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deadsetobsessions · 8 months ago

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Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.

He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”

Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.

With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.

The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.

Blackmail.

His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”

By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.

He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.

You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.

“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.

“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.

Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.

“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”

“Ah, yes-”

“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”

Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”

“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.

Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.

As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.

“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.

“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”

You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.

Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.

“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”

“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”

He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”

Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.

“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”

He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.

“This is… very fair.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.

He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…

It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.

Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.

Make money laundering fronts.

“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”

“I considered it.”

“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”

Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.

Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.

Nice.

“You’re a criminal.”

“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”

Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!

“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.

“What about it?”

“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”

The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.

“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”

“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”

Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.

“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”

“He’s what.”

Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.

“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”

Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.

“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”

Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”

“…Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”

“I’ll see you out.”

“Of course.”

Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.

Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.

Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”

“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”

“I see.”

Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.

——

“Danny.”

“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”

Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.

“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”

Danny smiled. “No idea.”

“Uh huh.”

Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”

A bread roll thwacked him in the face.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #dc x dp #red hood #bamf danny phantom #crime lord Danny #accidental crime lord Danny

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stormythalamus · 2 months ago

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agatha finale rant

so I’ve been seeing a lot of people complaining about the finale of Agatha and I wanted to give my two cents on their main points:

1. “they used agatha’s show as a way to promote a man!!” well yes! that’s how marvel tv works im afraid. or any tv, really. wandavision was used to introduce agatha and monica, which led to their projects in the mcu (aaa, marvels). agatha introduced billy, leading to his future in visionquest or his solo series, which will introduce tommy and vision, which will lead to children’s crusade to reintroduce wanda. this is common for any tv show, but especially a big, connected franchise like marvel. i find it so concerning that even after all the promotion that showed us billy and agatha as co-leads, people were STILL shocked when the finale sets up a future story centered around him. like i hate to break it to yall but marvel wants money. and more shows means more money.

2. “they killed off a lesbian woman and not the gay man!” first of all, in the comics, agatha is a spirit guide for the scarlet witch. this form is her most comic accurate yet. also, did yall really think that was an unfair ending? or an ending PERIOD? all her death made me think of was the possibilities for the future with both billy AND rio. and again; rio was promoted as the ‘antagonist’ to agatha since the beginning. i don’t know how people went into this excepting a happily ever after for these two. they were always depicted as tragic lovers, and i honestly think the kiss of death was beautiful and poetic. i also don’t think this is the last we’re seeing of rio. and, as a side note, homophobia is still not okay! it doesn’t matter if you’re also gay; lesbians can be homophobic towards gay men, and gay men can be lesbophobic towards lesbians. and i’ve seen wayyyy too much of both in this fanbase. you can criticize characters and critique actors without bringing up their sexuality. we have enough incel homophobes doing that for us

3. if you’re still complaining about wanda not coming back i have no hope for you

4. this show, since day ZERO, was promoted as a show with billy and agatha as coleads. while i wish we had more backstory for how agatha and rio met, the salem flashbacks involving nicholas, the road scheme, and the song were much more important to the show. the parallels between nicky and billy were explored throughout the season a lot more than agatha and rios story (whether or not you like it, it’s still true (i personally wish we had a bit more on how they met 😭))

5. sending hate to actors about things their characters did is STILL not okay! and never will be!

6. this might be a hot take but if you’re only watching a show for a ship and don’t care about the story at all your opinion is irrelevant to me. like people who started watching after it was revealed in the show that agatha and rio were lovers (because, correct me if i’m wrong, this was never revealed before the episodes dropped) have no right to be upset when the show focuses on other things. and this is coming from a MASSIVE fan of agathario. and a lesbian. i loved the fact that i was watching characters who just happened to be lesbians have their own story. yes, i wish there was more agathario in the flashbacks. but i’m really not upset at all by what we got. and don’t get me wrong, people have every right to be disappointed, but they don’t have the right to hate on the creators and actors of the show. that’s not cool.

this is way longer than i thought it was gonna be 😭😭 hope everyone enjoyed the finale

#agatha all along #agatha all along finale #agatha all along spoliers #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agathario #wiccan #billy kaplan #billy maximoff #joe locke #kathryn hahn #marvel #hot take #mcu #rant #sorry in advance

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2pndr · 2 months ago

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Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

Hi! This is my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy it :D

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

8.4k words (sorry)

“We’ll only agree if you guys bring along a fourth friend, ok?”

Your three friends all recited to you the conditions a “goddess” had set for the Christmas quadruple date they were dragging you into.

You sat at your desk, speechless as you scanned the pleading faces of your roommates and long-time friends, stunned by their brazen appeals to you. It was probably that last sentence that bamboozled you the most though. Sure you were the closest to them, but it’s not like they were short on other friends. Why did you of all people have to come along?

“Why me of all people?” you asked again, this time out loud.

“Well, apparently, they have a you in their friend group too,” one of your friends began.

“A me?” you scoffed.

“Yeah, a you,” he continued. “Y’know, a stubborn, reclusive homebody who needs to be dragged out of their room every time their friends wanna hang out. All because they enjoy their ‘me time’ a little too much,” he joked, perhaps a bit too accurately imitating your increasingly weak excuses to leave the dorm.

“Ha, ha,” you mocked.

“No seriously! Apparently, her name’s Winter.”

“Winter?” You stifled a snicker. “Like the season? That’s her real name?”

“I mean, that’s what they told us,” your friend replied with a shrug. “Who cares? It’s kinda cute.”

You silently agreed, hiding a smirk as to not concede that your interest was piqued. “So let me get this straight,” you began, folding your arms in an attempt to appear unfazed. “The only reason I’m being dragged along is because you guys need someone to pair up with some girl who—what?—shares my hate for leaving the house? The hell’s in this for me?” You asked, feigning anger.

“Dude, it’ll be a perfect match!” another friend enticed, desperately trying to paint the situation in an appealing light. “You both don’t like leaving your rooms, you both hate meeting new people. It’s like the universe is aligning for you two to meet.”

Did he even realise the irony of that sentence?

“C'mon man, spending Christmas alone in your room three years in a row is some of the saddest shit I’ve ever seen,” The first one remarked.

Well he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t let him get any ground.

“Some people can’t help it,” You retorted.

“Well those people probably don’t have a chance to go out with the most attractive women they’ll ever see.”

You scowled, about to add fuel to the fire before your third friend cut you off.

“Think about it,” he chimed in, shifting the conversation away from an argument. “If she’s anything like you, she’ll probably want this whole thing over with as fast as you do.”

“Uh, huh…” You leaned back in your chair, tamed, but staring at the ceiling unconvinced. A girl like you? With how active the rest of the campus was, you found it hard to believe there was actually someone out there like you—someone cynical and uncomfortable with social gatherings of any form.

To be clear, you didn't have poor social skills—in fact, you’d argue you had a certain way with words—you just avoided any chance to use them. You had a knack in discerning the smallest shift in someone’s expression, adjusting your tone, words and body language to suit.

But that knack was often overshadowed by an unshakable urge to assess, to weigh every syllable and gesture, scanning for the faintest sign of discomfort or misinterpretation.

This hyperawareness turned into a road-block for any conversation. Instead of letting the flow guide you, you’d find yourself scrutinising every word you said the instant it left your mouth, wondering if it had landed right, if it was too much or too little, or if you’d somehow veered into awkward territory.

The more you tried to keep things smooth, the more you’d find yourself caught in these spirals of self-correction, only to create the very awkwardness you’d been trying to avoid.

So in the rare case you did end up at a social event, it was like you were playing a part. You stuck to the same few openings, the same practised routes for small talk.

There was nothing organic or genuine about the performance, nothing personal or meaningful. It was merely for show—a facade to keep up appearances.

It was all exhausting, and that’s what you had reiterated to your friends time and time again.

Regardless of your scepticism though, a strange part of you was actually a little curious. Not about the date itself—no, that was still a nightmare—but about this mysterious girl who apparently shared your introversions.

“Look, all we’re asking for is one night,” one pleaded, hands glued together as if he was in prayer. “One night! Just hang out with her for a couple hours while we chat up her friends, and you never have to do this again. You don’t have to see her again, talk to her again or anyone else if we ever ask. We’ll owe you big time.”

“Seriously dude, we’ll pitch in for the PS5 Pro or something!” another added in further pleas.

You let out a long sigh, staring this time down at your desk. Not in a million years would you even consider buying that atrocious excuse for a cash grab, but the sentiment of your friends owing you that colossal amount was admittedly tempting.

And then there was this Winter girl. The one who was apparently as much of a hermit as you were. You couldn’t ignore that meeting her was happening during Christmas, the very time of year you tried to avoid going out the most. But you almost couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person she was, if she really was as closeted as you or just some exaggerated myth your friends had conjured up to lure you out.

It shouldn’t have, but just the idea of her tickled something deep in your brain, flooding your subconscious with various guesses of her character.

Your mind conjured up an amalgamation of the most attractive women you had seen throughout your life; famous actresses and idols, the cute barista at the Starbucks down the road, that one girl at the airport who caught your eye but you never ended up talking to. Their looks, personalities, whatever alluring details you could recall were being melted together and forged into what became your own expectation of Winter.

You imagined a stunning slim and quiet girl—that much was obvious—with milky white hair, and fair complexion. They were traits all befitting of a girl named Winter. But in your mind something about her attitude, her facial expressions… they radiated… cold. It wasn’t unlike how you appeared to strangers—irrationally concealing your timid fear of interaction with a stiff stare and an emotionless face. As you considered how similar your vision of her felt to you, it was strangely… warm…familiar.

Within a matter of seconds, your apprehension had transformed to a hesitant desire to meet her. Or rather, this idea of her you had thrown together.

You sat in a long silence, wrestling with your inner turmoil—your shameful, uncharacteristic urge to discover the truth about this girl.

Seriously man? You asked yourself. There’s no way in hell she’d look anything like that if she was anything like you.

Your asshole of a subconscious did have a point.

But something about this tugged at you in a way you couldn’t help but notice. If this girl was like you, really like you, you had to know.

“Alright,” you eventually grumbled, putting a hand over your face to suppress the oncoming wave of regret already washing over you. “I’ll go.”

Your friends erupted in cheers, high-fiving and dapping each other up like they had just won themselves a date with the hottest girls on campu–Oh.

“YES! You’re the man!” one of them yelled, giving you a ‘pat’ on the back that almost knocked you out of your chair.

"You won’t regret this!" another exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward you, though deep down, you already kind of did.

“FUCK YEAH!” the last one punched to the sky. “We owe you man,” smiling from ear-to-ear as cheers followed him out of your room.

As you hastily cleared the other two from your territory, you felt the dread settling in. One night, that’s all it was, you told yourself. Just one night with this girl named Winter, who was probably as opposed to this as you were.

What’s the worst that could happen?

---

Before you knew it, you were in your friend’s car, dressed in your Sunday’s best—which, admittedly, was a hastily thrown together fusion of your roommates’ closets.

An attempt had been made to make your less than desirable features appear at least mildly presentable to the outside world. Your hair had been styled with some expensive hair product you could barely pronounce, your caveman scent obscured by some B-list celebrity’s cologne, and your abhorrent posture—honed through years of agonising abuse to your spine—was being corrected by your friends’ frustrated hands what felt like every other second.

They had half-jokingly, half-100%-seriously subjected you to some correction exercises over the past few days, few of which you actually bothered to attempt. Obviously, the few you had tried didn’t work, as your friend had stopped bothering to correct your posture himself, instead resorting to giving you a stinging slap every time your spine inevitably slumped from upright.

The swelling of the handprint forming on your back had charitably distracted you from the metric-shit ton of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It caused your breathing to grow heavy and your heart to feel it was going to burst from your chest. A couple sleepless nights and a few too many hours of staring blankly at your PC monitor had transformed your strange curiosity for meeting Winter back into dread.

You had moronically forgotten you actually had to talk to this girl for a couple hours instead of just confirming if she was similar to you.

Either you forced some kind of pitiful attempt at conversation with her—risking major embarrassment—or both of you succumb to sitting in introverted silence.

Even if you could properly wrestle with overusing your little talent, the fact was, any attraction whatsoever to a girl caused you to fold like a cheap suit, rendering your ability useless. If Winter was any bit as alluring as your mind made her out to be it would be more than disastrous for you. It would be like every ounce of composure was swapped out for a hyperactive inner monologue—one that left you stumbling over your own thoughts.

As your friend’s car hummed along the bustling holiday streets, your mind continued to spin in overdrive almost as quickly as the neon red and green of the city's Christmas ornaments seemed to appear and disappear all around you. You aimed to avoid risking any conversation that led to your humiliation, desperately mapping out the possible routes for conversation. This process was standard yet exhaustive at this point—your own RPG dialogue tree being mapped out in your mind.

"Hey, nice to meet you. How’s it going?"

"Fine."

[ No further options.]

You could already feel the weight of the dead-end conversation dragging the both of you down. That wasn’t going to work.

“So, what kind of stuff are you into?"

"Not much."

[FAILED: Charisma check too low.]

Your mind projected you staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to find something, anything, to say while Winter twiddled her thumbs, wondering out loud with a groan,“Why did I even bother to show up.”

What the fuck brain? That wasn’t helping your confidence at all.

“Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

"Yeah, same."

[Neutral response. Proceed carefully.]

This felt promising. You could try pushing deeper, maybe ask a follow-up question, but you could already feel how you would screw it all up—one wrong word, one wrong look and kaput.

How about…

[Say Nothing.]

[No response.]

Yeah, that’s probably how it’s gonna go.

The car hit a bump in the road, and so did your only shred of confidence in this turning out well. You sighed quietly to yourself, senselessly running through these hypothetical scenarios in your head, frantically searching for the “good” dialogue option that simply wasn’t available to you.

