#don't judge me i'm old and struggling

[auroravandelli]

⸻ amy adams, 40, cis woman, she/her ; ] … the photo on the missing poster is of AURORA VANDELLI. they are FORTY, and have been missing for SIX MONTHS. when the sun rises, they work as CARPENTER. rumors in town say they can be PESSIMISTIC and KIND-HEARTED. they chose to live in A HOUSE, and have an uncanny resemblance to Ripley (Alien), Joyce Byers (Stranger Things), Elastigirl (The Incredibles). can they survive another night ?…⸻ clouds outlined by glowing rays of sun, the scent of rain on a warm day, calloused hands holding you close. [ ⸻ Jell, 30, PST, she/her, none ; 

Rory's mother died at a young age. She barely remembers her, but what she does remember is that of warmth and safety and love. For a long time, it was just her and her father. He worked in construction and would often take Rory to the smaller jobs he had. There her love for building grew and soon she was good enough to help her father out. Never worried about getting her hands dirty, she liked seeing all the hard work come out as something beautiful, like a custom table or a beautiful home for a family to fill.

As much as she loved building, she loved designing even more. She went to school for architecture and there she met her husband. They started out as best friends, and didn't start dating until after graduation and realized they both got jobs in the same city. Living in Boulder, Colorado, it didn't take long for the family to start putting down roots. They got married at 25 and had their first child at 28.

From then on their lives were pretty normal. No drama here! Just a family raising kids in the city. They had a stunning four more children for a total of five, and amount of kids neither of them had really planned for but ended up with anyway. Don't tell the last two they were, ahem...unexpected ;) But Rory loved having a big family. She didn't grow up with her mother, so she was determined to be the kind of mom she always wanted growing up: loving, patient, supportive. Nobody is perfect of course, but most days she felt good about her life.

(TW: child death, child illness) But when their oldest daughter, Elizabeth, was about 11 years old she got very ill. Leukemia took her fast and hard, and they barely had another year with her before she passed away. It was a brutal, long year spent hanging on by a thread for the family that was trying to take care of four other kids while their daughter lay dying. El was a smart, thoughtful girl, wise beyond her years, whose dying wish was that her parents would be happy again.

Rory didn't know if that could ever happen. She felt gutted, like a part of her was permanently missing and would never return. She fell into a deep depression, and by the time she was able to pull herself out of it her husband was at his wits end trying to keep everything moving and on the tracks. Back in the saddle, Rory thought it would be a good idea for everyone to go on a bit of a family vacation. A slight reset, a way for them to spend time together and try to figure out a path forward without Elizabeth.

So the road trip began. And soon enough they found themselves driving through Arcadia. Once they hit the bridge, they doubled back and made a stop at the diner where the townsfolk told them that they'd be unable to leave. Rory's husband was the first to go and check for the dreaded tree that everyone spoke of, and when he came back looking surprised and nervous, Rory checked herself as well. It looked like everyone was telling the truth.

Five years is a long time to be in a town like this. Five years trying to rebuild their lives and keep their family safe. There wasn't much need for an architect in arcadia, but carpentry and woodwork was her second nature, so Rory made herself useful by repairing the dilapidated town as best as she could.

Her kids, noted below, would be known by most of the townsfolk by now:

Twins, Leo and Hudson. Leo is the momma's boy, very well mannered and helpful. Hudson is a little hellion and is always following hunters around and getting into trouble. They are 9 years old.

Max is a quiet and smart kid who mostly sticks to himself. he likes to draw so you can see him sketching around town but is almost always with his mom or dad. He's 7.

Joey is the baby, and at 5 he's everywhere all the time. He's a little riot he's a sassy five year old and loves attention and people.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

Friends- They hang out all the time! Usually spend their mornings taking a walk together, or they'll sit and talk and have lunch together. They're both trying their best to live a normal life in this dangerous place and that starts with building strong community connections!

Babysitter- your character is trusted enough to watch four hellions! considered part of the family practically.

Mom- Does your character need to be mommed? look no further we are here for you and all your mom needs.

Savior- This person saved one of her kids from something, we can plot it out but because of that she is in forever debt and is very accommodating to this person's wants and needs, always trying to do things for them.

I'll also be submitting a formal WC for her husband! If anyone is interested in that, let me know :)

[ddejavvu]

can you write something about how the gang handles a really emotional Curtis sister... Like she literally doesn't even know why shes crying most of the time she just is. She is literally me

send me requests for the outsiders!

--

At Dallas's groan, "Ah, here come the fuckin' waterworks again," all eyes are on you. You'd been hoping to fly under the radar, but now that seven pairs of eyes are staring at you, your tears escape hot and free down your cheeks.

"It's- I'm fine!" You insist, voice thick and choppy as you rush for the bathroom. You don't shut the door, because even if you did you know someone would have barged in. It's predictably Darry and Soda, but Two-Bit lingers in the hallway, peering in worriedly.

"You're okay, kid." Darry encourages you, a strong hand on your shoulder to help you get yourself under control, "Somethin' the matter?"

"What's with the tears, Baby Curtis?" Two asks, "Movie gettin' to 'ya?"

It's a horror movie- it's safe to say you're not sniffling over blood and guts.

"No, it's-" You sniffle, letting Sodapop tug you into his side where he's now perched on the lid of the toilet. He slings an arm around your waist and you lean gratefully into his side, thankful for the pressure of a body against yours.

"It's nothing. I don't know." You shrug helplessly, and Two smiles- kindly, not teasingly.

"You've got a condition or somethin'." He decides, traipsing back into the living room, "We oughta turn you in to a doctor, have them diagnose you with some crazy new brain condition. Maybe they could name it after you, kid."

"Yeah, Crybaby Curtis syndrome," Steve snickers, and Soda shouts a halfhearted, 'Be nice!' to his friend despite not being able to see him.

"Lay off, Steve," Johnny groans, and you hear Ponyboy chime in with a fervent, 'Yeah!' that he would have kept to himself had Johnny not led the charge. Despite having the upper hand, Ponyboy still struggles to pick fights with Steve. Usually it's a losing battle.

"Come on, kiddo." Darry urges, and Soda sticks close to your side as you shuffle back into the living room. Dallas doesn't move aside to give you your old seat back where he's stretched out over half of it, but he also doesn't protest when you throw your leg over his own to fit on the cushion.

"You've gotta man up, kid." Dally decides, snatching his cigarette out of his mouth and blowing the smoke into your face, "Can't be burstin' into tears all the time. People are gonna think you're weak."

"I am weak," You concede feebly, wiping at one last tear that streaks down your cheeks, "I don't know why it happens most'uh the time. Just does."

"Some people are just like that." Johnny smiles kindly at you, and you appreciate his sweetness, "We ain't gonna judge you."

"It'll be great for gettin' out of trouble," Sodapop grins mischieviously at you, "Just think, when you're a wild child in high school, and you're comin' home drunk at 2AM, Darry's gonna yell at you. Just flash him those teary eyes of yours and he'll get all soft for 'ya, he'll let you off real easy."

"Hey- Don't you go givin' her any ideas." Darry points a warning finger at Soda, and Ponyboy scoffs, surely jealous at the prospect of your secret weapon.

You share a secret smile with Soda, though, one that's hidden from both of your brothers. Two-Bit catches it and snorts, "Damn, Darry. I'm not itchin' to be you in a few years."

"Well then you'd better start hangin' out at your own house every once in a while," Darry glares at him, "You spend so much time here I'm gonna give you a chore on the chore chart."

"I don't even do chores at my own place," Two-Bit snickers, like the suggestion is the funniest one he's ever heard. He stretches his arm out behind your head, resting it on your far shoulder, "Just call me whenever you're goin' to those parties, Y/N, and I'll get drunker'n you, make you look like a saint in comparison."

"Dally's a saint in comparison to you, Two-Bit," Ponyboy gripes, "Just don't climb through my window expecting me to help you sneak past Darry."

"Now I mean it, boys," Darry snaps, "Don't go givin' her ideas! Conversation over."

Dallas waits all of three seconds before leaning down, tucking his face beside your ear so that he can drawl, "I'll teach you how to sneak past him if you can go without cryin' for a day."

"Deal." You hold out a pinky for him to link with his own, and if anyone else in Tulsa had offered it, they'd have gotten slugged. Instead, Dallas's finger curls around yours, and he shoots you a shit-eating grin, eyes glimmering dangerously, "24 hours, crybaby. Don't let me down."

[callsign-datura]

retired!simon who you get to know after his last deployment. he doesn't tell you about his past, he doesn't tell you about what his career was. all he tells you is that he's a troubled man. retired!simon who you fall in love with, despite his many struggles and closed-off behavior. retired!simon who skips the dating period. automatically claims you as his spouse once you both agree to be together. he's an older man-- in his words, "too old 'ta date". retired!simon who cooks, does laundry, keeps things straightened up on top of managing to remember every date that is important to you. birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, etc. retired!simon who never had his birthday celebrated as a child and doesn't let you celebrate it, but also never happened to tell you why. you just assumed birthdays weren't his thing. retired!simon who comes through the front door and calls out to you. "m'home, love,"

he pauses when he hears you giggling. you come down the hall with a cupcake and card in hand, and you immediately go to greet him. "welcome home, si," you say quietly, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "i know you don't like celebrating your birthday, buuut i just wanted you to feel special for once since you've been working so hard recently." your expression softens when his eyes twitch and he looks away. "i made cupcakes, and dinner's done..."

you trail off as he shrugs off his jacket with a pensive expression. "si? is something wrong?" you ask, reaching up to touch his shoulder. he grunts in response, but he's shaking. he's shaking because he forgot about his birthday, but now... now he remembers being scolded. he remembers having a beer bottle thrown at his head during a fight with his father, on his birthday. he remembers limping back to the safehouse, bleeding out, wondering if his birthday would also be his death day. he remembers tommy nearly overdosing on his birthday. he remembers everything.

he looks at you, his pupils dilated. your eyebrows quirk in worry, and you murmur his name as you reach for his face. he tenses once again but ultimately leans into your touch, his lips quivering and his hands shaking at his sides. retired!simon who decides it's time to tell you. sits down with you, and explains why he doesn't like birthdays. he tells you about his mother, his father and his brother. he's vague about it, but you listen nonetheless.

you listen so closely, and you even begin to cry. he's surprised that you feel so much empathy for him that you cry over his story-- and he's slightly moved by your compassion. he expects you to be angry that he never told you, but... "oh, simon," you whisper, your tone thick with emotion as you look up at him with tears in your eyes. "I'm sorry. i didn't know. that's awful..." and you embrace him so tightly his breath hitches. he leans into the embrace and tucks his face into your hair. "m'sorry, love. shoulda told you a long time ago."

you shake your head back and forth. "no, don't apologize. it's not your fault. i understand why you would feel as if you have to hide this from me," you begin. "but you can trust me. i'd never judge you. i love you and i want to help." again, he's moved by your compassion. he's silent for a moment before he utters, "okay." "take your time. you don't have to spill your heart out to me now. i want you to do it at your own pace..." his chest tightens. you're being so accepting, so understanding, and he doesn't understand why. he doesn't understand how, but he appreciates it. your warmth thaws his heart and his mind, once frozen by his trauma and his history. he wonders if you're really willing to stick around. he knows it's not easy to deal with him. he expects you to leave after he tells you everything, but you don't...

retired!simon who decides to celebrate his birthday with you from now on.

[halemerry]

So there's a lot to unpack here but I want to start by talking about the ending and specifically about the Metatron and the calculating moves made at the end of episode 6.

Every single piece of what happened there was a manipulation technique being employed against Aziraphale to an almost brilliant degree and I'm honestly a little obsessed with what this says about the Metatron in particular.

Let's go in order.

First of all. We see him order coffee. In a human body. Something sweet and sugary. He talks to Nina and asks her about her shop name. Does anyone ever ask for death? And when she tells him no they don't his response is to say "so predictable". Our introduction to him here even when everything about him reads like a sweet old man is presented to show us someone who reads the world in terms of being predictable to him.

He then shows up in the middle of Aziraphale's existence being threatened. He immediately cuts down the threat's authority (using outdated language like Az himself would favor) and reemphasizes his own connection to Heaven. When Michael doesn't recognize him and he puts her down and then directly engages Crowley. Crowley who, to Aziraphale, has for centuries at a minimum been someone he thinks is smarter, better, more Good than these other archangels. The Metatron validates these beliefs. Crowley is more Heavenly than these archangels who couldn't even recognize the voice of God when he was standing right in front of them.

