#my nerd brain could not resist

[eeny-weeny-teeny-peeny]

Personal pet peeve but I hate it when they gender bend a werewolf they call her a “were woman”???

When you break down Werewolf, you get were that means Man and wolf. So to say “were woman” is incorrect because it’s to say “Man Woman”. Which slay your bigender highness but it peeves me.

The correct way to gender bend Werewolf is to call her a Wifwolf/Wyfwolf because Wif/Wyf is the archaic word for woman, the same way were/wer means Man.

[mindmelter]

Turn A Bully Into A Drone

The moment Ethan stepped into the empty locker room, he knew his plan had worked. The shower was running and there he was—Jace, his high school tormentor, standing under the water, his white dress shirt completely drenched and clinging to his muscular body while wearing black speedos. His chiseled abs and big, perky pecs were fully visible through the soaked fabric, and his face... Blank. Emotionless. Obedient.

Ethan's hands reached out and unbuttoned Jace's shirt, revealing his big pecs.

Ethan’s heart raced as he took in the sight. It had all led up to this. The months of planning, the late nights spent perfecting the nanorobots, the careful engineering to ensure they would only activate upon contact with Jace’s skin. He had spent years enduring Jace’s cruel pranks, his cocky smirks, and the way he strutted around the school like he owned it. Jace was feared by everyone, and this granted him the title of the leader of the most arrogant group of jocks.

But now he was standing motionless, allowing the nerd he used to bully to enjoy the sight of his muscular body.

It had been easy for Ethan. Despite being a troublemaker, Jace was the golden boy of the swim team and would spend hours in the pool every day. All Ethan had to do was introduce the microscopic machines into the water supply and let them do their work. The moment Jace dove in, the nanorobots detected their target and swarmed toward him, slipping through his pores, traveling through his bloodstream, and finally settling in his brain. They rewrote his brain cells, stripped away his arrogance, his free will, and molded him into exactly what Ethan wanted.—His personal drone.

And the proof was right there. A small tattoo of a triangle behind Jace’s ear—a mark left by the nanorobots once their work was complete. Ethan had spotted it this morning when Jace took a swim, when he stepped out of the pool, his usual swagger was gone, his movements just a little too stiffy, his eyes just a little too empty.

Ethan watched as the swimmers all went to the locker room, and went home after getting dressed. Jace was the only one who stayed behind.

And now, here he was, standing under the shower, waiting for Ethan just like the nanorobots were programmed to do.

Ethan stepped forward and reached out, slowly pressing his palm against Jace’s broad, wet chest, feeling the firm warmth beneath the wet skin. Jace had always been built, his swimmer’s body honed to perfection. He would have never allowed a guy like Ethan to touch him, but now there was no resistance, no cocky smirk, no taunting insult. Just stillness.

Ethan let his fingers roam lower, finding one of Jace’s nipples. He gave it a testing pinch, rolling it between his fingers. Jace shuddered. A small, involuntary gasp slipped from his lips, but he didn’t move away.

“You like that? You arrogant prick,” Ethan murmured, squeezing his pecs harder. “From now on, these are mine. You understand?”

Jace’s lips parted. “Yes… Master. These pecs are yours.” His voice was distant, dreamy, like a zombie.

The triangle mark on his neck glowed with blue light for a few seconds, indicating that a new command had been installed in Jace's brain.

Ethan grinned. “You’re gonna be my obedient toy now, Jace. No more bullying, no more acting like you’re better than me. From now on, you’re gonna crave my touch.” His hands moved with purpose, pinching both of Jace’s nipples and twisting. Hard. Jace let out a strangled moan, his legs trembling. Ethan felt a rush of power, of pure satisfaction. This was what he deserved.

Before, Jace would have punched Ethan just for looking at his pecs. Now, all Jace could think about was how those slabs of muscles on his chest weren't his anymore, but now belonged to Ethan.

“My touch makes you so horny,” Ethan cooed, rubbing slow circles around Jace’s hardened buds. “Your pecs are so sensitive now. So sensitive that from now on, you can only cum when I play with them.”

The triangle mark glowed again, Jace gasped, his entire body quivering under the shower’s stream. “Please…”

Ethan smirked. “Please what?”

"Please make me cum, Master!" Jace let out a desperate whimper, but Ethan wasn’t feeling generous. He pinched harder, twisting cruelly, and Jace let out a deep, shuddering moan. His whole body tensed, and his cock thobbed inside his tight speedos—then he came, his face contorted in helpless pleasure.

Ethan chuckled, stepping back to admire his work. Jace stood there, panting, his dick printed in his speedos, still leaking cum. The triangle mark behind his ear was a permanent reminder of who he belonged to now.

“You're such a pervert, Jace. Now kneel and suck me off. Play with your nipples as you do it.” Ethan ordered.

The triangle was glowing again, Jace’s blank eyes slowly focused on him, and for the first time in his life, there was no arrogance, no cruelty—just need. Desperation.

And from that day on, Jace changed. He stopped shoving Ethan in the hallways, stopped laughing at him with his friends. Instead, he was always walking beside Ethan, his eyes pleading, wanting him to play with his pecs all the time. And Ethan would whenever he wanted.

Ethan would use Jace's pecs to jerk off, suck, or simply to torture the once-arrogant jock. One time, Ethan used a waterproof marker to write 'Owned by Ethan' on Jace's chest just before his turn in a swimming competition. It became the school's only talk for a whole week. It was all anyone at school talked about for a whole week.

Ethan even made Jace kneel in front of him in the hallway and beg him to play with his "tits" right in front of his jock friends... let's say he wasn't their leader anymore after that day, but Jace couldn't care less, all he cared about was Ethan using his pecs for his pleasure.

______________________

Seven years had passed since high school, and Ethan had long since moved on from his past with Jace. The nanorobots, however, had not. They remained nestled deep in Jace’s brain, an unseen force that still bound him to the programming Ethan had left behind. Ethan wasn’t cruel—he had allowed Jace to live his life normally. He could date, he could have sex, he could go about his days as if nothing had changed. But there was one thing he could never escape: he could only orgasm when playing with his pecs and thinking of Ethan.

It had been a failsafe. A final act of control that ensured, no matter where life took Jace, he would always belong to Ethan in some way.

Ethan had thrived since high school. College had been a playground for him—his intelligence, his experiments, and his confidence had expanded. In just a few months of college, the hottest jocks also displayed a triangle mark on their necks. Ethan had built an empire of control. A harem of jock drones, each under his influence in one way or another, devoted to him in mind and body. Ethan was living his fantasy.

And then, one afternoon at the beach, he saw him.

Jace was out in the ocean, carving through the waves on a surfboard with practiced ease. He had become a surfing instructor, and the years had only made him more impressive—He wore a tight surfing fit: a tight-sleeved compression shirt unzipped just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of his pecs and compression pants that clung to every sculpted muscle, outlining the power he carried between his legs. Ethan smirked. Jace was still as hot as he was in High School.

Ethan watched from the shore as Jace finished his lesson and walked up the beach, shaking out his wet hair. When their eyes met, recognition dawned in Jace’s face, followed by a wide, genuine grin.

“Ethan! Damn, it’s been forever, man!”

Jace’s voice was warm and genuine. He gave Ethan a tight hug, burying his face between his pecs... whether intentional or not, Ethan wasn't complaining.

If Ethan didn’t know better, he would’ve thought the years had erased the past. But he knew. He knew because Jace’s eyes lingered on him just a second too long, because the way Jace's pecs flexed with his face buried between them, told Ethan that deep down, the nanorobots were still just as strong in his brain as seven years go.

“Jace,” Ethan greeted, pulling his face away from Jace's pecs, pretending at camaraderie. “You look good.”

Jace laughed, wiping sweat from his brow. “Thanks. You too, though. You look... different.”

Ethan smirked. “Yeah, life’s been good to me.”

They caught up for a bit. Jace seemed completely normal. He had a job now, a life, a routine. In High School, Ethan always thought Jace would end up in a gang or having a shitty life, but thanks to the work the nanorobots did to his brain, Jace had a second chance in life... even if he was a mindless drone now.

But Ethan knew better, as normal Jace looked now, he was just a ticking time bomb waiting for the right command. And then, casually, as if he were simply making an observation, Ethan said.

“Activate Standby Mode.”

Jace stopped mid-sentence and the mark on his neck glowed. His muscles stiffened, and then—nothing. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his chest rising and falling in slow breaths. His face, once animated with conversation, went blank. Emotionless. His eyes stared ahead, unfocused, waiting.

Ethan took a step forward, tilting his head as he observed his former bully, now reduced to a mere puppet again, after seven years. He ran a finger along Jace’s chest, watching for any sign of resistance. There was none.

He reached for Jace's bulge and gave it a slight squeeze. “I missed playing with you, Jace,” Ethan murmured. Jace remained still, completely at his mercy. Ethan’s smirk widened. After all these years, Jace was still his. "You see Jace... I turned into a drone almost every hot jock at my school, yet, none of them had such perfect pecs like you."

And now, it was time to remind him of that fact. "Follow me."

Ethan led Jace away from the beach, guiding him toward the rocky outcrop where Ethan would have the privacy he needed. Jace followed obediently, moving without hesitation, his gaze vacant. He was still deep in standby mode, awaiting only Ethan’s next command.

When they reached the secluded area behind some rocks, Ethan pushed Jace down against the stone, positioning him just as he wanted. Ethan unzipped the tight, long-sleeved compression shirt, peeling it open to fully reveal Jace’s sculpted pecs that he missed so much, then he pulled down Jace's compression pants, revealing his tight black speedos.

The sight made Ethan hard—Jace’s blank face, his perfect, meaty chest and the massive bulge in his speedos... Suddenly, all the memories of the fun he had with Jace in high school started to flood back.

Ethan climbed onto Jace’s lap, his legs straddling the thick thighs beneath him. He gently pressed his palms against Jace’s pecs, kneading the firm flesh before lowering his mouth to one of the stiff nipples. He licked at it first, tasting the salt on Jace’s skin before closing his lips around the nub, sucking hungrily.

Jace remained motionless, his breath deep and steady. Ethan soon felt the twitch beneath him, the involuntary jerk of Jace’s cock pressing harder against his ass through the tight speedos. Smirking, Ethan bit down on Jace’s nipple, twisting the other between his fingers as he felt the cock beneath him throb in response.

“I see my command is still holding strong,” Ethan murmured against Jace’s chest before moving to the other nipple, sucking, biting, and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. Each movement sent an electric pulse down to Jace’s cock, making it strain harder against its confines.

Ethan reached down, tugging down the waistband of Jace’s speedos. His thick, heavy cock sprang free, standing rigid and leaking.

Jace was too big—9 Inches hard. Ethan would need lube to take him fully. That's when Ethan remembered about a special command he would often use during High School. Would that still work? He asked himself. There was only one way to find out.

"Activate lube production mode," Ethan said. He waited a few seconds, a wicked grin formed on his face when he started to see a transparent sticky liquid oozing out of Jace's nipples.

During High School, Ethan would often pull Jace to a secluded room and fuck himself on Jace's big cock. To make it easier, Ethan gave the nanorobots a trigger word to produce a cum-enhanced lube that would be produced by Jace's pecs.

Ethan had completely forgotten about this trick until now, and he began to wonder what else he might be forgetting...

Ethan gave Jace's pecs a squeeze, making the transparent slippery liquid ooze faster. He then put some on his hand and coated Jace's dick with the natural lube.

Ethan’s own arousal was unbearable now, his own cock aching as he positioned his ass over Jace’s slippery shaft. With one slow movement, he sank down onto it, letting Jace's cock stretch him open.

A moan tore from Ethan’s lips as he adjusted, his hands bracing against Jace’s chest. The thick cock inside him pulsed, but Jace’s face remained blank, obediently waiting for direction. That only made Ethan hotter. He rocked his hips, setting a slow, deep rhythm, his fingers never leaving Jace’s pecs, smearing the slippery lube all over his chest making it glisten. Each time Ethan twisted or pinched a nipple, the cock inside him throbbed, reacting as if the sensations were directly wired together... Ethan knew they were.

Ethan rode him harder, his moans turning into gasps. He ground his hips, his fingers working Jace’s pecs mercilessly, alternating between soft caresses and sharp twists that made Jace’s cock throb uncontrollably inside him.

Ethan was close. His own cock twitched between them, untouched but fully ready to explode. He bit down on Jace’s left nipple and moaned as his orgasm hit him like a shockwave. His cum spilled in thick ropes over Jace’s chest, painting those perfect pecs in his release.

As his orgasm ceased, he grinned wickedly as Jace’s body jerked beneath him, his cock throbbing before spilling deep inside Ethan, his load pumping out in response to Ethan's command written into his very being.

Ethan sat there for a moment, still impaled on Jace’s cock, watching the way the cum dripped down his pecs and mindless face. He dragged his fingers through it and inserted one finger inside Jace's mouth with satisfaction.

“I'm never letting you go again,” Ethan whispered, pressing a final kiss to Jace’s agape mouth.

______________________

Ethan made his way to his personal gym, a massive space inside his mansion filled with state-of-the-art equipment and his favorite drone.

The moment he stepped inside, his eyes fell on Jace, standing frozen with his eyes open in the middle of the gym. Every night, before heading to bed, Ethan would shut down the nanorobots inside Jace, leaving him stuck like statue all night.

Ethan approached with a smirk, trailing his fingers along Jace’s broad back before stepping in front of him and gripping the bottom of his tight gym shirt and lifting it, revealing Jace's thick, heavy slabs of muscle that Ethan had grown obsessed with. His pecs, round and full, just waiting for inspection.

“Good morning, Jace,” Ethan said. His hands roamed over the meaty curves, squeezing them, testing their softness. The warmth of Jace’s body and the scent of sweat were pure addiction to Ethan. He leaned in, tracing his tongue around the stiff nub of Jace’s nipple before pulling it into his mouth, sucking greedily. Jace remained in sleep mode, his face blank, his body completely still except for the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath.

Ethan gave the soft flesh a few gentle bites, just enough to leave teeth marks for a few days. He then flicked his tongue over the sensitive bud, his fingers teasing and twisting the other, eliciting a soft, involuntary grunt from Jace. The connection was undeniable—every pinch, every squeeze sent a pulse straight to Jace’s cock, hardening him instantly. Ethan smirked against his pec—Jace's body still responded to the command even when his brain was turned off.

“They're getting bigger, you're doing a good job at working out your pecs,” he praised, dragging his teeth lightly against Jace’s nipples before switching to the other side, giving it equal worship. Jace’s body responded even without conscious thought, his muscles twitching under Ethan’s control. This was his pec drone now—his to touch, to taste, to use. And Ethan had no intention of ever letting him go again.

"Turn off sleeping mode. Activate loving boyfriend mode."

The triangle mark on Jace's neck started glowing.

[suiana]

yandere! parasite who decides to inhabit your body after observing you from his previous host. you're so cute! you'll definitely be a lot more comfortable to be in over this... fumbling fool that's obsessed with you.

the switch is seamless and you don't even realize that you have a parasite in you until he speaks.

you were stunned, where did this voice come from? you look around you, thinking your boss or coworker had called for you... only for the face of a... translucent and handsome looking man to appear right in front of you.

"hey!"

"what the- where did you come from? wait a minute who even are you?"

"you're so silly. isn't it obvious that i'm a parasite and you're my host?"