There was no save scumming in real life, no charisma stat to help you bluff and charm your way through the whole thing, no getting lucky with your dice rolls either. It was just your limited social ability, a few thinly veiled attempts at small talk, and the faint hope that Winter might somehow be interested in having a conversation. It all reminded you why you avoided these kinds of situations in the first place…

You suck at them.

What felt like eternity with your own thoughts was soon interrupted as the car pulled up to the curb. You noticed the Christmas themed sign of the barbeque restaurant in the evening dusk. You stared at it, utterly terrified like it was signalling the entrance to some twisted version of hell—a place where your date, crowds of people, and the inevitable crushing embarrassment of being out of your element awaited—your hell.

Your friends on the other hand were already pumped, talking over each other in excitement as they recounted for the hundredth time just how hot these girls they scored were. Meanwhile, you were still stuck somewhere between resignation and panic.

Their voices blended into background noise—drowned out by the mental gymnastics you were performing to figure out how to survive the next couple of hours. You hadn’t even walked into the restaurant yet, and you already felt like retreating into the comforting embrace of your bed sheets back home.

As you resolved to follow your friends inside you were instantly hit by a wall of warmth, thick with the smell of grilling meat and the hum of lively holiday celebrants. The restaurant was buzzing—waiters weaving between tables, the sizzling of meats echoing from grills, and laughter rippling across the room like a contagious wave. Already the ‘energy’ in here was too much for you, prompting you to take a moment to adjust the atmosphere—all while your friends strode in like they owned the place.

This was the kind of scene you’d typically steer clear of: crowded, chaotic, and packed with people who simply enjoyed the presence of others. The holiday season did nothing to ease your anxiety, doing its part to gather everyone together by filling every seat in the restaurant. You shoved your hands into the unfamiliar pockets of the jacket your friends threw on you, hyper aware of how out of place you felt.

Your friends were greeted with warm smiles from the hostess—predictably, since they looked like they had just stepped off of the cover of Vogue magazine. Meanwhile, you were certain you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else.

She led you all to a private booth which was, thankfully, designated its own corner far away from the rest of the vivacious dynamic of the restaurant’s other patrons. Your relief didn’t last long though, as your heart leapt into your throat when you spotted four girls already sitting there. Three of them stood up to greet you, all endearing smiles, waves and the obligatory “Merry Christmas.”

Your fear was instantly frayed as the first girl began her introduction. Her name was Karina, and you were taken aback at how uncannily beautiful she was. In fact, it was almost unsettling how flawless she looked. It was like she had been engineered in a lab or generated by some AI algorithm designed to create the perfect face. Everything, right down to her sharp profile and unnaturally smooth skin was other-wordly perfect. A small mole dotted the edge of her chin, like an anchor tethering her otherwise impossibly symmetrical features to reality. She greeted your friends with a poised smile, but there was something behind her eyes—sharp, calculating, and trained on you—like she was sizing you up in particular.

But your mind paid that no attention as the next beauty introduced herself as Giselle—Her confident demeanour being the highlight for you. She moved with an ease that gave the impression she wasn’t fazed by anything or anyone. Her posture was relaxed, yet somehow commanding, exuding an energy that screamed, I’m hot, and I fuckin’ know it. The assertive eye contact she made with each of you as she introduced herself caused you to shrink back, almost out of respect for her authority. In contrast, her voice was steady and warm, but her eyes flicked back to Karina’s every so often, like the two of them were communicating without saying a word.

Then there was Ning Ning, who practically radiated excitement. Her lips curved into a smile that was bright and infectious, the kind that lit up her entire face. She greeted you all with a playful wave that bordered on adorable. Yet there was a switch in her—something in the way her expression shifted mid-conversation from lively and sweet to striking confidence—which could flip in an instant. She seemed to live in the moment though, completely detached from whatever silent exchange was happening between the other two. It was hard to tell if Ning Ning was more girl-next-door or temptress, and that fluidity made her all the more intriguing.

Your friends weren’t exaggerating. Each of them was stunning in their own way—like the kind of women you’d expect to see gracing the pages of a high-fashion magazine or as models strutting down a runway.

Yet, you couldn't help but notice the girl still seated at the inner end of the table, toying with her sleeves as the soft glow of her phone lit her face. Winter, you assumed. She didn’t stand, didn’t do so much as glance briefly at the four of you. But even in her stillness, she drew your attention. Her beauty wasn’t like Karina’s polished perfection or Giselle’s self-assured allure and most definitely not like Ning Ning’s bubbly charm. Winter appeared different—there was something so fundamentally distinct about her that interested you, piqued your curiosity when you thought you were infallible to such feelings. Regardless of what you heard about her, you found yourself encapsulated by nothing but her sheer beauty.

As your eyes lingered on her you didn’t feel like you were looking at a person. Instead it was as if you were gazing upon the natural landmark of a frost-covered landscape—pure, serene, and silently breathtaking. It was as if she belonged more to the cold elegance of nature than to the warmth of human company. Her presence was subtle yet striking, like the clear, crisp air on a winter morning. The restaurant's soft, amber light caught her pale complexion in a way that made her seem almost ethereal, yet still grounded. Her silvery-white hair cascaded around her face like freshly fallen snow, soft and shimmering, as if her namesake itself had carefully crafted each strand to highlight her delicate features. Somehow, Winter lived up to that paradoxically beautiful expectation you had envisioned, but seeing her in person gave the impression she transcended it.

You stumbled through your own introduction to the rest of the girls, utterly captivated by what most people would consider a bad display of manners. Anybody in your shoes would have had their eyes glued to the trio of goddesses standing before you, but you could barely spare them a second—alright, a third glance.

Predictably, the small talk that followed didn’t include you. Your friends however—more eager than you’ve ever seen them—quickly launched into banter with Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning. Normally you would be in awe of how easy they made the whole thing look, but you could only half-listen, your thoughts and eyes constantly drifting toward Winter, who remained seated quietly at the end of the booth.

Eventually, Karina offered you all to sit, prompting one of your friends to shove you along to your side of the table. The little collision knocked you out of the fugue-like state you were in, drawing a quiet cry that caused laughter to erupt around you. Quickly realising that you’d be facing Winter, you hesitantly sat down, your eyes flicking back to her every now and then.

When she finally glanced your way, there was a brief pause, her cool eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, you were caught, held in the silence between you. Her gaze was steady, unwavering, but a hint of vulnerability showed itself as she studied you. Before you knew it, you were staring—completely absorbed by the depth in her eyes. They weren’t just cold or distant as you first thought—they were calm, almost reflective, like a still lake that hid something beneath its surface. The more you looked, the harder it became to pull yourself away.

Seconds passed—maybe more—and you didn’t even realise how long you’d been holding her gaze until your heart gave a sudden jolt, reminding you that you were looking at a person and not nature’s pièce de résistance. Embarrassment shot through you as you quickly broke eye contact, feeling a heat crawl up your neck.

“Winter, right?” Your voice came out much too casual, completely betraying the fact that you were just caught staring at her like an absolute buffoon. How did you already manage to mess this up?

Winter tilted her head ever so slightly, a small flicker of amusement ghosting over her lips before she nodded. She blinked more than once, her lashes fluttering to mask brief hesitation. Her gaze softened just slightly. “Yeah,” she replied simply. Her voice was soft, but clear. There was no hint of awkwardness or hesitation, but the slight shift in her posture, the way her fingers brushed the sleeve of her shirt said otherwise.

You nodded, you’d only asked one question and you already felt like your dialogue options were exhausted. But on the bright side, the mere fact she replied meant things were already going better than they did in your head.

The silence between you both stretched for a beat, then another. Neither of you spoke, but remarkably it felt like the words were there, waiting to be said. Winter’s fingers continued nervously with her sleeve, brushing the fabric in small, rhythmic strokes, while you found yourself looking at empty plates, the table—anything but her. Both of you seemed unsure of what to say next, letting you confidently conclude that she was indeed as nervous as you. You noticed her lips parting as if to speak, only to close again after a moment of hesitation.

A few more seconds passed before you both spoke at once.

“So—”

“Did you—”

You stopped mid-sentence, catching her eye before you let out a quiet, awkward chuckle. “Uh, sorry. You go first.”

Winter looked down briefly, as if gathering herself. When she lifted her gaze again, there was a softness in her eyes, and a hint of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Her thumb brushed the edge of the table, tracing it gently as she glanced back at you. “They had to bribe you too?” She asked timidly, lightly gesturing to your friends who were engrossed with hers.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, you could say that. It’s a whole mess, isn’t it?”

Winter nodded, her own smile flickering into existence, delicate but brief. Her voice softened as she admitted, ”These three promised me free food for a week just to get me to show up.” Winter scrunched her face, slanting her eyebrows in an attempt to scowl at them, but failed miserably, producing an adorable pout that was more endearing than anything else.

Your heart may as well have melted right there.

You laughed softly, buying yourself time to regain your composure. From afar, she was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, but up close? When that cold, hard exterior began to fade, she doubled as the cutest too.

Your little chuckle successfully let you continue the eerily natural flow the two of you had going. “Mine offered to chip in for a game console.”

“So that’s what got you, huh?” Her eyes brightened with amusement, and for the first time, you saw her smile linger just a little longer. It wasn’t just her smile though. A slight accent softened the edges of her naturally sweet tone. Everything she said felt so easy on the ears, so digestible, and you—despite your scepticism and bitterness towards being here—found yourself hungry for more. Your friends would have called you a hypocrite, but in your defence, they both contributed to this perfect image that sat opposite you. You couldn't help but think it was the cutest sight you’d ever seen.

Perhaps that’s what gave you the strength to say this next part.

“Well not exactly…” You trailed off, breaking eye contact as your fingers fidgeted nervously under the table.

Winter tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow in anticipation like a puppy awaiting a command. God, how was everything she did so adorable?

You leaned in, still avoiding her gaze and turned your head slightly toward the wall, hoping the others wouldn’t overhear what you were about to say.

“I was uh…” You began, almost a whisper as the words struggled to leave your suddenly dry mouth.

This time Winter leaned in, meeting you at a distance a little too close for comfort.

“I was curious about you…”

Your words were like bullets, creating an embarrassing recoil that sent you hurtling back into the headrest, your gaze pointing straight down as a crimson flush seized the skin of your cheeks.

Your friends would have scoffed at how trivial that whole exchange seemed, all the while you felt like a timid middle schooler confessing to his crush. You managed to baffle yourself with your boldness, not daring to look up and see Winter’s reaction.

To your further surprise, your little self-conscious introspection was interrupted by a giggle. Not just any giggle. Winter’s giggle.

You looked up to meet her face—equally as rosy as yours. But in place of your distraught expression was Winter, giggling like a child on a sugar-high. Her laughter was light and melodic, bubbling up like it couldn’t be contained. She leant back covering her open mouth with her hand. Her whole face had lit up, it was the kind of laugh that crinkled her eyes and shook her shoulders ever so slightly. It wasn’t just the sound, though—it was the way she smiled from ear to ear, so unguarded and genuine, a welcome contrast to the shy and distant she showed otherwise.

You lied earlier. This was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

At first, you were confused by her sudden outburst, but as the infectious warmth of her laughter sunk in, a mutual smile spread across your face. The tension you’d been holding onto for several days seemed to melt away with each lingering note of her laugh. You honestly had no idea what she found so funny, but in the moment, you were just happy to go along with it, confident that you were doing at least something right.

Your friends, noticing her giggling, shared amused glances but didn’t interrupt. From the way they were staring, they were just as surprised as you were at how well this was going. They all held an expression that confessed we didn’t know you had it in you.

Ning Ning too giggled under her breath, playfully nudging Giselle. “Look at that—actual progress,” she muttered teasingly, her tone dripping with mock disbelief.

Karina though, was different. She subtly monitored the interaction, her sharp gaze softened now, intrigued by how Winter was opening up. It felt like she approved though, commending you in getting Winter out of her shell. She stayed silent though, still content to just observe.

Winter’s adorable outburst slowly ebbed, her shoulders still shaking slightly as she tried to catch her breath. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, an adorable mix of bashfulness and amusement colouring her features.

“So…” she began meekly, eyes flickering down before meeting yours again. “Do I live up to your expectations?” Her tone was soft, tentative, as if she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

You were caught off guard by Winter’s own intrepid addition to your conversation, feeling your face heat up as you struggled to find the right words.

I—well…” You exhaled, trying to pull together the honesty that was suddenly a challenge to articulate in her presence. “You’re not what I expected,” you admitted, a gentle smile finding its way onto your face. “I don’t think I could’ve pictured someone quite like you, even if I’d tried.”

The sudden spark of vulnerability in Winter’s expression tugged at something in you. You realised your answer might’ve sounded too cryptic, maybe even evasive. The faint quiver of her brow and roll of her Adam's apple told you she wasn’t sure how to take that.

You cleared your throat, glancing up at her cautiously as you explained, “I mean that in a good way!” Winter had a beauty that seemed too obvious, too stunning to need validation, yet you couldn’t help but want to say it aloud. “I thought you’d be stunning and well…you are.” Winter turned away sharply, hiding her flushing face with a hand. “I just thought that you’d be a lot more.. distant. But meeting you here, seeing you laugh and smile…” you were thinking of an eloquent way to put this, but you found yourself beholden to the truth right now.

Winter was having this… effect on you. You weren’t one to ‘open up’ or ‘talk about their feelings’ and yet you felt compelled to here. “Seeing you laugh and smile… I can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You had no idea where this newfound confidence was coming from, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was spurred on from what you’d just described.

