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peachyhotteok · 3 days ago

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a deal with the devil.. | jwy x reader

synopsis: a beautiful demon wooyoung offers you a deal you can’t pass up.. or can you when it turns out there was a typo in your contract?

warnings: 18+, smut, alcohol, a j*b (jk)

pairings: demon!wooyoung x fem!reader

word count: 5.5k

notes: hey guys, welcome to my first post back on tumblr, bare with me i havent written in years… i hope you love!

I can never win.

I bust my ass, I do the most, yet, I never win.

“I just wish for once, my effort wouldn’t go unnoticed.”

You groaned as tired hands met your forehead at the sight of the email that was gifted to you with a little red bubble next to the envelope icon on your computer screen. Every year it’s the same bullshit message congratulating anyone else but you on their special employee of the month promotion, the promotion that every year you would pull late nights in the office for, the air in your cubicle reeking of exhaustion from over exerting yourself to appease your company.

I mean, would you ever even get to show what you had in you if they never even gave you the chance?

In celebration of our new Employee of the Year, there will be an obligatory lunch today in the company cafeteria. We will be providing food and other refreshments while our CEO gives a congratulatory speech in honor of our new promotee.

You chuckled to yourself at the thought of your boss stumbling over his words while trying to read a tribute to someone he barely even knew. Absolute chicken scratch, most likely written in a hurried swipe of his pen in an attempt to get back to the large load of nothing that he would do behind his desk every day. You shrugged off the comedic thought and brought your attention back to your work that you were no longer even close to being interested in doing anymore after the news, but bills would in fact not pay themselves.

By the time lunch rolled around, you could feel your fingers aching from typing all morning and decided that maybe you should stretch a little… and maybe a free lunch wasn't all that bad even if it was a slight morale crushing celebration in the first place.

You made your way to the cafe, the hustle and bustle of people and voices around you annoying you all the same. Scoping out the tables and observing all the options of food available with the influx of commotion around you had you settling with a bottle of water and a pastry out of a little white box from a bakery down the street just to get out of the chaos. You found yourself a nice corner towards the back of the room to stand and listen to the ceremony, if you would even call it that. People spoke amongst themselves as the CEO made a fool of himself as expected, you found yourself scanning the room out of boredom.

You locked eyes with an unfamiliar, yet trance inducing face. You’ve never seen him around the office before, but chalked it up to him most likely being in another department. Turning away, you brought your attention back to the front of the room, counting down the moments for this sorry excuse of a celebration to end. A chill ran through your body as you sensed a newfound presence behind you, an almost eerie feeling rose red flags in your mind as you moved to the side to let whomever pass. The presence stepped up to you and turned to introduce himself.

“Jung Wooyoung, if you were wondering.” He held his hand out to you, waiting for you to put your own in his awaiting palm. You assessed his features carefully. He was nowhere near bad looking. Actually, quite the opposite. His deep black hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, stray pieces that would not fit resting across his forehead and framing his cheeks. Dark, entrancing eyes that felt as if they could stare directly into your soul, learning all of your secrets with just a glace. A prominent, yet beautiful nose sat right above his plump, smirking lips. He smelled of bergamot, vanilla and slightly of firewood. Something didn’t feel right.. But you just couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. You surrendered a hand and shook his, introducing yourself.

“___ ___, I don't believe I’ve seen you around before, I work in the development and sales department. You?”

His smirk slowly spread into an almost smile, almost as if he was hiding true intentions. He pulled his hand away and stepped closer to you, just close enough for your conversation to be deemed private in a way.

“What if I told you I worked in the… wants and needs department?” You cocked an eyebrow at what you felt to be an odd way of flirting. Scoffing, you stepped back to keep some extra distance from this stranger named Wooyoung. He closed the gap again and proceeded to speak to you in a hushed tone.

“Okay, okay. I see I failed to lighten the mood, so let me cut to the chase. You have wants and wishes, and this is where I come in. I’m here to grant you those wishes under one condition.”

This guy is crazy. You stepped as far away as you could, making a beeline for the women's bathroom to get away from this absolute psychopath. You were sure you were dreaming, no one in their right mind would approach a woman like that. Especially in the workplace. You stepped into the single bathroom and locked the door behind you, expecting that creep to get the hint and hit the road.

“Can you please hear me out? I’m really bad at these persuasive talks so I’m just going to be honest. Believe it or not, I’m just like you. I hear wishes, and it’s my job to come and attempt to grant them.”

“Like some kind of fucking genie?”

“Now that's just rude. I’m a demon, working for the Devil himself.”

“Oh you’re a whole nother type of insane, I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

Before you could turn back around to race to the door, Wooyoung was there. Leaned against the exit with his black button down sleeves rolled up, arms crossed with visible annoyance on his smug face. Confusion ran across yours.

“How did you- You were just- Huh?” Your hands flew up to your hair, trying to process what was going on in front of you.

“Hey man, I’m just trying to help you and I’m starting to regret it.” Wooyoung breathed out, as if trying to recollect himself.

“They call me Wooyoung. I come from down under, and I really don’t mean Australia. I’m one of Satan’s finest demons if I do say so myself. And I’m here to offer you, yes you, your most precious wish. The catch? Your first born kicker. Don’t worry, I’ll take really good care of the little one. I’ve always wanted one of my own!”

He spoke quickly, almost as if trying to just brush over what he just asked you for. He raised an arm and ruffled your hair with his large hand. I hissed quietly and swatted his hand away.

“And what if I don’t have a kid, then what? Will my wish not come true or something? This whole spiel sounds ridiculous and I must be going crazy.” For a brief moment, you did take things into consideration. You were a very career driven woman and kids were never in your life plans, as you wanted to focus on yourself.

“No, you’re not crazy and no, you’ll still get it. But at least we know you were committed enough in the first place.” Wooyoung gave a sarcastic thumbs up along with a cheesy grin almost as if he was in a corny infomercial.

Standing back up straight, he clenched one of his fists, a small flame flickering inside of it. He opened his hand back up, a piece of crumbled printer paper and a pen sitting in it. The edges were slightly singed and it wasn’t the most appealing thing, being that you were signing away a child that wasn’t even guaranteed to come into this world yet. Your eyes shot from the sorry excuse of a contract back to the ‘demon’ in front of you.

“Well that’s certainly a promising contract.”

He huffed in slight irritation and snatched his hand and the contract back.

“I came from Hell man, What did you expect? Listen, you can take it or leave it. Your choice. Let me just say this, If you wish for something again, it won’t be me next time. It’ll be someone wayyy less attractive, and I personally don't want that for you.” You sighed in defeat and scanned the document in hand. Before signing, you glance at him once more. He jerks his hand out closer as a sign of impatience. You quickly signed your name. The second your pen left the paper, it went up in a puff of smoke.

“Pleasure doing business with you, beautiful. Now I’m off. See you when you have a baby!” And just like that, he was gone. Not even a moment later, still processing what just went down, there was a knock from a woman urgent to use the bathroom after too many cups of coffee from the cafe. You apologized and made your way back to your cubicle, keeping an eye out for any oddly hot demon men lurking around the office.

—

After the mindfuck of whatever today was, you could definitely say walking in your house and getting in the shower was probably the highlight of your night. You turned the dial all the way to the right, making the water as hot as it possibly could go. Stripping down to your black bra and matching panties, You stuck your foot into the shower to test the water temperature. You adjusted the dial slightly and shed from your undergarments and stepped into the shower.

As you started to shampoo your hair, a vaguely familiar smell filled the humid, steamy room. You couldn’t quite put a finger on the smell, but you knew it from somewhere. You smelled the shampoo on your hands and checked the bottle.

Did I buy the wrong one? No, this is the same one I always use. You placed the bottle down and stuck your head out from behind the shower curtain to sniff the air.

“Heyyy sweet stuff. Did you miss me?”

Your eyes widened as you slowly whipped your head around, meeting the same dark, soul snatching eyes that were in front of you earlier that day. You let out a squeal and quickly covered your bare body with the floral shower curtain.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t see anything. But, if I’m telling the truth, I’m probably gonna have to.” You cocked my head, confused as to what the man meant. He nervously chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

“So do you remember the little contract I had you sign earlier? Yeah so, there might have kinda been a small typo.”

“By typo.. what kind of typo? Like it has to be a certain gender, or you take them at a certain age, or only if they look a certain way?”

“See that’s the funny, actually hilarious thing.” His eyes strayed to the ground in an almost emotion invoking kind of innocence. You kind of felt bad in a way seeing him so flustered, he was only a guy–a demon that wanted to do his job right. Something you knew all too well.

“I know it was supposed to be first born but uh, the contract might have actually said first porn. I swear it wasn’t on purpose! Although, if I had seen all of that back in that bathroom today, it might’ve been.” Your mind went blank as you took in what was going on. Every event that occurred today was just too much to process at once.

“Do you mind waiting in the living room? I uh, I want to finish my shower.” Wooyoung nodded and exited the bathroom as you disappeared back behind the shower curtain. You sighed and leaned against the wall, sliding down it to sit at the bottom of the tub, letting the water run over your hair and body lightly.

Well he’s not ugly, is it worth it? Nah ___, have some morals…

But, you would finally get that position at work you wanted, with only a fraction of the energy you’ve been exerting wasted. You’re almost positive a few people have fucked their way up the ladder, and at least you wouldnt be doing it within the company… A little porno never hurt anyone, right?

You quickly finished washing your hair, body coming straight after. Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around yourself and walked across the hall to your bedroom to throw on something quick and sexy.

Rummaging through your drawers, you found a skimpy baby pink lingerie set you had saved for a ‘special’ night and a baggy t-shirt to put on over it. After dressing, you made your way downstairs to the living room to confront the man who had seemed to move from his assigned spot on the couch, to the kitchen.

“What the hell man, why are you in my kitchen? Don’t demons eat souls or something? Why are you going through my cabinets?” You reached up and blocked the cabinet he was about to open. He groaned and stepped back, crossing his arms.

“Demon or not, I get hungry for human stuff too, you know. Pizza, cake, alcohol, all that type of shit.” You smirked and bent down to open a cabinet near the bottom of the sink, pulling out a bottle of clear liquid. You held it out to Wooyoung, nudging him to take a swig of the vodka you were passing him. He cocked an eyebrow and looked down at you and your offer.

“Glad you’re into alcohol. I’ll take you up on your little typo contract. But first, some liquid courage.” I twisted off the top of the bottle, flicking it somewhere across the kitchen. As you put the spout to your lips a strong hand took the bottle from you, while another warm one grazed your chin, pushing it upwards.

“Allow me.”

You threw your head back and let him pour a hefty swig down your throat while keeping eye contact with him. Small trickles of liquid slip from the corners of your mouth as you swallowed, the sting feeling good in contradiction to the thoughts going through your head. Wooyoung eventually pulled the bottle away from your mouth and took it into his own.

He stooped down to your level, lifting your chin a little more, this time with just one of his tanned fingers. He brought his face close to your neck, placing his tongue where the stream of alcohol that dripped out of your mouth ended.

You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath against your sparsely wet neck, warmth pooling both around the area and in your lower stomach. Slowly, he dragged his tongue up from your collar bone to the corner of your mouth, stopping as he got to your lips. His plump ones lingered over yours. They felt hungry in a way, as if he could swallow you whole any minute now. Your eyes fluttered shut awaiting impact, but none came. Wooyoung let out a light chuckle and pulled back, taking the bottle to his own mouth, downing a couple gulps for himself.

“Eager, aren't you?”

You couldn’t tell if it was the heat from the alcohol, the situation or just him, but your eyes wouldn’t leave his figure. You eyed Wooyoung like he was the finest piece of man you’ve ever seen in your life. I mean, he definitely was one of them, but tonight it seems like he looks twenty times better than he did back at work. He removed the bottle from his lips, licking them after as he looked down at you. He smirked as you sat there and genuinely took in all of the dark and handsome man that stood in front of you.

