#tweets that characters make next level

[acourtofquestions]

Help, my wife got wine drunk and tried to set our marriage certificate on fire, saying “good luck returning me without the reciept”

— Things I think Rowan Whitethorn would have tweeted in the universe where both he and Twitter exist.

[mononijikayu]

why are you obsessed with me? — ryomen sukuna.

"You seemed really into it tonight." he noted casually, though his eyes held that familiar gleam. “Just playing my part, darling.” you replied with a shrug, but your voice was softer, a hint of something warmer seeping through. Sukuna stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Maybe we’re both playing a little too well, aren’t we, baby doll?" he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.  You met his gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Or maybe we’re not playing at all." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the crowd outside.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern singers au!

WARNING/S: romance, fluff, secretly dating, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, elaborate roleplay, making out, smut, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, teasing, flirting, playfulness, dancing and singing, possessiveness, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of sexual tension, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, frontman! sukuna, front!woman/soloist! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.9k words.

NOTE: finally the starter for this year's kinktober!!! i liked this idea of sukuna being a frontman and just dating another singer and just like getting off doing this play of them having this rivalry but they're actually together??? i sat there and was like 'actually, their bed activities must go wild after every fake fight!'; anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

if you want to, tip! <3

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PEOPLE DIDN’T KNOW HOW IT STARTED. But everything about the rivalry was electric, charged with an intensity that made headlines and drew crowds. Anyone who had been there from the beginning would swear it was something you had to experience firsthand—a front-row seat to the wildfire that was your feud with Ryomen Sukuna. 

Both bands had climbed their way to the top on different wavelengths: you, with your poetic lyrics and magnetic stage presence, a master of drawing the crowd into the emotion of your songs; and Sukuna, with his raw, untamed energy and unapologetic attitude, commanding attention like a force of nature. The music industry loved pitting you against each other, fanning the flames of competition, but no one had expected it to escalate the way it did.

It started innocently enough. Sukuna, in a radio interview, casually commented, “Sure, they're good, if you’re into that whole soft and emotional vibe. I just think music should have a bit more… bite.” The host laughed, the audience cheered, and Ryomen Sukuna’s grin was all teeth—sharp, confident. “You know, you gotta expect more!”

You had fired back the next day on social media with a witty post: “Bite all you want, but if your bark’s louder than your music, maybe you’re just a dog chasing its own tail.”

The tweet went viral within minutes. 

The fans loved it. The music blogs devoured it, dissecting every word, every implication. Both your names were plastered across headlines, articles speculating about a burgeoning rivalry that was just too juicy to ignore. The tension simmered, but it was still lighthearted, still playful. 

Then Sukuna took it to the next level.

At his next concert, in front of a sold-out crowd, he made a spectacle of it. “This next song….” he announced, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s dedicated to someone who thinks they can keep up with me.” His grin was wicked as the crowd roared in anticipation. The opening notes rang out—an aggressive beat, the kind that grabbed you by the throat. The lyrics were sharp, mocking, filled with clever jabs that made it unmistakable who they were about.

"Got your head in the clouds, but no feet on the ground, baby doll." Sukuna sang with a sneer. "You talk about a big game, but all I hear is sound. Nonsense!"

The audience went wild as the guitar line merged with the drums. The pyrotechnics were going insane with the beat. People ate it up. Social media exploded. Hashtags trended within the hour. Your name was on everyone’s lips, and suddenly, it was your turn.

Not to be outdone, you fired back at your own concert, taking shots at his image, his music, and even his fans. The cheers and screams were deafening; you knew you had his attention. From then on, it was an all-out war, a back-and-forth of jabs and taunts, each concert a new battleground. 

Then came the diss tracks.

You released yours first, a biting, cleverly constructed anthem that didn’t just mock his music but dissected his entire persona with surgical precision. The internet went wild. Memes, fan theories, reaction videos—your name was on everyone’s lips. Sukuna's response was swift, and his diss track hit like a punch to the gut. It was brutal, unapologetic, and catchy enough that even your own fans had to admit it was a banger.

Lines were drawn. Your fans and his went head-to-head on every platform imaginable, turning comment sections and fan forums into war zones. Arguments broke out, allegiances were tested, and friendships fractured. The media couldn’t get enough, fueling the fire with articles dissecting every lyric, every post, every glance exchanged between you two. It wasn't just a rivalry anymore; it was a movement.

And through it all, there was an unspoken understanding between you and Sukuna. A thrill in the way your eyes met across the stage, a shared smirk when your names were spoken in the same breath. You were rivals, sure, but there was something else there too—a magnetic pull that neither of you could deny. Every diss, every jab, was just a prelude to something bigger, something inevitable. 

People just had to be there. To witness the chaos, the passion, the music that became the soundtrack to an unforgettable war. To see how a feud could blur the line between hate and something far more dangerous. To feel the tension crackling in the air, knowing that this was only the beginning.

On your next concert, where you decided to strike back. “Heard some noise the other day, bothersome noise really.” you told the crowd, a sly smile playing on your lips. “Sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum. So, I thought, why not give them something real to cry about?”

The audience cheered, sensing the impending retaliation. And you delivered, every line of your song a retort, every beat a blow aimed squarely at Sukuna. "You get on my nerves; You're so fuckin' annoying, you could poison poison?" you sang, a smirk on your lips as the crowd chanted along, the hook instantly catchy, an earworm that would haunt Sukuna’s name for weeks. 

By the next day, the diss track was trending everywhere. Ryomen Sukuna was asked about it during an interview, and his reaction was priceless. He chuckled, clearly amused, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously playful. “Oh, I’m annoying, am I?” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “Well, sweetheart, when you’re that easy to rile up, it’s just too tempting not to play.”

Behind closed doors, though, it was a different story.

Backstage at a private after-party for Uraume’s album reveal, Ryomen Sukuna cornered you with a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "That was cute, baby doll." he said, his voice low, intimate. "But you know you just gave me more to work with, right?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, please. As if you could come up with something half as clever."

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, his smirk growing. “You think I’m not capable of playing your game?”

"I think you're used to being a blunt instrument, hm?" you teased, leaning closer. "But there's an art to this, darling. Not just noise."

His grin widened. “We’ll see about that, baby doll.” he murmured, his hand brushing yours—intentionally, deliberately. For a moment, your breath hitched. There was a charge in the air between you, an unspoken understanding.

It became a pattern. Each new concert brought a fresh wave of insults, veiled in clever lyrics. Every interview turned into an opportunity to stoke the fire, to keep the fans on the edge of their seats. The tension, the back-and-forth, the rapid-fire comebacks—it all played out in front of the world. But behind the scenes, it was like an elaborate game, a high-stakes dance that neither of you could quit.

"You seemed really into it tonight." he noted casually, though his eyes held that familiar gleam.

“Just playing my part, darling.” you replied with a shrug, but your voice was softer, a hint of something warmer seeping through.

Sukuna stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Maybe we’re both playing a little too well, aren’t we, baby doll?" he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. 

You met his gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Or maybe we’re not playing at all." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the crowd outside.

He chuckled, leaning in closer until his lips were a breath away from yours. "Careful, my baby doll." he whispered. "People might start thinking about something else.”

Your smile widened, eyes locked with his. "Maybe it is." you replied, your heart racing in your chest, as his lips finally met yours, soft yet insistent. “Maybe it isn’t.”

══════════════════

THERE WAS SO MUCH ADRENALINE. You were pacing back and forth, adrenaline coursing through your veins as your bandmates tuned their instruments, stealing glances at you. The festival was the biggest one yet, and your set was right after Sukuna and his folk. 

The perfect setup for another battle, another clash in this never-ending war. It was another festival gig and Sukuna was here again. But you weren’t just thinking about the performance. Your thoughts kept circling back to that smirk Sukuna flashed you from the stage earlier, as if daring you to make the first move tonight.

Your bassist nudges you with a grin. "You’re not seriously thinking about what he said last week, are you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course not." you lied. "But he’s been pushing it lately, don’t you think? I’m just figuring out how to outdo him this time."

Just as you said that, the door swung open, and there he was—Ryomen Sukuna, flanked by his own entourage, looking as smug as ever. His eyes zeroed in on you instantly, that familiar glint of mischief lighting up his gaze.

“Ready to get outclassed again?” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. Your set was… okay, if you’re into repetitive noise.”

He chuckled, stepping closer, ignoring the tension that rippled through the room. “Is that the best you’ve got, sweetheart? Because I’ve heard your new track… and honestly, I’m not impressed.”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and exhilaration. “Right, because your lyrical masterpiece about your ex was so groundbreaking. What was it called again? ‘Cliché’? Or was it ‘Cringe’? Hard to tell.”

Sukuna laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine, though you’d never admit it. “At least people are talking about it, baby doll.” he shot back, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, you and I both know… this isn’t about the music anymore.”

You took a step closer, refusing to back down. “Oh? Then what’s it about, Sukuna? Enlighten me.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper that only you could hear. “It’s about this… you and me, driving each other crazy. Admit it—you’re having fun.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. For a second, the noise of the festival outside seemed to fade, and all you could hear was your heartbeat, loud and insistent.

“You wish.” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m just here to win, Sukuna.”

His grin widened, and he moved even closer, so close you could see the sparks in his eyes. “Then let’s see who wins tonight, baby doll.” he murmured, a challenge in every word. "And maybe, just maybe… we’ll figure out what the hell this really is."

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel, heading out with a laugh that lingered in the air long after he was gone. You stood there, breathless, wondering how the hell he always managed to get under your skin—and why a part of you liked it so much.

Your drummer nudged you, pulling you back to reality. "So… what’s the plan now?"

You smirked, grabbing your microphone, your adrenaline surging. “The plan?” you said. “We give them a show they’ll never forget.”

As you took the stage, you saw him standing off to the side, watching you with that infuriating grin. The crowd was roaring, the lights were blinding, and somewhere in the midst of it all, you felt the spark ignite again.

This was far from over.

The roar of the crowd vibrated through the stage as you stepped up to the microphone, eyes scanning the sea of faces. And there he was, off to the side, arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face. Ryomen Sukuna was waiting—waiting to see what you’d do, how you’d respond to his taunts, his challenges. The rivalry had become a game, but one neither of you were willing to lose.

You leaned into the mic, letting the energy of the moment wash over you. "How’s everyone doing tonight?" you shouted, and the crowd erupted in cheers, the noise almost deafening. "You know, I wasn’t sure if we should even bother showing up after that last set." 

You paused, letting the words sink in, and a wave of laughter and excited murmurs rippled through the audience. Your guitarist strummed a sharp chord, and the band jumped in with the opening notes of your new track—the one that had set the internet ablaze.

The fans knew the first lines by heart, screaming them back at you with an energy that could only come from shared devotion. You caught Sukuna’s eye, feeling that familiar thrill at the challenge that lay in his gaze.

Halfway through the set, you decided to escalate things. You turned back to the mic, catching your breath. "You know, guys…." you began. “There’s been a lot of talk lately… about who's really on top in this scene." 

The crowd cheered louder, sensing where you were going. "Some people think it’s that guy over there." You pointed in Sukuna’s direction, and the audience erupted into a mix of boos and cheers. “Hey pink head.”

Sukuna, ever the showman, gave an exaggerated bow, playing to the crowd’s reaction, which only made them more riled up.

“But I think we all know, everyone.” you continued, leaning forward with a grin. “That the real reason people are here tonight… is to see which one of us cracks first. So, what do you say, Sukuna?” You called out, your voice carrying over the noise. “Why don’t you come up here and face me?”

A ripple of excitement and disbelief swept through the crowd. Ryomen Sukuna’s smile grew wider, and without missing a beat, he moved toward the stage, his entourage trailing behind. He jumped up onto the platform, grabbing a mic from one of the stagehands, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You really wanna do this, baby doll?" he taunted, his voice low and teasing. "Because I don’t think your fans can handle what I’ve got in store."

You stepped closer, the tension thick between you, the audience practically buzzing with anticipation. “Oh, I think they can handle a lot more than you can, Sukuna.”

He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to echo off the stage walls. “Alright then, let’s give them a show.” He turned to the crowd. "How about a little live battle, right here, right now? Let’s see who’s really got the chops."

The crowd went wild, chanting both your name and his, the noise rising to a fever pitch. Your bandmates looked at you, uncertain but excited. You gave them a nod—it was on. You faced off with Sukuna, mics in hand, the beat dropping low and steady, building tension. The music swelled, and Sukuna started first, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. 

“You think you’re on top, but you’re just a phase,  

A flicker, a flame that’ll soon be erased.  

I’m the storm, the fire, the one they all fear,  

And when this is over, you’ll wish you weren’t here.”

The crowd erupted, and you could see the challenge in his eyes, daring you to match his intensity. He continued on, people saying ‘ey’ ‘oh’ and screaming as they echoed their words. You stepped up, not missing a beat as you grinned at him.

“You swagger and boast like you’re king of the stage,  

But all that you’ve got is that pathetic, tired old ass rage.  

I’m the light, the spark, you’re the one drinking cheap booze. 

When I’m done, your crowd’s gonna give you nothin’ but boos.”

The audience was in a frenzy now, torn between the two of you, your words cutting into the night air like knives. Sukuna leaned in closer, his grin still in place, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer force of his presence. He was electric, enigmatic. He was everything all at once as you looked at him.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that, baby doll.” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear over the chaos. “But do you really think you can outlast me?”

You smirked, adrenaline coursing through you like a drug. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

The beat dropped again, faster, harder, and the two of you kept going, each line sharper, each verse more biting than the last. It wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was a test of will, a clash of two forces too strong to coexist but too intrigued to stay apart.

