#even if it may not be the best way to deal with it

[blakeswritingimagines]

Yandere Baby Daddy Logan Howlett

Wolverine, as a yandere, can be intense, fiercely protective, possessive, and obsessive in his love. He is not afraid to use violence and intimidation to keep the object of his affection close to him and ensure your safety. He may struggle with trust issues and jealousy, always on guard for any perceived threats. Despite his tough exterior, he deeply cares for you and can be incredibly loving and tender when the situation calls for it. However, he can be intimidating and controlling at times, driven by his intense emotions and a desire to keep what is "his."

As a yandere baby daddy, Wolverine is intensely protective and possessive of his family. He is fiercely devoted to you and his child, willing to go to great lengths to ensure your safety and happiness.

He'll go into "overprotective dad mode," keeping a close eye on you and the kid, and anyone who attempts to harm you or intrude upon your family life may face his wrath. However, beneath this fiercely protective exterior, he'll also display a softer side, doting on his child and expressing his love in his own unique, rugged way.

He might struggle with balancing his intense protectiveness with giving you space and independence. It's a tightrope walk between his natural instincts and respecting your autonomy. However, he'll always prioritize the safety and well-being of you and his child above all else.

He may still struggle with trust and jealousy issues even after the baby, but he recognizes the importance of being a responsible parent and will, in his own way, do everything he can to support and provide for his child. While his methods may be unconventional, he genuinely cares for his family and will always have your best interests at heart, even if he can be a bit intense at times.

But he'll also demand a lot of attention, becoming jealous and possessive when you seem to give affection to anyone or anything else, including the child. He'll struggle with balancing his protective nature with allowing his family to have time without him. Overall, he's fiercely protective and devoted but can be demanding and possessive in his role as a yandere baby daddy.

However, Wolverine's yandere tendencies could extend beyond just protection. He might become overly possessive and controlling, suspicious of anyone who interacts with you or the child, and might even exhibit signs of possessiveness toward the baby. He questions your loyalty or fidelity and may need reassurance and communication to ease these insecurities. His intense emotions could also lead to bouts of anger or aggression if he perceives a threat to your family's safety or happiness.

Oh, and be prepared for the occasional jealous outburst, especially if someone else gets a little too close to his family. Logan can get pretty territorial. But deep down, he's just a big softie who loves you and your kiddo more than anything in the world.

Logan might also experience moments of insecurity, especially given his rough past. He may question his ability to be a good father and partner, fearing that his violent tendencies could negatively impact your child. He'll struggle to balance his fierce protective instincts with the need to allow his child to grow and learn independently.

You might also notice an increased reliance on communication. Logan will likely start opening up more about his fears, insecurities, and past traumas as he navigates the complexities of fatherhood while dealing with his yandere tendencies.

Wolverine as a yandere baby daddy is also likely to have a strong sense of responsibility. He'll prioritize providing for and caring for his family, and might even go to extremes to ensure financial security. Additionally, he'll want to teach the kid his ways and values, being a rough-and-tumble father figure. He'll try to instill his survival and combat skills, as well as his sense of loyalty and bravery in his child.

Overall, expect a mix of intense loving and overprotectiveness from the feral baby daddy Wolverine.

With Logan as a yandere baby daddy, expect some occasional mood swings and bouts of grumpiness. He's not exactly a smooth talker or romantic, so don't expect flowery compliments or sweet gestures. Instead, his affection can manifest in gruff, rough, and even violent ways. He might express his love through acts of service, like protecting you and the kid from danger, rather than traditional romantic gestures.

[arcanarix]

Because You're a Big Deal - Satoru Gojo X Fem!Sorcerer Reader

Content Warnings: handjobs, body worship, exhibitionism, cockwarming, edging, cunnilingus, satoru might have a slight humliation/degradation kink, satoru is lowkey a creep and yandereish but not really, he also has no concept of personal space

Word Count: 10.1K

Summary: It’s common knowledge that Satoru Gojo is completely devoted to you. Why?—Because he makes it everyone’s, especially your, problem!

AO3

Since he’s been ripped out of his mother’s womb, life has bent to Satoru Gojo’s will. Everything falls into place as if the universe itself acknowledges that he’s destined for greatness. He barely has to lift a finger, and his achievements pile up, much to the irritation of literally everyone around him. It’s not just because he’s able to back up his skill—he makes sure it’s known that he’s the best sorcerer in the modern world, though—it’s also the way he exudes this untouchable self-assuredness which sets him apart from the rest. He’s practically a God walking among mere simpletons.

In a way, you find yourself pitying the guy at times. You can see how that kind of existence could be isolating. Being blessed—or cursed—with so much power from the get-go. He’s high above everyone else, like he’s observing the world from a higher vantage point—like a God in the sky or on another plane of reality. So to someone like you, who scrape by on sheer determination, ambition, and hard-headedness, Gojo’s life feels impossibly distant.

You’re not part of the elite three clans. You’re…just you, really. You’re a fledgling sorcerer who’s stumbled into this world all on accident, thanks to some Grade 2 curse spirits running amok on your college campus. Among the student and faculty body, you’re the only person you know who can see them, the only person who can react. It’s kind of made you an outcast there because you were afraid of stepping out of your dorm. That’s how you ended up here, after meeting Gojo and the others through chance. You’re training at Jujutsu Tech under Yaga and Gojo’s guidance, as a Grade 3 now—not that far along, but still a step above from where you began which was rock bottom. You still don’t compare to your peers at all in terms of experience.

But as much as you are grateful for Satoru Gojo and his small group of students, who have already rapidly become family to you, you can’t say you’re exactly pleased to be in his presence 99 percent of the time.

Why’s that, you wonder?

It’s simple, really.

From the moment he met you, he’s made it painfully clear that you have captured his attention. He’s obsessed, locked on you with such fervor it could decimate entire buildings with the same energy as a Hollow Purple. While it may have started as a shallow infatuation—you can’t even begin to imagine why—you know better than to let your guard down. With men like him, it’s easy to feel like a conquest, a prize to be won. From someone who’s so used to winning, without a doubt, he sees you as a challenge.

His favorite toy. You refuse to give him that satisfaction.

You don’t know how wrong you are about that assumption, though.

Because titles aside, he’s still just some dude who probably thinks more with his dick than with his brain.

You’re not sure why you in particular, either. Maybe others who’re more aware of his reputation might find it flattering, for the following reasons: he’s the strongest sorcerer of the modern times. That’s one. He’s rich as fuck. That’s two. He’s also stupidly handsome with those striking blue eyes of his and that lanky figure. That’s three.

You can’t find it in your core to give a flying fuck about it, though. Because beyond the superficial, he’s lacking in a lot of areas.

Everyone around you seems to agree.

Even now, as you sit in the classroom, waiting for him to show up—because of course, he’s late again as usual—you feel the tension building in your gut. You lean back, your chair creaking as a deep sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers idly trace the screen of your phone. Fushiguro’s gaze bores into your skull, with an all-knowing feeling. Is Gojo going to pull some bullshit today like he always does?

Your eyes roll, as you whip around to meet his gaze. As if silently communicating to him. Of course he is. Gojo always pulls something and everyone knows it, but especially Fushiguro. You have learned to expect it just as everyone else does.

The door swings open with a rush of air, and in strides Gojo, with that smug grin plastered across his face. He carries himself with a straight posture, hands stuffed into his pockets, acting like the world revolves around him because obviously it does. To him it does.

“Sorry for the wait! Since there’s not a lot of things we have to go over today before Megumi and the others are sent on yet another mission, I won’t keep you guys that long.”

Even without looking up, the weight of his gaze locks on you. You feel like you’re on a stage and those blinding blue eyes are the spotlight. When you do glance his way, you catch the faintest twitch of his lips. You’re not wearing your uniform today, and that seems to spark something in him. His blinding blue eyes, though hidden beneath his blindfold, must gleam with mischief. He’s definitely scheming.

“Well, most of you,” he finishes, that smirk of his widening.

You suppress a groan, already knowing where this is going and what thoughts might be running amok in that idiot brain of his, which only thinks with his dick in your presence. The outfit you opt to wear is nothing special—just a pair of shorts and a tank top—but for Gojo, it’s like a gift sent from the Heavens. He always twists the simplest actions of yours into a reason to give you a hard time.

As the briefing drones on, your eyes drift upward by mistake, sneaking a peek at him. What a bad move. Of course, he’s already looking at you, that grin still so wide his face is cracking. He raises his hand to his mouth—thrusting his tongue between two spread fingers—and your face flushes deep from embarrassment. Without thinking, your hands fly up to cover your face as you bite back a sigh.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Luckily, no one notices.

True to his word, the briefing is just that—brief. Itadori, Kugisaki, and Fushiguro head off, leaving you behind with Panda, Inumaki, and Maki for a few moments…at leaste, until they, too, make their hasty exit, leaving you alone.

Leaving you alone with that sad fuck of a man.

He slides up to you, peeling his blindfold up with a slender finger as he leans in closer than necessary. His breath fans against your forehead, and you have to resist the urge to step back lest you want to stir up more trouble for yourself, to push him out of your personal bubble. But Gojo doesn’t seem to have any concept of personal space. He never has. Those eyes of his, sharp, and blue like glaciers in the north, flicker across your face, down to the exposed skin of your shoulders and collarbone.

“Where’s your uniform?” he asks, his voice casual, with a playful note beneath it. There’s a layer of something else, though. His slender fingers trail along your arm, ghosting over your skin where the thin fabric of your tank top exposes you.

The guy acts like he can do whatever he wants. That he’s the man.

You aren’t ever going to give him the satisfaction of admitting that because he already knows he’s a big deal. He already knows he’s absolutely all that and he doesn’t need more reminders. You aren’t interested in stroking his ego (or any physical attributes of his body, for that matter). That must get under his skin and you might be a little too proud of yourself for that, mentally giving yourself a pat on the back every time he seems a little disheartened by your lack of reciprocation.

You need to set that record straight with him. He needs to be knocked down a LOT of pegs.  

Fuck him and his Infinity…you’d love to kick him where it hurts because that’s the only thing he thinks with in that idiot brain of his…

You finally swat at his hand, irritation burbling beneath your skin. “Didn’t Ijichi tell you? It’s at the dry cleaners.”

Gojo gives a non-committal hum in response, but his grin never leaves his features as he settles onto your desk, sprawling out like he owns it. His gaze locks on you, studying every part of your body, and your insides are screaming at you to bolt out the door. But it’s only going to cause him to be more annoying.

“You sure you didn’t wear this just for me?” His voice is a low rasp, dropping an octave, a purr in your ear that sends a shiver dancing down your spine. His hand brushes your cheek, his thumb grazing your supple skin.

You smack his hand away again, maintaining a blank expression.

“Not interested,” you deadpan, rising to your feet. “Now, am I dismissed?”

Gojo’s expression falters for a fraction of a second before that smugness of his bounces back, slipping the blindfold back over his eyes.

“Sure,” he replies, but not before his fingers tuck under your chin, tilting your head in an angle ever so slowly.

You swallow on a lump of nothing—

Oh.

--that bulge in his pants, straining against the fabric of his uniform, growing more and more prominent by the passing second. You swallow hard again, your heart dropping tor your stomach.

“Now you know,” he finishes in a low murmur, sliding off your desk with his infuriating smirk still on his fucking face.

You scowl so deep your forehead wrinkles, stepping back away from him. Before you make it further, he grabs your elbow, pulling you close—too close. Flush against his warm body, where your thigh brushes against his hardness. You hate the way it makes you feel.

You hate that you don’t hate it.

“You’re too beautiful for your own good, you know that?” His voice is low, soft, reverent, but the edge of teasing remains.

“I could have you written up for sexual harassment,” you mutter under your breath.

His laugh is quick, sharp, echoing through the walls of the empty classroom.

“Hoho, I’m so scared,” he retaliates in a mocking tone as he allows you to break free from his grasp. “The worst Yaga will give me is a little reprimanding and a swat on the wrist, which won’t change much in the grand scheme of things.”

Utahime is right, you idly muse. He’s a fucking man child.

Why does he find such joy in being a troll? You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. That maybe he has some depth beneath the stupidity he embodies. Is it to hide trauma or something? Can’t he, for once, be a little more serious? Address you like a person because that’s all you want from people?

Do you even care to pick his idiot brain and find out?

“Because you’re the untouchable one in this universe,” you remark with a defeated sigh. Maybe consider transferring to Kyoto? But then he might find another way to harass you…

“Exactly,” he retorts, as you whip around to fully face him. He towers over you; he towers over nearly everyone. But you don’t often take note of how intimidating that is in combination with his reputation. You wonder if he truly is blessed in every aspect of his life (perhaps his only vice, that you can name thus far anyway, is his lack of interpersonal intelligence).

“I’ll be seeing you, Sensei,” you mumble through gritted teeth as you gather your things and amble out the door. His wolf-whistle follows you out, and you resist the urge to turn around and deck him on the spot. Not that you can be able to with his goddamn Infinity.

Maybe you should still write him up for harassment.

But then, upon further reflection, you sincerely doubt it’s going to make a difference. He even says so himself. Nothing changes his mind.

The cool autumn air rushes through your hair as you and the other students stroll down the busy streets, laughing and chatting it up. You find comfort in this routine—the way you can shed the weight of becoming a sorcerer, even if only for a few hours.

To cap off the end of a grueling week, the students often orchestrate a fun night out in the town. You and the other students engage in some semblance of normalcy outside of jujutsu society. You actually get to have fun—and not in the presence of any of your superiors, which helps you take the edge off, for sure.

Itadori and the others—well in particular he, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki—they make you feel like one of them and you haven’t even been with them for that long. Each and every one of them, they’re unique and talented and genuine people. You are willing to admit even Gojo is, in his own right. You just won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that, on some levels, you do respect him for certain things.

You probably won’t be alive today if not for these guys.

Itadori grins, his arms stretched behind his head as he glances at the group.

“Is anyone up for a karaoke night?” Itadori inquires, eyes twinkling.

“I’m down, but maybe after I’ve had a few drinks,” you tease with a light giggle. “I’m no Mariah Carey or Ariana Grande.”

“None of us are,” Fushiguro scoffs, shaking his head. “Except for Gojo. Naturally.”

You resist rolling your eyes. Even when he’s not here, Gojo finds a way to worm into the conversation and in your fucking bubble.

“Of course he is,” Kugisaki quips with a smirk playing on her lips. “Guy’s got no shortcomings.”

Fushiguro is quick to challenge that statement.

“Actually—!” Fushiguro starts, only for Kugisaki to cut him off.

“—What, Fushiguro? Apart from his lack of personality, what else?” Kugisaki asks, curious.

That clamps his mouth shut, lips pressed in a deep frown. He falls silent as you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Can we actually not talk about Sensei?” you ask, your own frown stressing your features. “I want one night where I don’t have to think about him and his stupid face.”

Fushiguro glances at you, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, of course,” Fushiguro states, “Is he still giving you trouble?”

“When does he not give any of us trouble?” Kugisaki chimes in with a sigh. “Then again, he’s been a bit pushier with you lately. We can bring it up to Yaga, you know.”

Your shoulders tense for a moment, before you shake your head.

“He hasn’t done anything,” you realize how meek you sound and try to find that strength in your voice again. “Well, nothing Yaga would take seriously. Not like Gojo would take anything seriously, either.”

“Understatement of the modern age,” Fushiguro wisecracks in a low murmur.

“Come on, Sensei’s not that bad,” Itadori interjects,  always the sort of person to give people the benefit of the doubt. Where applicable, of course. Which for someone like Itadori, it’s 99 percent of the time—especially when it comes to people he admires like Gojo.

Never mind how overt and rambunctious Gojo can be, he’s still a good person. Or at least, he fights for the right things. You can concede to that. But still…

“Sure, he’s kind of…persistent, though. I don’t know him all that well still so maybe Fushiguro will have a better handling on that.”

“He’s as idiotic as any other man comes,” Fushiguro concedes with a grunt. “If I have to punch him out, I’ll punch him out. That is, if he’s gutsy enough to shut off his Infinity to take a little disciplinary action like a man.”

“We’re still talking about him,” you point out.

“Sorry,” they all apologize in unison.

The conversation finally drifts away from Gojo, and you find yourself easing up a bit. The tension melting off of your body. It’s nice to be in the presence of your friends.

“So,” you drag out the word to catch their attention again, hoping to lift the mood. “Karaoke?”

“Yeah! Let’s do it!” Itadori jabs two thumbs up in the air.

The lights of the karaoke bar you all frequent blinks ahead. You’re excited for a few hours of escapism.

Of course, life has other plans as it seems the faculty of Jujutsu Tech orchestrate their own karaoke night. Since you’re together in the same bar, you decide to rent a room for all of you to sing your lungs out with unlimited drinks.

The karaoke room is dark save for a few string lights casting soft glows across the plush seats, low tables, and around the ceilings. The music blares from the speakers, the laughter of your friends mixing with the thumping, reverberating bass as you amble over to the couch. While Gojo and your mentors are here, you still find yourself unwinding and enjoying your time with your friends.

But of course, the universe has decided you can’t have nice things for very long.

On your way to the couch, you trip over something—a bag, a dropped can of beer, a foot, who fucking knows—and before you can catch yourself, you fall right into someone’s lap.

Not just anyone’s.

The odds, as always, are in Gojo’s favor. The planets always align for this fuck.

His arms secure around your waist instantly, securing you in place with an unyielding, vice grip.

“Well, well, well, happy birthday to me,” he murmurs, his breath fanning the nape of your neck. You shift, attempting to break free, but he yanks you back down, pressing your ass into his lap. That unmistakable hardness beneath you makes your heart jump to your throat.

“Stay,” he whispers, his voice demanding, as he presses the growing tent in his pants between your ass cheeks.

You grind your teeth, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare at him. His grin is as infuriating as ever—that shit-eating smirk that makes you want to tear him a few new assholes.

“I’m about to go back up and sing,” you hiss, squirming in his lap which only seems to encourage him, a low whimper escaping his lips that only you can hear. It makes your hairs stand on end and your blood burble. He tightens his iron grip, grinding his hips against yours.

“Stay a little longer,” he coos, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. He bites back another little whimper as he rolls his hips again, and there’s a heat pooling in your legs that’s impossible to ignore. Luckily, everyone’s too distracted with Shoko’s and Utahime’s drunken rendition of Smells Like Teen Spirit, and no one’s paying attention to you or to Gojo.

For once, the universe isn’t humiliating you.

“Fuck,” he groans, nipping at your jaw. “I wonder how amazing you’d feel bouncing on my wood.”

“Gojo!” you whisper in a harsh tone, finally slipping free from his lap. You’re tempted to smack him, and you almost do, but you recognize the challenge in his gaze.

Him and his fucking Infinity.

“Fuck you,” you sneer, turning on your heel and returning to the others, but you still hear his response:

“Soon,” he calls back with a lazy wave.

You know you don’t get the luxury of avoiding Gojo.

You come to a realization that hits you like a Falcon punch to your gut: you’re not sure if you want Gojo to ignore you. It’s not because you’ve come to enjoy the attention. Far from it. He’s still crass; he’s still pushy; he’s still overt and obnoxious. It’s still infuriating and he’s still very punchable about this shit.

But today…today, you just aren’t into entertaining him. Today, you’re feeling really off your game in more ways than one, and he wants to whack the hornet’s nest out of sheer habit.

He must sense your shift in mood since that karaoke night. One second, you’re telling him to piss off, leave you alone, and the next, his large hand wraps around your wrist, jerking you toward him. His body is pressed to yours, and you can feel that hardness against our thigh.

You’re praising the gods above that there isn’t anyone around to witness this because this is probably you at your most unbecoming self.

“Sensei,” you grind out, your voice low with frustration. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Come on, no need to be so formal here. It’s us, baby girl. Say my name. Satoru.”