The crisp black button down clung to him loosely, a button or two undone at the chest so the necklaces he wore were visible against his smooth chest. His long black hair wasn’t pulled back this time, draping around his face in soft tufts. The black jeans and black leather boots to match, it’s like every part of him screamed sexy. He smiled and took another sip of vodka.

“Like what you see?” He purred smugly while passing the bottle back to you to drink from. You blushed softly and nodded, smirking back at the man in front of me. “Don’t we have a contract to deal with?” You grabbed Wooyoung’s hand and led him back up the stairs to your room. Both of you stumbling up the stairs, eager for what awaits each other once you enter the bedroom. He closed the door behind you two and pulled a video camera out of one of his inner coat pockets. You laughed and took the vodka bottle from his hand.

“Came prepared huh? What if I wasn’t even going to say yes?” You sipped at the clear liquid and kneeled at the head of the bed, sitting back on your feet against the headboard. He shrugged his shoulders and licked his lips at the sight of your thighs spreading upon contact with the mattress, a desirous look glistening in his dark eyes.

“You signed a contract princess, it was only fair you say yes. Ready?” You nodded your head, looking the man in his eyes. He kicked off his shoes and plopped himself down at the foot of the bed. He flipped the camera open, clicking the record button and pointing it at you. Wooyoung peeked at you from behind the camcorder, a visible wide grin on his face.

“Go ahead and show me what’s under that old shirt. I know you put something sweet on for me.” The seductive rasp in his voice gave you chills as you listened to him speak. You slowly began to lift your baggy t-shirt up and over your head, teasing him in the process. When you finally got it off, the man shifted in the spot he was sitting, adjusting himself at the reveal of the lacey garments underneath. Tossing the shirt to the side you leaned back, moving your legs from under you to out in front of you and pulled them to your chest, a newfound shyness taking over your body at Wooyoung’s reaction. You watched him take his bottom lip between his teeth as he got himself more comfortable at the foot of the large bed.

“Go ahead, I want you to start without me.”

You felt your face flush red as he grabbed one of your ankles gently and pushed it farther away from the other, camera still in his other hand. You spread your bent legs slightly, sliding a small hand underneath the thin, laced fabric. You began to feel all over your folds, the wetness increasing by the second. A soft moan threatened to escape your lips, but you trapped it with a closed mouth whimper and shut your eyes, leaning your head back against the headboard. The demon in front of you leaned in, making sure to keep the camera in focus and brought a soft, but strong hand up to your mouth. His thumb grazed your bottom lip, pressing down to open your mouth up and slip said thumb in. The sudden touch making you open your eyes and look at him, half lidded in lust.

“I want to hear every sound you make. Don’t try and hide them, you’ll only piss me off. Also,-” His warm hand left your mouth and was brought to your hip, grasping onto the side of the pink lace panties. The warmth only increased the longer it was there, not long after I realized what the man was doing. Not long after a tearing sound could be heard, Wooyoung flinging the now darkened, wet fabric across the room and sitting back at the end of the bed, steadying the camera.

“Those needed to be off, I want to watch you play with that pretty pussy of yours.”

He positioned himself, along with the camera, at a place that he’d be able to get a good view of your now wet slit. You looked Wooyoung in his eyes as you circled your clit with a drenched finger, his face alone only turning you on more, you wanted to put on a show. For him. He broke eye contact to look lower down your body, to get a visual of the entertainment the camera was getting.

“Aah, Wooyoung..”

You whimpered softly as you slid a finger into yourself, grabbing your swollen breast with your free hand. Wooyoung watched in awe as you called out his name while pleasuring yourself. You pumped your finger slowly in your soaking cunt, letting out every soft whimper and cry you had in you as you continued to massage and pinch at your hardened bud with your other hand. You could feel a small knot in your stomach begin to tighten, causing you to let out a long unexpected whine. A visible bulge could be seen under the man's jeans and no matter which way he sat, it was unable to be hidden.

“Fuck this, It’s my turn.” The dark haired demon set the camcorder down on the nightstand next to the bed, angling it to face the two of us. He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off of his body to reveal a beautifully toned midsection, tanned and glistening with the little bit of sweat radiating from his warm and excited body. He slid off his jeans quickly and climbed back onto the bed.

“Lay down.”

He ordered, to which you complied without an argument. Wooyoung trapped your body under his, him automatically attacking your neck with rough bites and kisses. As his tongue lapped over a spot close to your earlobe, he unlatched your bra and flung it, tossing it wherever all the other clothes had flown to.

While leaving tiny red bites from your ear to your collarbone he managed to get two warm fingers between my legs, and started to massage your now throbbing clit. You let out a soft groan, biting your lip as you instinctively spread your legs a little more, now fully vulnerable to Wooyoung. He pulled his mouth away from the spot on your collarbone that was now stained with purple. Using his free hand he grabbed at your face, squeezing it with one hand and turning it, making you look in his eyes.

As his eyes connected with yours, without warning he slid both fingers into your now dripping pussy. Your teeth captured your lip once more, hard enough to possibly even draw a little blood. His thick fingers were now filling you in a way that you definitely couldn't do on your own, the man using his free hand to pry your mouth back open.

“I said I want to hear every last sound that comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours.” His tongue slid across your bottom lip, causing your lips to part a little, giving him the chance to slip his warm tongue in.

Wooyoung's hand found the back of your head and tangled itself in your still damp hair as pulled you in for a deeper kiss. He slowly pushed his two fingers further in you, your breath hitching and body jerking forward onto his fingers, as if begging without words for him to go deeper. He complied to your neediness almost if he had read your mind. You squealed into the kiss, catching the feeling of his underwear encased bulge twitch underneath you.

While still pumping his fingers in and out of your heat, Wooyoung grazed your sensitive, swollen clit with his thumb softly as he pulled away from the kiss to attack your left breast with rough bites and sucks. He used his tongue to play with your nipple, before taking it into his mouth with a soft groan leaving his mouth in the process.

You threw my head back and let your own cries of pleasure fill the bedroom. The bulge in his boxers felt as if it was getting bigger and bigger as the moments went on, your moans and expressions just for his fingers alone made him lose patience, imagining how you would look and sound if he went all the way… And right now, Wooyoung needed that.

He slid his fingers out of you, your pussy now feeling empty without him. You pouted as he let your nipple leave his mouth with a small pop, whimpering at the sudden loss of his touch. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he licked off all the juices that resided on them, seeming to enjoy every last second of it.

“You taste so fucking good… I just know you feel even better…”

He lifted up while sliding down his boxers, letting his hard, twitching dick pop out of them and tossed them away into the now building pile of discarded clothing. You looked down with wide eyes and battled yourself internally at the sight. This is not at all what you could’ve prepared yourself for. He was both thicker and bigger than you expected and knew you were in for a rather long night.

“Be easy..” You muttered out, choking back on your words.

“Aw, is someone scared it’s gonna hurt? Don’t worry princess.. I’ll start off gentle.” Wooyoung looked down at you with pure hunger and greed in his eyes. He was ready to absolutely devour you as soon as he could, as if you were a big plate of dinner, at risk of going cold before he could get a bite. His strong hands gripped at your waist, lifting your lower half off of the mattress a little, lining himself up with your now dripping entrance. He teased at it, rubbing up and down your folds in an effort to coat his throbbing cock with your slick, warm juices in hopes he’d be able to slide into your tight, tight heat just the littlest bit easier.

“Are you ready for my dick, pretty girl?”

Before you could muster up a response, he was already entering himself inside of you. He threw his head back and let a loud, obnoxious groan spill from his lips and slowly pushed the rest of himself in, pausing every inch or so to let you adjust to him. You chimed in with your own sweet sounding cry, making his skin tingle.

“Aaaghh.. Fuck- you’re so fucking tight…”

He bottomed out and still kept pushing, wishing he could fill you with even more than he already has. His eyes closed tight, trying to get used to the feeling of your warmth around him. You clawed at his wrists and hands wrapped around your waist holding you tightly, as if you could slip away and disappear at any given moment.

You two sat still for a few seconds, room stuffy from the tension building between. He quickly dropped his head back down to you and trailed his tongue across his lower lip, half lidded, lust filled eyes making contact with yours. He gripped at your waist tighter. There was no hurt, no pain, just pure pleasure happening between you and this literal demon.

“I-I’m going to move now okay? Is that alright?” His previously smug demeanor tossed out of the window, now a bumbling mess of a man eager to get himself off.

I nodded quickly. “Please Wooyoung.. Please have your way with me…” You let out loud moans of pleasure as he began to pump himself in and out of you. You bucked your hips forward to meet his thrusts halfway, to make sure he was receiving the same kind of pleasure he was giving. Wooyoung’s hands leave your waist as he drops down, pulling himself closer to you. His arms now rested on either side of your head, him burying his face in the side of your neck, grunting and moaning as he fucked you into the mattress.

His strokes were rough, calculated, rhythmic even. Aside from a few messy strokes he gave you, to let you know he was thoroughly enjoying his time inside of you.. Maybe even a little too much.

You couldn’t deny that you were feeling the same. He started to pick up the pace, clapping and slapping sounds bouncing off of the walls in the room. You’re almost sure your screams of his name and other randomized curse words could be heard by all of your neighbors, but you didn’t care. Wooyoung squeezed your ass, slapping it full force as your grip on his shoulders tightened while he continued to bottom out inside of you, making you cry out in ecstasy.

“Oh my god.” You called out as he pulled you all the way into on him, pussy throbbing as he pulsated inside of your heat. He held you close to him for a moment, his dick still buried deep in you, beating a mile a minute as if it had its very own heartbeat. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening rapidly, arching your back in pure bliss. The warmth from his chest on yours was about to send you over edge and he could tell.

“I’m so close, Wooyoung! Right there please!”

He took this as an opportunity to change positions, him flipping you so you were bent over with him behind you. Before you could protest him denying you the orgasm that was beyond ready to break, he pushed your back down into an arch and pushed himself back into you with no warning. You yelped out in both pain and pleasure of being filled up again so quickly and unexpectedly. Your hands flew backwards to grab at his, but he managed to get both of your hands in one of his own, pinning them against your back, shoving you deeper into the mattress.

“Fuck, you feel amazing on my dick, ____. It’s like this pretty pussy was made just for me… Go ahead and cum on it baby girl.” He whispered as his warm tongue slipped out of his mouth to lap at the back of your shoulder. You let out a high pitched moan as he pulled almost all the way out of you and thrusted himself all the way back in, not giving you even a second to beg for mercy.

The thickness of his member stretching out your tight, saturated walls was enough to drive you ballistic. You clawed and scratched at his hand holding yours hostage, as he fucked into you while groaning loudly. The knot you had been holding for so long finally snapped, letting your juices shower out all over his dick, as he continued to pump it in and out of your increased wetness.

The sounds of his groans and growls were music to you ears as he released your hands and gripped onto your throat tightly, the searing heat from his warm hands now wrapped around your neck. A loud euphoric screech escaped your parted lips as he continued to fuck me deeper and harder with every stroke, pounding me mercilessly.

He used his hand around your throat at leverage to pull your body up against his, his spare hand snaking around your waist to hold you up. His hand moved from your neck to your face to turn it back to his, smashing his lips into yours for a steamy, wet kiss. Your teeth clashed together, lips were being bitten and tongues were being sucked on as he plowed into you violently, eliciting sultry, disgusting moans and whimpers to leave your lips.

Wouyoung pulled away, biting down on his lip hard. Both hands met your waist as his thrusts started to get more untimely and sloppy, his breathing getting heavier and heavier as the seconds passed.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He called out as his pumping got more out of rhythm. You took this chance to fuck yourself back on to him, giving more of the work to yourself to pull his own orgasm out of him the way he did yours.

“Come on baby, cum for me. You deserve to fill me up, so do it.”

This must have brought him to the edge, because the minute those words left your mouth, his entire body shivered against your own. He quickly pushed his twitching dick into me completely, and let his hot seed paint my soft velvety insides. Pulling out slightly, he made sure to pump the rest of his length with his fist to make sure everything was out, and inside of you.

