#also it doesn't fix the issue that was there in the first place so it's useless

[ohmigoshiloveu]

Okay so like. I still haven't managed to get myself to finish episode 9, so I don't fully know how Theo's glow up finishes, but regardless I fucking love relistening to Emizel's section of episode 1 and like. Fuck man Theo does a lot of growing. Like he's a little bit pathetic at the beginning of the series. He's so, so brave during the alleyway fight, but he sounds shaky and scared and like a sopping wet pathetic baby the entire time. Charlie specifically describes him as not very alert, not a great fighter, and gives him this little moment where it takes him a second to manage to crush a soda can. He botches the check to beat Emizel in Smash Bros so there's a chance he sucks at the related skills (dexterity and computers I think?), but also after he loses Charlie specifically has him sound super frustrated and conclude that he should've 'stayed in his lane'. When Emizel says 'We'll do what we do best,' and Theo immediately responds with 'drink soda?' so fast that the other players notice it. Charlie might've had that as a predetermined character thing. Theo drinks soda. There's not much else to him.

Which creates this interesting dynamic between him and Emizel, because Emizel is so much better at him at all of these skills that the people around them (a FUCKING GANG) value. Emizel's perceptive, and agile, and strong, and a great fucking fighter irl and in videogames AND he always sounds badass. He's the top dog, the apex predator in their social circle. And I think that colors their relationship a lot? Like Theo has to look up to Emizel. I bet that Theo's looked up to Emizel since they first met, maybe Emizel came crashing into his life doing something epic and Theo thought it was the greatest shit ever.

On the flip side, I was getting a few hints of resentment? Hear me out! It's that 'should have just stayed in my lane' line. He's painfully aware how great Emizel is, compared to how much he's (from his perspective!) just a one trick pony. He's here to drink soda and say funny things, that's all most people want from him and he fucks up whenever he tries to do anything else!

And later in the segment Theo snarkily brings up a medicine check that Emizel had just fucked up in like this super backhanded, super passive aggressive way. That could be him wanting to rub Emizel's one singular fuck up in his face (especially because Theo was having a Moment about how he feels like people only see him as the soda guy, so any feelings of inadequacy would've been dialed up to eleven, so if there was any time for him to resent Emizel it'd be then), but it could also be that he was frustrated with Emizel being an ass (Emizel had just guessed that Theo's dream was to be a nurse, which was flat out wrong, and that's literally what set up the backhanded comment. Theo was saying something like 'thank fuck you don't wanna be a nurse cuz you sure fucked up with nursing that guy earlier.' It could also be that Emizel literally almost forgot Theo's name. Theo literally gave him the 'th' sound, it might've just been a bit Charlie was doing or it could've been Theo being AWARE that Emizel almost forgot his name. Or! It could be that in this moment, where Theo was confiding in Emizel about feeling like being the soda guy was all anyone ever saw in him, Emizel said something to the affect of 'well yeah Soda's the fun one.' Emizel doesn't think before he speaks and literally has a 1 in empathy. Just because he loves Theo doesn't mean he's not gonna blunder into being a complete and utter asshole to him. I'd hazard to say Emizel accidentally being an ass to people he cares about is a running theme).

But also all of that might come down to Charlie still getting the character down. Or, because I've theorized before that Theo might not've been supposed to survive the first Gabriel fight, the little hints of bitterness might've been intentional (even if they were completely improvved and Charlie didn't mean to add that to Theo's character) because Charlie was trying to shove as much character into this character before he was gone, but once it became clear that Theo was going to stick around longer he dropped it. As far as I remember, that bitterness is completely gone in all later interactions we see with Theo. OR! It could be that the bitterness drops because they've both got bigger fish to fry from that point onward, what with Theo's Shilo Incident TM, Emizel's vampirism, the Weylin twins. He doesn't have time to be bitter, he's too busy worrying about losing a cornerstone of his identity or helping his best friend adjust to being a fucking vampire now. And then after he learns to live without soda that basically negates his feelings of inadequacy- like, getting over the idea that he's nothing if he's not the soda guy would be required for him to give up on being the soda guy. And then Emizel would drift back into JUST being a guy to aspire to instead of also being a reminder of Theo's short comings, and then drift even further down into being 'guy who is actually going through it and has to overcome his own demons just like I had to overcome mine'. Like, I think we got to watch Theo slowly start to take Emizel off this pedestal in real time (he still definitely thinks Emizel's hot shit tho. Emizel's his boy, after all.)

Regardless, even if Theo did resent Emizel a little in the beginning, it's so fucking clearly overshadowed by how much he fucking loved him. And like, how could he not? Imagine you're Theo, critically low self esteem, and the literal coolest guy you know fucking LOVES you. Like, Emizel keeps consistently going out of his way to pull Theo up to his level and to treat him as an equal (mostly. Sometimes protectiveness bleeds through, like in his hypothetical fang scenario in ep 1 where he predicts there being five Fangs to fight and he says he can take three and Theo can take two (which in itself is still incredibly kind to Theo. Like, boy, you thought Theo was gonna be able to take out two whole guys? Hell no.) But that could also be chalked up to Emizel just being a cocky ass who wants to show off). Like dude, c'mon. Emizel might be a reminder of everything that Theo's not, but he's also probably Theo's biggest cheerleader. He wholeheartedly thought he was being supportive when he said he thought Theo'd make a great nurse! In all seriousness, though, even if it ultimately discourages him, Theo playing that Smash game against Emizel was at least a little bit of proof of him decidedly not 'staying in his lane,' and Emizel seems to inspire that! Later in that segment he challenges Theo to see which of them can break one of the Fangs kneecaps first! I bet Emizel challenged him to stupid competitions a lot, and that got Theo fired up and competitive in return!

And even when Emizel's not building Theo up, he's still giving Theo special attention, or readily receiving any attention Theo gives him. If nothing else, even at his lowest points that might've made Theo feel cool by association.

On Emizel's part, I think he's like, possibly completely oblivious to any turmoil Theo's going through? Like he thinks Theo's the shit and genuinely sees him as an equal. I'm 99% sure that Theo being his right hand man happened because Theo would've put himself into the role (in episode one before he gets all of his character development he's pretty much always looking to Emizel for what to do, and still more or less does whatever he says up to where I'm at in the series, with refusing to leave the alleyway being the only exception I remember). I think if Theo'd had higher self esteem or been less eager to defer to Emizel, Emizel would've happily gone about his business slotting Theo into more of a partner role. He tells Theo to run from that alleyway because Theo'd taken a fucking devastating hit and Emizel was sure he could handle himself, not because he knows Theo sucks at fighting. He tries to turn Theo into a cool vampire. He convinces Shilo that Theo'll be a valuable asset to raiding the Weylin warehouse and they take Theo with them instead of having him stay behind with the car like Grefgore, despite Theo being the one who actually knows how to drive. He tells Theo about being a vampire even though he keeps it a secret from everyone else, confides in Theo that 'yeah he might absolutely be susceptible to going into a frenzy like Shilo did.'

When you get down to it, Emizel pretty much tells Theo everything he would think is relevant, with two notable exceptions. Maybe three if you count him not telling Theo he has nine lives like a cat but tbh I think he might've just forgot. Or maybe he gets to it later, or maybe he did tell him and I forgot! idk man! But! Those other two things. First off, he like. Pointedly does not tell Theo that he's a prince. Like when they were doing the recap on the way to the Weylin warehouse, there's like. Charlie gives Condi an opening to say it, a little 'is there anything else?' and Emizel just. Doesn't. And the second one is that (at least where I'm at) Emizel never comes clean about bloodbonding Theo. Maybe it just hasn't come up yet, but still. It fits a pattern of Emizel not wanting to admit something that makes him, like, ABOVE Theo somehow. He sees Theo as an equal, and a precious one at that, he doesn't want things to get weird between them because he's literal royalty, and he doesn't want Theo's life to literally revolve around him like it would under a level three blood bond- and doesn't want to admit that he even considered it, even if he did it without really understanding what it was.

And Emizel backing off from ghoulifying Theo after Arthur explains what it actually entails kinda leads into a far more headcanon-y relationship analysis thing so um. Feel free to skip the next paragraph.

So! Like. Why the fuck was Emizel so attached to Theo being Soda. Like he gets over it decently quick, cuz that's his buddy and it's what Theo wants, so like. Whatever. But like, if I'm right about Theo always looking up to Emizel from the moment they met, there might've been some wiggle room between when they first became friends and when Theo became Soda. And like, before Theo became Soda, being Emizel's buddy would probably be the only thing he'd feel he had going for him? Which would've made it even harder for Emizel to get them both on equal footing, and I think that's just... really unappealing to him. Like! Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Emizel loves having people kiss up to him and respect him and blah blah blah, I just think Theo being his boy and Emizel treating him like a partner go hand in hand. Either they weren't best friends yet or Emizel was just. Kind of uncomfortable and eager to push Theo into growing into something more than a hypeman. And then the soda incident occurs, and it gives Theo SOMETHING to define himself by, something people like him and know him for that's got nothing to do with Emizel, and maybe the initial soda incident was bad, but having that sense of identity and falling into what kind've feels like a class clown kinda role might've helped get Theo over his self esteem issues long enough for Emizel to go 'oh you're actually super cool. sweet.' and then blah blah blah they get super close like they are in canon. And then whenever Theo seems like he's backsliding into what he was before the soda incident, Emizel tries to course correct not because he doesn't think Theo's any fun without soda, but because he's made the mental connection that Soda without soda turns into less of a best friend and more of a follower, which as stated before he probably really doesn't want from Theo specifically. but idk. pure conjecture here.

Anyways, above all else, Theo's important to Emizel. I really, really like the idea that Theo was supposed to be like a brother to him (which. Again pointing at my 'Theo was supposed to die in episode 1' theory, can you IMAGINE the angst Emizel could've had about that? Lose one brother and then someone else claiming to be your brother shows up? It would've felt like some hellish, not-worth-it trade. Like a betrayal, like accepting Shilo might mean replacing Theo, and how could he ever?)

And Emizel's important to Theo! But unlike Emizel (who I'm 99% sure is gonna have some kinda moment with Theo but I genuinely cannot see him loving Theo in any other way than the way he does now), Theo has the bonus of having his view of Emizel have a clear trajectory to evolve over the course of the campaign. Like I said, he seems to be getting more confidence in himself and like, not gonna get into the stuff I've had spoiled beyond episode 9 but it seems like Theo's gonna get a lot more comfortable being a proper leader and not just a number two. He's gonna have an easier time seeing Emizel as an equal, and I think that's fucking awesome!

I could be completely off base, but if I never watch another episode then I'll never be proven wrong. So. Ya know.

[racke7]

My internet has been investigated by a professional.

There might be something weird with the big cables (to quote the guy: the "inner-pair" and "outer-pair" of the eight-cables are of different lengths, but by all accounts still work just fine), but my own equipment has at least passed (no extra-fine for crying wolf for me).

The weird stability-thing continues to be weird. And current test is for them to switch my internet-provider (internet-provider has a use-contract with the cable-operators, who are the ones investigating) over the weekend. See if the problem is on that end.

It's possible that this is the case (at which point I guess I'll try to switch permanently), or that it's that weird cable-length resulting in the problem (which is... a whole different can of worms).

[just-a-little-unionoid]

prev I hope you don't mind me if I use your tags

great exemple of morality as an understanding between instinct and reflexion, and between what you wish and what you want

as far as I'm concerned the craving for violence is normal, we're animals and we feel anger. anger is the emotion of injustice and want. when we feel it it means that we feel like something is unfair, wrong, that we need for it to change, and anger usually makes us violent because that's like, the easiest way to "fix" a problem quickly. except that as humans with an ability for abstract thinking, we can and need to understand that an "easy fix" is rarely the better option on the long term. and so we need, when we feel anger (especially towards someone) to recognise what exactly is the problem and how to really fix it, ideally without creating useless suffering and other issues

so I guess prev congrats for using you human ability to think (unironically, like that's something a lot of people seems reluctant to do which was op's point) and thanks for providing me an opportunity to expose my thoughts on a subject I'm passionate about

Tumblr really is full to bursting of the fascinating category of people who will shout ACAB at the top of their lungs and despise the American prison system with dramatic displays of vitriol but when confronted with someone who did something they actually think is a serious moral transgression cannot conceive of 'justice' meaning anything except the offender suffering, preferably in dramatic and humiliating ways.

You see how the median opinion on prison rape remains shrugging and considering it part of the sentence, really.

[brain-of-soup]

empathy is weird for me because i cannot for the life of me figure out how much of it i have. on one hand i get very, very upset when i hear about stories with animal abuse, and sometimes thinking about lost dogs makes me cry. i feel like i am very good at understanding how my dogs feel and comforting them when they're scared, and to a degree it's the same with the people i love. i'm especially good at calming people down during panic attacks, mainly because i have a breadth of personal experience with that.

but on the other hand thinking about other people's perspectives usually doesn't come naturally to me. i forget that other people have minds of their own and lives outside of their relationship with me. which means that often i can come across as very self-centered, because i will demand a lot from people in my life. because i literally just forget that their lives do not revolve around me. for the same reason i often will take things, including other people's emotions, as a personal attack. it's not always, but relatively often i get annoyed at people (mostly my family, sometimes my friends) for being sad or upset or frightened. sometimes when my sister is sad, or my sibling is stressed, or my mom is worried, i just want to scream at them to shut up. i don't do that, because i know it's mean and they're allowed to experience emotions, but still it's how i feel.

it's just a bit confusing to me. writing it all out like this definitely makes me think i am closer to the low-empathy side of the spectrum, but it feels weird to say that especially because of how empathetic i was as a child.

[hauntingblue]

Kyoshi island time!!!!!

[sunflowerdigs]

"But he shows up for Buck every time Buck asks,"

Yes. And then he leaves. That's the problem. The show deliberately contrasted the way that Eddie and Tommy deal with conflict with Buck this season. Eddie consistently asks Buck to explain his feelings, even begs him to, so that they can have a discussion and get to the bottom of the issue. He did it in the firehouse when Buck was acting passive aggressive and he did it at his house when Buck came to reveal that he would sublet from him in 8x09. Eddie digs into conflict with Buck because he values that relationship enough to put in the work to fix it when things get tough. He doesn't bail. Even when he's thousands of miles away, he maintains seamless communication. Even when Eddie decided to move to Texas for Chris, he kept Buck informed, which he really wasn't under any obligation to do (and which went against his inclination towards secrecy).

Meanwhile, Tommy makes major decisions about their relationship without consulting Buck and then bolts when Buck asks him to explain. He did it on their first date, and he did it again when he dumped Buck in 8x06. And he did it yet again in 8x11 when Buck was (rightfully!) upset about Tommy's dismissive behavior regarding his best friend leaving. In all of those situations, Tommy could have stayed and talked through the issue with Buck and they likely could have come out the other end of the conflict in a good place. But instead, Tommy left. And, in leaving he reaffirmed for Buck that Buck is not worth staying for.

Like, it's true that Buck said some hurtful things to Tommy in 8x11. But characters who actually know Buck understand that he lashes out when hurt and confused to take some control over the situation and push people away before they can leave him. It's his first instinct, but it's typically not the behavior that wins out if the person he is talking to stands their ground and, most importantly, doesn't leave. That's why Eddie didn't let Buck's hurtful comments to Blaze push him away, but instead kept talking to him until Buck talked back. It's also why Eddie forgave Buck for knocking him over on the basketball court and sent Tommy over to let Buck know that Eddie wasn't leaving and wanted to understand how he was feeling.

Showing up for Buck isn't enough if you're just going to turn around and leave when shit gets rough. Because that's exactly what Buck expects people to do, and he will push you out that door to protect himself if you let him. But Eddie never let's him. And that's why they work.

[bnpd]

❛❛ NERD-JO .ᐟ >ᴗ< ❜❜ :

SYNOPSIS: you're a new transfer at a big prestigious private university. what happens when the first friend you make is a cute nerd? will you get your chance to start fresh? or will your newfound 'friendship' bring you unwanted drama in the future.