"a... parasite?"

you freak out, thinking you have brain eating worms in you as you break down in the middle of your job. fortunately, the lovely parasite in you takes the time to comfort you through your brain.

he tells you that he won't kill you and that he's a symbiotic parasite. that he'll just co-exist with you for as long as you live. that he won't interrupt your life whatsoever, he just needs a place to stay, you know?

at least that's what he tells you and himself.

unbeknownst to him, he had... unfortunately adopted certain characteristics from his previous host. and what did that include? his obsession of course.

he doesn't notice it at first. he was just acting like his normal self, observing your day to day life for about a month or two while interacting happily with you through brain messages. everything was fine and dandy! nothing out of the ordinary for the both of you except for the fact that you now had a parasite in your brain.

and he was quite useful actually! improving your health, boosting your physical strength and stuff... it was so freaking cool! you never knew you could do all these things!

plus, he was so sweet! you two were definitely like a pair of really good friends even if you just met a month or two ago! he's just perfect!

that was, until he saw someone confessing to you.

he didn't understand what was going on. why did his chest tighten up at the sight of some other person confessing their love to you? why does he feel a sudden rush of... anger?

he turns to watch what you do and he swears he only feels more anger at how you react. cheeks flushed, pupils dilated...

no, he couldn't have that.

meanwhile, you were totally flattered by the sudden confession. especially when it was from this cute nerd from the IT department! maybe you'll accept- wait, wait, wait! why was your body moving on its own?!

"you belong to me."

the parasite in your brain mumbles as you lose all control of your body and begin walking away from your admirer. what the?! he's never done this before! why's he taking control of your body?!

"hey! give my body back!"

"how could you do this to me? i am hurt, my dear host."

you couldn't even respond, too shocked to even say anything before you try to resust again. obviously it wouldn't work but it doesn't hurt to try.

"hey cut it out! i thought you said we're just living together? what's this? you totally messed up my chances of getting with someone!"

you were about to snap back when you feel a cold dread creep up your spine. shit, you forgot he could control everything in your body.

you could only watch in horror as he brings your body back to your apartment before he forces your body onto your bed. his translucent body appears in your vision once more, pinning you to the bed. you couldn't even resist even if you tried. he controlled your brain after all.

"you're my host, therefore, you are mine. i do not understand what's so hard to understand."

gritting your teeth, you could only allow this parasitic admirer of yours to stare down at you while grinding his hips into yours. damn, what's he trying to-

"hah... you're so cute... i love you so much... can i explore you? I'm so curious. I've always looked away when you were bare but..."

you couldn't even say no if you tried. your body was responding on its own. damn it! his brain controlling abilities were too good! maybe you should be a parasite in your next life.

"ah... is that a yes? god, i love you. i love you, i love you... i love you so much my darling host."

...

were you about to have mental sex with the parasite living in your body right now?!

[movedblog-thesacrificialdove]

THE BITCHING PROJECT

[ patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms ]

— it's like you were secretly asking for this !! degration kink, rough sex, dubious consent, deflowering, light dumbification, semi-public sex, manipulation ✧ ft.: yandere student council ✧ cast: nerd f!reader

His hand grasps your hair as you choke around his girth. There's tears brimming in your eyes. Anxiety and confusion are washed away by the growing arousal in your stomach—this isn't normal. You've never been treated like this before. He's using your mouth like a ragdoll.

"Fuck," he moans, obsessing over the way your unexperienced tongue lays flat on the underside of his cock. "Such a good fucking bitch. How does it feel with your nose buried in my cock and not some books, huh?"

Nothing prepared you for the way this man is in the dim light: he's unlike his smile like a warm setting sun, hands tender to the brief passing touch, and voice an echo of hope and cheer.

He's fucking your throat like it's his newest assignment. Studiously, he memorises the plump of your lips and the heat in your throat. There's something primal yet meticulous about how he thrusts into your mouth. It's like he's thought this over and over again.

Your hands struggle for grip on his hips; he won't relent in his pace. Dizziness presents as you can't think straight—his cock the only thing that you can think of.

A guttural moan leaves him. "Can't believe you'd fall for some s-stupid shit like this. Now you're all fucking mine—" he pulls out, the head of his cock on your lips—"you like that, huh? Like belonging to me? I'll make you forget about your classes and I'll keep your cunt strapped on my cock instead."

There's a string of saliva that connects his cock to your lips. He plays with it, having fun smearing it all over your chin. The humiliation is tattooed in your brain.

You agreed to meet him because the Dean planned to give you the scholarsip—something you've been working so hard for. It's a lie. How could you have known someone from the student council would lie to you just to get their dick wet?

"Hey, hey," he pulls you up, sitting you on a desk. "What are you thinking about, baby? You're thinking too hard. Come on, I know you feel good."

And you do. Because after all of this, you still got a big fucking crush on him.

"S-stop it, please," you try to say. "I'm... I'm sorry if I did anything wrong but—"

He laughs. "You did nothing wrong. I love you, I do. But you're just to gullible. You have to know how adorable you look when you think everything you want is going to be handed over to you on a plate."

Red paints your face. Your heart churns at his words but he's standing between your legs with his cock wetting the inside of your thighs. Your cunt is being exposed with an easy pull of your panties to the side. The conflict of arousal and humiliation is too much to handle.

"How about this, hm? I'm going to fuck you better and tomorrow, let's see you beg for the Dean's cock to get that scholarship?"

There's contradictions on your tongue. It's taken out of you when he pulls your hips—his cock sliding between your folds and fucking you raw.

"F-fuck!" You cry. It's too big. His cock stretches you more than your fingers ever had, easily breaking the littlest resistence your hymen had. It makes you cry. Your heart hammers against your ears. It pulses in time with your cunt convulsing around him.

He's breathing against your cheeks; with the way he's out of breath, it's like he's enjoying taking your virginity like this. "Holy... fuck—did you never have a guy in here before?" he asks, as if he needs confirmation. "You're so fucking tight. I need you to loosen up for me, babe."

Not a single effort was made to get you to relax. He pulls back and fucks you right in, ignoring your pained little whimpers as it's being overshadowed by your moans. You're conflicted but he's so assured. Though your brain runs wild, your pussy sucks him in and is getting wetter by the second.

"So fucking good," he moans. "Tight fucking slut for me."

"I've never—agh! Never... had—!"

He chuckles as he bruises your hips with his hold. "I can fucking tell, baby. Shit. I can feel your cute little pussy hug my cock so tight. You love it so bad, don't you? I bet you fucking waited to be defiled by a cock this big."

You can barely muster a breath, nonetheless a word to deny him. It’s cruel how he pistons his hips. Your legs are in the air, toes clenching as half of his cock barely breaches inside of you. You’re gripping him with a vice, the pain dulling with the hot moans he breathes through your skin.

“God, that’s it,” his mouth instinctively opens as he spreads your folds open. Your pussy is spread. on the girth, his eyes trained onto where his cock disappears inside of you. You can tell he’s lost himself in the sensation when he has to swallow down his own spit.

He’s moaning, a growl emitting from him when you squeeze him. “Loosen the fuck up!” His hand presses against your stomach, trapping you on the wooden desk. “God, shit. For someone eager to take a cock in you’re so not prepared.”

The new angle just rubs your g-spot. A strangled moan involuntarily leaves you, his response being a dark grin spreading on his face. Knowing now, he continues to rubs up that spot. You want to pull your legs together but it’s tightly locked in his grasp. Toes curling, you tense up as he thrusts faster inside of you.

“S-so…” you gasp, hands gripping the edge of the table as you move with the force of his thrusts. “So fucking—so fucking good, haaah..!”

With each thrust, you lose yourself to the pleasure. Your cunt perfectly welcomes him in, even sucking him inside just to keep it rubbing against those nerves. You don’t remember a time feeling this good. The stretch is almost gone. Broken cries of pleasure are being punched out of you. He’s merciless and chases his own high, yet you’re being dragged along as you feel yourself soak and leak.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I knew you’d love being fucked by me. I’ve been…. shit! I’ve been seeing you shake your cute little ass since you came. here. Knew you were so desperate to be claimed by me.”

He groans low in his throat. Swiftly, he throws your legs together on one side of his shoulders, fucking his cock deep inside of you. The new angle reaches further, your legs shaking from the intense feeling of being used like a toy for him. Your pleasure is undeniable. If you could see yourself, you would see your wet cunt drooling as your face is molded into a face of intoxication.

You can’t help it anymore. The slow yet deep thrusts spreads tingles from your pussy to the rest of your body. “‘m close…” you mutter, struggling to find diction. “So close—hng!”

“I didn’t hear you, “ he pulls on your hair from the roots, tugging it with enough force to electrocute your nerves there. “I can’t fucking hear you with your pussy gushing all over me.”

Cheeks turning a bright red, you try to cover yourself as he thrusts deep and short for emphasis. You can hear yourself make wet sounds with each movement. His words only make you wetter.

Trying to gather yourself, you take a deep breath with a hand over head your head. “I wanna cum, I need it so bad please… Need to cum on. your cock so b-bad!” You cry, surprised you could even form words when all you can think. about is that hot rod inside of you.

He’s forgiving. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs in relief as he continues his animalistic thrusts. The desk creaks each time and you would be worried for its durability if not for his hand lowering to play with your clit.

“Cum for me, cum for your new owner.”

The cock breaching your once-virgin pussy and the your clit being fondled only ushers you closer and closer to an orgasm. You couldn’t even warn him. With both hands reaching for his shoulders, a moan leaves you so loud you’re so everyone in the hallway could hear you.

You’re shivering. Your body is worn out and his cock pulls out of you—your orgasm flowing out as his own spurts on your face to your neck. He had clumsily aimed at your face, the angle awkward with your body half sat on the table. But the liquid splashed to your a bit of your lips, the taste of his release odd yet so erotic.

“Shit,” he mutters, the relief washing over him. You can see the satisfaction in his face; the slight upward tilt of his smile, the heavy breathing, his eyes examining every part of your body, all of it a testament to his amusement to having just defiled you.

There’s no need to speak. Finally, for the first time, he pushes his lips against yours.

In your years living, you haven’t given away your first kiss. In this moment, he had successfully taken two first times with you. His kiss reflects his previous desire to make his mark in your cunt. Breath hot, he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and is determined to lick every part of it.

You’re weak in his grasp. Every limb is numb and your pussy is still tingling. He’s kissing you how he wants as you simply struggle to breathe correctly. Your head is dizzy. There’s a cloud within your thoughts, simply unable to comprehend anything that is happening.

With a bite to your lower lip, that grounds you back to reality. He laughs into the kiss before placing his lips on your neck.

“So fucking dumb now,” he laughs, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reward for servicing my cock.”

Being his broken-in slut doesn’t seem so bad.

UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley

@ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 this story is original and is not allowed to be shared without credits. do not plagiarise, feed to ai, or claim as yours.

[blissfulflw]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝑈𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙

Pairing- Kim Minjeong (Winter) x fem reader

Genre- Fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers

Word count- 10813

A/N: tumblr is being a bitch rn so I have to split the fic into two parts since apparently it’s too ‘long’ so here.

Part 2

It started with a text.

You had just finished up a long day at the library, your brain fried from the hours spent buried in textbooks, when your phone buzzed on the desk. Frowning at the unfamiliar number, you unlocked it.

*Hey loser, I bet you’re still doing your stupid homework. I’m about to go to a party, but don’t worry, I’ll think of you while I’m having fun. ;) *– Minjeong, your new best friend

You blinked at the message. First of all, who even was Minjeong? You didn’t know anyone by that name. Second, loser? You glanced over at your untouched dinner—instant noodles—and sighed. Well, she wasn’t wrong.

You stared at the phone, debating what to do. Was this some kind of prank? No way this was real. Still, your fingers typed out a careful response.

Uh, sorry, I think you have the wrong number. I’m not sure who you meant to text, but I’m not your best friend.

The response came quickly, as if she’d been waiting for you to reply.

Oops. Sorry, loser. I’ll try again next time. Have fun with your noodles. ;)

Your eyebrow twitched at the audacity. You weren’t sure if you should be offended or impressed by how casually rude this person was.

The next day at class, your phone buzzed again, and you groaned inwardly before checking it.

How’s your loser day going, huh? Are you hiding under the desk to avoid attention again?

You stared at the message, unsure of how to react. Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly typed back.

This isn’t funny. Stop texting me.

Aww, don’t be such a buzzkill. I’m bored, so I’m just sending you some entertainment. Maybe you should loosen up a little. Have you ever tried going to a party?

You frowned. You were way too shy for parties. Definitely not your scene. But this person didn’t seem to care about your feelings.

I don’t go to parties, and I’m not interested in whatever this is. Please stop texting me.

There was a pause before the next message came through.

Oh, I see. Another shy nerd. Alright, well, don’t have too much fun being all lonely and miserable. I’ll catch you later, loser.

You resisted the urge to throw your phone out the window. Why was this person so insufferable? You could already picture some snobby rich kid typing that message with an exaggerated smirk.

A few days later, you were in the library again, trying to focus on your notes when your phone buzzed again. This time, you didn’t even hesitate before checking.

I hope you’re enjoying being a nobody while I’m out living my best life. Got a new Louis bag. It’s so much better than your stupid backpack.

You blinked at the message and felt a small surge of annoyance.

Why do you keep texting me?

Because it’s fun. You’re fun to mess with. Plus, I think you need me in your life.

You let out a frustrated breath and leaned back in your chair. Why did you care so much about a person who didn’t even know you? Still, something about this exchange—it was infuriatingly addictive. As much as you hated the arrogance behind every message, a tiny part of you almost looked forward to it. Maybe because it was the closest thing to excitement you’d had in a while.

Well, I don’t need you.

Uh-huh, sure. That’s why you keep replying, loser.

Your fingers twitched, and you stared at the screen for a moment. You weren’t sure if it was frustration or something else—something you definitely didn’t want to admit—but you couldn’t help yourself.

Fine. Whatever. But I’m not playing your games anymore.

Oh, you’re playing. You just don’t know it yet. :)

_____

The next week, you found yourself standing outside the classroom when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, nerd.”

You froze. No way. You turned around, heart suddenly hammering in your chest. Standing there, her arms crossed and a smug grin on her face, was none other than Kim Minjeong. The Kim Minjeong. The girl everyone talked about on campus. The one with the perfect hair, flawless skin, and an attitude that could probably melt steel. And yet, she was looking at you like you were her next personal project.

“You’re the one from my texts,” she said, clearly amused. “I didn’t expect you to actually show up in person. I was starting to think you were just a boring little avatar on my phone.”

You cleared your throat, completely caught off guard. “Uh… I—”

“Shut up. I’m not here for your excuses. I just wanted to see what kind of loser texts like that. What’s your deal? You too shy to have a real conversation with people?” She tilted her head, her smirk growing.

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Was this really happening? You weren’t sure whether to feel angry or completely embarrassed.

“Well, no matter,” she continued, inspecting her nails. “You’ll be my little project now. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. For now.”

You stared at her, unable to speak. All you knew was that this was the start of something much, much bigger than you ever anticipated. And for some reason, you had the feeling it wasn’t going to be easy to get out of it.

You stood there, dumbfounded, as Minjeong—Kim Minjeong, the girl everyone on campus gossiped about—stared at you, completely unfazed by your awkward silence.

“You’re not much of a talker, huh?” she asked, leaning slightly forward, her tone almost mocking. “That’s fine. I’ll speak for both of us.”

You swallowed, feeling a little dizzy. She was even more intimidating in person. Her pristine appearance, her confident posture—it all screamed “don’t mess with me,” and yet here you were, standing in front of her, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I’m not trying to be mean,” Minjeong said, stepping a little closer. “But it’s really funny how you just take all my texts without saying anything back. You don’t even stand up for yourself. You just… let me walk all over you.”

You felt heat creeping up your neck, realizing she was right. You had been letting her mess with you, every text cutting through your defenses like a hot knife. And instead of standing up for yourself, you just let it happen, every time.