The Metatron draws attention to the fact he's in a human body. The kind of body Aziraphale has been in and loved for nearly 6000 years. He then banishes the archangels, implying their morality is in a gray space, and validates Muriel someone we have seen Aziraphale react positively to and someone outside the current power structure. Look at me, he's saying. I see and validate the little guy.

He then tries to talk to Aziraphale. Aziraphale says "I've made my position quite clear." And then the Metatron offers Aziraphale the coffee. This bartering chip, consuming sustenance, is a thing that Aziraphale and Crowley have used as their connective tissue for centuries. It's an olive branch for them. It's giving Aziraphale bodily pleasure and the Metatron implies that he himself has partaken also - a thing we know that Aziraphale has struggled historically with moralizing. He is seen by the closest thing he has left to his parent and he is having old fears validated as safe and old habits being played upon to make him feel secure

He then REMOVES Aziraphale from his home turf. Not only does he remove Crowley from the equation but he takes Aziraphale from the place that has stood as a place of sanctuary throughout the entirety of the season. The shop is Safe and Aziraphale is leaving it and he is leaving the one person who might be able to smell the bullshit coming from the Metatron. The music notably turns absolutely dire here.

The next time we see them the Metatron tells Aziraphale that he doesn't need to answer instantly. He can take his time, if he likes. All the time he needs. And then tells him to go tell Crowley. Once again bringing Crowley in as a valid part of this while manufacturing a scenario where he can't possibly be.

Az ends up in a place where he's overwhelmed and confused and he wants so badly to believe what he's being told. It's an appealing thing from his perspective! He feels off kilter like he's made a mistake in judging the Metatron. He can't even fully articulate what happened to Crowley at first and he's had absolutely no real time to actually think it through. He's running on sheer reactive energy.

The Metatron starts their conversation by asking Aziraphale's opinion. Who should rule Heaven? This is once again playing into making Az feel validated and like he's a part of this decision making process. The Metatron corrects him, complimenting Aziraphale and making him feel capable and in control. He reassures Aziraphale's bafflement. And draws attention to some traits that, while true of Aziraphale around Crowley, are not his defining traits in the eyes of Heaven. You don't just tell people what they want to hear I find particularly notable in this regard given Aziraphale spent most of his time on earth actively lying to Heaven and doing just that. But it fits into the narrative Aziraphale has built around himself, especially post Apocalypse. The Metatron then says I need you (a phrase Az will use much more painfully here in a minute).

And even after all this Aziraphale says no. He says flat out he doesn't want to go back to Heaven. He says this!!! And then the Metatron sweetens the pot. He swaps tactics. Not once has this come up until Aziraphale pushes back against the idea. If the Metatron could've gotten him without using it I have no doubt he wouldn't have bothered with it. Come to Heaven and we can save Crowley. Aziraphale loves Crowley. Aziraphale thinks Crowley is better than any of the angels he's interacted with. Crowley is Good and Nice and Kind and always saving him and now he's being presented with a way to return that. He can Forgive Crowley - a thing Crowley has always presented to Aziraphale as something he struggles with. All of these things Aziraphale has watched Crowley react to in a way that belittles himself or distances them from one another. Of course he wouldn't consider that maybe what he was actually saying is "I'm unforgivable and I don't want that forgiveness."

The Metatron offers Aziraphale a Dream Offer for the pre Armageddon Aziraphale. You can keep your Crowley. You can heal him like you have always thought he deserved. You can have power and control the people who for your whole existence has beaten you down. It can go back to how it was but BETTER.

When Aziraphale leaves he still hasn't answered. He goes and has the conversation they have. It's intense and emotional and the Metatron comes in after the Moment all casual and asks how it goes, knowing fully well the shitstorm he had just set up to get created. And then he turns around and says "always did want to go his own way" which is not only true of Crowley but framed as a bad thing despite the fact that he has just spent twenty minutes or so telling Aziraphale that he's done his own thing and that is Good. He is playing both sides of this perspective as it suits him. And then he cuts down Crowley asking questions, pressuring Aziraphale to avoid doing the same. He then proceeds to ask Aziraphale not if he's made up his mind but if he's ready to get started. He is one by one closing off exit routes to this thing as Aziraphale starts to look more and more panicked and indecisive. He makes sure the bookshop is in good hands and asks Aziraphale if there's anything he needs to take with him. Letting Aziraphale have the illusion of choice while cutting down "I don't want to" as an option altogether.

And Az, as soon as the Metatron is out of shot, tries to express this. And then he falls back right on old coping methods. The Metatron pats him on the head. Reassures that he's the right one for this. That he is Good. That his particular skillset is needed here.

It is a masterstroke of manipulation. A very dark twist on what we see Crowley do time and time again with Aziraphale throughout the millennia. Familiar in a way that makes Aziraphale feel safe. Except this time this is being used to put him back in line. It's brilliant and painful and it fucking hurt and I need a season 3 to see the Metatron get what's coming to him stat.

[theeartuaist]

When Obsession Has Unlimited Resources

Following up on my post about institutional yanderes (the ones with ACTUAL systemic power like judges, doctors, etc.), I've been thinking about another terrifying category that keeps me up at night: the ELITE yandere. Not just wealthy, but the kind with so much social capital and resources that normal boundaries simply don't apply to them.

Let's break down this nightmare fuel into three distinct but equally terrifying subcategories:

The Ultra-Wealthy Yandere

This isn't just "rich person obsessed with you" – I'm talking about the kind of wealth that makes problems disappear. Billionaire-level resources where money isn't just power, it's practically its own legal system.

The ultra-wealthy yandere doesn't need to stalk you themselves – they have a security team for "your protection." They don't need to threaten your landlord – they just buy your entire apartment building. They don't need to sabotage your job – they acquire the company and have you transferred to the division that reports directly to them.

It's horrific hiw easy it is for them. Your boyfriend suddenly gets a dream job offer overseas? Your best friend wins an "all-expenses-paid vacation" that keeps getting extended? Your family's medical debt mysteriously disappears right before they receive a "generous offer" on their house that would relocate them hours away? That's not coincidence – that's calculated elimination of your support system through "generosity."

"I noticed you were struggling to make rent, so I took care of it. No need to thank me. By the way, I bought out your lease. You can stay here for free... or move into my guest house. Your choice, of course."

Every kind gesture has invisible strings. Every "coincidence" is purchased. And you can never PROVE anything because who would believe that a billionaire with everything would go to such lengths for someone like you? The power imbalance is so vast that even your valid concerns sound like delusions of grandeur.

The Celebrity Yandere

This is the yandere with not just wealth, but a public platform and an army of devoted fans. The person whose obsession with you is disguised as "inspiration" or "devotion to their muse."

The celebrity yandere weaponizes their fandom. That cryptic song lyric about someone with your exact birthdate? The character in their movie who shares your unique mannerism? Their fans will dissect every detail, hunting down the "inspiration" until your privacy is shredded by people who think they're participating in a romantic scavenger hunt.

They don't need to contact you directly – they can send messages through their work that only you would understand. They don't need to threaten you – they just need to express "disappointment" and watch as their fans become an unwitting harassment campaign.

"I can't believe you're dating someone else when [Celebrity] OBVIOUSLY wrote their entire album about you! How could you be so ungrateful?"

The most terrifying part is that you become part of their narrative whether you consent or not. Your identity gets absorbed into their public persona. Your private moments become content, your resistance becomes drama, and if you try to speak out? Their PR team ensures your story is buried beneath headlines about your "obsession" with them.

The Old Money/Political Dynasty Yandere

This isn't about new wealth or public fame – this is generational power. The yandere whose family name opens doors, whose connections run through every elite institution, whose influence is woven into the very fabric of society.

The old money yandere doesn't need flashy displays of power. They operate through whispers at country clubs, through college friends who now run institutions, through family connections that go back centuries. Your graduate school application gets rejected from everywhere except the program where they happen to be studying. Your promising career path suddenly hits invisible barriers – except in their family's field. Opportunities mysteriously vanish and reappear in ways that funnel you directly into their orbit.

"What a pleasant surprise running into you here. Did you know my family has been members of this club for generations? Let me introduce you to everyone. They're very interested in meeting you."

Their obsession is cloaked in tradition and propriety. Their stalking looks like proper courtship. Their family doesn't threaten you – they simply make it clear that your future success in any elite space depends on your relationship with their heir. And if you try to break away? The subtle blacklisting begins – nothing provable, just doors quietly closing.

What makes ALL these elite yanderes so dreadful is that their obsession is disguised as opportunity, as generosity, as privilege.

"Do you know how many people would KILL to be in your position?" "You should be grateful they even noticed you." "How could someone like THEM possibly be obsessed with someone like YOU?"

The gaslighting isn't just from them – it's from an entire society that views their attention as an honor rather than a prison. A society that sees their resources as inherently legitimising their behavior.

And when the alternative is complete financial ruin, or public humiliation, or professional blacklisting... the gilded cage starts looking like safety. Your resistance is worn by the sheer exhaustion of fighting against resources that seem infinite and you become complicit in your own captivity.

Capitalism is the real enabler here.

[peepshow321]

TaskRaccoon Premium: Chapter 7

Teaching a Dumb Jock New Tricks

First chapter

Previous chapter

Jason gazed down at the TaskRaccoon app, which was pointing him to a nearby faculty building for his new task - his task to tutor something in Ancient Greek and Classics. It was going to be a breeze he thought to himself and he looked around the familiar quad. The app has thrown him a few curveballs, but he had ended up in a body he could be happy with - handsome, hunky and clever to book.

He entered the faculty building, the TaskRaccoon app pointing him to a small study room on the seventh floor. Noting the queue outside the old rusty lift Jason decided to take the stairs - it was free leg exercise after all he figured. He bounded up the stairs, noting the fuller energy he now seemed to possess and building up a further layer of sweat.

He barrelled into the small study room, seeing that the other student was already there, sat down with textbooks and papers spread across the small desk. The other student was slight and fair, with wispy blonde hair and a thin face framed by rounded glasses. He was dressed in dark chinos, smart brogue shoes, and a crisp Oxford shirt. He was, Jason thought, a classic rich boy prep. Maybe Daddy had got him into college, he was struggling with his classes, and now he needed Jason's help to keep up. Pathetic.

The other student stood up, looking at Jason with a mix of bemusement and surprise, before sticking his thin hand out. "Hi, I'm Simon. Thanks for coming. And you are?" Jason took Simon's hand boisterously, shaking it firmly to show Simon who was boss. "Hey man, I'm Jason. Friends call me Jace though." A hint of displeasure flicked across Simon's face as he made contact with Jason's sweaty palm, but he recovered quickly.

"Well, Jason" Simon continued, notably refusing to call him Jace, "thanks for agreeing to this. I really need the extra credit." Jace sat down, his legs spread extra wide. Jace noted with a grin the bulge in his sweatpants. "I'll be honest", Simon continued, "I was quite surprised when you offered to help me out. I don't think I've ever seen you in our lectures." Jace laughed - he couldn't exactly tell Simon the truth, that he had in fact graduated last year, top of the class, when he had been Josh. "Yeh man, I guess not. I keep myself pretty busy." Jace caught Simon looking distastefully at his sweaty body and gym clothes, and heard Simon mutter "yeh, busy, I can imagine."

Jace started rocking casually in his chair. He was already, he could tell, really bored of this Simon guy. He was being a buzzkill, and was judging Jace for the way that he dressed and presented himself. Jace figured that Simon was just jealous. Jealous that while Jace was a hunk and smart enough to lead a tutor session, Simon was a bit dweeby and clearly flunking his classes! Jace figured he would keep this session quick, hit Simon with some of the basics, and then bail. We wanted to explore this new bod. "So Si", Jace started, noting Simon's nostrils flare breifly when Jace gave him a nickname. "Where do you want to start?"

Simon looked relieved to be starting. "How do you feel about starting with some language, maybe some Greek letters? I know that's where a lot of people struggle. Maybe being in a frat will give you an advantage" Simon added snidely, although the joke was over Jace's head. Jace was instead thinking about whether he should join a frat. Maybe this body was already in one. Fraternity life wasn't something he had ever been interested in as Josh - he had always thought of them as boorish and a waste of time - but Jace realised now that that was a stupid point of view. He could live and hang out with other guys who worked out and played sports whilst also studying to be top of the class. Also, better access to girls - it was mad that he had been in four hot bodies and still hadn't gotten off with anyone! Why had he been such a prude before? He nodded to Simon's suggestion, thinking it would be a cakewalk. He aced his language exams when he was a student and now he was pretty sure he was of Greek descent. Teaching this dweeb was gonna be the easiest money he ever made.