Winter’s cheeks deepened from a soft pink to a vibrant flush, and she let out a shaky breath. Her fingers lingered over her features, like she was trying to shield herself from the intensity of the moment. Her eyes darted back to you and the delicate gleam in her gaze made your heart skip.

“Really?” she murmured, her voice barely audible, as though she feared saying anything louder might shatter the fragile honesty between you. She dropped her hand from her coloured cheeks, her eyes tracing your face for confirmation. “You really think that?”

You nodded, the sincerity in your gaze unwavering. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” You chuckled softly, hoping to lighten the air.

Winter’s shoulders began to relax, she herself not realising that they were glued to her neck. Her face remained flushed, but the tightness in her posture had vanished, leaving her more relaxed and open in how she sat.

“Thank you…” she let out. Her voice remained soft, but they certainly carried more weight.

“I’ll admit I’m surprised too…” She hesitated, glancing away, lips curving into a soft smile. “I thought you’d be just like everyone else…” You listened attentively, holding her gaze while she spoke tenderly, honestly.

“So I didn’t expect you to be…well, this easy to talk to,” she admitted, rubbing up her arm. “You don’t feel like everyone else, all practised lines and smooth talking,” she let out a faint chuckle. “ You make mistakes, you slip up. You’re like me. And um… cute too.” It was your turn to look away, your own cheeks starting to heat up. “So there’s something really nice about that...”

You pinched yourself under the table. This was going too well for you. This had to be a dream.

“I’m glad you think that,” you told her with a smile. Your voice was lower and steadier than you’d expected, though a trace of disbelief lingered beneath your words. Because, truthfully, you could never have imagined this going so well—not in a million lifetimes.

To your absolute delight, Winter sent you another wide smile. You didn’t think it could get much wider, but somehow she pulled it off.

You hadn’t realised it till she brought it up, but with Winter, you didn’t need to use those memorised openers or routes. She enticed you in such a way that just encouraged you to just… be you. Everywhere else you went you always felt an expectation to act like everyone else, to sound like them. But in the short time you’ve been around Winter, you hadn’t felt that at all. Was it because you two were similar?

“So,” You began, searching for your answer. “I take it you’re not a big fan of all this?” You gestured to the six other residents of the table, and by extension the rest of the restaurant.

Winter raised an eyebrow, leaning back into her chair. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs under the table, almost like she was trying to ground herself. “More or less. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate people... I just like my space, y’know? Too much noise, too many people... it feels like I’m in the wrong place.” She paused, glancing briefly at the rest of the table. “But you get it, right?”

“More than I care to admit,” you replied with a sigh, feeling some strange sense of relief wash over you. “It’s exhausting. I never know what to say, or how to keep up.”

Winter’s lips curved upward again, knowingly. She seemed to relax even more, sinking into the conversation as much as she did her seat. "Exactly. It always feels like everyone has these… scripts. Like they know exactly what to say and when to say it." She gestured lightly toward your friends, still engrossed in their own lively conversations. "But it’s… difficult. It’s all tiring,” She confessed with a little pout. “It doesn't feel natural or genuine to me, it feels like I'm… like I'm…”

“Like you’re playing a character,” you finished, taking the words right out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened a fraction, a glimmer of recognition passing through them. “Exactly!” she rejoiced. A quiet laugh escaped her, one that sounded relieved. “All our friends can happily be themselves, but we’re stuck acting like someone else.”

As Winter continued, you noticed a subtle shift in the way she spoke. It wasn’t just about her anymore—she was talking about the both of you. There was something comforting about the fact that she felt like you were in this together, like she saw a bit of herself in you. You weren’t just sharing a conversation anymore—it was an understanding.

You nodded, staring into her opulent orbs as if she were a reflection of yourself.

But before either of you could say more, Karina’s voice cut through the air, pulling you both back into reality.

“Hey, are you two lovebirds ready to order?” she teased.

You blinked and glanced around, realising that everyone else had been staring at you—impatient, but knowing smiles all around. Even the waiter at the head of your table, pen poised and all, gave you a subtle, approving nod.

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, feeling a rush of heat crawl up your neck. You turned to glance at Winter, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you. Her eyes, wide and glimmering, were so close that you could see the subtle flecks of silver and blue swirling within them. The space between you was almost nonexistent; you were close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath, your noses almost grazing. Wait, what? The realisation hit you both at once, and in an instant, you jolted back into your seat, wide-eyed and startled, your heart pounding from the unexpected proximity.

Winter did the same, recoiling sharply and causing a small tremble in the table. Her face flushed a deep, rosy pink, the sudden burst of colour creeping from her cheeks down to her neck.

“I’ll have the—”

“Could I have—”

You both started at once, then stopped, exchanging an awkward, embarrassed laugh. You gave a little nod, gesturing for her to go first.

“ I’ll have the…”

Winter’s voice trailed off as she scanned the menu in a hurry, cheeks still rosy. She managed to mumble her order, then you fumbled your way through yours right after, both of you clearly rattled but trying to play it cool.

As the waiter left the table, a heavy silence settled over you and Winter. The energy from before—where genuine laughter and soft words had filled the space between you two—seemed to have dissipated. Now, you found yourself unable to speak, the memory of that fleeting, close encounter hanging thickly in the air, making it difficult to breathe. It rendered thinking of something to say practically impossible.

You glanced at Winter, only to find her just as quiet. She was staring at the menu again, though you knew she wasn’t really reading it. Her fingers brushed along the page absentmindedly, putting in no effort whatsoever to make her rapid flicking believable. Every so often, her eyes would dart toward you, only to quickly return to the menu the second she thought you might notice.

Despite the tension, a sense of relief came over you. The silence gave you an opportunity to collect yourself, to push back the storm of emotions swirling around inside you. You sank a little further into your chair, quietly thankful for the momentary ceasefire.

Your mind wandered to all those couples who roamed the city streets—it was the bitter truth that you wouldn’t fit in as one of them. The way you’d always seen yourself didn’t align with how those people acted: smiling and talking for what felt like forever. For years on end you considered yourself emotionally unavailable, selfish with any time you had. Yet, here you were, sitting across from Winter, someone who was...different. Someone who made you feel like, maybe—just maybe—you were capable of being one of those couples.

You shook your head slightly, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. No, that kind of thing didn’t happen to people like you. You were reading too much into it, weren’t you? It had to be just the heat of the moment, the proximity playing tricks on your mind. The sincerity in her gaze, the warmth of her breath—it was just...well, it was nothing, really.

But then why was your heart still racing?

Winter shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes still trained on the menu. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but stopped herself, the words catching before they had a chance to escape. You could almost feel her nerves mirrored in your own chest.

You too thought about saying something—anything—to break the silence, but every possible word felt clumsy in your mind. You were far too embarrassed to speak up, but at the same time, you wanted to recover the soft energy that radiated between the two of you—the thrill of a conversation where you felt at ease, where you could be you.

"Sorry, about… uh, that," you forced out, sending her a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.” There was no reason for you to take responsibility, but you assumed it would ease her if she was absolved of fault. After all, it would have eased you.

Winter shook her head quickly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Trust me, if anyone made things weird, it was me.” You couldn't help but laugh—she was trying to do the exact same thing.

“Don’t worry about it, Winter,” you assured, her name slipping out instinctively.

There was a shift in her posture as her name escaped your lips, subtle but noticeable. She uncrossed her legs under the table and leaned forward ever so slightly, her fingers nervously playing with the edge of her sleeve again. She seemed on the verge of saying something important. You could sense it in the way she glanced at you—anxious eyes, cheeks flushing scarlet.

Her lips pressed together for a moment, then softened as if she’d finally made up her mind. Her eyes met yours, letting you peer into that reflective lake once again. But this time, you could almost make out what was below— she was letting down a wall, one you’d wager few have ever seen behind.

She took a breath, her chest rising and falling with a quiet resolve, and then, in almost a whisper she spoke.

“Please. Call me Minjeong.”

The simplicity of the words didn’t match the weight they carried. There was something so incredibly personal in her request, something that felt like a secret being shared between just the two of you. Her gaze stayed locked on yours, as if waiting to see how you’d react, her vulnerability laid bare.

“M-Minjeong,” you stuttered delicately, the name feeling both foreign and intimate on your tongue, like you were stepping into a space no one else had been invited to.

Minjeong’s expression softened even more, a glimmer of relief flashing across her eyes. She let out a breath, one she seemed to have been holding in anticipation of your response. A curve played across her lips. It was pure, unguarded. You almost could see the warmth radiating off of her, like this simple act of you saying her name had drawn you two closer.

“I— I like the way you say it,” she confessed quietly. Her voice was shy, as if she wasn’t used to hearing her own name spoken aloud.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, unsure of how to respond but feeling the gravity of the moment pull you deeper into her orbit. The vulnerability in her tone, the way her eyes softened when she looked at you, made everything feel so surreal. You had no idea what to say next, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none seemed enough.

Multiple pairs of eyes fell on you from around the table, but neither you nor Minjeong were in the right state to acknowledge it. As far as you were both concerned, you two were the only people on Earth right now.

Before you could manage a reply, Minjeong spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most people just call me Winter. It’s easier for me… less personal.” She glanced down at the table, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of her sleeve. “But I dunno…” She trailed off. “Minjeong feels right with you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were seeing something fragile. It was like she was giving you a piece of herself, trusting you to hold it gently.

“Minjeong,” you repeated, this time more certain. “It’s a beautiful name.”

She met your gaze again, her eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Thanks,” she murmured, a shy smile tugging at her lips, but this time, there was no hesitation in the way she looked at you. No walls, no pretence. Just Minjeong, in all her quiet, ethereal beauty.

You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind you hadn’t experienced in years. It was like being a teen again, that rush of excitement and nervous energy coursing through you—the way it used to when you’d catch your crush’s eye across the room and feel your heart race. But this was different—it was deeper. As you sat there, looking at Minjeong, you realised it wasn’t just her beauty or the way she had let you in. It was the feeling she stirred in you, something you thought you’d long forgotten. She wasn’t just someone who caught your eye—she made you feel alive again. Like you were rediscovering that fluttery, intoxicating rush from your youth, but unlike then it wasn’t fleeting. There was a quality to it that you just couldn’t articulate—your years of social isolation, your unending cynicism towards basic human emotion left you that way.

But you tried, tried to put a label on this unfamiliar feeling. You searched your mind for a word, a description, anything that could encompass what was building in your chest, but nothing came close. It was a bewildering sensation that refused to fit into the neat definitions you knew.

The tension in your mind dissipated the moment the waiter brought the food, and you watched as everyone’s attention turned to their meals. The table filled with idle chatter and silverware scraping against plates, grounding you back to the present. You took a steadying breath, grateful for the pause and the warmth of the meal as it cut through the delicate web that had woven itself between you and Minjeong.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice her in the little pauses and movements—the way her eyes sparkled with each glance around the table, her small, quiet smile at each bite. Even now, Minjeong’s presence felt magnetic, she occupied her space without demanding it, a rare grace that felt refreshing. Each time she looked up, she met your eyes with a soft, almost bashful smile that sent an echo of warmth through you. It made you want to reach out, to learn more, to let her know how much she’d already begun to matter to you.

The conversation around the table grew louder, but your own exchange with Minjeong stayed quiet and gentle. You spoke in low tones, sharing snippets about each other’s lives. Every glance, every subtle word between you seemed to deepen the quiet understanding you shared. Gone was your lacking composure, the insatiable need to assess and please. Your exchange with Minjeong felt like a safe space, a judgement-free zone to be yourself in public. You’d explain to her all your nerdy hobbies, and she would listen with genuine attentiveness, her eyes adorably lighting up when you’d find something else in common. In return, you found yourself hanging onto every word she offered back, falling deeper and deeper into the conversation as she opened herself up to you

And when there were lulls—as there inevitably were between introverts such as the two of you—you both found comfort even in the silence. It was strange, feeling so drawn to someone you had known for only a few hours. The part of you that usually resisted connections seemed to fall silent in her presence. And as she leaned in closer to share an amused thought, her fingers playing absently at the edge of her napkin, you felt something within you shift.

What was this feeling, exactly? You had tried to put it into words, only to come up empty. You were someone who could gauge how a person was feeling from body language alone, like you could measure and judge everything they felt. But when it came to yourself—your feelings, your emotions—you came up short.

But as the evening wore on and the rest of the table grew quieter, you found yourself looking at Minjeong with a soft certainty. From the way Minjeong looked at you, you got the impression she was struggling with the same dilemma. But you didn’t need to name this undefined feeling that stirred in you. Every shared glance, every smile that lingered a beat too long—these were all the words you needed. There was an understanding—unspoken yet undeniable—that whatever this was, it was real. And in that moment, with the quiet warmth shared between you two, it was enough.

---

You emerged from the restaurant, taking in the brisk air of the Christmas evening. Typically, retreating back into the bustling street was your first step in your retreat to the solitary comfort of your dorm room. It let you breathe a sigh of relief for escaping whatever social event you had been forced into.

But tonight? Tonight your steps were unhurried, in fact you felt the urge to linger. Tonight, Minjeong was by your side, her soft smile mirroring your own. The breath you let go this time was instead a remorseful one, a signal that your time together was almost over. Of course as much as she looked the part, the girl before you wasn’t some unreachable, otherworldly angel—she was real, and very much contactable.

You both watched from afar as your friends exchanged phone numbers with Karina, Giselle and Ning Ning. On any other day, you would have looked on in unspoken envy,but alas, tonight was different. You stared at the new contact sitting in your phone—a beautiful name befitting of an equally beautiful woman, punctuated by two snowflakes either side of it.

“Minjeong,” it read. Simple, familiar now, but it held a weight you’d never thought a name could carry.