“Don’t worry,” Minjeong continued, her lips curling into a playful smile. “You’ll get used to it. Or not. I really don’t care either way.” She tilted her head, studying you with almost too much interest. “But hey, you’re not completely useless. You’re smart, right? The whole campus knows you’re the best in class. Maybe we can make a deal.”

You blinked, utterly confused. “A deal?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nodded, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “I need help in a few subjects. And since you’re such a little genius,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically, “I guess I’ll let you tutor me. But only if you agree to one thing.”

Your mouth went dry. “What thing?”

Her smirk widened, the challenge in her eyes making you want to back away, but you were frozen in place. “You’ll stop being such a boring, quiet little nerd. I want to see a little more of a… backbone from you.”

You swallowed, unsure of what she meant. Was she actually asking you to change? To become someone else? Or was this another game she was playing? Either way, something about the way she was looking at you made it hard to say no.

“And if I don’t?” you asked, your voice shaky but defiant.

She stepped even closer, closing the space between you, her presence looming in a way that made your heart beat faster. “Then I guess you’ll just stay in your little corner, the same nobody you’ve always been.” Her voice was low, almost teasing. “But hey, that’s your choice.”

You stared at her for a moment, torn between the frustration of her arrogance and the tiny spark of curiosity she’d ignited in you. You had always been invisible to people like her—perfect, untouchable Minjeong. But here she was, asking you for something. Something that felt… a little too much like a dare.

“Fine,” you finally muttered, unsure of what you were agreeing to but too stubborn to back down. “I’ll tutor you. But don’t expect me to be your personal project or anything.”

Minjeong’s lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, but I think you already are my project, sweetheart.” She let the words hang in the air, her tone thick with a teasing edge. “You just don’t know it yet.”

_____

You tried to concentrate on your notes in the library. You really did. But the truth was, you couldn’t stop thinking about Minjeong. Every time she texted you, every time she cornered you between classes, she left you reeling. You couldn’t figure out if she was just messing with you or if she really expected you to change for her—whatever that meant.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hey loser, I finished that paper. I hope you’re not crying because I got it done before you.

You groaned and typed back.

You’re not funny.

I’m hilarious, and you love it.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. But before you could type anything else, another message came through.

Meet me after class. I want to make sure you’re doing your job properly. I’ll be in the usual spot.

Your heart skipped a beat. The usual spot? What was that supposed to mean? You could already feel the nerves crawling up your spine. But there was no turning back now. You were in this—whether you liked it or not.

_____

You walked slowly across campus, your hands shaking in your pockets as you tried to ignore the growing anxiety in your chest. You had no idea what Minjeong wanted from you. Was she really expecting you to start acting differently? To… become someone like her?

You rounded the corner and saw her leaning against a tree, her sunglasses perched on her nose, looking effortlessly cool and completely out of place. Minjeong. The epitome of confidence, sitting there with her legs crossed and a casual smirk on her face as if she owned the whole campus.

She looked up when she saw you approaching and immediately stood up, her gaze shifting from indifferent to something more dangerous. “Well, well. Look who decided to show up.”

“I’m here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, still not sure what to say to her.

Minjeong crossed her arms, eyeing you up and down. “So… how’s this tutoring thing gonna work?” she asked, a cocky edge to her voice. “You gonna teach me something useful? Or are you just gonna sit there and tell me about boring equations?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m here to help you with the subjects you need, not your attitude.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that so?” She took a step closer, almost invading your personal space. “And what if I don’t want to listen to your ‘help’? What if I want to see if I can break you first?”

Your heart raced as she loomed over you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. You didn’t know whether to be terrified or intrigued by the way she was looking at you. But in that moment, you realized something.

You were in deeper than you thought.

_____

You sat at the table in the corner of the campus library, the one you usually claimed as your quiet spot. Your heart was racing, palms sweaty, despite the fact that you were technically prepared for the tutoring session. You had organized your notes, had everything ready, and you were determined to act professional.

Except that Minjeong was coming.

You had no idea how it was going to go. Would she actually listen? Would she make fun of you the entire time? The idea of having her so close, her eyes boring into you while you tried to explain math or history or whatever… It was enough to make you squirm in your seat.

The sound of footsteps broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked up. There she was. Minjeong. She sauntered toward your table with a confident smirk plastered on her face, her designer bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, the soft click of her heels echoing in the otherwise quiet library.

“Hey, nerd,” she greeted, sitting down a little too close for comfort.

You flinched slightly, your body tense. The closer she got, the harder it was to keep your thoughts in order. You had to remind yourself that she was here to study. You weren’t just some random person she was bothering—no, she needed your help.

Right?

“Ready to teach me, or do I need to entertain myself first?” she asked, leaning back in her chair, casually brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were playful, as though she knew exactly how she was affecting you.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “We’re starting with history,” you muttered, opening your notes to the chapter you had planned on covering first. “I… I’ll just explain it, okay?”

“Sounds boring,” Minjeong said nonchalantly, but she leaned in anyway, her gaze never leaving you. “Go on. Teach me then. But, I gotta warn you, I’m not the best student.”

Her words shouldn’t have affected you the way they did, but they did. The teasing lilt in her voice, the way she sat just a little too close—it was making it hard to focus.

You coughed, trying to push the thoughts aside. “So, uh, this chapter is about—”

Before you could finish, Minjeong casually kicked her legs out, letting one of her feet brush against yours. You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Her eyes flicked down to where her foot had made contact with yours, then back up to meet your wide-eyed expression.

“Oops,” she said sweetly, almost too sweetly, “Did I do that?”

You nodded quickly, trying not to look like a mess. Why was she doing this to you?

“Focus, focus,” you muttered under your breath, forcing yourself to look at your notes. You opened your mouth to start again, but Minjeong wasn’t making it easy.

She leaned in closer, her face now dangerously near to yours, her lips just a breath away. “You’re really cute when you get all shy, you know that?” Minjeong’s voice was low, and the tone sent a strange shiver down your spine. “Makes me want to see just how far I can push you…”

Your cheeks went red instantly. You turned away, trying to act like you were still in control. You’re supposed to be tutoring her, you reminded yourself. You’re not supposed to be a nervous wreck.

“Stop distracting me,” you whispered, hoping she couldn’t hear the way your voice wavered.

Minjeong’s chuckle sent another wave of heat rushing to your face. “Distracting? I’m just trying to help you relax. You know, get rid of that stiff little nerdy vibe you’ve got going on.”

You wanted to protest, but the words didn’t come. Every inch of you was telling you to focus, but Minjeong wasn’t letting that happen.

She reached across the table, just a little too casually, and tapped the edge of your hand with her fingers. “You’re so serious all the time. Lighten up, will you?”

You jerked your hand back, feeling your pulse quicken at her touch. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She wasn’t supposed to make you feel like this. You were the one in control here, the tutor, the smart one. Not her.

“I… I’m just trying to teach you,” you stammered, feeling the heat rush to your neck. “Can we please just focus on—”

But Minjeong wasn’t done yet.

Her chair scraped the floor as she moved just a little closer, until her body was practically pressed against yours. You stiffened immediately, trying to ignore the way her perfume clouded your senses. You could feel the heat radiating off her, and the distance between you was practically nonexistent.

“You’re cute when you get all flustered,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s honestly kind of adorable. Who knew the quiet nerd could be so… touchy?”

You swallowed, unable to think straight as she invaded your personal space even further. Minjeong’s lips were so close, and the way she was looking at you—like she was studying every reaction you had—it was making your head spin.

“I’m not—” you tried, but the words got stuck in your throat. You couldn’t even form a coherent sentence with her so close. You felt like a complete loser.

“Not what?” she teased, her breath warm against your skin. “Not flustered? You’re definitely flustered.”

You wanted to say something, anything to regain some of your composure, but Minjeong was relentless. She moved closer again, her hand resting casually on the table, dangerously close to yours. “I bet you don’t even know how much I’m messing with you right now. You’re such an easy target, you know?”

You couldn’t even look at her anymore. You were certain your face was so red, you might actually combust.

“Are you gonna answer me, or are you just gonna keep looking all embarrassed?” she purred, the teasing tone in her voice making you want to curl up into a ball.

“I… I don’t…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. You just wanted to get through this tutoring session without completely losing your mind.

Minjeong chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on you. “Don’t worry, loser. I’m not that cruel. I’ll give you a break. But only because I’m feeling generous.”

You barely managed a shaky breath as she leaned back in her chair, her smile still playful, her eyes gleaming with amusement. You couldn’t believe how much she was affecting you with just a few words, a few touches. It was like she was purposefully breaking down every wall you had, and you couldn’t stop her.

You’re in over your head, you thought, unable to ignore the way your heart pounded against your chest.

You were trying. Really.

Trying to focus on the page in front of you, trying to explain the importance of some war or treaty or whatever the hell you were supposed to be teaching Minjeong. But it was impossible with her next to you, stretching in her chair like this was a spa day and not a tutoring session.

At some point, she had slid her chair even closer, until your knees were touching under the table. You had pulled back instinctively, but she only followed.

“I don’t bite, loser,” she whispered, her tone sickeningly sweet, “unless you’re into that kind of thing.”

You immediately choked on your own breath and coughed into your sleeve.

“God,” Minjeong laughed, “you’re such a mess.”

You slammed your textbook closed without meaning to. “I’m not a mess,” you muttered, even though your face was on fire and your hands were shaking slightly.

She leaned forward again, elbow on the table, chin resting on her palm, just watching you.

“Mm, sure. You’re not a mess. You’re just sweating and stuttering and can’t look me in the eye for longer than five seconds. That’s totally normal,” she said, voice laced with mock sympathy.

You clenched your fists in your lap, biting your tongue.

This was hell. She was hell.

“I don’t know why you’re even here if you’re not going to take this seriously,” you mumbled.

Minjeong blinked slowly. “What makes you think I’m not taking it seriously?”

You blinked back at her, dumbfounded. “Because you haven’t even opened your notebook.”

She smiled, almost innocent. “Yeah, but I’m watching you. That counts.”

“That’s not how studying works,” you said, exasperated, but your voice cracked halfway through the sentence, which absolutely killed any authority you were trying to have.

Minjeong reached across the table, slowly, and grabbed your pen. You thought she was going to mess with you again—but instead, she flipped your notebook toward herself and scrawled something at the top of the page.

You looked.

It said:

Loser Tutor’s Notes (feat. Me, Your Favorite Distraction)

You stared at it, dumbstruck.

“I’m going to murder you,” you said under your breath.

She just grinned wider, teeth flashing. “Now that’s more like it. There’s the spark I wanted to see. Who knew the little mouse could growl?”

You groaned and dropped your head onto the table.

“Oh my god. Please just read the chapter.”

Minjeong didn’t move.

You lifted your head slightly and gave her a side-eye. “What?”

She smiled like the devil. “You’ve got something on your face.”

You blinked. “What—?”

And then, without warning, she reached out and gently brushed her thumb across your cheek. You froze—completely, absolutely froze—because her hand was warm and soft and why was she touching you?!

“There,” she murmured, thumb lingering a beat too long. “Got it.”

You could barely breathe. Your brain was short-circuiting. You were ninety-nine percent sure your soul had just left your body.

She pulled her hand back slowly, eyes locked on yours.

“You look like you’re about to faint,” she said, tilting her head. “Are you okay, tutor?”

You nodded way too fast. “I’m—fine. Totally fine. Great. Studying. Yes.”

Minjeong bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh.

“God, you’re fun,” she whispered.

You looked down at the table, your notebook blurry through the sudden rush of heat in your cheeks. You didn’t know if this was some long-con bullying tactic or actual flirting or just Minjeong being a chaotic menace, but whatever it was—it was working.

You were completely, helplessly flustered.

And Minjeong? Minjeong was thriving.

You were certain the library air conditioning was broken. That had to be it. No way the heat rising in your face, the pounding in your ears, the flushed feeling in your chest—it couldn’t just be because Kim Minjeong was looking at you like she was waiting for you to fall apart.

And you were dangerously close to doing exactly that.

She’d stopped “studying” five minutes ago—if she ever started. Now she was slouched low in her chair, legs stretched out under the table, one of them still brushing yours every time she shifted. She hadn’t moved it. Not once.

You, however, had shifted four times and were now practically sitting sideways in your own chair, clutching your pen like it was a lifeline.

Minjeong tilted her head again, her ponytail swinging over one shoulder. “You keep running away from me and we’re not even on problem three.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat was dry and your face felt like it was melting off.

“Are you nervous?” she asked softly, voice almost gentle. “Because I don’t bite unless you ask nicely.”

You accidentally dropped your pen.

She immediately leaned down to pick it up, and you scrambled—too late. Her fingers brushed yours as she handed it back, and you swear your heart jumped so hard you saw stars.

“Thanks,” you whispered, looking anywhere but her.

“You’re so cute when you’re panicking,” she murmured. “Seriously. I should mess with you more often.”

“You already do,” you muttered, surprising even yourself with how fast it came out.

Minjeong’s brows rose. “Oop. Did the mouse just bite back?”

You clutched your pen tighter. “I’m just trying to help you pass history. That’s it.”

“Yeah? And I’m just trying to help you grow a backbone.”

You looked at her finally, eyes narrowing.

She smiled—lazy, smug, teasing. “It’s working, isn’t it?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. She wasn’t even doing anything outrageous—just being there, being her. Minjeong had this way of making even the smallest things feel dangerous. Flipping her hair, licking her lip, leaning just a little too close when she didn’t need to. It was like she knew what she was doing to you.

And worst of all: it was kind of working.

“I think we should take a break,” you said suddenly, standing a little too fast. Your chair scraped loudly across the floor, drawing a few judgmental librarian glares. You winced and hunched your shoulders.

Minjeong blinked up at you, smirking. “Running away again?”

You didn’t answer. You were already speed-walking toward the little vending machine nook down the hall, trying to calm your nerves. You needed air. Or sugar. Or maybe holy water.

Behind you, you heard her chair scrape, and then the soft click of her shoes as she followed. Of course.

You stared blankly at the vending machine, pretending to decide between juice and soda, even though your hands were shaking too badly to press any buttons.

Minjeong came to stand beside you, casually leaning her shoulder against yours. “If I knew tutoring came with this much entertainment,” she said, “I would’ve signed up ages ago.”

“You’re evil,” you mumbled, pressing a random button. You weren’t even sure what snack you picked. It clunked down into the bin below and you reached for it blindly.

“I’m effective,” she said with a grin.

You didn’t move, just stared down at your snack. “I don’t get you.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “That’s what makes this fun.”

You turned to look at her. She wasn’t teasing now. She looked… curious. Like she was watching you figure something out and enjoying every second of your confusion.

“I don’t know if you’re making fun of me or if this is just your weird way of flirting,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Minjeong tilted her head again. “Can’t it be both?”

Your stomach flipped.

She stepped a little closer—barely noticeable, but enough that you felt her body heat again, that magnetic pull she always seemed to carry with her. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re awkward, and twitchy, and you talk to yourself under your breath, and it’s hilarious. But…”

She hesitated.

“But I think it’s kind of cute.”

You froze.

She leaned in, lips near your ear.

“…Which is really inconvenient, because I was planning on just messing with you until you cried.”

You stared at the vending machine like it held the secrets of the universe.

Then you whispered, “You still might.”

Minjeong laughed.

“Okay,” she said, tugging your sleeve, “break time’s over. Come back. I might actually let you teach me something this time.”

You followed her back to the table.

But your heart was no longer racing from panic.

It was racing because now, you weren’t sure where this game was going.

But you definitely weren’t losing anymore.

_____

You had been trying to keep a low profile. Hoodie up, headphones in, eyes on the ground. But apparently, fate—or maybe just Minjeong—had other plans.

