#in fact if you can’t be friends with women on the account you only see them as dating partners you’ve isolated roughly half of

[mr-double-downer]

oh boy do I have some controversial opinions on my own gender I hope I can post them without the literal proverbial examples coming out of the woodwork like flies to shit to prove me right

[strawberryteabunny]

I do really agree with Austen about a better marriage with someone of good, steadfast character who can respect and treat you well, rather than someone you might have a passionate connection with but don’t actually know how they’ll treat you years or decades down the line. Like okay, I do find Mr. Collins a horrific bore, but we don’t ever get the sense from him that he’d be cruel to his wife- which in that time period when divorce was so inaccessible and women’s rights so few is incredibly important. Wickham? Idk. We know he lies, gambles, and has a habit of seducing young girls- I don’t have much hope for how he’ll treat Lydia as she gets older or if their finances take a hit.

I will say though that it could have been possible for the Bennet girls to become governesses- 1813 is a little early but just a decade or so later governesses would start to become increasingly popular and not much care was taken about their education, just their class. I can’t say how the Bennets specifically would fare because they also might not have been of good enough character (Lydia’s scandal would have hurt them a lot in that case too) but it was starting to become more of an option.

In the Victorian era as the idea took shape that a lady cannot do any kind of work, governessing became the only possible occupation for high-class women that lost their fathers (or husbands) and had no other way to support themselves. From everything I’ve read though it was still a very miserable way to live, because you weren’t one of the servants in the house but you also weren’t part of the family- so you were just alone, and with almost no marriage prospects, because a gentleman had better options and a working-class man would want a wife that was actually useful to him, not someone who was just preparing for marriage to a gentleman. (Successive finishing schools and governesses just churning out more Mrs.Bennet-types…)

The state of womens’ education was abysmal at this time, since again the upper class (and now, upper middle and middle class as they imitated the rich and fashionable) wanted their women to be purely decorative, so women would learn to speak a bit of some foreign languages, an instrument, a bit of painting and fancy needlework- but any practical skills that could potentially be put to use to work were forbidden. These same women, when they became governesses, were equally useless at teaching other girls- because you can’t educate your daughters to be good teachers at things like history, mathematics, geography, cooking, sewing, etc. or you’re implying you expect them to have to become governesses!* It’s an endless cycle of women receiving and perpetuating terrible educations. And once a governess gets too old, she has no marriage prospects and few skills, and they often died in poverty at that point. (In earlier centuries, a governess was only for the very wealthy, so they were paid well, well-educated, and could count on receiving support even after ‘retirement’ or being kept on for multiple generations, and sometimes even became friends with their pupils or were considered family, but that’s not how an upper-middle class Victorian family saw their household staff)

*the exception was usually daughters of clergy, who were in a weird limbo of being considered well-bred but also grew up expecting to work, so they usually received a bit better education as children themselves. But most women suddenly finding themselves needing to work as governesses had generally gone to finishing schools instead, which taught “ladylike” skills on the assumption that you would never need to work or support yourself financially. (Even with the reality that there weren’t nearly enough eligible bachelors wealthy enough to support all these girls and their social-ladder-climbing ambitions… yikes.)

If none of them married, how desperate would the Bennett girls actually have been?

Well the only dowry they have is £50 apiece from their mother’s small inheritance, per year; so that’s a total of £250 generated by Mrs. Bennet’s inherited investments per annum.

The Dashwoods (four women) are living on £500 a year when they are forced to live in Barton Cottage (with good-will making the rent presumably ridiculously low thanks to Sir John Middleton’s good nature, to say nothing of all the dinners and outings he invites the ladies to, which will help them economize on housekeeping costs for heavier meals.)

So there would be six Bennet women left to live on half as much as the Dashwoods are barely scraping by on. £250 is roughly considered enough to keep ONE gentleman at a barely-genteel level of leisure (presuming he does not keep a horse or estate or have any major expenses beyond securing his own lodgings/clothes/meals at a level becoming of a gentleman.)

None of the Bennet girls have been educated well enough for them to be governesses to support themselves, so…yes, their situation would heavily rely on mega-charity from others to just help them survive, much less maintain them in the lifestyle they’ve been accustomed to. The Dashwood women have NO social life beyond the outings provided by Sir John and the offer of Mrs. Jennings to host the older girls in London–otherwise they’d be stuck in their cottage, meeting absolutely no eligible men, creating a cycle of being poor and unmarried and too poor to meet anyone with money they could marry.

If the Bennet girls don’t at least have ONE of them marry well enough to help the rest before their father dies, they are really, truly, deeply fucked.

They may joke about beautiful Jane being the saviour of the family, but…it’s true. Mr. Bennet failed his daughters several times over in A) presuming he’d have a son, B) not saving money independently from his income to support his family after his death when it became clear he wasn’t going to have a son, C) not educating them well enough to enable them to support themselves in even in the disagreeable way of being a governess, D) not making any effort to escort his daughters to London or even local assemblies to help their matrimonial chances because he just doesn’t feel like it, E) throwing up his hands and shrugging when faced with the crises of Mr. Collins and Wickham.

Much as we are relieved on a romantic level that Mr. Bennet’s support of Elizabeth saves her from parental pressure to accept Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet is NOT A DICK for pushing for the match, because on a material level it very much means they get to KEEP THEIR HOUSE and gain a connection to the powerful patron Lady Catherine de Bourgh, which could be VERY advantageous for the other unmarried girls.

And the scandal of Wickham very nearly scuppers the chances of ANY of the other girls, and Wickham is a further DRAIN on the family finances, not a man who is going to substantially be able to support them. It is SUCH a disaster, and of course there’s not much Mr. Bennet can do until they are found, but he’s away in London and doing…what, exactly? Mr. Gardiner takes over and manages everything and Mr. Bennet seems happy to just let him.

Mr. Bennet does the ABSOLUTE LEAST, and actively damages his children’s futures by his inaction AND by his one action to support Lizzie’s individual needs being prioritized over the collective gain, which…I mean, Lizzie is going to be JUST as homeless and destitute as her sisters when he dies, so much good being Dad’s Favourite is going to do her. :/

[xomakara]

Roomies With Benefits

(re-posting from my old account seulrinnie-rinrin/xomakara-secondary)

SUMMARY | You have no choice but to be roommates with San when there is a glitch in the leasing office’s system. The more time that you live together, the more that you both can’t help but want each other. PAIRING | San x Reader GENRE | non-idol!San, College AU, Roommate trope, fake dating trope, smut with some plot, protected sex (wrap it up everyone!), vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI LENGTH | 7,380 words TAGLIST | -- NETWORKS | AUTHOR’S NOTE | I would not mind living with San (or any of the other members) if there was a glitch in the system. LOL. Hope you all enjoy, reblog, like, comment~ Love you all ❤️

"There has to be misunderstanding," You looked at the management team of your apartment complex. "There's no way that you could lease the unit to two people who signed two different leases at different times. Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"My system shows that both you and Mr Choi are on the lease..." The manager searched for something on his tablet. "I will double check with my secretary to confirm if everything is correct. We should have an answer by tomorrow afternoon. Until then, can you and Mr Choi share the unit?"

You shook your head. There was no way that you'd share the apartment with Choi San, the most popular guy on campus and your arch rival since freshman year. Okay, sure he was stupidly, insanely hot with a sexy brain to boot but he wasn't someone you would ever let into your personal space, much less share the same living space.

There was also the small fact that he was one of the most eligible bachelors at school and always getting girls all over him. He had dated many of them before they got tired of playing second fiddle to his social life or wanted to get closer to his family money. You had seen him flirting with women during lunch, talking to his other stupidly, insanely hot friends about how he couldn't wait to bang yet another girl later that night. Every time he turned around, some new girl was ogling at him and that infuriated you.

Not that you hadn't had your fair share of guys sliding into your DMs just because they were interested in you, trying to impress you with expensive gifts or showing up on campus with roses, candy and other 'cute' things just to see you smile and notice them. Sure you were the Queen Bee on campus, even with barely any effort on your part, but that didn't mean you needed everyone else telling you how pretty and desirable you were, did it?

No. You were perfectly fine being single, thank you very much.

But it seemed like this misunderstanding would force you to spend more time together. How terrible.

"Let's just share the apartment for one night." San spoke up, the manager giving him a small nod. "Tomorrow, we expect answers."

You walked out of the management office, a scowl on your face as you waited for the elevator. San was by your side, tapping his foot impatiently while keeping an eye on your reactions. You were tired and just didn't feel like arguing with him right now.

"Let's just get to the apartment and figure something out." San muttered next to you. "It's probably not a big deal."

You sighed. "If only it were that simple." You tried to find the quickest route to the apartment unit so you could get away from him.

The last thing you needed right now was to come across San and a lot of sexual tension going through the roof, only making you more irritable than you already were. You hated how badly you wanted him, hated yourself for reacting the way you did whenever he was near you. It was disgusting, embarrassing and it made you want to punch the wall.

Shit. This was bad. Really bad.

San noticed the look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said as you approached the front door and opened it. You looked at the boxes that littered the living room area, both yours and his mingled together in a weird mixture of feminine and masculine decor.

He sighed and followed you inside. "Are you sure you're okay? Everything seems fine to me. What's the problem?"

"We need to share this apartment tonight." You stated matter-of-factly. "That means I'll be sleeping here with you. By tomorrow, the whole campus is going to talk about how the Queen Bee and Alpha Male hooked up. No way can that happen. My reputation is on the line."

"And what do you care about your reputation?" He asked, walking towards you. You backed up against the door, causing him to stop.

"You know I care about my image." You snapped back. "Besides, I've worked too hard to maintain my social status for me to lose it because of a mistake."

His eyes narrowed as he took in your features. His nostrils flared slightly, his gaze darkening with every passing second. You knew what he was doing and you wished you could say something, stop him from approaching you and taking you against the door like a predator chasing down its prey.

Your heartbeat accelerated and your body started to react in ways you never expected, long buried desires resurfacing once again, feelings stirring deep within your heart.

If he touched you right now, you wouldn't fight him. You'd let him take you and fuck you into oblivion until neither of you could walk. All you cared about was his lips on your neck, his hands running along your hips and thighs, your fingers entwined with his. You'd be content to go slow and explore your bodies for hours, waiting for the moment when he finally plunged into you, thrusting hard and fast until you couldn't take anymore.

Instead, you were stuck with San, who was staring at you with his hot brown eyes, and even though he didn't touch you, the longing in his stare burned hotter than the fire raging behind his irises. You were powerless to do anything but stand there, watching him silently and hoping that he would finally make his move.

But he didn't. He turned away and gestured to the door of the bedroom. "Take the room. I'll sleep on the couch tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow we can find out why there was a mix-up and we won't have to worry about this shit anymore."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" You asked hesitantly. He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he stared at you intently.

"Yeah, take it." San nodded. "Despite all the things you hear about me on campus, I don't go around sleeping with women without their consent. Even you, Queen Bee. I respect that. Just take the room."

"Thank you." You breathed softly, thankful for his generosity and maturity. With a slight sigh, you walked towards the bedroom and closed the door behind you. You locked it and crawled onto the bed, pulling the blanket over your body and laying there for a few seconds before turning off the lights.

You lay on the bed for a few minutes, wondering what had gotten into San. Why did he suddenly act so mature? And was it really possible that you weren't imagining things earlier? Did he actually desire you as well?

It felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders. Yes, maybe it was a mix-up and the leasing office really did mess up your contracts. Maybe, just maybe, everything would work out just fine.

With those thoughts filling your mind, you fell asleep quickly.

You woke up slowly, disoriented from the light pouring into the room. Your heart raced as your eyes adjusted to the sunlight. Slowly opening your eyes, you blinked several times, your eyes adjusting to the unfamiliar ceiling above you.

Getting up and unlocking the door to the bedroom to make your way to the kitchen, you looked at San's figure as he snoozed away on the couch. The covers were pulled up to his chin and his shirt was partially undone, exposing a sliver of chestnut skin.

For a moment, you just stood there and watched him sleep, the excitement from yesterday still lingering on your skin.

You started up the coffee machine, brewed a fresh pot and made your way to one of the boxes in the living one that had your clothes packed in. Careful to not wake San up, you closed the bathroom door behind you and locked it so that you could shower in peace.

After taking a quick shower, you dried yourself off and put on your clothes. You made your way back to the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of coffee, adding a spoonful of sugar to sweeten it a little. As you sipped on the delicious black liquid, you leaned against the counter and browsed on your phone. A minute passed before you heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor, followed by a yawn.

"Good morning." San said with a soft smile as you poured him a cup of coffee and slid it towards him.

"Morning." You replied. "After you get ready for the day, let's go down to the leasing office and see what they say."

"Sure." He said as he gulped down half his coffee, eyes trained on your form as you took another sip. You knew exactly what was going through his head and you didn't think he was going to be able to hide it from you anytime soon. The expression on his face was clear evidence that he liked what he saw.

About half an hour later, you and San both made your way to the leasing office. Walking past the crowds of students that congregated outside the main building, you arrived at the office and entered the queue. After a short wait, you finally reached the front desk and signed your name on the sign-in sheet.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience." The manager apologized again as he looked at you and San. "Unfortunately, there was a glitch in the system and I'm afraid that our records show that we mistakenly assigned you the same unit."

"There's no other units that are available? Not even in a different location?" San inquired, a frown etched across his brow.

"There's nothing left." The manager shook his head. "All the other units have already been filled by other students that are no longer living in the dorms, sorority or frat houses."

"When is the next available unit?" You asked, putting on your best poker face. "How long will it take for us to get one?"

The manager paused for a moment, seemingly torn between wanting to tell you that there wasn't another unit available and being worried about offending you by saying so. "I'm so very sorry but there won't be any available units until the next school year. You may have to find someplace else to live if you cannot accept that."

"That won't be necessary." San interrupted. "I'm sure Miss Y/N and I will figure something out."

"That's good." The manager gave you a sympathetic smile before looking back at San. "Well, if you need anything at all, please let me know. If you need help finding a new place, I'm happy to assist."

San nodded and gave the man a polite smile before turning towards you. "We should go. Let's head back to the apartment."

You followed him back to the elevator, ignoring all the curious glances that the both of you attracted. Some people didn't know why you two were sharing an apartment, others were just trying to catch a glimpse of San and you, others were already forming their opinions and thoughts of the two hottest people on campus and if they were really dating. Either way, everyone wanted to know the answers to these questions.

By the time you got to the apartment unit, the sun had almost set and nightfall was upon you. Both of you dumped your bags inside the apartment and decided to sit down on the couch.

"So..." San said, breaking the silence. "I guess we're going to spend our last year of university in the same unit..."

You nodded. "Yep."

"Let's try to work something out. Why don't you continue to stay in the bedroom and I'll stay on the couch for the time being?"

"I can't let you sleep on the couch forever, San." You protested.

"Then just let me stay in the bedroom until we find another solution." He suggested. "Unless you don't want to share the bed with me either?"

"I-I'm fine with sharing." You stammered out, avoiding eye contact with him. There was a nervous twitch dancing on the end of your lips as you felt your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" San asked, bringing your attention back to him. His eyes flickered from side to side, peeking at your lips before landing on your eyes.

"Oh...nothing." You mumbled, averting your gaze. "I can already hear the rumours..."

"Then why don't we just date?" San suggested. "At least to the public. No one will bat an eye if we said that we moved in together because after being a couple for a few months. But in private, we'll just be two roommates. Nothing more."

"Maybe...maybe we should do that." You murmured softly. Your cheeks grew redder and your voice was barely audible. You could feel your heart pounding loudly in your chest as your pulse raced in anticipation of what San would say next.

"I promise I won't touch you unless you ask me to." San said softly. "And I won't demand anything sexual from you."

You swallowed heavily, biting your lip as you met San's intense gaze. "You...you're sure?"

"Of course I am." He said firmly. "I don't want to pressure you into doing anything that you aren't comfortable with. So I'll leave it up to you."

Tilting your head to the side, you tried to decide how to respond. If this was truly the only option you had, then perhaps dating San would work out. “Okay, fine.” You sighed, giving in. “We’ll try it. But if I ever start feeling uncomfortable or I don’t want to date you anymore, you better not hold it against me.”

"Deal, now why don't we start unpacking?" San suggested, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. "This is going to be our home for the next year. Let's make it a nice home, okay?"

He was right. This would be your home for the next year and you should make the most of it. Putting aside your worries for the moment, you grabbed your bag and followed San into the bedroom. Once you had unpacked your stuff, you sat down on the edge of the bed while San sorted out the rest of his belongings. You both then moved to the living room and settled on opposite sides of the couch.

"I can already see the look on your friends' faces when we tell them that we're 'dating'. They probably think that we're crazy and that we're playing games. They'll see right through us." You remarked.

"Then should we practice on making it look real?" San asked. "Or is that asking too much?"

“I don’t think I have it in me.” You shrugged. “But if it makes you feel better…”

With a smile plastered across his face, San leaned forward and kissed you on the lips. It wasn’t overly romantic and it was brief, but it showed enough of his intentions to get you to agree to his plan. You hadn’t expected that kissing him would make you feel tingly inside, but your stomach fluttered as he pressed his lips to yours. You could taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue and you couldn’t help but pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Before you knew it, you found yourself pinned to the sofa by San, unable to move or resist his grip.

"Y/N..." San whispered hoarsely. "Do you want to stop this or...?"

"I...don't know..." You confessed, not wanting to lie. "We can keep kissing...but nothing else tonight."

He looked into your eyes, a brief smile gracing his beautiful lips. "Okay, I could deal with only kissing." He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the idea. "Though...if you change your mind, just give me a sign and I'll stop immediately."

Relieved, you smiled softly at San before nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'll let you know."

"Okay, then I'm going to kiss you some more." San purred, leaning in once again. "If you tell me to stop, I will."

His lips descended slowly over yours, igniting your body with passion. He tasted like coffee and mint toothpaste and he smelled amazing. His hands explored your waistline, slipping under the material of your shirt. All you wanted was to feel San’s skin against yours. To feel every inch of his muscular frame pressed against you. To inhale the scent of his cologne and bask in the warmth radiating off his body. With those thoughts in mind, you leaned forward and ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him tighter against you.

Your kisses became deeper, your breathing erratic as you moaned louder than you intended. Your hips arched upwards, pressing against San's crotch. A small groan escaped his throat as you began kissing him harder, your breath hot and ragged against his ear.

You weren't aware that your fingernails dug into his scalp as you felt him push against you, trying to make you moan louder. "Y/N..." San moaned as you bit down on his earlobe, sending chills down your spine. "We should stop...while we can."

You lifted your head, panting heavily as you gazed at San. "Yeah, yeah we should stop." You agreed, trying to steady your heartbeat.

Damn, living with San was going to be interesting.

That night you laid in bed under the covers as you turned your head to watch San snoozed next to you on top of the covers. You stared at his sleeping form for several minutes before realizing that you were staring at him. You smiled softly as you layed back down, curling up beside him. After a few moments, San opened his eyes and gazed at you.

"Are you awake?" He asked quietly.

"Mmhmm, yes I am." You responded softly. "Hard to sleep with someone lying next to you isn't it?"

San rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. "It certainly can be." He murmured. "But I've been doing it for so long that I just kind of accepted it."

"I guess I haven't gotten used to having someone next to me yet." You commented with a small chuckle.

"The Queen Bee is not used to having someone next to her?" San teased. "How strange."

Shaking your head, you smiled. "No, not at all. I know I get plenty of male attention being the Queen Bee on campus but I just turn everyone down. I guess it's because I prefer spending my time alone. Besides, the guys who are attracted to me are creeps anyway."

"I'm attracted to you." San chuckled. "Does that make me a creep?"

"There's no way you're attracted to me, Choi San." You replied, shaking your head again. "I'm not exactly your type."

"Who says you're not my type?" He countered. "All the other girls that try to get into my pants? You don't think I notice you?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes at San's persistence. He was determined to prove his point, despite the fact that you still disagreed with him. "Look, I'm flattered that you think I'm attractive but-"

"No, Y/N." San interrupted. "Just hear me out. You're beautiful, smart and funny. Plus, you don't put up with any crap from anyone. Do you know how rare that is?"

For the first time since San spoke, you stopped to think about his words. "Am I really that special?" You asked.

"You're pretty damn special, actually." San admitted. "I don't know why you don't think you're attractive if half the student body and myself fall at your feet."

Laughing lightly, you shook your head. "I think I'd rather spend my time alone than get wrapped up in relationships." You decided. "Besides, I'm not interested in hook ups."

"You didn't say that when we kissed earlier." San pointed out.

"I-it was different!" You protested. "A kiss doesn't mean I want to have sex with you!"

San smirked. "Why did you kiss me then? Just to test the waters?"

Blushing bright red, you ducked your head low as San reached out and gently stroked your cheek. "Not necessarily..." You muttered, glancing away.

"Don't be embarrassed by what happened earlier." San said, placing a finger underneath your chin and lifting your head. "I liked kissing you and I know you like kissing me too. If you don't want to do anything else tonight, then that's fine with me. But you need to at least admit that there's something between us."

Your heart pounded loudly in your ears as you fought back the desire to lean forward and kiss him. "So what do you suggest we do instead?" You asked.

"Well..." San trailed off. "There is one thing I've always wanted to do with you."

"Oh?" You asked.

"Mmhm." San nodded. "I was hoping that maybe you'd let me kiss you again."

A grin tugged at the corner of your mouth as you watched San's face light up. "I'm not opposed to another kiss." You admitted. "But..."

"But?" San prompted.

"I was thinking..." You trailed off, trying to find the right words. "Maybe we could just go slow and enjoy each other's company."

San regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, I can do that." He said. "Tonight's the first night we live together so it'll be the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other. We can take things easy and see where they lead us."

You placed a hand on San's cheek, tracing his soft features with your thumb. "I like the sound of that." You told him. "Now you can kiss me."