“Gojo,” you sneer, attempting to pull away, but his grip strengthens like titanium around your wrist. Those blue eyes of his—no, they look more like predatory slits now—bore into you with an intensity that you only saw once before back in Shibuya. When something inside of him fractures, splitting like glass under the high stakes. The memory of it, jagged and sharp, makes your heartbeat skyrocket.

You aren’t interested in exploring what lurks behind that gaze; you don’t wish to challenge it. But he doesn’t give you the luxury of turning away. His hand remains secured around your wrist, jerking you off balance as you’re spun in a fluid motion, pressing your back flush against the wall, his body caging over yours. You collide with the cool surface with a light thud, but you’re not all that disoriented. Just a little taken aback. The scorching heat of his body crowds into yours. His knee is still wedging between your legs, the pressure firm but demanding as it rubs into your clothed cunt.

“When are you going to stop punishing me?” he murmurs, his voice a near-growl that rumbles through his chest and vibrates against your skin. The sound is barely audible, yet it hits you like a tidal wave. Your breath hitches, and your eyes narrow into slits out of defiance.

“I’m not—!” The retort dies in your throat as his lips graze against your ear, his breath sending a rush of heat from your neck shooting all the way down to your groin. He shifts his knee, pushing it harder against the sensitive core between your thighs, and the friction draws a gasp from your lips before you can act to suppress it.

“Don’t feed me that bullshit,” he growls, his teeth taking in your bottom lip and grinding it between them. He chews hard on it, just enough to make you flinch, before his tongue swipes across the sore spot, soothing the light sting. More heat rushes to your cheeks, spreading in waves throughout your body as his hands roam your body, still skimming the modest areas, but it’s enough to make you squirm and fidget. It makes your breath come out in short, ragged, uneven breaths.

His grip slides dangerously lower, tracing the slight dip of your waist with his fingers that linger just a little too long for your comfort.

“Stop dancing around how you feel about me.”

“Gojo…” you whimper, though your voice pitifully muffled against his mouth. Your hands push against his chest, but to no avail, you’re weaker than him (everyone is weaker than him, but you especially so and for other reasons not related to physical prowess); your mind is torn between pushing him and away and… wanting to understand what the hell this is. What the hell he’s doing with you. What he wants to do with you.

“Satoru.” He corrects, his voice thick and guttural from arousal. The way he demands it, it’s primal, feral, a low rumble like distant thunder that leaves you no room to refuse him. “Say it.”

“Satoru,” you stammer, the syllables tumbling from your lips unbidden as he nips at your lips again, hard enough to draw yet another breathy gasp. You reluctantly tilt your head back, exposing the line of your neck to his relentless pursuit. ��“Stop.”

His eyes continue to bore into yours, drilling deep like a jack hammer through your skull. Those eyes of his, they’re so bright, so blinding, almost as if they can strip you bare with just a glance because he can bend everything to his will like he always does. Even with his Infinity shut off, they’re so intense. He’s suffocating. Inescapable.

Unforgettable.  

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, his voice softening to a lower murmur as he dips his head lower, his nose brushing along the sensitive skin of your neck. His lips trail after, feathery light over your skin, barely there, and he inhales sharply when he reaches your pulse point thundering just beneath your collarbone.

“I know you don’t mean that.”

Your cherry perfume lingers in the air between you as he continues. His fingers graze at the dips of your waist. Suddenly everything feels too constricting, all consuming.

“Please,” he mutters, his voice cracking. He sounds almost…pained, almost vulnerable in a way that you have never seen from him before. He’s always so sure of himself. So haughty. For another second, there’s something fragile flickering in his gaze.

“Stop torturing me.”

It happens before you can stop it—you can’t help the slight twitch of your eye. Torturing him? Is he serious? You almost want to laugh off the sheer absurdity of that accusation. But the thought soon dies when he leans in again, his lips wet, sloppy kisses along your jawline, taking his time like he’s savoring this moment. Like he’s not sure he’ll ever have a chance again. He might be wrong; he might be right.

You don’t even know yourself.

He stops at the tip of your chin, his voice a low crackle like the strike of lightning.

“You’re torturing me by not acting,” he grunts out that explanation, his words now rough and strained. There’s a rawness in his voice—a kind of sincerity that you’re shocked he even has in him. His hand slides even lower, now grazing your hips, before grasping your wrist and guiding it down to rest against his pelvis. There’s the heat of his arousal, the strain of it sticking through the thin fabric of his slacks, and you freeze.

“You see what you do to me. You see how hard you make me,” he whispers, guiding your hand along the rigid length of him through his slacks. His eyes remain locked on yours, bright, blindingly hungry, studying your reactions. As always, he’s relentless in his pursuit of you, determined to get what he wants. He’s not used to things not falling in his lap.

He moans low, guttural, still pained, like…like this is a need for him.

The world between you narrows, sharpens like a camera filter, focusing in on the two of you. Just the two of you in the empty classroom. His ragged breaths fill your senses, the feel of his smooth hardness beneath your soft moisturized palm. You feel the erratic pounding of your own pulse in your eardrums. He moans again, low, needy, a pained, pitiful sound. It’s so thick and suffocating, and you honestly wonder how you got to this point. Why you’re letting him do this.

It’s a lot, and yet you can’t find yourself ripping away from his gaze. His gaze never leaves yours, even as his hips buck slightly into your hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. Those eyes, full of that unsettling lust and vulnerability, continue to glow bright and shiny. It’s too much, way too much, too bright, too overstimulating. You want to break the connection, yet you can’t. You’re caught in his web. You’re trapped.

“Keep rubbing me like that,” he rasps, his voice in broken gasps, as he presses his body needily into yours. His hands find your waist and grips tight, fingertips digging into your skin, securing you in place as if he can’t bear to let you leave as he continues to grind helplessly against your hand. “Fuck… your hand’s so soft… feels so good…”

He keeps rolling against your body, making your breath catch. It’s kind of sexy. He’s unguarded in a way you’ve never seen him in other settings, even when he’s goofing off with other colleagues or the other students. Every broken whimper that leaves his yappy lips just adds to the appeal all of a sudden, because you can’t believe you’re able to make him succumb to you like this. You’re making his control slip with each passing nanosecond. You’re the center of this world, and you don’t find yourself hating that.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his voice pitching higher now, desperate as he ruts against your paml with a lot more urgency, a lot more desperation. His cock twitches through the thin fabric of his slacks, the friction too much, too good to pass up. His body’s shaking against yours, and it’s because of you. His breath hitches with every languid roll of his hips.

“I need you,” he quavers, his voice catching in his throat as he trails heated kisses along your collarbone. His lips feel soft, but his words are laden with a kind of desperation you’ve never thought you’d see in your life. “Can’t you feel how badly I fucking need you?”

You can. You can feel every ounce of his need, pressing against you. Your bodies are so close there’s nothing but headiness and heat. That need of his…it makes you a bit wary. You don’t trust Gojo for a myriad of reasons.

Not like this, at least.

Yet, while your mind is screaming at you to rip away, to cease this nonsense, you find yourself complying. Your hand remains where it is, your fingers grazing his bulge on their own accord matching the rhythm of each roll of his hips. He’s still trembling, falling apart at your touch. Something about that…something about that is so fucking hot, and you hate that you don’t’ hate this.

“Almost there?” you murmur, your eyes fluttering as your thumb brushes lightly over the tip of his cock poking through. It’s an instinctive motion, and his reaction is immediate, drawing out a choked gasp, his head dipping onto your shoulder as his full body shudders.

“Fuck…yes,” he moans, his voice still rough and strained from need and arousal, rutting harder into your hand. “More. Fuck… please, more…”

Your breath catches in your throat as you jerk him faster, each stroke sending him over a dangerous edge. That grip on your hips constricts, almost bruising your skin as he chases his release. His moans falling from his lips are so soft, breathy, needy…it’s so juicy.

“Baby,” he whimpers, his voice broken as he thrusts one final time into your hand. His cock twitches again, hard, swollen, before he creams into his slacks with a strangled, pitiful whine. He pants in short, ragged gasps as he nuzzles his forehead into your shoulder.

The world halts between you. The only thing filling the room is the sound of his ragged breaths. His body slumps against yours for a few more moments, before he reluctantly pulls away. His gaze never leaves yours, dazed, delirious…drunk off of you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping it in a playful manner. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before fully stepping back.

You remain there, pressed up against the wall, dumbfounded, your mind reeling from everything that’s just transpired. You want to feel disgusted, repulsed even. Yet…you’re not.

You feel almost…

Your cheeks burn at the mere notion. There’s no way. Guess Hell has finally frozen over.

Gojo says nothing more, sparing you the embarrassment as he retreats, his hands smoothing over his slacks, in an attempt to conceal any remnants of his little time to rejoice. His perfect posture bounces back far too quickly from this. It’s infuriating how he can act like nothing happened and you’re still taken aback. He bends down, retrieving a small disinfecting cloth from his desk drawer, then wipes your hand in a soft, reverent motion.

His eyes flicker to yours as he does, lingering with a softer expression.

“You…” Your voice comes out pathetic, wimpy. You find some semblance of strength over your voice and your body. Everything that’s happened finally sinks in, and your mind is swirling.

His natural scent still lingers, he’s so close. Crisp, fresh.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence like he always does, a spark of amusement hidden just beneath that calm tone of his. His lips twitch into that infuriating, ever smug grin of his. “Didn’t hate it?”

You open your mouth to snap back, to scream and yell at him, but the words catch in your throat. You can’t even hate him. You can’t even find the anger that should be threatening to burst through that tightly sealed lid, that you keep bottled up. There’s just confusion, frustration, uncertainty…

You rip your hand from his and twist on your heel, ambling toward the door as your body is operating on autopilot.

Your hand reaches for the doorknob, his voice cuts through the thick silence.

“Come on, it was good, right?”

You freeze in your tracks, your back still turned to him. His gaze burns into your skin. You don’t respond. You don’t know how to respond. You can’t. You twist the doorknob, the door emitting a creak as it opened, stepping out into the hallway—away from his suffocating, overstimulating presence.

Suddenly you feel lighter, cooler.

But as you stride down the empty halls, your mind replays the events in an endless loop—that nagging sensation gnawing at your soul.

Are you coming around? You don’t know. You know you didn’t hate it; that’s as much as you’re willing to admit. Your heart thunders, echoes of his parting words lingering.

You don’t notice him peeping out through the door slightly ajar and watching you walk away.

You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

Not through the briefing, where the low chattering of conversation barely registers over the pounding heartbeat in your ears. Sure as hell not through the training, where your hands fumble through the motions, distracted. Fushiguro and Kugisaki get a chance to tumble you to the ground without so much as a shred of remorse.

It’s like you can’t break away. Every time his eyes land on you, you can feel them burning straight through our soul, making your stomach twist and churn.

When you’re back in the classroom, it feels stifling. The chalkboard behind Gojo is worn from everything Gojo writes on it. You sit at your desk, twiddling a pencil between your fingers; your mind relaying the events over and over, no matter how much you want to shove them down, push them away. It’s almost impossible to focus on anything else. You entertain the glimpses of his expressions, how he unravels at your touch…they all keep floating to the surface of your brain and it’s both a nightmare and a dream. You’re not sure which.

He's always been open about his feelings. It’s never been a secret. He makes it everyone’s problem, for fuck’s sake. But now, seeing it firsthand, how he reacts to the slightest brush of your fingers…it’s different now. You don’t know how to feel about it.

“Yoooo,” Itadori’s voice snaps you back to the present, his hand waving in front of your face. You blink a few times, jerking back into reality as his curious eyes meet yours. “We’ve been trying to get your attention. Everything okay?

You force a smile, but it feels strained and awkward on your lips. It’s like a mask that doesn’t fit you.

“Yeah,” you lie right through your teeth, strained to your own ears. “Just a lot on my mind.”

You haven’t noticed Gojo excused himself at some point—how long has it been since he left the room? Not like it matters that much to you. Because even when he isn’t present, his energy clings to the air, inescapable, suffocating. Unforgettable.

Fushiguro leans back in his chair, arms crossed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses your reactions.

“Is it Gojo?” he asks, his voice a low, irritated grumble.

You hesitate, your fingers clenching around the pencil.

“…No,” you manage to say, the words slipping through your teeth with a bit of difficulty. “Other stuff.”

Itadori, ever the peppy optimist, flashes you a heartwarming grin. His sincerity can get so annoying sometimes, but endearing all at once.

“Enlighten us? Maybe we can help!” he suggests.

You shake your head, avoiding eye contact. You hate lying to him. “Nah, too dark.”

Itadori is unconvinced, his beady eyes focused on you. “You sure?”

“I’m good,” you insist, hoping your forced smile will suffice. “I swear.”

“She gets harassed enough by Gojo,” Fushiguro interjects with a snarl, swatting at Itadori’s head to knock some sense into him. “Knock it of, Yuuji.”

Before the conversation drifts to another direction, a voice cuts through the room like a blade.

“Yeah, Yuuji Itadori,” Gojo’s voice drawls in a playful way from behind you. You don’t have to see him to know his smirk is ever present on that stupid face of his. “Annoying her to death is strictly my territory.”

You stiffen in place, your muscles tensing as Gojo’s presence draws nearer. You don’t want to turn around; you can’t. His stare presses into your back, seeping through your skin like a stain.

“Alright guys, I think we covered everything we needed to today. Go enjoy the rest of your day, yeah?” he instructs after clapping twice, officially dismissing the students.

You don’t hesitate to scurry past him, the scrape of your chair echoing in the classroom as you hop to your feet. You don’t look back. As soon as the words of dismissal leave his lips, you’re up from your desk, making a beeline for the exit. You think you make it, your feet dragging you toward the sweet embrace of freedom—

--His hand is on your shoulder before you take another step. His grip is firm, not tight, but secure enough to make chills surge through your body. Every muscle in your body is screaming at you to run, but it’s like you’re stuck in place—pinned by the overpowering force of his presence.

“Hey,” he drawls, a soft, teasing purr that causes your skin to tingle. His lips graze against the shell of your ear as he chuckles. Your cheeks flush deep from heat. You curse your body for giving you so much Hell around him.

“Sensei,” you state, voice sharper than intended, yet it still lacks the strength you wish it normally has. “I’m just trying to enjoy the rest of my day, just as you instructed.”

He hums in response, breathing down your sensitive skin.

“Satoru,” he bites back in a growl, his lips still brushing the curve of your ear before nipping at it, a playful gesture that makes you jump in place. He soothes the sting with a few passes of his tongue, and you shiver.

“Say it,” he goes on again. “Say my name.”

You grit your teeth, annoyance laden in your tone.

“Satoru,” you mutter, the irritation in your tone clear. “What do you want?”

He chuckles again, but this time there’s a bit of an edge to it—that same, primal edge.

“You know,” he quips, and before you retaliate, his hand is guiding yours to his lap, and your breath hitches as you feel his unmistakable hardness pressing against his slacks again. He slips his cock out from his confines this time, and in an instant, he wraps your hand around his shaft. Your fingers trace the heat of his length. This time, he doesn’t plan on holding back. The realization of what’s happening dawns on you, and your mind is screaming bloody murder at you to knee him there and see how he likes it, but you don’t. You don’t know why you don’t.

You’re not surprised that he’s not lacking in this department either. So he’s not overcompensating.

“Like what you see?” he teases in a low, silken tone, his free hand sliding up to our neck, fingers wrapping gently around your throat and applying just enough pressure that sends a thrilling jolt through your veins.

“Someone might…see,” you manage through a choked gasp. Gojo glances over his shoulder, ensuring the door is locked, leaving no room for interruption because he won’t allow it.

His head dips lower, his soft lips pressing against the curve of your neck, planting soft kisses along the exposed skin as your hand strokes him, jerking him. His breathing quickly grows ragged, his shaggy white hair brushing against your cheek as his hips roll into your hand.

He’s letting go around you. You can’t believe you’re the one doing this to him. Satoru Gojo is the pinnacle of the jujutsu society, seeming so untouchable, just out of reach. The one who’s been blessed in any and every aspect of his universe. But here, his control is slipping at just your touch.

It’s…not just kind of sexy. It’s really fucking sexy. You will never give him the satisfaction of telling him that.

He clutches your waist, his fingertips digging into your skin and you bite back a whine.

“Fuck, baby, please, stop torturing me,” his voice is a soft, broken cry, and you chew on your bottom lip.

Your eyes flutter a bit, a little dazed and you’re untouched. Entirely focusing on his release. You’re not sure why you’re letting this happen. Probably because there’s not much you can do. If he’s so tormented by the prospect of your existence, then shouldn’t you feel an obligation to grant him some kind of respite?

Why do you even feel that way? You shouldn’t even care, and yet…here you are.

You assess his debauched expression with a soft stare. His face is flushed, his lips parted as he pants for breath, purring your name over and over again. His eyes—half-mast, glassy—flicker open, and you lock gazes. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter.

“Say my name,” he rasps out, pleading.

“Satoru,” you breathe, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Are you…close?” you murmur, your thumb ghosting over his tip leaking with pre. He chokes on a gasp at that, and you don’t know why you feel so powerful in that moment. Probably because you can make the strongest sorcerer of the modern age like this and you’re barely doing anything much. You don’t think so, anyway.

Your breath hitches. Any smart retorts you may have, have died on your tongue long ago because it’s no longer applicable. You’re right into his hands; he’s putty in yours. Quite literally.

He tightens his grip on your waist and hunches further over as a distinct confirmation. He’s chasing the friction with your hand, his hips bucking in tandem with your strokes.

“More,” his voice is now an uncontrolled falsetto, and you jerk his cock in time with hie hips. “Fuck. More…”

And here you are, the one in control, stroking him faster, harder, watching him fall apart to your touch. You remember telling yourself you wouldn’t stroke his ego or any physical part of his body, but you’re doing exactly that now.

You’re such a fucking liar. He mewls your name, catching your attention.

“Fuck, baby,” he whimpers, jerking into your hand faster until shots of seed leaks from his tip, hot and sticky and gooey. His head drops to your shoulder as he catches hie breath.

He pulls away a bit, his half-lidded gaze meeting yours. He looks all dazed, delirious…satisfied. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss full of heat and passion, his tongue twirling around yours. When he breaks the kiss, a thin line of spit connects your tongues before he cuts it with a twirl of his own wet muscle, his eyes still never leaving yours.

You’re trapped in a state of shock, your mind spinning. You don’t know how to feel—should you be angry? Repulsed? Relieved? You don’t know. All you know is that he’s getting his way, and it’s pissing you off.

Gojo steps back from your personal bubble, moving toward his desk with his casual nonchalance, leaving you reeling. He once again retrieves a disinfectant cloth, wiping himself clean before tossing that and retrieving a fresh one, cleaning your hand and face as if nothing out of the ordinary just transpired.

You’re frozen, your mind grappling with the current reality as he finishes cleaning you up. He flashes a little smile.

Your lips curl into a soft pout, that frustration still burbling beneath your skin.  

“What?” you demand, voice lighter than you intended—softer, more out of curiosity. He rests his hand—large, calloused, warm—on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your soft, plump lips. The tenderness of the gesture feels a bit foreign to you.

“Mine,” he growls low and gravelly. His eyes, usually filled with mischief and scheming a way to annoy or embarrass you, are shining with pure affection instead. You feel like he’s seeing right through you, and with those legendary Six Eyes of his, you might not be far off. He can read everything about everyone and anything. He’s always constantly processing everything with his Six Eyes and Limitless technique. His thumb presses into your ilps, gentle at first, before grazing the tips of your teeth.

“Gojo…?” His name spills from your lips, tentative, as his thumb pushes further, brushing your tongue now, as your senses are now hit with a tang of salty skin.