You saw her before she saw you, standing under the shade of a tree with her usual entourage: Jimin, Aeri, and Yizhou. They looked like a poster for a perfume ad—flawless, bored, and too cool for the sun. Minjeong was leaned against the trunk, arms crossed, sipping an iced drink like she owned the quad.

And then she spotted you.

Her eyes lit up, sharp and interested, like she’d just remembered a game she wanted to keep playing. She straightened immediately.

“Loser!” she called, way too loud. Students nearby turned to look. You wanted to sink into the earth.

You paused, already overheating as she sauntered over, her friends watching with curious amusement.

“C’mere,” she said, grabbing your sleeve and tugging you away from the crowd and her clique. “I need to talk to you.”

“Uh, okay,” you mumbled, letting her lead you a few steps away. You glanced nervously at her friends, who were now openly watching the scene.

Minjeong didn’t seem to care. Her grip on your sleeve tightened like she thought you might run away if she let go.

“What’s with the hoodie? You trying to ghost me?” she asked, arching a brow. “You haven’t replied to my texts.”

“I didn’t think you actually… wanted me to,” you said honestly. “I figured you were just messing with me yesterday.”

She gave you a flat look. “If I was just messing with you, I wouldn’t have remembered your hoodie smells like vanilla and anxiety.”

You blinked. “…What?”

“Never mind,” she said quickly, cheeks barely pink. “Listen. There’s a party tonight. You’re coming.”

Your stomach twisted. “Minjeong, I don’t really—”

“Party,” she repeated, voice firmer. “Tonight. You. Me.”

You shook your head. “I’m not a party person. I’ll just—”

“Hey,” came another voice suddenly—light, amused. You turned to see Jimin, striding over, hands in her jacket pockets and smile too pretty to trust.

She gave you a slow once-over. “You’re the little tutor, right?”

Your mouth opened. Nothing came out.

“She’s my tutor,” Minjeong cut in, fast and clipped. “Mine.”

Jimin just smiled wider. “Relax. I’m not stealing your study buddy.” Her eyes flicked to you. “But if she ever gets tired of Minjeong’s attitude, I’m around.”

Minjeong stiffened beside you.

You, meanwhile, were having a mental shutdown.

Jimin winked. “You free tonight, sweetheart?”

Before you could combust on the spot, Minjeong reached over and grabbed your wrist, dragging you back toward the tree.

“She’s busy.”

“Am I?” you asked weakly, trailing behind her.

Jimin finally turned to her, raising a brow. “I didn’t ask what she was doing, Minjeong.”

“She’s going to a party,” Minjeong said through clenched teeth.

“Oh?” Jimin looked back at you, eyes glinting. “Are you?”

“I, um…” You hesitated, caught between them like you were the final rose on a reality show. “She just invited me…”

“She just invited you?” Jimin echoed, mock-surprised. “And you’re going? That easy, huh?”

Minjeong bristled beside you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jimin said innocently, though she looked two seconds from grinning. “I just didn’t know our little tutor was such a yes-girl.”

“Back off,” Minjeong muttered, taking a step closer to you—not touching, but unmistakably claiming.

Jimin smirked, completely unbothered. “Relax, Minjeong. I’m just making conversation. Unless…” She looked at you again. “You wanna ditch her and come with me instead?”

You made a sound that might’ve been a nervous laugh, or maybe just your soul evacuating your body.

But before you could process the chaos any further, Minjeong leaned in close—her voice dropped to something lower, more serious, and surprisingly soft:

“Don’t listen to her.”

Minjeong stopped, turned, and stared at you. Her eyes were… not playful now. Not exactly angry either. Just tense. A little frustrated. A lot possessive.

Then her voice dropped to something quieter. “Come to the party. Please.”

The word please came out soft. Not bratty. Not sarcastic. Just… honest.

You looked up at her, stunned.

“I thought you didn’t care,” you said, barely audible.

Minjeong met your eyes. “I do.”

Just those two words. No teasing. No smug grin.

You swallowed hard, heart thudding. “…Okay. I’ll go.”

Her expression broke into something triumphant, and maybe just a little too pleased. “Good.”

She let go of your wrist—finally—and turned to walk back toward her friends, but not before tossing over her shoulder, “Wear something cute. I don’t want anyone thinking you’re single.”

You stood there, stunned.

And then:

Wait.

Did she just—

_____

Your bed looked like a tornado had passed through it. Clothes were everywhere. Hoodies, jeans, shirts you hadn’t worn since high school—piled up like casualties of war.

You stared at the mirror, frozen.

A skirt.

You were wearing a skirt.

A cute one, too—soft black pleats that hit just above the knee, paired with a tucked-in oversized cream sweater and the tiniest bit of lip tint you nervously applied three times. It was… girly. Way too girly for you. But you had tried jeans first. Three different pairs. And none of them felt right.

But the second you pulled on the skirt and glanced at your reflection, your brain screamed: Minjeong would stare at this.

Which. Was a problem. Because now all you could think about was her reaction. Would she tease you? Laugh? Say something like “Trying to impress me, loser?” and then flash you that smug grin that made your stomach somersault?

You groaned, flopping back onto your bed with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m going to die,” you muttered to the ceiling. “She’s going to eat me alive.”

Your phone buzzed.

[Minjeong]: u ready or r u still panicking abt ur outfit

You stared.

How the hell did she know?

Before you could respond, another message came through:

[Minjeong]: put something cute on. like that skirt u wore in that insta pic 4 months ago. i remember.

Your soul left your body.

That post had maybe three likes. You’d deleted it two hours after posting because you thought you looked awkward. She remembered it?

You swallowed hard, quickly typing back:

[You]: …i am literally wearing that skirt rn

Her reply came instantly:

[Minjeong]: good girl

You dropped your phone face down and covered your face with both hands.

“I’m not surviving this night.”

_____

The music was loud. The lights were low and warm and golden. People spilled out onto the porch and into the kitchen, laughing, dancing, shouting over whatever playlist was blasting from someone’s half-broken speaker.

You stuck to the wall like a nervous cat, clutching a solo cup filled with something fruity you hadn’t even tasted yet. Your heart hadn’t stopped racing since you stepped through the door.

Then—

“Holy shit.”

You turned. It was Minjeong.

Her eyes scanned you up and down. Slowly. She blinked like she’d just walked into something unexpected.

“You actually wore it,” she said, voice low, a little breathy.

You shrugged, cheeks on fire. “You said it looked good.”

Minjeong bit her lip, very visibly, and took a step closer. “I didn’t say good. I said cute. You look… dangerously cute.”

You blinked at her. “Dangerously?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, reaching out to tug at the hem of your sweater, her fingers brushing your bare thigh for a second that felt like an eternity. “Someone might flirt with you again.”

You swallowed. “Is that a problem?”

She stepped in fully now, her body practically brushing yours, voice dropping just enough that it buzzed against your skin.

“It is if it’s not me.”

You laughed nervously, but her eyes didn’t move from yours. She was serious again—Minjeong-serious, which meant she was probably five seconds from either kissing you or ruining your life with one sentence.

“You really look good,” she said softly. “I mean it.”

You nodded, biting your lip.

She looked down at your mouth, then back up.

And just like that, the space between you started to disappear.

The room spun a little, not from the drink—honestly, you were too scared to actually drink much—but from the way Minjeong was looking at you. Focused. Intense. Like she was choosing what to do with you very, very carefully.

You weren’t even sure what you were supposed to do. Say something cool? Flirt back? You were lucky you hadn’t spontaneously combusted the second she touched your thigh.

Minjeong’s fingers lingered on the hem of your sweater, her knuckles grazing skin. She leaned in just a bit more—her mouth dangerously close to your ear—and said, voice low:

“Everyone’s looking at you.”

Your heart jumped so hard you nearly choked.

She pulled back slowly, smug. “Bet you didn’t think wearing that skirt would make you the main character.”

You blinked, struggling to find your voice. “I didn’t wear it for them…”

Minjeong raised a brow.

“I wore it because you asked.”

That got her.

The smirk faltered for a half second, replaced by something softer—surprised, maybe even a little shy, though she’d never admit it. Her tongue poked the inside of her cheek as she looked you over again.

“…You’re gonna kill me,” she muttered under her breath.

And then—

“Hey!” someone shouted across the room. “We’re doing truth or dare in the living room. Get in here, Minjeong! Bring your girlfriend!”

Your brain stuttered.

Minjeong didn’t correct them. Just turned to you with a tilt of her head. “You in?”

“I—” You hesitated. “I’m bad at games.”

“You’re bad at everything,” she replied sweetly. “Come on.”

You were pretty sure your legs didn’t even work right as she grabbed your hand—your hand—and pulled you through the crowd. People glanced over as you passed, some whispering, others straight-up staring. You, the awkward, quiet tutor girl, holding hands with the most terrifyingly attractive brat on campus like it was normal.

You sat down beside her on the floor in the circle, already tense. The game had clearly started—half-empty cups, people mid-laugh, someone yelling about a dare involving whipped cream and the upstairs bathroom.

Minjeong didn’t let go of your hand.

Jimin sat across the circle, raised a brow at the sight of you, and smirked knowingly.

It was Minjeong’s turn. The bottle spun, slow and lazy, until it landed directly on… you.

A chorus of “oooooh”s filled the room.

You swallowed hard.

Minjeong leaned forward, that bratty glint fully returning to her eye. “Truth or dare, loser?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Thought about lying.

“…Truth,” you said weakly.

She pouted. “Coward.”

Then her eyes gleamed.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Do you like anyone right now?”

Your whole soul short-circuited. The entire circle perked up.

Your voice cracked. “That’s your question?”

“What?” she said innocently. “It’s just a game.”

You looked around. Everyone was watching you. Even Jimin, lips curled into a smirk like she already knew the answer. Especially Minjeong—leaned in, eyes locked on yours, like she was testing something.

You looked at your lap. Then, quietly:

“…Yes.”

Minjeong’s smile froze.

And then her voice dropped, quieter than before. “Do I get to know who?”

You looked up.

And just barely—only loud enough for her to hear—you whispered:

“If I said it was you, would you stop teasing me?”

Minjeong blinked. For once, she was speechless.

Then she laughed, almost breathless, and leaned in closer than ever before. “No,” she said. “That would just make me worse.”

And she still didn’t let go of your hand.

like she always did when she got her way.

Minjeong just stared at you. Like she was recalibrating something in her head.

Then, in classic Minjeong fashion, she leaned back like nothing happened at all—like you hadn’t just admitted you liked her in front of a crowd—and said lazily, “About time you said it.”

You flushed to your ears.

Someone whistled from across the circle. “Damn, is this a real thing now?”

“Obviously,” Minjeong replied with a toss of her hair, tightening her grip on your hand like it was proof.

“She didn’t say your name though,” Jimin pointed out slyly, swirling her drink. “Could’ve been me.”

Minjeong’s head snapped around so fast you could feel the heat rolling off her.

“Oh, really, Jimin?” she said, voice all sugar and knives. “You wanna go there again?”

“I’m just saying,” Jimin shrugged. “She did look kinda cute blushing when I talked to her.”

You, still attached to Minjeong’s hand, wished to be buried in a hole. Immediately.

But Minjeong was already turning back to you, letting go of your hand only to casually sling an arm around your shoulders. You stiffened like a board.

“She blushes when I breathe near her,” she told the group, shooting a smug grin at Jimin. “That doesn’t make you special.”

You whispered, “Oh my god,” under your breath.

The group howled with laughter.

You sank lower against the couch, every inch of your body warm, but Minjeong didn’t move her arm. In fact, her fingers started playing with the loose ends of your hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Next round,” someone called, spinning the bottle again. The game moved on, but Minjeong stayed close, thigh pressed to yours, one leg bent so her knee bumped against yours every now and then.

Every time someone got dared to do something loud or messy or flirty, you flinched. But Minjeong? She didn’t let them near you.

“Dare me to kiss anyone here,” someone slurred two seats away, clearly tipsy. “I dare you.”

“Not her,” Minjeong said immediately, pointing at you without even looking up. “She’s off-limits.”

You stared at her.

“Why?” someone asked with a grin.

Minjeong finally turned her head, looked at you—really looked at you, eyes a little darker now, a little softer.

“Because I’m gonna kiss her later.”

And just like that, you forgot how to breathe.

_____

You weren’t sure how you got here.

One second you were in the living room, sitting next to Minjeong with your face burning and your thoughts short-circuiting. The next, she was tugging your hand again, weaving you through the crowd like she owned the place (which, for all you knew, she might), until you reached the back hallway—quiet, dimly lit, with only the low bass of music muffled through the walls.

You stopped just outside an empty guest room.

She let go of your hand but stepped in close again, crowding you gently against the wall, her gaze unreadable but focused like a laser.

“You okay?” she asked, and for the first time tonight, her voice was calm. Serious.

You nodded too fast. “Y-Yeah. Just a little warm.”

Minjeong smiled—crooked and knowing. “You always get like this around me?”

You wanted to lie, but all you could do was squeak, “Maybe.”

She hummed, pretending to think. “That’s cute.”

Your breath caught when she reached up and brushed your hair away from your face. Her fingers were light, warm, more careful than you expected. And you hated—hated—how easily you melted under her touch.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she murmured. “About kissing you.”

Your throat closed up. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she said plainly. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

You looked up at her, heart hammering, cheeks hot. You didn’t say anything—but you didn’t pull away either.

That was enough for Minjeong.

She leaned in slowly, giving you time, watching you for even the smallest flinch.

And when her lips finally brushed against yours—soft, teasing at first—you forgot how to think. It wasn’t rough or rushed or showy like you thought it might be. It was patient. Curious. Gentle, even as her hand settled on your waist and her body pressed a little closer.

You gasped just slightly, and she smiled into the kiss like she’d won a prize.

When she pulled back, it was only by a few centimeters. Her breath was warm on your lips.

“You’re really bad at hiding it,” she whispered.

“Hiding what?” you managed to breathe.

“How much you like me.”

You didn’t deny it.

Minjeong grinned—smug, beautiful, bratty. “Lucky for you, I like you back. Even if you’re a total loser.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said, dazed.

She kissed you again.

And this time, you kissed her back.

_____

The air hit you like a wall the second you stepped out the front door. Crisp, cold, sharp against your legs—the skirt suddenly felt like a criminal choice.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, already regretting not bringing a jacket. Not that you’d planned to be here long enough to need one.

Minjeong followed behind, pulling the door shut, the muffled sound of music and party noise sealing off in an instant. The night was quiet now. Just the wind, a few distant voices, and your heart still fluttering from what had just happened.

“You’re freezing,” she said, eyes flicking to your bare arms.

“I’m fine,” you lied quickly. “It’s not that—”

Before you could finish, she was already sliding off her jacket. Not just any jacket. A black designer bomber, subtly monogrammed with tiny initials and a luxury brand name you definitely couldn’t pronounce.

She held it out.

You blinked at her. “Minjeong, that’s like… probably worth more than my tuition.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a jacket. And you’re shivering.”

“I’m not—”

“Take it,” she said flatly. “Before I get mad about it.”

You stared.

She stared back.

You slowly took the jacket, and the weight of it was immediate. Heavy, expensive, warm—and it smelled like her. Some kind of clean, expensive perfume and something uniquely her. You pulled it on, the sleeves way too long, the shoulders slightly too broad.

And still, it felt… safe.

Minjeong looked you over once, then smirked. “Cute. Loser in designer. New aesthetic?”

You scoffed. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look like you’re mine,” she said under her breath. Then louder: “And it’s not ridiculous if I say it’s hot.”

You nearly tripped over your own feet.