DRABBLE WRD COUNT: 2.6K pairings: rich nerd!deans nephew gojo x reader tags: cute nerd gojo, reader is kind of mysterious, gojo makes me chuckle here. NOT PROOFREAD (sorry) ill come back and remove some grammatical errors. this might be cheeks fr

NOTEᝰ.ᐟ : im late to the nerd gojo party </3 but please enjoy! please do not steal my little nerdjo pngs just because they have my 'bnpd' if you want the individual png pls just shoot me a text :) lmk if there are any issues, so i can fix them !!

a tall man sits in the far back of the lecture hall. figure hunched over the desk as he scribbles away intensely in his journal. 30 minutes earlier than the usual start of the lecture. 

the glasses that sit delicately on his nose bridge slide down every once in a while. his white ruffled hair stays still as he shuffles in his seat to adjust his posture. 

many are intimidated by his silent and blank stare. everyone but students in his science club feel that way. he’s quite the chatterbox contrary to popular belief. ask him about his favorite physics theories and he’s chatting your ear off.

he doesn’t go to parties, but invite him to a museum or a bookstore? he’s already in the car.

he’s quite polished. gojo can be one of those pretentious nerds, but he doesn’t mean to! he has lived a privileged life and acts like any other rich college student would. 

comes from a wealthy family and doesn't hide it, but he also doesn't run around telling everyone.

it might seem like he dresses like a regular guy but his clothes are still expensive. you'll occasionally find him wearing a sweater vest and button up tucked into his well-tailored pants altered to fit his long legs on formal days when he has a research symposium presentation or a meeting with the steam department about improving certain aspects he finds are not up to his standards.

most of the time, he’ll wear comfortable clothes. wears glasses, cliche, but he wears them more out of practical appeal and necessity. 

his eyes are sensitive due to a medical condition he has. so, the glasses he wears are tailored to prevent his eyes from straining. his parents urge him to wear the endless supply of contacts he has but he’s quite comfortable with his glasses. 

every pair of glasses he owns has his initials engraved on the temples, whether it’s gold or silver. whatever matches the aesthetic of the pair of glasses.

when he was younger. his parents would fund his personal ‘academic’ projects. he’d be busy every summer at a science or math camp. if they sent him to a summer camp that wasn't academically related; at camp you’d find him reading far away from everyone else. whether in front of a lake or a quiet little place in the woods. 

now? he’s still the same. just bigger. doesn’t go to summer camp but definitely stacks up his summer with internships or side projects. on top of that, he’ll spend time volunteering at local schools, teaching students in high school or middle school.

very good with kids, and more patient with them than he would be with his uni study partners. 

donates whatever money he earns at internships to local communities to aid students in pursuing their education. he strongly believes that if he can pursue education freely, so should everyone else.

his timer goes off quietly and he stops scribbling down his memorized equations. he huffs out a breath of relief yet frustration. 

 i’m still missing one… he thinks to himself. if anyone with an outside perspective were to see him they’d imagine gears turning inside of his head.

he flips the page, resets his timer, and starts again.

time passes and he realizes class has now begun. he was so caught up studying, he failed to realize that the class is now packed with other students. a few scattered seats remain vacant. 

the professor enters the class and silently unpacks her bag before greeting the class and breaking the silence, “let’s have a great semester.” she wastes no time diving into the lecture. 

gojo, contrary to popular belief, sits in the middle section of the lecture hall. he’s not fond of the back because for starters, he’s easily distracted and he can’t hear from all the way back there. the middle is just right.

he’s kind of a loner, by choice. he's just always being productive on campus.

you’ll often see him sitting alone, busying himself with his studies unless he has a meeting with his club about an upcoming math or science competition. if it’s not the season of academic olympiads, he’s alone. 

he only has two close friends: geto and shoko. geto majors in psychology. shoko is, of course, pursuing her dream of being a doctor. she’s a biology major undergoing the pre-med track. 

gojo has yet to have a girlfriend in college.

not because he can’t find someone interested in him, absolutely not. he’s handsome, intelligent, quiet, kind, and rich. he's the most sought after bachelor on campus. with his brains and looks, he's every girls wet dream.

unfortunately for him, women are always hitting on him but quite frankly, he’s not interested. or sometimes he doesn’t catch on to the fact that a woman is subtly flirting with him. 

not because he’s dense, but how would he find something he’s not even looking for?

like right now, when you gently plop down on the seat next to him. you’re quite fond of sitting in the front but the lecture hall was overwhelmingly full. there were other open seats but he looked to be the most productive and you needed that.

you were a transfer. which is odd to be one this late into college, given that you’re a senior trying to complete your last year. 

the university is a pretty big private school so no one notices new transfers nor do they care. but within them, are those who do. 

like gojo. 

he doesn’t realize you’ve sat next to him until the end of the lecture. given that he was too busy scribbling away in his journal. 

one thing about gojo is that he likes to leave when everyone is already gone and the professor is free to approach. he’s a tiny bit surprised to see it seems you think the same. but for reasons he’s not aware of, you’re there for a reason other than academics. 

he silently observes you as you approach the professor. his eyebrows raise a bit when you share a hug and it has him adjusting his glasses to make sure he’s seeing things correctly. 

interesting

you continue to sit next to him in the following weeks, seeing him twice a week on tuesdays and thursdays. you began to find yourself looking forward to it. you get to sit next to a tall dorky handsome stranger? you’ll be getting perfect attendance. 

you rarely catch a glance of him outside of class, but every time you do he is so focused. 

the more you studied him while he studied something else, the more you realized how attractive he was. even if you knew that prior to your silent observations.

from the outfits you could tell he spent some time on in the morning—you assumed he woke up earlier than everyone else, to the way his obsession with organization—you took note of when he set his things down for class and neatly organized his pens, pencils and journal for notes.  

don’t be mistaken though. one tiny peek at his journal was enough to see that despite his need to tidy things on the outside…his notes were written haphazardly and quick. notes are a reflection of your mind, and if you’re constantly thinking then your notes will be a reflection of that.

you had also come to the conclusion that he was a man that was yet to become aware of his height. he moved around like he didn’t know how much of a walking tank he was. you hoped he never found out.

the best thing about him wasn’t any of the things you listed, but it was a few of the habits he had. 

everything he owned was personalized. from the pencils he used, to his backpack. you made that discovery when you forgot your pencil pouch in the library.

it took you a total of 2 minutes to gather the courage to turn to the mysterious man beside you, and ask him for a pencil. 

“excuse me,” you said gently, “im sorry, but can i bother you for a pencil? im so sorry.” 

he stared at you and you thought he would explode you with his bright blue snow glazed eyes. 

he cracked a tiny toothless smile and you figuratively crossed your fingers, hoping he wasn’t silently judging you or worse—came to the conclusion that were unprepared and incompetent. 

you watched him intently as he reached to grab his backpack, taking in the way the black expensive leather had his initials engraved in the bottom corner. he reached his hand into his backpack and pulled out–what looked to be the most elegant, technologically advanced sleek black mechanical pencil.

“don’t worry about giving it back,” he says politely but then he goes for the blow “i know you might need it in the future.” with a hint of pretentiousness. oh!

“well… thank you,” you say a bit taken back as you reluctantly take the pencil from his extended hand. your face falls a little at his response and you deflate a little in your chair.

did he think you were…poor? god forbid a girl asks for a pencil. you’d, unfortunately, been perceived. and in the worst way possible. he probably thinks you’re irresponsible, and an idiot!

you look at the pencil and realize that–of course–he has his initials engraved in his mechanical pencils too. 

g.s.

you bite back a smile that might give away how endearing you found it. that is so cute.

he has his initials on almost everything. you try not to crack a smile at how adorable yet endearing that is. 

unfortunately, you couldn’t really put the pencil to good use because he kept fidgeting in his seat the entire class. it distracted and worried you at the same time. which was odd because he never did that. 

is he upset that he had to give you one of his spare pencils? will he ask for it back? 

as you were packing your bags to leave, you felt him heavily staring at you. it makes you pause your movement and then turn to him, and sure enough, he was looking at you. you a tiny sigh leaves your lips. 

“yes? is this about your pencil? because i have my own i just needed–”

“im sorry.” he interrupts you and it shuts you up immediately. 

what?

he might have seen the confusion in your eyes. “about what i said about the pencil, i didn’t mean for it to come off that way. i was just saying because i have a lot of them so it wouldn’t have made a difference. and i was guessing maybe you didn’t. wait–no. i meant like if you didn’t–.not that i think you can’t get your own pencils or anything like that because i am super sure you can. but if you need it you can keep it. not that you need it right? because everyone needs a pencil. like one time i–”

you stare at him as he rambles on. you’re completely endeared with the way he doesn’t look you in the eyes and the way his hands move around to prove his point. 

he huffs out a breath of frustration. you on the other hand huff out a breath of amusement and the stranger before you finally moves to look at you.

“it’s okay.” you dismiss his worries, standing their idly as you mirror his movements. 

“i just thought i might have inconvenienced you by asking,” you tell him honestly, you grab your computer and gently store it away in your backpack as you continue your conversation, “im usually prepared, but i accidentally left my pencil bag in the library this morning.”

he gives you a tiny affirmative nod, taking in your words. he swings his backpack over his shoulder, and loops both arms into their respective loops, wearing the backpack on both shoulders. 

cute.

there's an awkward silence that follows you both before the door slams shut and you realize then that the professor has now walked out. 

the stranger huffs out a small awkward laugh, “you didn’t–by the way,” he speaks then, “inconvenience me, I mean”, he clarifies. now it’s your turn to nod at him. 

this is so awkward, it almost makes you laugh. 

he breaks the silence again, “im satoru gojo, by the way.” he politely introduces himself by extending his hand in a respectful manner.

you extend yours in return, shaking his hand before sharing your name with him as well. 

“i have time to kill,” he offers, “why don’t we take a walk around campus before then? the weather is great.”

after your shared walk with gojo you learned a lot about him. 

he recently discovered his interest in kpop after his friend, shoko, played a song during a shared car ride. 

he’s a senior, like you, studying engineering and double minoring in business and mathematics. he originally wanted to minor in physics but he said his father urged him to do business instead. he had to compromise.

that doesn’t stop him from taking physics courses out of pure enjoyment though, exceeding the 18 credit limit. 

he’s also an on-campus tutor and does a work study job at the library. the old librarian on campus loves him and appreciates his extensive knowledge on literature and figured that if he spent all his time there already, might as well let him get paid for him. 

when she approached him, his ears turned a light shade of pink and you could just imagine gojo pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose before they slipped as he hurried to apologize. 

she waved him off and urged him to just work there already. gojo then started working with them a week later after financial aid finalized the paperwork. he remembers the look of the financial aid lady when she looked at his file and saw that he was beyond in need of financial aid. 

all she did was raise and eyebrow but clicked away. thankfully, gojo managed to get the work-study payments signed off as a form of volunteering hours rather than an extra below minimum wage salary.

he didn’t share with you the last part about his tiny altercation with financial aid though. he assumed you had no idea who he was. and you hoped to keep it that way. 

you in turn shared with him that you were transferred from another school. he already knew that (he paid a visit to the dean but he’ll never tell you that, given that the dean is his uncle afterall) he didn't know why. so, he asked.

“i transferred because there were some personal issues there and now i just want to start fresh.”

gojo raises a questioning eyebrow, but decides to respect your privacy. he hopes one day you’ll trust him enough to tell him. 

the rest of the chat was quite delightful. you were about to invite him to the cute nearby cafe you saw on your way to school, but before you could muster up the courage. 

a chime was heard from gojos pants pocket. he excused himself to check his phone. you stood there idly as he let out a tiny groan of frustration. 

“im sorry–” he apologized again. the look of pure regret made your lip quirk up again. he was so cute and polite.

“i hate to cut our…trip—short but it kind of slipped my mind that i scheduled a study group with a class i T.A. for.”

you wave him off, “it’s okay!” you reassure him with an upbeat tone in your voice, “we share a class so i’ll see you around.”

he bids you a quick goodbye and you watch his retreating figure. you sigh and head to the opposite direction. 

this semester will be exciting. 

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 . join my tag list : ⟢ join my girlypop disc: link ‹𝟹

TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @bloopsstuff : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @rjswrld : @fartm : @bammbi-jeon127 : @gojoslefttoenail : @laviefantasie : @red-viewe : @danakul : @xchannelorange : @honoredalone : @plutosgold : @jotarohat : @shadowytiger : @um-no-ok : @lavender-hvze : @nvmlolo : @rintcrous : @jaelahh-blog-blog : @fuckerenyaeger : @bigbodiezz : @simp-plague : @lialia3945 : @gojostit : @fangirlingoverfanfic : @deluluforcarlos55 : @manyno :

omg! i didn't realize how many people signed up for my taglist <33 tysm ! currently working on a masterlist too. long shot gojo. i have not forgotten you.

©2025 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate.

[moonwoodhollow]

Honigtwiete - An Eclectic Townhouse by moonwoodhollow (cc)

My first build download for 2025, and I hope you'll like it! As it's still cold and gloomy - at least where I live - I wanted to create a townhouse that feels warm and welcoming, even a little nostalgic, but mostly cosy. Let your new university students live here until they find their own place or renovate and make this your family home, or have someone live in the (probably) mouldy basement apartment... there are lots of possibilities!

More screenshots, info + download link under the cut!

Building Background

I don't want to bore you too much with any architectural details, but I first took a look around Britechester's debug builds and got inspired by architecture around the Netherlands and Nothern Germany. While the building on the left is quite similar to what you'd see in the old towns of Amsterdam or Bremen for example, the building on the right is not as common, as it's missing a traditional roof, which you'll find usually have with older buildings. For that house, I took a few liberties, so to say and modelled it more closely to houses in Greenwich Village, New York. Architecturally speaking, this doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it's all about the aesthetics in the end and it's the Sims... so you know, everything's possible!

By the way; Honig is the German word for Honey and a Twiete is an older Nothern German word for street. So the lot would be called Honey St. in English!

So what do you get?

Honigtwiete is a 20x15 lot best placed in Britechester (Honeydew Fields lot) or somewhere else if you feel like it. The lot is set as a residential lot and consists of 2 houses. The house on the left is completely unfurnished and has a basement apartment with separate access from the street. The house on the right is completely furnished. I had the idea to create a townhouse that is partly rented out to students while the owner still lives there, but you're welcome to create your own story or just go with it. Either way, I furnished the townhouse with that idea in mind: the ground floor consists of a living room with a dining area and a kitchen. The 2nd floor belongs to the owner and consists of another living room, a bedroom and an ensuite. The 3rd floor is rented out and has 2 bedrooms with separate bathrooms.

Uses items from the following packs: looks best with almost all packs. But a tip: take a look at the build in the gallery and click on the packs to see the items I used from that pack, it might also look good with fewer packs.

Download: Google Drive (490mb) | or up on the gallery: aeromantica

Is the CC included? Yes.

I want to thank these cc-creators especially since their pieces were integral in making this build come alive: @surely-sims, @baufive, @sforzcc, @awingedllama, @leaf-motif.

@kiwisim4, @bluehopperx, @ccbybudgie, @alexpilgrimblog. Thank you so much for your wonderful cc!

-> Btw. I’m still using DX9, so you might have to do a batch fix if you’re already using DX11.

TOU: Please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the building, I’d love to see it in your games.

If you like what I do and want to show your appreciation, I have a ko-fi!

[dollveis]

☆ ┆ KISSING IN THE BATHROOM. ellie williams — “ are you ready to cry? 'cause i'm no good. "

𔓘۫ ⊹ 𓈒 things get a little complicated and confusing after Ellie fucks you at that bathroom party, you can't stop thinking about her. MINI SERIES : FIRST PART. 8.8K WORDS.

featuring. tattoo artist!ellie x afab!reader content warning ! MDNI, smut, angst, fluff(?), reader is described using a dress and a skirt, ellie doesn't seem emotionally available, lack of communication, commitment and abandonment issues from ellie's end, she's actually pretty much an awkward loser with a cool appearance, average wlw situationship tbh, ellie pseudo flirts w a random girl, top!ellie, bottom!reader, reader is a bit of a brat, strap usage (r!receiving), tit play, degrading names (slut, it's used like twice tho), ellie refers to her strap like her dick/cock, petnames (baby, sweet girl, etc), breeding kink, mention of joel abandoning ellie and i think that's all??