“Stay right there beautiful..” He dropped down onto the bed, reaching over for the camera he put down earlier and held it up to your now leaking pussy, capturing all of himself leaking out of you. He slapped the camera shut and flipped over next to you. You went limp against the mattress, turning your face towards his. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and flashed you that smug smile of his.

“Well, congratulations on Employee of the Year. You definitely deserve it after a performance like that.”

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mariacallous · 2 months ago

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My earliest memory of 4chan was sitting up late at night, typing its URL into my browser, and scrolling through a thread of LOLcat memes, which were brand-new at the time.

Back then a photoshop of a cat saying "I can has cheezburger" or an image of an owl saying “ORLY?” was, without question, the funniest thing my 14-year-old brain had ever laid eyes on. So much so, I woke my dad up by laughing too hard and had to tell him that I was scrolling through pictures of cats at 2 in the morning. Later, I would become intimately familiar with the site’s much more nefarious tendencies.

It's strange to look back at 4chan, apparently wiped off the internet entirely last week by hackers from a rival message board, and think about how many different websites it was over its more than two decades online. What began as a hub for internet culture and an anonymous way station for the internet's anarchic true believers devolved over the years into a fan club for mass shooters, the central node of Gamergate, and the beating heart of far-right fascism around the world—a virus that infected every facet of our lives, from the slang we use to the politicians we vote for. But the site itself had been frozen in amber since the George W. Bush administration.

It is likely that there will never be a site like 4chan again—which is, likely, a very good thing. But it had also essentially already succeeded at its core project: chewing up the world and spitting it back out in its own image. Everything—from X to Facebook to YouTube—now sort of feels like 4chan. Which makes you wonder why it even needed to still exist.

"The novelty of a website devoted to shock and gore, and the rebelliousness inherent in it, dies when your opinions become the official policy of the world's five or so richest people and the government of the United States," the Onion CEO and former extremism reporter Ben Collins tells WIRED. “Like any ostensibly nihilist cultural phenomenon, it inherently dies if that phenomenon itself becomes The Man.”

My first experience with the more toxic side of the site came several years after my LOLcat all-nighter, when I was in college. I was a big Tumblr user—all my friends were on there—and for about a year or so, our corner of the platform felt like an extension of the house parties we would throw. That cozy vibe came crashing down for me when I got doxed the summer going into my senior year. Someone made a “hate blog” for me—one of the first times I felt the dark presence of an anonymous stranger’s digital ire, and posted my phone number on 4chan.

They played a prank that was popular on the site at the time, writing in a thread that my phone number was for a GameStop store that had a copy of the ultra-rare video game Battletoads. I received no less than 250 phone calls over the next 48 hours asking if I had a copy of the game.

Many of the 4chan users that called me mid-Battletoad attack left messages. I listened to all of them. A pattern quickly emerged: young men, clearly nervous to even leave a message, trying to harass a stranger for, seemingly, the hell of it. Those voicemails have never left me in the 15 years I've spent covering 4chan as a journalist.

I had a front-row seat to the way those timid men morphed into the violent, seething underbelly of the internet. The throbbing engine of reactionary hatred that resented everything and everyone simply because resentment was the only language its users knew how to speak. I traveled the world in the 2010s, tracing 4chan’s impact on global democracy. I followed it to France, Germany, Japan, and Brazil as 4chan's users became increasingly convinced that they could take over the planet through racist memes, far-right populism, and cyberbullying. And, in a way, they did. But the ubiquity of 4chan culture ended up being an oddly Pyrrhic victory for the site itself.

Collins, like me, closely followed 4chan's rise in the 2010s from internet backwater to unofficial propaganda organ of the Trump administration. As he sees it, once Elon Musk bought Twitter in 2022 there was really no point to 4chan anymore. Why hide behind anonymity if a billionaire lets you post the same kind of extremist content under your real name and even pays you for it?

4chan’s “user base just moved into a bigger ballpark and started immediately impacting American life and policy," Collins says. "Twitter became 4chan, then the 4chanified Twitter became the United States government. Its usefulness as an ammo dump in the culture war was diminished when they were saying things you would now hear every day on Twitter, then six months later out of the mouths of an administration official."

But understanding how 4chan went from the home of cat memes to a true internet bogeyman requires an understanding of how the site actually worked. Its features were often overlooked amid all the conversations about the site's political influence, but I'd argue they were equally, if not more, important.

4chan was founded by Christopher “Moot” Poole when he was 15. A regular user on slightly less anarchic comedy site Something Awful, Poole created a spinoff site for a message board there called “Anime Death Tentacle Rape Whorehouse.” Poole was a fan of the Japanese message board 2chan, or Futaba Channel, and wanted to give Western anime fans their own version, so he poorly translated the site's code and promoted his new site, 4chan, to Something Awful's anime community. Several core features were ported over in the process.

4chan users were anonymous, threads weren't permanent and would time out or "404" after a period of inactivity, and there were dozens of sub-boards you could post to. That unique combination of ephemerality, anonymity, and organized chaos proved to be a potent mix, immediately creating a race-to-the-bottom gutter culture unlike anything else on the web. The dark end point of the techno-utopianism that built the internet. On 4chan you were no one, and nothing you did mattered unless it was so shocking, so repulsive, so hateful that someone else noticed and decided to screenshot it before it disappeared into the digital ether.

"The iconic memes that came out of 4chan are because people took the time to save it, you know? And the fact that nobody predicted, nobody could predict or control what was saved or what wasn't saved, I think, is really, really fascinating," Cates Holderness, Tumblr's former head of editorial, tells WIRED.

Still, 4chan was more complicated than it looked from the outside. The site was organized into dozens of smaller sections, everything from comics to cooking to video games to, of course, pornography. Holderness says she learned to make bread during the pandemic thanks to 4chan's cooking board. (Full disclosure: I introduced Holderness to 4chan way back in 2012.)

"When I switched to sourdough, I got really good pointers," she says.

Holderness calls 4chan the internet's “Wild West” and says its demise this month felt appropriate in a way. The chaos that defined 4chan, both the good and the very, very bad, has largely been paved over by corporate platforms and their algorithms now.

Our feeds deliver us content; we don't have to hunt for it. We don't have to sit in front of a computer refreshing a page to find out whether we're getting a new cat meme or a new manifesto. The humanness of that era of the web, now that 4chan is gone, is likely never coming back. And we'll eventually find out if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

"The snippets that we have of what 4chan was—it's all skewed,” Holderness says. “There is no record. There's no record that can ever encapsulate what 4chan was."

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saiyanprincessswanie · 4 months ago

Text

Missy’s Writing Challenge

Welcome to Missy’s Writing Challenge. I’m grateful for everyone’s support. I want to thank every single one of my followers on my blog. Whether you follow me for my work or for my weekly reading lists I thank you. Without your support, I wouldn’t be here.

(Thank you @late-to-the-party-81 for the header!!)

Rules:

This challenge is for Chris Evans & Sebastian Stan Characters Only

Tag your fic as #Missy's Writing Challenge and tag me in your work

You must be over 18 years old to participate

Mark all stories appropriately. (Fluff, Smut, Dark, Non/Con, etc)

It can be a drabble or one-shot whichever you prefer

Reader Insert only

Minimum words 500, No max, Please use the keep reading feature if it’s longer than 500 words

You can choose any AU, Trope, or Prompt. No need to send an ask.

No incest, No underage, No pedo, No toilet/bathroom fics, No DDLG & No RPF.

Will take late submissions

Due date: June 30, 2025

All stories will be reblogged. I will add all fanfics to a Masterlist for easy access.

If I haven’t reblogged your work for a week Tumblr might have eaten the notification so please send me a message.

Here are some characters, tropes, au’s & prompts to choose from. Choose whichever one you like or how many you like.

Chris Evan Characters:

Andy Barber

Ari Levinson

Cole Turner

Curtis Everett

Frank Adler

Jack O'Malley

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Lloyd Hansen

Mr. Freezy

Ransom Drysdale

Steve Rogers

Sebastian Stan Characters:

Bucky Barnes

Chris (Destroyer)

Chris Beck

Frank (Endings, Beginnings)

God the bounty hunter

Jefferson/The Mad Hatter

Lee Bodecker

Mickey (Monday)

Nick Fowler

Scott Huffman

AU’s:

Alpha/Beta/Omega

Arranged Marriage

Mob Boss

Biker

Bodyguard

CEO

Roomate

Royalty

Soulmates

Sugar Daddy

Vikings

Tropes:

Annoying Neighbor

Arranged Marriage

Dad’s Best Friend

Enemies to Lovers

Evil Twin

Ex’s hook-up

Forbidden Love

Friends to Lovers

Idiots in Love

Only One Bed

Sex pollen

Writing Prompts:

"I wasn’t planning on falling for you. But here we are."

"If you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna kiss you."

"You make me want to be better, even when I don’t know how."

"I love how you say my name when you’re breathless."

"I didn't believe in soulmates before I met you."

“It’s always been you.”

“You look cute wearing my clothes.”

“I look at the future and all I see is you.”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“For the first time, in a long time, I feel like I have something to protect.”

“I owe my life to you.”

"I wish I could just hold you one more time."

“I was manipulated into believing I was unworthy of your love.”

"I could spend forever right here, tracing every inch of you."

"You made me believe in love."

“I would move mountains for you.”

"You can keep pretending you hate me, but I see it in your eyes. You’re mine—even if you won’t admit it."

"After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me? I can’t believe how ungrateful you are!"

"I can’t believe you’d think that about me after everything I’ve done for you. Do you really think I’m that kind of person?"

"Do you still love me, or am I just convenient?"

#saiyanprincessswanie #missy's writing challenge #fanfic writing challenge #writing challenge #chris evans #sebastian stan #4200 followers #April is my birthday month

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nanamineedstherapy · 6 months ago

Text

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Verbal abuse, grief, and loss, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Redemption Arc, Mild Violence, Emotional Hurt, Disassociation, Suicidal Ideation, Depression.

A/N: Welcome back to this emotional rollercoaster, besties. We’ve got everything: cursed pregnancies, emotionally constipated men, and Sukuna trying to out-sass Megumi (spoiler: he succeeds), slow-burn tension finally snapping, emotionally broken men flirting with self-destruction, and a moment that might make you scream into your pillow (I’m not responsible for broken furniture). Warnings for angst, trauma, and me absolutely wrecking your heart while you laugh. If you’re here for a lobotomy, grab your scalpels—it’s about to get messy. Proceed with caution, tissues, and maybe a therapist on speed dial. Also, Megumi in this fic is maybe around mid-20s, and the reader is a few years older than him. He has mastered all his Shikigami's (yes, the 'with this treasure' one too) & is physically a Toji Hybrid. I have added links to show what he looks like. You are welcome. One Reader - Do you accept Cunt-structive Criticism? Me - No, I only accept Cash.

Previous Chapter 7 (alt ending 1.3) - Sapphire Echoes (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 8 (alt ending 1.4) - Fractured Tides

Japan

The news reached Gojo and Nanami through an anonymous tip—a voice crackling over the phone, sterile and detached.

“The fetuses didn’t survive,” the doctor confirmed. “The pregnancy... it was unlike anything ever thought possible. The details are in the report.”

Gojo’s hand trembled as he gripped the receiver, his knuckles blanching as the plastic creaked under the pressure. When the receiver finally snapped, shards scattering across the floor, he didn’t flinch. His vibrant arrogance—the trait that had once made him invincible—was gone, stripped away in an instant. His eyes, previously so full of light and mischief, stared blankly, reflecting nothing but the hollow void inside him.

Nanami stood nearby, his posture rigid, his knuckles white as he clenched the report. The paper crinkled audibly, but his grip didn’t loosen. His jaw was so tightly locked it seemed his teeth might shatter.

“How’s this possible?” He rasped, finally putting it down, his voice horse under the weight of his self-loathing.

Gojo didn’t respond. His silver tongue, always ready with a quip or a plan, was silent. The crushing tide of guilt drowned every thought before it could form.

The hospital report was worse than they could have imagined. The chimeric fetuses were described in clinical detail, every word a knife to the chest.

“Genetic abnormalities beyond comprehension,” it read. “The combination of heteropaternal superfecundation and double fertilization created anomalies incompatible with life.”