She watched you fumble, grinning smugly, before walking ahead a few steps—then pausing and turning around, waiting for you to follow.

You did, hugging her jacket closer to your body, still buzzing from the kiss, her scent, her voice—everything.

She glanced back at you again.

“You hungry?”

You looked up. “What?”

“I’m starving,” she said. “Let’s go get food. I’m not ready to drop you off yet.”

“Minjeong—”

“Don’t argue,” she cut in. “You’re wearing my jacket. That makes you my responsibility.”

You rolled your eyes, flustered and grinning, and followed her into the cold.

The diner was exactly what you needed. Small, dimly lit, and filled with the faint hum of quiet chatter from a few other late-night customers. The warm glow from the neon signs outside flickered through the windows, giving everything a surreal, almost dream-like feel.

You slid into the booth across from Minjeong, still wearing her oversized designer jacket, which now felt like it belonged to you—despite the overwhelming scent of her still lingering on it. She didn’t say anything as she picked up the menu, her face softening for a split second before she took a casual glance at you.

You glanced down at the menu too, trying to look normal, but your fingers were still numb from the cold and your mind was racing a million miles an hour. You couldn’t stop thinking about what just happened—what she had said, the way she kissed you, how she’d taken off her jacket without hesitation and handed it to you.

She leaned back in the booth, her eyes scanning the menu, though you caught the way her gaze flicked to you every now and then, like she was waiting for you to say something.

“Don’t make me do all the talking,” she finally said, voice teasing. “Order something. It’s late. And I’m starving.”

You nodded, but before you could even pick something, she already waved the waitress over.

“I’ll have the pancakes and a coffee,” Minjeong said casually, flipping the menu shut. Then she turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “You?”

You hesitated, still feeling the weight of the moment, the kiss, the intimacy of it all. Finally, you settled on something easy—“Uhm, I’ll just have a burger, I guess.”

The waitress nodded and left.

You stared at the table, the silence between you stretching on. Minjeong didn’t say anything at first, letting you stew in your thoughts, her posture relaxed but the slight smile on her lips betraying a soft satisfaction.

“You’re really quiet all of a sudden,” she finally remarked, leaning in just a little. “That’s not like you.”

“I’m just… thinking,” you admitted, not really wanting to meet her gaze, but feeling the pull to do so. “About, well… everything.”

Minjeong’s lips curled up, a half-smirk forming. “And what exactly are you thinking about?” Her voice was lighter, teasing, but there was something underneath it, a small vulnerability that slipped through the cracks in her usual brash demeanor.

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to explain. “Just… you know. How things just kinda… happened?”

She tilted her head, eyes scanning your face for a moment. “It wasn’t that sudden, was it?” she asked, her tone more serious now, the playful edge gone.

You shrugged. “I mean, you were kind of… teasing me all night, and then the kiss, and now we’re here. I guess I didn’t really think it’d go this way.”

Her gaze softened a little, and she leaned forward just enough to close the space between you two. “You didn’t think I’d kiss you?”

You shook your head, feeling like an idiot. “No, I— I don’t know what I thought.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Minjeong reached across the table, her fingers brushing against yours for the briefest second, making your heart skip a beat.

“I’m not gonna lie,” she said softly, her gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that was rare for her. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

You froze.

“I just didn’t know if you’d want it. I didn’t know if you’d be into it.” She paused, biting her lip in that way that sent a shiver through you. “But when you looked at me like that… I kinda lost control.”

You felt your face flush again, your chest tightening. “You’ve been wanting to kiss me? Seriously?”

She smirked again, just a little, but there was no mistaking the softness in her eyes now. “Why do you think I’ve been teasing you? Flirting with you?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your mind was still processing. Minjeong… wanted you? All along?

Before you could speak, the waitress arrived with their orders, setting the plates down with a quiet smile before walking off.

You reached for your burger, but your hand was shaking—just a little.

Minjeong noticed.

She leaned back in the booth, crossing her arms over her chest, the soft smile still on her lips as she watched you carefully. “Relax,” she said gently. “I’m not gonna bite. At least, not unless you want me to.”

You shot her a playful look, finally shaking your head and trying to settle into the moment. “I’m still figuring out what to do with you.”

“Good luck with that,” Minjeong said with a grin, reaching for her coffee. “I’m not easy, you know.”

You laughed quietly, still trying to get used to the idea of this—her teasing, her soft moments, the fact that she wanted to be close to you.

Minjeong’s eyes softened again, a little less cocky now, a little more real. “I’m serious though,” she said, her voice quieter, almost shy. “You do look cute in my jacket.”

You smiled, a little more at ease. “Thanks, Minjeong.”

“Anytime, loser.”

______

You took a bite of your burger, still flustered but feeling more comfortable now that the silence wasn’t quite as awkward. Minjeong was sipping her coffee, her fingers wrapped loosely around the mug, and you couldn’t help but notice the way she looked—more relaxed than usual, a little less like the untouchable queen of the campus and a little more like… well, someone you could actually talk to.

After a few more seconds of silence, you caught her glancing at you, a playful glint in her eye as she waited for you to say something.

And, for some reason, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Jeongie,” you said out of nowhere.

Minjeong blinked, the coffee cup pausing halfway to her lips as she stared at you. “What did you just call me?”

You tried to hold back your smile, knowing you had the upper hand now. “Jeongie. It fits you. You can’t just be ‘Minjeong’ all the time. It’s way too formal.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Jeongie?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, your grin getting wider. “It’s cute. I think it suits you better than ‘Minjeong.’ It sounds more… playful. Fun.”

Minjeong set her cup down, a small laugh escaping her as she leaned forward, looking at you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Jeongie, huh? Is that what you think of me?”

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite the fact that your heart was suddenly racing again. “I don’t know. I mean, you’re definitely a little bratty sometimes, but I think you have a softer side. I think you like the nickname.”

Minjeong leaned back in the booth, crossing her arms and giving you a sideways smile. “You’re bold, aren’t you?”

You shrugged again, but this time your grin was playful. “What can I say? You bring it out in me, Jeongie.”

Her eyes narrowed in mock annoyance, but there was something warmer behind them now—something that made her seem less like the untouchable goddess and more like someone real. Someone you could actually imagine getting to know better.

“You’re gonna regret that nickname, loser,” she said with a sly grin, but there was no heat behind it. In fact, her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile.

“No way,” you retorted confidently, biting into your burger. “It’s perfect. You look more like a Jeongie than a Minjeong anyway.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, she leaned across the table again, her face now just inches from yours. “You’re so cute when you’re being a little brat, you know that?”

Your breath caught at the closeness. The teasing tone in her voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“Stop flirting,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Minjeong’s smirk only deepened, and she sat back in her seat again, eyes never leaving yours. “I’m not flirting. I’m just telling you the truth.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Jeongie, you’re impossible.”

“That’s why you like me,” she replied smoothly, looking far too smug for someone who had just claimed that they weren’t flirting.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you filled with a mix of teasing and something else—something soft, almost like you were both trying to get used to the idea that you were sitting here together, just the two of you, talking in a way that felt more real than the game you’d been playing earlier that night.

Then, Minjeong’s voice broke the silence, quieter than before.

“You know, I’m really glad you came tonight,” she said, her tone a little more genuine, less teasing. “I… I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up to the party. Or if you’d even want to be around me, after everything.”

You were caught off guard by the vulnerability in her voice. Minjeong—Jeongie—wasn’t the type to let people see her like this. She was usually cocky, sure of herself, a little untouchable.

But now? There was something else there. Something softer.

“I almost didn’t,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “But… I’m glad I did too. I… I like being around you. Even if you’re a brat.”

Minjeong looked down for a second, almost like she was processing your words, before her gaze met yours again. There was that familiar spark in her eyes, but it was mixed with something else now—something warmer.

“I like being around you, too, loser,” she said softly, before leaning back in the booth with her usual cocky grin. “But don’t get used to me being nice.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, feeling a wave of warmth spread through you. There was something about this side of her—the side she only showed when it was just the two of you—that made you feel a little braver. A little more confident.

“Jeongie, I don’t think I could ever get used to you being nice,” you teased, feeling more playful now. “You’re way too much of a brat for that.”

Her eyes sparkled as she leaned forward again, her voice low and dangerous. “Keep calling me that, and I’ll make sure you never forget who’s in charge, loser.”

The intensity of her gaze sent a thrill through you, but you couldn’t help but smirk back.

“Only if you can keep up, Jeongie.”

[yuutawe]

UNDER THE WATER. } yuta okkotsu . . .

ꖛ summary * an aquarium date with your nerdy boyfriend.

ꖛ warnings! * fluff + sfw‎ ‎ ‎ ‎college au, photographer yuta‎‎ ‎!‎ ‎ ‎ he's a nerd over marine animals, and you love it !‎ ‎ ‎ a lot of stupid facts about jellyfish !‎ ‎ ‎ ‎yuta is 20, reader is 21 in this (although nothing happens) !‎ ‎NOT PROOFREAD.

ꖛ about. * reader is gender-neutral. no anatomy specified + they/them pronouns and genderless nicknames.

ꖛ author's note * this feels really rushed but sighhhhh. just had the idea and wanted to write it down. i hope it's not bad for a first post here. english is not my first language, so i apologize for any mistakes.

ꖛ word count ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 899.

some say that love at first sight is nonsense, but yuta and you have a beautiful variation of this cliché: love at first click. you can still remember his surprised expression when he took the first picture of you. it was simple, an okay request. he needed a model to sit on campus to test the new camera. and then click. one photo became three, and he complimented your physique a lot.

nervous stuttering of calling you photogenic evolved into asking you to be his model more often — until you took the first step to ask for his number. and a year later, you two stand strong: walking down the aquarium while holding hands.

“oh, yeah— and jellyfish have no brains, hearts, or lungs! they’re very simple organisms, actually.” yuta rambles, pointing to one of the little creatures in question, which simply swims without thinking about much. it is surprising that apparently such thin glass can support such a large amount of water.

you nod slowly, hearing every word with the utmost attention, because, really, how could you not? he's usually so shy and speaks so little around other people, but at home or with you, he can just talk about his extremely nerdy interests. it was one of the things that brought you two closer, in fact. (although, it would have been better if he flirted back instead of rambling about the structure of a camera that one day…)

“so, how are they built like?” you ask, already knowing (superficially) that jellyfishes don’t actually have any of these organs. you just want to hear that gentle, smooth voice with a hint of excitement break it down to you.

yuta smiles so widely, as if he couldn't be happier that you asked. so cute, you think.

“okay, okay. think about it.” he lets go of your hand for the smallest of moments, to gesture as he explains — pouting for a second. but it is for the greater good of getting you to understand the biology of jellyfish. “their bodies are made up of just three layers— the outer epidermis, a gelatinous middle layer called the mesoglea, and the inner gastrodermis.”

again, you nod along to his explanation — even if now you're more focused on the cute way his fingers move to draw the patterns in the air more than the words themselves. but you can't resist the opportunity to make a joke.

“layers? like onions?”

“no, love, not like onions—” he sighs, almost sounding disappointed by your comparison. he pouts like a bunny about to throw a tantrum and stomp the ground furiously. you can't help but laugh at the way his lips curve, and you grab his wrist for an apology.

you bring his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it slightly. it always makes him red in the face, and he cups your cheek softly, trying to keep you close.

“okay, not like onions. got it.”

yuta huffs slightly — murmuring something about accepting your mistakes — before he goes back to rambling. however, now you are lost in thought.  jellyfish have an elementary nervous system with receptors that detect light, vibrations, and chemicals in the water. Along with the ability to sense gravity, these capabilities allow the jellyfish to navigate... it all goes over your head as you think: how did you two get here? from small texts and giggles, to letters and home dates. to stargazing to kissing, and so much more—

“love?” he asks, more worried than upset. “you’re silent. are you alright?” yuta is quick to reach for your hand again, his dark blue eyes reminding you that he is prettier than the ocean. soft, gentle and warming as a bonfire, but calm and fluid as the water.

“yes. just thinking about how much i like hearing you talk about stupid fish.”

he gasps dramatically, pretending to be offended. “just for you to know, despite the name, jellyfish are actually cnidarians, which are a type of invertebrate—”

before he can ramble any longer, your fingers detach from his, and both of your gentle hands come up to grab him by the cheeks. yuta would protest, but soon your lips are glued to his, and his brain melts.

all information about any kind of marine animal just disappears, and you are all that is left on his mind. the taste of your lips, the smoothness of your hands, the prettiness of your eyes. you, you, you.

you lean back, giving him that little smirk that tells the poor man you know exactly what you just did. you threw him off his feet.

“what were you saying, yuta? about— cnidarians?”

“i—” he sighs, smiling softly and muttering a what am i going to do with you under his breath. “i don’t actually remember.”

you chuckle, kissing his cheek and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. yuta bumps his nose against yours gently, and you hear someone complaining about young couples nowadays have no shame.

“what do you want to see next?” he asks lovingly.

“let’s take a look at puffer fish.” you mutter back, giving a small peck to his lips before pulling away. he smiles excitedly, going back to his rambles.

“oh, did you know that adult puffer fish have just four teeth, fused together into one strong beak? they use this to open clams or mussels, and scrape algae off rock—”

© made by spiralryomen on tumblr. do not copy, repost, translate my works in this or any other side — inspirations allowed with credits.

[tfgalore]

Casper was the cockiest jock around the small town he lived in. Always bullying nerds or those he deemed weak, never facing any repercussions, and living life to the fullest with his rich parents backing him. They even got him that truck he loved flexing in front of.

But that all quickly changed when the Great Shift struck. Almost every guy alive was affected, and Casper would quickly find his life heading on a downturn. He wasn’t one of the lucky few who ended up with an equivalent body. Or the ones who really lucked out by being shifted into a stud. Nope. Casper, finally reaping his bad luck after years of smooth sailing, was put into Charlie. A 40 year old man who seemed just about as active and interested in exercise as a corpse.

Poor Casper was asleep when it happened, and waking up unable to turn onto his side easily was a shocker. “What the fuck!?” He had yelled when he got his first look at his new body. Balding, fat, and clearly not the best off financially from the look of the shoddy apartment.

The first thing the poor former jock could think to do was log onto his now old and outdated phone and search up his Instagram. To his shock and anger, Charlie seemed to be having a blast in his body, living it up by saying he was one of the few to be spared the Great Shift.

“That fucker is trying to steal my life!” Casper growled and vowed to get back into his body. But unfortunately for him, despite years of trying, all he ended up with was a restraining order against his former self. He would just have to get used to being “Charlie.” And despite being formerly straight, Charlie’s body had a heavy attraction to men, which fucked with Casper’s brain even more. The once cocky hunk couldn’t resist the reoccurring urge to search up his old Instagram and jerk off to all the new pictures his body was putting up.