❀ after two years i decided to write a second part for kissing in the bathroom 😭 i just randomly found inspo for it and idk, someone might still be interested and have fun reading it 'cause i sure did have fun writing it, either way i think this is a bit all over the place??? this is also kinda based in my experience with my gf before we started dating so this is pretty much based in real events i fear but enough yapping!

The bathroom air is thick with the scent of alcohol, weed and something more, something sweeter, maybe Ellie's cologne. The tile is cold against your back, a stark contrast to the heat still lingering between your bodies. Your breath still uneven, your mind spinning and even a little confused— not because of the drinks but because of her. Ellie Williams, the city's most sought tattoo artist, the same Ellie who barely spared you a glance when you approached her earlier, now she's standing in front of you, her hair messy and damp from the sweat, adjusting her belt with lazy fingers, her pupils blown wide. 

Her gaze looks up from her belt, looking at you, her expression unreadable, “you good?” she asks, her voice rough from booze, weed and whatever else she's taken tonight. 

You nod, though good isn't exactly the word to describe how you are feeling. Your heart is still hammering, you can still feel the imprint of her lips, her hands, the weight of her body pressing you against the bathroom's counter. 

Ellie runs a hand through her messy hair in an attempt to fix it and she exhales sharply, like she's grounding herself. Then, just like that, she turns toward the door. 

“That's it?” those words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. God, you want to hit your skull against the wall, stupid, stupid. 

The freckled girl freezes for half a second, then she laughs— not cruelly but not exactly nice either, more like she's amused that you'd even ask that, “yeah, that's it,” she glances back at you, raking over your figure, taking in your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips and your bruised neck, “unless you expected something else?” 

You swallow hard. You didn't expect anything else, not really if you were honest, but there's still a sting at how easily she's slipping back into her detached, too-cool persona. You just shake your head, “no. Just making sure.”

Ellie gives a lopsided smirk and reaches for the doorknob. Before she leaves, she pauses, “if you ever want a tattoo,” her voice low, “you know where to find me.” 

And then she's gone. You stay there for a moment, gripping the edge of the sink, trying to process what just happened because this isn't just some random girl at a party, this is Ellie Williams, you just can't believe it. 

The party is still going strong when you finally step out of the bathroom, music thrums through the floor, the bass of the song vibrating through your chest but everything feels a little off now. The lights are too bright, the voices too loud, the crowd too suffocating or maybe it's just the fact that Ellie was nowhere to be seen. Now you're not really sure of what you expected, maybe for her to stick around, maybe for her to acknowledge you but she's disappeared like smoke and now you're standing here, feeling raw in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol in your veins. 

You don't stay much longer after that. 

The morning after the party you wake up with a dull ache in your head and Ellie still lingering in your mind, the sharp lines of her jaw, the ink decorating her skin, the way her fingers pressed against you. It's ridiculous, really, you barely know her and yet she's stuck under your skin like ink sinking too deep to fade. 

You spend half the day trying to shake it off— running errands, scrolling through your phone, convincing yourself that last night was just that: a night. But then your fingers are typing ‘Ink & Desire’, her business’ name into the search bar before you can stop them. It doesn't take long to find, the website is sleek, with a black and white theme, filled with pictures of Ellie's work and her two coworkers but it's easy to recognize hers, sharp and intricate designs, those are undeniably hers. Below that, a small section labeled Booking Information:

Appointments only. No walk-ins. Currently booked out for a week. 

Of course, city's most popular artist wouldn't just be sitting around waiting for someone to wander in. Stil, before you can even try to talk yourself out of it, you're clicking the booking link, filling out the form with shaky hands. 

‘Name’, you hesitate before typing it in. ‘Preferred artist’, Ellie Williams. ‘Design idea’, you pause again, the truth is you don't even know what you want, just that you want her to be the one to do it. After a moment,  you type ‘Something small, fine line. Open to ideas’. 

You hover over the Submit button. This is insane, you think to yourself, she probably won't even remember you and even if she does, last night was just a hookup— it wasn't an invitation for anything more. Still, you press send. 

────────────────────────────────────

A week passes, and you try to not check your email every ten minutes. When a response finally comes in, your heart kicks up. 

‘Hey. I've got an opening Friday at 6. That work for you? — E’

Short. Direct. No indication of whether she remembers you or you're just another client but you don't let yourself overthink that. 

‘Yeah, that works. See you then’

And when Friday comes, you're standing outside Ink & Desire ten minutes early, heart hammering. You take a breath, push open the door and step inside. The shop is buzzing— tattoo machines humming, the scent of antiseptic and ink filling the air. A couple of other artists seem to be working on some clients, their stations cluttered with ink caps and paper towels stained with black and red. 

Then, there's Ellie, she's at the front desk, flipping through her sketchbook. When she looks up and sees you something flickers across her face, recognition maybe, but it's gone just as fast, replaced by something unreadable. 

“You're early,” she says, closing her sketchbook with her gaze still fixated on you. 

You shrug, trying to seem casual despite the fact your stomach is twisting itself into knots, “didn't want to be late.”

She leans against the counter, arms crossed, “alright. You said fine line and small piece, got anything in mind or you're trusting me?”

You meet her gaze, pulse racing, “trusting you,” her lips twitch ever so slightly, something like amusement or approval. Then she nods towards the chair in her station. 

Ellie's station is tucked near the back of the shop, dimly lit by a warm overhead lamp. Sketches and stencils are scattered across her workspace, some half finished, others crisp and ready to ink, something about the whole space was making you feel closer to her, like watching it was giving you a sight inside a part of her brain. You sit down in the chair, heart pounding just a little too fast. 

She grabs a stool, rolling up beside you, “where do you want it?”

You blink, realizing you haven't even thought about a placement. You swallow and then extend your wrist, “here… maybe?”

The girl takes your hand without hesitation, tilting it slightly in her grasp. Her fingers are calloused but her touch is surprisingly gentle when she runs her thumb over the inside of your wrist as if she's mapping out the space. 

“This works,” she mutters, more to herself than to you, then she pulls out her iPad and starts sketching.

You watch as she works, completely focused, the same way she was that night at the party except this time it's also different. This time her attention is completely on you, on your skin, on creating something meant last. After a few minutes, she turns the screen towards you, it's a delicate design— fine lines, a mix of floral and geometric elements, simple but pretty. 

Your throat goes dry, “that's perfect.”

Ellie nods like she already knew it would be, “alright, let's stencil it on.”

She moves through the process with ease, cleaning your skin, pressing the stencil down, smoothing it with her fingers. When she peels it away, you glance down at the faint purple outline on your wrist. 

“This is your last chance to back out,” she teases when she sees you looking, a slight smirk on her lips as she adjusts her machine. In response you just shake your head, her smirk lingers but she doesn't say anything else, just turns on the machine, the buzz filling the air. Then she starts. 

The first few seconds are sharp, tiny needles pricking into your skin, not unbearable but definitely there. You exhale, trying to relax. 

When she feels your action, she glances up, “not too bad, right?” she asks. 

You huff, a bit out of breath, “i've had worse.”

Ellie chuckles under her breath, “yeah, i bet.”

She keeps going, her touch steady, her focus unwavering. The shop hums around you— the other artists chatting with their clients, music playing low from a speaker in the corner, but all you can focus on is her, the way she leans in close, the way her brows furrow slightly in concentration, the way she occasionally glances up, making sure you're okay. The whole thing takes maybe twenty minutes but it Feels both longer and shorter at the same time. 

When she finally leans back, wiping down your skin with a paper towel, you glance down at the finished piece, it's stunning, crisp lines, delicate shading, every detail perfectly placed. 

“Damn…” you murmur, unable to hide your smile. 

Ellie arches an eyebrow, “yeah? you like it?”

“Like it? i love it.”

She grins a little, and for a second, it feels like that cold, untouchable version of her from the party isn't here right now. Just this version, the one with ink-stained fingers and a quiet kind of pride in her work. 

She tapes a bandage over the tattoo and sits back, “alright, you're all set, I'll give you aftercare instructions at the front desk.”

You nod, but you don't move right away and neither does she, there's something in the air, unspoken, heavy. 

Then Ellie clears her throat, breaking the moment, “come on.”

You follow her to the front, where she hands you a small aftercare sheet and rings you up, the price is steep but for Ellie Williams’ work it’s more thaspeakin

As you pull out your card, you hesitate for a second before speaking, “so, uh…” you glance at her, “are you always this professional or just when you're sober?”

Ellie stills for a second, then she exhales a quiet laugh, shaking her head, “you're really bringing that up right now?”

You shrug, looking away for a moment, “just curious.”

She hands you your receipt, her fingers brushing yours, “what happens at parties, stays at parties,” she says, voice low. 

And you don't know why that stings, but it does. Still, you manage to force out a smirk, “got it,” you say as you grab the receipt, turning to leave but when you reach the door, Ellie's voice stops you. 

“Hey,” you glance back, she's leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, “if you ever want another one,” she says, “i'll bump you up the waitlist.”

Your heart skips, you don't know what it means, if it means anything at all, but still you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips, “yeah,” you murmur, “i think i will.”

────────────────────────────────────

It takes about three days for you to cave and text her on instagram. Not about the tattoo, that's healing just fine, the lines perfect against your skin, it's her that's messing with your head, the way she looked at you when when she said she'd bump you up the waitlist, like maybe and just maybe, last Friday hadn't been just another appointment for her. But Ellie is not easy to read so you keep it simple and a bit casual. 

‘hey, the tattoo's healing great. just thought u should know your work is still perfect :)”

To be honest, you don't expect a response, the first time you texted her a month ago she completely ignored you but barely a minute later, your phone vibrates. 

‘yeah? you've been taking care of it?’

You huff a small laugh.

‘obviously, i don't wanna ruin ur art’

This time, Ellie doesn't answer right away and you're about to chalk it up as just a casual check-in when another message comes through. 

‘you free tonight?’

Your stomach flips, you weren't expecting that. 

‘depends, why?’

Another pause, then—

‘come by the shop when i close, 9pm’

She doesn't give any more details but you don't really need them, your body moves before your brain catches up, already heading to your closet thinking what the hell you're supposed to wear when Ellie Williams text you out of nowhere telling you to come over. 

At 8:58PM you're outside Ink & Desire again, heart hammering in your chest, your hands fixing your sundress or gripping your purse. The Closed sign is flipped in the window but the front door is still unlocked. When you step inside, the shop is quiet, dimmed lights, Ellie is at her station, wiping down her equipment. When she looks up and sees you something flickers in her green eyes. 

“You actually showed.”

You arch a brow, stepping further inside, “did you think i wouldn't?”

She smirks, setting down the cloth she was using to clean, “most people don't like late-night invitations with no explanation. 

You shrug, chuckling, “guess i'm not most people.”

Ellie watches you for a beat, like she's trying to figure out what to do with you, then she nods towards the back, “come on.

The girl leads you through a doorway, past a break room, until you reach a small patio. It's quiet out there, the city noise softened by the high walls. There's an old couch pushed up against the brick, a few stray potted plants and a neon ‘Ink & Desire’ sign hanging above the door, casting a dim blue glow over everything.

Ellie sits down on the couch, stretching her legs out, looking completely at ease. She pulls a joint from her pocket, lighting it before glancing up at you, “smoke?”

You hesitate for a moment before sitting next to her, “yeah, sure.”

She passes it to you, watching as you take a slow drag, the silence between you isn't awkward— it's charged, thick. 

“So,” you exhale, tilting your head at her, “you invite all your clients for late-night smoke sessions or just the ones you've fucked in a party bathroom?”

Ellie lets out a sharp laugh, shaking her head, “you don't let shit go, huh?”

You smirk, passing the joint back, “nope.”

She takes a slow drag, letting the smoke fill her lungs and then exhaling it towards the sky, “no, i don't do this with clients.”

Your pulse jumps at that. Ellie flicks ash onto the pavement, then glances at you, her voice lower now, “you been thinking about that night?”

Your eyes open slightly and you swallow hard before answering, “maybe.”

She hums, studying like she's been waiting for something. Then, slowly, she reaches out, her fingers brushing over your wrist, the one she tattooed, the touch is featherlight but it manages to send a shiver up your spine.

“Looks good on you,” she murmurs, tracing the edge of the design. 

You breath catches, this is dangerous territory, you can feel it but you don't stop her, instead you shift slightly, closing a bit of the distance between you, “Ellie…”

Her emerald eyes meet your gaze and for a quick moment, it feels like she might close the distance completely but then, she exhales, leaning back. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, dragging a hand through her hair, “this is probably a bad idea.”

Your stomach tightens at her words, “why?”

Ellie flicks her lighter open and shut, not meeting your eyes, “because i don't do… this. I don't do people.”

Your throat feels tight, almost as if a rope was around it but you force out a casual, “you did me.”

She snorts, shaking her head, “that's different.”

“How?”

She doesn't answer right away, just looks at you, something conflicted flickering in her green eyes and then— soft, almost too quiet— “because i haven't stopped thinking about it either.”

Your breath catches, the air between you is thick again, charged, electric, but this time Ellie doesn't pull away. This time she leans in and when she kisses you, slow and deep, you know you're in trouble. 

Ellie kisses you like she's trying to find something out, slow at first, then deeper, more certain, like she's decided she doesn't want to fight it anymore. Her hands curl around your jaw, finger rough and calloused, grounding you in the moment. 

Your head spins but not from the weed, it's her. The way she moves, the way she tastes like smoke and something undeniably Ellie. 

She pulls back just enough to search your face, her breath warm against your lips, “you sure about this?” 

You don't hesitate at all, “yeah.”

That's all she needs. Ellie tugs you onto her lap and you go willingly, hands threading into her hair as she kisses you again, harder and needier this time. Her fingers dig into your hips, pulling you closer like she can't get enough. Her hands start to roam, to grip, slipping beneath your dress, shamelessly touching your ass or inner thighs. 

You don't know how long you stay like that, tangled in each other, the cool air doing nothing to dull the heat between you both but eventually Ellie exhales against your skin, resting her forehead against yours. 

“This is a bad idea,” she mutters, but she doesn't sound like she really means it. 

You smirk, fingers tracing the edge of her jaw, “then why'd you invite me here, huh?”

She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head softly, “because i'm fucking stupid apparently.”

You grin, but there's something behind her words, something hesitant, like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop so instead of pushing, you soften, “Ellie… I'm not expecting anything from you.”

She studies you, eyes searching, “you're not?”

You shrug, “i just like being around you.”

Ellie exhales again, her shoulders loosening just a little, “yeah,” she murmurs, “i kinda like having you around too.”

It's quiet for a second, then she nudges you, “you wanna stay for a bit? hang out?”

You smile, “yeah, i do.”

So you do, you sit there with her, passing the joint back and forth, talking about nothing and everything. The city hums around you, but in this little back patio, it's just the two of you. 

You don't leave the shop until well past midnight, Ellie walks you to the door, hands shoved in her hoodie pocket, her expression enigmatic as she leans against the frame, “so,” she says glancing at you, “was this a one time thing or…?”

One of your brows arches, “you tell me.”

Ellie exhales a short laugh, “you're a pain in the ass, you know that?”

You just smirk, “and yet here we are.”

She looks at you for a second— really looks at you, then she huffs, running a hand through her auburn hair, “you wanna get food sometime?”

Your stomach flips but you keep your cool, crossing your arms over your chest and tilting your head with a cocky smile, “are you asking me on a date, Williams?”

Ellie scoffs as she rolls her eyes, “Jesus, you make everything difficult.”

You grin, “you're deflecting.”

She rolls her eyes once again but doesn't deny it, “you want food or not?”

You pretend to think for a second, just to mess with her, “i think my schedule is free… yeah, i want food.”

Ellie nods, satisfied, “good, i'll text you.”

────────────────────────────────────

And with that she steps back inside, letting the door swing shut behind her and you stand there for a quick moment, grinning to yourself before heading home. 

The next few days pass in a weird, anticipatory haze, Ellie doesn't text back immediately but you're not surprised, something tells you she's not the type to jump into things quickly. Still, when her name finally pops up on your phone, your heart stutters. 

‘theres a diner near the shop, come by tomorrow night’

Short. Straight to the point. Classic Ellie. 

You reply without hesitation. 

‘sounds like a date :)’

She doesn't text back, but when you show up the next night, she's already there, sitting in a booth by the window, picking at the label of her beer bottle. 

She glances up when you slide into the seat across from her, “hey.” 