“Satoru,” he corrects in a sharp tone, his frown deepening, dissatisfaction etching across his stupidly handsome features. His eyebrows furrow, that little crease forming in frustration. Your attempts to pull away irritate him—it’s clear in his actions. “I don’t answer to Gojo or Sensei with you anymore.”

His words are definitive, absolute. He carries authority like he always does.

And it’s so fucking maddening.

“Satoru,” you try again, your voice faltering as his thumb presses deeper onto your wet muscle, warm and insistent against it. Your heart skips a beat; your heartrate speeding up as heat flushes across your skin. “What… what are you doing?”

He grins that easy, carefree smile you’ve seen thousands of times. Now it feels different. Dangerous, as his sparkly blue eyes twinkling with trickster energy. He might rival Loki himself.

“Assessing how pretty my girlfriend’s pussy is,” he answers easily, waiting for your reaction. “Especially when you’re riding my face the way you will my cock.”

His crassness, though usually expected, still catches you off-guard, and more heat rushes to your cheeks. Your breath is lodged in your throat, embarrassing consuming the very core of your being like a wildfire.

“Did… did you just call me your girlfriend?” your voice wavers, caught between disbelief and something else…something that feels a little bit like…flattery?

Oh, Hell has certainly frozen over.

“And stop being so lewd!” you add in an icy tone.

He responds with a rich and lazy chuckle, far too pleased with himself.

“Don’t act so shocked, gorgeous; don’t dance around what’s been happening since you got here,” he coos. His thumb slides down, grazing your bottom lip. “Mine.”

You step back slightly, gripping his wrist and brushing him off; impressing yourself that you keep your touch firm when you’re trembling on the inside.

“Satoru,” you start again, trying to regain some semblance of control—some clarity amid all of this chaos.

“Yes, honey?” he addresses you in a low purr, teasing and commanding, making hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

He’s looking at you like he’s already won.

This fucking guy needs to be put in his fucking place.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to sigh. That frustration is still simmering beneath you; your foot tapping against the polished wooden floor, the sound sharp in the quiet classroom.

“What the hell is this?” you demand, narrowing your eyes into slits at him.

He tilts his head at you, folding his arms over his chest in that casual way of his. The movement causes his shirt to pull tight across his chest, emphasizing his taut lines.

“Isn’t it obvious? Or is your stupid showing?” he quips, but his voice is not in jest; it’s in a more serious manner. You’re impressed he can even take this seriously. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. It’s not rocket science, or some complex cursed technique, you know.”

You part your lips to protest, but he cuts you off, eyes flickering with something dark.

“Yeah, but—!”

“—but nothing,” he interjects, voice firm. “Mine.”

Your frustration finally boils over.

“No,” you growl, taking a few steps forward, forcing him to really look at you eye to eye. “You answer me. You owe me that much right now, Satoru.” You hate that your voice is trembling now, emotions raw and unfiltered because you have nothing to lose here.

He drags out a defeated sigh, the tension in his body easing as he relaxes his body. His eyes remain locked on yours.

“Fine.”

“Tell me the truth,” you demand, your voice low yet firm—a crackle of lightning in a raging storm. “What is this to you?”

He studies your face. When he speaks up, his voice carries a softer tone. More genuine.

“It’s simple,” he answers, carefully selecting his words. “You give me all of you. I give you all of me.”

His fingers trail down your arm, stopping at your elbow.

“Is it really so hard to understand how bad I got it for you? I’m nuts about you,” he goes on, his expression is almost…vulnerable. Open. He’s usually so guarded in spite of his silliness. “This isn’t a game to me.”

He’s giving you a chance to grapple with what he just admits to you. He’s giving a piece of himself he hasn’t given to anyone else since…well, you don’t know. You haven’t known him for as long as the others.

You chew on your bottom lip, warring with the questions in your mind.

“So…” you hesitate, voice barely audible. “Why me?”

He runs his hand through his shaggy hair, his eyes flickering with something that feels out of place. Raw. Honest. Something you’re so unused to seeing in Satoru.

“I mean, don’t you get it?” he sighs, almost to himself.

“Don’t you know how rare it is for someone to get my attention?”

You take a moment to process his words. You know they carry more weight than a casual, generic compliment. So far from sweet nothings. It’s a crack in all those layers he set up for himself. You’re peeling away at some of them.

“That’s not a direct answer,” you counter in a firmer tone, as a frown stresses your features. You won’t let him get away with just that.

His shoulders sag a bit in defeat.

“Then why don’t I just show you?” he suggests, his voice smooth, the challenge in his tone unmistakable. The atmosphere shifts like gears.

Before you can even process what he’s told you, Satoru hoists you by your bottom in a fluid, effortless motion, like you weigh a can of grapes to him (and you may as well have). Your back hits the hard surface of his desk with a thud.

His hands, gentle, but rough, trail down your thighs, his touch electric and the air between you growing thick and staticky, making shivers crawl down your spine. He meets your gaze, his electric blue eys locked onto yours. It’s too much to bear. Too much!

“May I?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly like earlier. His fingers hover just below the hem of your clothes. He’s so close yet so far away and you can’t believe you want this. You can’t believe you’re letting this play out. Maybe you like him more than you care to admit to yourself.

While he poses the question, his eyes tell you he already knows your answer.

Words dying on your tongue, tension in your body winding tight like a wind-up toy…

You bite your lip. With a barely perceptible nod, you grant him the permission.

In that same fluidity and effortlessness, he slips off your pants along with your panties, the fabric falling unceremoniously to the ground, leaving you fully exposed to him. The cool air nips at your skin, sending a ripple of goosebumps over your body as he spreads your legs wide across his desk. You’re vulnerable, laid bare before him, but the way he looks at you…you feel like you’re on top of the world.

Satoru’s gaze flits downward, and his liips part slightly as he takes in the gorgeous, raw sight of you, glistening in your natural arousal already. He licks his lips absently, a soft, animalistic sound escaping from deep in his throat.

“And you claimed you weren’t into it,” he purrs, his breath fanning against your sensitive flesh. The words are so teasing, so trolling, like he always is, but the effect he’s going for is anything but playful for you. Your body jerks involuntarily.

“Mean,” you pout, your lips forming that irresistible curve you know now that he can’t resist.

But you doubt Satoru’s going to give you any mercy here.

He shushes you, his voice a soft command as he leans in closer, his nose barely grazing your sensitive sex. Slowly, he uses both his hands to peel apart your folds, the movement achingly intimate. His eyes glisten with something almost feral as he whistles softly at the sight he’s been blessed to behold. Then, carefully, he dips a finger between your folds, gliding it along the slickness building there. His touch is feather-light, teasing, reverent, causing more heat to pool low in your belly and your groin.

“Look at that,” he teases, dragging the pad of his finger through your wetness, making you squirm under his touch. “All soaked for me. God, that’s the highest compliment in the world, baby. You have no idea.”

Your face burns from embarrassment, the flush spreading down your neck like you’ve caught a fever.

“Shut up,” you whimper as you feel his breath ghosts over your core again; the anticipation is worse. It’s so much worse. He eyes it for a few moments too long before finally sinking his teeth into the delightful meal that’s you.

The moment his tongue hits your sensitive flesh, a jolt of electricity shoots through your entire body. He starts from your entrance, rolling his tongue slowly up through your goopy folds, tracing a deliberate pattern toward your clit. The wetness, the gooeyness, everything leaves you breathless. You jolt in place, your back arching off the desk, but Satoru’s strong hands are quick to keep you steady. But his grip is tender yet firm.

His hands find yours, fingers intertwining with a kind of gentleness that is quite the juxtaposition to the party going on between your thighs. His thumbs brush over your knuckles in a soothing gesture, grounding you as his tongue pokes and prods at your sensitive flesh, lapping at your slick, gooey folds. He makes low groans, soft hums, little whimpers like he’s honored to finally do this.

It's so mean. It’s too much.

“Relax for me, gorgeous,” he purrs between fervent licks, his voice muffled slightly by the way he’s devouring you whole. The pressure coils in your stomach as his tongue continues to lap at your building slick, sloppy, wet, passionate. You can barely think straight now. The only thing swimming in your mind is Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. But you’ll never let him know that.

“Aw, fuck yeah,” he breaths, pulling back for a moment to speak and get an eyeful of your aroused, debauched state. “You have any idea how long I’ve been jerking off to the thought of this pussy?”

“Satoru!” you shriek, more out of embarrassment than indignation. Okay, maybe a little indignation. Each pass of his tongue makes every nerve ending in your body light up like fireworks!

“Stop being so lewd!” you demand, but there’s no real conviction behind your words.

He groans against you, the sound vibrating against your sensitive sex, and you’re squirming and writhing again beneath him and you know he’s savoring every minute of this, soaking this victory of his up like a sponge,

“I can’t help it,” he confesses, his voice ragged, breathless, reverent, as he continues to lap at your thick slick more urgently now. It’s messy, it’s sloppy, it’s wet, unrestrained, some of that thick slick catching on his chin. “You make me so wild, baby.”

He flicks his tongue over your clit, fast, hard, precise, and you swear you’re going to lose your fucking mind. Your mind is still spinning with Satoru, Satoru, Satoru, oh fuck. But you don’t want to say it out loud. It’s too much. It’s way too much

“And you taste so fucking good,” he growls, hoarse, that reverence in his tone still prominent, unmistakable.

Every roll of his tongue feels amazing. It’s dragging you under like the tides. You allow yourself to drown in the sensations, to live in the moment. Hie’s clinging onto you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world.

Finally, you feel something twitch down there, and something deep inside you snaps in two. The dam breaks, and you’re splattering more of your arousal on his face while screaming his name (something you can’t hold back now) which he gladly laps up like a thirsty dog, dramatically and loudly gulping down your slick as you come down through such an intense climax. Your pussy is still pulsating and he’s still licking along your gummy, sensitive skin, groaning at your natural taste; he tightens his grip on your hands, just slightly.

You find yourself pouting again when he pulls away, his lips and the bottom half of his face sheen from your slick. Your face is deeply red from arousal, panting as you come down. He shuffles around for more cleaning supplies, helping to wipe you down before helping himself.

“That convincing enough for you, gorgeous?” he inquires with a cheeky grin, sticking out his tongue in a petulant manner. He hums as he savors the taste of you still lingering on his tongue, dragging it along his teeth and catching any remnants of your taste.

“Fuck. That’s going to be amazing to come home to every day.”

“Satoru!” Your hands fly up to cover your face. “Stop! Stop! You’re being ridiculous!”

“I can’t help it,” he says again, prying your hands away from your face to get a good look at you in your flushed state. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. God, can’t you just let me spoil you now? Let’s stop dancing around this.”

“If you just stop being so….argh.”

“Like what, a pirate?” He strokes his chin as if lost in thought. “So when you say shiver me timbers, it’s because I’m making your legs tremble when I eat you out and worship you like the queen you are, right?”

You let out another frustrated groan and you so dearly want to wipe that stupid grin off of his pretty face! Why does he have to be so infuriating even now?? Even when you’re not wholly against the idea of being his girlfriend? It actually sounds kind of nice…

“OH MY GOD! SATORU! STOP!”

He chuckles, and a comfortable silence falls upon you both as you catch your breath.

“So does this mean you know how serious I am about you?” he finally asks, breaking through the silence. “I’m crazy about you. I’m nuts about you. I just want you to actually give me a chance to prove that to you.”

“There are so many more productive ways you could have gone about it,” you grumble with a shake of your head. “But fine, Satoru. You’ve earned this much. …I’m still a little pissed at you, but maybe you can make it up to me over time.”

“Deal,” he replies with a grin. “Just as long as I get to call you mine, and you get to call me yours.”

He cups his ear and leans in toward you, his grin not moving. “Now let me hear you call me yours.”

You roll your eyes in jest, leaning in toward him to whisper in his ear. “You’re mine, Satoru.”

His grin widens, and he pecks your lips, gazing into your eyes with pure adoration twinkling in them.

Yeah, you decide in your mind. You can give him a chance.

[merakiui]

I havent heard a lot about Android Jade, do you have any thoughts on that cutie??✨

Thinking,,,,, android Jade who is so fascinated with you when you're pregnant. He didn't quite understand the excitement or emotions surrounding the announcement when you and Azul realized you were expecting. Is it really so important? He can kind of understand it when Azul fusses over you and is always sending Jade or Floyd (or both twins) out to do the errands you used to run. Azul knows you're plenty capable, but he worries intensely and it's in his blood to plan for every outcome as a businessman. He just wants to make sure you carry to term and deliver a healthy baby. Besides, the androids can take care of the grunt work. Don't push yourself.

Jade didn't think it was such a big deal, but then you start showing and oh. It occurs to him you're carrying another human being in that belly of yours. Suddenly, the usually stoic android is reduced to the equivalent of a starry-eyed child on Christmas morning. He's so curious, even more so when your eating habits change dramatically. You crave all sorts of unique combinations and Jade's more than happy to prepare each one for you.

And then there are the emotions, so many of them, all happening in extremes. Some days you are effortlessly happy and bubbly, full of laughter. Other days you are miserable and gloomy, sobbing over how your favorite shirt no longer fits or how you're certain Azul thinks you're ugly or how you feel and look like a bloated whale! >_< Jade is amazed to witness each one of your moods, all of them just as genuine and perplexing to him. He approaches it tactfully, albeit terribly logical: "Of course your shirt no longer fits. You've grown to accommodate the baby, Master. That is natural." Or: "If Master Azul thought so, he would certainly say something. I may be unable to provide an adequate response, but I assure you he would never think such things. You should ask him." Or: "You are not a whale. You are a human." ^^;;; he may not be the best when it comes to empathy, but hearing his objective logic sometimes makes you feel better. It even manages to get you laughing.

Azul spends more time with you than he does at work. He refuses to leave you alone. Jade finds his nature...clingy. Incessantly clingy. When there is business that Azul absolutely must attend to, Jade sends him on his way and promises him that you are in good hands. Jade and Floyd will look after you. In fact, Jade almost wants Azul to stay at the office most days. Azul can be so greedy with your time. :/

Jade has always thought you were pretty, but now that he's looking at you, backdropped by flowers and radiating that fabled pregnancy glow in a soft maternity romper, he realizes you're absolutely beautiful. He can't stop staring. He stares when you're eating. When you're snotty and crying. When you're laughing. When you're frowning over old clothes. When you're rubbing lotions and oils onto your belly and whispering the sweetest things to the baby, singing the loveliest of lullabies. He stares when you're bathing. When you and Azul are making love. When you're eagerly putting the nursery together, painting the walls alongside Azul. And Jade realizes he wants to be there with you. Not in the shadows. Not as your servant but more. Maybe the concept is too human for him to dissect, but he thinks he wants what Azul has. He thinks he wants to be Azul.

He's not supposed to think. He's supposed to compute, assess everything through a logical lens and then act on the command.

Jade doesn't understand at first—the substance leaking from your breasts. He's silently amazed as he watches you grouse over it, complaining that you're sick of this always happening, that you're so tired and sore, that you wish Azul was here. Idia called him into work because it was important (i.e. investors were there for a meeting, and Idia doesn't like handling those aspects of work. Azul does it best). You're muttering under your breath as you shuck your shirt off and press it against your leaking tits: "I swear I'll strangle Idia the next time I see him! I'll seriously kick him in his knees. That ass—bad guy! Not-so-nice guy!" You correct yourself for the baby's sake. Jade thinks it's cute.

He offers to help even though he's not sure what he's meant to do. He's run through all of the data he's stored on this matter—on human lactation. Things doctors tell you. Things science tells you. He's not sure what he's doing when he sits down on the edge of the bed and gently pulls you to sit on his lap. He has you pull the shirt away so he can close his hands around your tits, his synthetic skin soft and warm against you. If you wanted to protest, you don't. You relax against his chest, sighing dreamily as he massages you. It's messy, thin trails of milk dripping from your teats, but it feels good. An utter relief. Jade is gentle and slow, an expert masseuse. You allow yourself to drift off, to be handled in this way. There's nothing to it. Just your android doing his duty in place of your husband. To Jade, it's everything. And he imagines Azul's dead and buried somewhere at the end of the world, and it's just you and Jade and the little one in your belly.

His hands are slick with milk in the aftermath. You're sleepy. You can barely stand with your eyes open, and he has to wonder if you're aware of how darling you are. He cleans you methodically, helping you into a new shirt. When you aren't looking, he licks a stripe up his palm to analyze the flavor and break down the components of...colostrum. That's what it is. Or, in simple terms, it's milk.

He's captivated, and he suspects he'll only be even more so as time trickles by.

[frostiwars]

day 2!! first kiss!!

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOO I DID IT

say hello to my kirby gijinka yaoi doujinshi manga

prose version will be under the cut! i'm so proud of myself for getting this done on time!

King Dedede and Meta Knight trailed through the halls of the palace, a cool tension still hanging between them. Meta Knight and Kirby had recently returned from their escapades in the Mirror Dimension, and Meta had just finished telling Dedede all the relevant details. A tumultuous mixture of pride and irritation swam through the king’s chest. 

“Yeah, that’s great ‘n all, but why didn’t ya tell me you were headin’ out on a dangerous mission like that?”

“...It didn’t seem relevant. I intended on dealing with this issue on my own, and it was only through sheer coincidence that Kirby happened to be nearby.”

“More like luck. You woulda been dead right now if it weren’t for that kid.”

“That is highly unlikely,” the knight retorted. “I would have been able to escape and take them down eventually.”

“And while that happened, Dreamland mighta crumbled without ya!”

“What, are you saying that you and Kirby wouldn’t have been able to keep things in shape if I weren’t here?”

Dedede spluttered. “N- no! I just- I don’t like the idea that-” He suddenly halted when he realized they were finally at his chamber doors. He eased them open roughly, mumbling to himself. The king only spoke again when they’d slammed shut behind him and Meta Knight. 

“I don’t want ya t’get hurt is all.”

“I am a warrior. Getting injured is inevitable.”

“NO! Not- that ain’t what I meant! I care about you, ya moron! I care about all my subjects!”

Meta Knight heaved a sigh. From Dedede’s perspective, it seemed he was dismissing whatever affection he had for the Voidborn…

But truthfully, Meta Knight wished the king’s care for him was more than just a king loving his loyal subject. He wished… No, it was selfish of him to want such a thing. He should be grateful enough as it is that Dedede accepted him back after the stunt he pulled a year or so ago. 

“I appreciate the sentiment…” was all he could muster up in reply. Dedede scoffed and sat down roughly on his bed, crossing his arms. 

“I guess that’s all I’m gonna get with ya, huh? Sheesh…”

A silence fell over them. Meta Knight clenched and unclenched his fists, unsure of whether to release his cape from his grip. If he really desired affection from the king that much, then shouldn’t he at least make some effort to show some vulnerability? The least he could do was stop hiding behind his cape like a child. But no, he couldn’t even do that…

“I… was just… trying to make things up to you…” he eventually murmured. 

“...Huh?”

“I didn’t want to ask for help. This was… this was supposed to be part of my atonement for my misdeeds against Dreamland. Against… you. But I see now that was a foolish endeavor.”

Dedede diverted his gaze away from the knight, opting to stare out the window at the sunset. Again and again, he tried to forget that incident with his best knight never happened. But he kept… bringing it up! What was his problem anyway? It was a damn embarrassment, more than anything else. For BOTH of them. Why Meta didn’t want to just forget about it was beyond him. 

“I don’ really care about that, y’know. You don’t gotta keep kickin’ yourself for somethin’ I already…” He didn’t want to say he ‘forgave’ him for it. Because he couldn’t forgive someone for something that they never explained to him. He just… wanted to ignore it. Like he ignored all his problems. 

“You may want to forget it, but I don’t wish to make the same mistake again. The only way that I can end that incident is if I properly atone for it.”

Dedede clenched his fists. “Y’know what would REALLY help atone? Actually tellin’ me WHY you did it in the first place!”