For the remainder of the night, you were lost in his kisses.

It had been several weeks since you and San started living together as roommates. In the comfort of your own home, the both of you led your private lives away from the prying eyes of others. Nowadays, the both of you would talk for hours on end about your day or complain about the latest episode of your favourite drama. You never thought that being able to converse with someone was such a relief, especially after a stressful week at work or class.

When the both of you were out in public together, you both played your parts as a couple convincingly. You'd hold hands with San, kiss him, blush when his hand slid lower than where it needed to be and even grab onto his arm whenever the conversation turned serious. Even San's friends were convinced that the both of you were dating and no one batted an eye when you came out of the bathroom in the middle of the party to hug San, accidentally brushing your breast against his arm or when he would wrap an arm around your waist to pull you close to him and kiss your forehead.

Friends would ask about your sex life but you clearly didn't have one. At least not yet. You were content spending the night in bed telling each other stories or just cuddling while watching television. Exchanging kisses every now and then but making sure to limit yourselves to making out and no further. It wasn't that you didn't want to have sex with San, it was just that you weren't ready for a relationship at this point in your life. Not to mention that you didn't want to rush into anything. If you took your time getting to know San better, it would make everything less awkward when the time finally came.

And then San's friend Wooyoung wanted to throw a small get-together at the apartment.

"Why does everyone want to throw a party here?" You complained as you walked into the kitchen. "Can't anyone take care of their own parties?"

"Scared that everyone will find out?" San teased you.

"How will they find out when our apartment has both of our stuff scattered everywhere?" You mumbled. "Our apartment literally looks like a couple. If anyone steps into the bedroom, I will murder someone."

San chuckled as he stood beside you, handing you a cup of tea. "I know you'd rather be curled up on the couch with a book but let's try to keep appearances up tonight. Okay?"

You sighed, taking the offered cup. "Fine."

Wooyoung had invited all of his friends and a few girls from the campus. Although you didn't want to mingle with the others, you did it for San's sake. But as the night progressed, you became increasingly bored. Most of the guys in attendance were there to ogle over the attractive women but San stuck close to you the entire time. The girls, on the other hand, kept flirting and vying for San's attention but he refused them all politely.

He only had eyes for you.

Sighing, you excused yourself from the room to use the restroom. After finishing your business, you left the restroon and tried looking for a seat but noticed that they were all taken. Everyone was drinking, eating, and conversing with each other. When San saw you standing there, he gestured you over to him, only to pull you into his lap.

"San!" You whispered, his hands resting on your hips.

"Shh...it's time to play house." San murmured huskily into your ear. "Need to keep up the charade."

You blushed deeply, glancing around at the amused stares of his friends. For the sake of San, you accepted his invitation to stay seated on his lap. At first, it seemed innocent enough, but soon you could feel San running a hand up and down your back, his soft fingers caressing your bare thigh. The tips of his fingers slowly inched higher until they brushed against the bottom of your skirt.

"San..." You whispered again, surprised by his sudden boldness.

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" He breathed into your ear. "Please? I really want to kiss you right now."

Your breath hitched in your throat, knowing full well what he meant. Not that you were opposed to kissing San, you enjoyed the feel of his lips pressed against yours whenever you got the chance. But he'd never made a move on you like this before in public. Sure, you'd gotten hugs and a quick peck on the cheek from him for appearances sake but none of those kisses made your heart race like this.

"What do you think?" San whispered, pulling back from your ear long enough to meet your gaze.

"In front of everyone?" You questioned quietly.

"Baby, we need to give them a show so they can get up and leave the apartment." He reasoned. "Besides, I've been thinking about kissing you this whole day. And you looked so sexy today, dressed in that short skirt and that tight, sexy top. So yes, in front of everyone is exactly where I want to be kissing you."

With a soft sigh, you reluctantly nodded. "Alright, let's give them something to watch."

Slowly, San pulled you closer, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck, gently holding your head still. Then, with his mouth just inches away from yours, San whispered, "Kiss me, Y/N."

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, offering your lips to San without hesitation. In return, San captured your lips in a gentle kiss that melted your insides and made you gasp. Your mouths remained connected, devouring each other with lustful desire. There was no hesitation, no inhibitions; it was purely a display of raw lust and intense passion.

The way he held you, tenderly caressing your back, sending goosebumps all over your body and the pressure of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine. All you wanted to do was to run your fingers through his messy, black hair and slip your arms around his neck, begging him to touch you wherever he pleased.

As if reading your mind, San broke the kiss, grinning as he rested his forehead against yours. "Well, are you satisfied?"

Hearing San speak like that caused your cheeks to burn red. "You could say that." You replied, a little breathless.

"Good." San grinned, lightly running his fingers down your side.

You heard a cough and you both looked up to see Wooyoung staring at the two of you with a smug grin on his face. "Sooooo, is this the cue for us to end the party and go home so that ya'll can fuck each other senseless? Because that's what I'm hearing."

San chuckled lightly as he rose to his feet, pulling you along with him. "Yep, I guess that is what we're doing. Time to shut the party down. Y/N is feeling tired."

"Tired, my ass." Wooyoung sneered, eyeing the two of you with amusement. "You guys are just horny. Look how the two of you can't keep your hands off of each other."

"Once you get a taste of pussy, you can't get enough of it." San commented and you couldn't help but bury your head in his shoulder out of sheer embarrassment. You looked up at San and he grinned down at you.

"Alright, folks. Party is over." You announced. "Go home so that I can have my boyfriend all to myself. Bye!"

You smiled brightly as you waved goodbye to everyone. Soon, the apartment was empty except for the two of you and it felt nice to finally be alone with San again. As soon as you sat on the couch, San's hands grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you closer to him.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, baby." San whispered in your ear, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. "All of these people aren't here to judge you. We can enjoy ourselves in our own little world."

He stroked your leg softly, trailing his fingers down the edge of your skirt.

"It feels good to not have to act like we have a charade going on." You murmured, smiling up at San.

"Why don't we make this charade real then?" San gave you a mischievous smile, unbuttoning your tight shirt and letting it fall to the floor. "Why don't we live in reality instead of this fantasy that we're putting on for everyone else?"

"San...what are you-"

But before you could finish your sentence, San reached up and cupped your face with his hands, giving you a deep, passionate kiss that left you breathless. Once he released your lips, you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Baby, I don't want to just kiss anymore. It's so hard for me to control myself around you. I want to throw you over the couch, tear your clothes off and fuck you until neither of us can move anymore."

"I know you want it too, Y/N. It shows in the way you look at me sometimes." San admitted, leaning down to give you another gentle kiss. "When you kiss me sometimes. When you wear these sexy clothes and don't think I'm not paying attention to you. I pay attention, I pay so much attention that I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you're screaming my name. I want you, baby. More than I ever thought possible. I want to lose myself in you. Take you any which way I please. Make you scream my name so loud that everyone within earshot knows who you belong to."

Fuck, you wanted this man. So bad that you ached in places that you never knew existed. Your body hummed with pleasure as you moaned against San's lips. "And why hold it in?" You whimpered, raising your hand to trace the outline of San's jawline.

"Because you're a queen that deserves to be treated like one." San growled, slowly slipping his tongue into your open mouth. "And if my queen wanted to wait and take things slow, then I would respect her wishes. I would wait until she wants me inside of her, filling her with the sweet warmth of my love."

You gasped as his warm tongue slid over yours. His kiss was different from the ones you shared in the past. Now, it wasn't as if you two were strangers; there was an unspoken connection between you two that grew deeper with every passing second. "And now?"

"I want you, Y/N. I want you more than anything in this world." San rasped. "Tonight, I want you in ways that I haven't even imagined before. You've made me realize that there are a lot of things I've never experienced in life, and now that I have you, I plan on experiencing everything."

Your heart swelled in your chest as you gazed at San with longing. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against San's once again, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace forever.

This. Was. It.

"I want you too." You mumbled against his lips. "Every part of you, San."

A single hand ran through your hair, tugging gently while the other caressed your cheekbone. Your hands grasped the sides of his shirt, gently pulling it upward until it fell to the floor with a thud.

"Oh God, baby." San moaned as you kissed your way down his neck, leaving a trail of fire-like kisses along his collar bone. When you finally stopped teasing him, you placed your palms against his muscular stomach and ran them downward until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Slowly, you unzipped his pants, revealing his hard length for the very first time.

"San...you're so beautiful." You breathed, caressing his shaft with trembling fingers. "I've always loved the way you smell, but seeing you with your pants undone, sporting a cock so big and thick in front of me has made me a complete mess."

He groaned as you took his dick into your hand, admiring the thickness and length of it. It was perfectly shaped and there was a huge vein pulsating down its center, stretching out towards the tip of his erection. His dick was so perfect, so breathtaking, that you had a difficult time keeping yourself from taking him into your mouth and sucking on it.

Instead, you cupped his balls in one hand and began massaging them with the other, causing him to groan even louder.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" He asked in between pants.

"Is it working?" You teased.

"Yes..." He muttered through clenched teeth. "More, baby. Please, give me more."

His words fueled your already raging desire for him. You squeezed his balls harder, eliciting a low moan from him. You dropped to your knees and started to pull his underwear down until they pooled at his ankles. San threw his head back, moaning louder as your mouth descended upon his cock, tasting the salty essence of pre-cum as you engulfed the entirety of him in your mouth.

"You're such a good girl." San moaned, running his hands through your hair as you pleasured him. "So eager to please. So eager to swallow my cum, just like you swallowed all of me. That's it, Y/N. Suck it like you mean it. Suck it like you fucking love it."

Breathing heavily, you licked the head of his dick, humming as you continued to suck on him. The taste of him was intoxicating, addicting, almost like drinking your favorite cocktail. Each time you slid your mouth further down, taking him deeper into your throat, you felt yourself getting lost in his intoxicating scent.

Soon, you found yourself drooling over the sight of his dick sliding between your lips. And as you looked up at him with hooded eyes, you noticed the way he looked at you. Like you were his entire universe. Like you were meant to be his.

"Please..." San whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Take it all."

You hummed against him, continuing to stroke him in a circular motion with your hand as you kept up with your ministrations with your mouth. You could feel him getting close to climax, so you slowed down, taking his dick out of your mouth. "Cum for me, San. Coat my throat with your cum."

You wanted him to cum so badly. You wanted him to fill your mouth with his semen so that you could drink it down greedily. "Let it flow, San. Let it all flow down my throat."

A few seconds later, you heard San release a strangled gasp. A second after that, he flooded your mouth with his cum, shooting stream after stream down your throat.

It didn't matter if you weren't prepared for it. All that mattered was that San came, and that he did it because of you.

As he pumped out the last of his semen into your mouth, you felt the vibrations in his dick as he became still. A moment later, you took the head of his dick into your mouth, sucking the remaining cum off of him. Then, you raised your head and looked up at San, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Did I do good?" You asked, tilting your head to the side as you watched him carefully.

"You blew me away, baby." San chuckled, reaching out to touch your cheek. "And now I really want to fuck you."

"Mmm, okay." You nodded. "That sounds like a great idea."

With a wicked grin, San wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up off the ground, carrying you over to the bedroom. Once he laid you down on the bed, he climbed atop you, kissing your forehead, his hands pulling off the last of your clothes. After that, his lips followed their path southward, lingering against your skin as his mouth moved down to tease your breasts.

Once his lips latched onto your nipples, he began sucking gently on them, occasionally releasing them to circle around them with his tongue. At the same time, his fingers began circling around your core, his thumb dipping between your folds and pushing into you with soft, tender strokes.

"Ahh..." You cried out as your entire body began to tingle. "S-San!"

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." San murmured against your breast. "Tell me how you want me to fuck you."

Gathering all of your courage, you pulled his face upwards and locked eyes with him. "Do whatever you want with me, San. Do whatever you need to do to get you off. Fuck me however you want. But please...fuck me hard."

At the sound of your begging, San laughed softly and said, "Well, when you put it that way...you make it very difficult to refuse."

Grabbing a condom out of the nightstand drawer, he ripped it open with his teeth, using his other hand to roll it down his throbbing member. Soon enough, he positioned himself between your legs and settled himself on top of you, sinking into your wet heat with one thrust.

It was the best feeling you'd ever experienced. Being completely filled by this man. This man who you desperately wanted to claim as your own.

San grabbed your wrists, pinning them over your head as he started to pump his hips, slowly. "God, you feel amazing." He grunted. "You're so tight around me. So hot. So fucking hot. I can't believe that I'm finally here, buried deep inside of you. Your pussy is tighter than I could have ever dreamed of. How is that even possible?"

"Fuck, San..." You panted, rocking your hips underneath him. "Keep going."

"Okay." San replied, smiling as he pushed into you harder. "You want it harder? Okay, I'll give it to you."

One of San's hands went to your hip, gripping you tightly as he slammed into you. His other hand gripped your hair, bringing your face closer to his as he bit down on your shoulder. "Fuck, baby." He whispered. "Your tits look amazing bouncing in the air."

"Does it feel good, Y/N?" He whispered, pushing into you even harder. "Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Ahhh..." You cried out. "I like this, San. Just keep doing this. Keep doing exactly what you're doing."

His lips left your shoulder and traveled to your ear where he nibbled lightly on your lobe. "I love the way you say my name." He murmured, brushing his nose across your cheek. "It's so sexy. So, so fucking sexy."

He then trailed kisses down your neck, pausing to kiss and suck your collar bone as he continued to plunge into you. Before long, he was running his lips back up to your ear, whispering against it. "Y/N, are you ready for me to take you to heaven and back? Because I am. I am right now. As soon as you let go, I'll take you to paradise and fuck you until we both pass out from exhaustion."

"Oh god, San..." You whimpered, tightening your thighs around him. "Take me there. Take me to paradise. Don't stop fucking me. Never stop fucking me. Don't you dare stop fucking me."

"Never." He agreed, running his hand over your ass as he increased his pace, slamming into you over and over again. "I don't ever plan on stopping."

"Yes, yes, yes!" You screamed, burying your head into the pillow beneath you as San increased his speed yet again. You dug your nails into the mattress as you panted loudly, attempting to regain your breath. "San, oh god, San!"

"Cum for me, baby." He panted against your ear. "Can you cum for me?"

"Yes!" You cried out, arching your back and grabbing hold of the sheets, wrapping your fingers around them. "I'm coming! Oh god, I'm coming!"

A few seconds later, San's entire body stiffened and his dick began pulsating inside of you. For a brief moment, his cock twitched as he held onto you for dear life before the orgasm hit him and washed over him. He fell forward onto your chest, gasping for breath as you clung to him. When he caught his breath, he pulled out of you, sitting upright on the bed next to you and pulled the condom off of his dick. With a small smile, he tossed it onto the floor, then collapsed beside you, spooning you from behind.

After several minutes, you finally recovered from your near death experience and opened your eyes. You smiled softly as you saw San lying naked next to you.

"Hey." He murmured, brushing his fingertips along your arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." You assured him, snuggling into him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" San asked, stroking your arm with his thumb.

"No, you didn't hurt me." You giggled. "Actually, it felt pretty damn amazing."

"I'm glad." San sighed. "And to think that we've been living together all this time and haven't done this. We definitely need to remedy that situation."

You couldn't help but laugh as you pressed a kiss to his lips. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Anytime, anywhere." San grinned. "I don't care. As long as it involves you and me and lots of sex."

"Oh, we can definitely work with that." You giggled. "Speaking of which...I'm kind of curious about something."

"What's that?" San asked, running his hand up and down your thigh.

"Now that this whole thing has happened...are we still playing pretend or...?"

"We're not pretending anymore, Y/N." San interrupted you. "From now on, you're mine and I'm yours."

You swallowed nervously. "Yours?"

"I'm saying that we're together, baby." San explained, pulling you in close. "For real this time. No more games. No more pretending."

You smiled softly, resting your head against San's chest. "That makes me really happy, San."

"Now that that's settled," he murmured against your neck, "how about we get this night started again? Because I know I can't wait any longer to fuck you again."

"San!" You let out a laugh as you squirmed in his arms. "Don't you dare."

"...Too late." San smirked as he slid into you. "I told you that I wouldn't stop until I fucked you again. And I meant every word."

And he certainly wasn't kidding.

[cameronspecial]

Let Me See It, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Rafe never wants Y/N to not be able to do something she wants because of her financial situation.

A/N: This video is the inspiration.

Masterlist

Everyone knows Rafe Cameron is packing in his pants and his bank account. So Y/N isn’t blind to the money her now-boyfriend has. What is surprising to her once she starts dating the Cameron man is his complete willingness to give large amounts of his money to her. Not that she asks, he randomly sends her the money and will refuse to take it back whenever she tries to return it to him. He literally threatened once to stop eating if she didn’t take the money. However, it doesn’t stop her from trying to impede him from giving her the money. Rafe always finds a way though. Y/N is lying in his bed, reading a book for class while he is in the shower. Her phone on his bedside table buzzes every few minutes with a new notification and although she is annoyed by the sound, she is too lazy to turn it on Do Not Disturb. The sound of the continual stream of water coming from the shower head stops and out comes Rafe with only a towel around his waist. The drops of water slowly running down his smooth abs pull her attention from the page. Rafe catches her gaze and smirks to himself. The vibration from her phone causes wrinkles to form between his eyebrows. He raises a finger to point at the technology, “Let me see it, Angel. Please.” 

She doesn’t question his request. She has nothing to hide and she trusts he doesn’t have any malicious intent with wanting to see it. He probably wants to put it on DND or check the time. Y/N hands it over with her eyes returning to her book. With her phone in his hands, Rafe can now see who is blowing up his girlfriend’s phone. It’s her study group, which is comprised mostly of other male students. For some, this fact would bring jealousy to their partner, but Rafe feels secure in his relationship with Y/N and it also helps to know the reason why there aren’t a lot of women in the group is because Y/N’s other female friends are busy with work. What does get his emotions going is the actual messages of the group chat. 

Dinner at Greenleaf later tonight? One of the members of the group chat texts and it is followed by agreement from the other members. Rafe’s eyes find the blue bubble belonging to his girlfriend’s response. Sorry guys, I can’t. I have to start budgeting with tuition for next semester coming up. This breaks Rafe’s heart that his angel can’t go out with her friends because she needs to save money. Not being able to do something he wants to do because of money is something foreign to Rafe and he is determined to make sure Y/N doesn’t have to choose between what she wants to do and what she can afford. He grabs his phone from his desk, opening his bank app immediately. He sends an e-transfer to her and once he knows the text notification has gone through, he places her phone on her stomach. His hand yanks her book out of her hand. He tilts his head toward his dresser, where she keeps some spare clothes. “Get ready, you are going out to eat.” He struggles to not invite himself to the dinner, but he knows that it is healthy for them to have lives outside of their relationship. One of her eyebrows raised, “What are you talking about? I thought Topper wanted to try this recipe he found on TikTok.”

“He does. You aren’t going to be here for it because you are going to Greenleaf with the others.”

“Oh, Rafe, I already told them I couldn’t go. I have to start saving for tuition.”

“Check your phone,” he orders, flicking his chin to the phone on her stomach. She opens her phone to find the notification and shakes her head, “You have to stop sending me money, Rafe. I know how to budget and I can take care of myself.” “I know you can take care of yourself, Angel. But it’s not like you aren’t taking care of yourself if you take it. So put the money in your account and start getting ready before you are late,” he says, finally deciding it is time to get his own clothes on. She sighs and does as he orders. Her eyes widen at the number she sees. This is the largest sum of money he has ever sent her. “Rafe, ten thousand dollars! I’m not going to spend that much on dinner,” she argues, already making it her mission to send back ninety-nine percent of it. He shrugs, “It’s fine. Get whatever you want and you can pay for everyone else’s bill too. I also might have to get you to get me something in case Topper decides to go off-book with the recipe.” “Even if I got all that, it still wouldn’t break a thousand,” she persists. He takes her phone out of her hand and points at her clothes, “Don’t worry about it, Angel. Start getting ready. You don’t have to use all the money for dinner tonight. I’m only making sure you have enough money in case you need stuff for school or home or something.” 

Upon seeing the time, Y/N ceases the small argument and begins to change. She kisses Rafe once she has her clothes on, heading out the door with the exchange of I love yous. Y/N may have agreed to take the money and knows he wants her to spend it on her, yet it won’t stop her from getting the new ring she knows he has been eyeing for a while now. Just because Rafe’s love language is gift-giving, it doesn’t mean she can’t give something right back to him.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[mysteria157]

Chapter One

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

CW: Profanity, Hints of Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Comfort

Word Count: Don't worry about it.

Summary:

“I’m only going to say this one more time, Toji. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

His hands are so bloody, that if you ever knew the source, you would'nt want someone like him to try. He shouldn't be here, taking up so much of your time, asking for more. But he's selfish.

-or; Toji, a notorious hitman, moves to America for more money and a better life for his son. He didnt expect to sleep with you, let alone want more. When his dangerous life catches up to him, he takes on one final lucrative hit, but realizes this target has unseen connections hitting closer to home. Now he must navigate a perilous job while desperately keeping his criminal double life hidden from you.

Authors Notes: Hello! I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. As stated in the masterlist, this fic is a continuation from Maneater, so reading that will definitely help set the tone for this fic. I plan to dig deep with this story and really find my voice writing a different genre.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

| Twitter | Ao3| Masterlist | Prologue | Next Chapter

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.

…women like you drown oceans -Rupi Kaur

*** You ***

Pop!

The sharp sound of gum expanding and then exploding causes you to flinch, your eyeliner pen frozen just above your lid. Through the mirror’s reflection, you shoot a glare at the open closet door, where your cousin rummages through your clothes.

Pop!

She’s in her own little world. If this were any other circumstance, she would have been scolded for her habit of popping gum—a top offender on the list of annoying behaviors ingrained in both of you since childhood. You detest the sound, and if you were closer, you would have punched her in the stomach by now.