Simon pulled out a thin workbook and paused. "Did you.. did you bring any paper or pens?" Jace just laughed. "Sorry my man, came straight from the gym", Jace responded, flexing a bicep as he did so. Simon looked unimpressed, and his patience was wearing thin. He passed Jace the workbook, and said "Ok, well, look at these letters and their me their English equivalent."

Jace thought that was a pretty lazy way for Simon to learn, to have Jace basically do his homework for him, but at least it wasn't complicated. Confidently he took the workbook to look at the Greek letters and ... blank. Nothing came to mind. He tried to refocus - he must have been more tired than he thought - but he continued to draw a blank. "Eh, sorry", he laughed nervously. "I definitely know this stuff." He had studied these letters in freshman year and he knew he had aced the language exam, but when he tried to reach back into his memories, they were hazy and unfocused. Why the fuck couldn't he remember this, this was basic stuff.

After a few minutes, Simon said "don't worry, some people struggle with the basics. That's why the professor asked me to help tutor some of the... struggling students." Jace looked up at Simon with a confused look on his face. What had Simon said? That Simon was tutoring him? That wasn't right, was it? Jace blinked - it was like his brain was always still catching up with him. "Eh, no man. I agreed to tutor you."

Simon laughed, not unkindly, before realising that Jace wasn't joking. "Oh, you're being serious" Simon said awkwardly. "Erm, well, I'm about to graduate top of the class so I don't think I need tutoring. And, no offence, but are you sure you've got the grades to be a tutor?" It dawned on Jace that Simon had basically called him dumb. He wasn't dumb, he had come top of the class! But when he looked down again at the worksheets, his mind was completely blank - the Greek letters meant absolutely nothing to him. Had the app done something? And if it was going to make him a tutor, why would it make him forget his knowledge about Greek letters?

He thought about the task he had agreed to - "Looking for a student to tutor History and Classics asap!" - and, slowly, it dawned on him. The task wasn't for him to be a tutor, but for him to be a student receiving tutoring. "Oh fuck", he said out loud. The app wasn't going to turn him into some top of the class nerd like he should be, but into someone who needed tutoring, who needed help. Someone who was struggling with his classes. The app had created the perfect struggling student. It has made him dumb.

Jace now realised that that feeling in his head - that hazy feeling that caused his thoughts to feel thick - wasn't because he was tired. His difficulty working out his age when he looked at his new ID, his inability to remember his old classes, even some of the things he had been saying and ways he had been acting. He wasn't the academic student he had been once and had tried to get back to but some... dumb jock stereotype. The driver had said he didn't have time to study and Jace had said he had a scholarship - the app just made those facts real. He was a jock, a wrestler only at school because of his prowess on the mat and not for his smarts. He didn't have any smarts. And that persona trickled down to every facet of his new body - the muscles, the clothes, the hair, the smell, the nicknames.

Simon could tell that Jace was getting worked up. "Hey man, it's okay, everyone's gotta start somewhere. Even if you have left it pretty late... Look - let's start with something more basic ok?" Simon pulls out another workbook and Jace cringes as he sees the title - Greek for Beginners! It almost looked like a book for teens, not a college student. The book had English translations to help but, by this point, Jace just couldn't concentrate. He tried to follow the words with his finger to help him concentrate, but couldn't get over how thick and hairy it was. He tried to voice the words out loud, but kept being surprised by the deep timber that he spoke with. The room was getting hot, his hair was itching everywhere, and he couldn't stop thinking about how badly he smelt. Everything he said or did just sounded stupid. It was hopeless.

Jace had lost track of how of time had passed, and was startled when Simon's album went. "Oh crap", Simon went. "I'm really sorry - I've got a lecture I totally forgot about. Sorry, I know this is right in the middle of our session. How about you keep that worksheet and we'll pick up the second half soon? Sorry to have to bail like this!" Simon spoke in a whirlwind and Jace had a hard time keeping up. Was the session over? "I'll be in touch" Simon added as a parting comment before dashing away.

Jace sat back, a bit thunderstruck by what had happened. He felt muddled, but at least now the task was over. He was on campus, so there must be loads of people needing help with something. He just needed to pick something that kept him young but maybe got some of his smarts back as well - something that wouldn't leave him as some thicko jock stereotype.

He booted up the app, but it took him back to the task screen - it was greyed out, covered in "TASK ONGOING" in block capital letters. He tried to go back to the home screen or to the task list but all he got was a prompt saying "You cannot select a new task until the existing task is complete." It took Jace a while to work it out, but he realised that with Simon bailing halfway through their session, the tutoring he had signed up to wasn't over. He realised that until Simon finished the session, he was stuck like this.

He saw on the app that there was an option to cancel, but he noted with fear the warning in large letters - "Abandoning a task while ongoing will lead to penalties." What penalties? He had no idea what the app could do? Jace started descending the stairs of the faculty, emerging back to the campus quad. He didn't even have Simon's number, so unless Simon reached out... he was stuck. He looked around the campus. Did he try and follow Simon to his class and force him to finish the task? Did he find out wherever Jace lived and wait? Or did he bite the bullet, and abandon the task and accept the penalties. His head swam.

"What the fuck do I do now?"

Next chapter

[yuyu1024]

Lettuce

Pairings: Mingyu × y/n

Genre/tags: non idol, dating

Warning: 🔞 fluff but still smut, pet names (babes, baby, love, honey, sweetheart etc.), cursing, unportected/protected sex (always be safe), kinks (size, breeding, tits, etc), mention of small age gap, mention of low self-esteem/confidence and insecurities

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.6k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: been away. I didnt know if I should post this or delete but then... I dont want effort to go to waste so.. 😅 i hope this is an okay one.

Have a nice day.

Masterlist

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"Are you still waiting for your ride home?"

You look at the group of girls standing a few feet away from you. They are from the department across your office.

"Is your boyfriend late?" She adds a follow up question

You smile, "I am." You cautiously answer.

They are not your friends so you are not comfortable to share more than that. And also they are known to be the gossipers in the officr so, any details about your personal life would be the next topic for the next few weeks if you share anything with them.

"It's already late... are you sure he's still coming?" One girl asks.

Luckily, the bus arrives just in time for them to hurry in. No time for you to even chat with them anymore.

"Thank goodness..." you sigh feeling relieved.

*pings*

🐶: sorry, im late. 😭

🐶: i helped an old lady cross the street.

🐶: didn't know she would ask me to also help her get boxes of soju in her shop.

🐶: she admitted to pretending to struggle crossing the street so she can ask anyone to help her and his son 🙃 and then made me buy a whole bunch of lettuce.

🐶: like a whoke bunch😶

🐶: you like lettuce right babe?😚

You smile as you read your boyfriend's text. You don't know if its you imagining him pouting because he feels sorry he made you wait or its because he felt used and scammed.

💖: you're so silly.

💖: its still a good deed so its okay 😊

🐶: but i am 10mins late.

🐶: i cant let my princess wait for me.

💖: i can wait. As long as its you... ♥️

You see him read the message and then not reply.

"Hello stranger..."

You got startled when Mingyu embraces you from behind and kissed you on the cheek.

"Yah! You scared me." You slap his arm

"Sorry..." he giggles and kissed you again. This time on the lips.

"Stop..." you say, blushing. "We are outside."

"So...?" He grins and then puts his arm around you. "We are a couple. Who the fuck cares?"

You roll your eyes. "You know people judge..."

"No... they are just jealous because I am dating a wonderful woman..."

You shake your head. "No... they are not jealous because of me..." you push him away. Forcing a laugh. "Probably because you look good in that double denim look."

Here you go again with your self pity and self judging. You always do this. 'This' notion that you are way below over any other girl and that you are just lucky Mingyu is your boyfriend. You always make an effort to put yourself down without even noticing that Mingyu does not like it.

He fucking loves you. Inside and out. From head to toe. From front to back. He even loves it when you are not at your best behavior nor position. He just... loves you. Period.

But on your end, even with a million reassurance, you always doubt yourself for him.

***

Arriving at his apartment, the first thing you did was announce that you are going to take a shower. You didn't even looked at him when you said it. You're not mad at him or whatever. You are just guilty and feel sorry for being down out of the blue. You didn't even talked that much during the ride home.

"Hey..." he takes you by your arm and pulls you close for an embrace. He kissed the top of your head and then forehead. "Take your time... I'm going to cook dinner."

You smile with no teeth showing. "Okay..." your voice sounding almost a whisper.

"Anything in particular you want? We have meat, fish and vegetables... like a lot of lettuce..." referring to the whole plastic the old lady sell him. "You want something with soup or fried? Ramyun or pasta?"

"Hmm... I like pasta... and a salad on a side?"

"Okay... as you wish my princess..."

The whole apartment smells like a five star restaurant. The fragrance is to die for and makes your mouth water. When you got out of the bedroom, hair still damp, you got suprised by how extravagant Mingyu arranged the dining area. Fancy plates, lit candles, wine glasses and a bottle of his favorite red win. All of a sudden, iy felt like you entered an Italian restaurant wearing your baby pink pajamas and hello kitty slippers.

"Hi, babe." Mingyu is a ray of sunshine while putting on a few more finishing touches on the table. "Ready to eat?"

"Aww..." your heart is aching with pure joy. He is the sweetest man alive.

You stumble your way to him, caused by your own feet. He managed to catch you giggling with you. You look silly but he find it cute. And then as your eyes met he immediately captures your lips for a kiss. Small pecks that got deeper and more seductive. The kisses are loud that it echoes and bounce off the walls of the apartment. He can't also stop touching every curve of your body. From your hips, to your ass and to your tits. He even lifted your shirt so he can access your bra and yank one side down exposing you boob.

"M-mingyu...." you giggle as you try to pull away from the kiss. He does not want to let you go. He keeps on chasing your pink lips whenever a gap starts to build in betweem his. "We need to eat... the food will get cold..."

He didn't answer. He leans lower so he could give love on your exposed bud. He suck it first before he lets his tongue lick it and make your squirm.

"M-mingyu..." you inhale. "The food...?"

He finally lets you go, smiling. "Fine." He chased one more kiss. "But after we eat..." and another one. "I'd like to go straight to dessert." And another one. "You know I love my dessert." He says, bitting his lower lip while grinning like a mad dog.

"You're crazy!" You pinch his nose.

"Crazy over you..." he growls and suddenly picks you up off the floor. He puts your legs around his waist and you automatically hang your arms over his shoulder to hold on.

"Yah!"

"I can't wait. I think I want to begin our dinner with dessert first." His eyes is filled with desire and he is ready to wreck you.

Kicking the door open to your bedroom, Mingyu lays you down gently but in a hurry at the same time. He is on a mission. He is not going to make love to you. He will FUCK your brains out tonight. You know that look in his eyes.

"No condoms... I need to feel you... skin to skin..." he pulls his shirt off and throws it, hitting the wall, then begins to unbuckle his belt and pants. "And I'll like to fill you up until it leaks out of your pussy." He adds, grinning

"Oh God..." you try to get a hold of yourself. Not ready for what is coming

He pushes down his pants and underwear in one go. His length springs free and is up, steady and hard. It's tip glistening with pre cum.

"Turn around..."

You do as he says and go on fours on top of the bed. He pulls your pants down, revealing a bare and wet pussy ready to be torn.

"No panties huh..."

You blush. "Well... I know we'll have sex today... I just didn't know its going to be this soon..."

Mingyu hovers on your back, hand sliding up and down your curves. "Do you want me to stop and just go on with dinner?"

You lower your heard, embarassed, even though he's not seeing how turned on and red you are. "No... I would never say no to you..." after a few breaths in you look back, cheeks red and warm. "You know sex with you is my only addiction."

"Fuck yeah it is..." he says proudly and satisfied

He eases himself in, slowly but deliciously. He skipped prepping you. He can't wait anymore. His dick is aching and wanting to feel your walls.

"I'll be a little rough to you today, babe." He smacks your ass and a moan escapes your lips. "I didn't like what you did earlier..."