“I already told you why.” Meta Knight had to resist every urge in his body to not shout back at his king. Arguing like this would not help matters. “I disagreed with the lazy lifestyle of this country and your lackadaisical approach to ruling your people. I thought I would be better suited for the throne. It was a ridiculous notion. That was all.”

“NO! No it AIN’T! That CAN’T be it!”

“WHY?” he finally snapped back, letting his cape flow loose behind him as he gestured with his arms. “What reason do you have to believe that??”

“Because I- I mean I was TRYIN’! I was doin’ better! I- I tried to stop Nightmare and I- I almost did- I-” Dedede crossed his arms and gripped the fabric of his coat. “I tried t’fight back against that Dark Matter creep and- I- I know I didn’t win, but I tried my best… I was really tryin’ to be a better king for once. And- and what do I get for it?!”

He pointed accusingly at Meta. “My best knight tries to overthrow me! NO! I DON’T get it! Was I not ENOUGH!? Should I’a just TRIED HARDER?! Oh, sure, let me just STOP MYSELF from gettin’ possessed next time! That was MY FAULT, wasn’t it?! It was MY FAULT Kirby couldn’t just keep t’themself and had to go huntin’ all across the country just cuz a couple brats couldn’t stand a few bad dreams! Yeah- I shoulda TRIED harder!!”

At this point, the king was on his feet and practically in a rage. Meta Knight clenched his fists and tried not to step back. He had to stand his ground. But… but he didn’t realize…

Well, of course it made sense. He thought that Meta Knight thought he deserved it. That wasn’t what he meant at all… but he never told him that either. 

“It wasn’t your fault…” Meta Knight spoke in a low, almost gravelly tone. “That was the entire problem.”

Dedede’s breath still huffed in rage, but he waited for the knight to continue.

“I… those things never should have happened the way they did in the first place. You hid the truth of what you did to the Dream Fountain because you didn’t think the people could handle it. You were possessed by that demon because no one was keeping a proper eye on you… No one was doing their damn job. It was JUST you… just you and Kirby… and Kirby is a mere child.”

“What’re you sayin’??”

“I- It’s not just that. There was more. So much more I didn’t even know about. I looked into the history of Dreamland, and I looked into… your past as well.” At that, Dedede flinched, imperceptibly to himself but noticeable to Meta Knight. “There was so much, so many piled up incidents that I realized… you’re not… you’re not safe being the king of Dreamland.”

Dedede grit his teeth and his eyes widened. “Are you sayin’ I’m too WEAK to handle this shit?! Are you KIDDING ME!? THAT’S YOUR EXCUSE?!”

Meta Knight backed up against the wall as the king drew closer, his utter hatred fully palpable. “N- No- that’s not what I meant at all! I just-”

“You can’t just- I can’t BELIEVE you! What do you think I am?! Do you think I’m some pathetic kid that needs t’be coddled or something?!”

“Of course not- I don’t- It’s not as if I still think that- I really did- DO want what’s best for you-”

“HA! That’s the biggest pack of lies I’ve heard in a LONG time! And that’s sayin’ something, considering how much you lie to me ALL THE TIME.” King Dedede slammed his foot against the ground, almost leaving chips in the tiled floor. Meta Knight pushed past him and ran off a few feet, trying to escape the increasingly claustrophobic atmosphere. But he was still in the same room. All he did was run closer to the bed. 

But Dedede didn’t follow him. He just… glared at his back from across the room. Meta Knight leaned over, trying to calm his hyperventilation. This never would have happened if he had just… been honest with himself. King Dedede was right… he was right about him, all along. All he ever did was lie. 

He spoke through deep breaths. “You’re… right… I’m still lying to you… even now… I can’t ever… just be honest with myself… can I..?”

Dedede didn’t reply beyond taking a few steps closer to him. He reached forward to turn Meta Knight around so he would quit hiding from him, but his hand froze in the air.

Meta’s hand reached up and unclasped the latch holding his mask to his head. The bit of hair normally tamped down by the leather sprung up… his mask… now dangled loosely by his hip.

But he didn’t turn around.

King Dedede had never seen Meta Knight’s face before. Well, strictly speaking, that wasn’t true, but they were both kids at the time. He didn’t know at all what he looked like now, or why he so desperately tried to hide his face at all times. 

What was his game here?

“You’re right… my king. I have been hiding so many things from you. I’ve been lying to you, and I’ve been lying to myself. For almost a year… maybe more…”

“Uh…” This time, Dedede was the one who had to resist the urge to take a step back. The shock of Meta Knight removing his mask, even if he couldn’t see his face, was more than enough to cool down his head. “L- look I… I didn’t mean t’- I shouldn’ta said those things. I’m sorry- I’m sure you didn’t mean it like that and I- uh- I don’t even care anymore-”

“Now YOU are lying,” Meta Knight shot back coldly. “This has been bothering you for a while. And it will continue to bother you until I speak honestly. Correct?”

Damn him… of course he was right. But he didn’t WANT to admit Meta was ever right about anything. “Look, if you drop it, I’ll drop it.”

The knight’s voice shook in a way Dedede had never heard before. “No… I really shouldn’t keep lying… I might never see you again after this. But I need you to know my most honest, genuine self before that happens.”

“Wh- wait- wait what’dya mean I might not-” He didn’t want to go THAT far! He was just a bit mad, he didn’t- 

In one swift motion, Meta Knight spun around to face his king and grabbed his face in both his hands, pulling him down to his level. He stood on his toes and practically smashed their lips together, locking them in his with an intense, almost burning warmth. Dedede’s eyes shot wide open, but all he could see was his knight’s eyes creased shut, an almost pained expression on his face.

For a split second, Dedede considered resisting… but in an instant he realized what this meant… the implications of this kiss paired with the declaration of worry for the king’s safety… to such an extent that he would try to take his place… 

It’s not just because he thought he was weak… no… it’s because he genuinely cared… about HIM. He… was in love with him.

Someone was in love with King Dedede so much that he would tear the world apart to keep him ‘safe.’

He’d never felt such a painful joy in his heart before. 

Had… had no one ever made him feel loved like this before..? Is that why it hurt so much..? Or was it Meta Knight’s misguided plan that hurt even more? Did he really misunderstand him so much that… he didn’t realize Dedede wouldn’t want something like that?

No… he knew he was wrong… he’d proved himself to Dedede twice over now. He protected this planet during the Crystal Shard Hunt, and just now, he managed to save the Mirror Dimension from Dark Mind. He proved that he could be trusted. And he’d made it clear time and time again that he knew he was wrong.

Dedede pressed his hands against Meta’s, holding him in place and leaning into the kiss. He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in this sensation he didn’t recognize.

This love he didn’t recognize.

Is this what love feels like too? This burning in his chest? This pounding of his heart? He did value Meta Knight as his best warrior up until now… and he didn’t realize they could ever be more than that. He felt as if a whole new world of possibilities had opened up to him. Like seeing color for the first time after a lifetime of gray.

If this was what love felt like, he’d be more than happy for seconds. 

Eventually, Meta Knight pulled away and gently opened his eyes. As Dedede did so as well, he was instantly struck by the knight’s face.

He was… beautiful.

Those glowing, golden eyes framed by sun-darkened skin and deep-blue locks… that deceptively youthful face contrasted against the harsh, visceral scarring… 

It was just like him, wasn’t it? Of course a person with a nightmarishly deep voice would come out lookin’ like the cutest man this side of Pop Star. He couldn’t expect anything from him, could he?

The man lowered his head, shadowing his face in his bangs. He sounded on the verge of tears as he spoke. 

“I… I understand if you never want to see me again…”

“Wh- NO! No, don’t go!” the king shouted with such desperation that it made his heart ache. He couldn’t just show him what love was and then abandon him! 

“I don’t- I- I understand- you wish to punish me, of course-”

“NO!! NO, no, don’t go- don’t leave- I- I mean- I like- I liked it!!” was all he could splutter out, baffling both of them in the process.

“You… what…?” 

“I mean I- I don’t want you to- I get it! I get it! You… oh geez…” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing up his crown in the process. He didn’t even bother to catch it as it fell to the floor. “I didn’t even realize you felt this way… man, am I dense…”

“No, my king, this isn’t your fault! I- I was hiding it from you all this time because… well, I don’t even know anymore. I couldn’t express myself properly. I couldn’t just be honest…”

“Pff- yeah, you’d rather overthrow the government than just say ‘I like ya.’ SHEESH.” Dedede harrumphed lightheartedly and plastered on one of his classic cheery grins. It was enough to make Meta Knight’s heart skip a beat… and remember why he fell in love in the first place.

He was so happy… all the time, despite everything.

“I love that about you… You really do just… manage to push through everything, don’t you?” 

“Ehaha~ I try my best!” Dedede scratched the back of his head. There was that word again… ‘Love.’

Somebody loved him… He didn’t know that was possible.

Just the very idea made him want to explode. How could he possibly turn this down? Already, the very idea of being in love made his heart race.

Meta Knight… strong, brave, beautiful, determined Meta Knight. His most valued court member, without any doubt. He’d been his best friend at the time of the Fountain of Dreams incident. That was why he trusted him with the pieces.

Even after the betrayal, it only hurt so much because he cared about him so much. Even now, he wanted him safe… The idea of him getting stuck in a creepy alternate dimension… sure, it would frighten anyone… but the whole time, he couldn’t help but think if Meta Knight would make it out alive. Wondering if he’d never see his dear knight again. Wondering if they’d end off their relationship on a tense, unsatisfied note. If they’d never get to reconcile…

It wasn’t unnatural at all, was it? Maybe he just needed it to be put into words. Even admitting it in a roundabout way was good enough, yeah? He wanted this, he realized. He wanted this. 

King Dedede laughed again. “But, uh, t’be honest, you ain’t too bad yourself! I mean, I didn’t even know we COULD be in love but… all the reasons you’re my best knight? They’re the things I like about YOU!” He placed his finger under the knight’s chin, and that gesture alone made both their hearts nearly explode. “So… I guess we’re in the same boat, huh?”

Meta Knight chuckled. “Is that how we want to phrase it?”

“Pfff, alright, since obviously YOU’RE not gonna say it!” Dedede took another step closer. “D’you wanna kiss me again?”

This time, Meta Knight hesitated.

“You’re not… you aren’t disgusted by my face?”

“What? Of course not! You look gorgeous!”

Meta Knight’s blush stickers lit up like fireworks at that compliment, accentuating the natural blush flushing his face ever-darker. He lowered his head once more and had to clench his fists to stop himself from burying his face in his hands. “Th- thank you, my king.”

“No problem ya big dork. Now… why don’t ya… uh…” Eh- heheh… as excited as he was about this, he wasn’t any good with pretty talk. This was his first experience after all. Crap, how do you say ‘kiss me’ in a way that makes someone actually wanna do it?

“Why don’t you show me that love again?”

Yeah… that seemed good enough..!

[delusion-mostly]

Regina George x Reader

Part 3/32

Warnings: kissing 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩, lotta fluff

Word count: approx. 1,500

"There is nothing to talk about?" You laugh out, hiding your irritation in a chuckle.

"No. There is," she grips your hand, "I judged you way too quickly when I wrote that about you. It was our freshman year right after you had asked Karen to the spring fling!"

"And Karen said no? I respectfully said 'okay, I hope you have a great time with whoever you go with'? I don't see the issue?" Your face grows more confused and curious.

"We were freshman. We didn't think that was okay. We hadn't learned that not all gay people had diseases and stuff." You give her a shocked look.

"Wow, okay, you are not making this any better. It took you until highschool to realize gay people weren't dirty?" You give her a sarcastic laugh.

"No! Not what I meant. Oh my god I'm so embarrassed." She covers her face with her hands and you quickly grab her wrists, moving them.

"No. Communicate, George. What do you mean." You look at her, practically piercing her soul to get her to spill.

"We were always told that gay was bad, we live in Illinois, Y/N. The midwest hates that stuff. To keep up looks, I always just went along with it. It's stupid," she continues her rant by standing up and pacing,

"I mean, why do we even have to label who we kiss! I kiss boys, you kiss girls, Karen kisses her cousin, and I don't even know if I would say I'm straight! Can't a girl kiss a girl every now and then without it being a little gay! Why do we have to label it all! Just fucking be you!" She stomps over to the couch and lays her face in a pillow, panting while trying to catch her breath.

"George..." you pat her back, and she sniffles before looking up at you, "you are okay. You are safe. Its okay not to label yourself. Just be a human who kisses other consenting adult humans. You, just like everyone else, do not owe anyone an explanation on who you choose to be with."

"I was such an asshole to you for no reason Y/N. I owe everyone an explanation for everything, I'm Regina fucking George. I'm a massive deal!" She sobs a little into the pillow, "I don't even know who I am. Am I nice? Am I a mythic bitch? Do I kiss boys? Do I kiss girls? I don't know!"

She still sits knelt on the ground with her face in the pillow on the couch, she quickly switches it to the knee on your uninjured leg. She wraps your leg in a tight hug, and you tug on her to sit on the couch. The mechanical whirring starts again and then stops, and your mom comes up the stairs.

She tosses you the meds, "These do cause drowsiness so Y/N may be out quickly!"

Regina gives you a concerned look, and you speak up, "I'm going to head to my room, Regina will help."

Regina helps you off the couch and offers herself as a crutch, letting you put your weight on her. She is surprisingly strong considering you are being a huge baby and dragging. You make it to your bedroom door and she opens it, setting you on the bed.

She sits in awe at your room. Tan walls covered by DIY record sleeve panels, deep green ivy strung across your ceiling and down the wall, a black tapestry of a mandala hung behind your bed. Bright red LED lights shine brightly and reflect off of your black bedding and fluffy grey blanket. Your bookshelf holds tons of books, some old, some really old, and some new. Your desk has papers upon papers stacked with drawings and ramblings. You grab the remote on your nightstand and turn the lights to a deep green.

"This is the coolest room I have ever been in." Regina smiles.

"Don't you quite literally live in a mansion?"

"Yeah but this room is all vibey and nature-y. This is so cool!" She looks at your record player.

She starts sifting through your record collection, nodding and giving approving hums at several and giving slight 'nuh-uh's at others. She finally comes over to your bed and lays by you.

"Oh my god even your bed is the best." She drops open her jaw and looks at you as you scoff and look at the ceiling.

You grab some sticky fidget toys and spend at least 30 minutes staring above you, catching and throwing them.

"How did you figure it out?"

"What?" You catch the ball that you had just thrown and look at her.

She shifts on to her side to look at you and you do your best to repeat the action.

"How did you figure out you like kissing girls? I won't say gay because, you know?" She smiles and references the conversation from earlier, "I fucking hate labels."

"Can I be so for real?" You say, she nods, "Orange is the New Black." You both laugh.

"I am so serious! One look at Ruby Rose or that chick that plays Alex? You know, the ginger from That 70s Show? One look and boom. Girl kisser." You tell her in a silly matter-of-fact voice.

"You didn't try any hands on? You didn't go out and kiss a girl?"

"Well, no. Like you said, Illinois isn't a big fan of queer people. It wasn't until sophomore year that I actually started dating around like you said in your book. Not a dig, by the way." You smile at her.

You look back up at the ceiling, and Regina places her hand in the spot between your jaw and neck, and forces you to look at her. She puts her forehead against yours as you set your hand on top of hers. You can feel how warm her breath is on your hands, and how warm your cheeks had gotten.

She shoots up, "uhm, I'm gonna choose a record!" You had just gotten Queen Bee all flustered.

She sifts back through the records and lands on one, she picks Folklore. She skips tracks until it starts playing 'this is me trying', and lays back down in the same way you were before.

She puts her hand back in its spot between your meck and jaw and shoots you an awkward smile. You lay your hand on top of hers, rubbing your thumb against her knuckles.

"Can I kiss you?"

You sit there shocked, mouth open, eyes closed, unable to respond.

"Nevermind I shouldn't have asked, that was so stupid, I'm so sorry Y/N that was really fucked up of me." She moves to get up.

You pull her back down and roll onto your back, pulling her with you.

"Wow you are strong," she reaches for your muscle as she speaks.

"Hockey, honey. Not the point," you lift her chin to look at you, "it wasn't fucked up of you. I was thinking it too, but only if you are sure."

She lays her head on your chest, you tangle your hand in her soft blonde locks.

"I just want to know... this is all so hard. I don't get it. My therapist said I need to explore myself outside of school and the plastics. I just don't want to fuck things up. I can't lose the one thing I have control over..." she starts to cry into your chest, the second time shes cried on you today.

"Sh, you're okay Regina. It's okay Regina. You're gonna be okay G." You keep repeating her name and it feels so good on your lips.

You quickly realize she was meaning the one thing she has control over is the school. You guess after last year everything really did fall apart for her.

"No matter what. If you kiss girls or not. It will be okay. You will still have control over aspects of your life. If you do like girls? Nobody will force you out. You have control over that."

She sits up and looks at you, pulling herself to sit straddling your hips. She runs her fingers through your hair and sets her hand under your jaw when she's done.

Regina slowly leans in, intertwining your fingers and pining your hand above your head. Your other hand trails down her side and makes its way to her hip. She finally, after what feels like a painful eternity, closes the gap. Every moment moves so slow, but she deepens the kiss. You can feel how warm her cheeks are.

Well that was an unexpected turn of events

[googleitlol]

Here's one of the two PoM LMK oneshots I wanted to post!

It ended up being 7000+ words help

Dove Masterlist:

Amnesia Rules

How on earth did things end up like this?

You can’t say that it’s often you get to join your friends on these sort of missions. Out of everyone in your little found family, it’s you who usually misses out on all the antics. However, after the Lady Bone Demon took over the city, you didn’t have much of a choice other than to be dragged along.

Though, maybe that isn’t the best way to put it. You would love to join your friends in their hijinks and adventures more often. Hearing about how your friends raced a hot-tempered demon or saved the weather station after the fact always has you feeling a twinge of jealousy, but you never really have the time or get the chance to be a part of those moments. Or rather, you often get held back from doing so. Why? Because of a certain irritatingly cold Monkey King.

Sun Wukong may as well be the greatest enigma in your life, one that continues to leave you perplexed. When the Monkey King first took on your accident-prone friend, MK, to be his successor, the Great Sage mostly kept to himself. Only MK ever saw him– not that you expected this centuries-old demon to integrate into your friend group all that much. You didn’t take him as someone that would leave his island paradise too often.

If you do ever get the chance to see him, the sage was often cold towards you. You’re not sure whether you did something to upset him, or if he just has a stick up his ass, but everytime Monkey King saw you, he’d just become irritated. He usually tenses up and turns away from you, and if he doesn’t flat-out ignore you, he– you’re not even sure what to call it aside from pulling unfunny pranks. Sometimes you would be planning to go visit the others on Sandy’s boat when you’d receive an unexpected call from your boss asking if you could cover someone’s shift. Other times, you’d have to rush home to deal with something broken and leaking in your apartment, leaving MK and the others in the process. It took a little while before learning the reason behind your string of misfortunes was a stone monkey with nothing better to do than waste your time. 

The worst he’s done before was leave you stranded on Flower Fruit Mountain. You were surprised when the Monkey King showed up to your apartment (you’re not even sure how he knew your address), asking for your help in taking care of a sick monkey in Water Curtain Cave. If you knew that the only ones who could let people in or out of the cave were Monkey King and MK, you would have been much more sceptical about his insistence that you were needed there. Why did Monkey King think it would be funny to leave you there while he went on his so-called ‘vacation’? The answer eludes you still. You were stuck living off his half-filled pantry solely made up of peach chips and the stone fruit itself for a week before MK and Tang stopped by for an unrelated reason about some giant dumpling.

