging your old friend again. That is, until you see the current message buzzing on your phone.

*Hey, are you free for a coffee?*

You are in a cafe a few days later, one of the few still open late at night. You sit down across someone trying to be anonymous, donning a mask, cap, and a hoodie over all that. But you know she's Ryujin.

"Hey, at least take the mask off, do you know how much you stand out, someone who's wearing a mask, sitting in a cafe?"

"I was just waiting for you."

"Sure. What do you want, I'll go order."

"Just the usual—" Ryujin freezes. It has been so long, and yet reflexively she tosses out her order, like they are just doing a study session at a cafe near school instead, all those years ago.

"Sure." She stares at him walking away, and a thought strikes her—is he still the same?

The answer arrives along with her coffee as you sit down across from her, one arm across your chest, the other occupied with drinking coffee, one leg perched and crossed—defensive, guarded, cold.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I-I just wanted to catch up. It's been so long since we talked."

"And whose fault is that?" A chill goes down her spine, and it wasn't from the ice in her drink—it would not be a jovial reunion. Ryujin tries to keep it light.

"Are you still on about that? Come on, that was so long ago."

"Oh, so at least you haven't forgotten about it, I guess that's good." Each word is a heavy blow on her heart. "So why did you ask me here?"

"I was just wondering how you've been—"

"Now that you've remembered I exist? But never thought to reach out before that hmm? I should send my thanks to JYP for signing that deal."

"What? You could have reached out too!" Ryujin already felt guilty, and now she felt stung too by your barbs.

"Yes, but I didn't, because you asked me not to! You told me to go away." you hiss back. "And now that you want to talk to me again, you just reach out to me like nothing has happened?"

"What was I supposed to do? I was busy with being a trainee! I'm sorry okay? I should have said that then."

"Well you can stay busy being an idol then!" You jerk your head in self-annoyance—you were a little too loud, and people turn to look, making Ryujin tilt her head lower. "Come on, let's go." She nods and follows you out the door.

"I'm really sorry, I should have said that right after I hit you. I was just happy to see you again, I didn't think about how you felt."

"I'm... not unhappy to see you again, but I don't know if I can handle meeting you like nothing has happened."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing, just give me time, it's one thing to text someone on the phone, it's another to see them again."

"How much time do you need?"

"Hopefully less than a few years—" you catch your own snide remark as you hear Ryujin sniffle, and it wasn't that cold out. "Sorry, that was low, I don't know."

"At least you said it right away," Ryujin bitterly jokes to herself. You shrug and pat her on her shoulder in goodbye.

"Good luck on your comeback."

After a long while Ryujin takes a sip of her bitter coffee, except now it is salty. How did it all go so wrong, how was she so completely off?

Ryujin drowns herself in her work, proving his words right as she stays busy being an idol. Every so often her members catch a small smile before the sides of her lips flatten out—she still exchanged messages with him, but they were more iced Americano than hot chocolate. Many times she debated just sending a message, asking him if they could meet, but fearful of rejection, she could never bring herself to.

"What's up?" Yeji asks, sitting down next to her. "You keep smiling and then frowning at your phone."

"You know that guy I met at that event? The one I said I knew from school?"

"Yeah, at that company thing? You said you were close friends."

"We were, but I did something back then, and now we're not close anymore." She spills her history with him to Yeji.

"That's it? I mean, if he's still holding a grudge then fuck him."

"Yeah but, he's not wrong. We were close, I hit him, and I never even said sorry until now."

"You did say sorry this time right?"

"Yes, he said he needed time."

"Just give him time then, he has his life, if he wants you back in his life, then he'll let you know. Or if you want him back in yours, just reach out and ask, you don't know if you don't ask. But it's not like he has been a part of yours for years now right?"

"I guess."

"Exactly, at least you're texting with him now, he hasn't ghosted you, that should count for something!"

"No you're right, you're right, thanks unnie." Ryujin steels herself as Yeji leaves her room. She can do this, it's just one text, she's not asking him out on a date, she just wants to catch up! Maybe she can ask him out for drinks, maybe with other people around so that it won't get awkward, she can do that! But... maybe next week! First she has to look up when the next company hweshik is, yes, the message can wait.

"Hey, say hi, this is my old friend, I've known him since forever!" Ryujin introduces you to her group, pushing you down between two of her members before sitting down opposite you. Introductions go around, and you recognize the two members next to you as Yeji and Chaeryeong. Food and drinks arrive, although it seems like Ryujin is the only one drinking, and the atmosphere remains awkward—when Ryujin asked to catch up over drinks you assumed it would be a quiet thing, and certainly not in a group setting.

"Yah, don't try to be an idol around him and just take little sips, he's seen me do stupid stuff before, just drink!" Yeji and Chaeryeong start off slow, but soon they begin to take swigs, and you begin to do the same, and as the alcohol begins to flow, so does the conversation.

"So what was Ryujin like in school? Did she study at all, I bet she didn't!" Chaeryeong jokes.

"No no, she did study, she studied my homework." You joke, to raucous laughter from the ITZY members and staff.

"No I didn't, I even did better than you on exams!" But of course, no one listens to her. She is mollified after some placating from her members and more food on her plate, and the conversation flows on until the inevitable question.

"So, who's your favorite member in ITZY?" Chaeryeong asks, giggles bubbling out of her. It sparks a titter around you.

"Yah that's so boring!" "You're just saying that because you won't win!" "You're just saying that because he knows you!" "Says the one who spent 15 minutes choosing an outfit!" "Says the one who spent 30 minutes on make up today!" Ryujin blushes at the last comment—did she really spend 30 minutes on makeup today?

You save her the embarrassment by calming them down.

"I'll be honest, it's very nice to meet all of you, but I don't really know enough about any of you? So I guess all of you are my favorites?"

"Boo, cop out, drink! What if you had to choose? Like, I'll pay for your dinner today if you choose."

"Yeji unnie, don't make him pay for his dinner today! I'll cover you." Ryujin hastily butts in.

"Sure sure, I'll buy a second round of drinks if you choose." Ryujin makes to say something, but ultimately she has no retort and waits with the rest of them.

"I guess... since I know her the best, I'll go with Ryujin?" She pumps her fist, and rewards you with a healthy serving of grilled meat.

"Psh, wow, you gave the default answer. What if Ryujin isn't a choice, or who would be number two?"

"I guess number two would be—" your answer is drowned out by a roar as you see JYP the man himself, get on top of a table and start dancing, complete with plastic table sheet around his waist. The rest of the dinner and drinks flyby, and soon it is time to leave.

"It's nice to meet you all—" you start, but Ryujin cuts you off and throws an arm over your shoulder.

"No no, we're going to go for a round two, we need to catch up!"

"You can't Ryujin! We should go back home."

"No! I want a round two!" She yells, more than a little tipsy.

"You can't be seen in public like this!"

"I'll just drink at his house then!" She jerks a thumb in your direction. Their manager protests against it, and Ryujin yells back, but ultimately Yeji steps in.

"It's fine manager oppa, just let them catch up." After gently pushing the manager away Yeji turns to you. "Just go straight home with her okay? Take a taxi, make sure you two don't drink in public, and remind her to take a taxi back."

"Got it, I'll make sure she stays out of trouble." With that you half-walk and half-lurch with Ryujin into the back of a cab and back to your place. You open the door and Ryujin makes herself at home.

"Wow, living by yourself and everything, you've made it!"

"At least take your shoes off Ryujin!" They thud on your floor.

"Surely you have beer right?"

"Yeah, but all you get is one can."

"Cheapskate!"

"Fine, two cans." You grab four cans and sit down opposite her, and as you do so the alcohol suddenly hits you—you must have had more than you realized.

"Yah, so really, who would you choose from our members? Who's your favorite?" Ryujin asks him.

"What? How are you still on that?"

"Would you really choose me?" She persists, pestering and provoking you for an answer. She scoots herself closer. "Am I your favorite, am I the prettiest?"

"Well you did spend 30 minutes on makeup, so I guess?"

"Really? Awwww!" Ryujin clings on to him tightly.

"God of course you're a clingy drunk!" You try to break out of the embrace, but unfortunately you pause when you see Ryujin close up—she really is pretty tonight. Silently the two of you stare at one another, dual gazes dueling.

"Hey, you ever think... that we should have gotten together?" Ryujin whispers.

"What?"

"We had to deal with so many rumors back then, remember? Everyone thought we were dating."

"Idiots, all of them."

"You never considered it? I have..." She's an inch from you, maybe not even that. "I would have—" Ryujin crumples in your arms and passes out.

-----

"Argh, the girls are all saying I'm going out with you!"

"So?"

"Well we're not!"

"Exactly, so who cares?" You shrug and return to your video game.

"Me!"

"Why? Do you want us to go out so that it's true?" You are blind to Ryujin's blush, just as you get flashbanged in game.

"No that's not the point! It's about my image!"

"Sure sure, I don't have an image so I don't care. Let me know if you want us to go out."

"How can you joke about something like that!" She leaves in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

"Tch, I didn't say no did I?" You mutter under your breath.

----- 

Ryujin blinks and rubs the sleep from her eyes. She tries to get up, only to be suddenly aware of a firm arm around her.

"Mmm, just a little longer." The warm heat of his chest flows straight into her back. The hot breath on her neck makes her all warm and... tingly.

"Hey..." She whispers. "I need to go."

"No, stay—" you finally process the voice and your eyes snap open, to the back of someone's head, someone you knew far too well. "Ryujin? Dah!" You hurriedly let her go as she pushes herself away. "What happened last night?"

"I don't remember." She sits up and runs a hand through her hair. "Do you?"

"No, we sat down with beers, and then nothing after that."

"Ugh... Did we—" she checks herself, breathing a sigh of relief as she finds herself fully clothed.

"Of course not!"

"Yeah, like you're the one who has the most to lose here!" Ryujin fires back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The members will know I stayed the night, what do you think they'll think?"

"Just tell them the truth, we did nothing and you spooned me!"

"I? Spooned you? No no, the big spoon is the one doing the spooning, you spooned me."

"No, that's called a normal sleeping position, I wouldn't be spooning you if you didn't back yourself into me, little spoon."

"I'm not little— Whatever, I don't have time to argue, I have to go."

"Fine. Why did you even want to meet up?"

"What?" Ryujin asks, distracted and putting on her sneakers.

"You wanted to catch up, I came, except it was your hweshik? Like why?"

"I-I thought it would be a more casual setting, that's all."

"I mean, you're not wrong, but we ended up too drunk to talk after."

"Okay I'm sorry, let's meet up some other time, just us okay?"

"I'll hold you to do that." Ryujin waves goodbye, leaving the two of you annoyed and... frustrated, in more ways than one.

It is weeks later when Ryujin reaches out, and you begrudgingly agree to meet up yet again. You are more than slightly annoyed when you see someone sitting next to her.

"Ye... Ji, right?"

"Yes, you remembered!" Ryujin exclaims delightedly. "That saves me on introductions, I'll be right back!"  With that she's already off to order coffee for everyone. You greet Yeji with an awkward smile.

"How are you?"

"I'm good, you? It's good to meet you again, I was afraid Ryujin killed you after she didn't come back that night," Yeji jokes.

"We didn't do anything." You say automatically. "But that's a huge jump to make."

"Well, she came back with a guilty smile, like she enjoyed whatever she did that night. Her hair and makeup was fine, so clearly you didn't make a move on her—"

"I wouldn't make a move—"

"Which is so crazy to me, that her offing you isn't as large a jump to make."

"Ryujin's not—" Yeji's raised eyebrow stops you in your tracks. "I don't think of her that way."

"Really? She'll make you then, when she finally figures out she wants to."

You were about to ask what she meant, when Ryujin returns with the drinks. She puts your usual coffee order in front of you and sits down next to Yeji.

"So unnie, what do you think? Do you like him?"

"What?" You and Yeji nearly spit your drinks out.

"What are you talking about, isn't he your style?" Ryujin turns red and nearly spits her own drink out.

"No! He's my friend! I-I thought you were looking for someone unnie!"

"Keep your voice down!"

"Ryujin what are you doing? I never asked you about Yeji." You nod your head slightly towards Yeji. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that, I just don't know you well at all." She dismisses you with a kind smile, or so you thought, but the smile was for other reasons.

"None taken." God I am looking at two idiots.

"You have to start somewhere don't you?" Suddenly thirsty, Ryujin's drink is almost gone already. "You're not... in a relationship are you?"

"No I'm not, but you can't spring something like this on people."

"He's right you know. You don't just randomly bring people together without them knowing and expecting something to happen."

"Okay so I missed a step, I thought it would be a good idea."

"I'm heading out," you say with finality, finishing the rest of your drink with a shudder—ugh, brain freeze. "Ryujin, if you want to catch up, I'm more than happy to, but I don't know why you're pussyfooting around me about just talking one-on-one. I'm more than happy to get to know Yeji if you would just tell me, or tell her, for that matter, beforehand."

"Sit." Just as firmly as he left them, Yeji sits Ryujin down once they return to the dorms. "So, why did you make up that stuff about me? You're going to use your unnie without telling her?"

"Sorry! I just felt that it would be too awkward with just the two of us."

"I thought you two are old friends."

"We are, but it's different now, we grew up, things change."

"You like him, he is your style."

"What? No that's not what's happening here."

"Please Ryujin, it's been weeks, months even, since you first saw him again, any other guy that didn't show interest you would have moved on, and yet here you are, you spent a night with him—"

"We didn't—"

"Let me finish," Yeji warns in her I'm-the-leader tone. "You spent a night and didn't do anything with him, and yet you are using your dear unnie as an excuse to see him again. It's one thing if the sex is good and you want an excuse to see him again, it's another if you two haven't slept together yet."

"We did sleep together! He spooned me!" Ryujin says defensively.

"You two really are cute little idiots. I don't know what is going on between the two of you, but here, I will book a nice hotel suite with two nice king-sized beds. You two can go there and have a nice conversation, make things not awkward, and if you're really just friends with him, you can each spend the night on a nice big comfy bed. If not, feel free to not sleep in one bed together, naked!"

"Yeji unnie!"

"You're being foolish, and so is he."

"What?"

"He cares enough to text you first sometimes, so he's not disinterested. All I'm saying is, you put not a boy and a girl, but a man and a woman, in a hotel room, and things may just turn out fine." Yeji pats Ryujin on the head. "Just let me prepare everything, and I'll tell you when okay?"

"Yes unnie."

You should have realized that something was up when Ryujin invited you to a hotel. You gave her the benefit of the doubt when you see Yeji meeting you in front of the hotel ("She insisted I show you to the room, that's all, I'm not staying."). You probably shouldn't have when you realize you were going up to a suite.

"What's going on?" you ask Yeji right outside the door. "Ryujin can afford this?"

"She can, but I paid for this. As the leader I feel partially responsible about what she did to you last time, so I set up the two of you to have a night in, just like old times. Movies, snacks, games, you name it!"

"I wasn't planning on staying a night here, I thought it would be at a restaurant or something."