The accompanying images were worse than they had imagined.

The boy’s elongated limbs twisted unnaturally, his spine arching grotesquely, like a question mark formed from pain. The girl’s fused fingers curled inward, her malformed face locked in an expression that seemed almost accusing.

Their shared split-colored hair was a mockery—a cruel reminder of the selfish desires that had created them.

Nanami turned away, bile rising in his throat. “They never had a chance,” he whispered, his voice hollow and brittle.

Gojo slammed the folder shut, his chest heaving as if the act of breathing had become insurmountable. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t find a way to fix things.

They tried to reach you. Desperation bled into every call, every text, and every voicemail. Every call went unanswered. Every message was read and ignored.

“Please,” Gojo had whispered into the receiver one night, his voice breaking. “Just... just let us explain.”

Nanami heard him through the door but didn’t offer comfort. The weight of his guilt pressing him further into despair. His gaze was fixed on the amber liquid in his glass, as if it held the answers he sought.

The quiet became their enemy. In the stillness, the thoughts crept in, unbidden and relentless.

Nanami found himself walking along the Rainbow Bridge , which connected to Odaiba, late one night. The icy wind bit at his skin as he gazed out at the dark waters of Tokyo Bay. It was calm, inviting, a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind.

He imagined what it would feel like to let go—to sink into the cold embrace of the water. The thought brought a fleeting sense of relief.

Gojo had begun lingering at the Shinjuku-gyoemmae station, his sunglasses hiding the exhaustion etched into his face. He stood near the edge of the platform, the sound of approaching trains vibrating through his bones.

It would be quick, he thought. Easy.

At home, the pills in Nanami’s medicine cabinet whispered promises of peace. One bottle, one night, and it could all be over.

But neither of them acted.

Every time they came close, the thought of you stopped them. They couldn’t leave without seeing you again, without explaining, apologizing, begging for forgiveness.

But the shame at what they’d done to you, to the babies, kept them from coming to you in person. So they stuck to calling and texting, each unanswered attempt another nail in the coffin of their hope.

They lived in limbo, caught between the unbearable weight of their guilt and the faint, flickering hope that one day you might pick up the phone.

---

The moon cast a faint silver glow over the balcony, its edges softened by a thin mist that clung to the chilled air. You sat on the couch inside, barely illuminated by the warm, dim light of the apartment. A blanket draped over your shoulders, shielding you from the cold but not from the hollow ache in your chest.

Your eyes were glassy, unfocused, fixed on nothing as your fingers absently traced the edge of the blanket. The faint hum of the city below was a distant whisper, meaningless and detached from the void swallowing you whole.

The faint scuff of shoes against stone pulled at the edges of your awareness. A shadow moved across the street in front of your house. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t blink. Your mind was elsewhere in a memory.

His hair was jet black and damp, clinging to his forehead in unruly spikes, his jawline streaked with dirt and exhaustion. He wore a plain black shirt, torn and damp in places, and dark jeans that looked as though they’d seen weeks of wear. His piercing blue eyes were scanning the building before they landed on you.

He didn’t hesitate.

In one smooth motion, he climbed the window ledges on the floor below, then stepped up to the balcony railing and swung himself up, his movements eerily reminiscent of someone—fluid, predatory. He landed soundlessly on the edge, stepping inside with a casualness that belied the weight of his presence.

But this wasn’t the boy you’d known. This was a man carved from desperation and resolve, his presence filling the room with an intensity that felt both familiar and foreign. He looked older than you remembered—taller, broader. His hair was wild, falling in dark, uneven spikes over eyes that glinted like steel. He was dressed in plain clothes.

He frowned, stepping closer, his shadow falling over you. When you still didn’t react, he crossed the room in two strides, crouching down in front of you, his features softening with something close to pain. His hands hovered over your shoulder before finally nudging it.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, his voice low and rough, carrying the weight of months spent in pursuit.

You didn’t respond.

His brows furrowed as he stepped closer. “Hey,” he tried again, softer this time.

Still, you didn’t move.

His roughened fingers reached for your cheeks, his touch hesitant, a mere brush against the skin. “It’s me.”

Nothing.

His throat tightened, frustration flickering across his face He tilted his head to catch your gaze. “I’m not going anywhere until you say something,” he muttered, his voice edged with exasperation.

When you still didn’t react, he reached out again, this time giving your shoulder a firmer nudge.

Your eyes flicked to him at last, but they didn’t really see him. You stared through him, your expression glassy, as if replaying a memory too distant to touch.

The silence stretched taut and heavy.

His hands curled into fists as he rose to his full height, frustration and worry flickering across his face. He glanced toward the balcony, then back at you. The thought of leaving you like this wasn’t an option.

Then, from behind you, a presence surged forward—dark, commanding, and lethal.

Sukuna.

He appeared as though conjured from the shadows themselves, his crimson eyes burning with a dangerous gleam. His shirt hung open at the collar, his tattoos stark against his pale skin, and his lips curled into a predatory smirk. His crimson eyes burned like embers, and his lips curled in a snarl as his gaze stayed locked onto the man, narrowing with instant suspicion.

“Who the hell are you?” Sukuna’s voice was low, his tone dripping with menace as he stepped forward, placing himself between you and the intruder.

The man’s expression hardened as his stance shifted, one foot sliding back as though preparing for an attack, his eyes meeting Sukuna’s with the unyielding force of a man who’d long since stopped flinching at power. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Careful, brat,” Sukuna growled, his head tilting, his grin widening in warning. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

The tension between them snapped taut, like a bowstring pulled to its limit. Sukuna took a step forward, his fingers twitching as though itching for a fight. The room seemed to darken as his cursed energy spiked, the air thick with its oppressive weight. But the man didn’t flinch. His hand flicked upward, and with a snap, shadows began to writhe at his feet.

“Neither do you,” the man said, his voice sharp. His hands twitched, and the faint shimmer of cursed energy began to gather around him.

“Hey…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, cracking under the strain of its first use in days.

Neither man noticed.

Sukuna’s smirk widened as he cracked his knuckles, his cursed energy flaring brighter. “I don’t care who you are, but you’re about to regret—”

The floor beneath you trembled as the man’s hands moved in a familiar pattern, his fingers forming seals too quickly to follow.

The air shifted, a deep, guttural hum vibrating through the room. The shadow behind the man darkened, twisting and expanding.

“No!”

Your voice cut through the tension like a blade, startling after months of silence. Both men froze, their eyes snapping to you.

You stood, the blanket slipping off your shoulders as you moved to place yourself in front of the man, shielding him from Sukuna. “Please don’t. You both are not threats to me,” you spoke, your voice trembling with frustration.

You turned to the man, your voice rising. “I told you to stop doing that!”

“I thought he kidnapped you. I think that justifies it’s use.” The man muttered, pretending to be annoyed, but immediately moved to hold you.

Sukuna barked out a laugh. “Taken her? Kid, I’m the one keeping her safe from idiots like you.”

You awkwardly reciprocated.

Sukuna raised a brow, his gaze darting between you and the man. For a brief moment, his smirk softened, a flicker of something tender crossing his features as he watched you—you, alive and animated for the first time in months. That’s the most you’ve said in months —he thought to himself. He continued eyeing the spiky-haired man, wondering who he was and if he was a threat, but the way you were comfortable around him, Sukuna deduced he wasn’t connected to your idiotic husbands.

The man, however, frowned, his jaw tightening. “He—”

“Not a threat,” you said lowly. “Mahoraga isn’t for solving your problems with people who talk back.”

Sukuna folded his arms, leaning casually against the doorframe but watching Megumi like a hawk. “Kid’s got issues,” he muttered, his voice tinged with amusement.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back without thinking, letting go of Megumi and turning on Sukuna with a glare.

He blinked, then grinned, a warmth in his crimson eyes that made his smirk almost fond. “Fair point, princess.”

“You don’t look normal.”

“I’m fine,” you and Megumi both ignored Sukuna, though your voice cracked on the lie. But Sukuna didn’t correct you right now.

Megumi’s gaze kept searching your face for something—anything.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, though no one in the room believed it.

"Princess, I need to leave.” Sukuna had said, glaring at his phone. “Will you be okay for a few days? I have arranged for Choso and Yuji to be here within a few hours.”

“I’ll be fine. Megumi is my best friend; he will keep me safe.” You reassured him, while Megumi looked at him smugly with his arms now folded, muscles flexing.

“Call me if you need anything or if there’s an issue.” Sukuna told you, contemplating how mad you would be if he broke Megumi’s jaw.

You nodded as he turned to leave, answering a call. “I’m on my way, woman. Stop irritating me!”

Your heart sank.

He was going to meet a woman?!

Were you in love with him?

But how long would he wait for you?

// Playlist

After telling Megumi everything, the house was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the windchimes. He sat across from you on the couch, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly as if they were the only thing grounding him. His features were softened by the dim light, but the weight in his eyes made him look older than his years.

You sat opposite him, knees pulled to your chest, your arms wrapped around them. The blanket draped over your shoulders felt like a shield, though it did little to protect you from the storm inside.

For a long time, neither of you spoke.

“You were right,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Megumi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. “What?”

“I was wrong,” you said, your gaze fixed on a crack in the marble on the floor. “About everything. About them. About leaving you behind.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, the guilt in his expression enough to cut. “You don’t have to say that.”

“But it’s true,” you said, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “You warned me. You told me what they were like, what would happen, and I didn’t listen. I was so convinced I could handle it on my own that I pushed you away.”

Megumi let out a shaky breath, his hands flexing as if trying to grasp the weight of his emotions. “And I shouldn’t have said what I did. At the airport, I—” He swallowed hard, his voice breaking under the strain. “I was angry. Hurt. But that doesn’t excuse it. I said awful things to you, and I’ve hated myself for it every single day since. I was a coward, too afraid to reach out to you when you needed me most.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued, the pain evident in every word. “Then what happened at your HQ... They were live streaming it on the news, and I was terrified, praying you’d make it out alive. But when they said you weren’t there, my heart dropped. No one knew where you had gone. I felt so helpless, so lost. I’ve been searching for you ever since, haunted by the fear that I might never find you again.”

The words hung between you, raw and heavy.

“I think...” you started, your voice trembling. “I think we both thought we were doing the right thing. You wanted to protect me, and I wanted to prove I didn’t need it, too blinded by what I thought was love.”

Megumi’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes glinting. “I should’ve been there. When it all fell apart, when they—” His voice cracked, and he looked away. “I should’ve come sooner.”

“And I should’ve called you,” you said, your chest tightening. “But I was ashamed. I didn’t want you to see how far I’d fallen.”

His gaze snapped back to yours. “You don’t have to hide from me. Ever. You never did. Sure, I’d yell at you or even tell you I was right, but I’d never not help you.”

The words broke something inside you, and for the first time in months, the tears came. They fell silently at first, then harder, your shoulders shaking as the dam burst.

Megumi moved without hesitation, closing the distance between you and pulling you into his arms. His grip was strong, grounding, and you clung to him like a lifeline. “I should have stayed in touch with you even if I didn’t agree with the decision in case you ever needed me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice rough. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m so sorry, Megumi,” you whispered against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry for not listening, for abandoning you, for never trying again, for not honoring your dad.”

“I’m so sorry for the... the babies.” He spoke low as if he were blaming himself.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you cried harder, clutching his shirt.

---

// Playlist

Japan

Gojo sat on the edge of the couch, his white shirt wrinkled and stained, hanging loose on his frame. His eyes rimmed red, their usual brilliance dulled. His hand clutched a half-empty bottle of whiskey, the amber liquid sloshing as he tipped it back.

Across the room, Nanami stood by the kitchen sink, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He stared at his hands under the running water, scrubbing them long past clean, as if the act could erase the guilt embedded in his skin.

The silence between them was broken only by Gojo’s muttered curses as he took another swig.

“You should eat,” Nanami said finally, his voice hoarse.

Gojo snorted, the sound bitter. “Coming from the guy who hasn’t touched his plate in days.”