“Hey,” you echo, shrugging off your jacket, “so, this is your usual spot?”

Ellie shrugs, “yeah. Open late. Decent food. They don't ask questions.”

You smirk, “that last part sounds suspicious.”

She rolls her eyes, “you ask too many questions.”

“You keep saying that and yet you keep inviting me to places.”

Ellie laughs and nods her head, “yeah, i guess i do.”

You order food and conversation flows easier than you expect. She tells you about how she got into tattooing, how she started sketching designs as a teenager, how an old friend convinced her to take it seriously. You just listen, fascinated, watching the way she gestures when she talks, the way her eyes light up just a little when she mentions her work. 

At one point she catches you staring, “what?”

You shake your head, smiling, “nothing. Just… I like hearing you talk about this.”

Ellie scoffs, but there's a hint of pink at the tips of her ears, “yeah, well, it's the only thing i'm good at.”

You frown, “i doubt that.”

She meets your gaze, “yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She doesn't respond right away, just holds your stare for a second too long before glancing away, taking a slow sip of her beer and for the first time since meeting her, you get the feeling that Ellie Williams really doesn't quite know what to do with you. 

After dinner she walks you back to your place. It's chilly and, at some point, she shrugs off her hoodie and hands it to you without a word. You pull it on, breathing in the faint scene of her cologne mixed with smoke. 

When you reach your building, you hesitate on the doorstep, looking at her, “you wanna come up?”

Ellie hesitates too, “not tonight.”

You nod, trying to not let the disappointment show, “okay.”

She shifts on her feet, then reaches out, fingers brushing over your wrist, the same spot she tattooed, “text me when you're home,” she says, voice quiet. 

You smile, “Ellie, I am home.”

She rolls her eyes, but there's something soft in the way she huffs out of breath, “you know what i mean.”

You do. So, you nod, stepping back, watching as she shoves her hands in her pockets and starts walking away.

And just before she rounds the corner, she glances back, smirks and calls out, “keep the hoodie.” Yeah. You're in trouble. 

────────────────────────────────────

After that night you obviously don't receive an immediate text. You tell yourself you're not waiting for it, that it's not a big deal but that's a lie, you find yourself checking your phone more often than you should, catching the faint scent of her hoodie when you wear it around your apartment. It's ridiculous how much she's gotten under your skin in such a short time. 

And when her name finally appears at the top of your screen, it's almost infuriating how casual and nonchalant she is about it. 

‘u doing anything tonight?’

You bite your lip, staring at the message, willing yourself to be cool about it. 

‘depends. u finally decided to see me again???’

Her reply comes pretty fast. 

‘don't start, u coming or not?’

You grin to yourself, already reaching for your jacket. 

‘where to’

Ellie quickly sends an address, a bar a few blocks away from the shop. 

When you arrive the place is exactly what you expected from Ellie— dimly lit, a little grimy, but with a solid crowd and decent music. When you walk in she's already at the bar, a beer in hand, dressed in her usual hoodie and jeans combo. 

She spots you with her eyes and smirks, “didn't think you'd actually come.”

You slide onto the stool next to her, slipping your jacket off your shoulders and putting it on your lap, “please, like i'd miss a chance to see you,” Ellie shakes her head but in her eyes there's something, amusement? maybe something else. 

You order a drink and the conversation comes easy, she tells you about a client she had earlier, some guy who wanted a giant, badly drawn wolf across his chest. “I tried to talk him out of it,” she says, taking a sip of her beer, “but dude didn't care, just wanted it big.”

You laugh, “did you do it?”

Ellie groans, tilting her head back, “yeah, against my better judgement. I should've made him sign a waiver saying i wasn't responsible for ruining his life.”

You smirk, “bet it still looked good, because… you know, you're kind of a genius.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes with a downturned smile, “you're so fucking annoying.”

“You love it.”

She doesn't respond immediately, just takes another sip of her drink, eyes flickering over you, “maybe,” your stomach flips. 

For a while you just sit there, drinking, talking, existing in the same space. Ellie doesn't feel like she needs to fill the silence and neither do you, it's comfortable in a way that surprises you. At some point, she leans in slightly, her knee bumping against yours, “you wanna get out of here?”

Your breath catches, but you don't let it show, you just tilt your head, “where to?”

Ellie shrugs but there's something deliberate in the way she looks at you, “anywhere but here.”

And just like that you're following her outside, into the cool air of the night. 

You end up at her apartment, a small place above the tattoo shop, it's cluttered but live-in, sketchbooks piled on the coffee table, an old guitar propped against the arm of the couch, some comics and dinosaur figures on her shelves. 

Ellie kicks off her boots, looking at you, “you want a drink or something?”

You shake your head as an answer, stepping further inside, taking everything in. There's a sketch taped to the fridge, something floral, delicate, half finished, you recognize the style immediately, “you draw at home too?” you ask, glancing over at her. 

Ellie shrugs, rubbing the back of her neck, “yeah, sometimes.”

You turn back to the sketch, “this one's beautiful.”

She watches you for a moment, then exhales, “i was thinking about making it a tattoo.”

“For a client?”

Ellie shakes her head, “for you,” your chest tightens, you meet her gaze, searching. She almost looks nervous, like she's debating she should've said that at all, “i mean— you don't have to, obviously, just thought… you might like it.”

You step closer, your voice almost a whisper, “i do like it.”

The girl in front of you swallows, her eyes locking with yours, “yeah?” 

You nod, “yeah.”

Sometimes shifts in the air, the space between you feels smaller, tighter. Ellie reaches out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering just a little too long but neither of you move. 

Then, she breaks the silence, soft— uncertain, “can i kiss you?”

Your breath catches, “Ellie…”

She shakes her head, “just— tell me if this is too much, if you don't want this, i'll back off.”

You don't hesitate at all, “i want this,” Ellie exhales almost like if she was relieved, like she was bracing herself for another answer. Then, finally, finally, she closes the gap. 

The kiss is slower this time, softer, less rushed, less fueled by alcohol and bad decisions. It's careful, deliberate, like she's memorizing the feel of you. 

At some point you need to back away slightly, searching for air, Ellie's eyes are locked with yours, both of your breaths uneven. There's silence for a moment, no movement, just tension, then— she takes a step closer, your back hits the fridge before you even realize you're moving, the cool surface pressing against your overheated skin. Ellie's hands come up, caging you in, one palm braced against the fridge and the other curling loosely around your waist and without more thoughts, Ellie crashes her mouth against yours, her mouth hot and desperate, this second kiss is not that soft, not that slow, there's teeth and tongue and need. You gasp against her lips as she presses closer, her fingers digging into your hip. 

Her hands are greedy, sliding under your shirt, feeling your breasts, her calloused fingers playing with both of your nipples, caressing, pinching, teasing them, the stimulation makes you gasp softly and tip your head back as her lips move down your jaw and throat. 

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Ellie mutters against your skin, voice thick in desperation and need. She nips at your pulse point, then soothes the sting with her tongue. 

Your fingers find the hem of her hoodie, tugging it up and Ellie takes the hint quickly, pulling back just enough to yank it over her head along with her shirt, she doesn't even give you a second to admire her before she's back on you, hands roaming, mouth finding yours again. 

The way she touches you, like she's been starving for this, like she's been holding back— makes your stomach flip. Your own hands are just as frantic, feeling the hard lines of her naked back, the flex of her muscles with every subtle move she does. Ellie groans when you dig your nails in slightly, the thigh she has between yours and her hips pressing forward instinctively, the friction making you gasp and she takes advantage of it, slipping her tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss until you're both breathless. 

Her hands slide lower, gripping at your bare thighs, and before you can react, she's lifting you effortlessly. Your legs wrap around her waist as she presses you harder against the fridge, her lips never leaving yours. 

“Fuck. I—” you break off with a sharp inhale as her teeth graze your collarbone, biting just enough to leave a mark. 

Ellie chuckles, the sound dark and velvety against your skin, “that's the plan, sweet girl.”

She carries you to the couch, laying you down with a look in her eyes that promises you're not gonna forget this night. Ellie hovers over you, a smirk tugging at her lips as she takes in the way you're sprawled out beneath her, already looking like a mess even if nothing happened yet. Her hands are firm on your hips, her body pressing down just enough to keep you pinned. 

“Look at you,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with amusement as her hands start to roam between your thighs, pulling your skirt up just enough to show her your laced, and already wet, panties, the sight delightful for her, “didn't take much to get you like this, huh?”

Heat flares in your stomach when you feel her fingers tracing up and down your slit over your panties, teasing you painfully, you glare up at her, “shut up.”

Ellie chuckles, shaking her head as she keeps going with her ministrations, “nah, i don't think i will,” she dips down, brushing her lips over the shell of your ear, “you're too fun to mess with.”

Her fingers tug at the hem of your shirt, helping you take it off, she looks at you for a moment, how perfectly your tits sit there, like they are waiting for her. She starts dragging slow, lazy circles around your nipples but not directly touching them, just teasing you to watch you squirm. 

You huff, shifting against her, looking for some friction, relief, “Ellie—”

“Ellie what?” she interrupts, smirking, “use your words, baby, c'mon, i know you can do that for me,” she says sweetly. 

You bite back a groan, your voice breathless, “please fuck me, just—” and she does not even wait, she quickly gets up, almost pacing to, what you assume, her bedroom. It doesn't take long for her to return, this time a strap peeking out of her unzipped jeans. 

She's quick to be all over you again, your head tilting back against the couch as she kisses down your neck, taking her sweet time. Her teeth graze your skin again, and this time, she doesn't stop at just two mark— she leaves another, and another. 

“Gotta make sure everyone knows what a mess you turn into for me,” she whispers against your throat, her voice laced with satisfaction, “wouldn't want anyone getting any ideas.”

With one of her hands she manages to properly pull out her strap out of her jeans and ssomeho to completely take off her pants without getting away from your body. You feel the tip of it grazing your cunt over your blue panties, that subtle touch arousing you even more. 

She easily, without even needing to look, she pulls your underwear aside, the air hitting your wet pussy, you're able to feel how she positions the strap to your aching whole, the thought of her having inside you making you clench around nothing. 

She doesn't rush it, doesn't force it, she lets your cunt accommodate to the girth and length of her dick, slowly putting it deeper and deeper inside you, every inch making you gasp, a small ‘oh my god’ escaping your mouth. But it's not even really hard for you to be able to take it completely, your pussy already so wet making it easier to slide inside and she smirks when she notices it. 

When she starts thrusting, her hips hitting the plush of your inner thighs, you grip at her arms, trying to keep yourself grounded somehow but Ellie just laughs, her breath warm against your skin, “what happened to all that attitude, huh?” she teases, nipping at your jaw, “you've been so mouthy all this time. Now you're just gonna lay here and take my cock like a slut?” every thrust she makes feeling like it hit deeper each time. 

You glare at her, your eyes a bit glassy from the pleasure, “maybe— oh— i don't wanna feed your ego,” you somehow manage to pronounce. 

Ellie grins, enjoying your reactions and quiet whimpers, feeling pity at your attempt to bite back, “baby please— like it's not already massive.”

Her hands tighten on your hips before she pounds her own against you, rough and hard, the friction sends a sharp wave of pleasure through you, your breath stuck at your throat, a pathetic whine coming out and she smirks confidently. 

“Yeah, that's what i thought.”

You don't even have a chance to retort before she pounds into you, hitting that spongy spot inside you, as she devours your lips again, passionate and absolutely cocky about it, like she knows she won. 

She pulls back after a minute, just enough to look at you, her smirk downright smug. She brushes her thumb over you swollen bottom lip, tilting her head like she's examining her work. 

“God, you're cute when you're flustered and fucked,” she murmurs, almost to herself, “didn't think you'd be type to get all shy and sub on me,” she says, her thrusts slower now and her head lowering down to your breasts, her warm tongue circling around your right nipple. 

“I'm not,” you grumble, though your voice betrays you, breathless and uneven, the words almost coming whiny. 

Ellie chuckles, low and rough, “oh yeah?” she presses slowly and deep against you, hitting exactly where you needed, watching the way your body reacts, how you squirm slightly, “then why you're gripping me like i'm gonna disappear?” 

You blink, realizing your fingers are digging into her arms, almost bruising her forearms, holding onto her like she's the only thing keeping you grounded. 

A knowing grin, “busted.”

You whimper, a sound mixed with annoyance and ecstasy, turning your head away but she doesn't let you escape, she lets go of your tit and chases your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth, then lower, drawing her tongue along until she meets your chest once again, this time she directly sucks, swapping between both of your tits, your breasts sensitive from the previous foreplay. You shudder and bite your own lip, trying to contain your filthy sounds. 

“Don't get all quiet on me now,” she hums against your warm skin, “i like hearing you, babe, oh— god,” she glances down for a moment, watching how good your pussy is taking her strap, almost like devouring it, her eyes going wide fill with lust and desire,” the thought of how your cunt is clenching around her cock making her wetter, she needs to feel your walls milking her cock.

Oh, how she wishes she has a real dick to fill your pretty pussy full of cum. 

She mutters, more like talking to herself than you, “i want to make you fill you up so bad—”

Your breath stutters at her pornographic words, your hands reaching to tangle in her auburn hair as you moan softly. 

Ellie looks at you for a moment, she tsks and shakes her head, her voice dropping to a whisper and her lips brushing over your ear, sometimes nipping at the shell, “you wanna act all tough? but we both know you like when i get you all worked up, you're just a dirty pretty girl, aren't you?”

And you don't even have the strength to fight back, to continue being a brat, her dick is hitting your g-spot with every thrust, her hands are massaging, pinching your nipples and her mouth is leaving wet kisses everywhere, or at least you feel it everywhere. She's everywhere. 

God, how you wish you could wipe that cocky grin off her face but you start to feel dizzy, your bud puffy. You're over the edge and she knows, of course she does. 

“Don't you even dare to cum yet,” she says as she manhandles you like it's nothing, this time she's laying on the couch and you're sitting on top of her, her dick still buried inside you, “move, c'mon, don't you wanna cum so bad?”

Fucking mean. 

────────────────────────────────────

It starts to feel real after that night. 

Ellie doesn't say much when you wake up tangled in her sheets the next morning (and you don't really remember at which point you both ended up in her bed last night), sunlight creeping through her curtains. She grumbles something about it being too early, rolls over and drapes an arm over your waist like she forgot she wasn't supposed to be this comfortable with you. 

And for a little, everything's easy. You start seeing her more, sometimes at the shop, sometimes at her place or even yours, sometimes in the late hours of the night when she texts with a simple ‘u up?’ like she already doesn't know the answer. She never calls it anything and neither do you, but there's an unspoken rhythm to it now. 

At least you think there is. 

The first crack in the illusion happens a few weeks later. It's Friday evening and you're out with Dina and some other friends when you decide, impulsively, to stop by Ink & Desire. You haven't heard from Ellie all day— not that she owes you an update on her life, but still. Something in you itches to see her. 

When you push open the door, the place is buzzing. Clients waiting in the lobby, machines humming in the back, Ellie is at her station, leaning over some guy's arm, focused as she works on a new piece. You watch for a second, admiring the way she moves, the way her hands are so steady, so sure. 

“Ellie,” you call, stepping closer. 

She glances up, her face immediately hardening, not with anger but guarded. 

“Hey,” she says, straightening slightly, “what are you doing here?”

The question shouldn't make your stomach twist, but it does, “i was just in the area,” you say, keeping your voice light, “thought i'd stop by.”

Ellie nods slowly, then flicks her gaze towards the guy in the chair, “i'm kinda busy.”

You force a small smile, “yeah, i can see that. I don't wanna interrupt, i just—”

“I'll text you later, okay?” 

She says it in a way that makes it clear this conversation is over, like she's already shutting the door on it before it can even be anything more. 

Something tightens in your chest, you nod, “yeah. Sure.”

Then you turn and walk out before she can see whatever's written all over your face. 

She never texts you that night. 

Or the next. 

You tell yourself not to be that person, the one who overthinks, who waits by their phone, who gets caught up in something that was never clearly defined. 

But when Ellie does finally reaches out –three days later– it's just hey. 

That's it. 

Like nothing happened. 

Like she didn't ice out and disappear. 

You stare at the message for a long time before replying. 

‘that's all i get?’

A few minutes pass. 

‘what do u mean?’