"It's okay, I just thought a room would be quieter than a restaurant, you don't have to stay the night if you don't want to."

"I see, thanks, I guess. Where's Ryujin?" 

"She's in there already, go ahead." Yeji gives you a pat on your back as she leaves, and you wait for the ding of the elevator before knocking.

"Hey."

"Hey, thanks for coming."

"Sure. Whoa, Yeji really did prepare everything." That she did, a huge spread of snacks, food, and a counter of various coffees, soft drinks, and alcohol—looks like you wouldn't need to order room service. "So, what should we do first?"

"I don't know, game? What did we do back then?" Ryujin asks, fumbling with her bag of chips.

"Watch a movie? Or TV?" That sounded good, so you scooped up some snacks and joined Ryujin on the sofa in the "living room" of the suite. You see two Ryujins in the room.

"Whoa, what's that?" You ask, nodding to the TV.

"Oh, it's nothing, was just monitoring a recent performance."

"Monitoring?"

"Like, watching yourself, checking for mistakes, stuff like that."

"That sounds... a little narcisstic no? Watching your own performances?"

"It's just something we do." Ryujin tries to close the video, but you stop her.

"Can we watch? I've never seen you perform before actually." She hesitates for a moment but presses play. Ryujin sits down next to you, slightly tense—how would you react? To her bemused delight, the questions incoming are very naive.

"You are showing a lot of skin." "Uhh yeah, that's kinda in the job description."

"And... isn't it a little too tight?" "Again, also in the job description."

"When was this performance again?" "Like a week ago?" "How come your hair looks so different now?" "I go to the salon, you do know that there's more to hairstyles than cutting right?" She reaches for his hair before he reacts.

"You haven't done anything to your hair have you, even the hairstyle is the same. Touch my hair." Her heart skips a beat when his fingers brush her hair.

"Whoa, why does it feel like that?"

"There's a lot you can do to it, most are not great for the hair, but hey, we need to show different styles, and hair is the easiest way to do it." He runs his digits through her hair, and Ryujin shudders at the sensation—it was weirdly hot.

"Sorry, does it hurt?"

"N-No, but you should stop."

"Right, sorry."

"No problem, any more questions, or can we watch something that's not me?"

"Sure sure, just... wow that's a very different line work."

"Yeah. What do you want to watch?"

"Wait, sorry one last question." You lean in and squint at the video, and then glance at Ryujin. "How long does it take for you to look like that on stage? Just the makeup."

"About umm, 40 minutes, an hour. maybe more?"

"Really? And how much time did you spend today?"

"Like 20 minutes?"

"And last time was 30 minutes?"

"You don't have to remind me about that."

"Yes yes, but you probably don't need to spend that much time on makeup. You should tell your stylists that." It takes a moment for Ryujin to process the compliment, and she blushes a deep red, overpowering what makeup she had on.

"T-Thanks, I'll let them know."

"I um, yeah, no problem, just saying." You stutter a little, realizing how weird that sounded coming from you. "Should we watch a movie, or drama?"

"Umm yeah, how about a movie?" Ryujin starts one, but neither of you really notice what's on screen. Instead, the two of you talk and talk and talk—your interest in her work prompts her own curiosity, and she asks about your job, about your life. You swap stories, and although you feel like Ryujin's getting the short end of the stick—your stories pale in comparison to the entertainment industry's wild rumors, she is equally enthused all the same—more importantly you're finally catching up with her. Inevitably the times you're talking about go backwards in time.

"Remeber when—"

"Yeah, or when he—"

"Who was our maths teacher again, Miss—"

"Did you know that he had a crush on you?" "No way! Really? That explains a lot." "What happened?" "He always wanted to be in my group, even though I don't do anything for projects. He was very nice, but he didn't ask me out in the end."

"Wait, he did all that? When was this? How come I don't remember this? What if he did ask you?" Ryujin taps her chin thoughtfully at his question.

"Would I have said yes? I dunno, we got along but we never clicked."

"Huh, but seriously when was this, I don't remember this at all." She watches him frowning, looking up at the ceiling and trying to remember, and she realizes why he couldn't, and wouldn't, be able to remember.

"Oh, it's because I never told you, because we, you know."

"Oh. Right." And there it is, finally the topic broached.

"I'm really sorry that I hit you, I should have said sorry back then, and it cost us both a lot. I still regret it even now."

"I don't blame you Ryujin, I should have reached out again, but I was childish. I did exactly what you told me to, even though that isn't what either of us actually wanted." He puts a hand on her shoulder, an olive branch. "We should move on from that, okay? No more doing stupid stuff like inviting me to a blind date without either party knowing."

"Okay, sorry, sorry. Now never bring that up again, please."

"Yes, let's just watch the movie. Make sure you turn off your phone so that you won't arrange another one for me." Ryujin throws a cushion at you, but you grab it and hand it back to her, and she hugs it against her chest as the two of you settle into the couch. You two end up closer and closer together, until you're shoulder-to-shoulder with her, her head lightly resting on yours, just like the old days.

But the movie the two of you are watching are definitely not age-appropriate for the old days, as the male and female leads struggle against one another, locked in a fevered and contentious argumentative embrace, until they give into each other. He pins her against the wall, she pulls her top off and wraps her arms around his neck.

"Ahh, mmm!" He presses himself into her, his hands tight around her waist. Her hips wriggle, bucking against him as he slips his hand under her shorts. A short gasp. She pulls off his shirt, revealing his chiseled chest and muscular arms—

Oh yes! The screen reflects off Ryujin's irises, but she's playing her own scene in her head. Of her with someone, with said someone right next to her. She squirms a little, and suddenly notices two things—that she's tense, holding her breath; and that he's tense, and holding his breath; scratch that, make that three things she notices—she's wet, the inside of her thighs sticky with need. She needs to get out before they—

"This movie's boring, we should watch something else," he rasps.

"Y-Yeah, let's watch something else. Hah even when we were young you never liked the R-rated scenes." she jokes, hoping to lighten the palpable tension.

"Then why did you agree with me? The old you would have made sure we kept watching. Let's keep watching then." You jostle her, making sure to keep a cushion over your lap.

"No, let's not, it's weird watching it with a guy."

"Oh, so now I'm a guy? Do you see me as a man? Are you interested in me, hm hm hm?" you play it off as a joke, but you are taken aback at Ryujin's lack of outraged denial.

"Why, are you interested in me?" Ryujin panics, and with the situation getting out of hand, she tries to solve it the only way she knows how—by throwing it back harder. "Now that I'm in a girl group, you're interested in me now aren't you? Did you enjoy my fancams just now?"

"N-No, of course not! And don't sit like a lady now, what happened to manspreading all over the couch like you used to? Are you hiding something?" Ryujin spreads her legs slightly, making herself all the more aware of her own arousal, and praying it doesn't show on her tight pants. Hurriedly she tries to escalate even further, to draw attention away from herself—she grabs his cushion and pulls it away, revealing his bulge. Daringly she grabs him, and his slight hiss just makes her wetter—because of his reaction, and because he is far more prominent than his jeans would suggest.

"What's this? I thought you weren't interested in me, hmm?" He slaps her hand away almost childishly.

"Of course not, that was just the movie being hot, not you! What about you!" He hovers a hand on her flat stomach, threatening to move down. "I wonder how wet you are down there, just from the movie right?"

"Of course! And if you're not interested in me, prove it!" Ryujin tries to escalate once more to "win" the argument. "Hit me!"

"What? You're crazy."

"No, I still feel bad about what I did all those years ago. I know you said you're over it, but I'm not, not until you hit me, so go ahead, hit me!" She grabs his arm, pulling it to her face, trying to make the hand connect.

"Ryujin I'm not going to hit you!"

"Why not, do you like me? I thought you weren't interested."

"No, you're just being stupid, I am not going to hit you. Ryujin!"

"Even if I feel bad? Even if I want you to hit me?"

"Especially if you want it, I won't hit you!" He is hypocritical though, and as Ryujin struggles harder he hits her.

In the face.

On her cheek.

Gently.

It is a warm, soft caress of her cheek, and he's pressed against her lips, kissing her hard. Ryujin's hand relaxes as her heart pounds against her chest. She puts both hands around his neck, pulling him in—god she wants this right now! The kiss spikes in intensity, but she can feel him draw back, slightly unsure. Her lips part, and she licks his slightly, and reassured he tongue-tangoes with her, soft moans coming from both of them. The kiss that started off by catching both of them by surprise quickly burns into something more, into apology, into making up for years of lost time, into pure lust.

Your free hand goes down from her neck to her shoulders, carelessly brushing the bra strap off. You wrap an arm around her back, hugging and holding her close—for the first time you realize that Ryujin's slim, a side-effect of her job. It made you want to protect her, to make sure no one would ever say no to her and hurt her and—

And to devour her. Your hand goes to her hip, and you freeze when she freezes, the fingertips touching her warm skin underneath her top retreating slightly. You feel her hand grab your wrist, did you go too far? No, she wants you to go further, putting your hand on her midriff and pushing you down, beneath her pants, and then one layer more.

"Fuck..." Ryujin can't help but whine as his fingers brush over her lips, instantly coating them with stickiness. Her body moves on its own, she's grabbing on to his arm, keeping him there, and she's bucking her hips, urging him to just curl his fingers and—

"Mmmm!" You could cum in your jeans right now just hearing Ryujin groan as you push two fingers into her. Your breath is heavy and hot on her lips while you try to hold the kiss, even as Ryujin squirms against you—she's tight and sticky and wet. "It feels so good, make me cum!" You hear her plead—you have never seen her quite like this, but you can't even begin to process that thought as her lips find your neck and suck harshly. You pay her back in kind, just as she desires, with firm pushes of your fingers into her, over and over. She cries out into your neck when your tips graze her just right, and soon her walls convulse and contract, making it even easier for you to rub her weak spot.

"Cum for me Ryujin." She nods into his neck, whining in pleasure as she gets even closer to her peak. He's growling in her ear, making her pussy squelch and leak. She squirts a little against his palm as he tugs on her earlobe, and he's hitting her in the sense that his cheek bumps against hers as she jerks erratically in ecstasy.

"Cum for me if you love me." WHAT? I don't— Her mind blanks out as he rubs g-spot roughly, and she muffles her scream against his neck, the pleasure paralyzing her, interrupting her own disgreement. She remembers being tense against him, as if reaching up to cling to him. Yet when she comes to she's lying on the sofa, his weight pressed on her comfortably.

"Asshole," she whispers a weak retort. "I don't love— ah!" He takes her breath away again, kissing her passionately. "Whatever you say dear," is the look he gives her after the kiss, and it infuriates Ryujin, makes her want to get back at him. Get back at him in a way that she really wants to right now.

"Get off me," Ryujin pouts and mutters, and you acquiesce, slowly pulling your fingers out from her—her stickiness and tightness isn't a feel you would soon forget. Ryujin unbuttons your jeans, pulling it and your boxers to your knees. She presses herself into you, and with a muted moan you respond to her grasping your cock. Her hand runs up and down your length, all the way from base to tip.

"Do I feel good?" she whispers into your ear. Her free hand runs up and down your body, further stimulating you. "You want me to go faster?" The sound that leaves you is almost a whine. "You'll cum for me right? Cum for me if you love me too? Hmm?" Ryujin teases and baits you.

"No I won't," you mutter through heavy breaths, trying and failing to calm yourself down.

"You won't, even if I do this?" She runs a finger over your head, rubbing the underside of it. Where the fuck did she learn to do that! "No? Maybe I should stop?" She runs her palm over your head before pulling away, going back to stroking your shaft. Ryujin's a master baiter.

"No, don't stop!"

Ryujin's glad he says no, as she's not sure she can even stop herself. It's one thing to grab him over clothing, it's a completely different matter to see and touch it in the flesh, feeling his thickness, his length—she's suddenly thinking about it way too much. He grabs her thigh suddenly, squeezing it as he closes in on his own orgasm. His cock throbs in her hand—she can't wait to feel it burst, and then to feel it inside her. But first, she has to win. 

You groan as Ryujin slinks down your body, positioning herself between your legs. No, surely she wouldn't— Keeping her eyes trained on you the whole time and making sure you are watching her, Ryujin opens her mouth and pushes her lips past your tip, and then past your head, and then most of your shaft.

Cum for me if you love me! Of course, Ryujin's words aren't quite that clear, what with having your cock in her mouth, but her garbled sounds are abundantly clear in meaning. You don't have it in you to resist, and so you fall for Ryujin hard.

"Fuck Ryujin..." The low moan of her name, the sudden grab on her head, the jump of his cock in her mouth, and finally his thick salty load hitting the back of her throat and sliding down her gullet, it all serves to turn Ryujin on even more. As he shudders through his orgasm, the hand on her head runs through her hair, squeezes her scalp gently—Ryujin thoughts dull, focusing on all the sensations he's giving her. It's only when he softens, and her mouth no longer fully filled does she realize that he's done, and that she's drooling a little over his shaft. She looks up, only to find him leaning back, drained and wasted, but she wants more, and she swallows the last of his seed before getting back to work.

"Ryujin!" You wince in oversensitivity as Ryujin starts to stroke you again, adding licks of her tongue on your spent shaft. You firm up a little in her hands, and you get a little harder when she stops to remove her top and pants, revealing a set of simple black underwear. You get a lot harder, recovering to full strength with what she says next.

"I-I need more, I want us to do more." She walks away, her black panties sticking tightly to the apex of her thighs. The slight jiggles of her butt hypnotizes you, and you almost trip over your own pants as you try to follow her to the bedroom.

Ryujin laughs as she hears him stumble on the way over. There is a lot less laughing as he walks through the door, naked and stiffly pointing in her direction, before kissing her and pressing her into the soft bed. A brief fumble, and her bra falls away. In minor embarrassment she covers herself, but he pulls her hands away to plant kisses all around her chest and neck.

"No marks," she whispers, and he responds with a gruff note, that he heard her, but he's not happy about it. She rewards him with an unreserved moan as he pinches and rubs her stiff nubs, swirling his tongue around one, and then the other. There is a sheen of moisture over her flat tummy as he drifts down her body—why did she feel so warm? Ryujin burns a little hotter as he squeezes her thighs again, this time to spread them. His nose nudges against her mons, and her scent gets even thicker at the contact, and as he pulls her underwear to the side. "Don't— nngh!" his tongue catches her by surprise, and soon his warm breath is all over her core, licking and flicking and pressing, making her melt into a mess. And yet she needed more, her hips bucking involuntarily.

"No more, no need..." She pushes you away with a foot, kicking away her panties and removing the last piece of clothing she had on. You join her on the bed, and her legs quickly hook you close, lightly trapping you, the two of you are so close together now.

"Ryujin!" You gasp a final question to her as your shaft touches her entrance. There were many lines crossed today, all of which the two of you could probably ignore or be in denial about in the future, but the line you're on now is one that both of you know would be the Rubicon of your relationship, that things will undeniably change afterwards. But you look at Ryujin, and she is more than willing to leap over that line, and to challenge you to take the leap yourself. She grabs your cock, lining you up with her, adjusting herself until your tip catches her—just the tip, just a toe over the line. She wants you to do the rest.