"Ughhh!" He slams strong and consistent. It's driving you insane how he could hit the very back of your cervix. Actually he could hit every thing inside you. Thats how long and thick he is. "W-hat... what did... I do?" You arch your back and pushed your upper body up so he can embrace you and touch your body as he thrust your brains out.

"You know..." he grunts as he adjusts and tries to go deeper, even though he is already at the deep end of your insides. "I don't like it... when you don't appreciate yourself..." he inhales and exhales as he feels you clench and make it tighter. "Fuck! Babe!" He kisses the curves of your neck and bites on your shoulder when he feels the tightness thats make it fucking sensational for him

You ubotton your top to give him access to your chest. You didn't unhook your bra though. You just pulled the ladies out and the bra helps give them a push up.

"You are beautiful... sexy... and a wonderful woman..." he pushes your hair out of his way so he can kiss your neck. "Love yourself... the way I love you."

He then pulls out, almost making you cry and beg. But them makes you turn around to face him.

"Can you?" He asks with the most loving eyes

You crash your lips to his. Pushing your tongue in him. You didn't stop until you hear a moany cry from your boyfriend. His brows then creases when you playfully bite his lower lip. "I want to..."

"But what?" He carries you off the bed and pins you to the wall, beside the window of your bedroom. Your one leg touching the ground while the other is hooked over his forearm. "Answer me, babe."

He slams back in you. Stronger and much deeper. Which confused you coz how? Its not like your cervix can expand. But thats what it felt when he slammed you. It didn't hurt. It felt insane actually. Insanely goodm

"You are kind... sweet... caring... hardworking... knows what you like and dislike... respectful..."

You are catching your breathe in your throat. Its like you are choking from excess pleasure. You try to speak but you can't let go of the high. So instead of speaking, you just shook your head.

"You don't agree?" He asks. Mingyu looks at you with his puppy eyes and showered you with kisses. Then he kept repeating all the good qualities you have as a person and even physically.

He really is telling you every bits about you. Everything that he loves and dislike but accepts coz it is you. It is part of you. He really do love you.

"What can I do... to reassure you?"

You put your hand over his mouth. Not to shut him down but to hush him for a second. Just for a moment until you get it all out for him.

"Fuck me!" You cry as you can't help but  cry more of his name. You are so close to your orgasm. "Nggghhhh...!"

You shut your eyes ready to explode but then Mingyu pulls away from your hand, takes you back in bed to finish, when he suddenly says the two words you didn't expect him to say while he's fucking your brains out

"Marry me..." he says.

Your eyes opens, looks at him in pure shock and bliss. "W-wha..." you can't finish your words. He was hammering you. You can't answer. "Mingyu!" You moan his name so loud when your world spun around.

"I love you." He grunts as he see you melt and when he pushed into you a few more times, he finally begins release himself you. All the warmth and every drop of him in you. "Fuck!" He exhales, dropping his body on you but not his weight. "I love you..." he says again. "So much..." he kisses your shoulder and then your cheek. "So... what do you say?" He smirks

"Suddenly?" You look at him, confused.

"Hmmm..." he scrunches his nose, still wearing the smile on his lips. "Not really..."

He then gets up, pulling out of you, which felt like you got more naked than what you are now. More exposed.

"Wait lemma clean you first."

He runs into the bathroom and takes a towel to wipe you clean. Just clean enough to be presentable but not totally wipe his seeds off you. He wants that in there.

And then he runs out of the room.

"Where are you going? Babe?" You are confused. Why is your man running outside the bedroom ass naked

Giggling as you see him comeback in and carrying the plastic bag of lettuce.

"Huh? What's that for?" You sit up and wrap the thin white blanket to your body.

"I lied. Well... we still going to have salads and all..." he is mumbling. "This should be over dinner... but... I could not help myself earlier so..."

"Mingyu... what is going on...?"

Laughing but still trying to pull a serious face. "It was true that an old lady sold me this but... as I was helping her she took the paper bag the came wit this... and I panicked." He sits down beside you. "I didn't want to put it in my jacket or pocket coz... it will be obvious... and when we walk and your cold you always put your hand in my jacket's pockst so..."

"Mingyu!" You grab his face and kissed him. To make him focus. "Just say it..." you are giggling now too.

"Okay..." a soft smile spreads to his lips. "I know... you may think... I'm still young and naive."

"No you're not..."

"Yeah but... still... anyways..." he nervously laughs. "Like I said... you are an amazing woman. Anyman who you choose to love will be the luckiest. And thankfully its me..." he then goes down to his one knee and pulls out a black box from the plastic of lettuce. "I said I didn't like what you did earlier... you looking down at yourself... but that does mean I hate you or mad at you for it... I just say that because I care.. I want you to feel... assured and happy." He opens the box and shows the most brightest ring you ever saw in your life. "If I have to always reassure you for the rest of our lives... I don't fucking care. I am up for it. I love you and I can't live a day without you." Pulling out the ring and taking your hand. "Please marry me... I will serve you and love you forever..."

You watch him put the ring on your finger.

"So...?" He looks at you with doe eyes

Letting go of the blanket covering your body, you launch yourself to him, making you guys fall on the floor. "I love you Kim Mingyu..." you say first before kissing him. "Forever is not a bad idea..." you kiss him again. "Of course I will accept."

"Sorry if I proposed to you after sex... at diner would've been fantastic"

"Don't say sorry... I do love your way..." you get up from embracing him. "It brings back to how we started."

He sits back up. "Right."

Then you stare at your ring. "Who could've guessed that... I will be marrying the guy I met and fucked at a friend's birthday?"

[howdeepthegrave]

Modern Agathario AU where Rio arrives a bit early to collect Agatha for their third ever date and Nicky, of all people, answers the door. Rio knew Agatha has a kid, but she was not quite prepared to meet him this soon.

"You Nick?" she finally asks.

"I am Nicky. You Rio who is gonna take my mama to the golfing?"

"Uh, minigolf, yeah."

Rio can feel this four year old judging her.

"I like your hat," Nicky says.

Rio adjusts her baseball cap and smiles.

"I like your scrunchie."

"I don't like haircuts," Nicky explains.

They just continue to stand there until Agatha appears at the top of the stairs.

"Nicholas Andrew Harkness! You know you're not allowed to answer the door on your own!"

"Mama, it's only Rio."

Agatha rushes down the stairs and pulls Nicky back, smiling at Rio.

"The sitter's not doing such a good job of sitting, I guess."

"'S okay by me. Sorry if I got here too early or..."

"No, no, it's fine, come in."

There's a teenaged boy flopped on the sofa, frantically texting as tears pour down his face. Agatha looks livid.

"William, you're here to watch Nicky!"

"I... Oh, hey Ms. Vidal."

"Hey, William. You studied up for that quiz next Tuesday?"

"Uh, yeah. I just... I've been having a rough week. Eddie and I had a fight."

Agatha goes and collects her purse and pulls out a roll of cash.

"William, just go home, okay? Here, that's everything for tonight, but only because I'm a sucker for a sad kid whose eyeliner is running."

William takes the cash and bolts, leaving Agatha, Rio, and Nicky standing in the living room.

"I pro'ly can babysit myself, Mama," Nicky says. "I will watch good cartoons only."

Agatha actually laughs at that and bends down to pick her son up onto her hip.

"Rio, I'm sorry, looks like we'll have to reschedule..."

"Couldn't we just take Nicky with us?" Rio shrugs. "It's minigolf. He might enjoy it."

Agatha looks shocked.

"You'd... You'd be okay with that?"

"Sure. So long as you are."

So they all go out to minigolf together. They have a pretty great time, they eat a little junk food, which Nicky LOVES because Mama almost never lets him have junk food, and when Nicky is tired at the end of the evening, it's Rio who carries him back to the car because, as Nicky says, "You're taller than Mama, so we'll get there faster."

When they get back to Agatha's, Rio walks with them to the door and steps inside to wait while Agatha struggles a sleeping Nicky into pajamas and puts him to bed. Agatha comes back down to tell Rio good night and thank her for putting up with Nicky.

"It was a great night," Rio assures her, "and I hope we can do it all again sometime."

Most of Agatha and Rio's dates after that are just them, but occasionally Rio arranges something so Nicky can come along too. Sometimes it's minigolf again, but sometimes it's a museum or a walk in the park or any number of other fun family activities.

When Rio decides to propose a little over a year later, she talks to Nicky about it first, just to ask if he'll help. Agatha has made it clear if and when a proposal happens, she wants no big showy stuff. She just wants it to be like a normal day. So, Rio comes over one night to cook dinner for all of them, and she lets Nicky help her. Halfway through, she hands him something from her pocket.

"Go and take this to your mom and ask her what she thinks, mijo."

So Nicky takes the item to Agatha.

"Rio said to give this to you and you should say what you think of it, Mama."

Agatha takes whatever Nicky's handing her without really looking up from her book, but the moment she realizes it's a small velvet-covered box, her heart starts to race. She opens it, sees what's inside, and dispatches Nicky back to the kitchen with her reply.

"Rio, Mama says she'll take it. She says absolutely."

They get married that summer at their friend Jen's place in the Hamptons.

[assassin-artist]

okay, I'll post what I've got for Sindra now. Plus an alternate version for if she were a Viltrumite herself (: lore rambling below the cut

Calling her species 'Vottan'. They're a healer-based society of people with hollow bones, it makes them very fast but also very fragile. Big culture based around worshipping life and birth, which is why being a healer is such a high position of authority. Most Vottan become healers, but only a rare percentage of the people are born with healing magic. Sindra, having been born with the gift, was raised in something like a monastery to become a healer from a young age. They take a vow of silence when they reach adulthood, which is the same time they get their markings that deign them a full-fledged healer (the diamond on Sindra's forehead).

Their healer culture is very judgment free, i think. They believe that it's not their place to judge whether an individual 'deserves' to live or die for what they've done, only that if they are capable of healing, then they will heal. Their fragile physiology combined with their willingness to medically aid anyone who comes their way made it very easy for Viltrum to take their home planet and subjugate the people. Most healers are left to their own devices, but the rare few that are born with the gift of magic in their veins are taken to be personal Viltrumite healers on the Viltrum warships. Vottan lifespans on average are longer than humans, roughly expecting to live to ~150 years before dying of complications due to old age. However, those born with magic have a significantly increased life expectancy, expected to live somewhere around ~2,000 years before old age.

Taking inspiration from hummingbirds here when I say that I don't think they sleep at all - instead they go into a state of dormancy every few hours where their heart rate and metabolism is slowed significantly to conserve energy for a while.

hm.... that's all the lore for her species i've thought up at this point. Let me know if you have any questions (: Now I talk a little bit about her personal story..

I made her mainly to be a Conquest ship, because I like the idea of the big scary strong man having a fragile partner. Her people being subjugated by Viltrum was just the convenient excuse so I could say Sindra and Conquest have known each other for years before the events of Invincible even happen. I don't have a set age for her but I'm thinking at least over a century by now, so they've been buddies for around 50 years or so. Maybe. I'll do the math some other time, I'm just vibing rn. Conquest still doesn't get someone to talk to because his companion is silent, but, despite her inherent fragility and Conquest's inherent overwhelming strength, she has never been all that afraid of him. I think a species that worships life would have a more accepting view of death as well - it's to be avoided if possible, but not something you should fear and dread. Plus, I've talked before on my blog about how I don't think Conquest would actually struggle to be gentle, so I think it wouldn't be that difficult for them to become close. In fact, I dare say I think Conquest would be gentler with her than any of the other Viltrumites would be... i rotate them in my head. my silly aliens

I like the idea that she eventually finds her way to Earth before season 1 begins, but I don't really have a reason for why she left the Viltrumites just yet. Maaaaybe someone lost their cool and attacked her for whatever reason and she just flew away, never looking back? I'm not sure, I'll have to think more on that. I just like imagining her on Earth trying to learn how to get along with humans and interacting with the main cast of the show.. She really just goes where she's told to go and heals anyone she comes across, so she would be a great find for the GDA. I think she would really like Damien Darkblood (:

I think she would eventually break her vow of silence and begin speaking again, but I'm just not sure if it's while with the Viltrumites (her first words would be to Conquest for sure) or while she's on Earth...

that's all the rambling i have off the top of my head. im sure i'll have more soon enough o7

[ann1-wr1tes]

Personal Secretary~

Synopsis: You are Leon's personal secretary/assistant. But what happens when he notices that you're overworking yourself? He can't have that now can he?