——————-——————-——————-—————

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[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

I love how after all the I'M THE BIG SCARY EMBODIMENT OF DEATH WHERE ARE MY BODIESSSSSSSS bit rio just wants to sit and TALK to her wife. that's all she ever wanted, ONE MATURE CONVERSATION

and I also adore the way aubrey chose to sit here 10/10 no notes

both know that the Road isn't real but they talk as if its power is real. because it is, like I said, Billy created a 100% functional, DEADLY Road

so we learn that tommy is still a soul floating somewhere and billy is the only one who can give him a new body. it's interesting that Death herself couldn't find and collect tommy's soul, it means that, like everything concerning wanda and billy, it's beyond Death's realm of expertise - which is the natural order of things. she hates ghosts because they're souls that resist the sacred cycle and linger behind on earth. billy and tommy are even worse than ghosts because they bend the rules even further.

is agatha bluffing when she gives up on billy this easily? yes and no. she is a huge nerd and a scheming mastermind so she'll keep looking for a way to save billy - but if she doesn't, she fully believes she'll be capable to sacrifice him to save herself and be absolutely fine about it, she won't die of Severe Grief Constipation or anything

oh?? but what is this? is rio hesitating? did detective agnes find a clue?

bingo!! lol her jessica fletcher light bulb moments

rio looks SO grumpy. curse her wife's beautiful brain! this is the first time we ever see agatha take the upper hand I think

billy the marvelous immortal homosexual

YEAH NO SHIT SHERLOCK. oh no, Death is really cute when she's all frustrated about the Sacred Balance. she's such a nerd too.

yes agatha you're a genius! like all your plans this is going to work spectacularly and won't blow up in your face or anything of the sort

goddamnit

rio immediately calls bullshit

agatha walks toward her and look at rio's body language, she's getting ready, but it's almost playful. this is what they do, agatha bluffs and rio gently but firmly calls her out. she's going to learn what's agatha's latest scheme and she's gonna fix it. this is what she's always been doing, she brings balance to agatha's chaotic existence. or at least, she tries to.

I cannot express enough how stupid this woman is. like, she is so smart but she's is SUCH a clown. COMPLETELY incapable of making good choices

rio is like, HA, nice try sweetums, but that's not how it works

but as agatha talks, rio's face start to fall

this is agatha lashing out, making it once again all about herself and punishing rio for her grief. agatha is making her own life hell, she's not going to magically feel fine if rio goes away. can you imagine what would happen if she handed billy over and rio left her alone? agatha would probably fall back into her most toxic habits and commit so many atrocities to numb the pain, she'd be so completely alone and miserable.

a long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long time from now (stupid ass clown)

aaaaaand she went and did it. she said the most hurtful thing she could come up with. that's what happens when you fight with someone you know so intimately, you can pick the magic words that will inflict the most damage. not only she doesn't want to see rio now, she doesn't want to see her when she dies. yes, you heard that right rio! fuck your sacred balance, fuck the natural order of things, you'll have to bend the rules for me again! you don't get my soul, and what's worse, you don't get to bring me to nicky. you're NEVER going to fix me. I'd rather roam the world as a disgusting, angry ghost!

there is some scheming too because this is agatha we're talking about and becoming a ghost is a good contingency plan. but mostly? she's just angry, she's scared, she's hurting. and she's just made a huge mistake.

count how long it takes for rio to answer. twenty seconds, that is an eternity on a tv show. she opens her mouth but can't find the words, she looks down, she looks to the side, she can't believe what just happened. it's like agatha slapped her.

and this is all she says in the end: okay.

okay, you win. okay, I've had enough. okay, it's over.

we're over.

and this pathetic sad sack of a woman just goes, wait... what?

she was bluffing. she's always treated rio as a bottomless well of patience and forgiveness, as her very own emotional punching bag. rio has demonstrated time and time again that no matter how low agatha punches, she will always come back. but there comes a time when even the person who loves you the most will give up on you if you give them nothing and demand everything in return.

rio was the person who loved agatha no matter what. until today.

so far it's always been agatha running away or demanding rio to leave. it's the first time rio just up and leaves on her own.

consequences of your own actions, baybeeeeee

NO, rio, don't look back you ridiculous bottom of a sapphic, STAND YOUR GROUND. no time for a te veo. don't try to be cool! just go!!!! you're DEATH for christ's sake!! have some dignity!!

she looks back TWICE. you know if agatha fell on her knees and begged right now rio would take her back in a heartbeat, like a LOSER.

I can't with rio cutting open the set with her knife and leaving, I saw it the first time and went, oh that's cool! no, it kinda looks cheap and ridiculous? no, wait, it's actually brilliant??? love that they had no CGI budget and had to come up with stuff like this, it's a great callback to wandavision and hints at the Road being staged. and only rio can see it!

"yeah whatever, this is exactly what I wanted!!! doesn't hurt one bit!!!!!!! all according to plan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

next up: agatha is absolutely calm and composed and doesn't at all go ballistic on billy and jen.

go to episode 8 part 4

[toomuchracket]

it's your birthday (office nerd matty x reader fluff)

this is teeny tiny but very sweet and it's also for my sweet friend @wreckedandpolemic i love you very much!! <3

“these shoes were a mistake.”

matty squeezes your hand, turning to look at you; when he drops a kiss to the side of your head, you feel him smiling against your skin. “trust me, darling, they were not.”

you pout. “but they're hurting me.”

“oh, baby,” your boyfriend leans down to kiss you quickly, hands cupping your jaw even after he pulls away. you smile at him, and his cheeks go your favourite shade of pink. “almost home, yeah? five minutes longer, and then you can just lie down and let me continue to indulge your every whim for the rest of the night, alright?”

“dirty.”

“well, no,” matty blushes even harder - you don't miss the way his cheeks are twitching, though, a smile threatening to break out onto that gorgeous face of his. “not necessarily, i mean - obviously i would never, ever say no to doing sexy stuff with you, not at all, i just meant that i’d also, like, put your favourite films on and make you hot chocolate and give you massages and-”

“matty, sweetheart, breathe,” you bring your index finger to his lips, softly stopping his breathless monologue and bringing him back to earth. “i know what you meant, angel. just couldn't resist the innuendo, that's all,” you clasp your hands behind his neck, heart fluttering at the sight of him all beautiful and moonlit and looking adoringly at you. “you're so good to me, you know? today's been perfect.”

“s'the least i could do, darling,” matty kisses the bridge of your nose. “lovely girls deserve lovely birthdays.”

“god, you're so cute. where on earth did i find you?”

he hums happily, leaning in to kiss you quickly before tucking you under his arm and continuing to walk towards your flat. “it is actually kinda mental that we met at work, isn't it?”

“you think?”

“well, you don't necessarily expect to start a new job and meet the most beautiful woman in the world there,” he drops another kiss onto your head, as natural as breathing; his little casual displays of affection are one of the things you love most about matty. “let alone falling in requited love with her and buying a flat with her and adopting her dog as your own.”

you laugh, leaning in to kiss his neck - chastely, but still positioned strategically enough to make his breath hitch. “you had no choice in that last bit, you know. maggie loves you more than she loves anyone else,” the wind picks up slightly, and you snuggle further into matty to keep the cold away. “she takes after me with that one.”

“and with getting bored during star wars.”

“oh, christ, not this again,” you sigh, sliding your keys from your pocket when you turn onto you and matty’s street. “i wasn't bored, i just knew what was happening afterwards,” you smirk, leaning against the wall of your apartment building while matty takes your keys and unlocks the door. “that was a good birthday, wasn't it?”

“possibly the most rhetorical question ever asked,” matty scoffs, leading you inside and calling the lift down. “second-best you've ever looked, in that outfit.”

you frown. “second-best? what's the best i've ever looked, then?”

matty beams. “right now.”

“oh, you're such a sap,” you groan; internally, though, your heart is aglow and there are butterflies in your stomach and you're pretty sure you can hear alex turner singing baby i'm yours somewhere in the back of your brain. and you know matty knows how you really feel, but you kiss him anyway, just to reiterate it. “but i love you very much.”

“and i love you,” he kisses you back, passionate and perfect, tugging you into the lift and into his arms, murmuring into your ear while he presses the button for your floor. “have you had a good birthday, darling?”

you smile into his shoulder. “the best.”

[xoxochb]

im so bad at requests but i saw ur post asking for song suggestions for fics to base off of and i think u should do “so high school” by taylor swift if it’s not done already <33

jason or leo x reader would fit well but everything else is ur choice!!

⋆·˚ ༘ * I feel so high school every time I look at you

warnings: all of part two is an intense make out, and part one, two, and three all have sexual insinuations but I think that’s it

pairing: american footballer! jason grace x nerd! fem reader

A/N: this song needs to be injected in my veins

1. you know how to ball, I know aristotle

“do you want my help or not?” you throw your pencil on your bed

“yes, yes, I’m sorry” jason stifles a laugh

“alright, then act like it. this paper is due tomorrow, einstein.” you pick up your pencil “okay, you can do division, right?”

“of course I can! who do you think I am?” he places a hand on his chest to show is (dramatic) shock

you hit his head with your pencil, “I know you’re smart, I know you, but you’ve got to use your brain for something other than football”

“yes ma’am” he picks up his pencil and moves his position on your bed from in front of you to beside you

“then let’s do it! the more time you was the less time we can actually hang out and talk and stuff” you point to his paper, encouraging him do his homework

“hang out and talk, except there’s not going to be a lot of talking-”

you cut him off with an elbow to his rib cage, and he holds his stomach dramatically

“I am your boyfriend! what did I do to deserve such treatment?” he gives you puppy eyes

“you’re an idiot, that’s what you are” you roll your eyes

“that is also your boyfriend” he pokes your cheek, and you hit is hand away

“let’s get to work, do you want to do this all night?” you sigh

“no because I really wanna-”

you cut him off again, but this time with a hard slap of your hand to his head

2. your friends are around so be quiet, I’m trying to stifle my sighs

“jase-”

your cut off with a kiss

“jason” you push him off

“y/n, I love you, but please shut up” he pulls you back in

but you pull pack and he pouts, “jason, we have to go”

“we don’t have to go you know?” he squeezes your waist and kisses your jaw

you sigh. who are you to resist him?

you pull him back in, and you let yourself lay down so he can have easier access to your lips

you let him slip his hands underneath your shirt as the kisses get messier

“you’re so beautiful” he mumbles against your lips

his hands slides his hands higher up, your shirt which is basically half-off at this point

he trails his kisses lower, you tug on his hair at the action, and he lets out a content sigh

you put your hands on the back of his neck, pulling his lips back to yours

he moves his hands to the hem of your shirt, “can I?”

“I’m literally begging you, please do”

he laughs and does as you ask

you try your best to pull his lips impossibly closer to yours

“so beautiful” he pulls away for a second to look at you with lovestruck eyes

you pull him back in, and between breathless kisses you say, “just keep kissing me, idiot”

3. you knew what you wanted, and boy you got her

you wake up the next morning to the smell of cooking. pancakes could it be?

you reach for jason only to find out he’s not beside you

you stand up from the bed and make your way to the kitchen, where you find your blond boyfriend indeed cooking pancakes, and what you also notice is that he’s shirtless

oh god he’s hot you think

“I could say the same about you” he laughs

your eyes widen, “did I say that out loud?”

“I could lie and say no” he slides the pancakes onto a plate

“you’re stupid” you walk over to the counter, sitting on it, and he stand between your legs, hands on your hips

“you look good in my shirt” he smirks, looking down at the shirt you had on, which was his

you smile, “and you look good without one”

“I think I figured that out last night”

you hit his shoulder and shake your head, “there’s something wrong with you”

“you love me” he kisses you

you hum in agreement, “I love you”

4. I feel like laughing in the middle of practice

you loved watching your boyfriend’s football games almost as much as you love your boyfriend

what you love even more is when he wins and comes running over to you, forgetting about the fact he even won the game

he ran over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, picking you up and spinning you around, and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug

you laugh, and pull him in for a kiss

“I told you I’d win for you” he whispers, pulling away

you smile widely, pulling him in again

you hear his teammates calling for him behind you, but you know he doesn’t care what they have to say, because all he cares about is having you in his arms after yet another great game

[oldwritingm]

HI POOKS!! So like this idea popped into my head so if it's alright with you could you do hc's for Ninjago where the ninja have a s/o who gets brain washed during a mission and is forced to fight their partner. (one of the ninja) To make it interesting, when the reader is brainwashed they say really hurtful things but the ninja have to keep it together because they know the reader doesn't mean it. At the end, when the reader is back to normal the ninja of that scenario tells the reader about everything(and what they said) and the reader feels guilty which leaves the ninja of that scenario telling them that it's fine and they're just happy the reader is safe. Hopefully that made sense thank you so much pookie!!❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Me when you 💖

Anyway teehee here you go!!

Ninjago - Ninjas When You Get Brainwashed

Kai

When you attacked him, he thought you were just being playful

Bad timing, considering you were on a mission, but not exactly alarming

You guys love to play fight and banter, so it took him a minute to realize that something was wrong

It was the look in your eyes that gave you away; there was no humor, no affection, nothing but rage behind those e/c irises

"You hit like a toddler! And you look like one, too, with that stupid spiky hair!"

Kai felt his heart twist at each insult

Knowing that you weren’t joking around made the words lose their hilarity

It also made him hesitant to fight you back; he didn't want to exacerbate whatever was going on here

So he just tried his best to dodge, blocking the blows he wasn't quick enough to evade

He asked you what was wrong, but only received more degrading remarks in response

Your incessant attacks with no acknowledgment for anything he said or did clued him in on the true nature of your behavior

Realizing you were brainwashed, he refocused his energy to thinking of a way to snap you out of it

Only one idea came to his mind; it was stupid, it was risky considering you were trying to kill him, but it was all he had

He stopped dodging you, letting you lunge at his throat

As you dove in, he grabbed your collar and pulled you in for a kiss

At first he felt you resisting, but he held on, and gradually you melted into his touch

When you pulled away, the hatred in your eyes had disappeared

You put your hand over your mouth, disgusted at your actions

“Kai, I’m so sorry! I think I got brainwashed—I didn’t mean any of that.”

“Don’t worry about it, my flower. Nothing I haven’t seen from you before, right? I’m just happy you’re in your right mind again.”

You smirked at his remark, leaning in to peck his cheek

He took your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles

“Come on, we’ve got a mission to finish.”

Jay

Jay shrieked when you pounced on him

He knew right away that something was wrong

You’d never do this; not to him

And the words you used… completely out of character

You and Jay were always sweet to each other, even when you were teasing

So your sudden barrage of insults and blows was much more than strange

Being a science fiction nerd, he guessed that you’d been brainwashed first try

He wasn’t serious when he thought of it at first, but he quickly realized that this was the only logical explanation

He couldn’t think of anything else that would cause you to act like this so suddenly

Mostly because he was preoccupied running from you and trying not to cry as you degraded him

He refused to lay a hand on you; no matter how brutish you were with him, he was determined not to hit back

So he just ran

Eventually you backed him into a corner

Your taunts were just getting annoying at this point—now that Jay had processed that it wasn’t really you, they just seemed redundant

You walked closer, slowly, talking all the while

"Tch, look at you... I can't believe I ever agreed to date you! Look at how pathetic you are!"

Jay’s hands balled into fists as he only got angrier

When you got within range, his body moved on its own

He clocked you on the side of the head, hard

You stumbled to the ground, and Jay gasped as he realized what he had done

“Y/n! Y/n, are you okay? Oh my stars, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“…Jay? Oof, what ha… oh. Oh no. Jay, honey, I’m the one who should be apologizing! I didn’t mean any of that! Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?”

You brought yourself up to a sitting position, cupping Jay’s face in your hands and examining it with concern

You knew that he could be sensitive, and considering what you just did… you were on the verge of panicking

He just closed his eyes, leaning into your touch with a soft smile

“I didn’t listen. I knew it wasn���t you. You’d never do that to me. I’m so glad you’re back, Y/n.”

Cole

Your relationship with Cole is fairly stable; you rarely have disputes because you're both pretty easygoing, which means you're willing to accommodate/compromise before any conflict arises

The minute you attacked him, screaming hurtful words, he knew that something was up

He tried asking what was wrong, but only got a kick to the shin in response

Luckily he’s a pretty sturdy guy, so he stood his ground, blocking your attacks while trying to speak to you

“Y/n! Just—ow—tell me what’s wrong!”