And somewhere in the midst of it all, as the crowd surged and screamed, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t trying to win this battle. Maybe you were just trying to keep Sukuna’s eyes on you for as long as possible. 

══════════════════

YOU DIDN’T WANT TO GO TO PRACTICE TODAY. But you decided that you were going to go anyway. Mainly because your bandmates said they’ll buy you your favorite matcha drink with your favorite croissant today. And you like to be given free stuff, so off you went, dressed in baggy clothes and headed to the studio.

The studio lights were dimmed low, and the energy in the room crackled with excitement. Your bandmates were clustered around, phones in hand, eyes glued to the social media explosion that followed your latest diss track.

They seemed more excited than you. Especially now that you get to perform it live. You sat in the center, drinking your matcha drink with a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips. The track had dropped at midnight, and by morning, it had already become the talk of the town.

The song was everywhere now. Fans and critics were dissecting every line, every beat, comparing it to Sukuna’s latest attempt at a rebuttal. But this time, you’d hit a nerve. You knew that already. Sukuna’s the type to enjoy saying something about anything and everything. Your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced down to see a message from your manager.

"Check his story." it read. “Now.”

You quickly grabbed your phone, pulling up Sukuna’s social media. Sure enough, an Instagram Live was broadcasting in real-time. Ryomen Sukuna lounged on a familiar couch, the blue glow of his phone screen casting a soft light on his face. His expression was a mix of amused disbelief and genuine intrigue, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright, alright, you guys.” Sukuna drawled, glancing at the camera. “I gotta hand it to them—this track is… something. From you-know-who.” He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “But seriously, 'why you so obsessed with me?' That track is pretty interesting.”

He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “That hook… damn, it’s catchy. I’m almost flattered, really. Almost.” He paused, his grin widening. “You really think I got a Napoleon complex, baby doll? Because last I checked, I was standing pretty tall.”

The comments exploded—hearts, fire emojis, and a flurry of messages from fans of both sides, hurling playful and not-so-playful insults. He knew you would be watching his broadcast. You leaned back in your chair, smirking as you watched him. The song had clearly gotten under his skin, just as you’d intended.

Sukuna’s grin faded slightly as he continued, “But let’s talk about some of those lines. ‘Last man on earth still couldn’t get this’? Ouch. You know that’s not true, baby doll.” 

Hesnickers, a mischievous gleam in his scarlet eyes. “Because if I remember correctly… you were the one who couldn’t stop staring at me from across the room just a while ago.”

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks, but you kept your expression neutral. No way you’d give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words affected you. At least….You shake your head, continuing to drink your matcha drink. Not here, you think. It would be too obvious.

Sukuna leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “But seriously, props to you and your crew. You got everyone talking, and that’s what it’s all about, right?” He winked at the camera. “Now, I guess I’ll just have to come up with something to top it… and I will.”

He ended the Live with a cocky grin, and your phone buzzed again—a new message from your manager. “He’s biting. Good job. This is gonna blow up.”

Your drummer chuckled, “Did you see the way he was trying so hard not to laugh? He’s loving this just as much as we are.”

Your guitarist nodded, absently strumming a few chords. “Oh, he’s definitely going to come back with something. What’s the next move?”

You grinned, leaning forward, fingers tapping rhythmically on your knee. “Next move? We keep pushing. He wants a war, we’ll give him a war.”

Your bassist chimed in, “And if he’s obsessed, we’re gonna make sure he stays that way.”

The room burst into laughter, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. You had Sukuna’s attention, and you weren’t planning on letting go anytime soon. You stood up and put your drink away. “Alright, alright. Time to practice.”

A few hours later, as you were leaving the studio and headed for dinner with your bandmates, your phone buzzed again—a private message from Ryomen Sukuna himself.

“Nice track, baby doll. You got guts. But don’t think for a second this is over.”

You smirked at the screen, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you typed back a quick reply. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

With that, you hit send, knowing full well that this game of cat and mouse was far from over. The rivalry had taken on a life of its own, and you were ready to see it through to the end.

The days following the Instagram Live were a whirlwind of activity. The media coverage of your feud with Sukuna was relentless, and the buzz around both your diss track and Sukuna's playful response only grew louder. Your fans were eagerly waiting for the next move, while the anticipation among Sukuna's followers was palpable.

Your studio was buzzing with a new energy as your band prepared for the next stage of the rivalry. You were in a brainstorming session with your team, mapping out strategies and refining ideas. The stakes had never been higher, and everyone was determined to capitalize on the momentum.

As you reviewed some rough cuts of new material, your phone once more buzzed with a notification—a direct message from Sukuna on Instagram. You raised an eyebrow. Your curiosity piqued, and opened it to find a short video clip.

The video showed Sukuna lounging in his familiar and stylish, minimalistic apartment, the camera focused on his face. He had a relaxed, almost smug expression, and he started speaking directly to the camera.

“Hey, baby doll.” he began, his voice smooth and confident. “I see you’re still all fired up from our little game. Can’t say I’m surprised. But if you think you’ve got me cornered, you’re in for a surprise.”

He paused, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’m working on something that’ll blow your track out of the water. Something special, just for you.” He leaned in closer, his tone dropping to a more intimate level. “And I promise, it’s going to make you rethink everything you thought you knew about this competition.”

Sukuna ended the video with a wink, and the message was signed with a flourish: “Yours truly, Sukuna.”

You chuckled, impressed by his confidence and intrigued by his hint. You knew this was only the beginning of a new round in your ongoing rivalry. You showed the video to your bandmates, and they were immediately excited. 

“Looks like Sukuna’s not holding back.” your drummer said, leaning over to get a better look. “What’s our move?”

You grinned, feeling the familiar thrill of competition. “We push the envelope even further. If he’s coming at us with something big, we need to be ready to top it. Let’s go all in.”

The team rallied, diving into planning and creative sessions with renewed vigor. Ideas were thrown around, debates sparked, and everyone was charged with the excitement of outdoing Sukuna. Later that evening, as you were reviewing the final mix of your new track, your phone buzzed again. 

It was another message from Sukuna, this time with a photo attached. It was a behind-the-scenes shot from his recording studio, showing him with headphones on, a focused expression on his face. The caption read: “Just a little preview of what’s coming your way. Can’t wait to see your reaction 😉”

You couldn’t help but smile. The rivalry was as thrilling as ever, and Sukuna’s antics only made it more engaging. You replied with a playful message: “Bring it on, Sukuna. We’re ready for whatever you’ve got.”

As you finished up for the night, you felt a rush of anticipation. The battle between you and Sukuna had transcended mere competition; it had become an electrifying dance, each of you pushing the other to new heights. And you were more than ready for the next move.

The stage lights cut through the darkness, bathing Sukuna in a dramatic, almost ethereal glow. The crowd roared with anticipation, their excitement palpable as they waited for Sukuna’s next performance. You were in the VIP section, surrounded by your bandmates, eyes fixed on the stage. The rivalry had reached a new peak, and tonight was the next chapter.

Sukuna appeared at the center of the stage, wearing a tailored black suit that accentuated his confident, charismatic presence. His expression was a mix of cocky assurance and playful challenge. He grabbed the microphone with an almost theatrical flair, and the band behind him struck up a powerful, bass-heavy beat.

He began to sing, his voice dripping with both charm and defiance. The lyrics were a direct response to your latest track, each line crafted to counter your words with his own brand of swagger and wit. 

“You think you’re clever with your little diss track, babe, 

But let me show you what I’ve got—watch me take it back. 

You throw punches in the dark, but I’m the light that blinds, 

Every move you make, every line you drop, I’m right behind.”

The crowd cheered, their energy feeding into Sukuna’s performance. His voice was smooth and commanding, each note perfectly delivered with an edge of playful arrogance. As the chorus hit, Sukuna took a moment to address the audience directly. He flashed a grin and winked in your direction, his eyes locking with yours for a brief, charged moment.

“And you think you know me? Think you’ve got my number? 

Watch me turn this game around, and watch you slumber. 

I’m the king of this stage, and you’re just a player, 

So step aside, baby doll, it’s time for a new layer.

Call me up, call me late, rumble some date.

Come on, be obsessed with me, get home late.”

The wink was truly unmistakable—a flirtatious, provocative gesture that carried both a challenge and a promise. You bit your lower lip. It was clear that Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just participating in this rivalry; he was fully immersed in it, relishing every moment and using it to his advantage.

Just as much, you also couldn’t help but be impressed, despite the competitive edge. The rest of his performance was electrifying, and Sukuna’s ability to blend his charm with his musical prowess only heightened the tension and excitement of your ongoing feud. 

As the song ended, Sukuna raised his arms in victory, soaking in the applause and cheers of his fans. He glanced over at you again, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. The crowd’s energy was palpable as they chanted Sukuna’s name, and you could feel the shift in the air—an unspoken understanding that this battle was far from over. 

You turned to your bandmates, a determined gleam in your eyes. “He’s got moves, no doubt about it. But we’ve got our own plans. Let’s give him something he won’t forget.”

══════════════════

YOU AGREED TO MEET UP IN HIS STUDIO. After all, you had a key to his studio. One of only two people, besides his manager. The echo of the door clicking shut behind you was the only sound in the dimly lit room.  The minute you stepped inside, a familiar hand grabbed your waist, spinning you around with a rough but playful urgency. You couldn’t help but feel adrenaline rush through you.

You looked up to see Ryomen Sukuna’s smirk inches from your face, his eyes dancing with mischief. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as he lets his attention stuck on you for a little while longer. He’d just gotten here after a long schedule today, that you knew. But he just couldn’t pass up this moment. He missed you, after all.

“You’ve really done it now, baby doll.” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "That track? You know it’s all anyone is talking about. Got my fans in a frenzy, and I can't say I'm not impressed."

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck. “Wasn’t that the plan?” you whispered back, feeling his grip tighten possessively around your waist. “To keep everyone on their toes? To keep you on your toes?”

Sukuna’s smirk softened into something a little darker, a little more heated. “Oh, you’ve got me on my toes alright, baby doll.” he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?”

You shivered at the feel of his breath against your skin, but you didn’t back down. “And you love every second of it, darling.” you shot back, daring him with your eyes. “Admit it, Sukuna. You like it when I push your buttons.”

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a thrill through you. “Maybe I do, baby doll.” he admitted, nipping playfully at your earlobe. “Maybe I love watching you act all tough out there, throwing shade at me like you mean it. Gets my blood pumping.”

You tilted your head back, grinning up at him. “You think you’re the only one who gets a thrill out of this? Watching you strut around on stage, pretending you’re so unaffected…” You traced a finger along his jawline, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. “I know better. I see how you watch me.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening. “Oh, you’ve got no idea what I think when I’m up there, you know.” he growled, his lips brushing against yours, the air between you charged with electricity. “No idea how much I want to drag you off that stage and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, fierce and demanding, pouring every bit of the adrenaline still buzzing through your veins into the press of your lips against his. He responded instantly, kissing you back with a hunger that made your knees weak, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there was no space left between your bodies.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, panting slightly, foreheads resting against each other. “I knew you’d enjoy it, our little roleplay.” you whispered, your lips brushing his with every word. “I knew you’d love playing this game.”

Sukuna laughed softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Oh, it’s more than just a game, baby doll.” he murmured. “It’s our foreplay.” He grinned wickedly, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Every line, every taunt, every verse… just getting me more worked up for moments like this.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned into his touch, your smile matching his. “So… what’s next?” you asked, teasingly. “Another diss track? Or are we moving on to something a little more… physical?”

He chuckled again, his lips brushing yours in the faintest of kisses. “Both, baby doll.” he whispered. “Always both. I’ll keep you on your toes, and you keep me guessing. That’s how this works, right?”

You nodded, feeling the thrill of his words spark through you. “You already know it well, darling.” you grinned at him, pulling him closer for another kiss, deeper this time, more intense. 

Because behind all the public drama, the mock insults, the fan wars and the staged battles, there was something real—a chemistry, a connection, that neither of you could resist. No one else knows, and they didn’t have to. Because that’s what makes it fun, that’s what gets you hot, high for him. 

This elaborate game of rivals was just another way for you and Sukuna to both express that pull, that irresistible need to keep challenging each other, to keep pushing each other’s buttons in every way possible. And you knew, as he did, that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As Sukuna’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with a fervent intensity, you felt the world around you blur into a haze of desire and adrenaline. His hands roamed possessively over your body, each touch a reminder of the raw, unfiltered connection that existed between you.

The heat of his skin, the firm grip of his hands, and the way he pressed you closer only heightened the sensation that this was more than just a physical encounter—it was an embodiment of the fierce rivalry and undeniable attraction that had been building between you two.

The way his fingers traced your curves, his touch both commanding and tender, spoke volumes. It was as if he was claiming you, not just in the heat of the moment but in a way that was deeply intertwined with the ongoing battle of wits and passion you both were engaged in. The contrast between his rough, assertive touch and the gentle caresses created a whirlwind of emotions, each sensation adding to the already charged atmosphere.

As you pull back slightly, your breaths mingling, Sukuna’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes dark with a mix of satisfaction and challenge. His smirk, still present, held a promise of more to come—more battles, more games, and an unspoken agreement that this was only the beginning of an exhilarating journey. For a moment, you think you fell in love deeper with him again.

The gradual approach of his fingertips was a slow, tantalizing tease, each moment stretched out with the deliberate pace of someone who knew exactly how to build anticipation. You could feel the heat from his touch even before his fingers made full contact, the mere thought of what was to come causing your breath to hitch and your body to respond eagerly.

As his fingers inched closer, their warmth and the promise of what lay ahead created a growing sense of urgency and need. The gentle caress of his fingertips, as they brushed against your inner thighs, was both intimate and assertive, a clear indication of his intent. The friction was electric, a stark contrast to the cool air around you, amplifying every sensation as his touch grew more purposeful.