Warnings: Slight Perv!Leon, smut, Leon being your boss

Word Count: 1,650

A/N: Okay here's one more old fic I found from the past so hope someone enjoys this lmao. I don't know if its good or not and frankly i'm too scared to read it so...

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Leon smirks to himself silently as he eyes you from across the room. Ever since you started working for him as his own, personal secretary…he couldn't get his eyes off of you. Then again, who could blame him really? What a sight he was blessed with everyday, getting to see you in tight, little pencil skirts, clean white button up shirts and nice high heels. You just looked amazing and honestly if having to do boring paperwork meant that he'd get to look at you all day, then he'd take the paperwork in mountains so long as he could have you around while he worked.

You on the other hand tried your very best to keep focused. She's constantly try to keep herself busy by organizing things, cleaning up Leon's desk, assisting him with paperwork or even doing the simple things such as getting him a cup of coffee or lunch.

Even then though, you'd always feel his bright blue eyes scanning your figure and it was enough to make your heart race.

Just like right now. You were busy sorting different documents and papers into the filing cabinet and you made the mistake of turning around to glance at Leon, but only to find him already looking at you. He sent a slick smile from across the room and you quickly spin your head back around and mentally scold yourself. Gosh this man was going to be the death of you. How were you supposed to stay focused when he was looking at you like that?

As Leon sat behind his desk, eyeing a document in front of him, he couldn't help but smirk to himself as he had the image of your flustered face ingrained in his mind. He just loved to get reactions out of you. The way your cheeks flushed, your eyes would suddenly widen and you'd try your best to busy yourself again and act like nothing happened but Leon wasn't stupid and dammit! He found you to be excruciatingly adorable. And boy if his ego didn't rise another notch after every time you blushed or looked flustered.

You sighed to yourself softly as your fingers ran over the files. You were searching for a certain letter in particular and it was taking forever. Then again, in your defense the filing cabinet was huge and stuffed full of different documents and important papers. Plus who knows the last time someone actually bothered to go and try to organize everything like you were now.

Leon glances up at you and he watches as you seem to struggle to find the correct spot for the files. Gosh he was going crazy. You just looked so perfect, so pretty. The way the skirt hugged your hips and how your white, button up shirt seemed to really show off your chest….it almost made his head spin.

You grumble to yourself as you finally find the spot you were looking for but suddenly you hear the door to Leon's office click and you look over to find Leon locking the door. He shoots you a simple smile and walks over with a few strides. Each step of his, you could hear against the carpeted floor and it almost made shivers go down your spine.

You watch him curiously as he stops right behind you and glances at your hands that are still holding the files that you are trying to sort.

"Jeez Sweetheart, you've got a lot of paperwork to sort…" Leon mutters against your ear. His hands close around you, caging you against the filing cabinet as his chest presses up against your back slightly.

"T-Tell me about it…" you mutter. You dare not look at Leon right now with how hot your cheeks are feeling. But he can't judge you! What does he expect you not to blush when he's so close like this? You can even feel his breath lightly fan over your neck as he watches you search some more through the cabinet.

"I think it's time for a break, Sweetheart.~" He suggests.

You scoff and ignore him, rummaging some more through the filing cabinet until suddenly you feel a pair of warm lips kiss the sensitive spot of your neck and your breath hitches. Leon chuckles lightly in response and continues to press more light kisses to your neck.

"Did I ever tell you how amazing you look in these cute little outfits of yours?" Leon huskily whispers. This time chills do run down your spine. His kisses slowly start to get harsher as he lips press against your sensitive skin which causes pink marks to blossom underneath your skin.

"Leon…what are you doing?" you shakily ask as you exhale through your nose. Leon smiles and his hands plant themselves on your hips.

"What do you mean?" He asks. You roll your eyes at his fake innocence. You knew what he was doing and while it was risky, you couldn't stop it. Not when he looked so handsome in that suit he was wearing. You had never seen anything that could look better than Leon in a suit.

"You know what you're doing…" you murmur, turning your head to look at him. Leon looks at you amused and he slowly runs his finger along one side of your neck before planting another sweet kiss there. His lips slowly leave your neck and soon hes gently grasping your chin and turning your head to face him so he press his lips to yours.

He deepens the kiss quickly, pressing your body closer to the cabinet. You feel yourself becoming dizzy from the intensity and you wrap your arms loosely around Leon's shoulders as you kiss him back. Soon he starts nibbling lightly on your lower lip causing you to moan slightly before opening your mouth wider to accept his tongue into your mouth. You groan when he pushes deeper into the kiss. His hands tighten their grip on your waist and eventually he hoists you up by your thighs and has your back uncomfortably pressed against the filing cabinet.

Your legs lock around his waist as he moves to place open mouthed kisses over your neck. You could feel his growing bulge and it caused shivers to run down your spine. Suddenly Leon breaks away as he pulls at the fabric of your skirt. He tugs your skirt up, revealing your underwear that has a little wet patch form your arousal.

Your stomach drops when you see his hand glide under your panties, rubbing his thumb over your clit and you can't help but squirm a bit.

"Wet already? I've barely even touched you…" he whispers teasingly against your ear.

You whimper and pull at his tie. "P-Please Leon…." Leon hums in response and caresses your cheek lightly.

"Please what?" he inquires, looking you deeply in the eye. Your breath hitches and you let out a soft moan.

"Mmm..I need you….please…" you whimper. Gosh you were embarrassed. You were acting so needy..but then again you really did need Leon.

"You're gonna have to specify, honey." he coos at you. You pout and try to avoid his gaze but he grabs your chin and forces you to face him.

"Go on sweetheart, tell me what you want. I want to hear it." He purrs.

"Now that's a good girl." he praises you in a low voice and he places another soft kiss on your forehead.

You can feel his hard cock straining against his pants and god you wanted him so badly.

"Fuck me….please, I need you…" you plead and then realize what you just said when you see Leon chuckle lowly, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

His hands move up to unbutton his pants and he shoves them down far enough to where he can fully free himself from his boxers. You can feel your whole face heating up as you watch his cock slap against his stomach and it took your breath away.

He smirks as he sees your flushed face, watching how you lick your lips hungrily. He leans down to grab your hips and hold them in place while you keep your legs wrapped around his waist.

"You know you're so damn gorgeous, right?" Leon whispers softly against your ear. Before you can respond a moan is ripped from your throat as you feel his cock stretch you out fully. It made your back arch into him and you had to grip his shoulders as he bottomed out inside you.

"Such a good girl for me…" he groans as he starts to roll his hips at a slow, torturous pace. He wanted to make sure you could feel every part of him and you sure could. You swore you saw stars as you felt him thrust deeper and deeper, almost hitting your cervix as you felt the cabinet behind you shake a little.

"Oh my God!" you whine as you feel your walls clenching tightly around Leon as he keeps pounding into you.

"So sensitive aren't we Babydoll?~" he teases you. You let out a gasp as he slams into you harshly and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Shhh, don't want anyone else to hear us now do we?" he asks you. He starts moving faster and soon you feel your orgasm building up and you bite down onto your lower lip as you start shaking. Your walls squeeze around his member tightly and you can see the pleasure flash across his face as he moans into your neck, trying to muffle the sound.

You clamp a hand over your mouth as both you and Leon can hear footsteps on the other side of the door. Your eyes widen and you look at Leon who is still rolling his hips in and out of you without a care.

"Lets see if you can stay quiet…" Leon growls playfully.

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 3 - The Figure Painter

Chapter Summary - Y/N visits a childhood friend to go over Seonghwa's odd invitation.

Series Masterlist

"And then he gave you a contract... Like from Fifty Shades of Gray?"

"I told you it's not a contract, he said it was an invitation."

"Honey, it literally gives you a place to sign at the bottom."

After Seonghwa had given me the envelope and left, I wasted no time in rushing over to my friend, Mia's, house to tell her everything. Mia and I had known each other since we were seven years old, hanging off of each other like leeches since. Her family was rich too, but unlike mine, they supported her artistic endeavors.

She was a painter, specializing in figure paintings and realism, and was also my voice of reason.

"I seriously don't know what to do," I whine, my head resting on her kitchen countertop.

"Well, what does it say? Like what does he want you to do?" She asks, her fingers twirling a teaspoon around her tea cup.

I glance down at the papers in front of me. So many rules were listed I struggled to even wrap my head around it.

"He wants me to move into their home," I say.

"Their home?" Mia clarifies. "As in other people?"

"I guess so?" I clear my throat as I continue. "I can remain as a dancer for the society as long as I don't practice for any longer than I need to be."

"Well, at least they're offering you some freedom." She mumbles sarcastically, taking a sip of her tea.

"Mia come on!" I cry out rather dramatically.

"I feel like there isn't much up for discussion here? Yes, it's weird and borderline controlling but when was the last time something exciting like this happened in your life?" She argues.

"I don't want to be controlled, Mia. This whole thing, it's just way above my pay grade. I had enough of it living with my parents, I don't need it in a romantic relationship too!" I point out. She lets out a sigh, nodding in understanding.

"You're right, I'm sorry." Mia runs a hand through her hair. "Okay, let's try a different approach. What things in there benefit you?"

"Uhm, I get to live in a big ass mansion free of charge," I say, my finger hovering over the bullet point. It sure would be better than the cheap studio apartment I live in now.

"You can never go wrong with a big ass mansion." She quips before I continue.

"It says... I have to be willing to, share myself?" I tilt my head with furrowed eyebrows.

"Oh, don't tell me they're the type to want a girl to homey hop." She seethes, leaning over the counter to read the paper. "Oh god, they are!" She exclaims.

"Just because you're monogamous doesn't mean you can judge!" I scold.

"I'm not judging, I'm cringing 'cause it's not for me." She says defensively. "If you're into that, I won't judge."

"Sure you won't."

"I might make fun of you a little, but you know I'll get over it!" She laughs. "Besides it's a bonus if they're all cute. I looked up Seonghwa and that Hongjoong guy and woo!" She whistles.

"Poor Mark." I tease, she gasps. "Listen, I don't know if I'm up for that either. I mean I don't even know who the others are, for all I know there could be a serial killer among them."

"Then call him." She states. "Call him and demand him to rewrite it on your terms."

"Would that work?" I ask, placing the papers back into a neat pile.

"He's a businessman, right? Of course, it would! Hell, you might even get to meet the others if you play your cards right." She says confidently. "You like this guy right?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Then fight for your own morals and boundaries, and if he doesn't accept that then move on." She says, moving over slightly to place her mug in the sink. "And if they try something, Mark and I will come over and beat them up for you."

"You and I both know Mark Lee is not going to beat anyone up." I laugh causing her to let out a snort.

"You're right, he could yap their ears off and give us time to escape the country though." She jokes, a wide grin spreading across her face.

I glance back down at the documents, genuinely contemplating for a moment. I hated the idea of being controlled by anyone again, let alone a bunch of men who, aside from 1, I have never had a conversation with in my life. But on top of that, it would be really nice to stay somewhere that didn't charge me almost my entire weekly pay for rent.

Plus Seonghwa was really good-looking, but was I really going to risk my freedom just because a cute guy gave me a second of his time? Mia was right, I needed to call him and set up some kind of meeting and get this document altered to my liking also, not just theirs.

"You're doing that thing again." Mia's voice cuts me out of my thoughts. "You know it's creepy when you stare off into space like that."

"Sorry, was just thinking about everything," I say softly, stuffing the document back into the envelope it came in.

"It's a lot, I know, but once you put your foot down like I know you can it'll all even out. You'll see." Mia was often right about these things, then again she was always the one to come up with the ideas that would get us into trouble growing up. I trusted her with things like this because I knew it would never leave the two of us, but trusting her to convince me to do something that could lead to me signing my life away? I was going to be a little more cautious of that.

"I should probably go, I got another show tonight," I say, hopping off of the seat I was perched on.

"Oh! I'm coming to the show next Monday! Don't mess up for me okay?" She says, skipping around the counter to give me a quick hug before I leave.

"Of course I won't, you're my lucky charm." I joke, pulling away and waving. She waves back, knowing I could find my way out.

I contemplated calling Seonghwa as I walked through the city streets. I let out an annoyed huff at the constant tug-of-war going on in my head. My finger hovered over the call button as I stared down at his contact. He'd probably show up tonight, but did I really want to decline his initial offer in person?