Nanami didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he shut off the water.

Gojo leaned back, his head resting against the couch, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Do you ever wonder,” he said, his voice slurring slightly, “if it would’ve been better if we’d never...” He trailed off, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Nanami turned slowly, his gaze hard and unyielding. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Gojo shot back, his voice rising. “Say what we’re both thinking? That we—”

“I said don’t,” Nanami snapped. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white.

Gojo let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You think not saying it changes anything? They’re gone, Kento. And it’s our fault.”

Nanami flinched, the words hitting him like a blow. He turned away, his shoulders stiff as he gripped the edge of the counter. “I know that,” he said quietly, his voice trembling. “I know that every second of every day.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of their shared guilt pressing down on them.

Later that night, Gojo sat alone on the balcony, the cold biting at his skin. He held a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling into the air like a ghost. He hadn’t smoked in years, but tonight it felt like the only thing keeping him grounded.

Nanami appeared in the doorway, a glass of scotch in hand. He didn’t say anything as he stepped outside, sitting on the opposite end of the balcony.

They didn’t look at each other, their gazes fixed on the city below.

Gojo’s sudden laugh was hollow, a broken sound that made Nanami’s chest tighten.

“I keep seeing them,” Gojo murmured, his hand tightening around the cigarette. “Every time I close my eyes. I see their faces. Their hair. Their... their little hands.” His voice cracked, and he fell silent, his shoulders trembling.

Nanami’s grip on his glass tightened, the faint clink of ice against glass the only sound he made.

“They didn’t even get a chance,” Gojo continued, his voice thick with emotion. “We robbed them of that.”

Nanami’s expression unreadable. “Every time I close my eyes, they’re there. And her. The way she looked at us... or didn’t. Like we weren’t even worth hating.”

Gojo turned to him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Then why are we still here, Kento? Why are we still—”

“Because we don’t deserve peace,” Nanami interrupted, his voice harsh. “Not yet. Not until we’ve done everything we can to make it right. Even if she never forgives us.”

Gojo stared at him, his chest heaving as he tried to process the words.

They sat in silence after that, the weight of their guilt hanging heavy between them. The city lights blurred into a haze, and the distant sounds of life carried on, oblivious to the two broken men on the balcony.

Neither of them moved, each lost in their own spiral, but for the first time in weeks, the silence between them felt less like a void and more like a shared burden. A small, flickering reminder that they weren’t entirely alone.

---

// Playlist

The days passed in a haze. Choso and Yuji were sunshines around Megumi’s age, who moved to the lower floor, but you didn’t have much energy to interact with new people. Sukuna called you every few hours.

Megumi stayed with you. He didn’t leave, didn’t push, just existed in your space like a quiet force of nature.

He cooked meals, both your favorites growing up, and sat with you while you ate, even if it was just a few bites. And when the nightmares came, he was there, his hand steady on your shoulder, until the panic subsided.

A few days later, Sukuna returned and obsered it all with narrowed eyes, his irritation barely concealed.

One evening, Megumi was trying to coax you into taking a walk. “Fresh air,” he said, standing by the door with his arms crossed. “It’ll do you good.”

“I’m fine here,” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch.

“She doesn’t need to go anywhere,” Sukuna cut in from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “She’s safe here.”

Megumi turned, his eyes narrowing. “Safe doesn’t mean healthy. What would you know, old man? You probably can’t walk at your age with your arthritis.”

“I’m not old, brat. I will fight you!” Sukuna shot back, his tone mocking.

“With what? Your walking stick?!,” Megumi snapped, his voice rising.

You couldn’t help it—the sheer absurdity of their bickering—it pulled a laugh from your chest. It was small, tentative, but real.

Both men froze, their eyes snapping to you.

“Did she just—” Sukuna started, his eyes wide.

“She laughed,” Megumi confirmed, his tone somewhere between disbelief and triumph.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, the sound foreign even to you. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice muffled.

“Don’t be,” Sukuna said, his smirk returning as he leaned against the wall. “If I’d known it was this easy, I would’ve let him insult me sooner.”

“I’d do it for free,” Megumi said, looking at you, fingers twitching to pat himself on the back.

Sukuna’s grin widened. “Of course, it’s not like anyone would pay to watch you.” He fired back at Megumi, still looking at you.

You laughed again, the sound freer this time, and the tension in the room shifted.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on your chest lightened.

After a beat, you calmed down and said, “I’d like to go back to work.”

Both nodded.

After that day, it became their unspoken mission to make you laugh as often as possible.

One afternoon, Sukuna conjured a miniature version of himself—barely six inches tall—who stomped across the coffee table, shouting, “Fear me, mortals!” in a voice far too high-pitched to be taken seriously.

Megumi, who was seated at the kitchen island, raised an eyebrow. “That’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna shot back, gesturing dramatically toward Mini-Sukuna. “At least I’m creative.”

Without missing a beat, Megumi summoned a tiny shikigami—a shadowy cat with glowing eyes—that pounced on Mini-Sukuna and promptly sat on him.

Meanwhile, you sat at the dining table, trying (and failing) to hide your laughter behind a mug of tea.

Another day the apartment was quiet except for the sizzling sound coming from the kitchen. Sukuna stood near the couch, holding a plate of food that looked… edible, but only in the way emergency rations were. His expression screamed confidence, as if he’d just solved world hunger.

In reality he was just jealous that Megumi had overtaken cooking since arriving, and he wasn’t able to feed you.

On the other side of the kitchen island, Megumi was frying something in a pan with the kind of intensity usually reserved for life-or-death surgeries. His sleeves were rolled up.

“You’re going to eat this,” Sukuna declared, stabbing the air with his fork.

“Like hell she is,” Megumi shot back without looking up, flipping whatever he was cooking with the ease of someone who’d spent years perfecting it. “She deserves something decent. Not whatever cursed sludge you’re trying to pass off as food. I’m making her comfort food.”

“She hasn’t touched your so-called food in days. She’s barely eaten anything. Mine’s nutritional,” Sukuna growled, stepping closer to the island.

“It’s an insult to taste buds,” Megumi countered, grabbing a plate and dishing out his creation—a simple, golden-brown omelet.

From your spot on the couch, you sighed, leaning your head against your hand. You weren’t sure what was worse: the fact that they were arguing over who got to feed you or that they seemed genuinely ready to fight about it.

“Hey,” you said, your voice flat, “I’m right here. I can feed myself.”

Both men ignored you.

“She hasn’t eaten properly in days,” Sukuna said, his crimson eyes narrowing. “I’ve been keeping her alive.”

“Barely,” Megumi muttered, sliding the plate across the counter. “She used to like this when we were younger.”

“She’s not a kid anymore, brat,” Sukuna sneered, taking a bite of his own creation as if to prove its worth. “She needs real food.”

“And you think that is real food?” Megumi shot back, nodding toward Sukuna’s plate. “It looks like you scraped it off the floor of an incomplete domain.”

“It’s better than whatever bland crap you’re making,” Sukuna retorted, leaning closer.

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Seriously, you two—”

“Stay out of this,” they both said in unison, their voices sharp enough to make you blink.

You were trying to hide a chuckle at how serious they both were about their cooking.

Megumi crossed his arms, smirking. “Look, she’s laughing at you.”

“Watch it, brat,” Sukuna growled, his energy crackling faintly.

“Oh, please,” Megumi said, rolling his eyes. “You’re just mad she liked my cooking better.”

“She hasn’t even tried your cooking,” Sukuna snapped, his grip tightening on the fork. “And she won’t, because it looks like a toddler made it.”

“Better than your attempt at weaponized nutrition,” Megumi shot back.

The bickering continued, insults flying back and forth with increasing absurdity. By the time Sukuna accused Megumi of “summoning Mahoraga to chop onions,” you were doubled over, tears streaming down your face as you laughed harder than you had in months.

Your employees had welcomed you back with open arms while you still chose to work remotely. But the lack of light in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

But instead of bombarding you with questions, they took matters into their own hands.

During a virtual meeting, your CTO appeared on camera dressed as a game character, complete with poorly made props and a monologue.

“Fear not, boss,” he declared, brandishing a foam sword. “I shall vanquish the deadlines!”

The entire team erupted into cheers, clapping as he pretended to fight off invisible enemies.

Another time, your marketing manager created a meme slideshow of your company’s latest release, complete with captions like, “When the servers crash but the players still think it’s part of the game.”

Even Sukuna got in on it, lurking just off-camera during a meeting to mutter sarcastic commentary loud enough for you to hear.

“Do they always sound this unhinged?” he asked during a particularly chaotic brainstorming session.

“Yes,” you replied, your lips twitching into a small smile.

During a virtual meeting, one of your lead designers appeared on camera wearing a cardboard replica of a game console, complete with buttons that actually lit up. “Presenting the latest in gaming technology!” he announced, spinning in his chair.

“Is that a fire hazard?” you asked, unable to stop the corner of your mouth from twitching.

“Probably,” he replied, grinning.

Your PR team wasn’t any better. They sent you a PowerPoint presentation titled, Why Our Boss Deserves to Laugh More , which included memes of your favorite characters, clips of game glitches they’d purposely caused, and an oddly heartfelt slide featuring a stick figure version of you labeled, The Coolest CEO Ever .

---

Megumi stayed for as long as he could and then had to return to take care of his mom and his company once you started to feel better.

The air buzzed with the familiar hum of distant conversations and the faint echo of footsteps on polished floors. Megumi stood by the entrance, his duffel bag at his feet, his shoulders tense despite the calm mask he wore.

“I’ll come back in a few days with Mom, okay?” he said, his voice softer than usual as he pulled you into a hug. His arms were strong, grounding, but there was a hesitance in the way he held you, like he wasn’t ready to let go. “She’s been worried sick since you stopped talking after leaving Japan. She asks about you every day.”

You nodded against his chest, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Tell her to video call me. I miss her.”

“I will,” he murmured, ruffling your hair in that infuriatingly fond way he knew you hated. “The moment I land.”

You stepped back, your eyes darting anywhere but his. “Take care of yourself, Megumi. And her. She doesn’t listen to anyone but you.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk, his dark eyes flicking over you like he was cataloging every detail. “You should talk, hypocrite.”

Your snort was half-hearted, but it was enough for him.

This goodbye was nothing like the one all those years ago. Back then, his anger had burned through the distance between you, his words cutting deep enough to leave scars you both carried. Now, there was only understanding—an unspoken truce built on shared pain and quiet forgiveness.

Megumi’s gaze shifted to Sukuna, who stood a few feet away, arms crossed and clearly bored. With a tilt of his head, Megumi motioned him over.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “What now, brat?” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as he approached.

You watched them from a distance, your old DSLR— Megumi had brought back with him—in hand. The click of the shutter was oddly comforting, a rhythm that let you focus on something other than the ache in your chest. Yuji and Choso hovered nearby, pestering you with questions about aperture and lighting. You answered absently, your eyes never leaving the two figures standing just out of earshot—the most important men in your life. So important, your very essence was tangled with them, unlike the way it used to be with someone else.

“What do you want?” Sukuna muttered, his tone dripping with disinterest.

Megumi’s voice was steady; he was smiling, all friendly and unsuspecting. The way he smiled while threatening people—oddly reminiscent of Toji on an adult Megumi. “Keep her safe. Or I’ll gut you alive.”

Sukuna barked out a laugh, loud and sharp. “Bold, brat. But I’m not an idiot like them.” His grin widened, his crimson eyes gleaming. “I don’t take my eyes away from the destination for snowflakes.”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed, his posture shifting slightly, like he was ready for a fight. “She’s not a prize, Sukuna.”

“No,” Sukuna agreed, crossing his arms. “She’s everything. That’s why I won’t screw it up.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “But don’t tell me you’re in love with her, brat. You’re already pathetic enough.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened, his face a mask of calm, but the faintest flicker flashed in his eyes. Before he could respond, Yuji’s voice rang out from behind you.

“Stay in touch, Megumi!”

Megumi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as Sukuna chuckled.