You could feel his breath against your skin, each exhale sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, locked onto yours with an intense focus, conveyed both a challenge and a deep-seated desire. The way he watched you, his gaze dark and smoldering, only added to the overwhelming allure of the moment.

His fingers finally made contact with your womanhood, the touch both delicate and firm, exploring with a confident familiarity. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation as his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles, teasing and testing. Each stroke was designed to elicit a response, to push you further into a state of heightened arousal.

A satisfied smirk curled on Sukuna’s lips, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of pride and desire. “You know it don’t you, hm?” he growled, his voice rough with arousal. “No one else can touch you like this, no one else can make you feel what I do.”

His words were a taunt and a promise, each thrust a reminder of the exclusive, raw connection between you. “You need this, don’t you?” he continued, his voice low and seductive. “You need me to push you, to make you feel every inch of me.”

Your breath hitched, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a moan slipped from your lips. He was relentless, and he knew it, his movements intentional and powerful, his gaze never leaving yours. 

“Admit it, baby doll.” Sukuna demanded, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Admit that no one else can make you feel this way.”

You bit back a moan, your head tilting back as you fought for control, but the way he looked at you, the way he moved against you—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. “You… you’re so full of yourself, darling.” you managed to gasp, though the quiver in your voice betrayed how much he was getting to you.

Sukuna chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe.” he murmured, his lips grazing your neck, his teeth nipping at your pulse. “But you like that about me, don’t you? You like the way I take control… the way I make you lose yourself.”

As Sukuna’s breath grew heavier, mingling with yours, he leaned in closer, the heat of his body was all too much for you. His eyes, locked onto yours, held a smoldering intensity that combined both dominance and a profound passion. The teasing brush of his fingers, so close to your most intimate area, sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery need that built with every second.

When you finally released a groan escaping your lips, you held him tightly, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Sukuna’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and approval.

“You really get a load of it when it’s good, don’t you?” he teased, his voice low and filled with a playful edge. His tone was both confident and affectionate, the snicker that followed underscoring the satisfaction he felt in having pushed you to such a heightened state.

Sukuna’s words hung in the air, a provocative mix of satisfaction and challenge. His fingers continued their gentle, lingering caress, prolonging the aftershocks of your release. The smirk on his face was unmistakable—a blend of triumph and deep-seated affection that he only reserved for moments like these.

“You know, baby doll..." he said, his voice softening to a more intimate tone. “it’s not just about getting a reaction. It’s about knowing how much you need this—how much you crave every bit of it.” His hand moved with deliberate, gentle strokes, still teasing, ensuring that the aftermath was as intense as the build-up.

You looked up at him, breathless and flushed, meeting his gaze with a mix of desire and exhaustion. The connection between you two felt palpable, a mix of competition and passion that seemed to define every interaction.

“Is that so?” you managed to reply, your voice hoarse but laced with playful defiance. “And what makes you think you’re the only one who can bring me to that edge?”

Sukuna’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his lips curving into an even broader smile. “Oh, I don’t think I’m the only one. But I do like to think that I’m the best at it. There’s something about our… little games that just makes everything so much more exhilarating.”

He pulled you closer, his breath warm against your ear. “And you love it. Every second of it. The highs, the lows, the rivalry... it’s all part of the thrill.”

You shivered at his words, the heat of his body and the intimacy of the moment amplifying the connection between you. His touch was a constant reminder of the dynamic between you two—a blend of passion, competition, and mutual desire that made every encounter both electrifying and deeply personal.

As the intensity of the moment began to wane, Sukuna’s touch softened, and he held you close, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The playful glint in his eyes remained, but there was also a deeper sense of satisfaction, as if the night had cemented something unspoken between you two.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep this up, you know?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

He starts to emphasize his words, his voice low and commanding, as he enters you with a slow, deliberate thrust that sends a shudder through your entire body. Each movement is precise, calculated, as if he wants to draw out every sensation, making sure you feel the intensity of him.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens reflexively, your nails scraping against his skin, leaving faint trails in their wake. The contact seems to please him, a low, almost primal growl escaping from his throat, vibrating through his chest and into yours.

The warmth between you both intensifies, the heat of the moment engulfing you. It’s stifling, but you crave more of it, each moment more consuming than the last. Your mind, once racing with scattered thoughts, is now empty, surrendered entirely to the sensations overwhelming you.

Every nerve is alive, tuned to the rhythm of his body against yours. As Sukuna pushes deeper, your world narrows to the singular, undeniable reality of him filling you completely. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, and you’re lost in the sheer intensity of it. All that exists is him, inside you, and the way your body responds to every movement he makes.

“Say it, baby doll.” he insisted, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to send a sharp thrill through you. “Say you need me.”

Your heart pounded with thunderous applause, and for a moment, you hesitated, the words caught in your throat. But the way he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper, pulled the confession from your lips.

“I… I need you, darling.” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your body arching against his, craving more. “I need you, Sukuna. All of you.”

A satisfied grin spread across his face, his hold on you tightening as he captured your lips in a fierce, claiming kiss. “That’s right.” he murmured against your mouth, his voice thick with desire. “Only me. Always me.”

And with that, he moved with renewed intensity, each deep thrust and touch a declaration, a challenge, a promise that you were his—and that no one else could ever come close to what the two of you had. He was good, he was good at making you feel like this. 

His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your shoulders, down the curve of your spine—each kiss a mark, a reminder that this, whatever it was between you, was uniquely yours. Every gasp, every moan he drew from you only seemed to fuel him more, his movements becoming more fervent, more determined to prove his point.

And you couldn’t help but revel in it—the way he knew your body, the way he knew exactly how to drive you to the edge and pull you back, just to see the need in your eyes grow stronger.

“You love it, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “You love the way I make you feel… the way I take you apart and put you back together again.”

You could only nod, lost in the rhythm of his movements, the intensity of his gaze, the heat that built between you. Because he was right—there was something about the way he touched you, the way he pushed you, that no one else could ever replicate. And in that moment, with his hands on your skin and his voice in your ear, you knew that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

He continued with a deliberate rhythm, his movements precise and relentless. You could feel the intensity building, every touch and motion sending waves of sensation coursing through you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mix of pleasure and the sheer force of his actions. He always knew how to push you to the edge, how to test your limits, and tonight was no different.

Each thrust was a carefully measured challenge, a dance of dominance and submission that left you breathless, gasping for air yet craving more. The friction between you was electric, sparking and crackling like a live wire, building with every moment until you felt like you might burst from the sheer pressure of it.

Sukuna’s eyes never left yours, a dark, consuming gaze that seemed to see right through you, drinking in every reaction, every gasp and shiver. “You feel that?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. “That’s what happens when you get me riled up and excited, baby doll.”

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat, your body trembling under his touch. He was relentless, every motion a reminder of his strength, his intensity, and the unique connection that bound you together. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, the kind of sensation that left you dizzy and reeling, your heart pounding in your chest.

But beneath the raw physicality, there was something more—a deep, unspoken understanding, a bond that neither of you could deny. His touch wasn’t just about possession or power; it was about claiming you in a way that no one else ever could. And in his eyes, you could see the same need reflected back at you, a hunger that matched your own.

“Tell me, baby doll.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Tell me you feel it too.”

“I feel it, darling.” you whispered, your voice breaking with the intensity of the moment, your hands gripping his arms as if anchoring yourself to him. “I always feel it… with you.”

A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze softening for just a moment, a flicker of something almost tender beneath the heat. “Good, good…” he said softly. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now… not ever.”

And with those words, he moved with renewed determination, his hands tightening on your hips, his body pressing closer, as if trying to fuse the two of you together. The rhythm between you became more frantic, more desperate, as if neither of you could get enough, as if the very air between you was charged with the electricity of everything left unsaid.

The world around you faded, until there was nothing but him—his touch, his voice, his breath against your skin. And in that moment, you knew that whatever games you played in public, whatever battles you waged on stage, nothing could compare to this. To the way he made you feel, to the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch, you surrendered to the sensation, letting it take you over completely, knowing that with Sukuna, you would always find yourself right back where you belonged—in his arms, in his gaze, lost in the heat of this dangerous, undeniable connection.

Your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, a rhythm known only to the two of you. Sukuna’s grip tightened, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of his presence, his power. His breath was hot against your neck, each word he whispered sending a fresh wave of heat through your veins.

"You're mine. Only mine." he murmured against your ear, his voice thick with conviction. "No one else gets to have this… to have you like this." His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone both thrilling and comforting in its intensity.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark desire and something deeper—something that made your heart clench in your chest. "You think anyone else could handle you?" he taunted, a sly grin spreading across his lips. "Handle us?"

You couldn’t help but smile back, despite the breathless state he had you in. "N–no one." you managed to reply, your voice a whisper, yet full of certainty. "No one else would even come close. Only you.”

His grin widened at your words, his eyes lighting up with that familiar mix of pride and satisfaction. "Damn right." he said, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, almost tender gesture before capturing them in a fierce kiss. “Only me.”

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, the air between you charged with an intensity that was almost palpable. "We could do this forever, you know," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his expression suddenly serious. "Keep pretending, keep pushing each other… but you and I both know the truth."

You looked up at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. "And what's that truth, Sukuna?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. "That no matter what happens on stage, no matter what anyone else thinks… this is real. What we have… it’s real."

For a moment, all the bravado, all the games, all the theatrics fell away, and it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of something deeper, something more profound. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of rightness settling in your bones. "Yeah, of course." you whispered back, your hand finding its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "It’s real."

And as his lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, you knew that whatever this was—rivalry, love, obsession—it was something you wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Because with Sukuna, every line blurred, every touch sparked, and every word spoken between you felt like the beginning of a song only the two of you knew the lyrics to.

A song that, no matter how many verses you added, would never truly end.

══════════════════

epilogue 

The social media buzz had been relentless since the rivalry between you and Sukuna had begun. Fans and media alike were glued to every update, eagerly dissecting every new development in your ongoing feud. It was a carefully crafted spectacle, each move calculated for maximum impact. But what came next was entirely unexpected.

Sukuna was known for his bold, often controversial social media presence, but this latest post took things to a whole new level.

The photo he shared was striking and intimate—a mirror selfie in which Sukuna stood with his back to the camera, his muscular body on full display. In front of him, you were barely visible, your form concealed mostly by his arm, his body strategically positioned to cover you. The image was provocative, suggesting an intimacy that had never been publicly acknowledged before.

The caption, simple yet loaded, read: “My baby doll likes excitement.”

The post exploded across the internet. Fans, already used to the charged tension between you two, were stunned into silence before erupting into a frenzy of speculation and excitement. The comments section was a whirlwind of reactions, from shock to adoration, as people tried to make sense of this unexpected revelation.

At first, there was a stunned silence from your side. You were sitting in your living room, scrolling through your feed, when you saw the post. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the image and the caption. The boldness of it was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Minutes later, your phone buzzed with notifications. Your own social media accounts were flooded with messages, your fans reaching out with a mix of curiosity and support. Some were confused, others were jubilant, but everyone was talking about it.

You decided it was time to respond, and you crafted a post that acknowledged the new development without backing down from the playful rivalry. You shared a photo from one of your concerts, the stage lights casting a dramatic glow.

Your hands were littering towards his naked chest while you were dressed on your stage outfit. He came to visit you and well....had fun in your waiting room. You added a caption: “Guess Sukuna’s not the only one who likes a little excitement. See you on stage, my darling.”

Sukuna’s reaction was swift and equally bold. He replied to your post with a comment: “Looking forward to it. Let’s see who can keep the audience more entertained.”

The exchange between you two set the internet alight. The combination of intimacy and competition only fueled the frenzy, turning your personal revelation into the hottest topic of the moment.

Behind the scenes, the two of you found solace in the chaos, a private celebration of your bold move. When you next met, the atmosphere was charged with a new kind of excitement. 

Sukuna greeted you with a grin that spoke volumes. “Well, that certainly stirred things up, hm?” he said, pulling you into a fierce hug.

You laughed, your heart racing with the thrill of it all. “You’ve got that right.” you replied, looking up at him with a smile. “But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Ready for the next round?”

You looked into his eyes, a mix of challenge and affection in your gaze. “Always.” you whispered back. And with that, you both knew that whatever came next, it would be just as exhilarating and unpredictable as the ride you were already on.

[runaeveena]

i give you the band of brothers character iceberg inspired by [x]

full detailing under the cut

Tier 1, signified by a stock image photo of an old man sitting on a bench with the words "Why don't you watch some TV with your ol' peepaw?" next to him.

- Winters, Nixon, Speirs, Compton, Luz, Lipton, Sobel, Roe

- this is the most basic tier. these are the characters your stepdad in the military remembers from watching the show after his tour or what your high school history teacher knows. hell this is what jimmy fallon remembers from the show.