It's happening, shit, he's so— The pressure in Ryujin's abdomen grows exponentially as the distance closes between their hips. Every time she's sure she can't take anymore of him, he gets deeper, his brows twitching with each inch he pushes into her.

"So tight..." Ryujin clenches even harder around him when she hears his muttered moan. She feels so full, so utterly stuffed, she has to arch her back, as if to try to stretch herself more, to make more room for him. He starts moving soon after, and the pleasure begins to slowly build up. But not fast enough!

"Faster!" you hear her moan.

"I don't want to hurt you," you mumble. She's just too tight to push through roughly, but she disproves that by bucking her hips up into you, and a jolt of pleasure goes up your spine. Her hands wrap around your neck once more, and her eyes are bright and eager. And also mischievous.

"Fuck me if you love me." She gives you no choice, and you willingly up the pace, and her tightness makes you thrust harder. Soon you are fucking her hard and fast with body-rattling strokes. Ryujin's moans get louder and wilder, her voice cracking when you hit deep in her. Her walls tremble around you, and your cock throbs in response to her quick contractions—both of you are close. Bewilderingly she stops you briefly, just as both of you are about to fully ascend in bliss.

"Do me from behind, I don't want you to see me."

"What?"

"I don't want you to watch me cum," Ryujin struggles and tries to push herself off the bed, but he grabs her arms, pinning them against the bed.

"But I want to." She weakly tries to fight back, but his forehead presses against hers, and he's all that she can see, all that she can feel as his cock plunges into her even harder and faster. His sweat drips on to her face, his hips fighting her thrashing lower body, all to fuck her even better—Ryujin knows that he's going to watch her lose control, and somehow that spikes her pleasure even more, that she's going to bare everything to him. I'm sure I'll look so ugly but—

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh my god, oh my— GOD!" Ryujin has never looked hotter as she falls apart right in front of you. Her face goes slack, and she throws her head back as she silently combusts around you, her entire body writhing in pleasure. Her pussy seems to grip and tug at you, as if trying to suck you in deeper, to suck your—fuck it's too dangerous! You manage to spread her thighs further and pull out in time, joining Ryujin in climax, splattering her quivering lithe body with thick splotches of cum.

You roll to the side, laying down next to her and breathing heavily. Ryujin's lips are still lightly parted, soft moans joining your pants as the two of you work through the last bits of pleasure going through your heads. It is almost cute how she blinks rapidly after opening her eyes, not seeing you right on top of her. She turns the wrong way first, and blushes like mad as she turns the right way to face you. She mumbles something, but your head is still buzzing and ringing to hear her.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, umm, tissues please." With what felt like a huge effort, you manage to push yourself off the bed to grab some towels instead. The aftermath is surprisingly awkward, as Ryujin asks to use the shower first, and you avert your eyes as she comes out of the bathroom. She quickly puts on a bathrobe, and by the time you get up, she's already out of the bedroom, saying something about getting some water. You take a long shower, trying to figure out what to say when you're face-to-face with Ryujin again—Be with me? This never happened? I like you? I love you? I want you? Let's just be fuckbuddies? You come out just as uncertain as before, except much cleaner, and you make sure you are properly covered before exiting the bathroom.

"Hey," Ryujin calls out, tapping away at her phone.

"Hey."

"There's water on the table."

"Thanks." You gratefully down the glass of water before looking at the state of your bed—ruffled, wrinkled, fluid-stained.

"You should sleep with me." You catch the briefest of smiles before Ryujin turns away from you, still playing on her phone.

"What?"

"Your bed's dirty, we should just share one."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I asked you didn't I?"

"Right, thanks." Cautiously you slip into bed next to her, and making sure you kept a healthy distance from her, you faced away from Ryujin and tried your best to sleep.

"Good night Ryujin."

"Good night."

Ryujin wakes up the next morning, only to find him spooning her yet again. She gently tries to lift his arm again, and this time he hugs her even tighter. After last night, rather than be surprised and push herself out of his arms, Ryujin has some morning wetness as she feels something she didn't last time. She knows they'll have to talk about what happened after he wakes up, but she'd rather delay that conversation for as long as possible.

You wake up to a warm sensation between your legs, and it isn't unfamiliar. You look under the covers, only to see Ryujin bobbing her head, bringing your morning wood to full hardness.

"Ryujin? We should—"

"Later." She crawls up your body. "You were spooning me again, I couldn't ignore it."

"No way, you spooned me."

"No, we were facing away from each other."

"Fine, we were, mmm! Spooning each other." Ryujin is shockingly wet, and you quickly groan and compromise with her as she rubs herself over your shaft.

"Deal." She seals it with a vacuum seal over your cock, sinking herself to the hilt in one motion. She flutters around you, and Ryujin buries her head in your neck and let's out a low moan.

"Did you just—?"

"No, just umm, feels good." She throws off the covers, and soon with two hands on your chest Ryujin's riding you, her fit body on full display. Her petite breasts jiggle slightly as she bounces and grinds on you slowly and randomly, indulging herself in a morning fuck. This time she doesn't hide anything, and she's moaning unreservedly, letting you know just how good she feels.

"So deep!" "Fuck right there!" "You're going to make me cum!"

You know she's close when her chin begins to dip into her chest, spending all of her strength on riding you faster, hips bucking back and forth quickly, her slick beginning to leak all over you. You also know that based on how she grips you, there's no way you can hold off your own peak, and you'll go right with her if she does.

"Ryujin, you should get off..."

"No, fuck I'm so close."

"Ryujin!"

She grabs your hands and puts them around her waist—her intent clear.

"Cum in me if you love me." It is reckless, dangerous, stupid even, but Ryujin didn't care. She just put him in checkmate—there was no hiding how either of them felt. Sure he could bluff and lift her easily off him, or he could just jam her on top of him, pump himself up into her and fucking breed her little—

"Fuckkkk!" Ryujin wails at her sinful intrusive thoughts, and she cums immediately. A fresh rush of slick covers your cock, and with Ryujin's velvet grip around you, you give in to your urges and pull her down, making sure you're driving deep into her just before you explode. Lights flash behind your eyes, a mess of hair and lips and teeth in your face as Ryujin tries to kiss you, muffling her outright scream while the two of you finish each other off. Your connection is warmer than ever—from Ryujin's juices all over your crotch, from your cum filling her womb to the brim.

Ryujin's entire body is warm as she comes back down from her high, and he's tightly hugging her. She can hear his heartbeat (or is that her own?) against her chest, and when she flexes her muscles, a heartbeat skips—she could still feel him inside her, and she's almost abnormally warm and wet down there. She winces slightly when his lips find her neck—he's leaving a mark, his mark.

"N-No marks," she protests weakly, but she doesn't really mind, her mind filled with endorphins of happiness, if anyone could see Ryujin they would see her absolutely glowing right now.

"Mm," a mumbled apology, and you're looking at Ryujin as you leave only one hickey on her neck. "You're really pretty, you don't need makeup."

"Thanks, that's random."

"Right, I umm, don't know what to say."

"Then don't." Tiredly Ryujin rests on top of you, and truthfully neither of you minded if you went back to sleep right then. But the real world calls, and Yeji is insistent, calling multiple times even after Ryujin fumbles and rejects the earlier calls.

"Yah, the hotel said you haven't checked out yet? They need to clean it!"

"Just a little longer unnie."

"Yeah, just a little more," you add on.

"Oh, so you two used one bed, hmm, that's nice."

"No, we used both beds, and shut up." Ryujin blushes and fires back immediately to cut off Yeji's cackling.

"Not bad, you didn't disappoint me or Ryujin it looks like. But seriously hurry up and check out."

"Okay okay, we will!" Ryujin ends the call before rolling off you. "God she's going to be so annoying, gonna be all like 'I told you so!', ugh."

"Yeah, we should clean up. Could you pass me the tissues?" This time it is Ryujin that helps you clean up, handing you the box of tissues as she cleans herself too. There is no time to shower, so the two of you quickly get dressed before ambashedly leaving. Before you could get to the concierge, Ryujin quickly pulls you into a side hallway.

"Hey, so what happened last night?" What is she talking about, neither of you were drunk! But the careful way she asks that question is less about your memories of last night, and what it means for the two of you for every night going forward.

"I'll take responsibility, if anything happens—" Ryujin quickly shakes her head, fidgeting slightly.

"No not that, I'll be fine, but just, what about us?"

"That's... That's up to you, did anything happen last night?" she's stumped by his question, until she's suddenly in his embrace, and he's whispering in her ear. "You're the idol, did anything happen? Is anything allowed to happen? I'll go with what you want, I don't want you to get hurt."

"Do you... want it to happen?" Is what she asks, but you look down at Ryujin looking up at you, and you understood the question. Do you want us to happen?

"Yes."

"Then it did." You lean down to kiss her, and Ryujin flashes you the brightest smile before gently pushing you away. "Not here, people might see!"

A few days later you wanted to ask Ryujin out, but you realized you didn't know how to. So you text Yeji.

*You two are idiots just ask her like a normal couple would!* is her scathing reply.

*Can I drop by, I want to ask her directly*

*She won't like that, the other members don't know yet*

*OK, can you set me up with her then, I'll meet her at a cafe or something*

*Just come by, I'll give you our address, I can't be bothered to deal with you two little cavity-inducers*

You arrive in front of their dorms, and thankfully Yeji has the sense to make Ryujin answer the door.

"Hello?" Ryujin's eyes almost pop out of her head as she hurriedly closes the door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to umm, ask you out, when are you free?"

"You couldn't have texted me?"

"I... guess I could have. But I wanted to see you." A warm fuzzy feeling fills Ryujin's heart, and she makes sure you feel the same way.

"Yeah, I missed you too." You hug her tightly, happy at her admission and confession.

"So you'll go out with me then? Whenever you're free I guess."

"Yeah." Ryujin stays silent for a moment, before her eyes twinkle and her lips curl into a smirk. "I'm free Friday, come pick me up then if you love me."

"Friday it is then."

A/N: Finally back with a story, hope it's alright. I tried playing with switching perspectives a lot more, so hopefully it's not too confusing. Getting back into things, hopefully will be posting more frequently from now on, but might not get back to the one-a-week I used to kinda do. Thanks for reading and happy holidays!

[cherrylovelycherry]

𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and a pain au chocolat."

Insolence and control

pairing. Sunday x gn!reader cw/genre. angst, argument, some slow burn, TW(abuse), first time slap, criticism, synopsis. his control-freak behavior started to get on your nerves. full menu note. something short to keep up with the language heh.

As the Family's spokesperson with a hectic schedule, Sunday is arguably the busiest person in Penacony. His workday often extends beyond 15 hours, occasionally reaching over 19 hours. In short, he rarely makes it home, even when he desires to.

On an unusual Tuesday, he manages to arrive home before midnight—a rare occurrence. You casually sit on the living room couch, watching TV until you hear the front door open. It's Sunday. You promptly rise from the couch and assist him with the briefcases in his hands.

"It's okay, Y/N. I can manage them," he declined, visibly exhausted as expected.

You persist, attempting to take the briefcases from his hands, but his demeanor suddenly changes.

"I said it's fine! Can you just fucking leave me alone?!" he shouts, his voice strained. His sudden temper leaves you questioning what has come over him.

You freeze upon his unexpected outburst. His usual composed self was now replaced with a completely different aura.

Sunday drops the briefcases on the floor and takes a step back, averting his gaze. His breathing is heavy, as if he's holding back. The outburst was seemingly triggered by seemingly minor interaction.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted," he says, trying to regain his composure. He's still avoiding eye contact with you, but then his expression suddenly shifts to one of surprise.

His eyes widen slightly upon realizing something.

"Are you…wearing one of my shirts? A hint of irritation laces his tone as he finally looks at you, examining your appearance. You're wearing one of his work shirts that you had borrowed.

You nod, a bit confused by his reaction.

"I missed you—"

You thought he wouldn't mind you borrowing his shirt.

Although hey, he'd never found out you were using them, until now.

He grits his teeth, the irritation in his voice evident, but his eyes remain fixated on the shirt.

"Take it off." he says, his tone firm.

Your heart skips a beat at his command. The shirt suddenly felt too tight.

You look at him, searching for a hint of humor, but you're met only with his intense gaze.

"But why?" you asked, managing to push the words out of you, despite the growing knot in your stomach.

With a great notorious irritation on his face, he spoke again.

"Because you're going to dirty and wrinkle it."

You look down at yourself, noting that the shirt is barely wrinkled and clean, contrary to his statement.

However, the tension in the air was palpable.

You tried to protest, not understanding why he was making such a big deal about something so trivial. "But this won't - "

Before you could finish, he silenced you, his voice filled with irritation and authority.

"Don't argue with me. I said take it off. Now."

But oh right, he wanted to always have everything controlled and in place.

You hesitate, torn between obeying him immediately and questioning his unreasonable demand. But his stern stare leaves no room for argument.

Slowly, you lift the hem of the shirt, preparing to take it off.

However, the moment the shirt slides halfway up, revealing the midriff, he abruptly grabs your wrist.

His touch is firm, his grip preventing you from going further.

"Change in the bedroom, not here," he said.

He released your wrist but recorded your other hand before leading you towards the bedroom, his demeanor still emanating tension and irritation. You followed behind, still trying to wrap your mind around the situation.

Once inside the bedroom, he went to the closet to put on slightly more comfortable clothes.

You stood by the bed still puzzled, wondering why he was so upright about this. It was just a shirt.

But anyway, you approached your side of the wardrobe, to take out your own clothes and put it on.

Once you finish changing, you turn around to find him sitting on the bed, still visibly agitated.

Once you finished changing clothes, you left his shirt on dirty clothes.

You sighed and turned your body towards the bed, he was sitting there.

As you approach, he pats the bed, motioning for you to sit next to him. You comply, taking a seat next to him. The air in the room was thick with tension, each moment of silence felt uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath before turning his gaze toward you. His eyes were filled with frustration.

He spoke, his voice softer but still tinged with irritation. "Do you know how long I've been working this week?"

You replied, a hint of guilt in your voice. "I know. It's been incredibly busy for you lately."

He let out a heavy sigh. "I've been working non-stop, sometimes not even coming home till midnight. I'm exhausted, mentally and physically."

You moved your gaze to his face. Dark rings under his eyes were visible, evidence of his tiredness.

He continued, venting his frustration. "And what do I find when I finally get home? You, wearing my shirt as if it's nothing."

His voice rose, the irritation in his tone evident again. "That's not just some random shirt; it's mine. It's supposed to be clean, pristine, hanging neatly in my closet. Not being casually worn and wrinkled on you."

"I'm sorry," you replied, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. "I just missed you, and I thought you wouldn't mind."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an exasperated sigh. "You've been living here, in my house, with me, for how long? You should know not to 'borrow' my belongings."

The tension in the room was escalating quickly, and you found yourself feeling defensive.

"It's just a shirt, Sunday," you said, trying to stay calm. "I thought you wouldn't mind."