You grinned, feeling a warmth unlike any the night’s chill could steal away. The white-haired girl handed your phone back to you, sending a sincere smirk your way.

“Make sure to call me, okay?”

Her tone was light and gentle, but her eyes were serious, like this meant more to her than anything else.

“Of course,” you assured. There was nothing in this world that could make you shatter the joy reflected in that smile.

Without warning, she stepped forward, instantly closing the distance between you. Her arms wrapped around you—warm, gentle and tentative. For a moment, you were too stunned to react, but the heat of her body—which was now flush to yours—quelled any concern. Instinctively, your arms folded around her, drawing her closer, absorbing her presence. The soft scent of her hair drifted up to you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own.

“Thank you for tonight.” She whispered, her soft voice muffled by your chest.

You didn’t know how long you two were standing there, pressed together as one, but in the moment it didn’t matter. When she finally pulled away, you saw her face, beaming like the sun shines.

“Have a wonderful night,” she said, her cheeks flushed, mirroring the festive glow of the streets around you.

“It already has been,” you replied, your heart full as you returned a gentle, loving smile.

Love. You chuckled.

Maybe that’s what this was.

---

If you got here thank you much for reading my first ever fic! I know there's a lot of filler here which could very easily be removed, but I really just wanted to keep everything I'd written. In the future, I'll make sure everything's more streamlined.

But apart from that I'd love for some constructive criticism. Thanks again!

#winter fluff #aespa fluff #minjeong fluff #minjeong x reader #winter x male reader #winter x reader #winter x you #winter #aespa winter #kim minjeong

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would-you-punt-them · 5 months ago

Note

Imagine watching a show with probably the most surface level potrayal of the message of "rich people suck and will use poor people for money" only to be like "hm. as the total anthesis of this message i should totally recreate this"

It's made even worse when you consider the fact that this isn't the first "IRL Squid Game" ever attempted, Netflix UK did one that was specifically based on the actual show in January 2023 called "Squid Game: The Challenge".

(I've seen people in the tags get these two shows confused, they are different - Beast Games is on Amazon, not Netflix, was filmed at the end of July this year, and hasn't come out yet).

But Netflix UK have their own scandal to answer for.

That original British Squid Game was also a disaster. "Beast Games" was filmed in the middle of one of Nevada's hottest Julys on record, hence why so many contestants suffered from extreme dehydration due to the lack of water. On the other hand, "Squid Game: The Challenge" was filmed during an unusually cold British January.

The players had been given coats, leg warmers, space heaters, and so on during the lead up to the game, only to have those warm clothes taken away before the first challenge began, because they needed to wear those paper thin canon-accurate Squid Game tracksuits. They weren't even allowed to zip them up, because the cameras needed to see the numbers on their shirts, and the fake blood spurting out when they were eliminated.

They then had to play Redlight-Greenlight in the blistering cold, holding poses, completely still, for increasing lengths of time (2 minutes at the start of the game, 30 in the late stages). Players starting collapsing from the cold, and had to be rescued by medics.

The game started with 456 competitors on Day 1, and ended up with 228 by Day 2.

Here's the Variety article: Inside Netflix’s ‘Squid Game’ Reality Show Disaster: ‘The Conditions Were Absolutely Inhumane’

TL;DR - Here are some choice quotes in case you want to read them:

“The second time the song played, I saw in my left peripheral vision that this girl was swaying. Then she just buckled, and you could hear her head actually hit the ground,” says Marlene. “But then someone came on the [microphone] and said to hold our positions because the game is not paused. After that, people were dropping like flies.”

Jenny, a player from outside the U.K. who had been flown in for the game, tells Variety: “I’m infuriated by the narrative that Netflix is putting out there, that only [a few] people were injured…we were all injured just by going through that experience.

“I’ve never been that cold for that long a period in my life. We couldn’t feel our feet or our toes. It was ridiculous,” she says. Jenny also claims that while the game was in production, restroom or water breaks weren’t allowed.

“Take some responsibility for the fact that you were ill-prepared for this kind of thing, with this number of people,” continues Jenny, between tears. “There were some things I guess [producers] didn’t think about, but when they saw the weather was going to be that way, they should have made adjustments.”

All three players [John, Marlene and Jenny] say they returned to the hotel between 7 p.m. and midnight without having dinner. Dinner orders had been taken at lunch, but because the game had run longer than expected, contestants were transported back to their central London hotel without having eaten. Production had ordered pizzas for those arriving, but there wasn’t enough food to go around, and some people went to bed hungry.

“In the morning, I woke up and there was a cold hamburger from McDonald’s and a side salad in front of my door that had been there for God knows how long,” says Marlene.

(Variety, Feb 3, 2023)

(Also, "Marlene and Jenny" are pseudonyms, because like Beast Game they signed NDAs.)

There are some other similarities with Beast Games - denial of bathroom breaks, lack of food, lack of water, inadequate medical care, and so on.

Netflix is denying these claims, or at least denying that they are as bad as contestants are suggesting, and said that while it was undeniably cold on set, "participants were prepared for that". Participants have claimed that they were, in fact, in no way prepared for that.

We know MrBeast has probably seen "Squid Game: The Challenge", because they've tried to one-up it. The British show originally had "the biggest cash-prize ever offered in reality TV" ($4.5 million), until Beast Games showed up with an ever bigger prize of $5 million.

So, it's not just "Jimmy recreating the Torment Nexus after watching the show "Don't recreate the Torment Nexus".

It's closer to "Jimmy recreating the Torment Nexus from the show "Don't create the Torment Nexus", after watching the show "This is what happens when you create the Torment Nexus".

#asks #not a poll #mr beast #beast games #netflix #squid game #torment nexus

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incorrectstarrailquotes · 1 month ago

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Sunday: I don’t care if you make fun of Catholicism as long as it’s accurate! The best humour has its roots in the truth.

Gallgaher: “You can be mean to me but there are RULES about it” is the most Catholic thing I’ve ever seen.

Sunday: I walked into that one.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail incorrect quotes #hsr sunday #hsr gallagher #posted during version 2.6

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cameronspecial · 1 year ago

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I Want To Be Your Boyfriend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Rafe never thought that he could fall for a Pogue, but the Goddess in front of him might change his mind.

A/N: This is a prequel to I Want To Be With You and requested by @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

When he first saw her, he thought she was the most beautiful Kook he had ever seen. The lavender silk Prada shirt she is wearing crops just above her belly button. It reveals a delicious sliver of her stomach that he just wants to rest his hands on. The recognizable double G of her creamed colour belt displays the girl’s financial status. But as Rafe’s eyes trail down to her pants, confusion crosses his features. The black jeans she wears are distraught with holes in a fashionable manner, yet, he doesn’t recognize the brand and the material looks too cheap to be a brand name. Her shoes also don’t match the top half of her outfit as the white Sketchers look so worn out that it had to be done because she can’t afford new ones and not because of aesthetics.

Sarah and the rest of the Pogues joining his Goddess help put the puzzle pieces together in his mind. His sister is known for her love of sharing her clothes with her Pogue friends, so the Goddess in front of him must be a Pogue. Unlike Sarah, Rafe would never associate himself with Pogues unless they were working for him. Yet, the concern she shows for JJ over a bleeding cut on his forehead from falling down makes Rafe realize he doesn’t care that she lives on the wrong side of the island. She lets out the most amazing laugh he has ever heard and he has to be the one that makes her smile. He makes his way over to talk to her, but Kiara stops him in his tracks.

“Don’t even think about it. She is too good for you,” she warns him away. He tries to sidestep her, “Come on, Kiara. Let me talk to her.” The girl shakes his head and turns him away. He doesn’t want to make a scene in front of the goddess, so he walks away in defeat. Throughout the night, he tries to talk to her and is intercepted by the other Pogues.

——

For weeks he has been trying to talk to her, but every time a Pogue is there to stop him. At least he learnt her name. Y/N Y/L/N, the name of a goddess. He is sent by his dad to pick up something to eat at The Wreck and this is when he sees her next. She is whipping down a table on the far side of the room, which makes him switch course toward her. JJ spots Rafe’s new direction and runs into his path with a smirk. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t let you near her.” “You can’t tell me what to do, Pogue,” Rafe spits out, standing up straight so the small height distance looks a little bigger. JJ wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand to try to hide his chuckle, “When it comes to her, I can. Now, as the French say, arrivederci.” Rafe is going to argue more, but the call of his name for his order pulls him away from the blonde.

——

It felt like fate when he got to the coffee shop to see her hunched over a notebook by herself. He looks around the store to check that she really is alone and no other pogue is in sight. He grins at this new revelation, sliding himself across from her in the booth. “I’ve been trying to introduce myself for weeks. I’m Rafe,” he sticks his hand out for her to shake. She brings her hand to his and he notices that although they are calloused, they are still supple, “I know your name silly. And I know you know that you have been trying. My friends don’t keep things from me.”

“Right, so you’ve just been making me chase after you on purpose.”

“You know, Rafe, you are the one with the name that means counsel of the wolf in Old Norse. I’m starting to see that it is a pretty accurate name.”

“You are just as smart as I thought you were because I have no idea what you mean.”

She finds his honesty cute, “I’m saying that wolves are predators and you have been chasing after me like a pray for weeks.” He likes that she isn’t condescending when she explains the joke to him. “Ahh, I totally understood that. Please, keep blessing me with your wisdom.”

——

Rafe has been talking and texting Y/N for a month now and he is finally convinced they are not going to be caught hanging out together by the other Pogues. This means he is finally going to ask her to go steady with him because he is assured they can go on a date without being caught. She stares at her TV show while his head is resting on her thigh near her stomach. He is between her legs and his focus is on his phone. “Y/N,” he catches her attention. “I want to be your boyfriend.” His tone is practically begging her to say yes. She looks down at him with a soft smile and her fingers lace through his hair. “Rafey, I would love for you to be my boyfriend. But I don’t think there is going to be much of a difference in our relationship,” she confides, twirling his hair between her fingers.

“Why not?”

“I don’t think you can get any more clingy than this, Rafey.”

“True, but there is something I can start craving more than your touch, Baby”

He lifts his head off her thigh and brings himself to hover over Y/N. He gives her a peck before moving in to deepen the kiss. His hands find the buttons of her shirt as he begins kissing his way down her neck. Forget about her laughter, her moans are the most amazing thing he has ever heard.

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hhnguyen · 2 years ago

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little flower

I have become an actual fanatic ever since this movie came out and brought forth all of my old love for the Avatar world. I’ve seen this movie 5 times and Jake Sully as a dad refuses to leave my brain :’)

♢ Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest Daughter!Reader (PLATONIC ya nasties)

♢ Word count: 1.8k

♢ Genre: Family fluff and feels, protective older sister reader

⌲ Description: You are a protective older sister that will always come to the defense of your siblings, even against your dad. And Jake couldn’t even be mad about it.

M A S T E R L I S T

As parents, there was no such thing as having a favorite child.

Humans knew it.

Na’vi knew it.

Jake knew it too.

But that didn’t stop the fact that he did have moments of favoring you over his other children.

How couldn’t he?

You. His first child was born into his new world. His first sign of a fresh, beautiful start. His firstborn. His first little flower.

Eywa must have thought him worthy enough to bless him with a child that was a scarily accurate mix of both him and Neytiri, although there were moments where Jake swore Tommy’s face had shone through. Like how your eyes would shine up at the prospect of learning something new, something hidden. The inner science nerd in you wanting to find out more.

You were also a fighter. One of the more anticipated young warriors of the Omatikaya clan - whispers of the elders following you with praises of being a worthy daughter of Toruk Makto.

And Jaked hated that word. ‘Worthy.’

None of his children had to be worth anything to be considered his own. They were a result of his and Neytiri’s love, and that was all that mattered to them.

Yet being Toruk Makto had put a heavy burden upon his eldest children without him having a say in it. You made sure to take most of the responsibility of being the oldest, yet a lot also fell to Neteyam being the oldest son. Jake tried his damn best to be a fair dad. An equal dad. But when he had been gifted kids such as Lo’ak, Jake was certain it was Eywa’s way to even the odds of calmness and serenity in their growing family.

You and Neteyam had been the dream babies. Calm and demure, who were easy to handle and feed. Kiri had been a little bit fussier when joining the family, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

But Lo’ak?

Damn, he had been the true nightmare for all parents. He came screaming into the world and was now walking through it with the word ‘troublemaker’ ingrained in his DNA.

And Jake wouldn’t change it for the world.

Although you, his oldest baby girl at now sixteen years old, would always have a special place in his heart no matter how many muttered scoldings he had with himself of not having favorites. You were starting to mature a bit too quickly to his liking, shedding away the last layers of your baby fat and awkward limbs, growing into the beginnings of a beautiful, young Na’vi woman.

You reminded him of Neytiri, just a few years younger and more outspoken, mixed with his crude earth humor and language.

Yeah. His mate had not been happy with that development.

Though he had managed to blame Norm and Max the first time you had accidentally let an f-bomb slip at the age of nine.

And then there were times like now, where his anger was boiling over and coiling together with the fearful worry in his gut after seeing his two idiotic sons on the ground of the raid, and not in the sky, where they were supposed to be.

‘Dad, it was my fault. I should have been more alert of their positions.’

They all knew it wasn’t your fault. But that was what you did. Take the blame with your shoulders high, and face unchanging.

‘Y/N, you-’ your name came out in a slightly agitated growl from Jake, but the relentless gaze in your eyes stopped him from taking it further.

“Just go get patched up - you stay,” the last part had been directed at his youngest son, as Lo’ak swallowed nervously. Although Jake could see you hovering behind the others before deciding to ignore his orders and remain only a few feet away.