You exhale sharply, fingers tightening in frustration around your phone. 

‘you ignored me for 3 days, ellie’

This time, it takes longer for her to reply, around two hours, and when she does it, it's frustratingly short. 

‘i got busy’

A bitter laugh bubbles up before you can contain it. Of course. She got busy. 

‘right.’

You don't send anything else. Neither does.

Another few days pass and things feel off. 

Ellie doesn't completely disappear but she's distant. Less responsive, less present. She still texts you, sometimes –little things, casual things– but it's different. 

She's pulling away. And maybe the worst part is that you don't even know if you have the right to be upset about it, because what are you to her? She's never called you her girlfriend, never even hinted anything serious. 

So why does it hurt like hell when she starts slipping through your fingers? 

────────────────────────────────────

The breaking point comes in a night you don't expect. 

You're at a bar with some friends when you see her— Ellie, standing at the pool table, laughing at something a girl beside her says. You freeze, you know you don't own her, you know she doesn't owe you anything but does it sting. 

The girl leans in, whispering something in Ellie's ear, Ellie smirks and tilts her head slightly. 

And that's it, that's all it takes for something inside you to snap. You turn on your heel, heading straight for the exit, but before you can step outside, a hand catches your wrist. 

“Hey—”

Ellie's voice. 

You spin around, yanking your arm away, “what?”

Her brows furrow, “what's your problem?”

You laugh, but there's no humor in it, “seriously? that's what you're gonna say to me?”

Ellie sighs, rubbing a hand over her face, “look, i didn't even know you were here.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you snap, “you've barely talked to me all week.”

Her body tenses, “i told you— I've been busy.”

“You always have an excuse, Ellie,” your voice is quieter now, rawer, “you shut me out, you disappear and then i see you here, flirting with someone else like— like none of it mattered to you.”

Ellie's jaw tightens, “you're making a big deal out of it.”

You stare at her, you don't even have the energy to cry, your stare just empty, something in your chest twisting, “is it nothing to you?”

She doesn't answer. 

And that silence is the loudest thing she's ever said. 

Your throat burns, you take a step back shaking your head, “got it.”

You turn to leave and this time, Ellie doesn't stop you

You don't hear anything from Ellie after that night. At first you think she might reach out, maybe not right away but eventually. Maybe she'd text, or show up at your place, or even just try to explain herself. 

But days pass, then a week. Then another. 

Nothing. 

You tell yourself you don't care, that it's for the best, that you should've seen this coming, but late at night, when you're lying in bed wearing that stupid hoodie she gave you, all you can think about is her. The way she kissed you like she meant it, the way she traced over your skin after fucking you stupid, like she was memorizing you. The way she looked at you like you were something more. 

And then the way she threw it all away. You should hate her for it. 

Maybe a part of you does. 

And you try— really try to move on. You throw yourself into work, into friends, into anything that might pull you out of the gravitational pull of her. But it doesn't matter how many nights you spend out, how many times you convince yourself that she was never really yours to lose because at the end of the day, when you're alone in the quiet of your apartment, it still hurts. 

Because Ellie Williams did mean something to you. 

And she fucking knows it. 

────────────────────────────────────

It happens on a Tuesday night. You're walking home from work when you hear someone calling your name, at first you think you're imagining it. 

“Hey— wait.”

You stop. Turn. 

Ellie. 

She's standing on the sidewalk, hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket, looking… rough, like she hasn't been sleeping much, like maybe she's been carrying around the same weight you have. 

Your chest tightens, “what do you want, Ellie?”

She exhales, shifting on her feet, “i just… wanted to talk.”

You huff an ironic laugh, rolling your eyes, “you're about two weeks too late for that.”

Ellie flinches, but she doesn't leave. Instead, she steps closer, eyes flickering over your face if like she is searching for something. 

Then, quietly, “i'm sorry.”

The words catch you off guard, you fold your arms, trying to steady yourself, “for what, exactly?”

She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose, “for fucking it up, for shutting you out, for not knowing how to—” she stops, exhales, “for being me, basically.”

You shake your head, “Ellie, this isn't about you not knowing how to do things, it's about you choosing not to. It's about you deciding I wasn't worth the risk.”

Ellie looks at you like you just knocked the wind out of her.

You swallow hard, ignoring the lump in your throat, “and worst part is i was willing to try. I wanted to try, but you never gave me the chance.”

Her jaw tightens, “it's not that simple.”

You scoff, “isn't it?”

She looks away, and maybe that's your answer right there. 

Silence stretches between you but finally, Ellie mutters, “i wanted to need you less.”

The confession hits you straight in the chest. 

Ellie runs a hand through her hair, looking almost… defeated, “you don't get it,” she mutters, “every time i let someone in, it just hurts. It always ends the same, and i thought if i kept my distance, if i didn't let it get too real, then maybe i could avoid all of that. Maybe i wouldn't lose you.”

Your breath catches, “Ellie,” you whisper, “you did lose me.”

She swallows, doesn't say anything. 

You shake your head, voice quieter now, “you can't just show up after weeks of shutting me out and expect me to—,” you stop, “i don't know what you even want from me.”

Ellie finally meets your gaze, and for the first time in weeks, she looks honest. 

“I want you,” your stomach flips, “but i don't know how to be good at this. I don't know how to keep you,” she admits. 

You inhale, gripping your arms to keep you grounded. 

There it is, the truth. And maybe that should be enough but you're not sure it is, so, you shake your head, blinking away the burn behind your eyes, “then maybe you should figure that out before you come looking for me again.”

Ellie flinches, like she wants to argue but she doesn't, she just nods and looks at the ground. 

When you turn to walk away, she lets you go again.

────────────────────────────────────

A month after, you don't plan to go to Ink & Desire. 

You don't plan to see Ellie at all. 

But it's been eating you alive, gnawing at the edges of your mind— the way she looked at you that night, the things she didn't say. And maybe you just need to end it. Maybe you need to say something final, something that lets you walk away this time. 

So when you push open the door to the shop, your heart pounding in your chest, you tell yourself this is for closure. Nothing else. 

The place is empty, the chairs cleaned and the machines put away, the Closed sign flipped at the door, but you know Ellie. She's always here when it's late. You find her in the back, sketchbook in her lap, a half-empty beer on the counter beside her. 

She looks up at the sound of your footsteps, “it's closed—” and when she sees you, something flickers in her face, looking almost relieved, but she shuts it down fast, “what are you doing here?” her voice is guarded, careful. 

You fold your arms, “i could ask you the same thing.”

Ellie leans back in her chair, exhaling, “i work here.”

You scoff, “you also avoid people here.”

Ellie's jaw tenses, “what do you want?”

And that—the way she says it like you’re some inconvenience, like you weren’t just in her arms a few weeks ago—sets you off, burning with frustration. Your chest tightens, heat flaring in your stomach, “are you serious?” you shake your head, “that’s all you have to say?”

Ellie rubs a hand over her face, sighing, “i don’t know what you want from me.”

You let out a sharp laugh, “of course you don’t because you never fucking ask, Ellie. You just assume.”

Her eyes snap up, defensive, “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you decided that I’d leave. That I’d hurt you so you didn’t even try,” your voice wavers, but you don’t stop, “you shut me out before I ever had the chance to prove you wrong.”

Ellie exhales harshly, standing abruptly, the sketchbook in her lap falling to the ground, “yeah? and what if i was right? what if you got tired of me? what if this whole thing was just gonna fall apart, like it always does?”

Your throat closes, “then that would’ve been my choice to make. Not yours.”

Ellie looks away.

You inhale sharply, trying to steady yourself, “but you didn’t trust me enough to even give me that choice.”

Silence.

Ellie’s hands curl into fists at her sides. Her breathing is uneven, like she’s fighting something back.

“I don’t do relationships,” she mutters.

You stare at her, something bitter twisting in your chest, “yeah, I got that part already.”

Ellie shakes her head, jaw clenched, “no, you don’t.”

Her voice is low, rough, and when she looks at you again, there’s something vulnerable in her face, something raw and exhausted and real.

“I don’t do relationships because they never fucking last, any of that lasts,” she exhales sharply, pacing now, “my dad left before i could even know him. My mom died. And Joel—” She stops like the name physically hurts to say, “he was the closest thing i ever had to a real family, and then he was gone. Just like that. No warning. No time to prepare. And I had to fucking live with that.”

Your breath catches.

Ellie lets out a sharp, bitter laugh, “so yeah. I don’t do people. I don’t do feelings. Because every time i have, they’ve either left or something’s ripped them away from me," she turns to you, eyes dark and serious, “and you—” her voice falters, “you were the first person in a long time that i actually wanted to stay, and that scared the shit out of me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. The anger, the frustration—it all dulls under the weight of her honesty.

You swallow hard, “Ellie…”

Her hands flex at her sides, “i don’t know how to do this,” she mutters, “i don’t know how to be what you need.”

You exhale, stepping closer, “then we figure it out. Together.”

Ellie looks at you, hesitant, unsure, “and if I fuck up again?”

You shake your head, “then we talk about it, we don’t just run, we don’t shut each other out.”

Ellie studies you and she lets out a breath, a real, shaky breath.

“Okay,” she murmurs.

Your chest tightens, “okay?”

She nods, “yeah. I wanna try. For real this time.”

You don’t realize how much you needed to hear that until the weight in your chest finally eases. Slowly, you reach for her hand, and this time, she lets you.

Lets you hold on.

Lets herself hold on back.

[gallusrostromegalus]

I did not care at all for Aizen Sosuke when I first read bleach. I found him boring, and worst, unthreatening.

So it's pretty jarring for me that I have been OBSESSED with him in your AU. I'm rotating him at great speed

Walt Disney was a jackass who was flat-out wrong about a lot of very important things, but he employed a great many geniuses of storytelling, and there's a piece in Disney Animation: The Illusion of Life by Frank Thomas and Ollie Johnson that discusses a key feature of Disney Studios Character Design:

"Of all characters, villains are the most fun to develop because they make everything else happen. They are the instigators, and always more colorful than the Hero. They may be dramatic, awesome, insidious or semi-comic, but they MUST be appealing. Almost any story becomes innocuous if all the evil is eliminated, but we do not necessarily gain strength by being frightening. we want a character that will hold the audience and entertain them, even if it's a Chilling Type of Entertainment."

And I've found that to be an important principle of character design, especially the kind of canon restructuring I do.

Aizen had a LOT going for him in canon- for all of Bleach's other faults, Aizen's conspiracy and THE REVEAL are spectacularly constructed and executed. I legit screamed and threw my mug across my dorm room when I read it in the manga the first time. He's also conventionally attractive and the translations I was reading gave him the speech patterns of Every Douchebag In Your 101 Political Theory Who Thinks He's The Smartest Man In The Room, which made him a terrific combination of Unfortunately Charming, Menacingly Competent and Engagingly Obnoxious.

...But he falls flat in a few key places.

Aizen's reasoning could be MUCH more sympathetic- After all, he is RIGHT. Soul Sciety does suck ass and all the options kind of suck. Who designs a universe like that? An asshole who needs killing, that's who. The best kind of Unhinged Madmen are the kind who spell out their reasoning and you realize that there but for the grace of Not Having Super Powers Go I. Canon!Aizen makes a few Good Rhetorical Points, but seems to lack any personal connection to his all-consuming plan.

Another issue is that nearly every villain with A Plan has a clear end goal AND a lot of the menace is drawn from the fact that the plan *could* work. Aizen's plan for betraying the court guard and then killing them off before proceeding into the Royal Realm to Kill God sorta falls apart when it's clear he planned to use pretty much all his accumulated forces dealing with the court guard and doesn't seem to have a plan for the Even More Powerful Royal Guard, let alone God. For how meticulously planned the rest of the plot is, the last two VERY IMPORTANT steps are just handwaved.

So I sat down and started with the plot beats Aizen MUST hit, and tried to imagine what kind of guy would he have to be to get there? And I came up with this:

Sosuke Aizen is a fundamentally good man with genuinely good intentions who is really trying his best for the whole world.

Think about it- what lengths would you NOT go to if you think you found a genuine shot at Fixing Everything Wrong With The World Forever? We all talk about killing Hitler if we found an actual Time Machine- would you do it if your only chance was when he was a baby? Would you kill an infant if it meant you could stop World War II before it starts? Of course you would! One small life for over 75 million? You'd be insane not to! What if you found out that you could prevent the future extinction of Humanity by killing your best friend today? Ten Billion lives? For theirs? It's simple, really- Hell, it's your Moral Obligation to do that if you were SURE!

-And Aizen IS sure. He is absolutely, totally, completely sure that He Can Save Everyone if he just gets rid of that idiot sitting on the throne of heaven. He's seen the plans! He knows where the gate of heaven is! It's So SIMPLE he just has to get inside, and he knows EXACTLY how to do it, yes it'll be hard and there will be... unpleasant parts but. IT. WILL. WORK.

He is of course, insane.

Aizen didn't have One Bad Day that set him irrevocably on the path of madness. It was a succession of catastrophic disappointments and realizations that he was living in a fundamentally irrational world that made irrational thinking look sane. The Catastrophe that befell his family, working for the central 46 and later the court guard and seeing how the organizations were inept to the point of abuse or corrupt to the core, learning that The Actual House Of God is a place he can just? Go to? Anyone would start thinking you were just a handful of white lies and homicides away from Fixing Everything, Forever.

Not only is Aizen insane, he is nowhere near as smart as he thinks. He is smart- He does have a knack for being able to guess just what will spur someone to action or make them recoil in fear. But mostly he gets extremely lucky Many, Many, MANY times. On some level I think it gives him Confirmation Bias that this is what he's supposed to be doing. Aizen is also nowhere near as smart as (nearly) everyone else thinks he is. His bizarrely good luck makes him look like a hyper-competent genius when really it was really the catastrophic failure of Soul Society as a Society that let a merely mediocre conspirator to evade detection for so long.

Being that he is at most, mediocre, he had to have Outside Help, specifically Gin's emotional support and Tousen's Competence- and if there's a part of the fic that stays true to canon, it's this.

Gin is Aizen's emotional rock in Canon. He's the ONE guy that Aizen genuinely trusts, and considers his 'my only real partner' in his scheme. There's more than one occasion in the manga where Aizen more or less asks Gin "Is this actually a good idea?" and Gin backs him up every time.

...Which is more than a bit at odds with Gin's later stated goal of "I did all this to kill you at your most vulnerable to protect rangiku" . It never rang true to me. So I started thinking why on EARTH Gin would be backing Aizen up like that, and realized there was a hole in my world building that he slotted into nicely :)

On the other hand, the entire fic was started because I didn't like how Tousen's character arc ended, so you can imagine how much he's changed.

But in canon, TOUSEN DOES ALL THE FUCKING WORK.

Lab work? Tousen.

Supervising the arrancar directly? Tousen

Actually getting victims for the Hogyoku experiments? Tousen.

Altering all the archives to keep Aizen's plot hidden? Tousen.

Sending all the Orders allegedly from the central 46? Tousen.

Making sure Unohana believes Aizen's fake body is real? Tousen.

Managing all the day-to-day operations at Las Noches? Tousen.

There's even this little exchange, which is Tousen's first appearance in the Manga:

Aizen establishes this entire meeting is a little fake-out a few pages later with "now isn't that a convenieint time for the alarm to go off?"

which makes him look like he's investigating, but he's also going "Good job on disrupting everyone with the alarm Gin!" It's ballsy of Aizen to do a check-in on his plan with his main nemesis in the room, but also his style.

I think the same thing is happening here with Tousen. To make sure Ukitake wouldn't raise a huge fit about the proposed execution of his beloved lieutenant, which might fuck everything up for Aizen because Ukitake is one of like, three people Yamamoto will listen to (sort of).

...So he had Tousen poison Ukitake to keep him out of the way.

ALL. THE. FUCKING. WORK. It's even in his name! The characters for "Tousen" Refer to a legendary scholar the emperor of China sent out to discover the secret of immortality- only to kill the scholar when he returned with that secret. The character for "Kaname" means "Necessary/Vital/keystone" or "to organize/take account of". His name LITERALLY means "Scholar who is essential for the plan (that we're going to kill later)"

Another thing Kubo did well in Bleach: his name game is Off The Fucking Charts.

-but I digress.