He shot you a stern glance, irritation evident in his gaze. "It's the principle, not the shirt itself. I have specific ways I want things organized and kept in order."

His control-freak behavior started to get on your nerves.

"I wanted to feel closer to you, that's why I wore it. Is that such a crime?" You said.

His jaw tightened at your response as he shot back angrily, "You could've done that in a different way; not by disrespecting my belongings,"

His control started to leak out of him completely. The outburst was not only about the shirt, but the frustration built up during the week, from his stressful work to the lack of time you both had for each other.

He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself. "I expect more from you, especially as my partner. You should understand and respect my boundaries,"

"Boundaries?" you replied, the frustration in your voice evident. "Is it really about boundaries, or is it about control?"

You were starting to lose your patience.

"I do respect your boundaries," you added, your voice starting to rise. "But there's a line between having expectations and being ridiculously controlling. And right now, it feels like you're being the latter."

Sunday's eyes narrowed, clearly not appreciating being challenged. He retorted, "I'm not being controlling; I just have high standards, and I expect them to be met. You know exactly who you're living with."

His voice grew more frustrated. "And instead of understanding and appreciating that, you're questioning me, and accusing me of overstepping boundaries. I demand a certain level of order and respect. Is that really too much to ask for?”

"Are you serious right now?" You snapped back, your frustration reaching its peak, "Of course it's too much to ask for! You're acting as if this is all my fault. You're being completely unreasonable,"

"I can't just sit here and take this—this verbal abuse because I wore your stupid shirt," you exclaimed.

The room was thick with tension.

"Verbal abuse?" Sunday's voice rose, clearly offended. "I'm not abusing you; I'm expressing my expectations and frustrations. There's a difference."

He pointed his finger at you, frustration etched on his face. "And yes, it is your fault. If you had respected my boundaries, we wouldn't be having this argument. It's not about the damn shirt, it's about your disregard for my wishes."

You let out a slight laugh in mockery, as you rolled your eyes.

"You know what? Fine, you win, I'm not going to touch your stuff," you said, as you got up from the edge of the bed.

Sunday's eyes followed you, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "Where are you going?"

You replied, "to the living room, i need some space to cool off."

He let out a scoff, clearly not satisfied with your response. "You want space? Fine, take all the space you need. But come back here when you're ready to apologize and accept you're in the wrong."

Your eyes narrowed at his insistence that you were in the wrong. You retorted, "I'm not going to apologize for something that doesn't make sense,"

He clenched his jaw, his tone stern. "You know what, maybe you shouldn't come back until you see reason."

His words stung more than you expected. The implication that you weren't being reasonable made your heart flutter, mixed with the hurt of his cold statement.

You crossed your arms, your voice filled with determination. "Fine, I won't. Consider this a break from your 'expectations and rules.'"

His eyes flared with anger as he responded, "A break from my expectations and rules? You make it sound like I'm controlling, but those boundaries exist for a reason."

He got up from the bed, his voice raised, "And if you can't respect them or me, then maybe we need more than just a break."

The tension between you both palpable, your relationship suddenly hanging on a precipice.

You let out a hollow laugh, the hurt and frustration bubbling up within you. "Maybe that's what we need – a break from each other."

You moved back towards the bedroom door, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'll go stay somewhere else."

His expression hardened, a mix of surprise and stubbornness evident on his face. "You can leave. Go ahead."

You opened the door, your hand gripping the handle tightly. The urge to turn back, to argue further or something, was strong.

"Fine, I will," you said, your voice quiet, almost resigned.

You took one last glance at him, noted his tense stature, and then walked out the door, shutting it behind you with a sharp click.

The sound of the door shutting echoed through the apartment, leaving Sunday alone in the quiet room. He stood there for a moment, his mind racing with frustration and anger.

He ran his hand through his hair, the silence in the apartment felt deafening. He looked down at the floor, the argument still fresh in his mind.

You didn't end up leaving the house, first of all, or know where to stay.

So you stayed in the house, huddled on the couch.

As the hours passed by, the silence in the apartment felt deafening. Sunday still hadn't come out of the bedroom.

You sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, a mix of emotions swirling within you.

You lay on the couch, choosing to sleep.

You didn't know how much time passed, but you felt someone pushing you a little bit, to make room for the couch.

As you stirred from your sleep, you felt someone gently pushing you on the couch, attempting to make room. You opened your eyes slightly, groggy from the disrupted sleep.

You noticed Sunday hovering above you, a tired expression on his face.

"Move over," he said, his voice softer than before, but still holding a hint of tension.

You shifted slightly, creating space for him on the couch. He slumped onto the spot you just vacated, his presence immediately filling the room with his energy.

He leaned his head back against the couch cushion, sighing heavily.

The two of you stay there in silence for a moment, the weight of your unresolved argument still lingering between you. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the dim bedside lamp, casting shadows on the walls.

Sunday broke the silence first, his voice a low rumble. "You didn't leave."

You looked at him, your gaze meeting his weary eyes. The tension from your earlier fight still hung in the air, but his comment felt almost like an olive branch, a hint that maybe he didn't want you to leave either.

You replied softly, "I didn't know where to go."

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Then, after a few more seconds, he spoke, his voice holding a hint of resignation.

"You could have gone to a friend's place. Or a hotel. Anything but here."

You responded, your voice quieter this time, "I didn't want to go anywhere else."

He shifted his head to look at you, your eyes meeting his. His expression softened for a moment, before the tension returned.

He continued, his voice slightly strained, "You'd rather stay here, even after what happened?"

You nodded, your eyes not breaking contact with his. "Yes. Despite our argument, I didn't want to leave."

He inhaled deeply, his eyes still fixed on you.

After another moment of silence, this time you spoke first.

"Couldn't sleep?" You asked, seeing his tired look.

He let out a weary sigh, stretching his tired figure a bit.

"No," he admitted, "I've been tossing and turning in bed for hours."

His eyes searched your face, studying your expression.

"Why is that?" You asked, curiosity piqued.

He shifted his position once again, clearly not wanting to give a direct response.

"The bed felt too empty," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

You let go of a little 'mhm' while also moving yourself a little on the couch, looking for comfort.

"Then let's sleep," you said, closing your eyes.

There was another moment of silence, this one felt heavier.

Sunday didn't say anything at first, but then you suddenly felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

You allowed yourself to intertwine your legs with his, feeling more comfortable so you could sleep on the narrow couch.

You both settled into a rather tight, but somewhat comfortable position on the couch, with your head resting on his chest.

The sound of his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his body were strangely soothing, despite the lingering tension between you.

His arm remained around you, his hand gently tracing light circles on your back.

It didn't take long for you to fall asleep again.

The sky outside had started to darken, dusk painting the horizon in hues of purple and deep blue. It was getting late, signaling the end of another workday.

Sunday was still at work, finishing up a few tasks before returning home.

You were sitting on the couch once again, scrolling through your phone when you heard the sound of keys in the front door.

The door opened, and in walked Sunday. He looked weary and tired, exhaustion evident in his gaze.

This time you didn't get up to try to help him, because the last time you did he was too irritated to be kind.

"Hey, sweetheart," you greeted, as you turned your gaze towards your phone again.

He closed the door behind him, locking it as he always did.

He took off his jacket and hung it on the hook next to the door, his movements weary.

He turned to face you, his expression revealing his fatigue.

He couldn't help but make a grimace when he saw you sitting there.

"Did you wash the dishes?" He dared to ask, as if he knew the answer.

You immediately felt the irritation rise in you. Despite your attempt at not letting it affect you, his first words felt like another challenge.

You replied, trying to keep your tone even, "Yes, I did."

He walked over to you, stopping in front of the couch.

He didn't seem convinced, as he raised an eyebrow and asked again, "Are you sure?"

His tone was laced with skepticism.

The doubt in his voice made your annoyance flare up even more, the feeling of being constantly questioned and disbelieved by him was wearing thin.

You shot him a look, before answering again firmly, "Yes, I'm sure. I wouldn't lie about something as simple as washing dishes."

He shifted, leaning his arm against the back of the couch, towering over you.

He responded with a dry tone, "And how am I supposed to know? You've been known to forget before."

You crossed your arms, meeting his skeptical gaze with your own. "I'm not a child, Sunday. I'm perfectly capable of doing basic chores, without being questioned and doubted constantly."

He didn't respond and headed to the kitchen, where he saw for himself that the dishes were clean.

But not in the right way.

Or at least that's what he thought.

"Y/N, did you dry the dishes with the cloth for the dishes or to dry your hands?" He raised his voice, from the kitchen, so that you could hear his words.

You felt your frustration rising again. Why was he always so nitpicky about every little thing?

You stood up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen. "What difference does it make?" You replied, trying to keep your voice even. "They're both clean, aren't they?"

He looked at you, his expression stern. "It does make a difference. One cloth is supposed to be used for the hands, not as a drying cloth for dishes."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The way he was picking on such a trivial issue was mind-boggling.

You retorted, "Sunday, this is ridiculous. It's just a cloth, and it serves the same purpose, right? The dishes are clean."

He shook his head, his expression remaining stern.

"No, it's not just a cloth. The dish cloth is for the dishes, and the towel is for your hands. It's about order and organization," he responded matter-of-factly.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath.

"Well, I'm going to wash them again and dry them with the right cloth," you said, in a tense voice.

As you approached to start putting the variety of dried dishes inside the sink.

He stopped you with a gesture, placing his hand on your shoulder. "Wait."

His tone was firm, preventing you from moving forward.

"Let me do it. You'll probably just use the wrong cloth again." he declared, his gaze fixed on you.

You let go of an unconscious mockery after his words reached your ears.

"How nice," you said, as you left the kitchen.

You left the kitchen feeling frustrated and annoyed. The fact that he thought you couldn't handle such a simple task as washing dishes felt like a blow to your pride.

You sat back down on the couch again, still see something but trying to control yourself. You picked up your phone, pretending to be distracted, all while feeling his presence in the next room, taking care of 'your mistake'.

And yes, you thought he was just irritated and it would only be the only times he would make those kinds of comments.

Oh, aeons. How wrong you were.

Time after time again, every time he came back late at night, he insisted on criticizing the things you did, from how to fold your clothes, to how you eat.

At this point you were starting to feel frustrated, and of course, you couldn't help but defend yourself, sometimes speaking badly or raising your tone of voice.

It wasn't the best way to speak for you, but it was infuriating for you to criticize everything.

And obviously, he didn't like your attempts at defense and tone of voice.

At this point, you were sitting on the couch, somewhat relaxed not to have Sunday in the living room.

You were now glad that he spent so much time away from home.

The door opened once again, revealing the tired figure of Sunday once more. As he stepped into the room, his gaze instantly focused on you, sitting on the couch. The moment he saw you, a disapproving frown settled on his face.

He closed the door behind him and approached the living room, his footsteps reverberating in the quiet apartment.

"Y/N," he began, his voice stern. "You're sinking into the couch again. It's going to wear it out."

You couldn't believe it.

He was now criticizing how you were sitting on the couch. It was as if everything you did was wrong in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure.

"I'm just sitting comfortably," you replied tersely.

But Sunday wasn't satisfied.

"You're sinking in the couch," he repeated, his tone disapproving. "You know it's not good for the couch, or your back, to sit that way. You need to sit up straight."

His constant criticism and corrections had been wearing on your nerves, and this latest comment was the final straw.

"Oh, for Aeons sake, Sunday," you snapped, your frustration boiled over. "Can you just relax for a moment? I'm tired, I'm just trying to relax."

He didn't take your response kindly. His expression hardened.

"And I'm tired of coming home every day to find you slouching on the couch," he replied firmly. "It's not respectable, or good for you."

Your eyes widened at his words and this time, you lost it.

You stood up, your voice raised and filled with frustration. "Respectable? Are you serious? You're more worried about how respectable I look on the couch than how I feel?"

He was taken aback by your outburst, but stood his ground. "It's about maintaining a certain standard… "

You interrupted him, your voice filled with sarcasm. "Oh, spare me, Sunday. We're not living in some uptight Victorian house."

Sunday's expression tensed, his eyes narrowing. "Watch your tone, Y/N. I'm just trying to help you be more presentable… "

You laughed bitterly. "Presentable? Is that all you care about? My appearance and how it reflects on you?"

Sunday tried to maintain his stern expression, but the tone of your voice was starting to chip at his composure.

You continued, your irritation rising, "You're always criticizing me, finding faults in everything I do. I can't relax without you nagging at me to be 'more respectable' or to do things your way. It's like I'm walking on eggshells every moment you're here."

Sunday clenched his jaw, clearly growing irritated. "You're exaggerating. I just want you to have some basic decency and standards,"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Decency and standards?! Is that what you call it? I call it suffocating and controlling. I can't even relax in my own home without you breathing down my neck, telling me how to sit, how to fold my clothes, how to talk‐"

Sunday interrupted you, his own irritation seeping into his voice. "Because you're not doing it right! Someone has to keep things in order around here. You think the house will magically stay organized and tidy without any effort?"

You retorted, "I'm not saying we need to live like pigs, but there's being tidy and then there's being overly obsessive about every little detail."

"You're making me feel like I can never do anything right, and it's driving me insane."

"It's about showing some self-discipline and self-respect. You're always so slovenly and careless…" He said.

You felt like you couldn't take his comments anymore. "Slovenly?" you replied, your voice filling with incredulity. "I'm not a slob, Sunday. I'm just being comfortable in MY own home."

The tension in the air was palpable. Sunday's irritation was now almost palpable, and he looked like he was on the verge of losing his composure.

"Your 'comfort' is an excuse for being undisciplined," he said, his voice growing louder. "You think because you're at home, you can just relax and do whatever you want. You have an obligation to yourself to maintain a certain standard of behavior and appearance."

'Obligation?'

You snapped.

"Who the hell do you think you are to dictate my behavior and appearance?" Your frustration boiled over. "You're not my boss, Sunday. You're my partner. You're supposed to support and respect me, not nitpick and control every little thing I do. This isn't a military drill, it's a home."

Sunday's own frustration flared up as you stood your ground. "I'm just trying to help you be better. If you'd just listen and take my advice - "

"Oh, so it's 'advice' now?" You interrupted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're not advising me. You're ordering me around like a damn soldier."

"I'm not just supposed to sit idly by and watch you act carelessly. It's my duty to guide and correct you when you're veering off the right path." he shot back, his voice rising in volume.

You couldn't help but use sarcasm again at his loud tone of voice. "Oh, right, right."

"In the process, teach me how to breathe, yes? I'm sure I'm doing that wrong too."

That comment clearly hit a nerve and Sunday's irritation turned into anger.

"You're being sarcastic and disrespectful again," he said.

"Disrespectful my-!" Your words were quickly cut off.

By he stepped closer, towering over you.

"How insolent!" And the moment he spoke, his hand rose above his head.

Just as you were about to retaliate, your words were cut off by a swift and firm slap across your cheek.

The sudden shock left you stunned, your mind spinning for a moment. Your hand gingerly touched your now stinging cheek.