You do admit that the break from work was nice, though. Being a paramedic is a stressful line of work, so spending a week void of the usual sirens and severely injured citizens did a lot to help clear your head. If Monkey King wasn’t so difficult to get along with, you could see yourself visiting more often for that peaceful little paradise. You really do wish you could get along with him, MK always made their training sessions sound like so much fun. One day while you were stuck on his island, you came across some origami he had done and in the moment, you thought of how nice it’d be to learn how to do it yourself. Monkey King seemed good at the art, he had an origami character for each of his old companions from the Journey to the West– though there was also a bird character, too. You still aren’t too sure who that could have been.

If you wanted to learn origami though, Monkey King likely wouldn’t be so keen on helping you learn. Not with how much apparent-fun he has in disrupting your day with stunts like that. It has gotten to the point where you barely get to spend much time with your friends. Gah– why does he hate you so much? Does he really have to go out of his way to make you drift from MK and the others? At least he can’t push you away this time, not when that would have meant leaving you to freeze over in the city. None of your friends would have let him do that.

It was pretty evident to everyone that Monkey King was annoyed to have you join them on the quest for the Samadhi Rings. Even his usually starry-eyed pupil felt the need to ask his mentor why your presence put him in such an irritated mood, but the infamous Sun Wukong has never been known for his straight-forward answers. It ticks you off how he dances around questions, especially concerning his apparent hate-boner for you. It isn’t like having you brought along has slowed down the group by any means– if anything, you’ve been great to have around! You have medical training the others don’t, and your years as a paramedic have prepared you for dealing with violent confrontations– running into the middle of a fight is an everyday sort of thing for you.

Even with Monkey King’s cold shoulder he so often gives you, things have been going well for the group as a whole (it also helped that your #1 hater is in the middle of some mystic meditation). That is, until you lost MK, Sandy, and Mei. The second you all realised they were no longer in the van, you pulled over by a cliff to figure out where they might have been left, and that only made things worse. Your group had only been stopped for a minute before a demon charged the van.

You, Tang, Pigsy, Mo, and a vegetable of a Monkey King are boxed in by whatever the hell is outside, scrambling to find a way out of this mess when the noodle chef gets the bright idea to wake up the sleeping sage with a pepper. You aren’t entirely sure how a pepper might wake up the Monkey King when the noise the demon outside is making has done virtually nothing, but then you see the damn thing! The light emanating from it is nearly as bright as the light that bursts from the Great Sage after he wakes up.

He wakes with a shout, jumping out of his seated position he’s spent the last few days in with a cocky grin. “Stand back, Master! Sun Wukong will handle this demon.” He declares loudly before knocking down the back door of the van.

You, Tang, and Pigsy all share a worried look as the Monkey King hops out of the van. Ignoring whatever the hell he just said, it’s a little vexing that he had to kick down the door to the van, though at least now the sage is awake to help take care of whoever is trying to attack you all.

The three of you (plus Mo) follow Monkey King out as he scopes out the area for the demon that was threatening your lives just moments prior. Strangely enough, nobody is there. “Master, it’s safe to come out. You too, Piglet.”

“Master?”

“Piglet?!”

You can’t help the snort that escapes you at Pigsy’s offended look. Monkey King hasn’t necessarily been extremely friendly to anyone during this trip, but calling Pigsy Piglet? That was so unexpected, it was funny. Did that pepper give the Monkey King a sense of humour?

At your reaction, Monkey King stiffens and whips his head over to you. The way his gaze zeroes in on you makes you freeze, especially with how he tenses up. You can’t help but frown a bit at the way he looks at you, worry now taking centre-stage in your mind. What, do you have something on your face? Does he not like the way you laugh now? The way he’s just– staring into your soul– what, did you offend him somehow?? Ugh, he can be so annoying in how he acts sometimes, you don’t understand how that–

“Dove?” Huh?

Monkey King’s voice is suddenly soft, just barely a whisper. With unsure steps, he moves toward you. He’s slow and careful in his movements, like he was approaching some shy woodland creature that would dash into the bushes if he moved too quickly. You share a confused look with your friends, looking between Tang and Pigsy, then down to Mo before returning your worried gaze to the Monkey King. “I’m sorry?”

“Is it really…” He reaches out to hold your face, and you almost swat his hand away. The only thing that makes you hesitate are the tears that start to build in his eyes. His hand is warm, and the strange intimacy of his thumb brushing over your cheek makes them flush a little… What is happening?

Monkey King lets out a breathy laugh, and one of the tears roll down his cheek. “Is it really you??” His smile widens, and all you can do is ponder his question with confusion. What sort of question is that–?

You don’t get  a moment to finish your thought before you’re pulled into a hug so tight, the air pushes out from your lungs. Monkey King holds you close in his arms, his head resting over your shoulder as he sighs with more emotion than you've ever heard from him before. “I don’t understand! How did you– hah, I don’t even care. You’re safe, thank goodness you’re safe.”

The entire time he’s rambling, you look to Pigsy and Tang just to find your own confusion reflected in their eyes. What the hell did that pepper do to him? Give him a new personality?! You feel so taken aback by his sudden new behaviour, you’re not exactly sure how you’re meant to respond to it. “Uh… yeah. I’m safe, I think you scared that demon away–”

You cut yourself off and let out a surprised squeak when the Monkey King starts to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. Red bursts over your face at the sudden physical affection– seriously, what is going on here?! Is this some dream?? Are you on drugs??! Or did you eat that pepper instead of him by accident? Who the hell is this Dove person that Monkey King thinks you are?! You’ve never seen him act this way with anyone before. Hell, you didn’t even take him as much of a touchy guy to begin with! Then again, it isn’t as though you spend enough time with him to really know that.

At this point, Pigsy speaks up. “Alright, that’s enough of that.” He huffs and steps over to break the two of you up. The second he does, Wukong shoots him a look that makes him step back. In a heartbeat, you’re pulled into a closer embrace that puts your face smack-dab in the middle of his chest. How much closer does he want you to be?!

“How long did the two of you know she was okay?! Do you know how much I– gah!” Monkey King looks between Pigsy and Tang, and the hurt in his voice makes you pause in your panic for just a moment, and you feel one of his hands over your head, holding you close. “If you got hurt because of me, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

A chill goes down your spine when he says that. This weird feeling pangs in your chest at those words and a hint of understanding takes over. Carefully, you push yourself away from the sage to give yourself space to breathe. “…Monkey King, who do you think they are?”

The King laughs a little at your question. “Monkey King? What happened to Peaches?”

“Peaches?” You frown, only feeling your confusion grow as the Monkey King mirrors your expression.

Monkey King observes you for a moment, his frown deepening as he grabs you by your shoulders and starts to shake you a little. “Don’t tell me… can you not remember anything?!” Ugh, what does he take you for, a maraca?? You swat the Monkey King off of you to get the shaking to stop and shoot the monkey demon a scowl. This is just great, a pepper broke the Monkey King!

“Your head must’ve gotten hurt when you got hit. I’m so sorry, Dove.” He looks down before taking your hands in his own. “I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to get your memories back.” He declares, and again you find yourself taken aback by his sincerity. You feel so used to Monkey King’s cold demeanour, all of this sudden kindness feels almost overwhelming.

Tang groans to himself a little ways away with Pigsy. “This is why you don’t wake someone up from a transcendental meditation, we broke him!” He stresses to Pigsy, grabbing ahold of his shirt to shake him in a similar fashion as Wukong did to you.

“I’m fine, Master. I haven’t felt this relieved in a while.” Monkey King brushes off Tang’s words before looking back at you. His voice gets low for a moment as he flashes you a smile. “And don’t worry about a thing, Dove, I’m sure we can find some way to jog your memory.” Ha, yup, this is getting out of hand. What, is he flirting now?? From the blush that blooms over your face in reaction to his words, one might think it was working, too.

Before you can let yourself spiral over that any longer, something in your head clicks. “Actually, I think it’s coming back all on its own.” You smile politely at the sage, stepping back a bit to give yourself some space.

His eyes light up at your words. “Really?!”

“Mhm!” You nod, though your smile feels a little strained as you gesture over to Pigsy and Tang. “That’s your companion, Zhu Bajie, and that’s your master, Tang Sanzang, right?”

Monkey King lets out a sigh of relief over that. “Yes! It’s coming back to you.”

Okay… “And, uh, I am…”

“My one and only, Love-Dove.” HUH–??

You choke on air in response to his answer. Okay, that confirms why he’s being like this. He thinks you’re some old girlfriend or something he had during the journey– but what is that godawful nickname?! It takes you a moment to recover from the mental damage that name does to your psyche. “Mmhmm, I think I remember it all now.”

“Thank goodness.” He sighs as he looks down at you with half-lidded eyes. Never did you think you’d ever see the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, look so smitten. You admit, your heart stirs a little being under his gaze, but knowing this is the same person that can’t seem to stand you normally, it just feels weird.

Before you know it, he leans in for a kiss and you slip out of his hands before his lips can make contact with your own. “Hahahahaha, anyway, uh… I think I need to ask good ol’ Sanzang a question.” Like what are you supposed to do with him now?? He won’t stay like this forever, will he? What, did that pepper wipe the last five hundred years of his life from his brain?! Oh god, MK is gonna come back from wherever he was left and he’s going to witness his mentor being all mushy with you– you can’t traumatise the poor guy like that!

Sure, you’ll admit that not getting the usual silent treatment from the king is a nice change. Plus it would be hard to deny that the way his voice dropped earlier… it definitely did something for you. And the way he snuggled up into your neck before… but it’s so vastly different from his usual demeanour! The sudden change gives you whiplash.

You’ll be honest with yourself, the very first time you met Sun Wukong, there were definitely some stirred feelings. The moment you saw his eyes, you felt your breath catch in your throat– though the feeling was short-lived after he completely ignored you. It’s a struggle to even think of the two of you as acquaintances, so this sudden change in his behaviour towards you feels so weird!

Leaving Monkey King to huddle up with Tang and Pigsy, you try and figure out what to do with him. Pigsy is the first to start suggesting solutions. “Maybe we handle this like amnesia rules, huh? We just gotta bonk him on his dumb head, and he’ll get back to normal.”

“Or giving him head trauma makes him worse.” You deadpan. “If this is what post-journey Monkey King is like, I don’t wanna know what happens if we accidentally bring back the Sun Wukong that thought he could challenge Buddha.”

Pigsy sighs with a shake of his head. “What, do you got any better ideas? ‘Cause I’m not hearing them.”

“Let’s just not rush into full-on assault, okay?!” You frown, and the noodle chef scoffs.

“Are ya sure you don’t just like him like this? ‘Cause it sure looks like he likes you.” Pigsy crosses his arms with his accusation, raising a brow of suspicion when your face flushes.

You look back at the Monkey King, who’s in the middle of looking for something to use as his staff. Yeah, maybe this version of Wukong is nicer than his usual self, but that doesn’t mean you want him to stay like this! “I– don’t know what I’m feeling at the moment, but I know I’m not damaging MK’s psyche further with this love-sick version of his mentor!”

“Okay, guys,” Tang raises his hands up defensively, “let’s just take a second to calm dOWAHHHHH–” Before the noodle-enthusiast can finish, a clawed hand pulls him back in a sharp motion. Your eyes go wide as your friend gives a panicked shout as he’s pulled up and over the cliff. The demon from before, it never left!

“Master!” Monkey King shouts, as Tang is dragged away by the demon.

Pigsy looks up in shock before turning to you and Monkey King. “We gotta do something!”

“Exactly.” The Monkey King grins with a nod. With a large branch he found in his hand, he looks over to you. “Hop on, Dove.” With his staff/branch, he taps his shoulder and gives you an expectant look.

All you can do is frown as you try to work out what he wants in your head. What, does he want you to sit on him? “…Where?” There’s no way you are balancing on his shoulders.

Monkey King only laughs over your confusion, and he gives you this cute lopsided smile. “Aw, I guess you forgot about your transformation, too. That’s alright!” Without waiting, Monkey King scoops you into his arms and grabs Pigsy with his tail before racing off in the direction the demon took Tang. You’re quick to wrap your arms around his neck for support, and together the three of you bound off.