In AEIWAM, it's much the same only this time Aizen sees this very dangerous witness who is immune to his illusions but also extremely snart and capable young man and instead of risking being caught out by the one damn guy who can see right through him, opts to Curse Kaname into doing as Aizen says, and doing all the fucking work of this conspiracy against his will.

It's Not Nice, but Aizen genuinely thinks he's doing Kaname a favor by subjecting him to this degrading and incredibly painful servitude- I mean, Aizen's only other option was to Kill him to keep his silence, and isn't it wonderful that you get to help fix the universe? You're the one always going on about Justice, I don't understand why you didn't jump at the chance to mete out some Divine Justice.

An Excerpt from the captain's meeting in between the Massacre that made the visored and Zaraki's arrival, when Kaname realizes Yamamoto is 100% serious about his promotion to captain of the 9th and goes to throw up in the garden. Aizen offers to go check on him while Unohana very politely reads the general the riot act:

---

"You broke your toy Aizen." Kaname coughs.

"…I really am sorry for running you ragged like this. I really shouldn't have gotten so mad about you hiding the the hogyoku- it was very petty of me." The bastard sighs, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face, entirely genuine.

Kaname stayed on his hands and knees, weaving slightly as another wave of nausea flowed through him, powered by disgust and rage.

"How about this- I've got a lot coming up with the new job, training Gin and disposing of Kiganjo- So how about I promise to not give you any orders for a while? You will have to keep our arrangement a secret and not interfere, of course, but other than that, you're free to do as you please for- a year and a day is traditional isn't it? No, that's not going to heal by then- Oh, would you look at that!"

Kaname didn't have the strength to offer his usual rebuttal that he won't look at anything, ever. The sides of his head tingle like his skul was being pressed between two enormous hands made of static electricity.

"It's 11:11! Alright, I won't give you any Orders until 11:11 am on November 11th, 1911. That's easy to remember! What do you think?" Aizen continued cheerfully, patting his back and the Curse nails.

"…I can't." Kaname groaned. He could scream if he had the energy, but due to Aizen's Illusions, nobody would hear him. "I actually physically can't think. Please…"

"Of course! You really are such a help to me, it would be a shame to lose you. I'll even amend our contract, so you don't get paranoid-" There was a sizzling sound and a new stroke of hot pain up Kaname's spine as Aizen did something to the wretched Bakudo. "There. No compulsions for eleven years and a day. What do you say?"

Kaname grimaced, but dropped his head. Save the energy to fight another day. "…thank you, Aizen-sama."

"Good man! Let's get you on your feet." Aizen beamed, putting his glasses back on and offering him an arm.

---

He genuinely thinks that he's doing everyone a huge favor and if they don't get it it's because they're just not smart enough, but it's alright, He's a Benevolent God and they'll appreciate all his hard work the next time around :)

Aizen is a man who is FULL of joy. He loves what he does! He actively takes pleasure in it! And I think that's something that REALLY delivers in terms of sympathy AND horror for him. Who *Wouldn't* have a great time actually fixing the universe? He's a good man who enjoys doing good works, and this is the greatest work of all!

It also Delivers on the Horror when I get to write the deliciously fun scenes where Aizen is Elbows-deep in a novel War Crime and waxing poetic about how GREAT this is, or being confused why the people around him are reacting with fear. Don't you want to make everything better too?

[scandisim]

Medieval Default Underwear Collection

It's finally done! If you don't know, I love playing the Ultimate Decades Challenge. It's honestly what I play the most whenever I'm actually playing the game. My family is currently in the mid 1300's. One thing that's always bothered me is that the default underwear in CAS doesn't quite feel immersive for UDC gameplay. So I decided to create this collection for just that! It replaces the default underwear for all ages and genders, is compatible with WW, and all meshes are base game compatible. However, if you run into any issues with the meshes and possible missing packs do let me know. This was my first foray into really messing with the game meshes, and I am not at all skilled in meshing yet.

Good to know:

You can only have one set of default underwear in your game at any given time.

These conflict with anything that replaces the default body mesh in CAS, such as Luumia's TIT-E, Hiroki's BB, etc. You could have both in game at the same time, but, you need to make sure the game reads these files first if you want them to show up. Placing them in a folder named "!! DEFAULT UNDERWEAR !!" for instance should make the game read them first. But it is not foolproof, and you may need to mess around with it. Defaults can be sensitive and finicky.

The child female shift does have some clipping if your sim is wearing a two piece outfit and you only remove the top, since the dress is actually a top. The bottoms included are a recolor of the default panties for child females in the same style as the dress as to not ruin immersion with bright blue knickers, lol. There's also a small gap in the mesh that I just could not fix for the life of me. However it is very small and only noticeable in some trait animations.

See images below for what the underwear looks like. Toddlers and infants have the same cloth diaper with side ties which I felt was kind of appropriate for the era?

Let me know if you run into any issues! <3 Public access: 20/12/2024

DOWNLOAD HERE

[lailau7904]

So y'all have seen the Williams F1 Logo before, yeah?

well get ready, becaues I am about to ruin your day!

where does one even begin with this. i am sorry in advance. -just a poor learning graphic design student, who simply tried to enjoy their saturday evening

The Logo

For anyone that doesn't know, here's the Williams F1 Logo. Entirely unedited, copied straight from Wikipedia:

Now like many fans, I actually quite enjoy this logo. I like the modern, sharp edges of it and it's simple yet intriguiging design. It's memorable, while also easily recognizable as a W. I also really enjoy the colour choice (this, however, is entirely a personal preference.)

(entire rant under the cut. please keep reading this took years off my life span.)

How did we even get here?

Let's start at the beginning. How did we even get here? Well I, a poor poor learning graphic designer, was watching this lovely video from Mr. V's Garage about bad F1 Logo's over the past 35 or so seasons. Very interesting, I can only recommend it (but you don't need to watch the video to understand this post)!

Now, to cleanse the palette at the end of the video, Mr. V included a top 10 GOOD logos from this time span, it was very kind of him.

On P4 of this "Good List," Mr. V placed the current Williams F1 Logo, as pictured above. At first I vaguely agreed with this, believing that he probably simply hadn't noticed one of the things that's been bothering me about that Logo since the first time I saw it up close.

The first sign of Trouble

So, what is this mystery issue, you might ask?

It's simple really. You don't necessarily notice it at a first glance, but something about that logo seems off. Taking a second longer, you may notice it yourself.

No, I mean it, take a minute and go look at the logo. It looks wonky as hell, doesn't it?

Well I can tell you the first thing that I personally noticed. The arms of the W aren't in line with the bottom half, see:

(Graphic by @girlrussell who was so kind to let me use it, as it is way prettier than the one I made)

It's a crooked W. There is no good explanation for this. The rest of the font is perfectly fine, geometrical shapes.

Anyway, the good person that I am I went to point this out to my partner ( @leftneb ) who proceeded to inform me that he, infact, was not aware about this and was, quote, "never going to unsee that."

Now, the good FRIEND that I am, I, of course, proceeded to rush into our broader F1 friendgroup to make them suffer for eternity.

What's the logical next step to take? Of course, fix the logo in Adobe Photoshop, you know, as a joke.

(Disclaimer at this point, I am not necessarily the biggest fan of Williams Management Team. I enjoy ALL their drivers this season. I do NOT enjoy James Vowels. Be warned.)(Also I am aware that he probably did not have an influence on the logo)

Trying to fix it. Oh god, I was so innocent back then

Trying to fix the logo in Photoshop is the worst mistake I could've made. THE worst path to take. I could've just giggled about making my friends suffer (which I succeeded in, by the way) and moved on. Instead I ruined a perfectly good Saturday evening, and for what? I don't know anymore.

Anyway, how was I gonna go about fixing the logo in the simplest way possible? Simplest way I could come up with: slap the thing in Photoshop and put two, mirrored boxes at each side to make the sides line up. Small issue, how do I make the thing actually even? Fix: line them up at the intersecting point with the bottom tips of the W.

Here's the result:

Hey, anyone care to explain to me why in THE LORDS NAME the arms are different sized? I mean, surely they weren't before. Surely, certainly, I must've messed up.

I double, I tripple checked. I made sure everything was lined up and made sense. But no.

It just couldn't be. Something was uneven in this logo, something even deeper. Something I could not have predicted when first taking a closer look. It was at this point I realized I had messed up. What rabbit hole had I stumbled across? Certainly, it couldn't get much worse.

And that's when I noticed.

(pictured above; my genuine reaction)

There's MORE? (oh god, the top isn't lined up)

I couldn't believe my eyes. This is the PINNACLE of the sport, and THIS was the logo of one of the competing teams? I mean, yeah, we have a Visa Cash App RB or a Kick Sauber or even a MoneyGram Haas which are all terrible logos, but at least they're CLEAN. (this has not been checked. If anyone wishes to ruin a nice Saturday evening, feel free to check them and tell me how wrong I was in the previous statement!)

But you can see that there is no end in sight for this post. I'm sure you're as scared as I was at this point. By now we were sitting in VC, discussing the horribleness of this logo. I had long informed my irl's about this, who take said design classes with me. And it was one of them who pointed out the next thing that had been bothering me, but I had not been able to put a finger on up to this point.

thE DISTANCE, HOW DID THEY FUCK IT?

I'm afraid I have to confirm your fears.

Yes, those lines are the same length. According to Photoshop, they're on the same level as well, so no flunking with angles.

The gaps of the arms to the main W are not the same. They're differently sized gaps.

It was clear to us, this logo is inherintely flawed. They're subtle issues, but once you pay attention you start to notice things. It all looks slightly wonky and off centre. And eventually, you get paranoid, and start comparing other angles and sizes. And you will keep finding things. This has ruined my life.

HOOOOOW

Honestly, I don't even know what to say. Yes, yes sadly those lines, too, are the same length. Just copied over from one side to the other and layed over on the same height. I admit, they're not layed over perfectly. I was honestly holding back tears at this point. But the point still stands, you can clearly see a difference in width.

Honestly, the only way I can explain it is that at some point there was a mess up of distance or proportions and whoever was designing the logo couldn't pin it down and tried to restore the visual balance by making manual adjustments. And in all honesty? They kinda did a good job, if that's what's happened. I mean, you notice the crookedness of the arms, and then maybe the difference in height, but the rest you probably will not notice if you don't spend too much time staring at it. (like some of us) And even those issues clearly aren't noticeable to the vast majority, considering I had to go point it out to a group chat for my friends at least to notice.

what the fuck is THAT?

Now, the thing about doing this investigative work of prooving a team you dislike is worse in more aspects than you previously thought, is that you do a lot of zooming in. And zooming in means you might notice bits that yours eyes simply overlooked before, because they were too small.

Here you can witness the top of the middle point, that, for whatever reason, really wants to touch the top border of the Logo. I'm relatively certain that's the highest few pixel in the entire graphic, considering earlier chapter "There's MORE?" I have no idea why it looks like that or why they thought it was necessary for it to not end in a clean point.

I just actually have no idea how to even describe what is going on on the top of the left arm. That left hand side, again, touches the side and is therefore the most-left-pixel in the graphic. I, once again, have no idea the purpose of this. However the RIGHT hand side also makes no sense, as it is the most prominent corner in the whole logo. There's pointed corners, and rounded OF corners, but nothing that is trying to form it's own colony in a distant land that hopefully isn't this god awful logo. I hope that blob gets away. I really do. You go king.

i'm loosing my mind

Anyway, the only reason I could come UP with those weird "reachy-outy-bits" was to establish the dimensions of the logo? But if that was the case, I don't understand why they managed to keep all the other potentially border touching corners clean?

Like, look. Those are clean, sharp corners with some clearance off the borders. I have no clue why they managed it here but not with the others.

guys. please.

Backtrackig a little bit, going back to the positioning of the arms.

Do I need to mention that those lines are both the same length and the same (mirrored) angle? I really hope I don't, because I don't think I could be making this shit up. Like, once you roughly know what you need to look for it just kinda becomes easy to find.

As said before, I genuinely do think that most of these issues happened in a chain-reaction. For example, the distances between the main part and the W wouldn't be as noticeable (and they do get noticeable once you start looking at it) if the angle wasn't fucked. And guess what, there's more fucked angles here! Which ALSO influence this specific area of the logo!

this is just embarrasing for you.

something something same line copied over and mirrored etc etc

It's not as visible but the angles defintely don't line up here as well. As mentioned before, these issues for the most part all influence each other. It doesn't really excuse the issues, in my opinion as a designer, because a big company like this shouldn't have these sort of issues in their logo.

So let's review;

to sum it up,

i cannot even BEGIN to explain to you how big of a fucking JOKE this FUCKING logo is. because, i thought to myself, to round the post out, hey, why not show ALL the issues i pointed out in one picture? that would round it out quite nicely, wouldn't it?

Yeah well, this logo sent STRAIGHT FROM HELL just could NOT let me rest. I had only done the lines visualizing the crooked arms in PAINT up until this point, i.e. I had only pulled both up individually. To make a nice "rounding out" picture I still had to add them into PHOTOSHOP. so i did. i pulled up the line. i mirrored the line.

THE ANGLE IS FUCKING DIFFERENT

none. and i mean NONE of my friends had noticed this before. i need you to understand that we looked at this thing with FIVE pair of eyes, and NONE of us noticed that until i thought to myself "Oh I still need to add these specific lines to have ALL the issues I pointed out in my SILLY TUMBLR POST in ONE image" and i get THAT FUCKING SURPRISE

I was PLANNING to round the post out with a statement on how obviously this isn't a serious post. Here, I even had it all written out already because I accidentally started writing it in the last paragraph:

Of course, this is nitpicking, and it's not that serious. I'm aware of that. AS MENTIONED most of these would not be noticeable if we hadn't gone specifically looking for them.

yeah, well, fuck that. i just spent two hours seething about this logo. i'm ending the post on this instead.

[bigfatbreak]

im gonna reserve thoughts on the new season of mlb, but i do have Fears plotwise that make me apprehensive to really take in so ill state it below

marinette's lie about hawkmoth is clearly going to be the big catalyst in this series/season/wtv but my big thing is, if its going to be written, it should have some level of nuance? she's a child who was trying to spare everyone's feelings when it came to a tragedy that was thrust upon her. the rest of us can be like "oh yeah well I just would've told adrien" but that would've been equally explosive, and she really thinks this way would essentially save adrien both from a worse grief than just losing his father and also the animosity of the public. there was no answer that didn't have major repercussions, essentially, and she was taking the path more likely to help adrien's state - after all, gabriel is already dead, but the anger of the public remains. who would they take out hawkmoth's fury onto? years of being a public menace and terrorist would likely be framed at Adrien

but i feel like what's gonna happen is lila is going to reveal her lie in a very big way, (because we're already seeing the narrative push the envelope and be a bit overbearing in how the public LOVES ladybug SO SO MUCH LOOK THE PUBLIC LOVES HERRR) essentially try to sway adrien to her side (since gabe had a big thing with lila and adrien, trying to make them like. two sides of a coin or smth) and Marinette is going to have to try and fix it all whilst everyone is telling her she's a terrible person for lying as though she doesn't already resent herself for lying in the first place, which may lead to her getting akumatized and becoming lila's tool, leaving alya and the gang to fix shit

that could be good, but the issue is, when it comes to marinette the series seems to like framing her choices as foolish or stupid when they could better be framed as tragic. my big worry is when everything blows up and everyone no doubt hates ladybug/marinette for telling a falsehood to the public, there's not going to be a facet of the narrative that focuses on the tragedy of the matter: that she was a child left with a choice and she tried to save everyone and fumbled it. instead everyone is going to say she was stupid with her foolish little love goggles on and that she's just sooo airheaded when it comes to adrien, and they're going to minimize the shit that happened to her as "marinette is dumb" rather than "marinette was put into an impossible situation and no part of it wasnt going to blow up on her"

she wasn't RIGHT for lying to the public, or to her friends, but she also wasn't WRONG to try and minimize the damage. and i don't think they're gonna touch on that latter part in a way that has any sense of respect for the character, coz man. the narrative loves blaming marinette for shit she DIDN'T do, so considering she HAS done something with big consequences, I can only imagine how they're going to beat her character against the wall

[space-blue]

Fixing Vander and Silco's story (a bit)

Using canon events! Sadly we can't actually fix it, but I hope this makes it a little better. I make my own edit proposal at the end that changes the bar scene to include Felicia without issues.