Sunday stood there, his face filled with disbelief. It was as if he was just as surprised as you were by what he had just done. For a moment, both of you remained silent. The air was filled with shock and a tense silence.

You knew Sunday was stern and strict, but this was the first time he had ever raised a hand at you.

The atmosphere in the room was now even more tense. You felt a knot forming in your stomach and throat, fear and anger mixed together forming a confusing sensation.

The realization of what had just happened was slowly reaching your brain.

He slapped you. He actually dared to lay a hand on you.

The room echoed in deafening silence, the only sound was your own breath, which now came in and out rapidly.

Sunday stood there, his hand still slightly raised as if frozen in time.

Sunday's breathing started to quicken as he began to regain his composure.

His eyes widened after realizing what he had done, his gaze fixed on your reddening cheek.

Your own mind was reeling, trying to process this moment. Just moments before, the conversation was heated, but it had never crossed the line into physical violence.

The stinging sensation on your cheek was slowly turning into a dull ache.

You could feel tears start to sting the corners of your eyes, at that point, you couldn't identify whether it was because of the fact that he had dared to do that or because of the sudden sharp pain in your face.

Sunday's expression morphed from shock to something akin to helplessness. He had crossed a boundary that he never thought he was capable of crossing. All this time, he thought that words were enough to guide and correct, but for the first time, he had crossed the line.

He tried to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words, but all that came out was silence.

The tension in the room was palpable.

He finally managed to speak in a shaky, low voice. "I… I didn't mean… I'm sorry, I don't-"

But you were already at the brink of breaking down. The pain on your cheek combined with the emotional turmoil was becoming unbearable.

You couldn't hold it back anymore.

A soft sob escaped your lips, your tears starting to spill down your aching cheek.

Sunday's heart ached as he saw you starting to break down before him.

He captiously took a step forward, his hand reached out towards you, but stopped midway. He didn't know if he should comfort you or keep his distance after what he had just done.

His voice was a hushed whisper. "Please, let me-"

The sight of him trying to touch you after what he had just done sent a shockwave of fear and anger through you.

"Go ahead," you said, trying to get your voice out without any sobbing.

"Go ahead," You repeated, turning your face a little, pointing to your cheek that wasn't hit. "slap me again,"

At no time did the tears stop, practically you spit out the words between cut-down and agitated breaths.

"Surely this is how your 'father' hit you," you said again, with hatred in your tone. "Surely he did the same for you to be obedient,"

Your words, despite being fueled by anger and pain, stung like a dagger through Sunday's heart.

He stood frozen in place, shocked at the comparison you had just made.

Sunday had revealed to you in a previous conversation how strict Gopher Wood was, raising him to be obedient and disciplined. Growing up, there were times him had used physical means to discipline him for mistakes.

He couldn't deny that his upbringing had influenced his way of thinking and acting, but he had never, ever considered crossing the same boundaries Gopher Wood had.

He had never spoken about it with pride, and in fact, he often looked ashamed when he spoke of the times he was reprimanded in such a manner.

He shook his head, voice shaky. "I'm not like him, It's not the same-"

"Isn't it?" you cut him off, your voice quivering with pain and anger.

"Why? Because you love me?" you continued, the tears now flowing freely down your face.

"Because your father didn't love you? That's the difference?"

Sunday clenched his jaw, your words hitting him deep.

You continued, your voice choked with emotion. "If that's the difference, then you're just as bad," your words cut like blades.

"Maybe even worse, because you should know better." you finished, your voice a broken whisper.

The room was once again heavy with silence, the only sound being the occasional soft sob that escaped through your tears.

Sunday's face was pale, a mix of shame and helplessness.

All he could do was stand there, watching you fall apart before his eyes.

The sight of you broke his heart, but the knowledge that he had caused this breakdown weighed heavily on his soul.

He didn't know what to say, how to justify this to you or even to himself.

He just stood there, feeling like a complete failure.

"I hate you, Sunday," you murmured, As you passed your hands across your face, be careful not to dry your tears abruptly, down your sensitive cheek.

Maybe he is a failure.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[staryuee]

Hii friend <3

I dont know really know if requests are still open but i wanted to ask if you could do any genshin characters with a rude s/o?

If not you're always aloud to delete the request :)

HOW YOU MAD AT ME, ‘CUZ I’M CUNT, BITCH?

꒰warnings꒱ cursing…obviously LOL

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you wouldn’t call yourself rude just…”free-spirited” and liberal in your word choices~! ^_−☆

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . eula, xiao, thoma, ei, furina, navia, wriothesley

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . if i had a victorian era shilling for the amount of times my friend has called me rude after i’ve made a comment about something i would be the next ebenezer scrooge (⊙_⊙)

EULA — 优菈

now while eula would normally abhor at the foul language and insults that so easily spew from your precious lips, she actually can’t help but be oddly bemused.

i mean her expectations for linguistics are awfully high, one mustn’t speak with little eloquence but your brashness was oddly…charming, and refreshing in a way. you weren’t afraid to offend people, and simply enjoyed the motto of “i won’t apologise for what i said, i’ll apologise for how it made you feel.”

eula is of course someone who’s treated like the poster-woman for the concept of rudeness given her past and current feigned ego, so honestly you sort of make her feel better about herself — not in a negative way, in the way that she just simply doesn’t feel that lonely anymore.

if anyone has so much as a word to speak against you due to something you’ve said, they can speak to her first. the entirety of teyvat is allowed to shudder if she so much as so breathes, but when it comes to you? vengeance will be severed with a side of wine.

XIAO — 魈

stop. please. xiao is already overwhelmed enough by the varieties of his duties, all his patrolling — and now he has to make sure his lover isn’t in an argument with someone or being threatened to literal death.

he frankly doesn’t really care about the way you speak, sure it’s surprising at first since the majority of people in liyue hold themselves in a way that seems a bit more…calm, but then again sometimes that within itself can be seen as a rude attempt at pacification of genuine feelings.

you’ve never been mean or rude to him, directly at least, so he literally doesn’t care how brutal or venomous your words are, so long as you don’t get yourself in too much trouble. people haven’t seen the yaksha so an edge whenever a person opens their mouth since, well, ever.

he’s never brought up your attitude or personality; he loves you wholly, even if some parts of you are a bit more prickly than rosy.

THOMA — 托马

“haha, they were just joking!” you ticked off another five on your little notepad with a careful swoosh of your pen.

thoma has had to repeat that very phrase so much to the point you’ve been keeping a safe tally on a notepad of whenever he says it. to be honest, you don’t even believe five can be multiplied this many times…

your rudeness and foul language comes as an innate package, and thoma has no problem in neatly tying that package up with a little bow to placate whoever you managed to horribly offend that day. you fear that one day, if thoma isn’t there, you’ll find yourself being interrogated by kujo sara, maybe in a more lucky scenario heizou, herself.

“thoma can you do this f—“

“no.”

“i— wasn’t asking you??”

“you didn’t need to, now fuck off (๑･̑◡･̑๑). don’t be incompetent and you wouldn’t have to ask someone else to constantly do shit for you.”

RAIDEN EI — 影

if not directed to herself directly, she finds you absolutely amusing. she literally cannot be a spokesperson against rudeness after her uhum many self-made and self-fulfilled tragedies, plus she herself can be rather verbally off putting therefore, she has little problems with how you address others.

she does, however, keep a very keen eye on you to make sure you don’t stir up trouble with the wrong crowd.

but, hey! the great thing about dating a highly revered archon is the fact literally no-one will speak out against you.

“[name] told me to kill myself when i said hi in the morning…” and guess what? all of a sudden they have a long voyage to the fiery volcanoes of natlan planned out. criticism is only allowed if it’s aimed at her, not you — you’re basically an extension of her, if anyone so much so demeans you because of your attitude, it’s almost like they’re disrespecting the electro archon herself.

that’s a crime the citizens of inazuma have long learned the lesson of.

FURINA — 芙宁娜

she loves you purely for the theatrics and dramatics you always managed to find yourself in. it always seems like drama follows you wherever you simply step — and hey, she’s an actress, it’s no wonder she’s so easily charmed and swayed with the way your voice rings out blunt responses like it were second nature.

and to be fair, she’s a massive instigator of conflict. on the sidelines of course. so when you perhaps “accidentally” rub someone the wrong way, she can’t help but use sarcasm to throw fuel into the fire and watch the hellish flames burn as she kicks back with a cup of tea and a slice of cake (you know, like a true mirror to marie antoinette)

i think your duo would be even funnier and more undoubtedly chaotic if you have british humour and or slang equipped because let’s be so real if this was modern furina would force neuvillette to act like her roadman guard-dog while she sold 50p sweets during break time to the year 8s. throw in a little “yute” or “op” and she has heart eyes all over you (i promise this is all for the sake of comedy…)

NAVIA — 娜维娅

the best part of being in a relationship is being able to chat shit about anyone and everything, because well, you’re each-other’s everything already, why rely on the kindness of strangers for validation?

you and navia do the thing where you’ll subconsciously glance at each-other from the corners of your eyes when someone (or people) say some dumb silly shit. the problem being, neither of you can keep quiet and immediately will begin giggling and will make it inevitably worse by whispering to one another “stop!” and “don’t laugh—“ while holding your mouths to stifle yourselves.

this leads to people being rather nervous to speak to navia when you’re around. usually, navia is very friendly and softly spoken; often she’ll be a rather happy-go-lucky and caring girl who smiles no matter what — of course this doesn’t mean she’ll allow people to walk all over her, but hey she believes in second chances — but when you’re around…people will loiter around creepily before gathering the courage to ask for help or whatever they need.

navia is at heart however, a very loving and respectful person so she will remind you of when you’ve stepped out of line. sometimes rudeness is just an innate quality that people have and it’s sometimes not intended out of malice; even petty things like lateness or speaking out of turn counts as “rudeness”, and navia is here to either make excuses up for you or to defend you from criticism ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

oh he absolutely eats this shit up. every argument, insult, fight etcetera you’ve ever had is kept in a personal file somewhere in his cabinet just for memories sake. wriothesley’s life is already quite dramatic and hectic as it can be, the fortress of meropide could honestly sometimes be described as a form of circus within itself especially if you’re involved, but he revels in your antics nonetheless.

you’re literally so fucking hilarious, each time he hears those heavy doors heave open beneath him he just KNOWS shit has gone down and you’re about to dramatise it for him live.

you best believe he’s an instigator the same way furina is; whispering to you and then giggling when you use his encouragement as some sort of reference while you practically spit venom at the person who’s unfortunately become your centre of focus.

he won’t allow you to stir up too much trouble in the fortress of meropide but being his partner you get the perk of not getting into nearly as much trouble as you would if you were one of the criminals down in the fortress (unless you are then…well you’re special so it doesn’t matter!)

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[dee-morris]

Aziraphale Made the Right Decision

I've talked about this before, but I'm doing it again because this is my blog and I do what I want.

Now, I pretty much can't stand anything about my country's government. Different leaders get different levels of vitriol from me, but overall it almost doesn't matter bc the overall system is so corrupt and slanted in favor of rich white people at the expense of everyone else. So yeah, if I could comfortably go off to live in the woods with my husband and my cat and never deal with anything ever again, that would be living the dream.

BUT.

Let's say a White House spokesperson shows up on my doorstep and offers me a job. I'm like, dude I do NOT want to work in DC. He offers a similar position to my husband, we could work together, really shake things up. I tell my husband, and he doesn't take it well. Tells me good luck and walks out. Ouch.

I'm wavering now, not sure what to do. I ask the White House guy what this job will entail.

They say, "Oh, we're starting World War 3. Nuclear Armageddon, all life on earth will most likely be extinguished, you know the drill. Ready to go?"

You're going to tell me that I can, in good conscience, say, "Actually I think I'll stay with my husband and watch the world burn. Thanks but no thanks."

Do I think they're actually going to let me have complete control of the situation? Of course not. Am I morally obligated to at least try because for fucks sake it's WORLD WAR 3???

Yeah, I'd say so.

This is setting aside all speculation about threats to Crowley, subtle control, anything we didn't see. And for the record, I think there's a LOT going on in that scene that we didn't see. But even if what we saw was all there was, Aziraphale made the right call.

[atanx]

James Somerton's "A Measured Response": A Measured Response

so I watched a reupload of the video because idk i like to torture myself. and i took a bunch of notes:

“I tried to be a voice for every member of the queer community, but that was a failed endeavour before it even started.”

what a strange way to say ‘I tried making it seem like I’m the only queer creator and stole from and actively harmed people in the queer community. knowingly. purposefully. and when I was called out in the past I tried to hide it.'

“I'm a cis, white, gay man. No matter how much I try to be a good spokesperson, I can never really, truly, understand the life experiences of other, far more put upon,  members of the queer community.”

so of course I stole and hid work from the people I can't understand, gutting it of their personal experiences and refused to redirect my audience to those people so that they can enrich themselves and hear about issues pertaining them from someone who actually does understand.

“...one of the reasons I used their own words. But I should have made it clear that that was what I was doing.”

BITCH YOU STOLE. YOU GUTTED THEIR STORIES OF MEANINGFUL PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. YOU WEREN'T USING THEIR WORDS TO BE ABLE TO TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU CAN'T ENTIRELY UNDERSTAND YOU WERE MILKING THEM FOR CONTENT AND DEPRIVING PEOPLE OF ACTUAL, SOULFUL, MEANINGFUL ARTICLES AND BOOKS AND DOCUMENTARIES AND VIDEOS THEY COULD HAVE BEEN WATCHING INSTEAD.

“Being a cis white man I thought I might win over some people who otherwise wouldn't listen.”

Yeah sure. Because racist transphobes are going to be watching your badly plagiarised gay film analysis.

“I would also like to apologise to Jessie Gender, who is one of the kindest people I ever met. Through my hot-headedness, I drew her into this anger spiral.”

‘through my hotheadedness.’. shirking responsibility onto an ‘ingrained personality trait of yours’ I see.

if you are so honestly sorry for being an asshole to Jessie why don't you fucking apologise to her directly? privately? not as a way to boost your own fucking image??

he's trying to earn good will by complimenting Jessie Gender “oh he knows to compliment an awesome person we have that in common I guess he can't be so bad after all” fuck you I recognise your strategies and it's gross to drag Jessie into this like that, she spoke out against you and you are trying to imply some sort of friendship or something between you. okay I cannot UNDERSTATE the way he tries to make it seem like they are close in some way and sort of drag her onto his side that's so fucking despicable. as far as I know Jessie Gender does not have a relationship with him of any kind?

once again bringing up death threats I see. obviously death threats are shite and anyone who threatens the dude in seriousness or harasses him will not see the light of heaven as Hbomberguy said but IN AN APOLOGY YOU DO NOT MAKE IT ABOUT YOU THAT'S MANIPULATION

also blaming the police for not clarifying a situation in a timely manner - the police are a flaming pile of garbage and I hope the institution explodes but NOT SAYING ANYTHING WAS YOUR CHOICE. THE POLICE DIDN'T MAKE YOU DO SHIT THERE

the problem isn't that you tried to “create a channel where all queer people could be safe”, the problem is that 1) you are a misogynist 2) you yourself engaged in transphobic behaviour and 3) you also actively supressed queer people's voices. The problem isn't that you supposedly wanted a space for all queer people, the problem is that you tried to MONOPOLISE queer literature analysis. fuck, queer doesn't look like a word anymore I've written it too many times now

(paraphrased) “I should have been helping with making queer people's voices discoverable” this makes it seem like he just didn't do anything and not like the reality that he was actively trying to rewrite history and bury LQBTQIA+ voices under his steaming pile of garbage

also BLAMING YOUTUBE AND THE ALGORITHM FOR ‘PUSHING HIM’ because he's cis and white, like maybe they did, I certainly wouldn't be surprised, but that is not why other creators suffered, a large part of that can be attributed to James Somerton stealing their work without any acknowledgement whatsoever apart maybe if they are lucky, a “based on” in the credits or their name flashing on screen for half a second.