He was really trying to be patient with you, but it was a little difficult with each new soon-to-be bruise planted on his body

His waning patience combined with the knowledge that you were on a mission eventually motivated him to restrain you

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pinning your arms to your sides and lifting you off the ground

“Let me go, you… piggish brute! You unlovable barbarian! Release me!!”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

He squeezed tighter with every insult, eventually forcing the breath out of your lungs

You went quiet for a few moments, and that’s when he finally decided to put you down

You stumbled, having almost just fainted, but he caught you in his arms

With your body in his lap, Cole brushed a strand of hair away from your face

“Can you please tell me what’s going on now, my love?”

“Cole… I think I was brainwashed. I’m sorry, I… I can’t believe myself—”

“Not another word. That makes sense, actually. I’m just relieved that you weren’t mad at me or something. And I’m glad that you’re safe now, of course.”

He kissed your forehead, lifting you bridal style, making you giggle

He planted you on your feet and interlaced your fingers before nodding forward, urging you to follow him to complete your mission

Zane

You hadn't even said or done anything and Zane was able to detect that subtle difference

He didn't know what it was at first, so he prepared himself for anything as you ran at him

Judging your behavior, he quickly determined that you must've been brainwashed

The only trouble now was figuring out how to bring you back to reality

There were a hundred ways he could think of to un-brainwash someone... but which one would work?

"I don't know why I ever thought I could love you. You're a robot! You try to act human, but you'll never be like me. You'll never be enough for me."

This particular insult shook him out of his thoughts

The pain in his heart stunned him just long enough for you to pounce, pinning him to the ground

But as he fell, he reminded himself that this wasn't really you; the words that fell from your lips weren't your own

Now that pain bubbled into rage; you were being controlled, and you didn't deserve that

"Get. Out. Of. Their. Head!"

With a sudden burst of strength, Zane launched you off of him, switching your positions

Now, having you pinned, Zane glared into those hateful eyes

You entered a staring—no, glaring—contest

Gradually, as Zane squinted harder, gritted his teeth tighter, he saw your eyes soften

Eventually they fluttered shut for a moment, and when they opened again he knew you were back

His face immediately lit up, and he beamed at you

You smiled back as it all returned to your memory

"Thank you, Zane. I hope you know I didn't mean anything I said."

"Yes, yes. I'm only glad you're safe."

"Good. ...Uh, can you get off me now?"

Both blushing furiously, you scrambled to your feet

Zane awkwardly (but much to your relief) changed the subject by prompting you to return to your mission

Lloyd

You and Lloyd always talked things out when you had problems

You never took to petty insults during these talks, either

So when you came barreling at him, cursing him like an evil sorcerer, he knew something was up

At first he tried asking you what was wrong, but seeing that his words didn't register, focused instead on dodging your attacks

As he jumped around, avoiding your mechanically fast-paced blows, he noticed a strange look in your eye

It was as if a mask of hatred had been plastered on your face, and the real you was trapped behind it

Keep in mind this was a very slow realization; Lloyd had to divide his attention between dodging your hits, blocking out your words, and trying to figure out what was going on

In the time it took him to figure this out, you had worn yourself out quite a bit

Your breathing was heavy and ragged, and your form was becoming sluggish

Lloyd was losing energy too, but not quite as quickly

He decided to keep dodging until you wore yourself out

When your punches became slow and weak enough to bear, Lloyd stopped his agile movements and planted himself square in front of you

At this point, you were so tired that your punch to his chest was a mere touch, a brush of the knuckles against his green gi

"You... worthless... wannabe..."

He cupped your face, staring deep into your eyes, trying to get a glimpse of the real you inside

"Y/n."

The sound of your name stirred something in those dull, disdainful eyes

He said it again, softer now, and the mask broke

"Lloyd."

"Y/n. You're safe now. It's okay."

You slumped against him, murmuring apologies into his shoulder as he smoothed your hair

As much as he wanted to let you recover, he needed your help to finish the mission

He held out his elbow, earning a smirk from you as you placed your hand in the crook of it, allowing him to escort you forward

Nya

She was NOT having it

The very first insult you spat sent her into a rage almost rivaling yours

"Still can't believe they let a girl like you on the team. I mean, talk about a weak link!"

"Excuse me?!"

Her rage blinded her, and she fully engaged you in combat

You were both fighting with everything you had, making quite the commotion

Insults and fists flying, you'd never guess that you guys were actually dating

The thought occurred to Nya only after she had bested you, pinning you to the ground with her knee on the back of your neck

Still angry, she demanded to know why you did it

The fighting had disoriented you, shaking the effects of the brainwashing for just a second

"Nya, I... Gah! Get off me, brat!"

It was brief, but she saw you fighting to get out

Realizing at once what was going on, guilt flooded Nya's conscience

But she didn't let you go just yet

"Come on, Y/n! Fight it!"

"Stupid! Stupid stupid stupid—stupid brainwashing..!"

"Y/n? Is that you?"

"Yes. Yes, it's me. Oh, Nya, I'm so sorry..."

"I think we should both be a little sorry. I shouldn't have jumped you like that without thinking. But I'm glad you're back; you're a fighter."

You smiled at her when she offered her hand to help you up

Still holding her hand, you pulled her into a quick kiss

"We both are. Which reminds me... Shall we get back to the mission?"

Thanks for reading! And thanks to the sweet anon for this request! Take care loves <33

(divider by saradika)

[justhereformyblorbos]

my blorbos… I miss them… so I put them into lumon aka hargreeves hell corporation

spoilers for severance and all seasons of tua under the cut

I guess technically they’re all Helenas if Reginald is Kier huh.

I started drawing before 2x07 dropped and ruined my life but honestly it still works

So they grew up in one of those hargreeves-controlled schools under the slightly culty environment doing missions and training to become the next generations (perhaps competing to be the heir to the “revolving whatever that is)

Five was the most promising but gets lost at an ORTBO and gets taken in by the Commission, perhaps a resistance or rival company that is just as shady (think Reghabi)? Unsure of whether to combine Reginald/Lumon and the Commission or not. For some reason he is still a child, and everyone reacts to him like they do to Miss Huang.

After that, their team isn’t doing so hot. One day Ben “dies” and it fractures their little family for good.

Later in the world, they’re struggling and eventually return to their dad’s company that they once ran away from in various different ways, and each get severed and go through the horrors.

Number 1 (Luther) - I think Milchick’s devotion to Reginald, Mark’s optimism and initial obedience, Irving’s initial love of Lumon texts, and Sloane in another department being his tragic office wife could be juicy… The one who never left the ideals of Reginald without being fully aware of what they were doing, and slowly have his worldviews change and his adoration for Reginald fall apart (but not before doing some rough things under the impression that he is RIGHT). I know the . romance. With Allison is a thing in the show but. for this alternative universe they will simply be close coworkers who support and inspire each other to rebel OKAY? okay. I think having Sloane taken away from him and finding out Ben’s still alive will more than do it to cause him to get on the side of the innies. I think on the outside he’s super isolated and so crushingly lonely without his siblings ): maybe he gets into illegal underground boxing and gets severe brain damage that necessitates severance? also as an innie he never gets to see space but he’s a super nerd about stars. this is a fact Ben tells him about his outie :)

Number 2 (Diego) - Placing him a little later in the timeline, his outie could be a family man who severed to provide for them? Or a former disgraced detective trying to investigate Reginald and expose his shady stuff after his partner Eudora dies under mysterious circumstances all vigilante style? And also blames Reginald for Ben? Laser focused on revenge and super mean but eventually starts to reach out to his siblings as an outie/innie and realizes how much he misses and cares for them. Then he falls in love with Lila along the way, perhaps two times, innie and outie, while she’s unsevered… could be fun. I could see shades of Dylan, Helly, and Mark in him—a rebellious spirit, deeply loving and determined. Or maybe he has kids with Lila later and they marry which. Makes things complicated. So he also has to navigate fatherhood in this wacky world. AHHHHHHH this isn’t even mentioning his relationship with GRACE. oh god Grace. Nightmare Robot manager… or SEVERED REGINALD EX WIFE??

Number 3 (Allison) - I could see her being a star refiner like Dylan before everything changes when she finds out about Claire. On the outside, she’s a popular actor getting severed as a publicity stunt (think Helena), for the money, and also to escape the difficulties of her divorce and custody battle like Petey. I didn’t get to draw it but on the inside I imagine she uses a wig but in the outside she has her natural hair. OR she pulls an Irving and innie Allison and innie Ray are in love before outie Ray is retired and during the OTC innie Allison leads outie Allison to meet outie Ray. Perhaps she remarries with him, and he gets to visit, except he’s loyal and doesn’t cheat like Gretchen does (no shade she’s so sympathetic I just think Ray wouldn’t do that) so innie Allison’s kinda battling with herself since she loves innie Ray and was the reason outie Allison can be Allison Chestnut but she doesn’t get that…hmm..I think she’d be very much on the side of the innies at first, fiercely criticizing the inhumane conditions and making big swings, but the company leverages Claire and Ray and she ends up swaying to them because because being the voice of the Board paralleling with her Rumor ability and in a equally as devastating arc to s3 would be COOL!!!

Number 4 (Klaus) - Literally homeless, struggling with addiction, and also a gay veteran. (like Irving!!) Turns to Reginald because they will pay him if only he severs his brain. His innie version is more happy to lucky but also is suffering the symptoms of withdrawal and/or drug use. Dave is definitely involved, I just don’t know how. He could have died in way, but Reginald Corp took his body, he could be a employee Klaus worked with and fell in love with before disappearing one day and showing up to Klaus’s doorstep with reintegration sickness but also a love and care no one has afforded to him before. Either way he has a lot of feelings about it, and goes through it and acts out, thus leading to a lot of wellness sessions with Ben. I think Klaus gets reintegrated, thus leading him to “see the dead” and have the “clairvoyance” of understanding info from innie and outie… and also has a lot of health close calls because basement brain surgery. Maybe Five does it idk.

Number 5 (Five) - miss Huang core. Knows some of the truth about Lumon, sent in as an undercover intern to stop the mysterious Cold Horror file by any means possible and steal it for the Commission for his last job. However the Commission (The Handler + crew) doesn’t have a moral compass and will do anything to get their way (and cause the apocalypse to happen). So they did a bunch of experiments on him like the comics so he’s good at killing and psychological games. And his coworkers are his siblings who he’s been fighting to get back to all these years. I could see him galvanizing the others to try and escape and having a really bad time in the break room with the Handler. Or maybe actually cutting his hand/arm off to make a point. And also falling in love with Dolores the mannequin. Mr. Penny crumb the GOAT. I think he and Lila would clock each other’s identity but this time they are platonic rivals snarking on each other and playing 4D chess

Number 6 (Ben) - There was no other option, he’s gotta be Miss Casey, by the way they both haunt the narrative and most people spoke positively of Ben after his death. 2x07 was incredible also, and I think there’s a 3rd Ben I haven’t pictured who grew up with the rest of the sibs, is trapped, and is so tired of going through experiments and tests, and really misses his family, and wants to go home. Let him out ):. BUT ALSO what if he was also Mrs. Cobel/Mr. Milchick. Mr. Sparrow. Number 2…. Double dipping wellness director and floor manager. Both the tormented and the tormentors… nature vs nurture and temperament affecting personality…

Number 7 (Viktor) - Nothing remarkable came of him during their childhood days, leaving him isolated from the other kids + severed trans story that. Would be so interesting to explore but I think I’ll leave that to someone thinking deeper than me on the topic. Sissy becomes his Burt that he falls in love with on the inside, but married to Carl on the outside with Harlan but willing to do adultery since the marriage is a little…. Yeah. Also definitely reintegrating bc good parallel to the violin mind sequence, misses his brother a lot and is very depressed for most of the story but very valuable to Reginald and the Commission since he works faster on the files than anyone else. Maybe the files are the apocalypse with a smiley face binder : ) Connects a lot to Mr. Hargreeves / Mr. Umbrella (Ben) and when they realize they’re family it’s ): ): ):

[tinyapplejuice]

HII !! I dont think I've requested yet but I LOVE ur writing and was hoping for some 8bit x fem reader headcanons OR VIRUS 8BIT X FEM READER HEADCANONS! THE CHOICE IS URS I JUST LOVE YOUR WORK SM !! ^.^

8-BIT DATING HEADCANONS

✧.*

•Guys I’m stepping into unknown territory, I got back into this game since like 2023 late Decembers and I’m pretty sure I missed so much stuff correlating to 8-bit or even any brawler’s lore since I used to play this game since like 2020 so if there are any key details I’ve missed about his character IM SO SORRY LIKE IM GENUINELY ASHAMED OF MYSELF TOO BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO DISAPPOINT THE FANS WHO ARE GENUINELY HUGE NERDS ABOUT THIS BRAWLER if you have any like canon information about it or if there’s a site that contains lore about Brawl Stars and it’s characters, in general, please tell me. I’m desperate, my sister is helping me with a piece of stone and rock and using our cavemen brains together. But enough about my silly ranting, let’s begin!

•8-bit, 8-bit, 8-bit, ha, what an interesting robot to date since it’s an arcade machine. I mean imagine if you go to an arcade and just see someone being affectionate with one of these things? Pretty weird, huh? But unlike them, 8-bit is actually alive, and in Brawl Stars anything could happen since it’s fiction! Oh, wonderful!

•It has mad anger issues, do I even have to say it aloud? (Some of their things have some sort of reference that leads to being somewhat negative or aggressive like in that animation with the CCTV animation and such; even his design has some cool details with both the skull on its thing and that big X on its back but whatever!) Sometimes I like to think it can get easily annoyed and just grab out its pistols and just shoot at the thing that angered them but if it’s you, they will just warn you pretty aggressively.

•BUT!!! Don’t worry, it goes to… therapy!! I know I was pretty surprised about this too but during your relationship, it does visit a therapist to sort out its behavioral problems which is awesome! So if you notice them resisting the urge to blow up then you know they’re slowly improving out it's anger issues!

•Do you think they have a general dislike of humans in general? I think it does, the only people they can tolerate pretty well are Brock, maybe some other brawlers like Pam, and you! I just think they're neutral about robots as they don’t irritate it as much as humans do. But still, if you ever see it glaring at people especially in the age ranges of a kid to teens, just know it despises them.

•OOHH! It’s so awkward hugging this big blocky dude because of their shape and size! They’re so blocky and it will be so funny if you have to maneuver around just so you could have the perfect hug! They’re probably going to be confused too.

•I like to think it doesn’t enjoy being touched. I don’t know but I like to correlate the hating humans headcanon to the fact that the reason why it doesn’t like to be touched is because of its players! They hate it when the person’s grubby hands are on the controllers, aggressively tapping and beating up the poor dude so I could see how it would grow to dislike just the simplest touch. Obviously, it isn’t going to push and then shoot you if your fingers accidentally touch them. No, they’re surprisingly a brawler who has both great and little patience if you get me. I feel like he’s able to let his loved ones touch them even though they’re not the greatest fans. AHHH IT COULD BE SUCH A SOFTIE TO THEIR LOVER TOO WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT! UGHH

•8-bit’s love language is quality time. I like to imagine it enjoys spending time with their lover and doing whatever they want to do even though they suck booty! The only exception is when they have to move their legs.

•Speaking about it, They’re such a slow walker that it doesn’t even want to walk anymore for most days. They literally loathe it and you have to be such a patient person if you want to do any moving activities with them.

•Heh, another robot brawler you know what that means!!! RAHHHH ITS GOING TO BE THE FIRST CLUELESS ABOUT LOVE!! I genuinely love this headcanon and would almost apply this to every robot brawler. I don’t know. I cannot imagine a robot’s first programming to love people and that includes the arcade machine we love! I feel like they would generally get it faster though due to the lovey-dovey couple it’s been exposed to during its times of being an inanimate object.