Tier 2, signified by a screenshot of two 10+ old youtube videos entitled "Band of Brothers Funniest Moments"

- Guarnere, Webster, Malarkey, Liegbott, Toye, Randleman, Heffron, Blithe, Perconte

- this tier shows youve seen the show more than once, also best characterized by my college friend who would show me these videos as soon as i mentioned i liked bob despite the fact that he didnt actually know anything about world war two

Tier 3, signified by a tweet found here that basically makes fun of the current 101st Airborne

- Muck, Talbert, Dike, Grant, Sisk, Wynn, Sink, Powers, Hoobler, Welsh, Spina, Garcia, Penkala, Hall

- this is entering true fandom territory. youve seen the show more than five times or interact with enough bob content to pick up other characters. or youre an obsessed military official who uses bob as propaganda to stir up the current airborne infantry

Tier 4, signified by a screenshot of the Band of Brothers reddit tag

- O'Keefe, Tipper, Meehan, Cobb, More, Heyliger, Janovec, Gordon, Evans, Strayer, Christenson, Peacock, Miller, Hashey

- you are actually genuinely unfortunately a deep fan of this show and you are forever marked

Tier 5, signified by the tumblr tag #hbo war

- Ramirez, Alley, Vest, McClung, Shames, Dukeman, Van Klinken, Julian, Lorraine, Plesha, Petty

- hi girlies ;)

Tier 6 and 7, signified by the front page of the Band of Brothers fandom wiki page

- Smith Jr., Zielinski, Lesniewksi

- Boyle, Rodgers, Mellet

- as stated in my little notes, if you're an admin for the bob fandom wikia you have more power than anyone in the world like the level of imdb searching this requires is more harrowing than actual war

Tier 8, signified by a screenshot of the Stephen E. Ambrose Austria tours with Band of Brothers casts, a screenshot of Matthew Leitch's reunion youtube with other actors, and the Dead Eyes Podcast cover

- the other Zielinski

- you know way to much to be a weird fan

Tier 9, signified by a stock image of a pile of books

- Burr Smith

- you are a scholar

[nicole-ashwood]

Double Exposure: A guide on how we make them pay and the signs that will show it's working

Yes, I know a lot of the hate is going to Deck Nine, and believe me some of that is deserved. But ultimately Square has final Veto power and dictates where the story goes thanks to studio mandates.

Either way, this first part is how we focus our own power and make the bastards fix this. You want change? Here's a guide.

Do not buy ANY more Life is Strange products. Corporate bastards only pay attention to cash flow. Hit their wallets.

If you have self control and decent writing skills, leave a review on Metacritic. Praise what works (Hannah, some of the writing, the inklings of a background plot revolving around an evil future Max), and damn everything else.

Everyone else? Try and do the same on Steam. Just make sure you have enough playtime (~30 min - 1 hour) so people will be more aware. Quality doesn't matter on Steam so much as the Community Score.

Attack the story and writing choices, not the cast and writers. Bosses exist for a reason, focus your fire if you plan on referencing anyone.

Do not dox, send death threats, or do ANYTHING that they can use to justify your dismissal. You want this fixed, don't stoop to their level.

If you can, vote in any game awards the series appears in. Hannah has another game on the way, we'll make sure she gets her proper praises then.

Get your opinions where they matter. Instagram, TikToc, Reddit, and Twitter are where the search algorithms look. Make sure people know how bad they fucked up here.

Return the game if you can, and just watch Let's Plays. Bleed them dry.

This game will only sell if we aren't loud enough. Games are expensive. Your average buyer will still look up reviews and scores before they pop down a 50.

You want change? Don't say it's hopeless and get to work.

You die when you lose hope, and if anything I at least plan on taking as big a chunk out of them as possible before then.

And now for signs we need to keep an eye out for.

Anonymous Employee leaks and what tone they are going with. If the leaks show us things like Arcadia Bay, character returns, or anything else that gives us a hint to the plot taking place in AB, those are good signs.

Keep an eye on anyone who might return, and what their upcoming work is. Rhianna/Chloe has the mystery Lead and is our best clue, but the actors for Joyce, David, Victoria, Steph, Alex, and Ryan are all people we need to keep an eye out for. If they plan on bringing in LiS 2, then keep an eye out for Daniel's actor. He is the only one who could really return.

Watch for updates to the Remasters and series wide collectors editions. Square is going to milk the shit out of any capstone game, and this is where they'll do it.

Look for collabs that feature Max AND Chloe. Those will be meant to keep the series fresh in peoples minds up until 2027/early 2028 (assuming the tweet screenshot I posted previously continues to be true).

Books that highlight Chloe's view will probably be on the way soon. A lot of the stuff we've seen regarding Chloe in this game points to them revising what they originally wrote so Chloe appeared less toxic then originally wanted (yes, I just heaved when I wrote that). These books will continue to soften her, and ensure that she is single for the next game. Yeah, I fully expect the next game to ape the theme of restoring bonds from the first.

Keep an eye on their LinkedIn. As of this writing, they have 101 employees, half of which are artists and designers. Expect that number to increase come January. The finance report for this game will be out by then, and Square will probably pour more cash into D9 to hasten the next games release.

This series can be salvaged. It needs to be salvaged, if anything because it's the loudest voice gaming has for those who are marginalized. This series, in our current hellworld, is too damn important to end on some bullshit pivot like this, but it's only going to make it if we force their hands ourselves.

If you are a fan.

If you care about LGBTQ+ issues.

If you want to help those who feel alone and without anything to look up to in life.

Then by the Gods you damn well better do your part.

[rrxnjun]

portrait of a blank slate. huang renjun

pairing: huang renjun x fem! reader genre: college au. fluff, smut, and the tiniest bit of angst. warnings: swearing, alcohol, angry man renjun, very bad dialogue, this is the most un-renjun fic i've ever written, dry humping, a heavy makeout session, unfinished blowjob word count: 5.8k playlist: no specific one this time but i listened to a lot of keshi while writing this, so have this playlist of mine to fit the vibes a/n: inspired by that one tweet describing how someone's art professor met his wife the same exact way, lost the screenshot and also the og post im so sorry!

turns out all it takes to save a life is a bad, bad college party, a few shots and a weird, magical coincidence back in a girl's dorm room.

It’s hard to believe that Huang Renjun is currently finishing up the art portfolio he needs for his summer internship program after procrastinating and angrily stomping at every single bad stroke of his paintbrush for the last few months.

Because he’s not.

He’s looking at the canvas with stern eyes, the smudges on the white linen so messy he could cry just by looking at them, and the more he tries to save the disgrace currently scribbled in front of him, the worse it gets and makes the levels of frustration in him turn into rage and fury, because let’s be honest– what is Renjun’s primary emotion if not anger. 

And he tries hard to fix it again, he really does– he sighs heavily while doing so as he takes a smaller brush and tries to paint on a few hairstrokes to the portrait of Frida Kahlo he wants to execute– and in honest reality, it doesn’t even look half as bad as it does in the poor boy’s eyes when he takes a step back after holding in his breath and carefully piercing together the artwork. Maybe if there was someone else in the room– everyone but his annoying roommate Donghyuck, because that fucker always manages to make things even worse– they could talk him out of it, offer some words of consolidation, even, hype him up and tell him that with outsider’s eyes, the canvas looks beautiful and very well put together. But the truth is that there’s no one present right now, not a single soul in what feels like the whole campus right now, that could ease Huang Renjun’s frustration from what seems to be art block, when he throws the paintbrush to the wall (he’ll worry about the stain of acrylic paint later, when he gains consciousness) and puts a fist through the middle of the painting.

If he was a character in a comic book, his hand would go through the canvas and create a quite satisfying hole. He’s a real person, though– a weak one as well, to be quite honest– and his fist is stopped by the stretched-out fabric, making his hand bounce back, but now stained with all shades of brown and tan, which somehow only makes him even more mad and turns him into a furious animal roaming around free and causing uttermost chaos in his all true sense.

Nothing can stop Huang Renjun when he opens the drawer he keeps all his artwork in, taking out all the graphite sketches and colored pencil drawings, and then the next one containing the watercolor paintings and various other acrylic paintings done on expensive sheets of paper, stacking all of those onto one pile in the middle of the table. Not one thing is safe– except from the digital artworks he keeps in his iPad and his big A4 sketchbook he forgot about in the heat of the moment, since he keeps it on his nightstand– when he takes the big, heavy stack of art and runs, chimes towards the entrance of his and Donghyuck’s miniature dorm room, luck only standing by his side once in this whole evening when his said roommate opens the door and clears the way for him, looking at the poor boy with mouth agape in a slight shock.

“What the fuck are you doing right n–”

Donghyuck doesn’t get an answer. When he asks stupid questions, Renjun doesn’t tend to pay him much mind, settling on not engaging with the discourse if it doesn’t make much sense, so Hyuck should be used to the ignorance– he thinks this was a very valid question to ask at this moment, though. If he was curious enough, he’d even follow his roommate down the hall and watch him in his endeavors only to find out what’s the intention behind his angry stomping and the fierce look on his face. The truth is, though, he doesn’t care all that much.

That doesn’t stop Huang Renjun, though, as he chimes down the hall of the boy’s dormitory, kicks the glass door open (thankfully not the actual glass part, because that would for sure be expensive) and practically runs the rest of the way towards the bins at the end of the street, dumping the papers into the bin (forgive him for not recycling in his current state of mind) before he angrily kicks the poor object twice for good measure and turns on his heel, slowly, but still as angrily making his way back to his dorm room by stomping all the way up until the entrance.

The dorm guard doesn’t even ask for his dorm ID like he usually does– Renjun must have been quite memorable as he ran out of the building with 5kg of artwork of various sizes in his arms– but the truth is, the man isn’t as old and he saw the boy going out just a few minutes ago, so he doesn’t think it’s necessary. Renjun would appreciate the memo, although, when he remembers that the man always asks for the dorm ID, especially on the nights out when he comes back slightly intoxicated and too disoriented to look for the little slip of paper in his pockets, and on the nights when he forgets his dorm ID as well– the man was set on letting him sleep on the front porch of the dormitory once and it took Renjun 15 calls to get ahold of a sleeping Donghyuck and another 15 of him walking down the hall in slippers and pajama bottoms with his roommate’s dorm ID in hand before he could warm his bones from the cold slowly seeping into his bones on the January night– and that whole thing makes Renjun somehow even more angry at the whole situation.

And so when he comes into his room again, Donghyuck now sitting on his bed still in his outside clothes (something Renjun hates and would murder for), and his eyes land on the damaged canvas still waiting for him in the corner of the room, he wastes no time in opening his window and throwing it down from the second floor, not really caring where it ends up or if he’s gonna get a fine for violating one of the dormitory rules– to never throw stuff out of the windows..

“Dude, what is–”

“Don’t ask.” Renjun huffs as he closes the door and peels his clothes off, taking a towel that’s still hanging from the top bunk of their bed and aims towards the bathroom door. A true tantrum can only end in a cold shower, and that’s what Renjun’s gonna do as he washes his dreams down the drain and ends up silently crying himself to sleep tonight in agony.

It’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party since the days of ‘megaparties’ of Johnny Suh, the senior that’s slowly halting his party performance due to stilling in life. Renjun was dragged to Lee Jeno’s party by his roommate Donghyuck after he mourned in his bed for approximately two days before it got too much for the poor gemini, promising and honestly thinking that alcohol is truly the best solution for the poor boy’s misery. Again, it’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party of the year when he listens to the loud EDM music piercing through his eardrums and he swears he catches a glimpse of a couple dry humping on the couch.

Because he’s not.

He’s at a college party, sure. He’s also getting some alcohol into his system– because why not, am I right? He’s not the one paying, and that’s always enough of a reason to drink. Is it the best college party he’s ever experienced, though? Absolutely not.

It’s quite literally the worst party he’s ever been to. The music is too loud and the whole house smells of cheap vodka, people are pushing each other around and with the amount of alcohol in his system, the whole room feels like he’s on a boat, his stomach weak and his eyes hazy. Renjun must admit Hyuck’s therapy skills are kind of paying off– because at least now he’s not thinking about the wasted opportunity of a summer scholarship and is instead looking into the eyes of his cute classmate from History class across the room– but at the same time, he’s not thinking much of anything in this moment, and the glint of your eyes is the only thing he can focus on when you get closer.

That might be a good or a bad thing– depends on how the encounter goes. There’s a fine line between the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to get rid of his usual shyness and speak to other, much more attractive human species, and the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to black out and puke on the floor, efficiently making it impossible for him to chat up the cute classmate he’s been eyeing the whole semester and ruining his chances of ever being seen in a good light in front of the said person ever again. He prays intensely that he hasn’t crossed the line yet when you open your mouth and speak to him in the crowded kitchen.

“Renjun!”

“Y/N!” he tries to mimic your tone, a flashy grin settling onto his face when you approach him first. You two aren’t strangers, after all– you’ve sat together in class during various exams and also accidentally bumped into each other in the cafeteria, but what were your courageous attempts in making conversation with him and efficiently trying to make him more interested in you didn’t lead to your desired goal of getting invited out by him, instead leading him to think you’re just that friendly to everyone and not just him, making the chances of him taking the next step that much slimmer. Not tonight, though– he really must have had too much to drink.

“How are you?” you ask, clearing your throat as you bump into someone and decide to shift closer to Renjun, making the boy’s breathing hitch in his throat.

“Wonderful,” he gasps, and for some reason, the response laced in irony makes an excited laugh escape your throat, and the more he listens to your bubbly giggle, the more he wishes he did music instead of fine arts, because maybe if he was competent enough, he could mimic the sound in one of his songs and replay it over and over even when you’re not around. 

“That sounds very genuine,” you note, which makes the boy laugh in return, making him wonder if maybe he could have the same effect on you– if you’re smiling wider now because of the sound of his laughter, or if you’re just amused at something completely else. 

It’s pathetic, really– the gloomy boy that was trailing to this party behind his roommate Donghyuck is nowhere to be seen now, instead replaced by the cheap imitation of a ray of sunshine that you brought out of him only with the magic of a few words and the few drops of alcohol on his tongue.

“Oh, trust me, it was genuine,” he teases, and you only nod to his attempt at masking his obviously saddened composure from before.

“Having a rough week?” you ask, and you sound truly interested– something Renjun hasn’t found in the tone of his roommate when he insisted on dragging him here– and maybe that’s the reason why he just shrugs and decides to come clean and be honest with you. You seem like that kind of person that wouldn’t make fun of his troubles, the kind of person that would genuinely want to help– although he’s not seeking counseling tonight, he figures he can talk a bit about his shitty mood if it means that it gets the conversation flowing.