You and your cousin typically get along well, but she enjoys testing your limits to coax you out of your shell. The only way to shut her up is by letting her tire herself out during her talkative rampages or swinging at her when you’ve had enough.

Every day with her is a gamble of which will come first.

Your eyeliner is still hovering by your upper lid, suspended in place as you watch another sundress get haphazardly thrown against the closet wall instead of being put back on a hanger where it fucking belongs.

You can’t bother with trying to get violent with her, you’re way too preoccupied with other thoughts. More incessant thoughts like how to play it cool on a date. It’s not that hard, right? Be yourself, get a gauge of the man trying to impress you, entertain a few hours of your day and then back home to relax.

Easy.

If it were anyone else but Toji, then it would be easy.

You had buried yourself in double shifts and extended hours in the lab just to distract yourself from today. Anything to keep you busy and keep your mind off the fact that someone you are sort of interested in…wants to see you. And he reminds you every day when you look down at your phone.

Despite his admission of being a lazy texter, Toji is surprisingly consistent. But the messages take on a blunt form wrapped around a small pearl of care.

Toji: Eat breakfast. What good are you in a hospital if you pass out?

Toji: Stop taking on more shifts, its stupid. Go home and rest.

Toji: You better not be tired this weekend. 

No matter how hard you try to force your face to stay immobile, each text makes your lips twitch into a small smile. He masks his words in harsh deliveries, but the intention is obvious. The satisfying jolt that shoots up your spine when your phone buzzes with a notification from him should be embarrassing. It should be.

But you love it.

It’s absurd, really. Only two weeks have passed since you met him, hardly enough time to form any meaningful connection. Yet, that night at your uncle’s was unexpectedly delightful. Toji was, against your better judgment, charming and attentive, almost to the point of clinginess. And, undeniably, he’s attractive. And a fucking fantastic lay.

So, despite your instinct to ignore a man and the way they flaunt their feathers for your attention, you want Toji to bring that same energy as last time.

You lean your elbows back into the shiny wood of your vanity, focusing your attention on your eye as you lower the eyeliner to your skin.

Pop!

The sound makes you jump, disrupting your focus and smearing the eyeliner across your temple.

“Rene!” you bark, slamming your eyeliner down on the vanity top with a force that makes your hand sting, and you yank a drawer open in search of a makeup wipe. “Stop popping your gum before I come over there and beat the shit out of you.” As you wipe off the smudged makeup, you catch the reflection of your cousin emerging from your closet.

She embodies a beauty that’s almost blinding, matched only by her lively personality. So naturally, heads turn when she enters a room, her chocolate skin seemingly radiant wherever she goes. With her thick, kinky hair always in a protective style and her unshakeable confidence in her intelligence and appearance, Rene caught Shiu’s attention immediately, and he’s been captivated ever since.

She is one of very few in your family who truly gets you, who sees the world with clarity and understands its nuances and how to navigate through it without compromising her ideals. Since childhood, you’ve stuck to each other like glue. She understands you and your guarded demeanor, you understand her and her loud personality. She’s one of your best friends.

But at this moment, as she stands before you in booty shorts and a tank top that accentuates her curves, her twist out cascading from a pineapple updo, and an outfit draped over one arm, she is pissing you off as she pops her gum againwith a cheeky expression.

“I like your makeup.” A sly grin stretches on her face, enhancing her soft features. You ignore her, feeling your defenses rise as she effortlessly peels back your layers. The liquid eyeliner glides against the smooth brown of your skin, forming a subtle cat-eye as you pretend not to notice her approaching you from behind.

She gracefully settles onto your vanity top, ignoring your lipstick casing that teeters over and rolls across the shiny surface. You shoot her another glare before moving to your other eye. “You should put on some mascara too. When you give him head later today, I’m sure he’ll love to see it run down your cheeks and—”

You swing at her not even a second later, landing a solid smack on the side of her thigh. “UM Ow?!”

“Um?? Shut the fuck up,” you growl, sneering at her with a leveling scowl that you hope cuts through her.

It doesn’t.

Rene snorts, shrugging off the vanity and moving to your bed to change her clothes. As she pulls your dark jeans over her thick thighs, you can’t help but wonder if you should dress more…sexy?  Your jean shorts reveal enough skin, and the jersey fits snugly around your torso. You’re no stranger to dressing to the nines and making heads turn just like her, but you value practicality more than appeal. It’s a football game, after all, and you love football. Why bother looking overly sexy when you’ll be screaming and stuffing hotdogs and pretzels in your mouth?

Despite the logic, a hand of insecurity tightens around your throat.

Rene, like the annoyingly clairvoyant bitch she is, tastes the shift in the air and rolls her eyes at you through the mirror’s reflection. “You look fucking amazing. Toji asked you out—frequently, I might add.”

The memories of his persistence flash through your mind in a rush. Heated touches in the backseat of your truck, sweaty skin sliding against each other, and your mouth dripping with moans of satisfaction were constantly interrupted by his repeated question.

“Let me take you out.”

As if he couldn’t get enough. As if he wanted more. As if he wouldn’t leave your uncle’s house that night until you flat-out told him to leave you alone.

You haven’t entertained a man since your cheating ex, so your defenses remain high and guarded, fortified with brick and mortar, armed to fend off anyone who comes too close.

But in such a short time, Toji managed to advance further than others with hard skin resilient to your attacks, and a constant insistence to be by your side. He’s spoken to you in ways that would have landed others in the ER, yet his words were always laced with harsh care to make you confront your own overreactions instead of hiding.

“Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.”

“You’re not mean to men; you just don’t do bullshit.”

“It’s okay to be a little excited about this,” Rene interjects, slicing through the thick current of your anxiety.

And you are, excited and a little nervous, though you don’t respond to her, simply reaching for your clear lip gloss to finish your makeup.

By the time there is a knock on your door thirty minutes later, you and Rene are ready to go. Your curls are piled high on your head, tendrils falling to frame your face and your hairline slicked with curled edges. There’s a subtle shake in your hands wrapped around the handle of your front door, betraying the calm façade you wear.  As you open it, expecting Toji’s familiar face, you’re met with Shiu, a toothpick in his mouth and a gentle smile playing on his lips.

You greet him warmly with a hug, letting him inside. He can only hug you for a second before rushing past you and toward the direction of your room, anxious to see his fiancé. “Don’t fuck on my bed!” you yell after him, loud enough for your cousin to hear.

It’s only a minute later when there’s a knock at the door that makes you jump, shocking you into reality again as you realize that you haven’t moved since inviting Shiu inside. In your stupidity, you look through the peephole and swallow the gasp at Toji’s distorted form.

“I can see your feet. Open the door,” his deep voice cuts, familiar and commanding.

Your fingers curl against the wooden surface of your door, nails scratching lightly along the veneer as you wrestle with the innate temptation to be stubborn. Besides Nanami Kento—another close friend and coworker—Toji is the only man you’ve let talk to you like this. He’s a little bit of an asshole, but beneath his rough exterior lies a tender core that beckons you to peel back the layers like an onion, eager to feel just how soft the bulb is in the center. You’re drawn to him in a way you can’t explain, and it’s a longing that ignites a hunger that you haven’t experienced in a very long time.

With a resigned sigh, you swing the door open to be welcomed by the sight of him, a picture that leaves you momentarily breathless. You swallow the drool that pools instantly in the back of your throat, curl your toes in your sneakers to resist the urge to spring forward and slant your lips against his, and bite the inside of your lip so the twitching on the sides does not turn into a gentle smirk.

“You look good, baby,” his words roll off his tongue effortlessly, his gaze sweeping over you with a knowing intensity. It feels as though he’s studying a heavily guarded masterpiece that he finally has his hands on to steal. He notices every stroke of paint, every blotch that makes you who you are and it’s with a concentration that leaves you dizzy enough to grip the door tighter in your hands.

Though only a week has passed since you last saw him, his presence still grips you with a force that borders on intoxicating. Clad in a black shirt that accentuates his commanding presence, his broad shoulders exude a magnetic strength that summons you, stirring a primal desire to dig your fingernails into him like you did that night in your truck. One of his hands is tucked in a jeaned pocket, the other is behind his back, and jet-black locks brush his cheeks as he chuckles, undoubtedly amused by the dumbfounded stare that you’re still shooting his way. His scar cradles the side of his lips in a seductive curl as he smirks.

God, he’s so—he’s so—

His presence seems to fill the entire room, a tangible force even without crossing the threshold of your home. An urgent ache surges within you, craving the warmth of his embrace, the security of his strength.

“You gonna let me in or just keep your mouth open for the flies?” His voice breaks the reverie in your mind, a well-known blend of annoyance that fills your chest immediately. You’re reminded of how effortlessly irritating he can be, yet there’s a strange allure in his confidence.

At this point, you don’t have a quip loaded up quick enough to shoot back at him. So, you step aside and hold your breath as his large body crosses the threshold of your home.

The last time he was at your door, he barged inside with a barely contained fury and pulled you into an argument that stemmed from your unwillingness to be vulnerable and his lack of expertise in expressing himself. It was a weird song and dance that marked the beginning of something you still don’t fully understand. Now, he’s here with a slightly different demeanor, calm and self-assured as he plants a firm kiss on your cheek as if he’s a hardworking husband returning home just in time for dinner.

You gape at his nonchalance, watching in disbelief as he kicks off his shoes and pulls his hand from behind his back, presenting you a bouquet of flowers in a manner that feels both rushed and sincere. You look down at the flowers, wide-eyed and blinking to make sure the reality you are currently in isn’t actually a simulation.

Daisies.

Not the cheap, wilted blooms you kind of expected from him, but fresh, vibrant flowers. Their white petals gleam softly, each grain of pollen in the yellow center visible in the light of your kitchen. The stems are freshly cut, wrapped in a simple red bow and your chest is fluttering with a severity that unsettles you.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked. And I don’t trust Shiu with an honest answer so…” His words trail off, leaving unspoken sentiments lingering in the air.

 Your lips curl around words that won’t form, and you mentally sort through your book of tricks. It’s a book you’ve spent years filling after countless experiences. Men will do just about anything for pussy. There’s no reason to be shocked at why they do the things they do—they’re all the same.

But even from that first day you met, you have already shuffled through your book when it comes to Toji. Every time you look up whatever trick he tries to pull, you come up with an empty page. There’s never a solution or a pre-written response that you can use. You have no choice but to figure this out on your own and fill in the pages later.

“If you don’t like them, you don’t have to take them,” he cuts into your thoughts, words edged with a trace of embarrassment that he’s trying to cover up with frustration. “Just give them back—” He reaches for the flowers, and you reflexively pull your arms away, much to your own shock at the way your body moves on its own.

“I like them,” you blurt out, your voice not as strong as you want it to be but thankfully steady as the words leave your lips. “They’re very nice, Toji. Thank you.”

He drops his hand, shoves it deep into the pocket of his jeans before clearing his throat and giving you a sharp nod. His eyes take in your face for only a second before they flit away to focus on a random spot in your living room, a hint of blush on his cheeks that makes the fluttering in your chest pick up in speed. It’s a weird feeling that will consume you if you don’t stay in control.

So, you push it down, swallow the pool of saliva in your mouth so it can help the glide, all the way down to the pit of your belly to extinguish the embers that threaten to lick to life. You shuffle past him and into the kitchen to fetch a vase, your mind sorting through the symptoms of various pulmonary diseases to distract yourself from the giddiness of him getting you flowers.

A normal thing. The bare minimum for a man. But it makes you feel great all the same. They aren’t your favorite, not even close, but it’s a gesture that shatters your preconceived notions about Toji that probably shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“What are they?” he asks, face still pink below his eyes that linger on the countertop instead of at you. You untie the bow at the stems and slide the daisies into an antique vase with crystalline ridges, shooting him a questioning raised eyebrow in response. One of his hands gestures wildly to the vase you are filling with water. “Your favorite flowers.”

“Snapdragons.” Toji throws you a quizzical look, his eyebrows pinched together in a clear display of confusion that makes you chuckle. You push the now full vase of flowers to the center of your kitchen countertop, the sight warming your stomach no matter how much you try to stop it. “They aren’t in season, but there’s a vendor here that sells them in the Spring and Fall. Growing up, we lived right next to a river where they would grow. My father would pick them every year and bring them to my mother as a gift. Whenever they wilted, he picked more and replaced them…over and over until they weren’t in season anymore.”

You dig your teeth into the wet flesh of your cheek to stop yourself from rambling, the need to talk more about yourself is at the tip of your tongue. He’s quiet as he takes in your response, eyebrows twitching with fleeting emotion before they smooth out into their usual calm expression. Maybe it’s your eyes playing tricks, but he looks as if he’s locked away your little nugget of information and is ready to move on to the next thing.

More of you.

That gaze is now free of shyness and taking you in, sharp and cutting and rough around the edges, his green irises sliding down to the exposed skin of your thighs, and they must beckon him because he makes his way towards you with a dominating presence that tightens your throat. He walks around the countertop, avoiding the sharp edge from biting into his side and now he’s standing in front of you, looming and dwarfing you without even trying. You catch a whiff of his cheap cologne—a different scent from what you smelled before—but still rich with bergamot undertones that make you more curious than bothered at his frugal mentality.

“Can I kiss you? Or you gonna smack me instead?”

Even though he’s teasing, he displays the growing knowledge of your boundaries and the lengths you will go to protect yourself.

“What, you want to get smacked, Toji?” you retort, lifting an eyebrow at him, your neck tingling from the strain of looking up due to his height. God, he’s such a big man. Big and burly and just enough to overwhelm you in a way that you crave so, so much.

“Nah. I want a kiss,” he confidently responds, blowing away the cloud of lust from around your head.

He’s too close and yet not close enough. He smells too good, looks too good with a voice that’s too deep and melodic for you to ride on logic for a full day, but you need him closer, so much closer and—

Your back brushes against the edge of the kitchen sink, making you tense at the realization that he’s backed you up against it and is looking down at you with that nasty smirk you entertain more than you should.

“You…” you begin, trailing off when one of his muscular arms reaches past you to rest onto the counter on one side, still giving you an escape route even though you’ll take being trapped against him any time of the day. “You already kissed me on the cheek when you walked in without asking me. Don’t be stingy.”

Toji clicks his tongue in disappointment, the sound pushing a rush of electricity down your spine that’s generating too much energy between your legs. He shrugs, broad shoulders pulling up and down, stretching his shirt in the most delicious way. “That’s not enough.”

Although lust is darkening your thoughts slowly despite your resolve, you still have enough common sense to remember the kind of woman you are. You’re someone unwilling to tolerate fuckboy behavior and would rather humiliate a man than give in to temptation that would only embarrass you in the future. You have to stay in control. Just for the rest of the day to measure his intentions with a level head. Even though you feel heavy with lidded eyes, you slip into that second skin of yourself with ease.

“Ask nicely,” you whisper.

He takes the bait—like they always do—and slinks further into your space, his broad and muscular form brushes against your softer one. Your gaze remains indifferent as he asks to kiss you in a sing-song voice that’s borderline annoying and teasing, threatening to make you laugh despite your resistance.

You take in his question with a noncommittal hum and slide a hand up the soft fabric of his chest. The muscles underneath flex and twitch beneath your palm, echoing memories of that unforgettable night when you could slide your fingers on the sweat of his abs as you rode him for all he was worth.

Your hand rests against his cheek, watching as he slowly falls for your trap, inhaling deeply with his lips a mere breath away from yours before you speak calmly and softly.

“No.”

You stroke his cheek in a soothing manner before patting it a little too hard that’s close to a smack, yanking a grunt of frustration from him as he pulls away with an bothered growl. You relish in the sigh of his scar twisting when his face curls with annoyance, his eyes rolling and his arms folding across his chest like a child being denied dessert. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips, growing in intensity as his eyes narrow at you.

“You’re so damn annoying,” he pouts, and the fact that he truly looks put off for not getting a kiss only makes you laugh harder.

***

The sight and sound of cheering fans excite you, filling you with childhood memories of games with your father. As the four of you make your way through the large parking lot and in the direction of the stadium, you take in the display of emotions that cross Toji’s face as he is immersed in a part of culture unfamiliar to him. The intricacies of American sports are puzzling to Toji, you realize. While you wave excitedly to the fans who are tailgating and grilling food and playing cornhole, he looks on in disbelief. When you explain the concept of tailgating to him, his expression deepens even more. He doesn’t like the hecklers that litter right outside the entrance and try to sell nosebleed tickets twelve times the market price. He thinks porta-pottys are foul as he takes in the long line of people who wait along the side of the large parking lot. You can tell he’s a little overwhelmed, and aggravated by the new things he learns. But he doesn’t complain, content to listen to the three of you as he watches his surroundings.

Despite the array of emotions that engulf him, he keeps you by his side without a second thought. The closer you get to the stadium, the thicker the crowd gets. When you make it through security and begin the long journey up the stone circular walkway of the stadium, Toji wraps a muscular arm around you and rests his hand on your hip in a grip that conveys a protective strength that shoots fluctuating reactions through you.

At first, you think he just wants his hands on you, and you’re prepared to smack his touch away. But then your perception shifts; a random man bumps into you with a sharp elbow into your arm and he turns around with an angry expression ready to yell. The glare that Toji levels at him leaves the man sputtering and apologizing before he slinks back into the crowd.

Normally, you don’t thrive off blatant displays of masculinity, but the sight of the man running away from Toji’s imposing stare makes your stomach fill with a deep-seated lust that surprises you. Like you’re a cavewoman, watching her caveman beat at his chest when another caveman gets too close to you. Toji grumbles to himself about the sheer number of people, his voice tinged with frustration even though his reassuring touch is gentle as he guides you through the throng of people toward your seats.

Thankfully, they aren’t nosebleeds, and they give you a good view of the field, with players already warming up. There is a large group of kids who hang off the rails, squealing in delight as their favorite players come and say hello and sign their jerseys and footballs. The speakers boom with music and commercial ads, the warm air carries the smell of popcorn up your nose, and your blood pumps in excitement.

It has been a while since you attended a football game, distant memories of sitting on your father’s shoulders as you both cheered in the stands. Since his death, you haven’t had the drive nor the time to attend another. So, to be in this position again with a man you are still trying to understand, it’s odd. But it’s not unwelcome and you’re going to enjoy every minute of it. When you watch football at home with your family, you’re a different person. You are loud and unashamed to express your feelings when you watch the games unfold. You stand up and sneer and bark at the officiant who can’t even hear you. You argue with your family about plays and players who will never know you. You love every emotion that the game brings out in you, and you’re unashamed to hide it. Toji is going to see a side of you that will either push him away or make him slink closer for more.

So, when the game begins with the kickoff, you join in the collective screams of the crowd, waving a towel in the air adorned with the yellow and black of your favorite team that is playing.

To your surprise once more, Toji did his homework. He effortlessly explains the rules as you both watch the first quarter together, looking to you for approval to make sure he’s correct. His attentive nature transforms into active participation as he cheers alongside you, his voice deep and booming compared to your screeching.

In the second quarter, there’s an injury on the field and the clash of pads ceases for long enough that fans leave their seats for food and to stretch their legs. Shiu and Rene disappear to get themselves a drink and it’s just you and Toji in the middle of empty seats.

“You’re a screamer,” he teases, his voice low and appreciative as he leans on his thigh with a cheek resting on his fist. His hair flows in the warm air before settling on pale cheeks.

“Too loud for you?” you retort, even if mildly curious about what he thinks of this side of yourself.

Toji purses his lips as he regards you with relaxed eyes. “It didn’t take me long to realize you’re not a dainty little thing. And besides,” A smile stretches across his face, white teeth glinting with a sinister disposition before his lips load with a remark you know will be salacious. “I like my women loud.”

You can be loud if he wants you to be. Preferably in another place besides your car where he can thrust like a man mad between your legs and dig those gleaming white teeth into the skin of your neck—

Oh.

For fuck’s sake. 

Your blood simmers in your veins at the suggestion in his words. His eyes watch your throat when you swallow a thick pool of spit and that smile grows impossibly larger, a Cheshire cat looking at you with nasty intent. He’s too aware of the effect he has on women, and you have to look away from him to resist succumbing to the seductive charm that he wields naturally.

You steer the conversation back into your hands. “You were so curious about me when we first met but I don’t know much about you. Are you here in America for a reason? What do you do for work?”

In your own line of work, observation is key; every subtle cue from your patients holds significance, revealing layers of truths that they usually try to conceal. So, when you notice the tension in Toji’s jaw at your question, the way his features contort subtly, it’s a detail you slot into a drawer of curiosity that takes part of the file cabinet of Toji in your mind.

“I’m a private investigator,” he confesses harshly, catching you off guard. It’s a revelation you don’t anticipate. His imposing features give you the impression of a firefighter or maybe even a cop. Not someone watching others in his car, bugging houses and apartments, and gathering evidence. A PI? You open that drawer of curiosity again and slot away this information as well. He shrugs away the awkwardness that your silence brings, nonchalant and dismissive, avoiding your gaze. “It pays the bills. The hours suck sometimes but…the work is easy.”

“So…naturally I can’t really ask about the things you do?” you don’t hide the inquisitiveness that coats your words.

“It’s nothing glamorous enough to talk about.” And that’s all he offers you in response.

You have a myriad of questions swirling in your mind, each vying for attention from a man who is as tight-lipped as you. How did he even get into this kind of work? Who are his clients? Cheaters, embezzlers…or criminals?

That and so much more brew in your mind, tumbling over the other but ultimately dissipating when you sense his reluctance, evident from his still-averted gaze and tense shoulders.

“What about family? You asked me about mine, but I never got to hear about yours.”

Granted, you only told him about the members of your family who danced in your backyard when you both were wrapped in one another two weeks ago. He doesn’t know about the more intimate parts of your family life. He doesn’t know about your father’s death, or the estrangement of your stepfamily. But that can come later. Toji hasn’t given you enough of himself.