“I should have done more to share the voices of other queer people” THAT IMPLIES YOU DID SOMETHING. YOU WERE ACTIVELY WORKING AGAINST THAT YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT-

“it was just my dweam to be a youtubew and when my videos gained twaction i felt pwessuwed to make mowe vewy quickly and that's why they wewe so shit uwu” fuck off you weren't pressured into shit you just wanted to make money and that's why you were a content mill

“early on I thought that crediting authors in the opening credits alone was enough” what about the times YOU DIDN'T EVEN DO THAT??? YOU'RE MAKING THIS SEEM LIKE THE DRAMA IS ABOUT YOU CREDITING PEOPLE WRONG WHEN ITS ABOUT YOUR SYSTEMATIC THEFT AND OPPRESSION OF THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE VIDEOS FOR AND ABOUT AND THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE A SAFE SPACE FOR. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WATCHES YOUR VIDEOS?? WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID YOU CAN'T JUST PLAY IT DOWN

not him using Hbomberguy's example of the DEEP CUTS: SOCIETY AND QUEER HORROR video and claiming he credited all people in the opening scene when Hbomberguy highlighted he DIDNT EVEN CREDIT MOST OF THEM FUCK OFF ARE YOU DELUSIONAL HOW DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

I think I'm going insane this all seems so blatantly fake. he brings up the evil queens video and how he asked Sean Griffin, retroactively, permission to include his work in the video. and he shows a ‘screenshot’ of an email Griffin allegedly wrote to thank him for putting him in the title-card and that he thinks it is ‘a very thoughtful video’. only the text of the email header, such as Griffin's name, the RE:, and the To: is a lot smaller than the ‘text’ in the email, which leads me to believe that the below text is edited in some way. And with how hard James is trying to rewrite history, it wouldn't surprise me if he literally rewrote the email or cut things out to present himself in a more positive light. obviously I can't prove that the email is fake but I'll just say that I think the likelihood is very high that it is.

the way he says this also implies that he asked for permission after he made the video but hadn't published it yet. which is also blatantly false.

again trying to waltz off responsibility on nick, saying he was much more interested in production and implying that nick did all the writing .

“nick and I had both grown up poor so when I lost my job in 2021 (approx.) we of course were desperate and turned to producing videos even quicker and plagiarising the fuck out of all of them! but we can't help it we were both poor as kids!” fuck off, you weren't poor when plagiarising every-fucking-thing, this was in “the second year of COVID”. obviously if they really did grow up poor that sucks, and that's why we should eat the rich and redistribute their money. not plagiarise people who partly are poor or not financially cushy and manipulate thousands of people into believing you are the only queer creator.

also milking his mom's cancer. if you were really that worried about your financial situation, one would think that you would get an actual job for security and not put everything into your youtube career that is unstable, especially considering you've already done a lot of plagiarism and have no intention of stopping. “oh I plagiarised because my mom had cancer QAQ” that is so digusting to use a person's medical condition like that.

“i have memory issues because of a head injury i suffered as a child and that's why I plagiarise badly. see, I copy pasted the text with the intention to rephrase it later but forgot.” that would still be fucking plagiarism if he'd done that, also, if he's so aware of his memory issues and how they lead to him plagiarising, why didn't he try to work around that? leave himself notes? or tell nick to remind him to integrate actual proper credit and citations before uploading a video? mark the plagiarised stuff in the document with like highlighter or so when you're pasting it in?? oh but he didn't do all of that because he has ADHD. now, ADHD can be debilitating, but he says it's recently diagnosed so it must not have caused a lot of problems for him so far, so it's probably not severe and even if it is, it doesn't excuse him not crediting people properly. stop fucking hiding behind things ‘you can’t change' because if you truly can't you probably shouldn't be doing this in the first place.

“my mom really wanted me to make a movie with her life insurance but that wasn't paid out so I decided to crowdfund it. i planned to underpay the actors so hard it was under union wages. we got more money than we were expecting and upgraded to wanting to film a feature (final girl) but i didn't want to start working on it until the campaign was over for some reason that totally isn't me just wanting to exploit people for money!”

I'm not gonna go into the Telos stuff but he tries to explain it by claiming it was very unorganised and that's why they constantly ran into issues and that's why nothing ever got done and they were JUST about to start doing stuff when the Hbomberguy video released. You know what, I can believe it, although I am very doubtful considering all James ever does is lie. Idk. 

once again trying to excuse his plagiarism with needing to pay two rents and thus needing to make more videos for more sponsors and not having the time to not plagiarise like please. i don't believe that they were in that dire need of money and if they were - just get a fucking stable job and put youtube on the backburner. 

also once again trying to make it all about him by once again talking about his suicide attempt and death threats. like. no one should suffer through that kind of mental anguish but honestly I cannot bring myself to feel sympathy for this man. and i see this as an attempt to gather pity points.

“nick worked very hard on these videos other three years and it's unfair to [them] (james says that they're non-binary but doesn't indicate their pronouns anywhere? and in the beginning he uses they/them but later only he/him so idk what their pronouns are but it seems like they/them is at least part of their pronouns so i'm just going to use that) that they all got taken down” well y'all shouldn't have fucking plagiarised then. let this be a lesson maybe and don't fucking show your face on youtube again!

he is fucking relaunching his channel. like james. this isn't something you come back from. no one will ever be able to trust you ever again and you don't deserve an audience. he claims all the revenue will go to Hbomberguy's fund but we have no way to verify this. we have no way to know just how much he makes and how much of that is actually going to the fund. i don't trust him with any money. which is why i watched a reupload rather than the original. he's also releasing a new video he claims is entirely by him. like?????? don't???????

he also might not relaunch his existing patreon but he's still making a new one.

he claims he will “work his ass off” to make non-plagiarised videos. like that isn't “working your ass off” that's the bare fucking minimum. I really want to trust him. and I want to believe he'll actually try to do better. and maybe he will. and i believe in second chances, even for someone as despicable as him. but throughout this video he has continuously tried to play down what he did. tried to make excuses for everything. and that's why i am not going to give him a second chance. if he can't even admit what he did i don't trust him to not do it again. and i also just plainly don't want to endorse a person making such arguments.

also, he plugs his fucking new patreon right after this.

“this video is not about me promoting myself. it's about me apologising.” the only fucking person you actually ‘apologised’ to is Jessie Gender. 

James Somerton: makes a billion fucking excuses. Also James Somerton: “These are not excuses. There is no excuse for what I did.”

this entire video was just a publicity stunt. he tries to humanise himself and repair his image. this is just a tool to be able to continue on and continue making money.

he also still claims the disney video was based on the Celluloid Closet and he credited the author and ignores that this wasn't the only author he fucking plagiarised in that video. he is trying to reduce his plagiarsm to incorrect crediting and mistakes and that is disgusting.

the least he could have done was mention by name out loud every author he plagiarised and what work he plagiarised. not just say “uuuh i'm sorry to everyone I plagiarised QAQ”

[cenittxnadir]

A little fever (Nightcrawler x Reader)

Okey, so this is my very firt story with Kurt. I´ll be posting more soon about him, for the moment I will only write about him. So please tell me if you like it or if you some ideas. You know the drip, english is not my first lenguage... nor german...

Having free time was something new within the mansion, now with Magneto in charge of the institute and reorganizing the activities among the inhabitants of the mansion, he left several mutants without many responsibilities other than taking care of the minors and ensuring that they complete their tasks and training. Because yes, Magneto may be a terrorist and a murderer, but he will never be irresponsible towards education, especially towards the youngest members of the house. So every day he personally made sure that each and every one of the young people attended their classes.

Very responsible on his part, but it does not take away the feeling of discomfort in some of the members, especially the X-Men like Wolverine or Scott, -the only thing they have agreed on since Professor Xaver died-

However, this didn't bother you that much, since you shared the idea with Rogue of giving Magnus a second chance. Because if life had given you a second chance to do things well and help others with your powers, why would you be the one who would deny it to someone else who in the end only seeks to continue with the Professor's dream. Maybe a very innocent or naive move on your part in wanting to see the best in the worst situations but they couldn't blame you either, that's what happens when you live for a long time with a certain blue ex-priest.

Kurt Wagner or better known as Nightcrawler is famous among the mansion even though his humility does not allow him to recognize it, but he is very loved within the mutant community, both at the institute and in Genosha. Since his arrival at the mansion, Kurt has been the echo of the people who continue their struggle and the voice of those who cannot raise it due to the impunity that lives in a world where being different was wrong.

But for you, more than a spokesperson or a faithful follower of God's teachings, he was a man, a very good one whom you had the fortune of calling boyfriend and sharing life with him for a couple of years now.

Unfortunately, being someone who was too influential within the community, Magneto relied a lot on him and his professionalism to deal with complicated issues within Genosha. He was recently offered the position as Faith Group Mediator in Genosha and it was definitely not an opportunity he would pass up, there was so much to do and learn. But Kurt is still one person against the hundreds of problems that a nascent nation can have, the poor man was exhausted but his determination to help was greater than his physical or emotional ailments.

You had been living apart for a couple of months now, the problem was not the distance, Megneto was kind to you and gave you access to the Jet as many times as you wanted so you could go visit him, but like Kurt, you were also someone important among the X-Men, you were a very good teacher and guide for the younger ones who were just awakening their abilities and Magneto needed you in that area. It was not an easy decision for the two of you but it was a good opportunity to explore new areas in your lives, you as the one in charge of guiding and educating the new generations and him as a founding member of the nation that would accommodate those new generations.

Lately due to both of their workloads it has caused communication to be minimal, but this would soon change for you since the holidays were approaching and you would have more free time and the possibility of visiting him for a couple of weeks but the problem is that Kurt was not answering your messages or calls, worried you went to the person you least expected to go to discuss a topic of this type.

It was the 5th turn you had taken in the hallway that led to Magneto's office door. You didn't know how to start the conversation or how to ask him, maybe Kurt was very busy and going to visit him would only delay him in his work and you didn't want that to cause him problems with Magneto, even though he now plays for the good guys you are still afraid of him. Whatever the reason Kurt wasn't responding, you had to make a decision right then and there.

A couple more turns and you almost left marks from your shoes on the carpet.

"Come on, you can do it. It's just Magneto, the greatest mutant ex-terrorist in history, what could go wrong?" You started to encourage yourself "Come on, don't you want to see Kurt?" You counted to three, it's now or never. You barely touched the wooden door when it opened.

"I was just going to look for you" "Me? Why?" You were more confused "You might want to sit down." He said something serious as he offered you a seat. "It's about Kurt. He's not okay, there was a flu outbreak on the island recently, nothing alarming, but, he hasn't stopped working since he arrived in Genosha, I've trying to talk to him, he needs to rest and recover from the fever but he doesn't listen to me"

You didn't know what impressed you more, Magneto's concern or Kurt being sick. No one knows if it's part of his mutation or if he just has a good immune system, but it's extremely rare for Kurt to get sick. "I need you to go to Genosha and stop him, it seems that he only listens to you."

"Well... that explains why he doesn't want to talk to me. He doesn't answer my messages, much less my calls. I just hope that after this you give him a break from so much work, Erick." You were a little upset with him, with both of them actually, Erick for making Kurt work too much and Kurt because he is not good at asking for help. "I'll leave right away"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It only took you a few minutes to get everything ready to go, you thought Hank would be more reluctant to lend you the Jet but as soon as he found out what was happening with Kurt he didn't think twice. After a couple of hours you finally arrived at the mutant nation of Genosha, everything was very different from the first time you visited just a couple of months ago. Everything was very beautiful, the lights, the people so colorful and friendly, children being free and happy. It was a dream.

Quickly got out of your thoughts and focused on finding your blue boyfriend who is most likely hiding away working. It was not difficult to find it, Magneto gave instructions on where to look and sure enough. Inside a large window in the main city building was Kurt... well, part of him, you could only see his pointy ears behind a pile of paper towers.

You slowly approached to knock on his door. Silence. Suddenly there was only the sound of a chair being dragged and something moving inside the room. A few seconds later the door opened revealing a rather tired Kurt. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, which didn't shine like they usually did.

"Meine Liebe?" You couldn't help but smile as you listened to Kurt, he sounded overly impressed to see you. Although the smile did not last long since Kurt sounded very bad, he was hoarse and if it were not for the light from the hallway that illuminated his face you would have ignored the color in his cheeks and the sweat on his forehead.

"You're not okay, Krut, you need to rest" was the only thing you could respond, opening the door completely and revealing the office, there were hundreds of papers scattered all over the place. "You haven't stopped working since you arrived. You had me worried" Kurt didn't say anything, just hung his head in some shame. "It's true, I didn't tell you anything because I didn't want to worry you, I wanted to finish work so I could return to the mansion with you as a surprise but work just keeps piling up and this flu won't leave me alone" He sounded really fed up with the situation.

"Come on, you have to rest. I'll take you home and prepare you something to eat." You took him by the arm carefully. "You probably haven't eaten anything useful all day."

"Of course I have eaten my love! Here in Genosha there is a lot of variety of food and delicious dishes" He said with his circus voice, he always uses it when he is happy or wants to show you something that excites him very much. Or well, with a voice attempt, it really sounded very hoarse

"Dear, candy and desserts don't count as food." You pointed to a pile of wrappers on the side of his desk. "I'm surprised you've never actually had a toothache or something at this point."

You approached his desk to arrange the papers he was working on. "Well, take your things, let's go get something to eat and let you rest."

"But Mein Schatz, I still have a lot of work to do. I can't leave, but you can go ahead and make yourself at home" He gave you the keys to his room

"Kurt, I came here to check on you and make sure you're resting and for God's sake that's what I'm going to do. If I have to take drastic measures or even if I have to drag you to your room I will do it. Don't make me go to extremes Kurt Wagner" You wanted to sound serious but it was almost impossible, you were too happy to see him.

"If you continue to be reckless, then I will have to leave and there will be no cuddling sessions for at least a whole month, anyway you are very busy with your work. I think I better go" You said with a fake sad tone as you walked towards the exit but a huge gasp stopped you.