•Can you also imagine it tried to mimic them like one time but that made both you and it uncomfortable so it doesn't do it ever again. Hehe silly billy!

•8-bit does not kiss, he literally doesn’t have lips. I could just imagine a replacement with that would be hand-holding. (If you kiss him, he gets a bit of a tingly, statiky feeling).

•OMG whenever they get flustered which is like barely like their whole face turns red and then like this some sort of pop-up appears that its system is being heated and that it needs to cool down or something and you can see smoke coming out of their body like a smoking hazard.

•The majority says that 8-bit will allow you to play their super hard, brutal game but personally it’s like a maybe especially since it lost the controller and the fact it HATES its players. It may be hesitant to let you play on it. But you know what they’re honestly fine with you playing on other arcade machines. They may be very very good at it, like they know the cheat codes and the super epic strategies that pros use or they will be dogwater. (I prefer the first one but honestly, it just depends on whatever you think it’s true!)

•Relating to its controller it lost, do you think they still mope about it once in a while? Like I could imagine it one day grumbling about the fact they lost it and you know those wasps that can clearly remember someone’s face and have photogenic memory? I could see 8-bit remembering the exact person who does it and can even accurately describe them and it would make them pay for it if they ever stumble upon them again.

•Can you imagine 8-bit easily having grudges and it’s hard to let them go? That could also be another behavioral problem that they’re fixing with his therapist. Like, imagine if you had a fight with them, and for like the aftermath of the fight it was kinda cold with you. I think they’re trying to forgive others easily, especially their loved ones.

•At first in the relationship it has the most NPC dialogue for an arcade machine. I could see them struggling to say regular words that humans would use for conversation since it’s so used to saying what it’s always programmed to say when a player wins, loses, and more but as you dated them and the months passed, their vocabulary would increase and it would have been having regular and normal conversations with you even though from time to time it would resort saying back to “Player one” and such.

• He isn’t a huge talker but that one moment where they could properly express what it has been feeling for years was so refreshing for him! That was probably the longest he ever talked and it will be so funny if he speaks about his journey of his motherboard exploding or whatever mind-blowing and crazy in a nonchalant tone of voice and you have to stare at him like WHATT??!! Could you imagine them spilling out what was on their mind for years?? CAN YOU SEE IT PLEASE??

•It can make the cutest facial expressions for someone like them. They’re actually very expressive?? (My favorites from them are UwU and 0_0) Can you imagine it being silly and wonder if someone hacked them even though it can be like that on certain days.

•Wait just as its vocabulary increases do you think its personality develops too? It will be really interesting but I don’t really know how I could see it being more relaxed and would smile often but I don’t know.

•8-bit can actually use both of its hands, I think it’s called ambidextrous. I could imagine it using both of its guns but as you know, it can’t so now it uses these magic hands to do productive things.

•You know how it can make words on its screen to make facial expressions, imagine if it ever gets grumpy it just doesn’t speak to you and instead it would write it out like [this] (Imagine the bracket keys being the screen)...

•8-bit is a geek about games and would make references about it that nobody understands except the hardcore nerds, specifically and especially the old-school games. In addition, can you imagine it being a technology nerd as well?

•I could see it as someone who’s very defensive and protective. I could just imagine them shielding you in a protective stance with their gun out…

•Also it will be super funny if they shut off randomly and then like you have to insert coins in order for them to continue “life” Otherwise they will be shut down unless someone decides to play them. So imagine just you holding spare coins just in case it ever happens or just forcing multiple coins onto their slot so they can stay alive for as long as they can.

•They are a cool. Yep, a cool arcade machine!!

GUYS I DONT KNOW IF ITS LIKE SOMEWHAT REALISTIC I GENUINELY HAVE NO IFEA ABOUT 8-BIT BUT WHOEVER REQUESTED ME THAT THANK YOU SO MUCH AND I HOPE YOU DONT HATE ME BECASUD OF THIS

ALSO I LITTERALY PUT 8-BITS PRONOUNS AS HE/HIM BEFORE I REALIZED IT WASNT LIKE THAG IN ITS STUPID DESCRIPTION SO I HAD TO CHANGE ALL OF THAT INTO IT/THEY/THEM/THEIR AND IT WAS SO ANNOYING BECUASE I WAS ALREADY AT 1200+ WORDS !! (҂` ﾛ ´)︻デ═一 ANYWAYS HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

[riddle-rosethorns]

I can't believe I missed the fact that your requests are open! I've failed you, Mr. President... ;_;

Request time: could I get some headcanons for what kinds of music the housewardens listen to?

The Housewardens' Music Taste

Summary: Having your own private dorm room at NRC means having the freedom to blast whatever you want through your speakers. But just what exactly are our dorm leaders listening to when nobody else is around?

Characters: All Housewardens Pairings: None CWs: Swearing, she/they pronouns for Idia.

A/N: I'm sorry this took *checks calendar* almost ten months for me to answer, I promise it hasn't been for lack of interest! Sometimes writing is hard and my brain is mean. Thank you for your patience! These takes are admittedly heavily biased by my own music taste and knowledge, so feel free to let me know if you think I missed any artists!

Riddle Rosehearts

You can't convince me his mom wasn't constantly playing classical music for him when he was growing up. I honestly think he still defaults to classical music, especially to improve his focus while reading or studying.

I also think Cater has definitely exposed him to a lot more modern music and, though he is undoubtedly very picky, there's even some of it he likes.

Artists that come to mind for Riddle include Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky, Red Velvet, and Mitski.

Leona Kingscholar

For the most part, I'd imagine Leona mostly listens to pretty chill music that's easy to nap to, like R&B or soft rock.

That's not to say he doesn't actively enjoy listening to music though. If he's in the mood to jam, I could see him turning on some hip-hop or even some angry punk music.

Artists that come to mind for Leona include Lil Nas X, Gorillaz, Gym Class Heroes, and The Weeknd.

Azul Ashengrotto

Lounge music feels like the easy answer here. Lots of smooth jazz and easy listening.

However, I also can't resist suggesting that Azul might have a secret fondness for electro-swing that he keeps secret due to the genre's reputation for being considered "cringe".

Artists that come to mind for Azul include Frank Sinatra, Kenny G, Michael Bublé, and Caravan Palace.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim strikes me as one of those guys that would say that he likes every genre of music, only he would actually mean every genre- rap and country included.

That being said, his preference definitely skews heavily in the direction of songs that he can dance to. Bonus points if the composition and instrumentation have a clear Scalding Sands influence.

Artists that come to mind for Kalim include Cascada, Saint Levant, Shakira, and Christina Aguilera.

Vil Schoenheit

For Vil, my brain immediately jumps to all the gayest, poppiest, cunt-serviest stuff I can think of. Imagine every song you and your friends might put on a playlist for pride with some sad girl music sprinkled in for flavor.

Being in Film Studies Club, I'd also imagine he spends a decent amount of time listening to and analyzing movie soundtracks, though whether this counts as part of his "music taste" is up for debate.

Artists that come to mind for Vil include Lady Gaga, Todrick Hall, Britney Spears, and MARINA.

Idia Shroud

This bitch's playlists are absolutely filled with Vocaloid songs, nightcore remixes, anime openings, and video game soundtracks. She is an absolute fucking nerd and I know her music taste reflects this. Let's not forget she is canonically an idol stan.

As for "normal" music, I think they probably listen to about what you'd expect- weird emo shit.

Artists that come to mind for Idia include My Chemical Romance, Utsu-P, Yasuharu Takanashi, and Will Wood.

Malleus Draconia

I genuinely don't even know where to start with Malleus. I feel like this guy listens to Gregorian chants and spooky Halloween sound effect compilations.

In all seriousness, I feel like Malleus would greatly enjoy pieces involving stringed instruments, seeing as he has a talent for playing them. The rest of his music taste probably stems from whatever Lilia and the others have exposed him to, and so is likely very strange.

Artists that come to mind for Malleus include The Correspondents, Burn the Ballroom, Scissor Sisters, and Lindsey Stirling.

[joyride-time]

Roleswap: Boy Genius AU

I’m not above low-hanging fruit when it comes to titles. Thanks to @annoyinglandmagazine and @grandpuppyalpaca for being interested

The past generation is all the same, and so is the present generation except for Agatha, Gil, and Tarvek. And Moloch, who is now a woman.

What I’ve decided on about the au is:

The Heterodyne son genes were too strong and the Holy Child was born male. Almost all male Sparks the appropriate age mysteriously disappear while the Geisters are looking for the Holy Child, but Anevka is still the one put in the Summoning Engine because, well, Aaronev had no illusions that either of his kids is the Holy Child and was just rolling the dice to get Lucrezia back. Also, I can’t decide what Gil Sturmvoraus is up to, so is he even at Sturmhalten?

Tarvek Clay lives in Beetleburg with his loving family and a job as Beetle’s assistant. People understand why he’s there less because ornamental male assistants aren’t as popular, but it doesn’t become a big problem.

I think OG Tarvek’s legacy obsession is fun, so here he’s half-convinced that his Uncle Barry really is Barry Heterodyne. He lives with the logical and emotional sides of his brain at war and constructs elaborate fantasies about what his parents are up to. I imagine him less laser-focused on making something Sparky than Agatha was… maybe his experiments exploding is a little more private?

Agatha is the Baron’s Beautiful Daughter and can bench press a car, because Klaus did the same improvements to her as he did to Gil. Not sure if she is as explicitly into the heroing hobby as Gil is in Paris, but she probably runs into a lot of trouble she can’t resist solving. Is she still a heartthrob to the ladies of Paris? Flip a coin. Does she have as much of a foot-in-mouth syndrome as Gil? I say no, since Gil’s seems to be his brain working at half power around a girl he likes and Agatha mostly powers through her own “hot boy” moments.

Agatha’s role is easy to leave static at the start of the story and Gil and Agatha are very similar people to me, but… I just have no idea who Gilgamesh Sturmvoraus would be as a person. Nature vs nurture debates whip at me relentlessly, not just because of his new family but because I don’t have a solid idea of how much of his upbringing makes up his canon self.

My only two really solid ideas for him are 1) Klaus decides that Agatha-Gil friendship could be romantic and is partially motivated to separate them by not wanting to be in-laws with the Sturmvorauses. This changes nothing but it’s funny. 2) Agatha goes “why is the only guy I click with fucking Sturmvoraus” and this is part of her designated Wulfenbach “alone forever” angst. Or maybe she does try dating… if that even goes well.

For other things… How much does Gil care about his family? Does he think becoming Storm King is a good idea? Does he manage to save Anevka? I think the bio equivalent to Anevka is probably cloning her… but again, does he even care if Aaronev is stable? Is running away an option? Is whistleblowing, once he discovers the Summoning Engine? Does he try to play incompetent like canon Tarvek or just go with being as powerful and scary as he can manage being? Does he have any self-made friends? Is he obsessed with the Muses? What’d he do with the Violetta situation? Does he like Zulenna? Does he obsess over Agatha's secrets or try to move on? Are he and Zola friends? Did Bang kidnap him with associated sexual harassment vibes? Are either Agatha or Gil library nerds?

He still dislikes Martellus, so there’s that. I like to think Agatha and Zola become friends… Truly the biggest twist of the au.

Back to the other two… Agatha gets called on having Heterodyne style possessiveness in canon, but here she’s not a Heterodyne. And does she hate Gil as long as/the same way that Gilvek hate each other? And if Tarvek’s morals are wibblier than Agatha’s, him having The Voice could be worse. Also, it’s unlikely Dr. R would grope him, but I’m sure he can get pissed off in some other way. I'm swapping Moloch because even if Tarvek is scantily clad, the Spark mix-up relies on gender assumptions.

Also, Gil is exposed to too many giant spiders for his liking. Maybe he'll get less scared of them. Or not.

[davidisheresblog]

May 10th, 2025: The Day My Dragon Punch Dreams Almost Came True (Almost)

Alright, internet folks, gather 'round and let me regale you with the thrilling, the hilarious, the slightly sticky saga of David Lane's pilgrimage to the hallowed halls of pixelated combat – otherwise known as the local arcade. Yes, your favorite 28-year-old African American nerd (that's me, waving awkwardly) decided to embrace his inner child today and dive headfirst into the glorious chaos of flashing lights and 8-bit sound.

The day started innocently enough. Woke up, did the whole adulting thing – you know, brushed my teeth with a Star Wars toothbrush, contemplated the existential dread of needing to fold laundry, the usual. But then, a text chimed in. It was my cousin, Keisha, a woman whose competitive spirit could rival a honey badger fighting over the last drop of nectar. "Arcade. 2 PM. Be there or be square (and bad at Street Fighter)." The gauntlet had been thrown.

Now, for those unfamiliar with my Street Fighter prowess, let's just say I peaked somewhere around the time dial-up internet was considered high-speed. My muscle memory for a perfectly timed Hadoken is… well, let's just say it's more of a "Hadon't." But the lure of nostalgia, coupled with the promise of witnessing Keisha's inevitable rage-quits, was too strong to resist.

So, I rallied the troops. My best friend, Marcus, a man whose Guile skills are legendary (mostly in his own mind), and even my surprisingly agile (for a 60-year-old) Uncle Ray, a dark horse Ken player from way back, joined the pixelated party.

Stepping into the arcade was like stepping into a time machine powered by pure, unadulterated joy (and maybe a faint smell of stale popcorn). The cacophony of beeps, boops, and digitized shouts of "Shoryuken!" filled the air. It was beautiful.

We immediately gravitated towards the Street Fighter II cabinet, a beacon of retro gaming glory. The quarters clinked in, the character select screen flashed, and the digital smack-talk began.

My first match? Against Keisha, naturally. I picked Ryu, hoping for a nostalgic surge of skill. What I got was a swift and brutal beatdown courtesy of her lightning-fast Chun-Li kicks. I swear, her digital legs moved faster than my brain could process the concept of blocking. The round ended with a resounding "PERFECT!" and Keisha's triumphant (and slightly scary) laughter.

Marcus, ever the confident one, stepped up next. His Guile vs. Uncle Ray's Ken was a sight to behold. Uncle Ray, with his surprisingly nimble fingers, pulled off a few impressive Shoryukens, much to Marcus's bewildered frustration. Let's just say the phrase "sonic boom" was uttered with a lot less enthusiasm after that match.

My personal highlight (or lowlight, depending on how you look at it) came during my rematch with Keisha. I was this close to landing a Dragon Punch. I could feel it in my thumbs! The joystick was primed, the buttons were ready… and then, my Uncle Ray, in the heat of his own intense battle with a nearby Mortal Kombat machine, accidentally bumped my elbow. My Ryu executed a pathetic little hop instead of a devastating uppercut, leaving me wide open for another Chun-Li beatdown. Thanks, Uncle Ray. Thanks a lot. My dragon will remain un-punched for another day.

Despite my lack of digital fighting prowess, the day was a blast. The laughter, the friendly (and sometimes not-so-friendly) competition, the sheer joy of mashing buttons with people I love – it was exactly what I needed. Plus, I managed to snag the high score on the Ms. Pac-Man machine, so I'm considering that a moral victory for the day.

So, what did I learn? Firstly, my Street Fighter skills are still firmly stuck in the early 90s. Secondly, never underestimate the competitive spirit of your family. And thirdly, arcades are still magical places where grown-up nerds can momentarily forget about laundry and just try to land that elusive Dragon Punch.

Until next time, may your combos be smooth and your continue screens be few!

#ArcadeAdventures #StreetFighterII #NerdLife #FamilyFun #RetroGaming #DragonPunchDreams #AlmostHadIt #ButtonMashingMaster #MyDayInComedy