Fearless, he thought to himself annoyed, just like your mother. That was the difference between you and your younger brother. Where Lo’ak was a troublemaker and reckless out of sheer curiosity and innocent spontaneous decisions, his stubbornness was not intended. Your stubbornness was the opposite, all willful and directed at him with a purpose that tired him out endlessly.

As he finished up scolding and grounding the stupidity incarnate that was his son, Jake didn’t miss as you walked up to him and shared some low whispers enough to make the frown on Lo’ak ease up slightly, tail giving away his better mood as he went on to tend to the ikrans.

You caught up to your dad easily enough, not saying a word and only accompanying him towards the tent of your grandmother despite the simmering anger still apparent in him.

Your younger brothers didn’t fear him, rather their respect for him was so immensely high that it automatically made them want to earn his approval in every single way, including following his orders like perfect soldiers. Or at least Neteyam did. Lo’ak, although holding that same respect was more prone to follow his own spontaneous choices.

There was a difference between you and them.

You respected your father. Of course, you did. But you also refused to become one of his soldiers because you knew better. You were not afraid to speak up against the mighty voice of Toruk Makto when you could see the faults in his choices, an ability that your mother had as well. That included many moments of unfair scoldings towards your brothers.

But he hadn’t always been this way. Your dad was carefree before the sky people came back to Pandora and declared war on your people. He had been affectionate, patient, and funny, even. You had been old enough to understand that by the return of the humans, Jake Sully had been forced to come back into his past military persona, showcasing a side that none of his children had ever been exposed to before - but were forced to adapt to with war right at their feet.

“Dad-”

“I am sick and tired of you taking the blame every time your siblings do something out of their own making!” His outburst was full of anger and frustration, and although his volume wasn’t loud, they were spat with a harshness that would usually send most people cowering away from the Olo'eyktan.

You, however, stood firm in your place. Chin raised and spine straight, waiting for the harsh breaths of your father to subside before putting in your own two cents.

“As the oldest sibling we expect you to be responsible in your choices, and as a good role model that includes knowing who’s at fault and taking the right responsibility.”

His stare was basically penetrating you. The yellow, intense eyes which were smaller than that of true Na’vi’s turned more intimidating when narrowed.

He was waiting, you realized. For you to soak in his words.

“Can I talk now?” You finally spoke, careful yet not meek.

At the incline of his head, you let your own drop slightly before letting out a sigh.

“I am really sorry, dad, ‘Teyam didn’t do anything wrong, he was just trying to stop him. And Lo’ak just wanted to make you proud, even though it was a stupid way of doing it,” you knew the way to soften his heart as his shoulders got less tense by your words. “I know you want them to take responsibility, but as you said; I’m their older sister. Is it that terrible for me to stand for them? If I can’t protect them from the sky demons directly, the least I can do is shield them a bit when they choose to do stupid things.”

Jake’s heart was constricting, memories of a past life flashing before his eyes followed by his feelings of regret and the old grief wanting to claw its way back out.

It was as if Tommy was speaking directly to him. His brother had always been the more caring sibling when they were young. Acting as the older one, despite being twins. Taking the fall for Jake’s younger self's mistakes and being the meditator despite his own harsh words of not needing help being spat in return as a show of gratitude.

The mighty Toruk Makto didn’t know if he was being punished for his past sins, or rewarded by basically getting Tommy’s personality reincarnated in you.

The anger melted away in seconds as Jake found himself simply staring at his oldest baby girl. You had a gift for softening him up in seconds, different from Tuk’s childish innocence and Kiri’s witty comebacks.

“Come here.”

Without hesitation, you stepped into his open arms and sank into his warm embrace as your dad kissed the top of your head affectionately.

“I take it you're not mad anymore?” You mumbled with a slight smile, as you felt him huff.

“Oh, I am still frustrated, flower. But you made a really good case for yourself, so how can I?”

You realized how long it’s been since your dad had actually hugged you like this. All warm, gentle affection. The last year has been hell on earth for your family, snuffing out most of the moments when the family used to cuddle together at night with laughter and sparkling eyes as your parents told stories of their past before Pandora was ruined by the sky people.

As the oldest, you had easily handed over most of the affectionate moments for Tuk to have, being only a child and needing that contact. You had convinced yourself that you were now old enough to not rely on the hugs and kisses of your parents to get through a harsh day.

You had clearly underestimated the hugs of your dad, as you gripped him tighter around the waist and nuzzled your face closer against his chest - not wanting to let go and return to the rest of the family just yet.

Jake noticed this easily. “You okay there, flower?” he murmured softly, not letting go.

“Yeah…” was your muffled reply. “Just…missed this, I guess.” Although honest, the tips of your ears turned slightly red in embarrassment.

“I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve given my oldest baby some cuddles, huh?”

“Daad,” you couldn’t help but whine, glancing up to see his familiar mischievous smirk from when he used to tease you all the time. “I’m way too old for that.”

His narrowed in a mock glare as you let out a startled squeak as his fingers suddenly tickled your sides as you tried to jump away, but he was quicker in holding you back and continuing his attack, prompting peals of laughter to fall from your lips.

The tickle attack didn’t last long fortunately before he was stepping back with a fond smile and looked you over with his larger hands cupping your face and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“I love you, flower.”

“I love you too, dad.”

Jake didn’t have a favorite child.

But sometimes he couldn’t help but cherish you a little more when it was needed.

Can Jake be my dad pls.

#avatar the way of water #avatar #dad jake sully #jake sully imagine #sully family #sully family x reader #jake sully x reader #avatar imagine #jake sully is a good dad I will not hear anything else #sully reader

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leatherjacketsanddreams · 1 year ago

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probably the most accurate thing i’ve ever seen /silly

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #biblically accurate angel #demon and angel #gay

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melon-fodder · 6 months ago

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Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: college setting, fem-bodied reader, mentions of a toxic ex, stalking, reader is Matsumoto’s stepsister, shorter reader, clothing described, first meetings, cunnilingus, reader is in a vulnerable place okay, we aren’t judging, dirty talk, reader’s pussy described as “pretty”, “sweet”, “chubby”, Hiragi’s POV

Note: this will either be a fun standalone or part of a bigger project. It depends on the flow as I keep writing more. For now, I hope you enjoy this intro~

Is this Hiragi? I’m Yodai’s sister. He said I could call you if I need help on campus.

Hiragi reads the text message a couple times, wondering if this is an introduction or a cry for help, but before he can ask, three dots show up beneath the first message.

I think my ex is stalking me.

Well, that answers that. Straight and to the point.

Getting up from his seat, Hiragi grunts to his curious friends, “somethin’ came up,” then strides out of the café and to his bike.

Yeah it’s me. Library right?

He doesn’t wait for a reply, just shoves his helmet over his head before pulling out of his parking space. The university campus is only a few minutes away, but that’s more than enough time for some creep to climb the steps and corner someone in a dark alcove—specifically his good friend’s sister.

There are only a few cars in the lot, late night studiers or maybe profs trying to get shit ready for tomorrow. It’s a little past nine, and most of the lights of the main building are turned off.

Yeah, how’d you know?

Your bro told me you work there. Omw up now.

He takes the concrete stairs two at a time, easy considering how long his legs are, all the while scanning his surroundings. There isn’t anyone lurking in the shadows that he can see, but who knows who might be sitting in one of the cars outside?

The glass doors aren’t locked even though they probably should be, so Hiragi is able to walk right in, scanning each sign—lab, tutoring—until he reads ‘Library’ and follows the arrow pointing down the corridor.

It’s dim inside, the only light source coming from the lamps that hang over the checkout counter, and underneath, bathed in their soft glow, is a single figure.

Hiragi clears his throat, and you nearly fall out of your chair, “Jesus—” eyes wide with panic when you spot him.

“Just me,” he assures. Like that’ll do anything. It’s not as if the two of you have ever met before. You only know of each other because of Matsumoto.

Your voice is a little shaky as you take in a few deep breaths and question, “Hiragi?”

He nods, moving slowly toward the counter so that he doesn’t scare you even more, knows he doesn’t exactly look welcoming in his leather jacket and ripped pants, not to mention the fading bruise on his cheekbone.

He’s surprised at the fact that you don’t look any more inviting than he does. From what Hiragi can see, you’re dressed in a dark t-shirt partially covered by a rolled up flannel, and your hair is tied into two messy buns. Your lips look bright but raw, like you’ve been chewing on them, and there’s smudged makeup around your puffy eyes.

Stop staring.

You don’t look like you should be working in the college library; you look like you should be making drinks in a dive bar or at some no-name punk show. You look like the type of girl Hiragi might try to impress.

Not that it matters. He’s here for one thing: keep you safe as a favor to your brother.

“Thanks for coming,” you finally sigh, sliding out of your chair and bending down to grab your bag from under the counter. “I know this must seem so lame, but I swear I’ve seen Yuki’s car pass by, like, six times.”

“Not lame,” Hiragi tries. “Dude sounds like a creep from what Matsumoto’s told me.”

“Creep doesn’t even do it justice,” you mumble, slinging the old backpack over your shoulder then reaching to turn off the row of hanging lights. “Fucking psycho is more accurate.”

Yukinari Arima—Hiragi was already a little familiar with the guy just because of previous scuffles. When he heard his friend’s sister was dating him, he was a little caught off guard. Matsumoto has been the fun-loving type for as long as Hiragi’s known him, but letting his sister hook up with someone like Arima? Definitely not in his character.

“I’ve tried to get her to break up with him, but all she does is call me a hypocrite and shut me out.”

“She came home cryin’ again today. Wonder what that fuck-ass did this time.”

“If he ever lays a hand on her, I swear to God I’ll kill him.”

Hiragi gets it. He understands being protective over the people he cares most about.

And when you round the corner in your scuffed up Converse, tighter-than-hell leggings, and smile up at him— “seriously, I really appreciate this, Hiragi,” —he can easily see how you bring out that big brother instinct in his friend.

“Not a problem,” Hiragi shrugs. You lock the doors from the inside with an Allen wrench, and he tries not to not to admire the shape of your ass as you walk around. He usually doesn’t notice things like that when first meeting a girl, but the subtle sound of your leggings swishing with every step draws his attention without his permission.

Fuck’s sake, dude. She’s Matsumoto’s sister. Don’t be an idiot.

“I owed him a favor anyway,” Hiragi adds. You peer at him suspiciously while you both make your way out of the building.

“And, I’m that favor?”

Your eyes are still a little red from what must have been your crying earlier, but they still twinkle with something a little playful.

Trouble.

“Guess you could say that.”

You laugh quietly, but it dies when you reach the parking lot and your focus shifts to your surroundings. There’s nothing but a few parked cars, Hiragi’s bike, and some litter that the wind catches and pushes along the ground.

A dog barks in the distance, startling you, and you actually squeak when Hiragi puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Easy. M’not gonna let anything jump at you.”

A shaky breath leaves your chest and you steel yourself, apparently believing him, and walk the rest of the way to your car with a little more confidence. It’s a little hatchback, nothing modded except for the speaker system that starts blasting as soon as you turn your keys in the ignition.

“Not in that headspace anymore,” you mutter, the familiar rock song fading when you quickly twist the knob.

“I’ll follow behind to make sure he isn’t tailin’ ya,” Hiragi says.

A laugh gets caught in your throat, and he matches your expression—curious, eyebrows raised— “you, a scary guy, are gonna follow me home… to make sure another scary guy… isn’t following me home?”

“I—” Hiragi pauses. Doesn’t make much sense when you put it like that, but still. “Gotta pick your poison, I guess.”

You nibble on your lip again, now sitting in your driver’s seat while looking up at Hiragi from below. The thoughts that churn in his head are… weird. Not like him.

Matsumoto really should have warned him about how damn pretty you are.

“Fine. But only ‘cause I’ll need you to know where I live if he ever shows up there.”

“You don’t have to justify it to me,” Hiragi chuckles.

Your expression turns serious again, voice a little sad when you tell him, “you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve had to justify these last couple years.”

Fair. You probably haven’t had a guy, aside from Arima or your brother, anywhere near your home in a while, and your ex doesn’t seem the type to appreciate other men spending time with you.

Hiragi doesn’t know what to say to that. The only response he can come up with is an honest, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He watches in absolute horror as tears well up in your eyes, but you turn toward the windshield and away from him before things can get too awkward.

Jesus, when’s the last time a dude was nice to you?

“It’s not far from here,” you state. “I’ll drive slow.”

Hiragi will be able to keep up no matter how you drive, but he doesn’t bother saying so. He’ll just follow your lead.

Student housing is not what Hiragi expected you to be living in. Small, modest, cheap. At least it’s not shady, though, many of the unit lights still on inside.

“I tried to tell my stepdad that dorms were fine. Not like I need a lot of room, but he said I deserved privacy,” you say as you walk with Hiragi to your front door. “It was probably a blessing. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle all the eighteen-year-olds.”

He’s not planning on going inside, just wants to make sure you get in safely, but you pause after unlocking your door and ask, “do you mind sitting with me for a sec? I’m just… I don’t know. Nevermind.”

“I can stay,” Hiragi answers. “It’s okay to be kinda shaken up. Break up wasn’t long ago, was it?”

He follows behind you, crosses the threshold, no idea what he’s getting himself into.

“We did the on again off again shit for a while. The final split was a couple months ago, but it wasn’t until he found out I was moving that he started getting…”

“Scary?” he offers.

You nod. “Texts and calls from burner phones. His friends conveniently popping up around town. And I swear I keep seeing his stupid car everywhere. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

“What kinda car does he drive?”

Rolling your eyes you describe his Nissan as ‘obnoxiously loud’ and ‘modded to hell and back’. “It’s hard to miss.”