"You wouldn't dare do that! Saying that is like blasphemy." Kurt looked at his desk for a second. "On second thought, going to rest doesn't sound so bad." He looked at you with concern, he really thought you were going to leave him without his sessions. They were sacred to him.

"Well, let's go. It's still early, if we leave right now we'll have more time for ourselves." You didn't even finish speaking when Kurt was already on the side of the door ready to leave with you.

When you got to his room you could see Kurt better, his face was tired and the fever was still there.

"Why don't you take a bath while I'll take care of the food?" you took his face in your hands, caressing his cheek and then leaving a kiss on his nose.

The bath took effect and soon his temperature began to drop but he still had to eat something before taking his medicine. They were both sitting on the couch eating some hot soup while watching something on television, although it was just background noise.

Kurt was telling you what his days had been like since he arrived, you were paying attention but you couldn't help but see how he rubbed his shoulder constantly.

"Love? Are you okay?" you pointed to his shoulder

"Ah, it's nothing, it's just that I haven't been able to sleep well lately and well... sitting for hours is not very pleasant" He said with a sideways smile showing one of his fangs.

Without saying anything you took him by the hand and led him to the bed, asking him to lie face down while you took some oils and creams from your backpack. Kurt initially refused because he knew he was going to fall asleep and wanted to spend the night awake with you talking. Not a very smart plan considering his state of health. The complaints were short-lived once he felt your hands on his back. Almost by magic, Kurt remained silent and soon you only heard small snoring due to his congestion. You couldn't help but laugh a little, he looked so adorable. You took his blanket and tucked him in, giving him a kiss on the head.

You quickly cleaned what was used during dinner and changed your clothes to lie next to Kurt, who almost as if it were a magnetic force moved until he was lying on your chest. You were definitely going to wake up with the flu but that didn't matter.

"Please don't go," Kurt said in his sleep.

"No, my love. I'm going to stay here with you"

[lacedupforyou]

i really wanna see your yandere kaiser and yandere rin hcs !! like them being manipulative and doing everything in their power to see you crawl back to them

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 |

|Reader is their manager/spokesperson| This is if they became famous football players |

ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴋᴀɪsᴇʀ ~

You being Michael's agent, He was very uninterested at first, But seeing you defend him and stick up for him he started to find you cute. How far would he have to go for you to snap? What makes you tick? He believes you're meant to serve him. But this attitude quickly turns to obsession. He'd only go to meetings if you asked him nicely. Begging . For you, It was hell. Like babysitting 24/7 to a selfish arrogant man. He believes you're serving him. Attention gains as he's always seen walking with you closely. He becomes more interested every minute you speak to him, Bring him something if he needs it, keeps him in check. It felt nice to be served as the king he believes he is.

As his obsession grows and he sees your caring and almost loving side. You doing your job . He get's pretty physical, Escalating from a hand on your hand, Hand on your head, Hand on your thigh. It felt so nice. He felt so crazy for this touch, Your his servant and the king always get's what he wants.

Of course you grow tired of this torment, The begging to go to meetings and pleading to be decent to interviewers, The touches he made towards you, The way he spoke to you and treated you.

You had finally had enough.

"I'm dropping you Michael. I'm sure you'll find tons of others agent but I can't do it anymore. I'm so tired and I need to go. I wish you the best for your future." You didn't dare look him in the eyes as you said that. He was frozen and didn't say anything, You brushed it off and began walking to the door.

Michael grabbed your wrist saying "How dare you..Dropping your king? Don't leave. Don't go. You're mine. I won't let you leave. Ever."

"Get off me Michael!" he pulled you closer and..Hugged you? He draped his arms over your back but held his hands firmly over your waist. "Shut up. You're not leaving get it through your head. I will ruin your career if you even think about leaving me again. I will leak any secret you have, Any photo, Anything. You won't leave."

"I don't care, You have nothing on me anyways, I've never done anything." You reply harshly.

He smirks at your words, Feeling his ego grow. He pulled out his phone. Scrolling a moment, His smile widens . He flashes the screen of you half naked sleeping on his apartment couch. But you got home..That night..? Your head spins. Everyone will think you slept with him..That your a slut of an agent..Your career WILL be over..

"Changed your mind? Good." Kaiser smiles. He holds you in his arms again. He shudders as he inhales your smell. His touch is suffocating.

But there's no escaping it. There's no escaping him.

ɪᴛᴏsʜɪ ʀɪɴ ~

As you became his agent the relationship you both had was very..Quiet. He never really spoke to you. you reminding him things just lead to a simple "Ok." Honestly you thought he didn't like you as he always seemed to hold the same bored glare. You felt bad he had to have an agent he didn't like.

Little did you know, He was too nervous around you. Everytime you shook his hand or smiled at him. He would have to use a hand and ball it into a fist to not blush. Digging his nails in to take his mind off. Though not healthy, Effective. That was his idea to win you over.

He just needs you to keep coming to him. To keep trying harder. He won't break and neither will you. Wait, You look upset. Why are you holding a letter?

You rushed and handed him the letter walking out of the room. The letter said

" Dear Mr Itoshi it had been an honor to be your manager. I noticed you had not taken a liking to me and I believe you would do better with another agent. The time with you has been lovely. I'm sorry I was not a right fit for you. -Y/n"

He sprinted out the door rushing faster than ever. Looking everywhere frantically. Until he spotted you leaving the buildings main doors. He rushed over to you. "Where are you going..!?"

"I'm leaving..I don't think we're a good team working together, I didn't even think you liked me. I don't want to get in the way of you, You're a star And I-"

"Don't go. You can't go. You won't. I won't let you." He holds onto your shirt tightly. You're frozen in shock by his words. His actions.

"No no, It's fine seriously I'm sure you'll find someone else.. I have to leave the country anyways. It was amazing working with you Itosh-"

You're cut off by his hand hitting a pressure your point, Your body goes numb and you pass out. Falling into his arms. He carried you bridal style back to his luxury apartment room inside the building. A small smile etched on his features. He had you laying on his bed with some rope around your wrists

"You are never leaving me." Rin whispers as he get's closer and closer.

| The end! Submit me any requests! |

[deelavis]

I'm sure that some has talked about this before, but I have always been confused about Mello's reasoning for kidnapping Takada. I finished a read through of the Death Note manga recently and I FINALLY feel like I understand why. I'm going to break this down into 2 sections: Why he did it, and Did he intend to die?

Why he did it:

While I think it's meant to be kept somewhat vague for narrative purposes, the thing that I never understood fully was the wording in the scene:

Why specifically "his" name? Of course this line always made my little Meronia heart flutter, but before my manga read through I never quite understood it. If Near's plan to catch Kira went wrong, all of the SPK would die, not just Near. So why the emphasis on him? Especially if we are looking at a completely surface level reading of DN where Mello purely hates Near? But then I found this moment a few chapters earlier:

To summarize what is happening before and after these pages (Chapter 90), Near tells Light that there are 4 members of the SPK and that he is in Japan. He says they might meet soon. This is all coded language to challenge Light to an in person meeting. At this point Near admits that he doesn't have a concrete plan in place for confronting Light. But he knows they must meet Kira face to face and prove his identity by having a name written in the Death Note. This is prior to the SPK starting their investigation into Mikami. The part that stuck out to me was " When we meet Kira, the first person he'll write down is me, so..." To me this means that prior to finding Mikami and adding fake pages to the death note, Near planned to sacrifice himself to catch Kira if they didn't have any other options. This DIRECTLY correlates to Mello's line (read right to left):

Mello kidnapped Takada because he knew that if he didn't there was a good chance Near would die. This is literally the only reason that the text give us. Which leads me to our next part.

Did he intend to die?

While I've seen a lot of different takes on this, many of which I find very interesting, I now believe that yes, Mello kidnapped Takada with the intention to be killed by the death note. Here is my reasoning.

Mello knows better than anyone else investigating Kira how the death note works. Like L wanted to before his death, Mello used his time in the mafia to experiment with the rules of both the death note AND the shinigami eyes.

In the manga, Mello has one of the mafia members Kal Snydar (a.k.a. Jack Neylon) make a deal for the shinigami's eyes. Rod and Mello use Snydar's eyes to kill others for an extended period of time. This would give Mello at least a basic understanding of how they work; what face coverings inhibit the eyes, etc... And then after his encounter with Soichiro Yagami he becomes aware that there is always a chance that anyone associated with Kira could have the eyes. He also knows that Kira knows his name but not his face after the explosion. Meaning that he would know that the ONLY thing stopping Kira from killing him would be his face. Given that Mello never uses the death note himself but had other's use it for him, I believe that he also would theorize that Kira would do the same (such as X-Kira/Mikami, Misa, and Takada). Because of all of this he would be especially careful around anyone he knows has connections to Kira, such as Takada the spokesperson of Kira.

Moving on to the kidnapping. Mello wears a motorcycle helmet that appears to be tinted, but is clear enough to fully discern his face through. We know from previous instances that a dark tinted visor will block the shinigami's eyes from seeing your name, which most motorcycle helmets already have. Here is a comparison of a helmet used to block the face vs what Mello wore:

Mello specially chose one with a clear enough visor to see through. You could argue that he did this to show Halle who he was, allowing him to take Takada. However if this was his intention there were many other ways to make his identity clear to Halle without revealing his face. There is also the line on this page that intrigues me. "She's connected to Kira... Unless I do this..." The sentence structure implies that there is a direct consequence Mello envisions. Unless you do this...then what? Given everything else I have outlined above to me the implication is "Unless I do this then Near will die." You could argue that he’s thinking something like “Unless I do this then Near will win!” However, Mello has always been outspoken in his desire to be the one to catch Kira. If that’s what he was thinking wouldn’t it just say that? Whatever his reason is is something he can’t bring himself to say even in the privacy of his own brain.

If you were to argue that Mello didn't realize that his helmet was clear enough to see his face, this is then made moot when he takes it off in front of Takada. There was no reason for him to do this, in fact, there were a multitude of reasons not to. Even if Takada didn't have death note pages on her, Mello knows that if she escapes, Kira could easily ask her to write his name in the death note because she knows his face. You may then think "but why does Mello take precautions to not get followed and killed by Takada's men? He takes away and ships off anything that could be bugged and tracked including her clothing." This just further proves that he is trying to be killed specifically by the death note. The kidnapping is planned to a T, but he doesn't take the simplest precaution of concealing his face from one of Kira's biggest supporters.

So what was Mello’s plan? We know that Mello is someone who plans for a lot of different contingencies. We see this when he plants bombs through out his safe house in the event that he’s backed into a corner. Because of this I believe he had a few different plans. But no matter what his goal with kidnapping Takada is to force contact with Kira. In fact, Near thinks that Mello’s goal is to use Takada as bait.

What his exact plan was up in the air for me. He may have intended to be killed by her, thinking that she had access to a death note when kidnapped which would explain why he didn’t check her over before giving her the blanket to cover herself. He states that his intention of taking her clothes is to removing any tracers so her bodyguards didn’t find them. They make a deal that he will give her the blanket before taking off her underwear, where she’s hiding her pages of the death note.

Even if Mello didn’t know that you can used pages torn out of the death note, there are a few time in the series when a person hides a full death note under their clothes (Near being my favorite example). So it’s not out of the question that she could have had one tucked into the back of her underwear.

His plan also could have been to release her in some way so that she could get back to Kira and use the death note. Mello knows Kira has his name, now with Takada having seen his face Kira would have her write Mello’s name for him. Or it could have been that he intended to use her to draw Kira out and get killed by the death note in the process.

Going back to our first example from the manga, Near says "The fact that we replaced the pages in the notebook and the notebook happened to be a fake… I find it hard to believe that Mello thought that far ahead." I do agree with Near here. I don't think that Mello had figured out that the notebook was fake. But I do think that Mello could see that Near's plan had holes in it, and any mistake would result in Near getting killed. His solution was to be the name that was written in the book instead. You can argue in a lot of different ways why it was important to Mello that Near lives. Such as, Mello knew that with Near dead he didn't have any hope of catching Kira by himself with all of this resources and allies depleted. Or my favorite reason, despite his protests Mello deeply cares for Near and was willing to die if it meant Near would survive.

Please let me know any of your thoughts!

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 2

/ Click here to read the first part!

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, heartless Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of drugs, mention of alcohol, mention of sex, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 2031

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

After your argument with Ben about Countess Noir and your relationship, which occurred a month ago, he hardly spoke to you at all. He never looked you in the eye, either. You were never even certain if his love existed in the first place, but it was clear that the thing between you and Ben had been extinguished forever, even though he hadn't formally ended your relationship with words.

You considered leaving Payback behind, but you found it difficult to distance yourself from Ben, which bothered and despised you about yourself. You were terrified that Ben would harm Earving, in addition to the possibility that he wouldn't mind you leaving the squad. After all, he was your sole friend, and Ben's attitude towards him was cruel and rough. He was merciless to everyone except for Countess.

You denied producing movies, TV shows, or signing days since it was too much to bear to watch Crimson and Ben together, participate in commercials, and be the star of movies in front of your eyes. You just stopped showing up with the squad day by day. Nonetheless, when the rumors surfaced that you would soon leave the group, you were forced to sit with Ben and listen to him while he talked absolute bullshit to the cameras.

When the reporter asked you a question, you were so deep in confusion that you couldn't even begin to count how many times you were asked the same question. You were deep in thought when the reporter asked the same question.

“I'm sorry,” You apologized, giving the TV reporter a feeble smile. “I couldn't catch you.” You were irritated by the number of times you were given the same questions over and over again.

You felt that all you wanted to do was shout and punch everybody who spoke to you and asked you pointless questions about Ben and Crimson, as if it were your responsibility to speak and you were their spokesperson regarding their romance or something. All they saw was a façade of lies; if only someone could see through you and realize that you were drowning in all of them.

He kept talking about the rumors, and you felt like you were about to go crazy in front of the camera and kill someone. At that point, the pressure you were under became too much for you to handle. You ignored all the sounds around you and repressed your tears as you inhaled deeply.

“Look, you know, I have things to do. I apologize if I sound impolite, but it would be preferable if you directed those questions to Crimson and Soldier Boy. After all, it's their life to tell, not mine.”

When you attempted to back away to ask another question, the unsettlingly inquisitive man grabbed your arm. God alone knew how much you wanted to break those arms at that very moment and make him eat his own flesh.

Disregarding your previous statement, he uttered, “Y/N, please inform us. Are they really getting married soon? Don't you think it would be fantastic if the strongest supe woman and strongest supe man got married? A formidable duo! Power Couple! The American public is curious about that.”

He was babbling nonsensically and was clearly trying to get you to kill him. Even though you weren't saying a damn thing, he continued talking about them, and you inhaled deeply and waited for him to finish. When he identified Countess as the strongest female supe, you gave him a little smile.

You replied coolly, “I really don't know about their next move. But allow me to ask you a question. Have you witnessed her battling me?”

You stared him in the eyes when you posed the question, as though it were the most important one ever. The way you changed your attitude startled him.

“Well, no,” he said with a confused look on his face.

“Then what makes you believe that she is the world's strongest supe woman?” You continued to smile at him and continued, “Let's just say I'm curious.”