Yuji had stuck to Megumi like pollen ever since they’d met. Whenever he walked out of your floor to get anything, or even went to the balcony for air, Yuji would immediately pounce on him like an overbearing puppy, talking like they had always known each other.

“Your fan club’s waiting,” Sukuna teased, stepping back with a mocking wave.

Megumi shot him a cold look before turning on his heel, his suitcase rolling behind him. He paused just long enough to glance over his shoulder at you, still clicking away with your camera.

“I’m getting late,” he said, his voice louder now, directed at no one in particular. “See you around.”

And just like that, he was gone, his silhouette swallowed by the steady flow of travelers.

You lowered the camera, watching the space he’d left behind. Sukuna sauntered over, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Miss him already?” He drawled.

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth twitched. “Shut up, Ryo.”

He chuckled, his gaze flicking to the camera in your hands. “Better get my good side next time. Wouldn’t want the brat to outshine me in your collection.”

You let yourself mock him. “He’s my best friend; of course he’ll shine.”

“Here I thought we were at least friends by now,” Sukuna shot back, his grin widening as he dragged you back to the car while also wrangling Choso and Yuji.

But nothing could have prepared you for the spectacle unfolding in front of you. Yuji stood precariously on a luggage cart, holding what looked like a security baton he must’ve stolen from somewhere.

“Onward, noble steed!” Yuji bellowed, jabbing the baton forward.

Choso, pushing the cart, sighed heavily. “Yuji, this is dumb. You’re going to fall, and I’m not paying for the damages.”

“You don’t pay for anything anyway!” Yuji shot back, wobbling as the cart veered dangerously close to a potted plant.

“Not my fault you’re the one with no sense of balance,” Choso deadpanned, shoving the cart harder.

“Balance is for losers!” Yuji yelled triumphantly—right before the cart hit a bump and sent him tumbling onto the floor with a loud thud.

You burst out laughing, clutching your camera as you tried to steady yourself. Sukuna groaned.

“Do these idiots have a death wish?” He muttered, glancing at you. “Why do I let them out in public?”

“They’re grown adults,” you replied between fits of laughter, wiping a tear from your eye. “Well... Technically. Have been for a few years.”

Yuji scrambled to his feet, rubbing his ass with an exaggerated pout. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Choso!”

“I was until you called me a steed,” Choso replied, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “You’re lucky I didn’t throw you into that plant.”

“You’re just mad because I’m faster,” Yuji shot back, grabbing the cart again.

“Faster at what? Hitting the ground?” Choso said, raising an eyebrow.

Sukuna snorted, his crimson eyes narrowing as he gestured toward the two. “You know what? Let him break something. Maybe he’ll finally learn.”

“Doubt it,” you said, grinning.

Yuji, undeterred by his earlier failure, climbed back onto the cart. “Round two! Let’s go!”

Choso sighed again, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he grabbed the handle. “Fine. But if security catches us, I’m blaming you.”

“You always blame me!” Yuji whined, holding on tighter this time.

“Because it’s always your fault,” Choso replied, shoving the cart with a bit more force than necessary.

As the cart barreled down the terminal, narrowly missing several unsuspecting travelers, you and Sukuna watched in bemused silence.

“You should film this,” Sukuna said, his lips curling into a smirk. “Might go viral. ‘Local lesbian and his Itadorki.’”

You doubled over laughing while Yuji and Choso glared at Sukuna.

Later that evening, the chaos of the airport was a distant memory as you and Sukuna sat together on the couch. The quiet was comforting, the kind of stillness that didn’t feel heavy for once.

“Thank you,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Sukuna turned to you, his expression unreadable. “For what?”

“For… everything,” you said, your cheeks heating under his gaze.

He smirked, leaning back against the cushions. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. The weight on your chest lifted just a little, replaced by something warm and unfamiliar.

But the mornings still clawed at you like ghosts, dragging you into the suffocating reality of what you’d lost. The ache in your chest wasn’t a dull pain but a jagged wound, raw and unrelenting. But Sukuna was there, always.

Without fail, he brought you breakfast in bed, the tray heavy with whatever he decided you needed to eat that day. You’d protest, pushing the plate aside, focusing on pending work, and he’d glare, the kind of glare that made it clear he wouldn’t leave until you took at least a few bites.

When he walked with you in the park, his hand brushed your lower back, a gesture so casual yet grounding it left you disarmed. He didn’t say much, but his presence filled the empty spaces in ways words never could. Slowly, painfully, the walls you’d built began to crack, the light seeping through despite your efforts to hold it all together.

// Playlist

A couple of weeks later, one evening, the two of you sat on the balcony of your new home, the air heavy with the scent of cigarettes and rain-soaked concrete. You rested your chin on your knees, watching the city lights blur into a smear of orange and white.

“You’re not as awful as you pretend to be,” you murmured, breaking the silence.

Sukuna chuckled, the sound deep and rough. He lit a cigarette with practiced ease, the glow illuminating his features. “Don’t ruin my reputation, princess,” he drawled, exhaling smoke like a dragon.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest. It felt foreign, but it didn’t hurt. Not this time.

You reached for the cigarette, plucking it from his fingers. Taking a slow drag, you coughed, the burn familiar but unwelcome after years away. “You know,” you started, voice quieter now, “I never wanted kids. I even got a hysterectomy, but... I think their RCT might’ve worked on me.”

Sukuna leaned back, smirking as if the universe amused him. “Good thing I hate brats too,” he said, his tone laced with mockery but softened by something genuine. “But I’d be fine either way you lean. I care more about you than any kid.”

You tilted your head, a sly smile tugging at your lips. “So confident I’d end up with you, huh?”

He nodded, the movement slow and deliberate.

The words spilled from you before you could stop them. “But I’m sure. I don’t want any more kids. I’m done.”

His grin widened, sharp and wolfish. “Great. Then I’ll have you all to myself,” he said, plucking the cigarette from your hand and taking a drag as if the conversation hadn’t just carved open a vulnerable piece of you.

You watched him for a moment, the question heavy on your tongue before you gave in to it. “Why are you still here? I mean... you’re attractive, Sukuna. You could have anyone. Why’d you help me?”

He exhaled smoke slowly, his gaze cutting to yours. “You really want to know?”

You nodded, feeling the tension coil in the air between you.

“The first time I saw you was at that dingy grocery store near our building in Norway. You were glaring at a Norwegian label like you could burn it into understanding if you stared hard enough.” He smirked, the memory vivid in his mind. “Then some store employee came over, and you covered your belly like you’d fight him if he even looked at you wrong. You were scared—hell, I’ve seen fear before, plenty of it—but yours was different. The kind I’d seen in survivors—the kind that said you’ve been through hell and still haven’t given up. There was this stubbornness in your eyes, like you’d fight to your last breath even knowing you’d lose.”

His voice dipped lower, his eyes locking onto yours. “That’s when I knew I wanted to know you more. Then you walked past me like I didn’t exist. You didn’t even glance my way. I knew right then you weren’t a sorcerer. You were oblivious, but your fear begged me to protect you. Practically dared me.”

A laugh escaped you, soft but real. “Or maybe you just couldn’t handle a woman not noticing you,” you teased, though your gaze lingered on him, soft and awed, like he’d hung the stars just for you.

His grin sharpened, dangerous yet intoxicating. Without warning, he flicked the cigarette over the railing, his hand shooting out to grab your waist. You gasped as he pulled you flush against him, his heat burning through your defenses.

His lips crashed into yours, the kiss anything but gentle. It was raw, demanding, and devastatingly sensual, as if he was trying to claim every fractured piece of you. Your hands instinctively found his chest, but instead of pushing him away, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours, coaxing you into a rhythm that left you breathless. Your head tilted back as his hand tangled in your hair, the other anchoring you to him. The world blurred around you, the city’s hum fading into nothingness.

When you finally broke apart, your chest heaved, your lips tingling from the intensity. His crimson eyes bore into yours, a smirk playing on his lips. “Still think I’m not worth noticing, princess?” he murmured, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you smiled, leaning into him, the ache in your chest momentarily quieted by the storm he’d stirred in you.

---

Japan

// Playlist

The apartment was silent, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards and the faint hum of the refrigerator. It had been months since Gojo and Nanami had received the news, but the weight of it hadn’t lifted. If anything, it had grown heavier, pressing them into themselves, into the shadows of their shared space.

Gojo sat in the darkness of their penthouse, the glow of the city outside mocking him with its indifference. The blinds were drawn just enough for the neon lights to cast fractured shadows across the floor. His sunglasses sat abandoned on the table, forgotten. His eyes—once impossibly bright, reflecting the limitless sky—were bloodshot and hollow, the kind of emptiness that no amount of sleep could fix.

His phone buzzed on the table, a cruel reminder of the hundred unanswered messages he’d already sent. He stared at it for a moment, his hand twitching toward it before falling back to his lap.

He chuckled, the sound sharp and bitter. “Why bother?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his unkempt hair. The white strands fell limply, no longer carrying their usual defiance.

Across the penthouse in your old office, Nanami sat with the glass in his hand, the amber liquid inside untouched. He stared at it, his reflection distorted by the curve of the glass.

He thought of the twins. Their faces haunted him—not as they were in the sterile images of the report, but as they could have been. A boy with Gojo’s wild grin and his own steady gaze. A girl with your sharp wit and quiet strength.

He raised the glass to his lips but hesitated, the smell of alcohol turning his stomach. With a quiet curse, he set it down, the sound of glass on wood too loud in the silence.

The train station was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and stayed there. Gojo stood near the edge of the platform, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. The sound of the approaching train grew louder, the vibration humming through his feet.

He stepped closer, the yellow line glaring up at him like a warning.

Just one step.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration jolting him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out, the screen lighting up with another name that wasn’t yours.

Yuta.

He hesitated before answering, his voice cracking as he said, “What?”

“Sensei?” Yuta’s voice was hesitant, like he was trying to gauge how far Gojo had fallen. “I just... wanted to check on you. You’ve been... quiet. We heard you were suspended.”

Gojo let out a dry laugh, stepping back from the edge. “Quiet’s good, isn’t it?”

There was a long pause on the other end. “You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Maybe I’m not,” Gojo replied, ending the call before Yuta could say anything else.

The Rainbow Bridge stretched out before him, its lights reflected in the dark waters below. Nanami gripped the railing, the cold metal biting into his palms. The wind whipped through his hair, tugging at his jacket like it was trying to pull him over the edge.

He leaned forward, staring down at the waves.

He thought of you. Of your smile before everything went wrong. Of the way you used to laugh at his dry humor, your head tilted just slightly.

The phone in his pocket felt like a lead weight. He pulled it out, his thumb hovering over your name.

What could he even say?

The words felt heavy, impossible. Instead, he stared at the screen until it dimmed, the reflection of his hollow face staring back at him.

At home, Gojo stared at the bottle of pills on his nightstand, his hand hovering over the cap. His reflection in the nearby mirror caught his eye—he barely recognized the man staring back.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered, the words slicing through the silence.

Nanami sat on the floor of his bathroom, his back against the wall. The report sat beside him, its pages wrinkled and stained with spilled whiskey.

“They never had a chance,” he whispered, the words tasting like ash.

Both men lived in the silence, haunted by memories of what could have been. The world moved on around them, but they were stuck, trapped in a purgatory of their own making.

The only thing keeping them tethered to this existence was the faint hope that, one day, you might pick up the phone. One day, you might let them explain. One day, you might forgive them.

But for now, they waited, drowning in the unbearable weight of their own guilt.

A/N: And that’s how we turn pain into comedy and back again. I know you’re emotionally damaged (same). Who do you think was the woman Sukuna went to meet? (Hint: It's not Urame, so use your critical thinking skills). Meanwhile, Gojo and Nanami are one bad day away from booking permanent balcony seats in purgatory. Next chapter, we might actually let Nanami catch a break—or not. What do you think? Should Gojo finally punch Sukuna for calling him a ‘failed Barbie’? But seriously, next chapter—more tension, more heartbreak; maybe someone actually admits how they feel and SUMT (don't expect too much; I'm not very good at it).