They meet in the mines, and meet Felicia and her partner there too. They end up together somehow (I think we can put the brotherly allegations to rest now, eh?) and one of them (or both) inherit/buy a bar.

Although Vander is the barman, there is no indication Silco doesn't own or co-own the place. After all he comes to take it eventually as his own, and he's still not bartending. That's just not his gig.

It's implied that Vander and Silco made it, as in, got away from the mines, while Felicia clearly didn't, as she comes home to both her daughters with mining gear and gloves.

So despite Vander and Silco building the Lanes together, the mines aren't closed, and the work "isn't done".

Felicia says they've done it, and Vander is happy to celebrate their success. Meanwhile, Silco has his "NoZ" Nation of Zaun book in which he's scribbling, still planning.

Vander's first memory that Viktor sees even has Silco holding that book.

Later, in season 1 episode 3, we see that Vander tells Silco that he had Vander's respect, the Lanes' respect, but it "was never enough".

There's also this fakeout moment in the memory at the bar, where Vander says they're done, and Silco replies with "You're gravely mistaken". And I thought he was going to go all zealous and say "We'll only be done when we have the Nation of Zaun", but no, he claims he's Bozo 1.

And imo, he is probably right. He calls out Vander in act 1 saying "I trusted you and you betrayed me", and Vander does not contest this. It makes the most in character sense as well that Silco is the brains of the operation while Vander is the brawn.

And we can conclude that Silco's goals were always "bigger" and that the Lanes were indeed not enough.

Years pass, during which we can only assume Silco keeps building his Nation of Zaun and Vander happily bartends and manages the Lanes with Silco. Felicia keeps working the mines and raises Vi, then Powder.

Vi is at least 11, if not more, by the time she's on the bridge. This is just consistent with her model, but also to make her 18+ by the time of act 2.

It's a long ass time for Vander and Silco to be running a bar and the Lanes together. Even assuming Vi is more 8 or 9yo, Vander and Silco spend all that time being together.

Sadly, their models aren't aged very well.

We are also forced here to make some unfortunate assumptions.

It's not a problem, IMO, for Silco to know Felicia and be close to her. It's a problem for him to not be close to Vi and Powder too. Close enough to recognise them at least.

It's easy to say, "Well, Felicia went back to the mines and raised her kids and wasn't super involved with Vander and Silco, who lived much higher up in their bar." Adult friendships and all that.

IT MAKES SENSE, but then it makes zero sense that Vander would murder his life's partner, a man he's been with 10 years at MINIMUM (fuck knows how long they were together while in the mines), over the death of a friend in a revolt they allegedly BOTH participated in.

The memories also imply that Silco is responsible somehow, for throwing a molotov. And yet the molotov doesn't kill the enforcer.

But Vander is shown in the opening of Act 1 season 1 pummeling one to death himself, long after the rest of the revolt has died down. That enforcer wasn't getting back up lol

So whatever we pick, because the writers made Felicia and Silco close, they create a plot hole either way.

Either Vander is whacko and murders his husband over a dead friend at a revolt he set up (since he repeatedly apologises for what he did, and claims he "lost his head after she died" and had that guilt on his hands too)

Or Silco and Vi and Powder spend ALL of season 1 acting like they don't know each other at all. Then Silco takes in Powder and somehow never comments on the fact he was friends with her mom.

Everything being triggered by Felicia's death also means that Vander's emotional thematic moment dropping the gauntlets after seeing what his violence led to is then followed up by a horrible attempted murder on the love of his life, which is... you know. Bad writing.

So I propose that they indeed drift apart. Silco knows of Felicia's kids, and they hangout a bit, but they aren't that close. She's busy mining and being a mom, and Silco is busy making the safe Zaun he promised to deliver.

The creation of that Zaun leads them to act out revolts and uprisings. Vander is happy to follow. He's angry, like he tells Vi. And this manifests in violence. Silco points his violence. It's how they create the Lanes and the moniker of Hound of the Underground. A hound usually has a master, after all.

Vander is Silco's hound, and I think, in Vander's mind this absolves him of some of the consequences of his actions.

So when his friend dies on the Bridge, even if they haven't been that close in a while, well, it's easy to put the blame on Silco.

Since we're following the new canon timeline... we'll have to have him go back with the girls, ready to turn a new leaf.

I think the best way here is to have him either dropping them at an orphanage, or back at their home (trusting Vi to look after Powder for a while) or with friends.

That way, Vi and Powder aren't immediately in Silco's legs back at the drop.

Then Vander and Silco take part in the "clean up" at the bridge. They go get bodies, and since they have no real estate in the fissures, they commit them to the sea (we have canon monsters in there, so I'm sure it all gets gobbled up).

That way, we explain why Vander is weirdly shaved, and why Silco and him are at in the Pilt: they just commited the bodies of the fallen to the waters.

There may have been many others, but Silco and Vander stay there, in the shallows, as they talk.

Vander is done. He doesn't want more of this. He thinks Silco went too far with pushing this one to the bridge. Piltover got defensive and they lost too many people.

Silco doesn't get it. Where he goes, so does Vander, but Vander is his own man, he decided to come too, and he killed enforcers too. Felicia's death is tragic, but as he later will tell Renni about the death of her son: at least she died fighting for the cause, and not some petty infighting, or worse, an accident at the shitty mines.

Vander, the Hound, is not only mad with grief, he refuses to carry the blame of his own actions. It's a character flaw and that's fine! The angry man channels that anger with violence, the only way he knows how.

Silco is probably shocked, and may not say the right things to calm Vander down.

Silco is under the assumption that Vander BELIEVES IN HIS DREAM. That he's a true believer of the Nation of Zaun, like Sevika turns out to be. A true believer would understand sacrifice. A true believer would understand too, that stopping now, after Felicia's death, would make THAT VERY DEATH POINTLESS.

So maybe he screams at Vander! What do you MEAN abandoning the fight? What do you mean, being content with the Lanes? How dare you? You'd make her sacrifice meaningless! You'd make Felicia die a pointless death!

And Vander would bellow that it's over. No more death. No more bloodshed. He rescued her kids from that bridge, and they don't deserve to die too, they don't deserve to see more death.

And Silco screams back that it's their job to create Zaun so these children won't have to see more death. Vander is just delaying the struggle.

And then, perhaps, Silco may even mock him. Say that Vander can't change like that. That he's not that sort of person, to just hang up his gauntlets and go peaceful. That Felicia's blood is on his hands too, and that the only way out is through more blood, more sacrifice.

It would be a horrible point to make, if then Vander truly loses it. Silco runs, and Vander's hound comes out, just grabbing Silco and trying to drown him.

It would be poetic, because then Vander goes home in shame. Gets his arm patched up, hides the scar under a brace, collects the kids and tries to pretend like HE CAN BE THAT MAN. Even though he surrendered his gauntlets and metaphorical violence, and tries to lean into the bartender chill persona, there's what he did to Silco.

And later he'll tell Vander "I'll show you what you really are". Because Silco knows that Vander's promises of being a peaceful good dad are flimsy at best.

Anyway, Vander goes home, and eventually the impact of what he's done really hits him. He's single now, and with kids, and the Lanes to run, and nobody knows where Silco is.

Vander slowly realises Silco was right about one thing. Just because Vander followed, doesn't mean he wasn't behind that event on the bridge. Becoming the solo leader of the Lanes has to have hammered that home for him. Suddenly so much responsibility thrust on him.

So Felicia's death was on him too, and his actions against Silco are the proof that he is indeed the sort of man Silco said he was. At any rate, surrendering violence as his first reaction to any trigger will take a lot of work.

He goes to their old hideout and leaves a letter for Silco.

In the happy AU, Silco finds it, and returns to Vander BEFORE ever meeting Singed. There is no glowing eye, no shimmer, and no cannery.

In our AU, Silco never finds the letter. He finds Singed instead. Starts helping him develop shimmer.

I've been thinking that since the goal of shimmer is a form of "keeping alive" and also "bringing back to life", then it's possible that Silco's glowing eye is a byproduct of shimmer experimentation.

And that the only way to keep it alive and function is more shimmer injections. It would otherwise be grey and dead like in the Nice AU.

So Singed is also a factor here. He gives our Silco a real way to deal scary violence to Piltover. And this changes our Silco. He's more radicalised, and more opposed to Vander, having discovered that Vander works with Grayson to keep Zaun under Piltover's boot (basically making sure the boot stays, but doesn't press down too hard).

Vander is, as always, the enforcer of the status quo.

And though this works for them timeline wise, it sadly doesn't change the fact that Silco should know who Vander's kids are.

Vi and Jinx can be excused for not recognising him, what with him being one of their mom's adult friends, and scarred. But Silco doesn't have that luxury. His great friend Felicia had two very distinctive kids, ONE OF WHICH VANDER FUCKING NAMED! And her death triggered his husband so badly he tried to kill Silco over it. If anything, Silco would be hyper-aware of Felicia's kids.

And no amount of alternate fix-its changes that. It's permanent damage to season 1's Silco.

I feel like we can fix Vander's side of things by inventing an entire scene at the Pilt as I did above, but we can't fix 10 years of knowing your friend's kids and then a lifetime of acting like you don't know them.

I think it also cheapens the found family aspect of both Vander and Silco's adoption. You're left to wonder if they took in the girls only because they were friends with the mom.

Silco's adoption of Jinx and co-dependence with her was great because it spoke of the similar shape of their traumas, and how unexpected their bond seemed.

But now it's redolent of friendly obligation. And lies.

How would I fix it by keeping Felicia in the picture?

I would fully remove Felicia's one-on-one with the boys. That night at the bar? It's a party. Young Sevika is here too!

Felicia and many others are there, all congratulating Vander and Silco over the creation of the Lanes. Eventually Silco tires of the social niceties and goes to write in his notebook at the bar. Or maybe there's a montage of the night as the crowds thin.

In the end, Silco is writing, and Vander is still socialising. He talks to 3 people--Felicia, her husband, and a random person. They thank him for all his work. They've done it! And the conditions in the mines are so much better now thanks to XYZ!

Vander is beaming, he's just so pleased. It's clear for him this is the end goal. Felicia asks him, pointing to Silco, if he's okay.

Vander laughs, says Silco is fine, but he's already got his head back in the clouds. You see, Silco doesn't just want the Lanes, he dreams of a free Nation of Zaun.

The other 2 laugh, but Felicia sobers up. She rubs her belly, thoughtful. Then she says "Sounds like a dream worth fighting for."

I don't think she even needs to say anything about being pregnant, but she could go on with something like "I'm expecting. A girl, I think. I know. And I would love if she could grow in a safe city. I'm so scared she'll have to live the way I did, growing up.'

And Vander smiles sadly and tells her, 'We've gotten this far, and we're not going back. We'll make Zaun safe for your kiddo, I promise you that.'

And that's it.

Vander knows OF Felicia. She is a community member. He knows her enough, maybe from Lanes meetings, that eventually he can recognise her children. But they're not friends, and SILCO definitely isn't friends.

And the disagreement after the bridge is fully about where to go from then on, and Vander deciding he wants to run the Lanes and keep them safe, that what they have now is good enough, while Silco wants "more".

That disagreement can turn nasty, and the fact Vander tried to drown Silco becomes a statement about how violent and temperamental he is as "The Hound of the Underground". Something he'll regret soon enough and spend the next few years working hard to try and change.

What do you think?

[masochistkatsuki]

Team Player - Sticky Situation

Pt 2 ← Pt 3 → Masterlist

Without a doubt, Sero was your second best friend. It used to be Katsuki, but after a stunt surrounding him in your second year, you ironically ended up becoming closer to Hanta instead.

This also happened to be the first night you and Sero started your ongoing 'game.' Sero wasn't going to be an issue in this challenge, the tension has been waiting to be released anyway.

Throughout the night, you heard a lot of, in the lightest way possible, obscene noises. In the morning, no one but you, Mina, and Kirishima knew what they were, or that theyd even happened. It turns out, when you're crazy fucking drunk, you usually end up passing out as soon as you reach a mattress.

While everyone was asleep, Eijirou learnt hands on how to fuck, then immediately went on to deploy those skills. He really didn't waste time. But to be fair, that is what you were betting on.

Jirou and Katsuki had morning shifts, and were thankfully stable enough to leave the house after some care from you. Youd originally brought all the pain meds for yourself, but of course you'll help friends in need no matter what.

Katsuki had a scraped knuckle, when he got up to leave, he was hoping you wouldn't notice. Of course, unfortunately for him, it was the first thing you noticed and quickly stopped him. "Hey !! Thats totally going to get infected if it's not taken care of, are you crazy ?"

He stopped and scowled. Even if you weren't as close in your first year and part of the second, you two were still very perceptive and understanding of what the other had going on. "Piss off, I'm going back to my place and I'll figure it out." He went to leave, but -

"Oh no you don't, Katsuki." You knew hed just shower, pick any extra skin or scabs off, then go to work. "Shower here real quick, then im going to fix that for you." He groaned. You acted like such a mom sometimes.

After a bunch of bickering, light punches and explosions to each other, Katsuki left just 20 minutes before Kirishima and Mina left on their own. What they were probably off and doing doesn't really need to be fully described.. You can definitely guess. As for Kaminari, he was trying to crash and play xbox on Sero's couch, but he ended up getting kicked out immediately.

By 8 am, everyone was out of the house but you and Sero. "Oh um.." You awkwardly looked around. "Should I go too ?" Maybe you shouldve reconsidered how easy Sero would be, this was way more nerve wracking than you'd thought.

Was it ? Or we're you just preparing for the inevitable interrogation.. one youve been slacking off on, you still knew barely nothing about your .. more difficult friends.

"So.. Wanna explain what you and Mina are doing this time ?" He grinned down at you, head resting on his palm. He sat at the kitchen table, clearly intending for you to sit down.

You looked around, as if checking no one was there even though everyone had definitely left. A sigh escaped your lips, and you eventually sat down. Hopefully Mina would understand, but there was just no keeping anything from Sero.

You two had been some of the closest friends since October of your second year. Since the Bakusquad threw that Halloween get-together with them and a few select other friends. From then on out, if you weren't with Mina, you were with Sero.

It started when, stupidly, enough, you fell for Katsuki. It was pitiful, really. You only told Sero, not even Mina. Truthfully, you'd liked him since your first year. Kirishima was hot, but really just a coverup so you wouldn't have to be embarrassed about liking someone who obviously didn't like you. Mina had a special place in your heart, but she had a habit of playing cupid when not needed. You knew the only way she wouldn't intervene was if you mentioned someone she secretly liked.

But, as we all know, Bakugou wasn't easy to like. It was a difficult task feeling so strongly about him in private. Throughout your whole first year, he was snappy and rude, often trying to turn your positivity into pessimism. Though he grew a lot, and protected you many times, and helped you train and gave you honest points and dare you say compliments ? You knew he cared, he just didn't show it that well at first. But any deeper emotional stuff just wasn't an option, and you understood that.

In your second year, he was much softer around the edges. He was still the same smart ass, and egotistical explosive teen, but there was a sense of self awareness and restraint to it. He started learning how to dial it back when possible, but his temper remained when pushed or with people he didnt know. Even so, you continued to admire his effort.

And still, your feelings so stupidly remained. Even when he pushed you away, or acted like he didn't know you, you just couldn't dial it back. So, in a cliche highschool move, you plotted to make him jealous.

In hindsight, its just a funny story to laugh about with Sero, an inside joke if anything. But in the moment, it felt like a whole secret operation. As if this was what all your training was meant for !

At the get together, you wore the cutest but most tempting, tight black dress. It hugged you perfectly, and was accompanied by soft squeezing thigh highs, striped orange and black, like a classic witch. Anyone with eyes was looking at you atleast twice.

You and Sero agreed to hang out the night, and after a few drinks, when you were sure Katsuki was looking, get up all close and flirty. It seemed simple enough, up until then, you hadn't felt that much attraction to him. You only had to fake it for a few hours.

But in a twisted turn of luck, the very same night you specifically were meant to feign attraction, you suddenly, and genuinely felt it. Who knew Sero Hanta could look this fucking good ? Obviously he was hot, lanky, muscular, a damn future Pro ! But youd always just seen him as your fortnite duo or the guy who always arrived everywhere in baggy t-shirts and basketball shorts.