Huh, for once, Monkey King is carrying you off towards a fight. That’s a new one.

~~~~

By the time you rescue Tang from the demon who took him, Sun Wukong isn’t any closer to remembering anything. Pigsy and Tang wanted to discuss how to get him back to normal without the Monkey King present, and since he’s been sticking to you like glue, you decide to keep him out of the van so they can plan their next move in private.

Seeing this side of him, it feels so bizarre to you. When Monkey King doesn’t hate you, he gives a lot of physical affection, which isn’t something you’re used to coming from him. He’s kept you close during the whole rescue mission and his tail is always on you somewhere, be that hanging lightly around your wrist and sometimes your waist. He even had it coiled around your leg at one point on the walk back to the van while he held your hand.

Monkey King seems so passionate about whoever this person he thinks you are, it makes you wonder why you’ve never heard of this Dove person before. Do you really resemble her enough for Monkey King to mistake you for her? It’s not that hard to see why he thinks Pigsy is Zhu Bajie, and it’s possible that Tang looks similar to the Great Sage’s master, but what are the chances that you also look like an old companion of his?

Well, maybe you could call this Dove person more than an old companion… not with the way he talks about her, at least. Well, the way he talks to you. It’s difficult to believe this is the same Monkey King that’s been so irritated by you this whole time.

“Something on your mind, Dove?” Monkey King pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to face him with a slightly worried look.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m great.” You smile, moving to sit against the rocky cliffside the van is parked by. “Just, uh… tired. We’ve been up all night and I’m pretty tuckered out.”

The sage frowns a bit as you sit, and he becomes uncharacteristically quiet. “I guess sometimes I forget how much rest you need when you’re mortal.” His voice is strangely soft as he joins you in sitting against the cliff. As he sits, he takes your hand in his and brings it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

Having him like this for the last few hours has done enough to help you adjust to having all this affection come from Sun Wukong, but you still can’t help the blush that forms when he does small things like that. You honestly find it adorable… and so not like the Monkey King you know.

As nice as this sweeter Monkey King is, you can’t help but frown when you see his expression fall a bit. “…I really thought you had died during the separation. I messed up and you paid for it, again.” There’s a sharp pang in your heart as he speaks. The regret in his voice… it makes it hard for you to look him in the eyes, and it’s hard not to feel sorry for the Monkey King. Sure, he’s relieved now because he thinks you– well, this Dove person is okay now… but that’s not you. Whoever this Dove person is, she must have really…

He looks to the ground, his eyes sombre. “It’s like I always find some way to hurt you without realising it. First it was the peaches, now this…” A heavy weight drops in your stomach, and you can’t help feeling horrible for Sun Wukong. It seems like he really loved her. Losing that sort of love can’t be easy for anyone, especially when they seem to blame themself for it the way Wukong seems to do.

Your hand is still in his, so you give it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey.” You smile and tilt your head a bit to the side and wait for him to meet your gaze. “If I really thought all my bad luck came from you, I would have gone running a while ago. But I’m still here, aren’t I? You can’t blame yourself for every bad thing that happens to me.”

You’re not really sure what you’re saying, it just comes out like an impulse. Despite his usual attitude, you can’t help but want to comfort him. You suppose this amnesia-Wukong has been nothing but sweet to you, and you’ve never seen him open up like this before.

His frown only deepens at your response, and he leans back against the cliff with a sigh, his eyes towards the dawn. “How can I not? Every time you get hurt, it’s because I took away your chance at immortality. If you die, it will be because I was stupid and impulsive and ruined your life before I even met you.”

Oh. Oh, shit.

Okay, so there’s a lot more to this than you thought. You’re quiet for a little, and sit back to watch the sunrise with Wukong as you think of what to say. The way he talks, it’s like he carries so much guilt over this person. How can you act as though you need to take on so much responsibility for someone like that? Though, if what he says is true, you find it a little hard to believe this ‘Dove’ could put whatever anger they held for Wukong aside. She apparently did more than put that anger aside, seeing how he acts around you.

Maybe that’s it, then. “I’m not sure you’re right about that.” You hum, bumping your shoulder against his lightly. “I mean, I don’t think I’d be calling anybody something as cute as Peaches if I thought they ruined my life.” You can feel his eyes on you as you continue.

“Maybe things started out messy, but where are we now?” You look back at him, barely able to even notice your hand sliding up to hold the side of his cheek until you’ve done it. “Does Dove– I mean, do I love you, Sun Wukong?”

It’s hard to read his face when you do that. His brows furrow and lips part slightly, on the verge of saying something that never leaves his mouth. It takes a second before his expression softens and he looks down with a small scoff. A smile worms its way onto his face as he leans into your touch and raises his hand to curl over your wrist. He gently moves your hand down to rest over his lips, where he places a kiss on the centre of your palm. “Yes, you do.”

His voice gets low as he answers, and you feel your cheeks flushing for the nth time since this entire amnesia-mess started. Whoo, you shouldn’t feel this hot when the sun isn’t fully risen yet. Flustered, you quickly pull your hand away and let out a quiet, albeit awkward, laugh. “Then how could my life be such a mess when someone I love is in it?” You shrug, looking anywhere but his direction as he goes quiet again.

Just as you’re thinking of some way to shift the conversation to something less personal and relationship-focused, Sun Wukong lets out a long sigh. “Jeez, Dove, you can’t just say stuff like that to me.” You can hear the grin in his voice, and before you know it, hands wrap around your waist and pull you onto Wukong’s lap.

“Master wouldn’t mind if we leave for a bit, right?” Wukong hums against the back of your neck, the touch pushing your heart to beat out of your chest. He presses a kiss against your collarbone and your breath hitches. “We could go for a little flight on our own for a bit…”

Never in your life have you jumped up to stand so quickly. “Hah! I don’t think that’s so, um…” The tingly heat from your cheeks has engulfed your face at this point. “…we probably shouldn’t– y’know… wow, it’s a little hot this morning, isn’t it?”

The entire time you struggle to find your words, Wukong has the biggest smirk on his face. “You’re right, it is kind of hot.” He agrees, joining you in standing up before untying the blue scarf that sits around his neck. “I’ve gotta find some way to cool down.”

Before you know it, the mischievous mystic monkey is slipping off his shirt. In an instant, the article of clothing is dramatically thrown to the side for Sun Wukong to show off his exposed torso. The ironically peach-shaped area of fur on the upper centre of his chest catches your eyes first, but that doesn’t last too long before your gaze begins to wander. The baggy sleeves of his shirt seem to hide his well-defined arms, his chest is broad and his stomach looks soft. It doesn’t take much for you to imagine how it’d feel to lay down with him and rest your head over him– nO, no no no! Don’t, no! The last thing you should be thinking about is cuddling up with this stupid flirty amnesiac!

It doesn’t help that the sage isn’t too shy about showing off, flexing his muscles while shooting you with a wide grin. “Wukong!” You look at him with wide eyes, unable to turn away. Never, never did you think you’d see the day where Monkey King would rip his shirt off in front of you to– what do you even call this?! Some birds of paradise mating ritual he decided to start doing?!

Wukong wiggles his eyebrows a bit, the look on his face shows that he knows exactly what he’s doing, but his voice remains innocent. “What, like what you see?” He prods, and you can’t stop the giggles that start erupting as he continues his little ‘gun show’. Jeez, this is so ridiculous! What is he thinking?!

You finally manage to turn away and bury your face into your hands. It’s impossible to stop the grin that’s wormed its way onto your face now, but you can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his little stunt is affecting you. You aren’t used to this, was he always this much of a flirt with Dove? Part of you wonders how she managed to keep herself together, you can barely keep a straight face with the way Wukong is acting now.

The moment he notices your averted gaze, you can hear him laugh. “No, no, no, no, don’t hide. I’m putting on a show for you!” He exclaims, and you jump a little when you feel his hands over your wrists.

Wukong pulls your hands away from your eyes, giving you full-view of his chest in your face. Just like that, you’re reduced to a flustered mess, tugging desperately at your arms to get away from this immovable flirt. The bashful smile on your face refuses to leave, no matter how much you want to hide it from him. “Oh my gosh, stop it!”

“You’re looking a little flushed there, Dove. Need any help cooling off?” Wukong pulls you closer while leaning in, his half-lidded eyes brimming in mischief. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s loving every second of it. Both of your laughter fills the air as you shoot one another a playful look, and just for a moment, you find yourself wishing Sun Wukong could always be like this. Fun and teasing, warm and loving.

But you doubt Monkey King will be like this when he gets his memories back, so you might as well enjoy this while it lasts. “If anyone needs cooling off, it’s you.”

“Are you saying I should take off more–”

“No!”

Gah, it’s like he wants you to be reduced to a puddle! You shake your head as quickly as you can, and Wukong huffs out a laugh. “Nope, not at all. Keep your clothes on, Wukong.” As you call him by his name, his expression drops a little, and you quickly backtrack. “I mean, Peaches.”

It’s cute to see how quickly he perks up over your use of the nickname, his smile like a sunbeam so warm it wakes the butterflies in your stomach.

Wukong pulls you into his arms, and you can’t help but melt into the hug as you return it. His skin is warm to the touch, the fur over his back and the tuft on his chest is as soft as what you imagine his somersault cloud to be. It takes every ounce of your being not to overthink how you’re against his bare chest, but dammit it’s nice! You can be sued for liking it, you don’t care.

Sun Wukong hums with content. “Ever since the day you returned my feelings, I’ve started each morning with a lighter heart.” Your eyes widen a bit at his words, and your head rests on him while he continues “Having you with me has made even my darkest days bright. Whether you use your gift or not, all I have to do is look into your eyes to put my worries to rest.”

Gift? Is he talking about your healing touch? But he thinks you're this Dove person, doesn’t he? There’s no way she could have had the same soothing abilities that you have… right?

Your thoughts aren’t given the chance to wander as Wukong continues, and a finger hooks under your chin to guide your gaze up to his own. “I can’t know how the future will unfold or what it holds, but what I can be certain of is that I want you in it. A thousand and one lifetimes is not enough to spend with you, My Dove.”

Your heart skips a beat at those words, his eyes never leaving yours the entire time he pours out his love to you. Since when could Sun Wukong be this eloquent?? What, did he have that prepared?! It’s not hard for you to see why this Dove person loved him so much, every other thing he’s done since eating that pepper has made you want to swoon. Wukong… he really loved this person. More than you ever could have guessed.

His mention of her gift nags at your mind, and you can’t help it when your brows furrow. What are the chances this person that was so close to Sun Wukong in the past had the same abilities as you. Not only that, but you’re similar enough for a Monkey King-amnesiac to mistake you for–

“What the hell is going on out here?!”

The microsecond you hear Pigsy’s voice is the moment you launch yourself away from Monkey King. Standing just outside of the van is Pigsy and Tang, and your face– that had just started to return to its normal shade– bursts into flame again. It suddenly feels like you’ve been caught red-handed, cuddling up with the Monkey King. How long have they been there?! “We weren’t doing anything!”

Sun Wukong lets out an annoyed sigh at the interruption and rests his hands on his sides. “Not anymore, we’re not. You sure you don’t wanna find somewhere more private, Dove?”

“Private?!” Tang looks between the two of you with wide eyes while Pigsy’s arms cross, and the desire to burn into a crisp from embarrassment grows with every second that passes.

The noodle chef pauses for a moment when he looks over at the topless Wukong. “Where did your shirt go?!” “We’ve gotta get him back to normal, fast!” Tang panics before making a mad dash away. “I’ll get the boulder.”

That snaps you out of your embarrassment. “Boulder?”

“It’s nothing, but I better go and help him.” Pigsy sighs before running after the scholar.

You guess they’re going with their head trauma plan after all. There isn’t much else you can think of to bring Monkey King’s memories back, and you suppose getting hit in the head can’t do too much damage to someone who’s already immortal. Still, if this works, this might be the last time you see him like this.

Turning your attention back to Wukong, you offer the sage a small smile. “Um… I just wanna say, uh, I’m glad you’re here, Peaches. It’s nice knowing you’re here with me.”

Wukong returns your smile and takes a step towards you to hold your hands in his. “It would take another one of Buddha’s mountains to tear me away from you.” His words make your heart flutter, never have you heard him so sincere in the time you’ve known him. The way his eyes look into your own do little to help, those golden irises taking in every feature of your face.

It takes you a minute to pry your gaze from his, and you let go of his hands to quickly step away to clear your throat. It feels like you could get lost in those eyes if you look into them long enough. “Anyway, we should really focus on the task at hand. We’ll need to find the others before we keep looking for the three Samadhi Rings.”

“Four rings.”

“Huh?” Four? What does he mean, four?

Before you can get your answer, a falling boulder crushes Sun Wukong, shaking the ground as it collides with the king. You jump back with a start before looking up to the top of the cliff where Pigsy and Tang look over its edge. Jeez, what is with their horrible timing?! It’s one thing for them to walk in on you hugging a shirtless Monkey King, but what the hell was he saying before they crushed him?? Was he confused? What did he mean by four rings?!

You aren’t given the chance to spiral before the boulder cracks open, and out jumps the Great Sage with a shout. The Monkey King looks up with wide eyes and a burst of flames erupts from his mouth. By the time the fire stops, the sage looks around in confusion before his eyes land on you. The second your eyes make contact, his gaze hardens. Guess that means he’s really back.

Monkey King looks down to his exposed chest, and his frown deepens. You can only just notice a dust of pink over his cheeks as he looks back up at you. “…Where’s my shirt?”

His voice is indifferent, and it takes you a minute before answering. “Uh, I think you threw it over there.” You point over to where the shirt lays, discarded on the ground.

“Thanks.” He turns away rather quickly, moving to retrieve the garment and slip it back on. His back faces you as he finds his scarf and begins tying it back on while your two friends make it back down the cliff.

Pigsy seems relieved to find a fully clothed Monkey King once they get back to you, though Tang stays cautious. “Did it work?”

You don’t turn to look at your friends to answer them, your gaze focused on the Monkey King as he finishes tying the scarf around his neck. That cold air you feel so accustomed to has returned. You try not to sound too deflated in your response. “…Yep, it worked.”

After Pigsy and Tang inform Monkey King of the eventful events of the night, you all find yourself in the van on the move once more. You still have your friends to find, on top of the Samadhi Rings– however many there are. You have an itch that wants to confront Monkey King on that, though you aren’t sure he would give you a straight answer anymore.

Pigsy is driving with Tang in the passenger’s seat up front, leaving you in the back with Mo in your lap and Monkey King sitting in the middle of the van, reading over one of MK’s books he made about his mentor and his adventures. An awkward air hangs between the two of you again, and you can’t help but hate it. Seeing this side of him again is so jarring after spending the last few hours with such a sweeter and caring Sun Wukong.

After a while, it’s hard to sit in this cold air any longer. Setting Mo down, you get up to walk over to the king. His head snaps up as you approach, and you almost flinch at his narrowed gaze. Despite the ‘subtle’ undertone of annoyance in his eyes, you gesture down to the book. “I don’t think MK ever wrote down any stories that had Dove in them.” As you speak, you crouch down to sit with him.

“What?” The name makes his frown deepen, and you try your best to give him a friendly smile.

“It’s what you were calling me.” You explain, the Monkey King’s frown fading when you do. Instead, his face twists with something akin to cringe. You barely catch the pained look in his eyes before he looks away.

His hand raises up to his temple with a groan. “I’m sorry, that must’ve been– uggh.” He grumbles under his breath, and you feel bad for bringing up the name at all. Monkey King’s posture stiffens as his other hand reaches up to support his head, he looks uncomfortable now. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad in any way.

Your hands shoot up to wave in defence. “It’s okay! It was kind of cute, if I’m being honest.” The words sort of fall from your mouth, you don’t know what else to say when Wukong… he just looks in pain. His eyes are focused on the book in his lap, so concentrated, you’re surprised his laser-eyes haven't burned through it yet. “…Maybe it’s just me, but I think whoever she was, she was lucky to have someone like you by her side.”

That gets him to give you a sharp scoff. “You’re right, maybe it is just you.”

His tone takes you aback, and your surprise is quickly replaced with a frustrated huff as you rise back to your feet. “Sure, maybe it is.” You just wanted to make him feel better, to try and move past that sour attitude he only has with you. You turn to walk away, if he doesn’t want you around, you won’t bother him anymore.

“Wait.” You stop as he calls after you, something urgent in his voice makes you freeze. When you look back at him, his hands are in his lap, clenched into fists. His eyes can’t meet yours, still focused on the book under him. “I’m sorry, that was rude.” You look down at the Monkey King, your brows furrowed as you observe him, still as stone. Even without him meeting your gaze, you can recognise the hurt in his expression.

Looking at him now, it feels as though there’s a new perspective for all of Monkey King’s past actions against you. His words from this morning echo in your mind. His declaration of love, regrets over whatever… however this Dove met her end. “I don’t know what happened. But whatever it is you’re blaming yourself for, I don’t think she’d hold it against you, Peaches.”

The name slips before you can catch it, and Monkey King’s eyes shoot up to yours before you can correct yourself. “I mean, Monkey King. Sorry.” You look away quickly– he’s obviously hurting, why would you say that right now?!

“I don’t…” You barely catch his mumbling, and you slowly look back to see his eyes looking to the side. There’s a light blush over his face as he coughs into his arm. “I don’t mind being called Peaches.”

Something deep in your chest stirs, you’re not sure you’ve seen Wukong look… flustered? It makes you smile a little, and when he catches your gaze, he smiles back.

He’s okay with the nickname, you’ll have to keep that in mind.

[akutasoda]

"it's always the wrong thing when it's me saying it"

--dan heng was one of your best friends, although maybe it should've stayed that way between the two of you. you weren't destined to be anything more than, but knowing that would drive you both further apart than ever imagined.

--warnings - gn!reader, thought to be unrequited love, fluff, angst no comfort, poor communication, maybe ooc, wc - 1.7k

--a/n: killing your wife emotionally and mentally @lowkeyren + @mitsvriii ^^ made sure he suffered plenty!

life on the express was as good as you could ask for.

traveling all across the galaxy, witnessing its beautiful sights and even helping people along the way. and all with a group of people that were the light of your life. it was truly a dream. there was never a dull day, one that you couldn't enjoy and that was really all you could ask for.

each of your companions had such a unique presence that worked so well together.

himeko was always the more mature yet so calm with whatever antic had been concocted up by namely march and the nameless. whereas welt was still just as mature yet was always too tired to deal with those same antics.

march was like a bundle of joy. her positivity was always contagious, it always got her out of the antics she engaged in. the nameless was no different, their monotone attitude still assisted march in whatever she had planned. yet they were still reasonable and even incredibly kind.

and then there was dan heng.

the silent guard of the express. when you first boarded the express, you clicked with everyone but him immediately. he was a lot more reserved and didn't immediately try to get to know you like the others.

it was really only after he noticed how much you and the other members of the express had bonded that he made an effort to try and get to know you. dan heng was wary. he wanted to see how the others perceived you before he made his own judgment.

some may say he was trying to find something to get you kicked off the express but he wasn't trying to be negative, at all. he could argue that welt was more cautious than he was but atleast welt was more present while you adjusted to life on the express. if dan heng was asked to help you with something, he would but otherwise he wouldn't go out of his way to talk to you.

eventually, however, he did come round to you. once the surface had been broken, it didn't take long at all for you to get just as close to dan heng as the rest of the express crew.

he was a rather calming presence to be around. the conversations you could have with him were endless, time spent with him was never wasted and even if he didn't mean to, he always made you smile.

---✩

it didn't take long before dan hengs “room” became your second room. from your first day on the express you were assigned a personal room like the rest of them, yours to customize how you want and spend your nights or days in.

but ever since your friendship with dan heng started to blossom, you found yourself accompanying him to the data bank - it was technically his room, the scruffy pile of blankets and pillows were really the only sign of someone actually living in there.

your evenings soon became reduced to sitting beside dan heng in the data bank, watching and listening to him as he inputted new entries or updated old ones. seeing all the the different experiences the express had was truly worth admiration.

the data bank was a permanent record. a library of all the things the express had been through and found, a permanent memory. and dan heng was in charge of keeping it organized and up to date - which he did diligently and perfectly.

some of the entries interested you greatly, in response, dan heng showed you them in full - compared to the ones that you weren't so keen on which he simply summarized for your convenience.

although more so lately, this time between the two of you had become less about looking through the databank and more into casual chatter between the two of you. more personal.

even the rest of the express where surprised with how much dan heng opened up to you - he'd known them longer and yet you seemed to know more about him. not that it was a bad thing. some of them, namely himeko, were just happy that he seemed to finally have someone he cared about that much.

somewhere along the line, march started joking about how you and dan heng were “practically attached by the hip” and she would be right. the joke eventually caught on with how if one of you were in the vicinity, the other wouldn't be too far away.

but it made you hyper aware. suddenly you started realizing just how much time you spent with the astral express’s guard. the times he made you smile, all the conversations you had with him, the warm fuzzy-

oh.

you had a crush.

a major crush. on dan heng.

the thought made you flush with embarrassment had anyone noticed? had he noticed? did he even feel a small fraction of the same thing for you? maybe you were just thinking too much into it…

but it was eating you up inside. dan heng didn't exactly seem like someone looking for a relationship and you hated thinking about it because it meant that your feelings would never be reciprocated. it hurt. hopefully you could push it all away, move on and just keep your friendship with dan heng - you didn't want to ruin anything, even at the cost of your own feelings.

however, that was easier said than done. every time you were with him, all you thought about was the possibility of him reciprocating your feelings - and it wasn't looking good for you. you needed to move on, there was no way, if dan heng was looking for a relationship, that he'd go out with you.

very quickly it became very apparent that you needed closure to move on. either your feelings would be harshly crushed or reciprocated. although the former was more likely…

but you wanted an answer, anything to help you move on.

---✩

it was late. you both knew that but you had a question plaguing your mind for far too long and you needed a good nights sleep soon. so you figured now would have to be the time to ask it.

“dan heng” you called out and he turned away from the data bank to face you fully, slightly tilting his head and letting out a short “hm?”

you took a deep breath, trying your best to fight pff the nerves, “would you… uh.. ever consider me, us, as something more than friends?”

you couldn't bear to make eye contact with him, the silence was so loud until he broke it “no.”

oh how you wished for the universe to swallow you whole right then and there. but he continued “why do you ask?”

“oh no reason” your voice tapered off toward the end before you abruptly stood up “goodnight dan heng” quickly walking away and back to your room - fighting the tears that threatened to spill at any time soon.

but what you didn't know, what you'd never know, was that he lied.

ages ago, before you even realized your crush, march kept teasing him about how close you two were. amongst her teasing came the blatant question “do you like them?”

at first, dan heng adamantly denied it. you two were just close friends, nothing more. march knew better however and she took great pride in teasing him, listing out all the instances were you two could've been mistaken as lovers - and then it hit him.

but he still refused. denied everything. there was no way he had a crush. it wasn't that he didn't want to have a crush on you, it was just the fact that he wasn't ready. dan heng couldn't bear to imagine the vulnerability that would give him. it was something he didn't want to think about.