Next Chapter 9 (alt ending 1.5 Final Part) - The Shadows We Bury - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Also I have a seprate fluff series going on which can be read as part of this AU - Bubble Butt Problems - Nanami X Reader X Gojo - (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz

Taglist Open - If I missed to tag anyone, please remind me.

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tinystepsforward · 9 months ago

Text

automattic vs wp engine mastterpost

adrienne's GitHub recap is probably the best place to see a comprehensive timeline of what's going down. it's been kept up to date. my (very out of date) previous writeup is here.

what's happened/other links

Matt has not logged off, just switched platforms, so there's lots on X/Twitter, Reddit, and Hacker News. it's really not worth wading through.

WP Engine actually filed suit.

the complaint includes some truly remarkable screenshots of Matt trying to blackmail the CEO of WP Engine.

which... personally i would not happily work for someone who just blackmailed me while not even my boss, but that's just me. he hasn't denied this at all, in fact confirming on Hacker News:

I haven't doxxed any private texts from other parties like they have. [source]

and, notably,

I even invited her to my 40th birthday on Jan 11, another text message she decided not to share. [source]

this gives me the creeps. in the context of the rest of the way he's talking to her, and the ways in which he's interacted with women in general, it's. not great.

also he slid into an ex-employee (also a woman)'s DMs asking why she was being mean to him bc he'd never been nothing but nice to her, while also making legal threats. so y'know, pattern of behaviour.

a good writeup of the social side of things

if you don't care so much about the open-source stuff, Steph Lundberg's writeup is, like her previous one on Matt's Tumblr meltdown, pretty solid and people-focused.

Mullenweg has already demonstrated egregious lapses in judgment and abuses of power, it’s just that up until now he’s wielded his power against vulnerable populations without access to high-powered lawyers and their own massive platforms.

a more technical writeup

this one is melodramatic in the same ways Matt was (uses war terminology), which i don't agree with, and which led to some... internal arguments at Automattic. that part's not my story to tell, but a little more on that later. it's a solid writeup of the actual WordPress side of things. there's some seriously dodgy trademark behaviour going on here.

of note: this blogger locked comments on his post:

and then Matt, uh, found a way around that:

wild!

10% of Automattic leaves

that's a link to Matt's blog post. here's an Internet Archive link.

in short, staff were offered a severance deal of the higher of $30k or six months' salary. while that's very generous, it's still very risky in today's tech market, especially (for the same reasons i mentioned when Matt was melting down on here) for people outside the US, people who need the health insurance, or people with young kids. despite that, 10% decided with very little notice (they had two days to decide) to leave.

However now, I feel much lighter. I’m grateful and thankful for all the people who took the offer, and even more excited to work with those who turned down $126M to stay. As the kids say, LFG!

i'm thrilled to see some of my ex-colleagues make it out. i'm keeping the rest who have stayed on in my thoughts. i don't know anyone who's wholesale shilling for Matt.

Matt's been pressuring staff to post in support of him, @-ing the entire company to vote on Twitter polls in his favor, and so on. many of the people who stayed have written blog posts about it, all starting with "I stayed". people on social media have pointed out the very clear pattern of Automatticians jumping into discourse to defend Matt, and it doesn't look good.

i don't have a lot to say about those posts, except to highlight Jeffrey Zeldman, whose "I stayed" post is perhaps one of the more honest ones. (his Rodney King reference was in poor taste, and he... i don't like his role at automattic, tbc) but like. he's nearly 70. he helped shape the modern internet and develop its accessibility standards. he has often put his neck on the line for disabled staff who don't have as much clout as he does. given the financial troubles he talks about and the state of this market and how old he is, i personally have read between the lines of what he's saying in a particular way.

fuck, man. i'm sad. i'm sad for all my friends who are creaking under the strain and watching others leave but who can't do that. i'm sad that many of them are left in teams which are half-empty or divisions where significant senior leadership are just gone, with no time to document what they had in progress.

i'm sad for Josepha Haden Chomphosy, the former executive director of the WordPress Foundation, who was dealing with a personal emergency and ended up having to miss WordCamp US (where Matt started publicly starting shit with WPE). she came back from that to a gigantic fire in the community she's invested a decade of careful, Matt-negotiating, stewardship to, and decided to take the severance offer. she deserved better.

other things Matt's been up to

mostly linking to comments or posts which compile things here, bc it's too scattered otherwise.

blocking people from the official WordPress X account if they disapprove of his actions.

publicly talking about a vulnerability in ACF, a plugin WPE maintains, which could put thousands of sites at risk. this is not normal, and he met with so much horror even from current staff that he deleted his post.

saying he comes across badly because he's "a little ASD", which is driving me personally up the fucking wall. he's never once said it before and he really is turning into Temu Elon.

generally bragging that he still has more planned. jesus fucking christ

continually saying that WPE's suit is against WordPress.org and the community, which is not true. on which note, his pinned tweet is certainly something:

his choice of lawyer is uh. the kind of guy to defend nestle against literal child slaves.

as always, while i think WordPress crumbling will disproportionately affect websites in poorer parts of the world, there are certainly tyrants who are causing much more immediate and potent suffering. if you've read this far, please do send anything you have spare to gazafunds.com.

#long post #automattic #tumblr meta #this is not a complete writeup. adrienne's link does better #but here's a few things of interest to tumblr probably ig #tony muses

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petalbcrnes · 3 months ago

Text

I did a bit of research about the 'Tumblr getting shut down' rumour, and while I am not an expert in any of this, I just wanted to make a post for anyone following my account and my dear moots.

**info on this post will be updated systematically.

The rumour sparked because of tumblr staff being fired. Some are saying, this is connected to the tries to make tumblr even more profitable. They want to spend less money on staff, (from what I've read and been informed by others) so in the end the money they get is even more and in turn, even more profitable.

In the article, it said: In Wednesday’s announcement, Mullenweg explained that the newly announced layoffs will allow Automattic to become “more agile and responsive,” “break down silos that have created inefficiencies,” “focus on product quality,” and “ensure a viable financial model for long-term success.”

In automattic's post explaining this situation, they called this an "Restructuring Announcement". CEO Matt Mullenweg shared with Automattic employees the following message: This restructuring will result in an approximately 16% workforce reduction. This process is complex with Automatticians in 90 countries.

Of course, I've heard rumours like these for a lot of apps and they are currently fine and still running. Though, the discussion about all of this is still important. We need to remember profits and investments for tumblr is still important. Tumblr isn't a non-profit like ao3 is. They need the funds investors give, or they go bankrupt. Plus, ao3 is text based, Tumblr isn't. It needs even more funds because of that. So making it dependent on donations isn't going to work.

There are ways to protect yourself. So don't worry. Listen to those with a better understanding of this. One of the best advice I've heard is to be ready to back up your blog.

How to back up your blog?

It might actually be only a rumour and nothing more. (I second this)

The loss they'd have from complete shut down would be MUCH greater that the possible profit loss they have now. Social media sites like these don't get shut down just like this. I genuinely do not believe it will be shut down. The argument brought forward is pretty weak under heavy scrutiny. There's isn't an overall reason for it.

Were to go if you need a similar platform like Tumblr? There are sites like pillowfort, dreamwidth, mastadon, livejournal, (for mature blogs, alot of go to fetlife).

***For my dear moots, I will reblog this soon with my other socials. I love you all dearly and I do not want to contact.

***Again, don't panic. That's the last thing we need.

tags: @minorlyatfault @jjsblueberry @pjxcksonswrd @gibsluv @yintous @corpsedogs

#this is important

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gloomwitchwrites · 6 months ago

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Holiday Break Announcement

I’m officially off work until Jan. 6th. I am also taking a step back from Tumblr until after the New Year. I have plenty of stuff in the queue so you will see daily content from me. Other than answering direct messages or anything that might need immediate attention, I will be taking a break until Jan. 1st. I will still be active on Ao3 during this break.

While I try not to post anything personal on here, I am mostly taking a step back during my break because it’s been a hellish week (and really a hellish several years.)

For those of you that don’t know (because some of you do), I work in education. Students and school personnel go to work every day under the threat of violence. In 2024 alone, there have been 323 school shootings. And yet, somehow, we are supposed to sympathize and care about one dead healthcare CEO. They have endless resources for billionaires but only thoughts and prayers for dead kids.

I’m tired (yet again) and not the least bit surprised. And I need a break (especially since I walk right into state-mandated active shooter training when I return.) While I’ll be writing, and spending time with friends and family, I’m mostly spending my time with my community.

To my American readers and followers, if you aren’t already: organize. You have more in common with the people you pass on the street every day than the people who control the means of production and the rule of law. You can still read (and write fanfiction) while making the people in power uncomfy. It’s not one or the other. You can do both. Remember, they’re outnumbered.

For those that celebrate, Happy Holidays! I’ll see y’all again in the New Year!

~Poppy (Gloomy)

#gloomy announcement #gloomwitchwrites

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aconites · 2 months ago

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guess who's back from hiatus...! i hope 2025 is treating you well, mine has been quite hectic but things have finally calmed down which means i have time to write again. that being said, if you want to do threads with someone who will message you with random headcanons, musings and create graphics (manips, crackships, edits, etc ) for our characters — look no further. i also love to do multiple plots with the same partner. bellow the cut you’ll find a list of wanted faceclaims, opposites, ships and plots that i would love to do and if anything catches your interest please give this post a like and i’ll message you. this is for mutuals & non mutuals, so feel free to like this even if we have threads/plots happening already!

faceclaims i’d love to play!

* adria arjona** * madelyn cline** * melissa barrera** * camila morrone** * greta onieogou** * ana de armas * minka kelly** *cierra ramirez * michelle randolph * sydney taylor* *hannah dodd (in a bridgerton/period plot) * alisha boe (in a bridgerton/period plot) * mickey madison * sophie thatcher* * isabela merced *savannah lee smith * nicole wallace * agatha o'hara * phoebe tonkin** * margot robbie * camila queiroz* *sydney sweeney* *hande ercel * alycia debnam-carey* * simone ashley * melisa pamuk * olivia cooke * maia reficco * grace van patten* * jessica alexander** * meghann fahy * suki waterhouse * adelaide kane (in a bridgerton/period plot) * florence pugh * sophia bush * lily james (in a bridgerton/period plot) * gabriella wilde * sofia carson * danielle rose russell * danielle campbell * abigail cowen* * jenna ortega (v selective) *camila mendes * gemma chan * zendaya * sabrina carpenter

faceclaims i’d love to play against!

* all the ladies above * pedro pascal**** (loml) *damian hardung*** *��charlie hunnam*** * ben barnes** * jon bernthal* * joseph quinn * joe keery * oscar isaac* *harris dickinson * theo james *christopher briney * tom ellis * henry cavill * diego luna * michiel huisman * matthew broome * aidan turner * ricky whittle * jamie dornan * richard madden * carlos miranda * garrett hedlund * clayton cardenas * jonathan bailey * jeffrey dean morgan * dj cotrona * alex fitzalan * harry styles * jacob elordi * boyd holbrook

some ships i’d love to do! * any of the above fcs combined tbh. ( m/f or f/f ) * click here for full list since tumblr has a text limit. (under co.)

plots id love to do! *these book based ones.* * this unhappily married dad/babysitter plot. * this angsty/fluffy my best friend is having my baby plot. * * this zombie apocalypse/last of us inspired plot* but also any za plot bc i have a ton of za based muses i'd love to play.* * celeb plots! especially this one. something like two super famous actors hiding their relationship or famous person/non famous plots? or what about muse a being a new neighbor to muse b, who's a famous actor but she has no idea who he is* * single dad/nanny plots! give me something cute and angsty. * escort/client plot where she breaks the most important rule… don’t fall for your client. *single dad/kindergarden teacher plot. i love this tropeeee. * grumpy ceo/soft assistant plots or even a ceo/assistant plot where he's an older millionaire who always end up in failed relationships but then realizes who he's been looking for this whole time is her & her being hearts eyes for him but never thinking he would go for her / there's a no dating policy at the company.*** * royal plots! bridgerton esqued plots! * * f/f socialites plot… blair/selena/upper east side inspired muses but make it gay* *brother's best friend plot. * crimey plots? sons of anarchy inspired? or maybe m.afia/m.ob/gang stuff?*** * bodyguard/client plots bc i’m a sucker for them* * soulmates plot. i have a whole lore i’ve been wanting to write out for ages so ** * sugar b.aby / sugar d.addy plots * * best friends to lovers plots ( gimme angst) * friends with benefits plots where they're suppose to not catch feelings but ofc they do. gimme jealousy!!!!!! drama!!! *best friend's dad or dad's best friend plots 👀 (everyone over 25+)* *second chance at love plots. *based on the movie something borrowed plot. *a plot where muse a is a bar owner who pays off guys that muse b meets up for blind dates at his bar because he really likes her and she finds out. * *age gap plots in general, i'm a sucker for them (everyone over 25+)** *CLICK HERE FOR MORE BC TUMBLR HAS A TEXT LIMIT.