Hiragi stays in his place against the door, not wanting to impose. He glances around at the parts of your apartment that he can actually see—beige walls, wood flooring, small couch that doesn’t look broken in yet. The tiniest kitchen he’s ever seen is tucked into a corner, a ladder off to the side that leads up to what’s probably your sleeping space.

It feels cramped to be honest. Decent for a single college girl who spends more time on campus, but Hiragi feels more and more claustrophobic the longer he stands here. Then again, the tightness in his chest might have nothing to do with the apartment and everything to do with the way you’re staring at him.

He can’t read your expression entirely. There’s curiosity there, and… appreciation, he thinks. Admiration?

Attraction. That’s it.

You’re attracted to him.

Which really does not bode well considering Hiragi has been struggling to keep his eyes to himself.

“I have a weird question,” you state, and he swears his heart drops into his already upset stomach. “It’s embarrassing and cringey, but I figure I’ve already made myself look like some stupid girl who can’t defend herself and—” You ramble, and he lets you, watching you get flustered all by yourself before you finally blurt, “do you think I’m pretty?”

Hiragi blinks.

“Sorry. It’s just been a long time since anyone—and you’re a guy, so I feel like you can make that judgment ‘cause I don’t know, I just don’t feel like—”

“Definitely.”

You stop mid-sentence (was that even a sentence?) and get all doe-eyed again.

“Yeah?”

Damn, Arima really did a number on you.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t really say anything since your brother would kick my ass—or he’d try to—but,” he stalls, distracted by the vulnerability that’s been etched into you. “You keep lookin’ at me like that and I might have to show ya how pretty I think you are.”

He’s not sure where that last part came from. Absolutely did not mean to say it out loud, but now it’s there, and he can’t take it back, and this is not how Hiragi expected this night to go.

You’re slow to smile, like you’re still a little in shock, but when your lips start curling they don’t stop until you’re grinning sideways at him.

“Better be careful saying things like that to a girl like me.”

Hiragi pushes off the door, takes one long step to stand directly in front of you. You’re a good bit shorter than him, enough that he has to tilt his head downward to keep eye contact, but it’s cute the way you have to crane your neck to look at him.

“Yeah? What kinda girl is that?”

Fuck. Fuck. He isn’t supposed to want you. He told Matsumoto he would keep you safe from the pervy assholes around here, and now he’s acting like one of them.

“The kind who’s had to fake all her orgasms for the past three years.”

His dick twitches at the idea of you cumming at all, and Hiragi reaches up, hooking a finger under your chin to bring your face even closer to his. He doesn’t lack confidence by any means, but it’s rare that he’s this bold.

Something about you, though… the nervous babbling or your ass in those leggings or the way the word ‘orgasm’ flowed off your tongue so casually…

“Poor thing,” he murmurs in a low voice that makes you shiver for him.

Your gaze flits to his mouth for a moment, meets his again, and then you whisper, “show me how pretty you think I am.”

Your cheeks are hot under Hiragi’s palms when he grabs your face, crushing his lips against yours in a fevered kiss he could never have predicted.

You whimper immediately, clutching the collar of his shirt before frantically shoving at his jacket.

Oh, you need this, don’t you? You need someone to scratch that itch your ex never could.

Hiragi shrugs out of the leather then walks you backward toward your couch, his tongue sliding against yours as he maneuvers you to sit on the armrest. You tear your own jacket off, arms flying up when Hiragi starts pulling your shirt off. The bra you have underneath is made of soft material and does nothing to hide your hard nipples. He unclasps it with one hand, feels you smile into the kiss.

“Had some practice, have you?”

He smirks, “a bit.”

You yelp when he shoves you, sending you falling back onto the cushions so that he can get to the waistband of your bottoms and pull. You shimmy to help him, and once they’re off Hiragi is ready to spread your legs and feast on what’s between them only to find your knees locked together.

“What? Gettin’ all shy on me now?”

He’s not gonna force you to keep going if you don’t want to, but fuck, his cock is already painfully hard.

“No, I just… it’s been a second. I’m not fully, um, scaped.”

Hiragi snorts. “I’m not some frat boy bitch. A little hair ain’t gonna bother me.”

You nibble on your lip but eventually start to relax. Hiragi speeds up the process, looming over you while pressing your knees apart, and when his eyes land on what you were so worried about, his mouth starts to water.

The cutest, chubby pussy he’s ever seen, already wet for him. You’ve obviously ‘scaped’ recently, hair past stubble but nowhere near the point of curling—not that he’s ever minded that—but your insecurities are stupid.

He tugs you toward him so that your hips are lifted against the armrest, exposing more of you to him. Hiragi spreads your folds with his thumbs and licks his lips.

“Look at this sweet pussy,” he groans, pressing the tip of a finger into your drippy little hole. “All this for me?”

You let out something between a moan and a cry, nodding awkwardly, and your voice breaks when Hiragi leans over you to look at your face, sliding a long finger all the way inside of you without warning. You can take it, he knows, already soft and slick so there’s no resistance.

“You don’t even know me,” Hiragi states, hushed and a little condescending. He doesn’t know you either, but he sure is ready to stick his dick in you.

Your eyes roll, back arching, and you clench around his finger. When he curls it the way he’s done many times before, stroking against your swollen g-spot, your jaw goes slack.

Arima really couldn't do this for you? What a fucking moron.

Hiragi knows you’re gonna cum for him. He’s gonna make you. And fast. He just keeps stroking over that doughy bundle, rubbing circles over your twitching clit, and sure enough, within a matter of minutes your thighs are tensing and you’re squirting all over his shirt.

He shoves his face against your pussy, nosing between your folds as he laps up the cum still leaking out of you, forcing more and more out with each thrust of his finger.

“Oh fuck, fuck—I…”

Sucking your clit into his mouth, he keeps fucking into you, adding another finger and abusing your g-spot. You wanted an orgasm, and you’re gonna get one. Squirting is fun and messy, but he wants to get you to climax—one of those full-body, toe curling, tunnel vision kind of orgasms.

When your fingers curl in his short hair, holding him in place, Hiragi makes sure to keep up his current pattern, sucks with the same pressure, flicks his tongue in tandem with the movement of his fingers, never changing his pace as he pushes you further and further to the edge.

You begin to undulate beneath him, and even though he was about to use his free hand to palm his aching cock, he uses it to hold you in place, humming when your legs tremble over his shoulders.

“I’m—I’m, ohh~”

Your breath catches as your whole body opens up for Hiragi, pussy pulsing, blooming like a god damn flower as you cum hard, pushing out cream and another stream of squirt while your hips move against his hand uncontrollably.

“There we go,” Hiragi praises, “fuck, poor baby just needed to cum, yeah?”

“God, yesss,” your voice is thick and shaky, and you shiver almost violently as Hiragi fingerfucks you through your orgasm.

When the last few waves wash over you, and you’re only jerking from aftershocks, Hiragi removes his fingers only to replace them with his tongue. He licks inside your creamy cunt, cleaning you like the fucking gentleman he is, leaking precum into his jeans as he tastes every part of your hole he can reach.

You moan so pitifully for him, breathless and cute, and when Hiragi finishes, he kisses your clit like he’s married to it, sweet and chaste.

Wiping part of his face on his shoulder, Hiragi leans over you again, smirking at your fucked-out expression. Your eyes are glassy, smile dazed and goofy.

“Feelin’ a little more relaxed?”

You giggle drunkenly. “Mmmuch more, thank you.”

“Any time,” he responds honestly because truly, he could eat that pussy all day every day.

Am I pretty? What a dumb question. You’re a fucking masterpiece.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta get home and jack off ‘til my dick bleeds.”

Your snort is undignified and adorable. “You could always just fuck me.”

Tempting, but, “babydoll, if I fuck you in the state I’m in right now,” —he gestures to his confined, throbbing cock, “—I will hurt you.”

You groan like you want it, but Hiragi can’t. He would destroy you with how pent up he is now, would bruise every part of you and wouldn’t be able to stop. He probably wouldn’t even be able to pull out. Christ, to cum in that pussy…

“Call me if you need anything,” he tells you, helping you sit up again, eyes wandering to your bouncing tits. He wants to bite them, mark them up with his teeth and tongue.

Another time, maybe. Hopefully.

“Anything?” you play, displaying yourself while you stretch what are sure to be sore muscles.

Hiragi chuckles, “anything.” He pulls you into a long kiss, the kind that leaves him a little dizzy, and adds a mumbled, “just don’t tell your brother.”

He leaves after gathering your clothes for you, drives back to his own apartment at break-neck speed, jacks off so many times that his cock is raw by the time he’s finally satisfied.

Matsumoto is gonna be so pissed if he ever finds out, but it was kind of irresponsible of him to put Hiragi in this situation. You should come with a damn warning—caution tape tied around your neck in a little bow.

How is he supposed to focus on keeping you safe around town when all he can think about is tasting you again?

Of course, there’s always the chance that this was a one-time thing. You’ll wake up in the morning, feel better now that you’ve gotten what you wanted, tell Hiragi ‘thanks, but that was a mistake’, and he’ll have to agree with you because it was.

Fucked up as it is, he hopes you’ll make a few more mistakes with him.

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #hiragi toma x reader #toma hiragi x reader #hiragi x reader

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weirdmageddon · 6 months ago

Text

why i think aradia and john work so well

(with some stuff i’ve been wanting to yap about for ages)

have you guys ever given arajohn / johnradia (idk if its popular enough to even have a standardized ship name) any thought …? i know it seems kind of out of left field. i’ve considered it and i think its. really really good. i have a bunch of thoughts to unpack. come join me. and maybe grab a snack or something because i didn’t realize how much i'd actually have to say about this

(fantastic art by skeletood)

the other day i made a tweet that did rather well where i said, “john and aradia shouldve talked more. its so simple but i like how she actually earnestly answers his questions. so many characters in this comic are so mean to john for just wanting to know more give him a break”

putting it out there now im not big about shipping for the sake of shipping. there needs to be real chemistry. i need to sense that as a reason why two characters would potentially be a good influence on each other. i never knew why i was always so obstinate about this because it’s fictional and not materially hurting anyone, but i think it might be because i’m not sure how to justify it or explain it if not.

i strongly believe john and aradia would have had it made out for them if circumstances allowed it. (what i mean by “ship” or “johnradia” extends to any kind of interpersonal dynamic, even if just a good friendship. it doesnt even have to be romantic, just some sort of dynamic with them.)

unfortunately aradia originally committed herself to staying out of trolling the kids over their timelines, so john and aradia never talked until year 3 on the ship in the dream bubbles but they never had a truly proper one-on-one without outside meddling. i think if john knew aradia better and her story beforehand, she had more time to explain herself and her history, he wouldnt have been unsettled. and also of course if his experience with the trolls didn’t suck so bad because he already had expectations for how antagonizing most of them were.

i found people’s sentiments about johnradia elsewhere too. i remembered that they were both on the song art for ascend, and searched ao3 to see how many fics have been written to gauge how substaintial it’s been in the homestuck fandom. only 17 of them turned up. but the people who do talk about it are either curious about it or really do like it, and that interested me.

clearly it’s pretty niche character relationship to be depicted in any fanwork and i can understand why. despite being so small, from what ive seen it seems universally agreed upon to be nice. i haven’t seen a single person object to it. what ive seen falls into two categories: “wow i didnt think about this before but i actually dig it” or “(starving) finally some good fucking food”

the pattern im seeing is that people think it’s “random”, but i disagree. there is something there substantiating it even if they’re unable to articulate it.

the fanfic these comments are from is chronology of wind. that fic is really, really good, and sadly unfinished. i have more abstract reasons to believe why aradia and john would be good in theory, so actually seeing someone else actually make something with them helped me read it in action, to get a more tangible feel of the dynamic beyond what we have in canon.

i wouldn’t normally make claims about a relationship with regard to homestuck canon by looking at their relationship in a fanfic, because i think you all know by now i am very nitpicky about accurate characterization, and it does not go unnoticed by me when people get it right because for some reason it feels like a one in a million thing (even though it really shouldn’t be?). so this was a special case. the tone was completely consistent with canon. this fic is so in-character i’d basically consider it an extension of canon. to me it’s like they took the same characters and plopped them into this scenario to see how they’d interact. guys… i love that stuff so much. i love fanfiction or fanworks that depict realistic extensions of canon and stays true to the energy and tone of the source, but deepens it. there isn’t enough of it imo. i want to see more of it.

anyway, what i read of their conversations in that fic basically aligned with what i was thinking in my head about what i’d expect it to be like. i was able to compare how aradia and john talked to how aradia and the other characters interacted, their comparative attitudes towards each other—how they’re treated by others compared to how they treat each other.

have you noticed john and aradia’s communication values are both based on sincerity, being in the proper know, treating people fairly, and thanklessly taking on the necessary work that “must be done” in order to have what they really want — a good time that feels meaningful? and they accomplish this without any adjustment in how they talk to each other.

john is always subtly (or not-so-subtly) asking the people around him to answer him soberly and to the point so he knows whats going on and what that means for what his options are. he needs to know to what end he will be applying his absurd energetic drive into making shit happen. aradia honors his time before john can even become uncomfortable with the amount of time being eaten up by conversation. contrast this with rose, who seems to go on for a while with prose-like conversational adornments. in dire situations that need rapid explanation and definitive answers so he knows what to do, this is really the last thing he needs. aradia doesnt waste john’s time. she answers all his questions, and does it politely to boot. his time talking to her doesn't feel wasted.

john's impatience with this sort of nonsense is also why i can’t see something like dirkjohn working out, for example. to me it feels like @entropicbias also deeply understands this on some level because i literally couldn’t have demonstrated what i mean by it any better myself than that. i'm gonna have to to hit him up about how much i genuinely respect that like tbh hes one of the few i absolutely trust to handle writing and depicting these characters in situations and their interpersonal dynamics. and also care about doing their characterization justice as much as me.

of course people are still entitled to like whatever they like, ship whatever they want to. i dont care. but i just don’t think it would work from the perspective of the minds of the canon characters, how they generally think and approach situations. and i can already tell people might ask me how do i know this? what makes me an expert? i’m not more than anyone else is (although i have been called a "characterization expert" from my friends), but i do know that i can pick up on the energetic chemistry between people, including characters, honestly precognitively, without even thinking? like if it’s stiff or tense or awkward, if people aren’t free to express themselves uninhibitedly, if they feel unsafe or uncomfortable. i can sense this almost instantly. it’s something that’s a visceral feeling in my body i cant express and i have to rationalize it after the fact. like i’m doing now in fact writing this big analysis.