Crimson wouldn't have a chance against you; you knew it. Ben also knew that. However, you felt unimportant and left her aside each passing day because of the way she was seen as the strongest female supe. You were aware that Ben was assisting her in completing the objectives assigned to her—unlike you, she was never able to complete any of them successfully. She just appeared to be powerful and tough because she was with Ben, not because she was really something.

You were aware that her sole concerns were money and reputation, and neither Ben nor the squad mattered to her. A woman could always see right through another woman.

You suddenly burst out laughing when he opened his mouth. Saying, “Hey, I'm just kidding; relax,” you interrupted him before he could say anything more foolish. “But I really have things to do, okay? Glad to meet you. Have a nice day.”

Fuck, you turned into the biggest liar in a single month because of Ben.

Earving saw you had at last escaped the incessant inquiries and the obnoxious reporter, so he followed you to the van. He was also taking a vacation from marketing his latest film. After taking off his mask long enough to sip his, he handed you a soda.

“Hey, what's the deal? You know, you seem anxious these days.” He ate his hamburger quickly and remarked, “I heard the conversation between you and this idiot man. Fuck him; they are so fucking irritating sometimes, it’s hard to stop myself from breaking their necks.”

You took a big sip of your soda and gave him a nod. It was nice to have small talk with Earving, considering he was the only kind and smart person left in the squad after all.

“Yeah,” you said while Ben and Countess got out of their special trailer, and you watched them with a heavy heart when Ben gave her quick and playful kisses.

It was Ben's blindness and his intense care for her that pained you, and it was his seeming blitheness and comfort around her that made you hurt. It was obvious to you that she was lying and tricking him. Witnessing Ben give her everything he didn’t bother to give you wounded you. They had a really open connection, even if there was still some space between you when you were dating.

You were concealed by him like a rat in the shadows, unlike her.

The countess never once left his side, not even for a moment. You were frantically trying to find a moment to speak with Ben once again. If you had been alone with him, you would have succeeded in discovering the cause of his sudden and dramatic change.

“Earving,” you said like a whisper. “Can you distract Countess for tonight?” You turned to him with pleading eyes.

“Why?” he asked as he ate his third hamburger.

“Can you just do it?” You huffed as you kept watching Ben from afar.

“Fine,” he said with his full mouth, spitting the tomatoes. “You fucking stress me out since you’ve started to act like Soldier Boy.”

“Don’t insult me,” you said as you chuckled, punching him softly and stealing his last hamburger.

When Earving managed to divert Countess, it was midnight, and you saw them vanish out of sight. When you saw Ben pull into his own trailer, your heart began to race, and you quickly followed him. You made a self-promise to try it one final time. After all, you were doing this for one another, and when it came to love, pride had no place.

When you entered the trailer, you locked the door immediately, leaned your back against the door, and your hands stilled on the handle as if he would escape any moment. It was dim inside.

You heard him inhaling deeply before he turned his back to you and gave you a look like you were an insect that simply refused to leave the house in the summertime. Though you were close to him physically, the distance between you and his coldness toward you was visible.

He gave you a stern look and maintained his distance from you, asking in a harsh voice, “Why the fuck are you here again? Are you going to start spreading gossip about us?”

You just answered, “No,” disregarding his sour tone and remarks. “Ben, all I want to do is talk.”

“I fucking have things to do; cut it short.”

He was leaning back against the drug- and alcohol-filled table. Though it was obvious that he was getting worse every day, he was unable to recognize his condition. 

“Why did you change so suddenly? Did I do something wrong?” Not wanting to come across as hostile and cause him to harm you verbally once more, you asked in a quiet voice. “I just need a simple explanation.”

You continued to stare at him with wet eyes, and he sighed and gave you his signature grin.

“Just admit your pussy missed me; that’s why you are so desperate, so I can give you a good and quick fuck,” he said, giving you a playful look.

Aware that he was only attempting to divert the conversation or embarrass you, you remained silent and paid no attention to the garbage that was pouring out of his mouth.

“Why, Ben?”

“Why do you act like a fucking obsessive woman? Do you need an explanation? Fine, listen to me carefully, then: I can do whatever I want. Is that good enough for you? ”

With a heavy heart, your hands on the door handle tightened. Ignoring his harsh words, your jaw clenched, and you shook your head in denial.

“Why did you act like you loved me and cared about me then?”

“What love? Fuck, I don’t even like you,” he snapped out of nowhere, irritated by the choice of your words. “We just passed some time and fucked, that’s all. Don’t be a bitch about it; you’ll get over it,” he said, giving you a wink.

He sounded so different and cold that it was hard to believe he was the same man with whom you fell in love so deeply months ago. It was like someone else possessed his body and turned him against you in a day.

“Why do you even look at me with such hatred?” you asked, ignoring how much his words pained your heart. Your voice cracked, not knowing how to handle the situation or his unbalanced behavior anymore.

“Fuck!” he screamed at you, finally losing his temper and making a move to approach while you still leaned your back against the door. “You know what? I’m going to marry her.”

You loosened your hand around the doorknob and cupped his face without hesitation, knowing he would do it just to make sure you suffered.

“I swear I’ll walk away the day you marry her, Ben,” you said with a desperate voice, hoping it would mean something to him. “I’ll leave Payback.”

“Fuck you will,” he clenched his jaw, pushing your back against the door. “I fucking swear, the day you leave will be the day of Noir‘s death. No, I’ll make sure to make him even worse.”

“What kind of monster have you turned into?” You whispered and pushed him off of you.

“Yet you told me you loved me,” he said, giving you an unsincere smile.

“I do love you, Ben, and that’s the last time you hear this from me.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: I was very surprised to see that you wanted another part for this so-called one shot story. Your comments made me very happy.

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series!

[cande2oo6]

FINALE SPOILERS!!

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[I know I'm going to sound a bit fantasma ("ghostly") ("fantasma" is an Argentine expression to refer to a person or action that shows a strong egocentrism, believing themselves to be more than they are) with this but I really want to say it, sorry]

I liked the episode, although I will admit that it disappointed me a little things I didn't like very much:

- The fart jokes. Are you kidding me? I mean, I know it makes sense at least with the confetti explosion (which believe me, I like to a certain extent since it helps to highlight a serious state), but I still didn't like it very much (especially in the end, but at least they did acknowledge that)

- The anti-fairies. Is it just me or did they become dumber? Their actions in the fight disappointed and bothered me quite a bit

- Dev and Peri. I think I spoke for the majority when I said I expected a better reconciliation, I mean, they barely interacted!

- Dev and Dale. I was expecting something a little more dramatic

- Irep's "betrayal" felt half-baked. In my opinion, it was obvious that Irep wanted to betray Dev, but it never really became "official" so to speak

- Anti Wanda and Anti Cosmo didn't have much involvement, and they didn't interact with either Irep or Dev

- Jorgen and Dale weren't scolded out even a little bit. Jorgen, Dev didn't need a newbie who probably just became a godfather to carry on a legacy. And Dale, REALLY WANTED HIM TO SUFFER EVEN ONE SMALL THING BUT IT DIDN'T HAPPEN

- Dev's suffering is taken as a joke

- Wanda doesn't look as upset and scared as I would have expected about Peri exploding

- The "DEEP DEEP" joke. I feel like it would have been funnier (and less annoying) if Wanda had actually been actually upset in the episode (something a little more like when she met Irep again)

"Umm... I'm not sure" stuff:

- Hazel's friends and brother retain their memories. I don't know, I wasn't really convinced, but it's innovative, curious and interesting

- The fight against the anti-fairies in general

- Irep neglects Peri. And yes, it's kind of dumb, but think about it for a moment. We already know that Irep hates Peri, but in the previous series he saw and suffered the consequences of affecting Poof (sorry for this but it's canon) in "Timmy's secret wish", he KNOWS that if Peri dies he will too

- Hazel's friends and brother not being so surprised about the existence of magic. It makes some sense but still...

- Dev loses Peri. It was fair, but I wish they'd apologized to each other even though

- There was no parallel between Irep and Dev. I was hoping they'd do something about how they both feel like shadows of other, but emphasizing that Irep is genuinely bad and Dev isn't that bad at heart

Things that put me in "LET'S FUCKING GOOOO" mode:

- Anti Wanda and Anti Cosmo are part of the same idiot

- Anti Wanda isn't as dumb and nice as she seemed in the other series

- Pattypossum and Nottimmy holding hands, Crocker saying "I was right! 😃" and Jorgen erasing everyone's memories. Just little details and jokes that I like

- Dev and Hazel's conversation. I would have liked to see them interact a bit more, but I'm satisfied

- Peri being a spokesperson in the finale. Acknowledging the horrible joke and demanding a second season

But as I said, I liked it, and I look forward to a second season with other characters that were never mentioned or appeared, like the pixies, Chester, Trixie, Norm, Juandissimo, etc.

What's your opinion of the finale? :)

[fromthespaceamundo]

Blossom, from The Powerpuff Girls (1998)

"She's the indisputable leader and spokesperson with fiery red hair tied up in her trade mark red bow. Her perfect combination of brains and beauty often saves the day.

Despite having just learned the alphabet and having to be in bed by eight o'clock, Blossom takes her responsibilities seriously, giving her an aura that goes well beyond her years.

She is the child who thinks she needs to be an adult. The funny thing is her idea of what an adult is, can be a bit childish. So no matter how hard she tries, Blossom, the perpetual Girl Scout is indeed a little girl."

1. What do you think of school?

Blossom: I think school is a wonderful place for a child to receive their education so they succeed in life.

2. What do you think of evil?

Blossom: That’s a good question. I think evil is bad because it does not do any good.

3. What do you want?

Blossom: What I want is world peace and a new dress.

4. What do you hate?

Blossom: I hate that there is no world peace and that my dress is hot pink.

5. What do you love?

Blossom: I love my sisters, I love Professor Utonium and I love being a super hero.

6. What would you do with a million dollars?

Blossom: I would go to the government and buy world peace, and then a new dress.

7. Do you know the alphabet?

Blossom: Yes I know the alphabet forwards and backwards.

8. Do you watch TV?

Blossom: Yes I sometimes watch tv but not all the time. I watch smart shows with the Professor and cartoons when I want to laugh.

9. When not saving the world, what do you do?

Blossom: Well, in truth I never stop saving the world because I recycle.

10. What would you do if you didn't have superpowers?

Blossom: If I did not have superpowers I would still have super powers because everything on earth has a super power in its own special way.

---

Source: Cartoon Network (press release from 1998)

[midnightarcheress]

Simon travels with you.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: mentions of stalking/threats 3 | gold rush masterlist.

the flight is strange. he was used to flying on an excruciatingly loud helicopter, with adrenaline overflowing on his bloodstream as he prepared to jump in the field, or in a simple commercial plane back to Manchester after a long deployment, dwarfing on cramped corridors and elbowing people sitting beside him. a private jet was far too removed from his reality.

but not from yours. from his seat on the back of the plane, he would glance at you from time to time, crossed thighs on the soft cushioned seats like you were simply lounging at your own sofa, not cruising miles up in the air, with eyes attentively going over the plans for the next few days with Daniel. 

he doesn’t understand half of it, but you’re some sort of spokesperson? ambassador? of cosmetic’s brand, whatever that’s supposed to mean. everything he hears just passes straight through his brain. he just cares about what he’ll have to do – follow you around like a guard dog who’s not allowed to bark.

“last time you promised me a day off, Dan. what’s the point of all this travelling if i can’t even explore the city i’m in?” a huff escapes your lips, utterly annoyed by the limitations of your schedule. a life too micromanaged to bear any autonomy.

“i told you there’s no time for a day off, you have back to back appointments–” the man stops, staring at the puppy-eyed gaze you give him, the magical pout that would get anyone on their knees, “fine. i guess i can arrange a free afternoon before we leave.” Simon can’t help the hint of a smirk forming under his mask after you got what you wanted, internally commending your ability to bend any resolve without lifting a single finger.

after landing, you head directly to the hotel to get ready for the big event. Simon’s stuck with you in a room that’s almost as big as his entire flat, bored out of his mind watching frantic people dolling you up – activity he sees no purpose in, since you couldn't get any prettier in his eyes. his eardrums are already hurting from the constant noise in the place, but still functioning enough to pick up the double knock on the door. 

you also hear it, shifting on your chair and glancing around the room as if you were looking for someone, until your eyes land on him. “Ghost?” you say, head tilting in the door direction, “could you get that, please?” he sighs and nods, pushing himself away from the wall to answer it.

the hotel employee hands him a bouquet of white lilies, courtesy of the brand, the man says. as soon as the lock clicks again, Simon notices your beaming smile at the arrangement in his possession, eyes shining like a child in the toy section. he passes you the bouquet, not missing how your smile fades into a frown the second you skim through the small card hidden between the flowers, raising an alarm flag in his brain. “something wrong?” 

“what?” your eyes dart between his and the paper in your hands, quickly tucking it in your robe pocket, “oh, no, it’s nothing.” your lips curve, barely so, tentatively brushing off the topic as you finish getting ready. his brows furrowed, not fully accepting your dismissal and sensing that you’re covering something, but he doesn’t want to press you in front of everyone. he just hopes that you’ll trust him enough to come to him if it’s another threat. 

he’d seen the content of a few of the letters you received, as a part of his briefing, just to understand what he was dealing with. some of them were pathetic expressions of emotion, serving you undying devotion and promises of eternal love, but some were filled with a predatory fury, a mixture of jealousy and hunger, visceral descriptions of how they wanted to rip you apart. all with the same signature. you never talked about the situation, never addressed to him the necessity of having a bodyguard. he could only imagine the turmoil of fear inside your chest.

a couple hours later, much to his relief, the event ended, allowing him to take you back to the hotel without having to hear any more french buzzing for the rest of the evening. 

“Ghost?” he stops on his way out, hand hovering on the doorknob and face turned to you. every time you call him, he feels a piece of his defence wall crumbling, determination to keep his distance slowly disappearing due the sweet sound that travels through the air. “can you, uhm, help me?” you look over your shoulder to the back of your dress, the zipper being impossible to reach without dislocating a joint. 

his brain momentarily freezes, scrambling to form a quick and coherent yeah, sure, or to simply shake his head in agreement. he takes a step closer, letting you turn around and move your hair before daring to touch you.

“funny how after the party there’s no one to help you clean up, right?” your eyes roam around the empty room and you chuckle, but the saddened tone of your laugh is easily recognizable, “so different from earlier.” his large digits find the invisible zipper in the fabric, slowly tugging it down as his other hand stays on your lower back for support. 

his heart is thumping loudly, the gradual exposure of your back being sufficient to divert his blood flow and make him feel something that he definitely shouldn’t. despite the profound temptation to trace your naked spine with his fingers and to lean closer to your soft neck, he steps back, clearing his throat and going back to the exit, “so, uhm, goodnight then."

you turn slightly, holding the gown by your chest and gently grinning in gratitude, “goodnight, Ghost.”

lol took me so long to write this, i'm still scrambling with the ideas/scene sequences for the story (but now it has a name)