Toji’s features now morph into disdain, souring the air between you. The bright emerald of his eyes dims with a grayish overcast, the liquid of the irises hardening like cooling lava.

His response is terse, laced with palpable displeasure that intensifies the acrid taste in the air. “There isn’t much to tell. I don’t get along with them, and they do their best to not get along with me either.” The timbre of his voice is lower, menacing enough to let you know it’s a subject he won’t entertain. At least for right now.

You open your mouth to speak again, to maybe apologize for making him uncomfortable, to reassure him that you wouldn’t judge him over something like this. He shifts in his seat, clasps his hands together and absentmindedly picks at a callous on the side of his thumb. The pink flush on his cheeks is not one of bashfulness, but of frustration and embarrassment. From the sliver of his eyes you can see, there is something simmering beneath the surface that might take you a while to unveil.

 “I do have a son, though.” The sentence shoots into the air and down your spine with a chilling clarity, breaking the flow of your thoughts as you blink in astonishment.

Pardon???

Considering he’s a grown man a few years older than you, it’s understandable. But the notion of him being a father never crossed your mind. The concept of children isn’t foreign to you; you see and take care of them every day. It’s the concept of children coming from him that’s a new development you have to consider.

While you believe you can handle a relationship with a single father, you’re upset at being told now, rather than before.

“You were with me all day two weeks ago and you never took the time to mention you have a son?”

You don’t hide your irritation. Once your trust is lost, it’s almost impossible to regain. Why would you give away sacred pieces of yourself to a man you wouldn’t trust to hold those pieces with care?

Despite your frustration, you rationalize.

Maybe Toji was nervous to bring it up? Some people may like to ease into such topics. This relationship, or whatever this is, is brand new and smooth. There haven’t been any cracks caused by arguments or behavior that is damaging.

But this isn’t about having a job that he’s not proud of or admitting that he is not financially responsible. This is about an entire child, a facet of his life that he cannot hide away. How long would he have waited to tell you if the topic of family hadn’t come up so soon? Would he have told you? Would he hide his son away and push him off to a babysitter on date nights so you are never aware? Would he sleep over at your house, so you can’t see the room that’s decorated for a child or the toys scattered about the floor?

As you wrestle with the growing anxiety that crawls across your skin, Toji fumbles for something in his pocket, his face a satisfying beet red as you watch him hand you his open phone. Bright from the illumination of the screen, you take in a picture of a young boy who bears a striking resemblance to Toji. His raven locks spiky and disheveled, his green eyes sharp and ethereal, and he wears a bored and calm expression just like his father. The chubbiness of his cheeks and innocence in his eyes tug at something in your chest; he can’t be any older than six years old. The sight of the boy makes you think of the many kids you take care of every day, and some of the frustration subsides within you.

“His name is Megumi,” he informs you, shy despite his rough exterior. He picks at the callous on the side of his thumb again, and one of his legs begins to shake in place.

The frustration dies down more. It’s a beautiful name, and as you look at the picture, a small smile tugs at your lips. You wonder what kind of a boy he is.

“Fuck listen—just I-I’m shit at this.”

You look up at him and take in the apprehension on his face. His lips are downturned in a gentle frown, the scar on the side of his face warped along with the muscles of his mouth. There’s a sense of shame in his gaze, and it somehow makes you feel relieved to know that he can feel just how upset you are.

“I don’t date women…I fuck them and stay around until they want me gone.” He doesn’t bother to sugarcoat his words. They shoot out of his mouth, piercing your skin with their directness. It’s a little painful, and you struggle to absorb his blatant honesty, feeling flashes of anger and indignation fill your chest as your lips part, ready to respond with directness of your own. “But you’re the first woman in a long fucking time that’s made me want more. So just…” he trails off, stuttering over what to say before ultimately growling low in his throat into silence.

You hesitate, lips flinching and syllables of fury dissipating in the small space between your top and bottom lip. “You gonna let me meet him?” you snap because you’re still mildly irritated as you give him his phone and pinch the muscle of his bicep with a harshness that reflects your fading anger and your desire to see him squirm for his actions.

He swats your hand away as if you’re a pest, moving his arm from you with a sneer that holds no malice. “No let me just lock him in my closet every time I want to see you—of course, I’ll fucking let you meet him.”

You throw him a withering glare, ignoring his sarcasm, and the smirk that slides onto his lips only makes you want to either smack or kiss him. The fact that you can’t decide on which only annoys you more.

*** Toji ***

“Gimme two hot dogs and a pretzel,” Toji mutters to the concession stand attendant. It’s halftime, and the walkways behind the stands are crowded with fans hurrying to go to the bathroom, or for more food and alcohol. You stand close to him, a welcome warmth that he wants more of but refuses to ask for on the off chance you deny him. He doesn’t feel like pouting for the rest of the day.

“And what’ll it be for the lady?” the attendant asks with a level of humor that is off-putting, a smile on his face that Toji knows you itch to smack off.

“It is for the lady,” you correct, a hint of condescension falling from plush lips that you still won’t let him taste. The attendant sputters, his face red as a tomato as he takes the rest of Toji’s order, doing his best to ignore the deadly glare you shoot him as he counts Toji’s money. A snort rattles from Toji’s chest as he watches you. He’s known from the beginning that you’re fiery, but seeing it firsthand fascinates and arouses him at the same time.

This environment is different for him, odd in every way, and a foreign ground that he’s unsteady on. The celebratory atmosphere reminds him of the loud laughter and fireworks from festivals that he could hear outside the Zenin compound throughout the year. He thinks of the Tanabata festivals he never got to experience or the years of Hanami that he was forbidden to enjoy. He could only take a small bit of pleasure in cherry blossoms in the Zenin gardens, blooming and scattering their petals on the well-kept grass to mark the beginning of the season. As a child, he was never allowed much. He was seen as ‘inferior trash’ that was insignificant and unworthy to be looked at let alone talked to unless it was to yell or belittle. Naturally, his family didn’t want others to see where said trash came from if they could help it.

He can’t think about it right now—he won’t. The thought of his family brings a tight coil of pain and anger in his chest, a coil he had used as fuel to cope with his dangerous decisions.

There’s so much more that he needs to focus on, like the fact that you’ve already taken a big bite out of one of your hot dogs. Half of it has disappeared from your hand, and there’s ketchup on the edge of your mouth as you chew. He notices the way you shift your hips from side to side in your seat, and the satisfied hum that escapes your throat. You’re satisfied, and while you eat with manners, you don’t hide your boisterous enjoyment, finishing one hot dog and moving on to the next, your pretzel wedged between the meat of your seductive thighs.

He’s been trying to be respectful all day ever since you denied him a kiss in the kitchen, but you’re tempting him. When you answered the door earlier in the afternoon, the hand that was in his pocket pinched the side of his thigh until the shameless thoughts could fade away.

You’ve graced his presence with shorts and a jersey, a yellow and black number that lays against your chocolate skin in a way that still seems to make you glow in the setting sun. No braids this time, your natural curls have fallen from your bun after screaming so much, framing your face and causing your gold hoops to wink at him. You didn’t wear makeup that night when he met you, so the sight of eyeliner on you today, and the way it accentuates the curve of your eye and the heaviness of your long lashes, it makes him shift in his seat.

He’s had to clench his jaw and bear the pain of his teeth grinding against each other to stop himself from ogling at the mouth-watering canvas of your legs. You’re all curves with dimples at the bottom of your thighs when you sit, and his gums ache to sink into the flesh so you can squeal and beg for him to touch you where you want it most. It’s been weeks since that night and he’s feigning for more. When you smile at him or shoot him a glare, it reminds him of that commanding aura you had in the backseat of your truck, and the back of his neck prickles with sweat.

While the thought of you skinning him alive if he decides to be a Neanderthal turns him on, he wants to be civil. In your kitchen earlier today, you allowed him to get close enough to feel the heat radiating from your skin, to catch the scent of coconut from your curls, tantalizing his senses until your firm ‘no’ sobered him up immediately. It was a stark reminder of who you are, and how little you tolerate.

He'll behave.

His eyes catch you guzzling down five heaping gulps of your beer, the foam coating your upper lip. You wipe it away with your finger, sucking the digit into your mouth, and popping it out completely oblivious to how sinful you look and Toji’s catapulted into that day when you sucked your own cum off his fingers.

He has to behave.

The vibration of his phone in his pocket sours his mood immediately, turning his gaze from your form as he digs into his pocket. It’s the third time it’s buzzed today, and he knows who it is. No matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can only put off his job for so long.

Unknown: Good job on the assignment last week. 

Unknown: Your pay should be in your account by tonight.

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

“Everything okay?” Your voice pulls him from his phone, and he meets your curious gaze, one of your elegant eyebrows lifting in question as you assess him. “Something with work?”

“Yea,” he replies and regrets it immediately.

Lie #1

It’s not a complete lie—it is work—but the details…

Toji takes a long swig of his beer, attempting to soothe the shame that washes over him.

You really are a screamer.

Toji sits back in his seat, watching you with a wicked smile as you unleash a torrent of colorful language that makes his cock twitch. Even though you roar with the crowd, your voice rises higher.

“That’s a fucking flag! I should come down there and officiate for you instead you stupid piece of shit!”

Your curls brush the skin of your cheeks that puff in your frustration, your arms folding across your chest as you cock your hip and growl beneath your breath. You’re easily the loudest one in this section of the stands. Rene revels in it, egging you on by rooting for the opposite team and giggling when you bark at her. Shiu is content to watch the display, a fresh toothpick in his mouth and an arm over Rene’s shoulders as he idly twirls a lock of hair at her nape. You’re all yelling and sputtering indignation as you watch the game unfold, your team losing by what Toji has learned is a touchdown.

He knew this side of you was there. He could tell in the weight of your gaze that night. It's a side of you that he did not expect to see so soon. He soaks it in. He takes in the way you cuss out the man three rows down who won’t stop glaring at you. He absorbs how high-pitched the screech of your voice makes his eardrums shake, and he revels in the smile that forms on your lips when your team scores the game-winning touchdown.

When there are lulls in the game, you tell him about your career. You’re a pulmonary pediatric fellow at a hospital here in town that’s only a year and a half from completing your fellowship. You smile when you talk about the kids you take care of and your associates at work. You’re proud of your research and of how far you’ve come.

All of it, every part of you that you show him, is comforting. Warm despite how cold you appear. It’s a comfort he didn’t imagine having…ever in his life—especially a dreary life like his. But he soaks up this—you—as much as he can.

When the game is over, you’re elated and giggling, tucked into his side as he guides you through the drunken crowd. The moon is high in the sky, and it bathes your skin and makes you stand out in the crowd. You look up at him, smiling softly with a buzzed gaze that’s two beers deep.

“Did you have fun? Not bad for your first American game?”

“You screamed the entire time,” he teases, chuckling at the way you gape up at him and then sneer before turning away. He throws his arm around your shoulders, using the touch as a safe territory to keep his hands to himself, and pulls you closer.

You demand cotton candy which he indulges in as well before you both part ways with Rene and Shiu. The journey back to your apartment is a quiet one. As Toji drives, the warm July air fills the car, mingling with the faint strains of classic rock playing on the radio. Toji watches with flickering glances as you hum along, your eyes closed and the breeze wafting through your curls loose around your shoulders.

Something inside of him rattles. Whatever it is, it’s long-forgotten and buried deep within him, surrounded by cobwebs and dust that have accumulated over time since that dark day years ago.

*** You ***

From the short journey of his car to inside of your apartment, you repeat to yourself that you have to take this slow, for your own peace of mind.

You keep the most intimate parts of yourself locked away and only those who are worthy of you have a copy of the key. But somehow, and in such a short time, Toji has stolen a copy for himself and slotted the key into the door. But thankfully, the door is caught against the wall, hinges rusted over and ungiving.

You have to know more about him before you let him in to look at those parts of you. If you jump the gun and give him more so soon and end up hurt, it will throw you into a depth of pain that you promised yourself to never touch again if you could help it.

“You have a good time?”

Toji’s voice breaks the silence, his arms folding tightly across his chest, betraying the restlessness in his hands. His messy black locks, tousled by the late July humidity, partially hide his emerald gaze, which flickers briefly to meet your own before darting away.

Your socked feet pad across the hardwood floor, closing the space between you, and your head slowly tilts to look at him. Despite his façade of composure, his scar curves against his lips in a slight twist, twitching as he tries not to frown. Thin eyebrows pitch down in frustration, and you catch the way his fingertips drum against the skin of his biceps. He’s fidgety—nervous. Is he upset with himself? Ashamed that he couldn’t take you out on a proper date with dinner and a movie like everyone else expects?

Hopefully, he will learn that you go against the grain of proper in so many ways.

“I had a great time,” you confess softly, noticing the subtle relaxation in his stance at your words. The thrumming of his fingers stop, the tension in his shoulder fades. “You wanted to take me out and I let you. That all you want from me?”

He’s such an expressive man.

His face twists, perturbed by your bluntness and the prospect of delving into emotional territory. “I told you already that I want more.”

His declaration sends a fluttering through your heart that is reminiscent of the feeling you had when he surprised you with a slice of yellow cake. It’s comforting, and you want to lean into it. But it’s not enough to overwhelm you. You’re still in your right mind and still aware of your expectations even though he captivates you.

You press your finger into the firmness of his chest, hard so that the muscle pillows around your digit. The gaze you shoot up at him is unyielding, serious, and menacing enough that he straightens his spine just a little.

“Listen to me, because I’m only going to say this one more time. I don’t do situationships. I don’t do friends with benefits or the occasional hookup. I’m not saying things need to be serious with us but…you need to show me that you mean it.”

As you speak, you assess Toji, who shows no signs of amusement or ignorance. His posture is rigid, his back ramrod straight, and his deep green gaze locked onto yours.

“That night we had was great. I won’t deny that but…I won’t compromise my expectations and I don’t tolerate bullshit. I’m not going to let you fuck me just because we did it before. You want more? I want you to try. Earn me.”

You relish in the way his eyes widen, contemplating your words and the severity beneath them before his face smooths back into its usual cool demeanor. He unfolds his arms from his chest, and you curse inwardly at the way you immediately watch his shirt stretch across defined pectorals.

“You know you’re a feisty little thing.”

Heat from the way he speaks and annoyance at his lack of attention flare within you like wildfire. You open your mouth to yell, to bark at him to be serious, but the sound of his laughter extinguishes that fire inside of you instantly.

He doesn’t offer an apology for his comment and you don’t need one. You know you’re feisty and steadfast. It’s the only way you can function around men to survive, to stay afloat and still have a grasp of who you are. And if Toji couldn’t handle it, you definitely wouldn’t have slept with him or entertained a date that you thoroughly enjoyed.

“I’ll try,” he finally offers, voice soft but filled with conviction. Normally the small remark would offend you, but surprisingly coming from Toji, it’s enough.

Observing his behavior today and a little bit two weeks ago, you note his acceptance of your quirks and individuality—at least the bits you allow him to see. He marveled at the amount of food you ate and joined alongside you. He let you babble to him about every single player on your favorite team and how many championships they had won. He let you display your strength in your voice and personality, didn’t try to control or overshadow you like so many other past experiences you’ve had before learning how to rule the men in your life.

He let you be yourself.

And that thought makes you finally open your mouth to give him something he had asked for earlier, something you had previously denied despite your own desires.

“You can have your kiss,” you offer with a shrug, feigning nonchalance even though your heart picks up in speed as the implication registers on his face. “So you better do it right.”

It’s an invitation that he snatches away from your imaginary hands and tears open with thick fingers, greedy and growling with finality.

His sharp gaze traces the contours of your body, unabashed in its appraisal, leering at the pieces of skin visible to him. You know he’s been looking at you all day, but his observation now is intense, heavy and without reservation and you’re fumbling from the sudden rush of longing that pumps hot through your veins.

Toji inches closer, your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, his towering presence overwhelming your small stature. His height ignites an evolutionary desire in you that makes your mouth water, makes your cunt pulse with need beckoning for him to fill the mold he left inside two weeks ago. You’re still not used to climbing up the summit of him, so the air is thin once more, pulling the oxygen from your lungs and stuttering in your chest when a large hand cups the side of your neck and tilts your face up to him like an offering.

When his lips slide against yours, your fingers in his shirt tighten. His touch singes the ends of your nerves, boils the blood in your veins that pump fast throughout your body. Your skin is burning, searing when muscular arms hoist you up and wrap your legs around his thick waist before your ass is sliding on the cold marble of your kitchen counter, your lips still sealed against his.

There’s so much of this that feels like that night at your uncle’s. So much and yet not enough.

He drowns you with his touch, digs his fingers into the plump flesh of your thighs before yanking you, hard and with unforgiving impatience, closer to his body. The fabric of your jeans rubs too harsh against your wet panties, digs against the sensitivity of your clit and you repress the insatiable yearning to roll your hips against his.

Toji’s large hands slide up your body, traversing the mesh of your jersey that hugs you before cupping each side of your face again to tilt you sharper in the way he wants. Blue raspberry from the cotton candy you both indulged in after the game coats his tongue that licks your bottom lip in a silent request for entrance, and you grant him access, surrendering a whimper into his mouth as his tongue slides sinfully against yours. Tastebuds kiss your own, slide against them with whispered promise of satisfaction if you just relax and melt further into him. Just a little.

But you can’t, god you can’t.

You’re losing control and you have to stay strong. You have to stay above the waters of logical thinking even though you’re sinking with every stroke of his tongue, with every sweet, hot breath into your mouth, with every inch of flesh that your fingers dig into his chest because you need more. More than a kiss, more than what he’s offering, and you know he can give it to you. Toji can pull you into the inferno he’s raging inside of your body until your clothes are scorched off and his skin is sliding against yours sweaty, sticky, and undulating with every roll of his hips.

But he doesn’t give you more. He doesn’t pull you further into that fire.

The intensity of his kiss dies down slowly, his lips pulling away from yours with a wet smack as you pant along with him. Toji kisses your lips once, then twice, nips your bottom lip to seal everything he’s given before smirking down at you. Too devilish and arrogant and you don’t have a working brain cell in your head right now to correct him. His hands that cradle your cheeks slide down to your upper arms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he speaks.

“You still gonna let me be nice to you?”

His words are an echo of that night, his own way of telling you that he’s here. That he wants more—that he wants to give you more. You just have to let him.

With your head still swimming and the pulsing between your legs refusing to calm, you want him to be more than nice right now. But remembering the boundaries you have set, you nod instead and sigh into him when he kisses you one last time, sweeping his blue raspberry-flavored tongue against yours before pulling away, acting as though it’s nothing, as though you’re not sweaty at the small of your back and trembling with desire.

“Lock the door for me,” he commands, words devoid of a questioning tone, but filled with a sense of security and protection that you lean into.

“O-okay,” you manage to breathe, your heart slowing back into sinus rhythm, only to jump again as he places one final kiss on your lips, then your nose. You frantically bat him away before you lose consciousness, because any more and you’ll drag him into your room and disregard everything you said five minutes ago.

 You watch him saunter away, pull his keys from his pocket, and twirl them in his hand before winking. “I’ll text you.”

It sounds so ridiculous coming from his lips, from a grown man who looks as if he doesn’t even know what a cellphone is, let alone a text message.

But it still makes your heart jump all the same.

You can only nod in response because your throat is too dry and heavy in the back of your throat with each swallow you take. You follow him to the door and roll your eyes at his annoying smirk before he closes the door behind him, casting your apartment into silence.

Your fingers wobble as they turn the locks of your door into place. You’re lightheaded, brain flitting through salacious memories of what you both did weeks ago and what you could easily be doing now.

You throw your back against the door and sag to the floor with an annoyed sigh.

*** Toji ***

Unknown: There’s another contract for you if you’re interested. Message me back and I’ll send you details.

Toji: I’m interested. Send me what you have.

[gvenevera]

Kuroshitsuji Musical ~ 寄宿学校の秘密 (Secrets of the Boarding School) 2024 ~ VERA’S REVIEW!

Yes you read that right! I’ve had the most fateful chance to watch the very first performance of the newest Kuromyu in Hyogo last Saturday, so I figured I’ll eternalize some of my best memories here.

Before we begin: the LIVE STREAMING is available for the LAST PERFORMANCE, September 29th 2024, HERE! For only 3800 yen, you’ll get to watch it live at home, or watch it later for up to 1 week (October 6th)! Apparently you need a Japanese VPN though, if anyone knows how to navigate the site, please do share.

A few disclaimers from me:

*Anti-shippers DNI. This post barely has any shipping content at all but I don’t like people who harass others over fictional preferences. I’m a shipper, I can’t help being biased for my OTPs.

**Since photos were prohibited in the venue, I’ve included stage pictures featured in official news websites or accounts.

***This is by no means a critical review but merely a fangirl’s ramblings, and I often drew comparisons to the original stage play Kuroshitsuji Musical: Secrets of the Boarding School (2021). For reference, I suggest you watch it first! I intentionally avoided rewatching the 2021 version close to the airing date though, so my memories may not be accurate. Also my Japanese is mediocre so I apologize if there were important dialogues I didn’t catch.

Introduction

I know, sorry for the dilly-dally intro. But I’d like to first stress that ever since I started following Kuroshitsuji in my first year of university (like 9 years ago now lmao), I’ve ALWAYS dreamed to watch the stage musical live in person. When 2024’s performance was announced immediately after the last episode of the anime, I was overjoyed to see that our old cast was coming back.

And it was fate that gave me the opportunity - my scheduled work program this year was set to be in Kyoto AND during September! Needless to say, I had the Kuromyu ticket bought and reserved first, before my confirmation with the Kyoto office or my visa and plane ticket. Priorities, right?