“A rough life, actually,” he snickers before he sees you eye him with a concerned look, “just joking,” he adds before he retracks back and fixes his initial answer. “Some things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to, so I’m kind of moping around for a bit.”

You seem to feel empathetic towards the boy, nodding and pouting at his confession. “Well, I hope things get fixed for you, Jun,” you mumble, tone of voice encouraging– and maybe he could dwell at the caring nature of you a little longer, only if it wasn’t for your use of a nickname for him that just oh so sweetly rolls of your tongue and Renjun wishes he could legally change his name to the nickname so he could listen to the way it sounds forever– scratch that, to the way it sounds from your mouth forever, which means he won’t change it, just so it’s reserved for you and only you to say.

“What about you, though?” he finds himself asking in the midst of his inner screeching.

“Me? I’m great, totally fine, having the time of my life,” you emphasize, the over-the-top expression on your face making the boy burst into laughter as you wave your arms around as if to show him your surroundings. “I am a party person for sure, you know, so this is perfect,” you joke, and Renjun seems to get the memo. If he’s being honest, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you at a party before– not that he goes to many himself, which might honestly be the reason, actually– you could just be at different parties in different times that hadn’t overlaid, but by the way you’re currently tensely sipping at the alcohol in your hand, he figures you’re not too familiar with the scene of college partying.

“Who forced you to go? Was it your roommate?” Renjun remembers the girl from another one of his classes– you two were always walking around together and often got to class at the same time. Figuring out that you two lived together wasn’t as difficult, and she surely seems to be the more extroverted one.

“No, actually,” you say, eyes glimmering when he seems to remember the girl you share a room with, “to my surprise, honestly. It was another one of my friends– Na Jaemin, not sure if you know him– but the moment we got here, he disappeared and left me alone to deal with my thoughts,” you click your tongue and Renjun finds himself totally mesmerized with you– amazed with everything about you; the way you talk, the way you lean on the counter and watch him with stars in your eyes (which might just be the reflections of the kitchen lights, but don’t tell him that), the way you slightly lean into him when he cracks a joke and earns a laugh out of you…

“They always do that,” Renjun scowls, “they drag the introvert in and then force them to survive on their own…” he shakes his head in disappointment, clearly distraught over the situation. 

“Exactly! But if you ask them to come with you to a picnic, or to the library, they decline the offer. So much for being good friends,” you roll your eyes. Renjun finds himself smiling, and although he must admit that as every other college student, he himself would decline an invitation to a library if anyone asked, he’s like 99% certain that if it was you uttering out the question, he wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before joyfully jogging there with you. 

“Ask me next time,” he blurts out, a poor attempt at flirting, “I wouldn’t say no.”

And it seems like tonight is the night where you suddenly get the last kick of courage needed when you talk to Renjun– maybe fueled by his coy smile when he said the previous comment, maybe just acting out on pure hormones– tonight's the night where he breathlessly takes your offer, still not thinking much of it, but igniting a curious spark in his own heart nonetheless, when you scratch the back of your neck in the last residue of anxiety, scrunching your nose at him and mumbling under your nose, barely heard above the loud music resonating through the living room. “Do you wanna sneak into my dorm room, then?” 

Renjun almost chokes at your question– visitors in the dormitory are only allowed until midnight and as far as he’s aware, the clock is well after 2 AM right now, and he’s a male visitor, which is even more off the bounds in the eyes of the fierce woman guarding the entrance of the girl’s dormitory building. The more he stares at you, the more you seem to translate his silence into disagreement, which you panically try to undo with even more rambling. “I- I mean, since we both kind of hate this party and I think that if I drink more, I’m going to puke all over myself, so… My room is on the ground floor, so you can just climb in, if you wanted to. My roommate went home for the weekend, so there’s no one there, and we could– I mean, we don’t have to, honestly, but it’s kinda cold out and I thought we could both use a place more silent, ‘cause I really wanna head back now, but I don’t want to stop talking to you, y’know, and I don’t know if–”

“Okay, I’m down,” Renjun nods, efficiently shutting up your rambling, and when there’s a very apparent relief flashing over your face, he finds himself smiling in endearance at your antics, going as far as ruffling a hand through your hair in whatever kick the alcohol mixed with adrenaline gave him before you have him dragging his feet out of the house, both of your feet shuffling towards the campus.

The walk isn’t long, but he finds himself enjoying it. The condensation coming out of your mouths at the chilly weather serves more to the atmosphere when the both of you giggle out at absurd jokes and gossip, your voice breaking into soft hums when you sing a song under your breath in moments of silence that somehow feel both kind of awkward, but also kind of pleasant. He drags you by your hand to the other side of the sidewalk when a car passes by and you jump in surprise, eyes wide and glossy, mouth a little agape in an open-mouthed grin when his fingers stay intertwined with yours and you adjust your purse on your other shoulder, clearing your throat before you try to nonchalantly continue on with the conversation.

“I’ll go inside now,” you announce when you get to the girl’s dormitory building, breaking apart from the eager boy and coming closer to him when you confide the secret, “I’ll turn the light on in my room when I get there, so make sure to look out for the window. I’ll help you in, don’t worry,” you smile at him, and before he has a chance to reply, you disappear behind the glass door with a pep in your step. 

Renjun finds himself sighing– now is the moment when he should realistically get relief, the moment when he’s supposed to relax for at least a second and prepare himself for whatever might happen in your dorm room– but when he slowly walks over to the left wing of the building and squints at the dark squares of windows, he wonders how in the hell he’s gonna climb in. Escaping out will be an easy task– the windows aren’t that high up– but coming in will be the problem. He guesses it’s the same with the whole situation– he bets the easiest part of the whole evening will be jumping out and running to his own room– how to survive the night in your presence and not go completely insane, he doesn’t know and wishes he had a manual to before he agreed to do this in the first place.

When the light goes on in one of the rooms and you wave at him from the inside, he finds himself involuntarily jogging towards the window, gears in his brain turning faster than the speed of light when he reaches the wall and you grin at him, opening the window and offering him your hand. 

“If you grip the edge of the window and give me your hand, you can get in easily,” you say, watching as the boy cautiously looks around himself and scratches the back of his neck, mentally calculating his next movements.

“Have you done this before?”

“No,” you bashfully shake your head, “but my roommate did it twice, so I don’t think it’s that hard,” you note and nod at him, waiting for him to finally take action. 

Renjun finds himself doing what he’s been told– and even though he huffs and almost falls over to his back (which would kill him, he thinks, since his physique is very close to a turtle’s), victory fills his veins when one of his legs finally ends up in your window, his body stumbling forward and almost toppling you over when the warmth of your room welcomes him as he lands on top of your desk. 

“Welcome,” you laugh at him when he shakes his head in disbelief and takes off his coat, dropping it on top of the wooden table and watching you close the window behind him, so the cold doesn’t get in. 

“That’s one way of inviting guests over, I guess,” he teases you, watching as you roll your eyes at him and go over to one of the beds. Renjun notices the room is different to the one he shares with Donghyuck– you and your roommate have two beds instead of a bunk one, the table is right under the window and you get a little more space over-all. You turn on the little lamp kept on your bedside table, and the boy watches you with interest as you cautiously walk around your own room as if it’s your first time seeing it, reminding him a little of a deer in the headlights, clueless and suddenly out of ideas.

Renjun finds himself laughing at your behavior– he finds himself endeared by it, the way you play with your fingers in nerves and try to think of anything to do in the intimacy that suddenly envelopes you when you invite someone over to your dorm room in the middle of the night– and when you aimlessly end up standing in front of him, your big eyes even bigger and glossier than before, he snickers at the state of you and shakes his head.

“Okay, so I know I was the one who invited you over, but now I’m kind of helpless in what we should actually do and all…” you giggle, a little embarrassed when you bear your eyes into his, your body subconsciously slotted in between his legs, his position leaning on the edge of the table allowing you and inviting you to do so. 

“You’re cute,” he laughs at you, and before you have a chance to question him about the compliment, he has you silenced abruptly by his next actions.

“What do you–”

His hand is gripping your jaw and he leans into you, the newly found courage and affection towards you having him drunk on more than the alcohol, but also your whole presence– the way your hair smells when he’s this close to you, the way you pull the sleeves of your sweater further down when you don’t know what to do with your hands, the shyness in your gaze now that you have him in your cage– and his lips act on themselves when they press themselves against yours, soft but firm, tasting the strawberry juice mixed with vodka off your mouth, a surprised gasp against his lips more than enough to invite him even further in.

He feels your fingers tugging at his shirt and your skin growing hot under his touch, leaning back from you a little and finding you looking at him with a thousand different galaxies in your eyes, enough of a confirmation to him, but he’s a man– he still needs it vocally, when he grins lazily at you. “Was this one of the things you thought about when you invited me over?”

“Maybe…” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, a clearly battled grin trying to settle its way onto your lips.

“You should’ve just said so, then,” he smiles when he leans into you again, a little more confidently this time and kisses you again, again and again.

You stay under the window for a while, lips pressed hard against each other as you try to learn the curves of each other’s mouths by memory, lazy hands threaded into his hair and an arm around your waist now, steadying you in place. Foreheads pressed against each other when you break away for air, giggles resonating through the room when his lips make their way towards your neck and the softness of his hair tickles your skin, fingers threaded when you tug him towards your bed and you watch him kick his shoes off before you follow him onto the soft mattress.

His head falls into your pillow and you straddle his lap, your hair falling into your face when you look down at him from your position, the newly found dominance in your position charging you with unexplainable energy, and Renjun can’t help but smile at you sweetly when your eyes meet and you eagerly lean down towards him, fingers once again intertwined with his, hands laying next to his head. Your breath fans his swollen lips that you once again find yourself attacking, the contact overwhelming you and making it hard to breathe. Who knows how long the both of you have wanted to do this but never had the courage to– it’s a miracle that it’s even happening tonight.

And with the built-up desire, you act instinctively– hands breaking away from his when you grip his cheeks and give him one last peck, lips now traveling down his jaw and neck instead, having the boy shivering under the contact, your actions slowly but surely driving him crazy when you find his sweet spot and you get a satisfied gasp from him, a reward for your tonight’s efforts.

His hand grips your hip, and something about the burn of his fingers even through the fabric of your jeans makes you move on instinct, earning yourself a sharper hiss this time that doesn’t make you stop, however– quite the opposite, actually– as you break into a wide grin at the very evident effect you have on him, your movements slow and painful, but still having him harden under you.

Goosebumps appear all over your skin when his cold fingers capture the skin of your stomach when he aimlessly tries to find a place in your body to ground yourself, but the more he answers to your movements, the more encouraged you get. He tugs you back down so you’re facing him, which does nothing to halt your painful pace as he drags out yet another kiss from you. 

“If we don’t stop now, it’s gonna be really hard for me to do so later,” Renjun huffs into your ear, which only gets you more excited.

“Who said I want to stop?” you ask him, fingers trailing up his side over his shirt, yet still making him fire up and flush in his cheeks. “Do you want to stop?”

“Do I look like I wanna stop?” he snickers, shaking his head in utter disbelief, hand traveling dangerously close to the cup of your breast.

“Let’s continue, then,” you muse, peeling yourself off him only the slightest amount, hands dragging themselves down his body until you reach the waistband of his pants, gently dragging the fabric down until he’s left in front of you only with a tent in his underwear, big eyes curiously and breathlessly watching you in your actions. He could be a gentleman and tell you you don’t have to, tell you to stop and come back up and that he will pleasure you first, but the more he watches you as you palm him over the thin fabric of his boxer briefs with the dangerous doe eyes of yours, the less he wants to do just that. In all reality– who is he to deny a blowjob from you? Or anyone, for that matter?

His whole body shudders under your touch, actions careful, but so painfully satisfying. Renjun watches your face with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the reality of it all sobering him up and making him aware of each shift of your body, each centimeter your fingertip travels against his skin, each motion that slowly makes a bundle of nerves appear in his stomach. It only gets too much for him when you lean on your elbows, nails gently pricking the skin of his thighs as your mouth hesitantly greets his dick, and he feels like a virgin again when his eyes peel off you just in case he finishes just by watching you blowing him off like a highschooler at his first blowjob, forcing himself to watch the ceiling instead.

Eyes traveling all over your room– the closed window opposite of him, the bed on the other side of the room, the walls above your bed– he gets lost in the galaxy drawn on a piece of paper that’s plastered right above your pillowcase, and another graphite sketch of eyes bearing right into your soul, as if they were watching him in the act, and another one, of a deer that looks through the shade of the trees, before it hits him.

“Oh my god what the fuck–” he gasps, and his tone must have sounded too different to the satisfied moans that have been spilling out of his mouth up until now, because you abruptly stop your movements and your gazes lock, your eyes completely mortified.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“Oh– Oh god no, fuck, you’re doing amazing, trust me,” apologies spill off his tongue at your distressed state, “it’s just– where… where did you get these?” he asks, pointing towards all the drawings taped all over your walls that he failed to notice in the heat of the moment before.

“Oh,” you cluelessly hum, eyebrows furrowed, “I found them spilling out of a trashcan close to the boy’s dorms when I was walking to class one morning, and they were so pretty I had to take them.”

“I– you like these?” Renjun asks, full of strange surprise and genuine curiosity. You’re now sitting back on your heels and looking at the boy with big eyes, still slightly clueless and very much in a weird state of distress– because why would a man ask you about the random artwork on your wall in the middle of a mindblowing blowjob?– before you nod with a slight pout, agreeing.