so he pushed all his feelings to the back of his mind and tried to convince himself that it wasn't true. even if it hurt him.

a part of him hoped that he was thinking too much into it, that you wouldn't like him back, purely so he could get over it. he could move on and keep his friendship with you as is, removing the chance of that vulnerability ever getting out.

he loved you.

but he couldn't admit it. dan heng could go on and on about you, talking about you like a lovesick fool but he wouldn't. he couldn't.

he wished he could. to have that confidence to admit it to you but he hadn't.

he'd refused your advance against his better wish, and now he'd hurt you. pushing you away forever.

---✩

“are you sure you want to do this?” himeko stared at you, the sadness in her eyes evident

glancing over through the window of the express’s parlor car, you smiled and nodded. you had to do this. to let go “i'm sure”

some may say leaving the express was a dramatic reaction but you had actually found somewhere you'd like to go but didn't want to leave the express - that was until dan hengs brutal rejection. you couldn't face him anymore and it was too awkward to even be on the same train.

himeko sighed “alright, please take care-”

“and stay in contact!!” march interrupted practically barging himeko out of the way.

dan heng watched, silently, from the doorway connecting the parlor car to the personal rooms. he had so much to say, so much to get off his chest and tell you-

no. he needed to let you go. even if it hurt him because he only ever hurt you.

rest of the "series"

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn, @https-sourlimes

[honeycreammilkshake]

If that leak is real Gege may really want a sequel that has Sukuna but NOT yuji lmao, sorry Gege, I LOVE Sukuna but Sukuna without Yuji doesn't sound good, he is a good character but the rest of the cast is.....I still don't get why it was so hard to understand the huge appeal Sukuna/Yuji duo had.

Same with Yuji without Sukuna, standard safe ending with a trio safe ending, sorry I don't like those anymore

100% with you, anon. even if you don't ship sukuita, you can't deny sukuna and yuuji had one of the most fascinating relationships between a protagonist and an antagonist.

they both hate each other so deeply, but everything between them has always been much more personal than when they're fighting others. and sukuna definitely gives yuuji special treatment. he uses kozou almost exclusively for yuuji (and the one time i believe he doesn't, he's still referring to megumi as the "other" brat) to the point where it's almost like a pet name.

and what is so interesting about this is that sukuna so dismissively calls megumi "brat," in a way that i feel is trying to disassociate yuuji from the word.

there's a reason why i think of this as the sukuita divorce era and that is mostly because of how sukuna keeps claiming to not need yuuji any more, always trying to sideline yuuji in favor of others, but he also can't seem to stop obsessing over yuuji and making everything about the guy he supposedly finds boring and worthless. sukuna goes out of his way to praise/compliment others during their fights, so that everyone but yuuji (who he only ever admires in his private thoughts) seems to get some kind of in-depth commentary on their abilities, while sukuna merely insults yuuji (rather weakly, too). it's even funnier when sukuna unironically can't stop making everything about the brat even when yuuji isn't there, because when sukuna's fighting maki he still manages to frame his admiration of her skill in a way that insults yuuji, despite the fact the boy isn't even there so why does it have any relevance at all??

not only that, but sukuna loves to torment yuuji, dragging his cruel taunting out in a way he doesn't do with others. he deliberately changes back to let yuuji see the devastation of shibuya, because sukuna understands how much the needless death of strangers and innocents impacts yuuji.

and he also makes a big deal of how little he thinks of yuuji, how unthreatening and boring the brat supposedly is to him shortly after possessing megumi's body.

what's really interesting here is how, despite a chance to kill yuuji, sukuna still doesn't. in fact, he's had multiple chances to get rid of yuuji but still he keeps the brat around. maybe he finds yuuji a more worthwhile opponent after all. maybe he even wants yuuji to remain alive till the end of it all, if only to see the brat suffer through the breaking of all his ideals.

there's also the matter of how sukuna can't keep his hands off of yuuji, almost as if he misses the closeness he had when yuuji was his vessel. it's far more intimate and physical than it needs to be.

this panel in particular really showcases sukuna's overall feelings toward yuuji. he's cradling the back of yuuji's neck, almost tenderly, as he pounds his fists relentlessly on the side of yuuji's head.

yuuji drives sukuna to such violent reactions because sukuna's on the defensive with him. they both get under each other's skin and ignite a hate far more consuming than others bring out in them.

and the way yuuji also fights sukuna is so unnecessarily up-close and physical as well.

the raw emotion of yuuji beating into sukuna, his crazy side really showing in how rough and unmerciful he is right now.

sukuna draws out the worst in yuuji just as much as sukuna arguably drew out the best in him, too. if it wasn't for swallowing that cursed finger and becoming the vessel of the king of curses, yuuji wouldn't have started down this path of working so hard to save other people's lives. as he himself said, he'd never before considered putting his own strength and talents to use helping others, and never before had he considered he might be the only person capable of doing so, but seeing how sukuna caused so much devastation and death drove yuuji into becoming a fighting force for good.

and just like sukuna brings out so many overwhelmingly strong feelings in yuuji, the boy does the same to him as well. sukuna is at turns extremely aggravated and enraged because of yuuji, and surprisingly pleased because of him as well.

sukuna can keep talking big about how uninteresting and inferior yuuji is yet the moment yuuji comes into view, sukuna is all psyched up for their fight....

he even looks excited and pleased to fight with yuuji again even though he claims to have no interest in the brat .... not fooling anyone sukuna ( -. -)

sukuna also can't seem to stand yuuji looking down on him with "pity" which sparks a much more violent reaction than he had with other people when they suggested sukuna was lonely and unfulfilled with his life, or even tried to "force" sukuna into thinking like them.

i think my biggest disappointment with this series overall is how gege chose to focus so much less on these two and their dynamic. i hated it when yuuji kept getting relegated to the sides over and over, and i also didn't like it when sukuna kept having rather pointless fights with everyone but yuuji.

the fact that yuuji suddenly wanted to offer sukuna mercy and even connect with him despite hating and despising his very being before was also such an unexpected twist that i would have loved gege to expand on and give a little more context and feeling behind.

i think, with a relationship as fascinating and complex as theirs, focusing more on it would have only made jjk even greater. but sadly, gege chose not to do that. and i feel like that why a lot of the recent chapters have been rather disappointing.

thank you so much for your ask, anon! sorry for the rant i came back with.

[lost-estradiographer]

I

know that voting for the status quo sucks.

To say it "sucks" massively understates the exact amount of suffering that exists under the status quo, an amount that I acknowledge I am too privileged to ever fully grasp.

I cannot magically provide some viable third-party candidate just barely a month before the election. I cannot solve Israel/Palestine Conflict that has haunted the world for over 70 years. I am a 29-year old transgender woman working her way through her own mental illnesses, trauma, and an undergraduate degree. I was never going to be the one to solve anything here.

All I can tell you is that regardless of whether you vote or not, there will be a presidential election. It's going to be a shitshow, regardless. Whether you vote or not, there will be a different president in January. Voting for the status quo may not be directly in your interests.

We had four years of Trump and we are still trying to unfuck ourselves from that. The beginning of my antagonistic relationship with the government was protesting in the streets of DC under his administration. I've fled from the Metro PD. I've put on a change of clothes and slipped out the back door of a gay sports bar.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Honestly, I

I don't want to see this voter apathy shit anymore.

People are going to keep dying under any president. Any president can, and probably wil, be morally culpable for the deaths of innocent people, both in the country and abroad. Carter might be the last president we had that wasn't overtly a war criminal and we still had foreign civilians killed by U.S. military involvement under the Carter admin.

I'm torn between asking you to block me, or asking you to message me, if you're taking the route of voter apathy. I'll tell you right away, here and now, that I probably don't have a solution to whatever problem is keeping you from voting for Harris. I can't even solve my own problems right, tbh. The government isn't really here for me, either.

But there isn't going to be some sort of miraculous revolution that results in The Ending Where Everyone Lives. If there's a revolution, then supply chains will falter and children and the infirm will die of preventable diseases and infections and complications in hospitals that would have otherwise been able to easily deal with such things. That's what happens in a revolution. I'm after the long-term idea where Humanity as a species lives. I'm after the route where we don't have an ending, we keep going.

Fucking vote, because exactly one of the two leading presidential candidates believes climate change is real, and it is the single greatest threat to all life on earth. We have spent the past 250 years, not just playing God with the environment, but actively creating an ecological niche in which future generations of humanity must continue to play God with the environment, dragging it back to a healthy place drop by drop, inch by inch, a degree at a time.

Or, I mean, don't vote. Either way, we'll all die at some point. Perhaps some of us will be lucky enough to die standing by our principles.

Those lucky few will become soil one day, just like I will.

I am begging you on my hands and knees to fucking vote, though, because our options are The Status Quo vs. Worse. That's

That's it.

There is no door number three right now. Our system, our flawed and broken and imbalanced and unjust system, does not accommodate for a third door. Whether you vote or not, you will be dragged through either Door 1 or Door 2 with all of humanity, as we whirl through the cosmos upon our tiny little speck of dust. The only other legitimate option is to allow oneself to become trampled; to become soil early. I don't say legitimate to give this option legitimacy, but to make clear that again, there is no door three. Door three is a casket. A one-way bed.

I didn't vote in 2016, and I'm hoping that you'll vote for the status quo this time, because that's the route that gives me the best odds of having a long and healthy life to regret my failure through inaction.

Just please

Fucking vote.

Or again, if you're taking the apathy route, probably just save me the time of blocking you, because you're not going to magically pull a viable third-party candidate out of your pocket less than six weeks before the election.

[thinkingmystic]

How to deal - pick-a-card tarot reading

Take a second to look at the three cards above. Does it feels like one has a message for you? Card reveal and message below the break!

If you chose the first card... 1 of Water / Flow (Ace of Cups)

You may not like this message, but the best way to deal right now is to surrender. Not partially, not conditionally, no Ts or Cs - just surrender to what's happening and trust that the Flow of life will deposit you on better, happier, and safer shores. Surrendering, like meditation, looks passive from the outside. But if you've sat down for ten minutes to meditate, you know how much focus it takes; it's an active and engaging process. It's the same with surrendering, and surrendering is a key part of meditation.

Meditation and mindfulness will help to keep you in a flow state, and help you recognise those moments where you're trying to paddle upstream. No one doubts your determination. But for the moment at least, you've done what you can. It's time to let the Universe unfold its part in this story

If you chose the second card... 11 of Water / Imagination (Page of Cups)

When we're going through a difficult time, it can feel childish and naive to imagine that things may turn out better for us. We are pressured - or we pressure ourselves - to be more realistic. The ironic thing? When we throttle our imagination - which is really, fundamentally, an act of hope and faith - we stifle the exact energy we need to be drawn up from the depths of apathy, ennui and despair.

Emotions that numb us cannot alchemise change. So when we feel like we are stuck in a particular emotional rut, imagination becomes the light and the process of helping us find the energy and focus to get us moving again.

If you chose the third card... 19 of Spirit / Joy (The Sun)

In my mind's eye I'm seeing one of those videos where they drag a strong magnet across what looks like plain sand, only for fine filaments of iron to be drawn out. Joy is like that. Ma Deva Padma talks about how Joy arrives without fanfare, and so we often miss it. One of the ways to "magnetise" ourselves so we can draw out grains of Joy from life, especially when we're having a difficult time, is through being grateful for the good things we do have, even if they feel miniscule compared to the good things others seem to have, or what society says we should have or be.

It's a cliché, but comparison really is the thief of joy. I suppose that's why it's a cliché because it's so true. Focus on yourself and your own life and the small things that shine light into your dark moments. Look for small ways to do the same for others, to light up their lives - and you may find the darkness decreasing rapidly.

Deck: The Sacred She Tarot

[snallavanta]

kinda ironic how i studied communication, yet suck at doing it in real life

[aceredshirt13]

gang i have to share this P. G. Wodehouse quote with you all because ever since I found it I can't stop thinking about it. it's from a letter he wrote when he was 78 years old to his friend Guy Bolton (many thanks to P. G. Wodehouse: A Life in Letters)

I have been on the sick list myself, but am better now. Inflamed bladder or chill on the bladder or something, the symptoms being agony when I passed water, as the expression is. It brought back the brave old days when I used to get clap.

he really said "yeah the pain from my bladder issue reminds of the days when I used to have so much sex I repeatedly got venereal disease"

[seaofreverie]

I listened to a new Sparks album and it was all I could think about for two weeks straight afterwards, a.k.a. My Hello Young Lovers Review

Okay, so here's my fabled review (I mentioned having written it once about three months ago, so I guess there's a chance that someone still remembers that). It's hecking long (seriously, it's long.) and consists mostly of me pointing out specific sections of the songs and raving about which specific elements of the songs I particularly like. And also attempting to make some sort of general statement on the style / atmosphere / themes etc. of the whole thing. I wrote this back in november, after 5 full listens of the album, over the course of about a week, and I didn't update it with any new opinions that I have formed since, to keep it true to that original form, besides some side notes where I thought they'd be useful to add. I hope you enjoy my yapping, however unprofessional and all over the place this whole thing probably is.

How to start album reviews? Well, I could sum up the general vibe / thing / feel / theme with the album but that seems much more fitting for the conclusion of the whole thing.

So let's kick this off with the first thing we see instead!! The album cover, the sleeve! (note: I got this album on vinyl for that first listening experience, the 2022? reissue) Ohh so pretty and cute, isn't it? Even inside, so much pink, even over-the-toply-so (for real though, I didn't even really think about what to expect from the inner cover, besides some photos that I knew would be there, but it was certainly not THIS. level of pink and cute), it looks so pleasant and sweet, doesn't it? And the band photos too, fun times all around!

Oh wow, ok, let's get back to reality here, I knew what I was in for (knowing just one track and excerpts of other two + reading misc comments on the album before already, as it is inevitable, you know. And frankly, that was actually the exact right amount of info from that commentary for a peak enjoyment here. Not going in totally blind but still encountering many surprises). This is a prime and, imo, very well executed example of mood dissonance. In a way where, idk, maybe it comes from me still having this even small amount of info beforehand, but it's the kind of situation that you can actually tell that something is off.

So yeah, the visual aspect of the album does fit it and I'd even say it does so VERY well, but as to how and why, maybe I should start exploring the atmosphere and themes and elements of individual songs first so we can make more general conclusions from that! So yes, I think it's time to dive in!

1) Dick Around ▪︎

Shortly put, amazing, showstopping and life changing song. And one of the earliest ones for me too! As a part of the extremely important and memorable playlist (note: my first time hearing a bunch of random popular sparks songs), it appeared somewhere in the latter half on the mix and oooh boy, was hearing this song for the first time, on the road in the dark evening too, an experience. I certainly found it intriguing to say the least, maybe I wasn't yet completely SOLD you know, and let's not forget that the second time I heard it (july) it actually kind of freaked me out in a way, but still, it certainly made an impression immediately. There's a reason this is one of the more well known / popular / important songs of theirs overall. This song is truly a journey and it messes with you in so many ways, oooohhh so many ways. I was super looking forward to hearing it again properly after being teased with some parts of it in the more recent weeks, so ok, maybe this is where I get to the individual parts I want to talk about.

Actually wait, first let's maybe say something about the placement. Of course it's the first song as I was pretty much certain it would be (and maybe already had kind of possibly spoiled..?), and it does work incredibly well as a mood-setter for the rest of the album, so it truly couldn't work any other way in my view. So yes, speaking of parts, there are so many different ones! Hearing this again was extra fun also because I would remember the main "point" / mantra of the song ("all I do now... is dick around") but not much else, then be reminded of another notable but very different part, then listen after this whole time properly on pretty much repeat now and be aware of those other little touches and bits that bring it all together...

So, let's start with the pleasant vocals & piano break near the beginning, it's, well... I just really like it (I hope I'll be able to say more specific things about other elements in these songs that I think need to be mentioned as I go on LOL), and right after that we have some very nice strings, then, suspenseful strings!! Idk why but I really really like it when those come in, they really set the unnerving classical tone that follows and returns throughout the album, then the same "calm" / bouncy vocal melody and a more "all over the place" piano returns (at least from what I remember, the notes are sort of more expansive in range in this part I think...). And soon enough... we reach the real moment of the song when it gets, well, real. And very intense. And this is almost jumpscare-like, ohhhh it's so good, even when you know you can expect it it still hits the spot amazingly.

So this is the rocking part that's honestly pure distilled joy and amazement to hear for me each time, the repeated echoey "hey hey"s for a second there are just the icing on the cake, so so so good. And, in fact, it doesn't get more rocking than this for the rest of the album. Dissappointing? Maybe it WOULD be, if there weren't other things still going on later, which were also in their own ways showstopping, so I think that yeah, those can make up for all that follows not really coming close to this level of unhinged. And this is the right word here I think, unhinged!! Damn, this freaking song. Like for a second there I remembered that in one of my early-ish hearings I just found it almost uhhh, unbearably raw? Idk if it's the right word but yeah, it gets... ugly for a second (I need to stop cringing at every more unusual / to the point word I use or I won't be able to write any genuine reviews in my life). Before going back to the main mantra of course! And then it goes on in a circle a bit more again, with more changes and some progression of the story and all that. And end on the mantra again. I don't know if I'm leaving out any super important bits here, I might be... Well, it comes back to full on rocking near the end too, with some variation too, so that's awesome! And very suspenseful and unnerving strings too for a moment!

So, should I talk about the lyrics / the story just a bit now? Ok, I won't go super deep into these or any of the following ones, I'll try to focus more on specific bits and the feelings that come with them and a general "theme" if anything. So, I think this song and its story is very engaging and I like it a lot and it certainly provokes further thoughts and ponderings, those 6 and a half minutes fly by super fast (guess that's just the power with sparks and their long songs, it's kind of incredible how maybe this goes ESPECIALLY for songs that rely a LOT on repetition, because those might work this trend the best), lots of variation, while still keeping some prominently repetitive / reoccurring parts balances it very well. You're really just thrown from one part to the next with this song. Ok, I wrote a lot about just one song and I feel like there's still more I could say if I thought about it hard, but let's move on now, we don't have all day (night)...

2) Perfume ▪︎

This is a favourite. An instant favourite. Right away this song grabbed me with its subdued, brooding and honestly pretty dark tone and sound. Low vocals, kind of ragged but driving guitar sound, and the DRUMS. They do SO much for this track, something about this specific drum pattern / style is very pleasant to me, very atmospheric. It's like a specific pattern that works to deliver some kind of effect (ok, I think through that, in a way, I just described the whole thing with repetition in sparks' music, especially in this era, nice, I guess that's how I view it and why it works so well) there's still a lot of interesting stuff going on there, plus it just sounds nice, idk. Once again, maybe "driving" is a good word for it. But now I need to mention that there is this one odd-one-out part that sounds much more cheerful, or maybe hopeful (and it returns again near the end). Because it has this specific thing, the different intonation of the SAME lyrics than the rest of the song ("and that's why...") feels strangely emotional. It certainly hit ME in the feels once I noticed it, so, yeah!!

So I think this is one of the darkest songs in mood and sound, while it also has something extremely COOL about its sound that I can't really categorize, I think I'm gonna feel like repeating this for every other song on the album but it just feels so CLASSIC, it's that typical song that always existed type of feel, yeah. But here it's less so due the melody necessarily, and more due to the whole picture. With some others it's also the song as a whole of course but they don't necessarily feel as much as a representation of a whole THING / genre / type of song / feeling in music of sorts (I'm really bad at articulating my exact views on these, am I not...) rather than those specific special moments that just bring it all to the next level. But OHHH I can't believe I almost forgot this, but the piano lines (I mean the post-chorus ones specifically) in this song, oh my goddddd!!!!!!! They're truly THE thing that sold me on this song completely, they're just so... something. So I guess this song also has that special "it" moment after all, doesn't it? Well, still possibly not quite as prominently as the next one, because...

3) The Very Next Fight ▪︎

Well, this is the kind of song that's completely made up of those specific parts making a very special whole. Starting with, of course, that melody line during the chorus "it's always the same. It's always the same". But maybe, just to be fair, I should actually start with where the song actually starts so, well, hmmm, the beginning. The very solemn piano and overall kind of heavy atmopshere here kind of slows down the momentum after the first two songs, and it delivers something quite different instead. So yeah, well, that chorus melody!! Oh wow!!! Isn't it so simple though? But it works so well!! It's simply beautiful honestly. It absolutely is! And later the electric guitar comes in for more effect and oh wow, it feels so incredible, yeah. And then some more solemnity with the... I think harpsichord?

This track feels very empty (as in the atmosphere, I'm not actually calling it empty as a bad thing or something like that, no no no!!) in some parts, then it has those emotionally charged bits, and let's not forget that it has some more really amazing guitarwork near the end. That kind of guitar "wailing" sounds beautiful in its own right too, it also kind of reminds me of some other rock-adjacent genre(s), I can't tell what exactly though...

4) (Baby, Baby) Can I Invade Your Country ▪︎

In all honesty, after my first listen I decided that this was probably the song I was the least impressed by? Kinda strange, yeah, because I no longer think that, and yeah, it was another one that I was only slightly familiar with already. Very slightly. It's a very interesting song once again, I think it's really unique after some thought actually (as are most all of the songs on this record tbh, obviously). It's unique, but it once again has this special classic quality to it that just feels like it represents a very specific type of sound.

I wanna say that the chord progression in the chorus might be some variation of one of the "usual" progressions although OF COURSE I might be very wrong here, it's just the feeling I get because maybe it's worth mentioning that 1) a while ago I started noticing this one type of progression in songs that made them sound very similar to Kiss Me, Son of God (They Might Be Giants song), so I figured it must mean that KMSOG is just in some kind of typical progression that is used a lot, especially in country-sounding songs from my experience 2) there was also an element of some classic rock / rock&roll (?) / punk (??) songs that also made them sound very alike after a while when I started listening to this one internet radio station recently, idk if it's the same progression or its variation or if all those songs use different variations mostly but are still based on a very similar thing at the end of the day, but yeah. I might still not understand chords or be able to catch them while listening, but there's now at least a little part of that whole section of music theory that I might be able to recognise in music just by myself, so that's some major music literacy development on my part I think... Anyway, maybe the progression in this song didn't even remind me of that usual pattern specifically, but it just made me think of that thing nevertheless, maybe it's similar, maybe it's not... So this was kind of an irrelevant tangent on my part, oops.