Quick remark on the ticket process: I hit a snag right in the beginning because the ticket reservation website Eplus required a Japanese phone number to sign up. I contacted multiple people (middle school friend whose brother used to work in Japan, another who was quarter-Japanese, several dealer websites with high rate exchanges), until I settled on my roommate’s friend from high school who was currently working there. Many thanks to her and my roommate for the help!

She took care of registration for me - even so the advance sales was a LOTTERY ticket! We fortunately got the lucky draw - I saw many Japanese fans on X who were not so lucky, while others bought in bulk to sell later. Then, I used the online barcode to exchange for a paper ticket when I arrived in Japan on September 1st. That’s when I get to know my seat number - 3rd floor, 2nd row B. A very far position from the stage, but it’s alright because we’re here for the atmosphere anyway!

The performances for the first 2 days were set in Hyogo Performing Arts Center, KOBELCO grand hall. I’ve honestly never been to any kind of music performance (or even concerts) in my life, so I was blown away by the sheer size of the venue.

By 10 AM, the audience was trickling in. I was in awe of the fact that you can tell who was coming in to watch kuromyu - beautiful women dressed in black-and-white tones, many even sporting gothic lolita bows and dresses to keep up with the Victorian England theme. In fact, it felt like the whole of Ikebukuro were gathered here in this very building!

We were ushered into the hall entrance at 11 AM and let me tell you, the crowd was suffocating! In front of the theater, there was a goods section for Kuromyu merch. I’m so glad I took the time to queue up because it seems some of the merch were starting to sell out by the second day. The booth clerk looked perplex to see a non-Japanese customer here though. Here’s how the line looked like, and this was still early before most of the audiences got in:

(We’re not supposed to take any photos but I saw the warning signs too late…Here’s a view from where I was sitting on the third floor.)

I realized then as we were settling in that some ladies around me had binoculars!! Well how was I supposed to know you could bring those here, instead of trying to find those fancy opera glasses!?! Ah well, I was lucky that I’d recently had my prescription glasses updated and the seat to my left was vacant, so I could lean in to see the center better.

The Performance

While it is true that you can barely see the actors’ faces from the balcony seats, it was the grandness of the performance itself that blew me away. For the first time I could see the stage in all its entirety, all the actors dancing in synchronization, and the special effects…oh it had improved A LOT from 3 years prior!

The stage sets for Weston may look a tad “crowded” in the still photo, as compared to the original where they used white backgrounds but in reality, it blended in so prettily with the flashing stage lights. The middle section was a rotating floor and one of my memorable scenes was where Ciel and Sebastian were discussing their plans while crossing the rotating stage, to give the illusion of “strolling across the school grounds.” Sounds like a simple trick but if looked amazing from above.

On to the story itself - the execution actually barely changed from the 2021 rendition, which for me, was a relief! Now I know, some would argue a rerun should add in different elements, because who would want to see the same thing twice right? From past experiences with Kuromyu, the reruns tend to be hit or miss - different actors, different song remixes, voice changes, and so on. For this performance, I could barely tell that the cast (apart from Ciel, Sebastian and Undertaker) were all new members. Everyone got into character flawlessly!

The story of course followed the entirety of the Public School Arc. The script and choreography was almost identical to the 2021 stage musical version. If you would remember, this Kuroshitsuji arc was the first to be portrayed on stage before the anime adaptation - same as previously, they seemed to take inspiration from the manga only rather than the anime.

Some key moments from the play:

The opening sequence was again a recap of the previous arcs - Jack the Ripper (Lycoris that Blazed the Earth), Book of Circus (Noah’s Ark Circus), Book of the Atlantic (Tango on the Campania). I’ve always loved this part because you could tell they slipped in iconic themes from the past musicals.

Perfect Black: the main theme, and my favorite from this stage! I’m so happy to have heard it live! *swoons* Thank god they didn’t do anything weird to remix it. The whole cast dancing together was beautiful! However I thought 2021 did it better with the dramatic light focus on Sebastian during the chorus drop.

Ciel’s Earl of Phantomhive outfit was changed from the glittery blue suit to a blue-green checkered coat this year. (I’d have bought his Earl photoshoot set if I knew it beforehand) Yana-sensei later tweeted that she was the one to re-design it, to better match Eito. Then Eito Konishi himself replied, saying he was honored to play as Ciel Phantomhive, to which Yana-sensei praised his singing and called him “Eito-bocchan” …boy was he fanboying hard over that. He’s one of us!!

Arrival at Weston: I don’t have a comment on the P4 in particular, they were all straightforward from the manga. I think I like Redmond’s character the most here, he looked very pretty with the side-ponytail and while he was a show-off still, he wasn’t as annoying or arrogant as I somehow expected.

A notable interaction: Violet forcing Greenhill to pose for him at the swan gazebo. Greenhill’s actor really looked strained trying to keep an upside down bridge pose (Edward was supporting his back, but kept getting distracted). When he broke the pose and got up, Violet hit him over the head with his sketchbook so hard that the thump echoed through the hall.

As for the Prefect’s Fags: Edward and Cheslock were giving off some suspiciously gay rivals-to-lovers vibes over here. Which I kinda vibed with, I hope they kept the energy into the Blue Cult Arc!

One important thing: they kept the ALL the Fag lines! Which in Japanese accent also kinda sounded like them repeatedly calling each other “Fućk”. Oh how I wish the anime had kept those!

Soma Asman Kadar: now this guy deserves an ovation just for himself. Not only did he kill the role, he was also the funniest! Soma’s song was greatly improved and lengthened with catchier music and dancing - when his troupe “arrived” at Weston, he even dragged Ciel and Clayton to join in. I can’t do it justice, you have GOT to see those two English gentlemen crack the Indian dance moves! His pestering of Maurice Cole was hilarious and he kept exasperating Ciel out of his character, their chemistry was wonderful. I really didn’t expect to get hooked by Soma in this arc out of all people! Too bad Agni wasn’t here.

Maurice Cole’s miniarc - Flawless. Sometimes I wonder if he was an easy character to play just because his character trait is so extremely over-the-top lol.

The library kabedon scene and sebaciel burning Purple House scene didn’t exist. Another scene cut off from the last musical was where Clayton and the Blue House kids were congratulating Ciel on his fag duties and Sebastian took the chance to blend in with them. Sadly that was one of my favorite adlibs.

Ciel’s dream sequence: this was originally in the 2021 musical. After a talk with Macmillain made him revisit his past trauma, Ciel “dreamed” of the cultists, and Sebastian’s close call with Undertaker in BotA. I actually forgot about this part when I watched it in theater - the highlight was sebaciel reenacting the scene in BotA where they reached for each other, the enactment surprisingly gave me the impression of Ciel’s “worry” over Sebastian’s “vulnerability” here. Unlike the 2021 version though, Undertaker didn’t pull Ciel into a bridal carry or referenced the R!Ciel wake-up scene as clearly.

The second half after the break was the long-awaited Cricket Match. Like the previous version, there was no scene of Ciel jumping into Master Michaelis’ arms, but I think they just couldn’t fit that one into the sequence. The cricket songs were mostly the same as the original - with an improvement being them cutting out Red House’s random beauty pageant contest. It actually felt like the cricket match went by faster this time, which was a win in my book. I’ve heard people complain of Kuromyu 2021 being a “Prince of Cricket” musical, hence the bad reviews back then.

The laxative meat pie scene was hilarious. From Sebastian faking it as a student complete with Red House’s uniform, to the team’s diarrhea horrors. Redmond stole the show again, as he was going to help Harcourt in the middle of the field, but tragedy struck which made him deadpan: “Oh. Someone get Harcourt.” Then immediately left the stage lol. The Blue House kids lifted Harcourt out.

The Green vs Purple house battle was the same as last time. I always felt bad to see Cheslock being the only Purple kid doing his best because without any support member cast while Violet was sitting in the grass. But this time, he gave Cheslock a tree sculpture of his bust as a good-job reward! Good for them.

Lastly Green vs Blue. They incorporated the rotating stage again in the last batting when Greenhill accidentally hit Ciel. The end of the match cut straight to the Thames Boat Ride, then they did the Blue House cheering scene after. Sebastian finally got to do his signature bridal carry, awww.

Midnight tea party: the setting was even more beautiful than last time. Undertaker letting his hair fall from his hat was iconic as usual. I was impressed with Master Agares’ fight scenes because his actor looked quite older than his 2021 predecessor. I always liked how they did Derrick Arden’s death in the musical, it felt more anguished from the P4 POV while in the anime, it just felt like a gruesome horror scene.

Final musical number was Ciel-Sebastian-Undertaker chorus during their fight in the garden. Music and choreography seemed to be similar, EXCEPT they somehow changed the iconic “Your life is my priority” scene!!! 2021’s version had me hold my breath as Sebastian had his arm possessively hooked around Ciel and took off his glove with his teeth (seriously, you have to see it yourself). This time they had Sebastian and Ciel reenact the scene on the highest stage instead of front and center, and I didn’t feel as much suspense nor was there any glove-removal from what I could see. It was also a weird placement because they were so far away, and Undertaker should’ve been the one on the top as he did his goodbye pose holding the moon.

We end the story with Sebastian recapping the aftermath with Weston’s students, and finally sebaciel’s conversation back at the manor. Again, Ciel reiterates that Sebastian is the only one who could never lie nor betray his trust. Perfect Black came on as an outro, and I got chills when Sebastian ended the last verse on a raised note!

The curtain call was the experience I’d waited for. Somehow I only realized just then that the actors would do the full call during their finale performance, which was what we got to see in the recordings! That day, after the cast bowed twice, the exit announcement immediately came on but guess what? The audience, including myself, kept clapping all the way through the announcement, it went for so long that the cast actually came out to take another bow! As they returned on stage, most of us also stood up for a standing ovation - according to twitter this doesn’t seem to be a regular occurrence outside of the finale. It felt like a truly wholesome “welcome back” for the troupe and for Kuromyu, especially after the rather harsh criticisms from the previous stage (due to major cast and style changes, even I took a while to bring myself to watch it) and the long break due to the COVID years.

Overall summary

Kuroshitsuji Musical 2024 was a faithful rerun of its predecessor. They succeeded with the musical numbers, new cast, overall adaptation of the story. The settings, props and special effects were wonderfully upgraded. The original cast carried the show: Eito Konishi’s singing felt greatly improved and I thought he carried himself as more mature than his last performance as Ciel. Sebastian’s Toshiki Tateishi had a mesmerizing voice the more I listened to him, he never went out of breath even while dancing or fighting - truly vocals fit for the troupe leader. Kandai Ueda did well as his own Undertaker too, even with Undertaker’s peculiar accent.

My few complaints: I felt like the P4 cast (bar Redmond) could do to have more distinction in their tones and movements. It felt hard to distinguish who was talking at times. The performance seemed to have a faster pacing this time around, and you get less absorbed in certain conversations between the characters, so I wished they’d added in slow scenes here and there. And of course I miss the signature sebaciel moments that I’ve mentioned - granted, this manga arc had always been my least favored because of the lack of sebaciel interactions anyway! So I’d say they did the best with the source material.

While I enjoyed seeing my favorite production performed live with the music blasting through my eardrums, it was the atmosphere that truly made the experience for me. Sitting in the 4-storeys grand hall full of some 2000 Kuroshitsuji fans really pulled me back in time, especially during the standing ovation. I’m so happy to see my favorite series so loved after all these years. I’m sure Yana-sensei could feel it too.

I wish a successful performance for the cast going forward to Tokyo, and hopeful for many more musicals to come!

[too-antigonish]

The Great S7 Rewrite

An attempt at summarizing the rocky ground on which we some of us stand following this rather epic post yesterday: Prophetic words from Morse in Oracle?

People had so many interesting things to say that I though it would be nice to keep this discussion public for now.

On the most basic level, Season 7 has two overarching storylines: 

Opera Storyline: The one with Morse, Violetta, Ludo,  and the mysterious accidental deaths

Towpath Murders: The one with Morse and Thursday fighting mainly over whether or not Carl Sturgis did it.

Then you have the episodic murders for each episode: 

Oracle: The math TV program, Dept. of Latent Potential, women’s lib conference, and  misogynist professors in Oracle

Raga: The Indian restaurant, restaurant critic, gay wrestlers, racist poker game organizing politicians in Raga

Zenana: The coming together of the opera storyline and the towpath murder storyline in Zenana.

If, theoretically, you wanted a do-over for S7, what would you need to consider? Below are some of the issues raised in discussion yesterday:

Bone of Contention #1: Opera Rules

S7 may or may not have been asking us to view its world according to “opera rules.” If it wasn’t, then the storylines were just outrageous. If it was, then they didn’t do an adequate job of either:

Signaling that we needed to see this world through that filter

Making the story robust enough that you didn’t *need* to see the opera references to “get” the storylines. (As Durian pointed out: Ride works even if you don’t realize that it’s Gatsby, but S7 doesn’t work if you don’t realize it’s opera. It doesn’t stand on its own.)

I think actual S7 tried to signal that we were in Opera World (#1) by: 

Using theatrical techniques (voiceovers, mise en scene/ tableaux, etc.) to signal that we were in opera world (i.e. heightened reality)

Using opera tropes

Using role reversal with the characters. I think that’s a big reason why the season feels so unsettling overall. Normally Morse is the one doggedly pursuing a hunch based on an obscure clue. This time it’s Thursday. Normally it is Thursday finding out that Morse didn’t check someone’s alibi. This time it’s Morse. Normally Morse and Thursday are calling the shots at the crime scene. This time DeBryn and Strange are having to put them in their place like squabbling children. Etc., etc.

Things in the show are “out of place” as well. (e.g. Thursday is at the early morning crime scene in Oracle instead of Morse. Morse is in Venice instead of Oxford.)

So the questions about Opera Rules are:

Do you keep the idea of Opera Rules for S7?

If you keep Opera Rules, how do you do a better job of signaling them?

If you keep Opera Rules, how do you make the story strong enough that people who don’t understand opera rules will know what’s happening? 

Do you just out-and-out tell people about Opera Rules?

Bone of Contention #2: Ludo and Violetta?

I have yet to hear from anyone who really likes Ludo and Violetta. If someone reading this does, I’d be fascinated to hear why. To say that I find them off-putting is being kind. Why is Morse attracted to two such unpleasant people? And not only attracted, but taken in by both of them? Normally Morse is attracted to girl-next-door types (Monica, Joan). Normally Morse has no time for snobs who name-drop and talk about themselves non-stop (Oxford Don stereotype). 

For me the disconnect lies not in the fact that he could be taken in. I think Astrid and Fanfic are very right about both Morse’s lack of wisdom when it comes to friendship and love, and well as his “secret” desire to have friends who perhaps share more of his interests. The leap I can’t make is that it would happen with these two specific people. Even taking into account that Morse is behaving “the opposite” of his usual way, I can’t see him being attracted to either of these two personalities. 

In the end, like Astrid, I like the *idea* of the Ludo and Violetta storyline but found the way it was played out too incongruous. So what to do? It seems like you can either retool Ludo and Violetta or replace them entirely. Which you choose I think depends on how you want to remake the story and how loyal you are to canon.

My first instinct is to replace them. I find both of them so repugnant, but I do find myself returning repeatedly to an idea that I had when I first watched Oracle, which was that Violetta might actually be more directly based on the Violetta from La Traviata.

She would be a woman from the “other side of the tracks” so-to-speak, but genuinely in love with Morse. You could also use Traviata’s bit where Violetta’s “betrayal” of Alfredo is actually self-sacrifice, etc. I’m not sure about Ludo, but it would definitely need to be someone that Morse would *actually* want to befriend and not someone as obvious as Ludo.

So the questions about Ludo and Violetta are:

Do you keep Ludo and Violetta?

If you keep them, how do you retool them? 

If you throw them out, what do you replace them with? 

Either way (new or retooled), how do you make Morse’s attraction to them believable?

Either way (new or retooled), do you use existing opera tropes/storylines as a basis for their story?

Bone of Contention #3: Towpath Storyline

It seems that there is pretty much universal agreement on keeping the Towpath Murders as a storyline. Also, there is pretty much unanimous approval for the idea of an earlier and more prominent role for Dorothea in the case. Durian points out that this could also have the side effect of reducing some of the tension between Morse and Thursday. 

Disagreement arises over two main elements:

Too many things going on in the storyline

How the conflict between Thursday and Morse is handled.

I’m in agreement on both of these things. In terms of the number of things going on in the storyline you have the whole is it or isn’t it a serial killer, the ESP angle, the flasher thing, the copycat killer, all of the animal imagery and later wolf imagery, the blood drinking, and much, much more. It could work if it all tied together coherently, but it doesn’t—at least for me. It feels like I can sort of see what they were going for, but that they definitely didn’t get there. There needs to be a unifying theme.

With the conflict between Thursday and Morse, my problem is not so much that they have the conflict, but that it comes seemingly out of nowhere. We jump from the reconciliation of Degüello to the petty arguments of Oracle with nothing in-between to explain the change. It’s not that I didn’t find the conflict between these two characters interesting or believable. It’s simply that there was nothing to explain it. Yes, you can say that Morse was becoming more of his own man, but that doesn’t seem adequate to me.

So the questions about the Towpath Storyline are: 

What elements would you throw out and what would you keep?

What would make a good unifying theme for the Towpath case?

What is the source of the conflict between Morse and Thursday? What sets it off?

How do we have Ms. Frazil on the case sooner rather than later?

How does Dorothea diminish tension between Thursday and Morse. 

Of the arguments between Morse and Thursday, what would you keep and what would you throw out?

Bone of Contention #3: The Episodic Storylines

I find it pretty telling that except for one brief mention, no one has strong feelings about the episodic mystery in Oracle. It definitely had less substance that the one in Raga, in part because it had to leave room for the establishment of the two big overarching stories. Personally, I found the sexism angle (the Women’s Lib Conference and Prof. Blish beating out the others for the spot on the tv show) more compelling than the ESP studies angle.

Durian mentioned that Raga, like the Towpath Murders, has way too much going on (Indian restaurant, Oberon Prince and his ex-wife, the gay wrestlers, the racist poker game, the return of the evil beautician, two stabbed teenagers, etc.) Fanfic raised the interesting idea of making the conflict in Raga more of a family conflict, using the political situation with East and West Pakistan (Bangladesh) as a focus.

So the questions about the Episodic Storylines are: 

What elements would you throw out of Oracle and what would you keep?

What elements of Oracle would you change entirely?

What elements would you throw out of Raga and what would you keep?

What elements of Raga would you change entirely? (e.g. changing to internal family conflict)

OK. I'd love to hear thoughts on all of this!

[starwikia]

suicide cw

look i have been in this area before mentally. it sucks and i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. but, and this is going to sound callous, but i don’t feel any sympathy for james somerton. even if i hope he’s like. not dead. But thats all the amount of goodwill im willing to give him. The more i think about this really, the more angry i am. 

ngl this entire situation is another example of how white people weaponize their mental illness to avoid consequences. Im seeing it in real time.

this man has a continuous habit of using self-harm as a get-out-of-jail-for-free card. in both of his apologies, he has worded his supposed attempts in ways that were clearly meant to guilt people who displayed his plagiarism and overall horrendous history of racism and misogyny. i say supposed because, while i’m not saying those are lies and this would he such a fucked up thing to lie about that i don’t want to think he has, unfortunately, it’s been proven again and again that his word can’t be trusted, as he’s known to lie to try get out of consequences. Hes a proven liar. him lying about this is actually the best case scenario, because no one should go through this entire situation, wouldnt wish this on anyone, but you can only do this so often before people stop sympathizing with you. is this callous? Yeah, but like. I’m actually fucking angry he cant straight up take no as an answer. that this is how he reacts realizing he cant be one of the Cool Kidz™️ on youtube anymore. he acts like he DESERVES a career, like its not a privilege hes lost due to his own actions.

He lied about apologizing and forgiving people, he lied about giving the money to hbomberguy to give to ppl he ripped off (yknow, instead of doing it himself), he lied about the jessie gender situation and rewrote the narrative to make it so he isnt the bad guy, and hes the victim all along actually!

you can’t tell me that supposed last message of his isn’t meant to be a 13 reasons why esq attempt to deflect the blame “look i’m going to kill myself and it’s all YOUR PEOPLES FAULT for not letting me achieve my DREAM of being filmmaker IN PEACE!!! I just wanted Nick’s (the guy who I have thrown under the bus again and again) portfolio up!! Im just being a good friend dont you all FEEL BAD” he refuses to take ANY ACCOUNTABILITY of any of his actions and he IS STILL trying to shove the blame over to other people again.

it’s also pretty ironic people are like “uhhh well hbomber’s fans harassed him!!!” like hbomber outright told people NOT to HARASS JAMES!!! ALSO acting as if james doesn’t have a very real documented history of STRAIGHT UP sending his fans to harass and threaten smaller creators, more notably women, trans, and bipoc creators. especially after he’s stolen typically very personal anecdotes so he could profit from them. so why can he do it but the second people are like “hey this guys an actual piece of shit.” and he can’t handle it suddenly people are trying to white knight his shit? like no he doesn’t get that. he doesn’t get that at all just because he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions. 

what? were supposed to stay quiet about a man profiting off of other minorities because he wanted to be the spokesman for all gay people? people tried to solve this on a smaller, more private scales for YEARS and he kept doing it. it was clear that the giant public video was the ONLY way to get people to notice. HE WOULDVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH STEALING 87 FUCKING THOUSANDS WORTH OF DOLLARS. HE CANT HANDLE THE FACT HE CANT GET AWAY WITH IT. 

am i supposed to feel bad for the guy who basically threatened a trans woman with the police? i don’t care what anyone says, it’s so fucking obvious that he threatened jessie by implying he was getting the police involved in their conflict. what am i supposed to act like that didn’t happen? are we supposed to pretend like he didn’t glorify nazi’s and outright said that gay people made up a good chunk of the nazis? That he didnt say america joined ww2 bc they were jealous of the NAZIS. WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO FUCKING SAY THAT. but then? He gives women (not even women most of the time, he misgenders nonbinary ppl constantly) shit for writing mlm. are we supposed to act like he doesn’t straight-up sees himself superior and better than people of color and steals their works to put himself on a pedestal? Are we supposed to act like he didnt spit on our elders by saying “only the boring gays survived aids” like man! Fuck you! He BLANTANTLY MAKES UP HISTORY TO PUT HIMSELF ON A PEDESTAL!! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO REWRITE LGBT HISTORY TO SUIT HIS FUCKED UP NARRATIVES!

yes this sucks ! no one deserves this but no one should be making him a martyr. Thats what he fucking WANTS! He wants to be immortalized as a victim!! (again, supposedly, it was reported hes alive but its not confirmed).