Without thinking I pressed call, holding my phone up to my ear as I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. I felt a sick feeling of nerves in my stomach, the same feeling I felt before I went out on stage.

It rings 4 times before he picks up.

"I thought you'd think about it a while longer." He states, his voice rough. I take a deep breath before I speak.

"I'm declining your 'invitation'," I stated, making sure my voice sounded defiant.

"What?" He asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"You heard me. This... Contract is far too controlling for my liking and I refuse to subject myself to signing my life away for a man who only graced me with his presence last night." I say, earning some looks from passersby.

"Doll-"

"I'm not done! Look, I like you. But the only way this is happening is if we rewrite this to include my own terms. And I want whoever the hell you expect me to share myself with to be there also. No way in hell am I agreeing to something like that without even knowing what they look like." I say, rather rushed. Silence follows, and I look at my phone screen for a moment to make sure the phone call didn't end. As I placed the phone back to my ear I heard laughter.

"My, I really underestimated you didn't I?" Seonghwa chuckles. "A real firecracker you are, so unassuming up until now." I could feel his grin through the screen, and it made my blood boil.

"If you're going to waste my time-"

"Hold on a second, Doll." He says, his voice still laced with amusement. "I'll organize a dinner, how does that sound? You, me, and the others who helped write the original contract. That way you can meet everyone and get your boundaries heard."

I blinked in surprise at his offer. Was it really that easy? "You're serious?"

"Of course I am! Honestly, it's refreshing to talk to someone as pretty as you about business exchanges." He chuckles. "You have a show tonight, yes? Are you free Saturday night?"

I clear my throat. "Uhm, yeah?"

"Excellent, I'll send you the details tonight with your Gardenias." He says, hanging up before I can get another word in.

I gape at the phone, staring at it as I stand frozen in the middle of the street. I look around for a moment before continuing on my way.

I had a sinking feeling that this dinner was not going to be as easy as he made it seem. The others were most definitely businessmen also, co-owners of ATZ Corp. Me, a broke ballerina versus 8 businessmen on their own turf.

Pray for me.

[thedivineden]

Thin Ice

Summer Olympics Collab w/ @tetzoro

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: smut

words: 5k+

notes: dubcon, enemies, breeding, jujitsu kaisen au!figure skaters, slight mentions of sexual harassment from Gojo, obsession, controlling behaviors, jealousy, drugging, peer pressure, slight manipulation,

AN: I had so much fun writing this, you should see the notes I scribbled at work because we’re not allowed to have our phones! Thank you so much @tetzoro for allowing me to be apart of this lovely event. ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊

You and Gojo Satoru have been competing against each other since the day you were placed in the same class at nine years old. He was favored due to his family standing within the figure skating community but you had raw, unfiltered talent which shook him and his family to their core. Despite all your talent, he’s managed to win almost every single competition. You’d bet big money that it had to do with his family status but you don’t upset the balance until you’re both picked for the Olympics.

And boy were you fuming. “I ALONE have went through hell and back to be where I am whereas he gets placed just because of his family name! It’s preposterous Shoko!” you’ve been ranting to your coach for an hour about the competition; how you didn’t believe that he deserved to be here and wish you didn’t have to compete along side him. “That spoiled brat doesn’t have a INCH of talent in his bones even if it was injected with a needle!”

“Aw do you really hate me that much? I thought we were friends?” You turn to the door to see the lanky white haired man standing against its frame smiling down at you. “Friends? Satoru please, you know I never enjoyed your company now leave. I’m having a discussion with MY coach or are you wanting to take her away from me too?” Shoko stifled a small laugh and stood up. “Gojo, don’t stress my prodigy out. What do you want?”

Gojo never took his eyes off of you; he saw your annoyance as just another game. You roll your eyes and say, "Well, I was just coming to check on my favorite figure skater but I don't think she was to see me." Despite your request to go, Gojo slips into your room and envelops you in his arms. "I'll break all ten of your toes in five seconds if you don't get off of me."

Gojo chuckles at what you've said because he adores your fierce personality and is confident that you will follow through. You lost a tournament at 15 after he "jokingly" slapped your behind for taking first place and your only recourse was to throw your ice skate at him. His parents complained to the judges and got you disqualified.

You were more concerned about scuffing your brand-new Eden Piano ice skates than you were about the blade nearly striking him. You could feel his breath on your ear as he said, "Aw, must you struggle so much, you know you love it, and I know you love me, why don't we meet up later? My room?” You're furious now and shove him away from you. You're about to charge at him when Shoko, sporting her signature side grin, stands in between the two of you.

“Shall we maintain the calm? Alright, sweetie?” The man behind her laughs audibly, saying, "Yeah, sweetie! Let's maintain harmony.” Even though you were angry, you wouldn't allow him or anybody else to sour your mood. "Shoko, you're right; I won't have to deal with him for very long. After the Olympics, I'm heading to Brazil, and I have no intention of returning to Tokyo.” That touched a nerve; your coach's gasp indicates to Gojo that she was equally clueless. You had no idea that your remark had the man fuming.

You? Leaving? The young man finds just such idea absurd. Ever since he first saw you in class, you have been everything to him. You were not impressed with Gojo's antics, even if he is accustomed to getting his way. No matter how many pranks and tricks he performed or how many gifts he put in your locker, his efforts were consistently disregarded.

The man continued to essentially harass you every day despite your denial. He would make harsh remarks about your body, clearly taking care to point out that you are curvier than all the other figure skaters in the class or that your ass is "so massive that you might tip over," which would ultimately be the undoing of you. You could not care less, and all he wanted was the thrill of having your undivided attention.

Gojo needed and desired you more than anything else, and this only made his fixation worse. Without saying anything more, the young man left the room, leaving Shoko to ask all the relevant questions and provide the information later. He's going to make sure that you remember him forever.

It took hours for the two of you to be back together again. You were seated close to each other for the opening ceremony. The opening ceremony typically features the entrances of the head of state or other official of the host nation as well as the president of the International Olympic Committee. The national anthem and flag are then raised and played. Then the tournament started.

You have a strong passion for figure skating, and when you're on the ice, it feels remote. Nothing could distract you from your quest for excellence in each trick, flip, and turn. Everyone in the stadium is quiet, appreciating your stunning appearance and captivating performance. Your candid feelings convey a tale of bereavement.

You jump off the backward outside edge on one foot, using your toe pick to help you get airborne, then use your other leg to reach across your body and back to pick into the ice. Gojo is an enormous admirer of your performances and would do anything to spend time on the ice with you.

You were actually quite flexible, as required by the biellmann spin. You spin on one foot, stretching the other leg behind you and above your head to make the shape of a teardrop, and Gojo is staring at you in astonishment. You release your leg and step off the ice again. You can turn the odds in your favor with just your pure resolve.

You release everything forward, shift your entire weight on your takeoff left leg, raise your arms, and release your right leg back at the same moment of takeoff. At first, it looks like a typical axel leap, but in order to complete the trick, you have to make four and a half rotations in the air. When you land perfect, everyone in the stadium goes crazy. Gojo was aware of the announcers' adoration for your flawless quadruple axel.

Interviewers are waiting in line to chat with Japan's figure skating prodigy as soon as you step off the ice. Gojo heard all of the inquiries: "Wow, it was incredible! "How long have you been practicing your quadruple axel?" "How long have you been training?" and "Do you ever see yourself performing routines in pairs with?" You were brisk even off the rink, graciously and enthusiastically responding to every inquiry.

Gojo is the next to go, but not before he interacts with you. "Looks like you're going for the gold, but we all know who's really taking it home." Your smile quickly disappears and is replaced by a frown. "If you already know you're the winner why are you trying so hard to convince yourself that I'm not?" You grin again and walk past the gaunt man before he can respond, heading toward Shoko.

God, you made him so hard.

Despite what you previously stated, Gojo is without a doubt the greatest for Japan, and his mesmerizing methods are hard to ignore. Every now and then, Gojo stretches out his palm and takes a tiny step forward, sliding across the icy rink with effortless ease. Not long after he picks up speed, he throws his right leg over his head and balances on his left foot. He spread his arms, almost making a T or possibly a K. Gojo never fails to demonstrate to his own nation and the rest of the world that he was a showman in addition to a prodigy.

He swung his body in fluid motions, bending his knees. He was able to move down the rink more quickly and farther as soon as both of his skates were facing in the same direction and parallel to one another. Watch as the man launches himself and lands on the back outside edge of the opposing foot. You see him use his free leg to assist with the takeoff. Gojo starts off across the rink once more; he has the appearance of a swan on a quest. Despite his solemn expression, he manages to pique the audience's interest by molding his face to suit his intended message.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a tap from another skater. "Hi!"You're — correct? The most beautiful man you have ever seen is revealed when you turn around. "Yes I am and you are?" Your smile was enough to break any man's heart, and it certainly broke Gojo's. His eyes caught you talking to the low-level figure skater during his back bend. To get your attention, Gojo slowly lifts his body upward while making sure to circle close to you.

You paid no attention to anything, not even when the crowd chanted his name. He saw you gazing passionately at the man, touching him, and grinning during his performance. He'll make sure that everyone is aware of your connection. Interviewers swarm Gojo as he emerges from the ice, asking him questions about the tournament, his emotions, whether he predicted Japan would win, and what he loves best about the Olympics.

He took great pleasure in watching you, even though you were hostile toward you. He enjoys watching you on the ice and knows that all of these eyes will be able to see and appreciate your beauty and brilliance, even if that's not a suitable answer to the question. “I had fun watching my girlfriend accomplish a quadruple axel on the ice, going above and beyond the norm!” The interviewers are going crazy over the exclusive insider information that Japan's Olympic candidates are a couple! “I'm very proud of her!”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Could you two come on my show to give more information about your relationship and experience in the competitive skating world?”

“Do you plan on marrying her?”

Gojo has a broad smile, but it widens when he notices you approaching from the corner of his eye. He ensured that there would be enough disturbance to draw in people from a 50-mile radius. He quickly puts his arm around your waist to hold you close once you are arms length apart.

He undoubtedly knows that you are extremely conscious of your appearance and would never intentionally make a fool of yourself in front of thousands of people. "Hello my darling, don't you want to tell them about how our love blossomed?" Even though you're terrified, you swiftly avert the interviewers' attention to the man by saying that he always tells story better than you. He makes fun of you and tells a made-up tale of jealousy, hate, and love. Gojo lets the interviewer know that you two are deeply in love, plan to be married, and want to start a family.

He knows when you get uncomfortable in his arms and knows it's time to finish the interview and express gratitude for the interviewers' time. Curses fly from your mouths towards Gojo the moment you two are out of earshot. You attempt to escape his hold, but it's firm and powerful, and he won't let go until he proves that you are his.

Because he would be pressed for time, he had everything set up before the competition day. After his performance, he asked to have a car ready for him so he could take you to the Olympic village, to his room, and finally to his bed. You sound even more enraged now that you're practically yelling at him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why in the hell would you tell them that?”

"I just want you to realize how much I adore you, now hush and enjoy." Gojo hurries you into the back of the tinted Range Rover, entering on the left side. He signals the driver to shorten the route and closes the partition — his hand finds contact too high on your thigh and his look is exceedingly strained. "I'm not your enemy but you treat me like one, why?"

You chuckle and roll your eyes at his assertion, "You've been tormenting me since we were seven, and you think I have no reason to want you away from me?" When you look at him, his expression is one of perplexity. Torment? I used to put gifts in your locker, and from what I remember, you threw them out." Your face flushed from the accusation. "Well, I'd have kept them if you hadn't said anything about my physique. "Everyday, you said something demeaning which encouraged other people to say hurtful things. Now you all are in my shadow, I’m winning the gold ."

You turned to face Gojo and said this with the biggest smile on your face, but as soon as you saw the tear streaming down his hot cheeks, your smile fades. "What's wrong, you?" Even with a hint of worry in your voice, your countenance suggests dissatisfaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize, but I'd like another chance." In all honesty, Gojo doesn't give a damn about earning your favor. All he wants is what any man would want.

To win.

Gojo makes sure to be the ultimate gentleman as he ushers you out promptly as the car arrives at the village. When he offers his hand to help you out of the car and opens the compound door for you, he can see you're nervous and cautious because you pause. To be honest, you felt anxious at every turn, and when Gojo came up behind you, his arm clasped tightly around your waist. You didn't know why you two were at the compound without your coaches, or what he wanted, but you weren't enjoying it.