“Well, I wouldn’t have decorated my room with them if I didn’t like them, y’know… Why are you… why are you asking?”

“Oh,” Renjun repeats again, a dumbfounded look taking over his soft features before he sits up on the bed and scoots closer to you, a weird sense of euphoria spilling out every vein of his body when the held-back dopamine is released into his system. A wide grin appears on his lips before he stares into your eyes with a milky way mirroring behind his eyeballs, glittering orbs haphazardly gliding over your face before he reaches your lips again, pecking them one, two, three times before you break away and look at him with furrowed eyebrows, a slight crease right in between them.

“What are you–”

“I think I’m gonna literally cum just at hearing those words, Y/N,” he blurbs out before he kisses the tip of your nose again, completely endeared and close to a happy boy under the Christmas tree, and while you may enjoy that look on him, you’re still slightly confused. Huang Renjun sighs almost a little too dreamingly and smooths the wrinkle between your eyebrows with a careful swipe of his thumb, still not giving you any explanation.

“Renjun, I’m afraid I’m not quite following why this is so important to you right now,” you mumble, having your partner laugh airly– just as if all his worries escaped through the window and you fixed his life with a few drawings plastered on your wall.

“Those, dear Y/N,” he points towards the papers stuck to your walls, eyeing the specific one he worked for 3 hours on and kind of mourned the morning after he realized he threw it away, months of practice and art that maybe wasn’t even that bad in the first place ending up in the trash because of a fit of rage, “are all mine. Mine as in, I drew them… And then threw them out in the middle of a slight mental breakdown.”

You look at him for a few heartbeats, eye contact never breaking before you avert your gaze towards the artwork on the walls– it takes you a few seconds before it hits you– and you gasp, hurriedly looking back at the artist in front of you, stars glimmering in your eyes now as well, matching his excitement. “Oh my god, are you for real?”

“Yeah.”

“You drew all of these?”

“Yeah,” he nods again, breathless.

“This is an insane coincidence,” you snicker, and Renjun didn’t know he had it in him– maybe it’s still the effect of alcohol that slips off his tongue when he speaks– but he cages you in his arms as he kisses you again, a whole new world appearing in front of him when the cheesiness meets the comfort of your walls.

“You’d call this a coincidence?” he hums. “Maybe it was fate.”

Earning himself a sharp laugh, almost mocking him as you swat his shoulder, you fall back with him towards the mattress, and while the heated moment might be gone, you don’t mind at all. Renjun looks at you with a certain softness in his eyes, a pride swelling in his chest, and for a moment, it’s true and you truly did open up a new reality for him and changed his life forever, fixed all of his problems, if you will, because the appreciation it takes for a girl to tape up at least 20 of his messy artworks onto her wall after finding the stash in the trashcan on her way to class might just be the encouragement he needed to keep going with the craft. 

It’s hard to believe that this shitty party actually brought him somewhere– not only to your bed, but also to your life, to a beginning of something new and a restart in something he thought he’d forever be giving up on.

“So… Do you need those back? Because I kinda like them here,” you giggle, and the crinkle of his eyes is enough of an answer to you.

“You can keep them. I’ll just draw new ones you can look at,” he muses, stealing another kiss from you and squeezing your hip, having you squeal against his mouth.

“Now, to get back to what we were doing before–”

[riality-check]

crossposted from twitter because it was inspired by this tweet!

Eddie's first character is a halfling rogue: small, stealthy, built to get in and get out, maybe cause a little damage along the way. He isn't built for taking hits or maximum damage, and everyone knows that magic isn't real.

Eddie's first scar is the one on his lip, from when he took a punch from his father wrong and split it on his tooth. It probably wouldn't have scarred if Eddie left it alone, but he worried at it with his tongue until it healed shiny with scar tissue.

He learns, from the sting of eating and talking, that he shouldn't fight monsters he isn't strong enough to beat. So, he runs. Gains XP.

He's small and quiet enough to go unnoticed. He hides in the corners of libraries for hours, steals extra food from school lunch, and on the rare occasion someone decides to pick on him, that's when he swings back, scared and vicious.

He levels up, and, somewhere along the way, that character dies a quiet death in favor of one that better fits the campaign.

Somewhere between his father's arrest and starting school at Hawkins Middle, Eddie plays a new character. A tiefling sorcerer, one with bad blood on two fronts, for no one likes demons, and magic still isn't real.

Kids are cruel. They tease him for his secondhand clothes and his buzzcut (lice) and his loud hands and voice and his complete disregard for schoolwork, because if it isn't interesting, he won't do it.

Eddie takes it all, until a kid calls him a word he knows is right for him but isn't safe to be in Hawkins.

Then he puts his fist through his face.

Overnight, he goes from "weird and obnoxious" to "mean and scary," and he really, really hates how that makes him more isolated.

So, he switches gears in high school. Plays a half-elf bard, someone who's a little more than human, someone whose job it is to entertain, to make people laugh and feel right at home. He finds little lost sheep and makes them feel like they have a place to belong in his own little world.

He still has to fight sometimes, of course. Especially earlier on, he uses his fists, though he hates it. Later, when he levels up, he uses his words instead.

He doesn't know how those work. Magic isn't real.

Then Chrissy Cunningham dies in his living room, and magic is real, and it is awful and scary and cruel and fatal.

And Eddie Munson is just Eddie Munson. Not a hero, not a spellcaster, nothing special. But he can't be just Eddie Munson because that has never been enough.

In his rush, he picks his next character to be a human fighter. He has never played one before, and it feels odd and ill-fitting and wrong.

It's wrong. And Eddie forgets his first rule, the one that got him the scar on his lip, when the bats rush toward him.

He shouldn't fight monsters he isn't strong enough to beat.

He goes down, and he stays down, but the wonderful thing is that he has saving throws.

He just needs to succeed.

[thesupreme316]

Can you write how the AEW guys would react to the reader playfully smacking their ass like Bucky did to Seth Rollins that one time (please include MJF hehe)

AEW Stars React To: Their S/O Smacking Their Butt

Pairings: MJF x Reader, Max Caster x Reader, Christian Cage x Reader, Eddie Kingston x Reader, Nick Wayne x Reader, Ricky Starks x Reader, Hook x Reader

Word Count: 750

Supreme Speaks: hey yall, here you are and i hope you all enjoy it. I should have another react post by tomorrow. lemme know what else yall want to see. please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: none i think, suggestive content

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @eddie-kingstons-wifey @triscillal @batzy-watzy @sheinthatfandom @cassie0sstuff

I think this is the most I have ever written the word ass

MJF:

Mans would feel accomplished

Like that finally, someone has acknowledged his ass is on another level

We all know how much pride he takes in his ass just look at the edits on TikTok

If you do it in private, he will definitely laugh and try to slap your back

(Honestly he might twerk like a drunk girl)

If in public, he might be embarrassed or confused for a split second���but he’ll go right back to being arrogant

He’ll tweet about it, tagging Max Caster so he can get jealous

Will start wearing more tight-fitting pants so he can tease you more

Eddie Kingston:

Mans finds it funny but is always confused about why/how you do it before he can do it to you

Full-on laughs and cracks a smile when/after you do it

Now you two are in a competition to see who can smack the other’s ass more often

You typically drive-by slaps or wait until he’s reading/watching wrestling to slap it

He does it when you are on the phone or talking to friends

Eddie loves it because it’s y’all’s way of PDA or showing good vibes

I don’t think y’all would do it out in public like in front of fans

But the one chance you did…boi was he a mess

Christian Cage:

Christian would just stare at you with no expression

He was just looking at you as if he was saying “Really”

OR he’ll stare at you in an offended way

He’s surprised that you did it

“How dare you?”

I can totally see him “scolding” you

Says his ass is off limits and promises to “punish” you the next time you did it

To test your luck…you did it again…and let's say you couldn’t sit down for a good while

Nick Wayne:

Lil boi is so cute and he gets all shy

Immediately he blushes and gets all whiney

Face all red while saying

“I can’t believe you did that”

I think he would be too shy to smack yours back

Prolly would chase you around

Would stop after you smacked his ass twice more

Ever since then, he just accepted the smacks….with a red blushing face of course

Hook:

Nonchalant as a mothafucka

But to him, it’s a normal thing, so he doesn’t care

He just continues talking to his friends after he smacks yours as you walk away

To Hook…it’s equality

Mans just loves to have his hands on you in general

If you did it to him while y’all were in the ring…he would break character and laugh

The internet would have a field day with the clip, making it go viral

Now if you slap it extra hard, Hook would just simply pick you up and show you how a real master of the booty slapping arts does it

Ricky Starks:

Alexa…play Bongos by Cardi B

Like Hook, Ricky’s not fazed

In fact, he eats it up and then some

I can see Ricky just winking at you..and ever so gently…SPEARING YOU ON THE BED

He slaps yours back twice as hard

In public….he would pull you towards him and tell you all the things he’s gonna do to you

Particularly finds it funny when you continuously smack his ass while ya’ll are laying down

I def see it as a postcard or a couple Christmas card (merry smackmas)

Max Caster:

THIS HORNY FUCK

Would deadass put his ass out even further for you to slap again

“I can see you’re getting a little handsy”

Looks at you suggestively, probably would moon you

Probably would chase you down just to slap your ass back

If you do it in public, he’s throwing ass like a real one

OOOOOOO I BET HE WOULD LET OUT VERY LOUD AND EXAGGERATED HIGH PITCH MOAN

Which causes you to become embarrassed and swiftly leave the scene

He would at the rest of The Acclaimed and wiggle his brows…looking for someone else to smack his ass

bonus: I truly think he would be like Richard from Wasabi Productions (back from like 2011)

[lesbioniccommando]

I dunno! I had a funny/bad feeling about the new life is strange pretty much from the jump. A new adventure starring Max about a decade later … and she has a new power, and finds herself in basically the same scenario as the first game. Someone close to her is murdered and she’s gotta get to the bottom of it. And now, thanks to previews from journalists, we are privy to what deck nine was afraid to mention in any of their trailers or tweets but was pretty obvious to anybody with a brain paying attention - Chloe is not involved. At least not in a major capacity. By the sound of it, the choice (to honor your decisions from the first season, of course!) is that Chloe either died or, following the destruction of Arcadia Bay, grew apart from Max and broke up with her, allowing her a blank slate for this new game to paint upon. New love interests, even. A new mystery, a new school, a new town. Isn’t that what you want from this series?!?!?!

DONTNOD is no friend of mine. If you followed me way back when, you probably remember plenty of posts and poorly put together rants and such about how they were my biggest enemy. Regardless, the team at DONTNOD - writers, artists, voice actors - created Life is Strange. They created these characters. And then, facing success, they decided to not create another game starring Max but instead chose to treat the series as an anthology - LIS 2 would follow two brothers in a road trip across America with little references to the first game, but it was largely its own thing. Max and Chloe’s story was done. Whatever the end, it was yours, and it was yours to decide whatever happened afterwards.

DONTNOD was no longer with their publisher Square Enix after this game, for one reason or another. The LIS brand stayed with Square, offloaded to a new developer, Deck Nine. It’s surprising how many people still don’t know this, but I’d say that’s probably intentional on Square’s part! So they release Before the Storm, a prequel with a different voice for Chloe (consequence of a VA strike) and a bit of a rushed ending. But it’s fine, largely. I found some of it pretty effective at the time and there was plenty I didn’t like, either. But it was fine. For whatever reason, it felt fine to have this other team play with these characters, because ultimately it wasn’t more than a fun little diversion.

True Colors. LIS 3. New town, new protagonist, new power - more closely following the structure of the original. I liked it well enough, though again.. bit of a rushed end. If this was the way the series was gonna continue, I didn’t mind much - DONTNOD was still out there releasing their own games, to mixed or muted positivity, but they’re all out there making their art. Did this game underperform? I dunno. Maybe to Square it did, because their next title..

Double Exposure. ‘Back to our roots’ with Max and all those other tired buzzwords. I can’t help but feel cynical towards it on a base level. Here are the new stewards of the series going back to formula, cracking the glass to get the fire ax, digging up the past for that sweet sweet brand recognition. Did you like Max? She’s back!! Is this how it should’ve gone down? Is this what the original artists and writers and such would’ve wanted? Who knows. The brand must continue.

And look.. maybe I’ll eat these words. Maybe the game will actually be quite good, touching, effective. Maybe Chloe and Max get back together and Santa comes down to give me a present and I wake up with a million dollars in my bank account. But it’s pretty rich to have these new developers, these beneficiaries of a hostile takeover and IP law and corporate nonsense, try and get us - the FANS - to buy their new shiny game while going “yeah, this is the ending to your old story. Deal with it. Try our new one!” .. I dunno. I feel childish for writing this out, for feeling this hurt, but I’m sure I can’t be the only one. Of all the romance stories in gaming, let alone all the gay ones, we can’t get one? This one - oh, but I’m sure it’s so BRAVE and TRUTHFUL and HEARTWRENCHING and PLEASE REVIEW OUR GAME WELL - I’m sure it just has to be this way. It’s whatever man!!!

Bae > bay > deck nine

[rikeijo]

I’m glad I found your post. All the other posts I found about the movie cancellation wasn’t as in depth as your posts. I eventually was able to come to the same conclusion as you did but I didn’t realize the screening didn’t go well. 😮‍💨I remember it taking place in Japan and I regretted not being able to just go to Japan and see it. I just don’t understand how the trailer flopped, I feel like the trailer/teaser in 2020 did fairly well online with 4 million views

Hello again!