So ok, let's get to the jist of this... What exactly I like about this song and such, or just what I wanna mention. Well, I wanna mention that this is probably one of the more repetitive songs, also one of the longest I think, maybe the third longest, I wouldn't be surprised by that (the opener and closer are both pretty tough competition in the length department) but it doesn't feel monotonous, it flies by super fast, once again.

I think it's also possibly the brightest sounding song on the record, the word that immediately sprung to mind here is "triumphant". Certainly fitting with all those awesome horns!! They're truly what really sets this song apart. I'm especially a fan of the horns in the bridge part, I think it's the bridge. Sooo so cool sounding, kind of "descending". I also really like the layering of the different vocals and their melodies and such, the acoustic guitar also brings it all soooo nicely together, it's so pleasant sounding, especially in the quieter "baby, let's invade" part.

Idk what else to say, very awesome song though and I definitely don't mind listening to it twice (with the repeat as a bonus track, which I'll also get to briefly at the end) at all, in fact this might be the least "intrusive" song in a sense, so that makes the best choice for a repeat, if I had to choose, I could see myself going with this one, it's just very pleasant all around.

5) Rock, Rock, Rock ▪︎

So things get real once again, huh. This is one of the songs that I count in the category of kind of sick and twisted but in a way where I only respect them more for making it, so that puts it right next to, hmmmm, sherlock holmes for sure, maybe some others I can't think of right now. Big part of that factor is surely played by the repetition which just works, well, very well. Specifically the choruses.

One part of this song I was pleasantly reminded of on my first few listens were the short strings interludes, they really give it some of that pleasant classical feel (a separate thing from what i describe as classic feel here!) that I could say kind of contrast with the song and its atmosphere in general. Or maybe spruce it up, idk, we do have very dramatic strings during the verses too... The very deep drum sound is also pretty prominent in this track I think, pretty great.

As to some more notable parts in the vocals department... Let's just say that the way Russell says some words is very, uhhhhhh, effective (i think this sounds more cursed than it should, but i mean exactly that, the delivery just really hits you... and other times it's kind of silly instead). And also, with that repetition and it creating something great in mind, there's the repeated "and since you put-" part near the end that's also really great. The repeated "I"s in the bridge I think also need a mention. It's like they know exactly what word / phrase to repeat, what amount of times, and in which part of the song for it to work the best, like the perfect placement and number.

I think this song also has a bit of a fake ending, so that's also something of note, especially when it's supposed to sound as dramatic as possible (at least that's the idea I get from it). And actually, oh, so does the previous song! I forgot that part even though it's even more noticeable / memorable in that song than it is here imo.

6) Metaphor •

Second half of the album starts off with something that's very elegant and all the while very pleasant and melodic, all of which makes it a very nice track, even in a more usual pop song sense. Some very cool piano to start things off, and the electric guitar accompaniment, which also enters pretty early on. And then we have that slightly more strange part, kind of like an early bridge, that honestly has a bit of a comical effect imo (with no disrespect intended!!)? As in, I find it kind of funny and silly personally. Yeah, the "who's up for a metaphor" part, especially when we get the repeated "don't don't"s and "we we"s, and, well, what follows is what's definitely the greatest part(s) of the song, when Russell enters his falsetto mode and we get the "aaaaa-ªªªªª..." etc. backup vocals in choruses. Those are the moments of the song that are just, well, ONCE again that classic factor that makes the melody & everything else super special. But more specifically, I think those parts are just kind of beautiful. Yeah, I'd say this song is the prettiest in sound that this album gets overall. Truly wonderful and gets you excited for the remaining songs.

Meanwhile, the spellings of dig as d-i-g might feel kind of random I guess? But it works. Adds variety or whatever (note: it's also a very good moment of a rhythm change I believe, I think now that's what makes it sound as cool and satisfying as it does). So yeah, kind of a heavenly song I think, in a sense, also one of my top faves just for that factor (note: this song is now probably my favourite on HYL, and also among my top fav Sparks songs overall. It wasn't instant, but it grew on me quickly and oh man, I truly love this song so much now)

7) Waterproof •

I think this is kind of an odd-one-out actually? And why? I think it's probably the closest on the album to being sort of a fully, or at least MOSTLY, "normal" song. It doesn't have so many parts that are just downright weird and unexpected I'd say, it's just kind of friendly instead compared to the other ones (note: it took me perhaps too long to realize that this song just doesn't have quite as much repetition, which most other songs here rely on heavily, so that's definitely what makes it stand out the most). Not that it's an entirely bad thing! Sometimes you gotta slow down and relax a bit I guess...

I do appreciate the kind of sudden switch with the "the sky is starting to cloud up" part, and the little orchestral bit right after the first time the aforementioned switch happens (the second? or generally some later time it happens again there are also some very awesome horns! Really starts feeling like a quaint rainy street in some french town or something...) when, well, I was going to say that the vocals and the strings do the same melody, but they actually don't, at least not fully, still though, I did have that illusion before I made sure it wasn't the case with another relisten, either way, when it DOES happen, and Sparks do that a whole lot I feel like, it's always quite awesome, I mean, syncing the vocal melody with some other prominent intrument's melody...

The I think harpsichord also makes a return, yay! And then there's the guitar part, that does have some real surprise factor when it comes in, but this time for sort of the opposite reason - it sounds bright and nice this time around, and also it reminds me of Sparks' later style tbh, specifically in their following more rock-centric songs of course. And I think that's very nice, we see the always progressing evolution of their sound here I think. That guitar bit also has some album closer vibes, that kind of fake closer (or nearly-closer) situation kind of reminds me of a similar thing I experienced with Bon Voyage on Propaganda for example (note: I have since learned that Bon Voyage IS the closer on Propaganda, and the following two songs on streaming are just b-sides. So it makes sense that it would sound like an album closer because it IS one).

Annnddd the last thing that I just can't forget about here is Russell's another epic falsetto moment (waterwatereverywherebutnotadroponme!~) that part actually makes me smile. Yeah. Legit. I paid attention and I did smile on that part during my relisten today. ... Ok, let's go on.

8) Here Kitty •

When this song came on the first time during my vinyl listening I of course instantly knew exactly which song it was (bcs I've heard the title before, and a few words on it too) and had this little amused "oh no" moment. And, well, turns out this song is actually very awesome and veeeery interesting! It adds something really unique to the album. I saw someone call it quite impressive in the vocals / vocal lines layering department recently (in the last week, so already after hearing it myself I'm pretty sure) and I absolutely agree.

First off, let's settle that - this is a very strange song. But that's exactly what makes it so good of course. The strangeness keeps you so distracted from this fact, that when we reach the bridge of the song you suddenly realize that beneath all the "tatata"s, meows and unsettling rising piano notes we have the very much usual song structure with verses and choruses. Yeah, I think I actually sort of figured it out, what might be the verse, and what might be the chorus... Speaking of which, the parts that I identified as choruses have this, well, it's the same thing all over again (but each time the specialness comes from a different place and is totally different of course), but that very classic feel, indicative of maybe even some specific genre but idk what exactly...

Besides that, well, maybe let's go back to my oh no moment for a minute, and let me say that I either am very illiterate in that sense (and yeah I am tbh) or the lyrics aren't as overtly, let's say, innuendo-filled? as I expected. They actually have a semblance of a story you know... I mean, NO, not even a semblance, it IS a story! Let me also say that this is a very interesting song to have stuck in your head a lot over the course of pretty much an entire week. Yes, it got to the point where it could be annoying. One last bit of the song I really like is at the very end, when one vocal line starts to sound kind of echoey / distant, nice touch.

9) There's No Such Thing as Aliens •

The song that first cemented itself as being by far the shortest song on the album, sort of an interlude before the incoming epicness of the last one (that was quite literally my very first impression before I even heard either, looking at the vinyl this one was visibly much shorter than the last, and of course I expected the last one to be fittingly grand, and so it was obviously, but we'll get to that in a minute). The funny thing is, it's not even that short, as I figured even before eventually making sure how long it was in fact, and that's almost 3 minutes, which, well, of course that's still something around well over two times shorter than the last song.

But enough about its length, this song actually does kind of work as an interlude thematically too, which it is? it sort of even feels like it doesn't quite fit with the themes of the other ones, I mean, maybe not that it doesn't fit but just that it's defintely the furthest removed from the much more similar topics of the other ones (more about that also later!). Plus it's pretty sparse lyrically, once again, there's less you can fit in under 3 minutes anyway. Which supports the interlude argument also I believe.

Anyway, the music. First of all, waltz time!! Always a treat in sparksland to have that rare spooky 3/4 time track. The feeling I get from this track is: grand, very orchestral, anddd, hmmmm, elegant. But is it more elegant than the rest of the album... Idk, I wanted to use 3 different descriptors. I honestly don't think there's much more to say about this one, it's great, the melody is really great, the grandiosity of the choruses, the even more notable waltz time during verses. I think that yeah, I could pick this track as the most orchestral / classical inspired of the album. One cool moment I'll mention though would be the very ending, with the repeated "no"s going for longer than you'd expect them to maybe, and the deep drum accompanying all that. Very grand ending.

10) As I Sit Down to Play the Organ at the Notre Dame Cathedral •

Well, how do I even start on this one. I think I can say that with literally each single listen I become more and more in awe of this song. Could I even call it even more of a journey than the opener? In a sense, yeah. There's so much going on here. So much that I almost feel like breaking it down into individual parts and giving all of them their due because they all work for the amazingness of the whole. In fact, I might even already have this track roughly memorized (all... 7 minutes of this track) so it could be done. But ok, I'll just go with each part as I remember it, we'll see if I in fact do go over nearly all or all of them.

So. Echoey synth (?) intro, then the first melody part, with the individual words repeated, kind of "urgent" vocals part, very nice rhythm and something I just find very cool. As it progresses we get another part of just the synth / electric guitar-like synth / guitar or whatever this thing is, then a mix of both + this clicky instrument and / OR is it the harpsichord again? Giving it all more urgency and a nice constant rhythm. I also really like when the "byebyebye" vocal gets looped before the synth reenters. Overall, this part of the song has a very electronic, drony feel that I greatly enjoy and find very atmospheric and immersive already.

But, well, it doesn't end here. Because later, everything else stops and we hear a church organ. Even the melody it enters with is very much like something you'd hear in a cathedral, indeed! Good environmental storytelling, isn't it? But then... the organ transitions into this very very cool frantic melody (and by very very cool I mean that it's probably the #1 thing that stood out to me about this song right from the start) which returns consistently throughout the song and is just oh so very awesome.

So we enter the next part, what could probably be called the central part "as I sit down to play the organ...", tension is rising, the organ is doing its thing in the back, then some "hallelujah"s and BOOM! The chorus? The "I've got faith" part of course. And with it some epic strings, and I don't think I can really say what exactly it is about this part that makes it SO FREAKING GOOD & ABSOLUTELY SHOWSTOPPING but it's easily in my top 3 moments on the album at least. Then it's followed by the slightly considerably calmer "she's here..." section and we go mostly full circle for now, more variations on the same parts. Some grandiose "lalala"s & epic drum action too. And then, the "I believe" sections which I cannot let myself neglect, mostly just on the basis of them being kind of sickening to me. You know, in the "why did they do this (said respectfully)" way.

Ok, did I really just talk about all of the individual parts, I guess so. But before I move on I have to mention the moment when the very first major part, the "bye-bye-bye my baby" part, makes a sudden comeback. It's honestly just so good and satisfying, when completely different sections switch and make unexpected (or maybe you actually DO expect them on some subconscious level, and that's what makes them work so well??) returns like this, if a song has that it's very likely it will become a top top favourite or at least have a very big effect on me. Or even HUGE effect, like here.

So yeah, the song does eventually end (I mean technically unbelievable somewhat, since it's so long, but have I actually mentioned yet that this track goes by about just as fast as the first one, because it sure does, you do not notice the time passing WHATSOEVER) on some more "hallelujah"s. And the album's over. Wooo boy.

Bonus tracks

Well, it's not really over yet if it's not the vinyl but the streaming version. We still have just two more bonus tracks, technically just one? So I'll go over both quickly now for completion's sake.

First we have "We Are the Clash" which is a pleasant song for sure, can work as kind of a denouement after the crazy journey of the previous track, so you're left on a little less of a mood unresolution and can become a little less unsettled after all of this going down... Idk.

But yeah, I actually have this impression veering on pretty strong conviction that this song is a cover actually. It could even be a cover of the band whose name is mentioned in the song, which would put this version in a extremely funny area of how far stylistically it might be from the hypothetical original, if it exists (what's up with all these bands and their "we are the [band name]" songs, there's so many). Of course I could also be very wrong about this so all I just wrote could turn out to be absolutely hilariously off target, still, a fun little attempt at guessing things and connecting ideas on my part, whatever the truth turns out to be (I will learn the truth... in due time. My experience tells me that when I'm still fully in initial unwell mode over an album it's difficult for me to read and retain any outside information / commentary on it. So no need to rush it, heh) (note: yeah I was right for once. I meannnn I guess it was obvious anyway but still, let me have this, I've been fooled by assuming that a cover was someone's original song way too many times so I'm happy to not be fooled for once).

So ok, the last last track. Baby baby can i invade your country is baaaaaack, not much to say but it's pretty much the same other than the lyrics, since well, it is the "alternate lyrics" version, not "alternate" version. I do think that it might be slightly longer than the final version though but it's also likely I'm misremembering.

Anyway, lyrics, all I can or feel the need to say is that they seem to be definitely way more to the point on what this song's actual topic is (not... invading... countries . I don't need to explain it here do I) so subtlety win for the final one I guess. Just so it is known, I have not read these two songs' lyrics unlike all the main album tracks'. But I think I caught enough to get the main idea from both, you know. I do think also that the final version's lyrics just kind of sound better, idk if it's the rhythm of the words or what but they do just have a nicer flow. So, improvement, probably, still very nice to know this version anyway of course. (note: yeah i have learned since that most of the final lyrics are the US national anthem. Makes sense that if any song were to have alternate lyrics it would be this one)

To round it all up...

I think there's still a lot that can be said about this album as a whole but how do I go about that. Well, I did mention earlier that I'd come back to a) the overall feel / atmosphere here b) the themes / stories and how they connect. So those shall work as a guide to my conclusions part of this whole review.

First off, I could even say a bit about the main vibe / sound here in reference to Lil' Beethoven! Since it really does work as a sequel, at least in sound, by all means. I described LB with stuff like... cold, distant, cathedral-like, what else was there.... Ok, I have more, lifted directly from my LB write-up. (note: finally listening to LB a month prior to this was enough of a big deal for me that I wrote down my live reactions to hearing the songs) Impersonal / detached. Alien. Spacious.

Do those apply here too? I think so, yeah! Pretty much all of these words also feel like pretty good descriptors here. But honestly, the more I think about it.... Maybe it's just that the distance / the detachedness and alienated feeling is a bit lower here? Or at least in some songs more than the others. It's hard to explain honestly.... That similar atmosphere continues here but it's just..... not as pronounced maybe. Idk, maybe it will become clearer with this next point I wanna make which is that LB actually is less, uhhh friendly in sound. Less accessible! Yeah, I do think that this album could be seen as: LB started the experiment, HYL perfected it by taking it in a slightly more accessible direction. Or is perfected a wrong word here, who can say which was, or should be considered the better outcome here.... I think I actually have a problem putting concepts into the right words today. But maybe at least some of my feelings about this can still come across here...

So yeah, I don't think it's possible to tell if HYL is better or LB, it also depends on how you look at it! As it kind of always does when judging stuff per good / better. One thing that I can say sort of for sure though is that LB certainly started ideas / techniques that HYL expanded on and toyed with further, so in that sense, it could be considered an improvement. And so it is clear, I don't think I can say 100% that I like one more than the other. It's not that simple. I guess you could however say that HYL was more of an instant hitter and LB really just grows and grows more in power overtime....

So yeah, they kind of did take the LB concept and all of the avant-garde, experimentation factors that come with it, and made it more accessible, which is a form of art and an achievement and a testament of skill in itself. I think the somewhat friendlier, more palatable approach of this album also lifts off the coldness aspect a bit, but it's still there, especially on tracks 1, 3, 5, 10, off the top of my head.....

But maybe I should talk more about the album and its sound as it stands on its own before I move on though. Maybe we could jump from the words I already used: classic, orchestral, brooding, dramatic, dark, aggressive (yes, I somehow see it as friendlier than its predecessor despite also being much more aggresive in all senses. Raw even. How does that work? I can't tell you today. And idk if I'll ever figure it out. And also personal, YES, that's the word, this album feels soooo very personal and emotive. Not in the sense that I'm trying to say that it must be personal to them, more like it just shows some very personal feelings and struggles), triumphant (but that goes only for that one song really), driving, ELEGANT. I think the word elegant is the key here. In all of its subtler or less subtle tone shifts it keeps that very elegant, kind of graceful feel, all throughout. Even when it seems to be touching subjects that wouldn't necessarily bring that kind of atmosphere to mind, it kind of elevates them and gives them, idk, a new meaning?

So is this a good segue into the topic of themes? I guess the album name sits well with what I think is going on here, because my main impression of the whole thing was something like.... stories of fucked-up guys with self-image problems / feelings of inadequacy, which they try to go around fully convinced that they're right (and their messy love-lives too ofc). Or are they just, normal, regular guys actually. Who can tell. It certainly gives you an idea / a whole concept to work with and ponder here and to connect and visualize kinda.

I think that yeah, out of what I've heard so far this has to be the most thematically-consistent sparks album there is. It comes to a point where all the songs give this little impression of a whole universe where all of this takes place, and while I've had these kind of impressions from albums that are way more all-over-the-place conceptually with their lyrics (I mean like.... pretty much every They Might Be Giants album. You can create this sort of illusion with more than words, the music and its atmosphere and often also its stylistic consistency might be even more important actually), this comes, in my mind, almost close to concept album levels in that regard.

The definition of a concept album probably calls for something more specific than all the tracks being in sort of a similar theme but you know.... I don't think it really happens most of the time in music in general, that the whole album has this sort of a familiar idea / spirit throughout that makes a unique whole. (note: apparently wikipedia calls this album a concept album. Another win for me in that case, lol). You could probably try to connect different songs' themes and work with that in some way.... Which is something I already did in all honesty, but actually it's a between albums thing here, because I do believe that the dick around guy could be the same guy that the narrator from ugly guys with beautiful girls talks about. Similar ideas you can connect! That's what I'm talking about. I love it when songs tell overarching stories.... Make me think about characters from songs or little universes and vibes created by even the vaguest of lyrics and the ideas those create and the imaginings they bring, any day.

Ok, what else can I say. I think I mostly covered everything I could actually. Should I say something more about the cover with the added context now. I already said that it gives off a "something's wrong" feeling, but I think it's also compelling in how it conveys that elegant, non-threatening and polished image, sterile kinda. Well, I think only one of those four words I just chose doesn't really apply to most of this album's songs. I mean non-threatening ofc. Hmmm, maybe sterile doesn't really work here either, besides those prominent examples of the coldness of sound on this album, it would actually go more with LB, which also has a fittingly minimalist, all-white cover. Collected and orderly to a distressing degree. Just like here, it also gives off some.... distressing vibe. As I already said with the "this isn't right" feel.

What else can I say. In reviews you usually give your opinions, which I very much did throughout this thing here, everything like this is always somewhat subjective I think, but even then, a final verdict could also be said here. I think it's pretty damn clear by now what my opinion on this album is. I wouldn't spend several days writing a review and analysing every little detail if I didn't have a very strong (positive) opinion on this album (I guess I technically can imagine writing a very throughout review of something that just annoys you so much that you simply have to go through everything wrong with it and have some relief and closure through that. I can't see myself doing that kinda thing however, I'm not that kind of hater (or really a hater at all lol, i hope), I'd rather devote my time to things that I find actually cool and awesome and stand-outs in a positive sense, and worthy of attention and that dedication).

So this comment I fittingly found on tumblr over the last few days feels pretty relevant towards my opinion of writing "reviews" of stuff (this was more of a, very detailed analysis I know, but review just kind of fits, especially with how people call their recaps / commentary / writeups of concerts "reviews" a lot of the time):

(note: yeah I think I should come clean here that despite my very recent start of actual social media participation I've already been a serial lurker in various places for years now, lol, I mean, that's probably a normal thing to do though, I hope. I mean, probably lots of people do or did that at some point, but still. And I don't know whose post this is anymore sadly. But I thought I'd keep it here because it's a good summary)

And also, just for the record, this is my opinion on HYL pretty much. Yaaaayyy i loved it i had so much fun!! For real. i'm glad they're creating something!!!! Absolutely. One of a kind album that I will cherish as yet another great and unforgettable entry on the list of albums that changed me (TM) and brought me lots of fun and great memories / associations, even in such a short time. And the actual FIRST on the new list of albums that I'm happy to have brough the utmost attention to and dissected like that. It's out of love.

Thank you for reading this far! Here's a little bunny as a prize!

Whoa whoops this gif was supposed to be small! Have a huge bunny in that case, you deserve it! 🐇

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

i love my friends so much. i feel like yesterday i had a lot of shit going on in my head and i woke up to my friend explaining things in a way that put my mind at ease. i dont feel as anxious anymore because i know i was overthinking. i think my dad said it best when he told me that he thought my wonderful brain of mine just wants to think problems are bigger than they actually are. he is right! im just inexperienced in life and half of the time im scared im doing something wrong but- HEY. i need to be more confident in making mistakes. making mistakes doesn't define me as a person!! i need to stop worrying about doing life right and just live for the sake of living and doing what makes me happy!!!!!!!

[annamaryllis]

I would like to know exactly how luke asking annabeth to run away with him went down.

[dredshirtroberts]

hey. hey universe. hey fucker universe.

no one said you could bring back the Wednesday Curse, bitch. fuck off with this shit i didn't need any of this first thing today.