The shit he got isnt near the amount of fucking callous behavior hes done again and again. Again, to drill this point, EVEN IF HE DIDNT CALL THE POLICE HE THREATENED A TRANS WOMAN INTO THINKING HE DID!!! The fact he tried to use a head injury to justify years of the outright ghoulish shit fucking astounds me. Why the fuck did anyone in his life thought it was a good idea to let him TRY to come back. in the end, he had options. he didn’t need to try to make a comeback. HE DIDNT NEED TO FUCKING LIE OR IGNORE THE SHIT HE WAS CALLED OUT ON the reality is, he wanted to come back thinking he could shove it under the rug, was told that no dude, you’re not allowed to be a youtuber anymore. you’re done. you need to move on and went full nuclear. it’s not on anyone’s hands but his own. HES BEEN DOING THIS TO HIMSELF!! But nah man we cant call his shit out bc hell may or may not kill himself. Fuck the other minorities who have the same issues but worse and sometimes BECAUSE of him. This is going to SUCKKKK so bad when other ppl, specifically white gays, are going to weaponize this shit to get away with their stuff.

[eerna]

Omg the way Eloise is written as a feminist character BOTHERS me. I can’t always put my finger on why, but a thing that sticks out to me the most is how she just says the most blatantly basic (for us 21st century viewers) things and idk it’s supposed to seem revolutionary… but it’s never clever. And it is never deep.

Anyways I saw your tag on the Eloise/Cressida post and I was curious to hear any elaboration of your thoughts on her feminist portrayal? (But no pressure!)

YEEAAAH EXACTLY! I have the same issue, Eloise just says 21st century equality stuff without ever having read a single feminist pamphlet (this is canon, she doesn't start reading them or attending discussions until she's 18). Somehow she developed a perfectly uniform idea of modern womanhood when she was isolated and raised to be a traditional lady. Her opinions should be WAY more half baked and full of holes because this life is the only one she'd ever known. That's not even mentioning the inability to discuss feminism without discussing class, something Eloise has No Idea About.

Then comes the issue of writing. This is a stupid show. No one looks smart on this show. So when Eloise drops a "smart comment", it is cringe and dumb. She is supposed to be eloquent and witty, but most of the time she looks like a mean snob belittling everyone around her.

Another issue is that everyone else around her is a horrible sexist caricature. Yes, she is snobby, but my god every other woman only cares about men and marriage and gossip so I can't even blame her all that much for it. Her friends don't really care about what she has to say and will always leave her to go chase a man. And even SHE starts fitting the description the moment she falls for a guy - she lies to her friend and puts everyone in danger, and 90% of the reason is a man with only 10% being her self actualization. You can't write a proper feminist if everyone in your story has the same goal, which is to find a husband. It doesn't help that we know Eloise is headed for marriage and babies because every time a character expresses they don't want one or both of those things, they are proven wrong by the narrative.

And finally, my last thing making Eloise a bad feminist character, is that she is SO PASSIVE. Sure, it might be the point of the show as Pen calls her out for it, but we still don't know if they are gonna fix it so I am putting it here anyway. She only talks and complains about her lot in life, but never acts against society. I was happy when she started sneaking out and hang out with The Working Class Feminists TM, but that turned out to be a short failed romance subplot instead of a character moment and she gave up on it almost right away, so it doesn't count. And now in s3 she decided to embrace society and its expectations, so I am not sure we will ever get to see that kind of rebellion again - I sure hope so! But idk.

As a "well written Eloise" character, I'd like to suggest Felicity Montague. She is a character from a 18th century romcom, a noble lady, aroace and trying to go to med school when her gender prevents her from getting an education. She doesn't use her screentime for long-winded monologues about the unfairness of the world, she ACTS on her thoughts and opinions so we know what they are. She switches covers of romance books and textbooks so she can study without being bothered, she runs away from home to try make her dreams come true, she finds alternative solutions. Her thoughts are never lauded as One Truth, in fact she is often called out for the blind spots in her opinions since she too grew up a sheltered noble and can't account for all experiences. She is surrounded by women who challenge her ideas and make her into a better friend and person. AND she is funny and reading her is just plain fun. You CAN do a feminist who doesn't belong in her era, you just have to be careful to also make her a good character.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Heeyyy my first time requesting I read all your works I just wanna say it’s absolutely Amazing 🤩 but I’m here to request hawks x chubby black reader (if you don’t write for him I’m so sorry 😞)

Hopefully you can make it like “smile for the camera” except hawks is like “😳” when he first meets the reader but reader doesn’t like the way he’s staring at her and thinks he’s judging her (but really he’s not he just luvs the reader)

I’ll let you do the rest yourself

Again if you don’t write for hawks then it’s fine ignore the request😁

Stay safe,drink water,and luv yourself😘

As Beautiful as Moonlight (Hawks x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Keigo "Hawks" Takami x Black!Chubby!Fem!Reader (Strangers to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which Hawks tries to show you that you are more than just a conquest and that his stares aren't because he's judging you. They're because he is dying to make you his.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; Chubby!Reader; Black-coded!Reader; Fem!Reader; Sexual Tension; Some Alcohol & Drug (Nothing crazy lol just weed); Flirting; Mutual Oral (Giving & Receiving); 69ing; Missionary; Doggysyle; Sex in the Mirror; Overstimulation; Sloppy Tongue Kissing; Mutual O; Snuggling

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I told you I gotchu! I’m so, so sorry this is so late, anon, but I didn’t want to make you wait any longer for this request. I’ve been so busy with commissions, getting ready for my summer job, AND classes, but this is the least I can do for you. I hope you like it! Thank you so much for the love 🫶🏾🫶🏾 -Jazz

********

“What are you lookin’ at?” 

Hawks blinks once, coming out of the trance you put him in for about five minutes now…which is as long as he’s been staring at you like a weirdo. Or a dumbass, in his case, anyway. 

He can’t blame you for giving him the evil eye as you sit together at the bar while the rest of your mutual friends yack it up over shots and the music playing from overhead. “Huh?” he dumbly asks, his mind having gone to mush in the five minutes he was staring at you. 

“I said,” you pointedly repeat, “what are you looking at?” Your hand with your pretty nails wraps around your cocktail glass. Hawks imagines it somewhere else on his body. 

“Uh…nothing,” he decides. “Just…” He tries to think quick, hating that he took a hit of a blunt before coming here and downed those two tequila shots before Mirko showed up with you as her work friend. 

He isn’t usually like this: so clueless and all fumbly. He is known for his charm and flirtation when it comes to pretty women. You are no different. You’re about the prettiest thing in the bar in your red dress that makes your skin seem so vibrant and wraps around your body. 

The fact that you’re a big girl makes no difference to him. He loves how your stomach rolls as you sit down; how your thick, soft thighs squish on the stool you sit on; how you have such an adorable softness to your cheeks. Hawks has never cared about the size of a woman. If he thinks you’re attractive, he’s going to try his luck to scoop you up! 

But he’s also never had a woman give him such trouble and a cold welcome like you are now. “You were just starin’ at me because…why?” you pointedly ask, squinting at him, your long lashes framing your pretty, brown eyes. “I know this dress is tight, but you don’t have to stare.” 

Hawks simply laughs, pulling the collar of his Armani button-down. “Well, you ain’t really givin’ me a choice in the matter,” he jokes. You scowl at him, earning a sheepish shrug from him. “But since you asked, I’m only starin’ because you’re the most beautiful thing in here.” 

He watches as his words process in your head and registers on your gorgeous face. You look shocked at him uttering such words to you, but then that wall that he sees built up around you comes back, shielding you for whatever reason. “Right,” you scoff. “I think those shots have gone to your head…or you’re just tryna fuck.” 

You turn away slightly, wrapping your soft, glossy lips around the straw in your glass. Hawks stares, unabashed in his attraction to you, his cock stirring impatiently in his jeans. “Well, I mean, if you’re offering…” 

You look back at him with a hard stare that would’ve left him dead if looks could kill. “C’mon!” he laughs. “Can you blame a man for bein’ attracted to a pretty woman such as yourself? Why the pushback?” 

He isn’t trying to sleep with you! He just wants to know why you’re so goddamn cold. Is it truly impossible for you to believe that a guy can be interested in getting to know you without having grimy ulterior motives? 

You turn to him now, eyes still sharp and indifferent. “Because I know guys like you,” you huff. “You butter me up with your flirting, fuck me for the night, and then never call again. You are a bachelor, after all.” 

Hawks states at you, his body becoming hot from such harsh words. “Now why in the hell would I do that?” he asks, honestly offended by such an assumption. 

You blink at him, wondering if he’s serious. “Because I’m…” You motion over your body. “Fat. Chubby. Chunky. Whatever the fuck you wanna call me. I know I’m pretty, but guys like you don’t date girls like me.” 

You chuckle to yourself, but it’s an empty laugh. Hawks can tell, especially with the way you look at Mirko who is so muscular and toned. She doesn’t have to worry about people judging her, flaunting her body in her skin-tight dress on the dancefloor. He hates to see it, so he does his best to stop it. 

“Y/N,” he says, using your name since the first time he met you. It catches your attention immediately. “I don’t want you for a one-night stand. But would I want the chance to touch that body in the privacy of a bedroom? Hell yes!” 

You flush at his boldness, looking away from his intense, golden eyes. “But believe it or not, I was thinking more on the “taking you to dinner and getting to know you” side, if you’re okay with that.” He searches your face for a possible yes, but all he sees is your eyes looking away from him even though your body is still turned his way. You seem like you want to say yes, but something is holding you back. 

Hawks withers, disappointed, but he won’t push it. “I guess not,” he sighs. “Well, it was worth trying anyway. I’m gonna go get some air.” He gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before getting up from his stool and leaving you be. 

He carefully meanders through the throng of pro heroes and regular club-hoppers with his ruby-red wings though people make way for him anyway. He walks to one of the exits and leaves the club’s hot, sticky atmosphere for the cool early-summer air in the alleyway. 

He immediately digs into his pocket for his cigarettes, having toned down on nicotine a long time ago, but he still carries them around for stressful or disappointing situations. But as he sticks one of the cigs in his mouth and goes for his lighter, he stops and turns. 

There you stand in the doorway, silhouetted by the lights behind you like some curvy, plump angel wrapped in a delectable red dress. “I didn’t know you smoke,” you say, nodding at the cig hanging out of his mouth. 

He takes it out from between his lips, chuckling. “Yeah,” he sighs. “You ain’t gon’ tell on me, are you?” You shake your head and slowly walk out into the alley with him. You take something from behind your back: a glass of water with lemon. “I got you some club soda.” 

Hawks takes the water, confused at the offer. “So you came out here to keep me company?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You look down at your strappy sandals with your cute, pink-painted toes hanging out of them. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to people looking at me without judging me or with lust. I guess I just thought you weren’t serious.” 

Hawks nods as he sips the water, his thirst quenched. “I can understand what it feels like to be judged and lusted after.” You stare at him, your eyes as big as the full moon hanging above you. “Really?” you ask, slightly breathless. 

He nods wordlessly. Having made mistakes as a pro, people judge him. Having slept around and graced magazine covers, people lust for him. He can’t remember the last time someone really wanted him for just him and looked at him with kindness. 

“I can’t say that I know exactly how you feel though,” he apologetically says. “I’m sorry you’ve ever felt that way and the need to protect yourself from others who can’t see beyond your body.” 

You seem to know that he means that because you take his glass and drink from it, attaching your lips to the same spot his were on. He watches, his need for you rising. You stare at him over the rim of the glass, your eyes hooded and saying things to him that match his teak and his intentions. “I think I’ll take you up on that dinner date, Hawks,” you say, a slight giggle in your tone. “If you give me a dance.” 

You give him a bashful, crooked smile that lights his damn heart on fire. He nods, too afraid to ruin his with his words, and you take his hand in yours, leading him back into the club. 

Several drinks, convos, and a dance later that gives him a boner because of how close you are to him, your back pushed up against his front and his hands on your hips, you and Hawks finally get to dance in private hours later when you leave together, much to Mirko’s astonishment. 

“Wow, you managed to get her, Hawks?” the Bunny hero gasped while he led you into an Uber. “Damn, you must’ve put a spell on her! I was sure she’d send you packing!” She pulls him close by the elbow and lowers her voice, intimidatingly so. “Just take care of her, understand?” she asks, giving him a stare that would make any man piss his pants. Hawks only nods, promising you mutual friend. 

And “taking care of you” he absolutely does. The man makes you cum four times throughout the night at his luxurious penthouse: 

The fits time on his couch, coaxing you to bend over and let him massage and spank your plump, soft, jiggly ass that he swears his heaven sent as he plunges his tongue into the velvety, wet walls of your pussy while you moan and toss your behind back into his mouth much to his enjoyment. 

The second time is in his bed, your legs pinned down onto the mattress while he tails you, his cock plunging in and out of you and his wings wrapped around you, allowing you to feel safe and comfortable while he dicks you down and makes you gush all over his cock, feeling fetal at the sight of your tummy and tits jiggling, causing him to fill you up. 

The third time is when his dick is down your throat and wrapped in your pretty lips while his face is once again buried between your asscheeks, his tongue in your cunt, hungrily lapping at your folds and making you cum again, your moans muffled from his dick lodged in your throat while your delectable pussy spasms in his mouth. 

And the fourth and last time (because you physically can’t take another orgasm) is when you’re getting bent over and fucked from behind by Hawks in front of his full-length mirror. His hands hold your hips while his wings wrap around you, physically holding you up because your legs are too weak. 

Your hands grip his arms as he pounds into you from the back, creating lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your clir, his firm thighs meeting your asscheeks, and the squelching of his cock plunging deep in your pussy as he fucks you like there is no tomorrow. “F-Fuck, Hawks, right there!” you sob. “Oooh, yes, right there!” 

He watches your pretty face contort in pleasure in the mirror, loving how soft you feel pressed against him and how you sound moaning from your soft lips that he’s been kissing all night. “Keigo,” he huffs in your ear. “Call me ‘Keigo’, baby. I don’t wanna be just Hawks with you tonight.” 

You nod, moving your hand between your thick thighs to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. “Keigo,” you moan. “You’re so fucking good at this!” He smiles, becoming cocky at seeing you lose your mind on his dick. “Yeah?” he teasingly asks. “You love gettin’ this pretty pussy fucked by a pro, don’t you?” 

You only moan and whine in response, but that isn’t good enough for a gluttonous whore like Hawks. 

SMACK! The sharp sound of his hand connecting with your asscheek makes you moan and your pussy tighten around him. “That was a question, baby bird,” he whispers, teasingly sucking on your earlobe. 

“Yes!” you gasp, the sensations too much. “Yes, I love it! I love it s-so, so much!” 

“You’te not to bad yourself, y’know, datlin’,” he moans. “You’re body is so fuckin’ perfect!” He grips one of your juicy tits as he pounds into you faster, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Look at you,” he demands. “Look in the fuckin’ mirror. Look at that pretty face and perfect body gettin’ fucked.” 

You do as he says, looking into his mirror as he fucks you, bringing you closer and closer to your end. “Oh, God, I can’t!” you lament. “I can’t…K-Keigo, I’m gonna! I’m gonna!” You can’t even finish your sentence because of the pleasure, your lips quivering just like your pussy is around Hawks’ thick cock. 

“You gonna…gonna what, baby bird?” he chuckles. “You wanna cum for me again?” You pathetically nod, making him cackle. “God, you’re insatiable!” Bur so is he. He would fuck you all night if he could, but even pros have a breaking point. This second orgasm is going to flood you, he promises. 

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he begs into your ear, slamming into you harder as you rub your clit. “I’m close too. Rub that little pussy and fuckin’ give it to me, baby!” 

It doesn’t take long for him to blow his load inside of you, flooding you with cum that drips down your thighs. His moans and orgasm rigger you, causing your pussy to quiver and flutter around him as you cum. A string of moans of his name and swears leave your lips as you cum, coating his cock in your sticky juices. You wrap your arm around his neck, bringing him into the crook of his neck, connecting you both to this moment of bliss. 

“Kiss me,” he demands. You turn your head and do so, your tongues swirling and lips sucking, creating a very messy, sloppy kiss that makes his orgasm feel that much better. 

When the amazing feeling finally fades and you come down from your high, Hawks gently pulls out of you, making your pussy spurt out his cum. The sight nearly makes him hard again. “You’ve made a mess on me, baby girl,” he pants. He motions to his cock shining in your cum. 

You turn around, your body illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through his balcony window. “I’m sorry, sit,” you giggle, looking up at him through your long lashes. “I’ll clean you right up, I promise.” 

You then get on your knees and begin to slurp his clean, your tongue tunning over his shaft and balls. He moans and whimpets at the sensations, biting his lip.

“M’s-sensitive,” he hisses. Though to see you be such a little cockslut for him after being so closed off and cold is a treat indeed. Perhaps it takes the right person to bring that side out of you. Hawks wants to think that this person is him. 

When you finally finish, you give him a cute little smile, your brown eyes sparkling. “We need to lie down,” he states and you nod, agreeing. He helps you up and scoops you up before flapping over to his bed. He lays you down on the silk sheets first before lying down beside you. 

Both of you lay on your side facing each other, his hand on your hip and yours on his chest. “That was really, really nice, H–um, Keigo,” you softly say into the quiet, dimly lit bedroom. “Thank you.” 

He smiles, filled with butterflies at the sound of you using his real name. “It was my pleasure,” he sighs. “Thank you for giving me a chance. So what do you prefer? A steak dinner or Hibachi?” 

You giggle and press a kiss to his lips as you lay next to him, as beautiful as the silvery moonlight lighting the bedroom.

THE END.

[exhaustedauthorarc]

Caitlyn Kiramann was Always a Fucboi: A Factual Account

Hey, the discourse around Caitlyn’s supposedly fast move on from Vi to Maddie has made me realize something. That yall didn’t realize that Caitlyn was, is and always has been a fucboi so welcome to my Ted Talk, lemme break it down.

Exhibit 1 A: When Cait comes home through her bedroom window her mother and father hear her and rush upstairs, her mother fully armed, then they see their daughter with a woman in her arms and breathe an almost exasperated sigh of relief. Cassandra says Cait “found a stray”. Why would she see her grown, police officer daughter come home through the window with a whole nother person and just call them a stray unless they are used to it happening a lot?

Exhibit 1B: Later when Caitlyn explains what’s going on Cassandra tells Caitlyn, “You and your… friend can address the council yourselves”. Why the pause and dismissive hand wave at the word friend? Well Caitlyn had already expressed incredulity at Vi being referred to as a stray and Cassandra is a well bred high society woman. And what do such women do when trying to say something crass delicately? They pause to find an appropriate word. If she meant friend she would have said friend, that’s not a hard one to find, but what do you do if you know your daughter brings home girls on the regular to hit it and quit it? Well you can’t say slut, or whore or fuckbuddy, so you say friend. Same thing happens down here in the south when old southern folks are tiptoeing around being crass (source: Lived in Louisiana and Georgia).

Exhibit 2A: Okay so maybe this slipped by yall, Imma break it down. Caitlyn went to Stillwater under the false pretense of working for her friend and newly appointed council member, Jayce, to talk to a Silco goon that turned out to be unable to speak. The reason being injuries sustained from a seemingly unprovoked attack from another prisoner. A prisoner who was such a problem she existed in the very bowls of the prison. Now we know Vi and what she didn’t do but Caitlyn doesn’t and Vi tells her nothing, in fact Vi doesn’t even tell her why she attacked the guy Cait came to see. This person could be Hannibal Lecter for all she knows and since she believes so much in the criminal system it would behoove her to think that whatever this woman did was worth locking up and throwing away the key. But she makes a deal, breaks her out and takes her to the undercity, a place this mystery prisoner knows better than Caitlyn ever can. Then they go into a whorehouse and Vi gives her the slip, now I don’t cite that as the evidence, but if you combine the knowledge that there is a – for all she knows- Jeffrey Dahmer clone walking around on her, and subsequently Jacyce’s, orders what does she do when she realizes she’s been given the slip? Something that may well have dire consequences for herself, her closest friend and innocents walking the street? She gets distracted by a pretty lady in a skimpy outfit.

 Exhibit 2B: Next we need to note what actually happened in that brief moment between her and the girl. First we see Caitlyn has the mask customers can use to hide their face, but clearly she wants her face seen cause it’s in her lap, she and her family are prominent so this is clearly a part of the Kiramann ‘Do You Know Who My Family Is’ Rizz package. Next let’s consider the dialogue, the woman with her is saying “I’ve only ever imagined the gardens. This is all I’ve seen.” meaning Caitlyn was talking, likely bragging, about having been to some rather spectacular gardens to impress this chick. Tack onto that she, a by all accounts very observant detective, lets what could likely be a reincarnation of the Unibomber wearing red with bright pink hair walk directly in front of her, pause and walk away. All while doing the modern day equivalent of spinning her car keys in her hands and asking a girl “Hey, ever driven in a Lambo?”

Ladies and Gentlemen Caitlyn Kiramann has always been a chronic fucboi, I rest my case.