> listen to me talk about my special interest boy

for the next section to make sense, you probably want to read this post. i initially started writing it within this post to explain but there was so much brewing i had to explain the context that it turned into something i wanted to post on its own terms.

> okaaaaaayyyyy i read all that

thank you, really. my main point is using the conceptual tools provided by this system to expIain why aradia and john feel nice together and why i’ve seen people positively perceive the idea of a relationship between them even if it seems “random”.

framing them in this system, it wouldn’t be random! there’s a good reason they seem to fit nicely. this is because john and aradia have complementary forms of information metabolism. information metabolism is talked about in this section.

Jung’s psychic types are the types of cognition, or intelligence. But it would probably be easiest to call them types of IM [information metabolism], since the main difference between the types of people lies in their exchange of information with the external world.

Aushra Augusta, Commentary on Jung’s Typology and Introduction to Information Metabolism

aradia megido’s type of information metabolism (otherwise known as a TIM) is LII. john egbert’s TIM is ESE.

aradia and john’s types are duals. you can read more about what that entails here. in theory, their interactions would reflect the duality dynamic. reading chronology of wind, that one really in-character fic that explored their dynamic made me excited because they do!

michael pierce gave an overview of his impression of the characteristics of this intertype dynamic. despite only rough knowledge in socionics while he wrote this, his understanding of duality was spot on to me from my experience and others and i wanted to share it here. (fittingly, i believe he is also LII.)

Now we have the famous duality relationship: in a nutshell, this role is characterized by two traits: 1) a very close psychological distance or intimacy, and 2) a great ease of interacting with each other. It is sometimes described how meeting one's dual can be the event of a lifetime, because it inspires aspects in each party's character that they had never expressed before: the pair may even drop out of society for a time in order to focus on just each other, and to explore themselves through interaction with each other. The curious thing in this relationship is that these parties are rather different in outlook, and when they are not actually interacting as potential friends it's probably more likely for them to dislike or mistrust each other because of how different they are. […] However, when they are able to interact normally, it is a strange and wonderful discovery to realize that the interaction is unexpectedly smooth and invigorating. It's hard for people to describe, but as I understand it: while both parties recognize their differences on the surface, these differences are created by a root structure that coincides perfectly with each other, so that the differences on the surface are entirely complementary and cause no friction at all.

it’s also meaningful to consider that the structure of my own psyche is LII as well. so i’ve got a bit of a bias towards aradia and john.. not in the sense that what i actually say about them is personally biased, but that the bias is moreso my personal attention to people and characters of these two types in particular to see how my own experiences are reflected in them. i really do feel of a reflection of my own thought and work process in aradia and in the more abstract sense she is like an extension of myself. when people say they like aradia as a character i get secondhand joy from that because shares certain specific traits with me. of course i am still my own person though.

these are some of the most apt profiles i've found for these types at a glance. again, think about these characters as you read these descriptions. [from here (ESE / LII)]

ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert) - john

The trademark quality of this type is a focus on socializing and guiding social situations and interactions so that the people involved can have fun and enjoy themselves. ESEs are typically in the middle of what is happening socially and know about the latest events and what people think and feel about them. They are skilled at bringing people together in fun and interesting ways and making everyone feel actively involved. Their friends know them as people who love life and feel most at home in social situations surrounded by other fun people. In their pursuit of fun-oriented and stimulating social interactions, ESEs typically neglect to structure their own thought processes and views in a way that would help them know exactly what they think and why. They are receptive to others’ attempts to help them introduce more structure and logical consistency in their life and thinking processes. They gravitate most to people who open up to fun and emotional interaction easily, yet are also skilled at systematizing thoughts and views and explaining ideological matters.

LII (Logical-intuitive introvert) - aradia

The trademark quality of this type is a focus on logical, structured thought and generating true assertions and views. LIIs are typically strict thinkers who are concerned that everything fits together in a logical way. They are skilled at understanding, generating, and criticizing logical arguments and instilling their views in the people around them. Their friends know them as people with well-organized thoughts and opinions who know what they think and can elucidate their ideas to others. In their pursuit of logical understanding, LIIs typically neglect their external social interactions and activities that would help them lighten up and experience a connection with other people. They are receptive to others’ attempts to create these fun and lighthearted situations for them. They gravitate most to people who are interested in their opinions and understanding of things, but are also skilled at organizing social interactions and creating a sense of emotional unity.

ive recently consciously experienced the feeling of duality for the first time since i've been communicating with my mom's high school classmate, and it is definitely a real thing. i even remember mom pointing out she noticed when we were all talking on the phone over a year ago that i perked up whenever he said stuff. here is how i explained it:

its bonkers how only once i experience something for myself i’m able to explain in detail what makes it so great based on what my impressions about it were because i tend to have a peculiar way of describing the qualities of an experience. my specialty is deep precision in my analogies for what it’s like. so now i can tell you how conversations with your dual feel… heres the status report. it’s weightless. its so strange. like the topic conversation stretches into infinity that you can pick right back up at any time. it’s hazy and unfocused but still pleasant (unless you’re particularly self-conscious and need to unlearn hiding your true self). but the best parts of it come when you have a specific issue or insecurity that comes with being your most natural self that the world seems to misunderstand about you, or just not give you what you don't even know you’ve been looking for. i think you might mutually intimidate each other at first because you're lowkey both expecting to be made fun of for your inadequacy with certain types of information that the other is nuanced with (and you’re not), but it never comes. you don't feel like what your dual wants in life is wrong. your dual seems so talented in all the ways you hope to shine but you’re always unsure of. for the introvert (me) wishing they felt their own active presence as an object (Se, Ne, Te, Fe) like the extravert does. for the extravert, wishing they felt their own relationships with other objects (Si, Ni, Ti, Fi) like the introvert does. any other intertype relationship (ITR) vs. duality is like the difference between 99% and 100% totality of a solar eclipse, except it’s the level of understanding with another person, like the eclipsing of your own information metabolism with theirs. of course there are other things that influence how well your relationship with this person goes, but i am talking strictly about when it comes to basic communication, the level of understanding you share. sometimes it might feel like you dont have much to talk about or the topic is unfocused, because you two ARE opposites in many ways after all, especially at a glance (domain of interests usually come with specific macroelements. theories about thought structures—like socionics, for instance—are in the domain of intuition, while physical interests and experiences are in the domain of sensorics.) i’m LII in the NT club (researchers) and my dual ESE in the SF club (social-communicative). so they’re constantly providing you with information from their own niche in life that you may be entirely unfamiliar with, but for some reason still interests and relaxes you to hear. you might not feel like you have a lot to say about the topic since but you are fully amazed by this person’s activity. it also makes you feel more sure of yourself and more confident that people truly appreciate and need your natural abilities.

> let’s break it down

here’s some lightly modified descriptions of the information blocks in LII and ESE's information metabolism models from pyatnitsky so you can get an overarching impression of how their type contributes to the informational sphere. i added some of my own adjustments and borrowed some sentences from stratiyevskaya's descriptions. additionally, you can click on the name of the block for an explanation of the role it plays.

i put about a week’s work into these collages but my goal with them was to actually show where i think these information blocks are most pertinent in these characters specifically and where they apply so it’s not just some abstract thing, just as supplementary examples as needed. (for the meaning of these information elements individually you can refer to cysia’s document.)

LII (Logical-intuitive introvert)

EGO (-Ti? -> -Ne!). Analytical thinking. They are well aware of the interrelationships of some objects or phenomena with others, and what laws are in effect or not in effect. On the basis of a comprehensive analysis, they put forward insights about the global essence of specific objects and phenomena, their possibilities. They acutely charge the situation with potential energy. For every situation, there is an archetype.

Super-EGO (-Fi? -> -Se!). Normative ideas about relationships between people and ways to get out of unpleasant ethical situations. Understands ethics as founded on the principles of fairness; to do to one side of the equation that you do to the other. Volitional manifestations in order to protect their living space are carried out only on the basis of personal experience. Because of the limited opportunities to fight back, they react painfully to attempts of any interference in his life. Does not respond to any arbitrary crudeness or volitional pressuring. Does not compromise goals, stubbornly clings to them. Avoids direct confrontation if possible, would rather talk civilly and earnestly. Uses their naturally strong sense of the conditioning of objects over time to avoid collisions with their material interests. Due to this, they may appear as someone with very little weaknesses.

Super-ID (+Fe -> +Si?) Attracts information about a good mood, a specific positive state, or a feeling. They would like to think that they can eliminate serious inconveniences, make the environment around them more comfortable. This skill needs to be evaluated. They are unconsciously activated when there is a need to make the environment more comfortable, which should lead to a better state, raise the mood at least in the immediate environment. In friendly, comfortable, and informal company, their cool exterior thaws and they start lighting up with joviality.

ID (+Te! → +Ni?). Has developed guidelines and methods that relate to specific practical activities, technological effectiveness, and resource use. Spontaneously feels the correct allocation of resources over time, which allows them to effectively solve tasks at an unhurried pace. This pace is deeply rational in nature.

ESE (Ethical-sensory extrovert)

EGO (+Fe! -> +Si?). Perception of the world is fundamentally emotional. Feels the emotional atmosphere well in any situation, knows the relevance of the way of expression, the place and weight (importance) of the internal state in each situation. Flexible approach to solving problems of managing and expressing emotions. They show bright emotionality both negative and positive. Creatively produces around themself comfort, coziness, conveniently arranges space, surrounds others with beautiful things, changing thereby the general condition and mood. Usually opinionated about their tastes.

(wow i really went all out on that this one that tumblr wont even display it in full resolution, so here. john just has so many more lines to choose from, sorry!)

Super-EGO (+Te! -> +Ni?). Practical and technological thinking is tightly based on acquired knowledge and patterns of solving similar problems. Methods of business activity in both general and specific areas are selected based on the opinion of reputable sources, or adjusted to one of the mastered templates. Predicting specific changes in the sphere of their interests is carried out only on the basis of personal experience. He is not able to compare his own method of forecasting with others, so he is sensitive to criticism of poor timing or deadlines, does not like situations that feel like a waste of his time; he is lost in connection with negative events. Guided by purely personal experience, he chooses specific times and deadlines for various tasks with a normative understanding of business activity in general.

Super-ID (-Ti? -> -Ne!). Attracts information about the order, specific logical relationships in the field of activity or interests. Needs someone to suggest specific ways to make connections between phenomena, patterns, and rules. Tries to be reasonable himself, even though he knows that this is not characteristic of him. Sometimes he openly talks of his actions that were poorly reasoned through, as if inviting other people to laugh at his thoughtlessness. The ordering and systematization of thought opens up a new way of understanding of events that are happening around him, as well as new prospects, potential, and capabilities. He likes to think that he understands the essence of a situation and lights up with new ideas. This skill needs to be evaluated. It is unconsciously activated when it is necessary to create order, clear consistency and clarity on a particular issue, especially if their abilities are recognized.

ID (-Fi? -> -Se!). Involuntarily keeps track of communications in their social circle. Without hesitation, they use a variety of ways to establish and maintain relationships that have been developed in his personal practice. Good relationships are important for personal inner confidence in a situation. To prevent unfavorable relationships, they are inclined, often without even realizing it, to act with pressure, forcing a showdown, forcing the partner to change the relationship for the better. Frequently demonstrates his resoluteness, persistence, and purposefulness, as if proposing his behavior as a model for imitation. Usually tells in much detail what obstacles were created before him, and how he overcame them, what he was told in response, and what he replied with, and so on and in the like.

(full res)

you might be able to see already how they would complement each other's thought process nicely. here are some descriptions of what the communication between these types is like:

+Fe! : program function of ESE and dual-seeking function of LII

The ESE periodically tells emotionally charged "program" function stories, telling of how somebody has acted and what they have done. The main orientation of ESE's leading ethical program is: "No one should be offended." The LII carefully listens to these statements, and, demonstrating a full understanding of these issues, develops logical basis for them, e.g. in calm persuasive voice he explains how the ESE has acted justly and fairly. The effusion of turbulent emotions coming from the ESE is counterbalanced by their absorption by the LII, who breaks them down into fragments by asking clarifying questions of the ESE.

-Ti? : dual-seeking function of ESE and program function of LII

The ESE is tuned to accepting information when it's relayed in clear logical form. He issues requests for logical explanations delivered from a point of view of generalized rules underpinning specific life events, which he receives from the LII, who delivers clear unambiguous interpretations, places the dots over all "i's", and demonstrates good understanding of problems that are of concern to the ESE. Not receiving information of this kind, the ESE begins making demands of those around him to be "intelligent" and understand the reasons of his actions.