The trailer really flopped, and it wasn't even a surprise to most people. It's just that because people in the Eng fandom have limited access to info, it's easier to dismiss all bad things as made up (unrelated, but like people believe that all the unsavory tweets by Mitsurou are made up, but they aren't... Quite the opposite, they are very in-character for her public persona), and only focus on the good stuff, while the reality was that YoI fandom in Jp was and still is known as being quite unhinged to put it mildly.

The trailer flopped mainly because fujoshis simply moved from YoI to the next popular thing (now they are probably like 4 or 5 ships further) and a lot of people, who stayed in the fandom were those people, who treat YoI as nothing more but inspiration for VicYuu porn anyway, so they didn't want to see their 'seme' character in a frilly skirt. Some people also felt that the fandom is just too cursed and left (constant complaining that official merch is shit, official arts are shit and not VicYuu, making fun of artists that drew those arts, Mitsurou-hating, Avex-hating, other staff members-hating, prequel movie-hating, because how dare they make a prequel movie about feminine Victor? YoI should be just a nice playground for VicYuu fujos! The creators should just bend their knees and stop being difficult 😡).

This is the result:

Part I (Ep. 1-4 + teaser)

25025 seats/ 6906 tickets sold 25626/4430 25041/2461 24966/1124 24358/917 24356/1096 23201/859

Only 17793 out of 172573 seats sold, that means 90% of seats were empty.

Part II (Ep. 5-8 + teaser)

19263/4449 17475/3625 14693/2283 17822/1022 17721/858 18176/1125 17291/828

Part III (Ep. 9-12 + teaser)

11452/4834 9653/4684 9815/3697 11608/1992 11003/1726 11732/2033 11087/1980

Overall total 70722 out of 543937 seats sold during those 3 weeks - that's only 13%, even though in week 2 and 3, the number of seats was already reduced, because it was unprofitable to keep it at week 1 level (this is how it works - too many seats, the seats are reduced; too few seats, the seats are added). The data are from here. It's a very unfair comparison, but the last Eva eg. did around 250000 on day one, even though it was Monday, iirc. JJK almost 800000... on day one. Conan today has 180000, even though it's its 4th week.

Just imagine how much IceAdo would cost to produce, taking into consideration that they asked multiple Olympic-level skaters for choreography and the budget was planned when YoI was hyper popular.

[starrclown]

I have 3 differing opinions on Hazbin Hotel scenes than what I used to and I didn't wanna make a individual post explaining it so let's go over these all together.

What were talking about:

Loser Baby

Angel's Sa + Sir Pentious

The Vees being evil.

Triggerwarning for Sa and Rape.

First let's get loser baby put of the way. I was kinda critical on that song cause it felt like Husk was telling Angel to get over being under Valentino and to indulge in his bad behaviors.

My opinion has changed. Honestly I don't think that's what the song was trying to say but I understand why me and other felt like it did. Angel's dialoge before that song makes much more sense before the song.

I like the song. It's catchy and sounds good. I like it alot more than what I used too. While I know what it's trying to say, I think it had akward execution.

Next is Angel's Sa.

I never really talked about Angel's SA because I'm not a SA survivor and my opinion shouldn't be used in this argument. The only time I remember critiquing Angel's SA ans hypersexuality is when he says "This body was made to be exploited!"

Yeah I still think this line was gross.

I remember people argued that Angel was using that line as humor to cope. Honestly that's really intresting and can work. Thing is that's it's not played as joke. Charlie says she wouldn't want to exploit Angel and then Angel says this line and then everyone looks uncomfortable.

Like this line can work as Angel joking to cope but the scene doesn't play it like that. Maybe we're supposed to laugh at it but 1. Objectively I don't think it was funny and 2. Shouldn't the characters have a reaction that's not uncomfort?

Like if someone brought it up in the show like Husk or Vaggie that it was a dark joke and ask Angel if he was okay then I believe it could work but the scene isn't like that.

If your a SA survivor feel free to way in cause this is my only opinion on Angel's SA and your opinion is more important than mine here.

Part 2 to this. Sir Pentious.

The scene where Sir Pentious gets dragged into a room to have sex against his will is gross. If you have an entire episode dedicated to supporting SA survivors why the fuck would you add a scene where Sir Pentious gets SA'd? You did this with Moxxie and it wasn't cute. That scene with gross and no one can change my mind. Ew.

Last one is gonna be longer. The Vees being evil.

I made a post a while ago saying that liking Velvette and Vox is completely fine because their better than Valentino. People in the comments argued that their all equally evil and I'm not superior for liking Velvette and Vox more.

This is something I don't exactly agree with. People in the comments were correct on some things. Velvette and Vox enable Valentino. They stick around with Valentino. Velvette made the date rape drug with Valentino. Velvette abuses her modles. Vox litteraly hypnoitises people. Are Velvette and Vox disgusting and vile? Yes. Are they as bad as Valentino? I say no. Ya know why? Their not rapists.

I think Vox and Velvette are disgusting people who are horrible for putting up with a rapist. They are evil. No arguing that. But Vox (not Velvette because she made the date rape drug) isn't on the level of Valentino because he's not a rapist. Valentino is.

If you think the Vees are equally evil then that's fine. My opinion is that Velvette and Vox are only a little better because again, they didn't rape anyone. Velvette is gross for making that date rape drug though.

Okay now that we got that out of the way let's talk about this tweet I saw on here (saw it on someone's blog) because it appuled me.

I'm aorry what? Valentino, the rapist, Velvette, the woman who abuses her models and helped Val make the date rape drug and, Vox, the man who is romantically involved with the rapist, are Karen, Gretchen, and Regina?

I'm sorry huh?

Those two groups are NO WHERE near each other. Regina, Gretchen, and Karen are mean high-school bullies. VALENTINO IS A RAPIST. Comparing Valentino to Karen, a airhead teenager who bullies people with her friends, is so weird to me.

Like why the Mean Girls? I know Viv is trying to make a comparison but I think it's weird as fuck.

"The Vees are just mean girls." No. No their not. Their disgusting demons rotting in hell.

This is on the same level as Valentinos voice actor saying Valentino is bubbles codded.

I just wanted to make this post cause while I am critical of Hazbin Hotel, I think I was wrong for some of my opinions and I'm willing to admit my mistakes.

If you have a differing opinion, be respectful in the comments to me and people who don't agree with you.

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[felassan]

David Gaider on Twitter: "Going through my old DAI files and came across the original plan for a playable post-credits Epilogue... which, due to time constraints, eventually got down-scaled to the post-credits cutscene you saw on release. A lot of the meat here was, I believe, resurrected for Trespasser." [source] "At the time, I was pushing hard for an actual denouement - as opposed to always ending the story so abruptly after the climax. Considering how few players ever get that far, I suppose I can see the argument that it's not exactly a great place to focus resources. I did like where the cutscene ended up, mind you. A nice, Marvel-esque stinger that hinted at story to come. Took the sting out of having yet another story plan go awry... which is simply par for the course for game dev. Writing can always imagine more than we can produce. ;) And in case anyone wonders: no actual work was done on that playable section prior to the cut. You can imagine it being this fully-fleshed out, glorious thing, if you like... but it could just as easily have been half-baked and terrible. The team was fully stretched as it was." [source, two, three]

Some further info from follow-up tweets -

User: "It's a bummer, though I understand the logic. A proper end to cap off the experience can make or break your enjoyment of the full game though, imo" DG: "That was indeed my argument. There's a point where we have to draw the line and finish the story, however, and I'm afraid the original plan was... mmm a mite too big. This was far from the only cut."

User: "WAIT. Am I reading this right… Solas drains Flemeth and then COMMANDS the Well of Sorrows drinker to kill Flemeth?" DG: "I think it was Flemeth who commanded it. I'd have to look through the whole document. It's complicated. Part of why it was eventually cut, probably."

User: "Hold on. We were to kill Flemeth on Flemeth’s command to, possibly, prevent Solas from taking everything? Was passing whatever energy she did to the Eluvian her way of preparing for survival ?" DG: "I don't think it was going to be explained any more than it was in the cutscene you got, tbh."

User: "My WoS Lavellan is SCREAMING rn god please help her in the next game" DG: "Keep in mind that none of this *actually* happened. ;)"

User: "Interesting to see this was envisioned as having adversarial encounters between Solas & Flemeth with the well-drinker being ping-pawned between them. I noticed the Inquisitor lurking off-camera in that cutscene and wondered if they were originally meant to be part of it." DG: "Heh. I'm pretty sure the Inquisitor being placed there in the actual cutscene's level was because a player had to be present *somewhere*. Might be wrong, though." John Epler: "the way the cinematics worked, if you had them firing too far from the player character the engine would try to optimize and cutscenes would start jittering" DG: "Yeah, I thought it was something like that! Thanks, John."

User: "Does this have any link to the fact that there are dialogue audios of Morrigan reacting to solas “absorbing” Mythal in the game files?" DG: "Possibly? I finished writing the epilogue, so it's possible some of it got recorded prior to the cut."

User: "So Morrigan would've finally gotten to kill Flemeth herself, and nobody had to turn into a dragon this time? Also, this clears up what even happened to Flemeth at the end. She's definitely dead. Presumably, the spirit or essence of Mythal and possibly Urthemiel are inside Solas?" User 2: "does it? it can be theorized that flemeth commands the inquisitor/morrigan to kill her so solas wouldn't be able to take all her essence. regardless, in the ending we did get it's not entirely clear what happened. but i doubt she's truly gone. she cheated death before." DG: "And remember that what this stuff points at never actually happened. Whatever becomes of Flemeth in the future is up to the current writing team, and is based only on the cutscene you saw."

Summerfall Studios: "Our creative director davidgaider shares some insight into how Dragon Age: Inquisition's epilogue evolved over production" DG: "You want "evolved over production"? *cracks knuckles* Lemme tell you how we cut Corypheus attacking Skyhold. Now *that's* evolution."

[archelangeli]

step by step. | kageyama t.

THE BASICS: an introduction to the campus main characters.

previous step. | masterlist. | next step.

kageyama tobio

a dancer in the latin dance category and a first-year student. considered a prodigy ever since he made it into dancesport but was never chosen as a representative due to having trouble cooperating with his past dance partners, especially since he always refuses to adjust and match their level. despite his unfortunate case, this didn't stop both oikawa and y/n from seeing him as a competition back in middle school (they were lucky no one was a good match for him or else they would easily get replaced as the school's representative for the sport). his current dance partner is yachi and although he prefers to go all out when he performs, he's trying his best to match her level and that means limiting himself at some point. just like the other dancers, he aims to get into the nationals. meanwhile, hinata keeps trying to convince him to join the volleyball team after tossing for him once. he also shares the same class as tsukishima and hinata.

yachi hitoka

also a dancer in the latin dance category and a first-year student. the biggest sweetheart out there because she volunteered to become kageyama's dance partner since the other dancers didn't like him for his history with his past partners. however, she feels bad whenever kageyama adjusts to her level because deep down, she knows that he could do so much better if only he got paired with a dancer on his level. she is also prone to sickness and would miss practice because of it, which ends up with her apologizing to kageyama a lot (who tries his best to assure her it's fine). she shares the same class as yamaguchi, who would always join her in her little adventures in hunting for flower shops after practice. sometimes, hinata would tag along in an attempt to get interested in things other than volleyball (he once compared a bouquet with a combination of yellow and blue flowers to a mikasa volleyball because of the colors).

yamaguchi tadashi

a first-year student and plays as a middle blocker on the volleyball team. his friendship card almost got revoked by tsukishima for dragging him into the circle hinata formed, but the blonde ends up tolerating the group's existence anyway. whenever he sees hinata being ganged up on by both tsukishima and kageyama in the group chat, he joins them when he's feeling like it, but once yachi tells them to cut it off, he switches sides faster than light. often concerned about yachi because she sometimes misses class due to being sick and would always make sure to take notes for her in class so that she won't fall behind. he would even get her flowers from her favorite flower shop and give them to her when she returns the next day. it genuinely makes her happy and glad to have a friend like him (please get him out of the friend zone).

hinata shoyo

first-year student and plays as a middle blocker on the volleyball team like tsukishima and yamaguchi. the only extrovert in the group who somehow managed to get his hands on every introverted first-year and put them into the same circle of friends as him. the main victim of either tsukishima's teasing or kageyama's wrath, and sometimes gets ganged up on by both of them (it always ends up with him calling yachi for help). a social butterfly for the way he easily gets along with others and knows a lot of people too, always seen under the comment section of someone's tweet. not only that he's trying to get kageyama to join the volleyball team but he's also making attempts to have yachi consider being the manager of the team. despite his shenanigans, he actually admires them in their respective sport and is their ultimate hype man.

tsukishima kei

previously featured on the first half of the introduction.

[ingravinoveritas]

The people that keep saying not to ship Michael and David together in real life because of their relationships to Georgia and Anna are also the same ones who keep begging to have the two girls appear in the next season of GO as a couple because of Anna’s little joke of making out with Georgia. Seriously people saw that tweet of hers and immediately decided to ship them together and call them the “ineffable wives” but Michael and David have come out with soooo much more adorable moments of the love and joy they have for each other and everyone starts saying that it’s disrespectful to ship them when their “married” to females in real life 🤷‍♀️ I mean…. The hypocrisy is astounding and disturbing on levels I can’t even comprehend. The fact that Georgia, who is known to search her and David’s name on Twitter and answers back to anyone that tags or even mentions her didn’t even acknowledge Anna’s tweet says sooooooo much about this “best friend dynamic duo”. The fact that Anna is resorting to jokes about kissing another woman just for attention also…. WHEW. If this isn’t the biggest cry for attention I don’t know what is. And the fact that people feed into her attempts also and are petitioning for them to kiss and show up in GO!