[tetitous]

Okay, Yugo and queerness in Wakfu, part 2

Part 1 , for those who may have missed it

Are we back? We good? Okay then let’s talk about Yugo’s crushes, oki?

Yugo’s attraction: beyond Amalia:

This section has proven to be a little harder to write, because I wasn't certain on where to start.

Well let's start with the obvious: Yugo is attracted to women, he even married one.

But attraction to one gender doesn't mean the absence of attraction to another, and it doesn't necessarily mean that you're alloromantic/sexual (allo- being the prefix for the normalized sense of attraction, like cis- for gender), it all exists within a wide spectrum, after all.

Since I want to discuss the ways in which Yugo is queer, but I don't really care to assign to him any specific labels, I am going with elements that seems to indicate queerness in degrees of attraction, and towards whom that attraction is directed. I also decided to add moments that can be read into a homoerotic context but don't necessarily reflect Yugo's feelings on the matter, because these kind of scenes turn into grounds for shipping a lot of the time, and my goal is also to prove that shippers do have grounds for pairing Yugo with characters that aren't Amalia, or even girls for that matter.

Yugo’s relationship with romance and sexuality:

It’s actually not that easy to tell when Yugo is crushing on someone. One part of that may be that his dysphoria actually blocked his own ability to be certain of the way he feels about others, so bothered that he was with himself. But also, in the first 2 seasons Yugo is still a very young tween. Romantic attraction may happen, but if puberty hasn’t kicked in yet? Physical attraction won’t hit as hard.

Yugo struggled with his feelings for Amalia partially because of these 2 facts, plus the fact he has known her and felt that way about her for so long he might not even have had an “oh” moment.

“I’m not sure if it’s love.” about his s3 drama with Amalia

If you decide to take into account an aroace or bi reading, his lack of certainty makes even more sense: how can you tell you are attracted to someone when you don’t feel attraction in a conventional way, or when societal expectations tell you you should only feel that way for one type of people but not another?

Another good point towards Yugo not quite getting attraction as a kid, in s2ep12 he gets told about the story between Kriss la Krass and Maud, the “Masked Boufbowler”, and while Amalia and even Tristepin quickly identify this as a love story, he says this:

“Whoa Kriss! Without knowing it you were the best friend of Brakmar’s best Boufbowler, that’s so cool!”

So either Yugo just doesn’t understand romance at that point, or he thinks wanting to kiss your bestie is a very normal activity. If at this point he already considers his best friend to be Amalia, well, huh, and if he considers The Brotherhood of the Tofu as his best friends, well, huh.

And it’s not just hard to tell for him, it can be hard to tell for us too.

Here’s a thing you may think is an obvious sign of attraction for Yugo: blushing.

“You’re very brave. And also… very pretty.”

See, that face for example? Obviously a sign of attraction right? He’s looking at a pretty girl and complimenting her because he finds her “very pretty”. But we know for a fact he also blushes a lot when he’s embarrassed.

In s2ep14, he doesn’t just blush because a pretty girl is hitting on him, he looks towards Pinpin and Ruel smiling mockingly at him before pulling that face.

Everyone being embarrassed because a whole bar of pirates is laughing at them in s2ep19.

What’s more, this is the hardest he’s ever blushed in anime when looking at Amalia:

That… isn’t a lot. (And yes, if you have read the manga, he blushes harder in those, but the artistic decisions changed a lot depending on the format because the artist can draw the characters kind of however they want once they leave the format of animation, so I can’t really take it into account for this)

Therefore, I think Yugo doesn’t need to blush at someone to be attracted to them. But his eyes twinkling, which happens in almost all of his previously shown crush moments but are only visible in movement, may be of help for our queer reading later on, though it is more closely associated to strong emotions than romantic feelings.

To finish that take, I’ll remind everyone Yugo can only qualify as a young adult by the time of the OVAs, and while his feelings on the matter of romance are still ambivalent, by that point Yugo is at least sexually aware, or at least partially, because on one hand he doesn’t seem to care that much about pushing on Amalia’s butt to help her get out,

The literal face of innocence, genuinely just wanted to help.

on another, this is his reaction after carrying her bridal-style:

Yes. What’s under the hat is again used like a “what’s in your pants” comment. Sorry if this is a bit uncomfortable, I get it.

part 3

[somethinginworl]

He would not fucking say that - Kirby franchise edition (Results)

Well! Seems like a lot of people had a lot to say about mischaracterized Kirby characters, as a matter of fact, there were a whooping 57 entries! Well, let’s get going with them, shall we? Just,,, beware that this is a LOOONG post.

Haltmann

The dude 100% did fucked up shit and needs to be held accountable but people seem to so easily forget the degree he was influenced/corrupted by Star Dream. I don't understand why people hate Haltmann and love Star Dream who is arguably the actual reason HWC started colonizing and draining planets. Also the fact that Haltmann isn't conventionally attractive to the majority of the fandom makes him less sympathetic ig?? But the dude is a grieving father who made mistakes that sent him down a spiral into being corrupted and then deleted by a heartless machine. I can't help but pity him

Prince Fluff

Go on ao3. Look in his tag on tumblr. He exists only to be Kirby or Shadow Kirby's love interest most of the time, with no personality of his own.

He barely gets recognized anymore, and if he does, it's usually as a ship Prince Fluff was a big part of my childhood, with Epic Yarn being my first game. To me, he was Kirby's fellow main character, and they had a cool sibling/best friend relationship. But now, a lot of what I see of him is just . . . Kirfluff. Which is cool and all, but man's a prince! He can do more than be a boyfriend! Heck, he runs an entire kingdom by himself! One thing that I want to see more of is Fluff as a stressed but caring ruler, not just a sidekick/boyfriend to the pink puff. Give yarn boy his deserved appreciation!.

Dark Meta Knight

Hello! I am here to spread the good word of a character with no personality. It's the mirror thing. Of course.  Dark Meta Knight has No Personality. Zero. Nada. Zilch. He's Meta Knight but Dark. What does that mean? Your guess. He fights Meta Knight. And wins lmao skill issue blueboy. And fights Kirby. And loses a few times, which isn't surprising. He was dumb enough to split Kirby in four, though. Four times the Kirby is four times the amount your ass is grass. You're practically a forest at that point because you're so grass. So he's violent and has no personality outside of being violent. Woo! Triple Deluxe has him attack Dedede in Dededetour inside the Mirror. This has led people to think he fucked over Sectonia. This makes my heart bleed as much as Taranza probably did when he was punted off of Royal Road via Fuck You Lightning Ball. My man just has no sense of timing,,,, They just wanted to include a Meta Knight battle because Knight Battles are a Kirby standard at this point,,, You think a man that stupid can figure out how to take advantage of a woman's insecurity? I don't even know if he knows women exist. How many female Amazing Mirror characters are there??? Boxy??? Moley mentions having a wife once and Dameta doesn't know what he means. But other than being driven to immense violence and being scapegoated for the stuff his boss probably did, Dameta has other hobbies! Like whatever his motivation in Star Allies is. Something dastardly, I'm sure. People really like to pretend he's not part of the Star Ally club when my man is doodling with toddlers and posing with his less cool less edgy self. Would a villain have a silly little we heart kirby statue? No, didn't think so. Also I cannot imagine him as a dad to Shadkirby either. Do they even interact? I've seen both "Amazing dad" and "Outright abusive" as interpretations and I can't go with either. But I think that's because I don't enjoy Metadad that much. They're like awkward coworkers. He thinks they're student and mentor. They're not even that. Dameta barely knows Shadow exists.

Dark Meta Knight is very popularly characterized as like an abusive parent, usually physically abusive. Mainly to Shadow Kirby, of course. He's an asshole, yeah, but not THAT bad, christ. I've seen multiple fics where Shadow Kirby is some poor little hey what t the fuck hes fighting himself. um. Back to being a hater.

Shadow Kirby

Some folks still think he's shy/cowardly like from the Amazing Mirror Days. Not really true anymore. From what fans have seen from the ending of the game, he does protect the Mirror World. As for the spin off games that include him, he's pretty tough and even creates mischief sometimes.

Shadow Kirby is constantly treated as an "evil" Kirby. Especially bad after Fighters and fighters two. Not to mention "Parallel Kirby". There's also a strangely common trend of making them more sapient than pink Kirby, who tends to be infantilised to hell and back. Shadow Kirby also is often treated as a complete coward who can't do anything right, when they aren't called evil.

He's shown as completely different in several different occasions, not only in personality but in design I like shadow kirby he's purple and then he's not

Dark Taranza

Dark Taranza, gonna be honest what little characterization people give him are actually okay compared to the rest. But I'm still a hater and hang on im watching jerma clips. okay. He's like Sectonia if Sectonia was Taranza if that makes sense.

Shadow Dedede

Shadow Dedede barely gets shit but I'm going to be a little hater anyways. I don't like most characterizations. I see people make him like a dictator like bro he's literally just some guy.

Sectonia

have you seen how often people say that  sectonia and taranza were boyfriend and girlfriend in canon?????? they were never!!! shes the gosh dang final boss but shes only ever used to give taranza angst. she is her own person with a personality!!!! yes their backstories are interconnected but gosh!!!!

This not too prominent but I can't stand it when people portray her as an uwu shy girl pre-corruption. While she gave in her worst aspects, she was probably always a kind of vain, girlboss! I mean she knows how to fight with rapiers c'mon!!!

idk it just feels like lots of people just see her as Taranza's tragic dead wife and like nothing else you know? like she is more than that and I feel like what little content we have of her proves that (like the soul boss descriptions (especially the original japanese text of the 2nd phase!!) and the eternal dream song) - or maybe im reading too much into those because im hyperfixating on my blorbo whoops

Kine

I'm not sure how true this opinion is considering how little people talk about Kine, I feel this is partially the anime's fault, or maybe its because of how he just looks, but Kine is cool and is not some stupid loser fish. Before the days of Crystal Shards, Him, Kirby, Rick & Coo were the dream team at the time, always hanging out going, with various activities long before the days of Meta Knight or even Dedede. Kine is an awesome aquatic rep for the Kirby series not to mention drinking and being a pirate and Kine even has a Wife! Kine has got it! I guess this is a partial compliant of Ship of Theseus which can be applied with Rick & Coo too, but I feel Kine gets the most hate if any because of people who are unfamiliar just see a dopey fish and are unaware of his origins and his past with Kirby. I'm not upset with the current representation of the Kirby cast (I love the RTDL team being the main crew) but I do hope the animal buddies get some more love, Especially Kine.

Dedede

reduced to his significantly less in-depth and compelling characterization from the anime

Anime Dedede.

Magolor

one time i read a series of fanfictions where he called every female character in the story a bitch and was portrayed as the good guy in the story

Is it possible to both be flanderized and woobified at the same time? There is a lot of "removing his responsibility for his actions" but can we get better jokes than "hehe Microtransgolor hehe scammer egg”

Always an uwu soft boy. Like no that is a criminal not a catboy.

Bro would never be intimidated by Magolor

Marx

People either portray him as a edgy sociopath or constantly bored and annoyed. Portraying him as an adult or a teen kinda annoys me as well. I'm very picky about portrayals of Marx so don't get upset if you portray him as one of these I've listed.

Sometimes I see people only joking about the "hungry so he came along" thing with Marx and it's pretty overdone

They took one look at him and said “to the insane asylum bitch”. I don’t think he��s some crazy murder hobo rather a dude with questionable morals and puts his own mischief and fun before others it seems. Though Marx is indeed one of the least “character” characters when I mean he doesn’t have much depth in comparison to other characters. But you could do anything else than have him follow the Jevil path of him being crazy. Make him evil? Sure. Make him a cringefail idiot? Sure. Make him a crybaby bitch? Go ahead. But making him the definition of what a 14 year old white girl in New Jersey that probably is addicted to Instagram and thinks Webtoon comics are the highest level of art and storytelling’s definition of insane doesn’t cut it cuz. Slapping the spaz label without a thought of what’s being done on a character who fits the mark makes the Schizoid peeved who coulda known. As this is all coming from the one person who has likely ruined Marx’s character the most for Kirblur by making him a somewhat empathetic manchild who clings to both pipe dreams of normality and being a monster btw. (Also this doesn’t mean jokes, you can joke about him being a psycho like Jerma it’s when it’s taken 100% seriously is when it’s bad).    Also to add on, Woobification of Marx or any Kirby character period CAN be annoying if taken too far. I take full responsibility in the fact my variant is also woobifed to an extent but that train full of ticking bombs doesn’t bother me as much. Make him sadcry and be gay he deserves both those things. Send him to sad hell with the rest of them.

To the anon above... What?

Making him stupid or reducing him to just Silly Clown. Or just having him act in purely impulsive or spontaneous ways (which sometimes happens when juxtaposed with a more "collected" character like Magolor).

Daroach

this is something i’ve noticed specifically in chatfics, but when daroach is in the ensemble some of them tend to designate him as the Goofy Meme Dumbass for… idk, fandom quota? i really don’t know why it happens because he has a bunch of canon dialogue (and alternate continuity stuff like the novels) that show him to be cool and clever. i’m not saying he can’t have a sense of humor or anything (he’s definitely the type to have a bunch of quips), but it sucks when he’s mischaracterized because the fandom doesn’t give him that much attention as is. if you NEED a silly haha guy, marx is right there!”

Morpho Knight

"Morpho Knight is a creature of mercy. It's a benevolent entity putting tired souls to rest." NO?! I'm going to copy-paste some stuff I put in a post of my own. A while back, SYZekrom on Reddit translated Morpho Knight's entry, and it contains some... interesting information. Allow me to provide some excerpts. "He’s a red knight with butterfly wings, continuing from a pair of white wings like an angel’s, and a pair of azure wings with a bit of an evil feel." This is the first of two instances where Morpho Knight is outright stated to be evil. There's also stuff in the art book that supports my theory that Galacta and Morpho are permanently fused and the former is not dead, but I don't want to get carried away. These are its gacha figure descriptions in Forgotten Land: "The fluttering fiend that casts judgment upon final battles is drawn toward the isolated isles of Forgo Dreams. There, it feasts on the most powerful soul it finds and takes the fearsome form of a scarlet-clad knight… Let the most challenging battle of this new world begin!" –English "One of the dreaming birds, which are said to pass judgement upon decisive battles, drifts towards a forgotten, isolated isle as if summoned. There, it sips upon the strongest Soul and descends as a red knight. Finally, welcome the dusk… of the deadliest battle in this New World!"  –Japanese While at first glance there doesn't seem to be any information of note, the "fluttering fiend" bit in the English version is outright stating Morpho Knight is evil, and the phrase "he deadliest battle in this New World" doesn't sound particularly heroic. But I digress... Morpho is NOT a good person! This is clearly leading up to a villain vs hero confrontation! Which, may I add, implies that reaping Galacta Knight wasn't necessarily a good thing for it to do?!

Elfilis

elfilis is NOT entirely malicious. they would gladly accept hugs and kisses. being in a fucking capsule ALONE and AWARE for likely CENTURIES will DO SOMETHING TO YOU YOU KNOW?? god fucking DAMN dude... and after the ending of the true arena in the game, WILLINGLY GAVE THEMSELF UP TO ELFILIN. also they're not fucking DEAD you PSYCHOPAYHS elfilis is STILL VERY MUCH ALIVE!!!!!!! RUUAAAGGGH!!!!!!!!!!

Susie

Being Evil or being a Sad uwu girl who has had bad things happen to her seems to be the only way most people can portray this character.

Susie isn't a friend. She's selfish and wanted to take over the company. Her "redemption" is pointing Kirby at the world-ending machine, gives him armor, and then stands around. She doesn't even know his name. The closest she does for good is tell Kirby to do something he would've done on his own.

My girl really became the subject of hate thanks to a mistranslation. I mean yeah she likes robots and shit but the fact that people think she is a terrible person and that she's still colonizing planets makes me upset. i blame the translation team for everything.

When people say she has fully redeemed herself and is reduced to cishet, pretty girl??? Like no, star allies mistranslation my ass you fell for her corporate propaganda. The female characters in this franchise, while lovable, is not nearly as popular as a lot of the male ones. HAL literally gave us a morally grey girlboss who we can still sympathise with. She actually feels like a very real character in this fictional world.

You Know How People Are About Her

she's not even my blorbo!!!!!! everyone thinks she's a huge evil bitch who has done terrible genuinely unspeakable things. i read a fic that went on and on abt the horrible things she "did" to meta knight when he was mechanized (things so bad i cant even say) and i was pulling my hair out she did not fucking do any of that!!!! yes the universe can have pretty dark moments but good lord people only use her to woobify meta knight and give fuel to ship him with others and it pisses me off lol. or people go too far the other way and woobify HER to ship with him and aughhhh no one has a shred of media literacy. she's not purely good or purely evil she's such a complex character who did bad things because she was in a bad situation and the best example of a morally grey character who's on no one's side but herself and that will always be more interesting that 100% good or 100% evil. once again she's not even my blorbo but i've never seen a character butchered this badly by a fandom

Because of mistranslation (from what I've heard) Susie's whole mechanizing planets has been the number one thing when it came to susie hate and the only reason as to why people hate this girl so much. Honestly Susie's character has been fucked up immensely and no one has such a divided spread of opinions like she does. Some people brush away her backstory and make her a soulless being with no love whatsoever.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Susie Haltmann. I cannot with the fandom interpretations anymore. It's ridiculous how bad they've gotten. Susie is a two dimensional character. I absolutely despise seeing people portray her as some sort of greedy capitalist bastard and "the one with the braincell". In canon, she's consistently been portrayed as a sweet person (with a knack for violence, but EVERYONE in this series is like that). Everything bad she did in Planet Robobot was FOR WORK and the will of HER FATHER, and even if she did want to do the things she did, she's clearly not doing them any more. The "mechanizing planets and peoples" line in Star Allies is a mistranslation. And the "punishing savages" doesn't have to mean anything bad. It could mean she's punishing evildoers with her money and resources. In fact, I've seen some translations put it like that And Meta Knight... is just the straw that broke the camel's back. Oh lord. Why does everyone insist that he hates her? There's the little scene in Star Allies... but god, that isn't canon, it's clearly a joke. If anything, Susie might have been trying to talk to him and he was just trying to avoid her in a misinterpretation of the situation. It's supposed to be funny. Why are you imposing this onto people like this automatically makes Susie a devil incarnate and anything involving those two characters in problematic? Just shut up.

Meta Knight

Everyone thinks he’s just the ‘edgy character’ or ‘the uncaring mentor figure’ while in actuality he really does care for Kirby (and Bandana Dee) more than anyone gives him credit for!

Everyone either makes him all broody and lonesome, like shadow the hedgehog or batman; or they make him a goofy dad, like Dedede or Hugh Neutron. In reality, he's a weird uncle with unknown motivations, simultaneously selfish and practical. Also, he doesn't hide the fact that he likes sweets, he eats them away from everyone so no one steals them (Dedede and Squeak Squad).

He's not Kirby's fucking dad! He's an irresponsible uncle that hands out swords! And he is definitely in love with dedede, he is the only other dramatic bitch willing to build a skyscraper to beat up kirby (I am using intense anger for comedic effect) 

HES A FUCKING TWINK ASS FRUITY ASS MOTHERFUCKING CRINGEFAIL MAN. HE NEEDS TO HAVE HIS PERSONALITY INTERPRETED AS BOTH THE MANGA AND THE GAMES. YES HE IS MYSTERIOUS BUT HE ALSO WOULD TRIP AND FALL OVER HIMSELF. I NEED STAR ALLIES KICKING SWORD PISSED. I NEED MANGA ROSES BITCHASS META. I NEED THAT PARTICULAR VERSION OF MY BOY meat knight RIGHT NOW. meta knight is cringefail. half of the fandom agrees the other half does not. im explode.

He wants to look cool so bad but he is actually a huge fucking goofy goober. Any representation of Meta Knight being a badass is propaganda made by Meta Knight himself to convince you he’s cool. I mean have you seen his RTDL Deluxe pause screen description? King Dedede’s and Bandana Dee’s are in first person, but his is in third person? He’s literally talking about himself in the third person like hello????? Meta Knight is such a fucking lame goofy little man who thinks he’s the most badass motherfucker on the planet.

To fair this has been less common lately but back during 2014-2016 MK was usually portrayed in fanart/fanfic as either this wise veteran or cold edgelord. He is just an unhindged!!! Silly!!! Guy!!! He can be cool and cringefail!!! But he is also compassionate in his own aloof, awkward way!!! 

i am not a big fan of the metadede ship. i think people are shipping for the sake of having a ship and nothing else. As someone with a severely underrepresented orientation (aromantic and asexual), when I see a character I like, I will project onto said character. This is the case with my interpretation of Meta Knight. I saw a cool character that I liked who a) doesn’t have any canon love interests and b) didn’t really need a whole ton of friends/significant others to be happy with life. Meta Knight always seemed to be perfectly content with the friends he has on Popstar and his crew and everyone in the anime, so I looked to him for hope that I could live the same way. I was open to the metadede ship at first, but as time passed, I felt less and less comfortable with it. It seemed to me that people were so hungry for gay ships that they just pulled this one out of thin air courtesy of Kirby Fighters 2, which is to my knowledge the only piece of media that somewhat supports this. Why can’t people just be happy with MK and Dedede being friends or frenemies? I’m probably starting drama with this bc I know how popular metadede is on Tumblr so I apologize for upsetting you if that is the case.  But I also feel that I shouldn’t apologize just because I have a different opinion.

I dislike how "pathetic" the fandom has made him out to be. I don't like it when he's portrayed as overpowered but... "pathetic, whiny manlet" could not be further from the truth. How did we get to that?