-Ne! : activating function of ESE and creative function of LII

The ESE feels uncomfortable if he doesn't extend his help to people who are in need of it. His subconscious orientation is: "care and guard the talented", be kind and attentive towards other people. The LII usually meets such criteria by proving in action his aptitude at uncovering hidden capabilities, winning trust, passing on the knowledge. The ESE creates supportive conditions for people who are capable but lacking in assertive "push-through" qualities, among whom the LII finds himself, and a special work regime that protects such individuals from overloads on sensing functions. Newly discovered possibilities inspire and promote the pragmatic and business-oriented activities of the ESE. He can support a new undertaking or initiative with an enormous amount of energy and enthusiasm, light up by new ideas. Only the LII is able to, even having a vague general notion about the subject, construct a developed theory or idea of any issue. This theory shows to be promising in the process of its concrete application within its field.

+Si? : creative function of ESE and activating function of LII

LII tries to take care of their well-being, but may gravitate towards demonstrative asceticism, exhaust himself with work, studies, or exercise. The ESE periodically takes care of creating an environment that "charges" the LII with pleasant sensations: a reception of guests, a good meal, a visit to a theater or a concert, an interesting trip, and so on. At the same time the ESE takes pleasure in this himself.

+Te! : role function of ESE and observing function of LII

The role function of the ESE manifests as business-oriented activity and initiative, supplying interesting information, provision with material assistance to those who are in need, general restlessness and fussy busyness. This function is normative, i.e. the ESE seeks to comply with the norms and accepted ways of doing things. The nuancing of the understanding of these norms, i.e. introduction of activities that go beyond them, is possible only by considering LII's advice and recommendations. The LII serves as a director of this function, adjusting its workings by advocating the necessity of practical application of some beneficial ideas, rejection of useless though spectacular ideas, and the need to ensure standards of life not below average by rejection of equalization.

+Ni? : vulnerable function of ESE and demonstrative function of LII

The ESE poorly feels the flow of time, both physical, which manifests as running late and poor distribution of his strengths over time, and historical, which manifests as poor ability to anticipate consequences of actions and tendency for traditional ways of solving problems. The ESE finds it difficult to make radical choices. The LII fully takes this aspect onto his shoulders. He has an unconscious ability to distribute activities in time, thereby avoiding work stress and overloads, and is capable of making a radical choice. The LII is able to calmly wait and in the necessary moment get to work when the wasteful fussiness of the ESE reaches its critical point.

-Fi? : ignoring function of ESE and role function of LII

On this function the ESE gives advice and makes demands concerning the creation of appropriate psychological distances in form of proper behavior, courtesy and politeness, denouncing rudeness and boorishness. In this manner, the ESE adjusts LII's role function, which in itself contains a set of large psychological distances: a sullen stubborn look, unsociability, etc. With such fine-tuning it becomes easier for the LII to come into contact with people, whereby he becomes more animated, resolves many of his ethical problems that previously frightened him, gains greater insight into human relationships and a more accurate understanding as to whose side to take in situations of conflict.

-Se! : demonstrative function of ESE and vulnerable function of LII

The LII finds it very difficult to exert pressure on other people from his own will and initiative, especially in cases when he needs to attain something for himself. He finds this difficult to do - to press ahead in certain situations, to gather all the required paperwork, to stand in lines and queues, to petition for his own interests, even the ones that are of vital importance to him. He finds it difficult to push a person away, to sharply refuse someone, to quarrel loudly and defend his rights, to put an end to relations that have exhausted themselves. The ESE doesn't directly affect this function, i.e. he doesn't verbally criticize and teach the LII on this aspect, but takes over its functioning completely. The ESE exerts a constant, sometimes intrusive and imposing pressure on other people if there is a need to achieve something, to defend justice and demand fair treatment, to protect interests of those who are close and dear to him. The ESE goes to the right jurisdictions, inspires people around him and directs them towards work and purposeful activity, keeps up a high pace of life himself, and breaks off relations with those who don't deserve trust.

and some miscellaneous excerpts from literature i liked a lot. (i can't remember the sources i used since i've been working on this on and off, for the past week and i was just spilling things onto the post. i think stratiyevskaya?):

Mood - that’s what matters in this dyad - emotions and feelings. Anything that suppresses and overshadows good mood is considered unethical in this dyad and is strongly condemned.

The ESE does not allow the LII to limit him in the possibilities of consuming the amount of pleasures and joys, which he considers to be necessary and sufficient. Fortunately, both partners in the dyad - LII and ESE - are obstinate and unyielding. Both are demanding, unwilling (and not allowing anyone else) to lower the bar of their requirements, unable to give in and make concessions (especially in anything that is of principle for themselves). Both know how to make their partner reckon with their interests and insist on the fulfillment of their demands.

LII is impressed by the emotional generosity of ESE and his spiritual responsiveness. All this finds the deepest understanding in LII, since he is tuned to the same priorities and values. For his part, ESE admires the ability of LII to speak clearly and definitely on every issue. ESE is struck by the harmony of the reasoning of LII, the amazing clarity, accuracy and laconicism of his statements. To ESE it seems that for LII, there is nothing incomprehensible in this world; he can give a comprehensive explanation on every issue. And everything that ESE thought about before is gradually being built into a definite and clear system of views, which he can now very freely and naturally present. Confusion and chaos in his worldview gradually gives way to a stable logical order, as if someone patient and careful was sorting all his thoughts into shelves. Such clarity inspires and activates ESE; he begins to see some prospects for himself, new opportunities. His energy and activity, in addition to emotional and ethical expression, also receives sensory realization: ESE begins to take care of LII and carefully looks after him. If LII is a colleague with whom ESE is especially pleasant to communicate with, he begins to treat him with something tasty, homemade; will make some small, but beautiful and necessary gift (for example: new cologne or a warm scarf).

> okay that's great and all but when are we talking about john and aradia specifically?

yes, that was the point of this post. i just had to build all that up first so i could walk you through my thoughts in a fully substantiated way.

considering chronology of wind again, john doesnt realize it but he needs aradias frankness and insight. even if she’s unable to explicate on vague things, she states the reason why instead of making him feel stupid (it would create a doomed timeline) but thats all john needs to hear. she is self-effacing and only tells him the truth, and we know other people can take advantage of john’s suggestibility in this way. aradia tells john who is or isnt trustworthy, what actions would be useful/necessary and which ones wont, without any selfish personal motive a la vriska or terezi.

^ (juuuust the record my nitpicky ass doesn’t agree with the truth of the classpect interpretation on behalf of the author in the last bit BUT that is beside the point here. the point is that she is answering john’s question in a way that is meaningful for him)

aradia doesnt realize it but she needs john’s friendy goofiness to brighten her up because she is surrounded by people who antagonize her when she’s literally not even trying to get under anyones skin. everybody gets frustrated at her “spooky nonsense” because theyre afraid of their own mortality, basically telling her to put a lid on it because thinking about hard truths makes THEM personally uncomfortable. but to her it’s always just been a fact of life. plugging your ears to reality is ignorance, but at the same time that doesn’t mean there’s no meaning in anything. she wants to help people see this and she dedicates herself to becoming a psychopomp for the deceased and earnestly trying to make people feel emotionally and physically comfortable in their situation through exploring their memories.

john isn’t hostile towards her. by being herself she is immediately able to earn john’s trust when they initially talk. this is also true in canon; the one time they talked when john initially comes up to her, saying “can i ask you something? seem reasonable, and pretty nice.” unfortunately he asked her the one question she didn’t have much to say about, and i can’t blame him for expecting all the troll girls to be basically insane at that point. but i don’t think aradia is insane. yes she is odd, but i think it’s evident that she has a good head on her shoulders with knowledge of the way the universe around her works, and in the end wants to simply bask in watching it play out. i think she deserves to get childishly excited about it, especially considering she was dead for most of her developmental years.

aside from getting his answers answered, john shows curiosity about her and her species and even care about her well-being and state. this naturally comes from their conversation’s ebb and flow. aradia tells this straightforwardly, without bells and whistles and without trying to trick him, unlike the other trolls who seem keen on well..trolling him.. and providing him with unclear answers to those sorts things. maybe aside from vriska, but she did have a little bit of an attitude about it wherein her and john’s dynamic felt uneven or off-rhythm, with a large psychological distance. it’s a different feeling with aradia, however. they exchange information on the same rhythm and so are able to achieve a closer psychological distance in communication.

there are no judgments coming from aradia about john being “stupid”. she doesn’t underestimate him. it’s not just that john wants to understand (although he does), but he needs to understand what he is doing. aradia compliments john about the traits he possesses that allow him to be effective. i guess in a way i’m doing the same thing with john right now.

john is so mobile and strung along by being the action hero going from place to place as a can-do deliveryboy that he never has time to reflect on his losses, think through them, and accept them.

literally who else is more qualified in all of homestuck than aradia for talking to john about these things?

on top of all of this, they have objectively significant connections beyond just mutual self-realization in a way i think could've been fleshed out. there is potential here.

for a story, i can think of a way that a conversation between them could plausibly happen using the systems established in homestuck's mythology. in canon, we see that john never met aradia until year 3 on the golden battleship in the dream bubbles when he goes to sleep.

but john still dreamt out in the furthest ring. that means during those 3 years it was possible for john to have had a dream with her in it, or at least aradiabot. i know john didn't know aradia's name beforehand but let's just explore the possibility that they could have had met before that. remember that all these aradiabots were once this person.

aradia had obtained john's crosbytop, his dads hat, and his wallet quite a while before their sgrub session. theres your entry

imagine john seeing that

memories of dear old dad get stirred up through the link of seeing those items

the dream bubble transforms

john is forced to stand in his memories and explore grief and the meaning of life with aradia

physically being in the space around him would definitely help john reflect easier i think because it will force him to actually exist within the space and talk to someone, taking some time out for this. he wanted to know if anything could've been done or if he was just too late to save them. i know aradia would be able help him slow down and introspect. don't forget the opportunities created by the properties of these spaces that are glubbed out in the furthest ring by the horrorterrors that meld the labyrinthine time and space of their surroundings to the memories of the people and finding others through common points in memory. i would imagine that objects known by multiple people would provide a common point in memory to bring them together.

The bubbles allow the players of Sburb/Sgrub who have lost a life to continue dreaming. The reality constructed in the bubbles is a combination of the memories of everyone inside the bubble accessible to any who has learned the bubble's nature. According to Aradia, it would be quite difficult to exit a bubble to get into a new one, however someone inside a bubble can travel to another one through common points in memory, taking their own memories with them to be integrated into the new bubble. These memories mix and combine, but in general, no new memories are created. Additionally, the bubbles store the consciousness of a player who has lost their dream selves and their original selves, making them double as a form of afterlife; the player is then capable of accessing the memory of anyone else who has gained access to the bubbles. Living players, who have lost or become their dream selves, appear in the dream bubbles when they are asleep. It is in this fashion that the bubbles can be used as meeting places between the dead and the living; even those from alternate universes and doomed timelines can be found in a bubble. Furthermore, in addition to memories, the bubbles can to some extent reflect the thoughts of a player. Beyond that, the bubbles can also behave similarly to Skaia's clouds, showing things that are in some way relevant to the player - such as when coin-flip Dave saw alpha Dave grieving over Bro's corpse - something he was not aware of before being shown it by a bubble.

physically reflect the thoughts of the player…… rubs hands

john and aradia share points in memory related to those objects, and to top it all of they are directly related to john's dad on the same day he died, while aradia grew up with them as bizarre alien artifacts from an archeological dig. the memories are more emotionally charged for john, and i think that distinction would probably be relevant to them both.

to be honest i think after speaking with him for a bit she would readily tell john that she regrets not talking to the kids from the universe her team created sooner before she died, but is glad that she can in the afterlife. in canon, alpha aradia told a doomed dave, "i think its absurd i never introduced myself to you in all that time i spent moping around the lab. guess i wasnt in a very good mood".

now not all the aradiabots would know who john is, because the trolls only found out about the humans once they created the genesis frog and hid out in the lab in the veil from jack who infiltrated their session. the aradiabot in the lab was the last one that survived. so if any one of them would know who john is, it would be the aradiabot that exploded. aradia's dream self ascended to god tier in jack noir's rampage on trolls' derse and took those memories with her which we can assume is what made the last aradiabot explode. its known that any original copy that dies when another rises up becomes a ghost and lives on in the dream bubbles, which would include her. a doomed aradiabot we see in the comic, which was the one that originally landed to alternia in the past, becomes more lighthearted after she dies, a bit more like her alive counterpart.

oh yeah, and the more obvious surface-level connections to top it off? ghostbusters? john ain't afraid of no ghost girl. john would be genuinely interested in what aradia living as a ghost irl on her planet and not as a gaming abstraction in the furthest ring would be like. i imagine she would be able to explain the subjective experience and that she had to prototype herself into the kernelsprite order for her server player to see her. there's also no way john hasn't seen a movie as classic as indiana jones and judging from her poster i can imagine he probably thinks it's sweet that aradia's strife specibus whipkind is a reflection of her own personal tastes, interests and hobbies.

so yeah i've just been chewing on all of this and thinking about it but i know i needed to just get this out there somehow. obviously since i spent two weeks putting this post together i'd be happy to hear your thoughts

#homestuck #aradia megido #john egbert #johnradia #arajohn #homestuck analysis #socionics #mine

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tabbedtabby · 8 months ago

Text

good luck, babe! | chapter 2

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)

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When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.

You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?

You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.

You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.

After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.

“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.

“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.

You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.

You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.

“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.

“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.

“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.

“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”

You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”

“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.

“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”

You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.

“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.

Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.

“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.

Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.

You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.

She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.

Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.

Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.

“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.

“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.

“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.

“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.

“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.

Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.

You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.

Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.

Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?

After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.

This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.

“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.

“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.

Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.

You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.

Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.

“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?

“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.

“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.

“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.

“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.

“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.

“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.

#mean girls #mean girls x reader #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george 2024 #mean girls 2024 x reader

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