When he arrives at his room, he stops at the entrance and looks at you intently. "I set everything up for you because I want you to know how special you've been to me," he says as he opens the door. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla greets you, along with the sight of candles and petals scattered on the corridor floor. Gojo releases his hold on you as his hand travels to your lower back and softly presses you inside his room.

Although your instincts are going haywire, the environment appears in the opposite way. When you step fully into his room the corridor floor is only the tip of the iceberg. Gojo, rather, the person he hired to arrange the space, created a lavish pallet on the floor and surrounded it with a heart made of flowers. accompanied by a bouquet of flowers and a selection of finger appetizers. There are images of you from previous competitions, including ones where you lost, hanging on the walls with the term winner printed on them.

"Do you Iike it?" The pleasure on his face is palpable. In a normal situation, you would do anything to erase Gojo Satoru’s smile, but right now, it would be bittersweet. The amount of work he put in is both sweet and a little alarming, given that several of the images on display were taken when he was alone himself in the booth. You feel the silence begin to take on an unsettling note, so you turn to nod your head at the man, a small grin on your lips.

“Sit down, try the foods. I’ll be back with drinks!” Gojo disappears down the corridor and out the room door leaving you and your rapid heart alone. Thoughts were swirling in your head.

You could just leave.

What does all of this mean? I mean he did give you gifts when you were kids but you just chalked it up to him trying to buy you and throw you off your game.

Does he actually like you? Could it have been your announcement about you leaving?

You sit down on the pallet allowing your weak legs to rest and distract yourself with the white chocolate covered strawberries. Halfway through the patch and uncontrollable anxiety, Gojo comes in with a drink tray with two bottles of martell cognac l'or de jean and two glasses. “I see you enjoyed the strawberries, I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch” he places the tray on the pallet and sits extremely close to you.

You take a seat on the pallet, allowing your ailing legs to relax, and use the strawberries coated in white chocolate as a distraction. Gojo enters with a drink tray with two glasses and two bottles of Martell Cognac L'Or de Jean halfway through the patch and uncontrollably anxiousness. He lays the tray on the pallet and sits quite close to you, saying, "I see you enjoyed the strawberries. I made the beef yakitori but you have to try it with the miso ranch." He picks up a piece of beef and dips half of it in the homemade ranch.

“Open” you look at the man as if he grew three head and laugh. You try to take the meat, saying, "I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself," but Gojo pulls his hand back and gives you a stern look. Without a second thought you open your mouth to allow the man to feed you. Not only did you let him feed you once but the whole plate of beef along with the miso ranch.

Surprisingly, the beef is really soft, and when mixed with the miso ranch, it is exquisite. Gojo fed you the trend of white meal options, asking you what you thought of whatever he served you next and ensuring you finished at least half. You attribute it to his big ego, and he is still making whatever this is about himself, albeit in a minor way.

You begin to feel lighter, and your discussion with him has become comfortable, flirtatious even. Only when he places his hand on your thigh does your body react.

Your face is now hot, your mind is muddled, and his hand rubbing your thighs makes you want him to move his hand up higher under your skirt. You clear your throat and remind yourself who you’re with. "So, why did you actually do this? I didn't expect Gojo Satoru to be romantic” he hasn't taken his gaze away from you, but appears to be getting closer.

“Because you’re leaving and I know I won’t be able to stop you but I want to give you something to think about while you’re 17 thousands miles away.” It's the first time you've truly appreciated his appearance; he has subtle muscular physique. His lips appear smooth and plump, while his jawline is sharp. And his eyes? Women who testified about losing themselves in his gaze weren’t lying.

As your stare deepens, Gojo notices and seizes the opportunity to slide his hand up your leg and under your skirt. You pretend not to notice the precarious situation you've placed yourself in. Truthfully, all you want is for him to be beneath your skirt, to slide your panties to the side, and finger fuck you. Despite your increased heart rate and anxiety you don't stop him.

"Strip for me, princess," and your body becomes frigid instantly, making you appear almost ashamed. His eyes narrow as he leans in to whisper to you how much he wants you, how amazing you are, how he put this whole thing up for you, and how he begs you not to waste this lovely night. “You’re the one who let me put your hand up your skirt, don’t you want it?” You started to stammer and your pussy's heartbeat is becoming unbearable, but are you going to let this man defile you after he has attempted to humiliate you and make you feel inferior?

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs at your apprehension He starts to stand up, but your hand catches his arm and stops him instantly. "No, I think I want—" Before you can even finish speaking, Gojo covers you with his lips and hands. His thin fingers are hurrying through your clothing, admiring every inch of your body and snapping a mental image of your exposed breasts and pussy. His touch is light but frenzied and every kiss feels like it’s scorching your skin leaving an imprint on you.

Your body reacts beautifully to him which makes him hungry for you. Gojo is above you, staring down at you as you lie flat beneath him. Your gaze is locked on him, as though you're trying to assert your power and take charge of the circumstance in an effort to look less desperate and eager. He smiles and ask how much do you want it— with a cunning look on your face, you glare at him and repeat his question. The young man chuckles at you and pushes your legs apart by swiping his palm behind them.

Once your legs are spread, Gojo places his face close to your pussy, basking in its magnificence. "Is all of this for me?" He says before swiping his tongue through your slit. Your legs snap without warning, but his grip keeps you immobile. He revels in your flavor, the way your body heats up, and the way you try to hide your pleasure in your . This time, he didn't want to come up for air; he wanted to be buried in your wetness and hypnotized by your moans.

Your skin feels as like it is being scorched by every kiss and lick to your clit and hole. Gojo commands you to hold your legs up so he can stick two fingers into your dripping hole and curls them to give you the most ecstasy possible. He may be selfish, but he's definitely not when it comes to pleasure. You abandon your position to position your legs on his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his snow-white hair.

"Gojo~ I need- my head..I can't," you say as your legs start to tremble and your eyesight becomes white from the pleasure that has been building up. “You can take it princess, just hold on a little longer for me” he knows that he won’t stop until you've created a mess; you begin to urge the young man to stop so you can regain your breath, but he doesn't hear you at all. He looks up at you with his bright blue eyes and hums at the sight.

You have a face of pure bliss, your eyes are closed and your hair is starting to stick to your sweat covered body. Gojo has an unrelenting pace — you could do nothing but focus on releasing yourself on his blessed fingers. All he can hear after coming up is your ragged breathing which forms a smile on his face. “I would ask you how everything was but I can see you thoroughly enjoyed yourself”

“You fuck like a virgin who just got some for the first time.” Gojo smile is immediately wiped off his face. You sit up on your elbows but he pushes you back down and pulls out his angry throbbing member. “A virgin huh? Let me lose my virginity with you then” without warning he slides himself through your gummy walls. Now hovering over you, Gojo uses his hands to push one leg up and bend the other to your side. His face is beet red and you can tell he’s enjoying himself more than you are right now.

You want to fuck him, you can’t deny how he has you begging for him to move, yet everything feels forced in your mind. As your face starts to well up with tears, he notices and bends in to get near to your ear. "Aw, don't cry, I'll make it all better, okay?" you nod your head, and he replies "good girl.”

As much as he loves to tease you, he can no longer control himself. Although he intentionally uses deep, languid strokes, the louder your moans the quicker he thrusts into you. He's been saying in your ear all along how gorgeous, wet, and tight you are. How ever since he met you, he's been dreaming of this and wants to be the one man who can win your approval.

You become this lustful shell of yourself that just wants him to consume you, and everything begins to feel like an out-of-body experience. You cry out in desperation for him to go deeper and use you till he is unable to. When he lets go of your legs, you encircle them around his torso while wrapping your arms around his neck forcing his face into your neck.

Your mind is foggy and all you can think about is using your legs to drive him inside of you and lock him in place as Gojo takes advantage of this opportunity to leave as many markings on your neck as possible, intensifying the pleasure you're experiencing.

The young man is breathless at your actions and he makes a mocking tone saying you’re a desperate slut aren’t you? how about I give you something to remember me by”. He lifts his body up untangling your legs from his torso placing both of his palms behind your knees to extend them to the sides of your head, you whine at the lack of contact but he calms your hunger by pounding into you. Even if the action took you by surprise you start to moan and praise the man for fucking you so well.

The young man is breathless at your actions and remarks in a mocking manner, "You're a desperate slut, aren't you?" What if I gave you something to carry me with you forever? You whine at the absence of contact as he lifts his body up and separates your legs from his torso, extending both of his palms behind your knees and push them to the sides of your head. Gojo slams into you stifling your hunger. Even if the action took you by surprise, you start to moan and praise him for fucking you so well.

His climax happens quickly when you mutter, "I-I may just stay for you," in a breathless manner. He closes his eyes in an effort to continue for as long as possible considering he feels his balls getting tight. He desires to relish each instant spent within you, the way your walls enclose him, the firmness with which your hands clasp his arms, and the volume with which you utter his name. Gojo leans back toward you abruptly, giving you a passionate kiss and cums inside of you. Though you're mentally panicking out about the lack of protection, you quickly forget about it as he releases your hold on your limbs and turns you onto your tummy, telling you to lift your ass.

"That fat ass has to get love too, princess, don't be shy." Your embarrassment is the only reason for the heat that is starting to appear on your face. He scoops you up by your hips and slams into you, rolling his eyes at your hesitancy. He is aware of your sensitivity, but you wouldn't be aware of Gojo's struggle to endure the pain in order to prolong this time. Your ass jiggling with each thrust has him spellbound, and as he slides out of you to slam into you again, his dick is drenched.

At this moment, your pussy is hurting and you're crying, but the heatbeat is becoming worse. Then it dawns on you that he is the only one who can stop the excruciating feeling underneath. Your mind is immediately repulsed by the idea. Gojo Saturo, of all people, fucking you senselessly is shameful, but the young man wipes that notion away as soon as it occurs by grabbing your hair with one hand and playing with your clit with the other around your waist.

You were too high and fucked out to realize that Gojo had taken the remote and turned on the television before seizing you. You were so overstimulated that your legs were trembling, and your tears were blurring your vision. "Gojo, please, I just can't handle it any longer." The teleprompters are now announcing the male single winners, “Just let them announce the winners pretty, if you win I’ll give you a present okay?”

Your body became heavy and you can feel your thighs become wet from your climax and hear his win being announced. All he could hear from you now is sobs begging him to give you a second, this is what he wants, for you to break down on his dick. It goes without saying that Gojo takes home the gold, he saw the camera move to his coach; who was very upset over his absence and had a stone-cold expression on his face.

He didn’t want his movements to be soured by the display and leans his head back in bliss. He’s beyond sensitive and doesn’t want you to see the tears coming out of his eyes to. Not only did he win literally but he’s achieving his life long goal of ruining you. His next words are winded, “make sure you come back in nine months for your next present princess.”

Leaning his head back in delight, he didn't want the event to ruin his moves. His sensitivity is immense, and he would prefer that you not see the tears welling up in his eyes. Not only has he literally won, his lifelong ambition to ruin you has been achieved. He continues, "Make sure you come back in nine months for your next present, princess," in a taunting manner.

You continue to sob as Gojo bullies your overworked cunt, cumming again coating your tantalizing walls in white. He lets you go and once you hit the pallet your world goes black. Waking up you notice the space around you is pitch black, you attempt to get up and survey the surroundings but your body is incredibly sore.

You sob on and on as Gojo abuses your overworked cunt and once more covers your alluring walls in white. After he lets you go, you strike the pallet, and everything goes dark. When you wake up, you discover that the space is pitch black. You want to stand up and take in your surroundings, but your body hurts so much. From your head to in between your legs, you look and feel around for a light or at least your phone.

You jump back and scream as soon as you feel warmth and skin when you reach to your left. Your head is throbbing and you try to recollect the last few hours, but when you discover you can't, it just makes you feel more anxious. You stand up despite the fact that your legs are weak and sprint to the closest corner to make yourself appear smaller. Your final recollection is leaving the ice and talking with the interviewers. Besides that, you don’t know where you are, why you’re naked and who that is laying next to you.

“Why are you yelling princess, it’s late.”

Princess? When you hear the voice, your blood starts to boil, and you start to remember what transpired. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! GOJO SATORU YOU WAKE THE FUCK UP AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED," the man gets out of the duvet and moves across the room to turn on the light. He can't stop laughing when he sees you in the corner. "Princess, get up. I got you something."