Kirby

Often people make Kirby more dependent on others than he actually is. He's an extremely independent person that literally cannot be stopped by anyone who tries to get in his way

ik its been covered to death but matpat made that video about how kirby is evil and completely ignored the themes of friendship and kindness that are present throughout the entire series

dude hes not a baby. he drinks in the manga adukt kirbies are a fine interp god. and hes not a godkiller or some shit he just fights for his friends hes not some terrifying monster kirby is literally just some friendly guy. strong yeah but just some guy. he fights strong entities incidentally lol

The anime portrays them as a literal infant, and due to its overprevalence (despite not being in the same stream of canon as the games), this is often their characterization in the fandom.  Canonically, they indeed are a child (at most, they'd probably be a teen in the modern games), but they are old enough to talk, and they demonstrate a high amount of emotional and even technical intelligence.

Admittedly, this is one that usually only happens to people outside the fandom, but it bugs me when people portray Kirby as a sort of immoral monster who only does good things on accident. When it’s quite the opposite! He may not be incredibly bright, but he does his best to help people. Oddly enough, there’s not many cases of “he would not say that” in the fandom for me because of how loose Kirby’s story is. It is lore heavy but the actual characters aren’t super concrete save for a few and I think that’s perfectly fine

People forget that their air bullet!! is an attack!! its literally one of their only ways of dealing damage in DL1!!! I’m looking at you Smash Bros!!! Why isn’t it their nair?????????

making them a toddler who cant speak for themself

I swear everyone outside of the fandom sees Kirby as either a braincell infant or  a merciless force of mass destruction

Taranza

WHAT DIDN'T THEY DO!?!?!? Taranza, as we see him in Triple Deluxe, is such a fun villain. He's dramatic, arrogant, a total suck-up to Sectonia, and it's so. Fucking. Good. He's a devious bastard, he monologues!!! His animations in the Clash games are so fucking campy and dramatic it's chefs kiss!!!! Fanon Taranza is as plain as white bread. Sometimes as pale as it, looking at some of the gijinkas. No shade though! As little shade as there is melanin in him lmAO- He is flanderised to hell and back. There are so. Many. Fucking. Taranzas who happen to be nothing but sad and weepy about his evil dead wife. Where's the bite!!! The pizzazz!!! Even in canon, when he is a bit of a wet sack later on, he still hunts for an altar he can bring her back on. My boy's a wannabe necromancer!!! Write that shit in your lost lenore Sectonia fic you fucking cowards Queen's Phantom ain't just for show. The above is also evidence for woobification! The fucker is obviously sad his crush is dead! But can we pleeease focus on anything else. This is definitely not targeted at Hal Labs. Imagine being woobied so hard your creators backtrack your personality I would just die. "Ehehe he's the responsible mage!!" No the fuck he isn't he can't be trusted with anything he tries take control it WILL blow up in his face. He knows magic he's good at magic but is he responsible??? Fuck no my man's strongest attack is "Blow myself the fuck up via a giant burst of magic" and it shreds. Even worse is the "Taranza got mind-controlled by Sectonia" theory in tandem with this. That wasn't confirmed right. Right. God I hope not that would be embarrassing. He can't even have a moment to realise his devotion has gone too far and she doesn't love him or even care for him, and he has to finally make that decision to free himself from her like ain't that cool!!! And then making him all sad over her afterwards it's just a Little Fucked if you're tryna put it all together eh. Eh. And he's not suuuper objectified (That usually goes to Seccy rest in piss girlie) but the way he's treated in some ships is. Eugh. Fucking Magoranza amirite he's basically there to look responsible and cute (I've already explained my issue with this) and to fix the tortured soul who is Magolor (I do not like Magolor. Nor Magoranza.) Tbh Sectaranza does the same he's there to be tragic because his girlie's dead. When you give him less personality than the dead cardboard cutout you know you fucked up. Anyways these ramblings are here to remind you what Hal Labs stole from us: Taranza but not a TOTAL saddo. Theatre kid Taranza. Arrogant prick. He's even British.

For the anon above me, I just wanted to say that this entry is probably my favorite and lives rent free in my mind.

I'm definitely guilty of it and it's all we have to go off of but PLEASE he needs more than to be Sad. Give him hobbies and interests that aren't just gardening, at least. Make stuff up about him, please!

So, SO many people make him an absolute crybaby over Sectonia. Even though, yes, he has grief problems, it's not his whole freaking personality. Pretty sure they're forgetting the fact that he LITERALLY HELPED KILL HER.

Taranza is not just a little pathetic guy!! He’s a bitch— a little schemer if you will !!! He’s smug—he’s formal—he’s a little fucker!!! Taranza needs a new partner and that partner is me

Oddly enough I do think people make him out to be a bit too much of a goody two shoes. Like he has done some mean things in the past and it wasn’t all Sectonia’s fault, he literally *stole* the Dimensional Mirror after all. Don’t get me wrong I think he’s a good person in the end, but cmon. He has committed crimes

Taranza in some corners of the fandom has kinda been turned into this forever crying baby who can never recover from losing Joronia and like, I never see people who do that write about the recovery and being able to move on to the final stage of grief.

HE IS NOT A SIMP, MY GOD

Everyone needs to stop reducing him to pathetic simp. He is allowed to grieve but he's probably one of the more mature characters within the series???

People disregard everything else about his character to make his tragic relationship with sectonia his only character trait. Not sure if this quite counts as woobifying since he does canonically still mourn her (and obviously seeing a close friend/crush go down the path of self destruction and ultimately die from it WOULD NOT be something you'd get over quickly). But I'm so tired of taranza in fanart and the like being an uwu softboy with Crying as his main character trait. Like he's canonically more than that! He goes full cocky villain mode when you confront him near the end of triple deluxe and he can pack a punch in star allies with his magic! If you're going to write about him prove that you don't just know about the guy from twitter artwork!

And here’s a graph!

Anyways, thanks everyone for your submissions! What I’ve learned here is important: We’re all fucking delusional.

[lesser-mook]

The Machine (Pioneer of propaganda: Edward Bernays) *The science of control of the many by the few*

2:15 Notice how they use/weaponize women to push a bad habit & paint a method to shorten your life as a Rights issue.  

When the agenda was profit, not agency of women. 

That's how they manipulate our girls & ladies. They play on their natural altruism/power to assemble into community to fight for what's right through protest and the one's running the show are leading you off a cliff: 

That's modern gynocentrism in a nutshell. Keep women at war with men, keep girls propagandized, keep their ego's radicalized, or fear monger them into being paranoid of men or just hating maleness. 

The goal is destroying women's trust of men. And it doesn't help that corrupt men are working toward the same end from the other side.

When the best interest of both parties is having each other. 

And they (puppetmasters) know it.

"The point of propaganda is to sell you a suggestion and make you believe it was your idea."

Propaganda is science. The cheapest form of warfare; It takes longer for sure but because it's a slow burn, it's that much harder to undo because it's so intimiately integrated. So patient and articulate.

You can't just re-write generations of cemented culture overnight, the people using it know how easy the mind is to break. Especially when an incentive is indulgence, hubris, lust, ego, insecurity, longing, desire, pain, trauma even. 

It is an effective way to bring down a nation without firing a single warhead or expending a single soldier.

Convince the enemy to want their own destruction, trivialize their own livees or "eat each other". (Joker 2008)

Chani in DUNE PART Two is genius misdirection. 

She represents the skeptic who sees the dangers of propaganda, the one going against the grain:

But the point the movie made was she was proven wrong because the propaganda wasn't a lie and the messiah produced results in a matter of days- so her credibility was shaken.

Miracles, a man of works disproved the naysayer, who was technically the only person using her brain. One woman, woman of reason. (RIp, to her friend who also shared her view)

Thus was she wrong because the messiah did come?

No. The overtone is skeptics are not to be trusted because the Messiah/Anti-Christ/Superman/Neo/Lisan Al-Gaib is true.

But Chani was indeed right, the propaganda was and is a means of control despite the fact that the messiah exists, she's still right.

The Fremen "Free-Men" had everything they needed to do exactly what Paul had them do, they didn't need him entirely, but their success rate was increased because of him but their liberation was ultimately in their hands. As Paula alluded to anyway.

The Masses, the little people, the infrastructure have the power. 

Not Big brother, not the giants, but the people making the system work with the sweat of their labor have the power. 

Chani was right.

Point being: Both the propaganda can be right, and be a means of control, a lie to affirm a pacifying effect. Both can exist at the same time.

Propaganda is a sociological weapon for the psychological, it could be used to take humanity further for the goal of good, fortify the wills of the youth instead of planting discord and confusino. 

Train efficient children in a more practical school model, not enable a society where children are not even safe in schools. 

Raise competent girls trained to be self-sufficient yet humble, trained to be accountable, mentored to preserve womanhood. 

Thus resulting in women who are not dependent on the system for empowerment & charity and in fact are a dangerous force because they're not reliant for validation. 

Which is why they will be conditioned to always need it. "GirlBosses" can be controlled. A woman who can carry her own weight is too controversial for the establishment. Hence why we “support all women” until they step out of line of the accepted narrative.

Productive men with their balls still attached, not running away from society & women but welcomed to the fold. Mentored to be stable, humble, responsible, emotionally competent, boys taught that empathy is not a woman thing but a human essential. 

(Sounds heavenly)

 But control or the illusion of it- can be used against people. Peace is boring to some, it's why that very simple model will never be a reality. 

Some feel watching people burn is the way, it's why the traditional family has to be torn down, some believe chaos is the natural order, it's why you're never afforded peace in "peacetime". 

War of the sexes, political wars, race wars, culture wars, always something to keep everyone's eyes in one direction. People must fight.

(That's what Ledgers JOKER represents= Anarchy):

 "I'll show you. When the chips are down, these, ah, "civilized people"? They'll eat each other. "

The attitude being: Humanity & life is trivial. We're a tedious cause because we can be convinced to kill each other anyway or trained to romanticize genocide & violence. 

“Vulgar masses.”

The fact that Joker was proven wrong during the ferry scene isn't the point, it's misdirection. It's the fact that Harvey (A man of power of the system/ A man whom the people honored) proved him right.

It's the fact that Joker was crazy, but had an argument. 

It's not the fact that Thanos lost, it's the fact that he had an argument. He was wrong by means, but the why was right, that's the dangerous part.

The nugget of truth in the insanity is the seed, the argument is the propaganda, that's what it is dangerous. They're right and written to be so.

Through movies, tv shows games, comics, porn, fetishism (which just means obsession, doesn't always mean sex, being a Neet is form of fetishism/ literally just means *ZERO moderation/Doing too much*), books, drugs, addiction to youtube or tiktok, news, everything you see as a child, set into our ways as adults- Distraction.

Power is knowing, if you're distracted, you're least likely to know anything. Sometimes you don't want to know. More willing to give more of oneself & ones time to maintain the fix: Ie. "Minding my business", "Live and let live" 

Apathy is law. Just like the Little Nightmares viewers, compliant and sterilized. Question nothing.

Genius model to condition people to want to remain sleep, aka The Matrix

They know what they're doing, that's why they're on top.

It's why they're called "Elites", not that they're better than you or immortal. 

They know, that's it. They know.

Knowing is enough.

______________

One would reasonably say: "Coincidence, who the fuck puts all that effort in controlling people", "It's just a movie", think about it. Why are all these movies & mass media pushing the exact same thing. 

No matter how many times a show or movie bombs because of a political push, they still push the same viewpoint. Because assaulting you, namely your kids is the goal, YOU will reject it, some won't, but the successors to your generation specifically might even support it. 

Plant seeds in the next generation, the future.

And notice how the macro-companies that own these studios/companies aren't ran by you/us/ the people, normal people but instead upper echelons ran by bloodlines/ people you don't even know exist. People sooooo rich, but sooooo.....to themselves.

Celebrities are the visible "Stars" you see in the sky, but the people that own them, the people that fund them, you never see.

All these Agent Smiths, but we never see the Architect(s).

____________________

If you think it's petty, you're right, it is. If you think it's ridiculous, good, because it is, but the reality remains the same stubborn animal it was 50-100++ years ago.

Questioning this is not discouraged on my part, to question anything takes intelligence, and just because someone talks a lot doesn't mean they know what the fuck they're talking about. 

So by all means, question what I say if it smells funky to you: But all I ask is--- 

#1 **Do Not Ignore it.** Just keep it into consideration.  

#2 Don't stress over it, fear mongering isn't the point of being aware, the point of knowing what's going on with your culture thus you is building an immune defense mechanism to having your mind infiltrated any further.

Don't fear life or your society because aspects of it are designed to take advantage of you, not all of it is. Like going to the dentist isn't some grand plan to install trackers in your jaw, the lore of society is deep, but it's not that deep. 

Don't fear it, just be aware.

_______________________

Example: I watched DUNE PART TWO the first time knowing it was anti-christ propaganda, I didn't clutch my pearls the entire time- I fucking enjoyed the shit outta that film.

I saw it 4 times before March ended while knowing exactly what it was, but I didn't watch it 4 times (or anything I watch) to dissect it or find things wrong with it.

Despite what it is (& no it's not perfect as a film), I watched it that many times because I liked it, you can still enjoy things and know what it is.

And cut some things out of your life because you know what it is. But you have to see and know. "You need to see."

The ability to discern and know the difference, the OPTION to even drop certain things, is control, agency.

 The ability to "know" what it is you're seeing is the point of my or anyone saying anything, not fear: Awareness. The ability to see.

If someone is trying to scare you, they're weaponizing the truth (and sometimes, some people don't mean to their way with words/Internet charisma stats is just not where it should be to deliver the message in the best way possible). 

The true design/purpose of truth is freedom. You have the option to do or don't. Vs just being stuck in NPC mode, just acting on impulse, one way and one way only. Zero agency.

That's what Jamis told Paul: "You need to see.", All seeing Eye.

Thanos had the will to do what felt needed to be done because he had the "curse of knowledge". Not many people know what that truly meeans. 

That's why Oracle was top 3 one of the most powerful Matrix characters, not because she was the mother of the Matrix but she knew. She had "knowing".

___________

***Knowing and seeing are two different things. 

You can see something and not know what it is. You can know what to look for and not see it. 

Knowing what it is you see/ seeing it because you know: Is the point. Balance.

Not fear. Fear is just another means of control.

Can’t live a life if one fears seeing something, living in fear because you know something. That is just self-destructive. 

______________

Otherwise, these cabals are the one's that began the slogan

"Knowledge is power", 

everybody knows the phrase, but not the lore behind it.

It has nothing to do with college or degrees, you know something useless and still be useless. 

It's a taunt.  

They know. NPC's, the uninitiated, the masses: don't know.

Part of the point of the quote is a nod to the initiated, and part of it is irony.

The art of mass persuasion.

[00-oh-yanno-00]

it’s three in the morning and i can’t sleep because tomorrow we may wake up to find that Rafah is gone.

i lost my job on march 31 and the whole time i’ve been fighting with unemployment all i can think about are the fact that houses in Gaza are rubble.

i forget to eat and the hunger reminds me of Palestines that are starving, and have been starving for months. i go grocery shopping and wonder how many died while i was getting deodorant. i clean my house and think about the sewage piling up. i get my period and cannot fathom how Palestinian women are continuing

i watch as many videos as i can, i share information, i try to uplift their voices, i mourn with them and pray for them and plead with anyone who has the power to liberate them

we watch college students brutalized (again) as they are screaming in the face of militarized police who have been sent by our own government to oppress them. we see celebrities that could evacuate thousands with the wave of a hand dress up in clothes that cost more than most of us make annually.

our government officials are cohorts, sponsors, defenders, friends, and enablers of those who are literally drawing out innocent people with the sound of crying children to murder them. iserali soilders have literally posted war crimes on their social media accounts, iserali citizens have been invited to their bases to watch the torture of Palestinians. they sign american made bombs and take pictures around it before dropping it on homes with sleeping families.

we’ve seen mass graves, people stripped with their hands tied behind their backs before they’re killed. we’ve seen a child surrounded by her dead family, trapped in a car while iserali soilders kill anyone who attempted to help her

and all of this is happening while i’m trying to get a job so me, my roommate, and my cats don’t starve or end up homeless. i don’t have money to pay rent, i only have groceries because i have a sister willing to share resources with me, i have to pay a late fee on three bills because i’ve been fighting with unemployment for a month, i’m now late on renewing my car tag because i can’t afford it without a job, and i’ll be so real

i don’t care. i don’t give a fuck at this point. i don’t want anything to fucking do with a country that has commited this absolute bullshit. i don’t want to work for or with a zionist. i would rather punch their fucking teeth out, and that wouldn’t be a fraction of the violence they’d wish on me for simply saying that Palestinians deserve liberation.

how the fuck am i supposed to look for a job when my country is supporting a genocide? how the fuck am i meant to keep trucking along in day to day life when infection and disease are being purposefully spread through Palestine? why the fuck do you expect me to give a shit about bills when we are murdering an entire people

i want every missile launched to backfire. i want all iserali weapons to malfunction. i want to grab every zionest and scream to get the fuck off Palestain land. i want to break down the doors of every politician who would dare to support a genocide and impact a sliver of the fear Palestinians face every day

i am so sick of living and participating in a system that has consistently fucked so many people, throughout so many generations, all in the name of keeping the rich comfortable. i am so tired of the endless ways america specifically has fucked the entire globe. i am so tired of being forced to grow up watching as people everywhere suffer so the wealthy can be comfortable. - and do not forget that the end goal of this does benefit the rich.

do not forget that they are committing a genocide for a land grab. do not forget that there are plans for beach resorts on Gaza strips. do not forget about the canal project, about the oil, about all the resources the greedy fuckers controlling the world are already planning to rip from Palestine

and i know this post is, a, long, but b, very whiny. this is not to say that there isn’t hope. this is not to say that we shouldn’t keep fighting.

this is to say that it’s now four in the morning, and tomorrow i could wake up and Rafah could be gone, so i am still not asleep, because the only thing i can offer right now is my words, and my time, and my sleep, and that is such a little price to pay if it means someone reads this and thinks of Palestine

this is to say that despite everything, despite all the bullshit and how insane it is to continue, i will; because there’s no other choice at this point.

if we want to see the revolution we have to continue. if we want Palestine to be free then we have to continue. if we want better for our future, if we want better than what history has to offer, we must continue

and i hope, if nothing else, there is solidarity in our shared anger, action in our outrage, and results in our resistance born of love and compassion for a nation that our ancestors have failed

may Allah protect Rafah, may my Goddesses protect Palestinians, may our people liberate the world, and may we see the end of global tyranny that has oppressed the working class for centuries

[mrs-monaghan]

I was looking through tkk blogs to see what they were saying about Jimin’s death threats and their role in it—unsurprisingly nothing, and I saw you in the replies and just wanted to say, they don’t have receipts because they don’t exist. Their entire ship is built on slow-mo edits and conspiracy theories.

I do wish some jkkrs would realize they’re starting to think and move like the cult. That blog seemed more rational and reasonable than I’ve seen a tkkr be before, and harassing them isn’t doing anyone any favors. No jkkr is ever going to convince a tkkr of anything in the same way that a tkkr can’t convert a jkkr. That blog at least thinks jk and jm are friends… and wow the bar is on the floor isn’t it? I am surprised that blog is so popular though because they don’t seem to say much of anything. They agree when tkkrs send them asks and then give vague non answers with no receipts for any other ask, but I guess they’re used to that sort of thing. The one time I saw them trying to show receipts it was from an account named KookV FANTASY FICTION 😂

I did not harrass them. I do not harass people. I just made a statement. Like u said, this person seemed pretty level headed so yeah, I replied. You don't come across a sane tkkr everyday so that's why I was confused by their post. Because all I have to do is swap Taekook for Jikook and I can find all the moments they described.... with receipts! 😅

There is something you said thou that stands out to me.

No jkkr is ever going to convince a tkkr of anything in the same way that a tkkr can't convert a jkkr.

Anon, I disagree. If a tkkr showed me legit questionable moments I would listen. If we didn't have HD photos of the Taennie Paris drama I would listen. But as it stands everything they say makes tkk real can be found with V and the wooga squad, can be found with V and other members, with JK and other members. There is not one single "sus" tkk thing that applies to only them.

So yeah, a tkkr would never make me stop believing in Jikook... but Jikook would make me stop believing in Jikook. What happened with V is NEVER going to happen with Jikook. There is not leaked photos or videos (legit ones) that exist of Jimin and JK with other men or women. I personally don't think they have ever broken up so I believe this to be fact. From 2013 when we met them till now November 2023, there is nothing of substance out there that suggests Jimin or JK are or have ever been with other people.

Idk about the future but now, in this moment, I can confidently say this.

But,

If in future they broke up and stopped... well Jikooking, I guarantee you Jikookers would stop "shipping" them. Me included. We don't support Jikook to be stubborn. We believe in them because they remind us of our own rlships or rlships of people we know about.

I discovered BTS and then gravitated towards the two members who screamed "we suck each other's dicks!" to me. This is the story of 90% of Jokers. If it was RM and Jin who acted the way Jikook do, this would be a Namjin blog. If it was Jhope and V doing and saying the things Jikook do, this would be a Vhope blog. Because I am an Army and I watched alot of content with all 7 and Jikook just happened to be the sus ones.

Heck, if Tkk were any bit suspicious to me, i would be a tkkr too!

But alas! That's not the case.

Anon I disagree because majority of Jikookers have reason. We are smart, we did the math. When we get debunked we accept. When we get corrected by the Koreans, we accept. We admit when we are wrong and the survival of our ship doesn't depend on getting rid of V. Most importantly we don't make up anything just so our ship can keep sailing.

GCF Saipan who???

We are here because among all 7 members it was Jikook who looked like they had something going on. You will find Suga biased Jkkrs, Jhope biased Jkkrs, Jin biased Jkkrs, etc. If I thought tkk were real, I would support them despite Jimin being my bias. THAT, anon is the difference between us and them. Not what you think.

Oh. This is the post anon and I are talking about. Please no hate to the blog. He/she seems like good people.

Like @magicshop-pjm1 likes to say; thanks for attending my TED talk