Lord. I've seen so much talk about casting female actresses in regard to fem-presenting Aziraphale/Crowley over the past week, and while it is disappointing, I am not at all surprised. The first inkling I had was upon seeing the reactions when a behind the scenes photo of Crowley as Bildad the Shuhite was posted just before the release of GO 2:

It seems that a lot of folks were expecting/hoping for fem!Crowley, as we saw in Golgotha in season 1 (on the right), and when that turned out not to be the case, the reaction was to call Bildad!Crowley ugly, to say that he should shave, and other comments essentially making fun of this particular look. Obviously, much of this could have (and likely was) made in jest, but the overall consensus was clear: You can't be feminine with a beard.

(Which...I'd like to see someone tell that to Michael Sheen, because yes, the fuck you can...)

So from the outset, I was already bothered by what seemed like the hypocrisy of on the one hand celebrating a show where the characters are genderfluid/nonbinary by definition, and then on the other hand getting upset when one character doesn't fit into a prescribed, conventional idea of femininity.

When Neil subsequently mentioned that there had been a storyline for female-presenting Aziraphale and Crowley in the 1960s, it was dismaying (but again, not surprising) to see these same fans casting female actresses in the roles. Never mind that you already had David playing female!Crowley and Nanny Ashtoreth in season 1. Never mind that both Michael and David have played...well, "drag" doesn't seem like exactly the right word, but they've played women, and brilliantly subverted gender roles in their own ways. There is no reason to think that they couldn't do a fabulous job as fem!presenting Aziraphale and Crowley, except that (again) some fans seem to have a specific idea of femininity that they think does not or cannot apply to Michael and David.

Which then brings us to the apparent clamoring for Anna and Georgia as female Aziraphale and Crowley, which has again left me scratching my head. In all of the tweets and hubbub, I have not seen one person say why they think AL and Georgia would do a good job in said roles--like, "Oh, Georgia was so good as [insert role]" or "I loved Anna as [insert role]"--only that they would be "so amazing." This leads me to think that the only reason these fans want AL and Georgia in the roles is because they are Michael and David's partners. They are assuming that this is somehow a guarantee of the same profound understanding of the characters and their connection, despite there being no evidence of such a correlation. (I mean...I fooled around with my former grad school professor last year, but that doesn't mean I have a PhD...)

What it also seems to indicate is that these folks are not thinking of what is best for the characters, either, or indeed if playing female!Aziraphale and Crowley is something AL or Georgia would even want to do. Neil recently said that Georgia turned down a role in GO 2 supposedly because the character was older than her and she didn't feel it was appropriate. If this is the case, why would Georgia want to play the role of a middle-aged character? Because that is what Aziraphale and Crowley are--ageless celestial beings, yes, but beings who have chosen to present as middle-aged. That is a key part of who they are, so to have the female versions of them played by younger actresses makes no sense and seems downright disrespectful.

There is also what you said, about AL's cringey tweet from a little over a week ago. Georgia could have absolutely responded to or acknowledged it by now, as she has responded to several other tweets since then...but she hasn't. Not a reply, not even a 'like.' And I agree with you that that seems to speak volumes, and that it would probably be a good idea if people looked beyond the Staged-driven narrative of "Georgia and AL are BFFs" to see how Georgia actually seems to feel about her.

(And to echo another thing you said, I will never understand how it is somehow completely fine for fans to ship Georgia and Anna/want to see them make out despite neither of them showing that level of affection toward each other or having any visible chemistry, yet not okay to ship Michael and David who do have that chemistry and have been making their feelings for each other very obvious for the last several years...)

So yes, those are my thoughts on the whole female Aziraphale/Crowley fancasting situation. I just hope that if we do get them as fem!presenting in season 3, that it is Michael and David, because there is no way any other two actors could give us what we got with Aziraphale and Crowley the way Michael and David did. I guess we'll see what happens...

[ilikepjo24]

Azula's character was written for redemption...

So, as some of you may know, Aaron Ehasz was the headwriter and co-executive producer of the first two seasons of Avatar the last Airbender, so by all means, he had a lot of say about the creation of the characters and the 2/3rds of their development, or in some cases, 1/2nds. It's safe to say that next to nobody knows those characters and their purposes as well as he does.

And as some of you also know, after the show had ended, Ehasz made a tweet, publicly announcing that he always intended for Azula to have a redemption arc. Always. It wasn't a last minute decision, it was the end goal from the beginning. Which means that, naturally, in order to create a plotline that doesn't feel forced or odd, Ehasz needed to write a character that always had the potential to be redeemed. He couldn't create an irredeemable character and try to redeem them later. It wouldn't make sense.

Which is why Azula's character always was and still is a perfectly redeemable character.

I genuinely believe that the people that can't see that, simply fail to understand Azula's intentions.

I've had conversations with people that have had perfect understanding of Azula's state of mind, personality and actions, but still failed to understand why she's so redeemable, because they didn't understand her intentions. And I don't blame them for not understanding. You can look at Azula's character all you want, and you still won't see it. Because it isn't just about Azula. It's about the Fire Nation as a whole.

The thing about the Fire Nation is that they genuinely believe they are doing something that is good. It's not just a bunch of people that saw the opportunity to do something evil and did it for fun. Sozin did something evil for power and then gaslighted entire generations into believing they were going something good. The Fire Nation is a bunch of people that think they are doing something good.

In Azula's case, I drew a picture to help you understand.

(Disclaimer: Ozai's crown isn't historically accurate.)

As you can see in the picture, yes, at the end of the day, Azula does bad stuff, but not because she recognizes they are bad and genuinely wants to do then just because. She's s victim of manipulation from an adult she had every reason to trust and brainwashed by the same propaganda that controlled the rest of the nation.

So yes, she did bad stuff and she's a villain.

But she is redeemable.

Every time we see Azula try hard to complete a mission, she's passionate about it. She's passionate to do the "right" thing and she's passionate to make the person that loves her proud. That's why she doesn't evil stuff. It's not because she enjoys pain. It's not because she gets off on people suffering. It's because she thinks it's right, and she's rewarded with love.

Which is what makes her redeemable.

Because being passionate about doing something you think is right means you want to do right things. You just need your view of right to align with what's objectively right. So by that logic, all Azula needs is someone to teach her what is actually right and her views will align with that, and then she'd be passionate about doing the real right thing. The good stuff.

And someone that would do that for her, is someone who would obviously love her, or at the very least, someone who wants the best for her. So with time, it's logical to assume that sooner or later, she'll want to make this person proud.

There's nothing wrong with Azula's mentality of "do good, make proud". It's not inherently evil. Just easy to use. Right now, Ozai has used this to fill the blanks and turn the situation into "do fire nation good, make father proud". All Azula needs to be redeemed is for someone to remove the "fire nation" and "father" proud. Assuming that this person is Zuko, he should just switch it to "do what is considered good on a worldwide level, make brother proud" and just like that, Azula has gone from evil to good.

It's obviously easier said than done, but it is possible. Azula's mentality is what allows her to be anything, evil and good. It's really impressive and fascinating how Ehasz wrote such a character, but he did it for a purpose. This kind of mentality is perfect for creating an evil character that gets redeemed. And it's the exact same mentality Zuko also has. And Zuko hot redeemed, so Azula can too.

This proven.

[freakbullet]

so this video (it's pretty good, worth a watch) basically saved me having to clean up the big word salad post I was drafting but I'm gonna reiterate a few points -

firstly, this isn't mentioned in the video but I think it's so, so important: unlike the valentine author, Gaster has never, ever used a single contraction. Toriel is another character who never uses them, no matter how casual the context. for something like this to suddenly change for no reason makes no sense. Toby is meticulous. I genuinely believe this is a HUGE strike against it being Gaster, yet almost no one mentions it. next, the valentine author speaks as if they don't know us: "you seem reliable", "you are very odd". and as we know, Gaster's well acquainted with us by now, so it'd make no sense for him to speak to us this way. (but what it does lend credence to is this being a character we either haven't met before, or haven't extensively interacted with.) additionally, in all instances so far, Gaster's been keen, focused, sharp. why would he suddenly be so addled and confused? the author saying they forgot who they're supposed to help, and it possibly even being themself, doesn't point to Gaster either - in fact, just the opposite - because the idea of him being forgotten is pure fanon. the game explicitly states that Asgore took so long to hire a new royal scientist because Dr. Gaster's brilliance was irreplaceable. how would the king know that if he didn't remember? fictional characters, by their very nature, are presented to us in a deliberate and finite way; our interactions with them have specific purpose. this means that when we try to hold them to real-world standards like "I, a real live person, write differently depending on the occasion", it won't always hold up. we have to go by what precedents have already been set by the creator, in the context in which these characters exist. on occasions when characters in UT/DR have spoken in a different way than usual, the fundamental, anchoring traits of their speech still remain intact (see: contractions), which would not be the case if Gaster were the valentine author.

(and of course, this doesn't even touch on the Japanese translation highlighting how wildly different the speech styles are, which I personally put more stock in than they do in the video.) the last 3rd of the video is more opinion/headcanon-oriented but he makes his point well. even if you disagree with his perception of Gaster (I do to an extent), it's true that there's already no shortage of whimsical, silly, lighthearted characters in UT/DR, and surely, if Gaster were meant to be one of them, Toby wouldn't reveal it in a way that's so out of left field. I love silly goofy wingding man as much as the next guy, but I also agree that attributing this personality to him out of nowhere, when it's incongruent with everything we've seen so far, would only serve to undermine his character and the uniqueness of it. none of this is to knock anyone whose opinion differs from mine! I'm just laying my thoughts out, for whatever that's worth. I've seen an unfortunate tendency in the community to lump the valentine in with the tweets and gonermaker text as all being on the same level of "obviously Gaster", and then tout it as proof that their headcanons are real. (we all have our headcanons! just don't be a dick about it eh?) at the end of the day, personally, I try to absorb and cling to as much canon evidence as possible, scant though it may be. because what I really really want, is to know who Gaster is. in the truest sense, as he is intended to be by his creator.

(but isn't it wonderful how much we all love this character, no matter how differently we may see him? I mean ultimately if we're not having fun here, then what's the point, right?)

but yeah, give the vid a watch! it goes into more detail and makes more compelling points than my sleepless brain can atm. :p

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 32 - EPISTOLARY

Last train home by erde (orphan_account)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 10,983 Tags: Post-CA:CW, Pining Steve, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Steve writes letters to Tony that he never sends. By the time he hands them to their rightful owner, Tony has had a brush with death, has retired as a superhero, and now has a small town workshop of his very own. But it's okay, Steve has gone into retirement too.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaaah, the ending of this one is so sweet it makes me want to smother myself with a pillow. I love all of Steve's letters and Tony's retired superhero lifestyle, it feels like a missing part of canon. I adore this one, and I bet you will too, so please go and check it out!

a tweet is worth 140 characters by athletiger, BladeoftheNebula, march_hyde, starksnack

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 7,614 Tags: Coffee Shop AU, Fluff and Crack, Twitter AU

Summary: From tumblr: "Ok but imagine it’s Steve on a date with a guy like this and Tony’s watching from across the coffee shop, live tweeting it!! And then Steve finds out that Tony Stark was tweeting about his terrible date and responds to the thread like “next time feel free to step in and save me!” And Tony’s like “next time you should just date me” and whoops, a twitter romance is born!" Well. It happened.

Reasons why I love it: The formatting in this is so fricking good, it feels like I'm really browsing Twitter. I love the back and forth and Tony live tweeting Steve's terrible date, it's hilarious. And there's just something about Johnny Storm getting roasted by the Avengers that I deeply appreciate. Pun absolutely intended. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too, so I hope you check it out!

ctrl-alt-deceit by soliloquent

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 17,113 Tags: No Powers AU, Miscommunication, Getting Together

Summary: “Tony, I’ve completed the background check on Steven Rogers, and there’s something big you need to know. Like, massive security-threat level big. I’m sorry, sugar. He’s bad news.” Or: A corporate espionage story told solely through excerpts from CEO Tony Stark’s inbox. Featuring romantic pining, delightful office lunches, sarcastic super-geniuses, intense investigations, revolutionary nanotechnology research, unhinged arch-nemeses, haunting ghosts from the past, and an endearing emoji overload by a witty Peter Parker.

Reasons why I love it: The suspense in this fic is so goddamn good, it kept me on the edge of my seat the entire time! I really love the Knives Out reference here, it definitely got a good chuckle out of me. And Steve is such a sweetheart, I love him so much. This fic is fantastic, and you should definitely read it, if you haven't already!

🙀 ➡ 😻 ➡ 😽 by Anaxandria, BladeoftheNebula

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 5,159 Tags: Fluff and Humor, No Powers AU, Domestic Avengers

Summary: Tony puts up a "Missing Cat" sign and not only 1) gets his cat back, but 2) meets a cute guy named Steve who keeps refusing the reward. A story told in texts, voicemail transcriptions, and, of course, an overuse of emojis.

Reasons why I love it: Aaaah, I love everything about this! The Non-Powered Avengers group chat cleansed my soul, it's so funny. And Steve and Tony's voices especially are so spot on, it feels like I'm really reading their messages. This fic is wonderful, and if you haven't read it yet, then you're definitely missing out!

Collected Letters (1930-1943) by brokentoy, triedunture

Pairing: Steve/Bucky Rating: T Words: 16,654 Tags: PTSD, Roommates, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: The collected private correspondence—unedited, uncensored—of Steven Rogers, later known as Captain America, and his longtime companion, James B. Barnes, spanning the years from childhood to World War II.

Reasons why I love it: This fic just tears at my heartstrings in the most beautiful way. I love how their relationship develops while they're living together, and the glimpses into what their life was like in the 30s and 40s feel so real I can totally believe it's what actually happened in canon. Definitely check this one out if you haven't, it's wonderful!