The man walks to the nearest dresser, throws you in the shorts and shirt, and walks to the bathroom, seemingly unaffected by your outcry. It's amazing how calm someone can be when he's clearly done you some harm. But you get dressed immediately, grab your stuff from his room, and run out of there. "You sick bastard, I hope you know that I'm going to the authorities." A flurry of flashes from microphones and cameras jammed against your face greets you as soon as you open the door.

Questions about why you were in Gojo's room, whether you were actually unwell or if you skipped the rest of the competition to spend time with him, and why you were leaving in his clothing suddenly burst out of the seemingly small gathering. The sensation of his arms enveloping you, his naked chest resting on your back, and his murmur in your ear, "Gold winning Olympian misses her win to share intimate time with her new boyfriend," further intensifies your feelings of overwhelm. “I believe that is a catchy headline.”

Gojo got what he wanted, attaching you to him forever, hopefully in more ways than one.

[afroditesdiary]

severed bonds.

pairing(s): james potter x sister!reader

IN WHICH...... james loses you.

warnings: james is a shitty brother, reader is depressed, reader has attempted to take her life (she survives), angst, please don't read this if you're in recovery I'm begging you, reader is lowkey like cecilia lisbon, did I mention angst?

part 2

james potter was officially the most horrible brother in the world.

it had all started last summer, when he had gone to your room to call you down for lunch, when he found you in your bathtub, wrists cut, the water an intense scarlet, you half-conscious, and the razor on the floor.

That day, at St. Mungo's, Euphemia had hugged you oh so tightly, burying her head in your hair, crying, and swearing that all of them loved you.

But James knew the reason why you tried to kill yourself.

It was him.

you and james used to be as thick as thieves ⎯ where one was, the other was there too. james, or jamie as you called him, was your older brother, 2 years to be exact. he protected you from the neighbourhood boys who made fun of you for your odd behaviour.

everyone said your head was always far away, maybe in the clouds. you made up imaginary friends and danced in the rain. you often chatted with the ghost in your basement. your family thought you would outgrow your behaviour, but you never did.

james adored you, weird or not. he promised you that you two would always stay together. but things don't always happen as they should.

when you finally joined hogwarts, you were sorted into slytherin. to say james was disappointed was an understatement. he was crushed.

from that day on, he decided not to speak to you. at all. he wasn't going to speak to someone who associated with blood purists.

never.

since then, you never saw james. you'd occasionally hear of him, maybe about some spectacular prank he pulled or from one of his many fangirls.

but he never spoke to you. even at home.

when you two were forced into such close proximity, he would simply act as cold as ice. you couldn't count the times he had lashed out at you for the smallest things. it was hell.

when sirius ran away from home and landed on your doorstep that friday, james welcomed him with open arms, and declared that he was his brother now.

ironic, the way he treated sirius so much better than he treated you. saving him a spot at the dining table ⎯ the spot that was always yours.

you wished he would take his own advice on not judging people based on their house or blood.

even though you were sorted into slytherin, you never lost your sweet disposition and whimsical personality.

this made you a target for bullies.

coupled with your brother's neglect, this was far too much for you to handle.

that is when you decided to take matters into your own hands.

the plan was simple, really. you were supposed to die quickly enough. or, at least, that was what the muggle book implied.

until he came in and started shaking your peaceful body.

you should've gone for the rope.

the therapist said that your attempt was more of a cry for help. that day, fleamont told you:

'you don't have to struggle alone, love. we're here for you.'

but they wouldn't understand. no one would.

--

james walked into your frilly room. you were on your bed, crossed-legged, reading an old tome. you were wearing that damn shorn wedding gown again. he wondered why you were so attached to it.

'hey,' he mumbled, looking embarrassed for once in his life.

'hi.'

he rubbed the back of his neck. 'look, I.... I wanted to say I'm sorry. for the way I treated you. um.... you can hang out with us, if you want.'

he said it so fast, you almost couldn't hear it. but the only sound was the sound of Euphemia setting the table, so you heard him loud and clear.

'that.... didn't sound genuine', you replied, your voice soft.

'well, what do you want me to do, huh? I can't think straight with all this guilt!'

aha.

he didn't actually feel guilty, he just wanted to be even with you and not have a reason for you to hate him.

'you think I did this to join your little group that hexes people?' you questioned, absolutely flabbergasted.

'you think..... that you deserve my forgiveness? after abandoning me? you think everything is fine because I failed at dying and went to a therapist?'

james remained quiet, his gaze not meeting yours.

'fuck you, james,' you said, walking out the door. 'fuck you.'

as james watched you walk out that door, he felt something inexplicable in his chest.

he realised that some things could be mended easily; by tape, a spell.

but your relationship was one of those rare things that would never fix nor heal.

he had lost you.

this was bad lol but I hope you enjoyed!

©afroditesdiary. do not even try to plagiarise, steal my work as your own, or use it for a c.ai bot. thank you.

[flowersandmiel]

I love Smitten

The popular dislike for Smitten makes me believe I'm right with my take that annoying characters will always be hated more than any actual villains. And it's also probably (unconsciously) because of the fact that he displays so many autistic traits, autistic traits that many people have hated me for in real life. Like:

-Strong sense of justice (believes himself to be the good guy, the narrator the bad guy, and antagonise him so much he calls him villain) And takes those beliefs as justification to kill us in the Damsel.

-Strong positive feelings that are considered inappropriate (and are too, tbh. but he doesn't see that. I'm referring to his exaggerated love for the Princess despite having just met her)(I'd argue it's also projection, while i don't think it's a symptom of autism, I suffered from that a LOT growing up. I would often judge people by what I believed them to be, what I needed them to be, instead of what they were)

-Self-agressive reaction to big emotions (when the Princess rejects us in the damsel, we then get HEA, or when we the decider kill the damsel and Smitten kills us in return)

-Genuinely believing he knows better than others, and it fueling toxic behavior (HEA)

-Might seem like a stretch, but weird speech pattern. He uses many 'old' words, has exaggerated intonation/tone, and talks really loud

-Also I could argue that he's got some cognitive rigidity. Sure he doesn't seem to when he kills us, but that happens out of big emotions, like I said before. But wanting to stay forever in the same place, instead of facing the world, reality, and responsibilities shows some rigidity that Hero doesn't show, for example. Or with The Burned Grey, where despite all clues leading to the conclusion that the Princess is dead, Smitten refuses to consider that it might be true. He believes something, and struggle greatly to change that belief.

Also I'm not saying people aren't allowed to find Smitten annoying, or aren't allowed to dislike him. But I'd advise that you don't judge his character like you'd judge a real life person, he's a character, forced into a specific context, AND, he is the reflection of our actions. I actually think it's also a reason why many people don't like him, I've always taken him as a way to tease the Player for trusting the Princess so easily despite the clues implying there is something wrong with her in chap 1

Not sure what my point really was with all this other than I love Smitten, and I'm always confused to hear he is heavily disliked for HEA, when like. It's my favourite chapter!!! xD Because of the subtext, because of what it represents, because of what it warns you about!!! The whole point is that it's mostly boring, that's the fcking point!! It wasn't an accident, it was clearly what they intended when they wrote that chapter! It's literally telling you: You cannot stay inside forever, you cannot redo the same things over and over, you cannot stall forever, you have to face your responsibilities, you have to open your eyes when you're in the dark, and realise you can leave. You should leave.

Smitten is in denial, that's the point, and that's why I love him

[disconnectedkat]

On Judging Older Rep By Today's Standards

This wall of text inspired by this take that bioware are pussies for not having an all-pan romance cast until Veilguard. This idea that all past representation is mediocre or bad because today's is better is very irksome. I'm irked.

To begin, a little history:

Bioware has been including queer romance in their games since the early 2000s. First in 2004, when they released Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. This game had a character you could recruit named Juhani. Juhani would become the first LGBTQ+ Star Wars character. She could be romanced by a female player character, though it basically amounted to a couple lines of dialogue. Why so little? Because it was 2004 and they practically had to sneak even that much in.

In 2007, Mass Effect 1 released. This game had arguably the 'safest' queer rep, an attractive woman kissing and having a fade-to-black implied sex scene with another attractive (alien) woman. A while later a mainstream media outlet (Fox News, you may have heard of them) ran a hit piece on the game. They ran the usual stuff, degenerate porn simulator, think of the children, etc. This was a big deal, as having a mainstream, large and popular (unfortunately) news channel targeting your game is not great for several reasons.

Keep in mind this was the, again, arguably the safest queer rep you could go for, and it still received that level of attack.

In 2009 Dragon Age: Origins released. Not much to say here, some time had passed and DA managed to avoid the targeted hate that Mass Effect received, despite having a bisexual man and woman as romantic options.

Mass Effect 2 is believed to have suffered the most from the Fox News debacle. Jack was originally planned as a pansexual character, and while I don't recall if the devs have stated exactly why that was cut, the obvious guess is they feared another round of attacks.

Alrighty, history recap over. Now to address the issue:

"They should've done it years ago." Well, they actually did with DA2 and it received a good amount of flak. Because that was 2010, and this is 2024. Representation is a social thing. It changes and grows as we do. In 2004 Juhani, with a minimal amount of actual content, became the first LGBT Star Wars character. You do what you can and try to push the envelope a little more each time. People struggled and fought for all that old rep you see as not good enough by today's standards.

"They bowed to the bigots because of money." Games, and all media, take money to create. They then need to make money to create more. There would be no Veilguard without the successes of previous games. And unfortunately, in the past that sometimes meant choosing your battles. Frustration is understandable, but misplaced.

None of this is to say that Bioware, (or any company or media, this post is just focusing on them) is beyond reproach as long as they're trying. There will always be things to criticise, and areas to improve, of course. But that isn't what I'm seeing here.

This to me is indicative of a common sentiment I've been seeing far too often in queer and leftist spaces recently, people judging older rep by today's standards and decrying it and it's creators without understanding the history.

[mcflymemes]

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

you must know... surely, you must know it was all for you.

you are too generous to trifle with me.

if your feelings are still what they were last april, tell me so at once.

my affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever.

you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love... i love you.

i never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

i have struggled in vein and i can bear it no longer.

these past months have been a torment.

i came to [location name] with the single object of seeing you. i had to see you.

are you too proud, [name]? and would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?

we're doing our best to find a fault in you.

i have fought against my better judgement, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance.

you really do love him, don't you?

please, do be seated.

this is a charming house.

all these things i am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.

how are you this evening, my dear?

may i have the next dance, [name]?

my brother gave it to me. he shouldn't have.

i wish you would not call me "my dear."

what endearments am i allowed?

what should i call you when i am cross?

i cannot believe that anyone can deserve you... but it appears i am overruled.

are you out of your senses? i thought you hated the man.

have you no objection other than your belief in my indifference?

i do like him. i love him.

only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony, which is why i will end up an old maid.

i love you. most ardently.

please do me the honor of accepting my hand.

i appreciate the struggle you have been through, and i am very sorry to have caused you pain.

believe me, it was unconsciously done.

are you... laughing at me?

i wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?

i thought that poetry was the food of love.

what do you recommend to encourage affection?

i'm very fond of walking.

i do not have the talent of conversing easily with people i have never met before.

perhaps you should take your aunt's advice and practice?

so this is your opinion of me. thank you for explaining it so fully.

those are the words of a gentleman.

from the first moment i met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize that you were the last man in the world i could ever be prevailed upon to marry.

forgive me for taking up so much of your time.

maybe it's that i find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me.

my good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.

i cannot tease you about that. what a shame, for i dearly love to laugh.

i will not and i certainly never shall.

you have insulted me in every possible way, and can now have nothing further to say.

i must ask you to leave immediately.

i have never been thus treated in my entire life.

i can admire you much better from here.

do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?

i prefer to be unsociable and taciturn.

i dare say you will find him amiable.

it would be most inconvenient since i have sworn to loathe him for all eternity.

no one would suspect your manners to be rehearsed.

i've come to tell you the news.

not all of us can afford to be romantic.

i've been so blind.

they are far too easy to judge.

i was wrong. i was entirely wrong about him.

i am well aquainted with you, [name], to know that i cannot alarm you, even should i wish it.

your skills in the art of matchmaking are positively occult.

i've never seen so many pretty girls in my life!

i do not deny it.

has the pig escaped again?

we are all fools in love.