So why the fuck was he suddenly showing off now ? His hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail, spare strands framing his face angelically. He had a black compression shirt on, purposely displaying how hard his chest and abs were. To top it off, he had the iconic grey sweats, hanging off his hips slightly, showing off his v line and happy trail. Holy shit. Hanta Sero is so fucking hot.

Maybe it was apart of the plan, maybe it wasnt, but you and Sero stayed together the whole night. According to Mina, you looked 'real good together'. Coincidentally, you two happened to be getting real close and flirty anyway.

It started with you feeding each other shots. It was easier for Sero, as he was a good amount taller than you. His hands, bigger and stronger, though it made sense with his quirk, traced over your jaw, before he tilted your chin up and poured a shot of vodka down your throat. Fuck, this was way more intimate than you expected it to be. The burn in your inner thighs only felt lighter when you drank down the hard liquid.

Mistakenly, you thought that it couldn't get more sensual than that, right ? Of course, you were wrong. In the process of figuring out how you'd get your shot down Sero's mouth, he got onto his knees in front of you. Holy fuck.

Your hand subconsciously held his cheek, holding his face up to yours. His head was resting against your midriff, while his arms wrapped around your waist. He looked way too pathetic like this for his own good. "I have a better idea, Hanta." Little did you know, Katsuki did notice the encounter, and you leaving with Sero right after. His knuckle was white with his grip against the telltale red solo cup, but no one seemed to notice as he said nothing.

In your dorm, meticulously decorated to your interests and hobbies, you laid yourself down on your bed. Hanta stood above you, arm covering his mouth as a blush crept through. Whatever you had in mind, it was instantly going to his lower regions, the outline of his dick heavy in his sweats. "Im on board."

You laughed, taking in how usually calm and cool Sero was frantically looking around in intervals after staring at your laid out body. "I havent even told you what I was thinki-"

He rested his head against your stomach again, hands comfortably grabbing at your thighs and hips. "I want to do it." He hummed against your tummy, slightly blowing into it, forcing a laugh out of you. Well, it wasnt like you didnt want to do it, for fucks sake, it was your idea. You figured, Katsuki was never looking at you anyway, you might as well have fun with someone who did.

That's how you ended up letting Sero strip your tiny black dress off you, leaving yourself exposed on your bed, dressed only in a matching black lingerie set, (a cute outfit always needs cuter underwear !) and your Halloween thigh highs. Hanta couldnt have looked happier.

You took out your handle of Vodka, and poured a stripe down from in-between your boobs, to your pantyline. You looked up at Sero, who was watching from above, his palm flat against his bulge. "Heres your shot, Hanta."

So yea, you were supposed to make Katsuki jealous, but the way Sero slid his tongue underneath your panties slightly before going back up, dragging it slowly across your abdomen, tracing the muscle against your underboob, before finishing the shot at your sternum, sucking right as he released his mouth from your body felt like too much. But it was apart the plan ! For the greater purpose ! .. Huh, where have I heard that before ?

So, how, were you supposed to not tell Sero the truth ? The tension never ended between you two, and he was looking at you like he was about to eat you whole. You finally had a reason to fuck Sero without seeming weak for dick. It was time to use it.

After explaining the whole situation to Sero, he just seemed to smirk wider. "Well that explains a lot. Like all the heinous sounds. You guys always forget how thin my walls are."

You choked on the off brand fruity pebbles he served you a moment ago-- he heard ?! "Excuse you ?" You looked at him suspiciously. He should've been passed out.

"Im a heavy weight but a light sleeper. Besides, I stayed somewhat sober because I was trying to figure out why Bakugou and Kirishima were Fighting" He crossed his arms, bulky elbows shamelessly knocking against the table.

"Okay, okay. I got it- Hold on, Fighting ?" You looked at him confused. When the fuck did Kirishima and Bakugou get into a fight ? While you were genuinely concerned, he just laughed.

"Sorry, I mean I know now they weren't, but cmon, last night everyone thought they were fighting with each other." His eyes closed cheekily while his grin remained.

You just picked your jaw back off the floor and kept searching for answers. "What ?? Why ??" You were wracking your brain for everything Katsuki did this week, and if hed mentioned anything about Ei. Nothing.

"Well, for starters, Kirishima's girl was hanging out with Katsuki the whole time. But for the first time ever, you and Bakubro weren't hip to hip. Hes always seeking you out, especially when hes drunk. The fact he was with someone else and letting Kirishima be all buddy with you was definitely something." He continued to mindlessly eat his cereal like he just said nothing.

You looked around awkwardly, choosing to freak out over that later. As much as you wanted to gush and talk about Katsuki, it wasn't really easy to just talk about other guys after telling one you essentially needed to have sex with him. Fuck. You two were clearly both thinking the same thing, but who was going to break first ? Just as you began to mentally complain about his stubbornness..

"Hey, so.." He began mimicking you, eyes looking at your spoon, the ceiling, out the window, but never at you.. "I um..." The tips of his ears began fading into a strawberry red. It was really odd to see him so nervous.

"What is it, Hanta ?" You rested a hand on his forearm, hoping to remind him you wouldn't bite. As much as you loved whiney and whimper-y guys, you needed him to communicate.

"I have an idea this time."

So, for the greater good, (of getting Kirishima and Mina to fuck) for everyone's sake, (hold on I thought they just fucked ?) you ended up in nothing but your panties, and taped over Sero's couch. (i dont think this one was necessary ..?) Oh. So that's why he kicked Denki out so quick. "Just how long have you been wanting to do this ?"

He grinned wide, like he'd been asking himself that too. "Since you kicked my ass in the Sports Festival." You audibly gasped. It clicked for you just in that second-, in your first year, you ended up winning by capturing Sero, his legs tight together between your thighs, and one wrist caught in each hand. With the way his arms were still spread out, some of the guys still made fun of him for getting 'crucified."

Your own position, now three years later, was mirroring just that. Your thighs were taped together, and your ankles were adorned with additional tape securing you midair. Your arms were spread out slightly above your head, wrists bound and held up in the air. Underneath your lower back, hips, head, and neck, he provided soft pillows to keep you from hurting. It was surprisingly comfy.

He stood before you, hands on his hips, admiring his work. His eyes carefully scanned over you, and down your body. You noticed he especially was paying attention to the way your thighs squished together due to the bondage. "This looks way better than I could've ever imagined."

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the slight mustache he'd been growing out. "Yea im sure." Your eyes bore into his, trying not to let the real pathetic position you were in get to his ego. "Look, I let you tie me up, so I want a favor."

He smirked at you, and leaned over. His face was close to yours, he smelt like light cologne and sugar. His lips were just a breath away from yours, and as he spoke, "Anything for you." They trembled against you, just barely touching.

You hummed happily, carding your digits through his inky black strands. It was often something he let you do when you were in need of calming down. "So you know the whole operation, but I barely know anything about the last three people." Truly unfair, you needed to make things even and quick.

His eyes trailed to the top right corner of his vision. He thought for a few seconds before his eyes lit up. "I understand now," His eyes looked back into yours before his concentrated face grinned again, "I think I know exactly what you're looking for." Before continuing, he gave you a quick wink.

His hand now gripped your hip, his usual basketball shorts slid down. He rubbed his length through the thin fabric of his boxers with his other hand, growing greatly to its full size. The hand on your hips traveled to your now exposed clit, tracing random letters and shapes against it.

You whined out his name, thighs struggling against the binds, squeezing together in the process. He moved his hands so his middle and ring were fucking lightly into your cunt.

With how close everything was, you felt distinctly how your natural wet excretion covered and slid over your inner thighs. "Perfect.." He breathed, tongue teasing the side of your neck.

He readjusted his hips over yours, and pulled his boxers down before inserting himself between your wet thighs. The tape and his hand held you together, making the perfect slight gap right against your pussy and firm thighs for him.

He began pistoning himself through and out the gap, breath heavy against your chest. He began slow, but it was clear he was trying to hold back.

You smiled softly, wishing you were rubbing your hands up the wide expanse of his back how you would during make out sessions. "You wanna go faster, Sero?" He sighed, slowing his shaky pace again from where it began to gradually speed up unconsciously. He totally forgot to ask.

"Yes.. Please." He rubbed a hand up your midriff, relishing in how soft your bare body was. His hand stopped at your breasts before he began his part of the deal. "Jirou likes it when her hair is tugged or messed with. If you.." His pace quickened, letting himself enjoy the feeling while helping you, "If you keep making eye contact and playing with her hair, she'll be on you by the end of the night."

You tensed the muscles in your thighs, catching his tip. "And how do you know that, Sero ?" You wanted to touch his hair as he mentioned, but your suspended arms weren't moving anytime soon. Fuck, this was getting annoying.

"Because every time Momo does it." As if reading your mind, the hand just under your boobs palmed at your nipples briefly before resting in your hair, scratching at your scalp, "She runs back to her dorm to touch herself."

You held back a gulp-- How did sero know that ?? The girls group chat was the only place Jirou ever mentioned it, he shouldn't have known. "Oh wow, does she really do that ?" You batted your eyelashes at him, trying to get more information and distract him from the fact you actually already knew that secret. He knew a lot more than youd originally thought.

He smirked, hand going back to pinch at your side boob. Even though his actions seemed steady, his breath was rapid and his hips were starting to shake. "Im.. Im getting close.."

You forced your face to remain soft. In reality, you felt smug and slowly accomplished. Though Sero proved to have his own difficulties, you were getting closer and closer yourself, to the goal. "That's okay, just keep telling me about them. Only two more people left, Hanta."

"Kaminari is.." He tried thinking, but only sighed. "Sorry mentioning him turns me off." You just laughed, and waved your hand as much as you could from its tied place in the air.

"It's him, don't worry, it won't be a challenge.." You looked around quickly. He wasnt softening, but you didnt want the mood to be ruined. At the same time, you desperately needed information on Katsuki. "How about this.."

It took a minute to convince him that undoing the tape around your thighs was a good idea, but as soon as you reminded him that you two would actually end up fucking, he gave in.

He was now caged between your hips and still bound ankles, his tip pressed against your inner lips. "Hanta, do you have a condom ?"

His eyes widened. "Oh ! Yea, I found one in one of my guest rooms. I think Mina was sleeping in there." He winked knowingly. Damn, as thankful as you were, you were a little embarrassed about her premonition and his good observation skills.

"Good.. Then.. Ill let come inside, you just need to fuck me good and tell me how I can do the same to Katsuki." Your eyes locked on his, and you used the freedom now granted with your legs to move your thighs around his waist, lower legs still stuck together in the air.

He groaned, quickly ripping the packaging with his teeth and pulling it on. The entirety of your round wasn't really that long, but the years of teasing had built up so much, just the slightest touches felt like too much to Hanta. "So hes really private.. not even Kaminari knows all that much, but.."

His rubbery tip slipped through your soft entrance, the wetness hed been keeping going only helping you suck his whole size in relatively quick. Not to mention, he was noticeably smaller than Kirishima, making what would usually be a harsh fit much less painful. "Cmon, Sero, you can tell me." You made your voice more sultry, making up for the lack of touch you could provide with your hands.

"We know hes definitely a virgin." You gasped, half from the way his tip got caught on your gspot for a moment before pushing further, half because that made him the last virgin in your friend group.

During your second year, class 2-A and 2-B went through a virginity loss craze, a lot of people doing it with friends just to say they lost it. Most of it was just awkward quick stuff, and it ended up with almost everyone staying inexperienced and shy, like Kirishima. "Really ?" You pushed your hips up into his, trying to keep some composure. It was still interesting Katsuki never did anything, by that point he was an in-school celebrity.

A deeper groan reverberated in his chest, steadily getting a good pace to fuck in and out at. "Hes a lot more sensitive and emotional than people think." He kept gradually getting faster, pressing against your gspot faster and faster every time. "He usually responds with anger as a default feeling, but if he trusts you already and you come onto him strong and clearly enough again and again no matter how much he snaps, you'll have him."

By the time he was done explaining, you were both close and whining into each other's neck. He was practically laying on top of you, his messy black hair covering your vision. He was moaning now, "Can I finally cum, please ? I told you everything I know.." His hands were scratching slightly at your thighs, composure slipping away faster than he could catch it.

You rarely felt this weak, but for some odd reason, you hoped to god for any reason but the fact you finally knew more about Katsuki, and the honestly hot fact he was a Virgin. Before you knew it, you were crying out, "Yes, now, Hanta" while your thighs and walls closed in on him. Your previously sore hips were shaking, getting more action in two days then they had since this school year started.

He bit into your neck, muffling a girlish moan from him as a warm release spilt into his (Minas) condom. His hips kept lightly thrusting before completely stopping. He was still dumbly panting and whining a little, sounds gradually getting quieter as he calmed down.

"That.." He took a deep breath in before it stuttered out. "That was so fucking good." His eyes locked into yours, face still dangerously close. "Remind me to thank Mina later."

a/n : i think this one flowed a lot more naturally than kirishimas, but it took me a bit longer. hope its good !! tried adding more katsuki implications but i didn't want it to escalate too fast yet

taglist : @hyunjinshairband7 @icarusthefoolish @adv3rs1ty @waterfal-ling @hon3y-13mOn05 @sugerglidder @scr4luv @hauntedstudentobservationus @pinkpantheris @yogupink @cupkiki @fwskullz @katsukiswife @flavouredair @wOnd3rxoxo @slytherinpenguin12 (crossed out names are not working !)

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

DC BATFAM FANFIC IDEAS

Bruce not telling anyone in the JL his identity and one day he casually mentions something only an orphan would understand. - The JL members who are orphans understand. The others don't. - The entire JL gets concerned.

Tim's nervous (Read: really scared) around Jason. Jason does not like this and wants to fix it. Wait, why does Bruce glare daggers at Jack Drake? - Jason: I sense child neglect. Dad's already onto it, i see. Ok so how do i use this to get Tim stop fleeing the room whenever i walk in.

Sort of an AU fic where Bruce and Oliver were close friends (Read: brothers and that's what they see each other as) as kids, still as adults, and as vigilantes they work pretty well together, they recognized each other instantly even in cape, and while the the JL doesn't know their identities, each knows the other. - Also they're both autistic and somehow chaos ensues after Flash overhears them talking one day at the Watchtower and now the JL wants to know how these work so well.

Bruce was a wild child and so is Damian.

Jason adjusting to being under a roof, right after Bruce found him.

The first days of Tim's being Robin. Bruce and Dick are concerned, while, oblivious, Tim is doing things that only neglected kids do. He is surprised others care. Dick sets out to change this.

AU where Jack ends up being a crap dad. Bruce has had enough and steals legal custody. - Bruce: Well you had one chance at being a dad and you blew it. - Bruce: Tim's my kid now. - Jack can't do anything about this. To Tim, Jack is 'Father'. Bruce is 'Dad'.

Some of the villains notice that the other vigilantes and even Red Robin himself like joking that 'RR's folks don't even notice that he practically lives at our place, they won't notice him sneaking back in at 2AM'. - Until one day they joke about 'RR's dad blew it. B took legal custody'.

Flash has ADHD but tells no one. The other see the signs tho. Batman calls him out on hiding it. Why Bat? Welp, the other nominated him. GA joins his autistic buddy tho.

This isn't Batfam but Billy/Captain Marvel accidentally drops some street child stuff. The League, of course, pick it up.

Bruce has trust issues. No specific event- just it was that way after his folks died. The JL figures it out that it's not just how he is, he just generally doesn't trust people. They figure out that something happened to make him this.

The JL has to come to Gotham for a mission. They have to stakeout in a graveyard. At some point while they still have a few hours, Batman slips off. When *insert any JL member(s)* find him, he's standing above two graves. They catch him saying "Hope you're proud, Mom, Dad." - Chaos ensues from this.

Kid!Dick has a nightmare. Bruce allows his kid to spend the night with him.

Cass gets into a fight with David Cain. She is shaken. Bruce is there for her, though.

Duke has a nightmare.

Tim tries to sneak outside after having a nightmare. Bruce catches him because he's a Dad. He sensed a disturbance in the force. Anyway instead of getting mad he makes it clear who Dick learned it from and tickles Tim to bits and then carries him back to bed lol.

That's all i got for now lol. Might update it if i get more ideas.