#indie rp #indie oc rp #indie smut rp #open indie rp #indie bi rp #indie crime rp #indie zombie rp #open rp #indie celeb rp #1x1 rp #1x1 plot #plotting call.#indie royal rp #wl.

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abyss-seer · 26 days ago

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Where can you look for them?

PICK A CARD READING

Where all the boys at with emotional stability? Nice car, a CEO, and almost just as smart as me Where all the boys at with financial security? A doctor, a model, a man of possibilities They say, "Expectations are too high And you′ll never find a guy like that" It's driving you mad, honey They say, "That it′s just a waste of time Get your head out of the sky", but why? (Here we go) Oh, I, wish I could synthesize A picture perfect guy, oh, I, oh, I.....

Listen up, there's already saturation of lots of love reads on Tumblr, if this ain't for you, not for you, go away, walk away, find some other read, its not for you, let other people have their bit, pleeeeeeease.

Pile 1

Pile 2

Pile 3

This is going to be a mini read, about where the eff you will find your picture perfect guy/girl? They can be someone Karmic, Soulmate or Divine counterpart. Karmic doesn't mean I allow abusive energies, just fun people here to teach you your lessons. Now this can be your idealized person, doesn't mean the one you are supposed to have a happy ending with. But you know we have all wondered about him/her and their whereabouts. So Let's see what comes up

Pile 1

Girl I'll be honest I cleaned the space properly today, but the first hint that came for you is F.T. ISLAND, and when it came through I forgot where the eff F.T Island was but channeled Epstien's Island though I immediately dismissed it but after searching who F.T ISLAND was I was shocked to discover an involvement of it members in Burning Sun Scandal. I know this sounds crazy but he might be a memer or a troll of Pdfiles and grapists maybe because of his frustration that government does nothing. I clarified this message and got a message of a kind hearted or meek or very shy reserved yet confused and foolish soul that gets eaten by predators easily. They might have been a target or victim of many improper attacks against them by the people who have known them through and through and might have created rumours around them to succeed against them ,they had to leave their inner child or innocence behind unwillingly for it was forcefully taken away from them. They might have been a victim of such attacks, had abusive people like these in the workplace who might have made rumours about them. "If you gave me a chance I'll take it, its a shot in the dark but I'll make it". Oh my gosh this person understands the suffering of being in a miserable state so they help others through their disparity so they are a sort of a Vigilante maybe or may have been or they could be in the [process] a secret process of disproving these claims made against them. Woah girl, I feel you are gonna be that Mary Jane and other typical normal human girlfriend of some part time colleague, part time Avenger typa person. Good luck!

I am getting England or Gloucostershire or the town of Cheltenham, Churchdown, Newport, Cardiff or South England near the Bristol Channel. Places like Belgium, Netherlands, Luxemborg. Also I am getting Bay areas like South Carolina USA, and maybe Atlanta and Georgia, (USA). I feel like he might live in a native english speaking country, you might meet him around some bay area, shoreline or coastal area, bordered by huge bodies of water. You may hail from there, may work at these places or have a good shares, property or lands in these areas. I am also getting Western Yorkshire, and Manchester around the Bolton area. I was also getting an EFFBOY. Maybe you guys will meet when one of you isn't committed, also I am hearing a heartbroken sad song, so maybe one of you will get heartbroken or their trust is broken by the other person. I am also getting Brown eyed Girl by Van Morrison. So maybe they or you could have Brown or hazy brown eyes. You could be confident about meeting them only to remember this past pain or mistake in London, Boston especially for some of you. I feel like many of you can hail from Ireland, might or might not have seen this person before but you damn sure know about them. Maybe this a reconciliation for many of you choosing this pile. FKB or the German airport, Karlsruhe / Baden-Baden Airport could be significant. Maybe you will meet them or reconcile with them on grounded Kobe beef eating session. Coastal areas of Kuwait coming through.

Woah Pile 1, Bodak Yellow by Cardi B coming through, main character energy, easy going persona coming through

Pile 2

"Pittsburg is a city in Contra Costa County, California, United States." New Orleans, New Jersey. I also feel like you aren't going to find them far away from your hometown or homeland. You don't seem the type to move that much. They or you could work in CHP

California Highway Patrol (CHP):

The state law enforcement agency responsible for traffic safety and other duties on California highway

So I am literally getting an officer, maybe a fake officer for some of you. Idk but Iam also getting UMK Korea, Universal Music Group Korea, but I also channeled North Korea, so maybe some of you or they might be immigrants who have now settled and found work in South Korean Music Industry, or a part of movie industry. Doesn't mean one of those baseline jobs, seems something where they/you could be laying off people. They could be the one who built the foundations of their company, they could be lying to you about their job or the placeholding they might have in their company for a very very long time and might come off as a total stranger or fake police officer at the start maybe. Invasion of privacy? a threat? A very clean and hygienic energy, They do not like boundaries, are reckless, prone to accidents maybe, but are calm and collected about it, so yeah hard to connect with as they can be a Stray, like literally an orphan or someone who works with Stray Kids from JYP entertainment (just guessing cause UMK came through). So it can be hard to connect with them. Ok this is a very straightforward hyper independent person who doesn't likes being helped by others, their confidence or light literally dims when someone tries to help them, as they seem to associate it with their incapability. Their masculine energy is stronggggg!!!! Their socio-economic and cultural background might different than yours, maybe a little unpopular. I'm also hearing their previous person or relationship might have given them a draft or some public notice shaming them for their culture. "Culture vulture" might be term they were shamed with as a kid maybe. So someone who aren't that sure of their own abilities to hone in and master the skills of their ancestors and pass down this to the younger generations. Their biggest insecurity is their culture and their ancestory if so I may say that they aren't locked in to their culture and it hurts them to be like this. As a kid they used to be fat-shamed as Bao Bao, Dumplings, Samosa, Petu Raaj (Chubby King), Phatty. I think as a grown up it hurts them a lot. I think they might meet you while they are getting over their ex and might tempt you for becoming their rebound.

They might have a child from their prev marriage. While they might be onto that rebound, don't worry they will tell you the truth, it maybe a reunion to some of you, you might know them from before somewhere and might remember them. They might not know that though. And I think once communication starts its a rollercoaster ride for both of you.

Goodbye, this ain't Nasty 18+ read, you 2 dirty minds, at first this feels like a situationship which turns into something more, you will know when its official, like literally, you will sense a ring way before the proposal day comes. You might go on fishing trips with their child with chum buckets and what nots. Aquarius, 11th house and Uranus energy coming through. Best believe they might be an Alienic or ( have Alien-icks in bed )to your culture, religion, belief systems and what nots. "I just feel like going abroad and kissing someone's p*ssy" Ok pile 2 your person's dirty AF. Bye, to both of you

Pile 3

Unholy by Sam Smith coming through, Right off the bat lemme tell you, Body Shop or a club or a bar. Pick your poison. This pile gives off ick towards polyamorous relationship but maybe they are in a phase of dating one

France, Paris, Italy, Latin American coming through. London, Córdoba,Spain coming through as well.

This place in Spain especially coming through like clouds and the rain, I'll follow you everywhere

Dirt Bikers coming through, they could be the mountain biking type. The anime Idaten Jump comes through, just like sam's unholy opening you could meet them in a mechanics shop or something. They could be a mountaineer. Nick DiGiovanni and Italian Tiktok chef Fabrizio Pigliucci, the " bon appetito betch" guy comes to mind. He could a very sporty individual, cooking his own meals, very reserved and conservative in his mindset, someone's whose mind is rooted to their culture but also someone loud, sporty or atheletic. They can have Quinceanera in their tradition as well, they were the type to look for trad wife. I guess you have already met your picture perfect guy and are someone with a good set of future standards for men, after meeting them. This man roves on a KTM RC, trust me, this is a biker.

Another Channeled place : Fuente Obejuna,

This guy/girl of yours is somewhere around the Andalausian plains, Girl go and find him. Who is he? Even I am curious, dude's been moving me to all the places in Córdoba, Bro lives somewhere around here maybe, or somewhere around the southern Andalausian region, The place he could hail from could be south west of Corodba. For some (since this pile seems a bit like general read for me, beaches of California, or a place whose name could start with And______

but Spain coming through significantly).

He could be someone with Famas gun or Loves Famas guns in Online battle grounds, I'm also getting the word "sinking". You both might meet while online player based games, and some of you may find him sinking through a well, or something about "Famas Original" coming through. Idk who this dude is, but there are many people behind your person.

I had to literally hold a Tiger's eye stone to weed out excess energy. Also these people who could be chasing them aren't their type. I'm literally getting "I just wanna be yours" by Arctic Monkey's Wanna be yours. Babe you will know this person the moment he lays his eye on you, cause this dude's type to rush behind the highest or the trendiest stuff of the day. And you could be that! They might have a store filled with glamorous stuff, very high end as well. They like to maintain their collections and have very high and classy aura about them. They are someone who's very show off, and babe they love to show you off as well. This dude literally reminds me of Roland, Japan's richest Host and dang you are their person. This person loves you and keeps you like a little keepsake, according to them and their love language, you are an arduous reminder of something they struggled with in their life and have now succeeded and overcome it due to all the failures they face. You could have been there for them or will or might enter into this person's life in this little phase. Their love language can be a bit show offy but they will love you for who you are as well. They just love admiring and adoring you. The love they provide might not be so intense but its joyous and playful according to me and some of you might literally enjoy that.

I am kinda getting that they could be someone like Jennie Kim from Blackpink. Kinda Roar, Kinda Kinky, Kinda Slayy, Kinda Sassy all at the same time. 12:12 on the clock, they can appear a bit fishy, or suspicious but are a cutie patootie inside. This pile literally gives off Goth, Gangsta person yet a cutie pie when it comes to love.

Be careful of Public smex, PDA's and what not cutesie stuff. You might by mistakely walk in on them in Bathroom for some of you.

8th house air placements, 8th house mercury, they are good with their dirty talk, you might fluster over their words. I'm channeling "web of words". Dude this person's confusing though. They can have soul karmic ties with you. You might have to teach him a lesson gurl, cause this looks like a situation-ship or a hookup to me. His words are so much like Ranveer Allahbadia, like he might say that he is interested in something but is actually someone who makes fun of those very hobbies and creative expressions that they say they like. If this is 8th house mercury synastry let me telll you, people with these synastry placement, the mercury person might gossip about the house person's private life and that ain't right, usually 8th houser suffer a lot with their privacy being invaded by this synastry so be careful who you share your life with, let the cat get your tongue if possible, your instincts might be trying to protect you.

Though for some of you, this is a soulmate or a love mate, perfect partner right here, they'll be close to your family or other partner if this is Polyamorous relationship, maybe brown for some of you here, will have greater intellect and will help you through your family finances and property dealings, a lawyer for some of you. They are cutthroat and deep (might literally be so in a oral smex sense). Maybe you had met them in the past and grew something together only for them or you to get dissatisfied and bored out of it and leave this relationship or business dealing or many of you decided to open the relationship and let new options in and basically after a long while of thinking and wondering maybe you guys had let go of each other. But I think there's some future fated meeting awaiting you all. The next choice is yours babe

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